Part 3 (1/2)
Again on June 17th (_Letters_, II, 94, Eversley Edition) he wrote to the late Professor Cowell of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge:--
”I am here in my little s.h.i.+p” (the _Scandal_) ”with no company but my crew” (Tom Newson and his nephew Jack) ”. . . and my other--Captain of the Lugger now a-building: a Fellow I never tire of studying--If he _should_ turn out knave, I shall have done with all Faith in my own Judgment: and if he should go to the Bottom of the Sea in the Lugger--I shan't cry for the Lugger.”
There was some delay in getting the deck planks on the lugger, for FitzGerald wrote to Mr. Spalding on May 18th, 1867 (_Two Suffolk Friends_, p. 110), that she would be decked ”next Week,” whereas her planking was not finished till June, and, on a Friday in June, FitzGerald wrote to Posh:--
”WOODBRIDGE, _Friday_.
”MY DEAR POSHY,
”I am only back To-day from London, where I had to go for two days: and I am very glad to be back. For the Weather was wretched: the Streets all Slush: and I all alone wandering about in it. So as I was sitting at Night, in a great Room where a Crowd of People were eating Supper, and Singing going on, I thought to myself--Well, Posh might as well be here; and then I should see what a Face he would make at all this--This Thought really came into my mind.
”I had asked Mr. Berry to forward me any Letters because I thought you might write to say the Lugger was planked. But now you tell me it is no such thing: well, there is plenty of time: but I wished not to delay in sending the Money, if wanted. I have seen, and heard, no more of Newson; nor of _his_ new Lugger from Mr. Hunt--I am told that one of the American yachts, _The Henrietta_, is a perfect Model: so I am going to have a Print of her that I may try and learn the Stem from the Stern of a s.h.i.+p. If this North-Easter changes I daresay I may run to Lowestoft next week and get a Sail, but it is too cold for that now.
”Well, here is a letter, you see, my little small Captain, in answer to yours, which I was glad to see, for as I do not forget you, as I have told you, so I am glad that you should sometime remember the Old Governor and Herring-merchant
”EDWARD FITZGERALD.”
It should be observed that in this letter, as in several of those written to Posh, FitzGerald signed his name, ”Edward FitzGerald,” in full, a practice from which he was averse owing to certain facts connected with another Edward Fitzgerald. Those who have heard the story of the historic first meeting between the poet and the late Mr. Bernard Quaritch will remember why _our_ FitzGerald disliked the idea of being confused with the other Edward Fitzgerald.
{Posh and his old ”Shud,” in which nets, etc., belonging to the partners.h.i.+p were stored, and where the letters now published were found: p62.jpg}
The letter here given forces a delightful picture upon us. Its simplicity makes it superbly graphic. Think of FitzGerald, refined in feature and reserved in manner, a little unconventional in dress, but not sufficiently so to be vulgarly noticeable--think of the man who has given us the most poetical philosophy and the most philosophical poetry, all in the most exquisite English, in our language, sitting probably at Evans's (it sounds like Evans's with the suppers and the music) and looking a little pityingly at the reek about him like the ”poor old, solitary, and sad Man as he really was in spite of his Jokes”; and then imaging in his mind's eye the handsome stalwart fisherman whom he loved so truly, and believing that he was as morally excellent as he was physically! ”What a Face he would make at all this!” thought the poet.
Five or six years ago a good friend of mine, the skipper of one of the most famous tugs of Yarmouth, had to go up to town on a salvage case before the Admiralty Court. With him as witnesses went one or two beach men of the old school, wind-and sun-tanned old sh.e.l.l-backs, with voices like a fog-horn, and that entire lack of self-consciousness which is characteristic of simplicity and good breeding. My friend the skipper was cultured in comparison with the old beach men, and he was a little vexed when one old ”salwager” insisted on accompanying him to the Oxford Music Hall. All went well till some conjurers appeared on the stage.
Then the skipper found that he had made a mistake in edging away from the beach man. For that jolly old salt hailed him across the house. ”Hi, Billeeoh! Bill Berry! Hi! Lor, bor, howiver dew they dew't? Howiver dew they dew't, bor? Tha'ss whoolly a masterpiece! Hi! Billeeoh! Theer they goo agin!”
The skipper always ends the story there. He is as brave a man as any on the coast. It was he who stood out in Yarmouth Roads all night to look for the Caistor life-boat the night of the disaster--a night when the roads could not be distinguished from the shoals, so broken into tossing white horses was the whole offing--but I believe he slunk down the stairs of the Oxford that night, and left the old beach man still expressing his delighted wonder.
Perhaps FitzGerald thought that Posh would be as excited as the old beach man.
”Mr. Berry” (as every one knows who knows anything about FitzGerald) was the landlord of the house on Markethill, Woodbridge, where the poet lodged. (By the way, he was, so far as I know, no relation of my Bill Berry.) A sum of 50 pounds was due to Dan Fuller on the planking being completed, and FitzGerald was anxious to let Posh have the money as soon as it was needed. He ”remembered his debts” even before they became due.
I have already stated that Hunt was a boat-builder at Aldeburgh, and that FitzGerald had, at first, wished Posh to employ him to build the _Mum Tum_, as the _Meum and Tuum_ was fated to be called.
The kindly jovial relations between the ”guv'nor” and his partner could not be better indicated than by the name FitzGerald gives himself at the close, just before he once more signs his name in full. Well, perhaps the legal luminary of Lowestoft would justify his inquiry if Edward FitzGerald was the man who made a lot of money out of salt by saying, ”Well, he called himself a herring-merchant.”
The schoolmaster who had never heard of either FitzGerald or Omar Khayyam would (according to the nature of the breed) sniff and say ”What? A herring-merchant and a tent-maker! My boys are the sons of gentlemen. I can't be expected to know anything about tradesfolk of that cla.s.s.”
But Posh has a sense of humour, and he says, ”Ah! He used to laugh about that, the guv'nor did. He'd catch hold o' my jersey, so” (here Posh pinches up a fold of his blue woollen jersey), ”and say, 'Oh dear! Oh dear, Poshy! Two F's in the firm. FitzGerald and Fletcher, herring salesmen--when Poshy catches any, which isn't as often as it might be, you know, Poshy!' And then he'd laugh. Oh, he was a jolly kind-hearted man if ever there was one.”
And then Posh's eyes will grow moist sometimes, I think perhaps with the thought that he might--ah, well! It's too late now.
Posh wishes me to give the dimensions of the lugger, as she was of his own designing and proved a fast and stiff craft. He had given her two feet less length than her beam called for, according to local ideas, and FitzGerald called her ”The Cart-horse,” because she seemed broad and bluff for her length. She was forty-five feet in length, with a fifteen- foot beam and seven-foot depth. She was first rigged as a lugger, but altered to the more modern ”dandy” (something like a ketch but with more rake to the mizzen and with no topmast on the mainmast) before she was sold. Any one about the herring basins who has arrived at fisherman's maturity (about sixty years) will remember the _Mum Tum_, and, so far as she was concerned, the partners.h.i.+p was entirely successful, for no one has a bad word to say for her.
CHAPTER V ”NEIGHBOUR'S FARE”
It is impossible to arrive at the exact sum of money which FitzGerald brought into the partners.h.i.+p between him and Posh, but it must have been something like five hundred pounds. The lugger cost 360 pounds to build, and, in addition, Posh was paid 20 pounds for his services (see _Letters_, p. 309), and various payments had to be made for ”sails, cables, warps, ballast, etc.” Posh brought in what nets and gear he had, and his services. The first notion was that FitzGerald should be owner of three-fourths of the concern; but on a valuation being made it was found that the nets and gear contributed by Posh were of greater value than had been supposed, and before the _Meum and Tuum_ put to sea it was understood that Posh should be half owner with his ”guvnor.” Posh is very firm in his conviction that up to the return of the boat from her first cruise there had been no mention of any bill of sale, or mortgage, of the boat and gear to FitzGerald to secure the money he had found.
According to him his partner was to be a sleeping partner and no more, and the entire conduct and control of the business were to be vested in Posh. The quarrels and misunderstandings which subsequently arose on this point Posh attributes to certain ”interfarin' parties” (and especially to a Lowestoft lawyer), who were under the impression that FitzGerald had not looked after himself so well as he might have done and who thought that this omission should be remedied. Possibly they had an idea that they might ”make somethin'” in the course of the remedial measures.