History of Tom Jones, a Foundling

by Henry Fielding

  Chapter xi.

  The disasters which befel Jones on his departure for Coventry; withthe sage remarks of Partridge.

  No road can be plainer than that from the place where they now were toCoventry; and though neither Jones, nor Partridge, nor the guide, hadever travelled it before, it would have been almost impossible to havemissed their way, had it not been for the two reasons mentioned in theconclusion of the last chapter.

  These two circumstances, however, happening both unfortunately tointervene, our travellers deviated into a much less frequented track;and after riding full six miles, instead of arriving at the statelyspires of Coventry, they found themselves still in a very dirty lane,where they saw no symptoms of approaching the suburbs of a large city.

  Jones now declared that they must certainly have lost their way; butthis the guide insisted upon was impossible; a word which, in commonconversation, is often used to signify not only improbable, but oftenwhat is really very likely, and, sometimes, what hath certainlyhappened; an hyperbolical violence like that which is so frequentlyoffered to the words infinite and eternal; by the former of which itis usual to express a distance of half a yard, and by the latter, aduration of five minutes. And thus it is as usual to assert theimpossibility of losing what is already actually lost. This was, infact, the case at present; for, notwithstanding all the confidentassertions of the lad to the contrary, it is certain they were no morein the right road to Coventry, than the fraudulent, griping, cruel,canting miser is in the right road to heaven.

  It is not, perhaps, easy for a reader, who hath never been in thosecircumstances, to imagine the horror with which darkness, rain, andwind, fill persons who have lost their way in the night; and who,consequently, have not the pleasant prospect of warm fires, drycloaths, and other refreshments, to support their minds in strugglingwith the inclemencies of the weather. A very imperfect idea of thishorror will, however, serve sufficiently to account for the conceitswhich now filled the head of Partridge, and which we shall presentlybe obliged to open.

  Jones grew more and more positive that they were out of their road;and the boy himself at last acknowledged he believed they were not inthe right road to Coventry; though he affirmed, at the same time, itwas impossible they should have mist the way. But Partridge was of adifferent opinion. He said, "When they first set out he imagined somemischief or other would happen.--Did not you observe, sir," said he toJones, "that old woman who stood at the door just as you was takinghorse? I wish you had given her a small matter, with all my heart; forshe said then you might repent it; and at that very instant it beganto rain, and the wind hath continued rising ever since. Whatever somepeople may think, I am very certain it is in the power of witches toraise the wind whenever they please. I have seen it happen very oftenin my time: and if ever I saw a witch in all my life, that old womanwas certainly one. I thought so to myself at that very time; and if Ihad had any halfpence in my pocket, I would have given her some; forto be sure it is always good to be charitable to those sort of people,for fear what may happen; and many a person hath lost his cattle bysaving a halfpenny."

  Jones, though he was horridly vexed at the delay which this mistakewas likely to occasion in his journey, could not help smiling at thesuperstition of his friend, whom an accident now greatly confirmed inhis opinion. This was a tumble from his horse; by which, however, hereceived no other injury than what the dirt conferred on his cloaths.

  Partridge had no sooner recovered his legs, than he appealed to hisfall, as conclusive evidence of all he had asserted; but Jones findinghe was unhurt, answered with a smile: "This witch of yours, Partridge,is a most ungrateful jade, and doth not, I find, distinguish herfriends from others in her resentment. If the old lady had been angrywith me for neglecting her, I don't see why she should tumble you fromyour horse, after all the respect you have expressed for her."

  "It is ill jesting," cries Partridge, "with people who have power todo these things; for they are often very malicious. I remember afarrier, who provoked one of them, by asking her when the time she hadbargained with the devil for would be out; and within three monthsfrom that very day one of his best cows was drowned. Nor was shesatisfied with that; for a little time afterwards he lost a barrel ofbest-drink: for the old witch pulled out the spigot, and let it runall over the cellar, the very first evening he had tapped it to makemerry with some of his neighbours. In short, nothing ever thrived withhim afterwards; for she worried the poor man so, that he took todrinking; and in a year or two his stock was seized, and he and hisfamily are now come to the parish."

  The guide, and perhaps his horse too, were both so attentive to thisdiscourse, that, either through want of care, or by the malice of thewitch, they were now both sprawling in the dirt.

  Partridge entirely imputed this fall, as he had done his own, to thesame cause. He told Mr Jones, "It would certainly be his turn next;and earnestly entreated him to return back, and find out the oldwoman, and pacify her. We shall very soon," added he, "reach the inn;for though we have seemed to go forward, I am very certain we are inthe identical place in which we were an hour ago; and I dare swear, ifit was daylight, we might now see the inn we set out from."

  Instead of returning any answer to this sage advice, Jones wasentirely attentive to what had happened to the boy, who received noother hurt than what had before befallen Partridge, and which hiscloaths very easily bore, as they had been for many years inured tothe like. He soon regained his side-saddle, and by the hearty cursesand blows which he bestowed on his horse, quickly satisfied Mr Jonesthat no harm was done.