Chapter vi.
In which the history is farther continued
"Sure, friend," said the good man, "you are the strangest of all humanbeings. Not only to have suffered as you have formerly for obstinatelypersisting in a falshood, but to persist in it thus to the last, andto pass thus upon the world for a servant of your own son! Whatinterest can you have in all this? What can be your motive?"
"I see, sir," said Partridge, falling down upon his knees, "that yourhonour is prepossessed against me, and resolved not to believeanything I say, and, therefore, what signifies my protestations? butyet there is one above who knows that I am not the father of thisyoung man."
"How!" said Allworthy, "will you yet deny what you was formerlyconvicted of upon such unanswerable, such manifest evidence? Nay, whata confirmation is your being now found with this very man, of allwhich twenty years ago appeared against you! I thought you had leftthe country! nay, I thought you had been long since dead.--In whatmanner did you know anything of this young man? Where did you meetwith him, unless you had kept some correspondence together? Do notdeny this; for I promise you it will greatly raise your son in myopinion, to find that he hath such a sense of filial duty as privatelyto support his father for so many years."
"If your honour will have patience to hear me," said Partridge, "Iwill tell you all."--Being bid go on, he proceeded thus: "When yourhonour conceived that displeasure against me, it ended in my ruin soonafter; for I lost my little school; and the minister, thinking Isuppose it would be agreeable to your honour, turned me out from theoffice of clerk; so that I had nothing to trust to but the barber'sshop, which, in a country place like that, is a poor livelihood; andwhen my wife died (for till that time I received a pension of L12 ayear from an unknown hand, which indeed I believe was your honour'sown, for nobody that ever I heard of doth these things besides)--but,as I was saying, when she died, this pension forsook me; so that now,as I owed two or three small debts, which began to be troublesome tome, particularly one[*] which an attorney brought up by law-chargesfrom 15s. to near L30, and as I found all my usual means of living hadforsook me, I packed up my little all as well as I could, and wentoff.
[*] This is a fact which I knew happen to a poor clergyman in Dorsetshire, by the villany of an attorney who, not contented with the exorbitant costs to which the poor man was put by a single action, brought afterwards another action on the judgment, as it was called. A method frequently used to oppress the poor, and bring money into the pockets of attorneys, to the great scandal of the law, of the nation, of Christianity, and even of human nature itself.
"The first place I came to was Salisbury, where I got into the serviceof a gentleman belonging to the law, and one of the best gentlementhat ever I knew, for he was not only good to me, but I know athousand good and charitable acts which he did while I staid with him;and I have known him often refuse business because it was paultry andoppressive." "You need not be so particular," said Allworthy; "I knowthis gentleman, and a very worthy man he is, and an honour to hisprofession."--"Well, sir," continued Partridge, "from hence I removedto Lymington, where I was above three years in the service of anotherlawyer, who was likewise a very good sort of a man, and to be sure oneof the merriest gentlemen in England. Well, sir, at the end of thethree years I set up a little school, and was likely to do well again,had it not been for a most unlucky accident. Here I kept a pig; andone day, as ill fortune would have it, this pig broke out, and did atrespass, I think they call it, in a garden belonging to one of myneighbours, who was a proud, revengeful man, and employed a lawyer,one--one--I can't think of his name; but he sent for a writ againstme, and had me to size. When I came there, Lord have mercy upon me--tohear what the counsellors said! There was one that told my lord aparcel of the confoundedest lies about me; he said that I used todrive my hogs into other folk's gardens, and a great deal more; and atlast he said, he hoped I had at last brought my hogs to a fair market.To be sure, one would have thought that, instead of being owner onlyof one poor little pig, I had been the greatest hog-merchant inEngland. Well--" "Pray," said Allworthy, "do not be so particular, Ihave heard nothing of your son yet." "O it was a great many years,"answered Partridge, "before I saw my son, as you are pleased to callhim.----I went over to Ireland after this, and taught school at Cork(for that one suit ruined me again, and I lay seven years inWinchester jail)."--"Well," said Allworthy, "pass that over till yourreturn to England."--"Then, sir," said he, "it was about half a yearago that I landed at Bristol, where I staid some time, and not findingit do there, and hearing of a place between that and Gloucester wherethe barber was just dead, I went thither, and there I had been abouttwo months when Mr Jones came thither." He then gave Allworthy a veryparticular account of their first meeting, and of everything, as wellas he could remember, which had happened from that day to this;frequently interlarding his story with panegyrics on Jones, and notforgetting to insinuate the great love and respect which he had forAllworthy. He concluded with saying, "Now, sir, I have told yourhonour the whole truth." And then repeated a most solemn protestation,"That he was no more the father of Jones than of the Pope of Rome;"and imprecated the most bitter curses on his head, if he did not speaktruth.
"What am I to think of this matter?" cries Allworthy. "For whatpurpose should you so strongly deny a fact which I think it would berather your interest to own?" "Nay, sir," answered Partridge (for hecould hold no longer), "if your honour will not believe me, you arelike soon to have satisfaction enough. I wish you had mistaken themother of this young man, as well as you have his father."--And nowbeing asked what he meant, with all the symptoms of horror, both inhis voice and countenance, he told Allworthy the whole story, which hehad a little before expressed such desire to Mrs Miller to concealfrom him.
Allworthy was almost as much shocked at this discovery as Partridgehimself had been while he related it. "Good heavens!" says he, "inwhat miserable distresses do vice and imprudence involve men! How muchbeyond our designs are the effects of wickedness sometimes carried!"He had scarce uttered these words, when Mrs Waters came hastily andabruptly into the room. Partridge no sooner saw her than he cried,"Here, sir, here is the very woman herself. This is the unfortunatemother of Mr Jones. I am sure she will acquit me before your honour.Pray, madam----"
Mrs Waters, without paying any regard to what Partridge said, andalmost without taking any notice of him, advanced to Mr Allworthy. "Ibelieve, sir, it is so long since I had the honour of seeing you, thatyou do not recollect me." "Indeed," answered Allworthy, "you are sovery much altered, on many accounts, that had not this man alreadyacquainted me who you are, I should not have immediately called you tomy remembrance. Have you, madam, any particular business which bringsyou to me?" Allworthy spoke this with great reserve; for the readermay easily believe he was not well pleased with the conduct of thislady; neither with what he had formerly heard, nor with what Partridgehad now delivered.
Mrs Waters answered--"Indeed, sir, I have very particular businesswith you; and it is such as I can impart only to yourself. I mustdesire, therefore, the favour of a word with you alone: for I assureyou what I have to tell you is of the utmost importance."
Partridge was then ordered to withdraw, but before he went, he beggedthe lady to satisfy Mr Allworthy that he was perfectly innocent. Towhich she answered, "You need be under no apprehension, sir; I shallsatisfy Mr Allworthy very perfectly of that matter."
Then Partridge withdrew, and that past between Mr Allworthy and MrsWaters which is written in the next chapter.
History of Tom Jones, a Foundling Page 201
