Edward FitzGerald and Posh

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And it isn't a bad yarn for one which is actually true in every respect.

About the same time, or a little later (for it is impossible to fix the
date of these letters definitely), Fitzgerald wrote:--

"WOODBRIDGE, _Saturday_.

"MY DEAR LAD,

"I suppose the Lugger had returned, and that you had gone out in her
again before my last Note, with Newson's Paper, reached you. I have a
fancy that you will go home this evening. But whether you are not
[_sic_] do not _stay_ at home to answer me. I have felt, as I said,
pretty sure that the Boat was back from Harwich: and we have had no
such weather as to make me anxious about you. One night it blew; but
not a gale: only a strong Wind.

"I shall be expecting Newson up next week.

"I have thought of you while I have been walking out these fine
moonlight nights. But I doubt your fish must have gone off before
this.

"You see I have nothing to say to you; only I thought you might to
[_sic_] hear from me whenever you should come back.

"E. FG."

CHAPTER VIII
HOW FISHERS FISHED

The poor mackerel season ended in the second week of July. Why, when
mackerel were so scarce, the _Meum and Tuum_ did not give up the fishing
and try for "midsummer herring" it is difficult to understand, and Posh
does not remember the reason, if there was one. Possibly the change of
nets, etc., etc., was too much trouble. Anyhow, the season was
unprofitable for the mackerel boats. On Monday, July 13th, FitzGerald
was still on the _Scandal_ at Lowestoft, and wrote from there to Mr.
Spalding (_Two Suffolk Friends_, p. 113): "Posh made up and paid off on
Saturday. I have not yet asked him, but I suppose he has just paid his
way, I mean so far as Grub goes. . . . Last night it lightened to the
South, as we sat in the Suffolk Gardens--I, and Posh, and Mrs. Posh. . . ."

The "making up" may require some little explanation. The "drift"
fishing--i.e. the herring and mackerel fishing (for though sprats and
pilchards are caught by drift nets, it is unnecessary to consider them
when dealing with the great North Sea drift fishing)--is carried on on a
system of sharing profits between owners and fishermen. Trawlers, i.e.
craft that fish with a "trawl" net for flat fish, haddocks, etc., etc.,
are managed differently.

"Making up" is the technical term for balancing profit and loss of a
season, and ascertaining the sums which are due to owners and crew
respectively.

In the days when Fitzgerald was a "herring merchant," the systems of
Yarmouth and Lowestoft were different. At Yarmouth the owner of the boat
took nine shares out of sixteen, and bore all losses of damaged or lost
nets, etc., the remaining seven shares being divided among the crew in
varying proportions. For instance, the skipper took 1.75 or two shares,
the mate 1.25 or 1.5, and so on down to the boy with his one-half or
three-eighths share. At Lowestoft the shares were also divided into
sixteen; but the owner took only eight, and the crew the other eight. The
losses of gear, nets, etc., however, were borne equally between the two
lots of eight shares, and, on the whole, I believe the Yarmouth system
was more favourable to the men, though the Lowestoft system made the
skipper and crew more careful of the nets and gear than they might have
been did not they suffer for any loss of them. The introduction of steam
drifters has made the shares complicated in the extreme. The owners take
so much as owners of the boat, so much for the engines, etc., etc., and,
in fact, the owners get the share of a very greedy lion. However, the
prices rule so high nowadays, and the catches are occasionally so large
(the other day a steam drifter brought in over 200 pounds worth of fish
to Grimsby as the result of one night's fishing), that the great
Martinmas fishing of the east coast has become a gamble in which fortunes
may be made and lost. Many a boat earns over 2000 pounds from October to
December. A lucky skipper may take 200 pounds for his share of the home
fishing alone. But such figures would have sounded fantastic in
FitzGerald's day, for I have been assured over and over again by herring
fishers that in the sixties and seventies, ay, even in the eighties of
last century, 20 pounds was a "good season's share" for a prominent hand
of a successful drifter.

Posh, as half owner, would take four-sixteenth shares, and as skipper
would probably take another two-sixteenths, so that he would draw more
than any one else.

Some time during the spring or summer of 1868 there was great excitement
amongst the fishing-boat owners of Lowestoft and other ports on account
of an Act just passed regulating the building of vessels, having especial
regard to the ventilation of the cuddy, forecastle, or the men's sleeping
quarters. Posh tells me that many owners of drifters considered that the
Act applied to all craft, including fishing boats, and that great expense
was undergone by some over-conscientious owners in fitting ventilating
drums and shafts in accordance with the Act. If the statute applied to
any drifter it would apply to the _Meum and Tuum_, and FitzGerald
evidently thought that the intention of the Act was that fishing boats
should be exempt. He proved to be right, for the regulations were never
enforced on fishing boats. He wrote to Posh:--

"WOODBRIDGE, _Saturday_.

"DEAR POSH,

"You must lay out three halfpence on the _Eastern Times_ for last
Friday. In that Newspaper there is a good deal written about that Act
for altering Vessels: the Writer is quite sure--that the Act does
_not_ apply to Fishing craft; and he writes as if he knew what he was
writing about. But most likely if he had written just the contrary,
it would have seemed as right to me. Do you therefore fork out three
halfpennies, as I tell you, and study the matter and talk it over with
others. The owners of Vessels should lose no time in meeting, and in
passing some Resolution on the Subject.

"I have not seen Newson, but West was down at the Ferry some days back
and saw him. For a wonder, he [Newson] was _Fishing_!--for
Codlings--for there really was nothing else to do: no Woodbridge
Vessels coming in and out the Harbour, nor any work for the Salvage
Smacks. He spoke of his Wife as much the same: Smith, the Pilot,
thought her much altered when last he saw her.

"You will buy such things as you spoke of wanting at the Lowestoft
Sales if they go at a reasonable price. As to the claim made by your
Yawl, I suppose it will come down to half. The builders are coming to
my house again next week, I believe, having left their work undone.

"Now, here is a Letter for your Mantelpiece to-morrow--Sunday--I don't
think I have more to say.

"Yours E. FG.

"Mr. Durrant has never sent me the hamper of Flowers he promised.

"P.S. I post this letter before Noon so as you will receive it this
evening: and can get the Newspaper I tell you of:

"_Eastern Times_ for _Friday_ last sold at Chapman's."

Posh does not remember whether he laid out the three halfpence or not.
But he doubts it. "I knowed as that couldn't ha' nothin' ta dew along o'
us," says he. And he stuck to his guns and proved to be right.

"West" has been mentioned before as being an old fellow with whom
FitzGerald used to navigate the river Deben in a small boat before the
building of the _Scandal_. Newson's wife, like Posh's, was often ailing.
Kind "Fitz" had written previously (July 25th, 1868; _Letters_, Eversley
Edition, p. 106) to Professor Cowell:--

". . . I only left Lowestoft partly to avoid a Volunteer Camp there
which filled the Town and People with Bustle: and partly that my
Captain might see his Wife: who cannot last very much longer I think:
scarcely through the Autumn, surely. She goes about, nurses her
children, etc., but grows visibly thinner, weaker and more ailing."

{The "Happy New Year" yawl, belonging to Posh's beach company: p107.jpg}

The "claim made by your yawl" refers to a claim for salvage made by the
company of beach men (of which Posh was a member) owning a yawl.
FitzGerald (as has been seen before) always took a humorous interest in
the doings of the "sea pirates," yclept beach men or "salwagers," and he
doubtless enjoyed his little chuckle at Posh's expense.

The builders were at work on Little Grange, which FitzGerald predicted he
would never live in but would die in. However, he falsified both
predictions, for he lived in the house ten years and died in Norfolk.

Mr. Durrant was still in default. I doubt if FitzGerald ever got those
flowers. They were plants, Posh tells me, which FitzGerald wished to
plant out at Little Grange.

I can find no record of the principal, the Martinmas or Autumn, fishing
of 1868. But in the spring of 1869 the _Meum and Tuum_ went to the "West
Fishing" for mackerel, even as a large number of our modern steam
drifters go now, to the indignation of the pious fishermen of Penzance,
Newlyn, and St. Ives. These good fellows of the west have, I think, some
reason to complain that it is unfair that they should suffer for
righteousness' sake. Looking at the point in dispute impartially, it
_does_ seem hard that the men of the locality should see Easterlings
bringing in good catches of fish as the result of what the Cornishmen
regard as a desecration of "the Lord's Day." The religious sentiment
which prevents the western and southern men from putting off on Sunday is
genuine and sincere enough. The Scotch herring boats, which come in
their thousands to Yarmouth and Lowestoft for the autumn fishing, are
always in harbour from Saturday night to Monday morning, though the local
boats fish all days and nights. But by keeping in harbour the Scotchmen
offend the sensibilities of no one, whereas there is much bitterness
caused in the west by the refusal of the Easterlings to fall in with
local custom.

On March 1st, 1869, FitzGerald wrote to Professor Cowell (_Letters_, II,
107, Eversley Edition):--

"MY DEAR COWELL,

". . . My lugger Captain has just left me to go on his Mackerel Voyage
to the Western Coast; and I don't know when I shall see him again. . .
. You can't think what a grand, tender Soul this is, lodged in a
suitable carcase."

FitzGerald thought very highly of that "carcase" of Posh's, as will be
seen from the story of the Laurence portrait, set forth hereinafter, as
the lawyers, whom Posh hates so much, would say.

The sleeping partner throughout seems to have had more anxiety on account
of Posh's sea hazards than on account of business losses. How the
mackerel paid I do not know, but Posh was in time to go north for the
beginning of the herring fishing in July.

CHAPTER IX
ECCENTRICITIES OF A GOOD HEART

There must always be an interval ashore between the return of the
drifters from the western voyage and their sailing north to follow the
herring down from Aberdeen to Yarmouth. And during this interval, in
1869, FitzGerald wrote one or two letters to Posh which have survived
that wholesale destruction of which their recipient speaks.

"WOODBRIDGE, _Friday_.

"Newson is up here with the Yacht, Posh; and we shall start to-morrow
with the Tide about 10.30. I doubt if we shall get out of the
harbour: or, even if we do that, get to Lowestoft in the Day. But you
can just give a look to the Southward to-morrow evening, or Sunday. I
write this, because we _may_ not have more than a day to stay at
Lowestoft.

"E. FG."

Despite his silk hat and his boa, FitzGerald was a keen and genuine lover
of yachting. Even in the way in which he took his enjoyment of this he
was original. Posh asserts that he has seen his "guv'nor" lying in the
lee scuppers while the _Scandal_ was heeling over in a stiff breeze, and
permitting the wash of the sea to run over him till he was drenched to
the skin. Indeed, although his long lean body looked frail, he was
reckless in the way in which he treated it. Posh tells one story which I
give in his words. He vouches for its truth, and I give it on his
authority and not as vouching for its accuracy myself. Personally I
believe the tale is true enough, but I admit that it requires a power of
assimilation which is not given to all.

"He! he!" says Posh. "He was a rum un sometimes, was my guv'nor! I
remember one day when the _Scandal_ was a layin' agin' the wharf where
the trawl market is now. Mr. Sims Reeves, the lawyer [this was a
prominent counsel on the Norwich circuit, not the famous tenor], and
some other friends came over for a sail, and they and Tom [Newson] was
below while me and Jack and the guv'nor was on deck, astarn. The
mains'l was h'isted, but there wasn't no heads'l on her, and we lay
theer riddy to get unner way. There was a fresh o' wind blowin' from
the eastard, not wery stiddy, and as we lay theer the boom kep' a
wamblin' and a jerkin' from side to side, a wrenchin' the mainsheet
block a rum un. The guv'nor was a readin' of a letter as had just
been brought down by the poost. 'Posh,' he say, 'here's a letter with
some money I niver expected to git,' he say. 'That's a good job,'
when just then the boom come over wallop and caught him fair on the
side of his hid, and knocked him oover into the harbour like one
o'clock. He was a wearin' of his topper same as us'al, and all of a
sudden up he come agin just as Jack an' me was raychin' oover arter
him. His topper come up aisy like, as though 'twas a life-buoy if I
may say soo, and unnerneath it come the fur boa, and then the guv'nor.
And as true as I set here he was still a holdin' that letter out in
front of him in both hands. Well, I couldn't help it. I bust out a
laughin', and soo did Jack an' all, and then we rayched down and
copped hold on him and h'isted him aboord all right and tight, but as
wet as a soused harrin'. He come up a laughin', playsed as Punch, an'
give orders to cast off and git up headsail ta oncet. And would yew
believe me, he wouldn't goo below ta shift afore we got right out to
the Corton light, though Mr. Reeves axed him tew time and time agin!
Not he. That was blowin' a fresh o' wind, an' he jest lay down in the
lee scuppers, and 'I can't get no wetter, Posh,' he say, and let the
lipper slosh oover him. Ah! He was a master rum un, was my ole
guv'nor!"

The northern herring voyage of the _Meum and Tuum_ in 1869, that is to
say, the eight weeks' fishing down the east coast from Aberdeen to
Lowestoft from the beginning of August to the end of September, seems to
have been about up to what FitzGerald might have called "Neighbour's
fare." He wrote to Mrs. W. H. Thompson (the wife of the Master of
Trinity): "My lugger has had (along with her neighbours) such a Season
hitherto of Winds as no one remembers. We made 450 pounds in the North
Sea" (that is to say, in the north fishing before the home Martinmas
fishing began); "and (just for fun) I did wish to realise 5 pounds in my
pocket. But my Captain would take it all to pay Bills. But if he makes
another 400 pounds this Home Voyage! Oh, then we shall have money in our
pockets. I do wish this. For the anxiety about all these people's lives
has been so much more to me than all the amusement I have got from the
Business, that I think I will draw out of it if I can see my Captain
sufficiently firm on his legs to carry it on alone. True, there will
still be the same risk to him and his ten men, but they don't care; only
I sit here listening to the Winds in the Chimney, and always thinking of
the eleven hanging at my own finger ends" (_Letters_, II, 110, Eversley
Edition).

{A Lowestoft "Dandy": p116.jpg}

The number of hands on a herring drifter used to be eleven, which seemed
excessive till the labour of hauling nearly two miles of nets by hand is
remembered. Now that almost every drifter which goes into the North Sea
has a donkey engine to do the hardest work of the hauling the number
aboard the dandies is lessened to nine.

This letter to Mrs. Thompson is the first suggestion that FitzGerald has
any idea of ending the partnership, a suggestion which became fully
developed in 1870.

But before Posh was hard at it every day, fishing off the Norfolk coast,
his "guv'nor" wrote him a note in a much more cheerful strain. Indeed,
this is a letter by itself, unlike any other of the writer's which I have
seen, though (as Dr. Aldis Wright says) "FitzGerald never wrote a letter
like any one else." The power of throwing himself "into the picture,"
the humour of conscious imitation, were never more brilliantly
illustrated than by this hail-fellow-well-met letter, written by the
scholar and poet:--

"MARKETHILL, WOODBRIDGE, _Wednesday_.

"Now then, Posh, here is a letter for you, sooner than you looked for,
and moreover you will have to answer it as soon as you can.

"I want you to learn from your friend _Dan Fuller_ what particulars
you can about that Lugger we saw at Mutford Bridge. Draft of Water,
Length of Keel, What sails and Stores; and what _Price_; and any other
Questions you may think necessary to ask. If the man here who has a
notion of buying such a Vessel to make a Yacht of on this river sees
any hope of doing so at a reasonable rate, and with a reasonable hope
of Success, he will go over next week to look at the Vessel. He of
course knows he would have to alter all her inside: but I told him
your Opinion that she would do well _cutter rigged_.

"So now, Poshy, do go down as soon as is convenient, to Dan, and stand
him _half a pint_ and don't tell him what you are come about, but just
turn the conversation (in a _Salvaging_ sort of way) to the old Lugger
and get me the particulars I ask for. Perhaps Dan's heart will
open--_over Half a Pint_--as yours has been known to do. And if you
write to me as soon as you can what you can learn, why I take my
Blessed Oath that I'll be d---d if I don't stand you Half a Pint, so
help me Bob, the next time I go to Lowestoft. I hope I make myself
understood.

"The _Elsie_ is being gutted, and new timbered, and Mr. Silver has
bought a new dandy of forty tons, and Ablett Percival" (cf. spelling
in other letters) "is to be Captain. I think of going down the river
soon to see Captain Newson. I have been on the River To-day and
thought that I should have been with you on the way to Yarmouth or
Southwold if I had stayed at Lowestoft. Instead of which I have been
to the Lawyer here.

"Good-bye, Poshy, and believe me always yours to the last Half Pint.

"E. FG.

"I enclose a paper with my questions marked, to which you can add
short answers."

Dan Fuller was the builder of the _Meum and Tuum_. His son is still
living, and a well-known mechanic in Lowestoft. Mutford Bridge will be
better recognised as the bridge at Oulton Broad.

Once again FitzGerald chuckles at the morality of the "salwagers," and
chuckles again at the expansiveness of the East Anglian "half a pint,"
which may mean anything between its nominal measure and the full holding
capacity of the drinker--which is as vague as "half a pint," itself.

The _Elsie_ was a yacht which belonged to a syndicate of Woodbridge
yachtsmen, of whom Mr. Silver (a Woodbridge friend of FitzGerald's) was
one and Mr. Manby was another. The two friends who went to Mutford
Bridge to look at the lugger were (so far as Posh can remember) Mr.
Silver and Mr. Cobbold, of Cobbold's Bank. Posh says that the lugger was
a beauty. But nothing came of the visit, and the Woodbridge man did not
buy her.

As yet the warning which FitzGerald had given Posh in his sermon had (so
far as the letters tell us) served its purpose. But the letters appear
to be deceitful in this, and the next chapter must deal with a painful
phase of the partnership.

CHAPTER X
POSH'S SPIRIT OF INDEPENDENCE

The hopes for the home fishing of 1869 should have been good. On August
30th, 1869 (_Two Suffolk Friends_, p. 114), FitzGerald wrote to Mr.
Spalding from Lowestoft: "You will see by the enclosed that Posh has had
a little better luck than hitherto. One reason for my not going to
Woodbridge is, that I think it possible that this N.E. wind may blow him
hither to tan his nets. Only please God it don't tan him and his people
first."

Herring are, as our East Anglian fishermen say, "ondependable" in their
travels. They come south along the coast from the north of Scotland till
they are in their prime (full-roed, fat fish) off Yarmouth in October.
But their arrival at the various ports along the east coast can never be
fixed for a certain date. This year, for instance (1907), owing to the
warm August and September they have been late in coming south from Hull.
Generally "longshores" are caught off Lowestoft late in August or early
in September, and by the end of September the home and Scotch fleets are
congesting the herring basins. This year, however, I had my first
longshores brought me yesterday, the 1st of October, and there are not a
dozen Scotch craft to be seen in the basins.

FitzGerald stayed at Lowestoft till the north-easters _did_ blow Posh
home. And perhaps he would have been happier had he gone back to
Woodbridge before the return of the _Meum and Tuum_. As it was, Posh had
"some bare" on regatta day (very late that year), and this upset his
"guv'nor." He wrote to Mr. Spalding on the 4th September (_Two Suffolk
Friends_, p. 115): "I would not meddle with the Regatta. . . . And the
Day ended by vexing me more than it did him [Newson]. . . . Posh drove
in here the day before to tan his nets: could not help making one with
some old friends in a Boat-race on the Monday, and getting very fuddled
with them on the Suffolk Green (where I was) at night. After all the
pains I have taken, and all the real anxiety I have had. And worst of
all after the repeated promises he had made! I said there must be an end
of Confidence between us, so far as _that_ was concerned, and I would so
far trouble myself about him no more. But when I came to reflect that
this was but an outbreak among old friends, on an old occasion, after (I
do believe) months of sobriety; that there was no concealment about it;
and that though obstinate at first as to how little drunk, etc., he was
very repentant afterwards--I cannot let this one flaw weigh against the
general good of the man. I cannot if I would: what then is the use of
trying? But my confidence in that respect must be so far shaken, and it
vexes me to think that I can never be sure of his not being overtaken so.
I declare that it makes me feel ashamed very much to play the judge on
one who stands immeasurably above me in the scale, whose faults are
better than so many virtues. Was not this very outbreak that of a great
genial Boy among his old Fellows? True, a Promise was broken. Yes, but
if the Whole Man be of the Royal Blood of Humanity, and do Justice in the
Main, what are _the people_ to say? _He_ thought, if he thought at all,
that he kept his promise in the main. But there is no use talking,
unless I part company wholly, I suppose I must take the evil with the
good. . . ."

FitzGerald probably got to the very heart of the misunderstanding between
himself and Posh as to the merits and demerits of "bare" when he wrote
that Posh was a little obstinate as to "how little drunk," etc. Moreover
he understood the nature of the man--"a great genial boy"--but he did not
understand that these "great genial boys" have all the mischievous
tendencies, and all the irresponsibility of real boys. He was kind and
forbearing enough, God knows. But he had set up his Posh on such a
pinnacle of pre-eminence over all his fellow-men that it is possible that
his bitterness in discovering that after all his protege was merely a
well-built, handsome, ordinary longshoreman caused a greater revulsion
than would have occurred had his first estimate of Posh's character been
less exalted.

It is to the credit of the great heart of the man that he never lost his
love of Posh (Posh is certain about this), though he undoubtedly did lose
his confidence in and respect for him.

And Posh did not give way to his "guv'nor" as he might have done. That
fine old East Anglian spirit of independence (which is so generally
admirable) was in this particular instance sheer brutal ingratitude when
shown by Posh to FitzGerald. No one has a greater admiration than I for
this magnificent claim of a MAN to be MAN'S equal. It kept the race of
Norfolk and Suffolk longshoremen worthy of their traditions until the
cockney visitors, with their tips and their hunger for longshore lies,
ruined the nature of many of our beach folk. But with FitzGerald, that
kind, solicitous gentleman who never asserted the claims of his station
in life before an inferior, the obtrusive display of this spirit of
independence was as unnecessary as it was cruel. And I think Posh
understands this now. He certainly never meant to hurt the feelings of
his old governor. But he chafed at the care which his friend took of
him. He said to me the other day that he wished his old master were
alive now to take such care. "Ah!" he said, "he'd take hold o' me like
this here" (and here, as I have described on a previous page, Posh
pinched up his blue knitted jersey), "and say, 'Oh, my dear Poshy! Oh
dear! Oh dear! To think you should be like this! Oh dear! Oh dear!'"

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