Edward FitzGerald and Posh | Page 9

by Posh, at a total cost (including spars) of 360
pounds. FitzGerald had suggested that the boat should be built by a Mr.
Hunt, of Aldeburgh, but Posh persuaded him to consent to Lowestoft
and Dan Fuller instead. "I can look arter 'em better," said he, with some
show of reason.
The agreement was, in the first instance, between Dan Fuller and Posh,

but FitzGerald took a fancy to become partner with Posh in the boat
and her profits. He was to find the money for the new lugger, and to let
the sums already due from Posh remain in the partnership, while Posh
was to bring in the nets and gear he had.
But by this time FitzGerald had seen symptoms in Posh which caused
him anxiety. He loved his humble friend, and his anxiety was on
account of the man and not on account of the possibilities of pecuniary
loss incurred through Posh's weakness. On December the 4th, 1866, he
wrote to Mr. Spalding, of Woodbridge: "At eight or half-past I go to
have a pipe at Posh's, if he isn't half-drunk with his Friends" (Two
Suffolk Friends, p. 107).
On January 5th, 1867, he wrote to the same correspondent (Two Suffolk
Friends, p. 108) referring to Posh: "This very day he signs an
Agreement for a new Herring-lugger, of which he is to be Captain, and
to which he will contribute some Nets and Gear. . . . I believe I have
smoked my pipe every evening but one with Posh at his house, which
his quiet little Wife keeps tidy and pleasant. The Man is, I do think, of a
Royal Nature. I have told him he is liable to one Danger (the Hare with
many Friends)--so many wanting him to drink. He says it's quite true
and that he is often obliged to run away: as I believe he does: for his
House shows all Temperance and Order. This little lecture I give
him--to go the way, I suppose, of all such Advice. . . ."
I fear that poor Posh's limbs soon grew too stiff to permit him to run
away from the good brown "bare." But the lecture which FitzGerald
mentions so casually was surely one of the most delicately written
warnings ever penned. The sterling kindness of the writer is as
transparent in it as is his tenderness to an inferior's feelings. No one but
a very paragon of a gentleman would have taken the trouble to write so
wisely, so kindly, so tenderly, and so earnestly. The appeal must surely
have moved Posh, for the pathos of the reference to his patron's
loneliness could not but have its effect.
But to touch on the sacred "bare" of a Lowestoft fisherman is always
dangerous. There are many teetotallers among them now, and they
would resent any imputation on their temperance. But those who are

not teetotallers would resent it much more. FitzGerald warned his
friend in as beautiful a letter as was ever written. But Posh could never
regard the "mild bare," the "twopenny" of the district, as an enemy. He
rarely touched spirits. Now, at the age of sixty-nine, he enjoys his mild
beer more than anything and cares little for stronger stuff. But there is
no doubt that this same mild beer inserted the edge of the adze which
was to split the partnership in a little more than three years' time--this
and the "interfarin' parties," whom Posh blames for all the
misunderstandings which were to come.
"MARKETHILL, WOODBRIDGE, Thursday.
"MY DEAR POSHY,
"My Lawyer can easily manage the Assignment of the Lugger to me,
leaving the Agreement as it is between you and Fuller. But you must
send the Agreement here for him to see.
"As we shall provide that the Lugger when built shall belong to me; so
we will provide that, in case of my dying before she is built, you may
come on my executors for any money due.
"I think you will believe that I shall propose, and agree to, nothing
which is not for your good. For surely I should not have meddled with
it at all, but for that one purpose.
"And now, Poshy, I mean to read you a short Sermon, which you can
keep till Sunday to read. You know I told you of one danger--and I do
think the only one--you are liable to--Drink.
"I do not the least think you are given to it: but you have, and will have,
so many friends who will press you to it: perhaps I myself have been
one. And when you keep so long without food; could you do so, Posh,
without a Drink--of some your bad Beer [sic] too--now and then? And
then, does not the Drink--and of bad Stuff--take away Appetite for