“Dear Posh,
“I never wanted you to puzzle yourself about the Accounts any more, but only to tell me at a rough estimate what the chief expenses were—as, for instance, Shares, &c.—I beg to say that I never had asked you—nor had you told me this at Lowestoft: if you had I should not have wanted to ask again. And my reason for asking, was simply that, on Monday Mr. Moor here was asking me about what a Lugger’s expenses were, and I felt it silly not to be able to tell him the least about it: and I have felt so when some one asked me before: and that is why I asked you. I neither have, nor ever had, any doubt of your doing your best: and you ought not to think so.
“You must please yourself entirely about Plymouth: I only wish to say that I had not spoken as if I wanted you to go. Go by all means if you like.
“When I paid the Landlady of the Boat Inn for Newson and Jack she asked me if you had explained to me about the Grog business. I said that you could not understand it at first, but afterwards supposed that others might have been treated at night. She said—Yes; drinking rum-flip till two in the morning. She says it was Newson’s doing, but I think you should have told me at once, particularly as your not doing so left me with some suspicion of the Landlady’s fair dealing. You did not choose to leave the blame to Newson, I suppose, but I think I deserve the truth at your hands as much as he does the concealment of it.
“Yours,
“E. FG.”
Mr. Moor was FitzGerald’s Woodbridge lawyer, and no doubt he and other friends of FitzGerald thought that the affairs of the partnership of FitzGerald and Fletcher were not carried on with such precision as was desirable. Possibly they were right. But then, Posh couldn’t be precise. I have failed to get any intelligible account out of Posh as to that rum-flip orgy. All he could do was to chuckle. The question of loyalty raised in the letter is a nice one. But Posh and his kind would only answer it in one way. They would regard it as treachery to their order to betray each other to a “gennleman,” however kind the “gennleman,” may have been.
On April 4th FitzGerald wrote to Posh from Woodbridge:—
“I may be at Lowestoft some time next week. As it is I have still some engagements here; and, moreover, I have not been quite well.
“If you want to see me, you have only to come over here any day you choose. To-morrow (Sunday) there is a Train from Lowestoft which reaches Woodbridge at about 3 in the afternoon. I tell you this in case you might want to see or speak to me.
“Mr. Manby told me yesterday that there was a wonderful catch of Mackerel down in the West. I have no doubt that this warm weather and fine nights has to do with it. I believe that we are in for a spell of such weather:—but I suppose you have no thought of going Westward now.
“I have desired that a . . . [word missing] of the Green Paint which Mr. Silver used should be sent to you. But do not you wait for it, if you want to be about the Lugger at once. The paint will keep for another time: and I suppose that the sooner the Lugger is afloat this hot and dry weather the better.
“Remember me to your Family.
“Yours always,
“E. FG.”
Mr. Manby has been already mentioned, and we have previously heard of the excellence of Mr. Silver’s green paint. But this letter must have been almost the last written by the sleeping partner before the termination of the partnership; for on April the 12th Mr. W. T. Balls, of Lowestoft, valued the Meum and Tuum, and “Herring and Mackerel Nets, Bowls, Warpropes, Ballast, and miscellaneous Fishing Stock belonging jointly to Edward FitzGerald and Joseph Fletcher.”
FitzGerald had started Posh, put him on his legs, and, as he believed, given him a chance to become a successful “owner.”
But the poet was weary of the partnership. He had found it impossible to persuade Posh to keep accounts such as should be kept in every business, and had been disappointed more than once by the intemperance of the man. But as yet the kindly, generous-hearted gentleman had no thought of breaking with his protégé altogether, or of depriving him of the use of the Meum and Tuum or Henrietta, both of which had been bought with his, FitzGerald’s, money. But he would no longer be a partner. So Mr. Balls was called in to value the stock-in-trade, with a view to arranging that a bill of sale for the half-value to which FitzGerald was entitled should be given him, and that Posh should thereafter carry on the business of a herring-boat owner by himself, subject to the charge in favour of his old “guv’nor.”
Despite the various “squalls,” there had, as yet, been no serious quarrel between these two. Indeed, FitzGerald’s kind heart
never forgot Posh, and the fascination of the man. But for the future FitzGerald and Posh were no longer partners. FitzGerald’s experience as a “herring merchant” was at an end.