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Amelia, a novel by Henry Fielding

VOLUME II - BOOK VIII - CHAPTER I

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_ Chapter I - Being the first chapter of the eighth book.


The history must now look a little backwards to those circumstances
which led to the catastrophe mentioned at the end of the last book.

When Amelia went out in the morning she left her children to the care
of her husband. In this amiable office he had been engaged near an
hour, and was at that very time lying along on the floor, and his
little things crawling and playing about him, when a most violent
knock was heard at the door; and immediately a footman, running
upstairs, acquainted him that his lady was taken violently ill, and
carried into Mrs. Chenevix's toy-shop.

Booth no sooner heard this account, which was delivered with great
appearance of haste and earnestness, than he leapt suddenly from the
floor, and, leaving his children, roaring at the news of their
mother's illness, in strict charge with his maid, he ran as fast as
his legs could carry him to the place; or towards the place rather:
for, before he arrived at the shop, a gentleman stopt him full butt,
crying, "Captain, whither so fast?"--Booth answered eagerly, "Whoever
you are, friend, don't ask me any questions now."--"You must pardon
me, captain," answered the gentleman; "but I have a little business
with your honour--In short, captain, I have a small warrant here in my
pocket against your honour, at the suit of one Dr Harrison." "You are
a bailiff then?" says Booth. "I am an officer, sir," answered the
other. "Well, sir, it is in vain to contend," cries Booth; "but let me
beg you will permit me only to step to Mrs. Chenevix's--I will attend
you, upon my honour, wherever you please; but my wife lies violently
ill there." "Oh, for that matter," answered the bailiff, "you may set
your heart at ease. Your lady, I hope, is very well; I assure you she
is not there. You will excuse me, captain, these are only stratagems
of war. _Bolus and virtus, quis in a hostess equirit?_" "Sir, I
honour your learning," cries Booth, "and could almost kiss you for
what you tell me. I assure you I would forgive you five hundred
arrests for such a piece of news. Well, sir, and whither am I to go
with you?" "O, anywhere: where your honour pleases," cries the
bailiff. "Then suppose we go to Brown's coffee-house," said the
prisoner. "No," answered the bailiff, "that will not do; that's in the
verge of the court." "Why then, to the nearest tavern," said Booth.
"No, not to a tavern," cries the other, "that is not a place of
security; and you know, captain, your honour is a shy cock; I have
been after your honour these three months. Come, sir, you must go to
my house, if you please." "With all my heart," answered Booth, "if it
be anywhere hereabouts." "Oh, it is but a little ways off," replied
the bailiff; "it is only in Gray's-inn-lane, just by almost." He then
called a coach, and desired his prisoner to walk in.

Booth entered the coach without any resistance, which, had he been
inclined to make, he must have plainly perceived would have been
ineffectual, as the bailiff appeared to have several followers at
hand, two of whom, beside the commander in chief, mounted with him
into the coach. As Booth was a sweet-tempered man, as well as somewhat
of a philosopher, he behaved with all the good-humour imaginable, and
indeed, with more than his companions; who, however, shewed him what
they call civility, that is, they neither struck him nor spit in his
face.

Notwithstanding the pleasantry which Booth endeavoured to preserve, he
in reality envied every labourer whom he saw pass by him in his way.
The charms of liberty, against his will, rushed on his mind; and he
could not avoid suggesting to himself how much more happy was the
poorest wretch who, without controul, could repair to his homely
habitation and to his family, compared to him, who was thus violently,
and yet lawfully, torn away from the company of his wife and children.
And their condition, especially that of his Amelia, gave his heart
many a severe and bitter pang.

At length he arrived at the bailiff's mansion, and was ushered into a
room in which were several persons. Booth desired to be alone; upon
which the bailiff waited on him up-stairs into an apartment, the
windows of which were well fortified with iron bars, but the walls had
not the least outwork raised before them; they were, indeed, what is
generally called naked; the bricks having been only covered with a
thin plaster, which in many places was mouldered away.

The first demand made upon Booth was for coach-hire, which amounted to
two shillings, according to the bailiff's account; that being just
double the legal fare. He was then asked if he did not chuse a bowl of
punch? to which he having answered in the negative, the bailiff
replied, "Nay, sir, just as you please. I don't ask you to drink, if
you don't chuse it; but certainly you know the custom; the house is
full of prisoners, and I can't afford gentlemen a room to themselves
for nothing."

Booth presently took this hint--indeed it was a pretty broad one--and
told the bailiff he should not scruple to pay him his price; but in
fact he never drank unless at his meals. "As to that, sir," cries the
bailiff, "it is just as your honour pleases. I scorn to impose upon
any gentleman in misfortunes: I wish you well out of them, for my
part. Your honour can take nothing amiss of me; I only does my duty,
what I am bound to do; and, as you says you don't care to drink
anything, what will you be pleased to have for dinner?"

Booth then complied in bespeaking a dish of meat, and told the bailiff
he would drink a bottle with him after dinner. He then desired the
favour of pen, ink, and paper, and a messenger; all which were
immediately procured him, the bailiff telling him he might send
wherever he pleased, and repeating his concern for Booth's
misfortunes, and a hearty desire to see the end of them.

The messenger was just dispatched with the letter, when who should
arrive but honest Atkinson? A soldier of the guards, belonging to the
same company with the serjeant, and who had known Booth at Gibraltar,
had seen the arrest, and heard the orders given to the coachman. This
fellow, accidentally meeting Atkinson, had acquainted him with the
whole affair.

At the appearance of Atkinson, joy immediately overspread the
countenance of Booth. The ceremonials which past between them are
unnecessary to be repeated. Atkinson was soon dispatched to the
attorney and to Mrs. Ellison, as the reader hath before heard from his
own mouth.

Booth now greatly lamented that he had writ to his wife. He thought
she might have been acquainted with the affair better by the serjeant.
Booth begged him, however, to do everything in his power to comfort
her; to assure her that he was in perfect health and good spirits; and
to lessen as much as possible the concern which he knew she would have
at the reading his letter.

The serjeant, however, as the reader hath seen, brought himself the
first account of the arrest. Indeed, the other messenger did not
arrive till a full hour afterwards. This was not owing to any slowness
of his, but to many previous errands which he was to execute before
the delivery of the letter; for, notwithstanding the earnest desire
which the bailiff had declared to see Booth out of his troubles, he
had ordered the porter, who was his follower, to call upon two or
three other bailiffs, and as many attorneys, to try to load his
prisoner with as many actions as possible.

Here the reader may be apt to conclude that the bailiff, instead of
being a friend, was really an enemy to poor Booth; but, in fact, he
was not so. His desire was no more than to accumulate bail-bonds; for
the bailiff was reckoned an honest and good sort of man in his way,
and had no more malice against the bodies in his custody than a
butcher hath to those in his: and as the latter, when he takes his
knife in hand, hath no idea but of the joints into which he is to cut
the carcase; so the former, when he handles his writ, hath no other
design but to cut out the body into as many bail-bonds as possible. As
to the life of the animal, or the liberty of the man, they are
thoughts which never obtrude themselves on either. _

Read next: VOLUME II: BOOK VIII: CHAPTER II

Read previous: VOLUME II: BOOK VII: CHAPTER X

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