CHAPTER VI
_Is wholly devoted to a Full and Faithful Report of the Memorable Trial of Bardell against Pickwick_
"I wonder what the foreman of the jury, whoever he'll be, has got forbreakfast," said Mr. Snodgrass, by way of keeping up a conversation onthe eventful morning of the fourteenth of February.
"Ah!" said Perker, "I hope he's got a good one."
"Why so?" inquired Mr. Pickwick.
"Highly important; very important, my dear sir," replied Perker. "Agood, contented, well-breakfasted juryman, is a capital thing to gethold of. Discontented or hungry jurymen, my dear sir, always find forthe plaintiff."
"Bless my heart," said Mr. Pickwick, looking very blank; "what do theydo that for?"
"Why, I don't know," replied the little man, coolly; "saves time,I suppose. If it's near the dinner-time, the foreman takes out hiswatch when the jury has retired, and says, 'Dear me, gentlemen, tenminutes to five, I declare! I dine at five, gentlemen.' So do I,'says everybody else, except two men who ought to have dined at three,and seem more than half disposed to stand out in consequence. Theforeman smiles, and puts up his watch:--'Well, gentlemen, what do wesay, plaintiff or defendant, gentlemen? I rather think, so far as Iam concerned, gentlemen,--I say, I rather think,--but don't let thatinfluence you--I _rather_ think the plaintiff's the man.' Upon this,two or three other men are sure to say that they think so too--as ofcourse they do; and then they get on very unanimously and comfortably.Ten minutes past nine!" said the little man, looking at his watch."Time we were off, my dear sir; breach of promise trial--court isgenerally full in such cases. You had better ring for a coach, my dearsir, or we shall be rather late."
Mr. Pickwick immediately rang the bell; and a coach having beenprocured, the four Pickwickians and Mr. Perker ensconced themselvestherein, and drove to Guildhall; Sam Weller, Mr. Lowten, and the bluebag, following in a cab.
"Lowten," said Perker, when they reached the outer hall of the court,"put Mr. Pickwick's friends in the students' box; Mr. Pickwick himselfhad better sit by me. This way, my dear sir, this way." Taking Mr.Pickwick by the coat-sleeve, the little man led him to the low seatjust beneath the desks of the King's Counsel, which is constructed forthe convenience of attorneys, who from that spot can whisper into theear of the leading counsel in the case, any instructions that may benecessary during the progress of the trial. The occupants of this seatare invisible to the great body of spectators, inasmuch as they sit ona much lower level than either the barristers or the audience, whoseseats are raised above the floor. Of course they have their backs toboth, and their faces towards the judge.
"That's the witness-box, I suppose?" said Mr. Pickwick, pointing to akind of pulpit, with a brass rail, on his left hand.
"That's the witness-box, my dear sir," replied Perker, disinterring aquantity of papers from the blue bag, which Lowten had just depositedat his feet.
"And that," said Mr. Pickwick, pointing to a couple of enclosed seatson his right, "that's where the jurymen sit, is it not?"
"The identical place, my dear sir," replied Perker, tapping the lid ofhis snuff-box.
Mr. Pickwick stood up in a state of great agitation, and took aglance at the court. There were already a pretty large sprinklingof spectators in the gallery, and a numerous muster of gentlemen inwigs, in the barristers' seats: who presented, as a body, all thatpleasing and extensive variety of nose and whisker for which the barof England is so justly celebrated. Such of the gentlemen as had abrief to carry, carried it in as conspicuous a manner as possible, andoccasionally scratched their noses therewith, to impress the fact morestrongly on the observation of the spectators. Other gentlemen, whohad no briefs to show, carried under their arms goodly octavos with ared label behind, and that under-done-pie-crust-coloured cover, whichis technically known as "law calf." Others, who had neither briefs norbooks, thrust their hands into their pockets, and looked as wise asthey conveniently could; others, again, moved here and there with greatrestlessness and earnestness of manner, content to awaken thereby theadmiration and astonishment of the uninitiated strangers. The whole, tothe great wonderment of Mr. Pickwick, were divided into little groups,who were chatting and discussing the news of the day in the mostunfeeling manner possible,--just as if no trial at all were coming on.
A bow from Mr. Phunky, as he entered, and took his seat behind the rowappropriated to the King's Counsel, attracted Mr. Pickwick's attention;and he had scarcely returned it, when Mr. Serjeant Snubbin appeared,followed by Mr. Mallard, who half hid the Serjeant behind a largecrimson bag, which he placed on the table, and after shaking handswith Perker, withdrew. Then there entered two or three more Serjeants;and among them, one with a fat body and a red face, who nodded in afriendly manner to Mr. Serjeant Snubbin, and said it was a fine morning.
"Who's that red-faced man, who said it was a fine morning, and noddedto our counsel?" whispered Mr. Pickwick.
"Mr. Serjeant Buzfuz," replied Perker. "He's opposed to us; he leads onthe other side. That gentleman behind him is Mr. Skimpin, his junior."
Mr. Pickwick was on the point of inquiring, with great abhorrence ofthe man's cold-blooded villainy, how Mr. Serjeant Buzfuz, who wascounsel for the opposite party, dared to presume to tell Mr. SerjeantSnubbin, who was counsel for him, that it was a fine morning, when hewas interrupted by a general rising of the barristers, and a loud cryof "Silence!" from the officers of the court. Looking round, he foundthat this was caused by the entrance of the judge.
Mr. Justice Stareleigh (who sat in the absence of the Chief Justice,occasioned by indisposition), was a most particularly short man, andso fat, that he seemed all face and waistcoat. He rolled in, upon twolittle turned legs, and having bobbed gravely to the bar, who bobbedgravely to him, put his little legs underneath his table, and hislittle three-cornered hat upon it; and when Mr. Justice Stareleighhad done this, all you could see of him was two queer little eyes,one broad pink face, and somewhere about half of a big and verycomical-looking wig.
The judge had no sooner taken his seat, than the officer on the floorof the court called out "Silence!" in a commanding tone, upon whichanother officer in the gallery cried "Silence!" in an angry manner,whereupon three or four more ushers shouted "Silence!" in a voice ofindignant remonstrance. This being done, a gentleman in black, who satbelow the judge, proceeded to call over the names of the jury; andafter a great deal of bawling, it was discovered that only ten specialjurymen were present. Upon this, Mr. Serjeant Buzfuz prayed a _tales_;the gentleman in black then proceeded to press into the special jury,two of the common jurymen; and a greengrocer and a chemist were caughtdirectly.
"Answer to your names, gentlemen, that you may be sworn," said thegentleman in black. "Richard Upwitch."
"Here," said the greengrocer.
"Thomas Groffin."
"Here," said the chemist.
"Take the book, gentlemen. You shall well and truly try----"
"I beg this court's pardon," said the chemist, who was a tall, thin,yellow-visaged man, "but I hope this court will excuse my attendance."
"On what grounds, sir?" said Mr. Justice Stareleigh.
"I have no assistant, my Lord," said the chemist.
"I can't help that, sir," replied Mr. Justice Stareleigh. "You shouldhire one."
"I can't afford it, my Lord," rejoined the chemist.
"Then you ought to be able to afford it, sir," said the judge,reddening; for Mr. Justice Stareleigh's temper bordered on theirritable, and brooked no contradiction.
"I know I _ought_ to do, if I got on as well as I deserved, but Idon't, my Lord," answered the chemist.
"Swear the gentleman," said the judge, peremptorily.
The officer had got no further than the "You shall well and truly try,"when he was again interrupted by the chemist.
"I am to be sworn, my Lord, am I?" said the chemist.
"Certainly, sir," said the testy little judge.
"Very well, my Lord," replied the chemist, in a resigned manner. "Thenthere'll b
e murder before this trial's over; that's all. Swear me, ifyou please, sir;" and sworn the chemist was, before the judge couldfind words to utter.
"I merely wanted to observe, my Lord," said the chemist, taking hisseat with great deliberation, "that I've left nobody but an errand-boyin my shop. He is a very nice boy, my Lord, but he is not acquaintedwith drugs; and I know that the prevailing impression on his mind,is that Epsom salts means oxalic acid; and syrup of senna, laudanum.That's all, my Lord." With this, the tall chemist composed himselfinto a comfortable attitude, and, assuming a pleasant expression ofcountenance, appeared to have prepared himself for the worst.
Mr. Pickwick was regarding the chemist with feelings of the deepesthorror, when a slight sensation was perceptible in the body of thecourt; and immediately afterwards Mrs. Bardell, supported by Mrs.Cluppins, was led in, and placed, in a drooping state, at the otherend of the seat on which Mr. Pickwick sat. An extra-sized umbrellawas then handed in by Mr. Dodson, and a pair of pattens by Mr. Fogg,each of whom had prepared a most sympathising and melancholy face forthe occasion. Mrs. Sanders then appeared, leading in Master Bardell.At sight of her child, Mrs. Bardell started; suddenly recollectingherself, she kissed him in a frantic manner; then relapsing into astate of hysterical imbecility, the good lady requested to be informedwhere she was. In reply to this, Mrs. Cluppins and Mrs. Sanders turnedtheir heads away and wept, while Messrs. Dodson and Fogg entreated theplaintiff to compose herself. Serjeant Buzfuz rubbed his eyes very hardwith a large white handkerchief, and gave an appealing look towardsthe jury, while the judge was visibly affected, and several of thebeholders tried to cough down their emotions.
"Very good notion that, indeed," whispered Perker to Mr. Pickwick."Capital fellows those Dodson and Fogg; excellent ideas of effect, mydear sir, excellent."
As Perker spoke, Mrs. Bardell began to recover by slow degrees, whileMrs. Cluppins, after a careful survey of Master Bardell's buttons andthe button-holes to which they severally belonged, placed him on thefloor of the court in front of his mother,--a commanding position inwhich he could not fail to awaken the full commiseration and sympathyof both judge and jury. This was not done without considerableopposition, and many tears, on the part of the young gentleman himself,who had certain inward misgivings that the placing him within thefull glare of the judge's eye was only a formal prelude to his beingimmediately ordered away for instant execution, or for transportationbeyond the seas, during the whole term of his natural life, at the veryleast.
"Bardell and Pickwick," cried the gentleman in black, calling on thecase, which stood first on the list.
"I am for the plaintiff, my Lord," said Mr. Serjeant Buzfuz.
"Who is with you, brother Buzfuz?" said the judge. Mr. Skimpin bowed,to intimate that he was.
"I appear for the defendant, my Lord," said Mr. Serjeant Snubbin.
"Anybody with you, brother Snubbin?" inquired the court.
"Mr. Phunky, my Lord," replied Serjeant Snubbin.
"Serjeant Buzfuz and Mr. Skimpin for the plaintiff," said the judge,writing down the names in his note-book, and reading as he wrote; "forthe defendant, Serjeant Snubbin and Mr. Monkey."
"Beg your Lordship's pardon, Phunky."
"Oh, very good," said the judge; "I never had the pleasure of hearingthe gentleman's name before." Here Mr. Phunky bowed and smiled and thejudge bowed and smiled too, and then Mr. Phunky, blushing into the verywhites of his eyes, tried to look as if he didn't know that everybodywas gazing at him: a thing which no man ever succeeded in doing yet,or, in all reasonable probability, ever will.
"Go on," said the judge.
The ushers again called silence, and Mr. Skimpin proceeded to "openthe case;" and the case appeared to have very little inside it when hehad opened it, for he kept such particulars as he knew, completely tohimself, and sat down, after a lapse of three minutes, leaving the juryin precisely the same advanced stage of wisdom as they were in before.
Serjeant Buzfuz then rose with all the majesty and dignity which thegrave nature of the proceedings demanded, and having whispered toDodson, and conferred briefly with Fogg, pulled his gown over hisshoulders, settled his wig, and addressed the jury.
Serjeant Buzfuz began by saying, that never, in the whole course ofhis professional experience--never, from the very first moment ofhis applying himself to the study and practice of the law--had heapproached a case with feelings of such deep emotion, or with such aheavy sense of the responsibility imposed upon him--a responsibility,he would say, which he could never have supported, were he not buoyedup and sustained by a conviction so strong, that it amounted topositive certainty that the cause of truth and justice, or, in otherwords, the cause of his much-injured and most oppressed client, mustprevail with the high-minded and intelligent dozen of men whom he nowsaw in that box before him.
Counsel usually begin in this way, because it puts the jury on the verybest terms with themselves, and makes them think what sharp fellowsthey must be. A visible effect was produced immediately; severaljurymen beginning to take voluminous notes with the utmost eagerness.
"You have heard from my learned friend, gentlemen," continued SerjeantBuzfuz, well knowing that, from the learned friend alluded to, thegentlemen of the jury had heard just nothing at all--"you haveheard from my learned friend, gentlemen, that this is an action fora breach of promise of marriage, in which the damages are laid at?1500. But you have not heard from my learned friend, inasmuch asit did not come within my learned friend's province to tell you,what are the facts and circumstances of the case. Those facts andcircumstances, gentlemen, you shall hear detailed by me and proved bythe unimpeachable female whom I will place in that box before you."
Here Mr. Serjeant Buzfuz, with a tremendous emphasis on the word "box,"smote his table with a mighty sound, and glanced at Dodson and Fogg,who nodded admiration of the serjeant, and indignant defiance of thedefendant.
"The plaintiff, gentlemen," continued Serjeant Buzfuz, in a soft andmelancholy voice, "the plaintiff is a widow; yes, gentlemen, a widow.The late Mr. Bardell, after enjoying, for many years, the esteem andconfidence of his sovereign, as one of the guardians of his royalrevenues, glided almost imperceptibly from the world, to seek elsewherefor that repose and peace which a custom-house can never afford."
At this pathetic description of the decease of Mr. Bardell, who hadbeen knocked on the head with a quart-pot in a public-house cellar, thelearned serjeant's voice faltered, and he proceeded with emotion:
"Some time before his death, he had stamped his likeness upon a littleboy. With this little boy, the only pledge of her departed exciseman,Mrs. Bardell shrunk from the world, and courted the retirement andtranquillity of Goswell Street; and here she placed in her frontparlour window a written placard, bearing this inscription--'Apartmentsfurnished for a single gentleman. Inquire within.'" Here SerjeantBuzfuz paused, while several gentlemen of the jury took a note of thedocument.
"There is no date to that, is there, sir?" inquired a juror.
"There is no date, gentlemen," replied Serjeant Buzfuz: "but I aminstructed to say that it was put in the plaintiff's parlour-windowjust this time three years. I entreat the attention of the jury tothe wording of this document. 'Apartments furnished for a singlegentleman'! Mrs. Bardell's opinions of the opposite sex, gentlemen,were derived from a long contemplation of the inestimable qualitiesof her lost husband. She had no fear, she had no distrust, she had nosuspicion, all was confidence and reliance. 'Mr. Bardell,' said thewidow; 'Mr. Bardell was a man of honour, Mr. Bardell was a man ofhis word, Mr. Bardell was no deceiver, Mr. Bardell was once a singlegentleman himself; _to_ single gentlemen I look for protection, forassistance, for comfort, and for consolation; _in_ single gentlemenI shall perpetually see something to remind me of what Mr. Bardellwas, when he first won my young and untried affections; to a singlegentleman, then, shall my lodgings be let.' Actuated by this beautifuland touching impulse (among the best impulses of our imperfect nature,gentlemen), the lonely and desolate widow dried her
tears, furnishedthe first floor, caught the innocent boy to her maternal bosom, and putthe bill up in her parlour-window. Did it remain there long? No. Theserpent was on the watch, the train was laid, the mine was preparing,the sapper and miner was at work. Before the bill had been in theparlour-window three days--three days--gentlemen--a Being erect upontwo legs, and bearing all the outward semblance of a man, and not ofa monster, knocked at the door of Mrs. Bardell's house. He inquiredwithin; he took the lodgings; and on the very next day he entered intopossession of them. This man was Pickwick--Pickwick, the defendant."
Serjeant Buzfuz, who had proceeded with such volubility that his facewas perfectly crimson, here paused for breath. The silence awoke Mr.Justice Stareleigh, who immediately wrote down something with a pen,without any ink in it, and looked unusually profound, to impress thejury with the belief that he always thought most deeply with his eyesshut. Serjeant Buzfuz proceeded:
"Of this man Pickwick I will say little; the subject presents but fewattractions; and I, gentlemen, am not the man, nor are you, gentlemen,the men, to delight in the contemplation of revolting heartlessness,and of systematic villainy."
Here Mr. Pickwick, who had been writhing in silence for some time, gavea violent start, as if some vague idea of assaulting Serjeant Buzfuz,in the august presence of justice and law, suggested itself to hismind. An admonitory gesture from Perker restrained him, and he listenedto the learned gentleman's continuation with a look of indignation,which contrasted forcibly with the admiring faces of Mrs. Cluppins andMrs. Sanders.
"I say systematic villainy, gentlemen," said Serjeant Buzfuz, lookingthrough Mr. Pickwick and talking _at_ him; "and when I say systematicvillainy, let me tell the defendant Pickwick, if he be in court, as Iam informed he is, that it would have been more decent in him, morebecoming, in better judgment, and in better taste, if he had stoppedaway. Let me tell him, gentlemen, that any gestures of dissent ordisapprobation in which he may indulge in this court will not go downwith you; that you will know how to value and how to appreciate them;and let me tell him further, as my lord will tell you, gentlemen, thata counsel, in the discharge of his duty to his client, is neither tobe intimidated nor bullied, nor put down; and that any attempt to doeither the one or the other, or the first or the last, will recoil onthe head of the attempter, be he plaintiff or be he defendant, be hisname Pickwick, or Noakes, or Stoakes, or Stiles, or Brown, or Thompson."
This little divergence from the subject in hand had, of course, theintended effect of turning all eyes to Mr. Pickwick. Serjeant Buzfuz,having partially recovered from the state of moral elevation into whichhe had lashed himself, resumed:
"I shall show you, gentlemen, that for two years Pickwick continued toreside constantly, and without interruption or intermission, at Mrs.Bardell's house. I shall show you that Mrs. Bardell, during the wholeof that time, waited on him, attended to his comforts, cooked hismeals, looked out his linen for the washerwoman when it went abroad,darned, aired, and prepared it for wear, when it came home, and, inshort, enjoyed his fullest trust and confidence. I shall show youthat, on many occasions, he gave halfpence, and on some occasions evensixpences, to her little boy; and I shall prove to you, by a witnesswhose testimony it will be impossible for my learned friend to weakenor controvert, that on one occasion he patted the boy on the head, and,after inquiring whether he had won _alley tors_ or _commoneys_ lately(both of which I understand to be a particular species of marblesmuch prized by the youth of this town), made use of this remarkableexpression: 'How should you like to have another father?' I shall proveto you, gentlemen, that about a year ago, Pickwick suddenly beganto absent himself from home, during long intervals, as if with theintention of gradually breaking off from my client; but I shall showyou also, that his resolution was not at that time sufficiently strong,or that his better feelings conquered, if better feelings he has, orthat the charms and accomplishments of my client prevailed againsthis unmanly intentions; by proving to you, that on one occasion, whenhe returned from the country, he distinctly and in terms, offered hermarriage: previously, however, taking special care that there should beno witness to their solemn contract; and I am in a situation to proveto you, on the testimony of three of his own friends--most unwillingwitnesses, gentlemen--most unwilling witnesses--that on that morning hewas discovered by them holding the plaintiff in his arms, and soothingher agitation by his caresses and endearments."
A visible impression was produced upon the auditors by this part ofthe learned serjeant's address. Drawing forth two very small scraps ofpaper, he proceeded:
"And now, gentlemen, but one word more. Two letters have passed betweenthese parties, letters which are admitted to be in the handwritingof the defendant, and which speak volumes indeed. These letters,too, bespeak the character of the man. They are not open, fervent,eloquent epistles, breathing nothing but the language of affectionateattachment. They are covert, sly, underhanded communications,but, fortunately, far more conclusive than if couched in the mostglowing language and the most poetic imagery--letters that mustbe viewed with a cautious and suspicious eye--letters that wereevidently intended at the time, by Pickwick, to mislead and deludeany third parties into whose hands they might fall. Let me read thefirst:--'Garraway's, twelve o'clock. Dear Mrs. B.--Chops and Tomatosauce. Yours, +Pickwick+.' Gentlemen, what does this mean? 'Chops andTomato sauce. Yours, Pickwick!' Chops! Gracious heavens! and Tomatosauce! Gentlemen, is the happiness of a sensitive and confiding femaleto be trifled away by such shallow artifices as these? The next has nodate whatever, which is in itself suspicious. 'Dear Mrs. B., I shallnot be at home till to-morrow. Slow coach.' And then follows this veryremarkable expression. 'Don't trouble yourself about the warming-pan.'The warming-pan! Why, gentlemen, who _does_ trouble himself abouta warming-pan? When was the peace of mind of man or woman broken ordisturbed by a warming-pan, which is in itself a harmless, a useful,and I will add, gentlemen, a comforting article of domestic furniture?Why is Mrs. Bardell so earnestly entreated not to agitate herselfabout this warming-pan, unless (as is no doubt the case) it is a merecover for hidden fire--a mere substitute for some endearing word ofpromise, agreeably to a preconcerted system of correspondence, artfullycontrived by Pickwick with a view to his contemplated desertion, andwhich I am not in a condition to explain? And what does this allusionto the slow coach mean? For aught I know, it may be a reference toPickwick himself, who has most unquestionably been a criminally slowcoach during the whole of this transaction, but whose speed will now bevery unexpectedly accelerated, and whose wheels, gentlemen, as he willfind to his cost, will very soon be greased by you!"
Mr. Serjeant Buzfuz paused in this place, to see whether the jurysmiled at his joke; but as nobody took it but the greengrocer, whosesensitiveness on the subject was very probably occasioned by his havingsubjected a chaise-cart to the process in question on that identicalmorning, the learned serjeant considered it advisable to undergo aslight relapse into the dismals before he concluded.
"But enough of this, gentlemen," said Mr. Serjeant Buzfuz; "it isdifficult to smile with an aching heart; it is ill jesting when ourdeepest sympathies are awakened. My client's hopes and prospects areruined, and it is no figure of speech to say that her occupation isgone indeed. The bill is down--but there is no tenant. Eligible singlegentlemen pass and repass--but there is no invitation for them toinquire within or without. All is gloom and silence in the house; eventhe voice of the child is hushed; his infant sports are disregardedwhen his mother weeps; his 'alley tors' and his 'commoneys' are alikeneglected; he forgets the long familiar cry of 'knuckle-down,' and attip-cheese, or odd and even, his hand is out. But Pickwick, gentlemen,Pickwick, the ruthless destroyer of this domestic oasis in the desertof Goswell Street--Pickwick, who has choked up the well, and thrownashes on the sward--Pickwick, who comes before you to-day with hisheartless Tomato sauce and warming-pans--Pickwick still rears his headwith unblushing effrontery, and gazes without a sigh on the ruin hehas made. Damages, gentlemen--heavy damages--is the only punishm
entwith which you can visit him; the only recompense you can award tomy client. And for those damages she now appeals to an enlightened,a high-minded, a right-feeling, a conscientious, a dispassionate,a sympathising, a contemplative jury of her civilised countrymen."With this beautiful peroration, Mr. Serjeant Buzfuz sat down, and Mr.Justice Stareleigh woke up.
"Call Elizabeth Cluppins," said Serjeant Buzfuz, rising a minuteafterwards, with renewed vigour.
The nearest usher called for Elizabeth Tuppins; another one, at alittle distance off, demanded Elizabeth Jupkins; and a third rushed ina breathless state into King Street, and screamed for Elizabeth Muffinstill he was hoarse.
Meanwhile Mrs. Cluppins, with the combined assistance of Mrs.Bardell, Mrs. Sanders, Mr. Dodson, and Mr. Fogg, was hoisted into thewitness-box; and when she was safely perched on the top step, Mrs.Bardell stood on the bottom one, with the pocket-handkerchief andpattens in one hand, and a glass bottle that might hold about a quarterof a pint of smelling salts in the other, ready for any emergency. Mrs.Sanders, whose eyes were intently fixed on the judge's face, plantedherself close by, with the large umbrella: keeping her right thumbpressed on the spring with an earnest countenance, as if she were fullyprepared to put it up at a moment's notice.
"Mrs. Cluppins," said Serjeant Buzfuz, "pray compose yourself,ma'am." Of course, directly Mrs. Cluppins was desired to composeherself she sobbed with increased vehemence, and gave divers alarmingmanifestations of an approaching fainting fit, or, as she afterwardssaid, of her feelings being too many for her.
"Do you recollect, Mrs. Cluppins," said Serjeant Buzfuz, after a fewunimportant questions, "do you recollect being in Mrs. Bardell's backone pair of stairs, on one particular morning in July last, when shewas dusting Pickwick's apartment?"
"Yes, my Lord and Jury, I do," replied Mrs. Cluppins.
"Mr. Pickwick's sitting-room was the first-floor front, I believe?"
"Yes, it were, sir," replied Mrs. Cluppins.
"What were you doing in the back room, ma'am?" inquired the littlejudge.
"My Lord and Jury," said Mrs. Cluppins, with interesting agitation, "Iwill not deceive you."
"You had better not, ma'am," said the little judge.
"I was there," resumed Mrs. Cluppins, "unbeknown to Mrs. Bardell; I hadbeen out with a little basket, gentlemen, to buy three pound of redkidney purtaties, which was three pound tuppense ha'penny, when I seeMrs. Bardell's street door on the jar."
"On the what?" exclaimed the little judge.
"Partly open, my Lord," said Serjeant Snubbin.
"She _said_ on the jar," said the little judge, with a cunning look.
"It's all the same, my Lord," said Serjeant Snubbin. The little judgelooked doubtful and said he'd make a note of it. Mrs. Cluppins thenresumed:
"I walked in, gentlemen, just to say good mornin', and went, in apermiscuous manner, up-stairs, and into the back room. Gentlemen, therewas the sound of voices in the front room, and----"
"And you listened, I believe, Mrs. Cluppins?" said Serjeant Buzfuz.
"Beggin' your pardon, sir," replied Mrs. Cluppins, in a majesticmanner, "I would scorn the haction. The voices was very loud, sir, andforced themselves upon my ear."
"Well, Mrs. Cluppins, you were not listening, but you heard the voices.Was one of these voices Pickwick's?"
"Yes, it were, sir."
And Mrs. Cluppins, after distinctly stating that Mr. Pickwick addressedhimself to Mrs. Bardell, repeated by slow degrees, and by dint ofmany questions, the conversation with which our readers are alreadyacquainted.
The jury looked suspicious, and Mr. Serjeant Buzfuz smiled and satdown. They looked positively awful when Serjeant Snubbin intimated thathe should not cross-examine the witness, for Mr. Pickwick wished it tobe distinctly stated that it was due to her to say, that her accountwas in substance correct.
Mrs. Cluppins having once broken the ice, thought it a favourableopportunity for entering into a short dissertation on her own domesticaffairs; so, she straightway proceeded to inform the court that shewas the mother of eight children at that present speaking, and thatshe entertained confident expectations of presenting Mr. Cluppins witha ninth, somewhere about that day six months. At this interestingpoint, the little judge interposed most irascibly; and the effect ofthe interposition was, that both the worthy lady and Mrs. Sanders werepolitely taken out of court, under the escort of Mr. Jackson, withoutfurther parley.
"Nathaniel Winkle!" said Mr. Skimpin.
"Here!" replied a feeble voice. Mr. Winkle entered the witness-box, andhaving been duly sworn, bowed to the judge with considerable deference.
"Don't look at me, sir," said the judge, sharply, in acknowledgment ofthe salute; "look at the jury."
Mr. Winkle obeyed the mandate, and looked at the place where he thoughtit most probable the jury might be; for seeing anything in his thenstate of intellectual complication was wholly out of the question.
Mr. Winkle was then examined by Mr. Skimpin, who, being a promisingyoung man of two or three and forty, was of course anxious to confuse awitness who was notoriously predisposed in favour of the other side, asmuch as he could.
"Now, sir," said Mr. Skimpin, "have the goodness to let his Lordshipand the jury know what your name is, will you?" and Mr. Skimpininclined his head on one side to listen with great sharpness to theanswer, and glanced at the jury meanwhile, as if to imply that herather expected Mr. Winkle's natural taste for perjury would induce himto give some name which did not belong to him.
"Winkle," replied the witness.
"What's your Christian name, sir?" angrily inquired the little judge.
"Nathaniel, sir."
"Daniel,--any other name?"
"Nathaniel, sir--my Lord, I mean."
"Nathaniel Daniel, or Daniel Nathaniel?"
"No, my Lord, only Nathaniel; not Daniel at all."
"What did you tell me it was Daniel for, then, sir?" inquired the judge.
"I didn't, my Lord," replied Mr. Winkle.
"You did, sir," replied the judge, with a severe frown. "How could Ihave got Daniel on my notes, unless you told me so, sir?"
This argument was, of course, unanswerable.
"Mr. Winkle has rather a short memory, my Lord," interposed Mr.Skimpin, with another glance at the jury. "We shall find means torefresh it before we have quite done with him, I dare say."
"You had better be careful, sir," said the little judge, with asinister look at the witness.
Poor Mr. Winkle bowed, and endeavoured to feign an easiness of mannerwhich, in his then state of confusion, gave him rather the air of adisconcerted pickpocket.
"Now, Mr. Winkle," said Mr. Skimpin, "attend to me, if you please,sir; and let me recommend you, for your own sake, to bear in mind hisLordship's injunction to be careful. I believe you are a particularfriend of Pickwick, the defendant, are you not?"
"I have known Mr. Pickwick now, as well as I recollect at this moment,nearly----"
"Pray, Mr. Winkle, do not evade the question. Are you, or are you not,a particular friend of the defendant's?"
"I was just about to say that----"
"Will you, or will you not, answer my question, sir?"
"If you don't answer the question you'll be committed, sir," interposedthe little judge, looking over his note-book.
"Come, sir," said Mr. Skimpin, "yes or no, if you please."
"Yes, I am," replied Mr. Winkle.
"Yes, you are. And why couldn't you say that at once, sir? Perhaps youknow the plaintiff, too? Eh, Mr. Winkle?"
"I don't know her; I've seen her."
"Oh, you don't know her, but you've seen her? Now, have the goodness totell the gentlemen of the jury what you mean by _that_, Mr. Winkle."
"I mean that I am not intimate with her, but I have seen her when Iwent to call on Mr. Pickwick in Goswell Street."
"How often have you seen her, sir?"
"How often?"
"Yes, Mr. Winkle, how often? I'll repeat the question for you a dozentimes
if you require it, sir." And the learned gentleman, with a firmand steady frown, placed his hands on his hips, and smiled suspiciouslyat the jury.
On this question there arose the edifying brow-beating, customary onsuch points. First of all, Mr. Winkle said it was quite impossible forhim to say how many times he had seen Mrs. Bardell. Then he was askedif he had seen her twenty times, to which he replied, "Certainly,--morethan that." Then he was asked whether he hadn't seen her a hundredtimes--whether he couldn't swear that he had seen her more thanfifty times--whether he didn't know that he had seen her at leastseventy-five times--and so forth; the satisfactory conclusion which wasarrived at, at last, being, that he had better take care of himself,and mind what he was about. The witness having been by these meansreduced to the requisite ebb of nervous perplexity, the examination wascontinued as follows:
"Pray Mr. Winkle, do you remember calling on the defendant Pickwick atthese apartments in the plaintiff's house in Goswell Street, on oneparticular morning, in the month of July last?"
"Yes, I do."
"Were you accompanied on that occasion by a friend of the name ofTupman, and another of the name of Snodgrass?"
"Yes, I was."
"Are they here?"
"Yes, they are," replied Mr. Winkle, looking very earnestly towards thespot where his friends were stationed.
"Pray attend to me, Mr. Winkle, and never mind your friends," said Mr.Skimpin, with another expressive look at the jury. "They must telltheir stories without any previous consultation with you, if nonehas yet taken place (another look at the jury). Now, sir, tell thegentlemen of the jury what you saw on entering the defendant's room,on this particular morning. Come; out with it, sir: we must have it,sooner or later."
"The defendant, Mr. Pickwick, was holding the plaintiff in his arms,with his hands clasping her waist," replied Mr. Winkle, with naturalhesitation, "and the plaintiff appeared to have fainted away."
"Did you hear the defendant say anything?"
"I heard him call Mrs. Bardell a good creature, and I heard him askher to compose herself, for what a situation it was, if anybody shouldcome, or words to that effect."
"Now, Mr. Winkle, I have only one more question to ask you, and I begyou to bear in mind his lordship's caution. Will you undertake to swearthat Pickwick, the defendant, did not say on the occasion in question,'My dear Mrs. Bardell, you're a good creature; compose yourself to thissituation, for to this situation you must come,' or words to _that_effect?"
"I didn't understand him so, certainly," said Mr. Winkle, astounded atthis ingenious dove-tailing of the few words he had heard. "I was onthe staircase, and couldn't hear distinctly; the impression on my mindis----"
"The gentlemen of the jury want none of the impressions on yourmind, Mr. Winkle, which I fear would be of little service to honest,straightforward men," interposed Mr. Skimpin. "You were on thestaircase, and didn't distinctly hear; but you will not swear thatMr. Pickwick did not make use of the expressions I have quoted? Do Iunderstand that?"
"No, I will not," replied Mr. Winkle; and down sat Mr. Skimpin with atriumphant countenance.
Mr. Pickwick's case had not gone off in so particularly happy a manner,up to this point, that it could very well afford to have any additionalsuspicion cast upon it. But as it could afford to be placed in a ratherbetter light, if possible, Mr. Phunky rose for the purpose of gettingsomething important out of Mr. Winkle in cross-examination. Whether hedid get anything important out of him will immediately appear.
"I believe, Mr. Winkle," said Mr. Phunky, "that Mr. Pickwick is not ayoung man?"
"Oh no," replied Mr. Winkle; "old enough to be my father."
"You have told my learned friend that you have known Mr. Pickwick along time. Had you ever any reason to suppose or believe that he wasabout to be married?"
"Oh no; certainly not;" replied Mr. Winkle with so much eagerness,that Mr. Phunky ought to have got him out of the box with all possibledespatch. Lawyers hold that there are two kinds of particularly badwitnesses: a reluctant witness, and a too-willing witness; it was Mr.Winkle's fate to figure in both characters.
"I will even go further than this, Mr. Winkle," continued Mr. Phunky ina most smooth and complacent manner. "Did you ever see anything in Mr.Pickwick's manner and conduct towards the opposite sex, to induce youto believe that he ever contemplated matrimony of late years, in anycase?"
"Oh no; certainly not," replied Mr. Winkle.
"Has his behaviour, when females have been in the case, always beenthat of a man who, having attained a pretty advanced period of life,content with his own occupations and amusements, treats them only as afather might his daughters?"
"Not the least doubt of it," replied Mr. Winkle, in the fulness of hisheart. "That is--yes--oh yes--certainly."
"You have never known anything in his behaviour towards Mrs. Bardell,or any other female, in the least degree suspicious?" said Mr. Phunky,preparing to sit down; for Serjeant Snubbin was winking at him.
"N--n--no," replied Mr. Winkle, "except on one trifling occasion which,I have no doubt, might be easily explained."
Now, if the unfortunate Mr. Phunky had sat down when Serjeant Snubbinwinked at him, or if Serjeant Buzfuz had stopped this irregularcross-examination at the outset (which he knew better than to do;observing Mr. Winkle's anxiety, and well knowing it would, in allprobability, lead to something serviceable to him), this unfortunateadmission would not have been elicited. The moment the words fell fromMr. Winkle's lips, Mr. Phunky sat down, and Serjeant Snubbin ratherhastily told him he might leave the box, which Mr. Winkle prepared todo with great readiness, when Serjeant Buzfuz stopped him.
"Stay, Mr. Winkle, stay!" said Serjeant Buzfuz. "Will your Lordshiphave the goodness to ask him, what this one instance of suspiciousbehaviour towards females, on the part of this gentleman, who is oldenough to be his father, was?"
"You hear what the learned counsel says, sir," observed the judge,turning to the miserable and agonised Mr. Winkle. "Describe theoccasion to which you refer."
"My Lord," said Mr. Winkle, trembling with anxiety, "I--I'd rather not."
"Perhaps so," said the little judge; "but you must."
Amid the profound silence of the whole court, Mr. Winkle faltered outthat the trifling circumstance of suspicion was Mr. Pickwick's beingfound in a lady's sleeping apartment at midnight; which had terminated,he believed, in the breaking off of the projected marriage of the ladyin question, and had led, he knew, to the whole party being forciblycarried before George Nupkins, Esq., magistrate and justice of thepeace for the borough of Ipswich!
"You may leave the box, sir," said Serjeant Snubbin. Mr. Winkle _did_leave the box, and rushed with delirious haste to the George andVulture, where he was discovered some hours afterwards by the waiter,groaning in a hollow and dismal manner, with his head buried beneaththe sofa cushions.
Tracy Tupman, and Augustus Snodgrass, were severally called into thebox; both corroborated the testimony of their unhappy friend; and eachwas driven to the verge of desperation by excessive badgering.
Susannah Sanders was then called, and examined by Serjeant Buzfuz,and cross-examined by Serjeant Snubbin. Had always said and believedthat Pickwick would marry Mrs. Bardell; knew that Mrs. Bardell'sbeing engaged to Pickwick was the current topic of conversation inthe neighbourhood, after the fainting in July; had been told itherself by Mrs. Mudberry which kept a mangle, and Mrs. Bunkin whichclear-starched, but did not see either Mrs. Mudberry or Mrs. Bunkin incourt. Had heard Pickwick ask the little boy how he should like to haveanother father. Did not know that Mrs. Bardell was at that time keepingcompany with the baker, but did know that the baker was then a singleman and is now married. Couldn't swear that Mrs. Bardell was not veryfond of the baker, but should think that the baker was not very fondof Mrs. Bardell, or he wouldn't have married somebody else. ThoughtMrs. Bardell fainted away on the morning in July, because Pickwickasked her to name the day: knew that she (witness) fainted away stonedead when Mr. Sanders asked _her_ to na
me the day, and believed thateverybody as called herself a lady would do the same, under similarcircumstances. Heard Pickwick ask the boy the question about themarbles, but upon her oath did not know the difference between an alleytor and a commoney.
By the +Court+--During the period of her keeping company with Mr.Sanders had received love-letters, like other ladies. In the course oftheir correspondence Mr. Sanders had often called her a "duck," butnever "chops," nor yet "tomato sauce." He was particularly fond ofducks. Perhaps if he had been as fond of chops and tomato sauce, hemight have called her that, as a term of affection.
Serjeant Buzfuz now rose with more importance than he had yetexhibited, if that were possible, and vociferated: "Call Samuel Weller."
It was quite unnecessary to call Samuel Weller; for Samuel Wellerstepped briskly into the box the instant his name was pronounced;and placing his hat on the floor, and his arms on the rail, took abird's-eye view of the bar, and a comprehensive survey of the bench,with a remarkably cheerful and lively aspect.
"What's your name, sir?" inquired the judge.
"Sam Weller, my Lord," replied that gentleman.
"Do you spell it with a 'V' or a 'W'?" inquired the judge.
"That depends upon the taste and fancy of the speller, my Lord,"replied Sam; "I never had occasion to spell it more than once or twicein my life, but I spells it with a 'V'."
Here a voice in the gallery exclaimed aloud, "Quite right, too,Samivel, quite right. Put it down a 'we,' my Lord, put it down a 'we'."
"Who is that who dares to address the court?" said the little judge,looking up. "Usher!"
"Yes, my Lord."
"Bring that person here instantly."
"Yes, my Lord."
But as the usher didn't find the person, he didn't bring him; and,after a great commotion, all the people who had got up to look for theculprit sat down again. The little judge turned to the witness as soonas his indignation would allow him to speak, and said,
"Do you know who that was, sir?"
"I rayther suspect it was my father, my Lord," replied Sam.
"Do you see him here, now?" said the judge.
"No, I don't, my Lord," replied Sam, staring right up into the lanternin the roof of the court.
"If you could have pointed him out, I would have committed himinstantly," said the judge.
Sam bowed his acknowledgments and turned, with unimpaired cheerfulnessof countenance, towards Serjeant Buzfuz.
"Now, Mr. Weller," said Serjeant Buzfuz.
"Now, sir," replied Sam.
"I believe you are in the service of Mr. Pickwick, the defendant inthis case. Speak up, if you please, Mr. Weller."
"I mean to speak up, sir," replied Sam; "I am in the service of that'ere gen'l'm'n, and a wery good service it is."
"Little to do, and plenty to get, I suppose?" said Serjeant Buzfuz,with jocularity.
"Oh, quite enough to get, sir, as the soldier said ven they ordered himthree hundred and fifty lashes," replied Sam.
"You must not tell us what the soldier, or any other man, said, sir,"interposed the judge, "it's not evidence."
"Wery good, my Lord," replied Sam.
"Do you recollect anything particular happening on the morning when youwere first engaged by the defendant; eh, Mr. Weller?" said SerjeantBuzfuz.
"Yes I do, sir," replied Sam.
"Have the goodness to tell the jury what it was."
"I had a reg'lar new fit out o' clothes that mornin', gen'l'm'n ofthe jury," said Sam, "and that was a wery partickler and uncommoncircumstance vith me in those days."
Hereupon there was a general laugh; and the little judge, looking withan angry countenance over his desk, said, "You had better be careful,sir."
"So Mr. Pickwick said at the time, my Lord," replied Sam; "and I woswery careful o' that 'ere suit o' clothes; wery careful indeed, myLord."
The judge looked sternly at Sam for full two minutes, but Sam'sfeatures were so perfectly calm and serene that the judge said nothing,and motioned Serjeant Buzfuz to proceed.
"Do you mean to tell me, Mr. Weller," said Serjeant Buzfuz, foldinghis arms emphatically, and turning half-round to the jury, as if inmute assurance that he would bother the witness yet: "Do you mean totell me, Mr. Weller, that you saw nothing of this fainting on the partof the plaintiff in the arms of the defendant, which you have hearddescribed by the witnesses?"
"Certainly not," replied Sam, "I was in the passage till they called meup, and then the old lady was not there."
"Now, attend, Mr. Weller," said Serjeant Buzfuz, dipping a large peninto the inkstand before him, for the purpose of frightening Sam with ashow of taking down his answer. "You were in the passage, and yet sawnothing of what was going forward. Have you a pair of eyes, Mr. Weller?"
"Yes, I have a pair of eyes," replied Sam, "and that's just it. Ifthey wos a pair o' patent double million magnifyin' gas microscopes ofhextra power, p'raps I might be able to see through a flight o' stairs,and a deal door; but bein' only eyes, you see, my wision's limited."
At this answer, which was delivered without the slightest appearanceof irritation, and with the most complete simplicity and equanimity ofmanner, the spectators tittered, the little judge smiled, and SerjeantBuzfuz looked particularly foolish. After a short consultation withDodson and Fogg, the learned Serjeant again turned towards Sam, andsaid, with a painful effort to conceal his vexation, "Now, Mr. Weller,I'll ask you a question on another point, if you please."
"If you please, sir," rejoined Sam, with the utmost good-humour.
"Do you remember going up to Mrs. Bardell's house, one night inNovember last?"
"Oh yes, wery well."
"Oh, you _do_ remember that, Mr. Weller," said Serjeant Buzfuz,recovering his spirits; "I thought we should get something at last."
"I rayther thought that, too, sir," replied Sam; and at this thespectators tittered again.
"Well; I suppose you went up to have a little talk about thistrial--eh, Mr. Weller?" said Serjeant Buzfuz, looking knowingly at thejury.
"I went up to pay the rent; but we _did_ get a talkin' about thetrial," replied Sam.
"Oh, you did get a talking about the trial," said Serjeant Buzfuz,brightening up with the anticipation of some important discovery. "Nowwhat passed about the trial; will you have the goodness to tell us, Mr.Weller?"
"Vith all the pleasure in life, sir," replied Sam. "Arter a fewunimportant obserwations from the two virtuous females as has beenexamined here to-day, the ladies gets into a wery great state o'admiration at the honourable conduct of Mr. Dodson and Fogg--them twogen'l'm'n as is settin' near you now." This, of course, drew generalattention to Dodson and Fogg, who looked as virtuous as possible.
"The attorneys for the plaintiff," said Mr. Serjeant Buzfuz. "Well!They spoke in high praise of the honourable conduct of Messrs, Dodsonand Fogg, the attorneys for the plaintiff, did they?"
"Yes," said Sam, "they said what a wery gen'rous thing it was o' themto have taken up the case on spec, and to charge nothing at all forcosts, unless they got 'em out of Mr. Pickwick."
At this very unexpected reply, the spectators tittered again, andDodson and Fogg, turning very red, leant over to Serjeant Buzfuz, andin a hurried manner whispered something in his ear.
"You are quite right," said Serjeant Buzfuz aloud, with affectedcomposure. "It's perfectly useless, my lord, attempting to get at anyevidence through the impenetrable stupidity of this witness. I will nottrouble the court by asking him any more questions. Stand down, sir."
"Would any other gen'l'm'n like to ask me anythin'?" inquired Sam,taking up his hat, and looking round most deliberately.
"Not I, Mr. Weller, thank you," said Serjeant Snubbin, laughing.
"You may go down, sir," said Serjeant Buzfuz, waving his handimpatiently. Sam went down accordingly, after doing Messrs. Dodson andFogg's case as much harm as he conveniently could, and saying just aslittle respecting Mr. Pickwick as might be, which was precisely theobject he had had in view all along.
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"I have no objection to admit, my Lord," said Serjeant Snubbin, "if itwill save the examination of another witness, that Mr. Pickwick hasretired from business, and is a gentleman of considerable independentproperty."
"Very well," said Serjeant Buzfuz, putting in the two letters to beread. "Then that's my case, my Lord."
Serjeant Snubbin then addressed the jury on behalf of the defendant;and a very long and a very emphatic address he delivered, in which hebestowed the highest possible eulogiums on the conduct and characterof Mr. Pickwick; but inasmuch as our readers are far better able toform a correct estimate of that gentleman's merits and deserts, thanSerjeant Snubbin could possibly be, we do not feel called upon to enterat any length into the learned gentleman's observations. He attemptedto show that the letters which had been exhibited, merely related toMr. Pickwick's dinner, or to the preparations for receiving him in hisapartments on his return from some country excursion. It is sufficientto add in general terms, that he did the best he could for Mr.Pickwick; and the best, as everybody knows, on the infallible authorityof the old adage, could do no more.
Mr. Justice Stareleigh summed up, in the old-established and mostapproved form. He read as much of his notes to the jury as he coulddecipher on so short a notice, and made running comments on theevidence as he went along. If Mrs. Bardell were right, it was perfectlyclear that Mr. Pickwick was wrong, and if they thought the evidenceof Mrs. Cluppins worthy of credence they would believe it, and, ifthey didn't, why they wouldn't. If they were satisfied that a breachof promise of marriage had been committed, they would find for theplaintiff with such damages as they thought proper; and if, on theother hand, it appeared to them that no promise of marriage had everbeen given, they would find for the defendant with no damages at all.The jury then retired to their private room to talk the matter over,and the judge retired to _his_ private room, to refresh himself with amutton chop and a glass of sherry.
An anxious quarter of an hour elapsed; the jury came back; the judgewas fetched in. Mr. Pickwick put on his spectacles, and gazed at theforeman with an agitated countenance and a quickly beating heart.
"Gentlemen," said the individual in black, "are you all agreed uponyour verdict?"
"We are," replied the foreman.
"Do you find for the plaintiff, gentlemen, or for the defendant?"
"For the plaintiff."
"With what damages, gentlemen?"
"Seven hundred and fifty pounds."
Mr. Pickwick took off his spectacles, carefully wiped the glasses,folded them into their case, and put them in his pocket; then havingdrawn on his gloves with great nicety, and stared at the foreman allthe while, he mechanically followed Mr. Perker and the blue bag out ofcourt.
They stopped in a side room while Perker paid the court fees; and here,Mr. Pickwick was joined by his friends. Here, too, he encounteredMessrs. Dodson and Fogg, rubbing their hands with every token ofoutward satisfaction.
"Well, gentlemen?" said Mr. Pickwick.
"Well, sir?" said Dodson: for self and partner.
"You imagine you'll get your costs, don't you, gentlemen?" said Mr.Pickwick.
Fogg said they thought it rather probable. Dodson smiled, and saidthey'd try.
"You may try, and try, and try again, Messrs. Dodson and Fogg," saidMr. Pickwick vehemently, "but not one farthing of costs or damages doyou ever get from me, if I spend the rest of my existence in a debtor'sprison."
"Ha, ha!" laughed Dodson. "You'll think better of that, before nextterm, Mr. Pickwick."
"He, he, he! We'll soon see about that, Mr. Pickwick," grinned Fogg.
Speechless with indignation, Mr. Pickwick allowed himself to be ledby his solicitor and friends to the door, and there assisted intoa hackney-coach, which had been fetched for the purpose, by theever-watchful Sam Weller.
Sam had put up the steps, and was preparing to jump upon the box, whenhe felt himself gently touched on the shoulder; and looking round,his father stood before him. The old gentleman's countenance wore amournful expression, as he shook his head gravely, and said, in warningaccents:
"I know'd what 'ud come o' this here mode o' doin' bisness. Oh Sammy,Sammy, vy worn't there a alleybi!"
The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club, v. 2 (of 2) Page 8