'it is, no doubt, a very extraordinary circumstance indeed,' said Mr.
Pickwick. 'But brush my hat, Sam, for I hear Mr. Winkle calling me to
breakfast.'
With these words Mr. Pickwick descended to the parlour, where he found
breakfast laid, and the family already assembled. The meal was hastily
despatched; each of the gentlemen's hats was decorated with an enormous
blue favour, made up by the fair hands of Mrs. Pott herself; and as
Mr. Winkle had undertaken to escort that lady to a house-top, in the
immediate vicinity of the hustings, Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Pott repaired
alone to the Town Arms, from the back window of which, one of Mr.
Slumkey's committee was addressing six small boys and one girl, whom he
dignified, at every second sentence, with the imposing title of 'Men of
Eatanswill,' whereat the six small boys aforesaid cheered prodigiously.
The stable-yard exhibited unequivocal symptoms of the glory and strength
of the Eatanswill Blues. There was a regular army of blue flags, some
with one handle, and some with two, exhibiting appropriate devices, in
golden characters four feet high, and stout in proportion. There was a
grand band of trumpets, bassoons, and drums, marshalled four abreast,
and earning their money, if ever men did, especially the drum-beaters,
who were very muscular. There were bodies of constables with blue
staves, twenty committee-men with blue scarfs, and a mob of voters with
blue cockades. There were electors on horseback and electors afoot.
There was an open carriage-and-four, for the Honourable Samuel Slumkey;
and there were four carriage-and-pair, for his friends and supporters;
and the flags were rustling, and the band was playing, and the
constables were swearing, and the twenty committee-men were squabbling,
and the mob were shouting, and the horses were backing, and the
post-boys perspiring; and everybody, and everything, then and there
assembled, was for the special use, behoof, honour, and renown, of the
Honourable Samuel Slumkey, of Slumkey Hall, one of the candidates for
the representation of the borough of Eatanswill, in the Commons House
of Parliament of the United Kingdom. Loud and long were the cheers, and
mighty was the rustling of one of the blue flags, with 'Liberty of the
Press' inscribed thereon, when the sandy head of Mr. Pott was discerned
in one of the windows, by the mob beneath; and tremendous was the
enthusiasm when the Honourable Samuel Slumkey himself, in top-boots, and
a blue neckerchief, advanced and seized the hand of the said Pott, and
melodramatically testified by gestures to the crowd, his ineffaceable
obligations to the Eatanswill GAZETTE.
'Is everything ready?' said the Honourable Samuel Slumkey to Mr. Perker.
'Everything, my dear Sir,' was the little man's reply.
'Nothing has been omitted, I hope?' said the Honourable Samuel Slumkey.
'Nothing has been left undone, my dear sir--nothing whatever. There are
twenty washed men at the street door for you to shake hands with; and
six children in arms that you're to pat on the head, and inquire the age
of; be particular about the children, my dear sir--it has always a great
effect, that sort of thing.'
'I'll take care,' said the Honourable Samuel Slumkey.
'And, perhaps, my dear Sir,' said the cautious little man, 'perhaps
if you could--I don't mean to say it's indispensable--but if you could
manage to kiss one of 'em, it would produce a very great impression on
the crowd.'
'Wouldn't it have as good an effect if the proposer or seconder did
that?' said the Honourable Samuel Slumkey.
'Why, I am afraid it wouldn't,' replied the agent; 'if it were done by
yourself, my dear Sir, I think it would make you very popular.'
'Very well,' said the Honourable Samuel Slumkey, with a resigned air,
'then it must be done. That's all.'
'Arrange the procession,' cried the twenty committee-men.
Amidst the cheers of the assembled throng, the band, and the constables,
and the committee-men, and the voters, and the horsemen, and the
carriages, took their places--each of the two-horse vehicles being
closely packed with as many gentlemen as could manage to stand upright
in it; and that assigned to Mr. Perker, containing Mr. Pickwick, Mr.
Tupman, Mr. Snodgrass, and about half a dozen of the committee besides.
There was a moment of awful suspense as the procession waited for the
Honourable Samuel Slumkey to step into his carriage. Suddenly the crowd
set up a great cheering.
'He has come out,' said little Mr. Perker, greatly excited; the more so
as their position did not enable them to see what was going forward.
Another cheer, much louder.
'He has shaken hands with the men,' cried the little agent.
Another cheer, far more vehement.
'He has patted the babies on the head,' said Mr. Perker, trembling with
anxiety.
A roar of applause that rent the air.
'He has kissed one of 'em!' exclaimed the delighted little man.
A second roar.
'He has kissed another,' gasped the excited manager.
A third roar.
'He's kissing 'em all!' screamed the enthusiastic little gentleman, and
hailed by the deafening shouts of the multitude, the procession moved
on.
How or by what means it became mixed up with the other procession, and
how it was ever extricated from the confusion consequent thereupon, is
more than we can undertake to describe, inasmuch as Mr. Pickwick's
hat was knocked over his eyes, nose, and mouth, by one poke of a Buff
flag-staff, very early in the proceedings. He describes himself as being
surrounded on every side, when he could catch a glimpse of the scene,
by angry and ferocious countenances, by a vast cloud of dust, and by a
dense crowd of combatants. He represents himself as being forced from
the carriage by some unseen power, and being personally engaged in a
pugilistic encounter; but with whom, or how, or why, he is wholly
unable to state. He then felt himself forced up some wooden steps by the
persons from behind; and on removing his hat, found himself surrounded
by his friends, in the very front of the left hand side of the hustings.
The right was reserved for the Buff party, and the centre for the mayor
and his officers; one of whom--the fat crier of Eatanswill--was ringing
an enormous bell, by way of commanding silence, while Mr. Horatio
Fizkin, and the Honourable Samuel Slumkey, with their hands upon their
hearts, were bowing with the utmost affability to the troubled sea of
heads that inundated the open space in front; and from whence arose a
storm of groans, and shouts, and yells, and hootings, that would have
done honour to an earthquake.
'There's Winkle,' said Mr. Tupman, pulling his friend by the sleeve.
'Where!' said Mr. Pickwick, putting on his spectacles, which he had
fortunately kept in his pocket hitherto. 'There,' said Mr. Tupman, 'on
the top of that house.' And there, sure enough, in the leaden gutter
of a tiled roof, were Mr. Winkle and Mrs. Pott, comfortably seated in a
couple of chairs, waving their handkerchiefs in token of recognition--a
compliment which Mr. Pickwick returned by kissing his hand to the lady.
The proceedings had not yet commenced; and as an inactive crowd
is generally disposed to be jocose, this very innocent action was
sufficient to awaken their facetiousness.
'Oh, you wicked old rascal,' cried one voice, 'looking arter the girls,
are you?'
'Oh, you wenerable sinner,' cried another.
'Putting on his spectacles to look at a married 'ooman!' said a third.
'I see him a-winkin' at her, with his wicked old eye,' shouted a fourth.
'Look arter your wife, Pott,' bellowed a fifth--and then there was a
roar of laughter.
As these taunts were accompanied with invidious comparisons between Mr.
Pickwick and an aged ram, and several witticisms of the like nature; and
as they moreover rather tended to convey reflections upon the honour
of an innocent lady, Mr. Pickwick's indignation was excessive; but as
silence was proclaimed at the moment, he contented himself by scorching
the mob with a look of pity for their misguided minds, at which they
laughed more boisterously than ever.
'Silence!' roared the mayor's attendants.
'Whiffin, proclaim silence,' said the mayor, with an air of pomp
befitting his lofty station. In obedience to this command the crier
performed another concerto on the bell, whereupon a gentleman in the
crowd called out 'Muffins'; which occasioned another laugh.
'Gentlemen,' said the mayor, at as loud a pitch as he could possibly
force his voice to--'gentlemen. Brother electors of the borough of
Eatanswill. We are met here to-day for the purpose of choosing a
representative in the room of our late--'
Here the mayor was interrupted by a voice in the crowd.
'Suc-cess to the mayor!' cried the voice, 'and may he never desert the
nail and sarspan business, as he got his money by.'
This allusion to the professional pursuits of the orator was received
with a storm of delight, which, with a bell-accompaniment, rendered the
remainder of his speech inaudible, with the exception of the concluding
sentence, in which he thanked the meeting for the patient attention
with which they heard him throughout--an expression of gratitude
which elicited another burst of mirth, of about a quarter of an hour's
duration.
Next, a tall, thin gentleman, in a very stiff white neckerchief, after
being repeatedly desired by the crowd to 'send a boy home, to ask
whether he hadn't left his voice under the pillow,' begged to nominate a
fit and proper person to represent them in Parliament. And when he said
it was Horatio Fizkin, Esquire, of Fizkin Lodge, near Eatanswill, the
Fizkinites applauded, and the Slumkeyites groaned, so long, and so
loudly, that both he and the seconder might have sung comic songs in
lieu of speaking, without anybody's being a bit the wiser.
The friends of Horatio Fizkin, Esquire, having had their innings, a
little choleric, pink-faced man stood forward to propose another fit and
proper person to represent the electors of Eatanswill in Parliament; and
very swimmingly the pink-faced gentleman would have got on, if he had
not been rather too choleric to entertain a sufficient perception of
the fun of the crowd. But after a very few sentences of figurative
eloquence, the pink-faced gentleman got from denouncing those who
interrupted him in the mob, to exchanging defiances with the gentlemen
on the hustings; whereupon arose an uproar which reduced him to the
necessity of expressing his feelings by serious pantomime, which he did,
and then left the stage to his seconder, who delivered a written speech
of half an hour's length, and wouldn't be stopped, because he had sent
it all to the Eatanswill GAZETTE, and the Eatanswill GAZETTE had already
printed it, every word.
Then Horatio Fizkin, Esquire, of Fizkin Lodge, near Eatanswill,
presented himself for the purpose of addressing the electors; which he
no sooner did, than the band employed by the Honourable Samuel Slumkey,
commenced performing with a power to which their strength in the morning
was a trifle; in return for which, the Buff crowd belaboured the heads
and shoulders of the Blue crowd; on which the Blue crowd endeavoured
to dispossess themselves of their very unpleasant neighbours the Buff
crowd; and a scene of struggling, and pushing, and fighting, succeeded,
to which we can no more do justice than the mayor could, although he
issued imperative orders to twelve constables to seize the ringleaders,
who might amount in number to two hundred and fifty, or thereabouts. At
all these encounters, Horatio Fizkin, Esquire, of Fizkin Lodge, and
his friends, waxed fierce and furious; until at last Horatio Fizkin,
Esquire, of Fizkin Lodge, begged to ask his opponent, the Honourable
Samuel Slumkey, of Slumkey Hall, whether that band played by his
consent; which question the Honourable Samuel Slumkey declining to
answer, Horatio Fizkin, Esquire, of Fizkin Lodge, shook his fist in
the countenance of the Honourable Samuel Slumkey, of Slumkey Hall; upon
which the Honourable Samuel Slumkey, his blood being up, defied Horatio
Fizkin, Esquire, to mortal combat. At this violation of all known rules
and precedents of order, the mayor commanded another fantasia on the
bell, and declared that he would bring before himself, both Horatio
Fizkin, Esquire, of Fizkin Lodge, and the Honourable Samuel Slumkey, of
Slumkey Hall, and bind them over to keep the peace. Upon this terrific
denunciation, the supporters of the two candidates interfered, and after
the friends of each party had quarrelled in pairs, for three-quarters
of an hour, Horatio Fizkin, Esquire, touched his hat to the Honourable
Samuel Slumkey; the Honourable Samuel Slumkey touched his to Horatio
Fizkin, Esquire; the band was stopped; the crowd were partially quieted;
and Horatio Fizkin, Esquire, was permitted to proceed.
The speeches of the two candidates, though differing in every other
respect, afforded a beautiful tribute to the merit and high worth of
the electors of Eatanswill. Both expressed their opinion that a
more independent, a more enlightened, a more public-spirited, a more
noble-minded, a more disinterested set of men than those who had
promised to vote for him, never existed on earth; each darkly hinted
his suspicions that the electors in the opposite interest had certain
swinish and besotted infirmities which rendered them unfit for the
exercise of the important duties they were called upon to discharge.
Fizkin expressed his readiness to do anything he was wanted: Slumkey,
his determination to do nothing that was asked of him. Both said that
the trade, the manufactures, the commerce, the prosperity of Eatanswill,
