'I mean that I am not intimate with her, but I have seen her when I went
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 dozen
times, if you require it, Sir.' And the learned gentleman, with a firm
and steady frown, placed his hands on his hips, and smiled suspiciously
to the jury.
On this question there arose the edifying brow-beating, customary on
such points. First of all, Mr. Winkle said it was quite impossible for
him to say how many times he had seen Mrs. Bardell. Then he was asked if
he had seen her twenty times, to which he replied, 'Certainly--more
than that.' Then he was asked whether he hadn't seen her a hundred
times--whether he couldn't swear that he had seen her more than fifty
times--whether he didn't know that he had seen her at least seventy-five
times, and so forth; the satisfactory conclusion which was arrived at,
at last, being, that he had better take care of himself, and mind what
he was about. The witness having been by these means reduced to the
requisite ebb of nervous perplexity, the examination was continued as
follows--
'Pray, Mr. Winkle, do you remember calling on the defendant Pickwick
at these apartments in the plaintiff's house in Goswell Street, on one
particular morning, in the month of July last?'
'Yes, I do.'
'Were you accompanied on that occasion by a friend of the name of
Tupman, and another by the name of Snodgrass?'
'Yes, I was.'
'Are they here?' 'Yes, they are,' replied Mr. Winkle, looking very
earnestly towards the spot 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 tell their
stories without any previous consultation with you, if none has yet
taken place (another look at the jury). Now, Sir, tell the gentlemen
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 natural
hesitation, '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 ask her
to compose herself, for what a situation it was, if anybody should come,
or words to that effect.'
'Now, Mr. Winkle, I have only one more question to ask you, and I beg
you to bear in mind his Lordship's caution. Will you undertake to
swear that Pickwick, the defendant, did not say on the occasion in
question--"My dear Mrs. Bardell, you're a good creature; compose
yourself to this situation, for to this situation you must come," or
words to that effect?'
'I--I didn't understand him so, certainly,' said Mr. Winkle, astounded
on this ingenious dove-tailing of the few words he had heard. 'I was on
the staircase, and couldn't hear distinctly; the impression on my mind
is--'
'The gentlemen of the jury want none of the impressions on your
mind, Mr. Winkle, which I fear would be of little service to honest,
straightforward men,' interposed Mr. Skimpin. 'You were on the
staircase, and didn't distinctly hear; but you will not swear that
Pickwick did not make use of the expressions I have quoted? Do I
understand that?'
'No, I will not,' replied Mr. Winkle; and down sat Mr. Skimpin with a
triumphant 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 additional
suspicion cast upon it. But as it could afford to be placed in a rather
better light, if possible, Mr. Phunky rose for the purpose of getting
something important out of Mr. Winkle in cross-examination. Whether he
did get anything important out of him, will immediately appear.
'I believe, Mr. Winkle,' said Mr. Phunky, 'that Mr. Pickwick is not a
young man?'
'Oh, no,' replied Mr. Winkle; 'old enough to be my father.'
'You have told my learned friend that you have known Mr. Pickwick a long
time. Had you ever any reason to suppose or believe that he was about 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 possible
dispatch. Lawyers hold that there are two kinds of particularly bad
witnesses--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, in
a most smooth and complacent manner. 'Did you ever see anything in Mr.
Pickwick's manner and conduct towards the opposite sex, to induce you to
believe that he ever contemplated matrimony of late years, in any case?'
'Oh, no; certainly not,' replied Mr. Winkle.
'Has his behaviour, when females have been in the case, always been that
of a man, who, having attained a pretty advanced period of life, content
with his own occupations and amusements, treats them only as a father
might his daughters?'
'Not the least doubt of it,' replied Mr. Winkle, in the fulness of his
heart. '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 Snubbin
had winked at him, or if Serjeant Buzfuz had stopped this irregular
cross-examination at the outset (which he knew better than to do;
observing Mr. Winkle's anxiety, and well knowing it would, in all
probability, lead to something serviceable to him), this unfortunate
admission would not have been elicited. The moment the words fell from
Mr. Winkle's lips, Mr. Phunky sat down, and Serjeant Snubbin rather
hastily told him he might leave the box, which Mr. Winkle prepared to do
with great readiness, when Serjeant Buzfuz stopped him.
'Stay, Mr. Winkle, stay!' said Serjeant Buzfuz, 'will your Lordship have
the goodness to ask him, what this one instance of suspicious behaviour
towards females on the part of this gentleman, who is old enough 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 the occasion
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 out,
that the trifling circumstance of suspicion was Mr. Pickwick's being
found in a lady's sleeping-apartment at midnight; which had terminated,
he believed, in the breaking off of the projected marriage of the lady
in question, and had led, he knew, to the whole party being forcibly
carried before George Nupkins, Esq., magistrate and justice of the
peace, 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 and
Vulture, where he was discovered some hours after, by the waiter,
groaning in a hollow and dismal manner, with his head buried beneath the
sofa cushions.
Tracy Tupman, and Augustus Snodgrass, were severally called into the
box; both corroborated the testimony of their unhappy friend; and each
was 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 believed that
Pickwick would marry Mrs. Bardell; knew that Mrs. Bardell's being
engaged to Pickwick was the current topic of conversation in the
neighbourhood, after the fainting in July; had been told it herself by
Mrs. Mudberry which kept a mangle, and Mrs. Bunkin which clear-starched,
but did not see either Mrs. Mudberry or Mrs. Bunkin in court. Had heard
Pickwick ask the little boy how he should like to have another father.
Did not know that Mrs. Bardell was at that time keeping company with
the baker, but did know that the baker was then a single man and is
now married. Couldn't swear that Mrs. Bardell was not very fond of
the baker, but should think that the baker was not very fond of Mrs.
Bardell, or he wouldn't have married somebody else. Thought Mrs. Bardell
fainted away on the morning in July, because Pickwick asked her to
name the day: knew that she (witness) fainted away stone dead when Mr.
Sanders asked her to name the day, and believed that everybody as called
herself a lady would do the same, under similar circumstances. Heard
Pickwick ask the boy the question about the marbles, but upon her oath
did not know the difference between an 'alley tor' 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
of their correspondence Mr. Sanders had often called her a 'duck,'
but never 'chops,' nor yet 'tomato sauce.' He was particularly fond
of ducks. Perhaps if he had been as fond of chops and tomato sauce, he
might have called her that, as a term of affection.
Serjeant Buzfuz now rose with more importance than he had yet exhibited,
if that were possible, and vociferated; 'Call Samuel Weller.'
It was quite unnecessary to call Samuel Weller; for Samuel Weller
stepped briskly into the box the instant his name was pronounced;
and placing his hat on the floor, and his arms on the rail, took a
bird'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 twice in 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 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 the
culprit, sat down again. The little judge turned to the witness as soon
as 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 lantern
at the roof of the court.
'If you could have pointed him out, I would have committed him
instantly,' said the judge. Sam bowed his acknowledgments and turned,
with unimpaired cheerfulness of 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 in this
case? Speak up, if you please, Mr. Weller.'
'I mean to speak up, Sir,' replied Sam; 'I am in the service o' that
'ere gen'l'man, 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 him three 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
you were first engaged by the defendant; eh, Mr. Weller?' said Serjeant
Buzfuz.
'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'men of
the jury,' said Sam, 'and that was a wery partickler and uncommon
circumstance vith me in those days.'
Hereupon there was a general laugh; and the little judge, looking with
an 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 was
wery careful o' that 'ere suit o' clothes; wery careful indeed, my
Lord.'
The judge looked sternly at Sam for full two minutes, but Sam's features
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, folding his
arms emphatically, and turning half-round to the jury, as if in mute
assurance that he would bother the witness yet--'do you mean to tell
me, Mr. Weller, that you saw nothing of this fainting on the part of the
plaintiff in the arms of the defendant, which you have heard described
