reside constantly, and without interruption or intermission, at Mrs.
Bardell's house. I shall show you that Mrs. Bardell, during the whole
of that time, waited on him, attended to his comforts, cooked his
meals, looked out his linen for the washerwoman when it went abroad,
darned, aired, and prepared it for wear, and, in short, enjoyed his
fullest trust and confidence. I shall show you that, on many
occasions, he gave halfpence, and on some occasions even sixpences, to
her little boy; and I shall prove to you, by a witness whose testimony
it will be impossible for my learned friend to weaken or controvert,
that on one occasion he patted the boy on the head, and, after
inquiring whether he had won any _alley tors_ or _commoneys_ lately
(both of which I understand to be a particular species of marbles much
prized by the youth of this town), made use of this remarkable
expression: 'How should you like to have another father?' I shall
prove to you, gentlemen, that about a year ago Pickwick suddenly began
to absent himself from home during long intervals, as with the
intention of gradually breaking off from my client; but I shall show
you also that his resolution was not at that time sufficiently strong,
or that his better feelings conquered, if better feelings he has, or
that the charms and accomplishments of my client prevailed against his
unmanly intentions; by proving to you that on one occasion, when he
returned from the country, he distinctly and in terms offered her
marriage; previously, however, taking special care that there should
be no witnesses to their solemn contract; and I am in a situation to
prove to you, on the testimony of three of his own friends--most
unwilling witnesses, gentlemen--most unwilling witnesses--that on that
morning he was discovered by them holding the plaintiff in his arms,
and soothing her agitation by his caresses and endearment."
A visible impression was produced upon the auditors by this part of
the learned Serjeant's address. Drawing forth two very small scraps
of paper, he proceeded,--
"And now, gentlemen, but one word more. Two letters have passed
between these parties, letters which are admitted to be in the
handwriting of 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
affectionate attachment. They are covert, sly, underhanded
communications; but, fortunately, far more conclusive than if couched
in the most glowing language and the most poetic imagery--letters that
must be viewed with a cautious and suspicious eye--letters that were
evidently intended at the time, by Pickwick, to mislead and delude any
third parties into whose hands they might fall. Let me read the
first:--'Garraway's, twelve o'clock. Dear Mrs. B.--Chops and Tomato
sauce; Yours, PICKWICK.' Gentlemen, what does this mean? Chops and
Tomato sauce. Yours, PICKWICK! Chops! Gracious heavens! and Tomato
sauce! Gentlemen, is the happiness of a sensitive and confiding
female to be trifled away by such shallow artifices as these? The
next has no date whatever, which is in itself suspicious. 'Dear Mrs.
B., I shall not be at home till to-morrow. Slow coach.' And then
follows this very remarkable expression: 'Don't trouble yourself about
the warming-pan.' The warming-pan! Why, gentlemen, who _does_
trouble himself about a warming-pan? When was the peace of mind of
man or woman broken or disturbed by a warming-pan, which is in itself
a harmless, a useful, and I will add, gentlemen, a comfortable article
of domestic furniture? Why is Mrs. Bardell so earnestly entreated not
to agitate herself about this warming-pan, unless (as is no doubt the
case) it is a mere cover for hidden fire--a mere substitute for some
endearing word or promise, agreeably to a preconcerted system of
correspondence, artfully contrived by Pickwick with a view to his
contemplated desertion, and which I am not in a condition to explain!
And what does this allusion to the slow coach mean? For aught I know,
it may be a reference to Pickwick himself, who has most unquestionably
been a criminally slow coach during the whole of this transaction, but
whose speed will now be very unexpectedly accelerated, and whose
wheels, gentlemen, as he will find to his cost, will very soon be
greased by you!"
Mr. Serjeant Buzfuz paused in this place to see whether the jury
smiled at his joke; but as nobody took it but the greengrocer, whose
sensitiveness on the subject was very probably occasioned by his
having subjected a chaise cart to the process in question on that
identical morning, the learned Serjeant considered it advisable to
undergo a slight relapse into the dismals before he concluded.
"But enough of this, gentlemen," said Mr. Serjeant Buzfuz, "it is
difficult to smile with an aching heart; it is ill jesting when our
deepest sympathies are awakened. My client's hopes and prospects are
ruined, and it is no figure of speech to say that her occupation is
gone indeed. The bill is down--but there is no tenant. Eligible
single gentlemen pass and repass--but there is no invitation for them
to inquire within or without. All is gloom and silence in the house;
even the voice of the child is hushed--his infant sports are
disregarded when his mother weeps; his 'alley tors' and his
'commoneys' are alike neglected; he forgets the long familiar cry of
'knuckle down,' and at tip-cheese, or odd or even, his hand is out.
But Pickwick, gentlemen, Pickwick, the ruthless destroyer of this
domestic oasis in the desert of Goswell Street--Pickwick, who has
choked up the well and thrown ashes on the sward--Pickwick, who comes
before you to-day with his heartless tomato sauce and
warming-pans--Pickwick still rears his head with unblushing
effrontery, and gazes without a sigh on the ruin he has made. Damages,
gentlemen--heavy damages--is the only punishment with which you can
visit him; the only recompense you can award to my 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.
Of the judge of this famous case we hear but little. He went to sleep,
and he woke up again, and he tried to look as though he hadn't been
asleep; in fact, he behaved very much as judges do.
Mr. Justice Stareleigh summed up in the old-established and most
approved form. He read as much of his notes to the jury as he could
decipher on so short a notice, and made running comments on the
evidence as he went along. If Mrs. Bardell were right, it was
perfectly clear that Mr. Pickwick was wrong; and if they thought the
evidence of Mrs. Cluppins worthy of credence they would believe it,
and, if they didn't, why they wouldn't. If they were satisfied that a
breach of promise of marriage had been committed, they would find for
the plaintiff, with such damages as they thought proper; and if, on
the other hand, it appeared to them that no promise of marriage had
ever been given, they would find for the defendant, with no damages at
all.
So, ladies and gentlemen, in conclusion, let me point out to you how all
these types and instances of lawyers and lawyer life have received fair
and impartial consideration from Charles Dickens, for which I, at any
rate, am grateful. The public, however, to my mind, owe a deeper debt of
gratitude to the man who, by his wit, his courage, and his industry, has
brought about reforms in our legal administration for which all litigants
and honourable practitioners should alike be grateful.
Sir CHARLES RUSSELL: Ladies and gentlemen,--We have spent, I am sure you
will all think, a most enjoyable, as well as a most instructive evening,
thanks to the vivid picture of the great novelist of our generation put
before us by my friend Mr. Lockwood, who has pointed out with force and
effect the serious obligation we are under for many reforms which exist
in our day through the influence, sometimes serious, sometimes comic,
which the great Charles Dickens gave to the world. It is an interesting
occasion, and not the less interesting when you are informed that in this
room to-night is the son of Mr. Charles Dickens--Mr. Henry Fielding
Dickens--referred to by my friend Mr. Lockwood. Mr. Henry Dickens has
not followed in his father's footsteps; he has chosen for himself the
profession of the bar; and in that profession he has gained for himself a
high and honourable name. At this hour I cannot permit myself to say
more than to ask you to join in the vote of thanks which I now move to my
friend Mr. Lockwood for the very admirable lecture which he has just
given.
Vote of thanks seconded by MR. HILLIARD.
Mr. HENRY FIELDING DICKENS: Sir Charles Russell, ladies and gentlemen,--I
assure you that when I came into this room to-night I had no more idea
that I was to make any observations than--the man in the moon. I came
here with the idea of listening to my old friend Mr. Frank Lockwood, with
the sure and certain knowledge that I should derive a great deal of
amusement and interest from his lecture. In that I need hardly say I
have not been disappointed; but I assure you, ladies and gentlemen, that
I have not only been interested, I have been touched. I am not alluding
to the very graceful allusions and far too flattering observation upon
myself given by the Attorney-General, but I am alluding to the spirit
pervading this hall this evening--a spirit which proves to me that the
memory of my father is still green among you all. To us who have the
honour of bearing his name, that memory, I need hardly tell you, is still
sacred; and to find that among his fellow-countrymen, though twenty-three
years have passed since his death, there is still that feeling of
affection felt for him that was felt for him in his lifetime, is most
gratifying to us all. I assure you with all the warmth in my heart, and
in the name of my sister and other members of the family, that I thank
you most sincerely, not only for your generous reception of myself, but
for the feeling you have demonstrated that you bear for my dear father.
Mr. FRANK LOCKWOOD: Sir Charles Russell, ladies and gentlemen,--I shall
only detain you to say that I thank you for your great kindness to me to-
night; it has been a pleasure to me to come. I was to have come, if I
remember rightly, in June or July, 1892; I could not come because there
was a General Election. I am very glad that I was not prevented from
coming to-night by a--General Election.
THE END.
Hazell, Watson, & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury.