Mr. Pickwick was a well-to-do bachelor, who lived by himself near the
city, where he had been in trade. His age was about fifty, as can be
accurately calculated by his remark on the sliding at Manor Farm. "I
used to do so on the gutters when I was a boy . . . but I hav'nt done
such a thing these thirty years." This was said in 1828. He resided in
Goswell Street--now Goswell Road--with a widow lady, whose husband had
been in the Excise. He cannot have paid more than a pound a week, if so
much, for two rooms on the first floor. There was no servant, and the
hardworking landlady, Mrs. Martha Bardell, performed all the duties of
her household single-handed. As her Counsel later described it,--and see
all she did for him!--"She waited on him, attended to his comforts,
cooked his meals, looked out his linen for the washer-woman when it went
abroad, darned, aired, and prepared it for his wear when it came home,
and, in short, enjoyed his fullest trust and confidence." Thus Sergeant
Buzfuz, duly "instructed." Not only was there Mr. Pickwick, but there
was another lodger, and her little boy Tommy. The worthy woman took care
of and looked after all three. This might incline us to take a favorable
view of her. She regarded her lodger with feelings of veneration and
attachment, of which proof is found in her later talk with Sam. To him
she said that "he had always behaved himself like a perfect gentlemen,"
and then added this significant speech: "It's a terrible thing to be
dragged in this way before the public, but _I now see_ that it's the only
thing that I ought to do." That is, she seems to have held out as long
as possible, believing that her amiable lodger would act as a perfect
gentlemen and like himself. But when she found that even an action had
no terrors for him, she saw that there was nothing else to do but to let
the action go on.
And what was Mrs. Bardell like? One would imagine her a plump, buxom
widow, "fat, fair, and forty," with her dear little boy, "the only pledge
of her deceased exciseman," or say something between thirty and forty
years old. Fortunately, two portraits have come down to us of the
lady--one somewhat of this pattern, and depicting her, as she flung
herself on Mr. Pickwick on that disastrous morning: the other--a swollen,
dreadful thing, which must be a caricature of the literal presentment.
Here we see a woman of gross, enormous proportions seated on the front
bench and apparently weighing some thirteen or fourteen stone, with a
vast coarse face. This is surely an unfair presentment of the worthy
landlady; besides, Dodson and Fogg were too astute practitioners to
imperil their chances by exhibiting to his Lordship and the Jury so
ill-favoured a plaintiff. Indeed, we are told that they arranged a
rather theatrical exhibition in this scene, with a view of creating an
impression in their favour.
Many find pleasure in reading the Bookseller's Catalogues, and a vast
number are showered on me in the course of the year. But on one of these
I always gaze with a special interest, and even tenderness. For it comes
from one Herbert, who lives in Goswell Road. Only think, _Goswell_
Road--erst Goswell Street, where just seventy years ago Mrs. Bardell was
letting lodgings and Mr. Pickwick himself was lodging: and on the cover I
read, furthur attraction, "Goswell Road, near the 'Angel,'" whence the
"stage" which took the party to the "Spaniard" at Hampstead started!
Sometimes I am drawn to the shop, crowded with books; but one's thoughts
stray away from the books into speculations as to _which_ house it was.
But the indications are most vague, though the eye settles on a decent
range of shabby-looking faded tenements--two storeys high only--and which
_look_ like lodging houses. Some ingenious commentators have indeed
ventured to identify the house itself, arguing from the very general
description in the text.
We should note, however, Mr. Pickwick's lack of caution. He came in the
very next day, having apparently made no enquiries as to the landlady.
Had he done so, he would have learned of the drunken exciseman who met
his death by being knocked on the head with a quart pot. He might have
heard of the friends, Cluppins, Raddle, etc., who seemed to have been
charwomen or something of the sort; also that there was a sort of working
man as a fellow lodger. Above all, that there was no servant in the
house. All which boded ill, and made it likely that Mr. Pickwick would
be the easy victim of some crafty scheme.
All went well until the unluckly morning in July, 1827, when Mr.
Pickwick's friends, coming to pay a morning call, and entering
unexpectedly, surprised Mr. Pickwick with his landlady fainting in his
arms in an hysterical condition. This was a very awkward business. The
delinquent, however, did not at once grasp the situation, and could not
"make head or tail of it, or what the lady meant." His friends, however,
had their doubts:
'What _is_ the matter?' said the three tongue-tied Pickwickians.
'I don't know,' replied Mr. Pickwick, pettishly. 'Now, help me, lead
this woman down stairs.'
'Oh, I am better now,' said Mrs. Bardell, faintly.
'Let me lead you downstairs,' said the ever gallant Mr. Tupman.
'Thank you, sir--thank you?' exclaimed Mrs. Bardell hysterically.
And downstairs she was led accordingly, accompanied by her
affectionate son.
[Picture: The cause of action]
'I cannot conceive--' said Mr. Pickwick, when his friend returned--'I
cannot conceive what has been the matter with that woman. I had
merely announced to her my intention of keeping a man servant, when
she fell into the extraordinary paroxysm in which you found her.
Very extraordinary thing.'
'Very,' said his three friends.
'Placed me in such an extremely awkward situation,' continued Mr.
Pickwick.
'Very,' was the reply of his followers, as they coughed slightly, and
looked dubiously at each other.
This behaviour was not lost upon Mr. Pickwick. He remarked their
incredulity. They evidently suspected him.
It may be reasonably supposed that Mr. Pickwick had not been very
discreet, or sufficiently cautious in his general behaviour to his
landlady. As we know, he was rather too effusive in his relations with
the fair sex. One of his weaknesses was _kissing_. He would kiss
everybody who was young or good-looking. His maxim was "Kiss early and
kiss often." Who can forget his _systematic_ method of greeting the
engaging Arabella? "He (1) took off his spectacles, (2) in great haste,
and (3) taking both the young lady's hands in his (4) kissed her (5) a
great many times (6) perhaps a greater number of times than was
absolutely necessary." Old rogue! I have little doubt that on his
return home from his tours he encircled the buxom figure of Mrs.
Bardell--all of course in his own paternal and privileged way.
It should be borne in mind also that Mr. Pickwick was almost invariably
drawn into his more serious scrapes and embarrassments by this devotion
to the sex. The night in the boarding school garden--the affair with the
spinster lady--his interview with Arabella from the top of the wall--his
devotion to Mrs. Pott and Mrs. Dowler--and much more that we do not hear
of, show that he was a gallant elderly gentleman. Oh, he was a "sly dog,
he was."
There is a curious burst of Mr. Pickwick's which seems to hint at a sort
of tender appreciation on his side. When the notice of trial was sent to
him, in his first vehemence, he broke out that Mrs. Bardell had nothing
to do with the business, "_She hadn't the heart to do it_." Mr. Pickwick
could not speak with this certainty, unless he knew the lady's feelings
pretty well. _Why_ hadn't she the heart to do it? Because she was
sincerely attached to him and his interests and was "a dear creature."
This, however, was a fond delusion of the worthy gentleman's. Persons of
her class are not quite so disinterested as they appear to be, especially
if they have to interpret the various paternal and comforting advances
made to them by their well to do lodgers.
There is another factor which can hardly be left out, when considering
Mr. Pickwick's responsibility--that is, his too frequent indulgence in
liquor, and the insufficiency of his head to stand its influence. Now
this was a very important day for him, the first time he was to set up a
man servant. He had to break it to his landlady, who would naturally
resent the change. He may have been _priming_ himself with some of those
perpetual glasses of brandy and water to which he was addicted, and who
knows but that, in his ardour to propitiate, he may have gone a _little_
too far? This fact too, of the introducing a man servant into her
establishment, Mrs. Bardell may have indistinctly associated with a
general change in his life. If she were to become Mrs. Pickwick her
duties might be naturally expected to devolve on a male assistant.
Next morning he and his friends quitted London on their travels to
Eatanswill in pursuit of adventure. He airily dismissed the matter. We
may wonder whether he made any remonstrance to his landlady before his
departure. Probably he did not, fancying that she had been merely in a
slight fit of the "tantrums."
At Bury, however, after the boarding-school adventure, he was to be
painfully awakened. He was sitting with his friends after dinner at the
"Angel," in his happiest mood. Winkle had related his quarrel with Pott
_in re_ Mrs. Pott, in a humorous fashion when one of the most delightful
of humorous scenes followed.
Mr. Pickwick was proceeding with his scathing rebuke, when Sam enters
with a letter.
'I don't know this hand,' said Mr. Pickwick, opening the letter.
'Mercy on us! what's this? It must be a jest; it--it--can't be
true.'
'What's the matter?' was the general inquiry.
'Nobody dead, is there?' said Wardle, alarmed at the horror in Mr.
Pickwick's countenance.
Mr. Pickwick made no reply, but, pushing the letter across the table,
and desiring Mr. Tupman to read it aloud, fell back in his chair with
a look of vacant astonishment quite alarming to behold.
Mr. Tupman, with a trembling voice, read the letter, of which the
following is a copy:--
'_Freeman's Court_, _Cornhill_, _August_ 28_th_, 1827.
_Bardell against Pickwick_.
_Sir_,
_Having been instructed by Mrs. Martha Bardell to commence an action
against you for a breach of promise of marriage_, _for which the
plaintiff lays her damages at fifteen hundred pounds_, _we beg to
inform you that a writ has been issued against you in this suit in
the Court of Common Pleas_; _and request to know_, _by return of
post_, _the name of your attorney in London_, _who will accept
service thereof_.
_We are_, _Sir_,
_Your obedient servants_,
_DODSON & FOGG_.