The regular formula is this. The judge begins to read his notes, and
makes "running comments" as he goes along. "We have first, gentlemen,
the statement of Mrs. Cluppins, she tells you, &c. Of course she comes
as the friend of the Plaintiff, and naturally takes a favourable view of
her case. If you are satisfied with her statement, it is for you,
gentlemen, to consider what value you will attach to it. Then we come to
the question of damages. This is entirely a matter for you. You must
take into account the position in life of the Defendant, and what the
Plaintiff has lost by his default. On the other hand they must be
reasonable in amount. If you believe the promise has been clearly
established, you should give substantial though not excessive damages, on
a scale sufficient to repay the Plaintiff for the wrong. On the other
hand--should it seem to you doubtful whether the promise had been
made--you will give the Defendant the benefit of the doubt. These are
questions entirely for you--not for me. On the whole case, you will ask
yourselves, whether a promise such as would satisfy reasonable men, has
been supported by sufficient evidence. If so, Plaintiff is entitled to
damages--on the other hand, if this is not proved to your satisfaction,
you will find for the Defendant."
Mr. Justice Stareleigh, however, as we are told, then "summed up in his
old established and most approved form. He read as much of his notes as
he could decypher 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 would'nt. If they were satisfied that a breach of
promise 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." Such was this lucid
direction--which is really, not in the least, an exaggeration.
But I could fancy some acute judge of our time--such as Mr. Justice Day
or Mr. Justice Bigham--after trying this case, turning round in his seat
to "charge" the jury. "Here, gentlemen," he would tell them, "we have it
claimed on one side that a promise of marriage was made--and broken; on
the other hand the Defendant denies having ever given such a promise.
The question you will have to deal with is: What was this promise, and
when was it given? In other words, _when_ did the Defendant propose to
the lady. On the part of the Plaintiff, this was said to have been done
at the interview in Goswell Street, and two friends of the
Plaintiff--Mrs. Cluppins, I think"--turning over his notes--"yes,
Cluppins, and Sanders both declare positively that they overheard the
language of the proposal. Further, Mr. Pickwick's friends are called, to
prove that the lady was in his arms, fainting. It is extraordinary that
not one of these three gentlemen should have deposed to any statements or
have offered explanations of the situation. One witness indeed says that
he heard the Defendant remonstrate with the Plaintiff, on her hysterical
behaviour, and ask her to consider that if any one should come in, what
would be said. Now, this is not the language of an ardent suitor, who
would rather wish than otherwise, that such endearing familiarities
should continue: though I don't think you need seriously accept the
reading the learned Counsel, Mr. Skimpin, put on the phrase used; on the
other hand, the words 'my dear creature,' were distinctly heard.
"There is one little incident," the Judge might go on, "which I must not
pass by, and which is not without its significance. A witness deposed
that the defendant was noted for his kindness to the Plaintiff's little
boy--that he was constantly giving him presents, and once was heard to
say to him, patting him on the head, '_how would you like to have another
father_?' Now, this addressed to a child of tender years does seem an
odd sort of speech. Of course, it will be contended that the reference
was to the probability of his Mother marrying some one other than the
Defendant: if that be the case, it seems to me rather an indelicate and
reckless speech. And then it must be said, it seems inconsistent with
the amiable and benevolent character given to the Defendant to-day. On
the other hand, if he were referring to _himself_ it will appear natural
and proper enough. And there is this to be added, that when the child
had reported the remark to his mother, which of course he did, she would
most reasonably begin to found hopes upon it. And then what follows,
Gentlemen?--the Defendant is found holding this lady in his arms, and
becomes so demonstrative in his attentions that this very child comes to
her rescue. I am inexperienced in these things--they may be innocent and
done with the purest intentions, or may not; but you, Gentlemen of the
Jury, are men of the world: and it is for you to put the proper
construction on them."
"You will have noted, Gentlemen, this curious feature of the case. None
of the witnesses were in the room when the imputed proposal was made, yet
all, Cluppins, Weller, and the Defendant's three friends, _heard_ what
the Defendant said. This suggests that he must have been very pressing,
if not agitated. One of the witnesses, Winkle, I think, yes, Winkle,
actually deposes to hearing the words, 'My dear creature! Compose
yourself' and the like. He added he was afraid someone might come in; a
very reasonable fear, Gentlemen, and well grounded: for several persons
_did_ come in and it would seem with awkward results for the Defendant.
But, Gentlemen, I confess that what most of all weighs with me in this
case is the remarkable avowal wrung from a reluctant witness, of the
Defendant's being surprised at midnight in a lady's bed-chamber, and
being taken, after a serious riot, before the Magistrates. This came on
me, as I saw it did on you all, as a surprise. True, it does not bear on
the question of a promise or of the breach. But still it seems a matter
which you cannot wholly shut out from your consideration. It startled me
as it did you, to find a sort of travelling philanthropist, as the
Defendant Pickwick holds himself out to be, on whose mildly benevolent
features nature seems to have stamped rectitude and high principle,
living a life of hypocrisy, taking part in midnight invasions and
daylight riots. It is one of his own friends who tells us this sad
story: and it is for you to consider whether the Plaintiff was here also
in pursuit of yet another disreputable game, holding out marriage as the
bait: I seem to speak strongly, but I feel it would be impossible to
withdraw this from your consideration.
"You may reasonably ask yourselves of what Pickwick was afraid--or why
did he dread the presence of witnesses? Was he simply beguiling the
lady, as he attempted to beguile that lady at Ipswich, without 'meaning
business,' as the phrase runs. I must say the Plaintiff had rather
reasonable grounds for assuming that the Defendant _did_ mean business.
But all this is for you, Gentlemen, not for me.
"Then we have the man Weller's statement--a sort of humorous stage
servant, not unamusing--and of course entirely devoted to his master's
interest. I don't think you need attach any importance to what he said
of the solicitors for the Plaintiff. When I was at the Bar, Gentlemen,
attornies did much worse things than this."
The jury consulted for only a few minutes. Perhaps, however, they were
only discussing the amount of damages. They were certainly
moderate--laid at 1500 pounds--though had Dodson and Fogg's advice
prevailed, it should have been double. This only, by the way, is further
proof of the amiable Mrs. Bardell's moderation and secret _tendre_ for
her genial lodger. Considering that Mr. Pickwick was 'a gentleman,' and
further a gentleman of means, and that Mrs. Bardell was but an humble
lodging-house keeper, the sum seems hardly commensurate. Dodson and Fogg
no doubt expected 1,000 pounds.
An anxious quarter of an hour elapsed; the jury came back; the judge
was fetched in. Mr. Pickwick put on his spectacles, and gazed at the
foreman with an agitated countenance and a quickly beating heart.
'Gentlemen,' said the individual in black, 'are you all agreed upon
your 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 having
drawn on his gloves with great nicety, and stared at the foreman all
the while, he mechanically followed Mr. Perker and the blue bag out
of court.
They stopped in a side room while Perker paid the court fees; and
here, Mr. Pickwick was joined by his friends. Here, too, he
encountered Messrs. Dodson and Fogg, rubbing their hands with every
token of outward 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 said
they'd try.
'You may try, and try, and try again, Messrs. Dodson and Fogg,' said
Mr. Pickwick vehemently, 'but not one farthing of costs or damages do
you ever get from me, if I spend the rest of my existence in a
debtor's prison.'
'Ha, ha!' laughed Dodson. 'You will think better of that, before
next term, Mr. Pickwick.'
'He, he, he! We'll soon see about that Mr. Pickwick,' grinned Mr.
Fogg.
Speechless with indignation, Mr. Pickwick allowed himself to be led
by his solicitor and friends to the door, and there assisted into a
hackney-coach, which had been fetched for the purpose, by the ever
watchful Sam Weller.
Sam had put up the steps; and was preparing to jump upon the box,
when he felt himself gently touched on the shoulder; and looking
round, his father stood before him. The old gentleman's countenance
wore a mournful expression, as he shook his head gravely, and said,
in warning accents:
'I know'd what 'ud come 'o this here mode 'o doin' bisness. Oh
Sammy, Sammy, vy worn't there a alleybi!'
We may wonder that the laborious Chamber Counsel Serjeant Snubbin did not
advise "moving for a new trial." The verdict was clearly a wrong one--no
sufficient evidence had been furnished either of a promise, or a breach.
The full court would no doubt have granted the motion, and this would
have led to Mr. Pickwick's release, for the astute Dodson and Fogg must
have recognised their poor chances, and perhaps have required "security
for costs," which their client could not have given. However, the idea
did not occur to anybody.
Since the law was changed both plaintiff and defendant may be examined in
such cases as these. What a different complexion this would have put on
the suit. The whole case would have tumbled to pieces like a pack of
cards. For Mr. Pickwick "put into the box" would have clearly shown that
all that had been thus misconstrued, was his proposal for engaging a
valet, which was to have been that very morning. He would have related
the words of the dialogue, and the Jury would have seen at once how the
mistake arose. On the other hand, he would have been exposed to a severe
rating cross examination by the learned Serjeant--fortified by Winkle's
most damaging slip about the White Horse incident--who would have forced
out of him all the incidents. We can almost hear the Serjeant subject
the Defendant to the torture.
"This fellow of yours, Sir, was he recommended to you by a friend?"
"No--not at all."
"By a Registry Office?"
"Certainly not--nothing of the kind."
"Nothing of the kind? I suppose too low a class of place for you, eh?
Come Sir!"
"I never said such a thing."
"Nor thought it, I suppose? Come, Sir, no beating about the bush. In
plain terms, did you get him from a low Public House in the Boro'?"
Mr. Pickwick started up.
"Never!"
"Do you deny it?"
"I never knew that the White Hart was a low Public-House," said the
witness indignantly.
"Never mind what you know, Sir. Did you or did you not get him from
there?" thundered the Serjeant.
"Of course I did."
"Of course you did. Then what's the use of all this juggling. It does
you no good with My Lord and the Jury. I tell you plainly, Mr. Pickwick,
we mean to have all out of you. Now Sir, was this man of yours an
experienced valet?"
"Certainly not."
"He had, of course, some training in his profession in other families?"
"Not that I know of."
"Not that you know of. Do you dare to persist in that, Sir?"
"Why not?"
"Don't ask _me_ questions, Sir, I'm asking _you_. Do you deny, Sir, that
the man was neither more nor less than a common Boots in the yard of a
Public House, wearing an old tattered hat and jacket--very different from
the suit in which you have rigged him up here to-day?"
Mr. Pickwick was astonished and silent. He was suffering. He had never
dreamed of this view.
"Why," he said, "I suppose--"
"We want none of your supposes, Sir, answer yes or no."
"Well he certainly was such as you describe."
A flutter ran round the court.
"And this creature of yours, you would impose on the Jury as a trained
man servant. You may go down Sir."