This gentleman, as we know, was the affianced husband of Isabella Wardle,
and to the scenes of their marriage, the festivities, &c., we owe some
pleasing incidents. Trundle was a good specimen of the _cypher_ or
nullity; naturally, he is a figure at Manor Farm, but does nothing, and
practically says nothing. He was clearly a neighbouring squire of
limited ideas, or plain country gentlemen, that could do no more than
love his Isabella. Yet, while Boz describes the "affairs" of Arabella
and Winkle, of Emily and Snodgrass, he wholly passes by Trundle and his
_inamorata_. We can see what manner of man Trundle was, as he is shown
seated in the barouche, at the review, between the two sisters, each with
long ringlets and parasols. He is a good-looking young man, with mutton-
chop whiskers and black hair, on which his hat is set jauntily. He is
described as "a young gentleman apparently enamoured of one of the young
ladies in scarfs and pattens." Wardle introduced him in a rather
patronising way. "This is my friend, Mr. Trundle." When the firing
began, there was much agitation among the young ladies, screaming, &c.,
so that the gentlemen had to support them: Mr. Trundle "was actually
obliged to hold one of them up." But after the lunch was unpacked, the
wine uncorked, &c., there came a remarkable development--Trundle actually
spoke, made the one single remark that is recorded of him in the whole
chronicle! Never before or after did he say a word. He was, in fact,
"single speech Trundle." And what were these words: "Will you permit me
to have the pleasure, Sir?" said Mr. Trundle to Mr. Winkle; a proposal to
"take wine with him," as it is called, Winkle had a bottle all to himself
on the box seat, which, no doubt, attracted the reticent Trundle. The
two gentlemen not only took wine together, but had "a glass round, ladies
and all." But we should note that Trundle phrase, the almost too humble
form: "Will you permit me the pleasure, Sir." It looks as though Trundle
were "an ass," as it is called. The fact remains, however, that
Trundle's single speech was: "Will you permit me to have the pleasure,
Sir?"
After a few days' interval, when Mr. Pickwick and party found their way
to Manor Farm, there were games _galore_, and at the "round one,"
Isabella and Trundle, we are told, "went partners," so all was going on
well. The Squire had been nearly brought up to the point. It is painful
to come to the conclusion, but Isabella's admirer, though a country
gentlemen, was nothing of a sportsman, and rather a poor creature. When
Mr. Pickwick and his followers were up early and out at the rook
shooting, we find no Trundle. He was lying a-bed, no doubt. Stranger
still, when the whole party went in for a day to Muggleton for the
cricket match, Trundle was the only one who stayed behind. He remained
with the ladies, for a purpose, no doubt; still, ladies don't like this
sort of thing. The evening came. "Isabella and Emily strolled out with
Mr. Trundle." I have an idea that on this very day matters came to a
crisis in that quarter. Everything favoured--all the men were away--he
may have seized the opportunity to "propose." At all events, we are
significantly told that at the supper "Isabella Wardle devoted herself
_exclusively_ to Mr. Trundle." Pointed enough, surely. We may be
fortified in this view by finding that on the return of the party, all
dead drunk, at one in the morning, on Trundle was specially cast the
degrading menial duty of carrying Wardle to bed--his future father-in-
law.
Did Boz dislike this man all this while, or did he feel that he could do
nothing with him in the story? It is certain, however, that in the talks
at Bury over the Bardell action, the Boarding School adventure, &c., we
never hear the sound of Trundle's voice. He is effaced. He makes no
remark on anything.
One of Boz's most daring pantomime changes, is the sudden arrival of old
Wardle at Bury, when Mr. Pickwick was released from the cupboard--and
sandwich bags--in Miss Tomkins' school. The door was unlocked, and there
stood Wardle and the silent Trundle. A rather lame account is given of
the coincidence. Mr. Pickwick naturally asked, "How did you come here?"
"Trundle and I came down here for some good shooting on the first," &c.
Now, here it is evident Wardle good-naturedly saddled himself with the
company of the silent man, but he had his reasons. Trundle was now son-
in-law _elect_. They were both at the "Angel" at Bury, and for some days
here were Mr. Pickwick and his "followers." There was the exciting
notice of action _re_ Bardell v. Pickwick. There had nearly been Pott v.
Pott and Winkle. And yet, all the time, this Trundle listens, and eats
and drinks; but there is no sign of him on the record. He is busy
maintaining his character as a cypher.
Everything, however, points to show the all but comtemptuous opinion that
was held of this Trundle. Wardle had been there two or three days when
Winkle and the others came over from Eatanswill, yet he had never told
Mr. Pickwick or Winkle that Trundle was to be married at Christmas, and
that they were all to be invited to the wedding. By the oddest of
coincidences, Tupman and Snodgrass, getting down from the coach at the
"Angel," were met by Wardle, who at once said, "I have _just been_
telling Pickwick that we must have you all down at Christmas. We're
going to have a wedding." But I doubt if this _be_ an oversight. The
fact was, no one thought anything of that cypher Trundle, or of his
marriage--a matter of no importance to anybody. That this is the true
explanation is plain, for Snodgrass, fancying that the wedding was of
_his_ lady, turned pale. What was old Wardle's remark? Most significant
of Trundle's _status_. "Don't be frightened," he said, "_it's only_
Trundle _there_ and Bella." "Only Trundle there," _i.e._, only that poor
insignificant thing there! No more depreciatory words could be chosen,
or put into the mouth of an honest country gentleman. I am certain that
old Wardle gave his child reluctantly to this soft sort of fellow--"Only
Trundle there!" Then for the shooting party. We hear of Tupman and
Winkle even, with their guns, &c., but not a sign of this Trundle, a
country gentleman, supposed to enjoy field sports. If Tupman and Winkle
had to carry their guns reversed "like privates at a funeral," was
Trundle excepted? We cannot tell, for he is not even named. Or was he
of the shooting party at all? It has always seemed astonishing that
Winkle should have been allowed, particularly by Mr. Pickwick, to join
the _second_ shooting party. Everyone seemed to have forgotten his first
performance, when he might have shot his friend Tupman dead, and, as it
was, "peppered" him severely. Tupman would naturally have objected to so
dangerous a companion. Wardle, at whose home the casualty occurred,
merely said, "I beg my friend Winkle's pardon, though; he has had some
practice." Was this ironical? I fancy the whole scene had passed out of
the author's mind.
Well, the Christmas season having come round--and certainly Trundle must
have been a very feeble creature to allow himself to be "kept over" for
so long a time--the whole party assembled at Manor Farm; now there, and
on such an occasion at least, Trundle, being one of the two central
figures, will certainly assert himself. We shall expect to see and hear
him to good effect. Never was there a greater mistake. As the
Pickwickians arrived, the whole "house party" were in the lane to greet
them; we are told in careless fashion that among them "there were
Isabella and _her faithful_ Trundle," _i.e._, the poor insignificant
"chap" who was about to enter the family by particular favour. Then Mr.
Pickwick was told that they had all been to "inspect the furniture and
fittings-up of the new house which the young couple were to tenant." This
is very significant, for it throws a certain light on Trundle's
situation. It is plain that this house was on Wardle's property, and
that Trundle had none of his own. It was, in fact, a poorish match and
the young couple were dependent more or less on Wardle. Even the old
lady didn't like it, she resented their going to look at the house, and
her son, to soothe her, made this significant speech: "Recollect Bella;
_come_, _you must keep her spirits up_, _poor girl_." "Poor girl!" "Keep
her spirits up!" Why?
On the wedding day, however, Trundle made an effort to assert himself. He
was "in high feather and spirits," _i.e._, awkwardly pretended to be,
but, of course, took nobody in. Indeed, we are told he was "a little
nervous withal." We may be sure he was, and therefore looking "more of
an ass" than ever. For such _must_ appear to be a really nervous man in
high spirits and going to be married. All the girls were in tears,
Wardle himself quite broken down, for they knew what was before the poor
child. At the wedding banquet Mr. Pickwick made an admirable, natural
speech, which was greeted with tumults of applause, and was reported word
for word. Then we are told how Wardle proposed Mr. Pickwick; Mr.
Pickwick, the old lady; Snodgrass, Tupman, the poor relations, all had
their speeches; but there is not a single word of Trundle, who appears to
have been mumchance--no one wanted him. In his speech at the wedding,
the amiable Pickwick had, of course, to give the expected conventional
praises to Trundle. But how guarded he is! "God bless 'em," he says;
"my young friend I believe to be a very excellent and manly fellow." I
_believe_, _i.e._, he did not _know_ it. "Manly," we might question, for
in manliness he was deficient. We could hear the rustics below: "Squire
Trundle manly! he! he! not he!" But on the bride, Mr. Pickwick was
enthusiastic: "I _know_ her," he said, "to be a very, very amiable and
lovely girl; I admire, love, and esteem her." At the close he prayed
that Wardle's daughter "might enjoy all the happiness that even he could
desire." Not that he was sure of, but that he could desire. But
Trundle, the cypher, no one thought of him, no one cared about his
speech. Most likely, in his "nervousness," he mumbled forth some
indistinct words which no one could hear, so it was best and most
charitable to pass him by altogether in the report. At the dance at
night, where he surely would have led off the movements, still not a word
of him. And at last, "long before Mr. Pickwick was weary of dancing, the
newly-married pair had retired from the room." Mr. Lang fancies that
they had gone upstairs; but I imagine they repaired to their new home
close by. But then, with that minuteness which never fails Boz, we had
been told that they were not to go there till after the Christmas
holidays.
But, after all, one might be inclined to doubt this theory of the young
pair remaining at the house. For do we not find that on the next day,
which was Christmas day, when there was the going to Church, and the
skating and sliding, and Mr. Pickwick's immersion, there is no mention of
the happy pair? It looks as though they were at their own home.
After this, many events occurred. Mr. Pickwick was "tried" and
"conwicted," as old Weller has it; was sent to prison and released. On
his return from Birmingham we have some signs of Wardle and his family.
That gentleman was sorely disturbed by Emily's "goings on" with
Snodgrass, and forecasted another imprudent marriage like Trundle's. He
had a suitable match for her in his eye: "a young gentleman down in our
neighbourhood," but Arabella's elopement set the fire to the powder, and
here it is worth while comparing the marriages of Emily and her sister
Isabella as a test of the relative importance of Snodgrass and this
Trundle. The one took place in London with great show and pomp, all the
family going up specially for it. "A handsome portion was bestowed on
Emily," but there is not a word to show that Trundle received a
halfpenny.
Then followed the scenes at Osborne's Hotel in the Adelphi, when all was
made up and Snodgrass accepted. And now, at last, we hear something of
Trundle. Mrs. T., as we might expect, was in an "interesting way," and
had to be informed of what was going on. But it had to be broken to her
by Trundle, in right of his office. Good, easy man! We can hear him:
"the news will be too much for her" (this is on the record). She would
insist on going, and it would be fatal. He would, of course, implore her
not to agitate herself in her present state. As a matter of course he
was all astray. The news was _not_ too much for her. She ordered at
once a cap and a new dress, and declared that she _would_ go up for the
wedding. The horrified Trundle, who had clearly no authority whatever,
called in the Doctor to exert _his_, which he did in this way: by leaving
it all to herself. Boz emphasizes it, by way of contrast to Trundle,
saying that "he was a wise and _discreet fellow_."
Of course the foolish Trundle was put aside; the lady went and suffered
no harm. This proves that Trundle was the _mari de la femme_, with no
will of his own.
At Dulwich Church, the bridegroom was met "by the bride, the maids, the
Winkles, the Wardles, and Trundles," always to be last and insignificant.
In course of time we are told that Mr. Pickwick was much troubled at
first by the numerous applications made to him to act as Godfather to the
offspring of his friends! These came from Mr. Winkle, Mr. Snodgrass, and
Mr. Trundle. Last of course. Poor soul! We can see him, grown elderly,
sitting at his own table, smiling or silent, or with an occasional "yes,
my dear," "certainly, my dear," "by all means, my dear."