The Pickwick Papers
coat a short truncheon, surmounted by a brazen crown, with which he
beckoned to Mr. Pickwick with a grave and ghost-like air.
Mr. Snodgrass was the first to break the astonished silence. He looked
steadily at Mr. Grummer for a brief space, and then said emphatically,
‘This is a private room, Sir. A private room.’
Mr. Grummer shook his head, and replied, ‘No room’s private to his
Majesty when the street door’s once passed. That’s law. Some people
maintains that an Englishman’s house is his castle. That’s gammon.’
The Pickwickians gazed on each other with wondering eyes.
‘Which is Mr. Tupman?’ inquired Mr. Grummer. He had an intuitive
perception of Mr. Pickwick; he knew him at once.
‘My name’s Tupman,’ said that gentleman.
‘My name’s Law,’ said Mr. Grummer.
‘What?’ said Mr. Tupman.
‘Law,’ replied Mr. Grummer--‘Law, civil power, and exekative; them’s my
titles; here’s my authority. Blank Tupman, blank Pickwick--against the
peace of our sufferin’ lord the king--stattit in the case made and
purwided--and all regular. I apprehend you Pickwick! Tupman--the
aforesaid.’
‘What do you mean by this insolence?’ said Mr. Tupman, starting up;
‘leave the room!’
‘Hollo,’ said Mr. Grummer, retreating very expeditiously to the door,
and opening it an inch or two, ‘Dubbley.’
‘Well,’ said a deep voice from the passage.
‘Come for’ard, Dubbley.’
At the word of command, a dirty-faced man, something over six feet high,
and stout in proportion, squeezed himself through the half-open door
(making his face very red in the process), and entered the room.
‘Is the other specials outside, Dubbley?’ inquired Mr. Grummer.
Mr. Dubbley, who was a man of few words, nodded assent.
‘Order in the diwision under your charge, Dubbley,’ said Mr. Grummer.
Mr. Dubbley did as he was desired; and half a dozen men, each with a
short truncheon and a brass crown, flocked into the room. Mr. Grummer
pocketed his staff, and looked at Mr. Dubbley; Mr. Dubbley pocketed his
staff and looked at the division; the division pocketed their staves and
looked at Messrs. Tupman and Pickwick.
Mr. Pickwick and his followers rose as one man.
‘What is the meaning of this atrocious intrusion upon my privacy?’ said
Mr. Pickwick.
‘Who dares apprehend me?’ said Mr. Tupman.
‘What do you want here, scoundrels?’ said Mr. Snodgrass.
Mr. Winkle said nothing, but he fixed his eyes on Grummer, and bestowed
a look upon him, which, if he had had any feeling, must have pierced his
brain. As it was, however, it had no visible effect on him whatever.
When the executive perceived that Mr. Pickwick and his friends were
disposed to resist the authority of the law, they very significantly
turned up their coat sleeves, as if knocking them down in the first
instance, and taking them up afterwards, were a mere professional act
which had only to be thought of to be done, as a matter of course. This
demonstration was not lost upon Mr. Pickwick. He conferred a few moments
with Mr. Tupman apart, and then signified his readiness to proceed to
the mayor’s residence, merely begging the parties then and there
assembled, to take notice, that it was his firm intention to resent this
monstrous invasion of his privileges as an Englishman, the instant he
was at liberty; whereat the parties then and there assembled laughed
very heartily, with the single exception of Mr. Grummer, who seemed to
consider that any slight cast upon the divine right of magistrates was a
species of blasphemy not to be tolerated.
But when Mr. Pickwick had signified his readiness to bow to the laws of
his country, and just when the waiters, and hostlers, and chambermaids,
and post-boys, who had anticipated a delightful commotion from his
threatened obstinacy, began to turn away, disappointed and disgusted, a
difficulty arose which had not been foreseen. With every sentiment of
veneration for the constituted authorities, Mr. Pickwick resolutely
protested against making his appearance in the public streets,
surrounded and guarded by the officers of justice, like a common
criminal. Mr. Grummer, in the then disturbed state of public feeling
(for it was half-holiday, and the boys had not yet gone home), as
resolutely protested against walking on the opposite side of the way,
and taking Mr. Pickwick’s parole that he would go straight to the
magistrate’s; and both Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Tupman as strenuously
objected to the expense of a post-coach, which was the only respectable
conveyance that could be obtained. The dispute ran high, and the dilemma
lasted long; and just as the executive were on the point of overcoming
Mr. Pickwick’s objection to walking to the magistrate’s, by the trite
expedient of carrying him thither, it was recollected that there stood
in the inn yard, an old sedan-chair, which, having been originally built
for a gouty gentleman with funded property, would hold Mr. Pickwick and
Mr. Tupman, at least as conveniently as a modern post-chaise. The chair
was hired, and brought into the hall; Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Tupman
squeezed themselves inside, and pulled down the blinds; a couple of
chairmen were speedily found; and the procession started in grand order.
The specials surrounded the body of the vehicle; Mr. Grummer and Mr.
Dubbley marched triumphantly in front; Mr. Snodgrass and Mr. Winkle
walked arm-in-arm behind; and the unsoaped of Ipswich brought up the
rear.
The shopkeepers of the town, although they had a very indistinct notion
of the nature of the offence, could not but be much edified and
gratified by this spectacle. Here was the strong arm of the law, coming
down with twenty gold-beater force, upon two offenders from the
metropolis itself; the mighty engine was directed by their own
magistrate, and worked by their own officers; and both the criminals, by
their united efforts, were securely shut up, in the narrow compass of
one sedan-chair. Many were the expressions of approval and admiration
which greeted Mr. Grummer, as he headed the cavalcade, staff in hand;
loud and long were the shouts raised by the unsoaped; and amidst these
united testimonials of public approbation, the procession moved slowly
and majestically along.
Mr. Weller, habited in his morning jacket, with the black calico
sleeves, was returning in a rather desponding state from an unsuccessful
survey of the mysterious house with the green gate, when, raising his
eyes, he beheld a crowd pouring down the street, surrounding an object
which had very much the appearance of a sedan-chair. Willing to divert
his thoughts from the failure of his enterprise, he stepped aside to see
the crowd pass; and finding that they were cheering away, very much to
their own satisfaction, forthwith began (by way of raising his spirits)
to cheer too, with all his might and main.
Mr. Grummer passed, and Mr. Dubbley passed, and the sedan passed, and
the bodyguard of specials passed, and Sam was still responding to the
enthusiastic cheers of the mob, and waving his hat about as if he were
in the very last extreme of the wildest joy (though, of course, he had
not the faintest idea of the matter in hand), when he was suddenly
stopped by the unexpected appearance of Mr. Winkle and Mr. Snodgrass.
‘What’s the row, gen’l’m’n? ’cried Sam. ‘Who have they got in this here
watch-box in mournin’?’
Both gentlemen replied together, but their words were lost in the
tumult.
‘Who is it?’ cried Sam again.
Once more was a joint reply returned; and, though the words were
inaudible, Sam saw by the motion of the two pairs of lips that they had
uttered the magic word ‘Pickwick.’
This was enough. In another minute Mr. Weller had made his way through
the crowd, stopped the chairmen, and confronted the portly Grummer.
‘Hollo, old gen’l’m’n!’ said Sam. ‘Who have you got in this here
conweyance?’
‘Stand back,’ said Mr. Grummer, whose dignity, like the dignity of a
great many other men, had been wondrously augmented by a little
popularity.
‘Knock him down, if he don’t,’ said Mr. Dubbley.
‘I’m wery much obliged to you, old gen’l’m’n,’ replied Sam, ‘for
consulting my conwenience, and I’m still more obliged to the other
gen’l’m’n, who looks as if he’d just escaped from a giant’s carrywan,
for his wery ‘andsome suggestion; but I should prefer your givin’ me a
answer to my question, if it’s all the same to you.--How are you, Sir?’
This last observation was addressed with a patronising air to Mr.
Pickwick, who was peeping through the front window.
Mr. Grummer, perfectly speechless with indignation, dragged the
truncheon with the brass crown from its particular pocket, and
flourished it before Sam’s eyes.
‘Ah,’ said Sam, ‘it’s wery pretty, ‘specially the crown, which is
uncommon like the real one.’
‘Stand back!’ said the outraged Mr. Grummer. By way of adding force to
the command, he thrust the brass emblem of royalty into Sam’s neckcloth
with one hand, and seized Sam’s collar with the other--a compliment
which Mr. Weller returned by knocking him down out of hand, having
previously with the utmost consideration, knocked down a chairman for
him to lie upon.
Whether Mr. Winkle was seized with a temporary attack of that species of
insanity which originates in a sense of injury, or animated by this
display of Mr. Weller’s valour, is uncertain; but certain it is, that he
no sooner saw Mr. Grummer fall than he made a terrific onslaught on a
small boy who stood next him; whereupon Mr. Snodgrass, in a truly
Christian spirit, and in order that he might take no one unawares,
announced in a very loud tone that he was going to begin, and proceeded
to take off his coat with the utmost deliberation. He was immediately
surrounded and secured; and it is but common justice both to him and Mr.
Winkle to say, that they did not make the slightest attempt to rescue
either themselves or Mr. Weller; who, after a most vigorous resistance,
was overpowered by numbers and taken prisoner. The procession then
reformed; the chairmen resumed their stations; and the march was re-
commenced.
Mr. Pickwick’s indignation during the whole of this proceeding was
beyond all bounds. He could just see Sam upsetting the specials, and
flying about in every direction; and that was all he could see, for the
sedan doors wouldn’t open, and the blinds wouldn’t pull up. At length,
with the assistance of Mr. Tupman, he managed to push open the roof; and
mounting on the seat, and steadying himself as well as he could, by
placing his hand on that gentleman’s shoulder, Mr. Pickwick proceeded to
address the multitude; to dwell upon the unjustifiable manner in which
he had been treated; and to call upon them to take notice that his
servant had been first assaulted. In this order they reached the
magistrate’s house; the chairmen trotting, the prisoners following, Mr.
Pickwick oratorising, and the crowd shouting.
CHAPTER XXV. SHOWING, AMONG A VARIETY OF PLEASANT MATTERS, HOW MAJESTIC
AND IMPARTIAL MR. NUPKINS WAS; AND HOW MR. WELLER RETURNED MR. JOB
TROTTER’S SHUTTLECOCK AS HEAVILY AS IT CAME--WITH ANOTHER MATTER, WHICH
WILL BE FOUND IN ITS PLACE
Violent was Mr. Weller’s indignation as he was borne along; numerous
were the allusions to the personal appearance and demeanour of Mr.
Grummer and his companion; and valorous were the defiances to any six of
the gentlemen present, in which he vented his dissatisfaction. Mr.
Snodgrass and Mr. Winkle listened with gloomy respect to the torrent of
eloquence which their leader poured forth from the sedan-chair, and the
rapid course of which not all Mr. Tupman’s earnest entreaties to have
the lid of the vehicle closed, were able to check for an instant. But
Mr. Weller’s anger quickly gave way to curiosity when the procession
turned down the identical courtyard in which he had met with the runaway