The Pickwick Papers
‘Well, Mrs. Cluppins, you were not listening, but you heard the voices.
Was one of those voices Pickwick’s?’
‘Yes, it were, Sir.’ And Mrs. Cluppins, after distinctly stating that
Mr. Pickwick addressed himself to Mrs. Bardell, repeated by slow
degrees, and by dint of many questions, the conversation with which our
readers are already acquainted.
The jury looked suspicious, and Mr. Serjeant Buzfuz smiled as he sat
down. They looked positively awful when Serjeant Snubbin intimated that
he should not cross-examine the witness, for Mr. Pickwick wished it to
be distinctly stated that it was due to her to say, that her account was
in substance correct.
Mrs. Cluppins having once broken the ice, thought it a favourable
opportunity for entering into a short dissertation on her own domestic
affairs; so she straightway proceeded to inform the court that she was
the mother of eight children at that present speaking, and that she
entertained confident expectations of presenting Mr. Cluppins with a
ninth, somewhere about that day six months. At this interesting point,
the little judge interposed most irascibly; and the effect of the
interposition was, that both the worthy lady and Mrs. Sanders were
politely taken out of court, under the escort of Mr. Jackson, without
further parley.
‘Nathaniel Winkle!’ said Mr. Skimpin.
‘Here!’ replied a feeble voice. Mr. Winkle entered the witness-box, and
having been duly sworn, bowed to the judge with considerable deference.
‘Don’t look at me, Sir,’ said the judge sharply, in acknowledgment of
the salute; ‘look at the jury.’
Mr. Winkle obeyed the mandate, and looked at the place where he thought
it most probable the jury might be; for seeing anything in his then
state of intellectual complication was wholly out of the question.
Mr. Winkle was then examined by Mr. Skimpin, who, being a promising
young man of two or three-and-forty, was of course anxious to confuse a
witness who was notoriously predisposed in favour of the other side, as
much as he could.
‘Now, Sir,’ said Mr. Skimpin, ‘have the goodness to let his Lordship
know what your name is, will you?’ and Mr. Skimpin inclined his head on
one side to listen with great sharpness to the answer, and glanced at
the jury meanwhile, as if to imply that he rather expected Mr. Winkle’s
natural taste for perjury would induce him to give some name which did
not belong to him.
‘Winkle,’ replied the witness.
‘What’s your Christian name, Sir?’ angrily inquired the little judge.
‘Nathaniel, Sir.’
‘Daniel--any other name?’
‘Nathaniel, sir--my Lord, I mean.’
‘Nathaniel Daniel, or Daniel Nathaniel?’
‘No, my Lord, only Nathaniel--not Daniel at all.’
‘What did you tell me it was Daniel for, then, sir?’ inquired the judge.
‘I didn’t, my Lord,’ replied Mr. Winkle.
‘You did, Sir,’ replied the judge, with a severe frown. ‘How could I
have got Daniel on my notes, unless you told me so, Sir?’
This argument was, of course, unanswerable.
‘Mr. Winkle has rather a short memory, my Lord,’ interposed Mr. Skimpin,
with another glance at the jury. ‘We shall find means to refresh it
before we have quite done with him, I dare say.’
‘You had better be careful, Sir,’ said the little judge, with a sinister
look at the witness.
Poor Mr. Winkle bowed, and endeavoured to feign an easiness of manner,
which, in his then state of confusion, gave him rather the air of a
disconcerted pickpocket.
‘Now, Mr. Winkle,’ said Mr. Skimpin, ‘attend to me, if you please, Sir;
and let me recommend you, for your own sake, to bear in mind his
Lordship’s injunctions to be careful. I believe you are a particular
friend of Mr. Pickwick, the defendant, are you not?’
‘I have known Mr. Pickwick now, as well as I recollect at this moment,
nearly--’
‘Pray, Mr. Winkle, do not evade the question. Are you, or are you not, a
particular friend of the defendant’s?’
‘I was just about to say, that--’
‘Will you, or will you not, answer my question, Sir?’
If you don’t answer the question, you’ll be committed, Sir,’ interposed
the little judge, looking over his note-book.
‘Come, Sir,’ said Mr. Skimpin, ‘yes or no, if you please.’
‘Yes, I am,’ replied Mr. Winkle.
‘Yes, you are. And why couldn’t you say that at once, Sir? Perhaps you
know the plaintiff too? Eh, Mr. Winkle?’
‘I don’t know her; I’ve seen her.’
‘Oh, you don’t know her, but you’ve seen her? Now, have the goodness to
tell the gentlemen of the jury what you mean by that, Mr. Winkle.’
‘I mean that I am not intimate with her, but I have seen her when I went
to call on Mr. Pickwick, in Goswell Street.’
‘How often have you seen her, Sir?’
‘How often?’
‘Yes, Mr. Winkle, how often? I’ll repeat the question for you a dozen
times, if you require it, Sir.’ And the learned gentleman, with a firm
and steady frown, placed his hands on his hips, and smiled suspiciously
to the jury.
On this question there arose the edifying brow-beating, customary on
such points. First of all, Mr. Winkle said it was quite impossible for
him to say how many times he had seen Mrs. Bardell. Then he was asked if
he had seen her twenty times, to which he replied, ‘Certainly--more than
that.’ Then he was asked whether he hadn’t seen her a hundred times--
whether he couldn’t swear that he had seen her more than fifty times--
whether he didn’t know that he had seen her at least seventy-five times,
and so forth; the satisfactory conclusion which was arrived at, at last,
being, that he had better take care of himself, and mind what he was
about. The witness having been by these means reduced to the requisite
ebb of nervous perplexity, the examination was continued as follows--
‘Pray, Mr. Winkle, do you remember calling on the defendant Pickwick at
these apartments in the plaintiff’s house in Goswell Street, on one
particular morning, in the month of July last?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘Were you accompanied on that occasion by a friend of the name of
Tupman, and another by the name of Snodgrass?’
‘Yes, I was.’
‘Are they here?’
Yes, they are,’ replied Mr. Winkle, looking very earnestly towards the
spot where his friends were stationed.
‘Pray attend to me, Mr. Winkle, and never mind your friends,’ said Mr.
Skimpin, with another expressive look at the jury. ‘They must tell their
stories without any previous consultation with you, if none has yet
taken place (another look at the jury). Now, Sir, tell the gentlemen of
the jury what you saw on entering the defendant’s room, on this
particular morning. Come; out with it, Sir; we must have it, sooner or
later.’
‘The defendant, Mr. Pickwick, was holding the plaintiff in his arms,
with his hands clasping her waist,’ replied Mr. Winkle with natural
hesitation, ‘and the plaintiff appeared to have fainted away.’
‘Did you hear the defendant say anything?’
‘I heard him call Mrs. Bardell a good creature, and I heard him ask her
to compose herself, for what a situation it was, if anybody should come,
or words to that effect.’
‘Now, Mr. Winkle, I have only one more question to ask you, and I beg
you to bear in mind his Lordship’s caution. Will you undertake to swear
that Pickwick, the defendant, did not say on the occasion in question--
“My dear Mrs. Bardell, you’re a good creature; compose yourself to this
situation, for to this situation you must come,” or words to that
effect?’
‘I--I didn’t understand him so, certainly,’ said Mr. Winkle, astounded
on this ingenious dove-tailing of the few words he had heard. ‘I was on
the staircase, and couldn’t hear distinctly; the impression on my mind
is--’
‘The gentlemen of the jury want none of the impressions on your mind,
Mr. Winkle, which I fear would be of little service to honest,
straightforward men,’ interposed Mr. Skimpin. ‘You were on the
staircase, and didn’t distinctly hear; but you will not swear that
Pickwick did not make use of the expressions I have quoted? Do I
understand that?’
‘No, I will not,’ replied Mr. Winkle; and down sat Mr. Skimpin with a
triumphant countenance.
Mr. Pickwick’s case had not gone off in so particularly happy a manner,
up to this point, that it could very well afford to have any additional
suspicion cast upon it. But as it could afford to be placed in a rather
better light, if possible, Mr. Phunky rose for the purpose of getting
something important out of Mr. Winkle in cross-examination. Whether he
did get anything important out of him, will immediately appear.
‘I believe, Mr. Winkle,’ said Mr. Phunky, ‘that Mr. Pickwick is not a
young man?’
‘Oh, no,’ replied Mr. Winkle; ‘old enough to be my father.’
‘You have told my learned friend that you have known Mr. Pickwick a long
time. Had you ever any reason to suppose or believe that he was about to
be married?’
‘Oh, no; certainly not;’ replied Mr. Winkle with so much eagerness, that
Mr. Phunky ought to have got him out of the box with all possible
dispatch. Lawyers hold that there are two kinds of particularly bad
witnesses--a reluctant witness, and a too-willing witness; it was Mr.
Winkle’s fate to figure in both characters.
‘I will even go further than this, Mr. Winkle,’ continued Mr. Phunky, in
a most smooth and complacent manner. ‘Did you ever see anything in Mr.
Pickwick’s manner and conduct towards the opposite sex, to induce you to
believe that he ever contemplated matrimony of late years, in any case?’
‘Oh, no; certainly not,’ replied Mr. Winkle.
‘Has his behaviour, when females have been in the case, always been that
of a man, who, having attained a pretty advanced period of life, content
with his own occupations and amusements, treats them only as a father
might his daughters?’
‘Not the least doubt of it,’ replied Mr. Winkle, in the fulness of his
heart. ‘That is--yes--oh, yes--certainly.’
‘You have never known anything in his behaviour towards Mrs. Bardell, or
any other female, in the least degree suspicious?’ said Mr. Phunky,
preparing to sit down; for Serjeant Snubbin was winking at him.
‘N-n-no,’ replied Mr. Winkle, ‘except on one trifling occasion, which, I
have no doubt, might be easily explained.’
Now, if the unfortunate Mr. Phunky had sat down when Serjeant Snubbin
had winked at him, or if Serjeant Buzfuz had stopped this irregular
cross-examination at the outset (which he knew better than to do;
observing Mr. Winkle’s anxiety, and well knowing it would, in all
probability, lead to something serviceable to him), this unfortunate
admission would not have been elicited. The moment the words fell from
Mr. Winkle’s lips, Mr. Phunky sat down, and Serjeant Snubbin rather
hastily told him he might leave the box, which Mr. Winkle prepared to do
with great readiness, when Serjeant Buzfuz stopped him.
‘Stay, Mr. Winkle, stay!’ said Serjeant Buzfuz, ‘will your Lordship have
the goodness to ask him, what this one instance of suspicious behaviour
towards females on the part of this gentleman, who is old enough to be
his father, was?’
‘You hear what the learned counsel says, Sir,’ observed the judge,
turning to the miserable and agonised Mr. Winkle. ‘Describe the occasion
to which you refer.’
‘My Lord,’ said Mr. Winkle, trembling with anxiety, ‘I--I’d rather not.’
‘Perhaps so,’ said the little judge; ‘but you must.’
Amid the profound silence of the whole court, Mr. Winkle faltered out,
that the trifling circumstance of suspicion was Mr. Pickwick’s being
found in a lady’s sleeping-apartment at midnight; which had terminated,
he believed, in the breaking off of the projected marriage of the lady
in question, and had led, he knew, to the whole party being forcibly
carried before George Nupkins, Esq., magistrate and justice of the
peace, for the borough of Ipswich!
‘You may leave the box, Sir,’ said Serjeant Snubbin. Mr. Winkle did