Bardell v. Pickwick

by Percy Fitzgerald; Charles Dickens

A REVELATION.

But now we come to a very critical passage in Mr. Pickwick’s case: one that really destroyed any chance that he had. It really settled the matter with the jury; and the worst was, the point was brought out through the inefficiency of his own counsel.

But let us hear the episode, and see how the foolish Phunky muddled it.

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 out 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 any thing 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 winked at him, or if Serjeant Buzfuz had stopped this irregular cross-examination at the outset (which he knew better than to do, for 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 gentlemen, 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 agonized Mr. Winkle. ‘Describe the occasion to which you refer.’

‘My lord,’ said Mr. Winkle, trembling with anxiety, ‘I—I’d rather not.’

And Winkle had to relate the whole Ipswich adventure of the doublebedded room and the spinster lady.

It is surprising that Dodson and Fogg did not ferret out all about Mr. Pickwick’s adventure at the Great White Horse. Peter Magnus lived in town and must have heard of the coming case; these things do somehow leak out, and he would have gladly volunteered the story, were it only to spite the man. But further, Dodson and Fogg must have made all sorts of enquiries into Mr. Pickwick’s doings. Mrs. Bardell herself might have heard something. The story was certainly in the Ipswich papers, for there was the riot in the street, the appearance before the mayor, the exposure of “Captain FitzMarshall”—a notable business altogether. What a revelation in open court! Conceive Miss Witherfield called to depose to Mr. Pickwick’s midnight invasion. Mr. Pickwick himself might have been called and put on the rack, this incident not concerning his breach of promise. And supposing that the ubiquitous Jingle had heard of this business and had gone to the solicitor’s office to volunteer evidence, and most useful evidence it would have been—to wit that Mr. Pickwick

had been caught in the garden of a young ladies’ school and had alarmed the house by his attempts to gain admission in the small hours! Jingle of course, could not be permitted to testify to this, but he could put the firm on the track. Mr. Pickwick’s reputation could hardly have survived these two revelations, and sweeping damages to the full amount would have been the certain result.

This extraordinary adventure of Mr. Pickwick’s at the Great White Horse Inn, Ipswich, verifies Dodson’s casual remark to him, that “he was either a very designing or a most unfortunate man,” circumstances being so strong against him. As the story was brought out, in open court, owing to the joint indiscretion of Phunky and Winkle, it will be best, in justice to Mr. Pickwick, to give practically his account of the affair.