The Turnkey, on her arrest, had told Sam that she had been brought to the Fleet, “on a Cognovit for costs,” Sam imparted this news to Job Trotter, and sent him off, hot foot, to Perker in Montague Place. This outcast, was able to tell him, “it seems they got a Cognovit out of her for the amount of the costs, directly after the trial!”
Boz, on this occasion, gives us a happy glimpse of Solicitor life.
Mr. Perker had a dinner party that day, which was certified by the lights in the drawing-room windows, the sound of an improved grand piano, and an improveable cabinet voice issuing therefrom; and a rather overpowering smell of meat which prevaded the steps and entry. In fact, a couple of very good country agencies happening to come up to town at the same time, an agreeable little party had been got together to meet them, comprising Mr. Snicks the Life Office Secretary, Mr. Prosee the eminent counsel, three solicitors, one commissioner of bankrupts, a special pleader from the Temple, a small-eyed peremptory young gentleman, his pupil, who had written a lively book about the law of demises, with a vast quantity of marginal notes and references; and several other eminent and distinguished personages. From this society little Mr. Perker detached himself on his clerk being announced in a whisper; and repairing to the dining-room, there found Mr. Lowten and Job Trotter looking very dim and shadowy by the light of a kitchen candle, which the gentleman who condescended to appear in plush shorts and cottons for a quarterly stipend, had, with a becoming contempt for the clerk and all things appertaining to ‘the office,’ placed upon the table.
‘Now Lowten,’ said little Mr. Perker, shutting the door, ‘what’s the matter? No important letter come in a parcel, is there?’
Do we not seem to be present? We can never pass by Russell Square without calling up the scene. Note, too, the components of that legal dinner. Poor Sir F. Lockwood used to declare that he relished “Mr. Prosee, the eminent counsel,” more than any one of Boz’s legal circle. Yet these five words are all we know of him. But Sir Frank had imagination, and like some of us could read between the lines, or rather, between the words. Here was a prominent member of the Bar—was he K.C.? a triton among the minnows—therefore heading the table, listened to with reverence as he told of the judges, possibly of “old Stareleigh’s” last exhibition of petulance—“with it’s high time for him to go, etc.” But if
he had not silk, why did not Perker retain him instead of the incapable Phunky, whom he did not ask on this occasion. “I gave the chap a good chance, but he destroyed my whole case!” “Catch me letting him put his legs under my mahogany.” Among the guests was that “small-eyed, peremptory young gentleman”—the special pleader’s pupil. What a capital sketch has Boz given of him. “He had written a lively book about the law of demises, with a vast quantity of marginal notes and references.” He had come with his teacher, who was no doubt highly deferental to Mr. Prosee, but enough, the peremptory young gentleman may have partly “tackled” the great man on some point of practice. The good country agencies must have gone home delighted with their evening.
But Mr. Prosee may be brought into somewhat closer communication with the case. At Perker’s dinner the gentlemen had gone up to the drawing room, when Perker was called down to hear the news of Mrs. Bardell’s arrest. Mr. Prosee was left expatiating to the circle on some beautiful “point,” and when Perker returned how likely that he should tell of his extraordinary client who had preferred to go to prison rather than pay the costs of a suit, “and here,” he would go on, “is the drollest sequel you ever heard, &c.”
“An odd unusual thing,” Mr. Prosee would say. “Plaintiff and Defendant, both in jail together! I never heard the like.” There would be much laughter at the novel situation. Thus the cognovit would come up and Mr. Prosee gravely say, “nothing will be done till an Act of Parliament is passed. The client should be protected by a fresh solicitor.” On which the young author of the treatise on Demises would have something to say in his best fashion; for the cognovit might be taken to be a sort of demise. “I doubt Mr. Prosee, if your suggestion would work. As I take it, sir, etc.”
RELEASE FROM THE FLEET.
But the circumstances connected with Mr. Pickwick’s release from the Fleet, show the adroitness and ability of Dodson in a high degree. It will be recollected that when Job rushed with the news to Perker, that gentleman and his clerk broke out into raptuous admiration.
‘Now, Lowten,’ said little Mr. Perker, shutting the door, ‘what’s the matter? No important letter come in a parcel, is there?’
‘No, sir,’ replied Lowten. ‘This is a messenger from Mr. Pickwick, sir.’
‘From Pickwick, eh?’ said the little man, turning quickly to Job. ‘Well; what is it?’
‘Dodson and Fogg have taken Mrs. Bardell in execution for her costs, sir,’ said Job.
‘No!’ exclaimed Perker, putting his hands in his pockets, and reclining against the sideboard.
‘Yes,’ said Job. ‘It seems they got a cognovit out of her for the amount of ’em, directly after the trial.’
‘By Jove!’ said Perker, taking both hands out of his pockets and striking the knuckles of his right against the palm of his left, emphatically, ‘those are the cleverest scamps I ever had anything to do with!’
‘The sharpest practitioners I ever knew, sir,’ observed Lowten.
‘Sharp!’ echoed Perker. ‘There’s no knowing where to have them.’
‘Very true, sir, there is not,’ replied Lowten; and then both master and man pondered for a few seconds, with animated countenances, as if they were reflecting upon one of the most beautiful and ingenious discoveries that the intellect of man had ever made. When they had in some measure recovered from their trance of admiration, Job Trotter discharged himself of the rest of his commission. Perker nodded his head thoughtfully, and pulled out his watch.