Note.—The horrors of the Blacking episode were ever present to Dickens’ recollection, and, as if under a sort of fascination, he later seemed almost impelled to refer to them. Thus, in Copperfield, we find him describing, but under a disguise, the same incident. As when he was sent to Murdstone and Grimby’s warehouse, it was still the washing and labelling of bottles—“not of blacking,” but of wines and spirits. “When the empty bottles ran short, there were labels to be pasted on the full ones, or corks to be fitted to them, &c.” But there is also another allusion to the same, but curiously veiled, when he speaks of the carman, Tipp, who “wore a red jacket.” Now, to this day Day and Martin’s carmen wear red jackets, and Warren’s men probably did so; but, at all events, it is clearly an allusion to the costume of the blacking drivers. There are allusions to blacking in Little Dorrit and Bleak House.
CHAPTER V. SINGLE SPEECH TRUNDLE
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?