Pickwick Papers
Charles Dickens
Dickens worked at the law office of Ellis and Blackmore, attorneys, of
Holborn Court, Gray's Inn, as a junior clerk from May 1827 to November
1828.
Then, having learned Gurney's system of shorthand in his spare time, he
left to become a freelance reporter. A distant relative, Thomas
Charlton, was a freelance reporter at Doctors' Commons, and Dickens was
able to share his box there to report the legal proceedings for nearly
four years.
This education was to inform works such as Nicholas Nickleby, Dombey
and Son, and especially Bleak House—whose vivid portrayal of the
machinations and bureaucracy of the legal system did much to enlighten
the general public and served as a vehicle for dissemination of
Dickens's own views regarding, particularly, the heavy burden on the
poor who were forced by circumstances to "go to law".
Chapter XX
Showing how Dodson and Fogg were men of business, and their clerks men of pleasure
In the ground-floor front of a dingy house, at the very farthest end of
Freeman's Court, Cornhill, sat the four clerks of Messrs. Dodson &
Fogg, two of his Majesty's attorneys of the courts of King's Bench and
Common Pleas at Westminster, and solicitors of the High Court of
Chancery—the aforesaid clerks catching as favourable glimpses of
heaven's light and heaven's sun, in the course of their daily labours,
as a man might hope to do, were he placed at the bottom of a reasonably
deep well; and without the opportunity of perceiving the stars in the
day-time, which the latter secluded situation affords.
The clerks' office of Messrs. Dodson & Fogg was a dark,
mouldy, earthy-smelling room, with a high wainscotted partition to
screen the clerks from the vulgar gaze, a couple of old wooden chairs,
a very loud-ticking clock, an almanac, an umbrella-stand, a row of
hat-pegs, and a few shelves, on which were deposited several ticketed
bundles of dirty papers, some old deal boxes with paper labels, and
sundry decayed stone ink bottles of various shapes and sizes. There was
a glass door leading into the passage which formed the entrance to the
court, and on the outer side of this glass door, Mr. Pickwick, closely
followed by Sam Weller, presented himself on the Friday morning
succeeding the occurrence of which a faithful narration is given in the
last chapter.
'Come in, can't you!' cried a voice from behind the partition, in
reply to Mr. Pickwick's gentle tap at the door. And Mr. Pickwick and
Sam entered accordingly.
'Mr. Dodson or Mr. Fogg at home, sir?' inquired Mr. Pickwick, gently,
advancing, hat in hand, towards the partition. 'Mr. Dodson ain't at
home, and Mr. Fogg's particularly engaged,' replied the voice; and at
the same time the head to which the voice belonged, with a pen behind
its ear, looked over the partition, and at Mr. Pickwick.
It was a ragged head, the sandy hair of which, scrupulously parted on
one side, and flattened down with pomatum, was twisted into little
semi-circular tails round a flat face ornamented with a pair of small
eyes, and garnished with a very dirty shirt collar, and a rusty black
stock.
'Mr. Dodson ain't at home, and Mr. Fogg's particularly engaged,' said the man to whom the head belonged.
'When will Mr. Dodson be back, sir?' inquired Mr. Pickwick. 'Can't
say.' 'Will it be long before Mr. Fogg is disengaged, Sir?' 'Don't
know.'
Here the man proceeded to mend his pen with great deliberation, while
another clerk, who was mixing a Seidlitz powder, under cover of the lid
of his desk, laughed approvingly.
'I think I'll wait,' said Mr. Pickwick. There was no reply; so Mr.
Pickwick sat down unbidden, and listened to the loud ticking of the
clock and the murmured conversation of the clerks.
'That was a game, wasn't it?' said one of the gentlemen, in a brown
coat and brass buttons, inky drabs, and bluchers, at the conclusion of
some inaudible relation of his previous evening's adventures.
'Devilish good—devilish good,' said the Seidlitz-powder man. 'Tom
Cummins was in the chair,' said the man with the brown coat. 'It was
half-past four when I got to Somers Town, and then I was so uncommon
lushy, that I couldn't find the place where the latch-key went in, and
was obliged to wake up the old woman.
I say, I wonder what old Fogg would say, if he knew it. I should get the sack, I suppose—eh?'
At this humorous notion, all the clerks laughed in concert.
There was such a game with Fogg here
'There was such a game with Fogg here, this morning,' said the man in
the brown coat, 'while Jack was upstairs sorting the papers, and you
two were gone to the stamp-office. Fogg was down here, opening the
letters when that chap as we issued the writ against at Camberwell, you
know, came in—what's his name again?'
'Ramsey,' said the clerk who had spoken to Mr. Pickwick.
'Ah, Ramsey—a precious seedy-looking customer.
"Well, sir," says old Fogg, looking at him very fierce—you know his
way—"well, Sir, have you come to settle?" "Yes, I have, sir," said
Ramsey, putting his hand in his pocket, and bringing out the money,
"the debt's two pound ten, and the costs three pound five, and here it
is, Sir;" and he sighed like bricks, as he lugged out the money, done
up in a bit of blotting-paper.
Old Fogg looked first at the money, and then at him, and then he
coughed in his rum way, so that I knew something was coming. "You don't
know there's a declaration filed, which increases the costs materially,
I suppose," said Fogg. "You don't say that, sir," said Ramsey, starting
back; "the time was only out last night, Sir."
"I do say it, though," said Fogg, "my clerk's just gone to file it.
Hasn't Mr. Jackson gone to file that declaration in Bullman and Ramsey, Mr. Wicks?
"Of course I said yes, and then Fogg coughed again, and looked at
Ramsey. "My God!" said Ramsey; "and here have I nearly driven myself
mad, scraping this money together, and all to no purpose."
"so you had better go back and scrape some more together, and bring it here in time."
"None at all," said Fogg coolly; "so you had better go back and scrape some more together, and bring it here in time."
"I can't get it, by God!" said Ramsey, striking the desk with his fist.
"Don't bully me, sir," said Fogg, getting into a passion on purpose.
"I am not bullying you, sir," said Ramsey.
"You are," said Fogg; "get out, sir; get out of this office, Sir, and
come back, Sir, when you know how to behave yourself." Well, Ramsey
tried to speak, but Fogg wouldn't let him, so he put the money in his
pocket, and sneaked out.
The door was scarcely shut, when old Fogg turned round to me, with a
sweet smile on his face, and drew the declaration out of his coat
pocket. "Here, Wicks," says Fogg, "take a cab, and go down to the
Temple as quick as you can, and file that.
so we may as well get all we can get out of him, Mr.
Wicks; it's a Christian act to do it
The costs are quite safe, for he's a steady man with a large family, at
a salary of five-and-twenty shillings a week, and if he gives us a
warrant of attorney, as he must in the end, I know his employers will
see it paid; so we may as well get all we can get out of him, Mr.
Wicks; it's a Christian act to do it, Mr. Wicks, for with his large
family and small income, he'll be all the better for a good lesson
against getting into debt—won't he, Mr. Wicks, won't he?"—and he smiled
so good-naturedly as he went away, that it was delightful to see him.
He is a capital man of business,' said Wicks, in a tone of the deepest admiration, 'capital, isn't he?'
The other three cordially subscribed to this opinion, and the anecdote afforded the most unlimited satisfaction.
'Nice men these here, Sir,' whispered Mr. Weller to his master; very nice notion of fun they has, Sir.'
Mr. Pickwick nodded assent, and coughed to attract the attention of the
young gentlemen behind the partition, who, having now relaxed their
minds by a little conversation among themselves, condescended to take
some notice of the stranger.
'I wonder whether Fogg's disengaged now?' said Jackson.
'I'll see,' said Wicks, dismounting leisurely from his stool.
'What name shall I tell Mr. Fogg?'
'Pickwick,' replied the illustrious subject of these memoirs.
Mr. Jackson departed upstairs on his errand, and immediately returned
with a message that Mr. Fogg would see Mr. Pickwick in five minutes;
and having delivered it, returned again to his desk.
'What did he say his name was?' whispered Wicks. 'Pickwick,' replied Jackson; 'it's the defendant in Bardell and Pickwick.'
A sudden scraping of feet, mingled with the sound of suppressed laughter, was heard from behind the partition.
'They're a-twiggin' of you, Sir,' whispered Mr. Weller.
'Twigging of me, Sam!' replied Mr. Pickwick; 'what do you mean by twigging me?'
Mr. Weller replied by pointing with his thumb over his shoulder, and
Mr. Pickwick, on looking up, became sensible of the pleasing fact, that
all the four clerks, with countenances expressive of the utmost
amusement, and with their heads thrust over the wooden screen, were
minutely inspecting the figure and general appearance of the supposed
trifler with female hearts, and disturber of female happiness. On his
looking up, the row of heads suddenly disappeared, and the sound of
pens travelling at a furious rate over paper, immediately succeeded.
A sudden ring at the bell which hung in the office, summoned Mr.
Jackson to the apartment of Fogg, from whence he came back to say that
he (Fogg) was ready to see Mr. Pickwick if he would step upstairs.
Upstairs Mr. Pickwick did step accordingly, leaving Sam Weller
below. The room door of the one-pair back, bore inscribed in legible
characters the imposing words, 'Mr. Fogg'; and, having tapped there at,
and been desired to come in, Jackson ushered Mr. Pickwick into the
presence.
'Is Mr. Dodson in?' inquired Mr. Fogg. 'Just come in, Sir,' replied
Jackson. 'Ask him to step here.' 'Yes, sir.' Exit Jackson. 'Take a
seat, sir,' said Fogg; 'there is the paper, sir; my partner will be
here directly, and we can converse about this matter, sir.'
Mr. Pickwick took a seat and the paper, but, instead of reading the
latter, peeped over the top of it, and took a survey of the man of
business, who was an elderly, pimply-faced, vegetable-diet sort of man,
in a black coat, dark mixture trousers, and small black gaiters; a kind
of being who seemed to be an essential part of the desk at which he was
writing, and to have as much thought or feeling. After a few minutes'
silence, Mr. Dodson, a plump, portly, stern-looking man, with a loud
voice, appeared; and the conversation commenced.
'This is Mr. Pickwick,' said Fogg. 'Ah! You are the defendant, Sir, in
Bardell and Pickwick?' said Dodson. 'I am, sir,' replied Mr. Pickwick.
'Well, sir,' said Dodson, 'and what do you propose?' 'Ah!' said Fogg,
thrusting his hands into his trousers' pockets, and throwing himself
back in his chair, 'what do you propose, Mr Pickwick?' 'Hush, Fogg,'
said Dodson, 'let me hear what Mr. Pickwick has to say.'
'I came, gentlemen,' said Mr. Pickwick, gazing placidly on the two
partners, 'I came here, gentlemen, to express the surprise with which I
received your letter of the other day, and to inquire what grounds of
action you can have against me.'
'Grounds of—' Fogg had ejaculated this much, when he was stopped by
Dodson. 'Mr. Fogg,' said Dodson, 'I am going to speak.' 'I beg your
pardon, Mr. Dodson,' said Fogg.
we, are guided entirely by the statement of our
client
'For the grounds of action, sir,' continued Dodson, with moral
elevation in his air, 'you will consult your own conscience and your
own feelings. We, Sir, we, are guided entirely by the statement of our
client. That statement, Sir, may be true, or it may be false; it may be
credible, or it may be incredible; but, if it be true, and if it be
credible, I do not hesitate to say, Sir, that our grounds of action,
Sir, are strong, and not to be shaken.
You may be an unfortunate man, Sir, or you may be a designing one; but
if I were called upon, as a juryman upon my oath, Sir, to express an
opinion of your conduct, Sir, I do not hesitate to assert that I should
have but one opinion about it.' Here Dodson drew himself up, with an
air of offended virtue, and looked at Fogg, who thrust his hands
farther in his pockets, and nodding his head sagely, said, in a tone of
the fullest concurrence, 'Most certainly.'
'Well, Sir,' said Mr. Pickwick, with considerable pain depicted in his
countenance, 'you will permit me to assure you that I am a most
unfortunate man, so far as this case is concerned.' 'I hope you are,
Sir,' replied Dodson; 'I trust you may be, Sir. If you are really
innocent of what is laid to your charge, you are more unfortunate than
I had believed any man could possibly be. What do you say, Mr. Fogg?'
'I say precisely what you say,' replied Fogg, with a smile of
incredulity. 'The writ, Sir, which commences the action,' continued
Dodson, 'was issued regularly.
Mr. Fogg, where is the PRAECIPE book?' 'Here it is,' said Fogg, handing
over a square book, with a parchment cover. 'Here is the entry,'
resumed Dodson. '"Middlesex, Capias MARTHA BARDELL, WIDOW, v. SAMUEL
PICKWICK. Damages £1500. Dodson & Fogg for the plaintiff, Aug. 28,
1827." All regular, Sir; perfectly.' Dodson coughed and looked at Fogg,
who said 'Perfectly,' also. And then they both looked at Mr. Pickwick.
'I am to understand, then,' said Mr. Pickwick, 'that it really is your
intention to proceed with this action?' 'Understand, sir!—that you
certainly may,' replied Dodson, with something as near a smile as his
importance would allow.
'And that the damages are actually laid at fifteen hundred pounds?'
said Mr. Pickwick. 'To which understanding you may add my assurance,
that if we could have prevailed upon our client, they would have been
laid at treble the amount, sir,' replied Dodson.
'I believe Mrs. Bardell specially said, however,' observed Fogg,
glancing at Dodson, 'that she would not compromise for a farthing
less.' 'Unquestionably,' replied Dodson sternly. For the action was
only just begun; and it wouldn't have done to let Mr. Pickwick
compromise it then, even if he had been so disposed. '
As you offer no terms, sir,' said Dodson, displaying a slip of
parchment in his right hand, and affectionately pressing a paper copy
of it, on Mr. Pickwick with his left, 'I had better serve you with a
copy of this writ, sir. Here is the original, sir.'
'Very well, gentlemen, very well,' said Mr. Pickwick, rising in person
and wrath at the same time; 'you shall hear from my solicitor,
gentlemen.' 'We shall be very happy to do so,' said Fogg, rubbing his
hands. 'Very,' said Dodson, opening the door.
'And before I go, gentlemen,' said the excited Mr. Pickwick, turning
round on the landing, 'permit me to say, that of all the disgraceful
and rascally proceedings—' 'Stay, sir, stay,' interposed Dodson, with
great politeness.
'Mr. Jackson! Mr. Wicks!' 'Sir,' said the two clerks, appearing at the
bottom of the stairs. 'I merely want you to hear what this gentleman
says,' replied Dodson. 'Pray, go on, sir—disgraceful and rascally
proceedings, I think you said?' 'I did,' said Mr. Pickwick, thoroughly
roused. 'I said, Sir, that of all the disgraceful and rascally
proceedings that ever were attempted, this is the most so. I repeat it,
sir.'
'You hear that, Mr. Wicks,' said Dodson. 'You won't forget these
expressions, Mr. Jackson?' said Fogg. 'Perhaps you would like to call
us swindlers, sir,' said Dodson. 'Pray do, Sir, if you feel disposed;
now pray do, Sir.' 'I do,' said Mr. Pickwick. 'You ARE swindlers.'
'Very good,' said Dodson. 'You can hear down there, I hope, Mr. Wicks?'
'Oh, yes, Sir,' said Wicks. 'You had better come up a step or two
higher, if you can't,' added Mr. Fogg.
You would like to assault one of us. Pray do it, Sir
'Go on, Sir; do go on. You had better call us thieves, Sir; or perhaps
You would like to assault one of us. Pray do it, Sir, if you would; we
will not make the smallest resistance. Pray do it, Sir.' As Fogg put
himself very temptingly within the reach of Mr. Pickwick's clenched
fist, there is little doubt that that gentleman would have complied
with his earnest entreaty, but for the interposition of Sam, who,
hearing the dispute, emerged from the office, mounted the stairs, and
seized his master by the arm.
'You just come away,' said Mr. Weller. 'Battledore and shuttlecock's a
very good game, when you ain't the shuttlecock and two lawyers the
battledores, in which case it gets too excitin' to be pleasant. Come
away, Sir. If you want to ease your mind by blowing up somebody, come
out into the court and blow up me; but it's rather too expensive work
to be carried on here.'
And without the slightest ceremony, Mr. Weller hauled his master down
the stairs, and down the court, and having safely deposited him in
Cornhill, fell behind, prepared to follow whithersoever he should lead.
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