Pickwickian Studies

reat Whi

the narrow, winding streets with the Grummers, Nupkins, Jingles, Pickwick and his followers; with the immortal lady aforesaid in her yellow curl papers, to say nothing of Mr. Peter Magnus. From afar off even, we look at Ipswich with a singular interest; some of us go down there to enjoy the peculiar feeling-and it is a peculiar and piquant one-of staying at Mr. Pickwick's Inn-of sleeping even in his room. This relish, however, is only given to your true "follower," not to his German-metal counterfeit-though, strange to say, at this moment, Pickwick is chiefly "made in Germany," and comes to us from that country in highly-coloured almanacks-and pictures of all kinds. About Ipswich there is a very appropriate old-fashioned tone, and much of the proper country town air. The streets seem dingy enough-the hay waggon is encountered often. The "Great White Horse," which is at the corner of several streets, is a low, longish building-with a rather

lt vanes of other quaint, old buildings; you see a glimpse of the road rising and falling, with its pathways raised on each side, with all sorts of faded tints-mellow, subdued reds, sombre greys, a patch of green here and there, and all more or less dingy, and "quite out of fashion." There is a rather forlorn tone over it all, especially when we have a glimpse of Ordnance Terrace, at Chatham, that abandoned

homely way enough. The "White Horse" was not likely to put itself out for him, and he criticises

cuous by a stone statue of some rampacious animal, with flowing mane and tail, distantly resembling an insane cart horse, which is elevated above the principal door. The 'Great White Horse' is famous in the neighbourhood in the same degree as a prize ox or county paper-chronicled turnip, o

dispiriting influence of the place." The dinner, too, seems to have been as bad, for a bit of fish and a steak took one hour to get ready, with "a bottle of the worst possible port, at the highest possible price." Depreciation of a host

s sketch of the waiter who rece

ortnight's napkin under hi

bad reception. As we said, the young reporter was likely enough to have been treated with h

us," however, scarcely seems correct-"Rampagious" is the proper form-particularly as "Boz" uses the words "On the rampage." We find ourselves ever looking at the animal with interest-as he effects his trot, one leg bent. The porch, and horse abo

s, turns, and short flights. There is even now to be seen the niche where Mr. Pickwick sat down for the night; so minute are the directions we can trace the various rooms. Mr. Pickwick asked for a private room and was taken do

self, who had lost his way in the mazes of the passages. I have a theory that his uncomfortable ni

nswill a

er, he had been despatched by the proprietors of the Chronicle to report the speeches at the election, and he did not care to take advantage of his mission for literary purposes. The father of the late Mr. Alfred Morrison, the well-known, amiable virtuoso, was one of the ca

in the town, and had no knowledge of any householders there who could be bail for him. Now if Eatanswill were Ipswich, he must have known many-the Pott family for instance-and he had resided there for some time. But the author did not intend that the reader should believe that the two places were

w Bury is no more than about four-and-twenty miles from Ipswich, a matter of about four hours' coach travelling. Great Yarmouth is fully seventy by roundabout roads, which could not be described as being "a short way from here." It would ha

ies. When he was at Ipswich for the election, he, beyond doubt, entered with zest and enjoyment into all the humours. No one could have written so minute and hearty an account w

he moment. But, in January, 1835, when he stood again, he was successful. This must have been the one in Pickwick, when the excesses there described may have taken place. There were four candidates: one of whom, Mr. Dundas-no doubt depicted as the Honourable Mr. Slumkey-being of the noble family of Zetland. We find that the successful candidate was unseated on petition, and his place ta

od, that is, by crossing out a name to reveal the name. It is much more likely he meant that the town was somewhere between Norwich and London, and on that line. There are arguments, too, from the distances. There are two journeys in the book from Eatanswill to Bury, which seem to furnish data for both theories-the Ipswich and the Norwich ones. But if we have to take the déje?ner in its literal sense, and put it early in the day, say, at eleven, and Mr. Pickwick's arrival at Bury, "wery late," as

to say nothing of the chance of missing the "correspondance" with the Northern Norwich coach. Then again, Boz is careful to state that Eatanswill was "one of the smaller towns." In this class we would not place Norwich, a large Cathedral City, with its innumerable churches, and population, even then, of over 60,000, whereas Ipswich was certainly one of these "smaller towns," having only 20,000. It must be also considered, too, that this was a cross road, when the pace would be slower than on the great main lines, say, at five miles an hour, which, with stoppages, &c., would occupy a pe

eturned the same evening. The place must have been but a short way off, when he could go and return in the same day. Then what brought him to Eatanswill? We are told that at the ti

resent-mixed colours"-something very like this he must have noticed in the Report. A constable, asked was his comrade, one Seagrave, Buff, answered, "well, half and half, I believe." In the Report, voters were captured and put to bed at the White Horse; and Sam tells how he "pumped over" a number of voters at the same house. The very waiter, who received Mr. Pickwick so contemptuously

e, as the Road Book shows. Why then would he call the White Horse by that name? The Town Arms of I

the book. How admirable is the description; "a tall, thin man with a sandy-coloured head, inclined to baldness, and a face in which solemn importance was blended with a look of unfathomable profundity. He was dressed in a long, brown surtout, with a black cloth waistcoat and drab trousers. A double eye-glass dangled at his waistcoat, and on his head he wore a very low-crowned hat with a broad rim." Every touch is delightful-althoug

atanswill Gazette, was no exaggerated picture. This is how The Eagle, in a late issue, speaks of the Russian occupation of Port Arthur:-"And once again that keen, fierce glance is cast in the direction of the grasping Muscovite; again, one of the foulest, one of the vilest dynasties that has impiously trampled on the laws of God, and has violated every progressive aspiration the Almighty implanted in the human heart when He fashioned man in His own image, and brea

kins and

ointed at him. There can be little doubt, however, that Nupkins was drawn from a London Police Magistrate, and is, in fact, another portrait of the functionary whom he sketched specially for "O

wick, "but before you proceed to act upon any opinion y

" said the magistr

to you, sir-" s

r I shall order an o

rs to do whatever you plea

h this "Oli

you?" sai

word, and that is I really never, withou

, sir," said Mr.

l not,

stant, or I'll have you t

e whole state of affairs. Mr. Nupkins, with all his insolent despotism, was held in check

like Mr. Jin

with the case, sir?" inquire

emonstrating. At length the magistrate, gulping down with a very bad grace his

kstall-keeper rushed in, and insisted on being he

," said the man, "I w

ang, with a very ill grace. "N

Nupkins s

ntly a despe

, sir," said Mr.

is he. A conspiracy to de

ng and the

it paid for?

ll about it," exclai

against a poor boy," said Fang; "

so

Pickwick's disclosures, he becomes very rational and amiable. We may wonder, too, how the latter could have accepted hospitality from, or have sat down at the board of, the man who treated hi

lady, however, was silent as to her admirer, and this difficulty appears to have occurred to the author for he makes Mr. Nupkins remark: "The other principal yo

Horse" and following the street on the right, "he found himself in a retired spot, a kind of courtyard of venerable appearance, which he discovered had no other outlet than the turning by which he had entered." I believe it is the house at the far end of the lane-now Mr. Bennett

ng to an indiscretion of the foolish Winkle's, during the famous action of Bardell v. Pickwick, we learn that Mr. Pickwick "being found in a lady's apartment at midnight had led to the breaking off of the projected marriage of the lady in question." Now this seems a serious result of Mr. Pickwick's indiscretion, and

her at eleven. "It only wants a quarter now." Breakfast was waiting, and the pair sat down to it. Mr. Magnus was looking at the clock every other second. Presently he announced, "It only wants two minutes." Notwithstanding this feverish impatie

. Pickwick

was best to begin. "Why," said the other, cautiously, "I may have formed some ideas on the subject," but then added that he had "never submitted them to the test of experience." This is distinct enough, but it does all the same hint at some affaire de c?ur, else why would he "have formed some ideas upon the subject." Of course, it may be that he was thinking of Mrs. Bardell and her cruel charges. Still, it was strange that a man should have reached to fifty, have grown round and stout, without ever offering his hand. The first picture in the book, however, helps us to speculate a little. Over his head in the room at Dulwich hangs the portrait of an old lady i

, even amorous, cast. He seized every opportunity of kissing the young ladies. He would certainly have like

his own daughters, only, as he might possibly have infused a little more

eizing both the young lady's hands in his, kissed her a great many times-perhaps a greater number of times than was absolutely necessary." Observe the artfulness of all this-the deliberation-taking off the spectacles so that

the night and the morning. She was, no doubt, a person of property-otherwise Mr. Magnus would not have been so eager, and he must have been a fortune hunter, for he confided to Mr. Pickwick, that he had been jilted "three or four times." W

Nupkins retired to lunch, after his interview with Miss Witherfield, the Pickwickians sat down to their dinner "quietly," and were in the midst of that meal, when Grummer arrived to arrest them. They were taken to Nupkins', and there dined with him. This dinner would

tch on a hotel table was the last thing a staid man of business would do. How could he be made to forget it? "By winding it up," said the author. "Winding up his watch, and laying it on the table." Thi

t the breakfast next day was at eleven o'clock-a late hour. But we know, though it is not pointed out, that Mr. Magnus and Mr. Pickwick had sat til

rn that "the small hand of the clock, following the latter part of his example, had arrived at the figure which indicates the half hour." The "latter part," would refer to "fro." Perhaps it is a fresh gibe at the unluck

cash, and could make a new appearance-in a new district-as an officer-Captain FitzMarshall. He

e, gave them to me. The "White Horse" was decidedly wrong in having Mr. Pickwick's double-bedded room fitted up with brass Birmingham bedsteads. Were I the proprietor I would assuredly have the room arranged exactly as in Phiz's picture-the two old-fashioned four-posts with the dimity curtains

man, also arrested? As both would not fit in an ordinary sedan, the sedan was made to fit them, and thus it was done. "It was recollected that there stood in the Inn yard an old s

or Mr. Pickwick have taken off their garments. To produce this result, much elaborate machinery was requisite. The beds were arranged as if on the stage, one on each side of the door with a sort of little lane between the wall and each bed. Mr. Pickwick, we are told, actually crept into this lane, got to the end where there was a chair, and in this straight, confined situation proceeded to take off his coat and vest and to fold them up. It was t

nother of these hotel misadventures which, he protested, was the most "side-splitting" thing ever he heard of. A gentleman who was staying at one of the monster Paris hotels with his lady, was seized with some violent cold or pulmonary attack. She went down to try and get him a mustard plaster, which, with much difficulty, she contrived. Returning in triumph, as Mr. Pickwick did with his recovered watch, she found that he had fallen into a gentle sleep, and was lying with his head buried in the pillows. With much softness and deftness, she quickly drew

hicago Exhibition-when a large and complete model was prepared and set up in the building. This was a

wich T

ust after the conclusion of "Pickwick," and which, most appropriately, seem to record little but Boz's own work. Pickwick, Oliver, Nickleby, and others, are the Bill of Fare, and it may be conceived that audiences would attend to see their own Great White Horse, and the spinster lady in her curl papers, and Mr. Nupkins, the Mayor, brought on the boards. These old strips of tissue paper have a stran

sayings and doin

his Theatre from the ce

B

y shouts of laughter and reiterated peals of applause upon every representation,

esigned and execute

. The quadrilles under the

haracters

and travelling the counties of Esse

a leetle bi

ng member also; and a s

something between a servant and a friend t

addicted to cold p

love with Jingle or anybo

y represented in such a

es!" are danced "as performed at the Nobility's Balls." (I have these quadrilles, with Mr. Pickwick, on the title.) Then comes the White Hart, and "How

of Nigh

reason was that the proprietor was disgusted by the unflattering account given of his

his own O

e one is patent from another bill, December 10, 1843, some four years later,

the Whit

with it, there could be no objection. Barnaby Rudge, however, was the piece of resistance. On another occasion, January, 1840, came Mr. J. Russell, with his vocal entertain

the standing dish. The old Ipswich Theatre is certainly an i

ho wa

culty-just as Pott-the "Pot-valiant," declined to "serve him so," i.e., Slurk; being restrained by the laws of his country. He was an assistant editor to the "Standard," and had furnished scurrilites to the "John Bull." He had about this time also obtained an influence over the interesting "L. E. L.," whom John Forster, it is known, was "courting," and by some rumours and machinations succeeded in breaking off the business. Now Forster and Boz, at the time, were bosom friends-Forster could be unsparing enough where he was injured: and how natural that his new friend should share his enmities. Boz was always glad to gibbet a notorious public abuse, and here was an opportunity. Maginn's friend, Kenealey, wrote to an American, who was about to edit Maginn's

assioned arguments, pleadings, and an appeal to take it at the most wonderfully low price. Then we have desirable information, dealing with topics of varied kind, and assurances that material would here be found for dealing conveniently with every known subject. Still, what a surprise that use was not made of "the immortal Pickwick" in whose pages these peculiar advantages were m

, such universal attention and admiration." A fine tribute surely to the Encyclopedia. For recollect Pott's was a newspaper. The Times folk say nothing of this important view. Poor, simple Mr. Pickwick had not seen the articles because he was busy travelling ab

hat he was not aware that so abstruse a topic was dealt with in its pages. He had perhaps consulted the book, say, at Garraway's Coffee House, for, alas! the good man was not able to have a library of his own, living, as he did, in lodgings or at the "George and Vulture." Mr. Pott, however, who

d for China under the letter C, and combined his information, sir." There we have it! We find separate articles De omni scribili, and many topics unavoidably passed over; but we see how this can be cured by the ingenious Pott system. Combine your information! There you are! Here for instance-under "Metaphysics" we do find something about' Confucius and the o

what are we to think of the Eatanswill readers-surely in advance, too. And here we have him, nearly seventy years ago, giving a well-deserved puff to the Encyclopedia, which is really worth the innumerable columns the leading journal has devoted to the book. Its last effort was