It was really of a very flimsy kind but “bolstered-up” and carried through by the bluster of the serjeant and the smartness of his junior. It rested first on a dialogue between Mr. Pickwick and his landlady which was overheard, in fact by several persons; second, on a striking situation witnessed by his three friends who entered unexpectedly and surprised him with Mrs. Bardell in his arms; third, on some documentary evidence, and lastly, on a damaging incident disclosed by Winkle.

The first witness “put in the box,” was Mrs. Martha Cluppins an intimate friend of the plaintiffs.

We know that she was sister to Mrs. Raddle, who lived far away in Southwark, and was the landlady of Mr. Sawyer. She might have been cross-examined with effect as to her story that she had been “out buying kidney pertaties,” etc. Why buy these articles in Goswell Street and come all the way from Southwark? What was she doing there at all? This question could have been answered only in one way which was that the genial author fancied at the moment she was living near Mrs. Bardell.

Besides this, there was another point which Snubbin, in cross-examination, ought to have driven home. Mrs. Cluppins was of an inferior type, of the common washerwoman or “charing” sort; her language was of Mrs. Gamp’s kind; “which her name was” so and so. Yet, this creature, in another room, or on the stairs, the door being “on the jar,” can repeat with her limited appreciation, those dubious and imperfect utterances of Mr. Pickwick! How could she remember all? Or could she understand them? Impossible! She, however, may have caught up something.

Winkle, too, said he heard something as he came up the stairs “Compose yourself my dear creature, for consider if any one were to come,” etc. But what could be the value of evidence heard in this way? Would a jury believe it? “Not only,” as Sam said, “is ‘wision limited,’” but hearing also.

In short, the delicate subtleties of the conversation between Mr. Pickwick and Mrs. Bardell would be wholly lost in her hands. Persons of her class know nothing of suggestion or double meanings or reserved intention, everything for them must be in black and white. How unlikely, therefore, that through the panels of a door or through the half opened door, ("she said on the jar,”) could she catch the phrases and their meanings, and, above all, retain them in her memory? No doubt, as the counsel put it bluntly, she listened, and with all her ears.

However this may be, here is what Mrs. Cluppins deposed to:

‘Mrs. Cluppins,’ said Serjeant Buzfuz, ‘pray compose yoursel, ma’am;’ and, of course, directly Mrs. Cluppins was desired to compose herself she sobbed with increased violence, and gave divers alarming manifestations of an approaching fainting fit, or, as she afterwards said, of her feelings being too many for her.

‘Do you recollect, Mrs. Cluppins?’ said Serjeant Buzfuz, after a few unimportant questions ’do you recollect being in Mrs. Bardell’s back one pair of stairs, on one particular morning in July last, when she was dusting Mr. Pickwick’s apartment?’

‘Yes, my Lord and jury, I do,’ replied Mrs. Cluppins.

‘Mr. Pickwick’s sitting-room was the first floor front, I believe?’

‘Yes it were, sir,’ replied Mrs. Cluppins.

‘What were you doing in the back room, ma’am?’ inquired the little
judge.

‘My Lord and jury,’ said Mrs. Cluppins, with interesting agitation,
‘I will not deceive you.’

‘You had better not, ma’am,’ said the little judge.

‘I was there,’ resumed Mrs. Cluppins, ’unbeknown to Mrs. Bardell; I had been out with a little basket, gentlemen, to buy three pounds of red kidney pertaties, which was three pound, tuppense ha’penny, when I see Mrs. Bardell’s street door on the jar.’

‘On the what?’ exclaimed the little judge.

‘Partly open, my Lord,’ said Serjeant Snubbin.

‘She said on the jar,’ said the little judge with a cunning look.

‘It’s all the same, my lord,’ said Serjeant Snubbin. The little
judge looked doubtful, and said he’d make a note of it. Mrs.
Cluppins then resumed

‘I walked in, gentlemen, just to say good mornin’, and went in a
permiscuous manner up-stairs, and into the back room. Gentlemen,
there was the sound of voices in the front room, and ’

‘And you listened, I believe, Mrs. Cluppins,’ said Serjeant Buzfuz.

‘Beggin’ your pardon, sir,’ replied Mrs. Cluppins, in a majestic
manner, ’I would scorn the haction. The voices was very loud, sir,
and forced themselves upon my ear.’

’Well, Mrs. Cluppins, you were not listening, but you heard the
voices. Was one of those voices Mr. Pickwick’s?’

‘Yes, it were, sir.’

And Mrs. Cluppins, after distinctly stating that Mr. Pickwick addressed himself to Mrs. Bardell, repeated by slow degrees, and by dint of many questions the conversation with which our readers are already acquainted.

Now we have to turn back to one of the earlier passages in the story for the conversation between the pair, “with which the reader is already acquainted.” Thus we shall know what Mrs. Cluppin’s might have heard.

Mr. Pickwick paced the room to and fro with hurried steps, popped his head out of the window at intervals of about three minutes each, constantly referred to his watch, and exhibited many other manifestations of impatience, very unusual with him. It was evident that something of great importance was in contemplation, but what that something was not even Mrs. Bardell herself had been enabled to discover.

‘Mrs. Bardell,’ said Mr. Pickwick at last, as that amiable female
approached the termination of a prolonged dusting of the apartment.

‘Sir,’ said Mrs. Bardell.

‘Your little boy is a very long time gone.’

‘Why, it’s a good long way to the Borough, sir,’ remonstrated Mrs.
Bardell.

‘Ah,’ said Pickwick, ‘very true; so it is.’

Mr. Pickwick relapsed into silence, and Mrs. Bardell resumed her
dusting.

‘Mrs. Bardell,’ said Mr. Pickwick, at the expiration of a few
minutes.

‘Sir,’ said Mrs. Bardell again.

’Do you think it’s a much greater expense to keep two people, than to
keep one?’

‘La, Mr. Pickwick,’ said Mrs. Bardell, colouring up to the very border of her cap, as she fancied she observed a species of matrimonial twinkle in the eyes of her lodger, ’La, Mr. Pickwick, what a question!’

‘Well, but do you?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick.

‘That depends ’ said Mrs. Bardell, approaching the duster very near to Mr. Pickwick’s elbow, which was planted on the table; ’that depends a good deal upon the person, you know, Mr. Pickwick; and whether it’s a saving and careful person, sir.’

‘That’s very true,’ said Mr. Pickwick, ’but the person I have in my eye (here he looked very hard at Mrs. Bardell) I think possesses these qualities; and has, moreover, a considerable knowledge of the world, and a great deal of sharpness, Mrs. Bardell; which may be of material use to me.’

‘La, Mr. Pickwick,’ said Mrs. Bardell; the crimson rising to her
cap-border again.

‘I do,’ said Mr. Pickwick, growing energetic, as was his wont in
speaking of a subject which interested him, ’I do, indeed; and to
tell you the truth, Mrs. Bardell, I have made up my mind.’

‘Dear me, sir,’ exclaimed Mrs. Bardell.

‘You’ll think it very strange, now,’ said the amiable Mr. Pickwick, with a good humoured glance at his companion, ’that I never consulted you about this matter, and never even mentioned it, till I sent your little boy out this morning, eh?’

Mrs. Bardell could only reply by a look. She had long worshipped Mr. Pickwick at a distance, but here she was, all at once, raised to a pinnacle to which her wildest and most extravagant hopes and never dared to aspire. Mr. Pickwick was going to propose a deliberate plan, too sent her little boy to the Borough, to get him out of the way how thoughtful how considerate!’

‘Well,’ said Mr. Pickwick, ‘what do you think?’

‘Oh, Mr. Pickwick,’ said Mrs. Bardell, trembling with agitation,
‘you’re very kind, sir.’

‘It’ll save you a good deal of trouble, won’t it?’ said Mr. Pickwick.

‘Oh, I never thought anything of the trouble, sir,’ replied Mrs. Bardell; ’and, of course, I should take more trouble to please you then, than ever; but it is so kind of you, Mr. Pickwick, to have so much consideration for my loneliness.’

‘Ah, to be sure,’ said Mr. Pickwick; ’I never thought of that. When
I am in town, you’ll always have somebody to sit with you. To be
sure, so you will.’

‘I’m sure I ought to be a very happy woman,’ said Mrs. Bardell.

‘And your little boy ’ said Mr. Pickwick.

‘Bless his heart,’ interposed Mrs. Bardell, with a maternal sob.

‘He, too, will have a companion,’ resumed Mr. Pickwick, ’a lively
one, who’ll teach him, I’ll be bound, more tricks in a week than he
would ever learn in a year.’ And Mr. Pickwick smiled placidly.

‘Oh, you dear ’ said Mrs. Bardell.

Mr. Pickwick started.

‘Oh, you kind, good, playful dear,’ said Mrs. Bardell; and without
more ado, she rose from her chair, and flung her arms round Mr.
Pickwick’s neck, with a cataract of tears, and a chorus of sobs.

‘Bless my soul,’ cried the astonished Mr. Pickwick; ’Mrs. Bardell,
my good woman dear me, what a situation pray consider, Mrs.
Bardell, if anybody should come.’

‘O, let them come,’ exclaimed Mrs. Bardell, frantically.

‘I’ll never leave you, dear, kind, good soul.’ And with these words
Mrs. Bardell clung the tighter.

Every utterance of the little Judge is in character, from his first directions “go on.” His suspicious question, “what were you doing in the back room, ma’am?” and on Serjeant Buzfuz’s sudden pause for breath, when “the silence awoke Mr. Justice Stareleigh, who immediately wrote down something, with a pen without any ink in it, and looked unusually profound, to impress his jury with the belief that he always thought most deeply with his eyes shut.” Also when at the “on the jar” incident he “looked doubtful, but said he’d make a note of it.” So when Sam made one of his free and easy speeches, the Judge looked sternly at Sam for fully two minutes, but Sam’s features were so perfectly calm that he said nothing. When Sam, too, made his witty reposte to Buzfuz as to his “wision being limited,” we are told that there was a great laugh that even “the little Judge smiled:” a good touch, for he enjoyed, like other judges, seeing his learned brother get a fall ’tis human nature.

It must be said the impression of a listener, who had heard all this could have been anything but favourable to Mr. Pickwick. No doubt there was his paternally benevolent character to correct it: but even this might go against him as it would suggest a sort of hypocrisy. Even the firmest friends, in their surprise, do not pause to debate or reason; they are astonished and wonder exceedingly.