Perker, it has been shown, was not
a very brilliant solicitor, and his views on the trial
were somewhat cloudy. When he was urging his
client to leave the Fleet he threw out some equally
shadowy and ill-informed notions as to what might
be done in the way of punishing the nefarious solicitors,
Dodson and Fogg, “those Freeman’s Court
Sharks.”
His great charge was that they had
got a cognovit, or undertaking to pay their
costs out of Mrs. Bardell their own client!
Mr. Pickwick refused to pay them why should
not she? The poor woman had “blabbed”
to Sam, a careless and natural assurance of theirs,
that they would be content to get them from Mr. Pickwick a
thing many a firm would do. But Perker here
sees a regular conspiracy. “I cannot undertake
to say whether the wording of the cognovit, the nature
of the ostensible consideration and the proof we can
get together about the whole conduct of the suit,
will be sufficient to justify an indictment for
conspiracy.”
It is impossible to understand this
bit of legal jargon. “The wording of the
cognovit” one could speculate on that
without seeing it. (2) “The nature of the ostensible
consideration” was not far to seek it
being work and labour done for the Plaintiff.
And again, supposing they had promised her to get
them solely from Mr. Pickwick Sam’s
revelation of this, in open court, and its reception
with laughter, showed what was thought of it.
So which of the two courses were they to adopt? (3)
And “the proof we may get together about the
whole conduct of the suit.” This “whole
conduct” was perfectly regular. So the
Judge thought so did the jury. The
case was proved by Pickwick’s own friends.
As we know, however, the firm took no steps to obtain
satisfaction, but there cannot be the slightest doubt
that they would have “recovered damages.”
We doubt if Mr. Pickwick would have gone to the Fleet
for the second time rather than pay.
Perker’s suspicions as to the
Cognovit obtained by Dodson and Fogg were shrewd,
and certain enough, though he could not have seen the
document. The suspicions were well warranted
by the state of the Law, which became an instrument
in the hands of grasping attorneys. By it the
client was made to sign an acknowledgment, and offering
no defence to a supposed action, say for
costs brought against him, Judgment was
then marked.
This offered a great temptation to
the unscrupulous. Mrs. Bardell, no doubt, signed
with light heart, not knowing what she was doing, and
being told that it was merely a matter of form.
Various enactments attempted to protect the client one
being passed some four or five years before the trial
Bardell v. Pickwick, requiring the Cognovit
to be regularly filed within twenty-one days; more
than ten years later it was required, that the client’s
signing such a thing should have no force in Law,
unless he was represented by another solicitor.
The matter, as we know, was compromised
with Dodson and Fogg, so there was no need to scrutinize
the Cognovit. No doubt Perker was enabled
to put pressure on the firm by hinting at such proceedings.
The damages, 750 pounds, were certainly
moderate, and would not have been reduced by the Court
on an application to set them aside as “excessive.”
The good woman was quite at her ease, being no doubt
certain that Mr. Pickwick, at last, must give in.
She could even enjoy the society of her friends and
make the celebrated junketting to the “Spaniards.”
The firm took another view and grew tired of waiting;
or they were sagacious enough to see that the arrest
of their client was about the best method of putting
pressure on Mr. Pickwick. In this connection,
it may be noted that Jackson’s over zeal in
the transaction might have led to an action against
his employers; for he arrested not only Mrs. Bardell,
but her friends, Mrs. Sanders and Mrs. Cluppins.
The prison gates were actually shut on them.
“Safe and sound,” said the Bailiff.
“Here we are at last,” said Jackson,
“all right and tight.”
True, Mrs. Bardell put under her hand
in her appealing letter to Mr. Pickwick, that “this
business was from the very first fomented and encouraged
and brought about by these men,” but this is
not much; for the view only occurs to her when her
operations had completely failed and recoiled on her
own head with such disastrous result. The firm’s
business was to persuade her that she had a good case,
and the Jury’s verdict proved that she had.
Had Mr. Pickwick given in and paid, she would have
had no scruples. One cannot, at the same time,
but admire the ingenuity of the author, in bringing
such a Nemesis on her. Dodson and Fogg, we are
told, “continue in business from which they realise
a large income, and in which they are universally
considered among the sharpest of the sharp.”
At the last interview, at Perker’s,
when the costs were paid, one might have expected
Mr. Pickwick to behave with a certain disdainful dignity.
He was beaten and had paid over the stakes, and could
afford to treat his enemy with contempt. Not
so. The partners held out the olive branch by
alluding to the way they had passed by his unmannerly
attacks on them. “I beg to assure you,
sir, I bear you no ill will or vindictive feeling
for sentiments you thought proper to express of us
in our office,” and the other partner said,
“I hope you don’t think quite so ill of
us, etc.” This was rather gentlemanly
and becoming. One offered his hand. But
Mr. Pickwick broke out in a perfect fury. They
had assumed a tone of forgiveness which was “an
excess of impudence.” He had been “the
victim of their plots and conspiracies.”
They had imprisoned and robbed him. It was “insolent
familiarity.” At last he said, “You
are a well-matched pair of mean, rascally,
pettifogging robbers.” This sentence
he repeated three times, and the words “Robbers”
he shouted after them many times over the stairs.
Sharping attornies! Why, a real
sharping firm would have forced from their client
advances of fee, “cash out of pocket,”
have made her give a Bill of Sale on her lease and
goods, and have fairly stripped her of everything
before the case began. Of the damages had
they got them she would have seen but little.
The Cognovit that was extracted
from Mrs. Bardell was an acknowledgement, as we have
seen, which entitled them to enter up judgment just
as if a trial had taken place. In the Oxford
great Dictionary, it reads quaintly to find Mrs. Bardell’s
cognovit quoted as an illustration of the legal meaning.
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.”