The Pickwick Club discussion

Hello my Fellow Pickwickians,

the story is getting grimmer and grimmer, as it seems to me ... Maybe you'd like to share your impressions anyway, and this is the thread where you can do this.

Grimmer and grimmer indeed, but there are still sparks of goodness to be found:

would have harnessed the horses, but that the post-boy of the village—a soft-hearted, good-for-nothing, vagabond kind of fellow—was moved by his earnestness and passion, and, throwing down a pitchfork with which he was armed, swore that the rioters might cut him into mincemeat if they liked, but he would not stand by and see an honest gentleman who had done no wrong, reduced to such extremity, without doing what he could to help him.

In Chapter 61 Lord Haredale arrives at the Mansion House with his prisioner , it is the house of the chief magistrate of the city. He is called the Lord Mayer throughout this section so I looked this person up:

Brackley Kennett was a British merchant who served as Sheriff of London in 1765 and Lord Mayor of London from 1779-1780. During his time in office the Gordon Riots broke out and his response to the rioting proved controversial. He failed to read the Riot Act, or to offer additional protection to threatened communities, and it was even alleged that he was broadly sympathetic to the rioters.

In 1781 Kennett was convicted of criminal negligence for his conduct during the Riots and fined £1,000.

These lines were later written about him:

"When Rome was burning, poets all agree
Nero sat playing on his tweedle-dee;
So Kennett, when he saw sedition ripe,
And London burning, calmly smoked his pipe."

Also in Chapter 61 after receiving no help from the Lord Mayor, Lord Haredale continues on to the magistrate's dwelling. The magistrate at the time was Sir John Fielding, I looked him up too:

Sir John Fielding, (born 1721, London, Eng.—died Sept. 4, 1780, London), English police magistrate and the younger half brother of novelist Henry Fielding, noted for his efforts toward the suppression of professional crime and the establishment of reforms in London’s administration of criminal justice.

John Fielding was blinded in an accident at the age of 19. Despite this handicap he was appointed a magistrate in London, at first as his brother’s assistant, about 1750, and soon became locally famous as the “Blind Beak,” who was reputedly able to recognize some 3,000 thieves by their voices. With his brother he was a founder of the Bow Street Runners, and he persuaded the government to contribute to the expenses of his small force of professional detectives. He also provided for the circulation among the police and the public of descriptions of offenders.

A pioneer in the treatment of juvenile offenders, Fielding sought to analyze and remove the causes of crime and advocated a system of stipendiary magistrates that was adopted in 1792. He was knighted in 1761.

The conversation between Stagg and Rudge is intriguing. However, in the second page of the chapter 62, I’m finding it difficult to fathom who Rudge is talking about when he says “Might I? Between that man and me, was one who lead him on – I saw it, though he did not – and raised above his head a bloody hand.” Can anyone help me out? I’m confused. I’m thinking “that man and me” is Rudge and Haredale? So who was the “one who lead him on?”

After reading chapter 63, I ask myself, can we judge the strength of character of a man in his time of despair? Specifically, I’m talking about Willett and Varden. Look at the gibbering mess than Willett turns into when the rioters turn up at the Maypole. Varden has a lot more to lose - they’ve got his daughter – yet he shows an unprecedented strength of courage and defiance when they first turn up at The Golden Key.

I’m pretty sure I wasn’t alone, wanting to have Miggs strung up. If she and Hugh get away scott free at the end of this, I think she’ll get the punishment she deserves being with him. Although, I wonder if she’ll still be besotted with Sim when she finds out he’s practically married her off to Hugh.

Kate

Yes. Three cheers for Varden. If only there were more people like him.

I found in Ch 63 a rather chilling comment from Dickens concerning the riots. "The crowd was the law and never was the law held in greater dread, or more implicitly obeyed." It seems that even today, as we watch the nightly news on TV, that these words ring as clear and loud as they did when Dickens wrote them.

Gabriel Varden is willing to confront the crowd. In this chapter Dickens personalizes and puts a face to the London city dwellers and the boiling mob that ran through the streets. In chapter 64 Varden still refuses to unlock the door to the prison. Regardless of his apparent "softness" in his home environment, Varden shows the pluck, pride and sense of what is right in these chapters. There is a cliché that states you will only discover the true nature of a person in a crisis. Now, with these chapters revealed are more reasons why it is Gabriel Varden I would like to have a drink with in a pub. (with Kim too, of course ;>).

Hi Kate,

I think that there was not literally anybody leading Mr. Haredale on but that Rudge was a victim of his guilty conscience, which makes him feel haunted by the image of Reuben Haredale, the first of his two victims. He says that the ghost of his victim has been a ghastly companion to him for most of the time that has elapsed since the murders took place, even though no-one but Rudge himself is able to see the image of the dead man. I would also interpret this passage in the same light, i.e. to the guilt-ridden Rudge it seems that Mr. Haredale is led on by his dead brother (even though Haredale does not even seem to notice). So the ghost of Reuben Haredale acts as a kind of nemesis in Rudge's perception.

Kim wrote: "Also in Chapter 61 after receiving no help from the Lord Mayor, Lord Haredale continues on to the magistrate's dwelling. The magistrate at the time was Sir John Fielding, I looked him up too:

Sir..."
Kim

As always, your additions enrich my reading experience.

Thanks.

Yes, Kim, I can only, once again, say thank you for the additional information! Especially the information on Henry Fielding's brother is very intriguing. So if I get it right, then Henry Fielding himself had a hand in establishing the Bow Street Runners with his brother John?

Tristram wrote: "Yes, Kim, I can only, once again, say thank you for the additional information! Especially the information on Henry Fielding's brother is very intriguing. So if I get it right, then Henry Fielding ..."

Yes, it looks like Henry Fielding was the founder of the Bow Street Runners with John first as his assistant and later taking his place:


The Bow Street Runners have been called London's first professional police force. The force was founded in 1749 by the author Henry Fielding and originally numbered just six. Bow Street runners was the public's nickname for these officers, "although the officers never referred to themselves as runners, considering the term to be derogatory". The Bow Street group was disbanded in 1839. Similar to the unofficial 'thief-takers' (men who would solve petty crime for a fee), they represented a formalisation and regularisation of existing policing methods. What made them different from the thief-takers was their formal attachment to the Bow Street magistrates' office, and that they were paid by the magistrate with funds from central government. They worked out of Fielding's office and court at No. 4 Bow Street, and did not patrol but served writs and arrested offenders on the authority of the magistrates, travelling nationwide to apprehend criminals. Fielding's consistent anti-Jacobitism and support for the Church of England led to him being rewarded with the position of London's Chief Magistrate, and his literary career went from strength to strength. Appointed Henry's personal assistant in 1750, John helped him to root out corruption and improve the competence of those engaged in administering justice in London.

According to the historian G. M. Trevelyan, they (Henry and John) were two of the best magistrates in eighteenth-century London, and did a great deal to enhance the cause of judicial reform and improve prison conditions. Fielding's influential pamphlets and enquiries included a proposal for the abolition of public hangings. This did not, however, imply opposition to capital punishment as such—as evident, for example, in his presiding in 1751 over the trial of the notorious criminal James Field, finding him guilty in a robbery and sentencing him to hang.

Tristram wrote: "Hi Kate,

I think that there was not literally anybody leading Mr. Haredale on but that Rudge was a victim of his guilty conscience, which makes him feel haunted by the image of Reuben Haredale, th..."

I too think it was Rudge's guilty conscience making him feel haunted, but it would be fun if it would have been a real ghost. I debated for awhile why he isn't being haunted by two ghosts, Reuben Haredale and the gardener, but it appears only one of the men he killed seems to be bothering him.

Kim wrote: "In Chapter 61 Lord Haredale arrives at the Mansion House with his prisioner , it is the house of the chief magistrate of the city. He is called the Lord Mayer throughout this section so I looked th..."

Nice find on Kennett.

I do wonder how accurate Dicken's reporting of the riots is, and how much is dramatic license.

Even Everyman should be slightly impressed by Gabriel Varden after these last chapters. My opinion went of him went up just because he locked Miggs in the attic. The only thing that would have made that better is if he would have locked her out of the house. One thing I wondered about, it seemed to me that Mrs. Varden and Miggs couldn't be apart from each other, they needed each other to support their warped view of the world. Then how did Varden get his wife out of the house without Miggs? He says in chapter 63,

'You have robbed me of my daughter,' said the locksmith, 'who is far dearer to me than my life; and you may take my life, if you will. I bless God that I have been enabled to keep my wife free of this scene; and that He has made me a man who will not ask mercy at such hands as yours.'

So I wonder why he took her away and not Miggs also I wonder where she is.

Ah good old Varden! He certainly is a man of principle. Even when handed an 'out' when Mr Akerman says, "Stay - stay!" said the jailer, hastily. "Mr Varden, I know you for a worthy man, and one who would do no unlawful act except upon compulsion - "

Thanks Kim for the insights. Incredible story of the Fielding brothers and, of course, Kennet.

I mean Kennett. According to a note in my version, the Privy Council questioned him when the Riots were over and found he had acted with 'great timidity in the whole affair'. He was found guilty of criminal negligence and fined £1000.

Oops sorry Kim, you had mentioned Kennett's £1000 fine. I noticed the little poem this time; interesting juxtaposition of Nero and Kennett!