Pickwickian Studies | Page 2

who had lived and had
come down there on this pleasant adventure. And how well we know
every stone and corner of the place, and the tone of the place! We
might have lived there ourselves. Positively, as we walk through it, we
seem to recognise localities like old friends.

"Boz," when he came to Ipswich, was no more than a humble reporter,
on special duty, living in a homely way enough. The "White Horse"
was not likely to put itself out for him, and he criticises it in his story,
after a fashion that seems rather bold. His description is certainly
unflattering:
"In the main street, on the left-hand side of the way"--observe how
minute Boz is in his topography--"a short distance after you have
passed through the open space fronting the Town Hall, stands an Inn
known far and wide by the appellation of 'The Great White Horse,'
rendered the more conspicuous 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, or unwieldy pig--for its enormous
size. Never were there such labyrinths of uncarpeted passages, such
clusters of mouldy, badly-lighted rooms, such huge numbers of small
dens for eating or sleeping in, beneath any other roof, as are collected
between the four walls of this overgrown Tavern."
Boz cannot give the accommodation a good word, for he calls the
Pickwickian room "a large, badly furnished apartment, with a dirty
grate in which a small fire was making a wretched attempt to be
cheerful, but was fast sinking beneath the 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 hostelry could not
be more damaging. Again, Mr. Pickwick's bedroom is described as a
sort of surprise, being "a more comfortable-looking apartment that his
short experience of the accommodation of the Great White House had
led him to expect."
Now this was bad enough, but his sketch of the waiter who received the
arriving party is worse:
"A corpulent man, with a fortnight's napkin under his arm and coeval
stockings."

There is something so hostile in all this that it certainly must have come
from a sense of bad reception. As we said, the young reporter was
likely enough to have been treated with haughty contempt by the
corpulent waiter so admirably described, with his "coeval stockings."
Even the poor horse is not spared, "Rampacious" he is styled; the stone
animal that still stands over the porch. It must be said that the steed in
question is a very mild animal indeed, and far from ramping, is trotting
placidly along. "Rampacious," 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 above it, have a sort of sacred character. I confess when I saw it
for the first time I looked at it with an almost absurd reverence and
curiosity. The thing is so much in keeping, one would expect to see the
coach laden with Pickwickians drive up.
Mr. Pickwick's adventure, his losing his way in the passages, &c.,
might occur to anyone. It is an odd feeling, the staying at this old
hostelry, and, as it draws on towards midnight, seeking your room,
through endless windings, 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 down a "long dark passage." It turned
out later that Miss Witherfield's sitting-room was actually next door, so
Mr. Magnus had not far to go. These rooms were on the ground floor,
so Mr. Pickwick had to "descend" from his bedroom.
There is a tradition indeed that Mr. Pickwick's adventure with a lady
really occurred to "Boz" himself, who had lost his way in the mazes of
the passages. I have a theory that his uncomfortable night in the
passages, and the possible displeasure of the authorities, may have
jaundiced his views.

II.--Eatanswill and Ipswich

It is not "generally known" that Ipswich is introduced twice in the book:
as Eatanswill, as well asunder its own proper name. As "Boz" was
dealing with the corrupt practices at Elections, and severely ridiculing
them, he was naturally afraid of being made responsible. Further, he
had