We would, however, suggest to the present owner that the words “formerly the ‘Saracen’s Head’ “should be added to those of the Pomfret Arms Hotel on the sign now hanging so gracefully over the pavement as a guide to the Dickens pilgrim seeking the Pickwickian landmark of the town.

CHAPTER XVII

“Osborne’s,” Adelphi, and Tony Weller’s
public-house on Shooter’s Hill

There is a singular and conspicuous interest attaching to Osborne’s Hotel in the Adelphi, for the almost pathetic reason that it was in one of its rooms that Mr. Pickwick first made the momentous announcement of his intention of abandoning his nomadic life of travel and adventure and settling down in “some quiet, pretty neighbourhood in the vicinity of London, “where he had taken a house which exactly suited his fancy.  And so it may be said that within its four walls the Pickwick Club brought its activities to an end, for on Mr. Pickwick’s decision to retire from its ramifications, coupled with the fact that during his absence in the Fleet Prison it had suffered much from internal dissensions, its dissolution was imperative, and to use his own words with which he announced the fact to his friends on the occasion in question, “The Pickwick Club no longer exists.”

That was an historic pronouncement, and the room in which it was made naturally becomes a veritable landmark for Pickwickians; and a fitting mark of this distinction might well be made, by the fixing of a tablet on the walls of the historic building, which still stands practically as it was in those adventurous days.  The event which first brought Mr. Pickwick and his friends to the hotel was a domestic one; but the occasion did not pass without an awkward adventure such as always dogged the footsteps of the Pickwickians.

Mr. Pickwick had just been released from the Fleet Prison and was at Mr. Perker’s office settling little details in connexion with Messrs. Dodson and Fogg, when his old friend Wardle turned up quite unexpectedly to seek the advice of the little lawyer on the situation which had arisen by his daughter Emily’s infatuation for Mr. Snodgrass.  He had brought his daughter up from Dingley Dell and informed Mr. Pickwick that “she was at Osborne’s Hotel in the Adelphi at this moment, unless your enterprising friend has run away with her since I came out this morning.”

Mr. Perker made advice unnecessary, for he proved to both of them that they were quite delighted at the prospect.  Mr. Wardle forthwith invited them to dine with him, and he sent the fat boy to “Osborne’s” with the information that he and Mr. Pickwick would return together at five o’clock.  Arriving at the hotel the fat boy went upstairs to execute his commission.

“He walked into the sitting-room without previously knocking at the door, and so beheld a gentleman with his arm clasping his young mistress’s waist, sitting very lovingly by her side on a sofa, while Arabella and her pretty handmaid feigned to be absorbed in looking out of a window at the other end of the room.  At sight of which phenomenon the fat boy uttered an interjection, the ladies a scream, and the gentleman an oath, almost simultaneously.