Chapter IV: A night in Ann street (2)

"The guilty pair were not in the slightest degree reserved in my
presence; on the contrary they jested, they talked, they indulged in
familiarities before my face, in a manner that astonished me not a
little. Comrades, none of you have seen much of fashionable life, I
take it; for although you all belong to the very best society in Ann
street, you can't reasonably be supposed to have much of an idea of
society as 'tis seen in the mansion of an English nobleman. Therefore,
if you don't think my yarn already too tedious, (it's as true as
gospel, every word of it, upon the unsullied honor of a gentleman!)
and if you'd like to know something of the capers of rich and
fashionable people in high life, I'll tell you, in as few words as
possible, some of the sayings and doings of my lady Hawley and her
handsome lover, Captain St. Clair, as witnessed by me, at the time of
which I have been speaking, in London."

Jew Mike paused to take breath and "wet his whistle;" while all his listeners eagerly requested him to "go on" with his yarn. During the progress of the narrative, an old, comical looking man, not over well dressed, had entered the room, unnoticed; and seating himself in one corner, he pulled a pipe from his pocket, lighted it, and began to smoke, at the same time taking a keen and intelligent survey of the motley assembly. Jew Mike, having quenched his thirst, resumed his story. [The reader will be good enough to observe, that while we give the substance of this worthy gentleman's narrative, we pretend not to give his precise words. It is highly probable that he adapted his language to the humble capacities of his low and illiterate auditors; and we have taken the liberty to clothe his ideas in words better suited to the more intelligent and refined understandings of our readers.]

"Well, ladies and gentlemen," said Jew Mike--"as I was saying, Lady
Hawley and Captain St. Clair got so bad that they never minded my
presence a bit, but talked and acted before me with as much freedom as
if I were both deaf and blind. My lady would dress herself in the
Captain's uniform, which fitted her to a charm, for she was a large,
magnificent woman, while he was of no great stature for a man,
although exceedingly well-made and handsome. Not was that all: the
Captain would attire himself in her splendid garments, and, but for
his moustache and imperial, might have passed for a very handsome
woman. And, to carry out the idea still further, my lady would pretend
to take very wild and improper liberties with her lover, which he
would affect to resent with all the indignation proper to his assumed
sex. Then they would roll and tumble upon the soft carpet until they
were quite spent and breathless; after which the Captain would run
into the chamber, and conceal himself beneath, behind, or _in_ the
bed; she would follow in pursuit, close the chamber door, and--I would
apply my eye to the key-hole; but as I am a polite man, and as there
are ladies present, (ahem!) you'll excuse me for not entering into
particulars.

"So much for their actions, now for their words. I was attending them
at supper one night, and to say the truth they were both of them
highly elevated in consequence of having too profusely imbibed their
favorite wine, seasoned with the _essence of Lagrange,_ the name which
I had privately given it. The Captain was very slightly attired, and
my lady had on nothing but a very _intimate_ garment, which revealed
rather more than it concealed--for they had just before been playing
the very interesting game of "hide and seek," and had not yet resumed
all their appropriate garments. I had formerly regarded lady Hawley as
the very _beau ideal_ of all that was dignified, haughty and majestic;
but that night she looked lewd and sensual, in an eminent degree, and
appeared utterly reckless of all decency. She exposed her person in a
manner that astonished me, and seemed to abandon herself without
reserve, to all the promptings of her voluptuous nature. Her
appearance, conversation and actions were not without their influence
on me, you may be sure; and if ever I envied mortal man, it was that
young officer, who could revel at will in the arms of the beautiful
wanton at his side.

"The Captain, reclining his head upon her fair bosom, said--

"'And so Adelaide, in a few days your odious husband will return, and
terminate these rapturous blisses. Why in the devil's name don't the
accursed old man die of apoplexy, or break his neck, or get shot in a
duel, or do something to relieve us of his hated interference with our
stolen joys?'

"'Ah, St. Clair,' answered the lady, with a glance of passion--'would
that the old man were dead! Since I have tasted the sweets of your
society--since I first listened to the music of your voice, and since
first this heart beat tumultuously against yours, my whole nature is
changed--my blood is turned to fire; my religion is my love for you;
my deity is your image, and my heaven--is in your arms. Oh,' she
suddenly exclaimed, as the rich blood mantled on her face and
neck--'how terrible it is for a young and passionate woman to be
linked in marriage to an old, impotent, cold, passionless being, who
claims the name of _man_, but is not entitled to it! And then if she
solaces herself with a lover--as she must, or die--she is continually
agitated with fears of her husband's jealousy, and the dread of
discovery. Like the thirsty traveller in a barren waste, her soul
yearns for an ocean of delights--and pants and longs in vain.
Husband--would that there was no such word, no such relation as it
implies--'tis slavery, 'tis madness, to be chained for life to but one
source of love, when a thousand streams would not satiate or overflow.
Yet the world--the world--disgraces and condemns such as I am, if
discovered; it points to my withered husband, and says--'there is your
only _lawful_ love.' Heavens! the very thought of him sickens and
disgusts me; _he_ a lover! He is no more to be compared to thee, my
St. Clair, than is the withered leaf of autumn to the ripe peach or
juicy pomegranate!'

"'By all the gods of war,' exclaimed the Captain, fired with
admiration at her beauty and the fervor of her passion for him, and
straining her to his breast in a perfect phrenzy of transport--'thy
husband shall be no longer a stumbling-block between us, angel of my
soul; I will insult him--he will challenge me--we will fight--I am the
best shot in Europe, and he will be shot through the heart, if the
cold dotard have one. Yet stay--damn it, why not have him disposed of
after the manner of the valet? Ha, ha! a good thought! Simpson, what
say you? Will you do it for a couple of hundred guineas, and without
laying claim to the favors of her ladyship?'

"The last sentence was uttered with a very palpable sneer; it enraged
me, for by it I was reminded of the manner in which I had been
swindled out of the reward promised for my other murder. Besides, the
man's cool villainy, and the woman's shameless lechery, disgusted me,
bad as I was; for they belonged to that class which professes all the
gentility, refinement and virtue in the world; and to hear the one
glorying in adultery, and the other deliberately proposing murder,
afforded such a damnable instance of the sublime hypocrisy peculiar to
the "upper ten" of society, that I became desperately angry, and
answered the Captain in a manner that astonished him.--You will
remember, comrades, that as great a villain as I am, I am no
hypocrite, and was never accused of being one. And yet hypocrisy
prevails in every department of life. Look," continued Jew Mike,
getting into a philosophical strain, and stroking his enormous beard
with an air of profound complacency--"Look at that venerable looking
old gentleman, who every Sabbath stands in his pulpit to declaim
against wickedness and fleshy lusts. Mark his libidinous eye, as he
follows that painted strumpet to her filthy den. There's hypocrisy.
Then turn your eyes toward a sister city, and mark that grey-headed,
sanctimonious editor, who every week solemnly prates of honesty,
sobriety, and their kindred virtues. 'What an excellent man he is,'
exclaim the whole tribe of fat, tea-drinking old women in mob-caps,
raising their pious eyes and snuffy noses to heaven.--Ha, ha, ha! Why,
ladies and gentlemen, that editor is so cursedly dishonest and so
im--_mensely_ mean, that his hair wouldn't stay black, but turned to a
dirty white before its time--so mean, his food won't digest easy--his
shirt won't dry when washed--his clothes won't fit him--the cholera
won't have him--musquitoes won't bite him--and if, after his lean
carcass is huddled under the turf, his cunning little soul should
attempt to crawl through the key-hole of hell's gate, the devil, whose
lacky he has ever been, would kick him with as much disgust as this
_fraction_ once displayed in kicking a poor wretch whom he had
beggared, starved and ruined!

"But I see, comrades, that you begin to grow impatient at this
moralizing--and well you may, for 'tis always distasteful to look at
such reptiles as we have been contemplating. Well, to take up the
thread of my yarn, which I shall bring to a close as speedily as
possible, for 'tis getting late.--When the Captain proposed that I
should murder Lord Hawley, his and her ladyship's hypocrisy enraged me
to such an extent, that I boldly looked him in the face, and said to
him--

"'Say, who is the greater villain, you or I? You, who prate of your
birth, rank and position in life, and propose a murder, or I, making
no pretensions whatever, I that have committed a murder at the
instigation of one of your class, in the hope of reward? Look you,
Captain; neither you nor your noble strumpet at your side shall bribe
me to commit further crime. Wretches that you both are, false in honor
and in truth, know that I am already fearfully revenged upon you--and
your exposure is at hand. Another murder, indeed!--_have you not both
drank blood enough?_'

"This last sentence I uttered with such significance that the Captain
started and turned pale. 'What mean you, scoundrel?' he demanded.

"'Follow me, both of you, to the wine cellar!' I exclaimed in answer,
fully determined to reveal the awful truth to them at once. Astonished
and subdued by the impressiveness of my manner and the singularity of
my words, they obeyed. Having seized a light from the table, I led
the way to the cellar, and advanced to the cask wherein rotted the
remains of the murdered Lagrange.

"The scene must have been a striking one, comrades. There was the vast
vault, dimly lighted by a single wax taper; around were many black and
mouldering casks containing the juice of the grape, some of which was
of a great age. Before one of those casks, much larger than the
others, stood I, brandishing aloft the implement with which I was
about to break open that strange tomb, and disclose its awful secret.
Beside me, dressed in the slight garments I have already described,
their pale countenances expressive of mingled curiosity and fear,
stood Lady Hawley and Captain St. Clair, whom I thus addressed--

"'This cask, may it please your ladyship and the Captain, contains the
wine which you both are so extremely fond of. You have observed, with
some surprise, that its flavor has of late much improved. I shall now,
with your permission, show you the cause of that improvement, for
which--ha, ha, ha!--you are solely indebted to me. The opening of this
cask will disclose a mystery that you have never dreamed of. Look!'

"They both strained forward in eager expectation. A few blows sufficed
to remove the head of the cask. Horror! a sickening stench arose, and
there became visible the headless trunk of a human being. That portion
of the body which was not immersed in the wine, was putrid. 'Look
here!' cried I, in mad triumph, plunging my arm into the cask, and
drawing forth the ghastly head of Lagrange. I held aloft the horrid
trophy of my vengeance; there were the dull, staring eyes, the
distorted features, and drops of wine oozed from between the set
teeth. With a long, loud shriek, her ladyship fell to the ground
insensible; muttering fierce curses on me, the Captain turned to raise
her, and profiting by the opportunity, I escaped from the cellar and
fled from the house. Making the best of my way to the 'Jolly Thieves,'
in St. Giles, I sought safety and concealment there, where I had ample
leisure to mature my future plans.

"In a day or two I saw it announced in one of the newspapers that a
cask had been found floating in the river Thames, which on opening was
found to contain the body and head of a man, and a quantity of wine.
The circumstance gave rise to the supposition that the body had been
procured by some surgeon for dissection, and for some reason had been
abandoned and thrown overboard. The cask and its contents had, of
course, been thrown into the river through the agency of the Captain;
and the affair gave rise to neither excitement nor investigation.

"Meanwhile, Lord Hawley had returned to town. No sooner was I apprised
of the fact, than I sent him the following blunt and somewhat rude
epistle--for I felt too keen a thirst for vengeance on my enemies to
admit of my being very choice or respectful in my language, even to a
nobleman:--

"'My lord,--you are a cuckold. Do you doubt it? I can prove it,
beyond the shadow of a doubt. Captain Eugene St. Clair is your
lady's lover--she is his mistress. For a long time past, she has,
during your absence, received him into her chamber. You are laughed
at by the pretty pair, as a withered, impotent old dotard. You know
the handwriting of your late valet, Lagrange. Accompanying this is a
letter written by him, to you; before he had an opportunity of
sending it to you, he was _made away with_, through the
instrumentality of your amiable wife, who had every reason to
suppose that he would betray her. The tale trumped up by the noble
harlot about the Frenchman's having stolen your property and fled,
is a lie. My lord, I think you have reason to be grateful to me for
exposing the guilty parties; if so, any pecuniary reward which you
may see fit to send me, by one of your servants, (I am at the _Jolly
Thieves_, in St. Giles,) will be gratefully accepted by

MICHAEL SIMPSON.'

"I thus freely disclosed my place of concealment to his lordship,
because I apprehended no danger to myself, knowing that the nobleman
was a man of honor, who would not injure the person who had rendered
him such an important service as to put him on the track to avenge his
wrongs. And I also anticipated receiving a liberal reward for my
information; nor was I disappointed,--for that very evening a servant
in the Hawley livery called at the _Jolly Thieves_, and presented me
with a small package, which on opening I found to contain bank notes
to the amount of five hundred pounds, and the following note, which
though in his lordship's handwriting, bore neither address nor
signature:--

"'Here is the reward of your information. Accept, also, my thanks.
The proof you have furnished of the truth of your statement, admits
of no doubt. I know how to punish the w**e and her blackguard
paramour. You had better leave the country, for I can surmise what
agency _you_ had in the affair of Lagrange's disappearance; but as
you were the tool of others, I stoop not to molest you. Should the
event, however, gain notoriety, _the law_ of course, will not prove
equally considerate.'

"I was overjoyed! Five hundred pounds, and the certainty of having
ruined my enemies! That night I gave a sumptuous supper to all the
frequenters of the _Jolly Thieves_; and a jolly time we had of it,
I'll assure you, comrades. The most respectable men in London were
present at the feast; there were nine cracksmen, five highwaymen,
twelve pickpockets, two murderers, three gentlemen who had escaped
from transportation, and a smart sprinkling of small workmen, in the
way of _fogle hunters_, (handkerchief thieves,) and _body snatchers_,
(grave robbers). Full forty of us sat down to a smoking supper of
stewed tripe and onions,--ah, how my mouth waters to think of it now!
And then the _lush_!--gallons of ale, rivers of porter, and oceans of
grog! Every gentleman present volunteered a song; and when it came to
be my turn, I gave the following, which, (being something of a poet,)
I had myself composed, expressly for the occasion, to the air of the
_Brave Old Oak_:--

SONG OF THE JOLLY THIEF.

"A song to the thief, the jolly, jolly thief,
Who has plied his trade so long;--
May he ne'er come down to the judge's frown,
Or the cells of Newgate strong.
'Tis a noble trade, where a living's made
By an art so bold and free;
May he never be snug in a cold, stone jug,
Or swing from a two-trunk'd tree!

CHORUS
Then here's to the thief, the jolly thief
Who plies his trade so bold--
May he never see a turnkey's key,
Or sleep in a prison cold!

"This song was received with the most uproarious applause by the
jovial crew; and we separated at a late hour, after giving three
groans for the new police.

"A few days passed away. I never neglected each morning to carefully
peruse all the newspapers; and just as I was beginning to despair of
ever seeing any announcement calculated to assure me that my enemies
were overthrown, I had the intense satisfaction of reading the
following paragraph in the _Times_:--

"'AN AFFAIR OF HONOR. Yesterday morning, his lordship Viscount Hawley
and the Honorable Captain Eugene St. Clair had a hostile meeting in
the suburbs of London. Circumstances of a delicate nature, of which we
are not at liberty to speak at present, are reported to have led to
the difficulty between the noble gentlemen. At the first fire Captain
St. Clair fell, and upon examination it was found that he had been
shot through the heart. He died instantly. His lordship was uninjured,
and immediately departed for the Continent unaccompanied by her
ladyship.'

"I danced with delight when I read this paragraph. 'My vengeance is
already half accomplished,' thought I. But what had become of Lady
Hawley? The newspapers, from day to day and from week to week, were
silent with respect to her fate. At length I began to fear that her
ladyship, after all, was destined to escape uninjured by my endeavors
to effect her ruin. Was I right? You shall see.

"Nearly two years passed away, during which time, with the aid of my
five hundred pounds, I had set up a first-rate public house in a
populous and respectable neighborhood, and was making money. I have
little doubt but that the sign of '_The Red Cask_' is still remembered
in that vicinity--for that was the name which, actuated by a strange
whim, I had given to my tavern; and the same was illustrated by a huge
swinging sign in front, on which was painted the representation of a
large cask overflowing with blood--which, I need scarcely tell you,
was a sly and humorous allusion to the affair of Lagrange's
murder.--Well, one cold, stormy winter's night, when the wind was
howling like ten thousand devils around the house, I was seated in my
comfortable tap-room, making myself extremely happy over a reeking
jarum of hot rum punch. I was alone, for the hour was late, and all my
guests had departed; when suddenly, during a pause in the clatter of
the elements, I heard a low, timid knock at my outer door, which faced
on the street.--Supposing it to be either some thirsty policeman, or a
belated traveller anxious to escape from the fury of the storm, I
arose and unbarred the door; as I opened it, a fierce gust of wind
rushed in, so piercing cold, that it seemed to chill me to the very
marrow of my bones; and at the same moment I beheld a human form
crouching down under the narrow archway over the door, as if vainly
endeavoring to shield herself from the fury of the tempest. I knew it
was a woman, for I caught a glimpse at an old bonnet and tattered
shawl. She shivered with the cold, which even made my teeth chatter,
stout and rugged as I was. 'What do you want?' I demanded roughly--for
I was impatient at having been thus unseasonably interrupted while
paying my devotions to the mug of hot rum punch, in front of a rousing
fire. As she made no immediate reply, I was about to bid her begone
and shut the door, when she said, in a faint, yet earnest tone--'Oh,
sir, for God's sake, as you hope for mercy yourself hereafter, let me
come in for a moment--only a moment--that I may warm my benumbed and
freezing limbs!' I paused a moment; I am not naturally hard-hearted,
unless there is something to be gained by it; and besides, I felt a
kind of curiosity to see what sort of a creature it was who wandered
the streets that awful night, destitute and houseless; so I bade her
come in, and with difficulty she followed me into the tap-room;
placing a seat for her near the fire, I resumed my own, and while
leisurely sipping my punch, a good opportunity was afforded me to
examine her narrowly. She was probably about twenty years of age, but
much suffering had made her look older. Though her features were worn
and wasted, and though her cheeks were hollow by the pinchings of
want, she was beautiful; her eyes were large, lustrous and eminently
expressive, and two or three stray curls of luxuriant hair peeped from
beneath her old, weather stained bonnet. Her form was tall, and
graceful in its outlines; but what particularly struck me was the
singular whiteness and delicacy of her hands, which plainly indicated
that she had never been accustomed to labor of any kind. Her dress was
wretched in the extreme, and was scarce sufficient to cover her
nakedness, much less shield her from the inclemency of the
weather,--nay, my inquisitive researches soon convinced me that the
miserable gown she wore was, excepting an old shawl, her _only
garment_--no under clothing, not even stockings,--and her feet (I
noticed that they were small and symmetrical,) were only separated
from the cold sidewalk by thin and worn-out shoes.--Yet,
notwithstanding all her poverty and wretchedness, there was about her
a look of subdued pride, which, though in strange contrast with her
garb, well became her general air, and regular handsome features.
Everything about her, excepting her dress, convinced me that she had
fallen from better days, and, somehow, that look of pride struck me as
being strangely familiar; yet I racked my brain in vain to recall from
the dreamy past some image that I could identify with the female
before me, who sat in front of my blazing fire and warmed her chilled
limbs with every appearance of the most intense satisfaction.

"Her superior air commanded my involuntary respect. 'Madam,' said I,
'are you hungry?' She eagerly answered in the affirmative; I placed
provisions before her, and she ate with an appetite almost ravenous. I
then gave her some mulled wine, which seemed to revive her greatly;
and she returned me her thanks in a manner so lady-like and refined (a
manner, however, which insensibly partook of a peculiar and indirect
kind of _hauteur_, as remarkable in her tone as in the expression of
her features,) that I was more than ever satisfied that she had
descended to her present wretched situation, certainly from a
respectable, if not from a very superior, order of society.

"'You have benefitted me greatly, sir, and I thank you,' said she,
inclining her head towards me with an air almost condescending. 'I
assure you, you have not bestowed your _assistance_ (she didn't say
_charity_, observe!) upon a habitual mendicant or common person. I am
by birth a lady; you will pardon me for declining to state the causes
of my present condition. Again I thank you.'

"The devil, comrades! here was a starving, freezing beggar woman whom
I had picked out of the street, and warmed and fed, playing the
condescending, reserved lady, forsooth! and abashing and humbling me
by her d----d lofty, proud looks! Ha, ha, ha! and yet I liked it,
mightily; the joke was too good; and so I continued to 'madam' her,
until at last I actually detected her on the very point of calling me
'fellow;' but fortunately for her, she checked herself in time to
escape being turned into the street forthwith.

"And yet the superiority of her air and the haughtiness of her manner
had for me an indescribable charm, no less than her beauty; and I
resolved, if possible, to make her my mistress, for I doubted not that
when she should become nourished and strengthened by proper food and
rest, she would make a very desirable companion for a man of my
amorous temperament. However, I did not broach the subject at that
time, but contented myself with seeing that she was comfortably
provided for that night, under the charge of one of the females of the
house, to whom I gave money with which to provide the strange lady
with proper and respectable clothing in the morning. The next day I
had occasion to go away at an early hour, and did not return until
late in the afternoon, and on entering my little parlor, I was
surprised at beholding a lady, handsomely dressed, who advanced
towards me with an air of dignified politeness. Her rich hair was most
tastefully arranged; her neat dress closely fitted a slender but
elegant shape, and I was struck with the dazzling fairness and purity
of her complexion, and the patrician cast of her features. A second
glance told me it was the female whom I had relieved the previous
night; and I became aware of the fact that the strange lady was no
other than Lady Adelaide Hawley!

"She did not recognize me, for I was much changed, in consequence of
having removed the huge beard which I had worn, while in her husband's
service. You may imagine my triumph at finding the proud lady an
inmate of my house and a dependent on my bounty, under circumstances
so humiliating to her and so gratifying to me; and you may well
believe that I lost no time in giving her to understand the nature of
the reward I expected in return for my hospitality. Would you believe
it? She actually repulsed me with scorn, and began to talk of her
birth, and the superiority of her rank to mine! Her confounded pride
had now become altogether ridiculous; and somewhat enraged, I told her
who I was. She started, regarded me for a moment with a scrutinizing
look, and burst into tears, saying--'It is so, indeed! My punishment
is just; I am humbled and degraded before the very menial I despised.
Take, me, Simpson; do with me as you will; crime levels all ranks. Yet
stay; I am still feeble; delay the consummation of your triumph for
one week. During that period I shall regain the strength I have lost,
and the beauty that has faded; then shall I be a fitting partner for
your bed.' I consented; two or three days passed, and I was rejoiced
to perceive that she daily grew in strength and beauty, and was fast
regaining that voluptuousness of person which had formerly
distinguished her. She related to me, at my request, the particulars
of her downfall. She had been cast off by her husband and rejected by
her relations with scorn and curses, when the fact of her adultery
with St. Clair was discovered.--Entirely friendless and without
resources, she was compelled to place herself under the protection of
a gentleman of fashion and pleasure, who rioted on her luxuriant
charms for a brief season, until possession and excess produced
satiety, the sure forerunner of disgust--she was then thrown aside as
a worthless toy, to make room for some fresh favorite. Rendered
desperate by her situation, she became an _aristocratic courtezan_,
freely sacrificing her person to every nobleman and gentleman of rank
who chose to pay liberally for her favors. In this manner she
subsisted for a time in luxury--but at last, her patrons (as is always
the case) grew tired of her; she had become

"Like a thrice-told tale,
Vexing the dull ears of a drowsy man,"

and was again thrown upon the world without resources. Her indomitable
pride still clung to her, through all her misfortunes; and though she
plainly saw that her amours with the aristocracy were at an end
forever, she disdained to seek meaner lovers among the humbler
classes. Every offer made to her by men of medium rank, was spurned by
the proud harlot with supreme contempt. 'I am a companion for
nobility--not for the grovelling masses,' she would reply, in answer
to all such offers; nor did the pinchings of want and hunger even for
a moment shake her resolution, or disarm her prejudices. She might,
had she been disposed, have still lived in comfort and even splendor,
by becoming an inmate of some fashionable brothel; but as in such an
establishment she would be required to bestow her favors
indiscriminately on men of all ranks, who could pay for the same, she
recoiled from the idea with disgust. Thus did the pride of this
singular woman triumph over her wants and poverty; when on the very
verge of starvation, with the means of relief within her grasp, the
thought--'I am of noble birth,' would sustain her, and enable her to
resist successfully the longings of hunger and the sufferings
incidental to a homeless life. No scrupulous delicacy prevented her
from accepting any assistance, pecuniary or otherwise, that might be
offered to her; she even did not hesitate to ask for charity, in tones
of _affected_ humility; but the all-pervading principle, PRIDE OF
BIRTH, implanted within her breast, imperiously restrained her from
bestowing the favors of her patrician person upon 'vulgar plebeians;'
and, in consequence, she had sunk lower and lower in want, destitution
and misery, until driven, on that terrible winter's night, to
supplicate for a slight and temporary relief at the door of one whom
she had formerly so much despised, but on whom she was now so
dependent.

"It was a cold evening, and her ladyship and myself were seated before
a comfortable fire. An abundance of wholesome food, and every comfort
which it was in my power to procure for her, had improved her
appearance greatly. Her form had regained much of its natural
roundness, and her countenance had recovered all its original beauty.
She was gazing pensively into the fire; while I regarded _her_ with an
eye of admiration, and a heart full of amorous longings. At length I
broke the silence. 'To-morrow night, madam,' said I, 'the week for
which you stipulated, will have expired.' She sighed deeply, and
murmured, in an almost inaudible tone, 'It is so, indeed.' Noticing
the sigh which accompanied her words, a frown of displeasure gathered
on my brow; but it was almost instantly dispelled, in the delight I
felt at my approaching happiness. 'Yes,' I continued, 'to-morrow night
I shall be the happiest of men; but madam, why delay until to-morrow
night that felicity which may as well be enjoyed to-night? You can
never be more beautiful or more voluptuous than you are at this
moment.' During the utterance of these words, I had drawn my chair
close to hers, and encircled her enchanting waist with my arm; I felt
her heart throbbing wildly beneath my hand, which had invaded the
snowy regions of her swelling charms--and I took it to be the wild
throbbing of passion. We were alone--not a soul was stirring in the
house; propitious moment! How longingly I gazed upon her dewy lips,
which reminded me of the lines in Moore's _Anacreon_--which, I
suppose, is all Latin and Greek to you, comrades:--

"Her lips, so rich in blisses,
Sweet petitioners for kisses!
Pouting nest of bland persuasion,
Ripely suing Love's invasion."

And they did not long sue in vain; for such vigorous salute as I gave
them would have put even Captain St. Clair to the blush. While thus
tasting the honey of the sweetest and most luscious pair of lips in
the three kingdoms, I fancied that I felt her trembling with delight
in my arms; but too soon did I become aware that she was only
shuddering with disgust; for by a vigorous effort she struggled from
my embrace, and, breathless and panting, said--'Not now, Simpson, not
now, I entreat, I implore you! To-morrow night, the week's exemption
which I craved, will be completed,--then--then--at this hour--you
may--you will find me in my chamber; _then_, so help me God! I will
offer no resistance; but now, not now!' I surveyed her ladyship with
some surprise; her eyes sparkled like diamonds, and her face, neck and
bosom were suffused with a ruddy, glowing hue. 'As you please, madam,'
I coldly rejoined, for I was provoked at her violent and unexpected
resistance--'as you please; but remember, I am no longer to be trifled
with. To-morrow night be it, then; and see that you do not repeat this
obstinacy of conduct, for I will then accomplish my object, even if I
have to resort to force and violence!' '_I will not then resist you_,
I swear it!' said she, with much solemnity of manner, and then
added--'one favor I will ask of you: permit me to remain all day
to-morrow in my chamber, and do not even attempt to see me, until
twelve o'clock to-morrow night, at which hour you will find me waiting
for your appearance.' I agreed to this request; and she bade me
good-night in a tone almost cheerful, as she left the room to seek her
chamber.

"The next day and the next evening passed;--the midnight hour arrived.
I closed my house, and repaired to the chamber which had been
assigned to the use of my lady guest. Finding the door unlocked, I
softly entered the apartment; it was a spacious room, tolerably well
furnished, and the bed was shrouded by muslin curtains; a lighted
candle stood upon the table; glancing around I saw nobody. 'She is in
bed,' thought I, and every nerve in my body thrilled with delight at
the thought. I approached the bed, and drew aside the curtain. There
she lay--but how very still! 'She sleeps,' thought I, somewhat
surprised; and bending over in the dim light of the unsnuffed candle,
I kissed her lips--heavens! what made them so very cold--and why was
the hand which I had lasciviously laid upon her bosom, dampened with a
warm liquid? I rushed to the table, seized the candle, and returned to
the bed-side. There she lay--DEAD! The life-blood was welling from an
awful gash in her left breast; her right hand grasped a dagger--the
instrument of her death; the bed on which she lay was literally soaked
with her blood, and my hand was stained with it. Then I comprehended
her words--'_I will not then resist you!_' I staggered back,
horror-stricken; the shadow of remorse for the first time darkened my
soul; I would have wrested the dagger from her lifeless hand, and
plunged it into my own heart, but in the agonies of death she had
clutched it too firmly to admit of my easily tearing it from her
grasp. I turned from the bed, and again placed the candle upon the
table; I sat down by it, with the cold perspiration starting from
every pore. Ha! what is this? a letter, and addressed to me? I had not
observed it before. Eagerly I tore it open, and instantly recognized
the elegant handwriting of her ladyship--not a blot, not a misformed
letter marred the beautiful chirography of the missive; it was written
with the same grace and precision that had in former days
characterized her ladyship's notes of invitation to her splendid
parties. As near as I can remember, it read as follows:--

"'Death is preferable to the dishonor of your vile embraces. Were you
a man of birth, gladly would I accept the protection of your arms; but
Lady Adelaide Hawley can never become the mistress of a menial. I
welcome death, as it will preserve me from staining the purity of my
noble blood by cohabitation with such as _thou_ art. May heaven pity
and forgive me!'

"After I had read this characteristic note, I reflected deeply upon
the tragic event--her suicide. Innocent as I was of her death, might I
not be arrested as her murderer?[B] Circumstances were strong against
me; how could I prove my innocence? Many men have been hung on
circumstantial evidence less strong. Though I had escaped detection on
a murder which I had actually committed, I now feared that I should
suffer for a deed of which I was not guilty. The gallows arose before
my excited fancy, in all its terrors; my throat seemed encircled by
the fatal rope.--I determined to fly the country; instantly acting
upon this impulse, I left the chamber, and hastily collected together
all my money (which was considerable) and valuables. Then I left the
house, and seeking a safe asylum in an obscure party of the city,
remained there until an opportunity was afforded me to take ship to
America. I arrived here--soon spent all my money--was hauled up for a
murder--was convicted of manslaughter only, and did the State service
for a period of ten years in the stone institution at Charlestown;
served out my time--and here I am. Now, comrades, you have heard my
story; that it has been a long one, and a dry one, I grant--at all
events, the narration of it has made _me_ confoundedly dry. Here's a
health to jolly thieves all the world over, and confusion to honesty,
the law, and the police!"

[B] Acute and sagacious as Jew Mike was, it did not occur to him, in his trepidation and alarm, that the note which he had just read, and which was in Lady Hawley's own handwriting, would clearly exonerate him from all suspicion of his having murdered her. But guilt is sometimes singularly short-sighted, and Mike, as cunning a villain as he was, threw aside or perhaps destroyed the only evidence he could have possibly produced to substantiate his innocence.

Jew Mike did honor to his own toast in a bumper of brandy; nor were the others backward in following his example. Sow Nance, who had just awoke from a sound sleep, swore it was the most capital story she had ever heard in her life, which opinion she enforced by many oaths that we need not repeat. 'Charcoal Bill' and 'Indian Marth' were loud in their expressions of delight; and Jew Mike had the satisfaction of perceiving that he had pleased his audience, and made himself the hero of the night. A general conversation followed, which lasted until the Jew, as chairman of the meeting and Captain of the _Grabbers_, called the assembly to order, and announced that Sow Nance had the floor;--whereupon silence was restored, and that lady gave utterance to the following words, in a hoarse voice.--Her remarks were copiously interspersed with oaths, which, out of respect for the reader's feelings and our own credit, we omit:--

"Well, gals and fellers, being as how my Mike here has been a blowin'
off his gas, I might as well blow mine. You all know how I first came
to be se-duced, don't yer? It was a rich State street lawyer wot first
did it, when I was 'leven years old. Ha, ha, ha! a jolly old cock he
was, with a bald head and a face all over red pimples--he used to be
mighty fond of us girls, I tell yer. Maybe I didn't use to suck the
money out of him, by threatenin' to _blow_ on him--well, I did! Yer
all know how I had a young-'un, and how--ha, ha, ha!--the brat was
found, the next day after it was born, dead in the _Black Sea_; it
never died no nat'ral death that young-'un didn't, yer can bet yer
life; the old Cor'ner wasn't far out of the way when he said in his
werdict that the child had been strangled! The State street lawyer was
its father, I believe, tho' I can't say for certain, I had so many
partick'lar friends; for if I _ain't_ werry good-looking, I've got
winnin' ways. I came from a first-rate family, I did; my father was
hung for killing my mother--one of my brothers has also danced a horn
pipe in the air, and another is under sentence of death, off South,
for beating a woman's brains out with a fire shovel, and choking her
five children with a dishcloth. He's one of the true breed, he is. I
ain't no dishonor to my family, either; for besides that strangling
business, (mind, I didn't say _I_ did it!) I once pitched a drunken
sailor down stairs, which accidentally broke his neck, after I had
lightened his pockets of what small change he had about him.--To tell
the honest truth, I'm rather too ugly to make much money by doing
business myself; so I've gone into the business of picking up young,
good-looking gals, coaxing them off, and getting them into the houses
of my regular customers, who pay me well, at so much a head. My best
customer is the rich Mr. Tickels, who lives in South street; many's
the young gal I've carried to him, and many's the dollar I've earned
by it. Look here--do you see this five dollar gold piece? I earned it
this morning by coaxing a gal to go with me to Mr. Tickel's house; she
was a little beauty, I tell yer, and I'll bet she won't come out of
that house the same as she went in, no how. She was a fruit gal, but
she wasn't one of us; her name, I believe was Fanny--"

"Blood and battering-rams!"

This singular exclamation was made by the comical looking old man, who had entered the "Pig Pen" unperceived, and had been seated in the corner unnoticed by any of the company. He had arisen from his seat, and stood in an attitude which betokened profound interest and great astonishment. For a moment the whole gang, male and female, regarded him with surprise and suspicion; then Jew Mike sprang forward, seized him by the throat, shook him strongly, and in a rough, fierce voice, demanded:--

"Death and the devil, old scoundrel, how came you here? Who are you?--are you a police spy--one of Marshal Threekey's gang? Speak, d----n you, before I break every bone in your accursed old carcass!"

It was a singular contrast, between the great, powerful ruffian, and the little old man--nevertheless, the latter individual (who, the reader need scarcely be told, was no other than our eccentric friend, the Corporal,) did not tamely submit to such rough treatment; extricating himself, with much agility, from the grasp of the Jew, he dealt that worthy such a quick and stinging blow in the region of his left ear, that it laid him sprawling on the floor, at the same moment exclaiming--

"Skulls and skeletons! do you take me for a child? Nay, come on again, if you are so disposed, and by the nose of Napoleon! I'll beat you to a jelly!"

It is difficult to say what might have been the fate of the gallant Corporal, had a second encounter taken place, for the Jew arose from the floor with a howl of rage, his dark face livid with passion. But, fortunately for our friend, at this crisis there stepped forward a big, brawny, double-jointed Irishman, with a fist like a shoulder of mutton; this gentleman gloried in the title of 'Cod-mouth Pat,' in humorous allusion to the peculiar formation of his 'potato trap,' an aperture in his head which might have been likened either to a cellar door or a coal scuttle.

"Och, be the powers, Misther Jew Mike," said Pat, placing himself between the Corporal and his gigantic antagonist--"be asy, and lave the owld gintlman alone; he's a brave little man intirely, and it's myself that'll fight for him. Whoop! show me the man that 'od harm my friend, and be the holy poker, and that's a good oath, I'll raise a lump on his head as big as the hill of Howth, and that's no small one!"

The good-hearted Irishman's interference saved the Corporal from a severe beating, if not from being killed outright--for the Jew dared not engage in a personal conflict with a man of Pat's resolution and strength. Yet any ordinary observer could not have failed to notice the look of deadly vengeance that gleamed in his eyes, indicating that he would not soon forget or forgive the blow he had received.

At that moment, a loud noise resembling the crash of decanters and glasses, mingled with loud oaths and yells of defiance, which sounds proceeded from the adjoining dance cellar, plainly indicated that one of those "bloody rows" for which Ann street is famous, had commenced. Such a scene was too much the element of Cod-mouth Pat for him to remain tranquil during its progress; with an unearthly yell he grasped a short, thick cudgel which he always carried, and leaving the "Pig Pen," plunged into the thickest of the fight. Many a black eye and broken head attested the vigor of his arm; but the glory of his achievements did not screen him from being borne to the watchhouse, nor did his valor prevent the magistrate in the morning from inflicting upon him a very decent fine, which drew from him the indignant remark that--"'Tis a great country, any how, where a man can't have a ginteel bit of a fight without paying for it!"

The Corporal's case again looked desperate, when Pat left the "Pig Pen," for he was then without a protector from the vengeance of Jew Mike. But the Jew did not appear inclined to assail the old man personally, though his ferocious eyes still gleamed with rage. Standing apart, he held a whispered conversation with Sow Nance, during which the Corporal could occasionally overhear the words--'spy,' 'danger,' 'police,' 'murder,' and the like. At last they seemed to arrive at some definite conclusion; for the Jew came forward, and said--

"Old fellow, whoever you are, you have heard too much of our private discourse, for our safety.--We must confine you, until such time as you may succeed in convincing us that you meant no foul play in thus intruding into our secret rendezvous."

The Corporal began to speak, but the Jew fiercely commanded him to be silent. Meanwhile, Sow Nance had procured a rope, and ere the old man was aware of her intention, she had seized and pinioned his arms with great dexterity.

"Into the _Black Hole_ with him!" shouted the Jew. The poor Corporal was hurried from the room, through a low, narrow door, along a dark, winding passage, and soon found himself in a spacious cellar, crowded with negroes, who were drinking "blue ruin" and smoking vile cigars. This resort of the "colored society" was a place of the most degraded and vicious kind, frequented by the lowest of the black population of Ann street. At that period, respectable public houses for the exclusive accommodation of the colored aristocracy, were very rare; and it is only recently that the enterprise and public spirit of Mr. William E. Ambush has established a _recherche_ and elegant Saloon in Belknap street, bearing the poetical cognomen of "_The Gazelle_." We allude to this latter place for the purpose of showing that however degraded may be the colored denizens of Ann street, and however low their resorts, there are nevertheless those of the same complexion who are elevated in their notions of propriety, and strictly exclusive in their associations.

"Hallo, here--where's Pete York?" demanded the Jew, looking around upon the sable assembly with an air of authority.

A small, very black and hideous looking negro stepped forward in answer to the name, with a grin that would not have disgraced the very devil himself.

"Dat's me, master," said he. (It may be as well to remark here, that this negro was soon afterwards sentenced to be hung for an atrocious murder, in Ann street. His sentence was, however, commuted by the Governor to imprisonment for life. He is now comfortably located in the Charlestown State Prison.)

"Well, then, you black scorpion, I wish you to take charge of this old fellow, and let him not escape, as you value your life. Keep him here safely for a day or two, and I'll reward you well for your trouble. Sooner than let him escape, _kill him_--do you hear?"

The negro _did_ hear, and perfectly comprehended, also. He replied not in words, but in expressive pantomime. Drawing a knife from his belt, he passed his finger approvingly along its glittering edge--then he drew it lightly across his own throat, in the immediate vicinity of his windpipe; by which actions he meant to intimate that should the old gentleman, with whose guardianship he had the honor to be entrusted, manifest the least inclination to "give him the slip," he, Mr. Peter York, would, in the most scientific manner, merely cut his throat from ear to ear, as a particular token of his warm personal regard. Jew Mike appeared perfectly satisfied with the assurance thus eloquently conveyed, and, accompanied by Sow Nance, left the cellar, leaving the Corporal to the tender mercies of as desperate a band of villains and cut-throats as ever prowled about in the dark alleys and underground dens of Ann street.

"Now, my good fellow," said the old gentleman, addressing the negro whose prisoner he now was--"you had better instantly unbind me, and suffer me to take my departure from this infernal trap. Give me my liberty, and I will pay you ten times the sum that your Jew friend can afford to give you for detaining me here. What say you?"

"Oh, you shut up!" responded Pete York--"you s'pose I'm going to b'lieve any such gas as dat? You look like paying more money than Jew Mike, and not a decent coat on your back! Hush up your mouf, or you'll get this knife a-twixt your ribs in less than no time."

The black ruffian, in order to convince his prisoner that he meant what he said, pressed the sharp point of his knife so closely to the Corporal's breast, that it penetrated the skin. Mr. York, having thus practically admonished his victim to preserve silence, (which the Corporal thought it best to do, under the circumstances,) called to another negro, who was indulging in deep potations at the bar, in company with his "ladye love," a wench whose personal attractions consisted of a knotty head, flat nose, and mouth of immoderate dimensions--and that she _was_ attractive to her lover, was afterwards manifested by the fact that in a fit of jealousy he murdered a rival in her affections; for which amusement he was hung in the yard of the Leverett street jail on the 25th day of May, 1849, in the presence of a very jovial party, who were highly delighted with the exhibition.

"Wash Goode," cried Mr. Peter York, addressing that gentleman with a familiar abbreviation of his patriotic Christian name--"look yeah, a moment, will you nigger?"

Mr. Washington Goode crossed the cellar, and desired to know in what way he could be serviceable to his particular friend and boon companion, Mr. Peter York. The latter gentleman explained himself in a few words.

"Jew Mike has put this old white man under my charge," said he, "for a few days, and I don't know where the h----l to keep him. What shall I do with the old son of a----?"

"Why, put him in de coal-hole, to be sure," replied the other, with a boisterous laugh at his own ingenious suggestion.

Mr. York signified his approval of this plan, and dragging the poor Corporal into the dark passage which he had traversed in going to the cellar, he seized a large iron ring, opened a trap door, and violently pushed his victim into the dark and yawning chasm. Then he shut down the trap door, securely fastened it and departed.