City Crimes - or Life in New York and Boston

George Thompson

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• Publié par: showyug
• Publié le: 08 décembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 34
• Langue: English

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The Project Gutenberg EBook of City Crimes, by Greenhorn
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Title: City Crimes
or Life in New York and Boston
Author: Greenhorn
Release Date: January 7, 2009 [EBook #27732]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CITY CRIMES ***
Produced by Suzanne Shell, Linda Hamilton and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
City Crimes;
OR
LIFE IN NEW YORK AND BOSTON.
A VOLUME FOR EVERYBODY:
BEING A MIRROR OF FASHION,
A PICTURE OF POVERTY,
AND A STARTLING REVELATION
OF THE SECRET CRIMES
OF GREAT CITIES


{First published 1849}
CHAPTER I
A Young Gentleman of Wealth and Fashion—a noble resolve—
the flatterers—the Midnight Encounter—an Adventure—the
Courtezan—Temptation triumphant—how the Night was passed.
'What a happy dog I ought to be!' exclaimed Frank Sydney, as he reposed
his slippered feet upon the fender, and sipped his third glass of old Madeira,
one winter's evening in the year 18—, in the great city of New York.
Frank might well say so; for in addition to being as handsome a fellow as
one would be likely to meet in a day's walk, he possessed an ample fortune,
left him by a deceased uncle. He was an orphan; and at the age of twenty-
one, found himself surrounded by all the advantages of wealth, and at the
same time, was perfect master of his own actions. Occupying elegant
apartments at a fashionable hotel, he was free from any of those petty cares
and vexations which might have annoyed him, and he kept an establishment
of his own; while at the same time he was enabled to maintain, in his rooms, a
private table for the entertainment of himself and friends, who frequently
repaired thither, to partake of his hospitality and champagne suppers. Withsuch advantages of fortune and position, no wonder he exclaimed, as at the
beginning of our tale—'What a happy dog I ought to be!'
Pursuing the current of his thought Frank half audibly continued—
'Yes, I have everything to make me truly happy—health, youth, good looks
and wealth; and yet it seems to me that I should derive a more substantial
satisfaction from my riches were I to apply them to the good of mankind. To
benefit one's fellow creatures is the noblest and most exalted of enjoyments—
far superior to the gratification of sense. The grateful blessings of the poor
widow or orphan, relieved by my bounty, are greater music to my soul, than
the insincere plaudits of my professed friends, who gather around my hearth
to feast upon my hospitality, and yet who, were I to lose my wealth, and
become poor, would soon cut my acquaintance, and sting me by their
ingratitude. To-night I shall have a numerous party of these friends to sup with
me, and this supper shall be the last one to which I shall ever invite them.
Yes! My wealth shall be employed for a nobler object than to pamper these
false and hollow-hearted parasites. From this night, I devote my time, my
energies and my affluence to the relief of deserving poverty and the welfare of
all who need my aid with whom I may come in contact. I will go in person to
the squalid abodes of the poor—I will seek them out in the dark alleys and
obscure lanes of this mighty metropolis—I will, in the holy mission of charity,
venture into the vilest dens of sin and iniquity, fearing no danger, and
shrinking not from the duty which I have assumed.—Thus shall my wealth be
a blessing to my fellow creatures, and not merely a means of ministering to
my own selfishness.'
Noble resolve! All honor to thy good and generous heart, Frank Sydney!
Thou hast the true patent of nature's nobility, which elevates and ennobles
thee, more than a thousand vain titles or empty honors! Thou wilt keep thy
word, and become the poor man's friend—the liberal and enlightened
philanthropist—the advocate of deserving poverty, and foe to the oppressor,
who sets his heel upon the neck of his brother man.
The friends who were to sup with him, arrived, and they all sat down to a
sumptuous entertainment. Frank did the honors with his accustomed affability
and care; and flowing bumpers were drunk to his health, while the most
flattering eulogiums upon his merits and excellent qualities passed from lip to
lip. Frank had sufficient discernment to perceive that all this praise was
nothing but the ebullitions of the veriest sycophants; and he resolved at some
time to test the sincerity of their protestations of eternal friendship.
'Allow me, gentlemen,' said Mr. Archibald Slinkey, a red-faced, elderly man,
with a nose like the beak of a poll-parrot—'to propose the health of my
excellent and highly esteemed friend, Frank Sydney. Gentlemen, I am a plain
man, unused to flattery, and may be pardoned for speaking openly before the
face of our friend—for I will say it, he is the most noble hearted, enlightened,
conscientious, consistent, and superlatively good fellow I ever met in the
course of my existence.'
'So he is,' echoed Mr. Narcissus Nobbs, a middle-aged gentleman, with no
nose to speak of, but possessing a redundancy of chin and a wonderful
capacity of mouth—'so he is, Slinkey; his position—his earning—his talent—
his wealth—'
'Oh, d——n his wealth,' ejaculated Mr. Solomon Jenks, a young gentleman
who affected a charming frankness and abruptness in his speech, but who
was in reality the most specious flatterer of the entire party. Mr. Jenks rejoiced
in the following personal advantages: red hair, a blue nose, goggle eyes, andjaws of transparent thinness.
'D——n his wealth!' said Jenks—'who cares for that? Sydney's a good
fellow—a capital dog—an excellent, d——d good sort of a whole-souled devil
—but his wealth is no merit. If he lost every shilling he has in the world, why
curse me if I shouldn't like him all the better for it! I almost wish the rascal
would become penniless tomorrow, in order to afford me an opportunity of
showing him the disinterestedness of my friendship. I would divide my purse
with him, take him by the hand and say—Frank, my boy, I like you for yourself
alone, and d——n me if you are not welcome to all I have in the world—That's
how I would do it.'
'I thank you gentlemen, for your kind consideration,' said Frank; 'I trust I may
never be necessitated to apply to any of my friends, for aid in a disagreeable
emergency—but should such ever unfortunately be the case, be assured that
I shall not hesitate to avail myself of your generous assistance.'
'Bravo—capital—excellent!' responded the choir of flatterers, in full chorus,
and their glasses were again emptied in honor of their host.
It was midnight ere these worthies took their departure. When at length they
were all gone, and Frank found himself alone, he exclaimed—'Thank heaven,
I am at last rid of those miserable and servile fellows, who in my presence
load me with the most extravagant praise and adulation, while behind my
back they doubtless ridicule my supposed credulity. I have too long tolerated
them—henceforth, I discard and cast them off.'
He approached the window, and drawing aside the curtain, looked forth
into the streets. The moon was shining brightly; and its rays fell with dazzling
lustre upon the snow which covered the ground. It was a most lovely night,
altho' excessively cold; and Sydney, feeling not the least inclination to retire
to rest, said to himself:
'What is to prevent me from beginning my career of usefulness and charity
to-night? The hour is late—but misery sleeps not, and 'tis never too late to
alleviate the sufferings of distressed humanity. Yes, I will go forth, even at the
midnight hour, and perchance I may encounter some poor fellow-creature
worthy of my aid, or visit some abode of poverty where I can minister to the
comfort of its wretched inmates.'
He threw on an ample cloak, put on a fur cap and gloves, and taking his
sword-cane in his hand, left the hotel, and proceeded at a rapid pace thro' the
moon-lit and deserted streets. He entered the Park, and crossed over towards
Chatham street, wishing to penetrate into the more obscure portions of the
city, where Poverty, too often linked with Crime, finds a miserable dwelling-
place. Thus far, he had not encountered a single person; but on approaching
the rear of the City Hall, he observed the figure of a man issue from the dark
obscurity of the building, and advance directly toward him. Sydney did not
seek to avoid him, supposing him to be one of the watchmen stationed in that
vicinity, but a nearer view satisfied him that the person was no watchman but
a man clothed in rags, whose appearance betokened the extreme of human
wretchedness. He was of a large and powerful build, but seemed attenuated
by want, or disease—or perhaps, both. As he approached Sydney, his
gestures were wild and threatening: he held in his hands a large paving-
stone, which