The Old House of West Street; or, London in the last century. A romantic tale

Preface

. After an unprecedented career of two years, we have at length brought the annals of "The Old House or "VVest stbeet " to a conclusion ; and, in doing so, the Author feels con strained, for the hundreth time, to express to his patrons his due sense of their kindness and encouragement. Every vestige of this notorious haunt of vice, which for more than two hundred years was allowed to pollute the metropolis, is now swept away, thanks to the improvements in the metropolis, which have progressed so rapidly of late, more especially in the locality in which the Old House recently reared its pestiferous head ; but it will be many years ere the crimes perpetrated in that den of infamy will be forgotten. Most of the incidents recorded in these pages actually occurred, and have been culled by the Author from unquestionable documents, purchased at a great outlay, and the exclusive pro perty of the enterprising proprietor, Mr. Lloyd ; of which the Author has endeavoured to make the best use, by adding to them all the attractions of romance ; and, while delineating vice

PREFACE.

. in all its hideous deformity, to inculcate such sound moral precepts, of which even the most fastidious cynic must approve. That he has not failed in his wishes has been satisfactorily proved by the unequalled popularity, and the immense circulation the work has enjoyed from its commencement. The Author feels himself inadequate to the task of express ing his warm sense of gratitude for this flattering mark of public esteem; but he trusts that his future literary labours will convince his readers that he has determined to return the obligation as far as his humble talents will permit him to do. In conclusion, the Author respectfully invites the patronage of his friends to a new domestic Romance, which he has had for some time in preparation, and which will be immediately pub lished, under the title of "Eveline; or, the Maid of the Bleeding Heart."

London, August, 1846. At the moment that the vivid lishtnizur'a fl-issh s.i-„_,t .t,_ „_.„j - v , r. them in its lurid glare, they beheld'a fo.m° iSl ££&£ 2 depTc^ OE WEST STREET ; OK, Itonison tn tfje Hast ©Mturg. AN ORIGINAL ROMANCE, BY THE AUTHOR OF " ELA, THE OUTCAST," &c. " Mercy to you, who have robbed me os a son? who have brought disgrace upon my name, and dutroyed all my hopes? Never, never ? Seek the gallows tree to-morrow, and as you view the last dying agonies of your unhappy victim, when you behold his blackened and stiffened corpse swing ing in the air, amidst the scoffs and exultations of a gaping multitude, ask for mercy there, hut not ef a broken hearted father. Begone, leave my presence ; your sight is loathsome to me." A groan of the most bitter agony burst from the Ips of the young man who had first spoken; he covered his face with his hands, his broad chest heaved convulsively; every well-formed and muscular limb quailed beneath the thrilling effect of his companion's words ; his brain whirled round ; he made an effort as if he would have quitted the room, but, staggering to a seat, ho sank upon it, and sobbed like a child.

They were moments such as he had never before experienced ; a kind of waking dream threw a mist over his senses, and, for a short interval, dis solved him in a trance of thought. EPOCH THE FIRST.

Chapter I. The Doomed One

— THE LOVERS. — MOMENTS OF AOONY. — THE EXECUTION. — THE PAR DON. FEARFUL RESULT. But a ahort time since, that young man was all gaiety, hope, and happiness ; a bright prospeet »f felicity was spreal before him, the sun ever shone with brilliancy upon his path, and the smiles of beauty and innocence awakened his soul with joy. Alas ! what a dreadful change had, in so short a space of time, come over him ; Heaven seemed to have entirely deserted him, and to doom him to future misery and despair; and yet, how little could his conscience accuse him of having deserved this wretched destiny; and "By all your hopes of mercy In that world of spirits where happiness alone is known, in the name of those fond parents now no more; by all that human nature, conscious of rectitude, can invoke; oh, spare me, spare me! mercy, if not for me, for the love theu bearest thy fair daughter, in whose heart mine image is so enshrined that nothing can ever displace it.

Oh, m«cy, mercy P , _ No. ing towards him. " Curse me not, for God knows the agony I already endure is almoBt too much for human nature to support. Oh, I could weep tears of blood, suffer anything to make atonement for that 1 have been the innocent cause of in flicting." nothing could exceed the agony he endured at having been the innocent cause of inflicting what he feared must prove a fatal blow upon the happiness of the aged man, his companion. Not a feature of that young man, but in so brief a space of time hal bowed under the keen scythe of misfortune ; and, in the course even of a few hours only, partook the scmbre hue of prema ture age. But not for him alone was his anguish excited, but for tile lovely Helena, to whom he was betiothed, but whom he now seared was lost to hin. for ever.

Most awful and most extra o.dinary were the events which had brought about this change, but which will be explained as we proceed " Can you snatch your unhappy victim from the gallows?" hoarsely demanded Mr, Masterton, gazing with the most bitter looks upon the kneel ing Aubrey ; "can you obtain his pardon, and restore him again to a wretched father's arms?" "Alas! no," groaned Aubrey; "would that I could ; no sacrifice I might have to make in accomplishing such a task would I consider too great, even though it were life itself." " Begone 1" exclaimed the unhappy Mr. Mas terton, "begone ! and let my sight no more be blasted by your presence ; irom this moment Aubrey Gaveston is a stranger to all but my hatred and disgust. Away 1" Aubrey Gaves.ou continued in the same state of torpid ck'pair for some time, but his sobs were painful to hear.

Mr. Masterton had struck his forehead in the bitterness of his agony, and traversed the apartment, for a lev moments, in a state _f mind tbat no language can describe. " Nay," returned the stiU kneeling young man ; " I cannot, will not leave you thus- Be not un just ia your reproaches; have I not innocently been the cause of this fearful event? Need I repeat that I knew not your unhappy son, who had been for years away from your peaceful and virtuous home, you knew uot whither ? Wretched man, he has to blame hia own guilt for all that has happened. What are the brief particulars of this tragic story? Oh, need I remind you of them? I was attacked by a highwayman, disguised, robbed, and otherwise maltreated ; at the moment he was about to effect his escape (would to Heaven he had succeeded !) some travellers arrived at the spot and secured him.

He was brought to trial, and it was not till then that it was discovered he was your son. The law com pelled me to prosecute, and " " You convicted him;" added Mr. Masterton, with a look of the utmost bitterness; "Aubrey Gaveston was the means of dooming to the gal lows the brother of that fair girl to whom he was the betrothed husband ; the son of that man who had ever behaved to him with the affectionate kindness of a father." At length lie paused, and fixed his looks full upon the wretched Aubrey. An air, scarcely to be expressed, diffused itself over I. is features ; it was sjmething resigned, yet rather as if resignation had b_en the fruits of despair ; it was so bitter, yet so mournful — so jeproacbful, yet so submissive; in short, it possessed all the hope lessness of resignation, with all the madness of despair.

Again he clasped his burning temples, and then, ia accents that were powerful enough to penetrate the most insensible soul, he ejacu lated,— " God of Heaven ! how have I deserved this fearful blow, one that has struck me to the heart, and must ever afterwards attach disgrace and opprobrium to the hitherto unsullied name of Masterton? My poor boy, — my wretched, but guilty son, you, who for so many years I have not beheld, who abandoned your fond father, why did you not perish in your infancy, ere guilt was known to you, rather than be brought to such a dreadful fate as that you are doomed to suffer to morrow? Horror! can this be real? or, is it only some torturing delusion which has taken posses sion of my faculties? My son, my only boy, die the death of a dog upon the gallows tree, amid the execrations of a vulgar throng ! — that boy, of whom, in his childhood's days, I formed such bright anticipations !

Oh, Heaven 1 the thought will drive me to madness. Spirit of my beloveo) wife, methinks I see you gazing with anguish and sorrow u^on me, and pointing to that fatal gallows, from whence will be dated my future disgrace. Break, break, my heart, but let me not live to meet this terrible doom." "Almighty God !?* exelajmed the distracted young man, " what was I to do ? I had no alternative." "No alternative!" repeated Mr. Masterton. " By Heaven ! I would have suffered death my self sooner than my tongue should have spoken one word to condemn the unfortunate being with whom I was so closely connected, to a shameful end. .But why do 1 stand to converse with the murderer of my son? Leave me alone to the deep, dark misery of my own thoughts. -Leave me, I say; let me no more behold you; but en deavour to forget that such a being aa Aubrey Gaveston exists."

With a convulsive burst of grief, the old man threw himself upon a seat, and for some moments the sufferings he endured were quite lamentable to behold. At length, he once more started to his feet, and, in delirious accents, he exclaimed, — " la there no hope ? — none at ail 1 Are the fates of mercy closed to him for ever ? Must he die the death of a felon . Yes — yes, it is too true ; hidoom ia sealed, — Eustace Masterton swings on Tyburn tree to-morrow, to which dreadful end ha has been brought by the man I had chosen for my daughter's hnebi.id. Ob, curses " "Oh, no— no! Mercy! mercy! Here on my knees I implore you!" supplicated the wretched Aubrey. " Surely the sufferings I now endure ■ " " Your sufferings ["interrupted Mr. Masterton, with a wild and almost unearthly laugh of scorn — " your sufferings !

What, then, must be the pangs which rend a parent's heart, iu this dreadful situation ? Even though guilt had tarnished h's same, and he had abandoned that pan-nt whi had ever behaved to him with so much affection, "Forbear! for the love of Heaven, forbear !" oried Aubrey, once areus'ng himself, and apptoach- LONDON IN THE LAST CENTURY. 3 think you I coald forget he was still my child, the son of her, the wife of my heart, whose imma culate soul now dwells with its kindred spirits on high? Think you I could banish from roy me mory the time when he was a happy, innocent boy, sporting over the green and sunny fields with his little sister, in joe un . gladness ; and kindling in my mind bright and blissful anticipations of the future ? Oh, God ! how cruelly have those hopes been blighted, and by you — yes, you.

Had you struck a knife to his heart, I could sooner have forgiven you, than for having brought him to this death of horror and shame." my everlasting and heaviest curse should descend upon her head. Think you, Helena, Masterton will ever accept the hand which is stained by her brother's blood?" Aubrey sighed heavily; but the anguish of his feelings choked his utterance. "Aubrey Gaveston," resumed Mr. Masterton, after a pause, " once more I command you to depart, or if you any longer obstinately refuse, I will summon my servants to eject you. I must be alone, that I may invoke the projection of the Most High, for to-morrow's dreadful day of trial." " I go, sir," answered Aubrey, with forced calmness; "but sleep shall not light upon my pillow this night, until I have fulfilled my pro mise. Heaven grant me success, and then, what ever may be my own fate, I will endeavour to become resigned to it.

Farewell, till we meet again." " What can I say?" groaned Aubrey. " Oh, truly am I a wretched — wretched being!" " Ay," returned the distracted father, " and may you remain so, for you have made me and her you did pretend to love wretched for ever. Think of to-morrow. Go witness the dying ago nies of your victim, and then exult in the fatal end you have accomplished." Mr. Masterton returned no answer, and Au brey Gaveston was moving towards the door, when a loud shriek was heard ; the door of an ante-room was suddenly burst open, and Helena Masterton staggered forward, and sunk in the arms ofher lover. " By Heavens, Eustace shall not die ; I will use every effort to save him, even at the hazard of my very life. It may not yet be too late ; I •will save him! — I will save him ! ' " You save him !" answered Mr. Masterton, ■with an expression of countenance in which de spair and sarcasm were mingled; "away! you do but mock me in the anguish of my tortured soul."

Beauteous as the most glowing imagination could depict, was that gentle maiden ; but the roses were now banished from her cheeks — a death-like paleness overspread her countenance, aud heart-breaking sorrow dimmed the lustre of her eyes. Aubrey clasped her delicate and graceful form with frantic energy to his heart, and fervently did he ki.s her now pa^e lips ; bat at that moment his heart was too full to allow him to speak, and his looks alone could reveal the feelings that were passing in his mind. "No, no, no!" hastily ejaculated Ihe young man; " oh, how ungenerous is this; what a monster do you paint me. I will seek the royal presence this very night, and on my knees im plore for mercy for your unfortunate son. I now remember that my late fa her once rendered the sovereign an important service, for which he was promised whatever boon he might at any future period require.

Curing hia lifetime he had no occasion to seek the favour he was authorised to command ; but now I " " Aubrey, dear Aubrey," exclaimed the damsel at last; "oh! it is not thus we must part. My father " " Away, mad girl 1" interrupted Mr. Masterton, .seizing her arm with a violence she had never before experienced from him; "can you clasp to your heart the murderer of your brother ?" " 'Tis madness," interrupted Mr. Masterton; " my very soul sickens while I talk to you; again I command you to begone, and no longer torture me by your hated presence. H nceforth Aubrey Gaveston must never dare to cross the threshold of the man he has so greatly injured." "My unfortunate brother's murderer !" cried Helena ; "oh, no, no. Aubrey is not to blame. Much as my soul is appalled by the awful fate to which t_.e wretched Eustace has brought him self, fully do I acquit Aubrey Gaveston of the charge of shedding his blood.

Was he not at tacked, robbed? and dreadfully painful, as I know it must have been to his teelings, what could he do to save him from his fate more than appeal to the mercy of the judge and jury who tried him? Oh, Aubrey, much as my soul shrinks with horror at the awful calamity that has fallen upon us, still as bitterly do I feel for the sufferings you must be enduring." " But hear me ; in pity, hear me." " No more; your words are drops of poison to my soul. If you remain here any longer I shall be compelled to resort to violence to remove you." "And is it, indeed, come to this?" said the unfortunate Aubrey, with a look of despair; " but surely you cannot mean what you say?" Mr. Masterton stamped his foot passionately, and pointed to the door. " But Helena, my beloved Helena!" said the youDg man; " oh, may i not be peimitted one word at parting from h8r who " " Audacious 1" exclaimed Mr. Masterton, " and "Girl," cried the distracted Mr. Masterton ; " and can you plead for him through whose means your brother to-morrow perishes by the hangman's hands?

Wretched parent, then are you, indeed, accursed!" "Oh, no, no," ejaculated Helena, turning an affectionate look upon her father, hut still cling ing to Aubrey ; " say not so. Do not your poor and deeply afflicted Helena such an injustice. She is still your own fond child, and will do aU in her power to console and comfort you under the se vere troubles with which it has pleased Heaven could you again dare to encounter the innocent glances of her whose brother you have brought to an ignominious end? You behold her no more." ** No more ! oh, say not so," returned Aubrey ; " I know that her gentle spirit will forgive me for that I could not avoid." " Forgive you !" repeated Mr. Masterton ; " by all my soul's hopes, if I thought she would do so, "and may every sink deep in your soul. Should you at any time dare to break these in junctions, and clandestinely become the wife of Aubrey Gaveston, may the vengeance of Heaven evermore pursue your path, and cast a wither ing blight upon all your prospects ; may every misfortune which can attend erring mankind be your portion, and descend to your offspring, and the ignominious death of your brother never be banished from your memory, but load your name with infamy and detestation !"

"Horror! horror! Father, father," shrieked the damsel, sinking on her knees at his feet, and clasping her hands, with an expression of emotion which no language can adequately describe; '• oh, in mercy recall your dreadful words. My soul shrinks with horror when I reflect upon them. I am still your child — your poor Helena, whose whole thoughts have ever been devoted towards making you happy; do not then thus cast me to visit you. Every hour — every moment of her existence shall be devoted to that purpose; and if she can but so. the your broken spirits to calm ness and resignation — if tbe can only obliterate one of the dark pages of the past — she will be more than doubly repaid." "False! — 'tis false!" returned the old man. " I can never — will never believe you while you remain clasped In the arms of that man whom I now hate — whom I must evermore think of with feelings of horror and disgust."

" Dear father," sobbed the maiden, "you can not mean what you say ; you do but give vent to the present anguish of your feelings; and when time shall have ameliorated the poignant anguish of your soul, you will, I am certain, acquit Aubrey, as I now do, of all blame. Come — come, my dear father, let us banish these dreadful thoughts from our minds, and join in prayers to Heaven for " " Hold! heartless and disobedient girl," inter rupted Mr. Masterton; "your words sound as tho hissing of Eerpents in mine ears. Away fiom the embraces of Aubrey Gaveston, lest I invoke a dreadful curse upon your head." rom you." "Swear, then," exclaimed her father, "swear that from this hour you abandon Aubrey Gaveston for ever !" " No, no, no," exclaimed Helena, clasping his knees, and fixing her tearful eyes upon his coun tenance with a look which it was quite pitiatlo to behold ; " do not, oh, do not, I beseech you, extort from me an oath so repugnant to my feel ings, and which I can never take."

" Father, dear father," sobbed Helena, still clinging to her lover. " Mr. Masterton," said Aubrey, '' whatever be the fate to wnich you may consign me, I will endeavour to submit to it with patience aud for titude, for my conscience acquits me of all blame ; Aubrey Gaveston has never yet tarnished his name by one act of dishonour; but, if not for me, I implore your me cy for this poor girl ; do not, by rash and hasty conduct, do that which you may ever afterwards, when too late, eo bit terly repent." " Away, then," said the unfortunate gentle man; "away, disobedient girl; till you have complied with my commands, you are no child of mine." As he thus spoke, he cast her from him ; she sunk insensible on the floor, and fixing upon Aubrey a lock of hatred and horror, he darted from the room, groaning bitterly.

" Helen.," said Mr. Masterton, with an air of settled determination, " obey my commands ; quit the embraces of Aubrey, and swear to banish him from your memory for ever, or dreadful will be the consequences of yeur disobedience." For a few moments after he was gone, Aubrey was so overcome by the power of bis emotions, that he could not move from the spot on which + e was standing, but remained in a confusion of thought that was almost beyond human endurance. At length he raised the insensible form of Helena in his arms, and frantically kissing her pale lips, he ejaculated, — " Oh, my father," replied Helena, _n a voice almcst choked with the intense agony ofher feelings, " command me to do anything else, and I will cheerfully comply; but Aubrey, who has ever been my comparion for so many years, the son of your dearest friends, who rendered you such importa.it services before kind fortune had so bounteou.ly lavished her gifts upon you; Aubrey, who has ever been so kind, so honour able, so guod and generous, whose vows you always sanctioned, and promised that no other should become my husband — oh, I can never cease to remember him but with love."

" Oh, this indeed is an affliction I rever thought to experience ; where are now the bright scenes of felicity I pictured to myself? — gone, gone for ever. Unfortunate Eustace, would that I had never met you, or that death had been my fate ere such an event could have taken place. What awlul misery has it brought upon those I love. But I will not yet despair; no, I will make one last, one desperate effort to save him, and to rescue Helena and her father from the horrors which his untimely end would inflict upon them. The evening advances, and if I do not depart immediately, I shall be too late to reach the palace. Oh, Heaven, aid mem my designs! Would that she would recover; poor girl, how pale are now those once rrseate cheeks, once so jocund with the smiles of happiness and content. Bless you, bless you, my Helena, and eh, may that Almighty God, who watches over purity and vir tue, give you fortitude to support this terrible trial, and restore you and your father to serenity and happine.s. Hark! 'tis six o'clock; each stroke of the clock strikes upon my heart with a leaden weight, aud sounds like the death-knell "Ah! is it so?" cried Mr. Masterton, whom intense grief had driven to a Btate of madness, at the same time, he once more grasped her arm with even greater violence than before ; " then, li.ten to me, and hear wbat will be the consequences of your disobedience, should you again attempt to behold Aubrey Gaveston; should you speak of him, or breathe his name, from that moment I discard you from my bosom for ever, and invoke a dreadful curse upon your head."

" Father, father," ejaculated the deeply-agitated damsel; " oh, forbear ! forbear 1 You know not what you say; — grief has blinded your reason, and " " Nay, hear me out," continued the old man ; LONDON IN THE LAST CENTURY. 5 to my hopes. I shall never be able to get ad mittance to the palace to-night. Helena, dear Helena, ob, open but your eyes, let me but once more hear the tones of your voice, and then I will away on my momentous erraad." He resigned the insensible damsel to the care of the female, and quitting the house of Mr. Mas* terton, was soon on his way, with the speed of lightning, to the palace. His brain was confused; the light in the different shops dazzled his eyes; but still hope urged him on, and he stew rather than ran through the different streets that con ducted to the place of his destination.

He had never once taken time to consider the hopelessness and improbability of the success of his errand at that time of the evening. Helena and her father were all he thought of, and the certainty that but a few short hours must seal the doom of the wretched Eustace, unless there was some powerful interposition to save him. He reached the palace gatea, and there despair awaited him. He was refused admittance, and was turned away with derision and insult. ,^ Again he pressed the insensible form of Helena to his bosom, and looked into her pale counte nance with an intensity of seeling that nothing oould surpass. At that moment the room door opened, and a female and two men-servants entered. One of the latter respectfully informed him that their master had commanded them to see that he quitted the house without a moment's delay, and that the female would take charge of Helena.

Aubrey breathed a deep sigh, and, once more kissing the ashy lips of her he so fondly loved, he exclaimed, — " Bless you — bless you, dear, but unfortunate girl I Now let me away, and Heaven assist me in my designs 1" He clasped his burning temples with agony, and could with difficulty prevent himself from ing, and little might it have been imagined that it was to be devoted to so fearful a tragedy; and, sinking to the earth. He turned away into the darkness and gloom which was now presented to his imagination, and knew not how to act. Could he return home, in this horrible state of suspense, and with such torturing thoughts occupying hi3 mind . No; that he felt to be impossible. The execution, he had been given to under stand, would not take place until twelve o'clock on ihe following day, and there might yet be time to save the unhappy man. and, as the humble artisan, whistling carelessly, bent his steps towards the place of his daily employ ment, he thought not of the sorrowing hearts that had worn through the gloomy hours of the night, while slumber had rested on his own weary eje lids But greater at that period than even now, was the morbid taste which prevailed amoogst all classes of society, for witnessing the execution of an unfortunate fellow creature, and at an early hour might be seen hundred of persons of both sex»s and of all stations in society, wending their way, with eager haste, along the different streets that led to Newgate, and the place where the un happy criminal was doomed to und.rgo the dreadful sentence of tbe la*.

The case had excited more than usual interest, from the respectability of the connections of Ihe wretched Eustace, and the greatest endeavours had been m3de to save Long and dreary as were the hours, he deter mined to wander about till daylight ; and wrap ping his cloak around him, sauntered through the din-rent streets in the immediate vicinity of the palace, unconscious of all around him, so deeply was he immersed in the terrible thoughts which distracted his fevered brain. That night no roof sheltered the head of the unhappy Aubrey Gaveston. Brightly arose the sun on the following mornno doubt, took him to be mad, or some wild, harum-scarum galiant, who had taken too much wine, and was inclined to indulge in a frolic at the risk of his neck. It was Aubrey Gaveston, who thus, filled with hope and fear, hurried along towards the place of execution. him, but without success.

As the time advanced, so the numbers increased, and at length the different avenues became complete dense masses of human beings, some shouting and indulging in, ribald jests, as if the morning was devoted 10 some great national holiday, instead of the awful scene which was to take place. And now the bell of St. Sepulchre sent forth its dismal death knell, and the mournful procession was seen moving slowly along towards the place of its destination. All eyes were fixed upon thwretched culprit, who seemed as firm as any amongst the numerous spectators. He stood upright iu the cart, his limbs trembled not, and his eyes were raised towards Heaven as if he was menially supplicating that mercy from the Most High he could not expect below. No one who gazed upon that j lacid, open, and manly countenance, could have believed him capable of being guilly of the heavy and atrocious offences that had been laid to his charge.