Life in London. A romance

Front matter

LIFE IN LONDON. & _3oir.ancc. By HERBERT THORNLEY WITH NUMEROUS ENGRAVINGS ON WOOD. LONDON: E . D I P P L E, HOLYWELL STREET, STRAND MDCCCXLVI. noxious vapours, generating disease, and entailing misery on generations jet unborn. In it too there are palaces and mansions, whose profuse splendour, and glittering mirrors, dazzle the eye ; in it there are churches and chapels, to which tha rioh and pious resort ; in it there ue dens of infamy and shame, gin palaces, boozing kens, hells, and harems. In this land of bibles and missionaries, houseless va grants everywhere wander through the streets, with scarcely a rag of clothing, exposed to all the bitter inclemency of th/- weather ; the rioh monopolise every thing, whil* j,e poor man is put to his wit's ends, to earn '.yen an honest living. Hunger is gnawing at the entrails of a mighty population ; vice, and with it its twin sister disease, is disseminating far and wide; yet, is there not wherewith to satisfy the cravings of the one, orto check the fatal progress of the other. Assuredly she social condition of this city is a very lamentable one. It is the heart of a great nation, nevertheless, it is j

Prologue

. We are entering upon the nineteenth century. Yet, in this great Metropolis, gorgeous pomp, and hideous beggary are approximate, separated but by a wall ; in one mansion the rich man has not a wish nngratified, his coffers full of coin, his tables groan ing under every dainty, every quarter of the globe contributing to his enjoyment, and almost every breeze wafting him over wealth and prosperity. In a cellar hard by, lives the modem Lazarus. What a startling, heartrending contrast ! His career of vice, misery, penury, and starvation, all of which may be summed up in that one word, poverty ; commences with his first breath, and terminates ou% with his existence. In this city are co-existing, riches, virtue, and hap piness ; poverty, vice and misery. Ia it there are holes and corners, through which Ue pore stream of fresh air ne?er flowed, teeming with LIFli IN LONDON. going to decay, and gradually becoming corrupt and rotten. to another, whistling through the long narrow pas sages', getting in and squeezing out, at every chink and cranny, and every now and then moaning as if in remembrance of some sanguinary murder or fiendish plot, which had been enacted or concocted in that ill looking fabric.

But wherefore have we commenced this undertaking? 1 1 i a our object to lead tbe reader through the gay and attractive avenues of fashion, through the noisome mazes of vice, chicanery, and dissipation; to Introduce him to the cellar, as well as to themansion; to the alley, as well as to the abode of opulence ; to lay before him all the frauds, follies, and depravities of the Metro polis ; to present him with an ungarnished picture of " London Life;" in short, to produce acomplete reflec tion of the present state of Metropolitan society, in the higher, as well as the lower circles, in various classes, professions, trades, and localities i — may he draw wholesome inferences therefrom. At the first available opportunity, when the storm had somewhat abated, he wrapped bis cloak more closely round his shrivelled anatomy, and sallied on wards. *' I hope he will be here to-night," muttered be to himself, his teeth chattering with cold and sain.

He had reached Suii.blield, and stood opposite St Hartholemew's Hospital, when a young man, te__i fashionably attired, crossed over the road to meet Un. There was aa assumed gaiety in his bearing, that but ill contrasted with Id* haggard countenance, and bloodshot eyes ; the fresh tinge ef health had for ever fled from his cheeks, and bis whole appearance too plainly denoted the effects ef by-gone folly and past indiscretion. What a scoundrel may a man be . come, when he once consents to follow indiscretion as a guides

Chapter. I. The Jew

It was a dark stormy night in the antumn ef 1843. when a man, muffled up in a cloak, emerged from a dirty looking house, in the low neighbourhood of Shoreditch. His whole appearance, combined with a long flowing beard, betoken advanced age. After casting a furtive glance towards either side of the road, as if to assure himself that nobody was dogging his steps, he proceeded by a ciro uitous and lengthy route to Smithfleld.* " Ah, all ! Frederick, my dear, " chuckled the Jew, " you cannot for a moment conceive how glad I am that you've come my dew. It's very cold, isn't it my dear?" " itaythor so." " A naa-y, rainy, wiady night. Ar* you better off j for cash than you were** He passed through several dark alley b, and ditty courts, inhabited by the very scum of London, lt seemed as if the Metropolis bad been one vast caul dron, and having boiled over, had deposited? all ita refuse in these foul quarters.

AU the bosses hose a dilapidated, miserable appearance, and accas-onatry were so close to each other, that out of the attic windows the inhabitants could, with the greatest fa- " Devil a bit. The Baronet's involved over head and ease} so __> e»n do nothing, that's plain. If I had some money in hand now, I coaks quite make a little fortune. It's tantalising, isn't it P By Jove, I must raise the wind somehow." " Humi't yen had any answer from your unole , the cility, have shaken hands across the footway beneath. In the middle of tho pathway of these alleys, there invariably ran a narrow stream of filth and decomposed matter, generally stagnant, but now in a Btate of tnrbid commotion, from the falling rain. These receptacles must inevitably have produced malaria to a frightful oxtent, had it not been for the occasional j intervention of a friendly shower.

In such neighbourhoods as these, nature seldom fails to take upon herself what civilization and refinement omit reverend preaches, yet. my dear ?" " Oh yea Th* eM humbug wrote to tell me that as I had thought fit to cut myself out of his love, he must as a matter of principle, necessity, decorum, j and all the rest of it, cut me off from what would! have been my share of his fortune." "Like the man.' " And, moreover, that be would pray, heartily pray for me, If hedidn't think It would be wasting his breath to do it. Hal hair" The Jew gave a hoarse laugh. Cold, bit ing cold blew the wind, the storm came on with increased violence, the rain poured in torrents, tilling upon the heads of the inmates of the half ruined houses—for few were provided with a covering capable of resisting the wet, on such a night as that on which our narrative opens— till the Israelite was compelled to take shelter nnder the doorway of a building, the exterior and interior of which alike baffle description.

" Tie very eruel for a young fellow like me to ba pushed for a guinea er two with aa avaricious old devil of a raiser like you. ; got more ready and swag than he knows what to do with; it is infernally crnel ; but 1 suppose it's nothing but what we must aU come to one day or another.'* " Fortune'* wheel, my dear, t. always tambn '• said the Jew. " And you have one great consolation, that any turn it makes just now must be matesially to yous advantage." " Yes; only I should rather h^ gjvta.; ia , __ni myself." The wind howled through the apartments of the dreary pile, hurrying to and fro, from one empty room « Sraltfcfield was originally a spot when Jousts took place, out It afterwardbecame the scene of uonarallelied cruelty and of frequent ezecutloni. It Is at present used as a eattU '* In short yon want to borrow moneyof _M »" " Now you ore a jolly old brick, a trump, a perfect prince of money lenders.

That's exactly the ticket.". how various its windings ! how complicated its mazes '. At one moment success became fulluponus, dissipat ing misery and despair, with its genial rays : at another, and our fond hopes are blasted, and our fair prospects blighted, and we seem beings doomed to drain the bitterest dregs of misfortune's cup. Not so with the Jew. The cares and pleasures which alternately chequer life, were strangers to his breast. Heart he had none. With him, an inordinate thirst after gold was the ruling passion. All the better feelings of his nature had one hy one withered away, they had all shrunk and dried up before the blasting influence of avarice ; there was nought left in his breast but a dreary, desolate, inhospitable wildernees. But now a smile played around his withered lips, for he thought that he wae inveigling another victim in his snares.

The most designing and wary, not un. ' frequently slip the oftenest. But to return to our narrative. " 1 am poor, very poor," said the miser, " but on one condition I'U do it." " Name it." " Yon are next heir to Sir Richard Vyvian, when he dies." " When ht kick* the backet, yon mean. He won't be long doing «__._, Uibody Ib so rotten now, it can hardly keep Us) Ml out of hell." The miser shuddered. Any train of Ideas bearing r . formes to a future state, even if uttered hy a dbMol.te young scamp, were unpalatable to him. Per haps he thought tu should keep the Baronet com pany hereafter. " Oo on and he afive, the cold has nearly cut me ia tto." " When he dies yea get his estates, his money, in fact, Us everything." ■ " If the lawyers leave me anything, I suppose 1 shall." After his crafty looking eyes had peered into every corner of the room, he threw himself hastily on a tent bedstead, and overcome with fatigue, sank into an uneasy slumber.

" His estates s.io pretty well aU mortgaged, and ' his property Will be pounced upon by a set of Insatiate duns, whom he has thoroughly diddled. Under 1 these circumstances will you sell your chance ? If ' you will, I'll buy it of you." " You're eonfoundedly generous. I dare say you 'will, old 'un, and sell me in the bargain. Yon want to make another Esau of me, not but what I 1 should tatter like some hot porridge on such a night ' as this." The apartment In which Abednego Levi now lay had a low ceiling, ornamented with mouldings and grotesque figures of every description ; the wall was full of odd niches and corners, and of yore the house had probably been the property and residence of some wealthy citizen. At present the furniture in it was very scanty; there was an old deal table, a ricketty tent bedstead, three or sour broken old chairs, a one legged stool, which the miser had bought about ten years previous ata sale, and a dirty worm-eaten port manteau, looking for all the woild as if It had beeu saved from the deluge by the venerable patriarch Noah.

" I have made yon an offer, and can do no moro." " Well, I'm awfully short, and also have a good opportunity of multiplying what I may get. What will you give me for it ?" *' Sign me a paper, aud you shall have a couple of To the good and virtuous sleep is indeed a rest from worldly cares, but not so with the miser Abed nego. His sleep was made hideous with frightful dreams, peopled with creations of his own fancy ; countless myriads of imps hung in clusters from the ceiling, peeping from behind every nook and corner, nnd playing at bow-peep with bis tortured brain, like wanton youngsters on a summer's holiday. Then came a long — long procession, wearing the sablo uni form of the grave, pointing their long bony fingers, as if to denounce vengeance on Abednego's head ; mid this troop of grizzley skeletons, many a long forgotten victim did the miser recognise ; suddenly these phan toms of the grave set up a dismal howl, and Abed nego, with a wild cry, awoke and started to his feet. hundred immediately."

" Tush I yon must double that at least.' " 1 can do nothing of tbe kind." " Make it three hundred. Moet me half-way." •' If you take my advice, you will accept my offer. Believe me, it is good counsel." " I suppose I must." " Call on me In the course of a few days, when 1 hope to have soraped the money together." " All right." " Good night, my dear." •' Good night, Levi," was the reply, and he turned on his heel and was gone. The Jew for a moment watched the retreating figure, and then hurried off in the direction of Shore ditch. He pressed bis clammy hands on his throbbing temples, and for a moment his reason seemed to be tottering upon that awful verge., which constitutes the Sole barrier between man in a rational and an irra tional, a responsible and an irresponsible state. Here he Would meet some miserable attenuated object, the prey of disease and starvation ; there he Would pass a band of drunken revellers, going out to their nightly debauch.

As the Jew entered the house In Shoreditch, the distant bell of St. Sepulchre tolled the solemn hour of midnight. " It wae but a dream that dikcomposed me," he said at length ; but a very — very fearful one." At this critical juncture, a shrill whistle reaching hi? ear, apparently proceeding from the street beneath Hew strange Is the construction of the human heart I the window, he cautiously crept down the stairs. Free from all further apprehension, on hearing three significant kicks on the panel, he immediately opened the door, when two young boys entered. 1 "Got any swag?" asked the Jew in a brutal voice. flatfish, and pigeons — he sought admittance by per forming a species of tattoo with his knuckles on the door. It was some time before hi* summons wae answered, but at last a bolt was withdrawn ; the door partially opened, and a man, with a very re pulsive-looking physiognomy, gruffly inquired " who he was, and what he wanted ?"

Both answered in the affirmative. Here the conversation dropped till the trio had reached the first-floor, the only Inhabitable one in the house. " All right," was the reply. Upon this the door was closed, the chain with drawn, and a moment afterwards Vyvian passed throughthe passage, and entered into a room fitted up in a style remarkable for its costly extravagance. " What have you got, Neddy ? always the eldest the first, my dears." The apartment was well lit, and everything in it was intended either to dazzle or to muddle. Cham pagne and other wines, with the choicest liquorB and spirits, were gratuitously supplied by the liberal minded proprietors of the establishment : a servant attended to supply the different gentlemen as often as they required it. " Wipes." " You're a clever boy. You'll one day be an ornament to your perfession, you will," continued the ew, carefully examining the texture of the handkerchiefs produced.

" Well, and what ihave you brought me, Tibby P something good I hope, ay ?" The altar erected by these worshippers of chance was an oblong table, on each side of which wat seated a croupier, whose office it was to call the game, rake np the winnings, and perform other mechanical offices. A small tin box, denominated the " bank," was also entrusted to his charge. " A ticker." " That will do. You'll rise to be a great man, you will." " I orlbbed lt from suoh a jolly green ohap." " All the better. He will learn to be more wide .-wake another time." " You're both quite sure you're got nothing else," said the Jew, casting an inquiring, searching glance on both of them." The haggard countenances of the players, the sunken eye, the quivering Up, contrasted mournfully with the glittering heaps of gold and the numerous bank-notes.

A horrible silence prevailed throughout the apartment, broken only by curses and execra tions, notloud, but deep. Some seemed eager, others cautious; some, flushed with momentary success, madly staked their all in the vain hope of regaining what they had already lost. A few were busily en gaged in making algebraical computations, expecting to arrive at some certain conclusions known or about to be known only to themselves. Vyvian's entrance excited no attention beyond a nod from one or two of the regular frequenters of the place. After he had played a few stakes for the sake of appearance — for he was in reality in the pay of the proprietors, and belonged to that class of pellites denominated " bonnets," — he took his stand behind a gamester, young in years as in vice, who was loosing, rapidly loosing ; yet still he played on, determined if possible to stem the stienm of adversity ; but the fickle goddess was in an ungracious mood : the young man, who could before have commanded thousands, now rose from the table a ruined beggar.

"Are youP" " Yes," exolaimed the two boys In one breath, " Then you had better go to bed my dears. But stay, you can pick these handkerchiefs first. Your suppers are in the next room ; there, go along. They left the room together, taking the handker chiefs with them, and the miser was once more alone. He again slung himself on the tent bedstead, anxiously awaiting the hours of morning. He counted all the church clocks, aa they struck ; clocks whose voices iu the day-time were drowned in the noisy tumult of the metropolis. With the first blush of morn — for even in murky smoke dried cities like this, a fine summer's morning is a lovely sight — Abednego Levi was seated at -the only table in his room, or rather apology sor;a table, counting over and over again, and closely scrutinising the booty he had obtained by robbing his fellow-men, and depriving himself of the common necessaries of life.

Abednego Levi was at once a receiver of stolen goods, a money lender, • miser, and an outcast. - Truly a deplorable com bination of characters ! " Cleaned out," coolly observed a bystander. " Poor devil! go and hang yourself!" said another. Casting a hasty look at his antagonist, as if to brave the eye he dared not meet, he withdrew to another part of the room.

Chapter II. The Hell

When Frederick Vyvian left the Jew-miser in Smithfield, he pursued his way at a rapid rate to wards the west end. On arriving at the Fishmong er's-hall,* alias the Croch — a hell-mart sor gudgeons, By ones, by twos, by threes, the players gradually departed. The croupiers, bonnets, and others, in the pay of the proprietors, alone remained, and, callous to every feeling, stood watching, with a species of fiendish delight, the intense agony of the young * This hell was formerly kept by a ci-devant fishmongwho nightly realised Immense sums by it. It was puffed off as a club-house, and, whenever an action was commenced against tbe proprietor, be invariably expended a large sum in compromising the matter. gamester, who still lingered as if unwilling to leave the place of his destruction. thirty thousand pounds, and is fNMI'M »,g»0H> berry."

"** j These words were uttered in an under tone. Th* baronet advanced towards his young friend, while Vyvian turned to the mantel-piece, upon which he had ostentatiously displayed his winnings. " You had better go now," said a croupier, in an ironical, whining tone of voice." " There is a time for all things," hinted a flashily dressed bonnet. " Go !" mournfully echoed the young man ; " where can a wretch involved in debt and penniless find a shelter P" A violent burst of tears, accompanied with convulsive sobs, followed this exclamation. " Allow me, gentlemen, to introduce yon to each other," said the baron, returning with his new acquaintance. " Mr. Stamer, Mr. Vyvian and I sincerely hope that an intimacy will spring up between you as I think it will be to the advantage of both. " Come, come, young gentleman," said one of the employed of the establishment, "don't sit howling there ; just follow the example of your betters, and move towards the door : allow me to assist you," continued the ruffian, at the same time grasping him firmly by the arm, he endeavoured to thrust him out.

The youth, maddened by his losses, and indignant at the treatment he received, endeavoured to resist ; a scuffle ensued ; one of them, a powerful man, struck him a tremendous blow on the head : she youth fell covered with blood and bruises. No time was to be lost, for a new-comer might take alarm at a sight of this kind ; he was therefore hastily dragged into another room, his shoe washed, a glass of brandy poured down his throat, and, though he was scarcely able to stand, they led him out into the street and left him on the step of a door, while the policeman, who had discernment enough to perceive that his presence was not wanted, obligingly strolled in an opposite direction. Scenes of this description ore unfortunately but too common in these receptacles of vice. The heartle bs devils who keep them even feel a sort of demoniacal delight in beholding the sufferings of their infatuated victims, till, plunged in a chaos of inextricable wretchedness and ruin, they either put an end to their existence, or become as hardened in vlllany as their fiendish associates.

But let us return to the saloon. A new batch of players had entered ; the cronpiers had resumed their office. At one of the tables Vyvian had taken his seat ; he was playing for two thousand pounds, the best of five games. What with superior skill and a little sleight of hand, about one thousand five hundred pounds had found its way into his pocket. " For my part," replied the youth, I am so entirely ignorant of the manners and customs of this great city, that I cannot but benefit by the acquaintance." " My friend," responded the baronet, in rather an ironical tone of voice, " Is the best man in the world to give advice, for he has profited by experience ; bm as a friend I give you this hint, that the less yon visit houses of this description the better. I am bo; enough sometimes to try my luck .

I care not if I win. and lt cannot hurt me if I loose ; but I only dabble aa they call lt. Vyvian smiled, and, taking the young man familiarly by the arm, he led him to a long table covered with red and black oloth. " The celebrated game of Rouge et Noir, or Red and Black, is bo styled," said he, "not from the cards, but from the table on which it is played. Any number of persons may play at this game, and we will, if you please, try our luck." " I am not sufficiently acquainted with the gome," replied the young man. " but lt appears to be con ducted with a vast deal of propriety and fairness." A sarcastic smile again played over the still hand some features of Vyvian. " The persons who play the game," said he, " are called punters, and may risk their money on which colour they please. The stakes are to be placed within the outside line.

Bankers generally furnish punters with slips of card paper, ruled in columns, each morked N or R at the top, on which accounts are kept by pricking a pin." The young man, who had listened greedily to the lesson he was receiving, seemed half inclined to ha zard a game or two, when, suddenly, his attention was diverted by the noisy exclamations of a young officer who, having lost his all, begged to borrow of the managers, but they, knowing his circumstances. refused to lend without security. " I am really ashamed of receiving this large sum," said he, evidently elated at his run of good luck ; " but it is your own fault — you were so deter mined to play." " Since I have been in the habit of visiting these infernal hells," said bis opponent, in a surly tone of voice, " I have lost no less than thirty thousand pounds — rather more than the half of my fortune."

" I have nothing to give," exclaimed the youtb furiously, " but my ears." " Ah, Sir Richard !" exclaimed Frederick Vyvian, addressing his brother, a tall, portly-looking gentle man who had just entered the apartment. Sir Ri chard cast a keen glance at the winnings. " Yon der," said he, looking signifieantly at a gentlemanly youth, "is a young flat I picked up at Crock ford's ; I will, if you please, introduce yon to him ; he hae lately come into the possession of a fortune of " Well they're long enough, God knows," said looker-on. " Take 'em, take 'em," cried several voices " A bargain," langbed the baronet. " So let it be," jeeringly replied the banker. ' You're going to break the bank, ain't yon, air," said another. The efficer, rendered frantic by hie lessei and their UTS IN LONDON. 6 if he didn't hold his jaw.

And then ha calle* een vicked wretches to think of such a thing. This anecdote produced an universal laugh. " And there was old Mother Muggins, who kept • night school, principally for females, for teaching tito art of scolding and begging. She turned a pretty penny." Here the dialogue waB interrupted by the.entraao* of two men who, seating themselves apart from tbe> rest of the company, called for some hot gin KsA water. This being supplied, and the money paid %a it — for the keepers of these kens never give credit — they conversed in a tone audible only to themselves. The occupants of the " boozing ken " were fteW getting uproarious in their mirth. " A song, a song !" cried one. " Stay, I've got a toast to give," bawled anet&er — "Here's confusion to all honest men." This waa unanimously drank, and vociferously received.

" Have yon heard about Ned Darby's befog mSgged P" asked one of the new comers of the ottor. " Yes ; the traps hunted him down ab last, poo. fellow." " Lord, vot a mortal sight of care a beak tabes cl a cove in trouble. < Mind yon don't commit yereelf, whatever yer do/ says he. ' Don't say mc-Aii^ to hurt yerself." " " .air play's a jewel, I'm MoweJ If H efc»'t| vae re comes to consider who Is It as keeps all t£~ jsdgae -»nd counsellors so fat, and sleek, aad fine ; vy as, to be sure. It's ve that keeps 'em. Ve cause tt all. They owes it all to ve. And they oag&l So bs grata sol to ve for It.*" " Very true. I'm a thinking that aster all the criminal code isn't nigh so bad as It'e thought to be. Vy, if a genelman cotched us a prigging his wipe or cracking his crib, and thought there waa no law te redress him, he'd explode on the spot, aad ws might git roughly handled."

" A jist obserwation," observed his companies, pulling out volumes of tobacco smoke. " But now look what lota of holes these are for a feller to git out at, under the laws. I mean ths faer* of England. A slip of the pen, a Saw in the indict. ment, and a dozen other perpltions circumstances." " If it varn't for the laws, every man, women, as4 child 'd turn prigs, and then think vot'd he costs of onr perfession." The two men now drew close together, and conversed in a lower tone. "Have yer heerd anything'more about the job soas. I where up by (xrosvenor Gate ?" asked the shortest of the two ruffians. " Yes," replied the other, whose countenance #M hardly so repulsive as that of his companies. "Who's crib is it?" " A swell of the name of Vyvian. Tha tH Ifeey' set us up to it." •• Vfiiat, Abednego levi ?"

I "Tk» «»»»." * k neerrer ef Mela SMA ■'' unfeeling taunts, drew a penknife trom Ills pocKei, sad, cutting off the fleshy part of both bis ears, he _tjng them on the table,* This despersto act of courage drew applause from all round. Stamer followed by Vyvian and the baronet, who bitterly inveighed against (what he termed) the unlucky adventure, hastily quitted tho hell.

Chapter III. The Boozing Keh

t The seene changes. In a low public-house in Rosemary -lane, known as the sign of the " Nimbla Fingers," tho rendezvous of thieves, cracksmen, footpads, prostitutes, duffers, swell mobiles, and other rogues on the town, are as sembled a motley group of vagabonds. Some drinking "jiggered gin,"] some smoking, others swearing, one or two quarrelling, a few play ing at " head and tail," and here and there some one practising a species of step, peculiar to gentry of this description. On the Boor was a coat of thick dirt, trodden down hard by time, and about a dozen wood benches, few (if any) of them complete in all their members, supplied the place of seats. Ths whole atmosphere of the place wae horrlbK tainted with tobaeco smor and foul bre » •*.Pm •? The chief attraction appeared to be a beggar, who was busily employed in defining tho various names characters, and callings of different members of hia profession.