The Quaker City; or, The Monks of Monk Hall: a Romance of Philadelphia Life, Mystery, and Crime

Front matter

THE QUAKER CITY;

OR, THE

MONKS OF MONK HALL.

Preface To This Edition

MY Publishers ask me to write a Preface for this new Edition of the Quaker City. What shall I say ? Shall I at this time enter into a full explanation of the motives which induced me to write this Work ? Shall I tell how it has been praised how abused how it has on the one hand been cited as a Work of great merit, and on the other, how it has been denounced as the most immoral work of the age ?

The reader will spare me the task. The Quaker City has passed through many Editions in America, as well as in London. It has also been translated and numerous editions of it have been published in Germany, and a beautiful edition in four volumes, is now before me, bearing the imprint of Otto Wigand, Leipsic,7 f as Publisher, and the name of Frederick Gerstaker, as the Author.!

Taking all these facts into consideration, it seems but just that I should say a word for myself on this occasion.

The motive which impelled me to write this Work may be stated in a few words.

I was the only Protector of an Orphan Sister. I was fearful that I might be taken away by death, leaving her alone in the world. I knew too well that law of society which makes a virtue of the dishonor of a poor girl, while it justly holds the seduction of a rich man s child as an infamous crime. These thoughts im pressed me deeply. I determined to write a book, founded upon the following idea :

That the seduction of a poor and innocent girl, is a deed altogether as criminal as deliberate murder. It is worse than the murder of the body, for it is\the assassination of the soul^> If the murderer de serves death by the gallows, then the assassin of chastity and maiden hood is worthy of death by the hands of any man, and in any place. V; .

This was the first idea of the Work. It embodies a sophism, but it is a sophism that errs on the right side. But as I

Preface

progressed in my task, other ideas were added to the original thought. Secluded in my room, having no familiarity with the vices of a large city, save from my studentship in the office of an Attorney-General the Confessional of our Protestant communi ties I determined to write a book which should describe all the phases of a corrupt social system, as manifested in the city of Philadelphia. The results of my labors was this book, which has been more attacked, and more read, than any work of American fiction ever published.

And now, I can say with truth, that whatever faults may be discovered in this Work, that my motive in its composition was honest, was pure, was as Destitute of any idea of sensualism, as certain of the persons who have attacked it without reading a single page, are of candor, of a moral life, or a heart capable of generous emotions.^

To the young man and young woman who may read this book when I am dead, I have a word to say :

Would to God that the evils recorded in these pages, were not based upon facts. Would to God that the experience of my life had not impressed me so vividly with the colossal vices and the ter rible deformities, presented in the social system of this Large City, in the Nineteenth Century. You will read this work when the hand which pens this line is dust. If you discover one word in its pages, that has a tendency to develop one impure thought, I beseech you reject that word. If you discover a chapter, a page, or a line, that conflicts with the great idea of Human Brotherhood, promulgated by the Eedeemer, I ask you with all my soul, reject that chapter, that passage, that line. At the same time remember the idea which impelled me to produce the book. Remember that my life from the age of sixteen up to twenty-five was one per petual battle with hardship and difficulty, such as do not often fall to the lot of a young man such as rarely is recorded in the experience of childhood or manhood. Take the book with all its faults and all its virtues. Judge it as you yourself would wish \ to be judged. Do not wrest a line from these pages, for the Encouragement of a bad thought or a bad deed.

GEORGE LIPPARD.

INSCRIBED TO THE MEMORY CF CHARLES BROCKDEN BROWH. j

3The origin auU object of tin s Booh.

ONE winter night I was called to the bedside of a dying friend. I found him sitting up in his death-couch, pale and trembling yet unawed by the gathering shadows of the tomb. His white hairs fell over his clammy brow, his dark grey eye, glared with the unnatural light, which, heralds the approach of death. Old

K had been a singular man. He had been a profound lawyer, without fame

or judgeship. In quiet he pursued his dreamy way, deriving sufficient from his pro fession, to support him in decency and honor. <Jn a city, where no man has a friend, that has not money to back him^the good old lawyer had been my friend. He was one of those old-fashioned lawyers who delight to bury themselves among their books,<ivvho love the law for its theory, and not for its trick and craft and des picable chicanery^ Old K had been my friend, and now I sat by his bedside

in his last hour.

[ " Death is coming," he said with a calm smile, " but I dread him not. My ac counts with God are settled ; my face is clammy with the death-sweat, but I have no fear. When I am gone, you will find in yonder deskFa large pacquet, in scribed with your name. This pacquet, contains the records of my experience as a private councillor and a lawyer, for the last thirty years.} You are young and friendless, but *you have a pen> which will prove your best friend. I bequeath these Papers to you; they may be made serviceable to yourself and to the world ] ^ k u.

In a faint voice, I asked the good old lawyer, concerning the nature of these records.

" They contam(a full and terrible developement of the Secret Life of Philadel phia. In that pacquet, you will find, records of crimes, that never came to trial, murders that have never been divulged ; there you will discover the results of secret examinations, held by official personages, in relation to atrocities almost LOO horrible for belief ^-"

"Then," said I, "Philadelphia is not sojpurejas it looks l \."

" Alas, alas, that I should have to say it," said the old man with an expression of deep sorrow, " But whenever I behold its regular streets and formal look, 1 think olj~The Whited Sepulchre, without all purity, within, all rottenness and dead men s bones. Have you courage, to write a book from those papers ?*] ftV

" Courage 1"

T" Aye, courage, for the day has come, when a man dare not speak a plain truth, without all the pitiful things of this world, rising up against him, with ad der s tongues and treacherous hands. Write a book, with all your heart bent on some good object, and for every word you write, you will find a low-bred calum-

4 THE ORIGIN AND OBJECT OF THIS BOOK.

niator, eager to befoul you with his slandersj Have you courage, to write a book from the materials, which I leave you, which shall be devoted to these objects- To defend the sanctity of female honor ; to show how miserable and corrupt is o^.^ that Pseudo-Christianity which tramples on every principle ever preached or practised by the Saviour Jesus ; to lay bare vice in high places, and strip gilded crimes of their tinsel. Have you courage for this?"

I could only take the old man s hand, within my own, and murmur faintly, "I ll try!"

"Have you courage, to lift<the cover from the Whited Sepulchre, and while the world is crying honor to its outward purity, to show the festering corruption j that rankles in its depths ?> Then those records are yours !"

- " jet, I sat beside the deathbed of the old man all night long. His last hours were

f* past in calm converse, full of hope and trust in God. Near the break of day, he

died. God bless him ! He was my friend, when I had nothing but an orphan s

gratitude, to tender in return for his friendship. He was a lawyer, and honest ;

I a Christian and yet no bigot ; a philosopher and yet no sceptic.

After his funeral, I received the pacquet of papers, inscribed with my name, and endorsed, REVELATIONS OF THE SECRET LIFE OF PHILADELPHIA, being the re cords of thirty years practice as a councillor, by * * * K .

The present book is founded upon those portions of th^Revelations, more in timately connected with the present day.

|With the same sincerity; with which I have written this Book of the Quaker ^ City, I now give it to my countrymen, as an illustration of the life, mystery and

crime of Philadelphia^ r

THE

MONKS OF MONK-HALL,

Book The First. The First Night

MARY, THE MERCHANT S DAUGHTER.

CHAPTER FIRST. and a very round face, illuminated by

a pear-shaped nose " Brandy is a WAGER IN (THE OYSTER-CELLAR.) gentleman a per perfect gentle man. He leaves no head-ache next morning by way of a card. Cham pagne s a sucker - - a hypocritical scoundrel, who first goes down your throat, smooth as oil, and then a

" I SAY, gentlemen, shall we make a night of it t That s the question gents. Shall we elevate the the devil along Chesnut street, or shall we .subside quietly to our homes ? Let s toss up for it which shall have the night brandy and oysters, or quilts and feather-beds ?" And as he spoke, the little man broke loose from the grasp of his friends, and retiring to the shelter of an awning-post, flung his cloak over his shoulder with a vast deal of drunken dignity, while his vacant eyes were fixed upon the con vivial group scattered along the pave ment.

" Brandy" cried a gentleman distinguished by a very pursy figure, enveloped in a snow-white overcoat, a very much so how d d

irregular these bricks are puts a powder-mill in your head and blows it up dam im ! Mem : Byrnewood d ye hear ? write to thercorporation/to-moirow, about these curst mountainous pavements " And hav ing thus said, the pursy gentleman re treated to the shelter of another awning-post, leaving the two remaining mem bers of the convivial party, in full possession of the pavement, which they laid out in any given number of garden-plots without delay.

" Byrnewood d ye hear ?" ex- 5

THE MERCHANT S DAUGHTER.

claimed the tallest gentleman of the tivaio, gathorrr g his frogged overcoat c-ioser around him, "while his mus tachioed lip was wreathed in a drunken smile " Look yonder at fthe state-house] sing singular phenomenon] There s the original steeple and duplicate. Two steeples, by Jupiter !

Remarkable effect of moonlight ! Very Doesn t it strike you, Byrnewood, that yonder watch-box is walking across the street, to black the lamp post s eyes for for making a face at him ?"

The gentleman thus addressed, instead of replying to the sagacious query of his friend, occupied a small portion of his leisure time in perform ing an irregular Spanish dance along the pavement, terminating in a pleasant combination of the cachuca, with a genuine New Jersey double-shuffle.

This accomplished, he drew his well proportioned figure to its full height, cast back his cloak from his shoulders, and turned his face to the moonlit sky.

As he gazed upon the heavens, clear, cold, and serene as death, the moon light falling over his features, dis closed a handsome tho pallid face, relieved by long curling locks of jet black hair. For a moment he seemed intensely absorbed amid the intricacies of a philosophical reverie, for he fre quently put his thumb to his nose, and described circles in the air with his outspread fingers. At last tottering to a seat on a fire-plug, he delivered himself of this remarkable expression of opinion . " Miller the Prophet s right ! Right

I say ! The world d n the plug,

how it shakes the world is coming to an end for certain ^for, d ye see

I boys there s two moons shining up yonder this blessed night sure as fate"

The scene would have furnished a tolerable good subject for an effective convivial picture, f cM* <4 - CJ ~ C

There, seated on the door-way step of a four storied dwelling, his arms crossed over his muscular chest, his right hand grasping a massive gold-headed cane, Mr. Gustavus Lorrimer, commonly styled the nandsome Gus Lorrimer, in especial reference to his well-known favor among the ladies, presented to the full glare of the moonbeams, a fine manly countenance, marked by a brilliant dark eye, a nose slightly aquiline, a firm lip clothed with a mustache, while his hat tossed slightly to one side, disclosed a bold and prominent forehead, relieved by thick clusters of rich brown hair.

His dark eye at all times full of fire, shone with a glance of unmistakeable humor, as he regarded his friend seated on the fire-plug directly opposite the doorway steps.

This friend Mr. Byrnewood, as he had been introduced to Lorrimer was engaged in performing an extem poraneous musical entertainment on the top of the fire-plug with his fingers, while his legs were entwined around it, as though the gentleman was urging a first-rate courser at the top of his speed.

His cloak thrown back from his shoulders, his slight though well-pro portioned and muscular form, was revealed to the eye, enveloped in a closely fitting black frock-eoat.

His face was very pale, and his long hair, which swept in thick ringlets to his shoulders, was dark as a ravens

, THE vVAGER.

<

wing, yet his forehead was high and massive, his features regular, and his jet-black eye, bright as a flame-coal.

His lips, now wreathing in the very silly smile peculiar to all worshippers of the bottle-god, were, it is true, somewhat slight and thin, and when in repose inclining to severity in ex pression ; yet the general effect of his countenance was highly interesting, and his figure manly and graceful in its outlines, although not so tall by half-a-head as the magnificent Gus Lorrimer.

While he is beating a tattoo on the fire-plug, let us not forget our other friends, Col. Mutchins, in his snow-white overcoat and shiny hat ; and Mr.

Sylvester J. Petriken, in his glazed cap and long cloak, as leaning against opposite awning posts, they gaze in each others faces and afford a beauti ful contrast for the pencil of our friend Darley.

Col. Mutchins face, you will ob serve, is very much like a picture of a dissipated full-moon, with a large red pear stuck in the centre for a nose, while two small black beads, placed in corresponding circles of crimson tape, supply the place of eyes. The Colonel s figure is short, thick-set, and corpulent ; he is very broad across the shoulders, broader across the waist, and very well developed in the region of the hands and boots. The gen tleman, clinging nervously to the op posite awning post, is remarkable for three things smallriess of stature, shghtness of figure, and slimness of legs. His head is very large, his face remarkable for its pallor, is long wad square looking as though it had been laid out with a rule and compass with a straight formal nose, placed some distance above a wide mouth marked by two parallel lines, in the way of lips. His protuberant brow, faintly relieved by irregular locks of mole-skin colored hair, surmounted by a high glazed cap, overarches two large, oyster-like eyes, that roll about in their orbits with the regularity of machinery. These eyes remind you of nothing more, than those glassy things which, in obedience to a wire, give animation to the expressive face of a Dresden wax-doll.

And over this scene of quadruple convivialism , shone the midnight moon , her full glory beaming from a serene winter sky, upon the roofs and steeples of the Quaker City. The long shadows of the houses on the opposite side of the way, fell darkly along the street, while in the distance, terminating the dim perspective, arose the State-House buildings, with the steeple shooting upward into the clear blue sky.

" That champagne " hiccupcd Mr. Petriken, clinging to the awning-post, under a painful impression that it was endeavoring to throw him down

That champagne was very strong and the oysters Oh my "

" As mortal beings we are subject to sud sudden sickness " observ ed the sententious Mutchins, gathering his awning-post in a fonder embrace.

" I say, Byrnewood how shall we terminate the night ? Did I under stand you that the d 1 was to be

raised? If so, let s start. Think how many bells are to be pulled, how many watch-boxes to be attacked, how many

THE MERCHANT S DAUGHTER.

curse the thing, I believe I m toddied watchmen to be licked.

Come on boys ?"

" Hist ! Gus ! You ll scare the fire-plug. He s trying to run off with me

the scoundrel. Wait till I put the spurs to him, I say !"

" Come on boys. Let s go round to Smokey Chiffin s oyster cellar and have a cozy supper. Come on I say.

Take my arm, Byrnewood there, steady here Petriken, never mind the awning-post, take this other arm

now Mutchins hook Silly s arm and let s travel "

But Mutchins who, by the way, had been out in a buffaloe hunt the year before was now engaged in an imaginary, though desperate fight with a Sioux warrior, whom he bela bored with terrific shrieks and yells.

" D n the fool he ll have us

all imthe watch house) " exclaimed Lorrimer, who appeared to be the soberest of the party by several bottles " Fun is fun, but this thing of cut ting up shines in Chesnut street, after twelve, when it keep steady Silly amounts to yelling like a devil in harness is un-un-der-stand me, no fun. Come along, Mutchy my boy !"

And arm in arm, linked four abreast, like horses very tastelessly matched, the boon companions tottered along Chesnut street, toward Smokey Chiffin s oyster cellar, where they arrived, with but a single interruption.

This mysterious combination of sounds emanated from a stout gen tleman in a slouching hat, and four or five overcoats, who, with a small piece of cord -wood in his hand met our party breast to breast, as they were speeding onward in full career.

" I say stranger do that over again will yo ?" shrieked Petriken, turning his square face over his shoulder and gazing at the retreating figure with the cord-stick and the overcoats "Jist do that again if you please. Let me go I tell you, Gus.

Don t you see, this is some dis-distinguished vocal -ist from London 1 What a pathos there is in his voice so deep so full why Brough is nothing to him ! Knock Wood, and Seg-Seguin and Shrival and a dozen more into a musical cocked-hat, and they can t equal our mys-mysterious friend "

" I say you d better tortle on my coveys " cried he of the great coats and cord stick, in a subterranean voice " Or p r aps, my fellers, ye d like to tend Mayor Scott s tea-party would ye ?"

"Thank you kindly " exclaimed Gus Lorrimer in an insinuating tone, " otherwise engaged. But my friend if you will allow me to ask what do you mean by that infernal noise you produced just now ? Let us into the lark ?"

The gentleman of the cord stick and overcoats, was however beyond hear ing by this time, and our friends moved on their way, Byrnewood ob serving in an under tone, somewhat roughened by hiccups, that on his soul, he believed that queer old cove, in the slouched hat, meant by his mysterious noise to impart the impor tant truth that it was half -past ticelve o clock and a moonlight morning.

Descending into Smokey Chiffin g subterranean retreat, our friends were

THE WAGER.

wailed upon by a very small man, with a sharp face and a white apron, and a figure so lank and slender, thai the idea involuntarily arose to the spectators mind, of whole days and nights of severe training, having been bestowed upon a human frame, in order to reduce it to a degree of thinness quite visionary.

" Come my * Virginia abstraction exclaimed Lorrimer " Show us into a private room, and tell us what yov ve got for supper "

" This way sir this way gents " cried Smokey Chiffin, as the thin gen tlemen was rather familiarly styled " What got for supper ? Woodcock air ? excellent sir. Venison sir ; ex cellent sir. Oysters sir, stewed, sir, fried sir, roasted sir, or in the shell sir. Excellent sir. Some right fresh, fed on corn-meal sir. What have sir ?

Excellent sir. This way gents "

fare, the host, attended by his cus tomers, disappeared from the refrectory proper, through an obscure door into the private room.

There may be some of our readers who have never been within the con fines of one of those oyster-caverns which abound in the Quaker City.

For their especial benefit, we will en deavor to pencil forth a few of the most prominent characteristics of the

" Oyster Chiffin."

Saloon by Mr. Samuel

Lighted by flaring gas-pipes, it was divided into two sections by a blazing hot coal stove. The section beyond the stove, wrapt in comparative ob scurity, was occupied by two opposing rows of boxes, looking very much jKe conventual stalls, ranged side by side, for the accommodation of the brothers of some old-time monastery.

The other section, all light, and glitter, and show, was ornamented at its ex treme end, by a tremendous mirror, in which a toper might look, time after time, in order to note the various degrees of drunkenness through which

An oyster-box, embellish ed by a glorious display of tin signs with gilt letters, holding out inviting manifestations of "oysters stewed fried or in the shell," occupied one entire side of this section, gazing directly in the face of the liquor bar placed oppo site, garnished with an imposing array of decanters, paint gilding, and glasses.

And the company gathered herel Not very select you may be sure, Four or five gentlemen with seedy coats and effloresent noses were warm ing themselves around the stove, and discussing the leading questions of the

And as he thus delivered his bill of day ; two individuals whose visits to the bar had been rather frequent, were kneeling in one corner, swearing at a very ragged dog, whom they could nt persuade to try a glass of * Imperial Elevator, and seated astride of a chair, silent and alone, a young man whose rakish look and ruffled attire betrayed the medical student on his first * spree was endeavouring to hold himself steady, and look uncommonly sober ; which endeavour always pro duces, as every body knows, the most ridiculous phase of drunkenness.

These Oyster Cellers are queer things. Like the caverns of old story, in which the Giants, those ante-diluvian rowdies, used to sit all day long, and use the most disreputable arts to inveigle lonely travellers into thenclutches, so these modern dens, are

THE MERCHANT S DAUGHTER.

3ccupied by a jolly old Giant of a de canter, who too often lures the unsus pecting into his embrace. A strange tale might be told, could the stairway leading down into the Oyster Celler be gifted with the power of speech.

Here Youth has gone down laughing merrily, and here Youth has come up, his ruddy cheek wrinkled and his voice quavering with premature age.

Here Wealth has gone down, and kept going down until at last he came up with his empty pocket, turned inside out, and the gripe of grim starvation on his shoulder. Here Hope, so young, so gay, so light-hearted has gone down, and came up transformed into a very devil with sunken cheeks, bleared eyes, and a cankered heart.

Oh merry cavern of the Oyster Celler, nestling under the ground so close to Independence Hall, how great the wonders, how mighty the doings, how surprising the changes accomplished in your pleasant den, by your jolly old Giant of a Decanter !

It is here in this Oyster Celler, that we open the fearful tragedy which it is the painful object of our narrative, to tell. Here amid paint, and glitter and gilding, amid the clink of glasses and the roar of drinking songs, oc curred a scene, which trifling and insipid as it may appear to the casual observer, was but the initial letter to a long and dreary alphabet of crime, mystery and bloodshed.

In a room, small and comfortable, lighted by gas and warmed by a cheerful coal-fire, around a table furn ished with various luxuries, and garn ished with an array of long necked bottles, we find our friends of the con vivial party. Their revel had swelled to the highest, glass clinked against glass, bottle after bottle had been ex hausted, voices began to mingle to gether, the drinking song and the prurient story began to pass from lip to lip, while our sedate friend, Smokey Chiffin, sate silently on the sofa, re garding the drunken bout with a glance of quiet satisfaction.

"Let me see let me see" he murmured quietly to himself " Four bottles o Cham, at two dollars a bot tle four times two is eight. Hum

hum. They ll drink six more.

Let s call it twelve altogether. Say twenty-four shiners for supper and all.

Hum hum Gus pays for all.

That fellow Petrikin s a sponge.

Wonder when Col. Mutchins will call for the cards ? Don t know who this fellow Byrnewood is? New face may be he s a roper* too? We ll see we ll see."

" Give us your hand, Gus " cried Byrnewood, rising from his seat and flinging his hand unsteadily across the table " Damme, I like you old fellow. Never never knew until to-night met you at Mutchin s room

wish I d known you all my life Give us your hand, my boy !"

Calm and magnificent, Gustavus extended his hand, and exclaimed, in a voice, which champaigne could not deprive of its sweetness, that it gave him pleasure to know such a regular bird as Mister Byrnewood ; great plea sure ; extraordinary pleasure.

I * This genteel term is applied to a well dressed edition of the vulgar stool-pigeon, used by gamblers, to decoy the unwary into their dens. The stool-pigeon is the loafei decoy, the roper is very aristocratic, prevail* jn the large hotel and is called a -r gentleman.

THE WAGER.

" You see, fellows, I believe I ll take a spree for three days wont go home, or to the store in Front street. Mean to keep it up until after Christmas. Wants three days o Christmas mean to jolly ha ha how the room reels "

" Gentle-men I don t know what is the matter with me " observed Petriken, who rested his elbows help lessly on the table, as he looked around with his square face, lengthened into a vacant stare " There s somethin queer a-goin on with my eyes. I seem to see spiders lots o em play in corner-ball with roaches. See anything o the kind, Mutchins?"

" Why why " replied that sen tentious gentleman as his red round face was overspread by a commiserat ing smile " Why the fact is Silly you ve been drinkin . By the bye does nt it strike you that there s some thing queer going on with that gas light. I say, Smokey, is nt there a beetle tryin to mash his brains out against that gas-pipe?"

" Gentlemen I will give you a toast!" exclaimed Lorrimer, as he stood erect, the bold outline of his manly form, his handsome face, the high forehead relieved by thick masses of brown hair, the aquiline nose, the rounded chin, and the curving lip darkened by a mustache, all shown to advantage in the glowing light "Gentlemen fill your glasses no heeltaps! WOMAN!"

"WOMAN!" shrieked the other three, springing unsteadily to their feet, and raising their glasses on high "WOMAN! Three times three hip-hip-hurrah !"

" Womer !" muttered Sylvester

Petriken * " Women tor ever ! when we re babies she nusses us, when we re boys she lathers us, when we re men she bedevils and bewitches us !"

" Woman " muttered Colonel Mutchins " without her what ud life be ? A dickey without a plete, a collar without starch !"

" We can t help it if we fascinate em ?" exclaimed Byrnewood " Can we Gus ?"

" All fate, my boy all fate. By the bye set down boys. I ve got a nice little adventure of my own to tell.