CHAPTER XVII
_Illustrating the truth of the proverb that 'Murder will out,' andcontaining an Appalling Discovery._
Two or three days after the above events, Dr. Sinclair was sent for by awoman lying at the point of death. He found her occupying the garret ofan old, crazy tenement in Orange street; she was stretched upon amiserable bed, covered only by a few rags, and her short breathings,sunken cheeks, and lustreless eyes, proclaimed that the hand of deathwas upon her. Though young in years, her appearance indicated that shehad passed through much suffering, destitution and sin.
'Are you the clergyman?' she asked in a faint voice.
'I am; what can I do for you, my good woman?' said the Doctor, seatinghimself on a rickety stool at the bedside.
'Oh, sir,' cried the invalid, evidently in great mental distress, 'Iwant you to pray for me. Do you think there is any hope for such asinner as I have been? I am dying, and my soul is lost--forever!'
In his own heart, the rector felt his unfitness to administer comfort insuch a case, considering his own wickedness; yet he strove to quiet theuneasiness of the poor creature, by assuring her that there was hope forthe 'chief of sinners.' At her request he prayed with her; and then sheaddressed him as follows:--
'There is something on my mind which I must make confession of, or Ishall not die easy--something that will make you shrink from me, as froma guilty wretch, who deserves no mercy. I am a _murderess_!'
'A murderess!' echoed the Doctor, starting back with horror; after a fewmoments' pause, he added--'proceed with your confession.'
'I will, sir. Four years ago, I entered the service of Mrs. LucretiaFranklin, in Washington Place.'
The Doctor started again--this time with surprise; and he listened withattentive interest to the woman's narrative.
'Mrs. Franklin's husband,' she resumed, 'was a very rich man, and veryreligious and strict; his daughter Sophia took after him much, and was avery good girl; but his wife and daughter Josephine were exactlycontrary to him, for they were very giddy and gay, always going totheatres, and balls, and such like places, keeping late hours, andacting so dissipated like, that at last Mr. Franklin was determined toput a stop to it entirely, and make them stay at home. So he told themthat he shouldn't allow them to go on as they had any longer; and havingonce said the word, he stuck to it. My lady and Miss Josephine were bothvery much dissatisfied with Mr. Franklin, on account of his being sostrict with them; and I could plainly see that they began to hate him.It is now about two years ago, and Josephine was in her sixteenth year(ah, sir, I have good reason to remember the time,) when I found myselfin the way to become a mother, having been led astray by a young man,who deceived me under a promise of marriage, and then deserted me. Well,sir, my situation was at last noticed by my lady and her daughter, andone evening they called me up into a chamber, and accused me of being alewd girl. Falling on my knees, I acknowledged my fault, and imploredthem to pity and forgive me, and not turn me off without a character.Then Miss Josephine spoke harshly to me, and asked me how I dared dosuch a thing, and bring disgrace upon their house and family; and hermother threatened to send me to jail, which frightened me so that Ipromised to do anything in the world if they would forgive me. '_Willyou do any thing we command you to do_, if we forgive you?' asked Mrs.Franklin; and I said that I would. '_You must swear it_,' said MissJosephine; and getting a Bible, they made me swear a dreadful oath to doas they bid me. They then told me that there was one thing I must do,and they would give me as much money as I wanted; they said I must _killMr. Franklin_! On hearing such a horrible request, I almost fainted; andtold them that I never would do such a dreadful thing. But they remindedme of my oath, and at last threatened and frightened me so, that Iconsented to do the awful deed. '_It must be done to-night!_' said MissJosephine, and her eyes seemed to flash fire; then she gave me somebrandy to drink, which flew into my brain, and I felt myself able to doanything, no matter how wicked it might be.--They staid with me untilmidnight, and made me drink brandy until I was almost crazy. You mustknow, sir, that Mr. Franklin slept in a separate room from my lady, eversince their disagreement; upon that dreadful night he retired to bed atabout ten o'clock. Well--but oh, my God! how can I tell the dreadfultruth!--yet I must nerve myself to confess the whole matter. Atmidnight, Mrs. Franklin brought into the room a small copper cup, whichcontained a small quantity of _lead_; this cup she held over the lampuntil the lead was melted as thin as water; and then she handed it tome, and told me to go softly into her husband's room, and _pour the leadinto his ear_! I DID IT! Yes, as God is my Judge, I did it!--The poorgentleman was lying on his side, in a sound sleep; with a steady hand Ipoured the liquid metal into his ear--_it did not awake him!_ he merelyshuddered once, and died.--The next morning he was found by his servant,stiff and cold. Some people talked of 'disease of the heart,' others, of'apoplexy,' many, of 'the visitation of God,' while some shrugged theirshoulders, and said nothing. But _I_ knew the secret of his death! Hewas buried with great pomp in the family tomb in St. Paul's churchyard.My confession is made. After the funeral, my lady and Josephine gave meplenty of money. 'Go,' said they, 'to some other city, and take up yourabode; you will never the mention the manner in which Mr. Franklin cameto his death, for such a disclosure would bring your own neck to thehalter, without injuring us--_your hand_ alone did the deed!' I went toBoston, and gave birth to a stillborn child; my money soon went and Ibecame a common prostitute.--Disease soon overtook me--but why dwellupon the misfortunes and wanderings of a wretch like me? A week ago, Ifound myself again in New York, the inmate of this garret; to-day I feltmyself dying, and sent for a clergyman to hear my dying confession. I amexhausted; I can say no more--God have mercy on me!'
'One word more,' cried the rector; 'by what name were you known to theFranklins?'
'Mary Welch,' she replied, faintly.
The wretched creature soon afterwards breathed her last.
The Doctor left a sufficient sum of money with the inmates of the houseto defray the expenses of the woman's funeral, and took his departurefrom that scene of wretchedness. As he retraced his steps to his owndwelling, his thoughts were of the most painful nature; the woman'sconfession, implicating Josephine and her mother in the crime of murder,horrified him, and gave rise to the most terrible reflections. In hisown heart he could not doubt the truth of the wretched woman'sstatement, made as it was on her death-bed, and just as she was about tobe ushered into the presence of her Maker.
'My God!' thought the rector, entering his study, and throwing himselfdistractedly into a seat--'to what a dreadful disclosure have Ilistened--Josephine the murderess of her father! Mrs. Franklin themurderess of her husband! Can it be possible?--Alas, I cannot doubt it;for why should that woman, at the awful moment of her dissolution, tella falsehood? I remember now the circumstances of Mr. Franklin's death;it was sudden and unaccountable, and privately spoken of with suspicion,as to its cause; yet those suspicions never assumed any definiteshape.--The poor gentleman was buried without any post mortemexamination, and the singular circumstances of his death were graduallyforgotten. But now the awful mystery is revealed to me; he met his deathat the hands of that miserable woman, at the instigation of Josephineand her mother.'
But the Doctor's most painful thoughts arose from the reflection that hehad formed a criminal connection with such a vile, guilty creature asJosephine. He had learned to tolerate her licentiousness and herconsummate hypocrisy; he had loved her with passionate fervor, while hehad only regarded her as a frail, beautiful woman, who, having becomeenamored of him, had enticed him to her arms. But now she stood beforehim as a wretch capable of any crime--as the murderess of her ownfather; and all his love and admiration for her were turned into aloathing hate; and while he had no intention of denouncing her and hermother to the authorities of justice, he determined to have but one moreinterview with her, and at that interview to reproach her for her crime,and cast her off forever.
'But previous to that interview,' thought he, 'I will ma
ke assurancedoubly sure; I will find means to enter the vault wherein Mr. Franklin'sbody was interred; I will examine the remains, and as my knowledge ofhuman anatomy is considerable, I shall have no difficulty in discoveringthe evidences of foul play, if such evidences exist. Having thussatisfied myself beyond the shadow of a doubt that Mr. Franklin wasmurdered, I can with confidence accuse Josephine and her mother of thedeed; and from that moment, all connection between me and that wickedwoman shall cease forever. I have been infatuated and enslaved by herseductive beauty and her fascinating favors; but thank God, I am myselfagain, and resolved to atone for the past, by leading a life of purityand virtue for the future.'
That night the Doctor was called on to perform the marriage ceremony atthe house of a friend, at a distant part of the city; and it was latewhen he set out to return to his own home.
It was a dismal night, dark and starless; the sky was laden withimpending storm, and the rector shuddered as he looked forward into thegloom, and contrasted it with the scene of light and gaiety which he hadjust left. His heart was oppressed with a heavy weight; for he could notshake off the dreadful thought that Josephine--beautiful andaccomplished Josephine--whom he had loved with a fervent though unholypassion--was a _murderess_!
While hurrying on with rapid strides, his mind tortured by such painfulreflections, a tall figure suddenly stood before him, and a voicewhispered--
'Deliver your money, or die!'
The rector perceived that the robber had his arm raised, and that heheld in his hand a large knife, ready to strike in case of resistance oralarm. Dr. Sinclair was no coward; had there been a single chance in hisfavor, he would have grappled with the robber, rather than yield to hisdemand; yet he was slender and by no means powerful--he was alsounarmed; and besides, the idea flashed through his mind that thedesperado might be of use to him, and these considerations prompted himto speak in a conciliatory tone and manner:--
'Friend,' said he, 'unfortunately for you I am but a poor parson, andhave only about me a few dollars, which I have just received as my feefor uniting a happy couple in the holy bonds of wedlock. What I have youare welcome to; here is my purse.'
The robber took the purse, and was about to move off, when the rectorcalled to him and said,--
'Stay, friend; you are the very man I want to assist me in a dangerousenterprise--one that requires courage, and strength, and skill; if youengage to aid me, your reward shall be liberal--what say you?'
'You must first tell me what it is you want done,' replied the robber.
'I want to break open a tomb in St. Paul's churchyard, and examine adead body; and to do this I shall require an assistant,' said theDoctor, in a low tone.
'That is all well enough,' rejoined the robber; 'but how do I know thatyou are not laying a plan to entrap me into the clutches of the law, forhaving robbed you?'
'Pshaw!' exclaimed the Doctor, disdainfully, 'why should I seek toentrap you? You have only relieved me of a few dollars, and what care Ifor that! Draw near, and examine me closely; do I look like a man whowould tell a base lie, even to bring a robber to justice?--have I notthe appearance of a gentleman? I pledge you my sacred word of honor,that I meditate no treachery against you.'
'Enough--I am satisfied,' said the robber, after having scrutinized theDoctor as closely as the darkness would admit of--'when is this thing tobe done?'
'To-morrow night will probably be stormy, and suitable for the purpose,'replied Dr. Sinclair. 'Meet me precisely as the clock strikes the hourof midnight, at the great gate on the lower extremity of the Park; youmust come provided with such tools as will be necessary to effect anentrance into the tomb, which is probably secured by a strong padlock;also bring with you a lantern, and the means of lighting it. My objectin thus disturbing the repose of the dead, is of no consequence to you;it will be sufficient for you to understand that you are hired toperform a service, which is to be well paid for when completed--youcomprehend me?'
'I do,' said the robber, 'and shall not fail to meet you at the time andplace appointed; if you have no more to say to me, I will now bid yougood night.'
'Good night,' said the Doctor; 'and pray, my good friend, do not menaceany other belated traveller with that ugly knife of yours.'
The robber laughed, and turning on his heel, strode away in thedarkness, while the rector continued on his way towards his residence.When he reached his house, and had entered the door, a person emergedfrom the darkness, and by the light of a street lamp which was near,read the name upon the door-plate.--The Doctor had been followed home bythe robber.
'All right,' muttered the latter worthy, as he walked away--'he lives inthat house, and his name is Dr. Sinclair. Men of his class don'tgenerally play the spy or traitor; so I can safely keep the appointment.He is not a physician or surgeon; therefore what in the devil's nameshould he want to break into a tomb for? No matter; to-morrow night willexplain the mystery.' And the robber's form was lost in the darkness.
As the Doctor had predicted, the night which followed the adventure justrelated, was stormy; the snow fell thick and fast, and the darkness wasintense. As the clock struck the hour of midnight, a figure muffled in acloak slowly emerged from the lower extremity of the Park, and paused atthe great gate which forms the Southern angle of that vast enclosure. Hehad waited there but a few minutes, when he was joined by anotherperson, who asked him--
'Well, Sir Robber, is it you?'
'All right, sir; you see I am punctual,' replied the robber. The otherperson was of course the rector.
Without any further conversation, the two proceeded down Broadway, untilthey stood before the magnificent church of St. Paul's. This splendidedifice, of Grecian architecture, was situated on the border of anextensive burying ground, which with the church itself, was surroundedby an iron railing of great height. Finding the front gate secured by amassive lock, the robber applied himself to the task of picking it, withan instrument designed for that purpose. This was soon accomplished, andentering the enclosure, the two passed around the rear of the church,and stood among the many tomb-stones which marked the last resting placeof the quiet dead.
The rector, being well acquainted with the arrangements of the ground,had no difficulty in finding the tomb he wished to enter. A plain marbleslab, upon which was sculptured the words 'Franklin Family,' denoted thespot. It required the united strength of both the men to raise this slabfrom the masonry on which it rested. This being done, they stepped intothe aperture, descended a short flight of stone steps, and found theirfurther progress arrested by an iron door, secured by an immensepadlock.
'It will now be necessary to light my lantern; I can do so with safety,'said the robber. And igniting a match, he lighted a dark lantern whichhe had brought with him. Dr. Sinclair then, for the first time,distinctly beheld the features of his midnight companion; and he startedwith horror--for the most diabolically hideous countenance he had everseen or dreamed of in his life, met his gaze. The robber observed theimpression he had made upon his employer, and grinned horribly a ghastlysmile.
'You don't like my looks, master,' said he, gruffly.
'I certainly cannot call you handsome,' replied the Doctor, trying tosmile--'but no matter--you will answer my purpose as well as a comelierperson. Let us proceed with our work; can you break or pick thispadlock?'
The robber made no reply, but drew from his pocket a bunch of skeletonkeys, with which he soon removed the padlock; and the heavy iron doorswung upon its rusty hinges with a loud creaking noise.
'D----n and blast that noise!' growled the robber.
'Silence, fellow!' cried the rector, authoritatively; 'you are standingin the chamber of the dead, and such profanity is out of place here--nomore of it.'
This reproof was received with a very ill grace by the robber, whoglared savagely upon his reprover, and seemed almost inclined to springupon him and strangle him on the spot--no difficult thing for him to do,for the Doctor was of slender build, while he himself possessed a frameunusually muscular and po
werful.
They entered the vault, and the feeble rays of the lantern shone dimlyon the damp green walls, and on the few coffins which were placed uponshelves.
An awful odor pervaded the place, so loathsome, so laden with theeffluvia of death and corruption, that the rector hesitated, and wasmore than half inclined to abandon the undertaking; but after a moment'sreflection--
'No,' he said, mentally--'having gone thus far, it would ill become meto retreat when just on the point of solving the terrible mystery; Iwill proceed.'
He advanced and examined the coffins, some of which were so muchdecayed, that their ghastly inmates were visible through the large holesin the crumbling wood. At length he found one, in a tolerable state ofpreservation, upon which was a gold plate bearing the name of EdgarFranklin. Satisfied that this was the one he was in search of, hedesired the robber to come forward and assist in removing the lid, whichbeing done, a fleshless skeleton was revealed to their view.
'Now, fellow,' said the Doctor, 'I am about to make a certaininvestigation, of which you must not be a witness; therefore, you willretire to the outer entrance of the tomb, and wait there until I callyou. Your reward shall be in proportion to your faithful obedience of myorders.'
Casting a look of malignant hate at the young gentleman, the robberwithdrew from the vault, shutting the iron door behind him; and as hedid so, he muttered a deep and terrible curse.
'Now may Heaven nerve me to the performance of this terrible task!'exclaimed the rector, solemnly; and bending over the coffin, he held thelantern in such a position as enabled him to gaze into the interior ofthe skull, through the eyeless sockets.
But oh, horrible--within that skull was a mass of live corruption--amyriad of grave worms banquetting upon the brains of the dead!
The Doctor reeled to the iron door of the vault, threw it open, andeagerly breathed the fresh air from above. This somewhat revived him,and he called on his assistant to come down. The robber obeyed, and wasthus addressed by his employer--
'Friend, I have overrated my own powers--perhaps your nerves arestronger, your heart bolder than mine. Go to that coffin which weopened, search the interior of the skull, and if you find anything in itsingular, or in the least degree unusual, bring it to me.--Here is apocket-book containing money to a large amount; take it and keep it, butdo as I have requested.'
The robber took the pocket-book and went into the vault. Horror couldnot sicken _him_; the terrors of death itself had no terror for him.
After the lapse of a few moments, he exclaimed--'I have foundsomething!' and advancing to the door, he handed to the doctor a smallobject, having first wiped it with an old handkerchief.
Overcoming his repugnance by a powerful effort, the doctor walked backinto the vaults towards the lantern, which still remained upon thecoffin-lid.
Upon examining the article which had been taken from the skull, he foundit to be _a piece of lead_, of an irregular shape and weighing nearlytwo ounces.
'My belief in the guilt of Josephine and her mother is confirmed,'thought he. 'Shall I deliver them into the hands of justice? that mustbe decided hereafter; at all events, I will accuse them of the crime,and discontinue all connection with the wretched Josephine forever.'
Having carefully placed the piece of lead in his pocket, he advanced tothe door, with the intent of leaving the robber to fasten on the lid ofthe coffin. To his surprise and horror he discovered that the door waslocked! He knocked frantically against it, but was only answered by alow laugh from the outside.
'Wretch--villain!' he exclaimed. 'What mean you by this trick? Open thedoor instantly, I command you!'
'Fool!' cried the robber, contemptuously. 'I obey your commands nolonger. You shall be left in this tomb to rot and die. You spoke to mewith scorn, and shall now feel my vengeance. Think not, that I amignorant of your true object in entering this tomb;--there has been a_murder_ committed, and you sought for evidence of the crime. Thatevidence is now in your possession; but the secret is known to me, and Ishall not fail to use it to my advantage. I shall seek out theFranklins, and inform them of the discovery which places them completelyin my power. Farewell, parson--; I leave you to your agreeablemeditations, and to the enjoyment of a long, sound sleep!'
The miserable rector heard the sound of the ruffian's departingfootsteps; with a wild cry of anguish and despair he threw himselfagainst the iron door, which yielded not to his feeble efforts, and hesank exhausted upon the floor, in the awful conviction that he wasburied alive!
Soon the horrors of his situation increased to a ten-fold degree--for hefound himself assailed by a legion of rats. These creatures attacked himin such numbers that he was obliged to act on the defensive; and all hisexertions were scarce sufficient to keep them from springing upon him,and tearing his flesh with their sharp teeth.
To his dismay he observed that the light of the lantern was growing dimand came near to being exhausted; darkness was about to add to theterrors of the place. Nerved to desperation, though faint and sick withthe awful stench of that death vault, he searched about for some weaponwith which to end his miserable existence. While thus engaged, hestumbled over a heavy iron crowbar which lay in one corner and seizingit with a cry of joy, applied it with all his force to the door of hisloathsome prison.
It yielded--he was free! for the slab had not been replaced over thetomb, owing to the robber's inability to raise it. Falling on his knees,the rector thanked God for his deliverance; and ascending the steps,stood in the burial-ground, just as the lamps in the tomb below hadbecome extinguished.
He was about to make his way out of the grave-yard, when he heard thesound of approaching footsteps, and low voices; and just as he hadconcealed himself behind a tall tomb-stone, he saw, through the thickdarkness, two men approach the uncovered tomb from which he emerged onlya few minutes before.
''Twas fortunate I met you, Ragged Pete,' said one; 'for without youraid I never could have lifted this stone into its place; and if it wereleft in its present position, it would attract attention in the morning,and that cursed parson might be rescued from the tomb. Take hold, andlet's raise it on.'
'Werry good--but are you sure that the chap is down there still?'demanded Ragged Pete; 'hadn't we better go down and see if he hasn'ttook leg bait?'
'Pshaw, you fool!' rejoined the first speaker, angrily; 'how could heescape after I had locked him in? There's an iron door, fastened with apadlock as big as your head; so hold your tongue, and help me raise thestone to its place.'
This was done with considerable difficulty; and the two men sat down torest after their labor.
'The parson won't live over night; if he is not devoured by the rats, heis sure to be suffocated,' remarked the man who had fastened the doctorin the tomb.
'Somehow or other,' said Ragged Pete, 'whoever offends you is sure to bepunished in some dreadful and unheard-of manner. By thunder, I must tryand keep in your good graces!'
'You will do well to do so,' rejoined his companion, 'my vengeance isalways sure to overtake those who cross my path. Pete, I have led astrange life of crime and wickedness, from my very cradle, I may say, upto the present time. See, the storm is over, and the stars are shiningbrightly. It lacks several hours of daybreak; and as I feel somewhatsociably inclined, suppose I tell you my story? I have a flask of brandyin my pocket, and while we are moistening our clay, you shall listen tothe history of one whose proudest boast is, he never did a good action,but has perpetrated every enormity in the dark catalogue of crimes.'
Ragged Pete expressed his desire to hear the story; and even Dr.Sinclair, in his place of concealment, prepared to listen withattention. Probably the reader has already guessed that the robber wasno other than the terrible _Dead Man_; such was indeed the case; it wasthat same villain, who has occupied so prominent a place in the criminalportions of our narrative. We shall devote a separate chapter to hisstory.
City Crimes; Or, Life in New York and Boston Page 17
