City Crimes; Or, Life in New York and Boston

by George Thompson

  CHAPTER XXV

  _Servants' Frolics--a Footman in Luck--a Spectre--a Footman out ofLuck--the Torture--the Murder, and Destruction of Franklin House._

  We left Franklin House in charge of Simon, the favorite footman of Mrs.Franklin, who was to take care of the house until it should be sold, andthen join his mistress in Boston.

  Now, although Simon was an honorable, faithful fellow enough, he soongrew intolerably lonesome, and heartily tired of being all alone in thatgreat mansion. To beguile his time, he often invited other servants ofhis acquaintance to come and sup with him; and regardless of the ordersof his mistress, several of his visitors were females. These guests hewould entertain in the most sumptuous manner; and Franklin House becamethe scene of reckless dissipation and noisy revels, such as it hadseldom witnessed before.

  One evening Simon invited a goodly number of his friends to a 'grandbanquet,' as he pompously termed it; and there assembled in the spaciousparlor about twenty male and female domestics from various houses in theneighborhood. The males included fat butlers, gouty coachman, leanfootmen and sturdy grooms; and among the females were buxom cooks,portly laundresses and pretty ladies' maids. Simon had well nighemptied the cellar of its choice contents, in order to supply wine tohis guests; and towards midnight the party became uproarious in theextreme.

  We shall not attempt to sketch the toasts that were offered, nor thespeeches that were made; neither shall we enter too minutely into theparticulars of the game of 'hide-and-seek,' in which they indulged--ortell how our handsome footman chased some black-eyed damsel into a darkand distant chamber, and there tussled her upon the carpet, or tumbledher upon the bed, or perpetrated other little pleasantries of a similarnature. Suffice it to say, all these amusements were gone through withby the company, until tired of the sport, they reassembled in theparlor, and gathering around the fire, began to converse on ghosts.

  Reader, have you ever, at the solemn hour of midnight, while listeningto the recital of some fearful visitation from the land of spirits, feltyour hair to bristle, and your flesh to creep, and your blood to chillwith horror, as you imagined that some terrible being was at that momentstanding outside the door, ready to glide into the room and stand besideyour chair? Did you not then dread to look behind you as you drew closeto your companions, and became almost breathless with painful interestin the story?

  Solemn feeling prevailed among Simon's guests, as Toby Tunk, the fatcoachman, who had been relating his experience in ghosts uttered thefollowing words:--

  'Well, I was sitting by the coffin, looking at the corpse, when the doorslowly opened, and--'

  Toby was fearfully interrupted, for the door of that room DID slowlyopen and there entered a being of so terrible an aspect, that all theassembled guests recoiled from its presence with horror and affright. Itadvanced towards the fireplace, seated itself in an unoccupied chair,and surveyed the company with menacing eyes.

  The form of the spectre was tall, and its countenance was ghastly andawful to behold; it was enveloped in a cloak, and where its right handshould have been, was a massive piece of iron which joined the wrist.

  At length, after an interval, during which all the guests came neardying with fear, it spoke in a harsh and threatening tone:--

  'Those of ye that belong not in this house, depart instantly, on perilof your lives; and if any there be who _do_ belong here, let themremain, and stir not!'

  All, with the exception of poor Simon, tremblingly left the room and thehouse, resolved never again to cross the threshold of a place visited bysuch fearful beings. The spectre then turned to the affrightenedfootman, and said, with a hideous frown--

  'Now, rascal, tell me what has become of your mistress and herdaughter--where have they gone--speak!'

  But Simon, imagining that he had to do with a being from the otherworld, fell upon his knees and began to mutter a prayer.

  'Accursed fool!' cried the supposed spectre, striking him with his ironhand--'does _that_ feel like the touch of a shadowy ghost? Get up, andanswer me; I am no ghost, but a living man--living, though known as theDead Man. Where have the two Franklin ladies gone?'

  Now Simon, convinced that his visitor was indeed no ghost, was beginningto regain his natural shrewdness: and remembering the injunctions of hismistress, not to reveal where she had gone, with her daughter, hereplied, in accordance with the instructions which he had received--

  'The ladies have gone to Philadelphia.'

  'Liar!' cried the Dead Man--'you betray yourself; had you answered withmore hesitation, I might have believed you--the readiness of your replyproves its falsehood. Now, by hell! tell me correctly where the ladieshave gone, or I'll murder you!'

  'Not so fast, old dead face,' cried Simon, who was a brave fellow, andhad by this time recovered all his courage--'perhaps you mightn't findit so easy to murder me, as you imagine. Once for all, I'll see youd----d before I will tell you where the ladies have gone.'

  The Dead Man smiled grimly as he surveyed the slight form of thefootman; then, in a fierce tone, he demanded--

  'Are you mad?--Do you want to rush on headlong to ruin and death? Do youknow me? I am one whose awful presence inspires fear in my friends,consternation in my foes. Puny wretch, will you give me the requiredinformation, ere I crush you as a worm?'

  'No!' replied Simon, decidedly.

  'Bah! I shall have work here,' said the other, calmly: then he sprungupon the footman, who, altogether unprepared for so sudden an attack,could make but a feeble resistance, especially in the grasp of a man whopossessed more than twice his strength.

  The struggle was brief, for the Dead Man handled him as easily as if hewere a child. Soon he was gagged and bound fast to a chair;--then themiscreant, with a diabolical grin, thrust the poker into the fire, andwhen it became red-hot, he drew it forth, saying--

  'I have found a way to loosen your tongue, d----n you! When you getready to answer my question, nod your head, and the torture shallcease.'

  The monster applied the iron to various parts of his victim's body,burning through the clothes, and deep into the flesh. Simon winced withintense torture, yet he did not give the designated sign in token ofsubmission until the skin was entirely burnt from his face, by the fieryordeal.

  Then the Dead Man removed the gag from his mouth, and asked--

  'Where have the Franklin ladies gone, you infernal, obstinate fool?'

  'To Boston,' gasped the miserable young man, and fainted. Ah! Simon, thyfaithfulness to thy worthless mistress was worthy of a better cause!

  'Boston, hey?' growled the villain--'then, by G----, I must go toBoston, too. Ah, I'm not at all surprised at their selecting that cityfor their place of refuge--for it is the abode of hypocrisy and lust;and they no doubt anticipate reaping a rich harvest there. But ere Idepart for that virtuous and Christian city, I must finish my businesshere. And first to silence this fool's tongue forever!'

  He drew forth his deadly knife, and plunged it up to the hilt in hisvictim's throat. With scarce a groan or struggle, poor Simon yieldedhis spirit into the hands of his Maker.

  The murderer viewed his appalling work with satisfaction. His eyesseemed to feast upon the purple stream that gushed from the wound, andstained the carpet. It seemed as if, in the ferocity of his soul, hecould have _drank_ the gory flood!

  'Would that the human race had but one single throat, and I could cut itat a stroke,' he cried, adopting the sentiment of another: then, takinga lamp, he left the room, with the intention of exploring the house.

  One apartment he found carefully locked; and he was obliged to exert allhis strength to break in the door. This room was furnished in a style ofextravagant luxury; it was of great extent, and adorned with a multitudeof paintings and statues, all the size of life.

  A silken curtain, suspended across the further end of the room, bore inlarge gilt letters, the words 'Sanctuary of the Graces.' And behind thecurtain were collected a large number of figures, exquisitely made ofwax, representing males and females, lar
ge as life, and completely nude,in every imaginable variety of posture, a few classical, othersvoluptuous, and many positively obscene.

  In this curious apartment--a perfect gallery of amorousconceptions--Josephine and her mother were in the habit of consummatingthose intrigues which they wished to invest with extraordinary _eclat_and voluptuousness. Here they loved to feed their impure tastes bycontemplating every phase of licentious dalliance; and here theyindulged in extravagant orgies which will admit of no description.

  The intruder into this singular scene noticed a small iron apparatusattached to the wall; a sudden idea struck him--advancing, he touched aspring, and instantly every wax figure was in motion, imitating themovements of real life with wonderful fidelity! A closet in one cornercontained the machinery of these automatons; and the whole affair wasthe invention of an ingenious German, whose talents had been misappliedto its creation. It had formerly constituted a private exhibition; but,after the murder of her husband, Mrs. Franklin had purchased it at alarge cost.

  'By Satan!' cried the Dead Man--'those Franklins are ladies after my ownheart; lecherous, murderous and abandoned, they are meet companions forme. What a splendid contrivance! It needs but the additions of myselfand the superb Josephine, to render it complete!'

  He left the room, and entered an elegant bed-chamber which adjoined it.It was the chamber of Josephine; and her full-length portrait hung uponthe wall; there was her proud brow, her wanton eyes, her magnificentbust, uncovered, and seeming to swell with lascivious emotions.Everything was sumptuous, yet everything lacked that beautiful proprietywhich is so charming a characteristic of the arrangements of a virtuouswoman--one whose purity of soul is mirrored in all that surrounds her.The bed, gorgeous though it was, seemed, in its shameless disorder, tohave been a nest of riotous harlotry. Costly garments lay trampled underfoot; a bird in a golden-wired prison, was gasping and dying for want ofnourishment; splendidly-bound books, with obscene contents, werescattered here and there, and a delicate white slipper, which Cinderellamight have envied, was stuffed full with letters. The Dead Man examinedthe documents; and among them was a paper, in the handwriting ofJosephine, which we shall take the liberty of transcribing:--

  'PRIVATE JOURNAL.--'Monday. Passed last evening with Signor Pacci, the handsome Italian Opera singer. Was rather disappointed in my expectations; he is impetuous, but * * * *.'

  'Tuesday. Have just made an appointment with ---- the actor; he came to my box last night, between the acts, and made a thousand tender pretensions. _Mem._--must try and get rid of Tom the coachman--am tired of him; besides it is _outre_ to permit liberties to a menial.'

  'Thursday. Am bored to death with the persecutions of Rev. Mr. ----. I cannot endure him, he is so ugly. _Mem._--His son is a charming youth of sixteen; must try and get him.'

  'Saturday. Dreadfully provoked with mother for her disgraceful _liaison_ with her new coachman. She promised to discharge the fellow--did not perceive my drift. _Mem._--Am to admit him to-night to my chamber.'

  'Sunday. Heard Mr. ---- preach; he visits me to-night.'

  Having perused this precious _morceau_, the Dead Man thrust it into hispocket, and then, after a moment's reflection, deliberately applied theflame of the lamp to the curtains of the bed; and having waited to seethe fire fairly started, he ran rapidly down stairs, and escaped fromthe house.

  Within a quarter of an hour afterwards, Franklin House was entirelyenveloped in flames; and notwithstanding every effort was made to savethe building, it was completely destroyed. In one short hour thatmagnificent and stately pile was reduced to a heap of smoking ruins.

  The destruction of this house and the property contained in it, broughtMrs. Franklin and her daughter to absolute poverty. When the news of theevent reached them in Boston they were far from supposing that it wascaused by the hideous ruffian whom they had so much reason to fear; theyattributed the conflagration to the carelessness of Simon, and knewnothing of his having been murdered, but thought that, beingintoxicated, he had perished in the flames.

  The mother and daughter held a long consultation as to the best means ofretrieving their ruined fortunes; and the result was, they determined tosend for Sophia, in order to make use of her in a damnable plot, which,while it would supply them abundantly with cash, would forever ruin thepeace and happiness of that innocent and pure-minded girl.

  In answer to the summons, Sophia left the home of her relative in NewJersey, and joined her mother and sister in Boston. They received herwith every demonstration of affection; and little did she suspect thatan infamous scheme had been concocted between them, to sacrifice herupon the altars of avarice and lust.