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 THE DESTEOYEE. 
 
 ‘iWill you be a fool, or keep your onyu counsels?” 
 
THE 
 
 Spider and the Fly; 
 
 ^ OR, 
 
 TRICKS, TRAPS, AND PITFALLS 
 
 OF 
 
 City Life. 
 
 ONE WHO KNOWS. 
 
 “ Will you walk into my parlor ? ” said a spider to a fiy, 
 
 “ It is the prettiest parlor that ever you did spy. 
 
 The way into my parlor is up a winding stair. 
 
 And I have many pretty things to show when you are there." 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 C. MILLER & CO., PUBLISHERS. 
 
 1873 . 
 
 boston college LIBKAKX 
 CHESTNUT HILL, MASS. 
 
 W 
 
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 4 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 *'God made them lambs: we men are wolves/^ was the remark 
 of a dying debauchee to a profligate friend who was endeavor* 
 ing to assuage the former's remorse over visions of wrecks of 
 female virtue he had made, by lightly arguing that his own 
 experience should teach him that woman was all unworthy such 
 compunctions, since she was ever ready to yield herself to the 
 importunate. “ God made them lambs : we men are wolves,’" 
 was his only reply. 
 
 In the above sentence is given the philosophy of female seduc¬ 
 tion ; the secret reason why some high-toned, noble-hearted 
 women fall—they were powerless to the men they loved. 
 
 Woman is powerless to the man she loves ; but in this there 
 is nothing for him to glory over—nothing to cover her with 
 shame. It is Nature’s lavv; it is of divine appointment. Phys¬ 
 ically, he is her superior; and in judgment and firmness men¬ 
 tally so. But with her subordination comes his responsibility 
 Woman is God’s greatest trust, as well as Heaven’s best gift, to 
 man. 
 
 The most beautiful of earthly things created is woman ;’^and 
 modesty and purity are among her sweetest adornments. So 
 long as she preserves these angelic attributes, she commands the 
 esteem of the good, the respect of the bad ; but„ parting with 
 them, she is like a star changed to darkness—she falls as no 
 other created thing can fall. 
 
 Every living creature has a defence given it; and fear, timid¬ 
 ity, and shame are the natural safeguards of woman. The true 
 woman instinctively shrinks from the evil approaches of man. 
 To tlie cita del of her purity the re is but one u nwalled entrance— 
 ' She must love; she must have something to'worsfil^ 
 
 to cling to and adorn, or her earthly mission—to bless—would 
 
not be fulfilled; her very weaknesses demand that she have some 
 one to lean upon and coufide in, possessed of attribues the opposite 
 of her own—one able to sustain and protect her—and for this 
 being, when the object of her first affections, she is ever willing to 
 leave father, mother, sister, brother; to sacrifice home and the 
 world, and sometimes—too often—her heaven and her God.* 
 
 Woman, then, is as God created her—subordinate to man; 
 and he who gains and honorably and justly wears a pure wo¬ 
 man’s love, has secured to himself the greatest of earthly bless¬ 
 ings ; while he who wins only to blast and destroy, by the very 
 act so distorts his own vision that earth’s fairest flowers seem to 
 him but contemptible weeds. He curses where to bless w'ould 
 re-act upon himself, and creates in his own bosom a hell when 
 he might have drawn around himself a heaven. 
 
 3]he most blighi i pg, detestable, and leastpiinished o f^ all 
 villaIngggfEj rsvstema ticjedJUier.l’^--Hifce-th6^unkard. his appe¬ 
 tite feeds upon itself; like the foul wolf, he hunts for the mere 
 pleasure of destroying. His crimes go mostly unpunished, be¬ 
 cause exposure would but heap additional anguish upon his 
 victim’s head ; privacy and delicacy prevent the line of his guilt 
 being satisfactorily drawn, and consequently the public and the 
 law seem indifferent to his sins ; it is only when some startling 
 
 ♦ It is proper to qualify this and a previous assertion by stating that it is 
 ^ meant to apply mostly to toung women who have had but little knowledge 
 of the world—the fact that most cases of seduction occur when the man is 
 far in advance in years of his victim, goes to sustain the hypothesis pre* 
 sented. 
 
 t Base and soulless as is the deliberate seducer, there is yet one meaner 
 villain extant—the one who from malice, jealousy, or revenge, blasts the 
 reputation of an innocent girl by anonymous slander. The following is a 
 caee in point; and the cowardly scoundrel it refers to deserves, when dis¬ 
 covered, to be driven, like Matt. Ward, beyond the pale of civilized society. 
 
 “ A young lady of estimable character, who had for some months been 
 teaching the school in the Townley District, was, not long ago, discharged 
 by the trustees on account of .accusations against her virtue contained in 
 an anonymous letter received by one of their number. It has since been 
 ascertained that the charges were utterly false, but the poor girl’s reputa¬ 
 tion will probably never be entirely purged of the stains^which were thus s© 
 cruelly cast upon it.” 
 
• t 
 
 Vll 
 
 act of merited vengeance, like to the Beauchamp or Heberton 
 tragedy, proving by its very desperation that a deep, foul, pre¬ 
 meditated wrong has been perpetrated, and at which, as in the 
 latter case, the people and the press cry out, “TAe argument is 
 conclusive; justice, not law, for the actors,^* that society is enabled 
 to vindicate itself as the willing punisher of Virtue’s destroyer, 
 and judicial authority, unavoidably blind to the first outrage, is 
 forced with seeming reluctance to overlook the second. 
 
 Death is a punishment for the murderer ; the Penitentiary for 
 the mutilator of another’s body; the State Prison for the robber 
 and burglar ; and imprisonment for whoever obtains goods un¬ 
 der false pretences. What, then, does that man deserve who, 
 under honorable pretences, intrudes himself upon the domestic 
 circle—casts his toils around its brightest ornaments—deceives, 
 crushes, and marks with a shameful, indelible stain a father’s 
 hope and mother’s pride; who, for the gratification of an idle 
 hour, destroys what has cost others geai’s of toil and solicitude 
 to rear; and sends forth to curse the world one who otherwise 
 might have passed a happy, useful existence ? 
 
 Manifestly the seducer’s crime equals all the above-named 
 combined ; and equally evident is it, that if legislation cannot 
 satisfactorily reach and commensurately punish the seducer, 
 neither will public opinion at this time suffer the law to deal 
 harshly with the man who avenges a daughter’s or a sister’s 
 wrongs, when Ihe circumstances of the case unmistakably evince 
 the chastisement is just. No jury can be found to convict so 
 unhappy, so unfortunate an offender, so long as it remains evi¬ 
 dent that Fear, not of public justice, but of private i-etribution, 
 is, as noAv, almost the sole safeguard of society against that un¬ 
 principled ravager of domestic peace, the Systematic Seducer. 
 
 The Heberton case, above referred to,*justifies this assertion ; 
 Heberton was a wealthy rou6 —a professed debauchee ; and pub¬ 
 licly boasted of his triumph over one particular victim, a school 
 girl, and daughter of a Avealthy Philadelphia merchant; the fa¬ 
 ther demanded marriage to cover the offence, and the brother 
 threatened death as the alternative of refusal. Heberton laughed 
 
■viii 
 
 them to scorn, at first; but afterwards, becoming intimidated, 
 secreted himself, and in attempting to escape to a vessel bound 
 for Europe, was met in his carriage on board the ferry boat, and 
 shot dead by the avenging brother; the latter immediately sur¬ 
 rendered himself, was soon tried, and the jury acquitted him ; 
 the crowds which thronged the court house and the adjacent 
 streets endorsing the verdict with loud cheers,’and the press 
 throughout the country sustaining the righteous judgment. 
 
 The other affair referred to had a different termination; not, 
 as the'writer believes, because the seducer was less guilty in the 
 eyes of the community, than Heberton, but principally because 
 Beauchamp stooped to secret assassination, instead of openly 
 and boldly challenging the world to witness the deed, and thus, 
 as it were, throwing himself upon its judgment and its mercy. 
 
 Col. Sharp, in 1826 , Attorney-General of Kentucky, a man of 
 prepossessing manners and winning address, was the seducer of 
 Miss Cooke, an orphan girl, universally admired, until her mis¬ 
 fortune universally respected, (even then heartily pitied,) and as 
 the sequel shows, possessed of qualities which, under a more 
 favorable initiation, would have made her worthy the hand of 
 any hero. 
 
 Some time after this circumstance became public, Beauchamp, 
 then a student at law, and a generous, noble-hearted, impetuous 
 young man, incited by a chivalrous feeling, sought out Miss 
 Cooke at the plantation to which she had retired to bury herself 
 from the world, and though then but nineteen, took upon him¬ 
 self the task of avenging her wrongs, at that time the theme of 
 every tongue. 
 
 He managed to obtain a private interview with Col. Sharp at 
 the river’s side; announced himself as the avenger whom Miss 
 Cooke had promised Col. Sharp when she last forbade him her 
 presence, should some day confront him; challenged him to 
 fight; and when words could not provoke Col. Sharp to select 
 weapons with which to defend himself, Beauchamp struck him 
 in the face, and finally kicked the coward from the field. Col. 
 Sharp protested he could not fight in such a cause ; he studiously 
 
IX 
 
 avoided Beauchamp, and in no possible way could the latter in¬ 
 cite him to an encounter. 
 
 Three or four years after their first interview, Beauchamp 
 married Miss Cooke; and even at that date so strong was the 
 public sentiment against Col. Sharp, and so much was he an¬ 
 noyed by it, that in the hope to allay its force he had the temer¬ 
 ity to commit a greater outrage almost than the first, by origi¬ 
 nating a story that the birth of a certain negro child furnished 
 unmistakeable evidence that he could not have been guilty of the 
 crime towards Miss Cooke that he was charged with. The 
 bounds of human endurance were then passed, and Col. Sharp’s 
 fate sealed. 
 
 Beauchamp and his wife now resolved to delay retribution no 
 longer ; but the happy life—tinged but by one bitter thought— 
 which they had latterly been leading, made earthly existence 
 sweet; and though Beauchamp would have willingly sacrificed 
 his life on the altar of his own and his wife’s injured honor, she 
 who had once made him swear to avenge her wrongs, as the 
 price of her hand—who had pleaded that so long as Col. Sharp 
 lived she could not feel worthy to become his wife—now, with a 
 true woman’s affection, made him again vow not to expose his 
 life to the law for the sake of a cowardly wretch who fled his 
 presence, and* basely shrunk from giving him any chance what¬ 
 ever for satisfaction or redress. 
 
 And here was the great mistake which no after Roman firm¬ 
 ness or sacrifice on their part could retrieve ; the world detests 
 the skulking assassin, but in its secret heart applauds whoever 
 with sufficient motive rids it of a tyrant or social monster, and 
 who, by going to judgment along with his victims, as did the Sam¬ 
 son of Scripture, or by surrendering themselves to certain death, 
 as did Charlotte Corday, prove Conclusively to the world that it 
 was no petty personal malice, or hope of earthly advantage that 
 incited them to the deed. 
 
 Beauchamp killed Col. Sharp; calling him to his door, late at 
 night, showing him his face, and then striking so sure a blow 
 that he died instantly; and though so well had Beauchamp 
 
 « 
 
X 
 
 planned everything to escape detection, that nothing but perjury 
 could link out a chain of even circumstantial evidence against 
 him, yet so powerful and unscrupulous were the friends of Col. 
 Sharp, that he was convicted of murder, and died upon the gal¬ 
 lows ; his wife perished by her own hand on the same day as 
 her husband, (in fact was dying and insensible as he quitted 
 her side,) and was buried in the same grave with him. And 
 however deplorable this termination to their sad career, and 
 however questionable the commission of suicide, under any cir¬ 
 cumstances whatever, the last two acts of this terrible drama 
 seem essential to evince to the world that Col. Sharp was worthy 
 of his fate, and his victim of her husband’s devotion. At all 
 events, the case presents a moral we are bound to profit by ; but 
 not without paying a tribute to the courage and constancy, to 
 the touching devotion to each other of the least censurable of 
 those who furnished this costly bequest, and a prayer to that 
 Tribunal which is alone competent to weigh their sins that their 
 errors may be mercifully dealt with. 
 
 And what is this moral ? First, that seduction, murder, suicide, 
 and legal homicide all resulted, in this case, as they may in others, 
 not altogether from the want of principle on the part of the man, 
 but as much, perhaps, from lack of knowledge of her own danger and 
 weaknesses, on the part of the woman; and second, that woman 
 may suffer the greatest of wrongs, and still be worthy not only 
 of our pity but our respect—that there is a vast difference be¬ 
 tween the voluntarily fallen and the cast down —for though we 
 may seldom have hopes of the one, it is unjust and unrea¬ 
 sonable to lack faith in the other. 
 
 The importance and the truth of these two points it will be 
 the principal object of this book to evince ; but mainly the first, 
 for the obvious reason that 
 
 The prevention of evil is always better than the cure. 
 
 0 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 Foreign Counts and Native Ninnies. 
 
 As our shop and factory girls are carried away by romantic 
 visions of future husbands in the form of young M. C.’s and 
 Southern planters, so are the daughters of our nabobs be-crazed 
 by the presence of pseudo-Polish Counts and other foreign whis- 
 kerandos. 
 
 The success these adventurers meet with upon the purses of our 
 men, as well as upon the virtue and sometimes hand and fortunes 
 of our women, is both astonishing and mortifying; and the only 
 consolation an American feels when contemplating this weakness 
 of his countrymen, is in the thought that no nation is free from 
 a sprinkling of native-born fools, and that the dupes here to 
 the shallow artifices of these genteel impostors, are confined to 
 our would-be or cod-fish aristocracy, who often thus meet a right¬ 
 eous return for their silly attempts to raise themselves above their 
 fellow republicans on the sole strength of aeres and dollars. 
 
 At the date of the issue of this publication, the De R—e scan¬ 
 dal is too fresh in the minds of the public to admit of a repetition 
 of its details being very interesting; still, as our books are in¬ 
 tended to be, in an humble way (through depicting some features 
 in society not usually noted) an advantage to future historians as 
 well ps the present generation, it is but fitting that we give a 
 concise history of this remarkable affair, presenting it in the latest 
 phase the most recent information moulds it, and adding thereto 
 some comments which may serve to enlighten and put more 
 effectually on their guard the wives and daughters (yes, and 
 husbands and fathers themselves) of our moneyed aristocracy; and 
 if any deem it cruel that this unhappy case should be incorporated 
 in our works, we can only say, that it is already patent to the 
 public, and that it is altogether too peculiar, marked and instruct¬ 
 ive a case of successful imposition, to be either ignored or covertly 
 dealt with; the public should have the full benefit of its teach- 
 
FOREIGN PUPPIES. 
 
 “Kadog enter your parlor, kick him out I” 
 
13 
 
 ings, and the chief actor the notoriety he merits, and perhaps 
 craves. 
 
 Whatever may have been said to the contrary, there is little if 
 any doubt but De E—e was a Captain of Zouaves in the French 
 army, and served with some distinction before Sebastopol; and 
 as little doubt too, that he was a dissipated spendthrift, discarded 
 by his family, and forced by debt, or poverty, or both, to leave 
 France, from which country he came to this, with a view of en¬ 
 gaging in the Central American wars; in short, he came to 
 America a penniless “soldier of fortune,” ready, as the sequel 
 shows, to fiUibuster in the most advantageous way that should 
 present itself. 
 
 Among the effects—more or less—which the gallant Zouave 
 brought over with him was a woman—who had been living with 
 him, after the fashion of his country, as his wife; whatever the 
 circumstances which led this party to place herself under his pro¬ 
 tection, report speaks of her as a very intelligent, lady-like per¬ 
 son ; and the fact that De E—e was married to her, after her 
 arrival here, evinces that she possessed no small degree of merit 
 even in his consideration; and this circumstance might redound 
 to his credit had not his after course shown that he did not hesi¬ 
 tate to deliberately sacrifice this woman or a later victim, to his 
 passions or his necessities; but in fact it does not at all conduce 
 to his credit, since in either case, it was but a French marriage, 
 the non-committal character of which we shall presently show, 
 and which in fact forms the great point of the moral we are labor¬ 
 ing to educe from this narrative. 
 
 At New York, where he first landed, De E—e for some time 
 led an obscure life; but having by some means got himself pub¬ 
 licly endorsed by a score of citizens of high reputation, including, 
 if we mistake not, Gen. Sandford and the Messrs. Harper, he 
 contrived to make some headway in society, and even appeared 
 before the public, with considerable success, as a lecturer. But 
 his income did not keep pace with his expenditures, and at last, 
 when fortune seemed to have failed him altogether, he applied for 
 and obtained a conditional engagement to serve under Gen. Hen- 
 ningsen, in a (at that time) new expedition of Walker’s, and left 
 for the rendezvous of Henningsen’s corjps d'armee in the South. 
 
M 
 
 As the world knows, that corps d'armee never had a chance to 
 smell powder; and De E—e led as idle a life in Mobile as he had 
 for a time in New York; but during these leisure hours his brain 
 was not idle, and fortune and a bullet aided him in carrying out 
 the scheme which has rendered his name so notorious, and en¬ 
 titled him to “a first-rate notice” in our “Tricks and Traps” of 
 large cities. 
 
 It seems his offensive swagger provoked the indignation of a 
 sagacious Southerner, wko pronounced him a chevalier dHndvstrie, 
 and the indignant Zouave challenged the offender at once to bat¬ 
 tle. Our American was not, however, frightened at the prospect 
 of meeting the Malakoff hero, nor did his nerves fail him upon 
 the field of battle; on the contrary, if report does not belie the 
 facts of the case, the steady hand of the Southerner planted his 
 first shot directly in the coat-breast of the Frenchman, where it 
 was stopped hy a secret coat of mail. The Georgian, not satisfied 
 with this result, on the second fire aimed direct at the Zouave’s 
 face, and notwithstanding the brazen character of its coating, 
 the ball perforated his check, and De E—e fell to the earth; not 
 altogether dissatisfied with this result, however, was he, reader, as 
 he had arranged for himself a very comfortable berth in the event 
 of such a contingency, and like a Eussian, was prepared to turn 
 defeat into victory, though in another direction. In fact, so 
 opportune was this shot, so favorably did it affect his desperate 
 fortunes, that some mean persons have even insinuated that this 
 contest was but a copy of the encounters which our pickpockets 
 sometimes get up at steamboat landings, in which the combatants 
 stand hard knocks, and real bloody noses, in order the more effect¬ 
 ually to draw a crowd, facilitate their operations, and enlarge 
 their dividends. 
 
 Be this as it may, De E—e had, previously to this affair, made 
 the acquaintance of the lady of a very wealthy citizen in the 
 vicinity of Mobile, to whom (in view of his riches and his ob¬ 
 tuseness to the dangerous character of his then occasional guest) 
 we shall give the not inappropriate cognomen of Blunt; and on 
 his way to the battle-field, the gallant Zouave called upon this 
 lady, to beg of her the hospitality of a decent burial service in 
 case he should be killed, or due care and attendance should he be 
 
 
only mortally wounded; and so overcome was she by his descrip¬ 
 tion of his castle by some lake of Co-mo, or No-go, that no after 
 events, however disenchanting their nature, have been able to 
 fade in the least the sweet vision from her memory; what more 
 was said need not be written; suffice to state that the lady eagerly 
 engaged to see to the execution of the French nobleman's last will 
 and testament, or whatever else he "wished, and as romantic 
 events followed as the most enthusiastic romancer could desire— 
 the expatriated nobleman was wounded, he bled, he fainted, Im 
 was taken to the lady’s husband’s mansion, tenderly cared for 
 and nursed, restored to health, and to requite the kindness thus 
 bestowed upon him, he fell, or pretended to fall in love with her— 
 daughter; who, whether impelled by her mother’s ambitious 
 views, or by her own feelings, returned earnestly his real or pre¬ 
 tended passion. 
 
 Had Capt. De R—e stopped here all might have been well; 
 but he was not content with a mere Platonic love, nor could he 
 stay in his friend Blunt’s house forever—no! not even long enough 
 to receive most desirable remittances from his large estates in 
 France; so his only alternative was, to seize the game he had in 
 hand, and make off with it; this he did by eloping with Miss 
 Blunt, and with the aid of Mrs. Blunt’s purse (the circumstances 
 render this inference unavoidable), taking her to Havanna, then to 
 New York, and finally to Hoboken; where the mother joined 
 them, and the father soon found them. 
 
 Mr. Blunt at once commenced legal proceedings against De R—e ; 
 the grounds of action being, the abduction of his child and the 
 stealing of the clothing she took with her; but, alas! whether it 
 is because the weaker sex have no voice in framing the laws 
 which should protect their dearest interests, or whether, as some 
 aver, the very class who make the laws, have most selfish inter¬ 
 ests in framing such as are of little account, certain is it that in 
 this case the injured parent could obtain no redress—all he did 
 obtain was his daughter, with whom, and her mother, he, after 
 much trouble, delay and expense, succeeded in taking homeward 
 with him. But his troubles were not yet over, the desperate 
 soldier of fortune followed him, and overtook the party at Savan- 
 
16 
 
 nah, and again the matter was brought before the courts, and 
 De E,—e again arrested. 
 
 It here came to the knowledge of the father, that De R—e had 
 actually been married to his daughter, and that she had traveled 
 with him as his wife. The captain had all along averred that his 
 marriage with the transatlantic lady, though consummated here, 
 was merely what we shall style a French tie^ that is, the conditions 
 of the laws of France bearing upon such cases (and which are, that 
 to be binding, all marriages shall be published in France, and the 
 consent of the parent first obtained) not having been complied 
 with, the marriage was null and void. So the noble-minded cap¬ 
 tain had but to return to Paris, and take Miss Blunt with him, 
 (for his second marriage was just as much of a French tie as the« 
 first), publish his intent of marriage, get Pa’s and Ma’s consent, 
 have the knot retied, and in this way the whole matter would be 
 legally settled. 
 
 Settled at all events it was; for to the astonishment of all out¬ 
 siders, Mr. Blunt suddenly declared himself satisfied, De R—e 
 declared himself satisfied, and every body being now satisfied but 
 the public—who cannot understand, despite this new theory of 
 French tie, why avowed bigamists cannot and should not be 
 punished—the Blunt family went on to Mobile, and the gallant 
 Zouave returned to New York, apparently as empty-handed as 
 when he set out. 
 
 But our hero’s triumph did not end here; one would have sup¬ 
 posed that when this unprincipled adventurer got so far into 
 the land of chivalry as Savannah, he would have met with his 
 deserts; that the outraged father would have settled the affair and 
 the Zouave at one and the same time, or that some chivalric son 
 of the South would have done it for him; but no! notwithstand¬ 
 ing De R—e picked his teeth with his saber, sprinkled powder 
 openly on his meat, and took snuff from his pistol-barrel, declaring 
 aloud all the time (according to the Savannah Republican), that 
 fighting was a mere pastime to liim; that he would be happy to 
 meet any gentleman upon the merits of this question, and would 
 even wait over a steamer to accommodate such a party, not a 
 Georgian raised a hand save to applaud him, and he quitted the 
 field with all his colors flying. 
 
 
17 
 
 "We have here the spectacle of a foreign adventurer deceiving 
 and outraging a respectable American family, and escaping all 
 punishment therefor, because the law could not reach him, and be¬ 
 cause there was none but a peaceable, gray-liaired citizen, directly 
 obligated to protect the injured—nay, more; virtually declaring 
 that he would stop the breath of any man who presumed to ques¬ 
 tion his conduct or his motives, and meeting with no response. 
 
 Now, we are not in favor of dueling, particulary of ven¬ 
 turing the life of a good citizen against that of a worthless adven¬ 
 turer, and especially when the inequality of the thing is made 
 more so from the latter being a professor of arms; but we do say 
 that a man of the stamp we have just depicted should be kicked 
 out of every decent citizen’s dwelling the moment he is found 
 in it, and if one pair of boots are not enough to “bell the cat,” 
 the proprietor should borrow of his guests or his neighbors; and 
 this brings us to record a slightly similar case, in which the 
 offender received the treatment we now advocate, and leads us to 
 say: “ If you find a dog in your parlor kick him out.” 
 
 During the winter of 1857-8, the niece of a Mr. C-, a cele¬ 
 
 brated banker of Washington, was much annoyed by Don M., 
 an attache of the Spanish legation, who made a practice of follow¬ 
 ing her very impertinently and offensively, through the streets of 
 the capital. Upon hearing of this, the banker expressed his 
 opinion of the Don’s conduct, to the face of that gentleman; and 
 probably did so with all the frankness and severity the case de¬ 
 served. Dor the language thus used the Don demanded an apol¬ 
 ogy ; which the banker very consistently declined to give. The 
 Spaniard then waxed wroth, and gave notice of a challenge; 
 which circumstance soon became noised abroad, and the banker’s 
 daughter, in her anxiety for her father’s safety, sent the Spaniard 
 a note, requesting an interview, in the hope of securing an amica¬ 
 ble settlement of the difficulty. 
 
 The Don accepted the invitation and kept the appointment; but 
 with a due regard to his personal safety, took a six-shooter in his 
 pocket, and left a friend outside who was to call for the police, or 
 other help, should danger chance to threaten his principal. 
 
 At this moment the banker was dining with a U. S. Senator 
 whose^mansion adjoined his own, and on© of his servants entered 
 
18 
 
 to state that a man of suspicious appearance was prowling about 
 the banker’s dwelling. Attended by the Senator, Mr. C. passed 
 into the hall of his own house, where he met his daughter; and 
 from the entry to the picture-gallery, where by the light of the 
 entry-lamp they discovered a man under the piano. 
 
 Seizing the intruder by the collar, the banker dragged him from 
 his hiding-place, and discovered him to be no less a person than 
 the Spanish attache; with a desire to tender him the gentlemanly 
 courtesy which the occasion and circumstances (as then under¬ 
 stood by Mr. C.) seemed to indicate as most fitting, the indignant 
 father kicked the intruder out of the room and into the street, his 
 friend, the Senator, having kindly taken and supported the Don’s 
 pistol during this operation. 
 
 Rendered furious by this treatment, and the comments the pub¬ 
 lic made thereon, a few days after the Spaniard made a desperate 
 assault upon the banker, as that gentleman was quietly and 
 peaceably entering his dwelling; approaching him from behind, 
 until only some ten feet separated them, and exerting nearly his 
 whole strength he pitched his glove at the unheeding American, 
 and immediately followed up this advantage by drawing off, ex¬ 
 hibiting a pistol, and in excited tones urging Mr. 0. to “shoot,” 
 “shoot,” “shoot.” 
 
 Mr. C. was for a moment confounded by the singularity of this 
 proceeding, but recovering, and dinner awaiting him, he simply 
 threatened the Don with the calaboose, and entered his own 
 dwelling. Subsequently to this, Don M. sent several challenges 
 to the banker, and followed him to New York, where he was 
 threatened with expulsion from the hotel at which Mr. C. was 
 stopping, in consequence of his many annoyances. 
 
 Some may assert that Don M. having been invited to the house 
 of the banker by one of the family, was entitled to a chance for 
 explanation before being summarily ejected; but the Spaniard 
 well knew the estimation in which Mr. C. held him; beside, his 
 position under the piano indicated a meanness of motives or of 
 character, which entitled him to just the treatment lie received. 
 No man, whatever the circumstances, can assume such a come- 
 kick-me position, without an assured expectation that boot-toes 
 will take the hint and be after him. 
 
19 
 
 So again we say, If a dog enter your parlor kick him ouV' 
 
 Impostors of this stamp sometimes have the tables turned upon 
 them; a case in point in which woman’s wit was triumphant, is 
 that of the “ Count ” De Moreto. 
 
 . This Moreto was one of the greatest villains that ever went un¬ 
 hung ; his father was a merchant in Chili; Moreto once undertook 
 to raise an insurrection there; and was driven out of Valparaiso 
 by a gentleman whose sister he had decoyed, and who sought 
 his life. 
 
 He first made his appearance at Boston, where he remained 
 about a year. His insinuating manners introduced him among 
 some of the first families of that staid city, and he obtained a 
 large class of pupils as a teacher of modern languages. His pupils 
 were chiefly ladies, and he gained the affections of several of 
 them. His operations in this direction it is not proper for us to 
 state; they were what might be expected of a man of his char¬ 
 acter. 
 
 While in Boston he excited quite a sensation and much sym¬ 
 pathy, by reporting that his room had been robbed, and the cir¬ 
 cumstance was largely noticed in its journals. It is enough to 
 say that the “ robbery ” was entirely fictitious, existing only in 
 the fertile imagination of his Donship. The consequence of this 
 unfortunate affair was that he was unable to pay his board, 
 amounting to $300. He boarded at a respectable private house 
 and, like De B—e, had his mistress with liim, an Irish lady of 
 good family, whom he had seduced, and who passed at the house, 
 as his wife. Of course the board of both was a dead loss to the 
 innocent landlady. 
 
 He was several times detected in the act of stealing watches 
 and jewelry from the families of his pupils, and at last stole a 
 watch from the wife of a Boston lawyer, which closed his career 
 in that city. He was arrested for this theft at Portland, Me., and 
 put in irons, but out of compassion the lawyer let him go, not 
 knowing of how deep villainy the man was capable. 
 
 He was baffled at his own game—sold—after this fashion. A 
 lady who had been intimate with the fascinating teacher of lan¬ 
 guages, discovered that he was not “all her fancy painted” 
 him, and determined to punish him for his unparalleled impudence 
 
20 
 
 and self-conceit. Accordingly, she wrote Moreto a letter, pur¬ 
 porting to come from a married lady, in which she said that she 
 was deeply enamored of him, had heard of his misfortunes in 
 Chili, “ loved him for the dangers he had passed,” and was willing 
 and able to relieve him pecuniarily, and would do so personally, 
 as soon as her husband left for Europe—naming the time. 
 
 With this missive the self-enamored Don posted to the lady who 
 had written it, exhibited it to her as evidence of his prowess among 
 the fair sex, and as an example of the love the ladies “ couldn’t 
 help” offering up at his shrine. 
 
 “Will you accept the offer and meet her?” said his fair querist. 
 “Ah, no, it is impossible—^let them languish, if they must love 
 me, for I cannot love them all.” Nevertheless, the self-sufficient 
 illustrissimo sent an answer to the note, which produced a reply, 
 and the time when the unknown should visit him was fully agreed 
 upon. 
 
 He showed the letter to a gentleman into whose confidence he 
 had wormed himself, and to whom he was largely indebted; and 
 the latter, thinking he saw a tangible way of getting his money 
 back, entered eagerly into the scheme, and advanced the Don 
 money to purchase furniture wherewith to furnish gorgeously a 
 suite of rooms in which he was to receive his fair inamorata. The 
 day came, and the noble but unfortunate foreigner, installed in 
 state in his splendid apartments, awaited the arrival of the lady 
 and the lucre. 
 
 The lady did not come; but in her place appeared a note, in 
 which she said that it was impossible for her to meet him at the 
 time appointed, but that she could perform her promise so far as 
 the money was concerned. Inclosed was a three-ceni piece ! The 
 rueful countenance of the chop-fallen Don we leave to the imagin¬ 
 ation of our readers. 
 
 After his departure from Boston, we hear of him at Washing¬ 
 ton, and next in Chicago. The details of his operations there we 
 may give in another work; suffice it for the present to say that 
 he most outrageously humbugged the fashionables of that smart 
 young city; and those credulous people who still fondly hope that 
 liis Donship will return anH carry out his splendid Highland Park 
 fete, may be assured that they are “hoping against hope;” no 
 
21 
 
 more ■will the “ Count’s ” distingue form and elegant mustache 
 delight the denizens of the avenues—he is gone; may they never 
 look upon his like again. 
 
 By the above it ‘will be seen that these impostors are sometimes 
 sustained in their nefarious operations by men to -whom they have 
 become indebted; 'we kno^w of eases "where the business has been 
 entered into as a regular speculation; not in every case for the 
 fortune the victim promised to bring into the conspirators’ hands 
 through marriage with the chief actor, but sometimes simply for 
 black mail purposes. 
 
 We cannot better close this chapter than by the following verses 
 from the London “Punch.” 
 
 You ladies of the verdant class, 
 
 Soft, sentimental souls, 
 
 Beware of foreign snobs, who pass 
 For noble exiled Poles. 
 
 Oh! dote not on their raven hair. 
 
 Their lean and hungry maws. 
 
 Their bushy chins, their tragic air, 
 
 And sallow lantern jaws. 
 
 The heart beneath that seedy vest. 
 
 But not beneath a shirt, 
 
 With sordid feelings is possessed ; 
 
 Well matched with outer dirt. 
 
 He wants your money not your hand. 
 
 In seeking you for wife ; 
 
 He rather, durst he, would demand 
 Your money or your life. 
 
 Count, indeed !—count your spoons when he 
 Has been to make a call; 
 
 And very fortunate you’ll be 
 If you should find them all. 
 
 But better were it with your plate 
 The fellow should depart. 
 
 Than in his power get your estate 
 By stealing, first, your heart. 
 
SKY-PAKLOE, NOBILITY. 
 
 ** Let them languish, I cannot love them all.” 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 School Girls; Parlor Serpents; Carpet Bandits. 
 
 The wife-hunters, bigamists, and seducers which thrive among 
 our upper classes, are by no means confined to foreigners. The 
 superficial education, the servile adoration of fashion and atten¬ 
 tion to the shows and frivolities of fashionable life, which charac¬ 
 terize certain phases of society in our large cities, necessarily give 
 rise to a host of idlers, who, in some way or other make a living 
 out of them. The field is a large one, and is open to all who 
 have the address to exploit it. 
 
 The advantage which the European adventurer has over the 
 native American roue is, that he sometimes dazzles by his false 
 titles; and his antecedents being the more difficult to reach, he 
 can operate longer and more extensively on his borrowed or as¬ 
 sumed capital. It is no disgrace to be a foreigner; or, being a 
 foreigner, to marry an American woman. On the contrary, it is 
 frequently an evidence of honorable intentions, approved merit, 
 and good sense. Providing it be not a mere exchange of wealth 
 for rank or “blood,” we approve of intermarriages between our 
 own people and those of other nations, particularly of the mother 
 country; it is the only species of cousin-ing (cozen-ing) our works 
 will indorse, and we say this much, that we may be understood 
 as not wishing to prejudice our countrymen or countrywomen 
 against worthy foreigners. 
 
 Wife-stealing and seduction, then, are not in this country of alien 
 growth, as we shall proceed to prove; and in doing this faithfully, 
 we shall be obliged to show up as great a degree of heartlessness 
 and meanness on the part of our own countrymen as was ever 
 exhibited by the men of any civilized nation whatever. 
 
24 
 
 While the temptations of wealth on the one hand, and the 
 pressure of poverty upon the other, lead on females of the lower 
 classes to destruction, the daughters of the wealthy are not with¬ 
 out their perils, in the form of too great leisure, unhealthy ex¬ 
 citements of the theatre and ball-room, injurious books, and un¬ 
 profitable companions—and to this must be added, ignorance of 
 their own susceptibility, and (as a consequence) of their constant 
 exposure to evil. 
 
 Of the instances of seduction among the higher classes, probably 
 four-fifths either occur to females between the ages of fifteen and 
 eighteen years, or may be directly traced to the undermining of 
 their purity, brought about at that period of their lives. This 
 time covers the latter portion of their school days, and their 
 preparation for, and entrance into, society. If, then, this portion 
 of her life is so dangerous to a young lady, the question naturally 
 arises as to why it is so; ^nd the solution of the same must mani¬ 
 festly be looked for in herself, and in the character of her teachings 
 and surroundings. 
 
 At the age of fifteen, the child begins to bud into the woman, 
 and her feelings and imagination are keenly alive to all outward 
 impressions; self-assurance begins to set in, and she commences 
 to think and act for herself, and to confide more in her mates than 
 her parents; curiosity and tattle are natural to her, and nothing 
 is so exciting to her sex as scandal, and unless her companions 
 are very choice and pure-minded, she soon becomes familiar with 
 all the details of intrigue and evil. 
 
 It is just at this time that she begins to study, or at least to 
 read and understand the classics; music, poetry, and mythology 
 now open to her a new and delightful world, and every thing 
 about her seems bright and harmless. It is now that pestilential 
 novels, and the talk of unprofitable companions, exert their cor¬ 
 rupting influences upon her. She devours the sensation stories 
 of the flash papers, and the police reports and scan-mag of the 
 daily journals. Byron; and often Eugene Sue, are covertly her 
 daily companions; while a portion of her studies, and sometimes 
 unprincipled teachers, help her forward on the road to evil; 
 most classical studies abound with cases of illicit love, detailed in 
 the most flowery and seductive language; and their tendency is, 
 
25 
 
 to inflame the passions of the young, and to open the door as it 
 were to the approach of the evil-doer. What more could any 
 libertine ask than the frequent opportunity of reading and dis¬ 
 cussing the Hiad of Homer, with his intended victim; or to sit by 
 her side, with the guitar, or at the piano, and instruct her to sing 
 with feeling and effect the “ Drink to me only” of Philostratus, or 
 the “ Come rest in this bosom” of Tom Moore. 
 
 How ignorant parents are of what constitutes a finished educa¬ 
 tion. The lack of the capping-stone, “ Know thyself,” often leaves 
 the edifice in just a condition to be finished by the destroyer. 
 With all her regard for her daughter, how much more the fashion¬ 
 able mother thinks of her child appearing well than of her doing 
 well; thousands of dollars are expended as a tribute to the god 
 of fashion, scarce an hour to instruct her in the art of self-defence; 
 she is taught to make conquests, not to guard against the traitor 
 which may lie hid within her own breast. To talk, dance, sing, 
 play and dress to perfection, and be able to create a sensation, are 
 the great points aimed at; and -thus a creature of taste and 
 beauty, knowing well her powers of fascination, and anxious to 
 exercise them, goes forth into the world, to excite the envy and 
 malice ^f her own sex, and to encounter men possessed of powers 
 equal to her own, and with this advantage over her, that they 
 have experience, and while she can but dazzle, they can destroy. 
 
 It is painful to witness the entree of a beautiful and talented 
 young lady to the fashionable world of Hew York city, at the 
 present day, and reflect upon the dangers that await her. Her 
 parents, friends, and her own pride, act as safeguards; but she is 
 at an age when love is the great business of life, and both her 
 heart and her instincts prompt her to love; and this love, which 
 should be pure and single, is, through the bad examples about her, 
 and the pernicious sentiments which are whispered into her ears, 
 constantly in danger of becoming a matter of the passions rather 
 than the affections, and coquetry and conquest, rather than a 
 worthy husband and a position of usefulness, become the aim of 
 her existence; and when the latter are lost sight of, her danger 
 is imminent; French ideas of life creep into her mind; she con¬ 
 ceives she has but to enjoy life wota, and marry whenever it be¬ 
 comes necessary to secure a home. 
 
26 
 
 When women are so educated as to fall into this way of thinks 
 ing and acting, is it any wonder that De Revi^res flourish or 
 that Sickles cases abound? And when husbands and fathers not 
 only permit but even invite notorious libertines to enter their 
 dwellings, should they not be held, in part, accountable for the 
 disgrace which these parlor-serpents so often inflict upon their 
 families ? 
 
 Of all follies in the world, no greater is committed than when a 
 professional or business man, or any man whose duties call him 
 from home all the day and half the night, marries a young, beau¬ 
 tiful, and fashionably-educated young woman, and then leaves her 
 time upon her hands, to be used up as she can best occupy it. 
 A, man who makes money or ambition the chief aim of his ex¬ 
 istence, and is resolved to sacrifice all to such aims, has no right 
 to take to himself a wife; for a wife has a first claim to the com¬ 
 panionship of her husband; it is his duty to comfort, cherish, and 
 protect her; any other condition is unnatural, and productive of 
 unnatural results. The following case will illustrate this point. , 
 
 In 184*7 a very wealthy gentleman named Drugman married a 
 Mississippi belle and took her to the city of New Orleans, where 
 he embarked largely in trade; business soon engrossed almost 
 all of his time and mind, still he was very fond of his wife, and 
 supplied all her wants lavishly; but her love of fashion, dress, 
 and display became inordinate, and caused him great inconve¬ 
 nience and unhappiness. She acquired no taste for domestic life, 
 for home was not made attractive to her, and so her husband’s in¬ 
 fluence soon passed away, and he could not put any restraint upon 
 her, for an assumed or real ill health prevented his entertaining 
 any suspicions of her fidelity. 
 
 As a matter of course. New Orleans, Newport, and Saratoga 
 soon presented too small a field for the swing of this vain woman; 
 she must see Paris; and having persuaded her husband that she 
 was suftering under a complication of diseases common to females, 
 the good man took her to the profligate capital of France, 
 where, after placing her in charge of a very respectable American 
 family, and securing for her the services of the most noted Parisian 
 physicians, he left her, to return home and devote himself to mak¬ 
 ing money, which she was to devote to making him miserable. 
 
27 
 
 Left to herself, with plenty of means at command, she directly 
 set about creating a sensation, and became at once a mark for one 
 of those most despicable of all fortune-hunters, a carpet bandit— 
 one of those mean-souled villains who, too cowardly to rob men, 
 exploit upon women, by artfully leading them into Uasons, for the 
 express purpose of afterward begging, borrowing, stealing, or 
 blackmailing a living off them, and who sometimes have half a 
 dozen different women, as it were by the throat, fleecing them all 
 roundly, and never quitting their hold of a victim so long as she 
 can command a dollar. 
 
 The hero in the present case was an American and New York 
 
 fashionable, by the name of F-ss, whose mother and sister had 
 
 long been acquaintances of Mr. Drugman. This fellow, being 
 out of funds, and doubtless having received instructions from 
 Parisian scoundrels, fastened himself upon Mrs. D., and, with con¬ 
 summate art and perseverance, succeeded in gaining a perfect 
 mastery over his victim; and not only lived upon her for a year 
 in Paris, but upon her leaving France, followed her and her hus¬ 
 band to America, stopping at the same hotels in New York, Phila¬ 
 delphia, and New Orleans, drawing upon her purse all the time, 
 and forcing her to sacrifice her jewmls to satisfy his demands; 
 once, y^hen she had fled to her friends for protection, he compelled 
 her, by threats of exposure, to return to the arms of her paramour; 
 and, to crown all, this brute at times rewarded his unresisting 
 victim, or stimulated her fears, with kicks and blows too disgrace¬ 
 ful for a man to inflict upon a dog. 
 
 Mr. Drugman’s eyes were at last opened, and he became per¬ 
 sonally cognizant of his wife’s infidelity. With more of mercy 
 and kindness than most men would have exhibited under such 
 provocation and ingratitude, he let the seducer escape with his 
 life; and although the extravagance of Mrs. D., oh her own ac¬ 
 count and that of F-ss’s during their five years’ intimacy, 
 
 had consumed all the net profits of his business as well as the 
 revenues of his large estates, the generous man did not totally 
 abandon his degraded wife, but took her to her friends, and pro¬ 
 vided handsomely for her future; it being his “sincere desire,” to 
 use his own words, “to save her alike from the temptations of 
 poverty, and to keep her out of that circle of fashion and pleasure 
 by which she has already been corrupted.” 
 
28 
 
 It may be that a conciousness of his own remissness had some¬ 
 thing to do with this, for he must have felt that he was in part 
 responsible for her fall and his own disgrace. 
 
 With the mother and sister of F-ss he had long been ac¬ 
 
 quainted, and doubtless had introduced them to his wife ; he must 
 
 have had some knowledge of the character of F-ss himself, and 
 
 should have warned his wife against associating with such a per¬ 
 son. To review the case and gather the moral— 
 
 Here was a man of wealth who deemed a showy wife essen- “ 
 tial to his happiness ; but with wealth sufficient to make a home 
 happy, must neglect that home for the sake of more wealth to 
 make a greater show; and as a consequence lost all he aimed to 
 gain, and wife and happiness in addition. Truly “ contentment 
 is better than wealth,” and an in-door wife to love, than an out¬ 
 door woman to be vain of. 
 
 A similar lesson is presented in the celebrated S-k-s affair; 
 but which is not given here, as the case will be presented in a 
 future chapter, entitled “Punishment of Seducers;” but it is fit¬ 
 ting to state that in an attempt by F-ss to take Mrs. Drug- 
 
 man from the charge of her husband, the seducer employed 
 S-k-s as his counsel. 
 
 A similar case, but of greater meanness, is thus made public in 
 the New York Sun — 
 
 “ A young married lady, who had gone astray some years before 
 her marriage, though the fact was known to but few, has been 
 compelled to furnish her old paramour with large sums of hush- 
 money, until his demands became insatiable; then ensued revela¬ 
 tion, despair, separation, etc., and the deprivation of a loving and 
 wealthy merchant-prince of a husband’s happiness.” 
 
 Such a man ought to be branded with the mark of Cain, and 
 hooted out of society. How any gentleman can associate with 
 such a villain, or any woman, however degraded, could exchange 
 words with him, is beyond explanation. 
 
 A class of men whose antecedents should be closely inquired 
 into by parents, before intrusting daughters to their charge, are 
 artists and music teachers; and this, for the simple reason, as has 
 already been shown, that they have the greatest facilities and 
 means to lead the young into evil. 
 
 V 
 
29 
 
 The party implicated in the first example we shall give, is an 
 artist of the long hair and pointed beard school; full of talk about 
 Venice, sweet Italy, the romance of art, the delights of traveling 
 in foreign climes, and all the topics in which a young, sentimental, 
 refined, and well educated girl would be likely to be interested. 
 He is a married man, and a member of the same church with the 
 unfortunate girl whose life has been blighted by his wiles. It is 
 not expedient to publish names, but as we cannot well get on 
 without giving the parties some appellations, we will call him 
 Harvey Kingsland, and the girl Laura Sands. 
 
 Laura was a blooming, beautiful girl of seventeen, moving in the 
 very first society, the pride and joy of her parents, who had no 
 other children, and the light of the social circle in which she 
 moved. She was just from school, aud had her head filled with 
 romance and poetry; life was to her all brightness and joy, with¬ 
 out a single cloud to mar its loveliness. She was living at home 
 in her father’s house, in one of the pleasant villages that abound 
 on every side of New York. 
 
 In the month of January, Kingsland, with his wife, came to the 
 house of Mr. Sands to board, and there first began the acquaint¬ 
 ance which was to result so disastrously to poor Laura. 
 
 Hardly had Kingsland become fairly domiciled in the house be¬ 
 fore he commenced paying her slight attentions, and making him¬ 
 self agreeable by compliments and flattery, being exceedingly 
 careful, however, not to do any thing to excite either the suspi¬ 
 cion of Laura’s father, or the jealousy of his own wife. Laura, 
 poor girl, was just released from boarding-school, where she had 
 been for four years, under the strictest surveillance as to all com¬ 
 munication with the other sex. 
 
 Kingsland’s attentions being the first of the kind she had ever 
 received, she was completely bewildered by his protestations of 
 regard, while the fact that he was a member of the same church 
 with herself, disarmed any slight suspicion she might otherwise 
 have had, for surely, she thought, so good a man could think no 
 harm. 
 
 Along some time in April, a difficulty occurred between Kings¬ 
 land and Mr. Sands, about some money matters, which soon 
 ripened into a serious quarrel, and the two men hardly spoke to 
 
 
30 
 
 each other. Kingsland professed to be very desirous to have the 
 breach healed over, and accordingly sought the intercession of 
 Laura with her father, to bring about a mutual good understanding. 
 
 Under pretence of talking the matter over with her where they 
 would not be disturbed, he invited her to meet him down town, 
 on a certain day, at a house in Canal street. She, in all innocence, 
 agreed to the proposition, and met him at the place and hour ap¬ 
 pointed. He opened the conversation by saying that Mr. Sands 
 was a very irritable man, with whom it was hard to come to an 
 understanding, but he thought that if he and Laura had a quiet 
 chat over the matter, she might be able to bring it all right, inas¬ 
 much as she had almost unbounded influence over her father. 
 
 Kingsland then proposed that they should go over to the house 
 of an acquaintance of his, in Laurens street, where they might be 
 perfectly quiet, and not liable to interruption. At the door of this 
 house in Laurens-street they were met by a very respectable 
 looking woman, with whom Kingsland shook hands, and whom 
 he introduced to Laura as his aunt. He requested of her the 
 favor of a private room, where he could have a business conver¬ 
 sation with the young lady. The “aunt” replied that they could 
 go into her own room for an hour or so, and accordingly showed 
 them to a room very neatly furnished as a bedroom. 
 
 Laura having the utmost faith in her attendant, and fully be¬ 
 lieving that the woman was his aunt, thought nothing wrong, and 
 proceeded to make herself very comfortable. Soon the aunt 
 brought'in some nicely-cooked oysters, and some delicious milk- 
 punches, of which Laura partook, remarking innocently to Kings¬ 
 land that his aunt was very attentive and hospitable. 
 
 They talked for a while of the business, but after more milk- 
 punches had been brought and finished, the conversation diverged 
 from that to other topics. He soon grew bold, and told her he 
 loved her; made promises of protection; said that he could and 
 would do more for her than for his own wife, for his wife was able 
 to take care of herself. He continued in this strain for some time, 
 and Laura, inexperienced as she was in the ways of the world, 
 listened with pleasure. 
 
 It is of no avail to go into details; suffice to say, that, excited 
 as she was by the spirits she had taken, in which, perhaps, had 
 
31 
 
 been infused some deleterious drug, the poor girl, hardly con¬ 
 scious of what she was doing, yielded to the solicitations of her 
 false friend, and fell. 
 
 Having thus obtained a power over her, Kingsland forced her 
 afterward, when she had bitterly repented her folly, by threats of 
 exposure, to renew the criminal intimacy, and Laura finally be¬ 
 came the mother of an illegitimate child, to the shame and deep 
 disgrace of herself and family. 
 
 It is hardly necessary to say that the house in L—ns street is 
 an assignation-house, and that the “ aunt^’ is its mistress, and that 
 she was perfectly well aware of every thing that was going on. 
 
 The sanctimonious Kingsland has been prosecuted, and will be 
 undoubtedly punished by the slow action of the law, though 
 nearly every feeling man will acknowledge that the outraged 
 father would have been justified in pursuing a much shorter me¬ 
 thod to punish the betrayer of his lovely and confiding child. 
 
 Now, who that reads the above can but feel that the parents of 
 the unfortunate young girl were deeply culpable, for not enlight¬ 
 ening her as to her dangers and weaknesses. “ Ignorance is noc 
 innocence,” as many parents have found to their sorrow. The 
 tragedy of Madeline Smith, the Scotch school-girl, gives evidence 
 of this. 
 
 The eldest member of a family which she has driven from home 
 and happiness, she was nurtured amid all the refinements of life, 
 like a house-plant. Her father resolved she should be kept apart 
 from the world as much as possible., vainly imagining that a severe 
 system of seclusion from its evils would preserve his flower, Made¬ 
 line, from contamination. She was permitted to know of evil only 
 " as it wcLS spoken of in the catechism. While she was a girl, he 
 thought he could mould her into a spotless being, denying her 
 even so much acquaintance with the outside world as is revealed 
 in the columns of a newspaper. 
 
 The result was even worse than might have been expected from 
 a system so false and so thoroughly opposed to the healthy devel¬ 
 opment of humanity, in a world where moral beauty is reached 
 through a knowledge of the bad that has to be resisted and over¬ 
 come. 
 
 When she came into society, Madeline Smith plunged headlong 
 
32 
 
 into a vortex, of the existence of which she had been previously 
 unaware * the hot-house plant was not fitted for the rough atmos¬ 
 phere of the world, and it perished. The catechism was secretly 
 exchanged for “ Lucretia,” and novels of that class, which were 
 devoured with unwholesome avidity. 
 
 The fast literature of the day took the place of these “ good 
 books” which she had been set to read by good old Dr. Beattie ; 
 she became faster in her pace than those of her female acquaint¬ 
 ances who had been accustomed to what Isaac Taylor’s old-lady 
 friend called “a little wholesome neglect,” she had before been so 
 well taken care of that now she took no care of herself; as a conse¬ 
 quence, she fell an easy prey to the first artful villain who pre¬ 
 sented himself, and the result is embraced in a few words. 
 
 A female servant was bribed to facilitate the nightly visits of 
 the Jersey youth, L’Angelier, to the house of the young lady, and 
 to carry letters between the guilty lovers; after a time, Madeline 
 awoke to a realization of her position ; remorse and the dreary 
 prospect of the future, should she continue her present course, 
 prompted her to request of L’Angelier the return of her letters, 
 and a complete discontinuance of their connection; she was fur¬ 
 ther prompted to this measure by honorable proposals of marriage 
 from a worthy young gentleman; but her cold-hearted lover 
 would neither marry her himself, nor permit her to secure a 
 respectable position in society; he wished to retain her in the 
 worst kind of bondage; he was deaf to her tears and her prayers^ 
 and refused peremptorily to restore her letters. She then poisoned 
 him; and whether the jury who acquitted her of murder did 
 right, is a question our readers must settle for themselves; cer¬ 
 tain, however, is it, that L’Angelier deserved the severest pun¬ 
 ishment for his meanness and cruelty. 
 
 Now manifest is it, if the knowledge of evil is essentially per¬ 
 nicious and undesirable, then this world was badly constituted 
 for the moral development and growth of human beings; and 
 parents should make haste to immure their children in convents, 
 and should profoundly rejoice when they are called away by death. 
 But if this world be, as we believe, divinely devised and calcu¬ 
 lated for the temporary abode of the human race, and for their 
 preparation for another and higher existence, then is it better for 
 
 
33 
 
 the great majority neither to be born blind nor deaf, nor to be sc; 
 fenced about and guarded from all knowledge of good and evil, 
 as to amount practically to the same thing. 
 
 We therefore hold, that some knowledge of the world, and of theif 
 own dangers and weaknesses, shmdd he viewed as an essential 'part 
 of ever'y 'young lady's eduxation; and that such information should 
 he imparted to them as early in life as nature places them in peril. 
 
THE APPEAL. 
 
 “ May God impress you to believe me innocent.” 
 
CHAPTER lY. 
 
 
 SECRET ARTS OP SEDUCERS. 
 
 [It is a question with philanthropists, whether the exposure of 
 crime does not result in more harm than good; whether it does 
 not instruct the designing in methods of evil more than it warns 
 the innocent of the perils which environ them; and it has been 
 a serious question—a matter of some months of serious delibera¬ 
 tion—whether this chapter should be put in or left out of this 
 work; but a case of recent occurrence, where a foul scheme for 
 unjustly and disgracefully divorcing an honest and worthy wo¬ 
 man from a rich husband was defeated, through the persevering 
 exertions and investigations of a young lawyer, who received his 
 cue, in this case, from reading the proof-sheets of the thirty- 
 seventh and so up to the forty-fourth page of this book, and who 
 at that time strongly condemned their publication, has decided 
 the question in favor of its insertion; it therefore appears entire, 
 and is particularly commended to the consideration of judges, 
 lawyers, and family physicians.] 
 
 Among the small-souled methods of undermining a young wo¬ 
 man’s character, driving her from home, making her desperate, 
 and rendering her an easy prey to the villainous seducer, is that 
 of anonymous and forged letters. Now the appearance of the 
 former, unless sustained by strong corroborative evidence, is 
 rather a proof than otherwise of the virtuous character of the 
 woman against whom they are directed; they argue that more 
 direct and easier methods of overcoming her virtue have failed, 
 (or, until she becomes broken-spirited, dare not be attempted,) 
 or that she is an object of envy and cowardly malice. 
 
 Letters, which are neither forged nor anonymous, are some¬ 
 times used, too, for vile ends, as the following account will illus¬ 
 trate ; the names are fictitious. 
 
36 
 
 Mary Hastings, the daughter of a poor but honest Long Island 
 farmer, was early in life domiciled in the family of her pastor 
 whose wife, finding her to be a girl of superior abilities, took de¬ 
 light in instructing her, and under her fostering care Mary be¬ 
 came an intelligent, well-bred, and very attractive young woman. 
 
 *^'rederick L-, a New York University student, the nephew and 
 
 adopted child of this clergyman, was a rake of the first rank, 
 though secret in his practices, and having made improper advances 
 to Mary on several occasions, which her delicacy, as well as her 
 gratitude to her benefactors prevented her from exposing, she 
 was forced to leave the clergyman’s roof, and hence took 
 charge of a school for Misses in a neighboring town, making her 
 home at the house of the principal storekeeper there. 
 
 But beauty and grace are often inconvenient as well as pleas¬ 
 ing possessions; her troubles did not end with her removal. 
 
 Young Herman C-, the storekeeper’s son, paid her honorable 
 
 attentions, which secured for her the malignant envy of a rich far¬ 
 mer’s daughter, who had counted upon the storekeeper’s son as 
 her own, while the baffled collegian, incited by jealousy, resolved, 
 at any sacrifice, to prevent Mary’s marriage, and having tri¬ 
 umphed over the slight virtue of her rival, so as to make a more 
 supple tool of that weak girl, the two carried out this scheme— 
 
 The collegian returned to New York, leaving in the hands of 
 his co-partner a letter, dated forward two weeks, with instruc¬ 
 tions to deposit it, at the end of three weeks, after dusk, in the 
 street which led from Mary’s school to her home; this letter, 
 dated at New York, and addressed to “My dear Mary,” was 
 filled with not over delicate quotations from Ovid and Byron, 
 
 and signed “your friend ever, Frederick L-.” But this was 
 
 not all; its whole tenor conveyed the Impression that an im¬ 
 proper intimacy had long existed between Mary and the collegian. 
 The letter was duly deposited, was picked up the next morning 
 by a teamster, read and passed round, and in forty-eight hours 
 became the town-talk. 
 
 But this plot, artful as it was diabolical, did not succeed; Her¬ 
 man rightly judged the case, and forthwith addressed the colle¬ 
 gian a letter, suggesting that, as he had ruined the girl, it was 
 his duty to provide for and remove her. 
 
This, however, was but a riLse of Herman’s to get the col¬ 
 legian to where he could force a confession from him. They 
 met. “ Science” was on the side of the collegian, but the en¬ 
 raged Herman set all rules aside, and dealt out justice so vig, 
 orously to the astonished student that, to save his life, he made 
 a full confession, and, as “to the victor belongs the spoils,” 
 Herman secured the hand of the grateful girl. "Who shall say that 
 this young man did not conduct this case better than any lawyer. 
 
 As the most talented and best-hearted men often fall victims to 
 the wine-cup, so frequently do the most amiable of women be¬ 
 come the prey of the seducer; and out of this circumstance short¬ 
 sighted men too often found an unjust estimate of female virtue; 
 Many forcible examples of this character lose all weight when 
 fully understood; for it is a fact, that some unfortunate women, 
 even of the higher classes, are as guiltless of their fall, as they 
 would be for perishing, if thrown from the suspension bridge that 
 crosses the Niagara river. 
 
 “ She was the most benevolent, self-denying, pure-spoken and 
 sensitive young lady I ever met with,” once said a gentleman to 
 ns when speaking of a mutual acquaintance; “the last woman 
 on earth I should have supposed would entertain a sinful thought, 
 much less commit an evd deed, and yet she fell; truly, ‘ frailty, 
 thy name is woman.’ ” 
 
 We had no reply to make to him save that the case was a very 
 strange one; and most singular it was, reader, for this young lady 
 possessed wealth, accomplishments, position, friends, and had 
 suitors of the highest character, while her chosen employment 
 seemed to be to shed light and happiness upon all around her, high 
 or low,—and yet she fell; fell as none but a woman can fall— 
 bringing sorrow and confusion to many a Christian woman’s heart. 
 
 We were then too young, and she was too much our senior for 
 us to entertain for her any warmer feeling than esteem, but half 
 our delight in existence seemed to have perished when she went 
 down; for the name of her whom we had looked upon as one of 
 earth’s angels was now derisively quoted by all libertines and 
 women-haters, and our respect for the whole sex, our mother, sis¬ 
 ters, and young female companions then just budding into wom¬ 
 anhood was sadly lowered. 
 
S8 
 
 But, thank God, the light of woman’s smile and woman’s pres¬ 
 ence, which was dimmed for a time to our then narrow vision, now 
 shines upon us with renewed brightness; we have since become 
 cognizant of so many instances of uncomplaining suffering, patient 
 perseverance in duty, heroic self-denial, and resistance of tempta¬ 
 tion on the part of woman, that when we contemplate human 
 frailty, the stronger sex seems lowest by far in the scale of virtue, 
 
 V and we find the type of Christ on earth not in man but in woman; 
 nor does any thing in the very case we are now treating of dis¬ 
 turb these convictions. 
 
 We have before said that “woman is God’s greatest trust to 
 man;” that “woman is powerless to the man she loves;” that 
 “ there is a vast difference between the voluntary fallen and the 
 cast-downf and that woman should ever maintain a saving dread 
 of her own weakness, and man’s treachery and duplicity; the 
 force of these points we shall illustrate in this and the succeeding 
 narratives;—in the present case we shall show that the victim 
 was ruined (cast down), even before she fell; that she was the 
 unconscious and helpless victim of a demoniacal conspiracy. 
 
 Letitia M. was the child of a once promising lawyer, who 
 finally died a gambler and a drunkard; her mother was a noble 
 woman, the daughter of a clergyman; and who—all honor to her 
 patient sufferings—^lived a model life, and yet died of a broken 
 heart. 
 
 At the age of six, both her parents being then dead, Letitia 
 was adopted by a wealthy gentleman, a bachelor, and politician 
 of some note, whom we shall designate by the name of Grey. 
 
 To this Grey lawyer M. became largely indebted, for sums 
 which he had embezzled while attending to the suits and collect¬ 
 ing the dues of the politician, and which sums the lawyer irre¬ 
 coverably lost at the gaming table. The politician was a man of 
 the world, and possessed with no very high estimate of female 
 virtue; an opinion he probably came honestly by, through long 
 sojournings at Washington City. 
 
 Mrs. M. being a very beautiful and attractive woman. Grey be¬ 
 came enamored of her, and to the debit of man's frailty we are 
 forced to record, that so debased by his vices had the once high- 
 toned lawyer become, and such was his dread of Grey’s an- 
 
89 
 
 ger at his defalcations, that he actually urged on his friend’s 
 suit; the woman had borne all else of misery and disgrace which 
 the man could bring upon her; but this last blow from her hus¬ 
 band killed her; and it was the resistance she made to all of Grey’s 
 overtures, of “foreign residence and travel,”-“ settlements of real 
 estate,” “adoption of her daughter,” backed by the prospect of 
 escaping from the brutal treatment of a demented husband, and 
 the calumnies of village gossips, who had already connected her 
 name offensively with that of the politician’s; it was this, but 
 still more the death-bed scene of this Christian martyr, at which he 
 was present, and the sight of the life-current from a broken blood¬ 
 vessel which oozed from her mouth, that changed Grey’s estimate of 
 woman’s character; on his knees he urged her forgiveness for the 
 share he had in her untimely death; pleaded his own bitter dis¬ 
 appointment in early youth as some excuse for his evil life and 
 conduct, begged her consent to her child being consigned to his 
 care, and vowing to adopt, and rear her to goodness and useful¬ 
 ness, as some atonement for his own wrong-doing in this matter. 
 
 In a month from this time lawyer M. died of delirium tremens, 
 and Letitia became the ward of Grey, who furnished a handsome 
 dwelling, installed his widowed sister therein as housekeeper, 
 placed Letitia there, supplied her with the best of tutors, sur¬ 
 rounded her with every comfort, and for twelve years, during 
 which time his iron-gray locks changed to pure white, he was not 
 only to Letitia all that a kind, considerate parent could be,—but 
 to the community he proved one of the best of men. Letitia was 
 his idol; he loved secretly to dwell upon the virtues and charac¬ 
 teristics of the mother, and see them daily developing in the 
 daughter; while she loved him with all the devoted gratitude 
 which a generous heart could not but feel for one who was both 
 father and mother to the destitute orphan, and all for no unworthy 
 or selfish ends. 
 
 But during most of this time, envy, self-interest and avarice 
 were at work to destroy the well-merited happiness of Grey, and 
 the future earthly good of his ward; a scheme of evil was devised 
 and carried out in this case, which more than matched any act of 
 the Borgias; it seems like to sullying the paper to write it down, 
 even in the most delicate and ambiguous terms in which it can be 
 
40 
 
 expressed; we shrink from bringing the foul deed before the 
 minds of our pure readers; and yet as it may in some instances 
 tend to clear the unjustly aspersed character, of the uncomplain¬ 
 ing dead, and perhaps save some firmly virtuous maiden, or wronged 
 wife, from utter desolation, we must do it;—our work would be 
 incomplete without it. 
 
 Grey’s sister was both selfish and unprincipled; she wished the 
 entire fortune of her wealthy brother, who was much her senior, 
 should come to herself and children; these, a son ^d daughter. 
 Grey for sound reasons held in light esteem; hence, both mother 
 and children conceived a hatred of the innocent Letitia, which 
 arose to perfect malignity, when the youth, having arrived at ma¬ 
 turity, was repulsed in his suit for Letitia’s hand; a step he had 
 taken at his mother’s instance, who hoped in this way to retain 
 the wealth in her own family. 
 
 From this time every art which the trio could conceive, was 
 put in force, to weaken Letitia^s hold upon Mr. Grey’s favor; but he 
 understood their motives and remained firm. The only effect 
 their schemes had upon him was an intimation that he would 
 remove her into another family. 
 
 Grey’s nephew became a stock-broker, as well as a fast man, 
 and absorbed no little of his uncle’s funds; his sister, while pay¬ 
 ing a visit to a neighboring city, was seduced by a banker, a very 
 fascinating, handsome scoundrel, a member of a church, and with 
 a reputation (a mere financial move to secure credit for large 
 wealth) for extensive benevolence; when the fact of his sister’s 
 ruin was privately made known to the brother, he did not shoot 
 her betrayer, but resolved to use both parties to effect Letitia’s ruin; 
 the banker was really insolvent, as the brother well knew; the 
 promise of a handsome sum as well as the prospect of gratification, 
 enlisted his services at once; while the sister, out of spite and 
 malice, though perfectly willing that there should be “a loan 
 of a lover” in the case, gave her gentleman to understand, (as did 
 her brother,) that under no circumstances would an honorable 
 marriage with their uncle’s ward be permitted. 
 
 The banker secured an introduction to Mr. Grey, and through 
 him to Letitia. He had scarcely made his appearance, when, 
 according to the understood plan, both brother and sister began to 
 
41 
 
 sneer at his manners, his piety, his benevolence and wealth, well 
 knowing that this was precisely the course to interest an honest, 
 just heart like Letitia’s, in the gentleman, as well as raise him in 
 the estimation of Mr. Grey; so the nefarious plan prospered, for in 
 a few months, to the great seeming vexation of both mother and 
 children, the banker became an accepted suitor; his fascinating 
 manners, professed piety, apparently spotless character, and re¬ 
 puted wealth, and all that went to make up a desirable match 
 in Mr. Grey’s estimation seemed to be centered in the conspirator, 
 and Grey felt exceeding thankful that in this man he had secured 
 a kind protector for his young ward; that he had accomplished 
 the last great object of his life, and could now lay his head in the 
 grave in peace; while so noble and generous a being seemed 
 Letitia to her affianced, that it softened even his callous heart, and 
 gladly would he have honorably wedded her; but an exposure of 
 his character, and of his original purpose, would have destroyed 
 all hope both with Letitia and her protector, and the means of 
 such exposure had been carefully secured by his co-conspirators 
 in the outset, in the shape both of letters and writings; to first 
 ruin and then make marriage a necessity on her part, became 
 then the secret intent of Letitia’s now sincere lover. 
 
 But all his open efforts in this direction failed; loving and con¬ 
 fiding as she was, her pure instinct took instant alarm at his most 
 delicate advances, and with a prudence worthy of all imitation, 
 she finally avoided remaining alone with him, and even urged him 
 to remain in his own city and leave her in seclusion until such 
 time as she could become his wife. 
 
 Foiled in this direction, the conspirators next resolved upon 
 effecting an entrance for the banker into Letitia’s chamber, at 
 midnight, his frequent stay of two or three days at a time at the 
 house favoring the plan; accordingly one evening, before' retiring, 
 a glass of drugged wine was artfully given to Letitia, and when 
 all was still in the house, the banker made his way through 
 the chamber of his first victim to that of his proposed second; 
 but the jealousy of the female conspirator would not allow her to 
 permit him to remain there scarce a second, ere she locked the 
 communicating door upon him, and rushed into the entry with the 
 ciy that there were burglars in the house; the inmates at once as- 
 
42 
 
 sembled; the alarm!.st declared she heard the intruders in Letitia’s 
 room; the door was rapped upon, but no answer came; it was 
 broken open and the banker discovered, and the state of lethargy 
 the innocent girl was in was viewed by the servants as a feeble 
 ruse of pretended unconsciousness. 
 
 On just such frail evidence as this has many an innocent girl 
 been ruined—in just such a manner as this has a perfectly pure 
 being been dishonored—in the present case the trick did not suc¬ 
 ceed with Grey; he deemed his ward the victim of some foul plot, 
 though the weight of his displeasure, and even suspicion, fell 
 solely upon the banker. 
 
 Grey had of late received some disagreeable intimations respect¬ 
 ing the standing of Letitia’s suitor, and for this reason had put off 
 his ward’s marriage; he now entered into a close investigation of 
 the gentleman’s position, and ascertained privately that whatever 
 the original standing of the banker he was now not worth a dol¬ 
 lar ; that he was recklessly engaged in hopeless speculations, and 
 altogether Grey felt assured that his intent was to dishonor Letitia, 
 in the hope to secure in that way her hand and a portion of her 
 protector’s fortune, and he was forbid the house. 
 
 But the poor innocent—what were her sufferings at this time ? 
 they were terrible but brief—spotless as she was, when she awoke 
 and realized the perfidy of the man whom she thought the soul 
 of honor, neither her consciousness of innocence, nor the earnest 
 asseverations and solemn oaths of Grey, that he was fully as' 
 sured she was both truthful and pure, could afford her the least 
 comfort; she felt that to the world she was tainted and disgraced; 
 the shock was too great for her to bear, and she fell at once into 
 a brain-fever. 
 
 Why her life was spared to enter upon deeper—rather upon 
 real degradation. Providence best knows—perhaps to serve as a 
 warning to parents and guardians to look well into the character 
 of those whom they permit their daughters and wards to come 
 in contact with, and perhaps as a lesson to the world, that mere 
 circumstantial evidence is often the most baseless of testimony. 
 
 The work of the heartless conspirators was not yet over—the 
 banker had been driven from the field, but the ward had not yet 
 been separated from her protector—the niece judging by her own 
 
43 
 
 base heart, feared Letitia might recover, and making the best of 
 her position fly to the banker and entreat him to marry her; she 
 felt that if Letitia could in some way be utterly disgraced, then 
 she might herself acquire a sufficiency of her uncle’s property to 
 secure the banker’s hand and save her own honor; she, therefore, 
 under the advice which she or her brother had obtained from a 
 noted procuress, proceeded to the commission of a deed the very 
 lowest and vilest in the whole catalogue of crimes. 
 
 For every earthly sin, there is a check, a punishment, and, as 
 is well known, in the physical as well as the moral world, the re¬ 
 sults following the commission of sins do not always fall upon 
 transgressors alone—for the sin of impurity there is a physical in¬ 
 fliction as shocking in its effects, as it is disgraceful in its origin; 
 innocent persons sometimes, though very rarely, have acquired it 
 from coming in contact with inanimate substances, proving that 
 it may be conununicated by vaccination. 
 
 Leader, the above paragraph explains as fully as is here fitting 
 the nature of a crime, for the commission of which, all that can be 
 said apologetically, is, that it no doubt took the combined incen¬ 
 tives of love, jealousy, pride and despair, to induce a woman to per¬ 
 petrate it— hut it was accomplished —and when, after some months 
 of sickness and prostration, Letitia recovered—she learned her 
 guardian had left for Europe never to return—meeting with none 
 but cold and averted looks from all around her, she took the check 
 Grey had placed in her physician’s care, and in accordance with 
 his earnest advice, she left home and all its once happy surround¬ 
 ings for the retirement' and solitude of a neighboring city, having 
 been consigned to a poor but worthy widow lady there, at the • 
 instance of her clergyman, who deeply grieved over her sup¬ 
 posed fall. To the kindly-meant but bitter and unmerited advice of 
 her pastor, that “ she would strive to pass the rest of her days in 
 penitence and virtue,” she replied not a word; her heart had 
 changed to stone; it was too hard to break; if it had any feeling left 
 it was that of scorn of her whole race, that she, most innocent 
 in her every thought and deed, should be cast out of society with 
 the brand of impurity on her brow;—but her cup of misery was 
 not yet full; her late protector’s nephew traced her to her residence, 
 and made dishonorable proposals to her; bearing to her at the 
 
44 
 
 same time a letter from his sister,—who, still afraid that Letitia 
 might stand between her and the banker, (needless fear, the poor 
 girl hated him worse than all)—in which was inclosed a note writ¬ 
 ten by Letitia’s physician to Girey, and bearing date of the day only 
 which preceded his departure; one line of this note indicated the 
 cause both of G-rey’s departure and desertion. It ran thus: “ It is 
 a fact, my dear sir, which duty compels me to disclose to you^ that, 
 in addition to her apparent illness, I have cured your ward of a 
 disease, the presence of which is indubitable evidence of dishonor.” 
 
 “Women are more intense than men; so, better if good, and 
 worse if bad,” says a distinguished lecturer; and can you wonder, 
 reader, that this hapless young woman, who “ had wrongs that 
 would stir a fever in the blood of age, and make the infant’s sinews 
 strong as steel,” should after this have become a very fiend as it 
 were, and prey without remorse upon either sex. ... We 
 drop the vail over her after deeds, but must philosophize upon her 
 case, lest the evil which she and others like her have done may 
 seem to have been more than an offset for the wrongs they suf¬ 
 fered, and hence a sort of back-handed justice cry “ quits” in the 
 case. We look upon such beings as morally insane, and conceive 
 they are permitted to prey upon society—to avenge their wrongs 
 upon the community—as a punishment to society for its indiffer¬ 
 ence to their wrongs, and its obtuseness to the real causes of their 
 faU. 
 
 The reputation of a woman is every thing. The least crock of 
 impurity is almost fatal to her, and as the whitest paper will give 
 the strongest relief to a stain, so are the best and most amiable 
 affected by calumny. 
 
 “Appearances are against her,” are blighting words in the 
 mouths of the good and truthful; how easy for the evil-disposed 
 to contrive those appearances, and compel, as it were, the good 
 and true honestly to give them utterance. How many noble 
 women have been ruined by calumny; by mere circumstantial 
 evidence. We could give hundreds of instances where the base 
 seducer, finding all other means to fail, has resorted to means 
 similar to the above to effect his objects, and by exciting envy, 
 jealousy, fear, or avarice, in other women’s breasts, secured their 
 co-operation. 
 
45 
 
 The case of Miss Lavinia C., which was tried in the Municipal 
 Court at Boston, was a very remarkable case of this character; 
 remarkable no less from the appearance of the defendant, than for 
 her fortunate escape from the fatal grasp of circumstantial evi¬ 
 dence which had been accumulated against her. The charge was 
 the larceny of a little money and a few clothes from her room-mate, 
 the sole object being to blast her character and make her perfectly 
 hopeless, and reckless of the future. 
 
 Young, not over twenty, good looking, but rather lady-like than 
 beautiful, unprotected and alone, she rose in the prisoner’s dock, 
 and undertook her own defense. She examined and cross-exam¬ 
 ined the witnesses with almost professional acuteness; and at the 
 close she turned to the jury and addressed them. 
 
 The government had the usual evidence arrayed against her, 
 of the property being found in her trunk or possession. With a 
 sweet and plaintive voice, she related to the jurymen the story of 
 her life; how she had sailed to this port, with her lover, from the 
 distant state of South Carolina, under a solemn promise of mar¬ 
 riage ; how he deceived, and then left her at a boarding-place, 
 whose character, when discovered, she was horrified at, and the 
 attempts of whose inmates to complete her utter ruin she had 
 resisted, and thereby secured their ill-will; all she knew of this 
 matter with which she was cruelly charged was, that in her open 
 trunk the missing things were found. But of this alleged theft 
 she called God to witness she was entirely innocent. 
 
 Her pure appearance, standing in the dock among the horrid 
 gang of sinners, blistered with inveterate vices, was like a youth¬ 
 ful angel in purgatory. Her words were not backed up by evi¬ 
 dence—from the nature of the case they could not be—but the 
 confirmation of their veracity, strong as Holy Writ, spoke from her 
 gentle eyes, her placid face and pure demeanor; these were a 
 shining witness for her, and opened her prison doors. 
 
 While she spoke, that vulgar court-room, where so much that 
 is infernal passes in daily procession, seemed attentive as to 
 strange and unaccustomed music. The district attorney, with a 
 warm-hearted candor, declined to urge the jury to convict her. 
 The Judge (Nelson) charged them fully, but with great feeling. 
 There were tears in his voice, if not in his eyes, as he did so; and 
 
■when at the conclusion the jurj, magnetized as it were by her 
 look—which seemed to say, “God makes you feel that I am inno¬ 
 cent,”—promptly acquitted the maiden, the whole audience, the 
 villains in the dock, the ministers of justice in the bar, the specta¬ 
 tors connected with the criminals, all seemed to feel the sympathy 
 of denizens of pandemonium for the escape of a spirit of the 
 upper air, to its congenial sunshine. 
 
 The remarkableness of this case is still more noticeable from 
 the escape of the victim. We have known some persons convict¬ 
 ed, and others whose character was tainted for life, on testimony 
 of this identical sort; the whole thing being, as wo believed, the 
 contrivance of interest or malice. 
 
 The presumption of the law is, that the person in whose pos¬ 
 session stolen goods are found is prima facie guilty, and must then 
 prove his innocence; practically defeating the benign maxim of 
 the common law, that “every man is presumed innocent till 
 proved guilty.” 
 
 In the case of this poor girl, how could she prove her innocence ? 
 She saw no fatal fingers thrust the stolen goods into the accusing 
 trunk; if she had seen them, she could not have been allowed to 
 testify to it, for a defendant cannot testify. Suppose this poor 
 girl had not been blessed with an appearance and an address so 
 prepossessing, or had not been so calm and self-possessed, she 
 would to-day have been in a felon’s cell, hopelessly demoralized. 
 We have heard the agonizing shrieks of condemned unfortunates, 
 echoing through the vaulted chambers of justice (?); prisoners 
 who protested and swore to their innocence, and against whom 
 nothing but such prima facie evidence had been presented. Un¬ 
 supported testimony of this character we pronounce the meanest 
 and most inane of all admitted evidence ; the trick which too often 
 originates it is a stale one; the eyes of jurors should be open to 
 it, and we trust the case above presented will be quoted in every 
 court where occasion calls for it. It was tried at the Municipal 
 Court, held at Boston, Thursday, Sept. 17, 1857. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 Advertising Traps—Street Introductions. 
 
 While the nets of the procuresses are openly spread in our 
 public thoroughfares in the form of mock intelligence offices, the 
 signs of these same nefarious traders in female virtue hang out by 
 scores in our city newspapers; nor is this all—male villains also 
 display their cards in the public prints, and play both procurer and 
 debauchee on their own private account. 
 
 AU fortune-telling advertisements^ and nine-tenths of the “matri¬ 
 monial” and “governess” and “house-keeper wanted” notices 
 that appear in such papers as admit the first-named, are intended 
 as traps to catch unwary females, or as placards to direct reckless 
 women where to throw themselves away. 
 
 Leaving the fortune-tellers for the succeeding chapter, we pro¬ 
 ceed to investigate the matrimonial advertisements; the rascals* 
 who put tliese forth not only calculate upon catching the heedless, 
 short-sighted, and scheming, but count largely upon trapping the 
 curious. Their object is to commence an acquaintance and secure 
 the confidence, or, failing that, the true name, residence and hand¬ 
 writing of their correspondents, turning these latter to profitable 
 account in a way we shall presently expose. 
 
 In all cases their object is money, or evil, or both; and rarely 
 has a virtuous female answered one of these notices who has not 
 had great cause to regret it. It is hard to conceive how any 
 honest women, unless half-witted, could venture upon so foolish 
 an act as to reply to these suspicious, because skulking advertise¬ 
 ments ; but heedless people will do such things, and hence the 
 value of our book. 
 
L 
 
 FORTUNE-TELLEBS' dens. 
 
 *' We little dream what eyes are upon us. 
 
49 
 
 Not many years since a coterie of damsels at the west part of 
 the city, who, though pretty well advanced in their teens, had not 
 yet arrived at years of discretion, and who, having escaped from 
 school—been finished—had nothing to do but plot mischief, 
 constituted themselves a “ board of correspondence” to take up, 
 and covertly reply to, these matrimonial advertisements. They 
 met regularly twice a week at the residence of a wealthy widower, 
 whose eldest daughter presided over his establishment, and who 
 used to dispatch her colored servant at the edge of evening and 
 by the back-door to the B—y and U—n S—r Post-offices, to de¬ 
 posit letters and bring away answers. 
 
 For a time things went on very smoothly and amusingly; the 
 club declined to hold communication with any correspondents 
 whose letters did not exhibit good taste and a pretty thick veil 
 of delicacy, and by culling and gleaning soon found themselves 
 engaged in a brisk, witty, and decidedly agreeable pen-and-ink 
 chit-chat with whom purported to be several young gentlemen of 
 “ fortune and standing;” and supposed they had so managed things 
 as effectually to secure their incognita. 
 
 But alas! one bright forenoon, when there was a “ full meeting 
 of the board,” and they were engaged in opening the delicate en¬ 
 velopes which were directed in beautiful styles of penmanship to 
 “ Amelia,” and “ Florence,” and “ Julia,” and so on, through a list 
 which gave a romantic name to each fair member of the coterie, 
 and which letters had been brought to the house the previous 
 evening by their especial mail-carrier,—when, with a merry laugh 
 of expectation they had broken the seals which stood between 
 them and the fond lines of a “ dear Clarence,” or “ Herbert,” or 
 “'W'illiam,” what was their surprise and terror to find inclosed 
 second envelopes, whose superscriptions, taken collectively, gave 
 the right street and number of the residence, and in most instances 
 the proper surname of the members of their entire circle. 
 
 Their perturbation was greatly heightened when the young lady 
 of the house, the “president of the board,” came to read to them 
 the letter especially addressed to her. It was to the effect that 
 a satchell filled with exquisite billet-doux, in the several hand' 
 
 writing of the company who regularly assembled at No.- 
 
 street, was in the possession of the writer (who signed himself 
 5 
 
50 
 
 Claude Duval,”) which he should be most happy to exchange 
 for suitable “ keep-sakesand for that purpose he should be in 
 front of the house that very day before the usual hour of ad¬ 
 journment ; and sure enough, while they were discussing the 
 subject, he made his appearance. 
 
 It seem^ that some of this club of systematic advertising 
 swindlers had placed themselves—as was probably their custom— 
 near the letter-deliveries, and had overheard the colored servant 
 inquire for some of the letters they had answered, and ^o followed 
 her home; the large number of these letters which she called for, 
 and watching round the house, gave them a knowledge of the ex¬ 
 istence of this ladies’ convention, each member of which was 
 traced to her residence, and her name taken for granted to be that 
 which appeared upon the door-plate. 
 
 Through their mail^agent, the colored woman, a negotiation was 
 at once opened by the frightened damsels with Claude Duval, and, 
 by parting with some watches, chains, and jewelry, which the 
 gentlemanly recipient in his parting note declared he should ever 
 look upon as forget-me-nots of this adventure, the now sobered 
 and wiser damsels recovered their letters, and each internally 
 vowed never to answer another matrimonial advertisement, or if 
 she did, to be very choice in the matter she indited, and not to ex¬ 
 pose herself by making use of her natural hand-writing. 
 
 Other instances could be related where dangerous curiosity or a 
 mere spirit of fun led to more disagreeable, because more per¬ 
 sonal consequences, such as where two young ladies were an¬ 
 noyed by the would-be attentions of two men of well-known 
 disreputable character, and who held some foolishly-worded letters 
 as a whip over their heads. 'We think, however, we have said 
 enough to deter our fair readers from venturing upon dangerous 
 sport in this direction. 
 
 The following are specimens of some of the deceptive and 
 villanous advertisements which disgrace many of our city jour¬ 
 nals; the three last are taken, comments and all, from the “New 
 York Ledger;” two of them, it will be observed, are from the 
 opposite or feminine side of the house, and are given in order to 
 fully illustrate the system of vile advertising which is constantly 
 going on in supposed respectable journals: 
 
■61 
 
 i YOUNG SOUTHERN GENTLEMAN, INTELLIGENT, 
 ix amiable and honorable, wishes to make the acquaintance of a 
 young lady not over twenty years of age, with a view to matri¬ 
 mony, Address, for one week, Lavater, box 126 Herald office. 
 
 M atrimonial.—A young man, 24 years of age, 
 
 of prepossessing appearance and ample means, who has but 
 little time to make the acquaintance of ladies, wishes to open a 
 correspondence with a lady between the ages of 18 and 22, with 
 a view to matrimony. She must be of an amiable and confiding 
 disposition, and well versed in good society. Money no object. 
 All communications will be treated with the utmost propriety. 
 Address Walter H., box 109 Herald office. 
 
 VyANTED.—By a Widower, a Governess for two children, five 
 T T and seven years of age. A young lady of good manners and 
 of fine personal appearance would be preferred, though a young 
 widow without children might be accepted. The most liberal 
 salary will be paid, and the situation will in every way be render¬ 
 ed as agreeable as possible. Address,-, &c. 
 
 “ This advertisement amounts to nothing less (or more) than an 
 invitation to the fairest portion of the fair sex in general, for one 
 of their number to sell her character and happiness to the adver¬ 
 tiser, for ‘ a liberal salary’ and the ‘ most agreeable situation 
 possible,’ under the disguise of acting as a governess to his two 
 children.” 
 
 M atrimonial.—a widow lady, aged 35 , thoroughly edu¬ 
 cated and accomplished, possessing some property, and a very 
 genteel personal appearance, desires to form a congenial matri¬ 
 monial alliance. A widower or bachelor possessing education, 
 business habits, and a respectable station in society, if sincere, 
 may address the advertiser. The highest references for respecta¬ 
 bility will be given and required. Address, &c., &c. 
 
 “ It makes us blush for our kind to know that such a gull-trap as 
 the above will catch victims. And yet five minutes’ refiection 
 would convince any half-sensible person that the injurious trash 
 we have quoted is not genuine. Would a woman, such as the one 
 described in the advertisement, be likely to fish for a husband in 
 such a disgraceful way ? A well-to-do, good-looking widow of 
 thirty-five, possessed of property too, hunt for a husband through 
 . the newspapers 1 Folly.” 
 
52 
 
 T O AUGUSTUS.—Return to'your darling, devoted “Petite.” 
 
 She won’t be naughty any more, and will send Ponto away if 
 he snaps at you again. At the usual place at seven. Don’t fhil, 
 if you would not make your “ Petite” miserable .—Au revoir. 
 
 “If ‘Augustus’ can hold out after such' an appeal, then his 
 heart must be harder than the Sphinx’s. The offer of the ‘ dar¬ 
 ling, devoted Petite’ to sacrifice even ‘ Ponto’—the name prob¬ 
 ably of her other pet poodle—upon the altar of her affection is a 
 proof of devotion such as it does one good to contemplate in a 
 girl of the present day. Therefore, we hope that Augustus will 
 be ‘ at the usual place (wherever that is) at seven’ to a minute, 
 that the devoted Petite may not be ‘ made miserable.’ ” 
 
 Of the same stamp as the above are very many of the advertise¬ 
 ments for a “Ladies’ Companion,” the lady in this case who wants 
 a companion being easily divined. 
 
 “ A housekeeper in a respectable, pious family” would find her¬ 
 self most likely refused, who was not decidedly comely and at¬ 
 tractive. 
 
 “ A young, intelligent lady, who has no objection to travel in 
 Europe with a family in the capacity of companion to an only 
 daughter,” might possibly in six months be as virtuous as when 
 she set out, but the chances would be very much against her. 
 
 All these advertisements are, to say the least, very dangerous, 
 though some of them are bona fide. Some opinion may be 
 formed by the character of the paper in which they appear. But 
 the only true way to distinguish the genuine from the spurious is 
 to require of the advertisers the most unexceptionable references. 
 No respectable young lady, who has any regard for her future re¬ 
 putation, should place herself in such intimate relations with any 
 family whose antecedents will not bear the test of a fair scrutiny, 
 or who object to such scrutiny. 
 
 The adventures of “ Dr. Hayne,” “Lyon,” and “Wentworth,” 
 whose history was recently published all over the land, and by 
 whom scores of girls were betrayed to their ruin, show the scope 
 and character of these advertisements. Lyon particularly boasted 
 that he had accomplished the seduction of more than twenty 
 girls, and that in nearly every case the acquaintance had com- 
 
63 
 
 menced by means of newspaper advertisements. Many of these 
 were answered by mere school-girls in the pure spirit of fun and 
 frolic, but it led to their ruin, thus illustrating the truth of the 
 old adage, “ ’Tis dangerous playing with edge tools I” 
 
 This class of scoundrels, some of whom move in high life, 
 sometimes get well come up with if not punished for their base¬ 
 ness. The most amusing case, as we conceive, on record, of where 
 these biters got bit, is the following, in which a mischief-loving 
 girl and her brother took leading parts—the only safe connection 
 in which a woman could partake in such questionable sport. 
 
 The young lady wrote the letters, and the brother saw in per¬ 
 son or by messenger to the delivery of them as the authors of the 
 advertisements specified. But the two plotters did not confine 
 themselves to such notices as they found in the newspapers; they 
 concocted several new styles, and had them liberally displayed in 
 the papers; and, as a consequence, had any quantity of com¬ 
 munications, not a few of which were very elegant both in matter 
 and chirography. 
 
 After toying a while with the fish she had thus hooked, and 
 fighting shy of giving to the impassioned youths who had shower¬ 
 ed their billet-doux upon her, any set time for a personal inter¬ 
 view, Clara (for such was the name she assumed) at last decided 
 to bring the whole matter to a “grand finale.” 
 
 She selected from among her host of correspondents some 
 twenty-five or thirty of such as herself and brother judged held 
 'the best positions in society, and addressed to each individual a 
 beautifully-written note, in which she declared that she could 
 no longer resist a desire to obtain a sight of the gentleman who 
 had dictated to her such charming letters; and if, the second 
 
 evening from the date of her epistle, he would- 
 
 * * * * played that night, and the house was crowded; 
 between the second and third acts of the tragedy, some twenty 
 fine-looking young or middle-aged gentlemen, who were seated 
 near the center of the parquet, each dressed in black, wearing 
 white vests, and with each a small bouquet in the right hand, and 
 a cane under the left arm, might have been seen to rise simul¬ 
 taneously with the fall of the curtain, and, turning their backs 
 to the stage, gaze inquiringly round as if expecting a token of 
 5* 
 
64 
 
 recognition from some one of the bright galaxy of beauties which 
 adorned the first tier. 
 
 .At first a titter and then almost an uproar of laughter from 
 several of the boxes caused them to turn their looks either way, 
 and each man became conscious that there were some twenty fac¬ 
 similes of himself present, and that this singular circumstance 
 was not only rapidly calling to them the attention of the whole 
 audience, but that himself and counterparts had been victimized, 
 and ’were the sole cause of the unusual levity which had for the 
 time overset the customary propriety of the “ first tier.” 
 
 There was soon a desperate scramble among these twenty gen¬ 
 tlemen in fool’s livery to get out of that parquet, and out of that 
 house; during which a nephew and an uncle, who made parts of 
 the score, were led, in their haste, to recognize each otlier in a 
 rather unceremonious manner. 
 
 The getter-up of this humorous affair was present, and enjoyed 
 the denouement exceedingly; the plan had worked admirably; 
 during the second act the brother had been round to several of 
 the boxes, to advise friends of the fun in prospect, taking the 
 whole credit of the scheme and its workings upon himself, in order 
 to shield his sister; but the severe lecture Clara got from one of 
 her cousins for “making such a fool of him,” indicated that one 
 person at least was confident she was entitled to the largest share 
 of the honors. 
 
 As a matter of course, these scheming advertisers urge a speedy 
 interview upon their correspondents; this they propose shall be 
 at some daguerreian-room, picture-gallery, or first-class saloon, and 
 oftentimes upon the street, some plausible reason being given 
 for secrecy in the matter; and any woman whose curiosity will 
 lead her to take this first weak step will be pretty sure to be led 
 to commit some indiscretion which will place her in the base 
 schemer’s power, and who, by threatening exposure, will lead her 
 deeper and deeper into his nets. 
 
 Another system of attack is the forcing an introduction upon an 
 unsuspecting woman through some specious pretense. Every 
 lady likes to be considered polite and civil, and therefore is led to 
 acknowledge in an amiable manner any little civihty that may 
 be paid her; designing men, in the garb and with the manners of 
 
66 
 
 g;entlemen, are very ready to take advantage of this circumstance, 
 and therefore keep on the look-out for chances to render little 
 services, and where occasions do not exist, to create them. They 
 carry in their pockets a lady’s portmonnaie, a broken pin or 
 . chain, and, making of this their letter of introduction, present it 
 to. some lady they have singled out, as something she may have 
 dropped. This h^ been done in the street, in the omnibus, in 
 the cars, and even at the residence of the lady; the whole object 
 being to commence an acquaintance, and trust to art and chance 
 for accomplishing some evil out of it. A man of this stamp 
 having once fancied he had made an impression upon a lady who 
 had only graciously returned his smile, and given him a bow un¬ 
 der the impression that she had been somewhere properly intro¬ 
 duced to him, devised the plan of calling upon her with a ver}’- 
 valuable shawl which he said his porter had picked up in front of 
 his store, and the wrapper of which being marked Mrs. B—n, (the 
 name upon the door-plate) he thought it might possibly belong to 
 her. The lady saw through the matter at once, took the shawl 
 into another room, came back, thanked him for his trouble, and 
 said if he would wait half an hour her husband would thank him 
 also; or if ho would leave his card, and set his time, her spouse 
 would certainly call upon him, and suitably acknowledge his kind¬ 
 ness and civility. A few weeks later the shawl was on sale at the 
 fair of a benevolent institution. 
 
 Ladies should bo very chary about passing words with strangers, 
 however well-appearing; the very gentlemanly-looking man who 
 has just done you a perhaps desirable little civility may be a 
 pick-pocket or gambler, or, worse than either, a wealthy libertine 
 —and this suggestion it would be well for every one of our women 
 readers to give heed to, down to the poorest shop-girl. 
 
 It is hardly necessary for us to say that no greater insult can 
 be offered by a man to a decent woman than for him to take it 
 for granted that she will walk and talk with him without a 
 suitable introduction. Of course this is rarely attempted, unless 
 under some flimsy pretense such as we have named, or that of mak¬ 
 ing the mistake of supposing her to be Miss Smith, or Brown, or 
 Jones. The woman thus addressed may be assured that she is 
 taken for one who is no better than she ought to be, and if she 
 
56 
 
 does not cut the intruder short at once, she is neither so wise nor 
 self-respecting as she ought to be. “Get out from under my 
 feet or I will tread upon you;” “Sir, if you are a gentleman, pro¬ 
 tect me from this ruffian;” “Policeman, I demand that you arrest 
 this villain,” are all expressions which have been used vuth most 
 excellent results by women who have been annoyed by these 
 street-curs in men’s clothing. And very rarely will a respectable 
 woman appeal in vain to a passer-by under such circumstances. 
 
 The only favorable termination to one of these forced intro¬ 
 ductions that we know of is embraced in the following incident; 
 it presents, however, no argument in favor of the practice: 
 
 In the early part of an October evening, a young woman, plainly 
 dressed, like to a shop-girl, was diligently wending her way home 
 alone through one of the principal streets of Baltimore. A gen¬ 
 tleman, attracted by her fine form and graceful bearing, followed her, 
 and, as she turned off into a bye-street, came up and addressed 
 her with a “good evening, madam.” The mild, pleasant manner 
 in which he spoke made the girl for a moment suppose it was 
 really an acquaintance that addressed her; and she turned as if to 
 reciprocate the salutation; but seeing that the gentleman was an 
 utter stranger, she hastened on without a word. 
 
 “ If my presence is disagreeable, I will leave; I do not wish 
 to annoy you,” was the man’s second remark;—no answer;— 
 
 “ Madam, will you permit me to walk with you,” he then urged. 
 
 “Sir,” said she, continuing her steps, “you look like a gentle¬ 
 man, and you speak like a kind-hearted one—how can you, then, 
 be so cruel as to insult a poor working girl; is it not enough 
 that we have to waste our strength in hard labor for our sup- ** 
 port; must the late hours our toil forces us at times to keep be 
 taken advantage of to abuse and annoy us on the street ?” 
 
 “ Madam, I stand convicted, and beg your pardon; permit me 
 your acquaintance, and perhaps I may attain a better character 
 in your estimation.” 
 
 “iVo, sir!" said she; “a street acquaintance, begun under such 
 circumstances, can end in no good; I ask you, as a gentleman, 
 to leave me.” 
 
 “ Tell me the church you attend, and I will.” 
 
 “WhatI—^would you persecute.me in God’s house, sir?” 
 
 \ 
 
67 
 
 '' Upon my honor as a man I will not go near it without your 
 permission.” 
 
 “I do not understand your object; but will say, that I attend 
 the-Church in-street.” 
 
 The stranger thanked her, and took his leave; an hour after he 
 
 called upon the minister of the-Church in-street; the 
 
 next day he called again along with one of the most respectable 
 merchants in Baltimore: and a fortnight later he attended the 
 said church, by the young lady’s permission; for she had her arm 
 in his as if to show him the way. 
 
 First fascinated by her appearance, next touched by her ap¬ 
 peal, and third, struck by her self-possession and prudence,, he 
 was probably more quickly and completely immersed in a love- 
 bath than was ever any mortal that preceded him; the minister 
 endorsed the character of the shop-girl (she was a member of 
 his church), and the city merchant of the gentleman himself; and 
 a "Western trader took home with him one of the best women and 
 wives that can be found in the whole Hoosier state. 
 
 But beware, romantic girls, that this our story do not lead you 
 into difficulties. We have but shown you just the kind of trap 
 and bait used by base libertines to catch the weak among you— 
 at all events, read owr next chapter^ before you build another castle 
 in the air. 
 
FOKTUNE-TELLEES’ DUPES. 
 
 “ How easy to foretell what you yourself planned, 
 
CHAPTER YI. 
 
 New York Fortune-Tellers. 
 
 Mankind, and especially womankind, naturally run after a bit 
 of mysticism, and this weak characteristic of the children of Eve 
 and Adam is largely taken advantage of by the crafty and de¬ 
 signing. 
 
 Fortune-tellers are very rarely heard of in the rural districts, 
 save in the shape of some old woman, who manipulates a pack of 
 greasy cards, or reads the fates by means of prophetic tea-grounds; 
 but those of our readers who suppose that astrology, palmistry, 
 geomancy, and the other scientific mysteries of the black art are 
 unknown to now-a-day Yankees, are laboring under a very chari¬ 
 table delusion. 
 
 Our curious readers have, no doubt, read the “Astrological” 
 advertisements which, year in and year out, occupy the corner of 
 some of our city papers, and have smiled at the execrable English 
 therein displayed, all the while indulging in a kind of innocent 
 wonder, as to whether those transparent nets ever catch any gulls; 
 whether there are really any people in our city who put trust in 
 “charms” and “love-powders,” and who have faith in the pro¬ 
 phetic infallibility of a pack of playing-cards. If any one is per¬ 
 sistently skeptical on this point he had better investigate for him¬ 
 self; meanwhile, we assure him, and the public, that there are 
 hundreds of people in our good city of New York, who actually 
 believe that the ruling powers of heaven and earth have revealed 
 the programme of futurity, to be retailed at fifty cents a dose, to 
 those snuffy, ignorant old women, who, if the eyes and noses of 
 their visitors be credible witnesses, live, for the most part, in » 
 
60 
 
 state of choice personal filthiness, which nothing less than a second 
 deluge can remove, or even mitigate. 
 
 It may open the eyes of these innocent querists to the vulgar 
 popularity of the witchcraft of 1858, to hear that the nineteen she- 
 prophets, who advertise in the newspapers of this city, are visited 
 every week by an average of sixteen hundred persons, of whom, 
 probably, three-quarters place implicit confidence in the miserable 
 stuff they hear and pay for. 
 
 It may also open, still wider, their wondering optics, to learn 
 that, although a part of these visitors are ignorant servants, unfor¬ 
 tunate girls of the town, or weak-minded, imbecile young men, 
 still there are among them not a few influential professional men, 
 and some merchants, of good credit and repute, who periodically 
 consult these women, and are actually governed by their advice, 
 in business matters of great moment. 
 
 It is, also, often the case, that ladies of wealth and social posi¬ 
 tion, who are, we presume, otherwise discreet, are led by curiosity, 
 or other motives, to enter these places, for the purpose of having 
 their fortunes told. When these ladies are informed of the true 
 character of the houses they have thus penetrated, and the real 
 business of many of the women, whose fortune-telling is merely a 
 screen to intercept the public gaze from it, we presume that no 
 one of them will ever compromise her reputation by another 
 visit to these dangerous places. 
 
 People, who know any thing about the subject, wdll not be sur* 
 prised to hear, that most of these humbug sorceresses are now, or 
 have been, in more attractive days, women of the town, and that 
 some of their present dens are vile assignation-houses, in which 
 female visitants will be secretly seen and overheard, and, perhaps, 
 traced home, by the rankest debauchees. Nor will they be sur¬ 
 prised to hear, that these chaste sybils are guilty of infant-murder; 
 or, like the mock intelligence-office men, have an understood part¬ 
 nership with the keepers of houses of ill-fame. Indeed, the greater 
 part of these female fortune-tellers are but doing their allotted 
 part of the work of wholesale seduction, which we have asserted 
 has become so thoroughly systematized in this city. 
 
 In this branch of the vile business, the fortune-teller is the only 
 party whose operations may be known to the public; the other 
 
61 
 
 workers—the masculine go-betweens, who lead the victims over 
 the space intervening between her house and those of deeper 
 shame—are kept very carefully out of sight. 
 
 To expose the part these pernicious procuresses take in the ter¬ 
 rible dramas of seduction and crime constantly going on here, is 
 the object of this chapter. For a more full detail of their general 
 operations, we would refer the reader to a work soon to be is¬ 
 sued, called the “ Witches of New York.” What we most desire 
 now, to fix upon the mind of our reader, is, that there is a straight 
 path between the fortune-teller's den and the brothel^ which has been 
 traveled every year by hundreds of betrayed girls, who, but for 
 the superstitious snares of the one, never would have known the 
 horrible realities of the other. 
 
 Most young girls, particularly those that have not been brought 
 up under the most careful and discreet system of education, have 
 had their heads filled, at a very early age, with nonsense about 
 lovers. The constant perusal of the lower order of novels has, of 
 course, much to do with this; servant-maids, and sewing-girls, 
 and, in fact, most young women who have to earn their daily 
 bread by any kind of manual labor, and who have neither time 
 nor opportunity for rational recreation, seize upon the first reading 
 within their reach, which is, generally, those pernicious works of 
 fiction known as yellow-covered novels. Nor is this all; there 
 is scarce a copy of the popular weeklies issued, that does not con¬ 
 tain a chapter spiced with intrigue or seduction; so that a child 
 scarce begins to read before its mind becomes tainted with evil. 
 Every one of these readers soon fancies herself a heroine, and has 
 her lovely bosom stuffed with her sentimental sorrow and romantic 
 woe. She is constantly on the watch for the “young prince,” 
 or what, in this country, is about the same thing, the “ rich south¬ 
 erner,” who is to come and carry her off, and make her mistress 
 of a splendid mansion, with troops of servants, black or white, to 
 do her bidding. 
 
 From tliis sort of exciting trash to books that are, in reality, 
 palpably obscene, the transition is easy; and many a girl finds 
 herself reading, with pleasure, a very objectionable book, from the 
 pages of which she would have turned with loathing only a few 
 6 
 
02 
 
 months before; and thus is prepared to yield herself readily to 
 temptatioa. 
 
 To see how the fortune-teller performs her part, let us suppose 
 a case. 
 
 A young, credulous girl, whose mind has been poisoned by the - 
 class of fictions above referred to, is induced to visit a modem 
 witch, for the purpose of having her “ fortune told.” The woman 
 is very shrewd, and perceives, in a moment, the kind of customer 
 she has to deal with. Understanding her business well, she is 
 perfectly aware that love and marriage—courtship, lovers, and 
 wedded bliss—are the subjects which are most agreeable, and lays 
 her course accordingly. 
 
 She begins by complimenting her customer; “such beautiful 
 eyes, such elegant hair, such a cliarming form, and graceful man¬ 
 ners, are altogether too fine for a servant or working-girl.” She 
 must surely be intended for a higher station in life, and she will 
 certainly attain it. She will rise in the world, by marriage, and 
 will one day be one of the finest ladies in the land. Her husband 
 will be the handsomest man she has ever seen, and her children 
 will be the most beautiful in the world. Fortune-tellers always 
 foretell many children to their female customers; for the instinct 
 of maternity, the yearning desire for offspring is one of the strong¬ 
 est feelings of human nature. 
 
 Much more of this sort is said; and if the witch finds her talk 
 eagerly listened to, she knows exactly how to proceed. She ap¬ 
 points days for other visits; for she desires to get as many half- 
 dollars out of her dupe as she can. Meantime, the girl has been 
 thinking of what she has heard, has pictured to herself a brilliant 
 future—a rich husband—every luxury and enjoyment—and, upon 
 the whole, has built so many castles in the air, that her brain is 
 half bewildered. Even though she may not believe a tittle of what 
 is said to her, feminine curiosity will generally lead her to make a 
 second visit; and when the fortune-teller sees her come upon a 
 like errand, a second time, she sets down her prey as tolerably 
 sure, and lays her plans accordingly. 
 
 She goes on to state to the girl, in her usual rigmarole style, 
 that she will, in a few weeks, meet with a lover; and perhaps she 
 may receive a present of jewelry; and by that she will know that 
 
68 
 
 the “ handsome young man” has seen, and been smitten by, her 
 many charms. 
 
 When the half-believing girl has gone, the scheming sorceress 
 calls to her aid her confederate in the game—the party who is to 
 personate “ the handsome young man.” This is usually a spruce¬ 
 looking fellow, who makes this particular kind of work his regular 
 business; or it may be some rich debauchee, who is seeking an¬ 
 other victim, will come and lie in wait, either behind the curtain, 
 or in the next room, where, through some well-contrived crevice, 
 he can see and hear all that is going on. One or the other of these 
 men it is that is to assist the witch in fulfilling her prophecies; 
 who is, at the proper time, to be in the way, to personate the 
 “young beau,” or “rich southerner,” and to induce her to visit a 
 house of assignation, or, in some way, accomplish her ruin. 
 
 Persons who have been puzzled to know how many of the 
 young fellows get their living who are seen about town, always 
 well dressed, and with plenty of cash, and yet having no appar¬ 
 ently respectable means of getting their living, will find a future 
 solution of their questions in this explanation. Many of these 
 men are “kept” by their mistresses, or by the proprietors of houses 
 of ill-fame; in the latter case, to make acquaintance with strangers, 
 and to bring business to those houses. They are often very fine- 
 looking and well-appearing men, and possessed of good natural 
 abilities; but, from laziness, or crime, or some other cause, adopt 
 the meanest possible business a man can stoop to. Humiliating 
 as this may seem, and degrading as it is to poor human nature, 
 what we state is, nevertheless, the literal truth. 
 
 But, to come back to our supposed case. A few days after her 
 visit to the witch, the girl actually does, perhaps, receive a pres¬ 
 ent, as the witch predicted; this not only pleases her vanity and 
 love of admiration, but disposes her to put confidence in the powers 
 of the fortune-teller to read coming events. Straightway the de¬ 
 luded girl goes again to the witch, to tell how things have follow¬ 
 ed out, as she foretold, and to seek further light upon the subject. 
 It is now the cue of the prophetess to describe the young man. 
 This she does in glowing terms; never failing to endow him with 
 a large fortune; . and the poor girl goes away with her head more 
 turned than ever. 
 
 f 
 
64 
 
 Some of these “fortune-tellers” advertise that they can “show 
 the likeness of the future husband,” which is done in a mysterious 
 way, by having the person look in a dark sort of box, where the 
 dim outline of a human face is just visible, and which may look 
 as much like one man as another; but which is never distinct 
 enough to leave any decided impression on the mind, unless the 
 fortune-teller has some particular object in view. 
 
 Enraptured with a description of the person, or sight of the pic¬ 
 ture, of her supposed fond lover, the deluded girl is now all anxiety 
 to see him in person. The witch accordingly gives her some mag¬ 
 ical powder (price one dollar, or more), which she is to put under 
 her pillow every night, for seven nights, or wear next her heart 
 for nine days, or some other nonsense of that kind, at the end of 
 which time, she is told to take the ferry-boat to Hoboken, or some 
 such place, at about such an hour in the afternoon, and some¬ 
 where on her route she will have a sight of the gentleman she is 
 now almost crazed to see. The result is plain—an acquaintance 
 commences, and the girl is ruined. 
 
 We have thus been particular to give, step by step, the details 
 of the mode of management pursued in these cases. There are, of 
 course, many varieties, dictated by the circumstances of each case, 
 but the general features and the result is the same. The incidents 
 above narrated are the outlines of a real case, in which the end 
 of the conspirators was accomplished; the girl, however, was res¬ 
 cued by the managers of the Magdalene Asylum, and is now lead¬ 
 ing a blameless life. 
 
 As a case in point, and on© too which exemplifies the terrible 
 retribution which sometimes overtakes the wicked, we give the 
 following statement of an affair that happened not long since in 
 a western state. 
 
 A woman, named Marks, who had long practiced the profession 
 of a fortune-teller in this city, was united to a man who had 
 been a professional burglar and thief. He had accumulated a 
 considerable fortune by his desperate course of life, and when he 
 married Mrs. Marks, they decided to go and .spend their honey¬ 
 moon where they were not known, and could live respectable; 
 and accordingly Marks purchased a farm near a flourishing village 
 
65 - 
 
 in Kentucky, where, with his wife, he resolved to spend several 
 years. 
 
 She having no longer any occasion to practice fortune-telling for 
 a living, did it for amusement; she invited the young ladies of the 
 neighborhood into her house, and passed many a long evening 
 revealing to them the secrets of the stars, and foretelling their 
 several destinies; but the old taste for intrigue revived, and she 
 soon passed from amusement to evil, the destruction of female 
 virtue having became with her a settled habit, if not an uncon¬ 
 trollable passion. 
 
 Many of her prophecies now became true, because she had an. 
 object in having them fulfilled, and she soon acquired a great 
 reputation for prophetic skill, and as Marks appeared wealthy, and 
 every thing about his house and family seemed correct, young 
 women, far and near, visited the place without hesitation on their 
 own part, or objection on the part of their friends. 
 
 Among the young ladies of the village was a very beautiful 
 
 girl, named Mary C.-, who seemed to take an especial interest 
 
 in the fortune-telling powers of her new acquaintance. To this 
 girl she promised that a young man of the most fascinating de¬ 
 scription would soon make his appearance in the place, and pay her 
 his addresses. 
 
 The young man came after a while, in the person of a rich New 
 York debauchee; and as among the greatest places of interest in 
 the neighborhood, soon found his way (as was understood) to Mr. 
 Marks’s house, and to the hearts of the young ladies who visited it. 
 He in a few weeks succeeded in ruining this young lady, and the 
 consequences soon became apparent; on being questioned by her 
 parents, she acknowledged her fall, but laid it as much upon Mrs. 
 Marks as to the very amiable and pleasant young gentleman her 
 betrayer. This declaration led to a storm of indignation against 
 Marks, who plead his own innocence of any knowledge of the 
 affair while it w'as transpiring, and as the young man quit the 
 place at once, and Mrs. Marks denied her participation in the mat¬ 
 ter, the public ire cooled down, until another young lady, the vil¬ 
 lage teacher, was forced to tell a tale similar to that of Miss. C., 
 except that Marks himself was the man she implicated. 
 
 Public opinion was now roused to a fever heat of indignation, 
 6 * 
 
66 
 
 and word was sent Marks that he must leave the state within 
 twenty-four hours, or take the consequences. At the end of that 
 time a messenger was sent to Marks’s house, he, meantime, not 
 having taken any notice of the warning. The man found the 
 house locked, no lights visible, and no appearance of the place 
 being occupied; as he turned to go, however, he was fired upon 
 from one of the upper windows, and his shoulder-blade fractured 
 by a bullet. This so exasperated the neighbors, who had com¬ 
 bined themselves into a sort of vigilance-committee, that they 
 concluded to attack the premises at once. 
 
 They therefore proceeded in a body to the house, and while a 
 number of them kept their rifles steadily aimed at the upper win¬ 
 dows, the rest set fire to the building by means of straw laid to 
 its foundation. When the lower story was quite wrapped in 
 flames, and the heat must have been intolerable in the upper 
 rooms, several shots 'were fired at the Lynchers, but without 
 effect, and a few minutes after a back door flew open, and two 
 persons, in male attire, rushed at full speed down the lane. 
 
 The Lynchers gave chase immediately, and a round of shots 
 brought down one of the fugitives mortally.wounded; this proved 
 to be Marks; his companion took to the bushes, but was soon 
 dislodged, and though apparently wounded by one of five shots 
 fired at the moment, was not brought to the ground until some 
 dozen shots had taken effect; this proved to be Marks’s wife, 
 dressed in man’s clothing. 
 
 This was the terrible end of a burglar and a fortune-teller pro¬ 
 curess, and our country friends everywhere should bring this case 
 to mind whenever a fortune-teller makes her appearance among 
 them. 
 
 After the exposure given above, of the doings of .the witches 
 of New York, we judge our readers will deem it just as respect¬ 
 able to visit a house of assignation as to be seen entering a 
 
 Fortune-teller's Den. 
 
ADVICE TO POOR GIRLS. 
 
 We have no disposition to write disparagingly of our own sex, 
 but duty, at this time, compels us to say to poor girls, and to all 
 girls, that one-half the men are scoundrels, who would not hesitate 
 to rob a woman of her virtue; and, of the other half, that there 
 are but very few who have not need to repeat the prayer, “ Lead 
 us not into temptation;” therefore, say we, to woman, triLst man 
 with fear 
 
 As to your own sex, maiden, it, also, has need to repeat the 
 same prayer, and often; not that you are inclined to evil, but that 
 you are too e&sWj persuaded into it; too easily led into temptation. 
 We believe you to be purer-minded, and to set a higher value up¬ 
 on purity, than man, but we also believe, God made you powerless 
 to the man you love^ and therefore, say we, to young women, fear 
 to trust yourselves. 
 
 You will observe that our aim is not only to warn you of Man’s 
 treachery, but to awaken you to a sense of your own weakness, 
 and thus lead you to avoid placing yourselves in Man’s power. 
 Carefully note, then, the first wrong advance, and draw resolutely 
 back from the first cross ripple of evil, lest you be drawn into, and 
 ultimately engulfed, in the great Maelstrom of social infamy. 
 
 Valv£ your honor as you do your existence. Let the circum¬ 
 stances be what they may, a woman cannot part with her virtue 
 to any man, without sinking at once in his esteem. He imme¬ 
 diately begins to despise her, and she as soon begins to despise 
 herself. No matter into what depths of suttering and want she 
 may have fallen, she enters a lower depth of misery, when she 
 parts with her purity. We counsel no choice of sins, but still con¬ 
 fess we conceive the sin of abandonment to compare unfavorably 
 with that of suicide ; for, in the latter case, instant death shuts off 
 all future crime; while, in the former, the living corpse trails after 
 6 
 
i 
 
 68 
 
 it a whole catalogue of sins, and not unfrequently brings hun¬ 
 dreds to its own terrible fate, by innoculating them with its own 
 corruption. 
 
 Poor, over-tasked, abused, hapless workwoman, envy not the 
 gay girls who flaunt their silk and laces in your face as you pass 
 along the street; their enjoyment is but for a day, and their sor¬ 
 row and their fear come over them every night; excitement and 
 dissipation may make them animated and joyous in the bright sun, 
 or cheerful gas-light, but their dark hours bring them the most bit¬ 
 ter reflections; for well they know that their course is surely down¬ 
 ward; that, at whatever elevation they begin their sinful career, 
 each day as it passes carries them nearer and nearer the Five 
 Points, Blackwell’s Island, or the Potter’s Field, and none ever 
 become so hardened as not to call up, almost daily, this sad picture 
 of their mournful but inevitable fate. 
 
 Resist temptation, then, and cling to your personal purity as you 
 would to your soul's salvation. 
 
 What! is not this enough ? Are your troubles and sufferings 
 so great as to impel you to risk all for the short taste of pleasure 
 a courtesan’s life can procure you ? Let us tell you more, then. 
 Even the little show which so alluringly meets your eye, is, to a 
 great extent, a sham. That fresh-looking, richly-dressed, bejew- 
 eled, joyous-appearing girl, who walks so dashingly along Broad¬ 
 way, and who one would suppose had at her command every 
 thing her heart could desire, may, in fact, be the poorest of the 
 poor—the veriest slave of one woman and the vile convenience of 
 many men. Every particle of her clothing may be the property 
 of her landlady—her gold watch and jewelry borrowed for the oc¬ 
 casion—and, perhaps, her very body mortgaged for her board. 
 Unless the mistress of a man of means, there is scarce a courtesan 
 in New York, who is not in debt to her landlady, and, as a con¬ 
 sequence, is in most cases compelled to surrender herself to any 
 man, however repulsive, who has— money. 
 
 No greater disappointment falls to the lot of mortals than is ex¬ 
 perienced by nine-tenths of the unfortunate women who voluntarily 
 adopt a life of abandonment, in the vain hope of securing a few years 
 of ease and pleasure. 
 
 But the picture is not yet complete. A late case came before 
 
69 
 
 our courts, which developed the fact, that, in this city, women 
 have been inveigled into dens of infamy, and there imprisoned for 
 months, during which time they were robbed of all their sinful 
 wages, beaten and other^vdse brutally abused; and, sometimes, 
 when escaping, have been arrested for theft^ and brought back by 
 the police, beaten again, and still held in bondage. 
 
 Can more be said to deter a young woman from entering upon 
 a life of infamy ? 
 
 But what shall we say to you who have already been betrayed 
 and outraged, who are what you are, not by your own free will, and 
 who see nothing before you but the dread fate we have predicted ? 
 
 Our advice is that you make instant efforts to save yourselves. 
 
 If you have already “ loved not wisely but too well,” in this state 
 the law (and so in other states) will give you redress. In New York 
 the seducer has the choice of the penitentiary or marriage with 
 his victim. Let not shame then deter you from demanding of 
 your betrayer the fulJUnient of Ms promises. If your cause be 
 just, let both hope and desperation nerve you to the effort. On 
 the one hand is a life of respectability, and on the other, one of 
 infamy. The shame of a half-hour’s confession may save you from 
 a life of shame. Go at once then, to your mother, or some other 
 kind-hearted matronly relative, or to a clergyman’s wife, and leave 
 it to them to acquaint your male relatives of your misfortune, and 
 if they be men they will see you righted in any event, and the 
 heart and sense of the community will be with them. 
 
 This matter of shame has caused thousands of girls to sink into 
 hopeless misery, who, through the exercise of a wise determina¬ 
 tion on the part of themselves and protectors, might have been 
 saved to lives of respectability and usefulness. Kuined by false 
 promises, or fraud, or force, they have preferred suicide or a life 
 of abandonment to an exposition to their friends of their misfor¬ 
 tune, while many a father turns an unfortunate daughter from his 
 door when he should have demanded justice for her of her be¬ 
 trayer, and made a business of securing it. 
 
 This sealing of the lips from pride or shame is exactly what the 
 seducer counts upon; and hence he is reckless in his promises, un¬ 
 scrupulous in his frauds, and daring in his outrages. The com¬ 
 munity must protect itself against these viUains by depriving 
 
TO 
 
 them of this feeling of security and impunity; it must take the 
 sense of the law (which is, that the man, and not his victim, is 
 justly responsible for the evil,) as its guide, and by zealously en¬ 
 couraging and aiding the injured to bring all seducers to speedy 
 justice, unmistakably evince that it is now prepared to vent its 
 scorn and indignation upon the betrayer, instead of, as formerly, 
 upon the betrayed. 
 
 In years past the traffickers in female virtue, in this city, have 
 had every thing their own way. A poor innocent girl once within 
 their toils was utterly lost; if inveigled into a house of ill-fame 
 she would be imprisoned there; and even should she get a note 
 to a city official little or no notice would be taken of it. With 
 her outside clothes purposely kept from her, what sort of plight 
 would she be in to pass through our crowded thorou^fares 
 in search of the Police-office; and when there, how could she be 
 expected to stand up and tell the story of her unwilling shame to 
 half-unbelieving men? What sensitive female would not prefer 
 suicide or the remaining where she was to this ? 
 
 Now, thanks to Mayor Tiemann, who has taken their case in 
 hand, the well-meaning, friendless girl can pour her tale of sor¬ 
 row into the ready ear of one of her own sex, and have a strong 
 arm put forth to shield or rescue her. 
 
 Mrs. Foster, the kind-hearted matron of the Tombs, has been 
 instructed to give an especial hearing to complaints of this char¬ 
 acter, and our energetic Mayor has given such directions as will 
 place policemen at her disposal when necessary. 
 
 We state this on authority. 
 
 So, deceived, deluded, or abducted young woman, take cour¬ 
 age ; if you wish to escape from a life of infamy, make your way 
 to the street and to Mrs. Foster at the Tombs; send to her, or to 
 the Mayor, a note explaining your position and location, and a gen¬ 
 tlemanly officer will bo dispatched to rescue you. 
 
 If you have been betrayed by a false promise of marriage, and 
 your cause is without a question just, bring your case before the 
 Mayor, for his words are as applicable to tliis as to other cases, in 
 which he has said— 
 
 “ Send all the unfortunates to me, I wiU avenge their wrongs and 
 redress their injuries 
 
APPEAL TO THE PUBLIC. 
 
 World of fashion and of money-getting, turn for a moment your 
 selfish and greedy eyes from crinoline and laces—from dollars and 
 dimes—and take one realizing look at a strife constantly going on 
 before you, and you shall see a sight that will thrill with horror, 
 even that seared and callous thing, the Heart of the World. 
 
 Behold an army of women—not of warlike Amazons arrayed 
 with greaves and helmet, with waving plume and glittering shield, 
 with bended bow and deadly spear, marching proudly forth to 
 defy and conquer man in terrible battle, as ’tis said was done in 
 days of old—but you shall see an army of helpless maidens, with 
 no protecting armor but their innocence, and only the conscious¬ 
 ness of purity to guide their footsteps amid the thousand mines 
 and pitfalls sunk on every side for their inexperienced feet by 
 Man —their arch-enemy in the great battle of life. 
 
 The story of some vengeful demon slaughtering yearly a thou¬ 
 sand virgins in a single province, would be the saddest page of 
 history ever penned; the spectacle of a host of ten thousand 
 young women going forth every year from dear homes and happy 
 firesides to perish in some cholera-infected city, would be the most 
 painful sight the mind could conceive, and yet this terrible pic¬ 
 ture is fully realized in the terrible fate—^worse than death— 
 which surely awaits a like number of ill-starred females ever}' 
 year, in this our city and vicinity—and who lifts a hand to pre¬ 
 vent it ? 
 
 Were the whole United States army to be destroyed by the 
 plague in a twelve-month, how startled would the community be? 
 and yet a mass of females, equal to the actual force of the Federal 
 army, perish annually—are changed to living sepulchers every 
 year—and who lifts a hand to prevent it ? 
 
 Government can see in this thing only a social disease, and 
 treats it with hospitals, alms-houses, and prisons; the press makes 
 of it interesting paragraphs and humorous items; the pulpit 
 preaches temporal and eternal condemnation as its duty in the 
 
T2 
 
 case; and the Magdalen Societies, like a few life-boats scattered 
 amidst a wrecked armada, save scarce enough to make a count. 
 
 Society deals only in palliatives; it ignores prevention^ the only 
 practical remedy for this monstrous evil. 
 
 And what can it do in the work of prevention ask you? We 
 will be content at this time to name two measures: 
 
 First. Improve the health and physical condition of females 
 among the upper classes; as it now is, three-fourths of them be¬ 
 come invalids when they become mothers, and this thing of itself 
 sends abroad thousands of men in the prime of life, with educa¬ 
 tion, position, accomplishments, and wealth to back them, to 
 prey upon the middle and lower classes. This excuse is in the 
 mouths of nine-tenths of the men claiming to be respectable, who 
 support hpuses of assignation. Society may not admit the suffi¬ 
 ciency of the excuse, but it cannot deny the fact upon which it is 
 based. 
 
 So, effeminate votaries of luxury, indolence, and fashion, you 
 are in part responsible for the misfortunes of your humbler sisters, 
 as well as the neglect of your husbands. 
 
 Second. Society should encourage marriages among the hum¬ 
 bler classes by a systematic effort to place agreeable domicils— 
 homes —within their reach. Within the past few years millions 
 of dollars have been expended in tli^s city to erect palace-like 
 stores for the housing of goods—not a dollar for comfortable 
 dwellings to shelter the head of the class whose labor created 
 both goods and buildings. It is well that the steamship-building 
 story of employment for our workingmen proved false, for the 
 money would have been wasted in such an enterprise. But if the 
 millionaire, whose name was connected with that myth, wishes to 
 secure for himself a deeper reverence in the hearts of our honest 
 poor than could the erection of all the free libraries that could be 
 built between the Battery and Harlem; and to establish for him¬ 
 self an honored fame that will endure so long as New York shall 
 exist, let him devote his immense means to erecting onodel dwellings 
 for the worthy industrious poor. The age demands this move¬ 
 ment, and lasting honor will attend the man who takes the lead in 
 this most practical means for the prevention of every species of 
 vice and crime in our cities and elsewhere. 
 
■F 
 
 
 
WOMAN: 
 
 “God’s greatest trust, as well as Heaven’s best gift to mac.” 
 
TRICKS AND TRAPS 
 
 OF 
 
 NEW YORK CITY. 
 
DESIGN OF THIS WORK. 
 
 The object of this book is to guard young women 
 
 AGAINST THE MOST BLIGHTING EVIL THAT CAN POSSIBLY ASSAIL 
 THEM ; to warn them of the snares and temptations that beset 
 them everywhere—but particularly in great cities, where syste¬ 
 matic villains and systematic villany are constantly striving to 
 mesh them. 
 
 It is by no means difficult to prepare an interesting book upon 
 this subject—one which will be eagerly sought after and read ; 
 but the strait lies in leading the young to a wholesome contem¬ 
 plation of the evil without their becoming fascinated by it—to 
 induce fear and self-apprehension, and not stimulate a dangerous 
 curiosity—in lifting the vail and exposing the character and 
 extent of the sin, and still be able to neutralize the dangerous 
 effect of so vast an example. 
 
 A man of heart may well deliberate if he conceives that the future 
 of even orie mortal hangs upon his pen; and hesitate long when 
 he knows, whatever the merits of the book he designs to put 
 forth, thousands will read it from curiosity alone, and be influenced 
 thereby for good or for evil. 
 
 The writers have considered all this, and still decide to go on. 
 They conceive there is not a particle of information which this 
 book contains, which will not reach its readers in some way if 
 they live to the allotted age of humanity. How much better, 
 then, to go through the world with a knowledge of its dangers, 
 and our own weaknesses, than to run blindfold among snares and 
 pitfalls. 
 
 Some may argue that information of this character should be 
 gradually imparted to the unsophisticated; that they should grow 
 in knowledge as they grow in years. The reply is, that in view 
 of the character of the matter which forms the staple of most of 
 the weekly sheets which now reach every fireside in the land, the 
 young are already possessed of such knowledge; they have the 
 bane without the antidote. 
 
 1 * 
 
INTRODUCTION TO PART FIRST. 
 
 It requires 6,000 fresh victims to supply the yearly 
 demands created by the “ greatest of social evils” for this 
 city of (including suburbs) one million inhabitants, and 
 most of these unfortunates are brought to their infernal 
 market by intrigue, deception, and force; they are the 
 victims of ignorance, heedlessness, and conspiracy. Will 
 any one, then, question the necessity of a work of warning 
 like to this of ours? 
 
 There are two offenses against female virtue known to 
 the laws. First, Seduction^ or the debauching a woman 
 under promise of marriage; and. Second, Mahing her a 
 courtezan^ or accomplishing her ruin for the purpose of 
 inducing her to practice indiscriminate intercourse for sake 
 of gain. 
 
 All the arts practiced in the first division of this subject 
 are put in play to bring about the second; but, having 
 faith to believe that most cases of female dissoluteness are 
 the result of pecuniary necessities, and therefore confined 
 mainly to the lower or needy classes, we shall make two 
 divisions of the subject, taking up the last named in this 
 
7 
 
 volnme, and reserving the equally sad, though less revolt¬ 
 ing portion of our theme, and which refers mainly to the 
 higher classes, for Part Second. 
 
 We cannot help again recurring to the responsibility we 
 feel in issuing a work of this kind, the more especially as 
 since its announcement, our publishers have received numer¬ 
 ous orders, signed with initials^ as if the customer classed the 
 book among the “ yellow-covered” literature of the day, 
 and was ashamed to be known as its purchaser. 
 
 Now we wish to say to such persons, and to all persons, 
 that our principles and those of our publishers are akin 
 to the shade of our book-covers—Quaker-like—that is, 
 straightforward, open, and honest; and that all concerned 
 are agreed that if our books are found to be doing actual 
 evil, instead of, as we designed, practical good, then shall 
 the offensive editions be burned, and the offending plates be 
 melted; and we hereby invite, and pledge ourselves, kindly 
 to receive and carefully to consider, any strictures upon this, 
 or any wmrk of our series, which the friends of good morals, 
 or good citizenship, may see fit to send to us. 
 
DANGEROUS ACQUAINTANCE. 
 
 “A stranger’s card is a poor letter of introduction.” 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 % 
 
 Procurers and Procuresses. 
 
 Startling as is the assertion, it is nevertheless true, that the 
 traffic in female virtue is as much a regular business, systematically- 
 carried on for gain, in the city of New York, as is the trade in boots 
 and shoes, dry" goods and groceries. 
 
 Y'ithin three miles of the City Hall are four hundred houses of 
 ill fame, containing not less than four thousand abandoned females; 
 and the police returns show that the whole number of professedly 
 dissolute women in New York cannot be short of twenty-jive thou¬ 
 sand; and, as the average life of courtesans is about five years, 
 and it is unreasonable to suppose but that comparatively few wo¬ 
 men adopt so degrading a profession from choice, the reader can 
 easily realize what a host of unhappy females have to be procured 
 to sustain this sad army of unfortunates. 
 
 These ill-starred women are but to the slightest extent gathered 
 from the higher ranks of society; for although, in those superior 
 social circles in which the privileged “upper ten” are supposed 
 only to revolve, the most fearful developments of crime are some¬ 
 times made, they fall without the compass of this first part of our 
 work; the females at that end of the social ladder are rarely with¬ 
 out friends who, by their power and position, are enabled to de¬ 
 mand and enforce some kind of redress for the wrong accomplished, 
 and to compel the base seducer to marry, or otherwise provide for, 
 the one he has betrayed; wliile the villain himself very seldom has 
 in view the making merchandise of his victims. 
 
 The prey sought by the nefarious traders, whose appellation 
 heads this chapter, is found in the middle and lower ranks of the 
 community; their victims are gathered from the ymarly imports- 
 
10 
 
 tions of young girls from the country, who come here to learn 
 trades or go out to service; are found by scores among the desti¬ 
 tute classes in this city and vicinity, and by hundreds in the emi¬ 
 grant ships which weekly touch our wharves. 
 
 It is a mistake, however, to suppose that all these ill-fated wo¬ 
 men, who are leading the life of a courtesan, have once known 
 virtue; for it is a melancholy fact that hundreds of them have 
 never been else than what they are. Inheriting the miseries of their 
 parents, they were inoculated with evil from their very babyhood, 
 and have scarcely experienced one sentiment of purity and good¬ 
 ness in their whole weary life. It is necessary to realize this, in 
 order to conceive it possible for a woman to make the ruining of 
 her own sex the settled business of her life. It is from females of 
 this stamp that the most noted procuresses spring, and who are 
 the most wicked and determined in their efforts to lead astray 
 young women, and to keep filled the ranks of those hosts of fallen 
 angels with which all large cities teem. 
 
 These soul-less women are not necessarily denizens of Water- 
 street or the Five Points, clothed in unsightly rags, and redolent 
 of bad rUm ; they pervade the social scale through almost every 
 grade, and are perhaps quite as often attired in silks and satins, 
 and beautified with the costliest cosmetics. 
 
 The higher class of procuresses frequently pass themselves off as 
 the wives of absent, or the relicts of defunct sea-captains. Them¬ 
 selves of American or English birth, they assume to have been 
 orplians, and to have married foreigners, in order to account for 
 the limited knowledge their acquaintances have of their antece¬ 
 dents ; and, aided by their gray hairs (for, with such, avarice and 
 intrigue become a passion increasing with their years) and the 
 partial indorsement of “ gentlemen of respectability and standing,” 
 whose base designs they are serving, these female “ serpents” are 
 enabled to move in a quiet, unobtrusive way, in very good society, 
 fanning in each young matron, or maiden, every indication of im¬ 
 purity their keen perceptions detect, and effectually seconding the 
 base seducer’s plots. One of this stamp, the pretended widow of 
 a West India sea-captain, has for twelve years owned a handsome 
 country-seat in one of the New England States, at which she 
 passes the hot months in the most respectable manner; but, true 
 
11 
 
 to her instincts and her tastes, she spends most of her time at her 
 regular business in this city, where she is the owner and secret 
 manager of two or three splendid assignation houses. This woman 
 takes frequent jaunts in various directions, for the purpose of look¬ 
 ing up, and making the acquaintance, and learning the dispositions 
 o^ handsome and unprotected girls, gay young widows, and vain 
 and discontented wives,—with the sole view of pointing them out 
 to dissolute young and old rascals, who pay her well for her trouble, 
 and who avail themselves of this information, and other agencies, 
 to work the rain of those parties, without further aid from this 
 cunning and heartless monster. 
 
 To show how well perfectly unprincipled women can bear them¬ 
 selves, and how readily people, especially country people, can be 
 taken in and imposed upon, by persons whose very countenance, 
 one would suppose, should bear some warning impress of their ne¬ 
 farious calling,—we give the following narrative, taken from an 
 English book, reserving the account of some of a similar character, 
 occurring nearer home, for the “ Second Part” of this work. 
 
 “ While one of these ladies was on a visit to the north of Scot¬ 
 land, escorted by two of her young female friends, the post-chaise 
 in which they were traveling broke down near the parish manse. 
 The benevolent and compassionate minister, seeing three well- 
 dressed females in a state of considerable distress and alarm at the 
 accident which had befallen them, stepped forward to their assist¬ 
 ance, and gave them a warm invitation to retire to the manse till 
 such time as the vehicle was repaired and ready to convey them on 
 their journey. From a message that afterward arrived from the 
 carpenter in a neighboring village, it was learned that it was impos¬ 
 sible to repair the accident earlier than the following morning; 
 so that immediate arrangements were made to accommodate the 
 ladies for the night. When the eldest of the three ladies apolo¬ 
 gized for the trouble they had reluctantly brought upon the fam¬ 
 ily, the minister expressed sorrow for the accident which had de¬ 
 tained them on their journey; but observed that, for his own part, 
 he was exceedingly glad of any accident, unattended with danger, 
 that was the means of bringing ladies, with whose society he was 
 so delighted, to take up their quarters for the night at the manse 
 of-. 
 
12 
 
 “ In the course of the evening’s conversation, the lady, in an¬ 
 swer to some questions of the good divine, said that she belonged 
 to Edinburgh, that the two young ladies who were along with 
 her were her nieces, and that her object in visiting the North was 
 to look at an estate in Aberdeenshire which was for sale, and 
 which she had some intention of purchasing. After this in¬ 
 formation he appeared more anxious than ever to make them 
 comfortable; and repeatedly apologized for not being able to 
 afford them better accommodation, and expressed himself highly 
 honored at having individuals of their rank and circumstances 
 within his house. The next morning, after breakfast, the chaise 
 arrived which was to deprive the reverend gentleman of his dis¬ 
 tinguished guests. AU the inmates of -Manse expressed 
 
 their grief at being so soon deprived of their pleasant company; 
 but hoped that the period was not far distant when they should 
 again be honored with a visit from them. 
 
 “ In return for his hospitality and attention, the lady, before her 
 departure, presented the minister with her card and address, and 
 requested that he would call the first time he was in Edinburgh, 
 and afford her an opportunity of returning his kindness, which he 
 promised to do, 
 
 “ Several months elapsed before the respected minister of- 
 
 had an occasion to visit Edinburgh. He longed more ardently 
 than usual for the next meeting of the G-eneral Assembly, not 
 so much to hear or take part in any important question affecting 
 the interests of the Church, as that he would then have an oppor¬ 
 tunity of calling upon the distinguished lady whom he had the 
 honor of entertaining at his manse. 
 
 “ The period, at length, arrived; and he embraced the first 
 leisure moment he had at his disposal, to present himself at the 
 number of the street indicated by the card, which he had re¬ 
 ceived from the lady at her departure. He was shown into a 
 spacious and weU-fumished apartment, where he remained for 
 about ten minutes before the lady made her appearance. When 
 she entered the room, she felt some difficulty in recognizing her 
 reverend friend, but on his intimating that he was the minister of 
 
 -, she welcomed him to her house with a hearty shake of 
 
 the hand. After receiving wine and cake, and spending some 
 
V 
 
 13 
 
 time in conversation with her, the lady pressed him most kindly 
 to return at five o’clock and take dinner, and also to arrange 
 matters so that he might be enabled to stop at night, and make 
 her house his home so long as he remained in to-wn, all which he 
 readily consented to. 
 
 “At five o’clock, precisely, he returned and rang the door-bell 
 of his respected friend and entertainer. Every thing which he 
 saw convinced him more and more of the high rank in wliich 
 fehe moved. The dinner-table was most tastefully laid out; the 
 dishes were numerous and varied, and the fascinating society of 
 five pretty ladies was not the least interesting part of the enter¬ 
 tainment. 
 
 “ After dinner the young females retired, and he saw no more 
 of them that evening, but spent the remainder of it in the com¬ 
 pany of the old lady alone, with whose shrewd, pleasant, and un¬ 
 affected conversation he was particularly pleased and delighted. 
 After breakfast, the next day, a walk was proposed, to which all 
 parties agreed. 
 
 “ The reverend gentleman politely offered his arm to the old lady, 
 and they were followed by two of the young females whom he 
 had seen at the table the day previous. While the party were 
 walking along Princes-street, they accidentally met with three 
 friends of the minister, one of whom made a kind of halt, as if he 
 wished to speak to him. On his observing this, he asked per¬ 
 mission of his fair companions to be allowed to converse with his 
 friend, which was, of course, granted. 
 
 “The latter at once inquired who the lady was who accom¬ 
 panied him. He immediately related to him the fortunate acci¬ 
 dent by means of which he had got acquainted with her. He told 
 him that he dined at her house yesterday, and slept there all 
 night,, eulogizing, at the same time, her remarkable mental activity 
 and the splendor of her estabhshment. 
 
 “ One might easily conceive the good man’s surprise, grief, and 
 astonishment when he was informed by his friend (who no doubt 
 was a man of the world) that the lady whom he so highly 
 esteemed, and whose friendship he was so desirous of cultivating, 
 'was no other than Mrs. -, the most noted procuress in Edin¬ 
 
 burgh.'" 
 
 2 
 
14 
 
 Now, tliis was a bad position for any gentleman to be brought 
 into; worse for a minister, and would have been still worse had 
 the minister above referred to been accompanied by his daughter; 
 and the lesson taught is, that no gentleman, and particularly no 
 lady, should trust to appearances, and become in any way inti¬ 
 mate with strangers who have no other reference to give than 
 their own word or their own card. 
 
 Ilf is women of this stamp, though mostly of a lower grade than 
 the above, leagued with men as unscrupulous and lost to humanity 
 as themselves, who make a trade of seduction, and ruin unsuspecting 
 girls ty a systematic course which, for its perfect working, requires 
 the co-operative efforts of persons of tooth sexes. 
 
 The grand center and lower deep of this infamous system is the 
 brothel; the upper and outer works are the assignation houses and 
 assignation hotels; the main recruiting stations, the intelligence 
 offices and fortune-tellers’ dens: still further out, its infernal meshes 
 extend in the shape of vile books and pictures, and cunningly con¬ 
 trived advertisements, while its supporters even dispatch agents to 
 the shores of Europe, to return in the emigrant vessels, and enlist 
 victims all the voyage home. In short, like the banking business, 
 although presenting a hundred separate firms or associations, it 
 forms one grand system: tout its capitalis infamy; its circulating 
 medium, corruption; and its dividends, the price of souls. 
 
 The men (procurers) who co-operate in this business are of all 
 grades, from the buUy and pickpocket to the genteel “fancy man:” 
 these latter figure somewhat extensively in the fortune-tellers’ de¬ 
 partment, as we shall show. They are generally men of fine per¬ 
 sonal appearance, and sometimes of fascinating manners; but in 
 view of the degrading service they are expected to render their 
 employers, such as have self-respect or manliness remaining, must 
 view themselves as ranking far below the most common street¬ 
 walker. 
 
 The reader can now see that the parties most interested in this 
 book are the poor working-girls: we are unveiling a vast system¬ 
 atic conspiracy for their destruction; and we hope no false deli¬ 
 cacy will prevent them from perusing it. We think they will find 
 counsel herein, every word of which the kindest father would 
 approve. 
 
16 
 
 This book is published in the hope that among the thousands of 
 females in this city who are engaged in book-binderies, cap-fac¬ 
 tories, millinery establishments, or in many other of the numerous 
 places where girls are employed, there will be found many willing 
 readers upon whom our anxious admonitions will not be thrown 
 away; that among the thousands of girls scattered all through the 
 land, who contemplate coming to this, or to any other city, to earn 
 their livelihood by their own exertions, there are hundreds who 
 will read this book and be benefited thereby. A very large pro¬ 
 portion of such girls are without protectors to point out, or shield 
 them from, the untried dangers of a great city. They must depend 
 upon themselves, and what avails such dependence if they he not 
 enlightened f 
 
 To set before these girls, in the plainest terms consistent with 
 delicacy, the various devices by which their ruin may be sought, 
 to show them where lie the pit-falls that abound on every side, 
 and to make a plain exposition of the systematized plans-to rob 
 them of their virtue, and seduce •r coerce them into dens of in¬ 
 famy,—is our great object. 
 
 lilany will, perhaps, turn up their little noses in scorn, and 
 hunch \ip their little shoulders in coquettish disdain, at the notion 
 that they are not able to “ take care of themselvesbut there will, 
 nevertheless, be some who will ponder, reflect, and be preserved 
 to fair fame and virtuous lives. 
 
 A publication of all the cases of wrong and outrage that have 
 come within the ken of the police of this city within the past year, 
 would make a small library; to reprint the comparatively few that 
 have been known to the public, would All a dozen volumes; and 
 even a list of the attempted and accomplished suicides of unhappy 
 deserted girls would be too long for this book; but we shall, nev¬ 
 ertheless, endeavor to illustrate each chapter with some narrative, 
 true in every respect (save the names), and all the particulars of 
 which can be vouched for by the production of af&davits which 
 have already been sworn to before courts of justicq. 
 
 Fair, innocent reader, may no future writer be able to present 
 your case as a warning example I 
 

 UEGENT BUSINESS. 
 
 “ My dear wife, important business detains me. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 Assignation Houses and Hotels. 
 
 Evert large city abounds in conveniences for the gratification 
 of the baser passions of men, and among the great variety of estab¬ 
 lishments for such purposes, the houses and hotels which form the 
 subject of this chapter figure very largely. For the information 
 of those—alas, too few!—who may not know the exact meaning 
 of the term “house of assignation,” we will here state it. 
 
 It is a bouse in which people meet by mutual appointment for 
 illicit purposes; a place to which they are admitted in considera¬ 
 tion of a stated sum, and where no questions are asked. They are 
 of every grade, from the lowest house of call in the dirtiest by¬ 
 street, to the aristocratic mansion in the most fashionable avenues; 
 and from a kind whose character is notorious, and to which every¬ 
 body has access who can pay the fee, up to those into which the 
 finest-appearing gentleman could not obtain admittance without an 
 introduction, and which the sharpest-eyed citizen would not sus¬ 
 pect unless they were pointed out to him. 
 
 Some of the lesser public houses in New York are no better 
 than assignation houses; and even the largest and best of them 
 are sometimes made such, much against the will of their proprie¬ 
 tors. Mr. Jones takes with him Miss Brown and some trifling 
 baggage, and boldly enters his name as “ Mr. Smith and lady” 
 on the hotel register, and how is the landlord to know them from 
 the most respectable of his guests ? But there are ways in which 
 such parties are detected, and sometimes the presentation of a bill 
 with double charges (to which, if disputed, the clerk adds two 
 mysterious letters) very unmistakably indicates to the intruder 
 that liis room is better than his company, and he is not unfre- 
 2 * 
 
18 
 
 quently dismissed by the gentlemanly proprietor with more boots 
 than bows.* 
 
 In some of the largest cities of the United States there are 
 hotels of rather aristocratic pretensions and appearances, and 
 seemingly most choice in the selection of their boarders, which 
 are nothing in the world but assignation houses and boarding 
 places for kept mistresses. 
 
 People unacquainted with this fact often wonder how these 
 establishments are supported, as they have no transient custom, 
 and apparently few regular boarders. If in good faith a traveler 
 goes to one of them, he is informed that their rooms are all full, 
 and that they have no kind of accommodations for him. But let 
 him watch after dark, and if he was the most charitably inclined 
 person in the world, his eyes would distend at the sight of the 
 close carriages which drive up to the door, and the closely veiled 
 ladies that hastily enter, accompanied by mysterious looking 
 gentlemen. Supper-parties are not unfrequent at these houses, 
 where ladies, of character unimpeachable to the outside world, 
 indulge in convivial excesses that would astonish their careless 
 husbands could they behold it. Many a once respectable woman 
 can date her ruin from the day some lady friend (some West 
 India widow, perhaps) induced her, all unconscious of evil, to 
 make one of a “ small party” for a “little private supper,” at one 
 of these aristocratic places of resort. 
 
 It is in some of these hotels that could be found the “urgent 
 business” that detains certain Western merchants so many weeks 
 of every year in New York, and which never seems to be settled 
 satisfactorily, however frequent may be their visits to the city; 
 and some instances of the unexpected appearance of Western and 
 Southern wives in town, have decidedly disarranged the pleasure- 
 plans of their unfaithful spouses, and occasioned very serious dis¬ 
 turbances in the New York atmosphere. 
 
 Another class of these assignation hotels are those at the termi¬ 
 nation of the “ short drives” from out our large cities; and where 
 private parlors and nice little dinners and suppers are provided, 
 and “ no questions” asked. At one of these, situated a few miles 
 
 * Overlook not oven the best hotels when in search of a lost daughter. 
 
 1 
 
19 
 
 out of Boston, five outrages were committed by a young man in a 
 twelvemonth, either of which, if proved, would consign him to the 
 State’s Prison or the halter: regard for the living victims prevents 
 the affidavits of the now dead, from placing him in the position his 
 crimes entitle him to. 
 
 There is still another class of these places which may be termed 
 private assignation houses; these are generally situated in some 
 quiet, respectable street, with every thing unexceptionable, and 
 nothing noticeable in their appearance, except that the windows 
 are heavily curtained, and there are few signs of life in the day¬ 
 time, or perhaps at any time. No stranger would imagine that in 
 a house of this quiet exterior the most nefarious crimes are habit¬ 
 ually perpetrated, and that hundreds of unwilling victims have 
 been therein robbed of the jewel of their virtue, many of them 
 yielding only wTien exhausted by unavailing struggles, or rendered 
 insensible by poisonous drugs. 
 
 But it is even so; and hundreds of men know this fact well; 
 and hundreds of ruined girls could, and do, render their damning 
 testimony to the veracity of the terrible assertion, that there are 
 assignation houses in the city of New York, where, hy the connivance 
 of the mistress, drugs will be mingled with the wine or other refresh¬ 
 ments, so that a woman partaking of them will he thrown into a state 
 of deep stupor, during which she may he dehauehed, without her 
 knowledge; or she may he forcibly violated despite of her screams 
 and prayers. Nay, mo-re: it is known hy the sworn statements of 
 betrayed girls, that in some houses assistance will he rendered in the 
 latter cases hy the proprietors themselves. 
 
 Horrible as is - this statement, it cannot be doubted, for the 
 affidavits, substantiating these facts, are now on file in the records 
 of the courts. 
 
 All the houses of assignation are not so bad as this, it is true, 
 but there is scarce one from which a young girl can come forth 
 pure as when she entered, if her seducer chooses to use the means 
 which are at his command. 
 
 Another feature of the danger to which unsuspecting young 
 women are exposed, is the character of the men disposed to take 
 advantage of their innocence. It is a strange fact, but one well 
 attested, that the better class of these establishments are supported 
 
20 
 
 by married men, whose position in society places them above the 
 suspicion of such doings, except in the eyes of the very few who 
 have an actual knowledge of their secret ways. ' 
 
 Judges, bankers, merchants, lawyers, and men of even a higher 
 calling, are to be seen mysteriously emerging from the private 
 doors of these places; in fact, it is only by drawing upon such 
 wealthy sources that they can be sustained. 
 
 We have judged it proper to make these remarks in detail, that 
 young girls may see their danger set forth in the plainest possible 
 terms; and we can assure whoever may read this book that our 
 broad assertions come even within the facts. It must be perfectly 
 evident then, that with all these traps on every side of her, and 
 that, too, under such circumstances that the tempter has every 
 facility to compass her ruin, the innocent maiden cannot be too 
 careful and circupaspect 
 
 An agreeable young man seeks her out and makes her acquaint¬ 
 ance ; she is pleased with his pleasant manners and his kind at¬ 
 tentions ; her confidence increases with the acquaintance ; flattery 
 is very pleasant, and she is not exempt from the weaknesses of her 
 sex; a few slight presents come next, inducing admiration of her 
 friend’s generosity, and admiration of this peculiar kind is not far 
 off from love; places of amusement are visited, and some night, 
 after the theater or concert is out, it is proposed to go and obtain 
 some refreshments: then, perhaps, the first wrong advances are 
 made; persuasions are tried; promises are made, vows are 
 sworn, and these too often do not fail; if they do fail, then re¬ 
 source is had to a glass of wine, a stuffed fig, or a peculiarly 
 seasoned oyster-stew; and if necessary, and the man is as great 
 a villain as many men are, he invites her to call with him at his 
 aunt’s, or at his former boarding place (of course a house of assig¬ 
 nation), and he there uses means that never fail. 
 
 Some of the worst affairs of this kind have occurred at the 
 “ out-of-town” hotels we referred to; and which we will illustrate 
 by a case, the type, we presume, of not a few. 
 
 In Boston, previous to 1850, resided a young man of prepossess¬ 
 ing appearance and winning manners. He was the idol of his 
 parents, who belonged to the middle class of society, but who, by 
 inheritance and otheiwrise, became very wealthy; and, of course. 
 
21 
 
 the young man was quite a desirable match—such as ambitious 
 mothers were very anxious to secure for their daughters, and one 
 whose attentions could not but be very flattering to the daughters 
 themselves. 
 
 Want of education and polish kept him voluntarily from asso¬ 
 ciating with the upper ten; his good sense held him clear from 
 the oft-thrown nets of the gambler; he had a constitutional dis¬ 
 taste for alcoholic drinks; and his only extravagance seemed to 
 be in the use rather than the ownership of fine horses, and a 
 singular habit of distributing presents indiscriminately among his 
 lady acquaintances. 
 
 In his moral habits he was apparently perfectly correct; no one 
 in the- city ever saw him in a house, of ill-repute; his language 
 was in no respect exceptionable, nor did he associate at all with 
 fast young men; and yet this seemingly blameless youth was 
 one of the deepest, meanest, and most heartless villains that ever 
 breathed: his sole passion was the destruction of female innocence ; 
 and nothing but what was most beautiful and noble would con¬ 
 tent him.—He was a robber, a destroyer in the worst possible 
 sense. 
 
 His position, wealth, manners, and presents made him a univer¬ 
 sal favorite; he was, as before stated, a desirable match, and his 
 apparently correct habits made him appear a suitor or companion 
 with whom any young lady could be safely trusted. In fact, 
 character was to hi m a great means to carry out his base designs, 
 and he made every thing bend to secure that recommendation. 
 
 In pursuit of his object he would select the most beautiful 
 young lady of his acquaintance, whether a resident or visitant of 
 his city, and in\ute her to a ride, naming always a very early 
 hour in the afternoon, and invariably returning before dusk. It 
 was noticed that after these rides had been repeated a few times, 
 that the intimacy, if not the acquaintance, of the parties termi¬ 
 nated ; but while he continued as cheerful and sociable as ever, 
 the young lady in each case would become sad, and for a time 
 almost heart-broken. The world attributed this to mortification 
 and disappointment in not having secured the young man for a 
 husband; but had not the certainty of adding a second agony— 
 the derision of the world—to that they already suffered sealed 
 
f 
 
 22 
 
 their lips, the parties themselves would have shown that they 
 had suffered at this villain’s hands the worst possible wrong that 
 man can inflict upon woman. 
 
 His custom was to drive to an out-of-town hotel, call for a par¬ 
 lor and dinner, with wine and cordials, for which he paid in the 
 most liberal manner, so as to secure all the attention and dis- 
 attention he desired. When left to themselves, he would discuss 
 with his fair companion the subject of marriage, admit that he 
 was somewhat fickle-minded, but that he had not yet found the 
 woman he could love; but that she (the present company) had 
 charmed him most; still he was free to say (he was then twenty- 
 three) that, under the advice of his parents, he had resolved to 
 make no engagement until he was twenty-five. 
 
 Having enlisted the young woman’s affections, and incited in 
 her some ambitious hopes; and having accustomed her at each 
 visit to the rather free use of wines or cordials, which he slightly 
 and dexterously drugged with his own hand, he would on their final 
 call at the place, through a combination of force and drugging, 
 dishonor her;—and when the weeping, distracted girl had in a 
 measure recovered herself, this human fiend would coolly rea¬ 
 son with her thus:—“None but ourselves know of this affair; 
 if trouble comes of it, I will see you through; it rests entirely 
 with you whether our acquaintance continues. Now, will you be 
 a fool, and expose yourself, or keep your own counsel ?” 
 
 Five noble-hearted girls, such as would have suffered death 
 rather than dishonor, were thus outraged in a twelvemonth r and 
 that they were worthy women is proved by the fact that though they 
 were cast down,^ they were not abased: they “ kept their own 
 counsel," and preserved their position in society, but one of them 
 communicated further with the base villain, and she in all proba¬ 
 bility only through, the necessity of unavoidable circumstances; 
 for she died not many months after of—consumption. 
 
 This account, and much more, came to the ear of our narrator 
 from the lips of the wretch himself, as, when prostrated by a 
 fever, he hung on the verge of eternity: a whole lifetime of un¬ 
 interrupted pleasure could not repay the agony of that one night ; 
 
 * See Introduction to Part Second, 
 
23 
 
 1 
 
 he still exists on earth, but the surety of the dread future he 
 barely escaped from is ever before his eyes. 
 
 Many may deem it strange that such a villain has not met 
 with the fate of a Heberton, a Carter, or a Col. Sharp; but it may 
 be, to use the language uttered by an English advocate upon a 
 late political trial, “ God, who counts the hours of tyrants 
 (seducers as well) keeps them for a worse fate than assassination,” 
 an exemplification of which assertion we shall in a future chapter 
 give a marked example of. 
 
 Another case, occurring to parties in more humble life, and 
 which carried with it a certain amount of retribution on one of 
 the chief actors therein, was the following: 
 
 A young girl, named Clara L-, in August last, came to this 
 
 city from the neighborhood of St. Louis, and obtained employ¬ 
 ment as a milliner in a large establishment in Division-street. She 
 took board with a widow lady in Cherry-street, and seemed well 
 satisfied with her place. 
 
 As long as her work was steady, she obtained her pay promptly, 
 and paid her board with the greatest regularity. But in October 
 came the great financial crisis that .has caused so much misery all 
 over the country; business fell off; and in November the firm 
 by whom she was employed was compelled to suspend operations, 
 and throw all hands out of work. She could not, though she 
 made the most unremitting efforts, obtain employment any where 
 else, for the city was full of people in a similar strait. She had 
 no money to pay her passage back to the West, and was in 
 despair. 
 
 During all this time her hostess had been engaged in many 
 transactions of a nefarious character; but so quietly had she 
 managed things, that Clara never once suspected that the house 
 was other than respectable; and it was to such a woman she 
 was obliged to run in debt for her board. 
 
 The hostess made no objection to this at first, but as weeks 
 wore away she became anxious for her pay, and finally hinted— 
 to her lasting shame be it said—that there was a way in which 
 young and handsome women, hke her boarder, could obtain not 
 only money enough for the necessaries of life, but a sufficiency to 
 secure its luxuries. This hint, unmistakably poJsiing as it did 
 
24 
 
 to the sacrifice of her honor, unspeakably horrified the virtuous 
 Clara, innocent and pure minded as she was, and she retired 
 weeping to her chamber. But the hag was insatiate for her 
 pay, and was not to be thwarted of her purpose by the mere 
 effusion of tears, and she persisted in her attempts to undermine 
 the virtue of the friendless girl. 
 
 Alternately she importuned for the money, and then set before 
 her, in half ‘woroanly half Satanic eloquence, the advantages she 
 might derive, the luxuries obtain, by bringing her personal charms 
 to bear upon the other sex; surrendering their use merely a while, 
 till fortune proved less darkly. A while she urged in vain—and 
 might probably have done so until Doom’s-day, if she had not en¬ 
 listed the services of those whose arguments and entreaties were 
 of other than a verbal nature ; men were introduced to her,—men 
 whose sole object was to seduce her. Their endeavors for days, 
 nights, and weeks were fruitless, but they were finally successful, 
 though only successful through the employment of the most brutal 
 and unmanly means. 
 
 One night, after Clara had retired to her chamber and sobbed 
 herself to sleep, her hostess stealthily entered her room, accom¬ 
 panied by a man who had been the most pressing to Clara in his 
 importunities; by theso two persons she was seized, and ere she 
 could have time to scream out in her terror, she was gagged^ and 
 then the diabolical object of the visit was accomplished. After¬ 
 ward, as she was completely exhausted, cordials were forced down 
 her throat, then opiates, and she was thus induced to sleep. She 
 was kept locked in her room for a few days until she had physic¬ 
 ally recovered from her ill treatment, and then the woman of the 
 house repeated her infamous solicitations. 
 
 Friendless, alone, and unprotected, crushed in spirit, what could 
 the poor girl do ? Without money to take her ftom the hated 
 city, she saw no prospect before her but of being turned into the 
 street to die if she did not yield. She did yield, for her tempta¬ 
 tion was greater than she could bear; she fell, as thousands have 
 before her, the victim of fraud, force, and pecuniary necessities. 
 
 Henceforth all was changed with the fallen girl; calico gave 
 place to lawn, and lawn to silk; she throve in purse but grew 
 sick in souL 
 
25 
 
 And her hostess—did remorse seize her at seeing the consum¬ 
 mation of her diabolical purpose ? not so; she received her money 
 now, weekly—not the beggarly pittance the poor milliner girl had 
 been wont to pay her, but a rich, handsome sum. Not then did 
 remorse seize her, but- 
 
 A most terrible retribution was in store for her. Justice, though 
 blind, still exists, and occasionally gives fearful and indubitable 
 evidence of vitality. 
 
 A gentleman called one day at the house to see the landlady. 
 He proved to be a mutual acquaintance of herself and her hus¬ 
 band, from whom she had been divorced for fifteen years, and had 
 not since seen. 
 
 He was invited into the parlor; the girl once pure, now fallen, 
 was there. He was presented; a glance of recognition passed 
 between them; he saw in her the daughter of the woman of the 
 house ; the very woman who had planned and accomplished her ruin, 
 A scene that beggars all description immediately ensued; even 
 could it be depicted, it should not be. At its close the daughter 
 left the house immediately, and taking to the street, has since 
 pursued a most abandoned life in spite of all efforts to reclaim 
 her. 
 
 “ Too latel” she cries, “too late!”—and down her throat rum 
 is poured almost incessantly, making it altogether probable that 
 she will not survive the year. 
 
 She, it appears, was surrendered to her father at the time he 
 was divorced from her mother, and was for years supported by 
 him in a distant Western city, where he resided, under an assumed 
 name, until he died; and then his daughter, through some strange 
 fatality, came to New York and took up her abode with her 
 mother. 
 
 ‘ Horrible as is this case, it can be matched by many others with 
 details equally revolting; but enough. We think sufficient has 
 been said fully to enlighten our readers respecting the character, 
 temptations, and perils of Assignation Houses and Hotels, 
 
 3 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 Mock Intelligence Offices. 
 
 Hundreds of recruits to the ranks of miserable women are 
 taken from the intelligence offices; by far the greater portion of 
 these are not only useless, but pernicious establishments. Ask 
 any honest New York citizen where there is an employment 
 agency that can be depended upon, and the ready reply will be, 
 “I know of scarce one !” But the imposing of incompetent serv¬ 
 ants upon their patrons, or the fleecing of poor girls out of their 
 advance money, under the pretense of providing them good places, 
 is not the worst feature of these concerns. Many of them are but 
 the gate-ways of infamy—the outer portals of houses of ill-fame. 
 
 It is not true, as many suppose who have only hastily entered 
 such offices in order to supply the place of a cook or chambermaid 
 who have departed suddenly in a ‘ huff.” that none but Irish or 
 German girls are to be found therein; there are often many 
 American and English girls to be found among the long rows of 
 disconsolate looking maidens who are seated on the bare benches 
 of the intelligence office. 
 
 Sometimes, too, ladies of refinement and education, who desire 
 places as governesses or teachers in private families, who can¬ 
 not afford the money to pay for a continued advertisement in the 
 newspapers, and who, having no influential friends to recommend 
 them to others, or secure their services for themselves, are fain to 
 take the slim chances of the employment office; so they pay the 
 regular fee for sitting, day after day, to be stared at, until their 
 good luck throws a beam of light across their path in the shape 
 of a generous employer, or, most likely, until they get wearied 
 out waiting and come no more. 
 
28 
 
 The great majority of females who resort to intelligence offices 
 are of course strangers in the city, and ignorant of its wicked 
 ways; for as soon as a girl makes a good acquaintance in town, or 
 once gets a place, if she is of good character and possesses a capable 
 hand and willing heart, she will have no further difficulty, since in 
 ordinary times of prosperity there is plenty of work for all who 
 choose to labor, even in cities. 
 
 Girls from the country, who have come to town, as the English 
 youths of old used to go to London, “ to seek their fortunes,” and 
 those who come over in the emigrant ships and do not push on to 
 the broad prairies of the West, are in a position to be easily cheat¬ 
 ed and taken advantage of in their search for employment, both 
 as to wages and situation. When one of them is selected by a 
 “ customer,” she does not know the character of that person, nor 
 has she any way of ascertaining the reputation of the house to 
 which she is to be taken; and she may be inveigled into a den 
 of infamy or a house of “ assignation,” or any other place of misery 
 and shame, without any means to discover the fact, until she has 
 had actual experience of the truth. 
 
 Servants who have ever been employed in the city are always 
 required to bring with them a “ character”—a written recom¬ 
 mendation from their last place—setting forth their capacity and 
 testifying to their honesty and trust-worthiness. If this rule were 
 reversed, or made to work both ways, a good end would be 
 answered. If employers were obliged to “approve themselves 
 good men and true,” to the persons they wished to hire, and if 
 ladies were compelled, on the requisition of the girl they wished 
 to engage, to produce testimonials of the respectability of their 
 houses and of their own good moral character, it would perhaps 
 be found to be for the good of the employees, however trouble¬ 
 some and annoying it might prove to the employers. 
 
 “ An' plaze, sir, will the missis show her certificate ?” said a 
 smart, handsome, Irish lass, to the employment man, who was 
 endeavoring to persuade her to go home with a coarse, sinister- 
 looking, over-dressed boarding-house landlady. And Biddy was 
 right; her reputation was of as much account to herself as could 
 anybody’s be to themselves. And we would say to Bridget, and 
 Kate, and Maggy, and the whole of them, “If your would-be em- 
 
29 
 
 ployer aoes not carry her “ certificate” or “ recommend” in her 
 face, and manners, and the tones of her voice, then respectfully 
 {always respectfully) decline to engage; and if urged hard, ask for 
 the lady's ceriificaie. 
 
 Of course, among the throngs of women of all ages, and of all 
 classes in society, who resort to the intelligence offices for situa¬ 
 tions, there must be a large number who possess a good share of 
 personal beauty; who are comely as to the face and trim as to 
 the figure. And here it is that beauty is a curse and a snare; 
 and better would it have been for many a young woman had she 
 been freckled and pock-marked, had she been round-shouldered 
 and limped, than being perfect of feature and form, to have attract¬ 
 ed the eye of some vile man or soul-merchandising woman. 
 
 When a girl presents herself as a candidate for a “place,” her 
 name and qualifications are taken, and a fee required. This is a 
 ceremony never omitted—the money in all cases being demanded 
 in advance; having secured the cash, the clerk next gives the 
 applicant a list of ladies who want girls, and she sets out in search 
 of them; but of the list given her perhaps half the parties have 
 had all their help engaged for a month, and have repeatedly ad¬ 
 vised the employment man of the fact. 
 
 Or she is seated in a room with numbers of others, and people 
 who desire “ help” come in and examine them, looking hard in 
 their faces, asking about their ages and their qualifications in a 
 loud tone of voice, making them stand up that they may examine 
 their size and strength, and treating them more like slaves in a 
 southern market, or cattle in a farm-yard, than like respectable 
 girls in a free country, whose only misfortune is that they are 
 dependent and poor. 
 
 A girl is compelled by the force of circumstances to put a cer¬ 
 tain amount of trust in the employment agent, and to take his 
 word as to the desirability of the places he proposes, and the re¬ 
 spectability of the parties who may seek to engage her. As the 
 man has received his fee, and has no hope of getting any more 
 money out of liLs customer, his only desire is to get rid of her 
 and have her off his hands as soon as possible, that her place 
 may be taken by some one el^. He is therefore not at all scru¬ 
 pulous of recommending any vacant place he may happen to be 
 
 3 * 
 
80 
 
 aware of, as “most desirable,” “light, easy work,” “kind mis¬ 
 tress,” “sure pay,” &c., without, in one case out of a dozen, really 
 knowing any thing of the circumstances of the case, or hesi¬ 
 tating to misrepresent them, if he did. 
 
 It will be seen, of course, that by this system the “ hona-fide" 
 employers, who are silly enough to put any faith in these shops, 
 are as badly swindled as the servants. It is even said that some 
 of the employment agents have a number of female thieves, for 
 whom they get places, as servants, in respectable families, and 
 afterward share with them the stolen goods they may abstract; 
 and there is often a third set of rascals in this nice little partner¬ 
 ship— burglars, who are informed by the servant accomplice of the 
 quantity of valuables in the house, and other important par¬ 
 ticulars, and who enter the dwelling by doors and windows pur¬ 
 posely left unfastened by these servant girls. 
 
 Be all this as it may, w^e have no particular business with it 
 now, except that it answers as a corroborating circumstance in 
 defense of our broad assertion, that many of the intelligence offices 
 of New York are intimately connected with houses of ill-fame, and 
 make no inconsiderable portion of their revenue through inducing 
 virtuous girls to enter unknowingly places where they are speedily 
 brought to ruin. So that whenever a girl of unusual personal 
 beauty or particularly pleasing manners comes into an office of 
 this description, she is detained by promises of an “excellent 
 situation,” that will just suit her, until the procuress is sent for, 
 and this latter personage, upon receiving the intelligence, imme¬ 
 diately hurries down to secure the game. 
 
 It has been proved that some of these keepers of employment 
 offices have received a premium—so much per head for every girl 
 they would betray into the hands of the spoilers. This is par¬ 
 ticularly the case with those who do not advertise their place of 
 business, and are, therefore, comparatively little knowm to the 
 public; and such make more money by far from being accessory 
 to the betrayal of virtue, than from the legitimate business they 
 profess to be engaged in. 
 
 But all the intelligence offices are not of this character. The 
 most reliable of them are those that are under the control of 
 Societies for Improving the Condition of the Poor, and which 
 
SI 
 
 were established in part on account of the existence of the very 
 abuses we have named; and should some of our readers doubt 
 any assertions made in this chapter, we think they will have but 
 to call at the offices provided by these charitable associations to 
 find them sustained in every particular. We have no doubt 
 there are others that are trustworthy, but they are few in number, 
 for their honesty has stood in the way of their success. 
 
 We will now proceed to a few remarks upon the manner in 
 which unsuspecting young girls are led to ruin through the efforts 
 and connivance of employment agents. 
 
 Any one who has passed an hour in one of these places has 
 hardly failed to see a richly-attired woman, in whose dress there 
 are generally more colors than in the rainbow, sweep in and gaze 
 inquiringly into the faces of the expecting girls in waiting; and 
 if she finds none that are particularly pretty looking, she imme¬ 
 diately takes her leave after a little chat with the proprietor; but 
 if there be one present of prepossessing appearance, she ad¬ 
 dresses her in the kindest manner, and always terminates idle con¬ 
 versation with engaging her. The girl is promised good wages and 
 easy times, and is generally much pleased with the appearance 
 of her mistress, for this style of woman perfectly understands how 
 to assume manners which will disarm suspicion where parties 
 are not on the look-out for evil characters. 
 
 That woman is the keeper of a house of iU-fame ; and woe be to 
 the girl who trusts herself to her tender mercies. Once within 
 her house, and nothing in the shape of persuasion, threats, or force 
 will be left untried to accomplish her ruin. 
 
 First, she is watched and guarded and not permitted to go out 
 alone; then, after a few days, the first insinuations are made; 
 these are followed by direct proposals to yield herself to evil; 
 she is introduced to visitors, and every solicitation is used to in¬ 
 duce the poor girl to submit; she is told that she shall have fine 
 dresses, jewelry, and ornaments of every kind; that she shall 
 live the life of a lady, with nothing to do but receive the atten¬ 
 tions of gentlemen; her beauty is praised, and every thing in the 
 way of fiattery is done to excite her vanity, and to dissatisfy her 
 with the life of a servant. 
 
 She sees gentlemen constantly calling at the house, and paying 
 
82 
 
 attentions to the other girls, who, dressed in silks and satins and 
 adorned with jewelry, are taken out by them to suppers, balls, 
 and places of amusement; and she is told by the devilish mistress 
 of the house that she shall lead just such a life herself if she will 
 only consent to “ get rid of her ridiculous scruples, and do as they 
 do,” that is, sell her beauty for a price. 
 
 Carried away by their vanity and love of admiration, and hear¬ 
 ing nothing but evil counsel on every side, having no true friend 
 to rely on or advise them, many yield to these seductive influences, 
 and voluntarily sacriflce themselves. 
 
 If, however, all solicitations fail, other means are brought into 
 requisition; menaces are tried, and a simple girl unused to city 
 ways is threatened with imprisonment; a charge of theft is 
 trumped up against her, and, by means of sham officers, the poor 
 girl is frightened half out of her senses; she is told that if she 
 offers to quit the house, she will be at once arrested, and taken 
 to prison, brought up at court the next morning, and sentenced 
 to the Penitentiary; some visitor apes the kind-hearted man, 
 and offers to befriend her, and her mind is so worked up by these 
 various means, that she gives up opposition, partly from despair 
 and partly for sake of peace. Or perhaps the old system of 
 drugging is tried, and that seldom fails; or brute violence is re¬ 
 sorted to, and that never fails; and so scarce one poor girl in a 
 hundred escapes from these houses as chaste as when they en¬ 
 tered them. 
 
 A case which occurred in this city in January last, and which 
 was made the subject of police investigation, will show that our 
 previous statements are not too highly colored. 
 
 A man named D—ds, who keeps a house of ill-repute in one of 
 the parallel streets west of Broadway, hired a pretty, gentle¬ 
 appearing Irish girl, named Bridget H-, at an intelligence 
 
 office. He expressed himself much pleased with her appearance, 
 was satisfled as to her certificates, and engaged her to act as cook 
 for him, teUing her that he was keeping house, that his wife was 
 an invalid, and unable to come to the office to choose a girl for 
 herself. 
 
 Bridget was overjoyed to find herself engaged for a good place 
 almost the first hour she had applied for one, and immediately 
 
33 
 
 prepared to remove her few worldly goods to D—ds’ house; and 
 these were few enough; she was an orphan, an utter stranger in 
 the city, and without a friend, and fondly hoped to find her new 
 employer kind, and his house a home. 
 
 When she got to the house she found that D—ds’ wife was 
 absent, that he kept a saloon there, and that selling liquor was the 
 ostensible business of the establishment. She w'as not well 
 pleased with this, but concluded to stay and do the besi she 
 could to please her employer and earn her wages. 
 
 For a few days all went on smoothly, and D—ds was civil and 
 treated her well. Then he began to make violent love to her, and 
 before a fortnight had passed away, he had proposed to marry 
 her. This offer Bridget declined, and repulsed Ms love advances 
 very kindly, but decidedly, and he appeared to be willing to 
 desist making them. Again she was left to herself for a few days; 
 but one evening D—ds invited her to drink a glass of soda^ which 
 invitation she accepted. That glass of soda was drugged, and for 
 eight hours the deceived girl lay stupefied and utterly insensible. 
 When at last she came to her senses, she discovered she had been 
 outraged. Half-crazed with her great sorrow, she rushed from 
 the house, made her way to the dock, and plunged into the water, 
 with the full intention of ending her life, but was observed by a 
 policeman who reseued her. She told him her mournful story, 
 and D—ds was arrested and placed in the Tombs. 
 
 Subsequent inquiry proved that the keeper of the intelligence of¬ 
 fice where this poor girl was entrapped is a brother-in-law of D — ds\ 
 and acts as his agent, and has often sent other girls to his house. 
 What has been the history of these other unfortunates, we can 
 only guess; but probably each one could tell a story no less re¬ 
 volting than tills of the orphan Irish girl. 
 
 One other instance from the hundreds that might be selected, 
 will suffice as an illustration of the way this business is often 
 managed. In this particular case, the object was not accomplished 
 in consequence of the lucky escape of the girl; but the intended 
 crime is fully evident. 
 
 A pretty girl, sixteen years of age, named Ellen B-, who 
 
 had been living at Saratoga Springs, but who lost her situation in 
 that village with the close of the fashionable season, came to tMs 
 
84 
 
 city in quest of a place. Being entirely unacquainted, she had no 
 ready means of obtaining employment, save through the medium 
 of an intelligence office; she therefore made ner way to one, 
 where she was placed “ all in a row” with a number of young 
 ladies similarly situated. Her money was demanded, and she 
 then had the privilege of coming every day, and sitting on that 
 bench until some fastidious mistress should engage her. 
 
 She was not to wait very long. On the second day after she 
 had paid her fee, as she was sitting on that hard bench, a dashing, 
 fashionably-dressed lady, who assumed all the “airs” of the 
 “upper-crust” world, entered the office in quest of a girl. Her 
 sharp eye ran over the expectant group, until it lighted upon 
 Ellen, when it kindled with a glance of satisfaction, for Ellen was 
 really a handsome girl, whose appearance ill befits her humble 
 station; a bargain was soon concluded, and the girl prepared to 
 go to her boarding-place for her clothes. 
 
 On coming out of the intelligence office, she found a carriage 
 waiting, which a wink from her new mistress had caused the 
 employment man to send for; and into this she got with the lady, 
 who, it evidently seems, was afraid to trust her prize out of her 
 grasp. In this they proceeded to Ellen’s stopping-place for her 
 trunk, from whence they were driven to the residence of the dash¬ 
 ing woman, whom we shall call—Mrs. Smith. 
 
 EUen noticed, as she entered the house, that every thing was 
 in a confused, disorderly, dirty condition, such as iU becomes the 
 house of a true lady; but she attributed this to the mistress having 
 been without “ help”—and ladies now-a-days so seldom know 
 how to do work. There was one thing, however, which troubled 
 her more—that was the familiar, confident manner which the 
 woman assumed as soon as she began to domesticate herself, and 
 the not very fastidious language she at times made use of in her 
 conversation—a circumstance we would urge our readers to note 
 as a warning indication they may some time profit by. 
 
 The family consisted of the mistress, a sick girl and her nurse, 
 and a colored woman, acting as cook and chambermaid. Ellen 
 was surprised at the little service required of her, and also at the 
 call of several gentlemen, about which there appeared to be some- 
 
thing mysterious, as Mrs. Smith answered the door-bell herself, 
 and seemed anxious that Ellen should not be seen by them. 
 
 All these things, however, did not quite open Ellen’s eyes to the 
 true character of the place she was in, though she began to have 
 some shrewd suspicions, and she wished herself well out of the 
 house; but to get away from it was impossible, as her every 
 motion was watched, and no errand or excuse was allowed to give 
 her occasion to quit the premises. 
 
 At last, some expected and unobjectionable party seemed to 
 have announced himself; for, one day as Ellen was thinking over 
 these things, and striving to decide what to do, there came a pe¬ 
 culiar knock at the street-door, and Mrs. Smith requested Ellen to 
 go to it; she did so, and admitted a very well-dressed gentleman, 
 whose breath and manner indicated to Ellen, as she showed him 
 into the parlor, that he had not been many minutes parted from 
 the wine-bottle. 
 
 Ellen was called into the room, introduced to Mr. Burgundy 
 as a particular friend of Mrs. Smith, and requested to be seated. 
 The gentleman stared impudently at her, and then asked the 
 mistress what had become of the other girls; she replied they had 
 left; adding, with a significant nod at Ellen, “ but I have got one 
 prettier than all of them.” Upon which the gentleman assured 
 Ellen she was “a nice little critter”—accompanying the ques¬ 
 tionable commendation with an oath. He then proceeded to pay 
 her more compliments much after the same sort, and to express 
 his desire that they should become intimately acquainted. 
 
 He then called for some wine, of which he and Mrs. S. drank, 
 and which they first invited and then urged Ellen to partake of, 
 but which the wise girl very firmly and resolutely declined to do, 
 very much, as it seemed, to their disappointment and annoyance. 
 They then commenced talking together in a low tone, Ellen 
 evidently being the subject of their remarks; at last they ap¬ 
 peared to have decided upon some course of procedure, for the 
 gentleman turned to talk with Ellen again, while Mrs. S., rising 
 to leave the room, said, “I am going to leave for a few minutes; 
 you will entertain the gentleman while I am gone, dear.” 
 
 The girl at once saw through the plot, and became thoroughly 
 
36 
 
 alarmed; she rose to her feet, and, telling the procuress that she 
 had not been engaged to “ entertain gentlemen,” and that she was 
 satisfied the house was no place for her, she asked for her things 
 that she might leave the premises. Mrs. S. told her to go up and 
 get them; she answered she would not trust herself so far from 
 the street; Mrs. S. then told her she should not leave the house: 
 this remark the gentleman repeated with offensive additions, and 
 both approached to seize her; but she darted past them into the 
 hall, and through the street-door, and, though closely pursued by 
 the woman, who followed her nearly to the corner of the next 
 block, crying, “Stop thief!” she managed to make good her 
 escape. 
 
 By the advice of a stranger upon the walk, to whom Ellen 
 applied for protection, she stepped into the first respectable looking 
 house at hand, and procured a bonnet and shawl, and then pro¬ 
 ceeded to the Police Court, and obtained a warrant for the arrest 
 of the Smith harridan and the search of her house. Ellen’s 
 clothing was found, and restored to her, and the dashing procuress 
 soon became an inmate of a rank and disagreeable cell in the 
 County Jail, where she is obliged to consort with other vile and 
 degraded women, and, perhaps, bear the upbraidings of some 
 who were brought to their fallen condition by her own machin¬ 
 ations, and who, however degraded they may be, and however 
 little they may equal her in exterior appearance, cannot but be 
 her superiors in all that goes to constitute virtue and honor. 
 
 As to the other party engaged in this nefarious attempt upon 
 Ellen’s honor, though deserving the State-prison or the halter, he 
 escaped scathless, except, perhaps, bleeding freely at the pocket 
 to prevent the procuress from divulging his name. 
 
 In this case, also, the proprietor of the employment ofiBce was 
 in league with the keeper of the assignation house. 
 
 Deal gitardedly with all intelligence offices ! 
 
CHAPTER ly. 
 
 Emigrant Ships and Boarding-Houses. 
 
 There are exceptions to all general rules, and we readily admit 
 one in the present case, and say at the outset that every captain 
 of an emigrant ship is not unfaithful to his trust as a ship-master 
 and as a man; but we do, nevertheless, assert that “Ocean Pest- 
 House” and “ Floating Hell” are the right terms (any others would 
 be too mild—not half expressive enough) by which to designate 
 most of our emigrant ships; many of whose trips to this continent 
 match in respect to suffering, disease, and death, some of the far- 
 famed “ middle passages” between Africa and Brazil. 
 
 But it is of the moral, not the sanitary aspects of these voyages 
 that we are to speak. One of our city papers, some time since, 
 attempted a labored defense of American captains against the 
 charges of the seduction and ill-treatment of females on board 
 emigrant ships, as presented in a memorial to Congress from the 
 Commissioners of Emigration in this city, and whose petition 
 closes with asking for the passage of more stringent laws to meet 
 the case. 
 
 The gist of this journal’s remarks were, that it is impossible 
 for the evil in question to exist but to a trifling extent; that the 
 present laws are ample for the protection of female passengers; 
 and that if more severe statutes were enacted, it would but facil¬ 
 itate the levying of black-mail upon ship-masters. 
 
 The answer to this is, that the savage cruelties practiced upon 
 their crews by American officers, as evidenced in the British 
 courts, goes to show such brutal ferocity on the part of the 
 officers who inflict, and such reckless depravity on that of the 
 men whose conduct invites its display, that it would be folly 
 to believe that poor and defenseless female passengers would be 
 
SAVED BY THE LOST. 
 
 “ Outcast that I am, I will protect and save you,” 
 
S9 
 
 likely to meet 'vrith any respect whatever at their hands. It is the 
 guilty, not the innocent, ^save it be the innocent relatives of the 
 guilty), who have occasion to dread black-mail; and a stout sea- 
 captain, who has the command of his two fists, is the last man in 
 the world for one to venture to extort money from; so this por¬ 
 tion of the journal’s argument partakes of the character of a 
 damaging admission. 'We agree with it as to the folly of passing 
 more stringent enactments in this direction; for, until some way 
 ’ can be devised to put existing laws in force, the more severe the 
 statutes the more intense the mockery. 
 
 The truth is, that on board emigrant vessels, at the present 
 time, officers and crews can have their own way, without the 
 least fear of being called to account for their ill-doings; for, 
 when the vessel touches our shores, the nearly penniless emigrant 
 hastens at once to his destination; the few cabin passengers have 
 nothing to gain by mixing themselves up in such matters, and so 
 if any outrages have been committed, there are none left to testify 
 or complain but the poor sufferers themselves; and how is a help¬ 
 less girl to bring her case before our courts ? 
 
 So hopeless of prevention, under the existing state of things, 
 seems this evil, that we can only say to the poor emigrant girl— 
 “ There are vessels on hoard of which you will he treated with respect 
 and decency; so, when taking passage^ search diligently for them; 
 for if you are unfortunate in your selection^ no words of warning 
 we can pen will save you from the risk of outraged 
 
 As to a remedy for this heinous offense, there seems but one 
 that will prove effectual: and that is the appointment^ hy the gov¬ 
 ernments interested^ of Commissioners, one of which shall sail with 
 every emigrant vessel, and whose duty shall he to protect this class 
 of passengers from harm by their presence and their reports; and, 
 as a matter of convenience and economy, perhaps no better party 
 could be found for this service than the sliip’s surgeon, if care¬ 
 fully selected hy government. 
 
 Wb would gladly stop here and say not another word upon 
 this subject; but, as Public Opinion is the only influence which 
 can incite the “ powers that be” to action in the case, we shall be 
 obliged to go somewhat into details, offensive as they are, in order 
 to enlighten the public mind, and urge it to beneficial efforts. 
 
40 
 
 From the Commissioners’ memorial aforesaid, and other sources, 
 we are advised that, after reaching the high seas from European 
 ports, the captains of these emigrant vessels frequently select 
 some unprotected female passenger, induces her to visit his cabin, 
 and when there, by threats or promises of marriage, accomplishes 
 her ruin, and retains her in his quarters for the rest of the voyage; 
 this example is followed by the other officers of the ship: and 
 where these viUanies are practiced by the officers, the most un¬ 
 limited license is taken by the sailors; for the emigrant passen¬ 
 gers are herded in together by hundreds in the most wretched and 
 confined manner, and every facility is afforded for the commission 
 of the most abominable crimes. 
 
 There are not unfrequently from six hundred to a thousand 
 steerage passengers in a single ship, among which number more 
 than half will be females, and the majority of these young women 
 in the prime of life. They are on the same deck with the 
 sailors, who have access to their berths at all hours of the day and 
 night, and do not fail to take advantage of these circumstances. 
 This is winked at by the officers, to divert the men’s attention 
 from the peccadilloes of their superiors. 
 
 Among a class of people so rough as sailors, particularly where 
 they have the power to enforce their wishes, love-making is not 
 likely to be conducted in the most gentle manner; and conse¬ 
 quently scenes of bodily outrage and personal violence are on 
 some vessels an every-day occurrence; and many of the poor 
 girls who arrive here have not only been robbed of their virtue, 
 but are in a condition which obliges the Health Inspector to send 
 them at once to the hospital. 
 
 And not only by the officers and crew of the vessel are these 
 outrages committed, but regular agents for emigrant boarding¬ 
 houses go out from this city for the purpose of returning in the 
 emigrant ships, making the acquaintance of passengers, ascertain¬ 
 ing who have money, and inducing them, on their arrival here, 
 to go with them to the houses with which they, the agents, are 
 connected, where they are fieeced by double and treble charges, 
 if not entirely robbed of their funds. But this is not the worst 
 employment of these agents, by any means; they are procurers^ 
 agents of houses of ill-fame, and not only seduce or outrage 
 
41 
 
 women themselves, but take a note of every evil action that is 
 going on, and, with the connivance of the officers, who are 
 anxious to get rid of their own victims, are prepared, the moment 
 the vessel touches the wharf, to sweep into the hands of the 
 hackmen and their other waiting assistants, this whole mass of 
 outraged humanity, to be driven at once to the lowest dens of in¬ 
 famy, and go to make up the six thousand victims of the “ greatest 
 of our social evils,” which New York annually demands and ob¬ 
 tains of Christendom. 
 
 It may be asked, why do not the men passengers, the husbands 
 and brothers of these wronged women, interfere to prevent these 
 outrages ? The answer is two-fold; firstly, many emigrants of the 
 lower classes do not care so much for these things as more re¬ 
 fined and better-bom people; and secondly, they are afraid to 
 interfere; should any one of them offer resistance singly, he would 
 soon be overpowered; and should his friends aid or protect him, 
 it would be treated as mutiny, and they would be shot down 
 like dogs. The male lower-class passengers are treated by the 
 sailors with the most bratal violence, being kicked and knocked 
 down oftentimes without the slightest provocation. This is a 
 notorious fact, and a man will sometimes put up with injustice 
 rather than subject himself to being knocked over the head with a 
 handspike. 
 
 The system adopted to bring about the destruction of these 
 girls is the same in nearly all cases, where soft words have failed 
 to bring about the object. During the first two or three days, 
 passengers are perfectly terrified by the atrocities and bodily 
 injuries they see inflicted around them upon the crew, who have 
 come aboard in many cases in a state of beastly intoxication, which 
 condition they sustain for one or two days by means of the hid¬ 
 den stores of rum they have contrived to smuggle into the vessel. 
 Their incapacity renders the officers furious, and when the half-in¬ 
 sane sailor makes a show of resistance, the life is often nearly 
 mangled out of him. 
 
 The passengers soon perceive that they are embarked upon a 
 long and dreary voyage, unarmed, helpless, and perfectly at the 
 mercy of miscreants whose acts have so frequently been brought 
 before the pubhc by the press, that they need not be described 
 
 4 * 
 
42 
 
 here. When night sets in, each passenger retires to rest with a 
 foreboding mind. When all is quiet, and most are asleep, a 
 sudden shriek is heard from a female; some gather around her 
 in the darkness, and others hurrj for the medical officer. He 
 arrives, and finds a girl generally some sixteen or seventeen years 
 of age lying on the floor between decks, with a pale and terrified 
 countenance, gazing wildly from face to face. He interrogates 
 those around as to the cause, but they shake their heads, and 
 are dumb. He asks the girl herself; she turns her eyes quickly 
 around; they rest for a moment on an officer of the vessel^ who has 
 officiously attended the first call, lantern in hand; she shudders, says 
 she is better, and desires to be helped to her berth, 
 
 A. physician who was employed upon one of these ships thus 
 mentions a case: 
 
 “A scene of the most atrocious villany occurred on board the 
 ship I last sailed in. It was the ruin of a fine young emigrant 
 girl by, as I suspected, one of the officers of the vessel. 
 
 “ She was visited by some person at midnight who accomplished 
 his purpose probably by the use of violence and threats, though 
 she would not tell me the means used nor the name of the man; 
 she trembled, and appeared afraid to utter a word. The girl 
 was between fifteen and sixteen, and, although I daily con¬ 
 versed with her for four days, nothing could induce her to give 
 up the slightest information upon this point; but a male passenger 
 who slept in a bunk adjoining hers, said, ‘ It is all right now; 
 we shall have no more screaming; it is all right, doctor.’ There 
 was no mistaking his manner nor his mode of giving information; 
 she was all right for perdition; for in a few weeks she became one 
 of the most abandoned women on board the vessel.” 
 
 Perhaps one of these girls dies; it may be from ship-fever, or 
 it may be her death was hastened, if not actually superinduced 
 by some bodily outrage, for no one can tell how many of these 
 deaths at sea have some foul play connected with them; and 
 then what a funeral ceremony does this unfortunate girl have 1 
 No burial-service, and oftentimes no pity or sorrow from those 
 who survive; it may be, her former female friends, with all of 
 sympathetic femininity crushed out of them, will be seen jeering 
 and laughing with the sailors as the body of their late com- 
 
43 
 
 uinion is thrown to the deep. Three weeks sinoe these girls 
 were quiet, well-behaved young women, in whose faces you might 
 in vain look for any indications of that savage depravity we now 
 see depicted there. Oh, how quickly and how low does woman 
 fall when she parts with her purity 1 
 
 Yes, many were modest girls, brought up virtuously and in strict 
 observance of their religious duties, and carried with them from 
 home characters above suspicion. Some from necessity, others 
 from the invitation of friends who had preceded them, and others 
 with the laudable ambition to lessen the burdens of their parents, 
 or to contribute to their relief and comfort in the decline of life, 
 in an evil hour decided to embark for America. Better would 
 it have been for such that the vessel had gone down in mid-ocean, 
 than that they should reach these shores and lead the life they are 
 doomed to. 
 
 Shocking as are these revelations respecting the emigrant 
 ships, they are equaled by what has been disclosed with reference 
 to the treatment of female passengers who, escaping the moral 
 perils of the sea, encounter those of the land at the emigrant 
 boarding-houses. At many of these places the boarders are rob¬ 
 bed unblushingly, and when stripped of all their goods and money 
 are turned into the street; in these houses, too, the same un¬ 
 scrupulous means are often resorted to in order to ruin the girls 
 who enter them. Most of these girls are strangers in the coun¬ 
 try ; many cannot speak our language, and none know where to 
 apply for redress; and in many cases they close their mouths 
 out of dread of dire vengeance at the hands of their persecutors, 
 whom they imagine have the power to execute their threats. 
 
 But it is not only emigrant girls from these ships who are 
 taken to these houses, some of which assume the sign of hotels; 
 hackmen, when applied to by a lone female who reaches the city 
 by steamboat or cars, instead of taking them to their place of des¬ 
 tination, frequently land them at these dens, and by carrying in 
 their baggage force them to follow; here the poor woman is 
 fleeced by outrageous charges, and sometimes locked up and 
 outraged; mortification and shame at her unwilling disgrace pre¬ 
 venting her when released from avo^ving the fact, or permitting 
 her friends to prosecute her persecutors, or avenge her wrongs; 
 
44 
 
 for what woman would wish her name to appear in public prints 
 as the victim of such impositions or atrocities ? 
 
 A young girl, named Caroline W-, was missed a short time 
 
 since from her friends; she came to New York alone from Detroit 
 to visit a relative, but not appearing as expected, her friends 
 became alarmed, and put the police on the track. After consider¬ 
 able search, a hackman was found who had taken a girl of her 
 description over the river, and who was willing to disclose her 
 place of abode for twenty dollars. The money being paid, the 
 officer was informed the girl was at Williamsburg, whither he 
 proceeded, found the party he was in search of, and brought her 
 back to the city. 
 
 It seems that she arrived in the cars late in the evening, and^ap- 
 plied to a hackman to take her to her aunt’s at the upper part of the 
 city; but the fellow abducted her in the most outrageous man¬ 
 ner ;—^under the plea that it was too late to take her so far up 
 town, and with a promise to place her at a respectable hotel for 
 the night, the fellow seated her in his coach, into which another i 
 hackman got, and they carried her to a half-hotel, half-boarding- 
 house, kept by a woman in the lower part of the city, where she 
 remained over night and the next day, not knowing where to go 
 or what to do. 
 
 The second evening, as she was seated in her chamber, a gen¬ 
 tleman entered, who proved to be more of a man than many who 
 visit such places for such purposes; for he shortly came back to 
 the hag who had sent him up stairs, and said to her, “ Madam I 
 though I visit houses like this of yours, I never will have to do 
 with those who are in them, unwillingly, and least of all with a* 
 child like this you have sent me to.” 
 
 He went at once to the police office, but before he could re¬ 
 turn with an officer, some other party, probably under pretense of 
 rescuing her from her danger, persuaded her to go to Williams¬ 
 burg, to the place where the officer found her. 
 
 In the police court this girl testified that the proprietress of 
 the house to which she was taken threatened if she did not con¬ 
 sent to what was required of her, she should be whipped, and 
 thrown out into the street; she was but fourteen years of age, 
 and, though from her youth and inexperience, liable to be led into 
 
I 
 
 45 
 
 difficulties, she had the firmness to resist all attempts upon her 
 honor. 
 
 Another hotel case, which occurred at Chicago, is given here to 
 show the rashness, the almost wickedness, of sending young girls 
 on a journey ^vithout a protector. It is also presented to show 
 that even among these abandoned women, whose occupation is the 
 keeping of houses of assignation or ill-fame, there are some who 
 do.not part with all their better feelings, and who, whOe ready 
 to receive an erring or unfortunate woman into their dwellings, 
 will not deceive them, or permit them to be abused. It is taken 
 from the Chicago Journal: 
 
 “ A few days since a young Canada lady, about thirteen or 
 fourteen years of age, came to the city from Canada, for the pur¬ 
 pose of meeting her father, who had been to the West on business, 
 and put up at the Tremont House. Not meeting him, as she 
 had anticipated, she became uneasy. At the Tremont House she 
 met a man who gave his name as Gr. D. Black. This wretch rep¬ 
 resented to her that a public hotel was no place for her, and that 
 he would procure a private boarding-house for her till she could 
 find her father. She acceded to his proposition, and the villain 
 gave her the following letter to a woman named Kate Howard, 
 who keeps a house of ill-repute at No. — Well-street: 
 
 “ ‘ Dear Mada^i —You will confer a great favor on me by keep¬ 
 ing -in your house, and you can do as you like with 
 
 her. She don’t know where I am sending her to. Be kind to 
 her, and tell her that you will give her five doUars a week and 
 board. I have took all her money away from her. I will call 
 on you in a week. Keep dark. G. D. Black.’ 
 
 “Thus this infernal ruffian planned the destruction of an in¬ 
 nocent young girl, but he was doomed to be disappointed. When 
 the girl presented herself at Kate Howard’s, that woman, to her 
 honor be it said, asked her if she knew to what kind of a house 
 her pretended friend had sent her. The girl answered. No. Kate 
 said, ‘ He has sent you to a house of prostitution, and I am the 
 keeper of it, but I have not forgotten that I was once an innocent 
 child like yourself^ or that I once had a mother as, perhaps, you 
 
46 
 
 hare, and I will protect and defend you, outcast and fallen as I 
 am. Come out of this den at once—it is no place for the like of 
 you.’ Suiting the action to the word, the woman took the poor, 
 friendless girl to a respectable Grerman family in the neighbor¬ 
 hood, and paid for her board and lodging out of her own pocket. 
 In the morning, she sent for one of our detective police oflScers 
 and placed the girl in his keeping, and yesterday she was re¬ 
 stored to the arms of her father.” 
 
 Now, we have faith to believe that this woman was originally 
 the victim of deception, if not of a worse sin, and would have 
 gladly escaped from a life of shame if fortune and society would 
 have permitted her. At all events, in the above case she did 
 herself lasting'* honor; it was an act she can always reflect with 
 a daily pleasure upon; she has laid up for herself a death-bed com¬ 
 fort ; and whatever her future, no matter how low or degraded 
 this woman may become, we trust that in her last hour the hand 
 of that rescued girl will be laid upon her brow, and her voice 
 breathe mto her ear both thanks and prayers,—it is the smallest 
 return she can make her. 
 
 And now, rich, or respectable, or fortunate, or happy reader, 
 with this example of a poor fallen and yet noble-hearted woman 
 before your eyes, what will you do toward remedying the evils 
 this book treats upon; more especially, how will you participate 
 in the Public Opinion which should be brought to bear upon the 
 
 Emigeation System. 
 
CHAPTER y. 
 
 PUNISHMENTS OF SEDUCERS. 
 
 Or all misfortunes that at times overwhelm poor humanity, 
 none are so prostrating, poignant, and enduring as the inconti¬ 
 nence of husband, wife, mother, sister, or daug^iter. Respect 
 and esteem for such as bear these relations to us are essential to 
 give those relations value; and when impurity degrades those 
 we have loved, cherished, looked up to, or leant upon, we not only 
 lose an idol, but often part with the power again to worship one. 
 When death snatches from us near, dear, and worthy friends, 
 we may mourn their departure, but there still is left us the sad 
 pleasure of recalling them to mind, and we can, in a measure, re¬ 
 place them by others; but when moral deformity blasts our 
 cherished ones, their living corpses are left, as it were, to walk 
 the earth and mock us—our angels are not translated; they are 
 changed to demons—and we fear to love others, lest they too may 
 change; we even think that the good about us are but seeming 
 good, and so permit the sources of our highest enjoj^ments to dry 
 up within us, and learn to hate mankind, ourselves included. 
 
 Of all the wrongs one man can inflict upon another, the seduc¬ 
 tion of wife or daughter is the most maddening. For more than 
 the reasons just given, to murder them outright would not be so 
 afflicting; for in the latter case the sympathy of the world would 
 be with the sufferer—in the former, its derision or its pity, which 
 is as much as to say, its contempt; for words of consolation at such 
 times are received as insults—they, in fact, being but reminders 
 of disgrace. The seducer not only robs the good husband or 
 father of perhaps his greatest treasure, but brands him with a 
 mark, which for all his lifetime, causes men and women to point 
 a finger at him; and when such husband, or father, or brother, 
 

 ANOTHER CAIN. 
 
 “My punisliment is greater than I can bear.’ 
 
49 
 
 asks himself, “ What have I done to this man that he should in¬ 
 flict this great wrong upon me ?” and the reply is, “ Nought, 
 for he was as a stranger to meor when the reply comes back 
 (as in the case of S—k—s), like to a shower of rankling poisoned 
 arrows, “ He was my friend; I never injured, I always showered 
 favors upon him,” is there any wonder that the ipjured man 
 should become crazed with the desire of revenge, and inflict in¬ 
 stant punishment upon the offender, or that juries made up of 
 husbands and fathers should virtually say, “ If the accused was 
 not insane at the time he destroyed the destroyer, it was his 
 duty to become so ?” and that the press and the pulpit should 
 cry “Amen, and amen!” to such verdicts? 
 
 Perhaps no stronger case exists illustrative of the overwhelm¬ 
 ing desperation, sometimes consequent upon a sudden knowledge 
 of a child’s fall from virtue, than the following, the details of which 
 were received from a citizen of Boston: 
 
 In a New England city there resided, many years since, a 
 wealthy merchant—a generous, noble-spirited, and high-toned 
 gentleman. The death of his wife left upon his hands the sole 
 care of a son and a daughter, on whose education he spared no 
 expense, and whose future good seemed to be the sole aim of his 
 existence. The son was a type of his father—proud, yet gentle 
 and genial, and much beloved by all his school-mates, of whom 
 the narrator was one. His sister, by some years his senior, was 
 a perfect model in form and feature, and of so attractive beauty 
 that the elder lads habitually went out of their route to and 
 from school in order to catch a glimpse of her loveliness, some¬ 
 times being greeted with a blush and sometimes an angry frown, 
 but much preferring the latter, since, in the words of one, “ it 
 made her look so like a queen,” and generally having their wishes 
 gratified in this respect, as she soon learned the object of their 
 passing, and felt much annoyed and often angered by the upstart 
 attentions of the youngsters. 
 
 At the age of nineteen she was fi.rst introduced to the world; 
 and her position, attractions, and amiability secured for her a re¬ 
 ception such as the fondest and proudest father might be content 
 with. And proud and happy was that father, but only for a 
 brief season, for his high anticipations were suddenly blasted 
 
50 
 
 through the act of his family physician, who, though a married 
 man, and some years the young lady’s senior, was altogether too 
 young and too weak to be placed in the way of such temptation, 
 while the mother being dead, and the daughter therefore deprived 
 of the counsels and warnings against the dangers which environ 
 every attractive young woman, the poor girl was necessarily open 
 to seductive and evil influences. 
 
 What were the arts this betrayer of his sacred trust used, or 
 what incentives to passion he, acting as her medical adviser, ad¬ 
 ministered, were never made public; suffice to say that the mer¬ 
 chant, on returning home quite early from his counting-room one 
 day, in consequence of being ill, was made suddenly cognizant 
 of his daughter’s dishonor and his physician’s perfidy. Not a 
 word did the old man speak, but rushing from the parlor in 
 which he surprised the guilty couple, he gained the street, and 
 hatless, with his gray locks streaming in the air, and hands at 
 times upraised and then smitten together in frantic agony, he 
 flew madly over the pavement straight to the river’s side, and 
 with an unhesitating bound buried his grief and his shame be¬ 
 neath its waves forever. The physician fled to Europe. The 
 girl was removed far away. The brother went into exile in 
 some southern state; twenty years after this event he was met 
 by the narrator, and though then but thirty-five years of age, his 
 once dark hair was gray like that of men at fifty-five. 
 
 What a series of calamities for a few moments of sensual grat¬ 
 ification 1 What a load of remorse for that betrayer to carry 
 through life ! The picture of despair and self-murder which that 
 old man burnt, as it were, into this seducer’s brain, and which 
 must ever stand out to his mental sight, was a far worse punish¬ 
 ment than either the son or society could inflict—he might well 
 pray that the brother’s bullet should efface the vision. In this 
 case all retribution could well be left to a higher tribunal 
 “ Vengeance is mine, I will repay it,” saith the Lord. 
 
 Another case of sudden desperation, resulting in the taking 
 of life from a similar cause, but differing from the above, in that 
 an outraged husband was the chief actor, was the celebrated 
 Reapers and Lock affair, which occurred at Washington City, 
 in 1859. 
 
61 
 
 This noted case not only involved seduction, but breach of 
 friendship and of trust. Reapers was prominent as a politician, 
 was a man of wealth, maintaining an establishment at the capi¬ 
 tal, and ranking high in the social scale of that city. He was 
 possessed of a handsome young wife, of whom he was quite 
 proud, and to whom, as the sequel will show, he was very much 
 attached. But in this, as in the Drugman case, recorded in a 
 previous chapter, by the neglect of home for the sake of ambition 
 end show, he not only quenched the brightness of that home, 
 but lost along with it position, political influence, the respect of 
 the-world, and, as most assert, self-respect also. 
 
 Lock, also, was a man of note, holding an office in the gift of 
 the president, and, singularly enough, the very office upon which 
 devolved the prosecution of the offence to the laws, which caused 
 his own death; and in pursuance of his duties, had actually 
 prosecuted a young man for shooting a seducer. He was a wid¬ 
 ower and a rake—a sort of Don Juan—the very description of 
 man Reapers should have striven to keep away from his dwelling, 
 but whom, on the contrary, he not only invited into it, but in 
 whose care he at times left his wife, while he himself attended to 
 the more important “business of the state.” Lock diligently 
 availed himself of these privileges, and soon became Mrs. R.’s 
 cicisebo, and her almost constant attendant to balls, parties, 
 soirees, the theatre, etc., and such was the confidence reposed 
 in this friend, (?) so certain was he of his gratitude for the many 
 favors he had bestowed upon him, that when public scandal at 
 one time compelled him to call on Lock for explanations, the in¬ 
 terview resulted in the mistaken husband having more confidence 
 in the honor of his friend than ever. 
 
 But the reckless course of the guilty couple was continually 
 exposing their unhallowed intercourse to the ken of a curious 
 public. Lock hired a tenement in a lone quarter of the city, for 
 the express purpose of meeting his inamorata there; and an 
 anonymous letter, from one of the lady’s rivals for Lock’s favors, 
 having pointed out the place of assignation to the husband, he 
 placed trusty spies upon his wife’s track, and so brought homo 
 the fact of her incontinence to her, that she admitted her guilt, 
 put her confession in writing, and thus placed herself at his mercy 
 
62 
 
 —in less than twenty hours after, Eeapers, meeting Locke upon 
 the public street, shot him dead. 
 
 This affair occurring, as it did, at the capital of the nation, 
 created an immense sensation throughout the country, and during 
 the progress of Reapers’ trial, the newspapers teemed with in* 
 terminable discussions as to the measure of the homicide’s of¬ 
 fence and what should be done with him. 
 
 Some termed the act a cold-blooded murder, deserving of the 
 gallows; others considered it a case of justifiable homicide. Some 
 declared that Reapers’ previous career deprived him of the right 
 to act the “injured husband,” or, in other words, to defend the 
 sanctity of his own hearth. Many affirmed that Lock deserved 
 death, at the hands of the lady herself, for having publicly 
 boasted of his conquest over her; and at the hands of the hus¬ 
 band, not alone for the seduction,''but for the breach of trust re¬ 
 posed in him, aggravated, as it was, by ingratitude for the many 
 favors Reapers had generously bestowed upon him; Lock, in 
 fact, owing his then place and position mainly to Reapers’ ex¬ 
 ertions. 
 
 But the list of aggravating circumstances, which led to Lock’s 
 immediate destruction, is not yet filled. At the moment the 
 stricken man was bowed down to the earth, as it were, with 
 grief, mortification, and shame—when he was picturing to himself 
 the eyes of the whole world fixed upon himself, some with 
 triumph, some with commiseration, but all with contempt; in 
 that hour of anguish, when, burying his face in his pillow, he 
 cried out to his bosom friend, “I am a dishonored and ruined 
 man, I cannot look you in the face,” he was told that in front of 
 his house walked the ingrate and seducer, waving in the air a 
 handkerchief, the signal alike of another designed attack upon 
 Reapers’ honor, and the flaunting banner of Lock’s conquest. 
 
 Was this not too much for the friend, the husband, the man, to 
 endure; could any thing be devised for sinking the human and 
 raising the demon in a man’s breast that would compare with 
 this? “My God! this is too horrible,” cried the now frantic 
 man, and hurrying for his arms, he rushed out after the (to his 
 eyes) fiendish figure which seemed to have been beckoning him 
 to destroy it, and proceeded to the commission of a deed, awful 
 
63 
 
 In itself, but which a jury of his countrymen declared to be ex¬ 
 cusable, before the world and the law. And in this acquittal the 
 previous “libertine career,” with which the prisoner was charged, 
 was by no means lost sight of; the verdict of the jury was, that 
 every man had a right to defend the sanctity of his own bed un¬ 
 der all circumstances; but, at the same time, it failed not to 
 place the shirt of Nemesis upon the prisoner’s back; for, in his 
 discharge, was foreshadowed the discharge of all husbands who 
 may hereafter revenge upon Reapers a similar outrage of his upon 
 their honor. 
 
 But the most striking part of this whole affair, and that which 
 brought upon the already overloaded and crushed sufferer a 
 mountain of contempt, was that he should again take his wife to 
 his bosom. Two reasons are given for the public’s dissatisfac¬ 
 tion, not to say disgust, with him for this act. One is, that hav¬ 
 ing so dishonored her husband, the woman became so vile that 
 her husband could not stoop to reinstate her without disgrac¬ 
 ing himself; and another reason assumes, that if he could take 
 back his erring wife so easily, his estimate of the wrong done to 
 himself was not sufficient to justify the taking the life of her 
 seducer. 
 
 But is not this reasoning altogether too man-ish ?—the mere 
 dictate of pride. To the writer it seems this man had ihe moral 
 courage to do his duty. "Was the unfortunate woman without ex¬ 
 cuse ; had she no rights that had been trampled upon? Had not 
 her husband set her sad examples by violating his marriage vow? 
 Had he not neglected, when he should have cherished her? Had 
 he not committed her as it were to the care of a known liber¬ 
 tine, when he should have protected her against him, and per¬ 
 mitted another man to show her attentions that were due solely 
 from himself? Had he more to forgive than to be forgiven? 
 —and the child, should she be left to learn of one parent to hate 
 and despise the other ? 
 
 The real motive which led this unhappy man to take back an 
 erring wife, time will make evident. If the two now live, and 
 shall continue to live, pleasantly together, and shall bring up 
 their child carefully and respectably, then this act which thf) 
 world now so harshly condemns, will stand to Reapers’ everlasu 
 
54 
 
 ing credit. It will prove that he had the mo/rdimss to be just even 
 to a woman ] the generosity to offset forgiveness with forgive¬ 
 ness; while he will at the same time exhibit due gratitude 
 to the jury who saved him from an ignominious fate, by show¬ 
 ing to them, and to the world, that their verdict was a wise one, 
 since it led to good results. 
 
 At the very time the above case was on trial at Washington, 
 and invaders of husbands’ rights were being warned by the sad 
 fate of Lock, the following appeared in a Western paper: 
 
 “ The inhabitants of our city were thrown into a state of ex¬ 
 citement by a lamentable affair occurring on Saturday night last. 
 It appears that for some time past a citizen engaged in the 
 saddlery business has entertained suspicions of the virtue of his 
 wife, and resolved to satisfy himself in regard to the matter. 
 Accordingly, on Saturday last, he informed his family that he 
 should leave in the evening for Cincinnati. About nine o’clock, 
 however, he returned unexpectedly to his home, and found his 
 worst fears realized. A neighbor of his, who was possessed of 
 considerable means, was the intruder. The injured husband 
 found the guilty couple in bed, and without an instant’s delay, 
 he drew a revolver and shot the seducer dead. He then left the 
 house and gave' himself up to the authorities.” 
 
 Shortly after, a Troy paper gave an account of a similar ex¬ 
 hibition of a husband’s rage. Fortunately, however, for the 
 seducer, the result was less tragical. 
 
 “ Some time since, a wealthy man and one of position, of Fifth 
 avenue. New York, visited Troy. He made the acquaintance of 
 a married woman there—an angel in every thing but virtue, and 
 an improper intimacy at once sprang up between them. In 
 course of time the state of things became known to the husband 
 of the erring woman, who put himself in a position to watch the 
 progress of events. Late one night, when he was supposed to 
 be almost anywhere else, he caught his delinquent wife and her 
 metropolitan paramour emerging from a vehicle in front of a 
 well-known disreputable establishment on River street. His 
 words were few—his actions, by the aid of a slung-shot, spoke 
 for themselves. When his manifestations were completed, the 
 New Yorker might as well have been in Africa as in Troy, for 
 
55 
 
 all ine consciousness he possessed of his whereabouts. He was 
 taken up to his hotel, where the surgeon who was summoned 
 said he would die. This alarmed the husband, who at once 
 made himself exceedingly scarce. The wife, thus left without 
 restraint, took upon herself the treatment of her paramour, and 
 during more than five weeks, while he was confined to his room, 
 nursed him assiduously. But he did not die. So the husband 
 returned, and not only returned, but made an application for 
 divorce, which was allowed to go by default—the wife having 
 no defence to make.” 
 
 0. R., a returned Californian, who avenged his wife’s dishonor 
 by stabbing and trying to shoot her reverend seducer, was tried at 
 the Windham (Conn.) Superior Court, and fined four dollars, and 
 sentenced for a few months to the county jail. He plead guilty 
 to simple assault and battery; the “ intent to kill ” was omitted. 
 
 Jealousy is a headlong passion, and every man (and woman 
 as well) should carefully steel themselves against being carried 
 away by it, as the following incident serves to make evident: 
 
 “ A man out in Ohio was recently jealous of a lawyer who 
 frequently visited his wife during his absence from home. He 
 laid a plan to kill him, and was about to carry it into effect, when 
 one day his wife presented him with eight thousand dollars, 
 which she had received from the estate of a deceased uncle who 
 was unknown to her husband—the money having been secured 
 to her through the exertions of the lawyer, whom she had se¬ 
 cretly employed, with a view of giving her husband an agreeable 
 surprise.” 
 
 The West Troy Democrat makes this statement: 
 
 “The citizens of Stillwater, Jefferson County, N. T., were 
 thrown into great excitement on Friday, by a report which 
 reached us about sunset, that Hiram D. Case had been shot by 
 Arthur Holden, for improper relations with his (Holden’s) daugh¬ 
 ter. Last December he came home, and stayed about here for 
 three weeks, and during the time got acquainted with Miss 
 Holden. She was the daughter of a poor man, but bore a good 
 character. Case, under promise of marriage, ruined her. As 
 soon as her father knew this, he swore that Case should answer 
 for the crime with his life. Case came down to Holden’s, when 
 
66 
 
 Holden, as he entered the gate, shot him through the heart with 
 a rifle. He died almost instantly. Holden gave himself up to 
 the authorities, and made no resistance, simply remarking that 
 he had done his duty.” 
 
 At Buena Yista, Tennessee, Mr. John F. Jackson, an opulent 
 gentleman of that village, was informed that his daughter, a girl 
 of eighteen years, had been seduced by Dr. Bunch. He forth¬ 
 with sought the man, and demanded that he should repair the 
 wrong. The Doctor declined at the time, and Jackson gave him 
 three weeks to reconsider or leave the country. At the expira¬ 
 tion of that time. Bunch, still declining to heal the wounds he 
 had inflicted, the parent, restive with the sense of wounded 
 honor, shot Bunch down in his oflBce. He died instantly. Jack- 
 son delivej;ed himself into custody. 
 
 In 1858, James Morgan was tried at the Circuit Court at St. 
 Joseph, Missouri, on the charge of abducting Miss Lucretia Grey, 
 with a view to seducing her, and was found guilty, and sentenced 
 to the state prison for two years and a half. Miss Grey, a good- 
 looking young lady, seventeen years old, was living with her 
 mother, a widow lady in destitute circumstances, in Chillicothe, 
 where she made the acquaintance of Morgan. He treated her 
 with more than ordinary respect, and, as a matter of course^ 
 succeeded in gaining her confidence. He abducted her and 
 brought her to this city, took lodgings at a hotel, where he reg¬ 
 istered as man and wife. At night, he went to her room, and 
 doubtless thought that rather than raise a disturbance, the wo¬ 
 man would yield to his entreaties. But in this he was mistaken. 
 This style of proceeding is not uncommon among unprincipled 
 men; and it is well, as an example, that the young lady in this 
 instance had the courage to bring the villain to justice. 
 
 In 1851, Hardesty, a young man of Boone County, Kentucky, 
 was tried and acquitted for killing another young man, named 
 Grubb, who had seduced his sister. Hardesty told the seducer 
 that he would give him six months in which to make his choice 
 between marrying the girl and being killed. The six months 
 expired, and Grubb not having married the girl, Hardesty met 
 him, and on sight, shot him. The evidence showed that Grubb 
 was armed also, in expectation of the attack, but was shot in 
 
67 
 
 the act of drawing his weapon. The trial excited very great in¬ 
 terest, and the verdict of the jury was, “Not guilty.” The fol¬ 
 lowing is the substance of the judgment pronounced by Judge 
 Nutall upon the verdict of “Not guilty,” by the jury in behalf 
 of Hardesty: 
 
 “Sir: You have been indicted by a grand jury of your country upon a 
 most heinous charge. You have put yourself upon your country and 
 your God for deliverance. You have had a fair and impartial trial before 
 them, and they have both pronounced you not guilty, and so say I. It 
 may not be proper for me to express my sentiments, yet, nevertheless, I 
 will do it Young manl had I been wronged as you have been, I would 
 have spent every dollar I had on earth, and all that I could have begged 
 or borrowed, and then starved upon the track of the villain, but I would 
 have imbrued my hands in his blood. Go hence without delay. You are 
 acquitted 1” 
 
 The verdict of the jury and the judgment of the court were 
 both received amid the applause of a full Court House. 
 
 The reader should bear in mind that in this instance the se¬ 
 ducer had the opportunity to make restitution^ and refused; 
 pence, he was entitled to neither mercy nor pity. 
 
CHAPTER YI. 
 
 PUNISHMENT OP SEDUCERS. 
 
 The foregoing chapter illustrates the maddening effect upon 
 men which results from a knowledge of a wife, sister’s, or daugh¬ 
 ter’s fall, and the indisposition of jurors to punish the husband, 
 father or brother, who avenge their kindred’s wrongs; many will 
 very naturally suppose that the jury which would favor the 
 avenger, could well be trusted to punish, by its verdict, the se¬ 
 ducer, and that therefore no necessity exists for any man’s taking 
 the law into his own hands. 
 
 This might be so, were such prosecutions conducted in our 
 courts in any thing like a just and decent manner; but it is well 
 known that the counsel for the defence, in all such cases, delib¬ 
 erately aim to make all such trials as disgusting and farcical as 
 possible, in order to shock and embarrass the complainant, de¬ 
 stroy the effect of her testimony upon the jury, and unfit them 
 for taking a serious view of the matter; and as most libertines 
 have companions as base as themselves, who are ever ready to 
 swear to any thing and every thing that will help one of their own 
 ilk out of difficulty, there is seldom any lack of counter-testi¬ 
 mony, or of false and prurient details for lawyers to work with. 
 
 In the case stated upon the previous page, a young woman 
 had justice done her—^but that was one of attempted seduction 
 only; had the villain succeeded in his base attempt, no such trial 
 would have come off. For what young woman of delicacy had 
 not rather suffer in silence, or go drown herself, than to stand 
 up in open court before the crowd of unsympathizing and ribald 
 men which all such trials draw together, and there endure the 
 cross-questioning of some heartless lawyer—a part of whose 
 tactics is to put her to confusion and shame, and who, in plead- 
 
59 
 
 ing his client’s case, may possibly be preparing himself to con¬ 
 duct his own—and then to crown all, have the press wing the 
 the scandalous details to every fireside in the landl 
 
 In truth, it is actually not respectable to carry a case of seduction 
 or of violation into our courts^ and this circumstance libertines 
 count upon and profit by. 
 
 The “ Harby Trial,” so called, which took place at New Orleans 
 in June, 1858, is confirmatory of this assertion. 
 
 This trial was the most interesting and the most dramatic in 
 its incidents that has ever been seen in New Orleans. 
 
 APPEARANCE OP THE PRISONER. 
 
 The prisoner, Mr. Harby, a respectable-looking little old man, 
 with gray hair and wearing spectacles, took his seat at the bar 
 in company with his counsel, Mr. Durant. For thirty years he 
 had been a respected and esteemed citizen of this city; a great 
 many of the crowd were men who when boys acquired their love 
 and respect for him in his honorable vocation of school-teaching. 
 The feeling in his behalf was manifest on every side. He pre¬ 
 sented a cool and collected demeanor, and looked any thing but 
 the murderer which it was the unpleasant task of the prosecu¬ 
 tion to undertake to prove him. 
 
 THE SHOOTING. 
 
 J. H. Colles, a clerk at Dudley, Nelson & Go’s—of which firm 
 the deceased was junior partner, and in whose office on Common 
 street, between twelve and one o’clock on the 2Ith of March 
 last, he was shot—and Lyman Dudley, another clerk in the same 
 house, gave the breif particulars of the shooting of Stone— 
 which was simply, that whilst he was writing at his desk, Harby 
 walked in, called him by name, shot him and walked away. 
 
 DEATH OP STONE. 
 
 Dr. Thos. Hunt testified as to his waiting upon Stone an hour 
 and a half after he was shot. The wound was a very small one, 
 made by a small bullet, near the middle of the breast. Stone 
 was in great agony, saying he knew he would die, and asked 
 witness to do all he could for him. Witness finally extracted 
 
60 
 
 the bullet from his back, and after that he experienced much 
 relief. But it was evident that his lung and some of the nerves 
 had been injured; he continued to sink, and on the morning of 
 the 31st he died in a state of collapse—died from the effect of 
 the pistol-shot wound. This was at his room in a boarding¬ 
 house up Magazine street, to which he was removed shortly 
 after being wounded. 
 
 Here the state rested the case. 
 
 APPEARANCE OP MISS HARRY—HER TESTIMONY. 
 
 When the name of Miss Harby was called as the next wit¬ 
 ness, there was a general move in the court, and a tiptoing of 
 those behind to obtain the first glimpse of the lady. A few 
 minutes elapsed, and the bolt of the middle door shot back, and 
 Miss Harby, closely veiled, entered, leaning upon the arm of 
 Captain Fremaux. She walked falteringly up to the witnesses’ 
 chair and took her seat. At the solicitation of the attorney- 
 general, her heavy brown veil was raised, leaving only the black 
 lace, through which the features were plainly discernible. Her 
 face is beautiful, and the piercing black eyes fairly sparkled as 
 she encountered the gaze of the gaping multitude of men before 
 her. Her voice has that silvery tone which is so calculated to 
 please—neither too soft nor too harsh. She expressed herself, 
 when not agitated, clearly and firmly, using the most chaste and 
 elegant language. 
 
 Miss Harby sworn: Is the daughter of the prisoner at the 
 bar. I first met Charles H. C. Stone in June, 1855. I met him 
 a year before; had no acquaintance with him then. He visited 
 my father’s house frequently, about five months after his intro¬ 
 duction. [The witness here placed her handkerchief to her 
 eyes, and wept and sobbed violently; and many in the court and 
 jury wept also.] I became a mother on the 6th of February, 
 1858: C. H. C. Stone was the father. I certainly expected to 
 become his wife, because he promised me marriage a few weeks 
 after he became acquainted with me. My parents first knew of 
 my situation in November; was in my bedroom when Mr. Stone 
 met my father: heard my father accuse Mr. Stone of being my 
 seducer; saw him lean his head on the mantel-piece and remain 
 
61 
 
 silent; heard him say that if he would give him until nine 
 o’clock to-morrow, he would make every reparation. Never saw 
 him again. 
 
 Questioned by the attorney-general: Mr. Stone is the father 
 of my child; he seduced me on the evening of the 24th of No¬ 
 vember, 1855. His intercourse has been habitual since he 
 seduced me in my father’s house; his intercourse was always 
 with me at my father’s house, except one occasion at his own 
 room, over the store of Dudley & Nelson; on that occasion had 
 been out with him all the evening; and on leaving the theatre, 
 went to an ice-cream saloon on Canal street, and then went to 
 get in the Magazine omnibus. There had been no intercourse 
 between us for several months up to that time. I asked him 
 not to take me to his room. He told me to hush, and when 
 reaching the door on Common street, he opened it and pushed 
 me in. I always got in home by means of a night-key. I had 
 been out with another gentleman with the night-key, but was 
 not in the habit of so doing. I had befen out with Mr. Morrow 
 and Mr. Simmons, and once with Mr. Colles, Mr. Ferguson, Mr. 
 Kitchen and Mr. Allinet. Only used the night-key with Mr. 
 Morrow and Mr. Stone. I never was at the Lake with any 
 gentleman. I had no acquaintances on Circus street. I had 
 none on Basin street. Never was on those streets at night. No 
 other gentleman but Mr. Stone ever took any liberty with me; 
 Mr. Raiue never took any liberties with me. Mr. Stone never 
 used force except on the first occasion, but afterward used per¬ 
 suasion. 
 
 LETTER FROM MISS HARRY TO HER SEDUCER. 
 
 New Orleans, March 24. 
 
 Dear Charley : I have written you, yet you have never an¬ 
 swered me; still I do not feel discouraged, for I cannot believe 
 that all the love and devotion which you professed to have had 
 for me, up to the last time that I saw you, could have passed 
 away, and that you could have become so black-hearted and 
 cruel as to speak ill of me; and what is more, what I hear you 
 have said of me is false, and that you know full well. Charley, 
 I cannot believe the half of what I hear; you loved me, Charley; 
 oh, yes, you did! or why would you have cursed yourself and 
 
62 
 
 shed tears for the injury you have done me. If you had married 
 me, I would have made you a faithful and devoted wife. God 
 and yourself only know how I loved you. Come and see me; 
 come and see our boy. He is a pretty boy, and, oh, Charley, he 
 is the image of you. How I love him and you, his father. For 
 God’s sake, come! I feel that you are not acting from the im¬ 
 pulses of your own heart; do not be actuated by the evil mo¬ 
 tives of others. I am always alone from eight o’clock in the 
 morning until three in the afternoon, for papa has his school 
 duties to attend to; then, do come. I will expect you in per¬ 
 son, or a letter from you, immediately. 
 
 (Signed) C. 
 
 While this letter was being read. Miss Harby cried and 
 groaned bitterly. Other letters were read, among them the fol¬ 
 lowing : 
 
 LETTER FROM MISS HARBY TO THE BROTHER OF HER SEDUCER, 
 
 St. Louis, Mo,, Dec. 13, 1851. 
 
 Mr. Joseph Stone —Dear Sir: I arrived in this large city 
 this afternoon, and according to promise inform you of it, I am 
 '^s well as can be expected under the circumstances I labor 
 under. Father has taken board for us in a private boarding¬ 
 house for a few days. To-morrow will be Monday, when he 
 intends to look for employment in the public schools, or do any 
 thing to support his family. Should he succeed in doing any 
 thing, he will hire a house, and will live alone and retired. I 
 am sorry to say that father and mother are very melancholy and 
 silent; not a word has escaped their lips concerning the unfor¬ 
 tunate events which drove them from a home, from friends, and 
 from their support and livelihood. 0 God! how I feel for them; 
 but how dare I offer comfort—I, who am the cause of their 
 grief and poverty. I know they sympathize with me; and, 
 though I am undeserving, they love me still. Oh, if Charley 
 could see their grief, and know my love for him, how his heart 
 would grieve. Embrace your brother for me, and say that while 
 I live no one but him will possess my affections and my true love. 
 
 Yours, with respect and regard, 
 
 C. R. Harby. 
 
 (Signed) 
 
63 
 
 ANOTHER LETTER FROM CAROLINE TO CHARLES. 
 
 While this was being read, Miss Harby wept and sobbed ter¬ 
 ribly. 
 
 St. Louis, Feb. 15, 1858. 
 
 Dear Charles; You will not write to me, nor will your 
 brother Joseph keep his word to write to me; therefore I must 
 say a few words to you. You have a son—a dear, smart boy! 
 You will not desert your child; you will not bring such guilt 
 and horror upon your soul. Oh, write me immediately upon the 
 receipt of this. If you have any heart, any love, any feeling— 
 write to me 1 Do not keep me in suspense! Oh, how I love 
 my sweet boy I—my other dear Charles! And do you suppose 
 I do not love you, the father of my child ? I know you have a 
 good heart. Do not oppose the virtuous dictates of your con¬ 
 science, but answer me at once. 
 
 Your faithful, loving 
 
 (Signed) Caroline. 
 
 The state called several witnesses, who testified that they had 
 seen Miss Harby behave in an immodest manner, and two or 
 three of them asserted that they had had sexual intercourse with 
 her. One stated that he had frequently had intercourse with 
 her, and that she once told him that she was endente, and he the 
 father. 
 
 A STARTLING SCENE. 
 
 Miss Harby, after this style of evidence had been closed, was 
 recalled, and the scene is thus related by the Delta: 
 
 “ She was escorted in by Mr. Demarest, and up to the witness 
 stand. She mounted the steps firmly, and instead of seating 
 herself, stood up, raised her right hand, and in a clear, loud 
 voice, which fell with electric force upon the breathless assem¬ 
 blage, said: 
 
 “ ‘ Before Almighty God, and by all my hopes hereafter, I do 
 solemnly swear that what those men have sworn about me is 
 false —FALSE —FALSE ! [stamping her foot]. Ip ten thou¬ 
 sand LIVES depended ON IT, IT, IS ALL FALSE ! I don’t see 
 how any men could come, here and talk that way about me be¬ 
 fore my lather, and”— 
 
64 
 
 “ Here she fell in the chair and gave way to a hysterical fit of 
 weeping and sobbing. The court was fairly stunned by her 
 vehemence, and the dramatic force of the scene.” 
 
 CASE CLOSED. 
 
 The case was here closed and submitted without argument. 
 After the charge of the judge, the jury retired at about half-past 
 five. In about fifteen minutes they returned and wished to be 
 charged upon certain points, or rather, whether if the accused 
 had committed murder, could any circumstances palliate it. 
 After some delay the court again charged them, and they re¬ 
 tired. 
 
 THE VERDICT BY THE JURY AND THE POPULACE. 
 
 They returned almost immediately into court, and upon an¬ 
 swering to their names, they rendered a verdict of “ Not guilty.” 
 
 The crowd in the court-room, which was now densely packed, 
 burst forth into one roar of approbation, and rushed toward the 
 prisoner to congratulate him. In vain did the deputy sheriffs 
 call order and rush in among the crowd; but it was not until 
 Mr. Durant, standing upon a chair, asked, for the sake of Mr. 
 Harby, to keep quiet, that a little order was established. After 
 Mr. Harby was duly discharged, the crowd rushed out to see 
 him. He was taken into the clerk’s office, and after the crowd 
 had rushed into St. Anne street, he was led quietly out and 
 placed in a carriage and driven off. As he passed down St. 
 Anne street, the crowd greeted him with shouts. The old gentle¬ 
 man waved his hat. The daughter, who had been remaining in 
 an outer office during the whole trial, was taken away in a car¬ 
 riage by some friends. 
 
 No man of heart and judgment can peruse the letters of Miss 
 Harby to her betrayer, and not feel that she was a sincere, noble- 
 hearted woman, and pure to all the world except the man who 
 had promised to make her his legal wife. The perjured villains 
 who strove to brand her with unmerited infamy, had doubtless 
 committed themselves to their line of testimony long before the 
 shooting of Stone; and quite likely some of them feared that 
 the avenging hand of some other outraged parent might light 
 upon their persons, should Harby not’be convicted. 
 
66 
 
 But, fortunately, the decision of the case was in higher hands ; 
 the jury acquitted him, and the public endorsed their verdict— 
 “ Vox popvli vox DeV' 
 
 The above account is given in detail, in order to show just 
 what any deceived woman will have to encounter, who shall 
 be so unwise as to carry her suit into a court of justice; and not 
 only the plaintiff herself) but also any female witness, however 
 respectable, who may either willingly or by compulsion pre¬ 
 sent testimony in her favor.* 
 
 Where so little is to be expected from courts of justice, it is 
 not strange that husbands and fathers should take the law into 
 their own hands, or that victims should revenge themselves upon 
 their seducers, or that the public sympathy should almost invari¬ 
 ably be with the avengers, since the course pursued is proof pos¬ 
 itive that a serious injury has been done. It is not so, however, 
 when a case of seduction is taken into court; for here there is a 
 chance for conspiracy, and the public at once begin to question 
 the motives of the prosecutors; the real object may be to black- 
 
 ♦ Treatment of Witnesses .—“ It appeared that the plaintiff; who was a 
 very respectable lady, had boarded and lodged the defendant’s wife for 
 several weeks during the period of that lady’s illness, caused, as sug¬ 
 gested by counsel, by the conduct of the defendant. She had also supplied 
 her with a few necessary articles of dress. 
 
 The plaintiff having been examined in chiei; 
 
 The defendant, in cross-examining her, said: Did you take her in for 
 an immoral purpose ? (Suppressed laughter). 
 
 "Witness (indignantly).—I took your wife in as a gentlewoman in distress. 
 I am a gentlewoman myseli; and you ought to be ashamed to ask such a 
 question. 
 
 Mr. Baron Bramwell.—The lady has a right ro resent such a question as 
 that. 
 
 Witness.—She never saw gentlemen at my house. She did not drink 
 hard. She was not a teetotaller, but she never adopted the example set 
 her by the man whoso case you are now so meanly pleading. 
 
 Mr. Baron Bramwell (to the defendant).—I don’t know whether you 
 have any foundation for these questions; but if not, I must say that they 
 are most disgraceful. No person, be he counsel or not, has a right to put 
 such questions unless he be satisfied in his own mind that he has some 
 foundation for them .”—London Times. 
 
 The rebuke of the learned English judge should find an echo in this 
 country, where too much license is allowed by the court to members of 
 the bar, in their attempts to badger and confuse a witness. 
 
66 
 
 mail the accused, to recover heavy damages where no serious 
 ofifence has been committed, or compel the defendant to many a 
 woman who has sinned with other men—men equally guilty, 
 hough not so well-to-do as himself.* But when a deceived 
 woman, or her near-kin, strike down a libertine, and thus, while 
 scorning to appeal to the law, place themselves within the pale 
 of it, the very desperation of the act proves unmistakably that 
 a great wrong has been committed, and the public mind at once 
 leaps to a just appreciation of the case. 
 
 But however much the systematic seducer may merit death, 
 what human heart does not shrink from the idea of so dread and 
 (in these cases) sudden a punishment being inflicted upon him ? 
 To be sure, he has no feeling for his victim, and often sets about 
 his nefarious task with all the coolness of a regular assassin; but 
 as the law grants even the deliberate murderer time for repent¬ 
 ance, perhaps even the libertine has some claim to similar favor; 
 at all events, some infliction short of taking life, some punish¬ 
 ment which shall disgrace the systematic seducer, which shall 
 isolate him in a measure from society, and, as it were, tie his 
 hands from the commission of further evil, is a better method of 
 dealing with such offenders. 
 
 Instances of retribution, which were designedly of this char¬ 
 acter, might be furnished by the score, but they are too barbarous 
 to be imitated and too suggestive to be made public; but as in 
 two of these the punishment was unmistakably just, and of the 
 only character that would meet the particular cases, and the 
 publicity may serve to warn thoughtless young men of what 
 they are liable to encounter should they ever seriously enter upon 
 the libertine’s career, the facts will be presented. 
 
 A once worthy and really excellent woman, who, through the 
 combined application of opiates and force, had been dishonored 
 and disgraced, passed step by step down the declivity of ruin 
 until she became the keeper of a house of ill-fame. Fallen as 
 she had become, she still had a just appreciation of virtue, and 
 
 * Under the laws of the state of New Tork, the seducer has presented 
 him the alternative of marrying his victim or being sent to prison, and 
 not unfrequently he accepts the fii'st condition to save himself from the 
 confinement of stone walls. 
 
67 
 
 was not only horror-struck, but enraged beyond endurance, when 
 a wealthy libertine came to her house and offered her a large 
 sum of money if- she would induce a younger sister of hers, then 
 living every way respectably with her mother, to place herself 
 at his disposal. “ Villain,” she exclaimed, “I keep this house 
 for the accommodation of unfortunates who, like myself, have 
 been forced by the heartless devices of your sex to disreput¬ 
 able means of existence; no innocent girl has ever been dis¬ 
 honored under my roof, or eyer shall be. With you to purpose 
 is almost to accomplish; my young sister is now good and pure; 
 approach her in any way, and I will make such an example of 
 you that you will be glad to change places with even me, the 
 vilest of my kind !” 
 
 The roue was at first confounded by this sudden outbreak of 
 feeling, but viewing it as a mere burst of passion, a feeble flick¬ 
 ering of former virtuous sentiment, he shortly after had the 
 temerity to repeat his offer, adding that he had already managed 
 to secure a respectable introduction to the young lady, and there¬ 
 fore it was now of but little use to contend with him. 
 
 The poor woman was startled, and at first very much affected, 
 at finding this serpent had made his first advance toward her 
 relative’s ruin; but recovering herself, she at last seemed to ac¬ 
 quiesce in her sister’s fate, and begged her visitor to share with 
 her a bottle of wine, as she wished to quiet her disturbed feel¬ 
 ings : to this he assented, and she plied the villain so liberally 
 with her choicest champagne, that he soon became thoroughly 
 helpless from intoxication, when she took her shears, and lopping 
 off a portion of his ears, secretly despatched the same along with 
 an explanatory note to her mother. 
 
 Ashamed of his loss, not daring to appeal to the law, or even 
 to avenge himself for fear of exposure, the baffled, and now 
 thoroughly humbled villain confined himself to his room until 
 his locks overgrew his shame, and then quit his native state, and 
 now lives and wanders in constant dread that a sudden gust of 
 wind or some untoward accident will expose his calamity, and 
 he be viewed as an escaped convict, or the recipient of some 
 secret and most disgraceful punishment. 
 
 The other instance of severe retribution referred to, did not 
 
68 
 
 occur in this country, but is given here, because its details will 
 not cause pain to the relatives of the principal actors, as would 
 those of a similar case nearer home, which could be presented; 
 and also because it shows the artful manner in which women are 
 drawn into the toils of the destroyer. The account is copied 
 mainly from an English work. 
 
 Col. Helene was a simple-hearted but high-spirited officer in 
 the British army, and when he was ordered with his regiment to 
 India, he left behind him a young wife and two lovely children. 
 Mrs. Helene was a very beautifnl and attractive woman, and, un¬ 
 til some time after her husband’s absence, a most exemplary 
 wife and mother, as was indicated by the fact that, directly after 
 her husband sailed, she retired to a country seat a short distance 
 from London, out of deference to her unprotected position, and 
 with a desire to devote herself to her children. 
 
 Annesly was Mrs. Helene’s name before she was married, 
 and unfortunately, though sincerely devoted to Col. Helene, he 
 was not her first love. Some two years before she met with 
 him, and while she was besieged with suitors, she made the ac¬ 
 quaintance of Capt. Alverly, a man whose fascinating appearance 
 and manners soon distanced the pretensions of all those who 
 aimed at an object he had selected. Alverly was, when he 
 choose, irresistible; he could inspire the woman he sought with 
 the idea that he loved her passionately; throwing a fervor and 
 devotion into his manner which few, very few women, and no 
 young, inexperienced woman, could resist. Poor Miss Annesly 
 fancied that this prize was hers, but the distinguished Alverly 
 disappeared from among the throng of her admirers, quite sud¬ 
 denly, he having discovered that she was not to come into pos¬ 
 session of some expected property. She felt quite indignant at 
 his desertion for such a cause, and her grief and mortification 
 were but little assuaged—however, perhaps, her pride might be 
 soothed—by the intimation Alverly contrived, for an ulterior 
 purpose, to carry to her, that her regrets fell infinitely short of 
 the poignancy of his own, in being compelled by others upon 
 whom his all depended, to abandon the dearest hopes he had 
 ever cherished. 
 
 Some months after the departure of her husband, Mrs. Helene 
 
69 
 
 went up to London, and took a carriage to the Horse Guards, in 
 order to ascertain, if possible, the duration of her husband’s stay 
 in India. She sent in her card to the Duke of Cambridge, whose 
 reply came by the hand of an officer, and that officer was Alver- 
 ly. The meeting was one of embarrassment on the part of both, 
 it being their first since Mrs. Helene was married. Alverly was 
 dressed in a splendid uniform, which set off his handsome person 
 to the greatest advantage, and was as much struck with the 
 fine personal appearance of his old love as she was by his own. 
 Their meeting was short, but the glances he gave her revived so 
 much of her past feelings, that when her carriage turned to leave, 
 such was her womanly instinct of danger that she heartily wish¬ 
 ed she had remained at home. 
 
 Alverly saw his advantage, and determined to profit by it; 
 and some months after, a packet having arrived at the Horse 
 Guards from India, enclosing a letter which the writer, Col. 
 Helene, begged might be thrown into the post for Mrs. Helene, 
 Alverly took it in charge, and rode out that very afternoon to 
 Mrs. Helene’s residence, and delivered it with his own hands 
 into those of the servant—“ with Capt. Alverly’s compliments” 
 —and then rode offi He justly considered that his delicacy in 
 doing so would be appreciated, and that she would feel piqued 
 that he had not called upon her, although all the time conscious 
 that it was best he should not. 
 
 Had Mrs. Helene then closely and faithfully examined her 
 own heart, in order to ascertain the exact nature of her feelings, 
 on finding that Capt. Alverly had himself brought her a letter, 
 with the immediate receipt of which he supposed she would be so 
 much gratified, and that he had abstained from personally de¬ 
 livering it: had she done this^ her terror-stricken eye might 
 have detected the serpent, dim-glistening in dreadful beauty, 
 beneath the concealing foliage—and her sudden shudder would 
 have been her salvation; but she did not—she could not. Hot 
 hers was the salutary habit or the power of self-examination. 
 She wa.s fatally remiss in guarding the “ approaches of her heart” 
 0, unhappy woman! why was it that when you beheld Capt 
 Alverly approaching to bring you the intelligence of your hus¬ 
 band’s triumphs, you trembled ? Why was that faint flutter at 
 
70 
 
 your heart ? What feelings fluttered through your bosom when, 
 leaning against the window, you followed his retiring figure? 
 Ought not the conscious difference with which you regarded 
 him, and any other man you saw around you, to have sounded 
 the alarm, in your husband’s name, in every chamber of your 
 heart ? 
 
 In this, his second move, Alverly had carried a great point; he 
 had made his purposed victim give him credit for honesty and 
 delicacy he did not possess; he complimented her by leading 
 her to suppose that he felt it was dangerous for him to trust 
 himself in her presence, and so not only caused her to think 
 of him often, but to think of him with respect and gratitude. The 
 result was that after one or two further calls, upon the same mis¬ 
 sion, on which occasions he did not hasten away, Mrs. Helene 
 became discontented with her retired life, and came up to Lon¬ 
 don on a visit to a relative. Ill-fated woman, dare you avow to 
 Heaven the gratification with which you found yourself becom¬ 
 ing intimate with Alverly’s distinguished family ? Alas 1 did 
 you not feel a secret satisfaction at finding yourself sitting at 
 Lord D—’s dinner table with Capt. Alverly beside you ? Were 
 you delighted or startled at the ardent gaze with which he re¬ 
 garded you ? Did you not observe and tremblingly appreciate 
 the tact with which attentions exquisitely flattering and gratify¬ 
 ing to you^ were concealed from all others? Did a sense of 
 security from observation begin to evince itself when you per¬ 
 ceived the skill with which his infernal movements were di¬ 
 rected ? 
 
 Of course, the end of all this was Mrs. Helene’s fall. Hearing 
 that her husband was on his way from India, and was to be ex¬ 
 pected daily, and having gone so far in evil that she dare not 
 look him again in the face, she eloped with Alverly, leaving her 
 children behind her. It is not possible to describe the feelings 
 of her unfortunate husband, when he found his home desolate, 
 his wife dishonored, and his children disgraced: he fell to the 
 floor in a violent fit of apoplexy. From the effects of this he 
 slowly recovered after several weeks of dangerous illness, which 
 left him almost a skeleton. A fine, muscular man when he 
 reached home, he now looked as if in the last stages of decline. 
 
71 
 
 He would sit alone and speechless for hours. His only employ¬ 
 ment seemed to be to practise with the pistol, as though pro¬ 
 ficiency with this weapon, for some especial end, was now the 
 great object of his life. 
 
 And lie had one special object in view, and that was, to inflict 
 upon the handsome Capt. Alverly a punishment worse than 
 death. That scoundrel had lately come into possession of an 
 immense fortune, and along with it inherited the title of a Lord, 
 and was shortly expecting to lead to the altar a young lady of 
 the highest rank. With youth, health, wealth, and station be¬ 
 fore him, he had every reason to desire to live and enjoy the 
 world, and his heart sank within him, and he cursed himself, his 
 victim, and all the world, when a challenge from Col. Helene was 
 handed to him, and he found he must place his life in jeopardy; but * 
 there was no retreat—fight he must—and he met the man he had 
 so foully wronged, who, at the second fire, and by means of his 
 long practice, directed his bullet to the head of his antagonist in 
 such a manner that, while it would not kill the villain, should yet 
 disfigure forever the face the handsome scoundrel so much prized. 
 Alverly’s nose and a portion of one cheek were shot away, and so 
 frightful was his appearance that, when he had recovered from 
 this wound, and managed to escape from his attendants, and 
 stood before the mirror, the thought of continuing to live so 
 marked, and so disgraced, was unendurable; he felt, like Cain, 
 that his punishment was greater than he could bear; and seizing 
 his pistols, he speedily put an end to his existence. What 
 this miserable man suffered during the brief time he stood before 
 that glass, probably counterbalanced all the pleasure of his 
 whole life. As to Col. Helene, when assured that his object had 
 been effected, he fell upon the field, in a second fit of apoplexy, 
 from which he never recovered; while his poor, unfortunate wife 
 ended her days in a mad-house. 
 
 Terrible as was this instance of retribution, a score of such 
 would not, even if enacted before their sight, deter some de¬ 
 bauchees from pursuing their destructive course. The habit of 
 preying upon the weaker sex becomes with them a passion as 
 insatiable as that of the gambler or drunkard—a craving which 
 
12 
 
 nothing but death will eradicate; while, like Locke, they relish 
 only “an intrigue which has a spice of danger in it.” 
 
 What shall be done with such men? How shall society pro¬ 
 tect itself against them ? Manifestly, by casting them out of 
 its pale—or at least out of the pale of all decent female society. 
 Social circles that fail to repel these men for their misdeeds, 
 should be made to do so through fear of being ranked on a par 
 with them. Why should the woman who associates with a 
 known libertine be held in higher esteem than she who as¬ 
 sociates with a courtezan ? Is her virtue in less danger of being 
 undermined in the one case than the other ? 
 
 Fathers! you would not permit your sons to keep the com¬ 
 pany of a known thief or professional gambler, and will you trust 
 your daughter to the companionship of a debauchee ? Brothers I 
 —too many of you know what woman’s weakness is—will not 
 love for your sister, or respect for your mother, prevent your in¬ 
 troducing a libertine to your home ? Mothers 1 is your daughter 
 so superior to all “ the daughters of men,” that she cannot be 
 placed in danger ? and will you, for the sake of a splendid match, 
 and under the silly belief that “ a reformed rake makes the best 
 husband,” hazard your child’s peace by bringing her in contact 
 with “ the destroyer ?” Woman! every honest female has a regard 
 for her reputation ; of the one who is careless of this, it may bo 
 safely said that she is in a fair way to be without any. Pardon 
 the comparison—you cannot play with soot without getting 
 crocked, and a reputation once soiled, is generally tarnished for¬ 
 ever. Marrying men! Some “deceived” women have made the 
 best of wives, but their “ indiscretion ” was a matter understood 
 and settled before marriage— as you value your future peace, look 
 well into the character of the men your proposed wife has been inti¬ 
 mate with. 
 
HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT. 
 (fbank forester.) 
 
TEICKS AND TRAPS 
 
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INTRODUCTION. 
 
 In our series of “ Tricks and Traps,” we had designed, 
 from the first, to devote one hook, at least, to “Horse- 
 Dealers;” the horse trade being a subject of much interest 
 to the public, both on account of the immense sum which 
 yearly changes hands through it, and to the facilities it 
 alffbrds for cheating. 
 
 As the person who, above all others, was best fitted to 
 do the matter full justice, application was made to “Frank 
 Forester.” What we now present is the result; the work 
 was not completed—his decease prevented that; and still it 
 has been decided to issue what Mr. Herbert did write, for 
 the following reasons: its merit; the possession of other 
 matter of his, from which the remainder of the book can 
 readily be compiled; and the fact that this was the last 
 literary worh he employed himself upon. 
 
 The likeness of “Frank Forester” forming the frontis¬ 
 piece of this book, we consider the best extant; and con¬ 
 ceive a portion of these pages cannot be better devoted 
 than to a glance at the life of the author, who very 
 justly says of his own works: “ I have taught, I have 
 inculcated, I have put forth nothing which I did believe to 
 be false or evil, or any thing which I did not believe to be 
 good and true. In all my writings, I have no line of which 
 I am ashamed, no word which I desire to blot.” 
 
yi 
 
 The personal and literary character of Henry William 
 Herbert were entirely disconnected, and they must he con¬ 
 sidered separately. The one was a series of splendid suc¬ 
 cesses, extending over a considerable number of years; as 
 the other was a constant succession of painful mistakes and 
 infirmities, crowned, at last, by the most fatal of all. 
 
 He was the eldest son of the Hon. and Kev. William Her¬ 
 bert, Dean of Manchester, second son of the second Earl of 
 Carnaervon, a member of the younger branch of the Earl¬ 
 dom of Pembroke. His mother was the Hon. Letitia Allen, 
 second daughter of Viscount Allen, of Kildare, Ireland, a 
 branch of the family of Leinster. 
 
 Mr. Herbert was born in London on the 7th of April, 
 1807, was first educated at home under a private tutor; 
 afterward at Dr. Hooker’s, Brighton; then at Eton; and 
 graduated at Cambridge in the winter of 1829-30. 
 
 In November, 1831, he came to America, and has ever 
 since resided here. His time has been almost wholly spent 
 —when not engaged in sporting excursions—in this city 
 and at his residence, “The Cedars,” near Kewark, Kew 
 Jersey. 
 
 Henry William Herbert has long been before the public 
 under the popular title of “ Frank Forester.” He was 
 among the most voluminous writers of the day, and among 
 the most successful as well. His published works, properly 
 gathered, would probably make fifty or sixty volumes. 
 
 His classical attainments would have done honor to a 
 man wholly devoted to that department; while his knowl¬ 
 edge of history and natural science was accurate and pro¬ 
 found, Many of his works of fiction had a wide circulation. 
 But his treatises and articles on sporting matters, many of 
 
trhich appeared in “ Porter’s-Spirit of the Times,” “Turf 
 Register,” &c., gave him his principal reputation, his im¬ 
 mense experience gained by every variety of sporting over 
 all the fields and waters of N’orthern America eminently 
 fitting him for this line of authorship; and we think he has 
 had an excellent influence upon the young men of this 
 country, by exciting in them a love of the manly sports 
 which do so much, not only for the physical development 
 of a people, but for their habits of natural observation and 
 their enjoyment of simple and healthful pleasures. 
 
 His last work on “The Horse and Horsemanship of Ame¬ 
 rica” attests to his research and ability as a writer, and 
 will also, we have no doubt, prove to be of much useful¬ 
 ness. 
 
 Of the causes which led so bright a man to an ignomin¬ 
 ious death by his own hand, we care not to enter upon; on 
 this point, he implores of the press— silence —and that ap¬ 
 peal we respect. 
 

CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 It has been wisely and pertinently remarked by an English 
 novelist, of high modern reputation, who may be held to be an 
 authority on the subject, from his long-familiar intimacy with the 
 never-sufficiently-to-be-admired “^two horsemen,” that, “although 
 in his whole nature and character there is not an lionester animal 
 in the world than a horse, yet there must be something, assuredly, 
 in an habitual intercourse with him, which is very detrimental to 
 honesty in others; for certainly, and I believe in all ages it has 
 been so, there cannot be conceived a race of more arrant cheats 
 and swindlers than the whole set of jockeys, grooms, and horse- 
 dealers.” 
 
 Why this should be the case, it would be difficult to explain; 
 but I fear that, in a great degree, it is true, and that its truth 
 holds good to the present day, and no less in relation to these 
 moral and model States of the great Atlantic republic, than to the 
 most benighted province, colony, or kingdom of the Old World, 
 whether civilized, semi-barbarous, or savage. 
 
 The Arabs, in the desert,—the black Mandingoes and Felatahs, 
 in Soudan and Nigritia,—the Shoshonees, the Blackfeet, and the 
 Arapahoes, on our own plains and mountains of the West,—are 
 no less expert, nay, according to some adventurous explorers, are 
 ten times more expert, as horse-thieves, horse-doctors, horse- 
 tamers, horse-swappers, and horse-sellers, than the ’cutest York- 
 shireman that ever came out of the vale of Pickering, or the cun- 
 ningest Yankee, that, green as he may appear to city swells, is 
 sure to turn out too much for the best of them, in a hard bargain, 
 where horse-flesh is concerned; while, at the same time, half 
 
8 
 
 the proudest peers in England, and highest-reaching gentlemen 
 everywhere, would endure with far more complacency—if not, 
 even, with a little quiet exultation—the charge of having got a 
 trifle to the windward of a sporting customer, in a deal, or stuck 
 a screw into a flat, than he would tolerate the imputation of hav¬ 
 ing been victimized, or done brown, by a hard-riding farmer, or, 
 still worse, a fashionable dealer. 
 
 It is an anomaly, certainly, that it should be, generally, con¬ 
 sidered more creditable to be the cheater than the cheatee, and 
 it is not the case in any other kind of business, of which I have 
 ever heard; but in horse-dealing it is so, beyond a peradventure. 
 Who, for instance, ever heard tell, even, of a stock-broker, who, 
 in the common acceptance, is the least scrupulous of men as to 
 the niceties of honor and the fine distinctions between meum et 
 tuum^ boasting publicly in the street, and taking to himself extra¬ 
 ordinary credit, for having sold to some too-confiding juvenal the 
 stock of some banking, or gutta-percha-makm^^ or morus-rrmlti- 
 cawZ^s-growing company, which had been for years in a condition 
 of chronic collapse, on his own especial recommendation ? 
 
 Who ever heard tell of the most enterprising and least particu¬ 
 lar, as to the means of making money, so money is made, among 
 our steamboat commodores^ as it is the fashion in some quarters 
 to designate them, avowing it openly, and claiming it as a feather 
 in his cap, that he has sold a floating coffin, in the shape of 
 a worn-out sixteen-times-revamped steam-tug, newly cl^ristened, 
 newly furnished, and as ship-shape as paint and varnish can make 
 her, to a company of California emigrants, well knowing that, 
 being minus half a boiler, or sprung in her walking-beam, or in 
 other ways utterly unseaworthy, she is all but morally certain to 
 go to the bottom, the first gale she may chance to encounter ? 
 
 Every one has heard of both the Wall-street broker and the 
 steamboat commodore doing the thing repeatedly— doing the thing, 
 in fact, whenever he gets a chance to do it; doing it con amore, 
 and chuckling over it, when done, in his own secret soul, as a 
 smart thing, to be repeated just so often as it can be repeated, 
 without detection or prosecution; but no mortal ever heard either 
 bragging of it, or supposing that he should gain eclat or good 
 report by its publicity. 
 
9 
 
 Yet who, on the other hand, was ever present at a gay con¬ 
 vivial meeting of young men, fast young men, rejoicing in the 
 fastness of every thing, and valuing all things, from a horse to a 
 girl, solely in reference to that quality of fastness^ without hearing 
 each and all of them brag over his brandy and water and cigar, 
 how cleverly he did Harry Pigeon, or Jack Green, last week—the 
 said Jack or Harry being, it is always to be understood, his most 
 particular of particulars, his unprofessional money-lender, his un¬ 
 questioning kite-endorser, his bailer out of station-houses, in short, 
 his universal Amphitryon—by sticking into him that old screw, 
 “ Hever-come-too-often,” who although he could once go low down 
 in the thirties, as everybody knows, has not been up to much 
 better than a four-mile gait any time in the last three years. 
 “And yet, boys, by dint of a little arsenic, I got the old raw- 
 boned beast as fat as a prize pig, and, thanks to lots of carrots 
 and boiled potatoes and a quantum-suflf. of nitre, as smooth in 
 his coat, as if he had been sewn up in satin; corned him a bit 
 extra for a week, gingered and cayenne-peppered him, one bright 
 morning—he was too fine, after that, you may be sure, to settle 
 down to his work—took him out, under the saddle, for a ride with 
 Jack on his cantering thorough-bred, and, before we got home, 
 changed horses with him, and put his check on ‘ the Mechanics’ ’ 
 into my pocket for a cool five hundred, boot. His thorough-bred 
 is better than old “ Never-come-too-often,” anyhow; and as for 
 “ Never,” if he don’t come down on his head, along of that nigh 
 fore-leg giving out, altogether—it has failed twice or three times 
 already—^the first time he shoves him a bit, on a hard road, and a 
 little more so, if it should be down-hill ground—why, my name’s 
 not what it used to be, that’s all, fellows, and I don’t know 
 nothing about horse-fiesh.” 
 
 And, thereupon, the assessors at the feast of the excellent 
 “hawk,” provided, it is like, by a judicious expenditure of a por¬ 
 tion of the spoils of “the pigeon,” very much applaud the science, 
 the knowingness, and the savoir-faire of the seller,'' 
 
 and make proportionately merry over the verdancy of the unfor¬ 
 tunate '•^sold;" anticipating fresh delights from the agony of the 
 said Jack Green, on the first occasion of his matching his new 
 acquisition, down the road, and finding himself pumped out and 
 
10 
 
 left half a mile in the lurch, by some regular old stager; or, still 
 better, from his discomfiture at being hurled upon his head, on the 
 way down to the Fashion track, and having to limp home, on 
 three legs, amid the jeers and slang of fast-driving butchers, with 
 no alternative but that of consigning his five-hundred-dollar pur¬ 
 chase to the nearest manufactory of stearine; and no consolation, 
 but that of reflecting that if he do no better, he cannot well do 
 worse, next time. 
 
 It is certainly unaccountable that, among Christian gentlemen, 
 considering themselves strictly honorable, and, it is not to bo dis¬ 
 puted, in other respects, moderately honest, as the times go, two 
 cases, which, to the eyes of common observers, would appear al¬ 
 most identical, should be esteemed so different in their nature, 
 that, while the one should be stigmatized as a deed of unmitigated 
 rascality, the other should be held worthy of all praise, approba¬ 
 tion, and imitation. 
 
 We will suppose the two cases; and leave it to our readers to 
 account to themselves for the different estimate in which they are 
 held by the public—^the sporting public, we mean, by the censure 
 or praise of which, alone, sporting men are—^to borrow a phrase 
 from their own vocabulary—liable to be brought to book. 
 
 Mr. Hawker, we will say, is a crack shot, an established au¬ 
 thority on all things pertaining to field sports; his guns are per¬ 
 fection ; his dogs unrivaled for breed, speed, bottom, and break¬ 
 ing. Mr. Hawker has a large kennel, from which, as he intro¬ 
 duces new drafts, season alter season, he is in the habit of selling, 
 to his friends or acquaintances, those animals, which although 
 excellent are not quite so first-rate, as he would himself choose to 
 shoot over. Mr. Hawker has a large armory, from which, as he 
 always buys all the newest and latest improvements, he is some¬ 
 times induced to spare a gun to a friend, who is willing to pay for 
 it, although a good deal worn, the same price it was worth when 
 new, since the deterioration has been fully made up by the addi¬ 
 tional prestige conferred upon it by the fact that it has been for 
 some time the chosen shooting-iron of that first-rate sportsman. 
 Hawker, 
 
 Well, Hawker has, by some chance, a well-looking double- 
 barrel, which still shoots hard, strong, and close with the left, but 
 
11 
 
 of which the right, having been, as is often the case, much more 
 hardly used than its fellow, has given note that it is no longer 
 what it used to be,—has given, in a word, symptoms of giving 
 out, and cannot be regarded as altogether trustworthy, or safe to 
 the shooter. His friend, a mere would-be beginner in the noble 
 art of volunicide, visits Mr. Hawker; has heard that he has a good 
 gun of which he might be induced to dispose; would like to know 
 if it is a real good one; would like to see Mr. Hawker fire a few 
 shots with it—just to see how it performs—^being no shot himself; 
 not that he has any doubt of the gun. Oh, no I—none in the world; 
 but he should like, before purchasing, to be sure, with Ms own 
 eyes, of what the gun can perform. Hawker thereupon declines, 
 in toto^ to recommend. There is so much difference, you know, in 
 the choice of guns. What suits one man to perfection, doesn’t 
 come up right to another; or it is a little too heavy, or a little too 
 light, upon the' trigger; or something or other about it does not 
 suit; and then, if the buyer does not like his purchase, the seller 
 always gets the blame and so forth—not but what the gun has 
 been a favorite with him for many a day. A smashing killer it 
 used to be; no cleaner killer in the county; with the left barrel 
 especially—the left barrel always was, a thought, the best, and is 
 yet—“Remember that^ if you ever own the gun; remember thaiy 
 I tell you, G-reenman, that the left barrel is the best.” There¬ 
 after, upon much persuasion. Hawker takes down the gun from 
 the hooks, loads the left barrel to a nicety, steps out upon the 
 lawn, knocks over half a dozen swallows and martins, without 
 missing a shot—taking especial care to avoid the suspicious right- 
 hand barrel, and to hold his tongue about it, so that Greenman, 
 never suspecting but that he is blazing away with both, turn 
 about, is enchanted by the display, becomes the happy owner of 
 the piece, at an enormous figure, and, after a month’s possession, 
 on the first day in which he obtains some quick shooting, bursts 
 the right barrel with an under-charge, loses his left hand at the 
 wrist, and narrowly escapes losing his life. Thereupon all the 
 world commiserate Greenman, and cry out against the rascality 
 of Hawker, who, as they declare, ought to be tried for his life, 
 for selling a condemned gun, to fire which, as he well knew, was 
 as much as a man’s life is worth, to any human being, much less 
 
12 
 
 to a person whom he called a friend. So Greenman becomes a 
 hero because he has been a victim, and Hawker, because he has 
 been a victimizer, is incontinently—and we are far from saying 
 undeservedly—sent to Coventry. 
 
 Now let us reverse the case. Mr. Bullfinch is a hunting genius 
 of repute, equal to that which Hawker boasts as a shot. He is 
 equally well provided with all the tools and appliances of his 
 trade. He has hunters of all kinds—flyers for the grass countries; 
 steady well-bottomed wade-horses, for the plow-lands; standing- 
 jumpers, water-jumpers, rushers, every thing, in a word, except 
 slugs or screws. Well, one bright morning he finds, as Mr. Haw¬ 
 ker found in relation to his “Purdey” or his “Moore & Gray,” 
 that “Sir Hercules,” the three-hundred-guinea Lottery colt, which 
 has gone at the head of the ruck the last two seasons at Melton, 
 has got a screw loose somewhere. The machine is overhauled, 
 examined, weighed in the balance, and found wanting—back sin¬ 
 ews so very shaky that it is all but certain the first hard day, 
 over hardish ground, will finish them. There is a suspicion also 
 that the wind of “ Sir Hercules” is not quite the same thing that it 
 was, when he led the ruck, as aforesaid, at Melton Mowbray. In 
 short, Mr. Bullfinch judges it advisable to get rid of “ Sir Hercules” 
 at the best figure he can make of him, but at any figure rather than 
 not at aU, and that as soon as possible. 
 
 Well, in process of time, Mr. Bullfinch’s friend, Mr. Greenman, 
 waits on him, just as had occurred in the case of Mr. Hawker. 
 The same farce is played over again. Bullfinch could not think of 
 recommending “Sir Hercules,” of recommending “any horse,” in 
 short, to any gentleman, least of all to a friend. A horse that car¬ 
 ries one man, to his ideal, to another man is impracticable; he pulls 
 too much, or he does not pull enough; or his mouth is too heavy, 
 or it is too light,—just as the man’s hand, you know, is too hard or 
 too delicate; or he shies, or he is too long or too short a strider; 
 or he is something or other, which does not suit the buyer; and 
 then the seller gets all the blame with the world,—the world is so 
 hard upon all horse-dealers. Oh, no! by no manner of means I 
 Mr. Bullfinch could not think of recommending “ Sir Hercules” to 
 his friend Greenman; if he should like to try him, however, a can¬ 
 ter aroimd the park and over the clipped holly-hedge, and the 
 
14 
 
 Bourne brook, in the bottom, and, for the matter of that, the park 
 palings, if he pleases, beside Hartley Wood, where it is all grass¬ 
 land and nice soft ground at that, he can do so and welcome; and 
 then, if he like to buy, “entirely on his own responsibihty,” you 
 know, why the price is three hundred—it ought to be three hun¬ 
 dred and fifty! How could any one expect to get a horse that had 
 gone in front of the whole ruck, at Melton, for two years, short 
 of three hundred and fifty ? But, as it is his friend Greenman, and 
 Greenman has taken such a fancy to “ Sir Hercules,” why, Mr. 
 Bullfinch will say three hundred; but Greenman must be sure to 
 remember that he did not recommend the horse—would not re- 
 / commend any horse—no, by Jove! 
 
 Well, Greenman tries the horse—a hand-gallop over the soft, 
 smooth green; over the clipped holly-hedge; over the Bourne 
 brook, with a splendid sweep, covering thirty feet; over the park- 
 pales, with the practiced buck-leap of a finished hunter—on the 
 soft ground, and for a quarter of a mile, he could not fail, if he 
 tried. Greenman is charmed. Greenman buys “Sir Hercules,” 
 as an especial favor, at three hundred; and a week afterward, 
 toward the end of a brilliant burst, over hard ground, in which he 
 has gone splendidly for half an hour, “Sir Hercules” breaks down 
 irretrievably, in the back sinews of his near fore-leg, as he is in 
 the act of going at a rasping Bullfinch pace. He chests the live 
 wood, turns a complete summerset on the top of his rider, breaking 
 his collar-bone and half a dozen of his ribs,—and is shot, within 
 ten minutes, as hopelessly, incurably lamed and ruined for life. 
 
 Now, ordinary mortals would be apt to regard these two as 
 parallel cases; and to consider the case of Mr. Bullfinch as in no 
 wise more favorable than that of Mr. Hawker. Ignorant, ordi¬ 
 nary mortals 1 The very world which bemoaned the fate of Mr. 
 Greenman, the gun-buyer—which proclaimed him a cruelly ill-used 
 individual, and ostracized Mr. Hawker for selling him, have no 
 bowels of compassion for Mr. Greenman, the horse-buyer, nor one 
 word of reprobation for Mr. Bullfinch, the horse-seller. Far from 
 it—he has gained a point. He stands one peg higher before the 
 world, as a horseman, than he stood before—and all that Green¬ 
 man will hear of liimself by way of consolation, which will not, 
 probably, prove too consolatory, is—“ D—d fool, that Greenman! 
 
16 
 
 serves him right, by Jove! it would have been no great harm if 
 it had been his neck 1 Might have known better than to have 
 bought a horse of such a tip-top performer as Bullfinch. Just as 
 if Bullfinch would sell a horse, while he had any real good left in 
 him; or as if he would have sold Sir Hercules for twice three 
 hundred, unless there had been a screw loose somewhere. Con¬ 
 founded ass, that Greenman. Deuced glad Bullfinch let him in for 
 three hundred—wish it had been for twice as much. Wonder, if I 
 could not stick my old brown mare, Betsey Baker, into him. She 
 is only blind of one eye, and has an incipient bog spavin. I’ll try it 
 on, I believe. Confounded ass, that Greenman; one ought to make 
 all one can out of such fiats while the sunshine lasts—that is to say, 
 while they have any thing left which one can make out of them.” 
 
 This, therefore, being the public sentiment in reference to small 
 advantages taken of the unwary iii the matter of horse-dealing, 
 though, as aforesaid, we neither made nor can comprehend, much 
 less can explain the sentiment, and it being conceded that not 
 only professional sharps, but even amateur sharps, honorable gen¬ 
 tlemen in high places, will condescend to practice upon the ver¬ 
 dancy of would-be horse-purchasing fiats, it is the more necessary 
 that they should be put something on their guard in relation to 
 some of the most flagrant tricks and traps of the horse-dealing 
 community, whether of this class or of that; and to this end we 
 propose to devote a little leisure time, and a little of the experi¬ 
 ence gained by a long period of horse-fancying and horse-keeping, 
 diversified, it may be, somewhat by trivial interludes of conjuga¬ 
 ting the verb victimize in its active and passive forms, as, for 
 instance, “I victimize you, having myself been victimized by him.” 
 
 The method which we propose to adopt, is to institute an ex¬ 
 amination of all the principal parts and members of the horse, 
 beginning with the head, and continuing until the whole structure 
 of the animal, with the principal defects and methods adopted, 
 by dishonest dealers, to palliate or conceal those defects, has been 
 fully treated in detail. By this means, and by the introduction 
 of, here and there, a racy anecdote by way of illustration, and to 
 fix the subject-matter on the memory of the reader, it is hoped 
 that we may do something to forewarn and forearm the unwary 
 against some at least of the tricks and traps of horse-dealers. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 The Head: Its Ailments and Defects.—The Eye. 
 
 It seems almost a truism and an absurdity to say, that in a 
 horse there is no more important point than his head, and that if 
 his head be not of the right size, the right form, and, in addition 
 to all this, rightly set on, the animal can have neither beauty nor 
 carriage, lightness on the hand, amenability to the bit, nor, in 
 fact, any pretensions at all to be a superior or a desirable animal. 
 Yet, truism or not, it must be, here, said. It will be, then, not 
 amiss to consider, shortly, what constitutes a right good head, by 
 what standard its size should be judged, and in what consists its 
 good or its bad setting on. 
 
 A well-formed head should be perfectly straight and flat from 
 the top-knot to the orbit of the eyes, and from thence downward, 
 nearly half the length to the muzzle; should be hollow or con¬ 
 cave, the nasal bones rising slightly above the nostrils, where 
 they should again be depressed and slope gently downward to the 
 termination of the upper jaw. This formation is that which 
 gives the characteristic basin-face of the Arabian horse, which has 
 descended, in a greater or less degree, to the thorough-bred horse 
 of America and England, and which is nearly as much a stamp 
 and mark of purity and excellence of blood, as are the thin skin 
 and protuberant veins of the same animal. This basin-face forma¬ 
 tion is as clearly a beauty in every family of horse to which it 
 belongs, or in which it is found, as is its converse, the protu¬ 
 berant, Roman nose, an ugly defect, a mark of coarse cold blood, 
 and, as believed, whether rightfully or wrongfully, by many 
 horsemen, a criterion of temper, indicating an obstinate, stubborn, 
 and sulky disposition. 
 
17 
 
 That the form of the nose should be in any way an effect or a 
 cause of temper, would seem to be palpably absurd, notwith¬ 
 standing what has in all ages been the received opinion concern¬ 
 ing the little feminine peculiarities indicated by the turned-up 
 nose of Roxand; it is not so absurd, however, when we regard 
 it as a mark of family blood, which we think it may be confidently 
 allowed to be; for blood has, indubitably, its adjunct and charac¬ 
 teristic peculiarities of disposition and temperament. 
 
 Beyond this, the front should be moderately broad between the 
 ears, which should be small, delicately pointed, erect, or rather 
 pricked forward, and rather far apart than near together. The 
 plane of the frontal bone should expand considerably in the region 
 of the orbits of the eyes, which is the broadest point; and the 
 width here gives much of the noble, open, and generous aspect 
 and appearance which is peculiar to the blood-horse; thence the 
 face should taper considerably to the thinnest point, just above 
 the nose, where it should expand in soft curves, to give full room 
 for the nasal cavities and the wide orifices of the nostrils. The 
 jowl, or upper portion of the posterior maxillary bone, forming the 
 cheek, should be flat, bony, not meaty, with a clean and nearly 
 semicircular curve to its under outline; the jaw should be thin, 
 clear of flesh, tapering and bony; the chin well developed, and 
 rather prominent than otherwise. The orbits of the eyes and the 
 orifices of the nostrils should be large and open; the blood¬ 
 vessels prominent and conspicuous through the skin; the pro¬ 
 cesses of bone sharp and weU defined; the chords and sinews 
 well marked; but the whole head, as its chief characteristic, 
 should be bony, rather than fleshy or muscular, especially at the 
 insertion of the neck, and along the under outline of the lower 
 jaw. 
 
 In regard to size, in a perfectly well-made horse, the length of 
 the head should be equal to the length of the throat, from the in¬ 
 sertion in the jowl to the chest. The length of the neck, from 
 the poU to the insertion of the withers in the back, should be 
 precisely equal to two heads; the saddle place, from the inser¬ 
 tion of the withers to the hip, precisely one head; the length 
 from the hip to the insertion of the tail, one head. The fore-arm, 
 from the insertion of the chest to the lower extremity of the 
 
18 
 
 knee-joint; the quarter, measured from the point of the stifle to 
 the upper point of the hock, and the hinder shank, from the 
 upper point of the hock to the ground, should be, each and all, 
 precisely one head’s length; and, if the head exceed the measure 
 of any one, or all, of these points, all of which, in a perfectly 
 well-made horse, will exactly coincide, or fall below it, it is, by 
 exactly the measure of its excess or default, disproportionately 
 large, or small. The latter fault, it may be here observed, though 
 it is the commonest of all in the portraits of horses, which almost 
 invariably reduce the length of the heads, and exaggerate that of 
 the necks in an absurd degree, is the most rare of aU things in a 
 real horse,—so rare, that although the writer has seen many a 
 score of horses, with heads too large for beauty or utility, he 
 never saw a single instance of one too small, in proportion to the 
 frame and limbs. 
 
 The next point to be considered is the setting on of the head; 
 and this, together with the size and form of that capital organ, 
 has so much to do with the pleasure and comfort of the owner, 
 both in regard to riding and driving, but more especiaUy to the 
 former, that it must never be neglected by the purchaser. In 
 this respect, the first and great point is the formation of the neck 
 and throat, for with an ill-made and ill-balanced neck, it is not 
 possible to have a well set-on head. The neck of a horse should 
 always be convex on the upper side, its vertebrae forming a reg¬ 
 ular arch, the highest point of which, when clothed with its 
 muscles, is situated at about one-third of the length, reckoning 
 from the head, when the animal is standing at ease, and is not 
 excited or induced to elevate his crest by any thing which may 
 chance to attract his attention; the under side of the neck, which 
 is occupied by the windpipe and gullet, larynx and pharynx^ 
 should offer a concave arch, nearly similar to the external curva- 
 tion of the upper arch of the neck, with the exception only, 
 that, the base of the neck, where it is inserted in the chest, being 
 much deeper, and more heavily clothed with muscles than the 
 upper part, where it joins the head, the concavity below will be 
 less regular and far less gradual than the curve above. The 
 reason why this form is desirable, is this, that the elastic liga¬ 
 ment, or pack wax, as it is technically called, which keeps the 
 
.19 
 
 head, in its ordinary state, at a proper elevation, passes, loosely, 
 over the first vertebral bone of the spinal column of the neck, and 
 is principally attached to the dentata, or second bone, on which 
 lies the chief stress. This ligament is so elastic, that, when those 
 muscles, the use of which it is to depress or lower the head, are 
 brought into operation and add their power to the natural weight 
 of the head, it will stretch to the full extent of two inches; and, 
 as soon as the pressure ceases, which has caused it to yield, will 
 return, with a spring like that of a steel bow, and bring back the 
 head to its proper position. Now, it is evident that if the dentata, 
 or bone over which this ligament passes, and from which it de¬ 
 rives its extension, be at the vertex of a convex arch, the ex¬ 
 tension will be entirely downward; so as to allow the head, when 
 depressed, to descend to the full extent of the elasticity, and the 
 nose to come in toward the chest, as it should do, obedient to the 
 pressure of the bit. On the contrary, if it be within the hollow 
 of a concave arch, as it is in that bad formation of the neck, 
 known to horsemen as the Ewe-neck^ which is connected with a 
 jutting out and convexity of the under side, which should be 
 concave, giving the animal that ungainly appearance, designated 
 by the term cock-thrappled, from its similarity to the out-strutting 
 gullet of chanticleer, the elastic ligament, in passing over the 
 first bone, which will necessarily be exterior to and higher than 
 the second, will have the greater portion of its elasticity expended 
 before it reaches the head, at all, so that the head can never be 
 properly or gracefully deflected, and that the nose must, neces¬ 
 sarily, when the head is brought back, be protruded beyond the 
 plane of the frontal bone, instead of forming with it a perpendicu¬ 
 lar to the horizon, or even falling within the perpendicular. 
 
 To render this description more comprehensible, we attach two 
 sketches. The first is one of a head and neck about as good as 
 can be desired, presenting all the points on which we have in¬ 
 sisted, and which will naturally allow, as will be seen at a glance, 
 the nose, when deflected, to descend inward, with a graceful 
 downward curve of all the vertebrae of the neck, toward the chest 
 of the animal, which is, as we have before stated, the grand 
 desideratum in the carriage of the animal. 
 
 The second is one of a head and neck about as bad as can be 
 
20 
 
 found, presenting the ewe-neck, the false attachment of the head, 
 • ' the thick jowl, the Roman nose, and the heavy, meaty head in 
 generah This latter sketch will suffice to show the inteUigent 
 
 ABOUT AS BAD AS CAN BE. 
 
 observer, first, that the undue size and weight of the head will 
 render it impossible for the animal to get it properly and hand¬ 
 somely up, but must force it horizontally forward; and, secondly, 
 
21 
 
 that the malformation of the neck, on the pressure of the bit upon' 
 the jaws, will cause the nose to be protruded outward, the crest 
 and back of the neck to be brought back toward the hand, and 
 the flexure of the throat to be bent, more and more, forward and 
 outward, so as to give the animal, more and more, the air and 
 carriage of the peacock, and, less and less, that of the horse. 
 
 In order to explain yet more fully our meaning, and to eluci¬ 
 date the action of the muscles and the operation of the two for¬ 
 
 mations, which we have described, we add two further outline 
 sketches of the two necks, represented above in their natural 
 
22 
 
 quiescent states or positions, when subjected to the influence of 
 the same pull upon the same part, and with the same power. 
 The carriage of the two animals will be seen, the one to be as 
 graceful, and such as to bring the mouth as completely under the 
 control of the rider, as possible; the other to be as ungainly as 
 can be conceived, and such as to render the control of the action, 
 or paces, all but impossible. 
 
 We now proceed to those diseases and defects to which the 
 head of the horse is liable, and to the tricks by which dealers 
 have it in their power, more or less, to patch them up tem¬ 
 porarily, or conceal them, and to the modes of examination by 
 which they are to be detected. The principal and, perhaps, most 
 dangerous sui generis disease of the horse’s head is that known as 
 the poll evil, which is produced either by striking the poll against 
 the lower edge of the manger, or of a low doorway, in the act of 
 passing in or passing out, or by hanging back in the stall and 
 bruising the part with the halter. It may also be produced by 
 painful overstretching of the ligaments by means of tight reining, 
 or even by a severe blow cruelly inflicted. On the commence¬ 
 ment of the disease violent inflammation appears, accompanied by 
 considerable swelling, tenderness, and pain in the parts affected, 
 which are situated, deeply seated between the pack wax^ or sup¬ 
 porting hgament of the neck, and the atlas, or flrst bone of the 
 neck, over which it passes loosely without attachment. Some¬ 
 times this affection is easily checked in the start by cold applica¬ 
 tions, sometimes it becomes very virulent, forms a deeply-seated 
 abscess and ulcer, eating into the ligaments of the neck, when it is 
 both intensely painful and extremely dangerous. In its incipient 
 state it is easily detected by examination, the swelling being ap¬ 
 parent to the eye, so as to be readily detected, and the parts 
 being hot to the touch, and so tender and painful that the animal 
 will shrink from the slightest application of the hand. 
 
 When it has degenerated into an open ulcer, it is, of course, un¬ 
 mistakably manifest. In no case, either when incipient, or in an 
 aggravated condition, should any person dream of purchasing a 
 horse so affected. There is, however, no mode by which this dis¬ 
 ease can be concealed from a careful observer, nor, when it has ^ 
 once been thoroughly cured, is there the slightest danger of a 
 
2S 
 
 relapse, or any objection to purchasing, unless it have left, as it 
 occasionally will, an ugly defect and blemish, owing to the de¬ 
 struction of the hair on the parts, and even of the mane, by the 
 disorganization an(i replacement of the cuticle. 
 
 Pressure, or “water in the brain,” is very rare in the grown 
 horse, although it is not unusual in the foal, when the head is im¬ 
 mensely and hideously enlarged, and the animal dies in a very 
 short time. The other principal diseases of the head, as megrims, 
 apoplexy, stomach-staggers, mad-staggers, locked-jaw, epileptic 
 fits, palsy, are so acute in their nature and characteristics, that it 
 is almost impossible that a horse should be offered for sale during 
 the time of their occurrence: they could not fail to be detected by 
 the merest tyro. The last-mentioned disease is evinced by a total 
 paralysis, generally of the hind parts; the others are either rapidly 
 fatal or speedily cured for the time being. None of them leave 
 any visible symptoms by which they can be detected, after they 
 have been once cured for the time; but if they are suspected or 
 known to have occurred, no prudent man would buy a horse 
 which had been so affected, as it is nearly certain that they will 
 return. 
 
 From the diseases of the brain, we come at once to those of that 
 most important organ, the eye. These are not capable of being 
 concealed from a scientific examiner, but they are not, by any 
 means, easily discovered by a novice; and we shall, therefore, give 
 full descriptions of their symptoms, and of the mode of examination 
 by which they are the most readily discovered. 
 
 The first is common inflammation of the eye, produced either by 
 the effects of cold or .by some external irritation, or the effect of a 
 blow. The lids, when the animal is affected with this form of the 
 disease, will be swelled, the eyes partially closed with weeping. 
 The inside of the lid will be red, some streaks of red will be visible 
 on the white of the eye, and the cornea will be dim. The health 
 of the horse is not affected; he feeds well and performs his work 
 as usual. This type of inflammation is easily cured in general by 
 cooling applications, low diet, and an occasional dose of physic; 
 but, as it is very apt to degenerate into, and even to be confounded 
 vdth, specific ophthalmia, or moon-blindness, which is, in its worst 
 state, total and incurable blindness, and, even in its less virulent 
 
24 
 
 forms, a most dangerous and troublesome affection, causing tbe 
 animal to start and shy violently from every object he may chance 
 to meet, the appearance of this disease, or any of the symptoms by 
 which its approach or previous existence are fhdicated, should be 
 at once a cause for rejecting the animal. 
 
 These symptoms are, according to Mr. Youatt, as given in his 
 valuable work on the horse, “ a slight thickening of the lids, or 
 puckering toward the inner corner of the eye; a difference in the 
 apparent size of the eyes; a cloudiness, although, perhaps, scarcely 
 perceptible, of the surface of the cornea, or more deely seated, or a 
 hazy circle around its edge; a gloominess of the eye generally and 
 dullness of the iris, or a minute, faint, dusky spot in the center, 
 with or without little fibers or hues diverging from it.” 
 
 When it is in its advancing or increased state, the eye is ex¬ 
 cessively sensitive, and can scarcely endure the light; the cornea 
 is considerably clouded; the aqueous humor loses its transpar¬ 
 ency ; even the iris changes its color, and the pupil is exceedingly 
 contracted. It is a singularly deceptive and fluctuating disease, 
 often remitting, so that the eye, to a casual observer and on a 
 slight examination, would appear entirely sound and unaffected, 
 this state enduring, perhaps, for six weeks or two months, when 
 either the same eye undergoes a relapse or the other is attacked; 
 when, after a series of repeated attacks and alterations from one 
 eye to the other, it terminates in total opacity of the lens, or its 
 capsule, in one or both eyes, and in perfect and irremediable 
 blindness. 
 
 This ailment is produced by various causes, among which may 
 be enumerated filthy, ill-ventilated stables, the ammoniacal 
 fumes proceeding from the ordure and urine accumulated in 
 which often affect the eyes, in the most fatal manner. Almost 
 equally detrimental to the eye is the darkness which prevails in 
 many stables, and which, alternating with the external glare when 
 the animal is brought out to work, dazzles and bewilders the 
 animal, and in process of time finally injures and irreparably 
 destroys the organ. 
 
 In addition to the actual, direct ill consequences of this disease, 
 it is doubly fatal, in that it is almost certainly hereditary, and that 
 a stallion, however admirably formed and in all other points how 
 
25 
 
 superior soever, if he be affected by this fatal defect, is almost 
 certain to transmit to his posterity weak eyes, if not total blind¬ 
 ness. There is no fact, says Youatt, better established than this. 
 
 “Opacity of the lens,” proceeds Mr. Youatt, “is another conse¬ 
 quence of inflammation. A white speck appears on the center 
 lens, which gradually spreads over it, and completely covers it. 
 It is generally so white and pearly as not to be mistaken; at 
 other t’mes more hazy, deceiving the inexperienced, and occasion¬ 
 ing doubt even in the mind of the professional man. We have 
 seen many instances in which the sight has been evidently affected, 
 or almost lost, and yet a different opinion has been given by very 
 fair judges. The eye must be exposed to the light, and yet under 
 the kind of shelter we have described, in order to discover the 
 defect.” 
 
 Another species of blindness, affecting the retina of the eye, is 
 that called, technically, gutta-serena, but commonly glass-eye. The 
 pupil is enormously dilated, immovable, bright, and glassy. This 
 is palsy of the optic nerve, or expansion of the retina, and is 
 usually produced by determination of blood to the head. It is 
 said, occasionally, to be a consequence of staggers. The seat of 
 disease is beyond the reach of the practitioner, and it is, in itself, 
 probably incurable. 
 
 We now pass to the mode of examination by which, and by 
 which alone, the above defects and diseases of the eye can be 
 detected, premising that, although there is no way by which a 
 dishonest dealer can conceal the evidences of blindness when they 
 are real and determined, yet there are many situations, as in the 
 alternating condition of moon-blindness, or the slighter form of 
 opacity of the lens, when he may talk a tyro out of whatever sus¬ 
 picion he may entertain relative to the eyes, and by throwing 
 obstacles in the way of a thorough investigation, palm off a blind 
 horse for a sound one. 
 
 In cases of incipient inflammation, where the principal, or only 
 symptoms, are the redness of the lids and a weeping condition of 
 the eye, a dealer will be furnished with an abundance of rea^y 
 excuses manufactured to account for the ailment as if it were of 
 casual occurrence. “A bit of hay got into his eye last night. 
 Sir,” is a frequent apology, according to Harry Hieover, in his 
 
26 
 
 clever little book, “How to Buy a Horse;” or, addressed to the 
 helper, “ ‘Bill, I knew you’d hit that horse’s eye when you were 
 brushing his head this morning—I told you so;’ after which fol¬ 
 lows, as a matter of course, ‘ It is of no consequence. Sir; it will 
 be well enough to-morrow.’ Now, it is of no use,” continues our 
 author, “ to argue with a horse-dealer, and you will gain little by 
 asking many questions; therefore, either make up your mind to 
 have nothing whatever to do with the animal, or else say you 
 will call and see him another day. And here I may as well say, 
 that a man who is a good judge of horse-flesh should always de¬ 
 termine not to pay the slightest attention to the encomiums which 
 every dealer will pass upon his stock. Let all his eloquence, if it 
 must be heard, make no more impression on your mind than do 
 the tunes which you are in the daily habit of hearing ground upon 
 all the organs in London. Form your own opinion of what you 
 see and feel, and let no persuasion tempt you to disbelieve the 
 evidences of your own senses. This by way of episode.” 
 
 When a horse is to be examined for defects in the eyes, he 
 should be led just within the stable-door, where there is not too 
 strong a light, but still sufficient to allow a perfect view of the 
 organ, without causing the pupil to contract. “Approach,” says 
 Hieover, “your finger gently toward each eye in succession, and 
 mark if the horse close his eyelid on your nearly touching the 
 eye; if so, it is clear that he is at least capable of distinguishing 
 your finger; but this is by no means sufficient to warrant a con¬ 
 clusion that he is sound.” 
 
 The examiner should now place himself in front of the horse, 
 and carefully examine if both pupils be of the same size, and 
 alike. If there be any difference, it is certain that there is a defect 
 in his sight. The form of the healthy pupil is a rather flattened 
 oval, and is or should be of a deep-blue color, bright and free 
 from specks. When it is of a milky hue, it is a sign that in¬ 
 flammation of the membrane is going on; and, of course, it is 
 unnecessary to add that no horse should ever be purchased with 
 this appearance of the eye. The next point to be observed is 
 whether there be any spots or specks on the pupil; where these 
 occur, whether they be dark or light colored, they are always 
 suspicious, and indicate defects and disease. The dark, irregular- 
 
2T 
 
 shaped blots are the results of previous disease, impede vision, and 
 render the horse unsafe to ride. Sometimes there may be a small 
 whitish spot on the surface of the membrane, which is generally 
 the result of an old blow, and if it be small and completely ex¬ 
 ternal, is seldom of serious consequence; i^ however, it be deeply 
 seated, it indicates that incurable disease of the lens known as 
 cataract. There is yet to be noticed moon-blindness, which, as it 
 produces no external change in the appearance of the eye, is the 
 most difficult of all to discover; it is, nevertheless, an incurable 
 disease, and renders a Horse both disagreeable and dangerous to 
 ride. It produces shying, timidity, an awkward, ill-assured gait, 
 like that of a purblind man, and causes the animal to appear to be 
 constantly on the look-out for objects at which to take alarm, 
 “If,” says the author we have previously quoted, “a horse, on 
 being led out of or into a livery yard where the entrance is lofty, 
 appear to stop and hesitate in passing the gate, and then go 
 through it with a sort of plunge; and if in the streets he stretch 
 his neck from side to side, poking his nose out, and seeming, like 
 a purblind man, to be endeavoring to make out the nature of 
 objects at a short distance before him, let your suspicions of the 
 state of his eye be immediately aroused, and be sure to have a 
 very sufficient trial before you become the purchaser of such an 
 animal.” 
 
 “ There is nothing,” says another competent authority, Mr. 
 Youatt, in his work on the horse, “ which deserves so much at¬ 
 tention from the purchaser of a horse as the perfect transparency 
 of the cornea over its whole surface. The eye should be examined 
 for this purpose, both in front and with the face of the examiner 
 close to the cheek of the horse, under and behind the eye. The 
 latter method of looking through the cornea is most satisfactory, 
 so far as the transparency of that part of the eye is concerned. 
 During this examination the horse should not be in the open air, 
 but in the stable, standing in the doorway and a little within the 
 door. If any small, faint, whitish lines appear to cross the cornea 
 or spread over any part of it, they are assuredly the remains of 
 previous inflammation; or although the center and bulk of the 
 cornea should be perfectly clear, yet if round the edge of it, 
 where it unites with the sclerotica, there should be a narrow 
 
28 
 
 ring or circle of haziness, the conclusion is equally true, but the 
 inflammation occurred at a more distant period. Whether, how¬ 
 ever, the inflammation has lately existed, or several weeks or 
 months have elapsed since it was subdued, there is every probabil¬ 
 ity that it will recur. There is one little caution to be added. 
 The cornea in its natural state is not only a beautifully transpar¬ 
 ent body, but it reflects even in proportion to its transparency 
 many of the rays which fall upon it; and if there be a white object 
 immediately before the eye, as a very light waistcoat, or much 
 display of white neckcloth, the reflection may puzzle an experi¬ 
 enced observer, and has misled the careless one. The coat should 
 be buttoned up and the white cravat carefully concealed.” Hieover 
 points out that this difficulty in the detection of this disease— 
 cataract—can be avoided by moving from side to side, and 
 watching if the supposed cataract follow the motions of the body, 
 which it will do if it be merely a reflection of hght from the dress 
 of the observer. 
 
 A yellowish hue of the cornea indicates disease of the liver; 
 and where this is observed in the eye, the lips should be turned 
 up and their internal structure examined. Where they are found 
 of a similar tinge, you will incur a great risk in buying the horse, 
 as these symptoms are sure proofs of internal disease, the extent 
 of which you are not capable of determining. 
 
 The annexed cut of the horse’s eye shows the situation of the 
 various coats, and the manner in which objects are viewed by the 
 animal: 
 
 A B, an object viewed by the animal; a h, its inverted image on 
 the retina. 
 
 c c, the points where the rays, having passed the cornea and 
 lens, converge by the refractive power of the lens. 
 
 d e, the rays proceeding from the extremity of the object to 
 the eye. 
 
 f, the cornea or homy and-ri’ansparent part of the eye covered 
 by the conjunctiva, uniting-the different parts together. 
 
 g, the crystalline lens behind the pupil, and in front of the 
 vitreous humor. 
 
 h h, muscles of the eye. 
 
 i, the optic nerve, or nerve of sight. 
 
29 
 
 h, the sclerotica covering the whole of the eye, except the por¬ 
 tion occupied by the cornea, and seeming a prolongation of the 
 covering of the optic nerve. 
 
 Z, the choroides, receptacle or covering, or choroid coat, covered 
 with a black secretion or paint. 
 
 m n, the iris or rainbow-colored circular membrane, under the 
 cornea, in front of the eye, and on which the color of the eye 
 depends. The duplicature behind is the uvea, from being colored 
 like a grape. The opening in the center is the puph. 
 
so 
 
 n n, the ciliary, hair-like processes. 
 
 o, the retina, or net-like expansion of the optic nerve, spread 
 over the whole choroides as far as the lens. 
 
 the vitreous, glass-like humor filling the whole cavity of the 
 eye behind the lens. 
 
 g, the aqueous, water-like humor filling the space between the 
 cornea and lens. ' 
 
 By aid of this sketch and explanation, it will be easy for any 
 intelligent person to follow the descriptions and explanations 
 given above. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 The Head: Its Defects and Diseases.—The Nostrils—The 
 
 Teeth. 
 
 After the eyes, the next part of the horse to be examined, is 
 the nostrils, which are the seat of one of the most dangerous and 
 terrible diseases to which the animal is liable—the “glanders,”—a 
 mere suspicion of which should absolutely deter a purchaser. In¬ 
 variably fatal in the end, the most contagious of all possible dis¬ 
 eases, communicable equally to the human being and the brute, 
 it is impossible to effect, and useless to attempt, a cure. To nego¬ 
 tiate the sale of a glandered horse is an actual crime, as his mere 
 presence in a stable will infect it with this worst of pestilences; 
 so that every animal brought into it will be almost necessarily a 
 victim, and that it is considered by persons of authority that the 
 only mode of effectually staying the plague is the destruction of 
 the edifice, and even of all the materials, as well as the clothing, 
 implements, and utensils, which it contained, or which may have 
 been used in contact with the patients. 
 
 With the history, cause, or remedies, vainly applied, of this dis¬ 
 ease we have nothing to do, but only to point out its symptoms, 
 the other ailments with which it may be confounded, the tricks 
 resorted to by dishonest dealers in order to relieve it, and the 
 means by which these latter may be discovered. 
 
 It is manifested by a thin, glairy, sticky, light-colored discharge 
 from the nostrils, or, if from one only, then, almost invariably from 
 the left nostril. M. Dupuy, the great French veterinarian, states 
 that out of eight hundred cases of glanders which he personally 
 examined, there was only one instance in which the right nostril 
 
32 
 
 alone was aflfected. It is distinguished from nasal gleet, which often 
 degenerates into it, and from the discharge of the common catarrhal 
 distemper, to both of which it bears much resemblance, by its being 
 thin,^ glairy, and having a “pecuhar, clammy, bird-limy feel” when 
 rubbed between the fingers,—which is, however, a dangerous 
 mode of testing it, and one which is by no means recommended to 
 our readers, since, if there chance to be a cut or abrasion into 
 which the matter is inoculated, fatal consequences often ensue. 
 This is a point to be observed in the early stages of the disorder; 
 at a later period, the discharge becomes purulent, and is often 
 stained with blood: it then becomes horribly ofiensive, is accom¬ 
 panied by swellings of the glands under*the jaw, on the side of 
 the head which is affected, and, if on both sides, then imme¬ 
 diately adherent to the jaw-bones, and not in the center of the 
 channel. The lining membrane of the nose assumes a dark purple 
 or lead-colored hue, and, at a later stage, becomes ulcerated. It 
 is a slow, insidious, frightful contagion, often remaining nearly 
 stationary, accompanied by none of the more aggravated symptoms, 
 until the expiration of two or three years, but is decidedly glan¬ 
 derous, and liable to be propagated during the whole time. It is 
 further distinguished from colt-distemper, or “strangles,” by being 
 unaccompanied by cough, which almost invariably attends the 
 former affection. 
 
 From nasal gleet, which in itself is a disorder on account of 
 which a purchaser should decline a horse, as it is troublesome of 
 cure, filthy, and distressing to the animal while it continues—and 
 .very hable to terminate in glanders—the disease may be known, 
 first, by its thin, light-colored, and sticky discharge, and afterward, 
 when the two discharges become nearly identical in appearance, 
 by the loathsome and unmistakable stench proceeding from the 
 nasal ulcers, and affecting the breath. 
 
 To discover this disease, if there be no continuous discharge—■ 
 and that symptom can be occasionally checked by the rascality of 
 dealers—pinch the nostrils together, so as to prevent the animal 
 from breathing for about a minute. On removing the hand, the 
 horse will snort; and, if he then blow out any thick, tenacious 
 mucus, especially if it be tinged or streaked with blood, and have 
 a fetid odor, the horse should be unquestionably declined. If one 
 
33 
 
 doubt the disease being glanders, and suspect merely strangles, or 
 a chronic discharge consequent on that ailment, the horse may be 
 revisited after the lapse of some weeks, when, if of no consequence, 
 it will have ceased entirely. If it remain, whether it be called 
 nasal gleet, chronic catarrhal discharge, or glanders, the horse 
 must be absolutely declined, at whatever sacrifice of price he may 
 be offered, and however otherwise superior an animal he may 
 appear. 
 
 “The tricks,” says Mr. Youatt, “to which some dealers resort 
 at fairs or markets, in order to conceal the' existence of glanders, 
 are most infamous, and should be visited with the severest penalty 
 of the law. Having given the horse a brushing gallop, that he may 
 thoroughly clear the nose, some of them blow powdered alum up 
 the nostrils a httle while before he is shown; others use white 
 vitriol, and although the horse may be sadly tortured—about which 
 they care nothing—the discharge is, for some hours, stayed. Oth¬ 
 ers roll up a pledget of tow, and introduce it into the nostrils, suf¬ 
 ficiently high to escape common observation. Both these tricks 
 may be discovered by the uneasiness of the animal, and his re¬ 
 peated efforts to sneeze, as well as by his general appearance; 
 and if the disease be far advanced, most assuredly by the red and 
 raw appearance of his nose, and by the stinking breath.” 
 
 The general appearance, alluded to above, consists in the almost 
 universal emaciation of the animal, the tucked-up belly, and un¬ 
 thrifty coat—liable to come out at the slightest touch. 
 
 The dreadful nature of this disease may be illustrated by the 
 following anecdote, which occurred at a small market-town in the 
 West Riding of Yorkshire, within the limits of the Bramham-Moor 
 Hunt. A Leeds clothier, of somewhat sporting propensities and 
 sporting character, and not a bad performer with fox-hounds, had 
 been out on a certain day distinguished in the morning by a flying 
 scent and a sharp burst with fox-hounds, and in the afternoon 
 marked by a cold mist, a slow, cold scent, and a long hunting run 
 which did not terminate until near dark, when the horses were 
 pretty well worn out and the riders also very tired. It so hap¬ 
 pened that the homeward route of the writer and that of the Leeds 
 clothier lay along the same road until they reached the well-known 
 town of Wetherby, whence the one had three miles to ride to hi# 
 
84 
 
 own snug home, the latter twelve to get through, with a weary 
 horse, to the busy manufacturing town of Leeds. The latter, there¬ 
 fore, announced his intention of making a halt at the Devonshire 
 Arms, to accommodate his jaded nag with a bucket of gruel, and 
 his own inner man with a bottom—as it is technically termed—of 
 brandy. The former, bidding him “ G-ood-night!” and ^'•Bon voy¬ 
 age!" went on his way rejoicing, and thought no more about the 
 matter. In a few days, however, passing that way, he missed the 
 cheery face of the old hostler, and learned on inquiry that he was 
 dead. He had been seized with a strange disease, which no one 
 could explain, with acute pain in the head, purulent, offensive dis¬ 
 charge from the nostrils, ulceration of the palate, and a speedy 
 disorganization of the whole system, rapidly followed by death. 
 Shortly afterward, it was whispered about that the Leeds clothier 
 was severely ill, dying, dead, with a disease of which the symp¬ 
 toms exactly coincided with those of the hostler. Next in the 
 tale, first one and then another of the horses at the Devonshire 
 Arms became glandered,—the whole stable was affected; and then, 
 at last, it came out that the showy bay horse, which had carried 
 the clothier so well, had been shot as irretrievably glandered, four 
 days after the death of his owner. 
 
 He had bought him, a great bargain, that is to say, at a price 
 which, alone, would have sufficed to show any man, of ordinary 
 intelligence in horse-flesh, that he must be irretrievably amiss, of 
 a traveling dealer, not many days before his debut and finale 
 with the Bramham-Moor Hunt. He had ridden him as described, 
 and while giving him his gruel, as he stood to leeward of him, 
 the horse had either merely breathed full into his face, or had 
 snorted some of the pestilential purulent discharge, so that it had 
 alighted on the mucous membrane of his lip or nostril. The hostler 
 had been in like manner affected, and the more rapidly that he 
 had stirred the gruel, while the horse was slabbering into it, with 
 his bare hand, which was, by accident, scratched in several places 
 and abraded. It was remembered afterward by the examining 
 surgeon that the right hand of the corpse was fearfully swollen, 
 and evidently filled with foul purulent matter. The diseased horse 
 had now finished up his gruel, and the remnant had been fed out 
 to the animals in the inn stable from the infected bucket, whence 
 
86 
 
 also it is probable that they might have been watered for several 
 days without any cleansing of the pestilential pail. 
 
 Thus, in this instance, were two human beings sacrificed to the 
 sordid rascality of a dealer, by the sale of an animal which he 
 must unquestionably have known to be incurably and most 
 dangerously infected. It is almost certain that some such palli¬ 
 ative check had been applied to the purulent discharge of the 
 nostrils as we have noticed above; and it is absolutely certain, 
 that had the purchaser been possessed of common sagacity, he 
 would have instantly been satisfied, by the mere offer of so 
 magnificent looking an animal, and so magnificent a performer as 
 he afterward proved to be, at a price so totally and absurdly in¬ 
 adequate as that at which it subsequently appeared that he be¬ 
 came the owner of him, that something must have been rotten in 
 the state of Venice. The slightest examination on the plan 
 described above would have revealed the infamous deceit, and 
 would ultimately, as it turned out, have saved two human lives, 
 and an incalculable loss in horse-fiesh. 
 
 The next point, after the nose and nostrils have been thor¬ 
 oughly examined, and found to be free from disease—for, if dis¬ 
 eased, the animal is, of course, rejected, and further examination 
 rendered useless—is the mouth, which will require a thorough 
 scrutiny, not so much on account of the ailments to which it or 
 the lips is liable, as in relation to the teeth, by which only can 
 that very important point in the economy of the horse, his age, 
 be accurately determined. The only affections to which these 
 parts are liable are those arising from wounds or abrasions of the 
 lips and the comers of the mouth, owing to the undue pressure or 
 severity of the bit, which sometimes, if neglected, degenerate into 
 cancerous or scirrhous sores. These are, of course, readily per¬ 
 ceptible, and it requires little skill or medical science to distin¬ 
 guish between a recent wound and an established sore of a 
 dangerous nature, and in a bad condition. Generally such hurts 
 are of but little consequence, as they are easily cured ; still they 
 are worthy of some consideration, as the}'- often indicate that 
 the animal is a strong-headed, hard-mouthed, boring, or star¬ 
 gazing beast, which cannot be managed without unusual appli¬ 
 ances in the shape of bits or undue exertion. Still, they should 
 
be regarded only as hints tending to create suspicion, and to 
 render desirable a thorough trial as to the habits of the animal, 
 in this respect, when mounted, since they are, more often than 
 otherwise, the consequences of the cruelty and awkwardness of 
 incapable servants. 
 
 There is a disease called the lampass, which is simply a swel¬ 
 ling—to which young horses, recently taken up from grass and 
 fed upon grain, are particularly liable—of the upper bars of the 
 palate, immediately behind the nippers of the upper jaw. When 
 in its worst stage, the bars are sometimes so much enlarged as to 
 reach the level, or even rise above the edges of the teeth, and, 
 as they are very sore, they interfere with a horse’s feeding, and 
 give him great uneasiness. They are, however, of no material 
 consequence, as they are easily removed by a slight scarification 
 with a gum-lancet or penknife, followed by the application of 
 some slight astringent, as salt and vinegar, and possibly, if there be 
 much fever, by a slight dose of medicine. Farmers of the old 
 school, in their brutal ignorance and folly, were wont to torture 
 the unhappy animals by burning out these local and casual 
 swellings with the actual cautery—a proceeding equally barbarous 
 and useless. 
 
 It may be well, however, while examining the mouth, to look 
 to the condition of the vein and artery of the palate, which run 
 on either side parallel to the jaw-bone, in a line with the middle 
 of the second incisor tooth. If this region of the mouth exhibit 
 the traces of many cicatrized wounds, it may be taken for 
 granted that the horse has been frequently attacked by megrims, 
 which is an all-sufficient reason for refusing to purchase him at 
 any price. 
 
 In regard to the teeth, we shall confine ourselves solely to a 
 description of the marks by which the age, up to eight or ten 
 years, may be pretty correctly ascertained, and to indicating the 
 tricks of dealers resorted to for the purpose of causing the ani¬ 
 mal to appear either older or younger than he really is, as well 
 as the ages at which these tricks are most frequently practiced, 
 and’most likely to be successful. 
 
 The anatomical changes of the mouth are of less immediate in¬ 
 terest, and may be left to professional and scientific hands. 
 
38 
 
 “ A horse at five years of age,” says Harry Hieover, in his 
 clever book, “ How to Buy a Horse,” “ has forty teeth, of which 
 twenty-four are grinders, situated far back in the jaw, and with 
 which we have little to do. The teeth of the colt are very 
 easily distinguished from those of the horse by their peculiar 
 whiteness and want of size. A colt, up to the age of three 
 years, has no permanent front teeth or nippers; but there are 
 marks, especially about the grinders, by which the difference of 
 age may be ascertained. Thus, the first grinder, on each side, 
 will be found a permanent tooth at two years of age, and the 
 general appearance of the colt, his size and development of mus¬ 
 cle, will distinguish him from a yearling. Moreover, the tail of 
 a yearling colt is curly and short in comparison to that of a two- 
 year-old, at which period the tail begins to grow straight, and the 
 coat loses the rough appearance which it has up to this time. 
 At three years of age the two center nippers will have given 
 way to the permanent teeth, which are larger and more yellow 
 than their predecessors. Thus, a colt at this period will have in 
 front of each jaw two permanent and two colt’s teeth. A year 
 later you will find that two more sucking teeth have been re¬ 
 placed by the permanent or horse’s teeth, and there will then be 
 consequently four of the latter and two of the former in front of 
 each jaw. The change begins to take place some months before 
 the age of four years, at which time the growth of the permanent 
 teeth is complete. At this period, the cunning dealer draws the 
 remaining colt’s teeth, and will pass off a mare as being full 
 five years old by bidding you remark that she has no colt’s teeth. 
 This trick may be resorted to with more or less success, even at 
 an earlier age, so as to give a two-year-old the appearance of a 
 three-year-old, and a three of a four-year-old—the value of the 
 animal being greatly enhanced by the gain of a year. The 
 principle on which it is founded is this, that the colt’s teeth are 
 naturally displaced only when the permanent teeth rise so high 
 in the jaw as to push them out. The rising teeth are, of course, 
 kept back by the superincumbent colt’s teeth, and when these 
 are removed, they grow more rapidly, and sooner come into 
 view. Upon a large, well-grown, forward colt a few months may 
 be gained in this manner, and a two-and-a-half passed off as a 
 
89 
 
 full three-year-old, and so forward. A keen observer will, how¬ 
 ever, see that the teeth, by this forcing process, although they 
 may be rendered more prominent, are still not of full size; and 
 further, that the development of the animal, especially his fore¬ 
 hand, has not kept pace with the indications of his mouth. 
 
 As the period between four and five years is that at which this 
 trick is most generally practiced, as being the period at which the 
 advantage of a year gained is the greatest to the purchaser, it 
 is well to point out that, if it be a mare, in which the triek is 
 most applicable, as she has no tushes, which pierce the jaw of the 
 male animal between the ages of four and five, and are conspic¬ 
 uous in the beginning of the fifth year, the points to observe are 
 the small degree of wear visible in the central pair of nippers, and 
 the small development of the comer pair, which will not, by any 
 forcing system, be brought fully up to the level of the other 
 nippers, until the mare shall be full five years old. In horses, the 
 total absence of the tushes, or their exceedingly small growth, 
 in case they have been—as they sometimes are—also brought 
 forward by deep and repeated lancing of the gums, will, in ad¬ 
 dition to the other signs mentioned above, satisfy an intelligent 
 examiner of the deceit which it has been endeavored to put upon 
 him. Further than this, it is well to know that—owing to the 
 circumstance of the upper jaw of a horse being rarely, if ever, 
 examined even by good judges—dealers do not in one case out 
 of twenty, even where fraud is intended, attempt to practice on 
 the teeth except in the lower jaw, so that a comparison of the 
 two jaws will show an upper jaw indicating one age, whether it 
 be three, four, or five; and the lower—which has been doctored 
 —giving an age advanced by one year. 
 
 At worst, however, the gain is but one of a few months, and 
 the loss of the purchaser lies only in the slightly enhanced price 
 he has paid for his purchase. 
 
 “ At four years and a half,” Hieover proceeds to say, and we 
 know no better or more perspicuous authority, “ the corner teeth 
 are found to have given way to the permanent nippers, which 
 are fully developed at the beginning of the fifth year; and the 
 tush, which pushes through the gum about the same period, and 
 which is situated a little posterior to the front teeth, is also at 
 
40 
 
 the same time nearly fully grown,” It is, it may be here ob- 
 eerved, with a view to anticipate by six months, or perhaps 
 more, if the colt on which it is practiced happen to be a very 
 early one of the season, very forward in size, and perhaps forced 
 into premature development, that the tricks last detailed are 
 chiefly put in practice. 
 
 “In each corner permanent tooth,” continues our author, “will 
 be remarked a deep depression, shelving away from the fore part 
 of the tooth to the gum posteriorly. Its color is black or nearly so, 
 and this is called the “mark” in a horse’s mouth. Before six years 
 of age, the tush is full grown, and has a slight groove on its inter¬ 
 nal surface, which gradually disappears with age, the tush itself 
 becoming more rounded and blunt; and at six, the mark in the 
 corner nipper no longer appears to dip down to the gum, but looks 
 like a hole made in the enamel of the tooth. This hole very nearly 
 disappears at the age of seven years, especially in the mare, but 
 the black mark still remains in the center of the tooth, and is not 
 totally filled up until the horse be full eight years old. At this 
 time he is said to be ‘aged,’ because, after this period, there are 
 no certain and infallible marks by which his age may be deter¬ 
 mined. Nevertheless, an acute observer will not be very much 
 mistaken in this particular for a year or two, even after all the 
 marks of the teeth are obliterated. It is absolutely impossible to 
 give with any degree of accuracy an account of those appearances 
 wliich lead a good judge of horse-flesh to make up his mind ^as to 
 the probable age of a horse after he has turned his eighth year, as 
 nothing but experience can give this acumen which to some men 
 comes much more naturally than to others. However, as far as 
 description may avail, I shall endeavor to point out those signs of 
 age which do not altogether depend on mark of mouth, and obser¬ 
 vation must do the rest. 
 
 “ In the first place, after the age of eight years, the teeth, on ac¬ 
 count of the shrinking of the gums, begin to appear elongated, and 
 this increase in their length augments yearly, together with other 
 constitutional signs, which, when present in a great degree, can 
 leave no doubt of the antiquity of their possessor. Of these I shall 
 speak presently. Many people insist that the marks in the nippers 
 of the upper jaw remain longer than in those of the lower, owing 
 
41 
 
 to the former being a fixed point upon which the latter is moved. 
 Of this I am not prepared to say any thing, as I have always sat¬ 
 isfied myself with the appearances I have already described, and 
 those I have stiU to mention. As the age of a horse increases, 
 the teeth, in addition to becoming longer, lose their upright posi¬ 
 tion and project forward, the upper teeth more particularly. They 
 assume, also, an arched form, and frequently become so prominent 
 as to bo much in advance of the teeth of the lower jaw. The ridges 
 in the soft palate also become nearly obliterated; the muscles 
 shrink, particularly about the jaws and neck; there is a deep pit 
 above either eye; the back becomes hollow; and the posterior lip 
 falls away from the jaw, or hangs much lower than its fellow. 
 Gray hairs begin to be found sprinkled here and there about the 
 dark-colored horse, especially about the face and often in the mane, 
 and the naturally gray horse becomes white. Added to this, there 
 is an expression about the countenance, which speaks of labor done 
 and by-gone years, which it is as impossible to mistake as it is to 
 describe. When all or most of these signs are combined in a 
 horse, I would say '•Rune tu cavetoT for a very old horse is a very 
 bad subject for speculation. Your trouble in endeavoring to put 
 him into condition will, with your corn, be quite thrown away; 
 and, perhaps, before you can get back your purchase-money, the 
 ravenous stomachs of a pack of fox-hounds will have afforded a 
 grave to the mortal remains of your venerable quadruped. 
 
 “ It is always necessary to examine the physical signs of age 
 generally in the horse, in addition to those furnished by the teeth; 
 for, of course, the appearances of youth adding considerably to his 
 value, have in some measure been imitated by the tricks of the 
 fraternity, and principally in the following way. When the marks 
 are obliterated from the teeth, they are, to some extent, repro¬ 
 duced by the aid of a graving instrument, and the rasp speedily 
 reduces their length. A hot iron is afterward introduced into the 
 hollow made in the comer teeth, in order to occasion a blackish 
 mark; but this is seldom effected in a natural manner, for the 
 mark is of a brownish hue, and, moreover, a ring of a lighter brown 
 encircling it is occasioned by the heat of the instrument employed. 
 This operation has received the name of ‘Bishoping,’ why, I 
 cannot say, unless their reverences are supposed to stand a good 
 
42 
 
 chance of becoming familiar with hot iron. Just before a bishoped* 
 horse is shown, it is usual to give him a few hard beans, the chew¬ 
 ing of wliich produces a deal of saliva, which prevents, in some 
 instances, the detection of the imposition that has been practiced. 
 
 “ In addition to this, a very small incision is made in the skin 
 of the pit above the eye, and a blow-pipe being introduced, the 
 cellular membrane is inflated until the hollows nearly disappear, 
 after which the skin is pinched, or some adhesive matter placed on 
 the incised part, to prevent the escape of the air. 
 
 “ When a low dealer cannot get at the tools needful for these 
 artiflces, or is not expert in their use, the most common trick 
 played is the following. He stands by the horse in his stall, takes 
 hold of his mouth, and then with one hand immediately strikes him 
 on the lips. • This causes the horse to jerk up his head, and the 
 manoeuvre is repeated until he will not allow his mouth to be 
 touched. If, by coaxing and gentle treatment, you prevail on the 
 horse to let you handle his head, a menace of the whip, scarcely 
 perceived by you, sets the horse dancing immediately, for every 
 dealer’s horse is quite as well acquainted with the nature of a thong 
 as the whip-maker who manufactured it. The dealer’s man, at last 
 seeing you bent on examining the mouth, succeeds in laying hold 
 of the nose with one hand, and with the other pretending to coax 
 him and get his head down, slips the tip of his finger into the 
 horse’s eye, just as you are about to commence your inspection, and 
 away goes the horse’s head into the air immediately. 
 
 “All this while, both the master and the man are assuring you, 
 wdth many oaths, that the horse is just six years old—for, be it 
 known, no dealer ever yet sold a horse of greater age—and at last, 
 perhaps, wearied out with your efforts, you are content to take their 
 word on the very slight chance of their telling the truth for once. 
 If, however, they acknowledge to seven years old, be assured the 
 horse is aged, and perhaps five or six years older than he is repre¬ 
 sented to be. You must, therefore, note the other signs of age 
 which I have enumerated; and I should strenuously advise you to 
 tell the dealer, quietly, that you will see the horse’s mouth, even if 
 
 * This name is derived from the name of an English body-snatching mis¬ 
 creant, Bishop, who used to sell the teeth of his murdered or exhumed coipsea 
 to dentists, for the refitting up of old mouths. 
 
44 
 
 it be necessary to apply the twitch for that purpose, and if he still 
 throws any objection in your way, say at once that if you cannot 
 inspect his teeth, he will not suit you. This wiU never fail to bring 
 your man to his senses, particularly when he sees that he has not 
 a flat to deal with.” 
 
 In addition to the above, we have only to say that as the knowl¬ 
 edge of the marks of a horse’s mouth, and a correct appreciation of 
 all its indications, so as to form an absolute decision of the animal’s 
 age if under seven years, and a tolerably close approximation to 
 it, if he be above that turning-point, are only attainable as the con¬ 
 sequences of long experience, and are rarely, in this country, at 
 least, possessed by amateur equestrians, the young and raw buyer 
 will find his gain in being accompanied by a friend, whether pro¬ 
 fessional or unprofessional, who is perfectly up to trap, and on the 
 honesty of whose opinion and counsel he can rely. If he know no 
 such person, then let him by all means take the opinion of a vet¬ 
 erinary surgeon, choosing one who, he is pretty well assured, has 
 no connection with his seller, and paying him liberally for his 
 opinion, be it what it may. And here we have done with the head 
 of the horse, how it should be formed, how set on, what is likely 
 to ail it, how the ailments can be detected, and what it indicates 
 in all the circumstances under which it has indications to afford. 
 
 Hence we proceed to the diseases of the neck, throat, and chest, 
 with which we shall conclude this part, reserving the trank and 
 locomotive system, on which almost aU the value of the animal may 
 be said to rest, to our second number, in the course of which we 
 hope to give such conclusive information as will put all our readers 
 sufficiently on their guard against all' the tricks and traps of the 
 trade. 
 
CHAPTER lY. 
 
 The Neck and its Diseases. 
 
 We have already spoken of the formation of the neck, which 
 is indispensable to a horse, to be used for purposes of pleasure, 
 whether for beauty or for the comfort of the owner who drives or 
 rides him. No horse can be a pleasant traveler, or can have what 
 is known as a good mouth, whose neck is not formed with such 
 a curvature as to allow the nose to come down and the chin to 
 come in toward the chest, under the influence of the bit; and it 
 is worthy of observation that this formation of the neck, which 
 causes the windpipe to assume the form of a concave arch, is 
 much more favorable to respiration than the converse, and that 
 horses so constituted are far less liable than others to those dis¬ 
 agreeable and dangerous diseases of the trachea, known to horse¬ 
 men under the kindred names of “piping,” “whistling,” “ grunt¬ 
 ing,” and “roaring,” which, although not so fatal as broken wind, 
 or, as it is here generally called, “ the heaves,” are yet extreme 
 drawbacks to the value of a horse, especially if he is to be ap¬ 
 plied to fast work, and should, in our opinion, cause liis instant 
 rejection. 
 
 In examining the neck of a horse, the first thing is to pass the 
 hand along the course of the principal vein, which runs along the 
 hollow parallel to the crest at about the lower third of the neck. 
 Puffy swellings along the course of the veins, and absorbent 
 vessels, are one of the symptoms of a farey, a disease nearly 
 identical with glanders, and often degenerating into it. Some¬ 
 times the vein will be found to be almost entirely obliterated 
 from inflammation consequent on constant bleedings, and this is, 
 
46 
 
 by many persons, considered a most serious evil. It is not so, 
 however, unless there be much pufl&ness above the spot at which 
 the vein appears to be obliterated, since, where that symptom does 
 not exist, it may be taken for granted that the neighboring and 
 anastomozing vessels have become sufficiently enlarged to carry 
 on the circulation. Still, the symptom is a bad one, as it indicates 
 that the horse has at some time been severely bled, as do also, in 
 a less degree, if they be found, the frequent marks of venesection, 
 even where the vein itself is in its natural condition; and, inas¬ 
 much as bleedings are resorted to chiefly for the treatment of 
 dangerous and acute inflammatory diseases, such as inflammation 
 of the lungs or of the bowels, which are particularly apt to recur, 
 and, indeed, to become almost chronic in animals which they 
 have once or twice attacked, it is not advisable to purchase a 
 horse showing by the marks described above that he has, at some 
 time or other, been subjected to frequent bleedings. 
 
 Having in this manner, and thus far, examined a horse 
 which one may think of buying, the next thing is to ascertain the 
 state of his wind, and of his breathing apparatus in general, 
 which is, in fact, of all others the most important point as regards 
 the utility of the horse—for, in fact, whatever may be the other 
 beauties, excellencies, or qualifications of a horse—figure, struc¬ 
 ture, action, legs, spirit, speed—if he have not wind, all the rest 
 are useless. He can neither go the pace, nor endure; he can 
 neither make sudden, nor sustain continuous exertions. Besides 
 this, affections of the wind are not only incurable, but they are con¬ 
 tinually growing worse and worse. On no possible account, for 
 no considerable amount of other good qualities, for no temptation 
 of cheapness, should any one be tempted into buying a horse 
 afflicted with any disease whatever, either of the lungs themselves 
 or the air-passages. 
 
 “ There are several complaints,” says the writer we have quoted 
 above, “ affecting the air-passages with which it is absolutely ne¬ 
 cessary to be acquainted before you attempt to buy a horse on 
 your own judgment. The principal of these are ‘ broken-wind,’ 
 ‘roaring,’ ‘whistling,’ and ‘piping,’ to which I shall take the 
 liberty of adding another, which I must denominate ‘ gulping,’ as 
 I know no other term by wliich I can better express it. I shall 
 
47 
 
 not attempt any explanation of this extraordinary trick, which has 
 never yet been noticed by any one, but have only to say that I 
 have met with two horses that, on being ridden fast, appeared 
 every now and then to give a sort of convulsive gulp, somewhat 
 approaching to a hiccough; and as neither of them was remark¬ 
 able for good wind, it is not impossible that this singular noise 
 may have been the precursor of some more serious evil. As I 
 neither purchased the one nor the other, I cannot say whether 
 they eventually turned out decidedly unsound in the wind; nor 
 should I like to hazard the experiment of buying a horse with 
 this habit, to call it by no worse name, at a sound price. 
 
 “ Dealers always judge of a horse’s wind by the sound of the 
 cough which they produce by pinching the windpipe, just behind 
 the jaw.” 
 
 It is for this reason that, although broken-wind is a complaint, 
 properly speaking, of the lungs and chest, not of the neck, throat, 
 or windpipe, we notice it in this place, rather than under the 
 head of ailments of the trunk to which it more properly belongs. 
 If a horse, when he is pinched in this place, utters one shrill, de¬ 
 finite cough, his wdnd may be presumed to be good; if, on the 
 contrary, the cough be short, hollow, rattling, easily provoked by 
 slight pressure on the windpipe and frequently repeated, he may 
 be set down at once as diseased or unsound in the lungs. With 
 respect to testing a horse in this manner, however, though it is 
 not a bad plan by which to commence your diagnosis, it is well 
 to say that the examiner should always be particular to cough the 
 horse, as it is termed, himself, and not trust the dealer to do it; 
 for these gentry have a trick, even in this simple operation, by 
 which the sound of the cough may be considerably altered, and 
 the imperfection made to appear much less than it really is. This 
 is done by forcibly compressing the windpipe with one hand and 
 the fore-finger of the other, by which it is contrived that the 
 horse shall cough, while the windpipe is kept in that state, and 
 the air, which is thus made to pass through a very narrow aper¬ 
 ture, makes the shrill noise, which is esteemed the sign of a 
 good wind. Tliis, however, is not always to be done, and a 
 broken-winded horse will, after all pressure is removed, continue 
 to cough short—much in the way that a sheep with unsound lungs 
 
48 
 
 may be heard to cough on a cold night—and thus make his dis¬ 
 ease clearly manifest. 
 
 We shall not in this place dwell on the further examination, 
 which is resorted to by good judges, in order to determine whether 
 a horse is broken-winded or not, since these apply either to 
 symptoms manifested by the animal, on being put to work, or to 
 indications given by the muscular movements of other parts than 
 the neck. 
 
 “Areally broken-winded horse,” says Harry Hieover, “will 
 generally make some noise like panting or blowing, when he is 
 ridden fast; but there are many horses that are slightly touched 
 in the wind that are perfectly competent to do a good deal of 
 work not requiring rapid motion. Mares that are broken-winded 
 are said to be barren; therefore take care in buying a brood-mare, 
 that her lungs be perfectly sound. When you have examined the 
 state of the wind, in the manner I have pointed out, you may 
 next proceed to determine whether your horse be a roarer, whist¬ 
 ler, or piper.” 
 
 We now proceed to give briefly from Touatt’s work on the horse 
 his account of these ailments. 
 
 “The larynx,” he says, “and upper part of the windpipe are 
 subject to various diseases. The flrst we shall mention is roaring, 
 so called from a peculiar sound uttered by the horse when briskly 
 trotted or galloped, particularly up hiU. In moderate exercise 
 it is scarcely or not at all perceived; but when the animal is in 
 brisk exercise, it may be heard at the distance of several yards. 
 It may be easily detected by striking the horse suddenly, or even 
 threatening him with a stick, when he wfll utter a singular grunt 
 or groan. 
 
 “ It usually is explained as the consequence of inflammation 
 of the part. A fluid, rapidly changing into a tough, viscid sub¬ 
 stance is thrown out, and adheres to the sides of the larynx and 
 upper part of the windpipe, materially obstructing the passage, 
 and sometimes running across it in bands. When the horse is 
 blown, or his breathing much hurried, the air whistles through 
 these obstructions. We believe this to be the most general cause 
 of the disease, and a roarer is evidently unsound, for he is incapa¬ 
 ble of the exertion which may not only bo occasionally but 
 
49 
 
 ordinarily required of him. Roaring,” he proceeds, “ is no un¬ 
 usual consequence of the strangles. A more frequent cause, 
 however, and generally unsuspected, is tight reining. There can 
 be no doubt that many more carriage-horses become roarers than 
 of those that are used for the saddle alone; and the explanation 
 of this at once presents itself in the continued and painful pres¬ 
 sure on these parts, caused by reining in the carriage-horse and 
 teaching him to bear himself well.” 
 
 "We confess, ourselves, to having great doubts as to the fact last 
 stated, and as to the causes alleged. It was observed by that 
 distinguished turf and sporting writer, “Nimrod,” that the affec¬ 
 tions known as roaring, whistling, wheezing, piping, &c., were all 
 new, or, at least, comparatively new to the farrier, and that their 
 very nomenclature is new in the stable vocabulary. He con¬ 
 siders the increase of these affections to be entirely consequent 
 on the increase of pace in galloping, rather than in any other 
 action, and in the hunting-field; and he asserts—and that in our 
 opinion quite correctly—that hunters are more subject to this 
 affection than any other class of horses. It is remarkable—and it 
 certainly tends to strengthen this opinion of Nimrod’s, that the 
 affection called roaring chiefly affects gallopers—that this dis¬ 
 ease and all its modifications—although we should not say that 
 American horses were by any means more free from diseases of 
 the wind proper than those of any other country—are far rarer 
 on this continent than in Europe, and, as far as we should judge, 
 more common in England. 
 
 The affection is clearly hereditary, and it is sufficient reason why 
 a good judge should decline to breed from any stallion that is 
 affected with this complaint, as he is almost sure to transmit it to 
 his posterity. It does not affect all horses equally, nor is it 
 equally dangerous or troublesome in all. "We have seen hunters 
 go very well, in good form and in a good place with hounds, 
 tlirough deep country, and having a heavy weight on their backs, 
 through a long and fast run, making all the wlule a roaring noise, 
 little inferior to that of a locomotive. We have seen at least 
 one race-horse, a confirmed roarer, run a constant and good 
 winner. 
 
 Such a horse was “ Humphrey Clinker,” the property of the old 
 
60 
 
 Lord Fitzwilliam, the grandfather of the present occupant of that 
 title, who was in his day—about 1830—the best four-mile horse in 
 England. He was well known in the North of England, and 
 with the sporting Yorkshire farmers was as great a favorite as was 
 “ Old Whitenose” here, on account of his indomitable pluck and 
 ability to stay a distance; yet he roared so prodigiously that he 
 might, literally, be heard half way across the Doncaster course. 
 Now, it is clear that in these instances the obstruction to the 
 passage of the air, however unpleasant or even painful to the 
 animal, was insufiBcient to affect his pace or his powers of en¬ 
 durance. On another occasion, we have seen a roarer, after going 
 a little way, particularly up hill, at his pace, brought to a dead 
 stand-still, and apparently on the point of choking to death. 
 
 Indisputably, it is an unsoundness of a bad order; it is incurable, 
 and a horse, warranted sound, can be returned on proof of his 
 being a roarer^ and his price is recoverable at law. 
 
 “Thick wind and broken wind,” Touatt proceeds, “exist in 
 various degrees and many shades of difference. Dealers and 
 horsemen generally have characterized them by names that can 
 boast no elegance, but are considerably expressive of the state 
 of the animal. Our readers should not be ignorant of them. 
 Some horses make a shrill noise when in quick action—these are 
 said to be Pipers. Tliis is a kind of roaring. There is usually 
 a ring of coagulated matter round the inside of the windpipe, 
 by which the cavity is materially diminished, and the sound pro¬ 
 duced in quick breathing must evidently be shriller. Sometimes 
 the piping is produced by a contraction of the small passages of 
 the lungs. 
 
 “The wheezer utters a sound not unlike that of an asthmatic 
 person when a little hurried. This is a kind of thick wind, and 
 is caused by the lodgment of some mucous fluid in the small 
 passages of the lungs. It frequently accompanies bronchitis. 
 Wheezing can be heard at all times, even when the horse is at rest in 
 his stable. Roaring is confined to the increased breathing of con¬ 
 siderable exertion. 
 
 “ The whistler utters a shriller sound than the wheezer, but only 
 when in exercise, and that of some continuance. A sudden 
 motion will not always produce it. It seems referable to some 
 
51 
 
 great contraction in the windpipe or larynx. The sound is a great 
 nuisance to the rider, and the whistler will speedily become dis¬ 
 tressed. A sharp gaUop up lull will speedily detect the whistler. 
 
 “ When the obstruction seems to be principally in the nose, the 
 horse loudly pufifs and blows, and the nostrils are dilated to the 
 utmost, while the flanks are apparently quiet. This animal is 
 said to be a high-blower. With all his apparent distress, he 
 often possesses great speed and endurance. The sound is un¬ 
 pleasant, but the lungs may be perfectly sound.” 
 
 It certainly would not be safe to trust to the meaning conveyed 
 in the last sense. The lungs of a horse, making such a noise, 
 may, it is quite true, be perfectly sound; but to say the least, the 
 chances are very much against it; and to buy a horse notoriously 
 making any of the abnormal noises in breathing, which are de¬ 
 scribed above, in the hope of liis proving sound, would be as 
 thorough a piece of folly as to buy a house or a ship known to be 
 affected with the dry rot, and to expect good service of it. 
 
 “ Every horse,” continues Mr. Youatt, “ violently exercised on 
 a full stomach, or when overloaded with fat, will grunt very much 
 like a hog. The pressure of the stomach on the lungs, or that of the 
 fat accumulated about the heart, will so much impede the breath¬ 
 ing, that the act of forcible expiration will be accompanied by 
 this kind of sound; but there are some horses who will always 
 utter it, if touched suddenly with the whip or spur. They are 
 called Grunters, and should be avoided. There is some altered 
 structure of the lungs which prevents them from suddenly ac¬ 
 commodating themselves to an unexpected demand for exertion. 
 It is the consequence of previous disease, and is frequently followed 
 by thick or broken wind, or roaring.” 
 
 We now come to the means for detecting these affections. 
 
 “For this purpose place the horse,” says Hieover, '‘against a 
 wall, or on one side of his stall, take hold of his bridle or head-stall 
 near his mouth, and hold his head high; then suddenly give him 
 a smart punch in the ribs with your doubled fist, or strike him 
 tliree or four times under the belly sharply with a stick, and if. he 
 gives a grunt at each blow, he is a roarer; whereas, if, after jump¬ 
 ing about from the blows he receives, you hear him sobbing, as 
 it were, and drawing his breath quickly, the chances are he is a 
 
62 
 
 piper or whistler. Some people use these two terms synonymously, 
 while others, again, employ them as denoting different degrees of 
 the same complaint, distinguished only by the peculiarity of the 
 noise made in each. I believe the sobbing horse to be the piper, 
 and suppose him to be worse than the horse which merely seems 
 to blow hard on going fast. Some horses have a trick of making 
 a noise with their nostrils, like a very loud purring, at every stroke 
 of their gallop. This must by no means be mistaken for whistling, 
 which merely resembles, but in a greater degree, the very hard 
 breathing of some people, who all but snore in their sleep, or who 
 have a violent cold in their head. Now, you will occasionally 
 find horses that, from ossification of the cartilages at the top of 
 the windpipe, arising possibly from this tube being constantly and 
 violently compressed by dealers essaying their wind, or from the 
 sensibility of these parts being greatly diminished, cannot be made 
 to cough at all. Some roarers are of this kind; and where you 
 find this to be the case, you must even trust to the other symp¬ 
 toms of unsound wind, and to a good, rattling gallop, where you 
 can get one, as a test of good or bad lungs. Roaring is not 
 always a disease of the lungs”—we are disposed to say that it 
 never is—“ but generally proceeds from some change in the struc¬ 
 ture of the windpipe, as distortions of that part, and constriction 
 of some portion of the tube from permanent thickening of the 
 lining membrane consequent upon inflammation. Hence, num¬ 
 bers of horses turn roarers after having had the influenza or dis¬ 
 temper, which has been so prevalent at certain seasons for some 
 years; and not a few are rendered such by restraining the head 
 by a tight bearing rein. Sometimes a horse that roars in a very 
 slight degree will not grunt on being struck, in which case you 
 may make a man gallop him smartly, and then pull him short up 
 close to you without giving him time to recover his wind; on 
 listening attentively you will soon be able to detect any impedi¬ 
 ment to his breathing freely. Some horses are said to have been 
 cured of roaring by keeping their heads constantly tied up very 
 high; but whether this be true or not, I will not pretend to say. 
 In a recent case of thickening of the lining membrane of the 
 windpipe, I can conceive that such a mode of treatment, by dis¬ 
 gorging the blood-vessels of the affected part, may be beneficial; 
 
53 
 
 but as I believe that no remedy whatever has yet been found 
 generally successful in this complaint, my advice is, never to pur¬ 
 chase a roarer in the hope of curing him. I have also heard of 
 horses on whom the operation of tracheotomy—which consists in 
 making an artificial opening into the windpipe—has obviated the 
 effects of roaring; but I believe these cases to be very rare, and 
 their good effects probably exaggerated, as most people are prone 
 to laud whatever is extraordinary. Besides, the very existence 
 of such an opening exposes the horse to the danger of inhaling 
 small and light substances, such as hay-seeds, dust, &c,, which, 
 by irritating the lungs, may occasion a disease worse than that for 
 which the operation was practiced.” 
 
 The operation of tracheotomy, as we have seen it performed, 
 and known it, in one or two instances, to be moderately success¬ 
 ful, differs entirely from that alluded to in the above quotation. 
 It does not consist in making a permanent opening in the wind¬ 
 pipe, but in opening it sufficiently to dissect and extract the 
 thickened part of the lining membrane which has produced a 
 stricture, and which is supposed to be the cause of the roaring. 
 
 After the excision of the membrane, the wound is closed as 
 usual. We have known, we say, one or two instances of this 
 kind successful; but the danger and expense are both consider¬ 
 able, the risk of not succeeding is more considerable yet; and, on 
 the whole, we should say that the only occasion on which we 
 should think of having recourse to it would be in case of happen¬ 
 ing to possess an animal of otherwise rare qualities, but rendered 
 nearly valueless by this defect, and desiring to endeavor, at least, 
 by any possible means to relieve and restore him. Even then we 
 should consider the odds as fifty to one at least against the tryer. 
 
 “ It may not be amiss here to mention,” says Hieover, and cer¬ 
 tainly it is one of the most curious and inexplicable of tricks, 
 “ that a low dealer who sends a roarer up to auction, where they 
 take them in on the morning of sale, will give him a quantity of 
 shot mixed with tallow, and this, extraordinary as it may appear, 
 and difficult as it is to account for physiologically, will prevent the 
 horse from showing the usual symptoms of roaring for some hours, 
 until the shot pass into the intestines.” 
 
 There is, of course, no mode of detecting this trick on the spot 
 
55 
 
 The only method is, if one buy at an auction, which is, at best, a 
 verj^ risky plan, never to buy unless on a guarantee of soundness 
 for twenty-four hours, the purchase-money to be held in the mean¬ 
 time by the auctioneer, and to be returned on the detection of 
 unsoundness, or on the unfavorable decision of a well-qualified 
 veterinary surgeon. 
 
 This will generally clinch the nail, in so far at least that a con¬ 
 scious rogue will decline to guarantee his beast, and that, there¬ 
 upon, you, if you be wise, will decline to purchase. 
 
 And this puts us in mind to add a precept, which we have 
 personally found useful, for the benefit of all amateur horse- 
 dealers—horse-dealers, we mean, who buy horses because they 
 want them for their own use, intending to work them, not to 
 make money of them by selling them again; and who sell horses 
 either because they do not exactly suit them for their own pur¬ 
 poses, or because they are, perhaps, more valuable than they 
 desire, or can afford to keep. This precept is, never to buy a 
 horse without a warranty, nor to sell one with a warranty. 
 
 Our reason is as follows: While the writer was an under¬ 
 graduate at Cambridge, he owned a magnificent blood bay hunter, 
 full sixteen hands high, with grand action, great beauty, a good 
 turn of speed, an undeniable fencer, and good to stay a distance. 
 He had won several hunter’s stakes, and two or three extem¬ 
 poraneous steeple-chases. He was as handsome as a picture, and 
 as sound as a bell—just six years old. But he had one fault, 
 and a bad one; and for tliis, and this only, he was sold. He was 
 an incorrigible shyer, would gallop up quite close to some ob¬ 
 noxious object, as straight as a dye and as quiet as a dog, with¬ 
 out pricking an ear, winking an eyelid, or showing the least 
 symptom of alarm, and then wWld whirl right round, as if upon 
 a pivot, and break away at a hard, tearing gallop, blind and mad 
 with terror—showing thereby that it was an old and incurable 
 radical fault, for which he had, at some time or other, been un¬ 
 mercifully punished. 
 
 Well, the horse was offered for sale at a big figure, was war¬ 
 ranted sound, but not free from vice or blemish; but trial being 
 allowed, the seller observed that he made it a practice never to 
 warrant free from vice, owing to persons differing so much as to 
 
 
56 
 
 what constitutes vice, and that as for a blemish, it is open to 
 every one to see whether a horse is blemished or not before he 
 buys him. After some ado, the bargain was struck, the horse 
 delivered, the money paid over. A week passed. The new 
 owner tried his horse in the hunting-field, was well carried, and 
 expressed himself charmed with the purchase. 
 
 On the eighth day the horse was brought back into the writer’s 
 stable, dead lame, with a veterinary surgeon’s written opinion that 
 he was affected with varicular joint disease of long standing, had 
 been lame when sold, and was decidedly returnable under the 
 warranty for unsoundness. 
 
 Now, the writer knew at once that there was a screw loose 
 somewhere; that the horse was perfectly sound when he was 
 sold, and had either been accidentally lamed since, or, what was 
 far more probable, had been intentionally lamed, in order to 
 create a reason for returning him,—the real reason being his 
 shying propensity. 
 
 On examination, the foot on which the horse flinched was ex¬ 
 cessively hot in the region of the hoof, the heat not extending 
 upward into the hair. On being tapped with the pincers, pain 
 was manifested, and the horse flinched badly at one point. Fur¬ 
 ther examination showed that the shoe had been removed since 
 the sale of the animal. It was again removed, and the trick 
 became at once transparent. One of the nail-heads was clinched 
 inside the shoe, without being driven into the horn, but into the 
 hole from which the old nail had been drawn; a ragged splinter 
 of pine wood had been barbarously driven up into the quick of 
 the unfortunate animal, and had, of course, absolutely lamed him. 
 It was taken for granted that the base and cruel fraud would not 
 be detected; that the animal would be received back as unsound, 
 and medically treated for varicular joint, or some other ordinary 
 or extraordinary foot-disease, in which case, by the way, there 
 can be little or no doubt that the animal would have become in¬ 
 curably lame, even if he had not fallen a victim to lock-jaw, 
 which frequently ensues as a consequence of punctured wounds 
 of that description, and that the dishonest purchaser, who could 
 not return the horse, as he would have desired to, on the plea of 
 being an incorrigible shyer, which he was, since he had not 
 
67 
 
 been waiTanted not to shy, but could return him, and recover, if 
 he could show him to be unsound. 
 
 The case went into court, and was easily determined against 
 the purchaser, and the verdict was accompanied with a severe 
 stricture on the cruelty and rascality of the procedure, which, it 
 is to be observed, was in this case the rascality, not of a dealer, but 
 of a would-be gentleman. 
 
 Perhaps, on the whole, persons who call themselves gentlemen 
 dealers are quite as much distinguished for their tricks and to be 
 dreaded for their traps, as the most tricky and suspected of pro¬ 
 fessionals. A well-known dealer, holding out at his own well- 
 known and established stand, has always a character of one kind 
 or other to maintain. If he be wise, it is a good one—for cer¬ 
 tainly he can make the more out of it—and if it be a good one, 
 he will be most likely to act up to it. For a horse-dealer’s rep¬ 
 utation for honesty is, at least, as ticklish a subject as a lady’s 
 virtue. If it be bad, of course one has nothing to do with him, 
 and there’s an end on’t. 
 
 On the whole, we believe it is safer, in spite of all the tricks 
 and traps, to buy of an established dealer with an honest face 
 and a tolerably good name, than of your dear friend Jenkins, 
 who is a perfect gentleman, and only sells because he has got 
 more than he can do with, and because he knows this one, in 
 particular, will exactly suit his dear friend Grreen’un. 
 
CHAPTER YI. 
 
 The Secret of Horse-Taming. 
 
 [As, very justly, no work professing to give an expose of the 
 tricks and traps of horse-dealers can be considered complete un¬ 
 less it take up the subject of “ Horse-Taming,” we clip the fol¬ 
 lowing excellent article from the Boston Gazette^ as one which, we 
 have not a doubt, Mr. Herbert, if living, would subscribe to as 
 covering the whole matter:— Ed. of Series.] 
 
 “The reports made recently of a Yankee’s success in England 
 in taming horses, at first view, would seem to be almost fabulous, 
 both as it respects the experiments he is said to have performed, 
 and, also, the vast amount of money made in teaching the ‘ se¬ 
 cret’ "We are told that Mr. Rarey has been patronized by the 
 Queen and nobility, and also that he has realized some two 
 hundred thousand dollars by his operations; such has been the 
 estimate placed upon his secret by the people of England and 
 Ireland. And, surely, that art must be valuable which commands 
 money in this manner. And hence we see the same art announced 
 here as a ‘great secret.’ And, to command attention, it is spoken 
 of as a new discovery, and for which somebody is indebted to the 
 Mexicans, among whom the secret is said to have been learned. 
 My own opinion is, however, that there is no real secret taught 
 by Mr. Rarey or any other person which the reader will not find 
 disclosed in these remarks. And the principal part of this secret 
 the writer has been in possession of for more than forty years, 
 having learned it from his own father in the back-woods of Rhode 
 Island. The feats performed by my father with one of his favor¬ 
 ite horses are among the most interesting memories of boyhood. 
 We lived in an old-fashioned farm-house, where the ‘latch-string’ 
 of the door was ‘ always out’ (there were no robbers there), and 
 
59 
 
 our ‘ gray pet’ was accustomed of his own accord to seize the 
 ‘ string’m his teeth, by which he would lift the latch and ‘ walk 
 in’ to the kitchen, where he was sure to be caressed and fed. 
 
 “ A writer in a late number of the ‘London Illustrated News’ is 
 delighted with Mr. Rarey’s secret, and lauds it as above all price; 
 and horse-fanciers throughout the United Kingdom seem to be in 
 ecstasies ! 
 
 “ It was to be expected, as a matter of course, that these re¬ 
 ports of Mr. Rarey’s success in England would revive attention 
 to this subject in this country; while pretensions, true and un¬ 
 true, will be put forth in respect to priority of discovery of the 
 whole or parts of the secret of horse-taming. And, as the writer 
 is not wholly indebted to any one person for all he knows on this 
 subject, no injustice can be done to other parties by these dis¬ 
 closures. 
 
 “ Some fifteen years ago I met with Mr. Ofiutt, the celebrated 
 horse-tamer of the South and West. He attended a course of 
 lectures I was then giving on Pathetism (the philosophy of 
 charming), and, witnessing my success in fascinating men, he 
 manifested a desire to be made acquainted with my art^ and so he 
 proposed to ‘ exchange’ secrets with me, to which I consented. 
 And this veteran horse-tamer was quite astonished when he found 
 that I could tell him beforehand in what his secret consisted! 
 He was so much pleased, that he at once gave me his Pamphlet of 
 Instruction for managing and training the horse. 
 
 “ I am aware that it may be claimed in favor of these extrava¬ 
 gant assumptions of a ‘great secret,’ that persons will, by such 
 assumptions, be induced to seek the useful knowledge which they 
 would never think of acquiring but for its being offered under the 
 guise of a ‘ secret.’ Were the art of training horses to be taught 
 the same as we teach English grammar, the subject would not be 
 appreciated. And, thus it is said, if a skillful physician were to 
 offer his drugs and his professional services gratis, they would 
 not be appreciated. Extravagant assumptions in respect to a 
 ‘ great secret,’ and a charge of ten or fifty dollars for teaching it, 
 make the vulgar stare, and put money in the pocket of the 
 teacher. ‘ Far brought and dear bought,’ attracts the ladies. 
 ‘Secrecy,’ a ‘great secret,’ and a large fee command attention. 
 
60 
 
 CHARACTERISTICS OF THE HORSE; 
 
 Or, what we might, perhaps, for the want of a better term, denom¬ 
 inate horseology. I say characteristics^ not because I purpose to 
 dilate upon those susceptibilities of the horse which are well known, 
 and which all parties are supposed sufficiently informed of to 
 know how to control them. These susceptibilities have rendered 
 him by far the greatest acquisition from the animal kingdom ever 
 achieved by the art and industry of man. No other animal con¬ 
 tributes so much to human convenience and pride, and no other 
 is so tractable^ and domesticated with so much ease and so little 
 danger. The traits which render him so useful being familiar to 
 all, it is only necessary here to call attention to one or two which 
 are not understood^ or which, if known, it is not known how to 
 control the horse through these susceptibilities, and in such cases 
 we say the animal is wild^ refractory, timid, or vicious. 
 
 “ The horse is unlike the dog, the bull, and most other quad¬ 
 rupeds in two respects, both of which peculiarities run into one 
 tendency. The horse has no weapons of defense, and hence is 
 more dependent than other animals on his sense of smell for his 
 protection. Indeed, it is scarcely known how very keen this sense 
 is in the horse, and how much he depends upon it always. In 
 one of the earhest allusions to the horse (Book of Job, xxxix. 19) 
 this trait in his nature is noticed when the writer speaks of ‘ the 
 terrible glory of his nostrils,'^ and declares that ‘ he smells the 
 battle afar off.’ 
 
 “ It is remarkable that, unlike other animals, the horse breathes 
 only through his nostrils, and not through the mouth hke the ox 
 and the dog. And this fact goes to confirm the views here given 
 as to the strength and importance of this function of smell, as if 
 the breath of the horse had been confined to the nose, in order to 
 keep ever active the sense of smell, which the horse needs, not 
 merely for the selection of his food, but also for calling into ex¬ 
 ercise his caution and combativeness, those functions upon which 
 his protection and life so very much depend. The horse is, there¬ 
 fore, excited, alarmed, and repelled through his sense of smell 
 more than through his sense of hearing, feeling, taste, or sight. 
 He is repelled through each of his senses at times, but always 
 
61 
 
 and most through his' sense of smell, no matter what the object 
 may bo by which he is frightened. 
 
 “ A knowledge of the peculiar function of smell in the horse 
 suggests at once what the philosophy of horse-taming must, of 
 course, include. For, if the horse is so much repelled and fright¬ 
 ened through the sense of smell, it is easy to see that he may be 
 equally attracted through the sense of smell, if we can only ap¬ 
 proach him with those substances which wUl sufficiently gratify 
 it. The scent by which he is attracted should be sufficiently strong 
 and agreeable to him to overcome the smell of all other objects, 
 animate or inanimate, which excite his fear, and are disagreeable 
 to him. 
 
 “It is said that each human being ‘has his price,’ and may be 
 bought or induced to do certain things. That is, all have certain 
 tastes^ certain senses^ and when these senses are gratified more or 
 less, we are more or less pleased. And so of all animals; they 
 may be infiuenced by addressing their strongest senses. And 
 when, as in the case of the horse, it is the sense of smell, and 
 that smell is very strong, we must find those scents that gratify 
 him most, and such as will thus absorb and annihilate all other 
 scents that are disagreeable. 
 
 to 
 
 MECHANICAL, MEDICINAL, PSYCHOLOGICAL. 
 
 “ I find each of these terms necessary in describing all that is 
 comprehended in the philosophy of taming and training the horse. 
 I say Mechanical and Medicinal as well as Psychological; and 
 hence it will be seen what a misapprehension it is when people 
 suppose that a wild horse can be controlled merely by human 
 volition. "When we are told that a wild horse is made to lie 
 down, it is thought by those not in the ‘ secret’ that this is done 
 by mere volition, or by a word or a motion of the hand. True, a 
 horse may be trained to lie down, to dance, and to do many things; 
 but what we now speak of is the process for getting control 
 over a vicious, refractory horse, so as to cause him to lie down. 
 The processes for catching and for causing a wild horse to lie 
 down are mechanical, medicinal, and then psychological. 
 
 “ The horse, like all animals, is controlled by memory and the 
 
laws of association. Hence he must be reached through one or 
 each of his external senses— smeU, sight, hearing, and feeling, and 
 when they are reached, he may be further controlled by mechani¬ 
 cal force, and especially by psychology and the laws of associa¬ 
 tion. 
 
 “ For the mechanical process you will need a strong leather 
 strap, three or four feet in length, with a buckle; also, a pole (a 
 fishing-rod)—the longer the better. On the end of the pole you 
 may wind and fasten a small slip of cloth. 
 
 “ For the medicinal you will need the oil of rhodium, oil of 
 cummin, or oil of anise-seed. These should be kept in air-tight 
 phials ready for use. Have also in readiness the horse castor, 
 grated fine. . . 
 
 “ That which partakes of the psychological you will find in your 
 own mind,—your own love, will, and wisdom. If you have little 
 or no instinctive love for the horse, of course you are not the 
 person to control him. Men and women are often found who are 
 said to have the natural gift of controlling the horse; they love 
 horses from instinct, as it were. The secret in these cases con¬ 
 sists in their intense love for the horse. If you love the horse, 
 you will, you can, but know how to make the horse love you. 
 Love, in all grades of animals, has its appropriate language; and 
 when this language is addressed to the horse, it excites love, of 
 course. A blow with a whip or a club does not come from love, 
 but from combativeness, and it excites combativeness or fear in 
 the horse. If you want to make a horse love you (and you must 
 cause him to love you if you control him), why, of course, you 
 must love him and treat him accordingly. 
 
 “ Study the character of your horse, not the nature of horses 
 in general, but of the horse you wish to control. Horses differ in 
 their dispositions as really as men do; and each one is to be ap¬ 
 proached, attracted, pleased, and controlled accordingly. The 
 organs in our way are Fear and Combativeness, and both these 
 functions are excited through the sense of smell. Observe that 
 the objects against which this sense of smell warns the horse 
 differ very much. One object or person may be offensive to one 
 horse, another object to another. And, the manner in which a 
 horse is affected by any person or object depends not upon any 
 
63 
 
 reasoning' faculty or volition in the horse, but, wholly, upon the 
 physiological and chemical qualities and quantities which com¬ 
 bine in making up his nature. But in a large majority of cases 
 it will be found that, whatever the object is (whether animate 
 or inanimate) which repels the horse, the excitement is induced 
 through the sense of smell. Through this sense fear is excited, 
 and tliis excites combativeness; and combativeness and fear 
 excited in a horse make him wild, refractory, and vicious. And 
 hence it follows that, if we can gratify this sense of smell, so as 
 to prevent the horse from taking cognizance of the natural ob¬ 
 jects of fear, we have thus, for the time being, thrown a charm 
 upon his senses whioh allays his fear, that he may be controlled. 
 
 TO CATCH A WILD HORSE. 
 
 “It is said we may ‘catch larks when the sky falls,’ or, when 
 we can ‘ put salt on their tailsso we can put the halter on the 
 wild horse when we shall have caught him. And many a farmer 
 knows how exhausting it has often been to his patience, in 
 chasing a wild horse about the fields, which from time to time he 
 has attempted in vain to catch. 
 
 “If your horse be in the field, he must be ‘cornered;’ drive 
 him into a yard into the corner where he cannot escape. Rub 
 your hands with the oil of cummin, or rhodium; have your pole, 
 with the small piece of cloth wound on the further end, which 
 must smell also of the oU. Approach him from the windward, 
 and you may thus attract him, even before he is within the reach 
 of your pole. Proceed, gently, until you can reach his back with 
 the end of your pole. It is precisely as if your arm were elon¬ 
 gated to the length of your pole; and you pat him and work and 
 move the pole over his back, gradually and gently approaching 
 Ills head. And, thus by passing the pole up and down his back, 
 and occasionally carrying the end near his nose, he is attracted 
 by the sense of smell, so that you may slowly shorten the dis¬ 
 tance between you and the horse, until you can with your hand 
 rub a httle of the oil of cummin or rhodium on his nose; and, 
 this done, you can with suitable assistance put on the bridle or 
 halter, and thus secure him. A failure for a few times should not 
 
64 
 
 discourage you—^repeat the process until you succeed. And, if 
 you fail with one of the oils, try another. With some horses you 
 may succeed best by mixing equal parts of the oil of rhodium 
 and anise-seed. A small quantity of the rhodium may be dropped 
 upon the grated castor, after it has been sprinkled upon an apple 
 or a lump of sugar, and given him to eat; and rubbing his nose 
 with either of these oils, and, at the same time, breathing into 
 his nostrils, will often work like a ‘ charm.’ But, then, it should 
 be borne in mind, that there is a difference in horses as really as 
 in human beings. Horses that have large caution or fear, it is, 
 of course, much more difficult to control. But the agreeable ex¬ 
 citement of the sense of smell overcomes the sense of fear, and 
 fear once subdued, it enables you to render your sphere agreeable 
 to the horse, so that you may compel him to do your bidding. 
 
 TO CAUSE THE HORSE TO LIE DOWN. 
 
 “ I speak of the untamed horse, of course. When a horse has 
 been once tamed as I have said, especially if he be docile and 
 tractable, he may be taught to lie down, to limp, or dance, &c., 
 by the laws of association. But a wild horse cannot be made 
 to lie down by a word or motion. Hence we have to resort to 
 the mechanism of which I have already spoken. It is well always 
 to rub his nose with the oil of cummin, and always have this 
 article in readiness with which to attract his sense of smell. To 
 cause him to he down, double his left fore-leg, and buckle it up 
 strongly with the strap before described. Now gently induce him 
 to walk, and you wiU find him on his knee or knees, when you 
 seize him by the neck and throw him over upon his side. When 
 thus ‘fioored,’ you have him very much in your power, and by 
 guarding his head, you may keep him quiet while you talk to 
 him, sit or stand upon him, or pass a wheel-barrow over his body. 
 
 “ The horse, unlike many other animals, seems to have a con¬ 
 sciousness of his subjugation when lying down, and unable to 
 rise. And this is the time for you to cultivate a thorough famil¬ 
 iarity with each of his senses, smell, sight, hearing, and fee lin g. 
 What the horse needs is to become thoroughly acquainted with you 
 —to be made to feel that there is nothing in your smell or per- 
 
65 
 
 son that he need to fear. Certain horses have more or less in¬ 
 stinctive fear of certain things—one of a buflfalo-skin, another of 
 certain sounds, as the beating of a drum, or the discharge of fire¬ 
 arms. Tincture the buffalo with the oil of cummin, and while 
 the horse is thus secure, you may make him perfectly familiar 
 with it, as it is through the sense of smell that the buffalo gene¬ 
 rally repels or frightens the horse. And then, while he is secure, 
 you can familiarize him with the sound of fire-arms or the snare- 
 drum, fire-crackers, or, indeed, any and all sounds, however fright¬ 
 ful. These experiments may in some cases have to be repeated, 
 but they will surely succeed, and, by their repetition, your horse 
 not only finds out that you love him, but also that you have ab¬ 
 solute control over him. And this power you are bound to have, 
 if you can ever catch your horse, and only once get him upon the 
 ground, in the manner here stated. 
 
 • 
 
 HORSE-TRAmNa. 
 
 “ Under this head we find a use for what I denominate the 
 Psychological part of our method. We find this noble animal so 
 docile, and so easy to learn the lessons set for him by the laws of 
 association to which we have referred, who can help loving lum ? 
 True it is that all horses are not tractable alike; but when we see 
 the extent to which man’s power over them may be carried, we 
 should be encouraged to persevere in the use of all humane and 
 appropriate means for subduing them to our control. 
 
 “We have been told, indeed, that the name horse (from hyrs- 
 ian, to obey) is from its iractableness. And this quality in his 
 character it is which renders him so useful, and so fitting an ob¬ 
 ject of man’s affectionate regard. I have been asked if I suppose 
 the horse to have a soul ? I answer, yes, certainly, the soul of a 
 horse, not the soul or reason of a man. The horse has Caution, or 
 Fear, Docility, and the three external senses. Feeling (of which 
 smell and taste are perhaps modifications). Hearing, and Sight. 
 He has, also. Combativeness and Memory. What seems to be an 
 approach to reason is, perhaps. Memory, and the laws of associa¬ 
 tion, which are alike powerful over animals and men. Thus a 
 horse frightened at a particular spot will be apt to start whenever 
 
66 
 
 passing the same place, all from the laws of association. Harsh 
 and cruel usage should, therefore, always be avoided. In cases 
 where a horse is refractory, vicious, or combative, no blow should 
 ever be used. And, to one who appreciates the nature and true 
 character of the horse, the sight is, indeed, painful, so often seen 
 in our streets, when a horse is pommeled with a war-club. 
 
 “ 1. Make your horse love you. Attract him by all means in 
 your power. How you should reach him through the sense of smell 
 (always when you fail in other methods) I have told you. The 
 nearer you get to him the better. I once heard the celebrated 
 Gatlin say that he had seen the little calves of the buffalo, on the 
 Western prairies, following the hunters after their dams had been 
 killed. To induce the calves to follow them, the hunters breath¬ 
 ed into their nostrils and fondled them. Thus with your person 
 scented with the Cummin oil, or rhodium, breathe into the nostrils 
 of your horse,—Pathetize him with your sphere; fondle (or, as the 
 Scotch would say, cuddle) him. Thus he becomes acquainted with 
 you; he associate's you with what he loves to smeU or eat, and 
 thus you gain your power over him. Do not be cross or cruel— 
 do not beat him, but caress, love him, fondle over him, and thus 
 cause your horse to love you 1 Love is the ‘ charm,’ the great 
 secret, if you will, and without it you can never control a vicious 
 horse. It must be in you, must come out of you, must appear in 
 your words, tones, and all your acting, if you wish the horse to 
 love you. There are many good-natured, kind people, who would 
 be glad to make their animals love them, but they lack wisdom; 
 they do not seem to appreciate those means which alone are ap¬ 
 propriate for securing this result. 
 
 “2. The necessity of method. The wisdom element is always 
 shown in the methods we adopt for the accomplishment of certain 
 ends. The manner in which we do our work shows how much 
 we know in respect to it. To succeed, therefore, in this work, 
 you should have rules well digested. A knowledge of the horse, 
 of his nature and natural habits, will be of great assistance. 
 
 “ The nature of the horse is never changed; this nature re¬ 
 mains the same as it always has been. But the character, the 
 disposition, and habits of the horse may be very much improved. 
 By adapting our means to the wants and susceptibilities of tho 
 
67 
 
 horse, we may improve his character, change his habits, allay his 
 fears, and subject him completely to our control. 
 
 “ Uniformity is necessary in our method. It is by the repeti¬ 
 tion, by the constant recurrence of certain motions, words or 
 actions, that we succeed. Many fail for the want of uniformity in 
 their method. They are loving and kind by spells; then they 
 are harsh and cruel. The horse is ‘ impressed,’ as it is said, with 
 his master’s wishes, when those wishes are often and uniformly 
 expressed in motions, words, and deeds 1 If man needs ‘ precept 
 upon precept, line upon line,’ &c., in order to learn his lessons well, 
 how much more true is (this of the horse, which is below man in 
 consciousness and the reflective faculties. 
 
 “In the foregoing details, I have laid down the principles and 
 the main processes for taming and training horses. Details are 
 omitted, as unnecessary in a newspaper article; but I have given 
 more information in these remarks than is often communicated for 
 the sum of from $10 to $500, as the ‘ Great Secret’ of taming 
 horses. But I am asked, if a horse, when thus subdued, can be 
 managed by any other person beside the one who tamed him ? 
 To this question I could not give a positive answer, either affirma¬ 
 tive or negative. As a general rule, a horse can be always 
 managed best by his tamer. It is similar with the canine race. 
 A dog obeys his master better than any other person, and similar 
 laws subdue and control the horse. Of course a horse will obey 
 that person best who subdues him, or who has the most to do with 
 him. And while there may be, now and then, a horse which can¬ 
 not be very well managed by strangers after having been thus 
 tamed, yet there is no horse but that may be more or less bene¬ 
 fited if subdued and managed in the manner here recommended. 
 
 “A. Y. D.” 
 
 Boston, May 12, 1858.” 
 
ADDITIONAL. 
 
 A writer in BdVs Lip in London gives the following statement 
 in relation to the manner of taming horses in 1825, which is iden¬ 
 tical with a part of Mr. Earey’s practice, and dates the art back to 
 a period before Mr. R. was born: 
 
 “ At Stainton-le-Yale, in Lincolnshire, there lived a large farmer 
 and horse-breeder of the name of Morris, at whose place what 
 I am about to relate occurred. In the same neighborhood resided 
 a notorious horse-breaker, named Bull. The following narration 
 of the facts was given me from an eye-witness, Mr. T. C. Johnson, 
 of Che vet, near Wakefield: Mr. J. had a vicious horse, and hav¬ 
 ing heard of the renowned BuU, he went to Stainton-le-Yale to 
 see the method adopted. On being shown into a large stable 
 without stalls, upon the straw lay two young horses, to all appear¬ 
 ance almost lifeless, while Bull was riding a third between and 
 around them, cracking a whip and making divers other noises; a 
 post was fixed in the middle of the stable, near which he rode 
 and dismounted. He then said: ‘Whereabouts will you have 
 this horse lie down V A spot was pointed out, and a little fresh 
 straw shaken under the horse, and giving the animal a slight tap 
 on the fore-legs, down he went. . The other two horses were each 
 respectively mounted, and went through the same process. While 
 the animals were standing. Bull threw himself against their quar¬ 
 ters, slipped backward over the tail, and favored the spectators 
 with various other such manoeuvres. After witnessing this per¬ 
 formance, and the quietness of the animals, Mr. J. said: ‘ What 
 am I to give you for the secret ?’ to which Bull replied ‘A sover- 
 reign’—money not being so plentiful as in these days of Rareyfying. 
 Eventually, however, the sum offered and accepted was 12s., 
 which Bull remarked he would invest in a gown for his ‘ old 
 woman.’ And now for the secret. First catch your horse, then 
 
69 
 
 strap the near fore-leg up round the arm of the animal, lead 
 him about on three legs until he becomes tired or weary; he 
 will then allow you to handle him anywhere; then attach a strap 
 with a ring to the off fore-fetlock; to this ring fasten another 
 strap, which being brought over the horse’s back to the near side, 
 is put through the ring on the off fore-fetlock; return the end of 
 the strap to the near side, keeping fast hold, and move the animal 
 on, and pull; he will then be thrown upon his knees, when, after 
 struggling some time, by gentle usage he will lie down. After 
 unloosing the straps again, put him through the same process as 
 before, when the horse will lie down whenever required. One 
 great superiority of Bull’s system was, that he rode the animals 
 about in a large stable while perfectly quiet, and so well mouthed 
 that they would either turn right or left, or even go backward 
 with every gentle pull of the bridle. He was at the same time 
 most kind and patient with them.” 
 
 Another evidence of the antiquity of horse-taming is found in 
 Mr. Gatlin’s published account of his travels among the North 
 American Indians. The manner in which the Indian achieves 
 the subjugation of the wild horses is thus described: 
 
 “ He coils his lasso on his arm, and gallops fearlessly into the 
 herd of wild horses and soon gets it over the neck of one of the 
 number, when he instantly dismounts so as to hold him down, 
 and prevent it from turning itself over on its back. By this 
 means he gradually advances, and he is able to place his hand 
 on the animal’s nose and over its eyes, and, at length, to breathe 
 into its nostrils, when it soon becomes docile and conquered; so 
 that he has little else to do than to remove the hobbles from its 
 feet, and to lead or ride it to the camp. The animal is so completely 
 conquered that it submits quietly ever after, and is led or rode 
 away with very little difficulty.” 
 
 The Philadelphia Bulletin says: “Some years ago, a man in 
 Philadelphia sold a small pamphlet, purporting to contain the great 
 secret of horse-charming. For the pamphlet he charged five 
 dollars, and, we believe, bound the purchaser to secrecy by an 
 oath. As we are informed, the secret consisted of bewildering 
 the animal in some way, by tying a buffalo-skin to his tail. Some¬ 
 body at some time may have tamed a wild horse by thus amazing 
 
ro 
 
 him, but it is very doubtful whether any of the methods depend¬ 
 ing upon nervous alarm for their success, are reliable. Neither 
 would we venture to guarantee the success of oil of rhodium-or 
 cummin—^upon any animal with a had cold in the head.'" 
 
 Mr. Rarey'’s Treatment. 
 
 The principles which underlie the whole art of horse-taming, as 
 practiced by Mr. Rarey, and, more or less, 'by various of his most 
 successful predecessors, may be stated thus: 
 
 That obedience to man is a ruling principle in the nature of the 
 horse; and therefore, to make him obey is not necessarily to do 
 violence to him. That disobedience is in fact forced upon him by 
 conduct toward him which does violence to his nature. 
 
 That to make him obey, it is only necessary to make him fully 
 comprehend what is required of him. 
 
 That he has originally no conception of his own strength or 
 powers; and. 
 
 That it is the part of wisdom to keep him in ignorance, which 
 can only be done by mastering him without force; that is, by 
 kindness. 
 
 That, in the horse, as well as in man, fear is the result of igno¬ 
 rance; and 
 
 ' That, therefore, it is only necessary to accustom him to any object 
 of which he may at first stand in ^ dread, to make him lose the 
 sense of fear. Farther, 
 
 That the best means of accomplishing this end is to allow him 
 to examine the dreaded object himself, and in the manner which is 
 most natural to him. 
 
 All which amounts to just this: that the horse is an intelligent 
 creature, and that the only way to develop fully all his powers of 
 usefulness to man is to treat him as such, and to convince him that 
 his master is also his superior and his best friend. 
 
QUIT CLAIM. 
 
 “ You've got tlie possession, you shall have the title.” 
 
THICKS AND TEAPS 
 
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CHAPTER L 
 
 The Ups and Downs op Chicago. 
 
 All hail, Chicago! paradise of mud ! 
 
 City of hlth, and stinks of all kinds, blent; 
 
 Where foul corruption pours a ceaseless flood; 
 
 Vice holds her court, and law to crime is bent; 
 
 Where midnight gutters run with rowdy blood ; 
 
 Where magistrates are to the bridewell sent; 
 
 Where speculators rob the grave for gains ; 
 
 Where Seiflert sleeps and Elongatus reigns ! 
 
 Thus sang Barde of Brydgeporte,” the venerable G. Whil- 
 likins! I may as well inform the ignorant reader that Bridge¬ 
 port is a collection of slaughter-houses, cattle-yards, stables, mud- 
 holes, rum-holes, groggeries, lager-beer shops, shanties, pigs, 
 chickens, Celts, Teutons, one-story houses, wolfish dogs, children, 
 cooper-shops, stump-tail cows, and hoop-poles, situated just with^ 
 out the incorporated area of Chicago, at the junction of the south 
 and west branches of the Chicago river, whose muddy water is 
 here elevated by a huge pumping machine into the Illinois and 
 Michigan Canal. 
 
 Though unknown to fame it is a spot of no little importance in 
 the world’s economy. It is here that the bulk of the Chicago 
 beef—famous even in the markets of the Old World—is slaughter¬ 
 ed and packed. It is here that some of the wealthiest citizens 
 of Chicago have amassed their riches, transmuting fiesh and blood 
 into gold. It is here, and in this vicinity, that, during the “ pack¬ 
 ing season,” may be seen the “cattle from a thousand hills” and 
 prairies, waiting in droves to be butchered. It is here that mud 
 and musquitoes do prevail in all their primeval glory. 
 
 For know, 0 uninformed reader, that Chicago, whatever it 
 
 1 * 
 
6 
 
 may be now, was once a mud-hoh. Where now rise gigantic 
 structures that rival in architectural magnificence the costly 
 edifices of older and greater cities, there stood only inferior 
 houses of wood, squatted, toad-like, in a marsh. In Lake, and 
 Eandolph, and Clark, and all the principal streets, where now it 
 is difficult to cross the stone pavement for the throng of vehicles 
 of every name and description, it was then, at certain seasons of 
 the year, even more difficult to pass on account of the unknown 
 depth of the mud. It was not tmusual, at that time, for the 
 stranger to be astonished by the discovery of a sign-board in the 
 street, conveying the ominous warning, “No bottom here!” An 
 incident is still remembered by “ old settlers” (every one who has 
 lived here a dozen years is considered an “old settler”) which 
 occurred in.those days to a farmer who came to town with a load 
 of grain. Turning from Lake-street into Clark, he espied a hat 
 on the road, and drove his team far out of the way toward the 
 opposite sidewalk, A pedestrian, whose dress received a splash 
 of mud, demanded in a rather peremptory tone the cause of such 
 a proceeding. “See there 1” said he with the produce, pointing 
 with his whip toward the hat; “neighbor Jones was right ahead 
 of me with a load of oats, and every thing is sunk in that ere 
 mud-hole, except his hat I” 
 
 The writer does not vouch for the correctness of the farmer’s 
 
 4 
 
 assertion, although he has seen, at a much later day, teams stuck 
 fast in Randolph-street, and unable to draw an empty wagon out 
 of the mud. 
 
 In the heart of the city these things have passed away; the 
 “high grade” has left the original “mud-sills” far below ground; 
 substantial pavement is succeeding primitive plank, and costly 
 temples of commerce are crowding out “ balloon frames,” which, 
 in an earlier day crowded out Pottowottomie wigwams. 
 
 The Pottowottomie’s “Place of the Wild Onion,”* is in its third 
 transition state. The first was from meadow to mud; the second, 
 
 * “ Chicago is a Frenchified Indian word, signifying “Place of the Wild 
 Onion.” Some have supposed it to be the Pottowottomie name for a skunk^ 
 which is an error, according to Schoolcraft, whom I have taken as author* 
 ity. Either interpretation is appropriate enough to the place, which, aftei 
 a warm rain, smells bad.”—G. Whillikms. 
 
-7 
 
 ' from mud to plank; the third, from the “low grade” to the 
 “high grade.” In its varied phases it is a type of Western pro¬ 
 gress—^turbulent, chaotic. Nothing rests—nothing can rest. To 
 one who looks down from the lofty observatory on the court- 
 hoase, the panorama of moving life and moving matter is one of 
 no common interest. Nothing but the firm earth and the solid 
 walls is still. Walls—even they are in motion—on the right, the 
 left, all around—moving upward. Whole blocks are rising from 
 their foundations, some to be carried away to new localities, 
 while, in the places where they stood, palaces are growing up out 
 of the ground. Hither and thither, onward, upward, every thing 
 and every body in motion, moving to the touch of Progress, build¬ 
 ing the foundations of the Future! 
 
 But these foundations are established upon a different grade 
 from those of the past; wherefore one of the most remarkable 
 features of this third transition state is presented by the “ ups and 
 downs of Chicago.” 
 
 What an absurd paradox 1 The ups and downs of a city builded 
 on the fiattest and levelest plain in America. Yes, reader, and 
 such ups and downs as no other city in America presents. 
 
 It was a favorite idea with the people of Chicago that the nat¬ 
 ural elevation of the ground, above the surface of the lake, was 
 sufficient to render a thorough system of drainage practicable. 
 But when the Board of Commissioners, created to carry out this 
 desirable object, came to make their surveys, such was found not 
 to be the case. To remedy the defect the first “high grade” was 
 established by an ordinance which remained in force one year. 
 During this year Lake-street was filled and paved, and a consider¬ 
 able number of permanent buildings were erected on this and 
 other streets. Again, it was found that the grade was too low 
 for the drainage of basements, and that, unless it was still further 
 raised, the city must do without these desirable conveniences, or 
 be content with damp cellars of only six or seven feet. The 
 property owners petitioned, and the grade was fixed at its present 
 altitude, an average of about ten feet above the natural surface 
 of the ground. 
 
 New buildings were of course erected “on the grade,” with 
 sidewalks in front of them, from which the pedestrian might 
 
8 
 
 almost look down into the next-door neighbor’s chimney-top. 
 Thus stairways, incline-planes, ladders, tackle and windlasses, 
 or some other hoisting apparatus, became necessary to accommo¬ 
 date pedestrians to the numerous “ups and downs” in Chicago 
 sidewalks. 
 
 Multitudinous are the mishaps which have occurred on account 
 of these ups and downs, and great is the amount of money which 
 the city has had to pay to repair damages. To strangers, in par¬ 
 ticular, who are unacquainted with the topography of the Garden 
 City (so called, I have reason to believe, in compliment to the in¬ 
 terpretation of its Indian name—“ Place of the Wild Onion”) they 
 are a source of no little danger, as well as annoyance. To a 
 strictly sober and temperate gentleman, absorbed, perhaps, in the 
 consideration of some momentous commercial interest, it is not 
 pleasant to be suddenly confronted in the way by a flight of stairs; 
 and to one who is not strictly sober and temperate, it is not agree¬ 
 able to be tumbled headlong down a flight of stairs or off a per¬ 
 pendicular precipice. Of the latter class of cases the fate of our 
 venerable Bridgeport friend furnishes a sad and instructive ex¬ 
 example : 
 
 The shades of night were falling fast 
 As through a street, called Randolph, passed 
 A youth, whose locks of early gray. 
 
 And countenance, did seem to say, 
 
 G. Whillikins! 
 
 As with grave mien and look sedate. 
 
 And slight impediment in gait., 
 
 He strode each lager-beer shop by, 
 
 From youthfhl brats escaped the cry, 
 
 G. Whillikins I 
 
 He heeded not, but onward pressed. 
 
 His mighty thoughts no word expressed. 
 
 Save when some change of grade before. 
 
 Brought him up standing ; then he swore, 
 
 G. Whillikins I 
 
 The night was dark, the mud was deep. 
 
 The uncertain walk was hard to keep. 
 
 And presently a splash was there— 
 
 A voice rang through the startled air, 
 
 G. Whillikins! 
 
0 
 
 Recumbent in a mud-hole lay 
 The youth with locks of early gray; 
 
 Above, a spectral gas-lamp shone, 
 
 And hrom his lips escaped a groan, 
 
 G. Whillikins ’ 
 
 There, the next morning, he was found. 
 
 Stretched at full length upon the ground , 
 
 And, pillowed there beneath his head. 
 
 An empty brandy-bottle said, 
 
 G Whillikins! 
 
 In seeking to avoid similar mishaps, the best course is not, 
 however, the one adopted by a respectable citizen of Buffalo, who 
 visited Chicago not long since. Starting out from his hotel to 
 visit the shop of a tradesman who owed him money, he proceeded 
 at a moderate pace along the sidewalk, his eyes downcast and his 
 thoughts not on the things to come. In this way he had walked 
 but a short distance when a collision took place. The toes of liis 
 boots came somewhat violently in contact with a flight of stairs. 
 Bewildered by the unexpected and somewhat painful occurrence, 
 he looked up. Before him rose the perpendicular wall of a five- 
 story building, with what appeared to be an outside stairway 
 leading to a lofty porch in front. Having a particular aversion to 
 lofty stairways, our Bufifalonian turned at right angles and crossed 
 to the other side of the street. 
 
 Again he proceeded, but at the distance of twenty rods was 
 again brought to a sudden stop. Apparently the walk came to 
 an abrupt termination. Before him was a solid stone wall, ten 
 feet high. He turned to the right—the^ame stonewall; to the 
 left—the walk led away in that direction—hemmed in on one 
 side by the \vall; on the other, by a row of wood tenements. 
 ■Without retracing his steps, or scaling the battlements—this was 
 the only route to take—our Bufifalonian took it. 
 
 Soon he found it necessary to pick his way with great care to 
 avoid the numerous abysses that yawned between the loose 
 planks. He could proceed but slowly. The walk seemed to grow 
 worse and worse. A long time—he could not tell how long— 
 had elapsed since his leaving the hotel. It was beginning to 
 grow dark. There were no lights in the row of wooden tene¬ 
 ments on the left; they did not appear to have doors or windows. 
 
10 
 
 The stone wall on the right was solid and opaque. He lifted his 
 optical organs toward the stars; the sky was roofed with two- 
 inch pine planks, not a foot from the top of his hat 1 He was in a 
 tunnel under the sidewalk 1 
 
 Where did it lead to ?—11—!— 
 
 The respectable citizen of Buffalo leaned his elbow against a 
 rock and reflected. Whether to proceed or to retrace his foot¬ 
 steps was the question which came up for consideration. The 
 tunnel would lead him he knew not whither; yet to go back 
 would be to take some other unknown, and perhaps worse route. 
 He had been told that all sidewalks were very much alike in 
 Chicago, He resolved to proceed. 
 
 There was a faint glimmer of light in the distance, indicating 
 an outlet somewhere in that direction. Toward this he directed his 
 course. A few paces further on, and that course suddenly took a dif¬ 
 ferent direction. In excavating for a sewer the workmen had left 
 a cistern imcovered, into which the respectable citizen of Buflalo 
 descended. It was about ten feet deep, with three or four feet 
 of liquified earth at the bottom. The yielding nature of this sub¬ 
 stance prevented the respectable citizen of Buflalo from sustaining 
 any serious personal damage. 
 
 Suddenly, the subterranean cavity resounded with the unearthly 
 cry of “Helpl” Then a hurried tramping of feet overhead, the 
 heavy blows of an axe, and a plank was removed from the side¬ 
 walk far up above, A rope was let down, which the unhappy 
 pedestrian seized, and thus was he drawn upward to light and 
 life, but not to liberty. He found himself in the hands of two 
 policemen, who took him to the calaboose and locked him up. 
 The next morning he was brought before the tribunal of police 
 and charged with having been “ drunk and disorderly.” Hot 
 being able to produce any witnesses who could prove the con¬ 
 trary, and the appearance of his dress being sorely against him, 
 the remarkable magistrate adjudged him to pay a fine and the 
 costs. It is believed that the victim of a prejudice against stair¬ 
 ways went home the same day, resolved never again to set foot 
 in Chicago. 
 
 Not many days after this sad occurrence a Buffalo newspaper 
 contained an anecdote which we have reason to believe had some 
 
11 
 
 not very remote reference to the same matter. Says the Bufifalo 
 editor— 
 
 “A friend of ours relates the following: Coming down Main- 
 street a day or two since he saw a respectable-looking man in 
 front of him, whose queer antics finally attracted not only his, but 
 the attention of the passers-by. He (the stranger) would walk 
 along as regularly as any body, when all of a sudden he would 
 lift up one foot, and then the other, planting them firmly down in 
 front of him, as if afflicted with double spring-halt, or as if he 
 was accustomed to every-day exercise on a dog-churn or tread¬ 
 mill. Then he would look around for a moment as if bewildered, 
 and then, apparently being unable to resist the inclination, he 
 would rush up a neighboring staircase and down again, with in¬ 
 conceivable rapidity, after which, he would walk along again 
 steadily for a short distance, when the whole performance would 
 be repeated. Our friend watched his performance for some time, 
 until, finally, his curiosity and compassion got the better of him, ' 
 and rushing up to the man and seizing him by the collar, he said: 
 ‘My dear sir, what the deuce is the matter with you? Are you 
 crazy ?’ ‘ No! not crazy, ’ said the man; ‘ only a little confounded; 
 
 the fact is, I’ve been two months trying to get the hang of your 
 streets, and am not yet quite perfect.’ ” 
 
 But the ups and do\vns of Chicago have their advantages as 
 well as disadvantages. Nothing is without its uses, and the uses 
 of stairways, incline-planes, and precipices in Chicago are not 
 limited solely to the accommodation of pedestrians. Their advan¬ 
 tages are felt and appreciated in other respects. 
 
 It is the remark of observant travelers that in no American 
 hity do the ladies present more divine charms of limb than those 
 6f Chicago. This fact is to be accounted for upon strictly scien¬ 
 tific principles, and is attributable directly to the ups and downs 
 of our sidewalks. It is a well-known fact in physiology that the 
 habitual exercise of any particular set of muscles tends to the de¬ 
 velopment of that particular paft of the human anatomy in which 
 they are situated. Thus, the blacksmith, by the •■long swinging 
 of his hammer, attains a wondrous development of arm; and the 
 professional danseuse, who nightly enraptures the rabble by pois¬ 
 ing herself upon the point of her great toe, attains a captivating 
 
12 
 
 development of calf. In this process of sustaining the weight of 
 the body upon the toes, which is done continually in traversing 
 the ups and downs of Chicago sidewalks, the gdstrocmeius, plan- 
 taris, and soleiis muscles, forming the calf of the leg, are brought 
 into powerful and almost exclusive exercise. The result is the har¬ 
 monious and beautiful development of that portion of the body. 
 
 It is likewise a well-known physiological fact, that upon the 
 degree of development of these muscles depends the elasticity of 
 step which lends to the female carriage its most fascinating grace. 
 Hence, reasoning from effect to cause, those skilled in such matters 
 pretend to decide upon the attributes of a lady’s beauty from 
 witnessing her style in surmounting a sidewalk stairway. I have 
 reason to suspect, however, that in many instances the decision 
 depends less upon scientific deductions than upon a quick eye in 
 detecting those seraphic charms which, on such occasions, the sex 
 so boldly and defiantly unveil. On almost any pleasant afternoon 
 a crowd of ardent admirers of female loveliness may be seen upon 
 some convenient street-corner discussing nonsense and insultingly 
 ogling ladies as they pass up or down the neighboring change of 
 grade. And if the personnel of the latter may be judged by the style 
 in which the feat is accomplished, so also do the former reveal their 
 true character by their remarks made on such occasions. The 
 gentleman is never seen in these gatherings, and if, perchance, any 
 of my lady readers in Chicago should mistake for one of this 
 class— 
 
 “That jewel’d mass of millinery, 
 
 That oil’d and curl’d Assyrian bull, 
 
 Smelling of musk and of insolence,” 
 
 who stands with his back against the wall, 
 
 “ Leisurely tapping a glossy boot,” 
 
 let them hereby be corrected. Certainly all such erroneous esti¬ 
 mate would vanish quickly enough should they overhear the re¬ 
 mark the fellow makes as they ascend the next stairway. There 
 is a wide difference between the gentleman and the fashionable 
 roue. We have shown these street curs up, let the public eye 
 mark them. 
 
 But the benefits of Chicago ups and downs are not limited to 
 
CORNER PUPPIES. 
 
 “ Aw, clianning I a regular Venus.” 
 
14 
 
 the improvement of the human anatomy. In a commercial point 
 of view, they serve to typify the sudden rises and falls in the 
 market, whereby operators on ’Change have taken strides to 
 wealth or tumbles to ruin. In a social view, they reflect the ab¬ 
 rupt life-gradations between Michigan-avenue and the Sands, Jef¬ 
 ferson Park and the Delta; even in affairs of the heart, their 
 usefulness is sometimes by no means unimportant, as the follow¬ 
 ing sketch will illustrate. The narrative is a strictly truthful one, 
 and the parties still reside in this city, all of them much happier 
 now than they were then. 
 
 The Lovers' Escape: A Terrific Tale of the Grade. 
 
 CHAPTER I.—LOW GRADE. 
 
 Just as Phoebus was driving his horses and chariot into old 
 Erebus’s boarding stable for the night; or in other words, as the 
 sun was disappearing below the western horizon, and the long 
 shadows on the landscape were merging in the general twilight, a 
 man might have been seen walking slowly along the sidewalk of 
 Clark-street. 
 
 The sight was not one calculated to create surprise, inasmuch 
 as a large number of men might have been seen a few minutes 
 # later walking in the same place. 
 
 The person, however, of whom we speak, had passed the me¬ 
 ridian of life, was of tall and extensive proportions, and wore a 
 hat on his head, while a thoughtful expression, and a pair of gray 
 whiskers might have been seen on the face which the hat over¬ 
 shadowed. 
 
 His eyes were gray 1— 11 
 
 As he walked slowly and thoughtfully along, a close observer, 
 by the aid of a spy-glass, might have discovered a slight move¬ 
 ment of his lips. He was muttering something to himself 1 1 
 What could it be ? ? ? 
 
 Presently he lifted up his eyes, which were gray, and beheld a 
 gate. He entered 1 A few paces brought him to the front door 
 of a house. 
 
 As the last faint glimmers of the setting sun disappeared from 
 the heavens, that man’s coat-tail disappeared through the door 1 
 
15 
 
 CHAPTER II.—UNEYEN GRADE. 
 
 A young and beautiful maiden was seated not far from an open 
 window, through which she gazed with curiosity and wonder 
 upon the surging throng of humanity which is supposed to flow 
 through Madison-street. 
 
 [To fully appreciate this supposition will require a powerful 
 effort of the imagination; inasmuch as, in its present condition, 
 nothing less than the eruption of a volcano could by any possi¬ 
 bility flow through Madison-street.] 
 
 We said she gazed with curiosity and wonder. She was curious 
 to know whether or not her lover was among the throng, and - 
 wondered if he intended to call upon her that evening. 
 
 Presently the door of the apartment opened 1 
 By this, the reader will please understand we intend to convey 
 the idea that somebody opened the door, and not that the door 
 opened itself. From tliis digression let us return to our story. 
 
 The man whose coat-tail ended our last chapter, stood before 
 her—“ In shape and gesture proudly eminent, stood like a tower 1 
 . . . . but his face deep scars of thunder had intrenched, and 
 
 care sat on his faded cheek; but under brows of dauntless cour¬ 
 age and considerate pride”—were those same gray eyes! ! 1 
 “ Daughter 1” he exclaimed, in a voice broken by emotion, yet 
 betraying inflexible determination of purpose. “Daughter! 1” 
 “What?!” 
 
 CHAPTER III.—CHANGE OP GRADE. 
 
 That night the maiden lay upon a restless pillow. That is, the 
 pillow may have been quiet enough, but the maiden’s heart was 
 ill at ease. Her thoughts were with her lover, and sleep kept 
 aloof from her eyes. She counted the long hours as they glided 
 away; she heard the distant clock (in the steeple of the Second 
 Presbyterian Church, Rev. R. W. Patterson, pastor,) toll the hour 
 of midnight; she listened till the sound of the last stroke died 
 away upon the still night air, and then she got up. Calling a 
 small African, who lodged in the basement, she put a letter into 
 his hand, and directed him to hasten with it to the lodgings of her 
 lover. When the small African was gone she selected some things 
 from her wardrobe and walked silently forth into the moonlight. 
 
ir> 
 
 All was hushed and quiet as the grave, save the barking of a 
 small dog over the way, and the tread of a distant footstep which 
 seemed hurriedly approaching. As the sound of that footstep fell 
 upon the maiden’s ear her heart leaped high with joy! 
 
 It was the footstep of her lover! 
 
 She recognized it by his style of going up and dovm the stair¬ 
 ways ! 11 
 
 Nearer and still nearer came the aforesaid footstep. The maiden 
 threw open wide the gate—one bound— 1— 1 !— ? 
 
 The lovers were clasped in each others arms I 
 
 Interesting tableau 1 ! 
 
 CHAPTER IV.—HIGH GRADE. 
 
 The stillness of night was fractured by the sound of the town- 
 dock striking the dreadful hour of one ! 
 
 Portentous sound! I 
 
 Emerging from the deep shadow of a house a man might have 
 been seen walking with rapid strides down the street. 
 
 In the opposite direction walked a mysterious looking person¬ 
 age in a plug hat! 
 
 One was the man with the coat-tail and gray whiskers; the 
 other was a policeman. 
 
 They met! I !! 
 
 It is not a usual thing to meet a polibeman in Chicago. 
 
 “ My friend,” said the former, “ you know not the feelings of a 
 father! My daughter, sir, is gone !— gone, sir I—yes, sir, eloped 1 
 —with a cussed scoundrel, sir. Sir, it was no longer ago than this 
 very night that I forbade my daughter to encourage the rascal—I 
 shall choke, sir—him, I swear—wring his neck, sir! I” 
 
 “ Which way did they go, sir ?” 
 
 “ How should I know, sir ? Where are your eyes, sir ?” 
 
 “ My eyes saw two persons on the street just now, and yours 
 may see them if your legs are fast enough.” 
 
 The unhappy father disappeared around the corner. The fugh 
 tives were before him, the policeman was behind. Heedless of 
 all else, he hastened to overtake them. Suddenly they descended 
 to a lower grade. Easter r^ the bereaved parent. The stairway 
 was gone I! I 
 
THE maiden’s last LEAP. 
 
 “ One bound!—they ■were in each other’s arms.” 
 
IS 
 
 “ Hold on 1” cried the policeman. 
 
 This chapter ends at the beginning of the book. 
 
 CHAPTER V.—THE GRADE SETTLED. 
 
 The disconsolate parent gathered himself up out of the mud. 
 
 His neck was not broke 1! 
 
 “ My friend,” he said to the policeman, “lend me your pistol I 
 1 have fought many duels in my days, but never did I know such 
 sweet revenge as that I’ll take of him who robbed me of my 
 daughter 1” 
 
 The lovers were not to be found 1 
 
 The last that was seen that night of the unhappy father, he was 
 standing with his back against a lamp-post, and the fore-finger of 
 his right hand resting on the trigger of the murderous weapon. 
 
 It was a fearful sight 1 I ! 
 
 Not far from one o’clock the same nigbt, his Reverence Bishop 
 O’Regan was aroused from slumber by a young couple who de¬ 
 manded, at that unseasonable hour, to be united in the holy bonds 
 of wedlock. The good bishop, finding that no legal impediment 
 was in the way, performed the ceremony, and the new-made hus¬ 
 band and wife went on their way rejoicing. 
 
 Reconciliation has since placed the youthful pair and the en¬ 
 raged parent upon the same grade. 
 
 It has been said on a previous page, that the geographical ups 
 and downs of Chicago are typical of its business as well as social 
 character. To such an extent is this true, that there is, perhaps, 
 no other city in the nation, not even, San Francisco, where men 
 have so suddenly risen from the low grade of poverty to the high 
 grade of wealth; or fallen, by some unlucky venture, from the 
 top back again to the bottom, and oftenest, in both cases, by a 
 process as unexpected by themselves as by any of those about 
 them. Numerous interesting instances might be cited to illustrate 
 what is here said; indeed, a volume the size of this would not 
 hold the half of them; but we must be content with giving a 
 single instance, for the truth of which we can vouch in every par- • 
 ticular: 
 
 A produce operator from Watertown, New York, watching the 
 
19 
 
 sigTis of the times, and arguing that when wheat was down to 
 sixty cents and com to thirty-five and forty, in Chicago, they 
 could not go much lower, came to this city and invested his 
 “ pile,” some thirty thousand dollars, all in “ stub-tail” com. 
 This corn is the Illinois growth of 1851, and is called “stub-tail” 
 because about one-third of it is rotten, fit for nothing but to make 
 whisky, and be converted, by its New York purchasers, into 
 “ lack-tail fiuid.” Our operator bought it at a very low figure, and 
 had it all put into one pile in a warehouse, where it was to wait 
 a “rise.” Several days elapsed and there was no inquiry for 
 “ stub-tail.” He played billiards, rode around the city, and occa¬ 
 sionally took a “nipper” by way of keeping his courage up. At 
 length he was informed that his com was heating. He examined 
 the pile and found it “hot as Hades.'’' His hopes went down 
 to the lowest grade in a twinkling; and supposing all was over 
 with him, he went off on a “ bender,” and for a month did not 
 know “ stub-tail” from green peas. At length he “ cooled off,” 
 and on examining his com again, found that it had cooled off also, 
 and was not damaged a whit. He looked at the market reports, 
 and found the price of com had so risen that he was enabled 
 without difficulty to sell his “ stub-tail” at a profit of eleven thovr 
 sand tight hundred dollars ! 
 
 To find a level in Chicago every thing must come up to the 
 “ high grade.” 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 Wats whereby Travelers are Caught. 
 
 The “ups and downs” of-Chicago furnish not the only traps into 
 which strangers are liable to fall. Every train upon its arrival in 
 Chicago is beset by a swarm of “ runners,” “baggage-smashers,” 
 hack-drivers, “scalpers,” and rascals of various other sorts who 
 ply their several callings in a manner to make Bedlam a quiet and 
 peaceable place by comparison. It is needless to say that the in¬ 
 nocent traveler , who places trust in the tender mercies of any of 
 these scamps, will have reason to repent his superabundant faith 
 in human nature. 
 
 Hotel-runners are now employed only by houses of a lower 
 class, and are more properly designated by the term “ emigrant- 
 runners.” All the better class of hotels have long since dispensed 
 with their services. They are stiU employed, however, by the 
 emigrant taverns and (would we were not obliged to say it) the 
 railroads. With the latter, their field of operations is now limited 
 exclusively to emigrants. 
 
 Closely allied to the runner is the “scalper,” who, however, is 
 not licensed, as is the former, but operates as an outlaw, clandes¬ 
 tinely. The “ scalper” is not, as his name might lead the unin¬ 
 itiated to suppose, one of those aboriginal inhabitants of this 
 country who were wont to abstract a piece of skin from the 
 cranium of their victims. He is a fellow who sneaks about the 
 railway stations and docks to decoy strangers into hackney 
 coaches, for the purpose of skinning. He is very frequently a 
 hack-driver who has had his license taken away for some act of 
 crime or rascality. He is always found operating in conjunction 
 with some hackman who has the disposition to steal, but is afraid 
 of being caught at it. Hence, his business is to dodge the officers, 
 as well as to pick up verdant strangers. For the latter service, 
 
21 
 
 he is entitled to a division of the profits with the hackman into 
 whose carriage he puts his customer. He is never in the service 
 of any particular hack; but, having picked up his customer, 
 usually puts him into the first one he meets, knowing that the 
 custom of his vocation will insure him his percentage of the 
 profits. 
 
 The traps whereby the “scalper” catches his victim are various. 
 Sometimes he pretends to be the agent of a hotel, sometimes of an 
 omnibus line, sometimes of a railroad. Like Mephistopheles, the 
 character in which he appears depends upon the character and 
 purpose of his victim. Does he meet Young Innocent at the depot 
 with an omnibus ticket purchased on the train, he kindly offers to 
 show him the ’bus; but, instead of doing so, conducts him to the 
 hackney-coach of his friend. The hack carries him to a hotel, where 
 the driver puts him down and demands his fare, frequently a sum 
 greater than the legal rate. Young Innocent presents the omnibus 
 ticket, which the hackman of course refuses, and threatens if he 
 does not pay to have him arrested. The threat is frequently car¬ 
 ried out, the hackman himself seizing his victim, and taking him 
 before some stupid or unscrupulous magistrate (of which there are 
 many in Chicago), who proceeds to render judgment against the 
 victim, and if not paid, with a smart bill of costs, issues a ca. sa. 
 for his commitment to jail. 
 
 This is one of the milder forms of “scalping,” as practiced by 
 these unprincipled rogues. When a “seed” of the right sort is 
 obtained, instead of a hotel, he is conveyed to some house of ill- 
 fame, wdiere he is “scalped”—completely skinned, more fre¬ 
 quently—by means of drugged liquor; or is driven to some ob¬ 
 scure locality, w'^here, after being robbed, he is left to find his way, 
 as best he can, back to more friendly society. An instance oc¬ 
 curred not long since, in which a very respectable lady, eighteen 
 years of age, en route from the East to friends in St. Louis, fell 
 into the hands of one of these scoundrels. She met him on her 
 arrival at tiie depot, where he represented himself to be acting as 
 agent for the Chicago and St. Louis Eailroad, and, by his repre¬ 
 sentations, was induced to give him her baggage checks and 
 fifteen dollars in money, to buy tickets for St. Louis. He then 
 left her for a short time, and soon returned with a carriage to 
 
22 
 
 convey her to a hotel, where she could remain until the train 
 started, or, “as he would advise,” until morning. At this she 
 took the alarm, declined acting upon his advice, and commenced 
 making efforts to recover her baggage and money. Suddenly the 
 pretended railroad agent was missing. The young lady proceeded 
 to lay the matter before the gentlemen in the depot office, who 
 engaged an officer, and succeeded, after much difficulty, in tracing 
 the lady’s baggage to a hotel of low character, where it was 
 ascertained the person who came with it had engaged a room for 
 “himself and wife.” The baggage was recovered, but the villain 
 escaped, taking with him the fifteen dollars which the lady had 
 given him to buy her passage ticket. 
 
 Very frequently in these cases the parties are victimized through 
 their own folly. It is not always among “ greenhorns” that these 
 sharpers find their dupes; but oftenest, perhaps, among a class 
 of strangers who are curious to “see the city;” for the city, be it 
 known, is not to be seen at a glance, except on the outside. Our 
 friend Allspice is one of these curiosity-loving individuals, yet he 
 is by no means a “ Johnny Raw.” ' Allspice is a lawyer. Although 
 his briefs may not be all spice, it would be easy, by quoting a 
 familiar maxim about brevity, to show that they are the very 
 “soul of wit.” Therefore, in the neighborhood where he lives, 
 Allspice is regarded as “a sharp” young man, in contradistin- 
 guishment, probably, from “a fiat.” 
 
 But, living in the country. Allspice is unused to city ways. In 
 his home village, near the Mississippi, there are no novelties or 
 marvels to awaken interest or excite imagination. There life 
 moves on ever in the same dull round, and the yesterdays and to¬ 
 days are marked by no event which will not occur again to-mor¬ 
 row. ‘There the people are all pious, the men honest, and the 
 women virtuous; and there are no hack-drivers to perform for 
 strangers the office of the righteous man, to whom it was said, “I 
 was a stranger, and ye took me in'' 
 
 Allspice came to Chicago, It was his first visit since the 
 “metropolis of the northwest” had grown out of its swaddling 
 clothes, and he felt a yearning in his heart (or in that neighbor¬ 
 hood) to see how all parts of a great city looked. So he stepped 
 out of his hotel, walked along the pavement, and gazed up at the 
 
23 
 
 tall buildings over the way. Presently Allspice met a hackman, 
 who, with the intuitive perception for which all rascals are remark¬ 
 able, discovered and weighed the character, caliber, locality, and, 
 for aught we know, biography of our hero, at a glance. “ Have 
 a carriage ?” modestly inquired the hack-driver. Allspice said he 
 would, and getting into the vehicle, requested Jehu to drive about 
 the city for an hour or two. The carriage rolled away. Our 
 friend gazed through the open window upon long rows of stately 
 buildings, wherein trade and enterprise were busy, preparing the 
 way for longer and statelier rows beyond. These were passed, 
 and then came into view humbler and more primitive tenements, 
 not a few of which once occupied the sites of their more ambitious 
 successors. And then still humbler tenements—mere sheds, some 
 of them—which it seemed a single blast of wind might sweep from 
 their sandy foundations. The carriage stopped, and the driver, 
 dismounting, opened the door. He proceeded to inform Mr. 
 Allspice that he could remain in the carriage while he watered 
 his horses, or, if he desired to see some of the fancy inhabitants 
 of the locality, he could dismount. Allspice said the latter would 
 please him best, provided there was no danger. Being assured 
 that there was no danger he dismounted, purchased a cigar, and 
 proceeded to the investigation of the mysteries of that . noted lo¬ 
 cality called the Sands. 
 
 In the first house he entered a woman approached him very 
 affectionately, and invited him to treat The bewitching tongue 
 of the fascinating creature, assisted somewhat by Allspice’s native 
 gallantry, prevailed. He ordered a bottle of wine. The fascina¬ 
 ting creature and himself drank it—at least, so he supposes. 
 
 What transpired afterward our friend found it difficult to relate, 
 such were the potent effects of the drugged liquor. He remem¬ 
 bers quite distinctly, however, that he paid five dollars for the 
 wine, and six dollars to the hackman for getting him into the 
 scrape. What further service the fellow performed for him he 
 does not know; but he remembers that he was arrested and taken 
 before a North Division magistrate, who gave judgment against 
 him, in the hackman’s favor, for four dollars damages and seven 
 dollars costs. About this time he began to come to his senses, 
 and discovered that all his money was gone. He informed the 
 
24 
 
 court that he was a lawyer, and requested permission to make a 
 statement in regard to the case. The court declined to grant the 
 request. Allspice began to get mad, and the hackman volunteering 
 some statement with reference to his claim for services, he threat¬ 
 ened to knock him on the head with his cane. Por this the court 
 fined him five dollars and costs, for assault and battery. He 
 remonstrated with the court upon the injustice of such a proceed¬ 
 ing, and finding argument of no avail, intimated that he would 
 kick the court down stairs. Por this the court fined him five dol¬ 
 lars and costs, for contempt, and ordered him to be committed 
 until the several fines and judgments were paid. Having not a 
 cent left. Allspice was given into the custody of an officer, who 
 departed with him for the jail. On the way, Allspice succeeded 
 in moving the officer to compassion, and induced him to accept 
 Ms baggage and gold-headed cane as security for the amount of 
 his indebtedness, until he could find some friend who would lend 
 him the money. This he at length succeeded in doing, and bor¬ 
 rowed a sufficient sum to get himself out of the scrape and pay 
 his fare home, from which he expressed a determination never 
 again to depart without letting his maternal ancestor know that 
 he was out. 
 
 Editors are considered to be, usually, well posted in the rascali¬ 
 ties of the world—political editors, especially. Yet even persons 
 of this class do not enjoy immunity from the dangers which beset 
 unhappy humanity in the city. The editor of a newspaper, pub¬ 
 lished in one of the interior towns of Illinois, being in the city 
 some weeks ago, was desirous of acquainting himself with some 
 facts in city life, upon which he might write an interesting chapter 
 for his readers. In the course of his investigations he feU in com¬ 
 pany with a number of “jolly good fellows,” with whom he visited 
 various localities, and became acquainted with quite a number of 
 very interesting facts. Among the rest was the fact which dis¬ 
 closed itself, considerably to his astonishment, the next morning^ 
 when he awoke and found himself in bed in a strange room, in a 
 strange house, with his boots on I Upon making further investi¬ 
 gations, he discovered that his watch and money, which he was 
 conscious of having had the night previous, were among the 
 
THE LmiT PASSED, 
 Allspice gets macL 
 
26 
 
 things which he had not then. He went home; but the chapter 
 on life in Chicago did not appear. 
 
 A very common trick with hackmen and scalpers is for the 
 latter to play the part of a passenger, and “ rope in” upon the 
 unsuspecting stranger, whereby the latter is made to pay for both. 
 A successful game of this sort was played upon a commission 
 merchant of Joliet, who is reputed to be one of the shrewdest 
 business men in the state. The facts were brought out in court, 
 where Mr. Produce—still slightly under “ exhilirating influ¬ 
 ences”—told his story on the witness stand. 
 
 “Your honor. I’ll tell you how it was. I got into this fellow’s 
 hack, at the Illinois Central depot, very early in the morning. It 
 was before daylight. He drove me to a crib down on Clark-street, 
 where we got out and took several drinks. Then he drove to the 
 Bull’s Head and back again. I paid him flve dollars, lent him two 
 dollars, and he stole my overcoat. But, Judge, I don’t make any 
 charge about the two dollars or the overcoat.” 
 
 Accused. “ Didn’t you have to pay for your friend ?” 
 
 Witness. “ Priend! I didn’t have any friend 1 There was a 
 little, thick-set man, a confounded sight drunker than I was, who 
 roped in on me, but I didn’t know him. I’U tell you. Judge, how 
 it was. This hackman drove up to a crib on Clark-street, where 
 we had a good many drinks. Then I told him to drive out to the 
 Bull’s Head, There was a little, thick-set man who wanted to 
 rope in. I knew I could lick Mm, and so I let him go along. 
 When we got out to the Bull’s Head this hackman wanted me to 
 pay him five dollars. I told him I would pay three dollars then, 
 and two dollars more when we got back. We argued the question 
 a while, and finally I took out a ten-dollar bill and gave it to him. 
 He gave me back a five, which wasn’t worth shucks. Now, says 
 I to him, you’re a cussed scoundrel, but I wouldn’t refuse to lend 
 you two dollars for a minute. Well, says he, lend me two dollars, 
 and, by Jupiter 1 I lent it to him! He brought us back down 
 town, and I went to get my overcoat, and couldn’t find it. By 
 and by, a man who is teller in the Drover’s Bank saw this fellow 
 with my coat on, and my handkerchief sticking out of the pocket, 
 and says he, there’s your coat. Then this fellow pulled off the 
 coat, threw it down, and ran like a quarter-horse. A lot of men 
 
27 
 
 and police—about two hundred—chased him and caught him. 
 Now, says I to him, I want that two dollars. He tried to borrow 
 it, but none of them would lend, and then he pulled the money. 
 out of his pocket and paid me. Now, Judge, I don’t want you to 
 be hard on him—^you know, Mr. Hack-driver, I wouldn’t have 
 staid here to swear against you, but the police wouldn’t let me 
 go. Just be as easy on him as you can. Judge. I haven’t got 
 any thing against him; but, by thunder, he did steal ray coat 1” 
 
 The fraternity of hack-driving and scalfung scoundrels rely for 
 safety in their nefarious operations upon the fact that their victim 
 is a stranger, passing through the city, who cannot, or will not, 
 submit to the delay and expense it would require to prosecute 
 them. The consequence is, not one in ten of these cases is brought 
 to light. And even in those which do come to the knowledge of 
 the authorities, the chances are three to one that the prosecuting 
 witness cannot be got when the case comes to triaL The rascals 
 understand this, and know very well their chances of punishment 
 are not as one in twenty to their chances of escape. A few years 
 ago, a farmer named Ephraim Blanchard was robbed by one of 
 the most successful, as well as notorious, of these rogues, who, 
 under pretense of taking him to the house of a brother, drove to 
 a notorious house of ill-fame. The hackman was arrested, and 
 the money, some seventy dollars, was found concealed in his bed. 
 Blanchard, however, left; the city, and could not afterward be 
 found- Should this happen to meet his eye, he is requested Jo 
 send his address to the captain of police, Chicago. 
 
 It is a very rare thing that citizens are subjected to these out¬ 
 rages ; one reason for which may be, perhaps, the fact that respect¬ 
 able citizens seldom patronize hackmen. Their chief subsistence, 
 outside of what they manage to get, honestly and dishonestly, 
 from strangers, is drawn from the patrons and inmates of houses 
 of Dl-fame. There are, doubtless, among them some honest and 
 upright men, who sufler in reputation for the rascality of their 
 associates; and it is to be regretted that a line of demarkation 
 cannot be drawn, as well for the benefit of the public as for the 
 men who are making a living honestly in this business. But, 
 under the circumstances, we feel it to be our duty to advise stran¬ 
 gers to be waiy in trusting them. Above aU, do not trust your- 
 
28 
 
 self with the hackman who solicits jou to ride, or asks you if you 
 will “ have a carriage.” 
 
 At the end of this book, the reader will find a synopsis of the 
 ordinances of the city regulating hackmen, omnibusmen, porters, 
 etc., together with the rates of charges as established by law. With 
 this book in his possession, he may always know what is right 
 and legal in the premises. 
 
CHAPTER in. 
 
 Land Speculators. 
 
 Spbcttlatb, V . L To think philosophically; to meditate. 
 gpECULATOB, n. One who speculates.— Webster. 
 
 What a host of meditative philosophers doth Chicago coutainl 
 Veritable Isaac Newtons, every mother’s son them; for not one 
 Bees an apple fall to the ground without meditating upon the 
 property in the ground before tasting the golden fruit. As thus, 
 syllogistically: The earth is necessary for man’s support; there¬ 
 fore, without it can he not be supported; therefore, who possesseth 
 the earth hath the power to make men buy of him, or emigrate to 
 the moon! In that remote planet, the land is supposed to be of 
 inferior quality, and, beside, it is not yet brought into market; 
 therefore, the inducements to emigration are but small; therefore, 
 will men purchase of the earth; therefore, who owneth it may 
 grow rich. Profound meditative philosophers!—Astute specula¬ 
 tive logicians 1 
 
 The philosophy of speculation is a department of human knowl¬ 
 edge upon which we do not propose to enter, although a useful 
 and entertaining volume might unquestionably be written there¬ 
 upon. Our purpose at present is but to point out to the honest 
 emigrant, and to all who may wish to secure that much-desired 
 object, a home in the West, some of the principal tricks to which 
 land speculators resort for the purpose of obtaining their money 
 without giving a just equivalent therefor. Throughout the West, 
 land speculators are prosecuting their fraudulent schemes wher¬ 
 ever they can get a foothold. They waylay the actual settler as 
 the highwayman does the traveler, to rob him of his substance. 
 After toiling hard at the East, to lay up enough to get here and 
 secure a piece of land, the emigrant finds, on his arrival, that he 
 3 * 
 
so 
 
 must either settle far out on the prairie, where no timber or water 
 can be seen, or give the speculator an unreasonable price for a 
 better location. This, we say, he will often find to be the case, 
 and scarcely ever will he find it different, if he does not “know 
 the ropes,” in a new country. Let us suppose a case, which is 
 one of very frequent occurrence. Smith, from “’way deown 
 East,” having sold his “place,” comes with the proceeds thereof 
 to the West, where he has been told he can buy a farm twice the 
 size of that he sold, and have enough money left to furnish and 
 stock it in tip-top style, and put up first-class buildings into the 
 bargain. Bather extravagant representations these; but Smith 
 has heard from neighbor Jones, who has been there, that the 
 West is an extravagant country. One of his first impressions 
 upon reaching the new Canaan is that neighbor Jones was quite 
 right. He “puts up” at a village tavern—a village which appears 
 to be about the size of Pumpkinville, in his native county—and 
 finds his bill in the morning equal to the price of a week’s board 
 in Pumpkinville. He inquires of the landlord the name of the 
 village, intending to avoid it on his return. “ Village 1” exclaims 
 Boniface, thunder-struck at his guest’s ignorance; “This, sir, is 
 Metropolis City 1’' Je whillikinsT thinks Smith; “I don’t see 
 how it can stand two such names 1” 
 
 Should Smith’s curiosity be still unsatisfied in regard to Metrop¬ 
 olis City, he inquires the price of lots. Hereat the landlord’s 
 countenance brightens. Nothing can give him greater pleasure 
 than to point out some of the finest business and residence lots in 
 the city, which, as times are, can be had for a song. Whereupon 
 Smith is conducted through the rank grass, dreading rattlesnakes 
 at every step, some quarter of a mile into the prairie, when his 
 conductor, having reached a small stake, suddenly stops. “ Here, 
 now, are some splendid lots, which we are selling for actual im¬ 
 provement, you know, at twenty-five dollars a foot. Out yonder by 
 that tree,” pointing to a scrub oak, half a mile further off, “we are 
 gelling residence lots for ten dollars a foot.” Smith thinks if this 
 is what is called selling for a song, the tune it goes to don’t quite 
 suit him, and he declines to purchase. 
 
 But then—Metropolis City—it may not be a bad idea to get 
 a farm somewhere in the vicinity of so prophetic a name. Of 
 
A QUIET LOCATION. 
 
 “ Out yonder by that tree we're selling residence lots at $10 a /bot.’* 
 
 3 
 
32 
 
 course, such are Smith’s thoughts, as his eyes wander over the 
 vast expanse of prairie, upon which no human habitation is visible, 
 and no mark of improvement has been made. Of course, any 
 quantity of laud may be had, near by, at government price. He 
 ventures to ask the question. “Government land! Why, my 
 dear sir, there isn’t an acre of government land within a hundred 
 miles of here. All taken up these five years. But if you want a 
 tip-top farm, why, I know of one I could recommend, at ten dol¬ 
 lars an acre. It will double in a year; but—hard times—owner 
 must have money.” 
 
 Smith, Jones, Brown, Snooks—whatever your name may for¬ 
 tunately be —donH be a greenhorn. This man is a speculator; 
 every man in this embryo “metropolis” is, in the very nature of 
 things, a speculator, or the dupe of one. If you wish to find 
 vacant lands, it is of no use to ask any stranger, for there is not 
 one in a hundred (unless specially interested) who will not tell 
 you that there is no good land to be had at government price, even 
 while they know the contrary to be the fact. To ascertain the 
 truth in the matter, go to the land-office of the district in which 
 you wish to locate, examine the plots, and when you have found 
 vacant land, get from the register a transcript of the survey of the 
 township in which it is situated. Printed forms are kept at every 
 land-office for this purpose. With this, if you cannot find the 
 tract you wish to examine, you can get a surveyor for a reasonable 
 compensation to find it for you. 
 
 There are land-agents in every town throughout the West, and 
 to one who is willing to give correct information for a reasonable 
 compensation, there are ten who will tell the new-comer, in most 
 positive terms, that there is no vacant land in the vicinity; that 
 land is rapidly rising in price, etc. This is one of the prominent 
 tricks in their trade. After they have, by such representations, 
 made the stranger despair of getting a home at all, they console 
 him with the information that they have a quarter-section which 
 they will sell on reasonable terms, and if they succeed in selling 
 it to him, they perhaps go directly and enter another quarter- 
 section or two, in the same vicinity, with the profits on the one 
 sold. 
 
 The writer knows a land-agent in one of the flourishing “ cities” 
 
83 
 
 of Minnesota, who sold forty acres of wild land to a young man 
 for three hundred and fifty dollars, and went directly and en¬ 
 tered a quarter-section adjoining the forty, thereby getting four 
 times as much land, and better land, too, for less money than the 
 sum of w'hich he robbed the ignorant and inexperienced purchaser. 
 In the same state, the writer knows the agent of a company of 
 eastern capitalists, who entered land to the amount of three or 
 four townships, picking out all the best sections and leaving the 
 poor ones to the actual settler, in case he should be lucky enough 
 to find them. 
 
 But let us come to speak of land speculators in Chicago, 
 which, in this respect, as in most others, is a type of the whole 
 West. It is a growing city; there cannot be a doubt of it. 
 Whoever questions the truth of this plain and simple proposition 
 has only to walk abroad in its crowded streets; to gaze upon the 
 palaces of brick, marble, and iron wdiich line them; to behold the 
 tide of trade which swells and dashes through them; to follow 
 the ripple of its waves, rolling out in every direction, far into the 
 horizon-bound prairie, and on his return to the “ center of busi¬ 
 ness,” to inquire the price of lots in those seemingly remote locali¬ 
 ties ; to look back, scarce half a life-time, and contrast the Potto- 
 wottomie wigwams which dotted the dreary plain with the nu¬ 
 merous institutions of learning, art, and science which have taken 
 root in our soil, and are spreading their branches to embower our 
 social structure, and then to reason for a moment, from the past 
 to the future, to dispel all doubts, and convince himself that 
 Chicago is a growing city. 
 
 But if, peradventure, he should require more proof, let him hire 
 a horse and wagon (a stout wagon will be required, and a horse 
 used to bad roads), and travel westward from the court-house just 
 seven miles. He will then have arrived at that portion of the city 
 which has been named, as we ascertain from a plot on file at the 
 Recorder’s Office, “ Peck’s Addition to Chicago.” It is an inter¬ 
 esting locality, and to one who delights to view the picturesque 
 in nature, will well repay a visit. Near it, on the west, rise the 
 lofty burr oaks of Oak Ridge, towering in majestic grandeur to the 
 height of twenty-five or thirty feet! At their base fiows ther 
 renowned and classic Eivibre aux Plaine, whose waters, swiftly 
 
u 
 
 gliding toward the Gulf of Mexico, move at the rate of at least 
 four miles a day, and bear on their placid bosom an emerald- 
 colored substance, called “frog-spawn,” while naiades, and mer¬ 
 maids, and a species of small perch are supposed to disport them¬ 
 selves beneath. - In all other directions from this interesting spot, 
 the sight rests upon a grand unbroken prairie-scape, where, during 
 the summer months, innumerable flowers reflect the smiles of 
 angels, and sanguinary gallinippers make music' in the tall grass I 
 It is such a scene as that which inspired the poet, when he ex¬ 
 claimed : 
 
 “ And this is freedom! These pure skies 
 Were never stained with village smoke; 
 
 The fragrant wind that through them hies, 
 
 Bears breath” which breathed is found no joke 1 
 
 But we will not dwell upon the many natural advantages which 
 “ Peck’s Addition” possesses for those blessed with rural tastes 
 and strong constitutions. Our purpose is only to acquaint the 
 unenlightened reader with the fact that such a delectable spot 
 exists, and is one of the many “additions” to Chicago, made by 
 speculators with a view to obtaining fancy prices for their land. 
 The certificate of the county judge, which appears upon the re¬ 
 corded plot, is as follows: 
 
 “ State of Illinois^ Cook County, ss.: I, Henry L. Eucker, county 
 judge and ex-officio justice of the peace in and for said county, do 
 hereby certify that Abraham Yoorhies, who is to me personally 
 known, this day appeared before me, and as the agent and attor¬ 
 ney in fact of Aaron Peck, proprietor of the lands designated on 
 this map or plat, acknowledged said map as the map or plat of 
 said Peck, and also that he had, as agent of said Peck, caused said 
 lands to be subdivided and platted as herein indicated. 
 
 “ Given under my hand and seal of office this third of November, 
 1856. “Heney L. Eucker.” 
 
 Now the “lands designated on this map or plat” are the south¬ 
 east quarter of section 32, township 40, north of range 13, and, as 
 the reader may see upon any sectional map of Illinois, are situated 
 seven miles west, and two or three miles north, of the city, in the 
 
35 
 
 town of Jefferson. The whole 160 acres is subdivided into lots 
 of twenty-five feet front by one hundred feet in depth, comprising 
 1,937 lots. Fourteen streets appear on the plat (not on the land), 
 which rejoice in the suggestive names of Fairview (on account of 
 the picturesque scenery), Galena, Dresden, Frankfort (“distance 
 lends enchantment”), Kossuth, Gold, etc. But the most surprising 
 fact connected with this matter is, that lots in this “addition,” 
 seven miles from Chicago, are selling in New York for ieji dollars 
 a front foot^ or $250 a lot. Equally good land in the same vicinity 
 .can be bought for fifty dollars an acre. Thus the total value of 
 this quarter-section is $8,000. But, as the lots have been sold, 
 the enterprising Mr. Peck, provided he can sell them all, will 
 realize the snug sum of $484,250. Upward of $125,000 worth of 
 these prairie lots have already been sold, as appears from the deeds 
 recorded in this city, which embraces only about one-fourth of the 
 “addition.” 
 
 But how, the reader may ask, is it possible that any one can be 
 so great a fool as to buy this property at a price so enormously 
 aljove its value ? The question we cannot answer. People in the 
 West do not buy it; only those of the East who have an abiding 
 faith in the honesty of mankind, and unwavering confidence in all 
 the bombastic statements they hear and read about the tremen¬ 
 dous destiny of Chicago, are green enough to be sold in the making 
 of such purchases. The enterprising Mr. Aaron Peck is under¬ 
 stood to be a resident of New Jersey, and, for aught that appears, 
 may be a lineal descendant of the ancient Pavonian land specu¬ 
 lator, Oloffe the Dreamer, whose dreams (as saith the veracious 
 Knickerbocker historian) turned the heads of the honest burghers 
 of Communipaw to the island of Manna-hata, and caused them to 
 purchase of the town lots, into which was divided so much land 
 as a bulbous-bottomed Dutchman could cover with his ten pairs 
 of breeches—which was the beginning of the present city of New 
 York. Having seen what glorious results came of the dreamings 
 of Oloffe, it is not, perhaps, to be wondered at that the honest 
 Knickerbockers should still have confidence in the speculating* 
 schemes of his descendant, insomuch that they pay him an hun¬ 
 dred-fold of its real worth for narrow strips of wild land seven 
 miles out of Chicago. Possibly they may believe that the city 
 
86 
 
 will one daj move thither, as the great metropolis moved from 
 Communipaw to Nieuw Amsterdam. 
 
 Stimulated by the success of the enterprising proprietor of 
 “Peck’s Addition,” other enterprising gentlemen, owning farms 
 in Cook County, have had them subdivided into lots and recorded 
 as “additions” to Chicago. Probably every foot of land that ad¬ 
 joins the city limits has been thus laid out; but this may be said 
 to approximate the nature, as well as the name, of “addition.” 
 We shall speak only of the “New Orleans” and “St. Paul” addi¬ 
 tions, as they are sometimes satirically called, on account of their 
 relative situations. 
 
 Price’s subdivision of the southwest quarter of section 26, town¬ 
 ship 38, range 13, contains about 2,000 lots. This desirable and 
 fertile portion of Chicago is ten miles from the city, in a south¬ 
 westerly direction, in the town of Lake. In this delectable spot 
 we find (on the map) the names of streets, suggesting more vari¬ 
 eties of timber than ever grew in Illinois. What cooling shade 
 might not the travel-tired emigrant find in such umbrageous 
 avenues as Maple, Elm, Locust, Poplar, Pine, Cherry, Cedar, 
 Walnut, Oak, were it not that a few scrub oaks constitute all the 
 timber that grows anywhere in the neighborhood? Lots 25 by 
 100 feet in this secluded spot are sold, whenever any one green 
 enough to purchase can be found, at about the same rate as in 
 Peck’s Addition. The land, at the market value, is worth not to 
 exceed $40 an acre. The number of lots that have been sold in 
 this subdivision is yet comparatively few. 
 
 “ Minnehaha Addition” consists of forty acres in the southeast 
 quarter of section 2, township 38, range 13. It contains ten 
 blocks, divided into lots 24 by 150 feet. The distance from 
 Chicago is about seven miles, and the land is worth about $50 or 
 $60 an acre. The lots, however, are held at from $200 to $300 
 each, at which a considerable number have been sold—an aggre¬ 
 gate of more than the value of the whole tract. What induce¬ 
 ments to purchasers are not here held out ?—where nature wreaths 
 her fiat, expressionless face in flowers, and even the lanes and 
 alleys of the budding city speak of glorious fruitfulness! Here we 
 have Strawberry-alley, Blackberry-alley, .ffuc/r^eberry-alley. May- 
 berry-alley, .Roseberry-alley, i)ei/;berry-alley. Plumpudding-alley I 
 
87 
 
 What a variety of plums in so very questionable a pudding I—as 
 those who seek here for the means of paying for the pudding will 
 surely find. 
 
 These “ additions” look well on paper —which, in truth, is the 
 only place where they do look well. They are gotten up to be 
 exhibited on paper, and sold on paper, like “fancies” in the stock- 
 market, solely for the purposes of speculation. 
 
 An excuse which the speculators might, perhaps, offer for these 
 fancy town-lot operations, is to be found in the fact that much of 
 the land in what is known as the Calumet region, eight or ten 
 miles south of the city, is worthless for any other purpose, being 
 covered, a great portion of the year, by water. To give the stran¬ 
 ger some idea of the light in which it was regarded, a few years 
 ago, as vrell as to illustrate still another trick of the speculators, 
 we narrate an occurrence which then took place. An enterprising 
 capitalist of “ deown east” (whose name might have been Spon- 
 dulix, had he petitioned the Legislature so to change it, from the 
 more euphonious pronominal appellation which he inherited), 
 hearing and reading much about the quick fortunes that were 
 amassed in western land speculations, became rabid on the sub¬ 
 ject, and determined to try his luck. Accordingly, he wrote to a 
 Chicago land-agent, whose published references were of a satisfac¬ 
 tory character, giving him direction to invest for him a considerable 
 sum in lands near the city, “which would be sure to rise.” The 
 agent executed the commission in the most literal manner, select¬ 
 ing lands which he was sure would rise in one way, if they did 
 not in another. If the value did not rise, the water would. Then, 
 writing to his principal, he informed him that he had made a 
 splendid investment; one which could not fail; sure of a rise as 
 soon as the spring opened. Spondulix rubbed his hands in glee, 
 built golden castles in the air during the winder, and when the 
 spring opened came out to look at his purchase, with his title 
 papers snug in his pocket. Finding the speculator, he questioned 
 him in regard to the land. Speculator assured him it was all 
 right. Spondulix wanted to see it; wanted to know how it lay; 
 to see if no thieving rascal had been cutting the timber, or other¬ 
 wise trespassing thereupon. Speculator appeared somewhat re¬ 
 luctant ; had too much business on hand; could not go. Spon- 
 
 > 
 
dulix was importunate; speculator at length consented to go, re¬ 
 marking that so much rain had made the roads horrible. They 
 proceeded southward in a buggy as far as it was possible to drive 
 the horse in safety, and then leaving the vehicle, continued the 
 journey on foot. The speculator walked in advance, picking the 
 way over bogs as well as he could; in this way managing to keep 
 above water. Every httle while, as they advanced, a crawfish 
 would flap out of the grass and disappear in its watery hole. 
 These creatures attracted the attention and excited the curiosity 
 of Spondulix, who had never before seen one of them. Every 
 time a flap was heard, he turned to look in wonder at the uncouth 
 tenant of the bogs. Presently the speculator came to a halt, and 
 turning to Spondulix, informed him that they had reached the 
 boundary of his land. Spondulix, without a word, walked on, 
 stepping from bog to bog, his mind seemingly engaged by the 
 novel proceedings of those singular crawfish. He had proceeded 
 some distance from the speculator, when a big crawfish flapped 
 into its hole at his feet. Spondulix pulled out his title-deed to 
 that marvelous tract of land, and with his cane rammed it far 
 down into the hole after the crawfish. “D—n you!” said he, 
 “ you’ve got the possession—yoii shall have the title!” Spondulix 
 went directly home, and has never since been known to have 
 dealings with western land speculators. 
 
 But while these practices of the land speculators are calculated 
 more especially for the deception of strangers abroad, there are 
 others far more dangerous than these to the emigrant and the 
 inexperienced stranger, who come to make the West their home. 
 By the laws of Illinois, the measure of damages which the grantee 
 may recover from the grantor, in case of the failure of title to lands, 
 is only the consideration money,'with six per cent, interest. Thus, 
 if B. takes a warrantee deed to land from A., and it subsequently 
 turns out that A. did not own the land, or that his title was de¬ 
 fective, B. can recover for the amount he paid, with interest, but 
 nothing for his improvements or for the increase of the land in 
 value. To illustrate the advantages which this law gives to the 
 unscrupulous speculator, we mention an instance which took place 
 in this city not many years ago. 
 
 A speculator, pursuing the usual practice of his craft, attended 
 
TOO LATE AND TOO FAST. 
 
 “ TTold on,” cried the policeman. 
 
40 
 
 the tax sales, and bid ofif a large number of lots in the west division 
 for the several trifling sums due on them for taxes. These lots, 
 which were of large size, he then proceeded to subdivide into the 
 common slips, twenty-flve feet in width. These he offered for sale 
 at such prices as readily brought him purchasers from among the 
 poorer class of laborers and immigrants. Without hesitation, he 
 gave each of them a warrantee deed, or, in some cases, a bond for 
 a deed. Supposing themselves, with such title papers, to be the 
 unquestionable owners of the land, the industrious, hard-working 
 purchasers took possession, built houses, and gathered about them 
 the improvements and comforts of a home. In the course of a 
 few years, the land having become valuable, the real owners made 
 their appearance, and proceeded to take measures for the eject¬ 
 ment of the occupants. The only alternative left them was in 
 proceedings at law against the speculator who had robbed them; 
 yet by this means they could only recover the amount originally 
 paid, with six per cent, interest. Even this not one of them was 
 ever able to collect from the insolvent swindler. 
 
 Another branch of the same system of speculation is continually 
 practiced in this city, sometimes with the intention to defraud; 
 oftener, perhaps, with the design, but not always the ability, to be 
 honest. Snooks buys a vacant block for, say $20,000, on ten 
 years’ time. He pays $1,000 down, and gives a mortgage or 
 trust deed (the most blood-thirsty of all obligations ever invented 
 by lawyers or men), to secure the remaining payments. To meet 
 these payments, as well as to realize his anticipated proflts, he 
 depends upon the profltable sales which he expects to make. The 
 block is subdivided into lots, which are put upon the market. 
 Flaming advertisements appear in the newspapers, extolling the 
 beauty, the advantages, the prospects, the rapid growth, etc., etc., 
 of that particular portion of the city, and very likely some paper, 
 with editors who may be cheaply bought or bribed, comes out 
 with a glowing editorial upon the same subject. Frequently some 
 grand institution is to be established there; some church, or col¬ 
 lege, or monastery, or distillery, or manufactory, to supply all the 
 natural and spiritual, as well as artificial, wants of mankind, 
 which, the newspaper quack assures his innocent readers, will 
 make every poor devil independently rich before he has lived there 
 
41 
 
 two years! Then, by way of clinching what has before been said, 
 the papers in a day or two contain what purports to be reports 
 of sales, as, “ Mr. Peter Funk sold six lots in Snooks’ Addition, to 
 Mr. Greenman, of Vermont, for $10,000. Mr. Greenman contem¬ 
 plates the erection of an establishment for making artificial ice- 
 water, which will employ a large number of hands.” This, gen¬ 
 erally, has the desired efiect. All the poor laborers in the city 
 who are anxious to get employment in Mr. Greenman’s ice-water 
 factory, reason that the surest way is to live in its vicinity. Ac¬ 
 cordingly, they proceed to buy lots, those who have the means, 
 and build cottages. Snooks “ realizes” largely on his purchase, 
 makes the second payment, sells all he can during the next year, 
 warranting the title to all, fails, blows up, Schuylerizes, runs away, 
 and leaves the poor dupes of his rascality to tohisile for their rights. 
 The land, of course, goes back to the original owner, whose ten¬ 
 der mercies seldom greatly exceed those of the speculator himself. 
 
 Now, to the limited understanding of ordinary people, such 
 practices as these may appear very much like downright swin¬ 
 dling—a crime which usually sends its poor perpetrators to the 
 penitentiary. It should be borne in mind, however, that society 
 regards in widely different lights the bungling thief, who merely 
 robs his neighbor’s hen-roost, and the smooth-tongued, gentlemanly 
 rogue, who takes the last cent his victim has in the world, under 
 the guise of speculation. The one is unanimously voted a proper 
 subject for the grand jury, while the other receives credit for a 
 shrewd business man 1 Heaven deliver the innocent from such 
 shrewdness! 
 
 In buying real estate, no matter how small the quantity or how 
 little the price, the only proper and safe course is to examine the 
 records and satisfy yourself as to the title, beforehand. Trust to 
 no one’s statement or assertion. Make the person from whom 
 you buy bear the expense of furnishing you with an abstract of 
 title made by some reliable conveyancer. If he refuses to do this, 
 have nothing more to do with him; you may be sure there is a 
 “negro in the fence” somewhere. 
 
 There are many other tricks practiced by the land speculators 
 to dupe strangers, both abroad and at home, to which our limits 
 will not permit an extended reference. A lucrative business of 
 4 * 
 
42 
 
 this kind is carried on in swamp lands, to which we have already 
 incidentally alluded. Many of these lands are utterly worthless 
 for any practical purpose whatever. They are bought by the 
 speculators for a mere nominal price, whereupon (as the proceed¬ 
 ings in our courts have, on sundry occasions, proved) agents are 
 sent to New York, or some other large commercial city at the 
 East, to “blow” them (such is the appropriate technical term used 
 to designate their proceedings). When they have been sufficiently 
 “blown,” the owner goes on, and with some merchant whose 
 “generous confidence” exceeds his discretion, pledges them as 
 collateral security for a stock of goods. The goods are brought 
 West and converted into cash, if possible, before the merchant can 
 find out the real value of the land'. In one instance of this kind, 
 the merchant wrote to the treasurer of the county in which the 
 land was situated, requesting him to visit and examine the tract, 
 and report as to its situation, value, etc. The treasurer replied 
 that the merchant must first send him pay for the service required, 
 as he would not accept the land for his trouble. In another in¬ 
 stance, the merchant—a New York man—wrote to the county 
 surveyor, requesting him to make a survey of the tract mentioned, 
 and report as to its location and value. The surveyor proceeded 
 to the land, but did not survey it. In his report to the merchant, 
 he gave as his reason for not doing so, that he had no boat, and 
 must wait until the water froze over I 
 
 These tricks are often practiced upon drovers, as well as immi¬ 
 grants, and all others who may have property they are willing to 
 dispose of for land. The swamp-land speculators are ready to 
 trade for any thing which may be turned into cash. Hence, many 
 unthinking immigrants, who have a team or other property which 
 they desire to convert into land, are taken in by these sharpers. 
 A case of this kind occurred in the month of September last, in 
 which a farmer from Massachusetts was induced to part with 
 property of the value of $1,000 for a farm, in one of the interior 
 counties of this state, which was two-thirds under water, and to 
 which, besides, the speculators had nothing but a tax title. In 
 this case, the swindlers were arrested and made to settle with their 
 victim. 
 
 While, however, the emigrant from foreign shores, and the in- 
 
s 
 
 43 
 
 experienced Or confiding'stranger from our own, who come hither , 
 to find a home, are liable to fall into the traps set by unscrupulous 
 speculators, it should be remembered that all land dealers are not 
 of this class, Tliere are as upright and honorable men engaged 
 in this business as in any other. It is only to those who are not 
 upright or honorable that these remarks are intended to apply. 
 Rogues and honest men are ever found together, in spite of the 
 old adage, that a man is known by the company he keeps. The • 
 West does not differ in this respect from any other region of coun¬ 
 try, Because there are sharks in the sea, man- does not refuse to 
 navigate its waters, or search for profit among its scaly inhabitants; 
 neither should he avoid the West, because here are found sharks 
 on the land. The inducements far outweigh the dangers, while, 
 with prudence, the latter may be avoided. It has been truly said, 
 by one whose opinion is worthy of all confidence, that “ there is 
 probably no part of the American continent where capital, judi¬ 
 ciously invested in real estate, and combined with well-directed 
 effort and industry, can be made so productive as in the ‘North¬ 
 west.’ Could many of our Eastern friends see the countless acres 
 of virgin soil that lie here neglected, and await but the hand of 
 the husbandman to unlock their rich treasures, and unfold the 
 hidden wealth that has so long remained uncared for, they would 
 at once abandon the bleak hills and unyielding rocks of New 
 England, and come where their labor would be sure to meet a 
 handsome reward.” 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The Chicago Sand-bar Case. 
 
 Since the preceding chapter was written, the long-talked of 
 case of Bates vs. the Illinois Central Railroad Company has been 
 tried in the United States Circuit Court, holding its session in this 
 city, with Judges McLean and Drummond on the bench. The 
 importance of the case, the magnitude of the interests involved, 
 the deep anxiety which very many people, in the East as well as 
 the West, have felt upon the subject, as well as the character of 
 the parties and the circumstances surrounding the case—showing 
 one of the most stupendous schemes of speculation ever conceived 
 by the fertile imagination of the most greedy land-shark—have 
 induced us, before proceeding with other subjects, to give a suc¬ 
 cinct history of this already celebrated lawsuit. 
 
 It is an action of ejectment, brought by George C. Bates, of De¬ 
 troit, against the Ulinois Central Railroad Company, to recover 
 possession of the grounds occupied by the company for depot pur¬ 
 poses, at the entrance of the Chicago harbor, and upon which the 
 company have expended a million and a half of dollars. The total 
 value of the property is almost beyond calculation; it is safe to 
 say it could not be bought for two millions. Bates and his con¬ 
 freres claim, under conveyances from the original patentee, through 
 various parties and in various ways, until the title rests with 
 them. 
 
 To fully understand the subject, it is necessary to go back to 
 the original survey of the lands in Chicago, made by the govern¬ 
 ment in 1818. At that time there existed a sand-bar, or spit of 
 land, from one to three feet in height above the water, at the 
 mouth of the Chicago River, situated as shown in the engraved 
 diagram, and connected with the main-land on the north side of 
 the river. This sand-bar, formed in the progress of years by the 
 
45 
 
 contending currents of the lake and river, which deposited their 
 sands, in obedience to a well-known law, in a direct line from the 
 angle of incidence, had removed the outlet of the river from its 
 original position to a point half a mile further south. The sand¬ 
 bar, however, was not included in the original survey, nor laid 
 
 down in the plats made therefrom, 
 which show the mouth of the river 
 as it originally was. The surveyors 
 ran the meanders of Lake Michi¬ 
 gan, commencing at the comer, to 
 fractional section 10 and 15 (*), 
 along ’the east side of fractional 
 section 10, N. 2*=* "W. 14c. 501.; 
 N. 4® W. 8c. 291.; N. 5^® W. 11c. 
 891., “ to the mouth of the Chicago 
 River;” thence “across the mouth 
 of the Chicago River,” N. 29° E. 
 4c. 471.; K 10° E. 14c. 51.; 
 
 4° W. 19c; N. 14° W. 10c. 431., 
 to the corner of fractional sections 
 3 and 10 (:{;). The meanders of 
 the river were commenced “on 
 the south side of said river at its 
 mouth,” and terminated at “the 
 mouth of said river, on the north 
 side.” No other connection was 
 given in the field notes of the surveyors, between the river and 
 the lake. 
 
 The claim of Bates is to land in the north part of fractional 
 section 10 (of which part, it is claimed, the sand-bar was a por¬ 
 tion), which was patented by the government to Robert A. Kinzie. 
 The patent called for 102.51 acres, the quantity of land included in 
 the government suiwey. 
 
 In 1804, Fort Dearborn was first built. In the same year John 
 Kinzie, an Indian trader, purchased the establishment of a French¬ 
 man, named Le Mai. and took up his abode in a house erected on 
 the river bank, directly opposite the fort. Thus the Kinzie family 
 became the occupants of the land long prior to the time when they 
 
46 
 
 acquired any rights of ownership. The possession was uninter¬ 
 rupted from 1804 down to August, 1812, when the fort was 
 evacuated by order of Gien, Hull, and burnt by the Indians, who 
 likewise massacred the garrison, with the exception of about 
 twenty. By this event the Kinzie family were forced from their 
 possessions, and barely escaped with their lives. The interruption 
 continued until 1816, when the fort was rebuilt, and Kinzie re¬ 
 turned to his trading post. 
 
 In 1830, the first pre-emption law was passed by Congress, and, 
 under its provisions, Robert Kinzie (his father having died in 1828) 
 claimed the north part of fractional section 10. In 1831, the land 
 was entered by him at the land-office at Palestine. As it turned 
 out, the entry at Palestine was invalid, by reason of the northern 
 part of the state having been erected some three months prior to 
 the entry into a new land district. But, in 1836, Congress passed 
 an act for the relief of persons so situated, and in 1837 Mr. Kinzie 
 received his patent. The court decided upon the question of law 
 raised by the defense, that the act of Congress was a confirmation 
 of the sale at Palestine, and that Kinzie’s title accrued from the 
 date of the entry, and not from the date of the patent, or of the 
 act authorizing it to issue. 
 
 Prior to about this time the sand-bar appears to have been re¬ 
 garded by all parties as of no value. No person had formally 
 laid claim to it. It was unoccupied and used for no purpose 
 whatever, except occasionally as a highway, the bar furnishing an 
 easy ford across the river outlet, where the water was sometimes 
 only a few inches in depth. But in those years, as every one 
 remembers, speculation became a raging epidemic. Every spot 
 of ground, previously disregarded as valueless, was seized upon as 
 containing a fortune in futuro, and yet the patentee of the north 
 fraction seems not to have so regarded the sand-bar. This, how¬ 
 ever, may have been, and probably was, owing to the fact that 
 it was then entirely cut off from the main-land by the harbor, for 
 which the survey wms made, by authority of Congress, in 1829 
 (while the government was still the sole claimant and absolute 
 owner of the north fraction), across the sand-bar, where the mouth 
 of the river had originally been, and which was built and opened 
 in 1833-4. Immediately on the opening of the harbor, the sand- 
 
47 
 
 bar began to decrease in size, by the action of the waves, and 
 continued so to do until, in 1837 or ’38, it entirely disappeared. 
 
 In 1835, before a very large portion of the sand-bar was washed 
 away, one George Walker, a surveyor, conceived the idea that it 
 could not have been entered by any one, not having been in¬ 
 cluded in the government survey. Accordingly he proceeded to 
 erect a shanty and “ squat” upon it, petitioning the government 
 to have it surveyed. The government caused it to be surveyed in 
 1836, and added to the south fraction. Walker located what is 
 called a “ float” upon it. 
 
 Meanwhile, another speculator—a lawyer named Henry Moore 
 —arrived at the conclusion that something might be made out of 
 this sand-bar, by claiming it to be a part of the north fraction. 
 He went to Kinzie and presented the matter to him. The result 
 was that Kinzie quit-claimed and released to Moore all of whatever 
 right and title he might have to the sand-bar. But Moore never 
 asserted any claim under the conveyance. The lake asserted a 
 more potent claim than either Moore or Walker possessed; an 
 action of ejectment was brought by the winds and waves, Walker’s 
 house was thrown down, and the waters swallowed up all that 
 remained of the old Chicago sand-bar. For fifteen years after¬ 
 ward Lake Michigan held undisputed and unquestioned possession. 
 Its waters covered the spot, and the ships of commerce rode in 
 safety where the garrison of Fort Dearborn had formerly chased 
 foxes for their pastime. 
 
 In 1852 the government conveyed to the Illinois Central Rail¬ 
 road Company a portion of the Fort Dearborn reservation, which 
 in the deed included, by metes and bounds, a portion of the lake 
 where the old sand-bar had been. Another portion of the lake 
 front, embracing the remainder of the sand-bar area, was conveyed 
 to the same company by the state. The company commenced 
 the erection of piers and the filling up of the lake for their depot 
 grounds, but were soon met by an obstacle. The owners of ad¬ 
 jacent property on the land interposed the claim of riparian 
 rights. Litigation ensued, and the company was beaten. The 
 courts granted injunctions, which were sustained by the Supreme 
 Court, restraining them from the obstruction of the riparian owners’ 
 free access to the lake—these owners, be it remembered, before 
 
48 
 
 the sand-bar disappeared, only having access to what it is now 
 claimed was the river. The company were compelled to purchase 
 from the riparian owners their rights before they could proceed 
 with their work. This was done, and the company then pro¬ 
 ceeded, without any further attempt at hindrance, to the erection 
 of the immense and durable structures which now are seen before 
 this city, and which have added more to its wealth and prosperity 
 than any other single cause within the period of its history. 
 
 In this state of things comes along George C. Bates (just re¬ 
 turned from California, where he had engaged in a similar specu¬ 
 lation with success). He beholds these structures of the Illinois 
 Central, and rightly conjectures that an immense sum of money 
 has been expended there. What if, with those old shadowy sand¬ 
 bar titles, he can trump up a claim out of which a handsome 
 “pile” can be realized. Being a brother-in-law of Kinzie will 
 help him to get track of them, and for the rest, why, he will 
 “trust to luck” and the courts. He first proceeds to associate 
 himself with certain other shrewd speculators, between whom and 
 himself written agreements are made (copies of which were offered 
 in evidence on the trial, by the defense), each having his appro¬ 
 priate duties to perform, and being entitled, in the event of a 
 recovery, to a stipulated share of the plunder. Bates is to have 
 one-half; Wills, one-quarter; Green and the other partner, one- 
 eighth each. Bates is to hunt up and purchase every thing in the 
 shape of a title; Wills is to attend to the interests of the specula¬ 
 tion at Chicago; Green and the other to the same at Wasliington, 
 among the government records. 
 
 Bates first follows up Henry Moore, to get possession of the 
 quit-claim from Kinzie. He finds that he had taken the benefit of 
 the bankrupt act in Massachusetts, where all the estate he owned 
 in the world had been bid off for the sum of eight dollars by his 
 brother, Robert Moore. Henry Moore is dead. Bates follows up 
 the brother, and finds, in the northern part of Vermont, that he 
 also is dead. But he has left a will, bequeathing all his property 
 to his widow. Among the rest is the estate of his brother Henry 
 in bankruptcy; but this is of so little value that he neglected to 
 take a deed from the bankruptcy court. The speculator takes the 
 next step by proxy. He engages the services of two New York 
 
49 
 
 lawyers, for a couple of hundred dollars down and one-tenth in¬ 
 terest in his share of the expected plunder, who obtain from the 
 widow an assignment of the estate in bankruptcy, and then from 
 the bankruptcy commissioners a deed, which is by them conveyed 
 to Bates. This is one basis of claim to the Illinois Central depot 
 grounds. 
 
 In 1833 Kinzie subdivided his north fraction into town lots. 
 At the southeast comer (see the diagram) a number of lots were 
 laid out with open fronts, the object being to make them wharfage 
 lots, bounded on the south by the harbor, which the government 
 was preparing to open through the sand-bar. Several of these 
 lots were sold, and by the descriptions in the deeds they would 
 extend entirely across the harbor, and embrace some portion of 
 ground south of it. From the owners of lots so described the 
 speculators purchased for mere nominal sums and a share of the 
 spoils when obtained, all that portion which would lie south of 
 the harbor, on the depot grounds. This is another basis of claim. 
 
 As we have said, the trial of this remarkable case has but just 
 closed. The facts elicited show it to be one of the most stupen¬ 
 dous schemes of speculation which was ever undertaken with like 
 dubious prospects of success. And yet it is but of the same char¬ 
 acter with hundreds of others, on a smaller scale, which have at¬ 
 tracted the cupidity of speculators in Chicago. Imperfect titles to 
 property furnish one of the most common and fruitful fields for 
 the operations of this class of gamblers. No man in purchasing 
 real estate can be too careful in the investigation of its title. 
 
 The sand-bar case was given to the jury on Tuesday, October 
 5 th. The main questions of law upon which the case depended 
 were the following: 
 
 1. Whether the patent to Kinzie, calling for land bounded on 
 the south by the Chicago River, and east by the lake, in accord¬ 
 ance with the government survey, did or did not embrace the 
 sand-bar, which was not included in said survey. The court de¬ 
 cided that as a riparian owner the rights of the patentee would 
 extend to the water. 
 
 2. Whether the title of Kinzie to the said north part of frac¬ 
 tional section 10 accrued at the time of his making the entry, in 
 1831, or at the time of the passage of the act of Congress, in 1836, 
 
 5 
 
 y 
 
50 
 
 anthorizing the patent to issne. The court decided that the title 
 accrued from the time the money was paid at the land-office. 
 
 3. Whether the owner, upon the opening of the harbor and 
 disappearance of the sand-bar, did or did not abandon whatever 
 rights he may have had in the sand-bar, and dedicate it to the 
 public use. Upon this question it was held, with regard to land 
 submerged, of which the original boundaries could be defined, 
 that the right of navigation and of reclamation would be coexist¬ 
 ent, and the latter must yield to the former. 
 
 4. Whether or not, in the gradual washing away of the sand¬ 
 bar, all individual rights were lost, and the property vested abso¬ 
 lutely in the sovereign. This question was given to the jury to 
 decide upon the evidence as to whether the sand-bar disappeared 
 gradually and imperceptibly or suddenly and perceptibly. 
 
 The jury, after two hours’ consultation, rendered a verdict for 
 the defendants. A new trial was moved for by thv plaintiff 
 
 \ 
 
61 
 
 CHAPTER y. ^ 
 
 yESTERN Confidence Men. 
 
 Analogous to the land-shark is the “ Confidence Man,” of a 
 class peculiar to the West, found operating more or less exten¬ 
 sively in every city, and along every important line of public 
 travel. Whoever has read Hermann Melville’s “Confidence 
 Man ” will have formed a very clear and accurate idea of this spe¬ 
 cies of the genus homo, as exhibited in many of his chamelion- 
 like phases. To-day, a land speculator; to-morrow, the agent of 
 some railroad contractor, furnishing-men, for a dollar a head, em¬ 
 ployment on some distant railroad, where, on their arrival, they 
 find no such contractor exists ; on the next day, enlightening the 
 verdant public of the profits to be derived from investment in the 
 Grand Copper-Bottom Joint-Stock Mining Company; on the next, 
 selling shares in a real estate lottery, or “gift enterprise,” in 
 which the lowest prize is a farm worth half a million; and so on, 
 to the end of the chapter. 
 
 The “ Joint-Stock Distribution Company ” is a favorite scheme 
 with this class of swindlers—we choose to call things by their 
 right names. The usual models operandi we will describe. Im¬ 
 primis, then, Mr. Sharper requires a cash capital of at least ten 
 dollars, or its equivalent in credit with some job printer. He gets 
 up a fiaming circular, setting forth that “ a number of wealthy 
 and benevolent gentlemen, being about to leave the country, and 
 having an immense amount of property which they wish to dis¬ 
 pose of, have adopted the plan of forming a joint-stock company, 
 and distributing it among the shareholders.” Then follows a 
 “list of the prizes,” embracing farms of fabulous value, town lots, 
 carriages, horses, watches, jewelry, dry-goods, and fancy articles 
 enough to stock a Yankee peddlar, or enrich a whole community 
 of Hebrew tradesmen. “ Only a limited number of shares will 
 
QUIT CLAIM. 
 
 You’ve got the possession, you shall have the title.” 
 
53 
 
 be sold,” which of course means as many as Mr. Sharper can by 
 any possibility dispose of, “and the distribution will take place 
 as soon as they are ah taken.” Mr. Sharper opens an office in a 
 prominent street; advertises, if a shrewd operator, in the news¬ 
 papers, and distributes his circulars through the country. Agents 
 are solicited to dispose of shares, to whom most liberal terms are 
 offered. The names of respectable gentlemen, as referees, are 
 often, by some hook or crook obtained, and every imaginable 
 appliance is used to inspire confidence. The opinion of the pov¬ 
 erty-stricken press is suborned by an advertisement and a few 
 shares, or, if these will not do, by a bribe of a few dollars paid to 
 some miserable scribbler of “ local items,” whose idea of an editor’s 
 duty to the public is regulated by the price which those who de¬ 
 sire to profit by the public may consider him worth. The shares 
 begin to go out, and the money begins to come in. When this 
 exchange has been going on for some length of time, and the 
 shareholders begin to think it is time to hear something about 
 the distribution, they should not be surprised, some pleasant 
 morning, on passing the office of the “Grand Joint-Stock Distri¬ 
 bution Company,” to find the doors closed, and a notice like unto 
 
 this posted thereon: 
 
 « 
 
 “ Gone into the country for a few days. 
 
 Keen Sharper, Agent G. J. S. D. Co.” 
 
 If, when the “ few days ” have expired, Mr. Keen Sharper does 
 not reappear, the best way for the shareholders is to say nothing 
 more about the matter, unless they are ambitious to bo laughed at. 
 
 But Mr. Sharper’s game is not always to run away. It is quite 
 as convenient, and often more advantageous for his purposes, to 
 have the “ distribution ” take place. It gives a color of honesty 
 to the scheme, sufficient usually to prevent the shareholders from 
 tarring and feathering him, and enables him the more success¬ 
 fully to carry out a similar scheme, upon a grander scale, in the 
 next city he may visit. It also enables him to pocket larger 
 profits. The announcement of the day for the distribution in¬ 
 spires the public with new confidence, and stimulates the sale of ‘ 
 shai'es in proportion. It is usually accompanied by the intere*^ 
 
64 
 
 ing information that “only a small number of shares remain 
 unsold; every one who would get a fifty-thousand-dollar farm for 
 one dollar must call soon, as the books will be closed on Thursday 
 at noon,” The books are closed pursuant to the announcement, 
 leaving, as Mr. Sharper regrets to say, a few hundred share certi¬ 
 ficates on his hands. 
 
 The distribution is superintended by a committee of share¬ 
 holders, appointed for that purpose by the shareholders at large. 
 It is needless to inform the intelligent reader that this committee 
 is composed of as arrant knaves as Mr. Sharper himself—men who 
 are his accomplices; or who, for a consideration, have consented 
 to look on and wink at fraud; or who, not being dupers, are 
 themselves dupes without knowing it. There are a hundred ways 
 ’‘in which the thing may be done, and yet every one of the fifty 
 or sixty thousand shareholders stand a much better chance of 
 being made President of the United States than of drawing a single 
 prize in this confidence lottery. And yet some prizes are drawn— 
 oh, yes—it would not do for Mr. Sharper to let all draw blanks. 
 A few insignificant prizes are drawn, and when the lucky holder 
 of a corresponding certificate presents himself to receive his prize, 
 Mr. Sharper is of course abundantly able to go to some shop and 
 buy a cheap article of the kind which the certificate calls for. 
 Not one of the valuable pieces of property mentioned in the 
 schedule was ever in his possession before. 
 
 Upward of seventy thousand dollars was realized by some 
 half a dozen speculating individuals, who engaged in a scheme of 
 this kind in this city about two years ago. Since then, no one 
 has ventured to embark in the business upon so extensive a scale; 
 yet it is still carried on, as the circulars frequently sent through 
 the mail abundantly prove. It is one of the most successful, safe 
 and lucrative systems of swindling, for which reasons it is a fa¬ 
 vorite one with confidence operators in the West. Wlioever ex¬ 
 pects to obtain a farm (or any thing else of value) by investing in 
 such a scheme, will find, when it is too late to withdraw, that the 
 “ fool and his money have parted.” 
 
 Another, and often a still more profitable confidence game, is 
 afforded by what is known in the West as the “generous confi¬ 
 dence ” system of banking. In all countries, since the invention 
 5 * 
 
65 
 
 of paper money, liaa the banking business afforded to the chevor 
 •‘Her d'indttstrie a rich and attractive field. The abstruse and not 
 generally understood nature of its transactions has enabled sharp¬ 
 ers to invent systems of swindling in its name, which even the 
 law has oftentimes been puzzled how to reach and punish. Pub¬ 
 lic ignorance is ever the surest safeguard of vice, t It was the 
 remark of a distinguished judicial functionary of this city, in giv¬ 
 ing his testimony in a case where the cashier of a bank was 
 charged with stealing its funds, that in his opinion double-entry 
 book-keeping was invented to enable book-keepers to steal with¬ 
 out the risk of being found out. With how much more truth 
 would the remark apply to the banking business, as often prac¬ 
 ticed in the West, those who have suffered thereby can best 
 answer. 
 
 Prior and for some years subsequent to’the enactment of the 
 general banking law of Illinois, the banking business in the state 
 was conducted almost entirely on the '' generous confidence ” 
 basis. The issues of banks ostensibly^^ocated in picturesque loca¬ 
 tions on the Chattahoochee, Ocmulgee, Ogeechee, and other 
 romantic rivers of the South—whose sluggish waters, reflecting 
 forever the rank foliage of impenetrable everglades, are navigated 
 by populous communities of alligators—formed the great bulk of 
 the circulating medium of the state. In reality, these issues 
 never saw the land of their pretended birth, and it is still in 
 many instances a question of great uncertainty whether or not 
 the banks whose names were printed on the bills had any more 
 than an imaginary existence. The bills were issued, and in 
 some cases signed, at brokers’ shops in Chicago. They went 
 out among farmers and mechanics, dollar for dollar; tliey came 
 back to the brokers who issued them, and were taken in ex¬ 
 change for rags of a like character, but would not buy gold, 
 silver, or Eastern exchange. For their redemption, the holder 
 must travel to the banks of the Chattahoochee, above whose 
 auriferous deposits fat alligators bask in the noon-day sun, and, 
 if he did not succeed in finding any body to redeem the noteS; 
 he could return with the consolation that the money was good 
 so long as it would pass. 
 
 So long as these issues enjoy the public confidence, are thej 
 
56 
 
 not as good as any other ? Thus reason the wild-cat bankers, 
 and thus also reason confidence men of a still more positive 
 class. Shrewd sharpers take advantage of the system to swindle 
 country people upon a grand and scientific scale. An office, a 
 safe, a counter, two or three books, and money enough to pay an 
 engraver^s bill and bribe the publisher of some bank-note reporter, 
 who probably takes an interest as a “ silent partner ” in the spec¬ 
 ulation, constitute all the capital requisite to establish a bank. 
 Ten or fifteen thousand pictures—whatever the amount of “ cir¬ 
 culation” is to be—manufactured somewhere in New York for 
 some imaginary bank in the District of Columbia, or other re¬ 
 mote locality, being secretly unpacked in his bedroom, the banker 
 goes to work at night to sign them. This done, the bank is 
 ready to open for business. 
 
 Usually, not less than two persons are required to carry out 
 this game, who engage a third as book-keeper. This is usually 
 some innocent young man who is too verdant to comprehend the 
 character of his employers, and sufficiently obedient to do pre¬ 
 cisely what he is told to do. In the end, he is generally cheated 
 out of his wages. One of the bankers remains in the office, acting 
 as cashier, teller and “ all hands.” The other goes into the country 
 to buy produce and put the “ currency ” in circulation. Of course 
 he is not scrupulous about paying the highest market price; 
 produce at any price being more valuable than slips of linen 
 tissue-paper which have been spoiled by printing. The produce, 
 of course, is reconverted as rapidly as possible into a more valu¬ 
 able currency, and when the “bankers” have thus realized a 
 satisfactory amount, or proceeded to the limit of safety, the bank 
 closes its doors, and the successful swindlers are not to be found. 
 
 Within the last two or three years, by reason of the energy of 
 some of our private detectives, and the efforts of our legal banks 
 to exterminate the parent wild-cats, none of this description of 
 bankers have carried on their business openly in our midst. 
 Secretly, however, the worthless “ generous confidence ” issues of 
 Georgia swamps and Alabama cane-brakes are still put in circu¬ 
 lation, whenever opportunity offers. Immigrants and strangers 
 are of course the most liable to be “ taken in ” by them. The 
 best way to avoid them is to reject, in general, all bills purporting 
 
67 
 
 to be issued at some remote and unknown locality. In the Dis¬ 
 trict of Columbia, the law prohibits the issue of bank bills under 
 the denomination of five dollars, so that every bill purporting to 
 come from there, of a lower denomination than this, may be 
 known to be a fraud. , 
 
 Space will not permit us to refer at length to all the different 
 phases of the western confidence man, who, like the fabled chame- 
 lion, changes his color whenever it becomes desirable for his pur¬ 
 poses. His modes of operating are almost as various as the char¬ 
 acters of men. He is alw'ays an intelligent man, dresses in 
 accordance with the character he personates, and is a shrew'^d judge 
 of human nature. Like the charming serpent, he approaches his 
 victim knowing him to be in his power. He is the most sociable 
 and companionable of men, except when it is his game to be 
 otherwise. His prime object is to gain the confidence of his in¬ 
 tended victim, for upon this depends his success. He is, however, 
 not always successful. Sometimes he falls in with one who is too 
 shrewd for his purposes, when the intended victim becomes the 
 victimizes Such wms the case with Smith, a confidence operator 
 who was arrested in this city not long since. Smith was “ sold ” in 
 a manner which reflected very little credit upon his own shrewd¬ 
 ness, or the reputation of his profession. The salesman was an 
 Indian. 
 
 Smith was in Madison, the capital of Wisconsin, a few days 
 before his arrest, where, in company with another member of 
 “the profession,” he had been “sighting” around for a job. Both 
 rogues were extremely “ hard up.” In the course of their walks 
 about the city they fell in with a young Stockbridge Indian, and 
 learned from him, after insinuating themselves into his favor, that 
 he was daily expecting a remittance of some $300 from his 
 mother.* Generous, unsuspecting, and withal not unwilling to 
 doff his character of “ stoic of the wood ” occasionally to enjoy a 
 “jolly time,” the Indian told his new-made acquaintances that 
 when his money arrived he would return the compliment they 
 were so graciously paying him in urging him to enjoy himself at 
 their expense, and they would then have a “ good time generally.” 
 
 * The Stockbridges are a semi-civilized tribe, living on and cultivating 
 lands given them by the government near Lake Winnebago. 
 
58 
 
 The proceedings of the parties attracted the attention of a 
 Madison detective, who took occasion when the Indian was away 
 from his companions to question him, and put him on his guard. 
 He was furnished by the detective with fifty or sixty dollars 
 in counterfeit bank-notes and instructed how to proceed. He 
 immediately found his social friends, told them that his remittance 
 had come, and suggested that they> should have a drink together. 
 It was then late in the afternoon, and from saloon to saloon, during 
 the remainder of the day, they followed him like brothers. The 
 manner in which the young Native American performed the role 
 of Toodles for their edification and his own amusement would 
 have done credit to Burton himself. At a late hour, the trio went 
 to a second class hotel (the Indian having positively refused to 
 go to several worse places), and Smith had become so much 
 attached to his tawny brother that he proposed sleeping with him, 
 which proposition was acceded to. 
 
 Calmly, as one with an easy conscience, did the Indian sink to 
 sleep; quietly he lay. 
 
 His leathery limbs and soul fatigued away, 
 
 Blissfully haven’d both from joy and pain. 
 
 Blinded alike from sunshine and from rain. 
 
 Clasped like a jack-knife, silently he lay, 
 
 etc., etc., and when he awoke in the morning, sure enough, his 
 quandum friend Smith and the roll of bogus bank-notes were 
 gone, the thief, in his haste, having given his associate neither 
 share nor warning, but left him behind to bear the brunt of the 
 indignation which he had reason to suppose would be aroused in 
 the swart bosom of the damnified Stockbridge. 
 
 Smith came directly to Chicago, attempted to pass some of the 
 counterfeit notes, and straightway found himself in jail. His plea 
 of ignorance as to the character of the money failed to avail him 
 any thing. 
 
 We close this chapter by illustrating one other phase in the 
 character of the confidence man, as related in the experience of 
 
 JONES; OR, THE VICTIM OF MISPLACED CONFIDENCE. 
 
 Ptolemy Tompkins, Esq., sat in his office one bright afternoon, 
 ruminating upon a large quid of Corbin’s best, and the chances of 
 
59 
 
 
 a fee. The sunlight, brightly as it gleamed upon the roofs of the 
 tall buildings around, did not enliven his somber room, which 
 looked out upon one of those small odoriferous courts in the rear 
 of the “ paying property ” on Clark-street. His fancy was fast 
 taking the amber hues of the surrounding atmosphere, for the day 
 was rapidly waning, and as yet “ ne’er a nickel ” had been added 
 to the slender store that enjoyed ample room to jingle in his purse. 
 
 His serious reflections were interrupted by a loud rap on the 
 ofiflce door, and hope whispered a fee. 
 
 “ Come in!” said Ptolemy Tompkins, Esq., and Jones entered. 
 
 Now, Jones was evidently from the East, and bred among tall 
 timber, for, like Elongatus Johannes, he stood six feet in his cow¬ 
 hides; his face defied the sun to add another freckle, and his hair 
 was of the color of brick-dust, but this is not surprising, as Jones 
 habitually carried a “brick in his hat.” 
 
 “ Well, ’squar,” said Jones, discharging at the same time a huge 
 mouthful of tobacco juice upon the floor; “ are you a lawyer ?” 
 
 Ptolemy Tompkins, Esq., modestly said, “Yes,” at the same 
 time ejecting a decoction of the bitter weed almost equal in vc^ 
 ume to that of Jones. 
 
 “ Wal, then,” resumed Jones, “ I want some ’dvice.” 
 
 Here the legal Ptolemy hinted at the necessity of “ crossing his 
 palm ” with the “ needful ” to enable him fully to understand the 
 intricacies of Jones’s case; but Jones plainly informed the attor¬ 
 ney that he had “ not a red.” The attorney thought he lied; but 
 the sequel proved he did not. At this announcement, the vision 
 of a fee faded from his imagination, and his fingers worked nerv¬ 
 ously with his purse, whose contents gave a faint rattle as if 
 they too were disappointed in losing expected company. 
 
 “ But, ’squar,” insinuated Jones, with another salival discharge, 
 “you can give me the ’dvice, and I’ll pay you the very fust money 
 I get after I get to Kansas—on honor, I wQl.” 
 
 Ptolemy Tompkins, Esq., was a firm believer in the final re¬ 
 demption of unhappy Eiansas. We will not say to what political 
 party he belonged—indeed, we believe he is not quite certain 
 upon that point himself—^but the assurance of Jones caused him 
 again to see his fee in the dim distance, and he told him to go on 
 and state his case. 
 
60 
 
 “Shall I begin at the fust of it?” asked Jones. 
 
 Tompkins told him to begin where he liked, and be as brieC 
 with the ^important parts, as possible. 
 
 “Wal,” began Jones, as, freeing his mouth of the quid in pre- 
 senti and inserting a new supply, he seated himself where he 
 could hold the attorney with his eye. “You see, ’squar, I’m from 
 Yarmont, north part of the state, and there want a fellow in them 
 parts could beat me at skeetin’ or logrollin’.” 
 
 “No matter about that,” said Ptolemy. 
 
 “Wal, you know, we heer’d a good deal about Kansas, and got 
 pretty considerably warmed up. There was lots on ’em talked 
 about goin’ there ’n’ squattin’, but there was more talk than doin’ 
 on it, now I teU you. Wal, we’d got pretty much through hayin’, 
 so, says I, I’ll go ’long; but I’m darned if they didn’t aU back 
 right out and leave me to go alone. Wal, ’squar, there ain’t no back 
 out in me. Uncle Zeek said I wouldn’t do for that kentry, as I 
 drinked, though I never went over a quart a day, ’cept trainin’ 
 day, fourth of July, town-meetin’ and sich days. But I was bound 
 to go to Kansas, so I bought me a Sharpe’s rifle and took the 
 pledge right on the spot.” 
 
 “Well, well,” said Ptolemy, who feared the loss of his supper, 
 “pass over all that, and come to the matter upon which you want 
 my advice.” 
 
 “Wal, I arrived in Chicago, and I will say it for ’em, I never 
 found so many friends among straingers any wheres else; more’u 
 twenty of’m at the de^o^ offered to show me where to stop, and 
 most quarreled which should dew it. But I -ccepted the invita¬ 
 tion of a feller who said he was goin’ to Kansas, and had been 
 waitin’ for some good feller for company. Wal, I went to his 
 boardin’ house, cause he said there were lots of pick-pockets 
 reound this teown, and one didn’t always know when one was 
 gettin’ into company with ’em. P’raps, he said, I mightn’t have 
 confidence in Mm; but I told him never mind, I’d stick to him 
 anyhow. Wal, you see, this mornin’, him and me were talkin’ 
 over Kansas matters, and says he, ‘Mr. Jones,’ says he, ‘shan’t I 
 tell you how to make some money to-day?’ ‘ Do,’ says I. Then, 
 says he, ‘ I’ll buy that Sharpe’s rifle of you, and give you just 
 6 
 
61 
 
 money enongh to buy you another in Kansas, and beside, will 
 give you this watch to boot.’ ” 
 
 Whereupon Jones drew from his pocket a composition watch, 
 of a kind that have never been known to vary a second in the 
 time they keep. 
 
 “ Wal, ’squarl” continued Jones, rolling his quid, “while I was 
 examinin’ the watch and thinkin’, ray friend told the bar-tender 
 to make two glasses of lemonade, and put a stick in Mr. Jones’s. 
 I had told him, ’squar, that I belonged to the Sons of Temperance 
 Society. Wal, we drank our lemonade, and talked and bargained, 
 and he said talkin’ is dry work, and told the bar-keeper to make 
 two more lemonades and put a long stick in Mr. Jones’s. I told 
 him he needn’t mind about a long stick, but stir it up with any 
 thing. Wal! arter that things got kinder confused, and I don’t 
 recollect clearly how it was. Any way, about two hours ago, the 
 bar-tender waked me up, and said I needn’t be sleepin’ there 
 all day, and on kinder cornin’ to myself, I found my friend and 
 my Sharpe’s rifle gone; but I had this watch and four new five- 
 dollar bills in my pocket. Now, ’squar, what I want to know is— 
 is that watch gold ?” 
 
 “No,” said Ptolemy, “it isn’t worth its weight in brass.” 
 
 “Jerusalem!” exclaimed Jones, “you don’t say so!” 
 
 “I do say so,” said the attorney, “and perhaps your money is 
 no better. Let’s see it.” 
 
 Jones produced from his pocket a piece of newspaper, and un¬ 
 rolling it displayed four new five-dollar bills, purporting to be of 
 a Georgetown bank, no such bank ever having had a legal exist¬ 
 ence. Ptolemy informed him that he had been regularly taken 
 in by a sharper. Jones reflected a moment, took his property, 
 and said, as he walked out, “ ’Squar, when that feller told the 
 bar-tender to put a stick in my lemonade, my ’pinion is he meant 
 brandy, and darned mean brandy, tew!” 
 
AN INDIAN TAR-TAR. 
 
 A 'N’ative American appears in the role of “Toodles.” 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Public Amusements in Chicago. 
 
 Under this head we propose to speak only of those places of 
 public amusement which are not strictly of a legitimate character; 
 which are carried on for purposes different from what appears on 
 the surface; which are, in other words, traps set to catch people 
 for their money, without conferring a single benefit in return. 
 The theaters and concerts we do not include in this catalogue; 
 although there are numerous establishments carried on under 
 these names, which certainly must be included. The most com¬ 
 mon of such are the “free concerts,” or drinking saloons, where 
 music (so called) and other entertainments of a worse character 
 are furnished gratuitously, to attract customers and induce them 
 to part from their money. These, being the most numerous class 
 of the amusements under consideration, shall receive first our 
 attention. 
 
 A satirical writer has divided the male population of Chicago 
 into two classes—1st class, those who sell lager-bier; 2d class 
 (includes class 1st), those who drink lager-bier. 
 
 There is reason to believe that nature implants in the breast of 
 every man, soon after his arrival in Chicago, a desire to know 
 what this abominable drink tastes like. Having once tasted it, 
 he cannot afterward leave it alone. He instantly becomes fired 
 with the ambition to drink sixty glasses at a sitting, this being 
 the maximum quantity which a Dutchman will hold. Ordinarily, 
 it would take considerable time to acquire the skill, dexterity and 
 ductility of paunch necessary to the accomplishment of this feat; 
 and to overcome the difficulty, various appliances are resorted to 
 as “ persuaders,” to hasten the sixty-glasses-at-a-sitting millennium 
 with inexperienced drinkers. One of the most effective of these 
 persuaders is found in practice to be the grisette. Wherefore, in 
 
64 
 
 the newspapers of this metropolis are frequently seen such adver¬ 
 tisements as the following: 
 
 W ANTED—TIDY, GOOD-LOOKING FEMALE WAITERS, 
 to wait in the Concert Hall of the Colosseum, 195 Randolph, 
 near corner of Wells-street, in the basement. Good wages will 
 be paid. 
 
 By the term grisette we mean a young woman whose position 
 in the social world is precisely analogous to that in the spiritual 
 called purgatory, which is neither heaven nor hell, but exactly 
 half way between the two. The grisette is neither an angel, as 
 all chaste, good-looking women are; nor a devil, as all unchaste, 
 good or ill-looking women try to be. She has fallen from, or 
 never occupied, the position of the one, but has not yet reached 
 that of the other. For her future, it may lie in either direction, 
 as the spirit of good or of evil prevails. It is from this class that 
 the most potent attractions of the “free concert” and “polka 
 cellar ” are drawn. 
 
 Reader, if you are a stranger in Chicago, let us assume the 
 role of an escort, and introduce you to the mysteries of one of 
 these “ free-concert saloons.” Imagine, if you please, a long, low 
 room, with a “ bar ” at one end, lager-bier barrels in the center, 
 and an eight-by-teu platform, fitted up as a stage, at the other 
 end. All about the room are placed small round tables, with beer 
 spilled over them, probably to give an appearance of neatness. 
 The fioor is not carpeted, but covered by a coating of pea-nut 
 shells and saw-dust, made into a sort of paste with tobacco-spit, 
 to the depth of an inch or more—an ingenious and economical 
 device, for which the inventer expects to obtain a patent. Al¬ 
 though the door (there are seldom any practicable windows) stands 
 wide open, there is no air, its place being ingeniously supplied by 
 tobacco smoke, fiavored with beer. 
 
 On the “stage,” two or three villainous-looking fellows, and a 
 more villainous-looking female, are making a horrid noise, and by 
 their facial and bodily contortions appear to be in great pain. A 
 friend of ours who once visited one of these places in company 
 with his friend Spriggins, was much puzzled to know what was 
 the matter, and applied to his companion for information. “ Sprig- 
 
 / 
 
65 
 
 gins,” he said to us, “informed me that they were singing. I 
 asked him if that was what he called the language of Goethe, and 
 if this was intended for a representation of Auerbach’s cellar. 
 Spriggins said he did not know, but he would try and find out 
 what language it was they were singing in. He went close up 
 to the stage and listened. I saw him take out a pocket dictionary 
 and examine it. Then he listened again, and at length came 
 back. Spriggins said he was acquainted with the German, Ital¬ 
 ian, French, Spanish, Chinese, Choctaw, Greek, and Pottowatto- 
 mie languages, but it was none of them. He thought it must be 
 the Feejee, which was supported by the fact that the singers bore 
 a striking resemblance to cannibals. Just then a pretty grisette 
 came along with a mug of lager^ and Spriggins arrested her prog¬ 
 ress with his foot, nearly tripping her up. 
 
 “Spriggins: ‘ My dear, will you be so very kind as to inform 
 me what language those vocalists are at present warbling in ?’ ” 
 
 “ Pretty grisette, with a turn-up of the nose: ‘ English, stupid 1’ ” 
 “ Spriggins reflected a moment, and quietly remarked that it 
 was very stupid English to his ear.” 
 
 From fifty to a hundred villainous, cut-throat-looking fellows 
 are drinking beer and bad whisky at the small round tables, or 
 sauntering about the room, smoking execrable cigars, and pre¬ 
 tending to listen to the performance. It is all pretense. In point 
 of fact, their chief business is to ogle the grisettes, about half a 
 dozen of whom are actively engaged in distributing lager-bier and 
 gin-cocktails, interspersed with a sly wink, now and then, to 
 some acquaintance about the room. 
 
 As the night wanes, the consumption of lager increases, until 
 one half the consumers are in that state of drowsy, blear-eyed 
 unconsciousness which this nauseous stuff produces. Those only 
 who have drank other liquor, as well as lager^ betray the ordinary 
 symptoms of drunkenness—for some hair-splitting philosophers 
 pretend that this term is not properly applicable to the stupid, 
 sodden, and foul-smelling effects produced by lager. These are 
 often quarrelsome, and it not unfrequently happens that a fight 
 occurs before the performance is over. In such cases, the doors 
 are quickly closed, to keep out the police (hardly a necessary pre¬ 
 caution, as these functionaries seldom interfere until the fight is 
 G* 
 
66 
 
 over), and the belligerent individuals are “ cleared out ” by the 
 more sober Dutchmen, with knives and pistols. Those who are 
 too drunk to move without assistance, are rolled into the street, 
 and the saloon is closed for the night. 
 
 The “polka cellar,” or, as the sign reads, “polka-kellar,” is 
 simply another variety of the same species of man-traps. In 
 these places, grisettes are employed to dance, as well as to sell 
 lager. In some of them, a stage is provided, upon which semi¬ 
 nude females display their charms to a brutish crowd of beer- 
 swillers, while a spavined piano in one comer of the room shrieks 
 out the demoniac strains of Yon Weber, and other freiheit-m^- 
 dels. In others, a portion of the room is appropriated for a 
 dancing hall, where all who enter may participate. The cost of 
 tliis is nothing, the sole object being to promote the sale and con¬ 
 sumption of lager. 
 
 There is still another variety of these beer-persuaders, though 
 much fewer in number, and mostly in obscure localities, which is 
 nothing more nor less than a “ model-artiste ” exhibition, though 
 dignified by a different name. “Living pictures,” dZa “Keller 
 troupe,” are found to be very profitable in attracting customers 
 by all the saloon-keepers who have adopted them. The “ artistes ” 
 engaged for this purpose belong mostly to the grisettes, yet not 
 unfrequently young and innocent children are trained for the pur¬ 
 pose. These exhibitions, however, are much less common than 
 those of which we have previously spoken. 
 
 Nearly every block in the city has one or more of the “ free 
 concert ” and “polka” cellar man-traps, which, in addition to the 
 attractions of uncommon music, are baited with good-looking and 
 ill-looking females, who dispense smiles and smashes, lustful looks 
 and lager-bier in about equal proportions, and all for the consider¬ 
 ation of a half-dime per glass. In these places, as soon as evening 
 sets in, scores of loafers, gamblers, pimps, pick-pockets, “fancy- 
 men,” young bloods and bloods not so young, do mainly congre¬ 
 gate, drinking liquor which they do not like, and smoking cigars 
 which would make a chimney sick at the stomach, to have some 
 excuse for hanging about, some to find victims, and others to ex¬ 
 change a word or a smile now and then with doubtful divinities in 
 crinoline. Prom the reeking theaters, the smoky billiard-rooms. 
 
67 
 
 and slippery bowling-alleys, midnight brings crowds of customers 
 of every variety, from the accomplished swindler to the merest 
 ambitious tyro who has robbed his master’s till to cut a swell 
 among folks, who talk balderdash, and soak their miserable brains 
 with beer till they are ready for any enterprise of infamy, and 
 sally out staggering up the street, to tumble senseless and swine¬ 
 like into the first hole that opens to receive them. These “free- 
 concert saloons,” beside the positive and active influences they 
 exert in brutalizing and debasing the minds of young men, are 
 the seminaries of every species of vice—the half-way houses be¬ 
 tween the first-class and the gutter, the honest servant and the 
 loathsome cyprian. Hidden from the public gaze, and removed 
 from the hruit of the street, they offer an inviting resting-place 
 where young men not quite corrupted are furnished with every 
 facility for stultifying their intellects, brutalizing their tastes, and 
 inflaming their appetites. They are the most dangerous because 
 the least ostentatious of pest-houses; and the young man who 
 commences by being enticed into them, is pretty sure to finish his 
 career in infamy and crime. 
 
 Let every young man, be he stranger or resident in Chicago, 
 avoid these places as he would avoid that pestilential valley where 
 it is said whoever enters comes not forth with life. And above 
 all, let every young woman, who values her bodily purity and 
 soul’s salvation, shun the inducements held out to entice her with¬ 
 in their damning influence, as she would shun the abode of the 
 evil one. Far better is it to beg—aye, to starve —in virtuous pov¬ 
 erty, than to risk body and soul in these half-way houses of hell I 
 
 Still more damning in character, but not more dangerous in in¬ 
 fluence, are the masqiterades which every winter are given at fre¬ 
 quent intervals in this metropolis, and to which any person, upon 
 paying the admission fee, is admitted. At these places, disreput¬ 
 able men and wanton women congregate, and the worst characters 
 in the city may be found mingling in the voluptuous mazes of the 
 dance with dry-goods clerks—whose employers have complied 
 with the “early-closing movement” to give them some time for 
 “ improving their minds ”—with fashionable roues, foolish servant- 
 girls, and careless grisettes. It is here that the courtezan and the 
 libertine resort to make new dupes, and find new victims. It is 
 
68 
 
 here, also, that the thief, the robber, and the assassin may bo 
 found, ready to ply their trades upon any favorable opportunity. 
 
 These tal masques are often given by the keepers of houses of 
 ill-fame, in connection with their male patrons, for the sole pur¬ 
 pose of attracting thereto young and foolish girls with the view 
 of reducing them to prostitution. It is without doubt one of the 
 principal means by which houses of this character are replenished. 
 Of course, the entertainment is given at some public haU, and all 
 the appurtepances are placed about it which can be, to conceal 
 the true object and give an appearance of respectability. 
 
 After such a ball, given in one of the market halls owned by 
 the city, last winter, certain parties connected with its manage¬ 
 ment were arrested upon the charge of attempting to reduce to 
 prostitution the daughter of a city officer. The evidence showed 
 that the girl, sixteen years of age, had been allowed to associate 
 with a grisette of doubtful character, who persuaded her to attend 
 the ball without obtaining parental consent, and afterward the 
 intended seducers, upon the pretext of a sleigh-ride, had taken 
 her to various houses of ill-fame, where the glitter of gaudy finery, 
 the intoxication of wine, and the converse of licentious women 
 might have their desired efiect. The result was, the girl was 
 seduced. She abandoned her parents and chose the life of infamy, 
 whose end is perdition; but with the authors of her ruin nothing 
 could be done. They had taken too good care to conceal their 
 steps, and the law was unable to trace them. 
 
 In the winter of 1851, a young man from the interior of this 
 state, happening to be in the city, and desirous of “ seeing the 
 sights,” as well as of passing away an evening, took it into his 
 head to attend a &aZ masque which was given that evening in a 
 well-known hall. He had never attended an entertainment of 
 the kind before, and there is some reason to believe he never will 
 attend one again. Paying his initiation fee at the door, he was 
 told that he must leave his arms, if he carried any, with the door¬ 
 keeper; but his astonishment at the information plainly indicated 
 that he never carried any arms, save those which nature gave him. 
 He was allowed to enter. Once within the room, his astonishment 
 was increased by witnessing the “execrable shapes” which pre¬ 
 sented themselves; for the dancers wore “ fancy dresses ” as well 
 
69 
 
 as masks. Our hero had neglected to provide himself with either, 
 wherefore he took no part in the proceedings until he saw several 
 other men who wore no masks lead forth winged Psyches and 
 tight-legged Arab boys to the dance. Being a stranger, and sup¬ 
 posing the others to be citizens, he concluded he might as well 
 take part as they, and accordingly, selecting a little duck of a 
 fairy, with dress of rather gay colors, he proceeded to solicit 
 the “honor” of her presence in a quadrille. The “honor” was 
 readily conferred; the music and the dance began. Away went 
 the countryman and the fairy, whirling, promenading, clasping 
 each other in unseemly delight. The countryman was fascin¬ 
 ated ; so elegant, so free, so affectionate a fairy it had never been 
 his fortune to meet with before. The dance ceased, and he handed 
 her to a seat. With gracious courtesy, and a ^mile, oh, how 
 sweet 1 she partially removed the enviable mask, giving our 
 countryman a view of features “ all divine”—that is, as near as 
 he could then judge. Would he not be so kind as to bring her a 
 glass of lemonade from the refreshment room? What gallant 
 cavalier would fail to execute with all prudent celerity a com¬ 
 mission given in so sweet a voice as that which fell upon the sus¬ 
 ceptible tympanum-of his pleased auricular organ? Our coun¬ 
 tryman did not. He hastened to the refreshment room and 
 ordered the lemonade. He put his hand in his pocket for the 
 wherewith to pay the charge. Consternation and horror—his 
 pocket-book was gone! Fortunately, it had contained only two 
 hundred dollars. He bethought him of his watch—it was also 
 gone! Fortunately, it was only a gold one. He hastened back 
 to where he left the fascinating fairy—she was also gone! For¬ 
 tunately, he could not find her, for if he had, most likely her 
 “fancy-man” would have given him a merciless beating. In a 
 very few minutes afterward our countryman was also gone! 
 Fortunately, he escaped without personal injury. 
 
 Sunday amusements form a distinctive feature in Chicago, 
 which is scarcely found in any other Christian city. Among the 
 infidel population, the day of rest is set apart and exclusively 
 devoted to dancing, hunting, sight-seeing, beer-drinking, theaters, 
 concerts, shows and amusements of every sort. On this day, 
 the concert-saloons, polka-cellars, and “Yolks gartens” are in 
 
70 
 
 full blast, with an increase of patronage over any other day of 
 the week. These performances, however, so far as they may be 
 distinguished from a kind of which we have already spoken, are 
 not particularly dangerous, except in the light of religion and 
 morality, to which they stand opposed in every sense. Drinking 
 and dancing, promiscuous love-making and worse, constitute the 
 chief occupations of those who attend them. 
 
 But the list of Chicago amusements would be incomplete with¬ 
 out some description of the “pleasure gardens,” which are mostly 
 situated in the suburbs, or just without the limits of the city. As 
 a specimen, we take the “ Yergnuegung’s Garten” at Holstein, a 
 small collection of cabbage-gardens, hay-stacks, barn-yards, and 
 lager-bier shops, about three and a half miles from the court¬ 
 house. It is a celebrated spot; let us not underrate its import¬ 
 ance. The soil is fertile. The principal productions are cab¬ 
 bages, tow-headed children, and a singularly unpleasant smell, 
 which we have reason to beheve proceeds from a disagreeable 
 slaughter-house in the neighborhood. Its chief imports consist 
 of lager-bier, and its exports of empty lager-bier barrels. It con¬ 
 tains a dense population of about forty, except on Sundays, when 
 the number is augmented by immigration to about four thousand. 
 On these days Holstein is visited semi-hourly by omnibus- 
 drivers bringing large loads of Teutonic ladies and gentlemen, 
 who go thither to fatigue themselves by waltzing and assist in the 
 consumption of enormous quantities of lager, under the mistaken 
 belief that these laborious pursuits constitute pleasure. 
 
 Wonder, according to that ancient philosopher, John Went¬ 
 worth, is a faculty which affords some of our sublimest enjoyments. 
 By it our veneration is often increased, rendering us more capable 
 of rehgious feelings. The first thought which suggests itself to 
 the visitor of the Holstein “ Yergnuegung’s Garten” is, “I wonder 
 why the devil this place is called a garden!” He looks in vain 
 for tree, or plant, or flower, except a few lonely cotton-woods that 
 have been brought into requisition as hitching-posts, and are 
 almost dead on account of it. He sees only a number of hay¬ 
 stacks in the distance, a stable in the middle, and a few two-story 
 booths, in the rustic style of architecture, in the foreground. 
 The latter stand within smelling distance of a kitchen, and are 
 
71 
 
 obviously a kind of stomach-persuader to promote the consump¬ 
 tion of lager. 
 
 The combined exhalations of the kitchen, the stable, and the 
 slaughter-house, render breathing an exercise of great unpleasant¬ 
 ness. A friend of ours, who visited the garden, assures us that 
 he ascertained by careful analysis that every breath a man draws 
 there is composed as follows: 
 
 Lager, 
 
 10 parts. 
 
 Bologna Sausage, - 
 
 . . 7 
 
 
 Sweitzer-casa, - 
 
 5 
 
 U 
 
 Limberger-casa, 
 
 . . 4 
 
 (( 
 
 Kitchen effluvia. 
 
 14 
 
 u 
 
 1101*80 manure. 
 
 - - 11 
 
 u 
 
 Slaughter-house, 
 
 56 
 
 u 
 
 Pure oxygen, 
 
 . . 1 
 
 100 
 
 
 Under these circumstances, it is not surprising that one who 
 has been accustomed to breathe fresh air should dislike the atmos¬ 
 phere of the place. Before leaving it, however, let us glance at 
 the lager and waltzing departments. The first is a large room 
 filled with tables and benches for the accommodation of the con¬ 
 sumers of lager. Lager is everywhere apparent to the five senses. 
 Lager to the sight, lager to the taste, lager to the touch (if you 
 liappen to sit down), lager to the smell, and dn, tswei or trei lager 
 perpetually heard from numberless Teutonic tongues; miniature 
 lakes of lager cover the tables and benches; a muddy sea of lager 
 rolls its billows on the floor; while behind a short counter, portly 
 Gambrinus stands, the lager-vending Neptune of the scene, lifting 
 high his trident—“trei glass lager!” 
 
 After drinking fourteen glasses of lager and two dozen schnitz 
 (schnitz is lager), we concluded to see the dancing. This was 
 going on in a room from which two doors opened into the lager 
 department. Through one door a stream of lager went in among 
 the dancers, and through the other a stream of empty glasses 
 came out to be refilled. The arrangement was greatly to be ad¬ 
 mired. Getting into the stream of lager, we floated into the room- 
 and there— 
 
72 
 
 We respectfully decline giving a description of the heart-rend¬ 
 ing scene, and close this chapter by advising all moral young men 
 to keep away from the Sunday pleasure gardens. 
 
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