THINGS PROVE WORSE THAN WAS EXPECTED.
"And euery ioye hym is delaied,
So that within his herte affraied
A thousande tyme with one breath,
Wepende he wissheth after death,
Whan he fortune fynt aduerse."--_Gower._
"Ah, little think the gay, licentious proud,
How many pine in want, * *
* * * how many drink the cup
Of baleful grief, and eat the bitter bread
Of misery!"
Never in my life, in any place, or under any circumstances, had I
before entered a human abode of such perfect and entire destitution as
that of poor Wheelwright! It was a wretched apology for a house, at
best, containing two stories, of two rooms upon a floor each. The upper
apartments were occupied by several poor Irish families. The front room
below had been Wheelwright's workshop, and the family lived in the room
back of it. Both looked as though they had been swept and garnished by
the hand of Famine herself. Not a single article of furniture, of any
description, was left! Crouched over two short brands,--the remains of
a couple of sticks of wood which a poor neighbor had given them the day
before,--were Wheelwright and his wife, shivering with cold. In one
corner of the room lay two or three bushels of chopped straw, in which
they slept. Not a bed, nor a blanket, nor a chair, nor any article or
utensil of furniture whatsoever, had been left; all, all, was in the
hands of the remorseless pawn-brokers, as the sufferers showed me by
their certificates--pawned, too, for such pitiful sums as at once
attested the oppressive and disgraceful system of avarice upon which
those establishments are conducted. The storm yet howled fearfully
without, and the hard particles of indurated snow were sifting through
the interstices of the crazy building. The eye of man has seldom rested
upon such a scene of stern and unmitigated poverty. Shylock or Sir
Giles Overreach--aye!--any body but a pawn-broker--would have melted
into tears at the spectacle. The children, almost naked, had just been
taken to the fire-side of a poor Irish neighbor, to keep their benumbed
bodies from freezing to the heart. I was appalled for the moment, as I
gazed about upon this unexampled picture of destitution. Before me,
seated on his haunches upon the hearth, was poor Wheelwright, resting
his chin upon his hand,--and "the woman"--unfortunately his wife--by
his side. He was moody--broken--crushed!
"Well!" he exclaimed, as I approached the forlorn couple--"you see what
I have come to!"
I saw the state of the case--the cause, and the effect--at a
glance--"THAT WOMAN!"--as he had denominated her with such emphasis in
the morning. In good sooth, I liked her not. She looked hale and
hearty, notwithstanding their destitution--was ragged, and none of the
neatest in her person.
I entered into conversation with her, and soon discovered that she had
both a sharp, and, if necessary, an artful tongue of her own. I
remarked that she appeared to be in good health, and might, I should
have supposed, do something with her needle toward the supply of their
pressing necessities. But her excuses were many, and were uttered with
genuine Irish eloquence and volubility. The principal of these,
however, were, that, what with taking care of her poor dear husband's
wounded hand, and looking after the _childer_, she had not time, and
could get nothing to do besides.
"Indeed, your honor," said she, "and sure we had everything that was
dacent about us, and were quite happy and comfortable, considering,
until my poor dear husband--God bless him, your worship!--kilt his
hand, and I don't know where is like to be the end of it."
"But," I remarked, "surely, Mrs. Wheelwright, you could have found time
to do a little something--if no more than to buy a loaf of bread and a
few coals now and then, to mitigate your sufferings."
"Fait, your honor"--for if the woman had ever lost any portion of the
peculiar _patois_ of her own country, while living in Paris as a
_femme de chambre_, or with Capt. Scarlett as a mistress, it had
all returned with her more recent associations, and she was now a pure
Emerald--"fait, your honor," said she, "and how could I be afther
laving the poor body in his distress to go out afther work, when I love
him above the world and all that's in it? And then, your worship, I'd
no clothes that was dacent to go out in, and to go to jontlemen's
houses with such tatters as these, Mr. Wheelwright, says I, it would
not do by any manner of means, says I. And that's the rights of it from
end to end, if your worship will ounly hear to me."
Wheelwright himself was evidently bowed down by the severity of his
wants and the depth of his degradation.
If moral energy had ever been one of his characteristics, it was quite
clear that its fire had long since been extinguished; and more than
all, it was equally evident that he was the object of domestic tyranny.
But he uttered no complaint, and indeed scarcely opened his lips,
unless in reply to the interrogations put to him.
My first business was to rescue the unhappy sufferers from immediate
want. Had the woman alone been concerned, my solicitude would have been
hardly discernible. But whatever had been the defects in the character
of Wheelwright, or the errors which, for the most part, were the
consequence, the wide contrast between his present and past condition
was truly affecting. For his indiscretions, never involving moral
obliquity, he had most grievously answered. And, besides, was he not "a
man and a brother!" There is no more charitable people in the world
than those of New-York. Let any case of distress be presented--any call
of real suffering--which has actually been ascertained, and is vouched
for by a respectable citizen, the hearts of the New-Yorkers will
instantly respond to the appeal. Two or three hours of active exertion,
therefore, enabled me to obtain the means, and procure all the supplies
actually necessary; and in three days' time Wheelwright and his family
were comfortably furnished with bedding, clothing, fuel, and provisions
for the residue of the season of snows.
The next measure resolved upon, was the redemption of Wheelwright's
tools and other articles of furniture, clothing, &c., from the hands of
the pawn-brokers, for which purpose he accompanied me. The object was
accomplished after no little trouble, in visiting the principal
establishments doing business under the beautiful sign of the three
golden balls, in Chatham-street, and redeeming one or two articles
here, another there, and a third or fourth somewhere else. But although
this part of the labor was an irksome job, attended by scenes and
objects of a description exceedingly painful, yet I was enabled to read
some dark pages in the book of human nature, which will never be
forgotten.
I had previously imbibed a strong prejudice against those receptacles
of the goods, new and old, of the poor, the miserable, and the vicious.
I had been told of the system of universal cheatery upon which they
practised, and the enormous exactions made in grinding the faces of the
poor. I had heard described their dexterity in the substitution of
colored glass and crystals, for gems, while pretending to examine
articles of the latter description brought for pledges, and was
prepared to encounter all that was sinister and heartless. But the
one-half had not been told me, and I soon found that my previous
conceptions fell far short of the reality. As I have already remarked,
I had occasion to visit several of them, and was detained at each, by
the delays in finding the articles of which I was in search, and for
which the holders had doubtless flattered themselves no inquiries would
ever be made. The press of business at all, was another cause of delay.
It really seemed in my eyes the most fraudulent and oppressive business
in which man could engage. As I recovered Wheelwright's articles, one
by one, it appeared at once that the most outrageous system of
extortion had been practised in every instance. The sums advanced had
been pitiful in amount, and the rates of interest charged exorbitant
beyond belief. O how does avarice harden the heart, and dry up the
current of human sympathy! How lamentable this accursed thirst for gold!
"Wide, wasting pest! that rages unconfined,
And crowds with crimes the records of mankind.
For gold, his sword the hireling ruffian draws;
For gold, the hireling judge distorts the laws;
Wealth heap'd on wealth, nor truth, nor safety buys;
And dangers gather as the treasures rise."
And at every one of these dens, what a crowd of victims were collected!
"A motley company indeed--black-legs, and would-be-gentlemen--the
cheater and the cheated." The widow parting with her last trinkets, or,
perchance, her last disposable article of dress, to procure one more
meal for her famishing children! A poor consumptive girl, with the
hectic flush upon her wasting cheek, applying for the same purpose; and
the griping miser--very likely a woman too!--without a spark of
generosity, or an emotion of pity--reading the condition of the
sufferers from their countenances, with the coolest imaginable
calculation--thus ascertaining from their looks the urgency of their
respective cases, that the utmost possible advantage might be taken,
and the intended cheat be made the greater. The pick-pocket, moreover,
the thief, and the purloining servant, received with equal readiness,
and the spoils divided between them, with the fullest understanding
that no questions were to be asked! O 'tis monstrous! "The offence is
rank, and smells to heaven!"
But my visits to these establishments were fruitful of incidents, the
recollection of which is too vivid to be passed lightly over. And as
the present chapter is already of sufficient length, it is proposed to
appropriate a separate one as a record of some of those
reminiscences--one of which may better suffice as a temperance lecture,
than a sermon, while another may perhaps interest the reader from its
aspect of romance. If the reader chooses, he can pass it over
altogether.