Part 15 (1/2)
Landladies are the object of the especial attentions of swindlers, and suffer very much from them. All sorts of expedients are resorted to by the unprincipled to live without paying their board.
A FAs.h.i.+ONABLE SWINDLER.
Last winter a ”gentleman” called upon a lady who presides over a fas.h.i.+onable boarding-house in Lexington avenue, and introducing himself as William Aspinwall, of the ”Howland and Aspinwall branch,” obtained a room on the second floor. This apartment he occupied for three weeks, constantly ”promising” the lady of the house money, but as constantly ”being disappointed in his remittances from his friends, but if the lady would wait but a day or two longer he would apply, if his remittances did not arrive, in person to Mr. Aspinwall and obtain a thousand or two.” At last, one day this pretended scion of the Aspinwalls vanished, leaving his trunk behind him, which, upon examination, was found to be very full and very heavy indeed, but with bricks and rags only. All Mr. Aspinwall's wardrobe being carried on his precious person. A letter was found, however, which proved that his real name was Charles H, or at least that he had been known at times by that t.i.tle.
A SHARP GAME.
A man calling himself Doctor Thorne is frequently seen in the city boarding houses. He is a married man, which fact, of course, makes him all the more dangerous to his victims, as he contrives to support at their expense not only himself, but his wife and children. The Doctor is a burly, heavily-bearded gentleman (at least in manner); his wife, a more accomplished Jeremy Diddler than himself, is one of the softest- spoken and most amiably-seeming of her s.e.x. The Doctor plays his little game as follows: He obtains first-cla.s.s rooms at first cla.s.s prices, pledging as security for the payment of these prices a large a.s.sortment of really valuable baggage in the line of clothes and linens. Having taken possession of his rooms he is, after a week's time, suddenly called by business to Chicago or St. Louis; he will settle the little balance due on his return. He accordingly departs, but not to St.
Louis, or Chicago--oh, dear, no. He understands a trick worth two of that. He simply hires a little room in a retired street at the lowest possible rent, and there resides. His wife and children--two boys, one aged ten, the other twelve, and both very ”smart”--take him his meals daily, in a basket, in their pocket, or by other means, as the case may be, the meals being furnished unwittingly by the victimized landlady with whom his family are sojourning. But more than meals are taken from the boarding house. The baggage is also taken away, piece after piece, secretly, and conveyed to the little room where the ”head and father”
of this interesting family resides. So one day, after an unaccountable absence of Dr. Thorne from home, and after the receipt by his wife of daily letters from her husband, but no money, though money is always expected by the next mail, the whole family disappear, one by one, and never return. The landlady congratulates herself upon the fact that she retains at least the baggage--but alas, upon an examination she finds that nothing is left her in lieu of the month's board for three people and a week's board for the fourth, saving some empty trunks. For a few days subsequent to this denouement, Dr. Thorne and family live in retirement. Then they boldly emerge and repeat the same series of operations in other localities of this much beswindled city.
A TRIO OF FEMALE SWINDLERS.
About twelve-month since, an old widow lady opened a boarding-house on University place, investing in the establishment and furniture all her capital. She experienced no difficulty in obtaining boarders, and among her guests she numbered a small-sized, full-faced, but keen-eyed woman by the name of Agnes S. who rented a large room on the second floor.
This Mrs. S. exhausted all her wiles to gain the friends.h.i.+p of the landlady, and succeeded in so doing. In a short time, she became the inseparable companion and intimate of the old widow, who never took any step of importance without first consulting her dear Agnes. The ”dear Agnes” improved her intimacy and played her cards so well, that although she never paid her board, she was never requested to do so, and thus enjoyed the unenviable advantage of being enabled to live rent free. Having accomplished her first object, she now undertook to achieve her second. One day she sought the widow, and in a fit of gus.h.i.+ngly-tender confidence revealed to her sympathizing friend her heart history; she told the widow that although pa.s.sing for a maiden, she was in reality a married woman--but that her husband had been obliged to conceal himself from the gaze of the public owing to some 'unfortunate' business transactions in which he had been involved, solely for the sake of his brother out West.
Would she (the widow) not receive that husband, for her sake into the house? Would she not consent to harbor the poor unfortunate partner of her bosom beneath her roof until the matter had blown over? The doting widow agreed to this proposal, and thus Agnes S. and her 'husband' (who was in reality no more her husband than any man who reads this) were united, and lived for several weeks in luxury at the widow's expense; although great scandal arose among her boarders concerning the matter, and several of her 'best paying lodgers' left in consequence of these 'developments.' At last the widow was taken sick, and then 'having cast her bread upon the waters, she found it after many days,' and found it 'toasted.' From the hour of her taking to her bed, 'Agnes S. and husband' ruled the house. The worthy pair run the establishment, hired and discharged the servants, acted as steward and stewardess, and not only so, but absolutely made out the weekly bills and collected them; and not only collected them, but put the money into their own pockets.
”Last Thursday week the matter culminated by the sudden departure of Agnes S. and husband from the house in University place to unknown localities. Their 'little game' was effectually 'played out,' and the landlady at last recovered her health and common sense. But the adventurous birds had feathered their nests, and have only subsided for a while, to resume, in all probability, their 'genteel swindles' in some other city, or perhaps only in another portion of this very metropolis.”
”The second of these worthies we shall call Mrs. Adelle Garnier. She is a stout creature, but endowed with a large share of good looks and dignity of manner. She has for years past resided in fas.h.i.+onable hotels, and has contrived to live on her 'face' in more senses than one. She is specially noticeable for three facts which have been abundantly exemplified in her career. First, she is a remarkably well educated woman, an accomplished linguist, speaking fluently, French, German and Italian, a skilled performer on the piano, and thoroughly versed in the literature of the day. Second, she has always exhibited a dislike, amounting almost to horror, of matrimony; and although she has, during her eventful history, received several advantageous offers of marriage, has declined them all, objecting decidedly to having her personal movements restrained in any degree by the will of any being on earth, not even a husband. Third, and last, and most remarkable of all, spite of her education and talent, spite of her matrimonial chances, she has steadily persisted in a course of life which has subjected her constantly to a long series of indignities, apparently preferring a wild, careless, lawless and scandalous Bohemianism to the sober routine and conventional demands of a modern lady's _ordinary_ existence. Her last 'adventure' occurred some few weeks since at a Broadway hotel, from which she was expelled at a very short notice by the proprietors in presence of a number of the guests. It is presumed that at present she is almost penniless, though no one can safely predicate at what place or in what guise she may appear hereafter. For an adventurer, like a cat, has nine lives.”
”The third, Miss Alice Mauley, is a pet.i.te blonde of fascinating manners, with large blue eyes, and a luxuriant wealth of hair. Alice has been a 'pilgrim and a stranger' in the cities of Philadelphia, Boston, Baltimore and St. Louis, since her sixteenth year, and has 'enjoyed' the privilege of a large circle of acquaintance--the police of these cities included. Her mode of life verges on the 'sentimental,'
and her peculiar _forte_ is entrapping the affections of 'young bloods.' She cares not for 'love,' so-called, and is, in herself, chaste and irreproachable in _morale_; but she devotes her energies to procuring all the money, jewelry, diamonds and presents she can obtain from her 'enamored ones' prior to their 'proposals for her hand.' She, then, 'astonished at their mistaken presumption,' leaves them to regret their folly, but never by any chance returns their presents. She recently and seriously 'compromised' the prospects of the only son and heir of a wealthy merchant of the metropolis, from whom she obtained some ten thousand dollars worth of 'tokens' and 'souvenirs.' But, owing to the exertions and worldly ac.u.men of the young fool's papa, she has been obliged to leave New York, and has within the last few days been heard of from Cincinnati.”
CHAPTER XXI.
TRINITY PARISH.
Trinity Parish was laid off in 1697. The first church was a plain, square edifice, with an ugly steeple, in which were conducted the first services of the Church of England in New York. The site is now occupied by a magnificent Cathedral, the most beautiful church edifice in the city.
The parish extends over a large part of New York. It includes the following churches, or chapels, as they are called: St. Paul's, St.
John's, Trinity Chapel, and Trinity Church. It is in charge of a Rector, who is a sort of small bishop in this little diocese. He has eight a.s.sistants. Each church or chapel has its pastor, who is subject to the supervision of the Rector. The Rev. Morgan Dix, D. D., a son of the American Minister to France, is the present Rector.
Trinity takes good care of its clergy. The salaries are amply sufficient to insure a comfortable support, and a well-furnished house is provided for each one who has a family. Should a clergyman become superannuated in the service of the Parish, he is liberally maintained during his life; and should he die in his ministry, provision is made for his family.
The wealth of the parish is immense. It is variously stated at from sixty to one hundred millions of dollars. It is chiefly in real estate, the leases of which yield an immense revenue.
TRINITY CHURCH.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Trinity Church.]