"And now—will it be believed that, such was my infatuation in respect to play, I actually gambled with my fellow-prisoners—staking the money that had been obtained with so much difficulty to pay a lawyer to conduct my business in the Insolvents' Court! Yes—while my poor wife was sitting up nearly all night to earn a trifle with her needle or in painting maps,—while my children were dependent for their daily bread upon the exertions of their poor dying mother,—I—wretch that I was—lost the very means that were to restore me to them! When the money had all disappeared, I became like a madman, and attempted to lay violent hands upon myself. I was taken to the infirmary of the prison, where I lay delirious with fever for six weeks. At the expiration of that time I recovered; and the humanity of the governor of the gaol secured the services of a lawyer to file my petition and schedule in the Insolvents' Court. The day of hearing came; and I was discharged. But, alas! I returned to the humble lodging occupied by my family without a hope—without resources. Nevertheless, the angel Julia received me with smiles; and the children also smiled with their sickly, wan, and famished countenances. Then, in the course of a conversation which Julia endeavoured to render as little mournful as possible, I learnt that Colonel Beaumont had been persecuting her with his dishonourable offers,—that he had dogged her in her way to the prison when she went thither to see me,—that he had even intruded himself upon her in her poor dwelling of one back room! Indeed, it was only in consequence of this visit that my wife mentioned the circumstance to me at all; but so pure was her soul, that she could not keep secret from me an occurrence on which, did I hear it from stranger lips, a disagreeable construction might be placed. Ill—weak—dying as she was, she was still sweetly interesting;—and I could well understand how an unprincipled libertine might seek to possess her.
"Without allowing Julia to comprehend the full extent of the impression made upon me by this information, I vowed within myself a desperate vengeance against that man who seemed to take a delight in persecuting me and mine. But for the present the condition of my family occupied nearly all my thoughts. Poor Julia was killing herself with hard—hard toil at the needle; and the children were only the ghosts of what they were in the days of our prosperity. I was, however, fortunate enough to obtain another situation, with a salary of twenty-eight shillings a week; and for some months we lived in comparative tranquillity—if not in happiness. But Julia always had smiles for me,—smiles, too, when the worm of an insidious disease was gnawing at her heart's core. And for my part, my lord, whenever I hear the discontented husband or the insolent libertine depreciating the character of Woman, the memory of my own devoted wife instantly renders me Woman's champion;—and lost—low—wretched as I have been, I have never failed—even in the vilest pot-house in which my miseries have compelled me to seek shelter—to vindicate the sex against the aspersions of the malevolent!
"Six months after my release from prison the small-pox invaded the house in which we lodged; and so virulent was the malady, that within three weeks it carried off two of my children—the girl, who was the eldest, and the younger boy. I need not attempt to describe my own grief nor the anguish of my wife. The blow was too much for her; and she was thrown upon a sick bed. At the same time my employer failed in business; and I accordingly lost my situation. I was returning home, one evening,—very miserable after several hours' vain search for another place,—when I met a gentleman who had once been a brother-officer in the regiment in which I first served. I made known to him my deplorable situation, assuring him that both my wife and my only remaining child were at that moment lying dangerously ill, and that I was on my way home without a shilling to purchase even the necessaries of life. He said that he had no objection to serve me; and, giving me a guinea for immediate wants, desired me to call on him next day at a particular address in Jermyn Street. I hastened joyfully home, and communicated my good fortune to poor Julia. On the following morning I repaired to Jermyn Street. My friend received me cordially, and then explained his views. To my profound surprise I learnt that he was the proprietor of a common gaming-house; and his proposal was that I should receive three guineas a week for merely lounging about the play-rooms of an evening, and acting as a decoy to visitors. My situation was so desperate that I consented; and ten guineas were given me on the spot to fit myself out in a becoming manner. I returned home; and informed Julia that I had obtained the place of a night-clerk in a coach-office. She believed me: a smile played on her sickly countenance;—and she was soon afterwards able to leave her bed.
"I entered on my new employment; and all that fatal thirst for gaming which had plunged me into such depths of misery, was immediately revived. The proprietor of the hell would not of course permit his 'decoys' to play legitimately on their own account; but we were allowed to make bets with strangers in the rooms. This I did; and as the passion gained upon me, I visited other gambling-houses when my services were not required at the one where I was engaged. Thus I again plunged into that dreadful course; and my poor wife soon suspected the fatal truth. Our little girl died—thank God!—at this period. Start not when I express my gratitude to heaven that it was so; for what could have become of her during the period of utter destitution which soon after supervened? Yes, my lord: scarcely a year had passed, when I was hurled into the very depths of want and misery. I was accused of cheating my employer at the gaming-house: the imputation was as false as ever villanous lie could be;—and from that moment forth the door of every hell was closed against me. I was also unable to obtain an honest situation; and after Julia and myself had parted with all our wearing apparel, save the few things upon our backs, we were one night thrust forth into the streets—houseless beggars!
"It was in the middle of winter: the snow lay upon the ground; and the cold was intense. My poor wife—in the last stage of consumption, and with only a thin gown and a miserable rag of a shawl to cover her—clung to my arm, and even then attempted to console me. Oh! God—what an angel was that woman! We roved through the streets—for we dared not sit down on a door-step, through fear of being frozen to death! What my feelings were, it is impossible to explain. Morning—the cold wintry morning—found us dragging our weary forms along the Dover Road. We had no object in proceeding that way; but with tacit consent we seemed bent upon leaving a city where we had endured so much. At length Julia murmured in a faint tone, 'William, dearest, I cannot move a step farther!' And she sank, half fainting, upon a bank covered with snow.
"I was nearly distracted; but still she smiled—smiled, and pressed my hand tenderly, even while the ice-cold finger of Death touched her heart. I raised her in my arms:—my God! she was as light as a child—so emaciated in person and so thinly clad was she! I bore her to a neighbouring cottage, which was fortunately tenanted by kind and hospitable people, who immediately received the dying woman into their abode. The good mistress of the house gave up her bed to Julia, while her husband hastened to Blackheath for a doctor. And I, kneeling by the side of my poor wife, implored her forgiveness for all the miseries she had endured through me. 'Do not speak in that manner, my dearest William,' she said, in a faint tone, as she drew me towards her; 'for I have always loved you, and I am sure you have loved me in return. Alas! my adored husband, what is to become of you? I am going to a better world, where I shall meet our departed children: but, ah! to what sorrows, do I leave you? Oh! this is the pang which I feel upon my death-bed; and it is more than I can bear. For I love you, William, as never woman yet loved; and when I am no more, do not remember any little sufferings which you may imagine that you have caused me; for if there be any thing to forgive, God knows how sincerely I do forgive you! Think of me sometimes, William—and remember that as I have ever loved you, so would I continue to love you were I spared. But——'
"Her voice had gradually been growing fainter, and her articulation more difficult, as she uttered those loving words which Death rudely cut short. The medical man came: it was too late—all was over! Then did I throw myself upon that senseless form, and accuse myself of having broken the heart of the best of women. Oh! I thought, if I could only recall the past: if the last few years of my life could be spent over again—if my beloved wife, my little ones, and my fortune were still left to me—how different would my conduct be! But repentance was too late: the work was done—and the consummation of the task of ruin, sorrow, and death was accomplished! Wretch—wretch that I was!
"The poor people at whose cottage my wife thus breathed her last, were very kind to me. They endeavoured to solace my affliction, and insisted that I should remain with them at least until after the funeral. And if my poor Julia's remains received decent interment,—if she were spared the last ignominy of a parish funeral, which would have crowned all the sad memories that remained to me in respect to her,—it was through the benevolence of those poor people and the surgeon who had been called in.
"When I had followed the corpse of my poor wife to the grave, I returned to London; and, assuming another name, procured a humble employment in the City. Would you believe, my lord, that one who had held the rank of a Field Officer became the follower of a bailiff—a catchpole—a sort of vampire feeding itself upon the vitals of the poor and unfortunate? Yet such was my case: and even in that detestable capacity I experienced one day of unfeigned pleasure—one day of ineffable satisfaction; and that was upon being employed to arrest and convey to Whitecross Street prison my mortal enemy—Colonel Beaumont. Yes: he also was ruined by play, and overwhelmed with difficulties. And at whose suit was he captured? At that of Goldshig, the Jew! The Colonel was playing at hide-and-seek; but I tracked him out. Night and day did I pursue my inquiries until I learnt that he occupied a miserable lodging in the Old Bailey: and there was he taken. He languished for six months in prison—deserted by his friends—and compelled to receive the City allowance. Every Sunday during that period did I visit the gaol to gloat upon his miseries. At length he died in the infirmary, and was buried as a pauper!
"Shortly after that event, I lost my place through having shown some kindness to a poor family in whose house I was placed in possession under an execution; and from that time, until yesterday, my life has been a series of such miseries—such privations—such maddening afflictions, that it is most marvellous how I ever could have surmounted them. Indeed, I am astonished that suicide has not long ago terminated my wretched career. Your Highness saw how I was spurned from the door of that temple of infamy, which had absorbed a considerable part of my once ample means;—but that was not the first—no, nor the fiftieth time that, when driven to desperation, I have vainly implored succour of those who had formerly profited by my follies—my vices. In conclusion, permit me to assure your Highness that if the most heart-felt gratitude on the part of a wretch like me, be in any way a recompense for that bounty which has relieved me from the most woeful state of destitution and want,—then that reward is yours—for I am grateful—oh! God only knows how deeply grateful!"