Auriol; or, The Elixir of LifeAinsworth, William Harrison
Science
Auriol; or, The Elixir of Life
Ainsworth, William Harrison
Detective and mystery stories; Gothic fiction; Horror tales; Paranormal fiction
Entering a narrow street, guarded by posts and cross-bars, a few steps
from the crowded thoroughfare brought you into a frightful region, the
refuge, it was easy to perceive, of half the lawless characters
infesting the metropolis. The coarsest ribaldry assailed your ears, and
noisome odours afflicted your sense of smell. As you advanced, picking
your way through kennels flowing with filth, or over putrescent heaps of
rubbish and oyster-shells, all the repulsive and hideous features of the
place were displayed before you. There was something savagely
picturesque in the aspect of the place, but its features were too
loathsome to be regarded with any other feeling than disgust. The houses
looked as sordid, and as thickly crusted with the leprosy of vice, as
their tenants. Horrible habitations they were, in truth. Many of them
were without windows, and where the frames were left, brown paper or tin
supplied the place of glass; some even wanted doors, and no effort was
made to conceal the squalor within. On the contrary, it seemed to be
intruded on observation. Miserable rooms, almost destitute of furniture;
floors and walls caked with dirt, or decked with coarse flaring prints;
shameless and abandoned-looking women; children without shoes and
stockings, and with scarcely a rag to their backs: these were the chief
objects that met the view. Of men, few were visible--the majority being
out on business, it is to be presumed; but where a solitary straggler
was seen, his sinister looks and mean attire were in perfect keeping
with the spot. So thickly inhabited were these wretched dwellings, that
every chamber, from garret to cellar, swarmed with inmates. As to the
cellars, they looked like dismal caverns, which a wild beast would shun.
Clothes-lines were hung from house to house, festooned with every kind
of garment. Out of the main street branched several alleys and passages,
all displaying the same degree of misery, or, if possible, worse, and
teeming with occupants. Personal security, however, forbade any attempt
to track these labyrinths; but imagination, after the specimen afforded,
could easily picture them. It was impossible to move a step without
insult or annoyance. Every human being seemed brutalised and degraded;
and the women appeared utterly lost to decency, and made the street ring
with their cries, their quarrels, and their imprecations. It was a
positive relief to escape from this hotbed of crime to the world
without, and breathe a purer atmosphere.
Such being the aspect of the Rookery in the daytime, what must it have
been when crowded with its denizens at night! Yet at such an hour it
will now be necessary to enter its penetralia.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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