PE 
 
 LIFE, CHARACTER 
 
 AND 
 
 THE 
 
 Official Account of bts Jfatlj, bg bis 3Utcitimtg 
 JOHN J. MORAN, M. D. 
 
 WILLIAM F. BOOGHER, PUBLISHER 
 1331 F STREET, WASHINGTON, D. C. 
 1885. 
 
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 PUBLISHETj BY W.F.BOOGHER. 
 
MRS. SAKAH K. SIIKLTON. 
 
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 jUT for the cruel aspersioji8U|)on the character and 
 life of America s poetic genius, EDGAR ALLAN 
 POB, this volume would have remained unwritten. 
 KDUAR ALLAN POE has been more misunderstood 
 
 v 
 
 than any other poet of the recent past. While his life 
 was beautiful and inspired, yet aspersed, his last moments 
 had more of sublimity than those of any of his contem 
 poraries. The author of gems so delicate as " Annabel 
 Lee," "The Raven, and "Lenore/ while no less 
 human and frail than others of his day, had a soul and 
 heart that stamped him an offshoot of Divinity. In 
 order that the story of POE S life and his last hours may 
 be corrected and the truth made known, the following 
 pages have been received from his learned physician, 
 Dr John .1. Monin, who attended him in his last hours 
 and who received from the expiring poet his dying 
 declarations, with a brief history of his life. This full 
 and complete statement will, for the first time, be given 
 with the hope and belief of the publisher that the truth, 
 so long delayed, will meet with sympathy and kind 
 ness from an impartial and discerning public, will dis 
 miss the false impressions that have been made upon the 
 mind of his friends, will triumph over envy, error and 
 falsehood, and the pure stream of POE S genius will 
 flow on and on forever. 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 FRONTISPIECE KDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 THE HOSPITAL IN WHICH POE DIED, 19 
 
 THE RAVEN PERCHED ON THE BUST OF PALLAS, 
 
 THE BELLS, .75 
 
HL-L-HN Pee. 
 
 ^HIRTY-FJVE years have elapsed since 
 the death of EDGAR ALLAN Pot:. Much 
 has been said and written in relation 
 to this singular and most remarkable 
 of all our poets, whose life has been an enig 
 ma to the world and whose death a mystery. 
 The nature of his disease and how he died, 
 up to the present day, remains a matter of 
 doubt except so far as have been gathered 
 from a few brief voluntary publications 
 made by his physician. The many false 
 charges that have been made and published, 
 and distorted accounts that have been re 
 ceived as truth, have been translated into 
 several languages: and, as Mrs. Whitman 
 Has said, in her exceedingly clear and clever 
 little work, Poe ami ///.s ( ritics, "for ten years 
 the great wrong done to POE by his tirst 
 biographer, Rufus W. (Iriswold, was suffered 
 to pass by unchallenged and unrebuked." 
 This was true to a great extent, yet there 
 were found two gentlemen, one of whom 
 
10 EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 knew him well, Mr. George E. Graham, of 
 New York, and Mr. John H. Ingram, of 
 London, who at a very early day after his 
 death (Mr. Graham in 1850, and Mr. Ingram 
 a few years later), wrote and published the 
 most forcible defense that has yet been made, 
 which with Mrs. Whitman s Poe und Iti* Crit- 
 ics, have so uncovered the falsity of Griswold s 
 account of FOE S life that few if any are now 
 left to give it a place in their thoughts or 
 memory. This defense, however, was too 
 long delayed: the mind of the Kuropean 
 world became impressed with the idea that 
 the charges preferred by Griswold were true, 
 as they remained unanswered. 
 
 It was in 1ST;"), when efforts were being 
 made by ladies and gentlemen of Baltimore 
 City (MissS. S. Rice most prominent among 
 the ladies) to procure a monument to FOE S 
 memory, that I was called upon, for the first 
 time since his death, to give the date of his de 
 cease and the hour he died, as the monument 
 was ready for the inscription. At the same 
 time I was asked to give any incidents con 
 nected with his death, that they might be 
 used at the dedication. Thus twenty-six 
 years after his death had passed ere I was 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE. 11 
 
 called upon or questioned relative to the de 
 ceased poet. Without vanity permit me to 
 say I firmly believe that had they called 
 upon me for statements as to when he died, I 
 could have been instrumental in preventing 
 his dear Muddied Mrs. Maria Clemm, and 
 his dear affianced, Mrs. Shelton, his first love. 
 his "Annabel Lee, 7 from the sore afflictions 
 and trials and the heart-burnings that fell 
 to their lot, and which in silence they en 
 dured. His affianced, Mrs. Shelton, wrote to 
 me four days after his death, inquiring par 
 ticularly and specifically as to ho\v he died. 
 the nature of his disease, and the cause. I 
 at once replied, telling her exactly his con 
 dition, giving direct answers to her several 
 questions, and wrote that he was as well 
 cared for and as tenderly and faithfully 
 nursed as he could have been by his own 
 dear friend: that he received every attention 
 at the hands of one of the professors of the 
 faculty, in connection with myself, and all 
 had been done that was possible for his best 
 good, and that I had sent the messages left 
 for loving friends. 
 
 In a tew days I received an answer reply 
 ing in these words: 
 
12 EDGAR ALLAN FOE. 
 
 I>i;\i; Sn;: 1 must apoioui/.e to you for having addressed a ovntleman 
 whom I had never seen and did not know. Mr. Poc was jnore to me 
 than any other living l>eiu,n - , and I write to yon to learn from you, 
 as hi> phvsieian. everv particular in regard to his illness, disease and 
 death, and how lie died, whether conscious at anv lime previous to his 
 demise or not. 
 
 As a reason for desiring- to be well informed 
 upon these points, she said that 
 
 lli> enemy. hi> first biographer. IJev. Hufus \\ . (iriswold. had 
 published in /A//yV/- .\ Monthly Mij^r.iiii an article relating to his 
 death, which I knew to he untrue, and 1 wished to he- ahle publicly to 
 denv the siine ovei 1 inv own signature. 
 
 She Curt her states: 
 
 1 knew that M r. I 01: did not die drunk and t hat he was not a drunkard. 
 
 She lilted me to <;vt tlie ina^axine and see 
 the article for myself. I did so. The article 
 ran thus: 
 
 KIX.AI; ALLAN POM is dead. Thousands will hear of it. hut none- will 
 regret it. He died in an unknown, out-of-the-way hospital in the city 
 of Baltimore, in a lit of delirium trcmens, 
 
 Her predictions were true to the letter, as 
 you will learn further on in this memoir. 
 His death occurred on October 7th, 184^. 
 These letters were written, received, and an 
 swered inside of three weeks after Iris death. 
 This lady who took such interest in Mr. POE 
 was his affianced the second time, and was 
 living at her home in Richmond, Va., last 
 June twelve months ago. I paid her a visit, 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE, 13 
 
 the particulars of which will be found in this 
 volume. Time speeds on and I repeat that 
 thirty-five yA^i^Ji^w4^pi^^rl r ^.n/l at this Iflte 
 Jjgriod I am invited and urged to make known 
 the facts so long desired in reference to his 
 death. I am grateful to a kind Pmvidi 
 for having spared me to give the positive facts 
 and unfold to the public mind much that has 
 not been made known, and I hope to remove 
 all doubt in respect to the uncertainty which 
 has so long surrounded this part of POE S 
 history and life. 1 now proclaim to the 
 world that he has been shamefully abused 
 and misrepresented, that the habit of intem 
 perance, which to some extent did cling to 
 him in his earlier history, did not continue 
 with him in his more mature life, and that 
 what I shall record, shall he a true, unvar 
 nished story from personal intercourse for 
 sixteen hours during his last illness, from his 
 death-bed statements, from information re 
 ceived elsewhere, and from near and dear 
 friends, those who knew him and loved him. 
 It was my sad duty as his physician to sit 
 by his death-bed; to administer the cup of 
 consolation ; to moisten his parched lips ; to 
 wipe the cold death-dew from his brow; and 
 
 
14 EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 to catch the last whispered articulations that 
 tVIl from the lips of a being, the most re 
 markable, perhaps, this country has ever 
 known. Let me entreat your thoughtful 
 attention, therefore, to a plain, unvarnished 
 story of a checkered life, and the strange and 
 melancholy events that darkened the last 
 hours of a dying genius. There is no heart 
 so dead to human sympathy as not to feel 
 some dcgive of interest in the deceased poet, 
 whose wonderful gifts have long been ac 
 knowledged, not only in this country, but 
 wherever polite literature is known, and in 
 regard to whose death so many incredible 
 stories have been told, and so many absurd 
 and cruel misstatements have been made. 
 Some, indeed, are left who feel for him in 
 the highest degree. Some are not here, but 
 elsewhere, who feel with an intensity un 
 known to earth, but realized only in the 
 bright realms above, where the father s 
 prayer and the mother s tears have touched 
 the Mighty Heart whose throbbings move 
 the universe. 
 
 It is proper that I should state that the 
 work I have undertaken, at the earnest en 
 treaties of his numerous friends, is not of my 
 
EDGAR ALLAN P( >K, 15 
 
 seeking, profoundly impressed as I have 
 been by the conviction of duty I owe to the 
 memory of the deceased and to his numerous 
 friends as well. Yet I was reluctant in yield 
 ing my consent to undertake so responsible 
 a task. But now, after frequent appeals 
 made to me from time to time by many of 
 the leading journalists and literary men of 
 this country, and by earnest, sympathizing 
 ladies, whose sensitive hearts are ever touch 
 ed by human misfortune, and who are 
 always in advance of the sterner sex, I am 
 persuaded that I should lend my feeble aid 
 as a witness to the truth, and refute the foul 
 accusations cast upon the memory of POE, 
 and repel the vile slanders respecting his 
 death. The time has come when every fact 
 and incident of his remarkable career should 
 be made known. But of all these entreaties, 
 none have done more to determine my pur 
 pose than those of the lady to whom he was 
 affianced, and his dear mother-in-law, Mrs. 
 Maria Clemm, These appeals, made years 
 ago, have never lost their influence, though 
 seemingly unheeded in the lapse of time. 
 They come back to me with renewed force, 
 especially since the interest manifested in 
 
16 EDGAR ALLAN POE, 
 
 New York, a few years ago, by friends whose 
 admiration of the poet led them to under 
 take the erection of a suitable monument to 
 perpetuate the memory of this wonderful 
 genius. 
 
 All praise to the names of Gill, Winter, 
 Campbell, Abbey, Palmer, Stoddard, and 
 others in New York, and to Dr. Elmer E. 
 Reynolds, of Washington City, and others ; 
 but 1 accord equal commendation to the 
 generous and sympathizing ladies who have 
 jointly and heartily united their efforts to 
 accomplish what the men alone could not do. 
 
 All praise to Madame Dion Boucicault, 
 Madame Phillips, Mrs. Belle w, Mrs. Crosby, 
 Mrs. Coleman, Mrs. Dalilgren, Mrs. Wrn. 
 Astor, and others. 
 
 Lo \\KI.L, March _?, 1850, 
 DK. JOHN .1. MOHAN. 
 
 DKAR SIR: I think you will pardon the liberty I t:iko in again writing 
 to you. But iirst permit me to most gratefully thank you for your kind 
 letter relative to the death of my beloved (son) K. A. POJ;. In Novem 
 ber last I received a letter from Xeilson Poe, saying that you had placed 
 in his possession my son s trunk, and asking me in what way he was to 
 dispose of it. I instantly replied to him requesting him to send it on to 
 me, that / a/one had miy claim to it. 1 was anxious to receive it, as the 
 publishers of my son s work are constantly writing to me for the lectures 
 and other papers which, we all think, must have been in his trunk. At 
 all events procure from him my darling Kddic s letter to myself, which 
 I s-nt to him to convince him that I was entitled to the trunk, and 
 them to me. for they are a thousand times more precious to rue 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE, 17 
 
 . han ru&ies. Will you do this great favor for me? Have you seen the 
 March number of Graham s Magazine ? If not, do get it and read the 
 noble defense of my son by Mr. Graham. I shall be most anxious for 
 your reply ; and may God bless you for soothing the dying hours of my 
 o\vn precious Kddie. Most gratefully, M MM A CU:MM. 
 
 I repeat the language of Mrs. Clemm. One 
 of her letters to me opens with these words : 
 "May God bless you for soothing the dying 
 hours of my precious Eddie." Then she 
 urges me to accept two of his letters written 
 to her, that I might use them in his defense. 
 These two letters were sent to her just before 
 his death. "Use them," she writes, "in de 
 fense of his character and name ; they testify 
 the truth ; they are to me a thousand times 
 more precious than rubies." The tear-stained 
 letter which was written to me shortly after 
 his death is with me now upon my person, 
 as a talisman and shield for my defense in 
 this conflict with his enemies and accusers, 
 many of whom are able writers and journal 
 ists of the present day. They have written 
 without a knowledge of the facts, thereby 
 doing great injustice to his memory. Her 
 appeals have stirred my soul to its deepest 
 depth, and given me a longing desire to do 
 what I could, even at this late day, to relieve 
 the public mind of the false impressions 
 
18 EDGAR ALLAN .I OK. 
 
 made regarding POK S habits of life; how he 
 died, the nature of his death, his true condi 
 tion at that period, and to give the parting 
 words uttered in the last moments of his 
 life. I do not design to arraign any writer, 
 nor to prefer charges against biographers. 
 I have been somewhat reflected upon by at 
 least one of these, in regard to my. knowl 
 edge of mental diseases, and especially that 
 class of subjects who suffer from intemper 
 ance and frequent debauches. 
 
 The hospital in which the poet died has 
 been questioned as to its standing and char 
 acter. My professional experience has been 
 assailed, my veracity and even my own 
 identity have been disputed. You will not 
 accuse me of egotism or self-praise. As a 
 stranger to you, you have a right to demand 
 and to know who I am, whether I held the 
 position of resident physician at the Wash 
 ington University Hospital in the city of 
 Baltimore, where the poet died; whether he 
 died in my charge, and what was the char 
 acter of the institution named. Concerning 
 an oft-repeated slander, I here affirm that 
 EDGAR ALLAN POE did not die under the in 
 fluence of any kind of intoxicating drink. 
 
- 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE. 21 
 
 Eemembering the mother s blessing, and the 
 tears and entreaties of the broken-hearted 
 affianced, Mrs. Sarah E. Shelton, who yet 
 lives, and who said to me a few months ago, 
 at her home in Richmond, "I would have 
 gone down to my grave in the firm belief 
 that MR. POE did not and could not have died 
 a drunkard or from drink." I now under 
 take to make good this declaration. 
 
 The hospital in which POE died was second 
 to none in Baltimore as to size, comforts and 
 location. It was known for many years as 
 the Wushhujtou College Unim-Kity Hospital, in 
 which hundreds of students daily traversed 
 its wards, receiving instruction at the bedside 
 of patients from able professors of the fac 
 ulty. It contained two hundred beds, and had 
 seldom less than one hundred and fifty 
 patients, whose names were on the hospital 
 record. I have the honor to say that I con 
 ducted and controlled this institution for six 
 years as resident physician, living with my 
 family on the premises. I had the entire 
 charge and responsibility of house and pa 
 tients, including United States sailors, a por 
 tion of the hospital being set apart for this 
 class of patients, who were sent there by or 
 der of the Government. 
 
22 EDGAR ALLAN POE, 
 
 Just after the death of EDGAR ALLAN 
 POE, before the lifeless corpse had become 
 cold in the grave, an enemy, an avowed 
 <n td personal enemy, and who became 
 his administrator and was his first biogra 
 pher, made haste to write and publish the 
 foul calumny and falsehood that EDGAR 
 ALLAN POE died from delirium tremens at 
 some unknown and out-of-the-way lioxpitul in 
 Baltimore City, and which Mr. George Gra 
 ham pronounced "an immortal infamy" and 
 declared it to be dastardly and false, and 
 "nothing but the fancy sketch of a perverted, 
 jaundiced vision;" and strange to say this 
 man s work, Griswold s Memoir of Edgar 
 Allan Poe, though repeatedly denied upon 
 the best authority, continued to be much 
 sought after, and its poisonous effects are yet 
 seen and felt on both continents. 
 
 I have entwd upon this work fully pre- 
 I Kired, with living testimony, legally indorsed, 
 in proof of all that I shall say in relation to 
 the life, character, and death of the poet. 
 I am frank to acknowledge that much that 
 I shall say will not be new in regard to his 
 family history. I shall repeat much that 
 has been written by able writers, but I de- 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE, 23 
 
 sire, and shall endeavor to give credit to 
 such authorities as I shall quote, and hope to 
 introduce many facts and incidents that 
 have not been generally known. I have in 
 my possession much that will be publicly 
 made known for the first time. These come 
 from the nearest relatives, given to me by 
 those who were nearest and dearest to him, 
 and from one who loved him as she did her 
 own life. 
 
 Mr. David Foe, the great grandfather of 
 EDGAR ALLAN POE, with his family resided 
 in Baltimore and was engaged in mercan 
 tile business. During the Kevolution Mr. 
 David Poe became a deputy quartermaster 
 of the Maryland line, and had often been 
 called Major and sometimes General Poe. 
 He occupied for his quartermaster s office a 
 part of the old building on Baltimore street, 
 near Charles, which was, a few years ago, 
 occupied by Armstrong, Cater & Co. The 
 building was owned by Poe, and it was at this 
 office that he received General Lafayette. 
 Count Rocliantbeau, Count DeGrruxse and other 
 French officers. When the troops of our revo 
 lutionary ally, General Lafayette, were in this 
 vicinity, long after the French had departed. 
 
24 EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 cuirasses or breast-plates of metal and bridle- 
 bits of lignum-vitae wood were found in the 
 cellars of the buildings, and were prized as 
 souvenirs of the war. In this connection it 
 may be interesting, as a scrap of history con 
 nected with the Poe family, to state that in 
 X ties Register, October 23, 1824, is recorded a 
 visit of the nation s guest, General Lafayette, 
 to Baltimore, in which the following grateful 
 remembrance appears : 
 
 After an introduction of the surviving oflic.ers and soldiers of the 
 Revolution who resided in and near Halt inn ire to the < ieneral, lie observed 
 to one of the .uvntleinen present, " I have not yet seen, among these 
 gentlemen, my friendly and patriotic commissary? The (ieneral was 
 informed that Mr. David Poe was then dead, but his widow was still living. 
 He expressed an anxious wish to see her. Said the (ieneral: "Mr. 
 David Poe, who resided in IJaltimore when 1 was here, had, out of his 
 own very limited means, supplied me with five hundred dollars to aid 
 in clothing my troops, and his ?. //< , with her own /minis, cut on/ 500 
 pairs of pantaloons, and superintended the making of tlieni for I lie use of mv 
 men ." 
 
 The Register further states that when the 
 good old lady heard the intelligence she shed 
 tears of joy, and the next day was visited by 
 tli<> (re HP r(i -I, whom sit e most gladly received, and 
 the rlsit vw.s most <j rate-fully appreciated, &c. 
 The General, on his visit to Mrs. Poe, was 
 escorted by a company of horse, and spoke 
 in grateful terms of the kind and friendly 
 assistance he had received from herself and 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE, 25 
 
 husband. "Your husband/ 7 said he, pressing 
 his hand upon his breast, "was my friend, 
 and the aid I received from you both was 
 most beneficial to me and my troops." 
 
 Mr. David Poe, Jr., son of Gen. David Poe, 
 of revolutionary memory, was the father of 
 EDGAR ALLAN POE, who was born in Boston 
 on January 19, 1809. The citizens of three 
 respective cities have claimed for themselves 
 his place of birth, viz.: Boston, Baltimore 
 and Richmond. But it is generally conceded 
 and believed that Boston is entitled to the 
 credit and honor of POE S having drawn his 
 first breath in that city. Very soon there 
 after his parents removed to Eichmond. 
 General Poe designed his son David, the 
 father of Edgar, for the law, and placed him 
 in the office of Win. Guinn, Esq., Baltimore, 
 for the prosecution of his studies; but while 
 a student he became fascinated with a beau 
 tiful young English actress whose name was 
 Elizabeth Arnold. So devotedly attached was 
 he to this charming young woman, that when 
 little more than eighteen years of age he 
 eloped with her and was married. He was 
 disowned by his parents for this unwarranted 
 step. He soon adopted his wife s profession 
 
26 EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 and went on the stage. In a few months 
 after their marriage, and after the birth of 
 their first child, the parents of David relented, 
 and the young couple returned to their pa 
 ternal home, where they were cordially re 
 ceived. The time allowed for acts of kind 
 ness and sympathy towards these erring 
 children was of short duration. 
 
 Soon after their return to home and favor 
 of father and mother they left the paternal 
 roof to follow their profession, and started for 
 Richmond, Va. In 1815 the youthful parents 
 of POE died within a few weeks of each other, 
 from consumption, leaving three children, 
 Henry, EDGAR, and a daughter named Rosa 
 lie, unprotected and unprovided for. On the 
 death of their parents EDGAR, though a 
 mere child, was adopted by Mr. John Allan, 
 a wealthy citizen of Richmond, who was 
 childless and whose wife became passionately 
 fond of the beautiful and attractive child. 
 It was mainly her love for the boy that led 
 to his adoption by Mr. Allan, whose name he 
 gave to EDGAR. EDGAR ALLAN POE was but 
 six years old when adopted. He was a very 
 pretty child and noted for his precocity. Mr. 
 Allan was fond of the bov and treated him 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE, 27 
 
 as if he were his own son. Scarcely had the 
 little orphan time to become acquainted with 
 his new parents, before he was carried by 
 them to Europe. It was in this wise, in 1816, 
 that the Allan family visited England on 
 matters pertaining to business, taking with 
 them their adopted son. After traveling 
 through England and Scotland, they placed 
 him at the Manor-house school in Church 
 street, Newington. He was placed under 
 the care and instruction of the Rev. Dr. 
 Bransby, whom the poet so quaintly describes 
 in II7///V//// IT/ /.so//, which is considered one 
 among his best stories. Friendless and or 
 phaned as he was, he spent a happy, if not 
 the happiest, part of his life in this sombre 
 English village. Here POE remained for 
 nearly five years, and to this sequestered spot 
 he looked back in after life with feelings of 
 pleasure and great satisfaction, if not with 
 pride ; and to the trmning^ud^irection given 
 thpre to the bent w&tsmu^his scholarly 
 acquirements are chiefly attributed. 
 (/ In 1821 he was recalled by his adopted pa 
 rents, and placed by them at an academy in 
 Eichmond, where the Allans resided. The 
 boy was now but twelve years old. Mr. Allan 
 
28 EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 had by this time become so much attached to 
 Edgar that he was petted and apparently 
 spoiled, as his every wish was gratified ; but 
 these generous acts did not spoil him, but left 
 him with an unnatural sensitiveness to af 
 fection toward those who desired his best 
 good. It was at this early period that he 
 manifested his gentleness and docility. He 
 was willing and eager to be taught, and exhib 
 ited a kind and humane disposition toward 
 all. Toward the dumb brute, as he says 
 of himself, "my tenderness of heart was so 
 well known as to make me the jest of my 
 companions." This tenderness of heart and 
 generous nature increased with his growth 
 and strengthened with his strength, and its 
 beauty and fullness were developed in after 
 life. 
 
 In 1822 Mr. Allan placed Edgar at the 
 University of Charlottesville, Va, Here the 
 Rev. Dr. Clriswold, the writer to whom I 
 have before referred, began his attack. He 
 charges POE with having been dismissed 
 from the university for habits of intemper 
 ance and other vices. I am pleased to say 
 that these false charges have been fully re 
 futed by the president and secretary, William 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE. 29 
 
 Wertenbaker, of the faculty, whose testi 
 mony, over their own signatures, I now pro 
 duce. Mr. William Wertenbaker, the secre 
 tary, indorsed by the president, Dr. Stephen 
 Maupiri, as being worthy of confidence, says 
 in his letter of reply to the charges made : 
 "There is nothing on the records of the fac 
 ulty to the prejudice of POE. He spent 
 one entire session at the university. At no 
 time did he fall under the censure of the 
 faculty, and he was not known to be addicted 
 to the use of stimulants." This much is his 
 tory authenticated and published in his 
 memoirs and confirmed by Dr. G. White to 
 me in person a few months ago in Richmond. 
 He said to his friend Dr. White, " You are 
 acquainted with the character of the gentle 
 men with whom I am daily associated; you 
 know them to be gentlemen, well educated 
 and highly esteemed. Their habits are to 
 take a glass of toddy two or three times a 
 day, and occasionally to be intoxicated. I 
 have, at long intervals, participated and have 
 sometimes felt its effects, but I paid the pen 
 alty by four or five days in bed. I could not 
 become a dram drinker, it would have soon 
 killed me." His sensitive nature could not 
 
30 EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 endure it. His mother-in-law, Mrs. Clemm, 
 has said that a cup of strong coffee would 
 intoxicate him. Dr. Whyte remarked to me, 
 " I never knew POE to gamble or get drunk. 
 "We all played cards for pastime and amuse 
 ment, and we sometimes drank wine, but 
 never got drunk or gambled for money. 
 The Doctor was a student with POE at 
 Charlottesville that session, 
 
 It is not my purpose to follow in detail 
 POE S history, but I design to give a brief 
 review of his habits of life in respect to his 
 indulgences in the intoxicating glass, so that 
 you may be better able to determine in your 
 minds whether he was the debauchee and low 
 character as charged so frequently by his 
 enemies. I do not wish you to understand 
 me as saying that Mr. POE never drank ar 
 dent spirits in his early manhood, or that he 
 was never under its influence, l)ut I hope to 
 be able to so strengthen your belief in the 
 character of his life and habits as well, that 
 you will unite with me in declaring against 
 the wholesale abuses and reiterated slanders, 
 as a tissue of gross untruths originating in 
 the brain of a designing enemy. In the lat 
 ter part of his life, four years previous to his 
 death, he was perfectly temperate. 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE, 31 
 
 Leaving to his biographers the years that 
 intervene, I introduce him again in 1829. In 
 this year he returns to his foster-father s 
 home, in Eichmond, in the latter part of 
 March, but too late to see the familiar face 
 and receive the smile of welcome from his 
 foster-mother ; she was buried the day before 
 his return. 
 
 Of this melancholy visit the poet himself 
 says : 
 
 I reached my home, my home no more, 
 
 For all had flown who made it so ; 
 I passed 1 rom out its mossy door. 
 
 And tho my tread was soft and low. 
 A voice came from the threshold stone 
 
 Of one whom 1 had earlier known. 
 
 EDGAR deeply felt her loss and mourned her 
 death, causing him to express to Mr. Allan 
 a wish for the military profession, in the hope 
 of being sent away from home. Mr. Allan 
 gratified his desire, and by his influence 
 secured him a position in the Military Acad 
 emy at West Point. The records of that in 
 stitution show that EDGAR ALLAN POE was 
 admitted July 1, 1830. 
 
 The rigid rules, regulations, and restraints 
 of the Academy were not in accord with the 
 freedom he had hitherto enjoyed. He re- 
 
32 EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 mained but a short time under their control, 
 and returned to Mr. AllaiVs house once more, 
 where he was kindly received and where he 
 remained some length of time, long enough, 
 in fact, to engage himself in a matrimonial 
 alliance with the love of his childhood, Miss 
 Eoyster, now Mrs. Shelton, of Richmond. 
 She was a sweet young lady in her teens, and 
 he but two years her senior. She was his 
 beautiful "Annabel Lee," and lived at Rich 
 mond, his "kingdom by the sea." Let the 
 poet speak for himself of this early love: 
 
 It was many and many a year a.uo, 
 
 In a kinirdorn by the sea. 
 Thai a maiden there lived whom vou mav know 
 
 I>y the name of ANN.U .KI. LICK; 
 And this maiden she lived with no other thought 
 
 Than to love and he loved by me. 
 
 1 was a child and she was a child, 
 
 In this kingdom by the sea ; 
 Hut we loved with a love that was more than love 
 
 I and my ANNAP.KI. 1 .1:1:: 
 With a love that the winded seraphs of heaven 
 
 Coveted her and me. 
 
 And this was the reason that, long aiio. 
 
 In this kingdom by the bea, 
 A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE, 33 
 
 My beautiful AN.\,\r,Kj, LKK; 
 So that her highborn kinsman came 
 
 And bore her away from me, 
 To shut her rip in a sepulchre 
 
 In tin s kingdom by the sea. 
 
 The angels, not half so happy in heaven. 
 
 Went envying her and me 
 Ye>! that was the reason (,as all men know, 
 
 In thi^ kingdom by the sea < 
 That the wind came out of the cloud by night, 
 
 Chilling and killing my ANNA I .KI, LKK. 
 
 But our love it was stronger by far than the love 
 
 Of those who were older than we 
 
 Of many far wiser than we 
 And neither the angels in heaven above, 
 
 Nor the demons down under the sea, 
 Can ever dissever my sold from the soul 
 
 Of the beautiful ANXAHKL LKK; 
 
 For the nidoii never beams, without brinuinu me dream 1 - 
 
 Of the beautiful AXXAI-.KI, LKK: 
 And the stars never rise, hut I feel the bright eyes 
 
 Of the beautiful AXXM;I:L LKK; 
 And so, all the night-tide, 1 lie down by the side 
 Of my darling my darling my life and my bride. 
 
 In the sepulchre there by the sea, 
 
 In her tomb bv the sounding sea. 
 
 "When Mr. Allan became a \vare of this en 
 gagement, he was very angry and did all in 
 his power to prevent its consummation, 
 chiefly on account of EDGAR S youth. 
 
 A quarrel ensued and the poet, unable to 
 submit to what he considered unjust and 
 
34 EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 arbitrary treatment by Mr. Allan, left the 
 house with the intention of offering his serv 
 ices in aiding the Poles in their struggles 
 against Russia. Many accounts are given as 
 to where he went. A recent biographer 
 assumes to have ascertained that he entered 
 the United States Army under the assumed 
 name of Edgar A. Perry ; but my own im 
 pression is that he never designed to be 
 remote from his first love, his "Annabel 
 Lee, 1 and many circumstances warrant this 
 opinion. His brother Henry s action may 
 have given rise to this report. 
 
 It was only last summer, during an inter 
 view with Mrs. Shelton, that I learned from 
 her the strength of ;bhe attachment between 
 the poet and herself in plain words, how 
 much they loved. She talked freely with 
 me of their childhood and riper years when 
 they were in each other s company. She 
 named the street where her father lived, 
 and said that EDGAR ALLAN POE S foster- 
 parents lived in the house on the opposite cor 
 ner. " We spent much of our time together 
 when we were children. A few years after 
 Mr. Allan built a large mansion farther up 
 the street, about four squares from where 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE. 35 
 
 we stand." She seemed to be thoughtful and 
 musing, when I remarked, "You met again in 
 the years when you began to know more of 
 the realities of life." She said, "Yes, but you 
 will excuse me. I am lost in wonder and 
 amazement at the singular drama now being 
 enacted. Oh, sir, you can have no idea of 
 the thoughts that have so crowded upon my 
 memory and occupied my mind. How often 
 I have wished to see his physician, so that I 
 could learn from his own lips Mr. POE S dying 
 words. And to think that so many years 
 after his death, we are face to face, reviewing 
 his life, from his childhood to his grave. 
 All this I have anxiously hoped for before 
 I should die, and it is now fulfilled." The 
 venerable lady then put her handkerchief 
 to her face and wept. I spent four hours in 
 her company, in talking of POE S decease, 
 comparing notes and gathering important 
 facts to aid in my defense. 
 
 This interview with one immortalized by 
 the poet s song I shall never forget. Our 
 sympathies were in unison, and I am not 
 ashamed to confess that it was with difficulty 
 that tears were restrained. I am happy to 
 say that Mrs. Shelton is yet living, and 
 
36 EDGAK ALLAN POK. 
 
 though in feeble healtli and well advanced 
 in years, her face indicates a peaceful mind 
 and a joyous hope of the rest beyond. 
 
 POE left Richmond, it is true, but doubtless 
 with the hope of one day returning again, to 
 take to his bosom the idol of his heart. 
 Years intervened, but her image never left 
 him, waking or sleeping. It is certain that 
 he put himself in a position as near to his 
 heart s desire as was discreet, to learn some 
 thing regarding her and his foster-parent. 
 He learned too soon the sad tidings that fell 
 like a nightmare upon his sensitive nature, 
 and palsied his heart and gave a death-blow 
 to all his hopes and fond anticipations. He 
 learned that Mr. Allan had married a young 
 woman, the beautiful Miss Patterson, whom 
 he well knew, and that the love of his youth, 
 Miss Royster, to whom he had plighted his af 
 fections, had married a gentleman of wealth 
 in that city, named Shelton. 
 
 This was a severe blow to the ardent young 
 poet. Disappointed and dejected, unfortu 
 nate in almost everything he had previously 
 undertaken, many less sensitive in their 
 natures would have resorted to the bowl for 
 relief. Not so with the distressed poet. 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE, 37 
 
 Relying upon that innate spirit of indepen 
 dence which possessed his soul, he determined 
 now to devote his whole mind to literature for 
 his support. He sought and received encour 
 agement by his active brain and the use of 
 his never-failing pen. 
 
 In the year 1 8, i;> he is again brought promi 
 nently before the public as a competitor for 
 two prizes offered by the proprietor of the 
 Hutn nlay Vixitor, published in Baltimore 
 City, for the best prose story and the best 
 poem. The poet wrote and sent to the com 
 mittee selected to award the prizes six of his 
 stories and the poems of the Coliseum . The 
 committee, composed of eminent professional 
 and literary men, after a critical examina 
 tion of a mass of papers received from nu 
 merous contributors, decided unanimously 
 that POE, to them unknown, was entitled to 
 the premiums and that he richly deserved 
 them. 
 
 Not contented with this award, the adjudi 
 cators went out of their way to draw up and 
 publish the following flattering critique on 
 the merits of the writings submitted by POE: 
 
 Amongst the prose articles \\en- manv of various and distinguished 
 
 turrit, but the singular torn- and beauty of those sent by the author of 
 the "Tales <f the Kolio (Tub" leave us no room for hesitation in that 
 
38 EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 department. We have, accordingly, awarded tin- premium to a talc 
 entitled the " MS. Found in a Bottle." It would hardly be doing; just 
 ice to the writer of this collection to say that the tale we have chosen 
 is the best of the six offered hy him. We cannot refrain from saying 
 that the author owes it to his own reputation, as well as to the gratifica 
 tion of the community, to publish the entire volume, "Tales of the Folio 
 Club." These tales are eminently distinguished by a wild, vigorous and 
 poetical imagination, a rich style, a fertile invention, and varied and 
 curious learning. 
 
 (Signed) .JOHN P. KENNEDY. 
 
 J. II. 1!. LATROHF. 
 
 JAMFS II. M1FFFU. 
 
 Mr. Kennedy, chairman, of the committee, 
 became the firm friend of POE and continued 
 so to be until his death, and when informed 
 of the decease he declared it impossible to 
 credit any of Griswold s stories of the poet s 
 life. 
 
 In 18-34 Mr. Allan died, leaving his adopted 
 son no part of his great wealth. In 18:^ 
 POE engaged with a Mr. White, of Eichmond, 
 who had commenced the publication of the 
 Southern Literary Messenger in that city. 
 His former friend, Mr. Kennedy, urged 
 POE to send something to the Messenger for 
 publication. 
 
 POE did as he was desired by Mr. Kennedy, 
 and it so pleased Mr. White that he spoke of 
 it in the highest terms in the next number 
 of his periodical. 
 
 POE S reputation grew so rapidly that Mr. 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE, 39 
 
 White gave him a position on the editorial 
 staff of the Messenger, at a salary of one 
 hundred guineas per annum. In order to 
 give his entire attention to the duties as 
 sumed, he removed to Richmond, where the 
 magazine was published. During the year 
 1836 POE was fully installed in his new 
 relation to the Messenger. 
 
 It was in Richmond, among his own kin 
 dred, that he met his "Lenore," his cousin, 
 Virginia Cleinm, the daughter of his father s 
 sister, Maria Clemm. She reciprocated his 
 affections, and to her he was married. She 
 was very young in years, and from predis 
 position was soon to be the victim of pulmo 
 nary disease. It had already seized her for 
 its prey, but the ardent and sincere attach 
 ment for his choice was irresistible, and with 
 but little of this world s goods and a small 
 income he married his cousin. Under other */ 
 circumstances a better help-meet could not 
 easily have been found, or one better calcu- 
 lated to make his life a happy one. 
 
 In 1837 POE left the Messenger to assist 
 the proprietors of the New York Quarterly 
 Review, a work for which his scholarly ac 
 quirements rendered him eminently quali 
 fied. It is proper to state that Mr. White 
 
40 EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 parted with POE very reluctantly, with 
 out a word of complaint, and with no accu 
 sation of intemperance, as charged hy Gris- 
 wold. 
 
 POE removed to New York with his family 
 and resided on Carmine street, and up to 
 this period of his life I have brought the 
 subject of my lecture without one change of 
 intemperance made by his accusers^Lother 
 charges that have not been disproved by the 
 clearest testimony given by those who knew 7 
 him personally and wely. 
 
 I will take the liberty of presenting addi 
 tional witnesses to testify to his good char 
 acter. I am permitted to introduce the Hon. 
 Richard Hengist Home, of London. 1 quote 
 his own language : 
 
 A few leading features onlv can be sketched. No cunning barrister 
 preparing un important brief; no great actor Studying a new pan : no 
 analvtic chemist seeking to establish the tact of a, murder by discovery 
 or proof of blood or poison in some unexpected substance; no Dutch 
 painter, working for months on the minute finish of all sorts of detail, 
 in the background as well as the foreground of his picture, ever took 
 more pains than KIXJAR ALLAN I OK in the production of most of his 
 principal works. Let no one attempt to imitate PoK without his genius 
 and acquirements. The copyist would be discovered and denounced in 
 an instant. 
 
 Let me introduce a gentleman of learning 
 and character, a citizen of New York, Mr. 
 William Gowans, whose testimony is in di- 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE. 41 
 
 rect confirmation of the fact that POE was 
 not addicted to the use of intoxicating drink. 
 He said : 
 
 I will give you my opinion of this gifted bul unfortunate genius. It 
 
 mav he estimated as of little worth. I>ui il has this merit, it comes from, 
 an eye and ear witness; and this, it must he remembered, is the highest 
 le.u-al evidence. For eiglit months one house contained us and one table 
 fed us. During tliat time 1 saw much of him and had an opportunity 
 of conversing with him often, and I must say thai I never saw him the 
 least aHected by liquor, nor ever descend to any known vice, lie was 
 one of the most courteous gentlemen and intelligent companions that I 
 have met during my baitings and joiirnevings through divers divisions 
 of the globe; besides he. had an extra inducement to be a good husband, 
 for lie had a wife of matchless beauty and loveliness, and temper and 
 disposition of surpassing sweetness, and was as much devoted to him and. 
 his everv ink-rest as a mother is to her lirst-born. 
 
 This gentleman boarded with Mrs. Clemm 
 until she broke up housekeeping. He had 
 every opportunity to know the habits of POE. 
 
 1 wish now to introduce the testimony of 
 Mrs. Osgood, a distinguished lady, to show 
 his extreme kindness and affection for his 
 wife. She remarks: 
 
 [ It was at his own simple yet poetical home that the character of the 
 poet appeared in its most beautiful light playfully aflectionale, witty, 
 and at times wavward as a pet ted child. jFor his gentle; and idoli/ed wife 
 and for all \vho came- he had, even in the- midst of his most harassing 
 duties, a kind word, a pleasant smile, grateful and courteous attention. 
 At his desk, beneath the romantic picture of his beloved "Lenore." lie 
 would sit hour after hour, patient, assiduous and uncomplaining, tracing 
 in exquisite penmanship, and with almost superhuman swiftness, the 
 lightning thoughts, the rare and radiant fancies as they Hashed through 
 his wonderful and ever-wakeful brain. 
 
42 EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 If there is any place where a man can be 
 seen in his true light and where his true char 
 acter is fully displayed, it is at his own home. 
 
 In 1838 POE removed to Philadelphia, 
 where he was engaged as a contributor to 
 the Gentlemen 1 s Magazine of that city. His 
 talents soon produced brilliant effects, and 
 in May, 1839, he was appointed to the 
 editorial management of that periodical. 
 Towards the close of 1840 Mr. George R. 
 Graham, owner of the ( 1 ad:et, acquired pos 
 session of the Gentlemen .* Mayazhie, and 
 merged the two publications in a new 
 series known as Graham .* Magazine. Mr. 
 Graham was only too willing to retain the 
 services of the brilliant editor, and found his 
 reward in so doing. 
 
 POE, aided by the liberality of his em 
 ployers, in a little while increased the num 
 ber of subscribers to the magazine from five 
 to fifty thousand. He continued in this 
 capacity until near the close of 1842, at which 
 time POE resigned the position of joint editor 
 of Graham*.* Magazine. 
 
 In 1843 the Dollar Magazine offered a hun 
 dred-dollar prize for a story, which was 
 awarded to POE for his tale of "The Gold 
 Bug." 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE, 43 ^ 
 
 Iii 1844 the poet moved to Xew York, 
 whither his increasing fame had already 
 preceded him, and where he now entered 
 congenial society and a fairer and better 
 field for the recognition of his literary abili 
 ties. It is generally conceded that the first 
 journal for which he wrote in New York was 
 the Mirror, a daily paper, holding the posi 
 tion of sub-editor and critic. The paper at 
 that time belonged to N. P. Willis and Gen. 
 George Morris. During the whole six months 
 that POE was engaged on the Mirror, Mr. 
 Willis asserts that he was invariably punc 
 tual and industrious, and daily at his desk 
 from nine in the morning until the evening- 
 paper went to press. At this period some of 
 POE s most remarkable productions appeared, 
 including "The Baven." This poem first 
 appeared in Coltotix Anuvinni Rerien- for 
 February, 1845, It was also printed in the 
 evening Mirror, with the author s name 
 attached, and in a few weeks was known 
 throughout the United States and in Europe. 
 
 His name and fame were at once carried 
 across the water, drawing warm eulogies 
 from some of the first poets and critics of 
 the old world. For this masterpiece of 
 genius, which Mr. Ingraham declares has 
 
44 EDOAK ALLAN POE, 
 
 probably done more for the renown of 
 American letters than any single literary 
 performance, Mr. POE received the pitiful 
 sum of ten dollars. It has been stated that 
 he composed "The Raven 17 while in a fit of 
 delirium tremens. In refutation of the falsity 
 of this charge, I have the testimony of a lady 
 of intelligence and literary culture, the wife 
 of a distinguished General, formerly of 
 New York, who assures me that POE com 
 posed "The Raven" while at her father s 
 house in that city. It was his habit when 
 he left the house to leave the manuscript in 
 the old iron safe belonging to this lady s 
 father. She declares he was never known 
 to taste anything intoxicating while he was 
 at her father s house. She lived at home 
 and saw POE every day. 
 
 In July, 1845, the entire control of the 
 Broadway Journal was confided to POE. Its 
 owners having limited capital and less talent 
 it soon came to nought. During his control 
 of the Broadway Journal, POE S labors were 
 great and extremely severe ; enough, indeed, 
 to destroy the brain of almost any other 
 man. He made it, while under his manage 
 ment, the best cheap literary paper that was 
 published at that day. In the winter of 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE, 45 
 
 5 - 4(5, Mr. POE was a favorite in the liter 
 ary circles of our great commercial metrop 
 olis, as was also his young and beautiful 
 wife. His love and devotion to his wife, to 
 which I have already referred, was a sort of 
 rapturous worship. Of this charming feat 
 ure of FOE S character, Mr. Graham says : 
 
 I have seen him hovering around her when she was ill, \viih all the 
 fondness and tender anxiety of a mother for her babe. Her slightest 
 eou^h would cause him a shudder a heart (/hill that could be seen. 
 It was this hourly anticipation of losing her that made him a 
 sid and thoughtful man, and lent a mournful melodv to his undving 1 
 son.tr. It was for his dear wile s sake that I OK left the city of New 
 York. Ill health, want of worldly knowledge, a sick and dying wife 
 to distract him, all combined to overpower his eflbrts, and for her sake 
 and to secure for her peace and quiet, he left the busy, bustling city, 
 retired to a small Dutch cottage in the quiet town of Fordham. \Vest- 
 chester County, New York. Here he passed with her the three remain 
 ing years of her life. 
 
 It was in the summer of 1846 that POE 
 removed his dying wife to the quietude of 
 Fordham. Here I desire also to quote the 
 language of Mrs. Whitman to corroborate 
 the statements already made regarding POE S 
 habits, gentleness, and sincere devotion to 
 his wife. Mrs. Whitman had frequently 
 visited his wife at their peaceful home, and 
 she says : 
 
 The noblest memorial yet raised to his memory was his undying- de 
 votion to his dear " Lenore." There in loneliness and privation, through 
 many solitary hours, in the bleak and dreary days and nights of .Janu 
 ary, 1847, he watched her failing breath 
 
46 EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 Till at length, one day in that cheerless month, 
 
 An anu el eame t roiu the blest afar 
 To bear her deathless spirit through the golden irates ajar. 
 
 The dear wife of his bosom had passed 
 away, and in some slight degree I did real 
 ize his distress of mind and sorrow of heart 
 in his own dying words as I held his hand at 
 his death-bed. He cried out in language so 
 pathetic, with heart all torn and bleeding, 
 "Oh, my dear Lenore, my dear Leiiore! how 
 long before I shall see my dear Virginia!" 
 impatient to depart and be with her at rest. 
 
 The poet s grief for his lost wife was so 
 great that he became very melancholy and 
 reticent ; moving about the house in appar 
 ent listlessness and indifference. This state 
 of mental distress lasted for weeks, but 
 through the kind attentions and encouraging- 
 words of his dear "Muddle," as he called his 
 mother-in-law, Mrs. Clemm, he gradually 
 regained his wonted vigor of mind and body 
 and resumed hi s work . W ith no com p a 1 1 i < > n 
 but Mrs. Clemm, he remained at his quiet 
 home, musing over the memory of his lost 
 "Lenore," and thinking out the crowning 
 work of his life. 
 
 Here he remained for one whole year. 
 gradually receiving friend after friend, and 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE. 47 
 
 devoting his best energies to the completion 
 of his " Eureka." At the close of this, the 
 most immemorial year of his life, he wrote 
 his "Ulalume." 
 
 Early in 1848 he determined to make an 
 effort once more to start a magazine of his 
 own. To raise funds for this purpose he an 
 nounced his intention of delivering a series 
 of lectures in the places where he had the 
 greatest number of intimate friends, hoping 
 to receive from them subscriptions to sup 
 port his enterprise. The place at which he 
 designed and whore he expected to obtain 
 his largest support was Richmond. He is 
 sued a prospectus and started North, deliv 
 ering his first lecture in the library of the 
 New York Historical Society. He lectured 
 also in Boston and Lowell. Not obtaining 
 the necessary number of subscribers to start 
 his journal on a solid basis, he abandoned 
 the enterprise, returned to Fordham and re 
 sumed work on his "Eureka." 
 
 In the summer of 1841) he again visited 
 Richmond, his former visit having been for 
 the purpose of engaging in business with a 
 new firm, in which a lady was interested, 
 one whom he had known in former years 
 and who was in possession of means sufficient 
 
48 EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 to successfully establish a magazine. She 
 was now a widow. 
 
 The first visit was in the month of October, 
 1848. Whether by accident or design I do 
 not know, but I do know, as [ received it from 
 the lady herself a short time ago, that it 
 was during that visit to Richmond that she 
 saw him, for the first time, since she had 
 become a widow, and that it was in the 
 autumn of the year and the month of Octo 
 ber, 1848, that he first met her since he had 
 become a widower. In the summer of 1849 
 POE took final leave of his home and friends 
 at Fordham. These were the friends who 
 stood by him during his severest trials and 
 afflictions, among them being his mother-in- 
 la \v. Mrs. ( -lemm. She had been his guardian 
 and guide, and had cared for him as only a 
 mother could do. I give the statement of 
 one of his truest friends and nearest neigh 
 bors, and one who, with his family, was 
 more intimate with him than almost any 
 other, being together for more than four 
 years, as additional evidence in refutation of 
 the stories and calumnies charged against 
 POE. I allude to Mr. S. P. Lewis. 
 
 Mr. Lewis says : 
 
 My wife and I often visited him during the last illnc fl hi.- \\ife.Hiul 
 attended her luneral : and when I >!: finally took his departure for the 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE, 49 
 
 South, the kiaeing and hand-shaking were at my front door. He was 
 hopeful, \V(.- wore sad, and tears gushed in torrents as he kissed liis 
 "Muddle and my wife "good-bye," Mrs. ( leinin predicting a final 
 adieu. 
 
 Mr. Lewis continues : 
 
 PoE WAS one of the most atlectionate and kind-hearted men I ever 
 knew. I never witnessed so mneli tender affection and devoted love as 
 existed in that family of three persons, i have spent weeks in the 
 elo>est intimacy with I oi-:, and never saw him under the slightest infln- 
 enee oi any stimulant whatever. He was, in truth, a most abstemious 
 and exemplary man. Our acquaintance was made in the year 1S4 "> and 
 continued until the summer of 1840, when he left for the South. 
 
 This gentleman gives a candid and truthful 
 account of POE for four years, from 1845 to 
 1849. 
 
 Allow me here to present to you the decla 
 ration and earnest appeal made to High 
 Heaven, in the most solemn manner, by POE, 
 in a letter to a personal friend, and at the 
 time and in the face of these calumnious 
 charges, i refer to his letter to Dr. Snod- 
 grass, of Baltimore, recently published in the 
 Baltimore Awer-icd-H. He said to the Doctor: 
 
 1 now thank you for your defense of myself as stated. You are a 
 physician, and I presume no physician can have difficulty in detecting 
 the drunkard at a glance ; you are, moreover, a literary man well read 
 in morals; you will never he brought to believe that 1 could write what 
 f daily write, as 1 write it. if I were a drunkard. In (in< 
 before God, the solemn isor<j of a gentleman, that 1 am temperate even to 
 rigor; nothing stronger than water ever passes my \\\^. \ iuive now 
 only to repeat to yon in general, my solemn assurances, that my habits 
 are as far removed from intemperance as the day is from the night. My 
 sole drink is water. Will you do me the kindness to repeat this assur- 
 
50 EDGAR ALLAN POE, 
 
 a nee to such of our own friends as happen to speak of me in your hear 
 ing? I feel that nothing more is requisite, and yon will airree with me 
 on reflection. 
 
 ICIMJAR ALLAN I OK. 
 
 I here aver that there is no evidence and 
 never has been, that POE ever was seen 
 drunk, or that he ever got drunk from the 
 year 1845 to 1849, embracing a period of 
 four years. Later he confesses to the effect 
 of stimulants at long intervals, but of these 
 four years preceding his death, we have the 
 clearest testimony that he was a temperate 
 man. 
 
 He was a member of a temperance associa 
 tion, at Richmond, and delivered two lectures 
 upon the subject in that city, to each of 
 which his "Annabel Lee 11 accompanied him, 
 as she did to all other lectures delivered by 
 him in that city. After he had been in 
 Richmond a few months, it was rumored he 
 was to be married to Mrs Shelton, his "An 
 nabel Lee, 1 to whom he was engaged in his 
 youth, when she was Miss Royster. I have 
 the testimony from the pen of the lady her 
 self, written to me thirty-two years ago, of 
 the fact, and from her own lips in June last, 
 that she was engaged Jto he married to POE 
 at the time of his death. Mrs. Shelton de 
 clares that he was the most courteous gentle- 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE. 51 
 
 man she had ever known ; that no one could 
 be in his company and not be benefited by it ? 
 and above all that he was super-sensitive to 
 a fault at anything that would, in the most 
 remote degree, offend a lady. He inspired 
 all with whom he had business intercourse 
 or dealings of any kind with an affectionate 
 esteem, such as you would feel for a near 
 friend or a dear relative. 
 
 I feel that I have trespassed too long upon 
 the kind forbearance of my readers in this 
 brief history of the poet. I may have been 
 tedious in the presentation of so large an 
 amount of testimony in refutation of the 
 false charges made against his good name., 
 and the only apology I can offer is the inter 
 est I feel in my theme and my desire to se 
 cure a generous judgment. Is it not impos 
 sible for one who labored so assiduously with 
 brain and pen, by day and by night, through 
 all the disastrous circumstances surrounding 
 him and the misfortunes that fell to his 
 unhappy lot, to produce those masterpieces 
 which fill bulky volumes, poems of exquisite 
 beauty, stories of weird and fascinating 
 splendor, and critiques that are in all re 
 spects among the finest in our literature, 
 and these productions, amidst the drudge- 
 
52 EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 ries of editorial routine, on periodicals and 
 weekly papers, at times when he was physi 
 cally exhausted by watching over the bed 
 side of his dying wife, whose life was one 
 long disease . Is it possible, I ask, that a 
 drunkard could have done all this? No, no. 
 The constancy of his labors and the demand 
 upon his brain and time, up to a short period 
 before his death, at which time he produced 
 the crowning work of his life, his "Eureka," 
 forbid the supposition. But if to take a 
 glass of wine or brandy with convivial 
 friends, at long intervals, which he confesses 
 to have done and to have felt its effects in 
 his earlier manhood, is to brand a man with 
 the name of "drunkard, 11 blast his character 
 and reputation, I say to his revilers and per 
 secutors, "Let him that is without sin cast 
 the first stone. 11 Until then let the death 
 slumber of EDGAR ALLAN POE be quiet in 
 his tomb, and let his ashes rest in peace. 
 But have these cruel calumnies fallen upon 
 the unfortunate poet alone? No. Many of 
 his friends have felt them most keenly. 
 One yet lives, now in her seventy-third year, 
 who loved him in life, sympathized with him 
 in his afflictions, wept and mourned for his 
 untimely death, and with grief and tears of 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE. 53 
 
 .sorrow will go down to the grave lamenting 
 the sad fate of him who was dearer to her 
 than life itself. She has suffered and felt, 
 as only a pure and sensitive woman can feel, 
 not only her great loss, but the cruel and 
 unjust assault upon the memory of him she 
 loved. 
 
 In closing this part of my narrative, I am 
 constrained to ask your indulgence while I 
 present some remarks of Mr. George Graham 
 in defense of POE. I do this at the request 
 and earnest desire of Mrs. Clemm, and in. 
 compliance with a promise made to her 
 years ago. Mr. Graham says: 
 
 For three or four years 1 knew I oi: intimately. ;ui<l for cinliUen 
 months 1 sa\v him almost daily; much of the time writing or conversing 
 ut the same desk ; knowing all his hopes, as well as his hard struggle 
 with adver-e fate; yet he was always the same polished gentleman, the 
 quiet, unobtrusive, thoughtful scholar, the devoted husband; frugal in 
 his personal expense^, punctual and unwearied in hi- indiMry, and the 
 soul of honor. 
 
 The poet himself made this solemn decla 
 ration to a personal friend: k By the God 
 who reigns in heaven, I swear to you that 
 my soul is incapable of dishonor. I can call 
 to mind no act of my life which would bring 
 a blush to my cheek. 11 
 
 I come now to the closing scenes of the 
 life of the long-lamented and deceased poet. 
 
54 EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 it is with the last sixteen hours of his life 
 that I have especially to do. This is my 
 mission and the duty I am called upon to 
 perform. They are the hours that have been 
 shrouded with so much mystery, and in re- 
 gard to w^hich so many false statements have 
 been made. 
 
 After twenty-five years I was called upon 
 as his physician. I was supposed to know" at 
 least the date of his decease, and as a monu 
 ment was about being placed to his memory 
 in Baltimore it became necessary that I 
 should be consulted. I was applied to for 
 the necessary date. I cheerfully gave it, and 
 the same was cut upon the monument so 
 creditable to the ladies and gentlemen whose 
 philanthropic hearts moved them to secure 
 this memorial to the genius and worth of 
 the dead poet. It is hoped that if I was suf 
 ficient authority for this record, that I may 
 receive corresponding confidence from my 
 readers in the statements I make. 
 
 Permit me to ask at your hands the con 
 fidence you would give to any respectable 
 physician making a statement respecting a 
 deceased patient who was in his care for 
 sixteen hours before his death. I cannot but 
 believe that you will accord this measure of 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE, 55 
 
 confidence to one who saw, handled and 
 watched over his patient, cared for him, con 
 versed with him, and received his dying 
 statement. 
 
 I have stated to you the fact that EDGAR 
 ALLAN POE did not die under the effect of 
 any intoxicant, nor was the smell of liquor 
 upon his breath or person. He AVMS in my 
 care and under my charge for sixteen hours. 
 He was sensible mid rational fifteen hours 
 out of the sixteen. He answered promptly 
 and correctly all questi< m ,s asked, spoke freely, 
 and made certain statements, and gave cer 
 tain directions to whom I should write, and 
 a confession of what related to himself, his 
 mother-in-law, and the lady to whom he was 
 to have been married. He told me, in an 
 swer to my questions, where he had been, 
 from whence he came, and for which place 
 he started when he left Richmond, when 
 he arrived in Baltimore, and the name of the 
 hotel where he registered, from which I 
 received his trunk before his death. The 
 names of the ladies to whom he requested 
 me to write were given, and their answers 
 to my letters after his death came speedily 
 and are with me now. 
 
 It has been charged that POE was made 
 
50 EDGAR ALLAN POE, 
 
 drunk and then "cooped," and voted a num 
 ber of times at an election held in Baltimore 
 about that time. This charge I unhesitat 
 ingly deny. One word will demonstrate its 
 falsity. That election was held October 3d, 
 the day before POE left Eichmond, and he- 
 was not in Baltimore until October 5th. He 
 was brought to the Washington College Uni 
 versity Hospital on October 0, 1849, about 
 9 o clock A. M. and died between 12 and 1 
 o clock on October 7th. 
 
 His biographers all agree that he left Rich 
 mond on October 4th, but affirm that when 
 he landed in Baltimore he was caught, cooped, 
 drugged, voted, and then turned upon the 
 streets to die: that someone sa\\; him who 
 knew him and brought him to the hospital 
 <\t night in an unconscious state, and that he 
 died before morning with inflammation of 
 the brain, being insensible until his death. 
 It is true that POE left Richmond on October 
 4, 1849. not by train but by boat. There 
 was DO railroadfrom Richmond to Baltimore. 
 I have the evidence and the proof from Mrs. 
 Shelton, his affianced, that the poet parted 
 from her at her residence at 4 P. M. October 
 4th, to take the steamer "Columbus" for Bal 
 timore, intending to visit Philadelphia and 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE, 57 
 
 New York, to close up some business he had 
 with certain publishers and return to Rich 
 mond in a few days. She states that when 
 he said "good-bye," he paused a moment as 
 if reflecting, and then said to her: "I have 
 a singular feeling, amounting to a presenti 
 ment, .that this will be our last meeting until 
 we meet to pa.rt no more, and then walked 
 slowly and sadly away. What a sorrowful 
 prophecy was there in those parting words, 
 and how fearfully was it fulfilled. 
 
 Of the first meeting and the last farewell, 
 the illustrious poet sings in his wonderful 
 poem, "Ulalume:" 
 
 The skies they were asheii and sober, 
 The leaves they were crisped and sere; 
 
 It was night in the lonesome October 
 Of my most immemorial year. 
 
 ( )nr talk had been serious and sober. 
 
 lint our thoughts they were palsied and sere, 
 Our memories were treacherous and sere, 
 
 For we knew not the month was October, 
 And we marked not the night of the year. 
 
 Then my heart it grew ashen and sober, 
 As the leaves that were crisped and sere, 
 As the leaves that were withering and sere. 
 
 And I cried, it was surely October, 
 On this very night of last year, 
 That 1 journeyed, I journeyed down here. 
 
 It was in October that he first saw her 
 
58 EDGAR ALLAN POE, 
 
 when a widow ; it was on October 4th that he 
 left, to see her face no more on earth; and it 
 was on October 7th when he died. 
 
 The boat arrived in Baltimore about 4 
 o clock 011 the morning of October 5th. It- 
 landed at its dock on the corner of Pratt and 
 Light streets. - POE started for the hotel on 
 Pratt street, north side, opposite the Phila 
 delphia depot, called "Bradshaw s," now 
 " The Maltby House." A colored man from 
 the boat went with him and carried his 
 trunk. He left for Philadelphia about noon 
 and went as far as the Susquehanna Biver, 
 across which the passengers had to be trans 
 ferred by boat, there being no bridge at that 
 time. The river being very rough, owing to 
 a storm then .blowing, POE refused to venture 
 across. He remained on the cars and re 
 turned to Baltimore. 1 Arriving there at 
 about 8 o clock P. M.. a porter carried his 
 trunk to the hotel he had left in the morning. 
 Alighting from the cars he turned down 
 Pratt street, on the south side, and walked 
 toward the dock where his boat was. He 
 was followed by two suspicious characters, 
 as the testimony of the conductor will show, 
 {iid when he reached the southwest corner 
 Pratt and Light streets, he was seized by 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE, 59 
 
 the two roughs, dragged into one of the many 
 sinks of iniquity or gambling hells which 
 lined the wharf. He was drugged, robbed, 
 stripped of every vestige of the clothing he 
 had on when he left Richmond and the cars 
 a little while before, and reclothed with a 
 stained, faded, old bombazine coat, panta 
 loons of a similar character, apair of worn-out 
 shoes run down at the heels, and an old straw 
 hat. Later in this cold October night he 
 was driven or thrown out of the den in a 
 semi-conscious state, and feeling his way in 
 the darkness, he stumbled upon a skid or 
 long wide board lying across some barrels on 
 the w T est side of the wharf, about thirty yards 
 from the den, IL I indeed fared as did one 
 of old. He had fallen among thieves, who 
 stripped him of his raiment and departed, 
 leaving him half dead. He stretched him 
 self upon the plank and lay there until af bn- 
 daybreak on the morning- of the ^tL. A 
 gentleman, passing by, noticed the man, anil 
 on seeing his face recognized the Tpoet. He 
 called a hack, and giving the driver a plain 
 card with my address, and on the lower 
 right-hand corner the name of POE, the poet 
 was carried to the hospital, arriving there 
 about 9 o clock. 
 
60 EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 I had him placed in a small room in the 
 turret part of the building where patients 
 were put who had been drinking freely. 
 The room can be recognized in the cut by 
 the star. He was clad in the shabby suit I 
 have described, and being unconscious I had 
 him put in the place indicated, not knowing 
 at HIM! momrnt the cause of his distress. I 
 now know that he was perfectly sober when 
 he returned to the city. 
 
 MY witnesses are Judge N. Poe, of Balti 
 more, a second cousin of the poet; and the 
 conductor of the train. Capt. George W. Rol 
 lins, well-known in Baltimore. The follow 
 ing testimony was given to me by the con 
 ductor a few days after the poet s death : 
 Meeting him on the street he said, "I saw 
 in the papers the death of the gentleman I 
 had 011 my train the other day." I asked, u Do 
 you know who he was ." He said he did not 
 at that time, but he had learned since that 
 it was EDGAR P< >K. He remarked that he was 
 the finest specimen in. appearance of a gen 
 tleman that he had lately seen. " I was at 
 tracted to him from his appearance." I said, 
 u Captain, how was he dressed?" He replied, 
 "In black clothes ; his coat was buttoned up 
 close to his throat. There were two men 
 
EDGAR ALLAN FOE. 01 
 
 well dressed that came aboard of the train 
 from the other side of the river, having come 
 from Philadelphia or New York. They took 
 a seat back of POE. From their appearance I 
 k|iew they were sharks or men to be feared, 
 and when I got out of the train at Baltimore 
 I saw them following POE down towards the 
 dock. 11 I asked the conductor if POE was in 
 liquoi\ "Why," said he, "I would as soon 
 have suspected my own father, 11 L then re 
 lated to him the facts regarding POE and 
 where found the next morning, and he ex 
 pressed his thorough belief that those two 
 men went through him. > A similar state 
 ment was given by this conductor to Judge 
 Nielson Poe sometime during the same 
 month, of the year 1849, and was repeated 
 to me by Judge Poe last April two years 
 ago while sitting in the court-room, after 
 the court had been dismissed. We spent more 
 than an hour discussing the poet s life and 
 death. 
 
 And just here let me give you the words 
 of Mrs. Shelton, who yet lives, regarding the 
 style of clothing he had on when he left her 
 in Richmond on the 4th of October. I asked 
 Mrs. Shelton how he was dressed. She re 
 plied, u ln a full suit of black cloth ;" remark- 
 
62 EDGAR ALLAN FOE. 
 
 i 
 
 ing that he always wore black clothing, and 
 was very neat in dress and person. u Had he 
 a watch or jewelry on his person C She could 
 not say, as he always wore his coat well but 
 ton rd up to his throat, covering much of his 
 person. 1 said, t: He told me his contemplated 
 visit to New York was on business, and that 
 he expected to return in a few days. 11 1 re 
 lated to her the facts of his case, where 
 found, how dressed ( when brought to the 
 house, and she instantly exclaimed, with 
 tears in her eyes, that he was robbed, as I 
 have always believed, and drugged to ac 
 complish it. When brought to the hospital, 
 as I have said, he was unconscious. I had 
 him disrobed and made comfortable in bed. 
 I placed an experienced nurse at the door of 
 liis room to preserve quiet, to watch over 
 him and to notify me when he showed signs 
 of waking. He was, at that time, in a heavy 
 sleep or stupor. I left him and on entering 
 my office below. 1 discovered the hack still 
 standing before the entrance door of the 
 hospital, as you will see in the cut. I asked 
 the driver, " What are you waiting for?" He 
 said, u My hire/ 1 I asked, "Who sent you 
 here?" He replied, "You have the ticket, 1 
 meaning the card he had brought with him. 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE, 63 
 
 I asked, " Where did you find this man?" 
 "On Light street wharf, sir." I said, "Dead 
 drunk, I suppose?" He replied, " No, sir ; he 
 was a sick man, a very sick man, sir." 
 J :: ." Why do you think he was not drunk? 
 I asked. 
 
 " He did not smell of whiskey," said the 
 driver, "he is too white in the face. I picked 
 him up in my arms like a baby, sir, arid put 
 him in the hack." 
 
 Without further delay I paid the man his 
 fee. Little did I then think that after thirty - 
 five years T should be called upon to give a full 
 account of POK S death and to defend the man 
 whom I at that hour believed to be drunk; 
 and that man, the great American genius, 
 whose name is now a household word. 
 
 In a few minutes POE threw the cover 
 from his breast, and looking up asked the 
 nurse, "Where am 1?" The nurse made no 
 reply but rang for me. I attended the call 
 immediately, and placing my chair by the 
 side of the patient s bed, took his left hand in 
 my own and with my right hand pushed 
 back the raven locks of hair that covered his 
 forehead. I asked him how he felt. He 
 said, "Miserable." 
 
 "Do you suffer much pain t " "No." 
 
64 EDGAR ALLAN POE, 
 
 " Do you feel sick at the stomach * " "Yes, 
 slightly." 
 
 "Does your head ache, have you pain there f 
 putting my hand upon his forehead. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Mr. POE, how long have you been sick ( "" 
 
 u Can t say/ 1 
 
 " Where have you been stopping ( " 
 
 tk In a hotel on Pratt street, opposite the 
 depot. 11 
 
 "Have you a trunk or valise or anything 
 there you would like to have with you I " sup- 
 }>osing he had other clothing than that which 
 he brought on his person to the hospital. He 
 -aid, " I have a trunk with my papers and 
 some manuscripts. 11 Note this, there ivas no 
 < loUi m(j in the trtntk. A new suit of wedding 
 clothes was to have been placed in it for the 
 (/room-. His visit was a business one and 
 was to be a short one. I offered to send for 
 his trunk. He thanked me and said, "Do 
 so at once;" remarking, "Doctor, you are 
 very kind." 
 
 I sent the porter of the house with an or 
 der for his trunk, which was brought in less 
 than an hour. 
 
 The sick man said, "Where am I?" 
 
 "You are in the hands of your friends," I 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE, 05 
 
 replied, "and as soon as you are better, I 
 will have you moved to another part of the 
 house, where you can receive them." He 
 was looking the room over with his large 
 dark eyes, and I feared he would think he 
 was unkindly dealt with, by being put in 
 this prison-like room, with its wired inside 
 windows, and iron grating outside. 
 
 I now felt it necessary that I should de 
 termine the nature of his disease and make 
 out a correct diagnosis, so as to treat him 
 properly. 1 did not then know but he might 
 have been drinking, and so to determine the 
 matter, I said, "Mr. POE, you are extremely 
 weak, pulse very low ; I will give you a glass 
 of toddy." He opened wide his eyes, and 
 fixed them so steadily upon me, and with 
 such anguish in them that I had to look 
 from him to the wall beyond the bed. He 
 then said, "Sir, if I thought its potency 
 would transport me to the Elysian bowers 
 of the undiscovered spirit world, I would 
 not take it." 
 
 " I will then administer an opiate, to give, 
 you sleep and rest," I said. Then he rejoin 
 ed, "Twin sister, spectre to the doomed and 
 crazed mortals of earth and perdition." 
 
 I was entirely shorn of my strength. 
 
66 EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 Here was a patient supposed to have been 
 drunk, very drunk, and yet refuses to take 
 liquor. The ordinary response is, " Yes, 
 Doctor, give me a little to strengthen my 
 ner . 1 found there was no tremor of 
 
 his pel-son, no unsteadiness of his nerves, no 
 fidgeting with his hands, and not the slight 
 est odor of liquor upon his breath or person. 
 I sa\ my first impression had been a 
 
 mistaken one. He was in a sinking condi 
 tion, yet perfectly conscious 1 had his 
 body sponged with warm water, to which 
 spirits were added, sinapisms applied to 
 his stomach and feet, cold applications to 
 his head, and then administered a stimu 
 lating cordial. I left him to sleep and rest. 
 He slept about one hour. When he awoke, 
 i. was again summoned to his bedside. I 
 found his breathing short and oppressed, 
 and that he was much more feeble. I saw 
 that his life was in great danger. He asked 
 several questions as to where he was, and 
 how ho came there. Remarking, in answer 
 to my question as to where he went after he 
 returned from the Susquehanna, he said that 
 he had started for the boat, "I remember 
 no more/ 1 said he, "but a vague and horrible 
 dread that I would be killed, that I would 
 be thrown in the dock." 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE, 67 
 
 I said, " Mr. POE, 3-011 are in a critical con 
 dition, and the least excitement of your mind 
 will endanger your life ; you must compose 
 ^yourself and remain quiet. 11 
 
 He said, "Doctor, I am ill; is there no 
 hope? 11 
 
 "The chances are against you. 11 
 
 "How long, oh! how long, 11 he cried, "be 
 fore I can see my dear Virginia, my dear 
 Lenore I 11 
 
 I said to him, "I will send for her or any 
 one you wish to see. 11 I knew nothing of 
 his family or friends, and supposed the per 
 sons to whom he referred might live in the 
 city, or that his family might live the 
 
 I asked him, " Have you a family ? 11 "No," 
 said he, " my wife is dead, my dear Virginia. 
 My mother-in-law lives; oh! how my heart 
 bleeds for her; she had forebodings of this 
 hour, and said when Ave last met and parted 
 at Fordham, Eddie, I fear this will be our 
 last meeting. 115 
 
 He loved his mother-in-law with an intense 
 love, as his poetic words declare: 
 
V 
 
 68 EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 TO MY MOTIIKK. 
 
 Because I feel that, " in the heavens above, 
 
 The angels, whispering to one anotlior, 
 Can find, among their burning terms of love, 
 
 None so devotional as that of "Mother," 
 Therefore by that dear name 1 long have called you 
 
 Yon who are more than mother unto me, 
 And (ill my heart of hearts, where death installed you, 
 
 In setting my Virginia s "spirit free. 
 My mother my own -mother, who died early. 
 
 Was but the mother of myself; but you 
 Are mother to the one 1 loved so dearly, 
 
 And thus are dearer than the mother I knew 
 P>y that infinity \vith which my wife 
 
 Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life. 
 
 I said, "Mr. POE, I will send for or write 
 to any one you desire me." 
 
 "Doctor," said he, "Death s dark angel 
 has done his work. Language cannot ex 
 press the terrific tempest that sweeps over 
 me, and signals the alarm of death. Oh, 
 (U>(1 ! the terrible strait I am in." 
 
 "Shall I write to any one for you?" 
 
 "Yes, Doctor, write to my mother-in-law 
 and Mrs. - -no, too late ! too late!" 
 
 Then he said, "Write to both at once; 
 write to my mother-in-law and tell her 
 4 Eddie is here - -no, too late ! Doctor, I 
 must unbosom to you the secret of my heart, 
 though dagger-like it pierces my soul. I 
 was to have been married in ten days." 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE, 69 
 
 He wept like a child, and even now I can 
 see his pale face that told too plainly the 
 depth of grief he felt, and the large tear 
 drops forcing their way down the furrows 
 of his pallid cheeks. 1 again asked.. "Shall 
 I send for the lady i" 
 
 " No, write to both ; inform them of my 
 illness pud death at the same time, and say 
 that no conscious act of mine brought this 
 great trouble upon me. How it has hap 
 pened that I am brought to this place, God. 
 only knows. My mind has kept no record 
 of time ; it seems a dream, a horrible dream/ 1 
 
 I said, "Mr. POE, my carriage is at fh<. 
 door ; I will send for the lady." 
 
 "No, 71 said he, "write to Mrs. Sarah E. 
 Shelton, Richmond, Va., and Mrs. Maria 
 Clemm, Lowell, Mass/ 1 
 
 Beef -tea and stimulants had been freely 
 given and kept up at short intervals. I re 
 mained by his side, watching every breath 
 and movement of his muscles. He had no 
 tremor or spasmodic action at this period, 
 which was twelve hours from his entrance 
 in the hospital. I noticed the color deepen 
 ing upon his cheeks and forehead, blood 
 vessels at the temple slightly enlarging. I 
 ordered ice to his head and heat to his ex- 
 
70 EDGAR ALLAN POE, 
 
 tremities, and waited in his room about fif 
 teen minutes longer, observing no change 
 except an increase in the circulation,J His 
 pulse, which had been as low as fifty, was 
 rising rapidly, though feeble and variable. 
 I left him for a short time, to attend to other 
 patients in the house. I had sent for his 
 cousin, Mr. Nielson A. Poe, now Judge Poe, 
 of the orphan s court of Baltimore, having 
 learned that he was related to my patient ; 
 and also for a Mr. Herring and family, who 
 lived in. the neighborhood. Judge Poe came 
 ns soon as notified and also the Misses Her 
 ring. These were the only persons who called 
 to see him until after his death, 
 
 POK continued in an unconscious state for 
 half an hour, but when roused he was con 
 scious. On visiting him again I found his 
 pulse feeble, sharp, and very irregular. I 
 took my seat by his bedside and closely 
 watched him for twenty minutes at least; 
 the pupils of his eyes were dilating and con 
 tract ing. Death was rapidly approaching- 
 
 J list at this moment my friend, Professor 
 J. C. S. Monkur, one of the oldest physicians 
 of the faculty, and who gave to me much 
 of his time at the hospital, came into the 
 sick chamber. As soon as he fixed his eyes 
 
EDGAK ALLAN POE. 71 
 
 upon the patient he said, "He will die; he is 
 dying now. 77 After a careful examination, 
 Dr. Monkur gave it as his opinion that POE 
 would die from excessive nervous prostra 
 tion and loss of nerve power, resulting from 
 exposure, affecting the encephalon, a sensi 
 tive and delicate membrane of the brain. 
 He advised the continuance of the remedies,, 
 including the beef-tea and stimulants. I 
 saw the patient lifting his hand to his mouth 
 as though he wanted a drink ; I put a small 
 lump of ice in his mouth, and gave him a 
 sip of water from a glass, to ascertain what 
 difficulty, if any, he had in swallowing. He 
 drank half a glass without any trouble. Pie 
 seemed to revive a little and opening his 
 eyes, he tixed them upon the window. He 
 kept them unmoved for more than a min 
 ute. I have, since that time, been forcibly 
 impressed with the wild fancies in that won 
 derful poem, "The Raven." Did he hear a 
 " gen tie tapping at the window lattice, 1 and 
 was his heart still a moment, "this mystery 
 to explore " 2 Did he see that stately raven 
 " perched upon his chamber door I Perched, 
 and sat, and nothing more." 
 
 The dying poet was articulating some 
 thing in a very low voice, and at length he 
 
72 EDGAR ALLAN FOE. 
 
 spoke more audibly and said, " Doctor, it s 
 all over." I then said, " Mr. POE, I must 
 tell you that you are near your end. Have 
 you any wish or word for friends?" 
 
 He said, " Nevermore." 
 
 At length he exclaimed: "O God ! is there 
 no ransom for the deathless spirit?" 
 
 I said, "Yes, look to your Saviour; there 
 is mercy for you and all mankind. God is 
 love and the gift is free." 
 
 The dying man then said impressively, 
 He who arched the heavens and upholds 
 the universe, has His decrees legibly written 
 upon the frontlet of every human being, 
 and upon demons incarnate." 
 
 1 then consoled him by saying, "He died 
 for you and me and all mankind. Trust in 
 His mercy." 
 
 How impressive are his words in "The 
 Eaven:" 
 
 1* there is there balm in (iileud? tell me tell me, I implore! 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 73 
 
 THE KAVEN. 
 * * * * * 
 
 Open here I. flung the shutier, when, with many a flirt and flutter, 
 In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore. 
 Not the least obeisance made he ; not a minute stopped or stayed he, 
 But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door 
 Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door 
 
 Perched, and sat. and nothing more. 
 
 But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only 
 That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour 
 Nothing farther then he uttered;^ not a feather then he fluttered 
 Till I scarcely more than muttered "Other friends have flown before 
 On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before." 
 
 Then the bird said "Nevermore." 
 
74 EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 " Prophet !" said I, u thing of evil ! prophet still, if bird or devil !- 
 
 Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, 
 
 Desolate vet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted 
 
 On this home by Horror haunted tell me truly, I implore 
 
 Is there is there balm in Gilead? tell me tell me, I implore!" 
 
 Quoth the Raven, Nevermore." 
 
 And the Raven, never Hitting, still is sitting, still is sitting 
 
 On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door ; 
 
 And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon s that is dreaming 
 
 And the lamp-light o er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor ; 
 
 And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor 
 
 Shall be lifted nevermore! 
 
 I here add my testimony to the fact that 
 POE did recognize the one Supreme Being, 
 who holds in His merciful hand the destiny 
 of all. 
 
 Hear his own deathless words : 
 
 Father, I firmly do believe 
 1 know, for death who comes for me 
 
 From regions of the blest afar, 
 Where there is nothing to deceive, 
 
 Hath left his iron gates ajar ; 
 And rays of truth you cannot see 
 
 Are flashing thro eternity." 
 
 The glassy eyes rolled back ; there was a 
 sudden tremor, and the immortal soul of 
 EDGAR ALLAN POE was borne swiftly away 
 to the spirit world. 
 
EDGAK ALLAN POE, 75 
 
 TOLLING BELLS. 
 
 The bells ! Ah, the bells ! 
 
 The heavy iron bells ! 
 
 Hear the tolling of the bells ! 
 
 Hear the knells ! 
 How horrible a monody there floats 
 
 From their throats 
 
 From their deep-toned throats ! 
 How I shudder at the notes 
 
 From the melancholy throats 
 
 Of the bells, bells, bells 
 Of the bells. 
 
 NOTE. The original draft of the poem, " The Bells," when first pub 
 lished contained eighteen lines, eleven of which we select for our pur 
 pose, being appropriate and significant. We are enabled so to do by 
 the courtesy of Mr. John \V. Sartain, who published the original poem as 
 it was first written. 
 
76 EDGAR ALLAN POE, 
 
 After POE S death his body received the usual 
 care and attention. He was clothed with a 
 suit of black, a white cravat, and a collar 
 about his neck. It may be of interest to the 
 readers to know how this suit of black was 
 obtained. I therefore take pleasure in re 
 cording the facts and giving credit to whom 
 credit is due. A resident student at the hos 
 pital named George McCalpin, from Ala 
 bama, gave the pants ; Albert Grey, a stu 
 dent from Leesburg, Va,, gave the coat ; the 
 writer a vest, neckcloth, etc. His coffin was 
 a plain one. To hide it from the gaze of 
 his numerous visitors and to avoid unpleas 
 ant criticism, my wife, with a few ladies in 
 the neighborhood assisting her, made a very 
 neat muslin covering for it. This was spread 
 over it and the body laid thereon. At night 
 its folds served as a covering for his person. 
 The coffin, as I have said, was a plain one, 
 simple in structure, void of cushion for his 
 head, and without lining, plated handles, or 
 plate for his name. The material of which 
 it w^as made was not what it appeared to be. 
 It represented walnut, but it was not ; it was 
 simply a poplar coffin, stained to imitate 
 walnut. I was not able then, out of my 
 limited means, to furnish a better one. This 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE, 77 
 
 I paid for out of my own purse, as you will 
 learn from the certificate of the undertaker 
 who made it. 
 
 U.vi/n.MoitK, December i 
 This is to certify that 1 made thecotiin for the body of KDGAK ALLAX 
 POK, and furnished the same by order of Dr. J. ,1. Moran, the resident 
 physician of the Washington Kniversity Hospital, on Broadway, Balti 
 more City, for which he paid me out of his own pocket. I was em 
 ployed as the undertaker for the institution during the time he had 
 charge of the same, which was upward of six years. 1 made it out of 
 poplar wood and stained it in imitation of walnut. 
 
 1 IJKDKKICK T. NKMtTII, 
 
 Witness: Undertaker. 
 
 WILLIAM .) AS. DEW. 
 
 My heart was in it. 1 furnished him the 
 best nursing- and attendance that the house 
 could afford, and paid the hackman s fare 
 who brought him ; and up to this time I have 
 not received a dime for it. I may be excused 
 for being so specific in my statements. I do 
 so to place myself properly before the public. 
 It w r as not a charity hospital ; my support 
 depended alone upon the receipts of the 
 house, and not one came forward to repre 
 sent POE or to look after his welfare. He 
 was sent there by some one unknown to 
 me, and as yet unknown. The patients or 
 their friends paid the usual charge in ad 
 vance. But there was no one at that day to 
 care for POE. He was friendless and penni 
 less. Nor did any one ever pay a single 
 
7S EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 penny for his expenses while in my care. 
 Yet it gave me pleasure to have the distin 
 guished poet in my charge, and I was proud 
 of the honor. 
 
 His body was laid in state in the large 
 room in the rotunda of the college building 
 a I joining the hospital, where it remained 
 from the 7th to the 9th of October. Hun 
 dreds of his acquaintances and friends came 
 to see him. At least fifty ladies received 
 a lock of his hair, the attendants waiting 
 upon them. It is generally received and 
 believed that he was brought to the hospital 
 in the night, and died before morning; and 
 it is reported to have been an unknown, out- 
 of-the-way hospital; that he was hid away 
 in the dark, visitors not being allowed to see 
 him, and was treated in all respects as a 
 poor castaway. A certain biographer has 
 recently written that u POE was four days in 
 a fit of delirium before he died ;" and his 
 cousin, Nielson Poe, is reported by this same 
 writer to have said that he, Judge Poe, called 
 to see him, but he was in such wild delirium 
 that admission was refused; that he sent 
 changes of linen, etc., to add to his comfort. 
 I take this opportunity to assert that both 
 statements are utterly untrue and without 
 the slightest foundation. 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE, 79 
 
 Much has been said and written with, re 
 gard to the great occasion of the dedication 
 of the POE -monument, on November 17, 
 1875, twenty-six years after the death of the 
 poet, together with the names of the distin 
 guished persons present, and who took part 
 in the ceremonies, all of whom are justly 
 entitled to much praise. 
 
 I desire to refer to a very touching inci 
 dent that occurred at the time and which 
 now conies to my mind with great force. 
 At the tomb of the poet on that memorable 
 occasion, when nearly all had left the sacred 
 precinct now wrapped in silence, a venera 
 ble form, clothed in black and having the 
 appearance of a prelate or minister in sacred 
 things, was seen leaning upon the base of 
 the shaft, apparently in deep devotion. The 
 scene was most impressive, and the effect so 
 decided upon the observer, who was a friend 
 to the stranger, that he has put it in verse, 
 several stanzas of which we give place to as 
 a fitting memorial to the dead poet. The 
 stranger was none other than Father Abra 
 ham J. Ryan, the poet-priest. 
 
 A stranger stood beside a tomb, 
 
 I [is manly form bent low, 
 The tenant of the tomb, in life 
 
 Was EDGAR ALLAN POK. 
 
80 EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 Was ho a brother who had come, 
 
 Fraternal tears to shed. 
 And with commingled love and pride 
 
 Claim kin with the buried dead? 
 
 Or one. on whom, by chance the dead 
 
 Had only simply smil d, 
 Who now would turn aside the veil 
 
 That hides this wayward child? 
 
 O, no ! tis strange to say the stranger 
 
 The sleeper never knew, 
 Though his tears have fallen in pearly chains, 
 
 Like drops of " Ilennon s dew." 
 
 But now ! the Ritual is read, 
 
 And the Requiem is sung, 
 At once by poet, priest and sasre, 
 
 With inspiration s tongue. 
 
 Ilenee, this tomb shall be an altar, 
 
 Where slander once held feast, 
 And genius consecrated, 
 
 Claims lirst the "poet-priest." 
 
 On October 9, 1849, when the body of POE 
 was consigned to the grave, the solemn and 
 impressive services, together with the namor 
 of those present and the clergyman who 
 officiated, Eev. W, T.I). Clemm, were made 
 known to the public. But a link has always 
 been wanting to make this part of POE S his 
 tory complete. From whence was his body 
 taken ( At wha.t hour did it leave the hos 
 pital ? Did any one feel sufficient interest in 
 the poet to follow his remains to the grave? 
 
EDGAR ALLAN FOE. 81 
 
 It is my privilege to furnish this link and to 
 make this part of the poetfs history com 
 plete. A hearse and hack were sent to the 
 hospital for the body of POE. They arrived 
 about 2,30 o clock P. M. The body with the 
 following attendants left the hospital at 3 
 o^clock: First among them was POE S most 
 ardent admirer, Delosia Gill, Esq., brother of 
 George M. Gill, Esq., Baltimore; then came 
 Professor Dupey, teacher of French ; Thos. 
 Adams, president New York Life Insurance 
 Company ; Mr. Herring, a relative ; Samuel 
 Leakin, son of ex-Mayor Leakin ; Dr. Thos. 
 Tebbs, Dr. John Johns, the Drs. Dilliard, Dr. 
 Brerwood, and Dr. Grey, from the institution 
 and Virginia ; George McCalpin, from Ala 
 bama; Dr. Wm. M. Cullen, Wm. Bishop, 
 steward of the house ; and I think Dr. Large, 
 Dr. Taylor, and at least a dozen students 
 of the college were in the funeral cortege. 
 
 The day was most unpleasant; a cold, 
 cheerless one, accompanied by a cold, drizzly 
 rain, nearly all day. Of the sympathizing- 
 friends and mourners present on the occasion, 
 many were men of culture and of note ; but 
 of all those who composed the throng and 
 mingled their tears over the dead, none bore 
 in their hearts the poignant sorrow and grief 
 
c 
 
 82 EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 of one who was absent, and the depth of 
 whose tenderness and affection could not be 
 estimated by mortal mind. I refer to the 
 mother-in-law of the poet, Mrs. Maria Clemm. 
 
 Soon after his death, as requested by the 
 poet, I communicated to this lady the sad 
 intelligence, to which she replied in strains 
 of the deepest sorrow, thanking me for the 
 attention I had bestowed, as will be seen by 
 reference to her letter now published in this 
 volume. 
 
 The appearance of the dead poet had not 
 materially changed; his face was calm and 
 placid; a smile seemed to play around his 
 mouth, and all who gazed upon him remarked 
 how natural he looked ; so much so, indeed, 
 that it seemed as though he only slept. 
 
 \ y ( >E was a handsome mm and was usually 
 dressed in black. His head Avas exquisitely 
 modelled ; his forehead very prominent and 
 largely developed, its measurement corre 
 sponding to that of Napoleon Bonaparte, a 
 cast of which was then in my possession ; 
 his skin was fair ; his hair was raven black 
 and inclined to curl ; his teeth were perfect ; 
 his eyes were brownish grey, large and full; 
 his weight about 145 pounds; height, five 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 h 
 
 feet ten inches ; his hands were as delicate 
 as a woman s. His whole appearance gave 
 signs of the highest birth and pedigree. 
 
 Never shall we be permitted to look upon 
 his equal again. He was one among the 
 greatest of nature s poets, blessed with a tran 
 scendent genius above any of his contempo 
 raries. He was a most affectionate hus 
 band and son. A kind and affectionate word 
 from his wife or mother-in-law melted his 
 sensitive nature to tears, and when his wife 
 was buried, he spent whole nights in anguish 
 at her grave. She was his dear " Lenore." 
 
 Unlike the Roman orator over the dead 
 Caesar, we come to cast laurels at the grave 
 of the distinguished dead poet, and to join 
 the great throng- in ascriptions of praise to 
 his genius. ^ 
 
 Tbongb cloud and shadow rest upon thy story. 
 
 And rude hands lift, tin- drapery of thv pall, 
 Time as a birth-riuht. shall restore thy glory, 
 
 And /;-///// rekindle all the st irs that fall. 
 
 I disparage my ability to express in fitting 
 terms the marvelous gifts of this singular 
 man. In the galaxy of great names that 
 adorn the literature of our country, none is 
 more radiant with the splendors of true 
 
84 
 
 EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 genius than that of POE. By the impartial 
 verdict of all fair-minded men, and by the 
 sober and dispassionate judgment of eminent 
 scholars and critics in both hemispheres, 
 the legacy of letters left to the world by this 
 child of song and sorrow entitles him to 
 the lasting gratitude of mankind, and the 
 crown of imperishable fame. 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE. 85 
 
 THE BELLS. 
 
 Hear the sledges with the bells 
 
 Silver hells ! 
 
 What a world of merriment their melody foretells! 
 How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, 
 
 In the icy air of night! 
 While the stars that oversprinkle 
 All the heavens, seem to twinkle 
 
 With a crystalline delight ; 
 Keeping time, time, time, 
 In a sort of Runic, rhyme, 
 To the tintinabnlation that so musically wells 
 From the bells, hells. Mis. bolls. 
 Bells, hells, bells- 
 From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells. 
 
 n. 
 Hear the mellow wedding bells. 
 
 ( i olden bells! 
 
 What a world of happiness their harmony foretells. 
 Through the balmy air of night 
 How they ring out their delight ! 
 From the molten-golden notes. 
 
 And all in tune. 
 What M liquid ditty floats 
 To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats 
 
 On the moon ! 
 
 Oh, from out the sounding cells. 
 What n gush of euphony voluminously wells! 
 How it swells ! 
 How it dwells 
 
 On the Future ! how it tells 
 
 Of the rapture that impels 
 
 To the swinging and the ringing 
 
 Of the bells, bells, bells. 
 Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, 
 
 Bells, bells, bells 
 To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells ! 
 
86 EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 in. 
 Hear the loud alarum bells 
 
 Bra/en hells ! 
 
 What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells! 
 In the startled ear of night 
 How they scream out their affright! 
 Too much horrified to speak, 
 They can only shriek, shriek, 
 
 < hit of tune, 
 
 In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the tire, 
 In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire, 
 Leaping higher, higher, higher, 
 With a desperate desire, 
 And a resolute endeavor 
 Now now to sit or never. 
 By the side of the pale-faced moon. 
 Oh, the hells, bells, bells! 
 What a tale their terror tells 
 
 ( )f I )espair ! 
 
 How they clang, and clash, and roar! 
 What a horror they outpour 
 On the bosom of the palpitating air! 
 Yet the ear it fully knows, 
 By the twanging, 
 And the clanging, 
 How the danger ebbs and Hows; 
 Yet the ear distinctly tells, 
 In tin- jangling, 
 And the wrangling, 
 How the danger sinks and swells, 
 Bv the -inking or the swelling in the anger of the bells 
 
 Of the bells 
 Of the bells, hells, bells, bells, 
 
 Bells, bells, bells- 
 Iu the clamor and the clangor of the bells! 
 
 IV. 
 
 Hear the tolling of the bells 
 
 Iron bells ! 
 What a world of solemn thought their monody compels! 
 
EDGAR ALLAN POE, 87 
 
 In the silence of the night, 
 How we shiver with affright 
 At the melancholy menace of their tone! 
 For every sound that floats 
 From the rust within their throats 
 
 Js a groan. 
 
 And the people ah, the people 
 They that dwell up in the steeple, 
 
 All alone, 
 And who tolling 1 , tolling, tolling, 
 
 In that muffled monotone, 
 Feel a glory in so rolling 
 
 On the human heart a stone 
 They are neither man nor woman 
 Thev are neither brute nor human 
 
 They are ( i IK nils: 
 And their king it is who tolls ; 
 And he rolls, rolls, rolls, 
 
 Rolls 
 
 A pu an from the bells! 
 And his merry bosom s\\cll> 
 
 With the p;ean of the hells! 
 And lie dances, and he yells; 
 Keeping time. time. time. 
 In a sort of Runic rhyme. 
 To the pa>an of the bells - 
 
 Of the bells; 
 
 Keeping time, time, time. 
 In a sort of Runic rhyme. 
 
 To the throbbing of the bells 
 Of the bells, bells, bells 
 
 To the sobbing of the bells; 
 Keeping time, time, time, 
 
 As he knells, knells, knell.-. 
 In a happy Runic rhyme, 
 
 To the rolling of the bells 
 Of the bells, bells, bells 
 
 To the tolling of the bells, 
 Of the bells, bells, bells, bells- 
 Bells, bells, bells 
 To the moaning and the groaning of the bells. 
 
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