THE WASHINGTON TIMES SFXDAY JTJEY 5 190B

THE TRUE HISTORY Or EDGAR ALLAN POE CHILD OE DESTINY

S

1 I

House Once Occupied by the Widow Meagher An Old Haunt of Poes Poe Was Born in This House House in Which Poe Wrote The Bells1 J

His Birthplace and the Janner of His sad DeathTraditions That ProveHim to Have Been theVictim of Circumstances-His Immortal VerseThe

Written During aVisit to Baltimore-

By ELIZABETH ELLICOTT POE

malevolent spirit of destinykeeps watch and ward over

ways of human genius wasthe tutalarjr angel of Edgar Allan PoefronTtheTJradle to the grave

he turned there was the Iron decree which while separating him fromthe mass rendered him miserably unhappy Never was man more blessedwith biographers who were In the majority of cases selfappointed than Ed-

gar Allan Poe And each with hardlyan exception has been guilty of minor ormajor misstatements From Griswold toHarrison they either rtfake the oddstatement that the place of birth orlineage is immaterial to tho poeticmakeup or say with a hidden air ofapology that Poes grandfather was aVirginia wheelwright who ground out thevery wheels that Edgar is credited withcarrying In his head

Now with our friend Bobbie Burns itdoes not matter overmuch about therank and even loss about the guineastamp A mans a man for a thatBut no one will deny least of all Inthese days of Daughters of the AmericanRevolution and feverish search Into thegraves and secrets of our forefathersthe virtue of having ancestors whofrom the common ground of the peopleperformed some act that elevated themto posts above their fellows for thatis how the primitive titles and nameswere earned by sheer merit

The name Poe which is an Americancorruption of De La Poor or Le Poor

old Italian one antedating the nameof the Rivor Po which followed the an-

cient spelling of the family it was namedfor The family like other AngloNorman settlors in Ireland passed throughNormandy from Italy and thencethrough England and Wales into Irelandwhere for a long period they retainedhereditary Italian traitsof the family were found in Ireland asearly as 1327 but now the name was inGallic form Lc Poor Where was EdgarPoe born I have boon shown the housein Norfolk Va where ho came into theworld Bostonians have assured mewith an awful emphasis that his firstworldly home was In their quaint townbut as a matter of fact Maryland notMassachusetts or Virginia can Justlyclaim tho weird poet of the night asher own

In January 1S09 the Hopkins Theat-

rical Company of which the poetsparents wore members was filling anengagement at tho Holliday Street Ths-

atcr Baltimore a famous playhousewhere the best talent of the early partof the nineteenth century performed andwhich was the first theater in the UnitedStates to bo lighted by gas On theevening of the nlnteonth of the monthEdgar the second child of David andElizabeth Poo was born in a boardinghouse at No 9 Front Street Baltimoretwo doors from tho shot tower Theplace was kept by a Mrs Beard who

ells

THE

1

s-

an

Every-

where

Descendants

¬

¬

¬

¬

¬

¬

¬

Scorn in Which Poe Composed The Bells

Ir I4

afterward asserted that she had to pro-

vide clothes for the little stranger Thehouse Is now utilized as a German drink-ing saloon and this spot where loversof The Raven and The Bells shouldworship and revere is now desecrated bytho clinking of beer glasses and thehilarity of their devotees Boston saysPoe was born in that city on that event-

ful night which meant much for Ameri-

can literature But the Hub of theUniverse must grant that many a poethas never breathed the combined fragrance of cod and salt air from herclassic back bay

The Infant Edgar was seen by members of the Poe family when he was buta day and a halt old and on such occasions and aunts are notapt to be mistaken There is everyproof of his Baltimore birth The

Baltimore Sun in commenting on hisdeath says Mr Poe we believe was anative of this town Baltimore Thereseems to have been no question of itduring his lifetime it only arose whenhis fame was assured and othor citiesawaking to realization of his merit de-

manded a share of the spoils The worldknows the history of his life until histragic death He was not as much avictim of drink as a victim of circum-stance Old friends and neighborsmothorInlaw teachers and boyhoodand college mates have refuted thisfabrication There is a legend in ourfamily that stimulant in the lightestform would excite him and act almostInstantly on hls nerves A cup of cof-

fee has been known to have the effect ofliquor His Raven was not writtenwhile in the madness of delirium trem-

ens No delirium tremens does not havethat effect If it did how many poets ofnowadays would gladly indulge in fieryliquors In the effort to also write a

Raven or an equal masterpieceAddicted to the use of liquor he may

pave boon but he was not known as adrunkard during his lifetime To be unfortunate Is not to be evil To my mindthe quality of evil is never to be applied-to the unfortunate Their actions areboyond their own volition They toowould be honorable but craving denies them this privilege CrimeIs a moral starvation that should benursed and fed until tho spirit reborninto life casts away the crust of crimeand grasps the loaf of rectitude

The Bells that haunting bit of wordmelody was not the inspiration of MrsWhitman but a Baltimore poem written

grandmothers

physical

i

¬

¬

¬

¬

¬

¬

¬

¬

¬

¬

¬

¬

in one of those periodical visits to Bal-

timore after the death of Virginia whenwith an Inborn love of the Marylandcity he would return to the Joyhauntedretreats of youth and manhood Thehouse where this famous poem waswritten still stands and a visit to itlast week awoke many reminiscencesfrom Its occupants Judge Guiles whowas Poes host that memorable nightwhen the wild resonant music of thesleighbells awoke like music in thepoets heart is dead The room Poequitted eo quietly after the divine fireleft him is still utilized as a law oHcoand strange to say is occupied by thegrandnephew of Judge Guiles A ParlettLoyd a pension attorney of

Near Hollingsford Street on PrattStreet It was not difficult to locate theoyster shop of Widow Meaghers whoretho prize story The Gold Bug waswritten on top of an oyster barrel for adesk and with the noises of outgoing andincoming customers powerless to disturbthe sublime flow of Poes inspirationTrue to tradition the place Is still agroggery but how surprised the presenthabitues would probably be if they knowwho had preceded them In frequentingthe quaint tavern The circumstances ofthe drugging of Poe have ever beenshrouded in mystery No one could tollthem but Poe himself and members ofthe Plug Uglles gang They were mem-

bers of a secret society and tholr lipswore therefore sealed The poet neverregained consciousness long enough torelate the truth The tales of besottedmen have no value for in all proba-bility they were not thought of untilafter years had rendered any storyplausible Family tradition and recordshowever have this authentic version ofthe finding of Poe on the night of October 3 1849

My grandfather a first cousin of thepoet was passing down Baltimore Streeton the nIght of the 3d of October whenhe saw lying under the steps of the oldBaltimore Museum corner of Baltimoreand Calvert Streets a man in what hethought was a drunken stupor It waselection night and his first thought wasthat It was someone overcome with theindulgence of the day Pity for the unfortunate caused him to bend over theman when to his amazement he sawIt was his cousin Edgar Quickly sending a messenger to Nollabn Poe anothercousin who lived near he took a car-riage and placing the still unconsciouspoet in It took him to the Washington

Baltimore

¬

¬

¬

¬

¬

¬

¬

Room in Which the Poet Died

nn nn mi

I

= =

EDGAR ALLAN POEI

1

University Hospital now the ChurchHomo on North Broadway For overthroe days the doctors worked

to at least restore him to con-

sciousness but in vain Tho case wasdiagnosed as drug poisoning and ex-

posure and combined with a weak heartproved fatal On Sunday morning Octo-

ber 7 as the Angelus was ringing all-

over the city his passed with themusic of the bolls out Into the surgingsea of death Followed to the end by

his atfendunt guardian his taut wordshave been reported how accurately I

cannot say Would to God someonewould blow my damned out

Tho following day a little funeral trainwont through the city of Baltimore Noone turned to look after it and yet itwas the Monumental Citys most giftedson thus going to his long rest Not abell tolled except perhaps those hellsof fancy ho had immortalized ReachingWestminster ohurohyard where his an

soul

unavail-Ingly

brains

¬

¬

¬

¬

castors were buried he was placed inan open grave in lot 27 by the side otDavid Poe hIs grandfather the

patriot The committal servicewas road by the Rev W D Clemm adistant relative of Virginia ClemmEven in death the silence ho craved wasdenied him for the noises of the citysurge outside the gates but they do notmar the pence of the grave

In after years the providedby the family being destroyed Miss SaraSlgourney Rico principal of the WesternFemale High School having her

aroused by his neglected gravecollected funds for a small monumentunder which ho was reintorred with

and Mrs Clemm with Imposingceremonies and In tho presence of alargo crowd In 1875

Poor Edgar Poe tho world saysHow poor The rewards the pleasuresof genius lie in the soul of genius ItselfWhat does it matter what the worldthinks Its afterremorse is enough

sym-pathies

VIr-

ginia

1

Revo-

lutionary

monument

t

r

¬

¬

¬

I A By EDGAR AUANPQE r IVPRANHow shall the burial rite be read

The solemn song be sungThe requiem for the loveliest dead

That ever died so young

Her friends are gazing on herAnd on her gaudy bier

And to dishonorDead beauty with a tear

They loved her for her wealthAnd they hated her for her

But she feeble healthAnd they love her that she died

They tell me while they speakOf her costly brolderd pall

That my voice Is growing weakThat I should not sing at all

Or that my tone should beTuned to such solemn song

So mournfully so mournfullyThat the dead may feel no wrong

weepoh

prIdegrewIn

Head an Oyster BarrelUsed as a Desk UponWhich was Indited theGreat Puzzle Story ofThe Gold Bug Bur-

ied Beside His Grandfathe at

Westminster

tributo to genius XOh if he would return we would recognize his greatnessBut tho answer true to humanityas ever Ye have Moses and the proph-ets how would you believe ORe whoreturned dead1riTti

of Edgar Allan Poe sold for mererHtances are veritable totholr present fortunate owners the

who disowned his father are proudre claim his son and the literati of thisand foreign countries have no HesitancyIn ranking him as one of the AmericanImmortals

of

from

tI erin Church lard

corals

the manu-scripts

gold minesfam-

ily

¬

¬

¬

Therefore to thee this night-I will no requiem raise

But waft thee on thy flightWith a Paean of old days

LAW OF THE CONSERVATION-OF ENERGY IN LARGE CITIES

e

see those people picking up

cans John said Mrs

who was a Yore deVere I wonder why they do It

Tho big slxtyhorsepowcr Mors carwas sweeping on past one of the

dumps where the ashes of the citysfires are thrown Those people willsell the cans to old rag and bone menwho in turn pass them on to large factories in New York There tho tincans are made never guess

it my for elevators andwindow sashes said old Glennan whostarted In life as newsboy and is agraduate of the University of HardKnocks

Mr Glennan is right even though whatho says sounds suspiciously like afairy tale Tin cans arc put to otherpurposes besides quick lunches forgoats and persuaders for tho lucklesssmall dog When the cans are deliver-ed at the foundry they aro piled upunder a hood of iron which tapersinto a chimney They are thensprinkled with oil and set afire Theheat consumes the labels homes thedirt and melts the soldering Tho sold-ering Is collected washed molted againand cast Into ingots which are sold

Some cans have lapped Joints and meltapart completely These are sorted out

JUST

large

Intoyouddearweights

a

C

¬

¬

¬

But she is gone aboveWith young Hope at her

And I am drunk with loveOf the dead who is my bride

Xk

Of the dead dead who liesAll perfumed thore

With the death upon her eyesAnd the life upon her haIr

Thus on the coffin loud and long

I strike the murmur sentThrough the gray chambers to my song

Shall be the accompaniment

Thou dledst in thy lifes JuneBut thou didst not die too fair

Thou didst not die too soonNor with too calm an air

From more than friends on earthThy life and love are rlven

To join the untainted mirthOf more than thrones in heaven

side

>

the sheets of tin are straightenedand bound into bundles They are sold

wonderful to say to the trunkmakers who reenforce tho cornors of Saratogas with them So that the can fromwhich Mrs Wiggs ate her tomatoes reappears in social circles as the guardian of Mrs Chatfleld ChatfleldTayloratrunk at Naples or the Gorman spas

Buttoomakers briy the strips of tinaud vac them for the discs out of whichclothcovered battens are made ThusGotrox may upon his silklinedPrince Albert the very tin which DustyRhodes cast aside as he passed theash heap

The other machinemade cans areloaded into carts and taken to thocupola which Is a big fed

with cans and by turns When thetin is heated to liquid form and thoslag skimmed off the metal is pouredoff into molds in the form of weightsThese weights round and smoothand when broken off shew crystals

like the spokes of a wheelThe next tune you ride in nn eleva-

tor my dear snld oW Gleanan thinkhow beside the liftboyhave worked to take you to tine bargainfloorMy dear John why do you tell mesuch things Goof Eii iyuj how verycoarse

and

WearI

are

c

furnacecoke

ra-diating

a

s ft

¬

¬

¬

¬