The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1879-08-20
PoE's WONDERFUL INTERPRETER.


The Old Richmond Negro Whom the Poet
Taught to Recite His Lines.
New YorR SUM-
"Do you see that fne-looking old negro
coming down the street, with blue coat and
brass buttons, and slight limp in his gait?"
said my friend W, as we were walking
up Main street. Richmond.
Eyes" / replied.
"Well, sir, that was formerly the body
servant of Edgar Allen, the gentleman who
| adopted Poe. We take great pleasure in the
old darkey here, and hardly week passes
that he does not assist at some private enter
| tainment. Though he can neither read nor
write, his memory serves him. and almost
all the poetry Poe taught him he retains, and
he delivers it well. You must know him."
By this time we had approached, and my
friend introduced james Stirling. A fine
specimen of negro he was-tall, well-shaped,
and but little bowed, though 20 winters had
frosted his hair, and 'tried to twist his joints,
he said. He was on his way to Zion church,
where he was deacon and trustee and was a
little late.
| "But want to introduce you to my New
| York friend, who is a great admirer of Massa
| Poe's poetry" said W That was
enough to deter the old fellow, and without
any seeming PRIDE but all affection, he
| removed his hat the second time
and stood the rest of the interview un-
covered. We talked long enough for me to
| get his promise of an afternoon conference at
| Wallaces tobacco warehouse where he was
| night Waterman.
| NY thoughts all sermon time were of the
| negro and the treat in store for me; and l
learned from him afterward that more of the
spirit of Poe than of God possessed him
through his morning service.
u. Il r. i I. IL.
warehouse, and soon the limping step of the
negro sounded but little way off. He came
wiping his brow, heated more by the excite
ment that the occasion promised than by the
weather. A quick recognition and hasty
entrance and we were alone. He seated me
on rather dilapidated stool in the second loft
and there began his tale the poets life. The
incidents were of the common sort of childish
scrapes, outbreaks of temper, gambling, de-
bauchery. and the end in Baltimore, the sigh:
of which, "thank God, he (Sterling) had been
sparedl"
These were of no interest to me. for they
were out of all reason, and We're unlicensed
inasmuch as Poe had had bright example ane
kindliest discipline. But when the old Negro
came to reeiting Poe's lines, hethrew so mucl
fervor into them that / felt the poets spirit
and remained entranced and delighted
What voice, and what controll TIL
, telling of .Annabel Lee was made NOR
, pitiful than you can imagine; and so wer
many other of the shorter poems. But 9TH
Bells went beyond all my idea of human
power. "Massa Poe had told him there wa
no use trying to make sleigh bells, but ia,
made him stop and listen to all fire and fun
! eral bells" And well had he studied them
: and what delight it must have been for Pc
to hear him initiate them, making them nea
i | or distant. With poor acoustics, still h
= made that old loft ring out his pleasure, hi
fear, or his grief, as the poet had taught hir
to feel and to express them-until with dyin
measure and echo he pronounced, 'To tn
: moaning and the groaning of the bellsl" an
A burst into tears.
q The Raven was given in mood
: revery, until the first response of the birt
: then jocularly, then with great seriousness
b and, finally, exasperated to madness, the il
!: terpreter threw the box, that had served hiI
y as seat and rostrum, at the imaginary Dir,
. and fell PROSTATE His voice in the last lint
e weakened to a husky whisper, and his eye
| wandered with the shadow on the floor"
: have seen Salvini in ''Civil Death, and ca
" only instance him an approach to tn;
r negro's abject terror and surrender.
r. Two nights afterward l slept in the poet
q room in the old Main street mansion, whel
a conclusively to my mind were started IL
e thoughts that produced "The Raven an
' THE Bells" The room had an oriole wiz
Is dow and deep door castings, and the furnitul
= was old-fashioned and heavy. The stuff
= raven was there "above the door," the blu
n of Pallas was missing. As soon as / saw Il
y bird in position l grasped the whole situate
J. and could imagine the poet watching, as
N lay with his hands under his head (as was
a. habit) the moving curtains, the fickerir
,e candle light, and the shadows. Until lor
h. past midnight busted myself in changir
3. the ravens position, trying to get his shade
II on the floor, and succeeded. Satisfied wi
n that, l tried to sleep, but twas no use, eve
rs sound was magnified, and the fire bell W
nj my only relief.
re- remember that Poe in answering certa
n malicious articles as to the conception of t
a craven" wrote that it was simply mocha
~ ical effort, and that the last stanza was VIZ
or ten first / was convinced of the partial u
i truth of that statement, A stronger ner
ne man than Poe would have treated different
he sound and shadow, and could imagine hi
he scared beyond sleep and giving his fan
Nv rein, while the bird and the fire bell we
he simply the motives.
What became of the negro?
4 We buried him in 1866, and james 7. Bl
IS dy, Kate Bateman, and myself paid the e
err penses.