The Bozeman weekly chronicle. (Bozeman, Mont.) 1883-1889, 1884-11-05
THE HOME OF THE RAVEN.
Where Edgar Allen Poe Lived and
Wrote His Famous Poem.

wrote HIS famOOS fOem.
The one house in Fordham which
stands pre-eminent among its neigh
bors in the richness OF lis history is the
little thatched cottage i'll which for
three years lived Edgar Allen Poe. 1t
was sold few days ago, and will be
preserved as relic of the singer. 1t
stands close up to the roadway, its
weather-worn sides in sharp contrast
with the pretty white picket fence in
front of it. The cottage is two stories
in height. The tiny windows have
heavy, green board shutters. and the
chimney shows in its yari-coiOred bricks
the handiwork of many masons. At
the back of it was built, some few years
ago, an clubhouse. in doing which the
tree upon whose branch the raven is
said to have croaked was cut down.
Nevertheless the imaginative and ex-
aggcrative villagers, with the assist
ance OF the carloads of romance and
sentiment which visit the place daily,
soon found another tree about or +
years old and perched the raven upon
its topmost limb. The residents seem
perfectly well aware that 4 good an
tiquity should have Il becoming history.
and with Il loyal good will set about
enabling this cottage to hold its own
with any other American relic. Could
the poet walk up the village road some
day. book in hand, rs he loved to do in
life, lie might for once forget his sor-
rows and smile ut the fic,ons.
There was no way TO get into the
house Yesterday except through back
window. rs tie family which did live
there nave lately moved away. A Mrs.
Vaen.in,. the daughter Of Mrs. Crom-
we'll, vino attended Poe's young wife,
Virginia GLENN, during her last hours,
showed the window open and told the
author 10 90 where he would and take
nothing away with him. The first room
entered was the dining room. The
walls were covered with bright paper
and the floor rainted blue. There was
no doubt about ii. The late residents
had determined as far rs paper and
paint could do it. to effectually choke
off ..The Raven"
Near this chamber is another six feet
square, with single mite Of a win
dow at the side, through which the
summer breeze blew in. 1t was here
tina! the poets wife died. without one
except her husband and Mrs. Cromwell
to soOthe her.
The family was so poor that there
was not even coverlid to the bed,
and the old army cloak which Poe had
50 terribly disgraced was thrown across
her.
Her death broke her husband down.
With three friends he removed the re-
mains from the narrow room to the
village vault. She now lies by his side
in Baltimore Over this room is the
apartment in which. according to pop
uiar tradition, 1.-The Raven" was writ
ten.
Iti low CHI: III Der, with a blue, slant
in: roof; an old-fashioned fireplace and
three windows, Two OF which look down
into the village and the third across the
fields.
Poe had wept over his wife, remains,
and to her memory he wrote ''The
Raven" so the village historian has it
and like almost everything else in
connection with Poe, has it wrong.
His wife died in 1848 and i'll 1S45 The
Raven was published in the american
RerieW.
The chamber docs not very much re-
semble the one of Gusiaye Dore's inn
agination, which is rich with bric-a.
brac and works of art. Poe never pos
sessed such luxuries. The big fire
place is perfectly true, and the instant
one steps into the room it is recog-
nizeu.
But its very narrowness shows the
Strengthened circumstances in which
Poe lived, and that there were no wings
nor bust of Pallas is true beyond doubt.
Poe did pass most of the time when
he was in the house, however, in this
room, which is about as uncomfortable
an apartment as one could wish to stay
in. The windows are only on one side
and so very small that any kind of a
desirable breeze would have to squeeze
itself to get in.
In Poe's time it was as dark and
wierd as the spirit of its master. Here
again the hand Of the later resident is
seen in the blue-streaked floor and the
daubs of color around which make it
look like the council room of Mason
10 lodge. The other rooms are as bad
both in ventilation and color. The
floor in many places is very old and
weak, and if the little concern should
blow down on the heads of the villag-
ers they could not say that no one
would expect it.
Among the people living in the vii
lage Poe has peculiar history. He
was accustomed, so the story runs. to
arise early every morning, and book in
hand start out for long walk. He was
an uncommunicative man and would
follow the bent of his pleasure through
the woods often all day long. speaking
to no one and stopping only to read u
passage over twice. Everything that
he ever did has been distorted. Noone
will admit for one minute that he wrote
either 'sThe Bells or ''The Raven in
mis- sober senses.
Such is literature in Fordham, and the
highest encomium that Il laiy, or in
deed any one else in lae village, could
bestow upon the author or his family
was that they were respectable, ana
this admission SEEMED 20 be made III ore
out of desire TO maintain the gooi re-
pute of the village than for any love
toward Poe. There was no doubt that
in this cottage, however, poor Poe pass
ed the happiest days of his life. He
was at the same time contributing to
leading journals, and but for his &C.
centricity and his love for whisky
could have made handsome compe-
tence. He wrote here Eureka" a
prose poem, and other works. He did
not remain long after the death of his
wife. desiring rather to try his fortune
around his foster fathers. home, Mr..
Allen, in Richmond. As usual, when
on the high road to fortune he manag-
ed to ruin his expectations, and having
made an engagement with a wealthy
lady, became gloriously drunk the
night before the wedding. which was
therefore declared .'off.' His wife,
Virginia. was no doubt very dear to
him, and that she loved him passion
ateiy is unquestionable. She was a
southern girl, dark and handsome, and
xuaS 1Ovad in tho will a ro nc ynr,ch &c hor