, 1885-03-08
EDGAR A. POE.
THE POETS cHARAcrF HisUcs As
REMEMBERED BY A PRIEST.
A PAis-Faesd stranger with Dark. SAD
~Eyes-Rescne of a Drowning BOY
-rrimaI Cause OF the
Poets Death.

- 80 At"@ ANAAN't
had spent an hour in vain search for q
references book in the Astor library som
days ago, and was listlessly turning over the
monthly magazines In an out-of-the-way
nook, when my attention was attracted by a
venerable looking scholar at a table stretch
ing Its shining sxpanse OF oak between Us
He seemed to be intently perusing a maya
zno article, and ! was just a little bit
startled TO 500 him dash the book upon the
table with emphatic vigor, settle back in his
chair, and petulantly push his old fashioned
spsctacles high up among HIS snowy locks.
He must have caught my look OF astonish.
mont, for, pointing 70 the sighted magazine.
he fasped out, "Have you read thai thingi'
OF course ! asked for further information.
The article he pointed out concerned
@legends' attached 70 the life OF Edgar
Allan Poe.
The old gentleman arose and came over 10
my side He was tall, spare, and apparently
approaching the close OF his three score years
and ten. His dress was a rather worn suit
OF black, which hung loosely about his
frame. aud the Roman collar and stock en-
circling his throat plainly told that the
wearer was a Catholic clergyman. Leaning
over toward me the old gentleman said
smprsssi rely:
Young man, / once knew Edgar Poe, and
AN HH3" 49, = 49, AA& aAAa - &tNArH 49,"
and present, have described"
IL was a aeminhrian at st Sulpice," he
continued, when Louis Napoleon cousu
mated his famous coup d'etat. IL would
have been too long a story 70 tell you how I
managed TO cave Paris behind me and enter
the p~aternal door at Tours, where Il was de
cided that ! should take ship at Havre for
America. 1t was n sorrowful voyage for
me. and l landed In New York, n stranger
speaking u foreign tongue, utterly alone and
friendless, my chief wealth a letter 10
Bishop Hughes. then the active head II
the growing diocese OF New York. 1
was membe OF the bishops house
hold for "a few months, and finally,
through his Influence, obtained a
position as study master and teacher
OF French In the college at Fordham.
Then happened TO me what, now
that old age has fully seized me, l regard as
the most eFontful incident OF my quiet *
stencil met Edgar Allan Poo in the flesh
and formed his acquaintance.
The first time / ran across him was over
In the Fathers recreation hall In onvorsa
ton with the professor of PHILOSOPHY l no
ticed a pale faced stranger, whose Napole-
onic brow and dark sad eyes irresistibly
drow my attention At that noon hour
recreation l was introduced 10 him. He
was u EoO1 FIgucn tluJlAIf anu 4 uhu utNtI
met one as familiar with tho literature Of
my country. We were friends Immediately.
-Oh, but he was a strange man; a gen-
uino piece OF eccentricity. When / read, as
/ do continually, the abuse heaped upon
him ! think sadly how little man really
understands his fellows. Poo was not
vicious, but simply one borne down by un-
deserved misfortune, a gentleman suffering
from the koenest pangs Of poverty. ! used
TO got permisdon-in those days one was
hedgod in by many a little rule and regula.
tion-to 90 10 his poor little cottage up from
the village, with its cherry treei in front and
tho piece OF rock half imbedded in the vel
vet turf where he is said to ave sat and
shaped his best verses-especially the
'Ulalumo' Of his fmmemorial year of 1877
the year he buried his wife, Virginia clemm-
Indeed It was pitiful to sec his spirit con
fined To such a place. He used to loss nearly
all his grandeur, 1t seemed TO me, when be
entered his abode. How small tho rooms
werei How dwarfsd no bacamsi And then
his very nature changed; he became petu
liant. morbid, full OF restlessness. Out OF
doors, even when the winter cold came down
upon the hills, no was himself.
"His favorite route was the aqueduct road,
leading over to High bridge. Further up
the river. at the end OF tho Fordham roads,
was the bathing place Of the college boys
Il Is just beyond where the boulevard now
runs in a long stretch Of firm gravel At
this point the cross lane links down 10 the
river bank. Well, l was IN charge Of "a
skating battalion one winters day; the stu
dents had got the Father Rector's permits,
sion to go down 20 the river, and We set out
briskly for the ice. wasn't very vigorous
In those days, aud rs | couldn't skate my
sell, kept up "a rapid promenade between two
boniires made by the boys on the bank.
One little chap-it was SO long ago his name
has quits Rons from me had got beyond his
comrades, far out near the further shore,
when ! was startled by a cry from the boys
and a commotion, a scattering In all direc.
tons on this ice, which had already cracked
and separated, leaving an expanse OF dark
water plainly in view. And right In the
midst Of the current my poor little fellow
was being whirled along.
Il ave only an indistinct recollection OF
what Immediately happened, but as I was
running blindly down the bank toward the
treacherous Ice, a man rushing by mo turned
half around and shouted, Keep from the
ice lnstinctiyely / obeyed; the blood
rushed back to my heart; 1 recognized the
figure aud the old cloak that was cast aside
There was Il desperate plunge, q fierce battle
with the current. In another moment,
willing hands helped the rsscuer and his
pale and unconscious little burden out on
the ice and up to the fires on the bank. 1
remember what a strange, sad expr ession
was on Poe's face Is he picked up his tat
tered cloak and strobe of before we found
breath even to thank him. A kind villager
drove the shivering little skater whom lie
had 50 nobly rescued back to the village,
while ! quickly followed with my band.
When we got 70 the gates the Father Rec
tors carriage was whiriing down the lawn,
aud ] could easily guess whittier its errand
lay.
AFTER this incident / saw very little Of tho
poet He came over to the FatherAs library
sometimes, and / understood he was busy
over his Eureka" but l wasn't then alldMed
the freedom of the big musty volumes that
wore lying on the shelves there, and our in
timacy ceased as suddenly as 1t began. /
saw him afterwxrd out In the garden, back
OF the Rressnt buildings, but he abstractedly
passed me by without q word as ! walked
among the box -bedged paths. They told ne
he was niling. Ny last knowledge OF him
was obtained months later, when he had
been taken 10 his grave from the hospital In
Baltimore on that October Sunday Of 1S4e
And / AVE always thought that l knew
something more than tho public has sus
pected Of the primal cause OF Edgar Poe's
death. To me Il was the reckless, self-for
getting courage Of that winter day on the
Harlem and not alcoholism that planted the
real seeds Of that last disease =