The Roanoke daily times. (Roanoke, Va.) 1895-1897, 1896-12-13
BIRTH OF "THE RAVEN"
Conceived in Theatre and Written I'm.
der Broadway Lamp.

the Bachelor of Arts tells of ''rhc ta
ven, AS follows:
One day when l was II child of IL or 10,
l stood tiptoeing in my unce'5 Office; my
eye was caught by an engraving hung
high over the lamp bracket at one side of
the chimney place. it was the portrait
of II mans face, dark sad. proud irresist-
able almost in the attraction of its deep
eyes and the suggestive curve of the
weak, though naughty, mouth. Under
meath the picture was written in II beau.
tiful, firm, small even hand: "To my
friend, Cornelius Matthews, from his
devoted friend, Edgar Allen Poe
SIS that the man who wrote "rhc Ra-
ven?" I asked, breathlcss in my gaze ut
the weird, spiritual face it seemed to me,
Pickering with suppressed life at that
very moment in the flare of the smoky
little lamp below it.
My uncle nodded, laid down his pen,
and wheeled his chair nearer to the fire.
"Do you want to know how The RAJ
ven was written;' he asked me, as l
drew II bit nearer to him and the blaze
OF course did; hungry for the ecrie
and the strange, | fairly shivcred with
delightful anticipation then over its first
hearing, rs have many times since when
| have begged for its repetition from my
unclc's lips. 1t is because | have heard
it so often that am able to put down so
accurately the picturesque little history
of ut least one of (if nos the exceptional
phases OF Il poem that has run the gnmut
of the world and cnsnureG its ever reader.
cit was in the winter of l-.lj, - began
my uncle, 81 drizziing night full of chill
and murk, and shifty with freaks OF in
east wind that shivcred against the lamp
posts and rattlcl the swinging signs all
along Broadway broadway us not then
what il is no. and own such night years
ago the warm flare of the gas mt the en-
trance to the Park Theatre. the old Park
Thcatrc.Gown yonder in.parh row seemed
very attractive to IL young man still in
his POS, and with II play of HI own in his
desk, irto which lie had put his best |
crossed over and went in. found Edgar
Poe in the seat beside mine: we shook
hand: we mad known each other for some
years by letter, and for some months face
To face.
"lIc was one of the most courteous and
attentive listeners | have ever cncoun-
tered, and, with delicacy and interest
unbounded, h. inquired rs to the play
was then so intent upon. 1t was Witch
craft, and as briefly rs I could | outlined
the plot to him. AS | came to the close
of the fourth act depicting the horror
convinced that his mother is indeed II
witch, behol,lng rs he does the signs in
the elements and in the sky, Poe. his
"tze fixed before him, said in his low me-
lodious voice, Mr.. Matthews, why do YOU
rot III this point have II raten--that bird
of ill-omen-iiit across the stage over the
witch's head? Do you know, he went
or, his eyes still rivetcd upon the glowing
space before him, his voice so low that it
could not disturb his nearest ncighbor.
that that bird-that imp bird-pursues
me mentally pcrpetually; cannot rid
myself of its presence; as | sit here |
seem to hear the melancholy of its croall
as used to hear it in my boyish DAYS at
school in Stoke NewingtOn: | seem to
hear the sordid flap cf its wings in my
ears. | wonder, Mr.. Mathews he said
to me, now looking me squarc!y in the
face, If Dickens has ever been haunted
with the raven rs am; wonder if the
raven in 'Barnaby Rud"c' is his expires.
sion OF the monoronous power the bird
has had over his mind. What do YOU
Think
'Candidly,' answered, from "A long
correspondence with Dickens | take him
to be man so little inclined to the intro.
spectivc that his presentation OF l}arra.
hy's raven is likely to nave been more for
effect than from the result of deep
cause.
"'I see, said Poe, 'thnt is precisely it.
some men sway tribes foibes. or events
10 their own shaping others he shifted
his gaze back to the space no doubt peo-
pied by his fancieS-'are swaycd and
swung hither and fro by whispers heard
only by themselves.
'llalf an hour later came ont, jumped
into an omnibus and away it went rat
tling over the cobbcstones-oh. yes,
nothing smoother in those old iays-up
through the width of Broad way. We had
reached Bleeckcr street, when there, in
the circle of II sickly yellow light under
the lamp post, | beheld Poe standing,
writing on the margin of paper appa-
rently utterly oblivious of everything
around him. l pulled the strap and
dashed out, and yet then something made
me pause as l saw nina something that
shone as the glitter of stars in Il hot sum-
mer night III the depths of his gray eyes
Il something that eNuded from his white
brows where the dark curls, Scmmed
with the frozen raindrOps, sparklcd i'll
the meager light of the almost deserted
thoroughfarc; but for i'm instant when
common sense came To my aid, combined
with Il common feeling for Il man stand
ing inviting disease in such weather as
this.
Poe" ! cried, touching him lightly
on the shoulder, as held the umbrella
over his head.
with IL curious urbanity-a ecntleness
which yet spoke TO me in other language
and told me of his chagrin at being inter
rupted-he greeted me and thanked me.
ana sad, answering my earnest queries
rs to why he had given me the Slip ana
deprived me of the pleasure OF his com
pany ut supper
thank you very much; | could not
have eaten or DRUM; or slept. or gone IL
step farther than this, or waite Il mo