well I originally had quite a different picture I was going to use but in view of my last post and a chat with my lovely Let’s CUT the Crap! I have decided to do this now instead and so let’s begin
at the end
Poe is buried in the Old Western Burial Ground in Baltimore, Maryland. Every January 19, Poe’s birthday, for more than fifty years a man dressed in black and fedora has left cognac accompanied by three red roses on Poe’s grave.
An account by Hervey Allen, August 1927:
[Poe] traveled by steamer to Baltimore and arrived there on September twentyninth. Exactly what happened to him in that city cannot now be ascertained. An election was in progress, and the preponderance of evidence points to the fact that he began to drink and fell into the hands of a gang of repeaters who probably gave him drugged liquor and voted him. On October third he was found by Dr. James E. Snodgrass, an old friend, in a, horrible condition at a low tavern in Lombard Street. Summoning a relative of Poe, Dr. Snodgrass had the now unconscious and dying poet taken in a carriage to the Washington Hospital and put into the care of Dr. J. J. Moran, the resident physician. Several days of delirium ensued with only a few intervals of partial consciousness. He called repeatedly for one "Reynolds," and gave vent to every indication of utter despair. Finally on Sunday morning, October 7, 1849, "He became quiet and seemed to rest for a short time. Then, gently, moving his head, he said, 'Lord help my poor soul.'" As he had lived so he died--in great misery and tragedy.
how awful that one of life’s great characters has gone in such a drastic way. now then to a short summary of his life;
the life of Mr Edgar Allen Poe
Edgar Poe was born in Boston on January 19, 1809. His parents were David and Elizabeth Poe. David was born in Baltimore on July 18, 1784. Elizabeth Arnold came to the U.S. from England in 1796 and married David Poe after her first husband died in 1805. They had three children, Henry, Edgar, and Rosalie.
Elizabeth Poe died in 1811, when Edgar was 2 years old. She had separated from her husband and had taken her three kids with her. Henry went to live with his grandparents while Edgar was adopted by Mr. and Mrs. John Allan and Rosalie was taken in by another family. John Allan was a successful merchant, so Edgar grew up in good surroundings and went to good schools.
When Poe was 6, he went to school in England for 5 years. He learned Latin and French, as well as math and history. He later returned to school in America and continued his studies. Edgar Allan went to the University of Virginia in 1826. He was 17. Even though John Allan had plenty of money, he only gave Edgar about a third of what he needed. Although Edgar had done well in Latin and French, he started to drink heavily and quickly became in debt. He had to quit school less than a year later.
Edgar Allan had no money, no job skills, and had been shunned by John Allan. Edgar went to Boston and joined the U.S. Army in 1827. He was 18. He did reasonably well in the Army and attained the rank of sergeant major. In 1829, Mrs. Allan died and John Allan tried to be friendly towards Edgar and signed Edgar’s application to West Point.
While waiting to enter West Point, Edgar lived with his grandmother and his aunt, Mrs. Clemm. Also living there was his brother, Henry, and young cousin, Virginia. In 1830, Edgar Allan entered West Point as a cadet. He didn’t stay long because John Allan refused to send him any money. It is thought that Edgar purposely broke the rules and ignored his duties so he would be dismissed.
In 1831, Edgar Allan Poe went to New York City where he had some of his poetry published. He submitted stories to a number of magazines and they were all rejected. Poe had no friends, no job, and was in financial trouble. He sent a letter to John Allan begging for help but none came. John Allan died in 1834 and did not mention Edgar in his will.
In 1835, Edgar got a job as an editor of a newspaper because of a contest he won with his story, “The Manuscript Found in a Bottle“. Edgar missed Mrs. Clemm and Virginia and brought them to Richmond to live with him. In 1836, Edgar married his cousin, Virginia.
Sometime in 1840, Edgar Poe joined George R. Graham as an editor for Graham’s Magazine. During the two years that Poe worked for Graham’s, he published his first detective story, “The Murders in the Rue Morgue” and challenged readers to send in cryptograms, which he always solved. Poe left Graham’s in 1842 because he wanted to start his own magazine but his efforts failed.
In 1845, Edgar Poe became an editor at The Broadway Journal. A year later, the Journal ran out of money . He and his family moved to a small cottage near what is now East 192nd Street. Virginia’s health was fading away and Edgar was deeply distressed by it. Virginia died in 1847, 10 days after Edgar’s birthday.
In June of 1849, Poe left New York and went to Philadelphia, where he visited his friend John Sartain. Poe left Philadelphia in July and came to Richmond. He stayed at the Swan Tavern Hotel but joined “The Sons of Temperance” in an effort to stop drinking. He renewed a boyhood romance with Sarah Royster Shelton and planned to marry her in October.
On September 27, Poe left Richmond for New York. He went to Philadelphia and stayed with a friend; James P. Moss. On September 30, he meant to go to New York but supposedly took the wrong train to Baltimore. On October 3, Poe was taken to the hospital. He lapsed in and out of consciousness . Edgar Allan Poe died in the hospital.
and so there we have it such is his life and how we see that he had a good education far better than most got at that time and how lucky he was to have been adopted by a good family and yet it guaranteed nothing, no amount of education saved him from the bottle and in a sense many would say his drinking lead to his death although we cannot actually place ourselves in his shoes and then narrate the circumstances of his last few days but it could be said that if he hadn’t of relied so heavily on alcohol then he may have followed quite a different path. In my honest opinion I think he died of a broken heart, sounds romantic doesn’t it? but in reality it is far from it; in reality the pain suffered when losing a loved one eclipses all else and destroys the ability to think properly, each day lurches into the next everything tainted by the deepest pain, a real physical pain that grabs the gut and twists without mercy and the heavy agony that grips the throat and tears it sandpaper like and squeezes the air from your lungs, – some think they are lucky that they never feel this sheer, intense pain but then I often feel that those who have never loved have never lived and no matter how hard this pain hits you I would rather have lived with knowing such love in my life than to not have known this feeling.
love and peace be with you all and give your loved ones an extra hug for just being there and bringing love into your life.