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[For The Sunny South.]
EDGAR ALLEN [[ALLAN]] POE.
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BY W. E. H. SEARCY.
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This unique and original genius, as is well known, was born in Boston in 1809, and at two years of age was left an orphan. He was adopted by Mr. John Allen [[Allan]], a rich merchant of Virginia who gave him the advantages of a collegiate education, both in Europe and America.
In person, he was of medium height, lightly built; his eyes were large and lustrous, his hair of ebon blackness. He was a polished, courteous gentleman, of rare conversational powers.
In 1837 [[1836]], he married his cousin, Virginia Clew [[Clemm]], with whom he had lived eleven years. After her death, he met a lady whom he had loved in early life, and soon engaged to marry her. A few days before the wedding, was to have taken place, he left Richmond for Philadelphia, to bring his mother-in-law, Mrs. Clew, to witness the ceremonies; but, unfortunately, stopped in Baltimore to drink with some friends, where, after a drunken spree of several days, he was found in a state of torpor, and died October 7, 1849.
It is a gloomy thought that such splendid genius, such a rising light of fame, should be quenched in the wine-cup. But the insidious tempter is no respecter of persons. It drags down all the low and the lofty to ignominy and death.
As a writer, Poe's style is peculiar to himself; many of his metrical combinations being new and of his own creation. His words were so grouped together as to illustrate the peculiar affinity of their sounds and sense. His “Bells” is a stringing example of this peculiarity. When properly rendered, the jingling of the bells can be heard upon the sledges “as they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, in the icy air of night,” and be really distinguished from those other bells that make the “molten, golden notes,” or tell a tale of terror, or make us shiver with affright at the “melancholy menace” of their tones. This poem is quite a favorite with elocutionists, as its proper rendition give the key to their beautiful art.
There is a sadness pervading this poet's life, which now and then finds utterance in his finest refrains. His “Raven” seems to have had its birth in such a mood. What is more melancholy than the picture of a soul nevermore to be lifted from out the shadow of a never-flitting raven, that sits with demon-dreaming eyes just above the s [[sic]] chamber door.
Some of Poe's love sonnets are beautiful. There is haunting sweetness in “Annabel Lee.” It is like a refrain of the waves or the sound of the wind in the pines on an autumn night:
“The moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes,
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so all the night time I lie down by the side
Of my darling — my darling — my life and my bride.”
Future ages cannot fail to recognize the poetic powers of this great man; and his name, embalmed with immortality by the Muses, will survive the mutability of time.
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Notes:
This text is taken from an undated clipping in the Ingram Collection, item 687. The catalog dates it as ca. May 15, 1876, but May 27 is more likely given the reply by Mrs. Weiss. Sunny South was printed every Saturday, and May 15 is a Monday. While May 20 is also possible, her letter is dated May 27, 1876, and was presumably written immediately upon reading the original article. The nature of the clipping makes it impossible to determine the page and column number, and no copy of this issue has been located. The volume and issue number are based on a surviving copy of May 13, 1876 and the likely date, now assigned speculatively.
The author is almost surely William Everard Hamilton Searcy (1847-1928), who is buried in Oak Hill Cemetery, Griffin, GA, just south of Atlanta. During the Civil War, he served as a colonel for the Confederacy. A brief item in the issue of the same journal for March 20, 1875 is signed “W. E. H. Searcy, Griffin, Ga.” That item reports on the membership of The Order of United Friends of Temperance, which would explain some of the emphasis on Poe's problems with alcohol. This short article was not written by a scholar, academic or professional writer. As such, it is a remarkable example of how muddled the details of Poe's life can become, even in summary. It seems likely that the author wrote entirely from memory, without checking against printed sources, which both demonstrates the dangers of such an approach and how confident many people are that they are familiar with those details and do not need to check them.
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[S:0 - SSAGA, 1876] - Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore - A Poe Bookshelf - Edgar Allan Poe (W. E. H. Searcy, 1876)