Evening Star Newspaper, September 13, 1925, Page 88

i Adventure Seeker in Brazil Caught in Leap of Man-Eating Jaguat’ distir fo the Mortes ister n Bt ¥ in killed x Emith. 1 friendl along t T inhabited vantes Indians ney & crashed hurled into swirling rapids when coils ¢ &n ta hidder After wide str sisted but fused and to safer blacker shadow feli For an was 1 He ca fu my leaped at me from in front, ¢ held moment ape of a toward me from behind This du They say the black jaguar. with his | glosey Jaguar spots show the rarest and most beautiful animals in for Brazi they but meating. My preta came after I had retreated from the poisoned arrows on the River of Death, article, For lived among the Caraja Indians. the only and I had grown from wild imal Indeed, tribes, queer' r that eat chickens, bird-eating spiders, | an! none. and until I heard close to my ear the malignan I had thou o wae adventures Tt that the rather than ope months entally m: ur zons- long tio near no ter scend beat thion 10 theix from Winter the first outsk lence of come to the outpost Senhora de Concel, for: Para, I veered westward with a single | Indian guide ws fatal Gold Mine of the Martyrs. the mood 2 The Unerring Flight of a Poisoned Arrow—Watching a Junglc Burst Into Life — Where Savagery Is Rampant. First Meeting With a Spotted Beast. Snapping Jaws and Tearing Claws. Smith hears the exceeding good Frar Gow Twenty miles we did the first day, | tolling up rugged mountain trail, | belng the first white |1 on muleback and my guide eastly | certainly nce the days of setting the pace afoot. A rocky niche Spanish and Portugese was my bed that night on the crest of ever return from |the range: There, ih the morning, I| of the Brazillan |rose 1o wWitness an amazing sunrise | watered by the Rio d spectacle | River of Death. This sin- The eastern me was bestowed upon the | rose and orange hues all other of his | crags around me were warmly lost their lives | under the first rays of dawn rapids, had been |beneath, dull green in the somber | by wild animals, or foully | twilight of the lowlands, billowed a | wrdered by savage India limitless expanse of sleeping forests As related last week, Capt. Gow- | inbroken except in the distance where \der the guldance of | the pearlgray ribbon of the Araguaya | Indians, had penetrated | 'ay edged with morning fog heart the wilderness And then—daylight seemed to rush e mysterinlintora e suddenly down over the silent valleys. until he reached the vegion |And the whole jungle burst abruptly by the hostile Cher. |into clamorous life. A far-echoing B nitng jour- | clatter rose to my ears; the volces of Ak thiite endan. i‘mnm\(lt‘s\ monkeys and parrots ming- when his 5 | ling with other animai crles in a very e bedlam of nolse that shrilled ever ey higher to a weird crescendo. Then, after this brief. wild paean to the mounting sun-god, the awakened for- est lulled down again to the vague unworldly murmur of a tropic day. Impressed as if by some vast pagan remonial, 1 turm again westward, \wn the mountains, to bury myself | four days in the jungle, following | half-obliterated tribal trail. At/ ght [ slept in a hammoek, while | jaguars growled about the camp fire. At duvn my guide served coffee, with deliclous “cream”-—the milk which | he gathered in a coconut shell from the Brazillan “cow tree.” The third day. however, he was listless and complained of weakness. It soon became apparent that a vam- | pire bat had feasted on his blood dur- {ing the night The cold wind with which these hovering creatures fan the wound through which they suck makes their attack Imperceptible to | a sleeping man. 1 luckily escaped their unpleasant attentions through out the trip, but shook many a hairy | spiler from my boots before mount- | ing in the morning. and 1 and the| xple to section sky was aglow with | while the high | golden | Down | i hecause edecessors had treacherous the of his 1 once upon ered canoe he was again was enveloped in the glant sucurn, a deadly 1gain when he was at- d severely bijten by ants f a and ked ar i Death While proceeding upstream, sud the banks of the River came a shower urows. Not a glimpse had of the Indian howmen n the gle fastness reaching middle of the am Gow-Smith in- continuing the journey, panic-stricken guldes re > was forced to return rters of poi = was ju the pt in his au BY FRANCIS GOW-SMITH. PIECE self and assu a huge cat of the vistbly of night detached 1ed the it form of It was as if part jungle’'s gloom had condensed into a and was crouched in menace above me. instant of breathless silence THBE SUNDAY. STAR, WASHINGTON, mule were often stung to madness by | swarms of hornets. Making slow progress hecause of | | the Indian's weakness, we passed a low mound of earth beside a little| stream. Here, 1 learned, a Brazilian | and at the same |wanderer had recently been slain by an unsuspected peril, in the | his own guide, who had then cheer- poisoned arrow, whizzed | fully departed for the. Xingu with his | tormer master's gun. was my ceremony of intro. PR fon to the black jaguar, or onca | of Brazil | ware of the animal’s graceful Then that velvet shadow be pouncing, growling, spitting My gun was a useless toy in hand. As the enraged cat-demc 1d fear | auty e a and me paralyzed ing | AL . I IFE, it seems, means next to noth- | ing throughout Interior Brazil | The natives, if tempted by booty and | left unwatched, will kill you for your | | possessions as carelessly as vou| |would slap a mosquito; while the Brazilian settlers all go armed and| "arry on many a ruthless feud sug- gesting Kentucky at its worst | It is a dramatic fact, by the way, that shortly before the last of a no- | torious Kentucky feudist family was |killed in Breathitt County, another ion of the same stock bit the dust of a Brazilian trail. His family| nemesis had followed him even in his South American exile. In a trivial quarrel he had shot a | | Matto Grosso rancher, and carried off is ear in a cigarette case, imitat- ing one of the quaint customs of the country. ~The Brazilian's friends, | however, had promptly wreaked ven- geance on the Kentuckian, using their favorite double-barreled, muzzle- | londing horse pistols in the fatal fray. | That recollection came vividly to| my mind beside the grave of my | predecessor on the Xingu trail. Next day we left the jungle and emerged on an endless grassy plain dotted | | with trees and sparkling with thou-| sands of crystals in the sun. There| | the Brazilian ostrich (the emu of | cross-word puzzle fame) moved| | gawkily through tall grasses and | herds of wild pig stared belligerently | at us from their feasting place | beneath the nut trees, while graceful | deer fled in panic from the rivers as | we crossed. ing at, through which the typical faintly. is one of the set the world. I can his being the beast in South fans never even do his common g0 out of their vouch at least most danger America hunt him vellow cousin way to avold a . shal was | into nd own encounter with the onca the as described In a previous the six months It thereafter I had white man they had ever seen. | to fear treachery | painted children of the| than from any jungle these more dart Indian | life 18| Frogs aside from certain South America’s wild he ther than dangerous. feas ing bats—these I had seen man-eating beasts there are this same black jaguar except clash of his steel-trap jaws, ht that an outright fight beween man and beast no part of my Brazilian the de; mal to be The ie the one fo Araguay stealthy hand of poison irs, down there between and the Xingu rivers, combat. Living for amid such an environment,| Through the vast, peaceful silence preved on by the Indians’|of this uncharted plain we moved for superstitions, one fails into|gix gays, coming finally to signs of | of half-belleving any fables. | human life again—a village of Calpo o % o { Indians on the banks of & small river, | though I took no stock in|the Rio Branca, tributary to the myth of the Ama-|Xingu. that tribe of female warriors| To the north of us now lay the celebrated In legend and men- | haunts of the Gaviaos, tall, tat Indi- ned by Sir Walter Raleigh as living | ans who have been so abused by rub- the Xingu River—though 1 did | ber barons that they kill white in soberly believe, either in the mys-| vaders on sight, firing viclously-barbed | {ous, iue-eyed, golden-haired de-|arrows from S§-foot bowe. Thelir ter nts of some super-race of long | ritory runs eastward, parallel to the| nor in the fabled ruins of ancient | trall T had traversed, back to the very | nor in the fire snake, said to|edge of the settlementsalong the Ara- | out camp fires with Its tail—al- | guaya So that there in Brazil pure| h [ was skeptical of these ro- |savagery is fouud rampant within a | 18, vet I must confess I|stone’s throw, as it were, of the church in them down a bit nearer | and stores and steamboat wharves of source. And so I turned aside | a civilized river town. | my homeward journey last| To the south of our Rio PBranca | vhen 1 had already reached | camp also lay hostile tribes, the mur- | ts of civilization derous Mundurucus, who welcome through the mad turbu-|strangers with open arms and cut off | Araguaya rapide, I had, their heads to make sure they payv v ze of Nossa|a long vigit. As had happened on the | . and there, be. | River of Death, the friendly Indians | the Tocanting 1o | now refused to accompany me further in my search for the Martyrs’ Gold Mine, asserting that to venture much | farther either northward or southward promised sure death | but anny spot N\D so the eterna fish the the hooting the spot from 0 too e running down over the mountains that | country and the the 1l off the Xingu ver Calpo village, But, ment. the Indians staged a grand fish more exciting | tiara of gaudy w staged melodrama; in the these howling savages, painted red and black: on the shore a line of bowmen intently shooting the|ernment I had re for that unerring marksmanship of | regaled me with grim killing black jaguar terrorizing his village Like jaguar, blood, will stalic and eat human beings relentlessly, in preference to its nor- | them infested by The treeing a large jaguar | hurled Then the wounded beast leaped, over | human So I was forced to settle down In the or else to go on alone, | this I was not equipped to do to compensate for my disappoint h expedition—m1 than it sounds. * % % % .L night the men danced and shouted madly about their smok camp fires, clothed only parrot feathers. In morning a convoy of 50 Indians forth. some scattering to gather bundles of the poisonous tingu vines, others climbing trees to locate some low lake left by the receding river hen a promising sheet of water found the tingu gatherers strode the center of it and began to yell beat thelr bundles with heavy sticks. 8o that the juice spattered into Within a short time the poison became diffused lake, peared water. through and great shoals of fish shooting crazily about surface, as if intoxicated. was like seeing some garishly blue their the ap ing fish with miraculous aim ason to give thanks shortly native. t on roast During am all-afternoon fish, that had been the Indian when it has iger, the tasted dlet of tapir meat and capivara. chief’'s own daughter had been among the recent victims of one such | Kkiller. The Onca pointada, 1 knew for a beautiful ordffiary spotted jaguar discreet animal that will flee from man and dog and never give battle unless cornered. I had met ted jugar back. on the my first Island for s rafa pearl-bearing mu: a half dozen ( and stingrays The stingray is a pancake-shaped | due punctuality creature that lies on the bottom and|It? filngs gouge unwary legs that tread on him. | As for the piranha. I had already had | the afternoon, homeward to dinner, a finger-tip bitten off by one of these |and return no more that day. If, dur- vicious fish, and pearls dldn‘t make me want to risk up a sharply harbed tail to even the lure of loss of another finger natives, too, were petered out. But just then wolf dogs created a diversion by As the great down at them I thought him far shoot—the Indians spears at him. ted cat snarled 1 the hranches beautiful to their 7-foot heads of the dogs, directly at his tormentors. M3 army revol- came into play, promptly ending with a | Poe Made Long E near lake bodies the Caipo chief | €s of a man- black | human or of Bananal, one day when we had gone Griswold collection of Poe's letters and hunting | Accompanied by | Indians end by a pack of half-tamed | | wolves with which they hunt, I had |ficeholder here, say at $1.500 per year, investigated several lakes, only to find | payable monthly by Uncle Sam, who, carnivorous piranha | however slack he may be to his gen- afraid of electric eels In the water, so our mus- | sel hunt both peril With this past experience in mind I was little fmpressed by a jaguar's ferocity, and when my Caipo chieftain enlarged on the black jaguar's devas tations in the Rio Branca neighbor the jaguars’ suffering and our “I WAS HURLED TO THE GROUND BY A MASSIVE BULK.” D. G, SEPTEMBER 13, 1925—PART 5. | not be ourselyes instead of the jaguar [ ground | | with gay feathe | | | hood, and added that he knew just | about where the creature prowled, I | was all hunting him up and mak {ing the animal's acquaintance. The | other natives, exhausted by their all night dance, the day's orgy of fish | poisoning and the following feast [ were left behind to doze in the after noon sun, while the chief and I set out alone. * X ox % BUT !t was dark before we finally came upon the jaguar's trail, and as the sudden tropical night fell I | was not il 1 began to wonder whether it might that would become the hunted quarry. The chief was absorbed in watching me strike a match to light & hasty campfire. The Indians never ceased to marvel at the miracle of fire mak- ing, for their own method was the painfully slow rubbing of sticks to gether. Just as the blaze flared up my companion suddenly stiffened and half turned his head 1o listen intently. No sound had reached my ears, but the alarmed Indian had heard some stealthy tread of paws, and in a ment he leaped acioss the rizing fire to where his bow and spear lay on the ground, calling sharply to me to follow I shall never forget the unreality of that scene. The shallow ravine was oppressively perfumed with the odor of flowering parasites. A faint moon- light flitered mystically through thick foliage, and southward mouth of the valley, hung the sky-| Jewels of the Southern Cross And there in the flickering firelight, 200 miles from the nearest set tlement, a white man stood talking | with & savage of the Stone Age, whose features were carivatured in paint to xrotesque ferocity, with large black circles. painted around his eyes and red lines enlarging nearly to his ears the shape of his mouth. A bedraggled crown of brilliant parrot feathers cir- cled his unkempt head, and upright through his lower lip’ protruded a sparkling 8-inch spike of carvan crys tal On his arms were gay rosettes of feathers. while his body was daubed with red dye from urucu berrles and painted in crude designs with ink of the genipapa iree. In one hand he held bow and feathered arrows, in the other a_speur tipped with a Jaguar's sharperied thigh-bone and ornamented above the intricate braid-designs around the shaft. This weird vignette of primitive life stamped iiself on my memory as we stood tensely listening. In a moment we heard & rustie in the other dark ness, and knew that the jaguar must have circled around us on silent pads 50 that he again had us between him self and the blaze. xox o {NOWING that even the feroc black man-killer would keep as nervously away from the fire as do his tawny cousins and anxjous not to miss the chance of taking his beautiful pelt home, I cautiously moved forward down' the siope, ignoring my gulde’s muttered warning For.a moment I could see nothing then the animal’s Jithe form material ized out of the darkness, crouched in glortous grace along a bough not 10 paces ahead. His eves. burning green and baleful in the glint of firelight seemed to bore through me; but it w his slowly lashing tall grow rigid and his body stiffen for the spring that I fired 1 was too nervous for perfect aim Wounded In the moment of pouncing ferocious the | over the | _the jaguar crakhed sidewise to the but {ndantly, ke a stesl | spring et loose i writhing¢fury, he |leaped aside, whhiled once around, crouched snarlingly and launched a maddened drive for gny throat. Watch your cat when-it really goss |into action, cornered. agafnst a:dog. And jmagine yotrself fucing just suc | fashing swifiness in & beast thirty times as large: yeu will understand then how bewlidered 1 felt, and why my second shot was foor. |~ The bullet, I learntd afterward, only blazed a gash along thegnfuriated ani mal's flank. But so sharpened were | my senses in this crists ¢hat I distinct- |1y heard a vicious hiss close to my ear and feit the flutter @ my cheek | of something shooting pasé me from behind. And almost in the sams mo ment 1 heard the singing snf&p of jaws | that closed on thin air above my shoulder. A steelshod claw ripped through my coat, and I was huried to the ground by the massive bull that | struck my side. While I struggled | frantically to my feet away from the | whirlwind of lashing claws I realized | what had happened The chief up the wlope behind me had risen to the emergency, and had desperately fired an arrow past me within an inch of my right ear, catct ing the beast in the shoulder as he leaped. The wound had turned him in | his jump and upset his muscular con trol just enough to let me escape the fatal grip of claws and teeth The animal lay on the ground. now, shuddering a moment, growling eously, seeiing once more 1o ris slowly stiffening out as the arrow's polson took effect. 1 knew I might have perished had dlan’s alm been less perfec ed nd in el finished me ever had not Perhaps 1 b tribes of Brazf Certainly this ¢ a loyal friend 50 easily have clafmed my envied eq booty Later, cefcan then then how Ir A potsor would have jaguar's Jaws the f the e untamed too sinister a ligh \po chieftain proved when he mign to perish and for his pment when T had returned to Col whence I started on the lap of my homeward journey down t« Para, 1 met a wandering Cara Gian with &n old rifle. He had no ar munition, but proudly compared h gun with mine—and, smiling in child like stmplicity, told how he had dix posed of the ri s original owner that he himself might possess stick.” | S0 it'1s a land of strange dictions, this Brazili jungle-land Never from mor > ren you quite sure whether vour Indian “camarada” will prove herolc fri q or treacherous enemy Perhaps on m next trip I can learn more of twisted workings of the Indfan brair but T hope I shall do so under less perilous ¢ stances than I faced that thrilling battle with the jaguar. BY MARGARET POE HART. HE recent opening of the Poe Shrine in Richmond recalls to mind the fact that, in the Winter of 1843, Edgar Allan Poe, America’s poet of the night, spent some days in Washington trying to get a Government clerkship. His attempts were not so successful as those of other literary men. Charles |Lamb was an Indian House clerk; Robert Burns was an exciseman; Hawthorne inspected imports in the Salem customhouse, and Walt Whit- man was a Government clerk in Washington. But no lucrative Gov- post was written on Poe’s book of Fate. {1t is a fascinating story, that of his adventures In trying to obtain one. In the tale appear such personages of the day as Robert Tyler. son of the then President of the United States; Representative John P. Kennedy and others of like importance. The principal characters, of course, are Edgar Allan Poe and his literary friend, Frederick W. Thomas, a Balti- more writer, possessor of a good Gov ernment office under Tyler. Their ac quaintance had begun when Poe was able to assist Thomas in placing some of his literary product. The low state of Poe’s finances In Philadeiphia wa.: known to Thomas, and on May 20, {1841, he wrote him a letter from Washington, in which he dropped a iggestion into Poe’s receptive mind. This letter, which is extant in the manuseripts in the Boston Public Library, says: “How would you like to be an of- eral creditors, pays his officials with How would you like You stroll to your office a little | after 9 in the morning leisurely, and vou stroll from it a little after 2 in | ing office hours, you have anything to do, it is an agreeable relaxation from the monstrous laziness of the day. You have on your desk everything in the writing line in apple-pie order, and If you choose to lucubrate in the liter- ary way, why vou can lucubrate. ome on and apply for a clerkship. | You can follow literature here as well {as where vou are. and think of the | money to be made by it. Think of that, ‘Master Brooke.' as Sir John sayeth-—write to me if you love in the reception of this. Jog Graham. My tenderest regards to your mother and wife. Your friend, “F. W. THOMAS.” * x % AT that time Poe’s average earnings from his pen amounted to about $35 monthly, on which pittance he supported a sick wife, a 'mother-in- Jaw—Mrs. Maria Clemm—and himself. Thomas' letter, with its promise of an assured income, fell like manna in the struggling household. Eagerly Poe answered: “Would to God T could do as you have done! Do you serfously think that an application to Tyler would have a good result? My claims, to be sure, are few. I am a Virginian, at least I call myself one, for T have re- | sided all my life, until within the last few vears, in Richmond. My political principles have always heen, as nearly as may be, with the existing admin- | istration, and 1 battled with right good | will for Harrison when opportunity of- fered. With Mr. Tyler I have some slight personal acquaintance—although this {8 a matter which he has possibly forgotten. For the rest, I am a liter- ary man, and I see a disposition in Government to cherish letters. Have I any chance?” Whether the eagerness of Poe alarmed Thomas or he feared a pos- sible disappointment is not known. His reply is more cautiously written: “My Dear Poe: Yours of 26 of June 1 received yesterday. I trust, .my dear friend, that you can obtain an appointment. President Tyler I have not seen except in passing in his car- riage—never having called at the ‘White House since the death of Har- rison except to see the sons of the President, and then they were not in —or it you prefer. it, I will see him for you—but perhaps your applica- tion “had better be made through some one who has influence with the Executive. 1 have heard you say that J. P. Kennedy has a regard for you— he is a Congressman and would serve you, would he mot? My employment is merely temporary. I had a letter of ‘introduction to ‘the Secretary of the Treasury, from my friend Gov. Corwim of Ohloy- merely-introducing me as a ‘literary character'—I did not then expect to ask office, but find ing that publishing was at a low ebb. | 1 waited on Mr. Ewing and told him | frankly how I was situated and that | T should like to be making some- | thing: he with great kindness installed me here. “There are thousands of applicants. My duty is to schedule their claims and present them to the Secretary. He reads the schedule and makes his decision, unless he has doubts about the matter, and then he sends on the papers. Let me hear from you in this matter of yours. The notice of the Intelligencer shall appear if 1 have influence enough with Mr Gales to get it in “The enclosed cryptograph is from a friend of mine (Dr. Frailey) who thinks he can puzzle you. If you can decipher it, then you are a magi clan—for he has used, as I think, much art in making it. Let me hear from you at your leisure about the office. “Your friend, e * % ¥ % UT Poe was not disheartened. The child of genius can always live on hope: he only despairs whe; that is denied him. You can see b his reply that already he had obtained the coveted position in his imagina- tion, and that it was buoying up the poverty-stricken family. The same eager note prevailed “I wish to God 1 could visit Wash. ington, but the old story, you know— I have no money—not even enough to take me there, saving nothing of get- ting back. It is & hard thing to be poor—but as 1 am kept so by an hon- est motive, I dare not complain. Your suggestion about Mr. Kennedy is well THOMAS."” VIRGINIA CLEMM, WIFE OF EDGAR ALLAN POE. timed; and here, Thomas, you can do me a true service. Call upon Kennedy —you know him, I believe—if not, in- troduce yourself: he is a perfect gen- tleman, and will give you a cordial welcome. Speak to him of my wishes, and urge him to see the Secretary of War in my behalf—or one of the other Secretaries, or President Tyler. “I mention in particular the Secre- tary of War because I have been to West Point and this may stand me in some stead. I would be glad to get almost any appointment—even a 15500 one—so that I may have some- thing independent of letters for a sub- sistence. To coin one’s brain into silver, at the nod of a master, is, to my thinking, the hardest task in the world. Mr. Kennedy has been at all times a true friend to me—he was the first true friend I ever had—I am indebted to him for 1ife itself. He will be willing to help me, I know—but needs urging, for he is always head and ears in business. Thomas, may 1 depend upon you?’ Thomas, on receiving the letter, re- iterated his desire to aid Poe, but the enthusiasm of the first letter had de- parted. He wrote back: “My Dear Poe: I did not see until this morning—you use generally such pale ink—the solitary line at the top of the third page of your letter where you sa ‘State that I deciphered it by the return of mail—as I do.” Please alter the communication I sent you, So as to express the fact. Today it rains hard, Congress was in session last night until 12 o'clock, and it may be a day or two before I see Kennedy. I wrote you that T had never seen the President. I shall see him on Friday, as his son has invited me to dine with him. If I had the address now, I might bring you upsin & guicy-way | ! fort to POE. _ EDGAR ALLA and pave the way—but as T have not, 1 must make the genius of friendship my guide and trust to its (illegible) to make all right in your behalf. There are thousands of applicants, but I think the wants of a man like you, who asks only for a clerkship, should not he neglected. You will eventually succeed if you should not at first “I know very few of the ‘big bugs’ here, having kept myself to myself, but T think 1 have skill enough to commit your merits to those who, though not women, will be more skill. ful advocates of your claims. “I write in the greatest haste. “Your frien “F. W * x ok % T took Thomas a few months to ad- just his own literary affairs to such an ‘extent that he could spare a_few moments to see Representative Ken- nedy for poor, anxious Poe. On Au- gust 30, 1841, two or three months after the request was made of him, we find him writing Poe as follows: “My Dear Poe: I have been indis- posed for some time, which prevented my writing to you, as I had nothing to communicate, and the exercise of my pen was painful. I wrote you that I saw Kennedy and that he expressed his willingness to ald you fn any way in his power. “Sure I have conversed with the President’s sons about you—they think the President will be able and willing to give you a situation, but they say, and I felt the truth of the remark before it was made, that at the present crisis, when everything is ‘hurlyburly.’ it would be of no avall to apply to him. He fs much perplexed, as you may suppose, amidst the conflicting parties, the an: tielpated cabinet break-up, etc. ‘As soon as times get a little more quiet I will wait on the President myself and write you of the inter- view. The matter seems to have lagged| during the Fall and Winter of 1841-| 42, until, on February 6, 1842, | Thomas selects a good quill from the Government assortment on his desk and proceeds to plant some new hopes in Poe’s receptive brain. Some other correspondence must have followed, but it has been lost. THOMAS, MARIA CLEMM, MOTHER-IN. ALLAN POE. | found’ respect However, on May 21, 1842, we find Thomas answering Poe's letter of March 13, with apologies and a re newed suggestion about the coveted Government post My Dear Poe: I been reproaching me in not answering yours of 13 before. If vou have, you done me an injustice. “I knew it would be of mo avail to submit your proposition to Rob- ert Tyler, with regard to any pe- cuniary ald which he might extend o your underfaking, as he has noth- ing but his salary of $1,500, and his sltuation requires more than its ex- penditure. 1In a literary point of view he would gladly aid you. but his time is so taken up with polit- ical and other matters that his co tributions would be few and far be- tween “I, therefore, thought I could aid you better by interesting him in you personally without your appearing as it were, personally in the matte In consequence, I took occasion speak of vou to him frequently a way that friendship and a pro- for vour requirements dictated you highly, a= T do. “Last night I was speaking of you and took occasion to suggest that situation in the Custom House, Philadelphia, might be acceptable to vou, as Lamb (Charles) had held a somewhat similar appointment, ete and as it would leave you leisure to pursue vour literary pursuits. Robert replied that he felt confident th such a situation could be obtained for you in the course of two or three months at farthest, as certain vacan- cles would then occur. “What say you to such a Official life Is' not laborious, fear you have with neglect March have He thinks of place? is and a ELIZABETH ARNOLD POE, MOTHER OF EDGAR ALLAN POE. situation that would sult you and place you beyond the necessity of employing vour pen. he says, he can obtain for you there. Let me hear from vou as soon as convenient upon this subject. I assure you, Poe, that not an occasion has offered when in the remotest way I thought I could serve you that I did not avail my- self of it—but I would mot write upon mere conjectures that some- thing available was about to occur. So my motives must be my apology. my friend, for my long silence. “Besides, I could not obtain for you, and I have tried repeatedly, Clay's report on the copyright question. I may be vet successful. If I had ob- tained it T might have written sooner —having that to write about. Yes, I saw Dickens, but only at the dinner which a few of us gave here—I liked him_very much, though. “You " certainly exhibited great sagacity in your criticism on ‘Barn- aby Rudge.' I have not yet read it, but T mean to do so, and then read your criticism, which I have put by for that purpose. “‘Somebody - told me, for I have not seen it in print, that you and Graham had parted company. Is it ®o? “Poe, though 1 am as steady as clock work, someéhow or other my hand is so nervous this morning that I can scarcely hold the pen. How is the health of your lady? I have often, often thought of her and sympathized with you. Make my warmest respects to her and your mother, and write me the moment you receive this. Yeur friend, “F. W. THOMA As Poe himself wrote, the cu tomhouse suggestion gave him “new life.” Tt is with eagerness that he in | genius and | Through only just now recetved vours of the 21st. Believe me, [ never dreamed of doubting your friendshlp or of reproaching vou for your silence I knew o ad good reasons for |and in this matter I feel that u | have acted for me more judiciously by far than I should have done for myself u have shown vourself | from the first hour of our acquaint ! ance that rara avis in terris—'a true | friend.’ Nor am I the man to be un | mindful of vour kindness. “What you say respecting a situa {tion in the customhouse here gives | me new Ilife. Nothing could more precisely meet my views. Could I ob | tain such appointment, I would be | enabled thoroughly carry ¢ all | my ambitious projec 1t would re | ieve me of all ca as regards a mere | subsistence, and thus allow me time | for thought, which in fact is action 1 repeat that I would ask for noth farther or better than a situati vou ment If the salary enable 1 ve, 1 shall content. Wi ay as muc | me to Mr. Tyler and express to him my sincere gratitude for the ‘he takes In my welfare However, young Tyler did not suc | ceed in obtaining the customhouse | post for Poe. The much disappointed | poet did not entirely lose hope, and he [ now turned to the next expedient, | that of going to Washington to appeal in person for a position. Lack of funds prevented this for some months but in March, 1843, he aid go to the Capttal City, as the illuminating cor respondence will show, and part! larly the first letter written by Poe himself from Washington, on March 13, 1843, to a certain Mr. Clarke of Philadelphia. 1lere is the text of th: letter 1 oMy an accide Dear t I hi to & on suck wi | bhe | barel o WASHINGTON, D. “March 13, My Dear Sir: T write merely to in- form you of my well-doing, for, so far, I have done nothing “My friend Thomas, upon whom I depended, is sick. I suppose he will be well in a few days. In the mean time T shall have to do the best I can. ‘I have not seen the President yet iy expenses were more than I thought they would be, although I e economized in every respect, and th delay (Thomas being sick) puts me out sadly. However, all is goin right 1 have got the subscription of all the depsrtments, President, etc. I believe that I am making & sensa tion which will tend to the benefit of the magazine. “Day after tomorrow I am to leci ture. Robert Tyler is to give me an article, also Upshur. Send me $10 by mail as soon as you get this. I ang grieved to ask you for money in thif way, but you will find your account f it twice over. Very truly yours, “EDGAR A. POR." ! 2 onoce mord e 'HREE days later Poe in_Philadelphia, after what esems to have been a jovial time in the Capls tal, when his archenemy, rum, had overcome him again. For in a letter to Thomas and Mr. Dow he tells ths inside story of his Washington tri with a hint of reveiries and gaveties that make one realize that the thr friends had plaved high jinks durl the visit of the poet to the Caplii This letter, dated Philadelphia, Mar: 16, 1843, reads as follows: : “My Dear Thomas and Dow: T an rived here in perfect safety and sober about - half past four last evening, nothing occurring on the road of any consequence. 1 shaved and break- tasted in Baltimore and lunched on the Susquehanna, and by the time I g0t to_Philadelphia felt quite decent. Mrs. Clemm was expecting me’at the car office. I went immediately’ home, took a warm bath and supper, and then went to Clarke’s. I never saw a man in my life more surprised to ses another. “He thought by Dow's epistle that I must not only be dead but buried, and would sooner have thought of ing his greai-greatgrandmother, He recelved me, therefore, very cordially and made light of the matter. I told ‘him what had been agreed upon; that I was a little sick,nand that Dow, knowing I had been in times past given to epreeing upon an extensive scale, had become unduly , etc., etc.; that when I found he had written I thought it best to come home. He sald my trip had improved me and that he had never seen me looking so welll-—and 1 don’t belleve 1 ever did “This morning I took medicine, and, as it {8 a snowy day, will avail myself {Continued en Fifth Pagsd 1843 1 /