Text: Maunsell B. Field, “[Edgar A. Poe],” Memories of Many Men and of Some Women, New York: Harper & Brothers, 1874, Chapter 5, pp. 224-225

[page 224, continued:]

EDGAR A. POE I remember seeing on a single occasion. He announced a lecture to be delivered at the Society Library building on Broadway, under the title of the “Universe.” It was a stormy night, and there were not more than sixty persons present in the lecture room. I have seen no portrait of POE that does justice to his pale, delicate, intellectual face, and magnificent eyes. His lecture was a rhapsody of the most intense brilliance. He appeared inspired, and his inspiration affected his scant audience almost painfully. He wore his coat tightly buttoned across his slender chest; his eyes seemed to glow like those of his own raven, and he kept us entranced for two hours and a half. The late Mr. PUTNAM, the publisher, told me that the next day the wayward, luckless poet presented himself to him with the manuscript of the “Universe.” He told PUTNAM that in it he solved the whole problem of life; that it would immortalize the publisher as well as its author; and, what was of less consequence, that it would bring to him the fortune which he had so long and so vainly been seeking. Mr. PUTNAM, while an admirer of genius, was also a cool, calculating man of business. As such, he could not see the matter in exactly the same light as the poet did, and the only result of the interview was that he lent POE a shilling to take him home to Fordham, [page 225:] where he then resided. After poor POE'S death, the late RUFUS W. GRISWOLD, not altogether immaculate himself, treated his memory with undue severity. I had a correspondence upon the subject with his fellow-poet and old-time friend, N. P. WILLIS, who earnestly deprecated GRISWOLD'S harshness.