The Mystery of Edgar Allan Poe’s Death: 19 Theories on What Caused the Poet’s Demise

poe cause of death

One my very first acts as a new New York­er many years ago was to make the jour­ney across three bor­oughs to Wood­lawn ceme­tery in the Bronx. My pur­pose: a pil­grim­age to Her­man Melville’s grave. I came not to wor­ship a hero, exact­ly, but—as Ford­ham Uni­ver­si­ty Eng­lish pro­fes­sor Angela O’Donnell writes—“to see a friend.” Pro­fes­sor O’Donnell goes on: “It might seem pre­sump­tu­ous to regard a cel­e­brat­ed 19th-cen­tu­ry nov­el­ist so famil­iar­ly, but read­ing a great writer across the decades is a means of con­duct­ing con­ver­sa­tion with him and, inevitably, leads to inti­ma­cy.” I ful­ly share the sen­ti­ment.

I promised Melville I would vis­it reg­u­lar­ly but, alas, the plea­sures and tra­vails of life in the big city kept me away, and I nev­er returned. No such pet­ty dis­trac­tion kept away a friend-across-the-ages of anoth­er 19th-cen­tu­ry Amer­i­can author. “For decades,” writes the Bal­ti­more Sun, “Edgar Allan Poe’s birth­day was marked by a mys­te­ri­ous vis­i­tor to his gravesite in Bal­ti­more.

Begin­ning in the 1930s, the ‘Poe Toast­er’ placed three ros­es at the grave every Jan. 19 and opened a bot­tle of cognac, only to dis­ap­pear into the night.” The tra­di­tion, which con­tin­ued until 2009, is cur­rent­ly being revived with an Amer­i­can Idol-style com­pe­ti­tion (do you have what it takes?). The iden­ti­ty of the orig­i­nal “Poe Toast­er”—who may have been suc­ceed­ed by his son—remains a tan­ta­liz­ing mys­tery.

Today, Octo­ber 7th, marks Poe’s death-day, and in hon­or of his macabre sen­si­bil­i­ty, we vis­it anoth­er mor­bid mystery—the mys­tery of how Edgar Allan Poe died.

Most of you have prob­a­bly heard some ver­sion of the sto­ry. On Octo­ber 3, 1849, a com­pos­i­tor for the Bal­ti­more Sun, Joseph Walk­er, found Poe lying in a gut­ter. The poet had depart­ed Rich­mond, VA on Sep­tem­ber 27, bound for Philadel­phia “where he was to edit a vol­ume of poet­ry for Mrs. St. Leon Loud,” the Poe Muse­um tells us. Instead, he end­ed up in Bal­ti­more, “semi­con­scious and dressed in cheap, ill-fit­ting clothes so unlike Poe’s usu­al mode of dress that many believe that Poe’s own cloth­ing had been stolen.” He nev­er became lucid enough to explain where he had been or what hap­pened to him: “The father of the detec­tive sto­ry has left us with a real-life mys­tery which Poe schol­ars, med­ical pro­fes­sion­als, and oth­ers have been try­ing to solve for over 150 years.”

Most peo­ple assume that Poe drank him­self to death. The rumor was part­ly spread by Poe’s friend, edi­tor Joseph Snod­grass, whom the poet had asked for in his semi-lucid state. Snod­grass was “a staunch tem­per­ance advo­cate” and had rea­son to recruit the writer posthu­mous­ly into his cam­paign against drink, despite the fact that Poe had been sober for six months pri­or to his death and had refused alco­hol on his deathbed. Poe’s attend­ing physi­cian, John Moran, dis­missed the binge drink­ing the­o­ry, but that did not help clear up the mys­tery. Moran’s “accounts vary so wide­ly,” writes Biography.com, “that they are not gen­er­al­ly con­sid­ered reli­able.”

So what hap­pened? Doc­tors at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Mary­land Med­ical Cen­ter the­o­rize that Poe may have con­tract­ed rabies from one of his own pets—likely a cat. This diag­no­sis accounts for the delir­i­um and oth­er report­ed symp­toms, though “no one can say con­clu­sive­ly,” admits the Center’s Dr. Michael Ben­itez, “since there was no autop­sy after his death.” As with any mys­tery, the frus­trat­ing lack of evi­dence has sparked end­less spec­u­la­tion. The Poe Muse­um offers the fol­low­ing list of pos­si­ble caus­es-of-death, with dates and sources, includ­ing the rabies and alco­hol (both over­im­bib­ing and with­draw­al) the­o­ries:

  • Beat­ing (1857) The Unit­ed States Mag­a­zine Vol.II (1857): 268.
  • Epilep­sy (1875) Scrib­n­er’s Month­ly Vo1. 10 (1875): 691.
  • Dip­so­ma­nia (1921) Robert­son, John W. Edgar A. Poe A Study. Brough, 1921: 134, 379.
  • Heart (1926) Allan, Her­vey. Israfel. Dou­ble­day, 1926: Chapt. XXVII, 670.
  • Tox­ic Dis­or­der (1970) Stu­dia Philo1ogica Vol. 16 (1970): 41–42.
  • Hypo­glycemia (1979) Artes Lit­er­a­tus (1979) Vol. 5: 7–19.
  • Dia­betes (1977) Sin­clair, David. Edgar Allan Poe. Roman & Litt1efield, 1977: 151–152.
  • Alco­hol Dehy­dro­ge­nase (1984) Arno Karlen. Napo1eon’s Glands. Lit­tle Brown, 1984: 92.
  • Por­phryia (1989) JMAMA Feb. 10, 1989: 863–864.
  • Deleri­um Tremens (1992) Mey­ers, Jef­frey. Edgar A1lan Poe. Charles Scrib­n­er, 1992: 255.
  • Rabies (1996) Mary­land Med­ical Jour­nal Sept. 1996: 765–769.
  • Heart (1997) Sci­en­tif­ic Sleuthing Review Sum­mer 1997: 1–4.
  • Mur­der (1998) Walsh, John E., Mid­night Drea­ry. Rut­gers Univ. Press, 1998: 119–120.
  • Epilep­sy (1999) Archives of Neu­rol­o­gy June 1999: 646, 740.
  • Car­bon Monox­ide Poi­son­ing (1999) Albert Don­nay

The Smith­son­ian adds to this list the pos­si­ble caus­es of brain tumor, heavy met­al poi­son­ing, and the flu. They also briefly describe the most pop­u­lar the­o­ry: that Poe died as a result of a prac­tice called “coop­ing.”

A site called The Med­ical Bag expands on the coop­ing the­o­ry, a favorite of “the vast major­i­ty of Poe biogra­phies.” The term refers to “a prac­tice in the Unit­ed States dur­ing the 19th cen­tu­ry by which inno­cent peo­ple were coerced into vot­ing, often sev­er­al times, for a par­tic­u­lar can­di­date in an elec­tion.” Often­times, these peo­ple were snatched unawares off the streets, “kept in a room, called the coop” and “giv­en alco­hol or drugs in order for them to fol­low orders. If they refused to coop­er­ate, they would be beat­en or even killed.” One dark­ly com­ic detail: vic­tims were often forced to change clothes and were even “forced to wear wigs, fake beards, and mus­tach­es as dis­guis­es so vot­ing offi­cials at polling sta­tions wouldn’t rec­og­nize them.”

This the­o­ry is high­ly plau­si­ble. Poe was, after all, found “on the street on Elec­tion Day,” and “the place where he was found, Ryan’s Fourth Ward Polls, was both a bar and a place for vot­ing.” Add to this the noto­ri­ous­ly vio­lent and cor­rupt nature of Bal­ti­more elec­tions at the time, and you have a sce­nario in which the author may very well have been kid­napped, drugged, and beat­en to death in a vot­er fraud scheme. Ulti­mate­ly, how­ev­er, we will like­ly nev­er know for cer­tain what killed Edgar Allan Poe. Per­haps the “Poe Toast­er” was attempt­ing all those years to get the sto­ry from the source as he com­muned with his dead 19th cen­tu­ry friend year after year. But if that mys­te­ri­ous stranger knows the truth, he ain’t talk­ing either.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

5 Hours of Edgar Allan Poe Sto­ries Read by Vin­cent Price & Basil Rath­bone

Édouard Manet Illus­trates Edgar Allan Poe’s The Raven, in a French Edi­tion Trans­lat­ed by Stephane Mal­lar­mé (1875)

Down­load The Com­plete Works of Edgar Allan Poe: Macabre Sto­ries as Free eBooks & Audio Books

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness


by | Permalink | Comments (125) |

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Comments (125)
You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.
  • M-R says:

    Coop­ing would seem to be so very high­ly like­ly a solu­tion as to beat the rest into a cocked hat. Only bit of mys­tery left might be where he was snatched …

  • Sara Berry says:

    Not a bot­tle of cognac, I’m sure, but a bot­tle of Amon­til­la­do.

  • bubba horner says:

    Stuff lead­ing up to the cause of death

  • mark says:

    i think you mean amon­til­la­do not Amon­til­la­do ‑_-

  • Anonymous says:

    I think that the coop­ing pre­dic­tion was right because, of the way it was back then and they have a lot of evi­dence for it.

  • Anonymous says:

    …Hi

  • Terry Irwin says:

    I regret that Edgar Allan Poe had to die so mys­te­ri­ous­ly. I am a big fan of his, and would’ve loved to meet him, if I was alive dur­ing his day. REST IN PEACE my friend, and favorite author.

  • Meow says:

    I am Edgar Allan Poe.

  • jan oskar hansen says:

    he died of drinks why is it so dif­fi­cult to accept that

  • it is still a mis­tery why he died still this day!!!

  • Edgar A. Poe says:

    E.A.P. could’ve died any of thoes ways, but he DID die by coop­ing… or he could be still alive…

  • Hannah says:

    I agree he did die from drink­ing that’s why Sarah end­ed the engag­ment

  • Hannah says:

    I agree with u why do u think Sarah broke of the engage­ment because he could­n’t keep a promise to stop drink­ing:(

  • Caleb says:

    He did­n’t die from drink­ing, sure he drank haluce­genic alco­hol but he did­n’t over drink it

  • shungbull says:

    he got shot

  • lil timmy says:

    his wifed stabbed him in the back of the head and the raven ate his dead body

  • lil timmy says:

    and then the raven put his beak in his mouth and lived inside him

  • Big Timmy says:

    He got dunked on so hard that he died amd the raped his dead cor­pose

  • bob says:

    what are the 13 death the­o­ries

  • billy says:

    is there any evi­dence to what yall said

  • lil timmy says:

    @billy hell yeah shung­bull yo got me chopped you think we ain’t got evi­dence on our theries hop off my meat

  • BETER says:

    oh ya mr krabs

  • Anonymous says:

    Who ate my Sushi.

  • gnovodyxxx says:

    wheres the lamb­sauce doh

  • Middle timmy says:

    I have a belief that a squir­rel ate him.

  • lil pump says:

    First of all Vir­ginia did­n’t have TB, she got hit by a car­riage and fell into a com­ma. Poe buried her with a bell and when she awoke from the coma she rang the bell got out of her grave and sought revenge on Poe. She ral­lied up all the masons, ravens, and black cats she could find and then mur­dered Poe by bur­ring behind a wall. Since Vir­ginia was thought dead she was nev­er thought to have been the mur­der­er.

  • mammottmon says:

    what is wrong with these peo­ple.

  • Ghost Girl says:

    Cool Pas­sage need more imfo

  • Rick Sanchez says:

    If there were an anoth­er copy of his death cer­tifi­cate

  • isabelle says:

    he was sober for 6 months

  • littletime 22 says:

    I NEED MORE INFO PLZ !!!!!!!!!!!

  • yall stupid says:

    I’m so con­fused at this con­ver­sa­tion

  • bernie says:

    your mom is edgar allan poe

  • yeet says:

    dead ass?

  • carter says:

    she end­ed it because he was dead

  • confusion says:

    sup

  • spamergetsspamed says:

    One my very first acts as a new New York­er many years ago was to make the jour­ney across three bor­oughs to Wood­lawn ceme­tery in the Bronx. My pur­pose: a pil­grim­age to Her­man Melville’s grave. I came not to wor­ship a hero, exact­ly, but—as Ford­ham Uni­ver­si­ty Eng­lish pro­fes­sor Angela O’Donnell writes—“to see a friend.” Pro­fes­sor O’Donnell goes on: “It might seem pre­sump­tu­ous to regard a cel­e­brat­ed 19th-cen­tu­ry nov­el­ist so famil­iar­ly, but read­ing a great writer across the decades is a means of con­duct­ing con­ver­sa­tion with him and, inevitably, leads to inti­ma­cy.” I ful­ly share the sen­ti­ment.

    I promised Melville I would vis­it reg­u­lar­ly but, alas, the plea­sures and tra­vails of life in the big city kept me away, and I nev­er returned. No such pet­ty dis­trac­tion kept away a friend-across-the-ages of anoth­er 19th-cen­tu­ry Amer­i­can author. “For decades,” writes the Bal­ti­more Sun, “Edgar Allan Poe’s birth­day was marked by a mys­te­ri­ous vis­i­tor to his gravesite in Bal­ti­more.

    Begin­ning in the 1930s, the ‘Poe Toast­er’ placed three ros­es at the grave every Jan. 19 and opened a bot­tle of cognac, only to dis­ap­pear into the night.” The tra­di­tion, which con­tin­ued until 2009, is cur­rent­ly being revived with an Amer­i­can Idol-style com­pe­ti­tion (do you have what it takes?). The iden­ti­ty of the orig­i­nal “Poe Toaster”—who may have been suc­ceed­ed by his son—remains a tan­ta­liz­ing mys­tery.

    Today, Octo­ber 7th, marks Poe’s death-day, and in hon­or of his macabre sen­si­bil­i­ty, we vis­it anoth­er mor­bid mystery—the mys­tery of how Edgar Allan Poe died.

    Most of you have prob­a­bly heard some ver­sion of the sto­ry. On Octo­ber 3, 1849, a com­pos­i­tor for the Bal­ti­more Sun, Joseph Walk­er, found Poe lying in a gut­ter. The poet had depart­ed Rich­mond, VA on Sep­tem­ber 27, bound for Philadel­phia “where he was to edit a vol­ume of poet­ry for Mrs. St. Leon Loud,” the Poe Muse­um tells us. Instead, he end­ed up in Bal­ti­more, “semi­con­scious and dressed in cheap, ill-fit­ting clothes so unlike Poe’s usu­al mode of dress that many believe that Poe’s own cloth­ing had been stolen.” He nev­er became lucid enough to explain where he had been or what hap­pened to him: “The father of the detec­tive sto­ry has left us with a real-life mys­tery which Poe schol­ars, med­ical pro­fes­sion­als, and oth­ers have been try­ing to solve for over 150 years.”

    Most peo­ple assume that Poe drank him­self to death. The rumor was part­ly spread by Poe’s friend, edi­tor Joseph Snod­grass, whom the poet had asked for in his semi-lucid state. Snod­grass was “a staunch tem­per­ance advo­cate” and had rea­son to recruit the writer posthu­mous­ly into his cam­paign against drink, despite the fact that Poe had been sober for six months pri­or to his death and had refused alco­hol on his deathbed. Poe’s attend­ing physi­cian, John Moran, dis­missed the binge drink­ing the­o­ry, but that did not help clear up the mys­tery. Moran’s “accounts vary so wide­ly,” writes Biography.com, “that they are not gen­er­al­ly con­sid­ered reli­able.”

    So what hap­pened? Doc­tors at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Mary­land Med­ical Cen­ter the­o­rize that Poe may have con­tract­ed rabies from one of his own pets—likely a cat. This diag­no­sis accounts for the delir­i­um and oth­er report­ed symp­toms, though “no one can say con­clu­sive­ly,” admits the Center’s Dr. Michael Ben­itez, “since there was no autop­sy after his death.” As with any mys­tery, the frus­trat­ing lack of evi­dence has sparked end­less spec­u­la­tion. The Poe Muse­um offers the fol­low­ing list of pos­si­ble caus­es-of-death, with dates and sources, includ­ing the rabies and alco­hol (both over­im­bib­ing and with­draw­al) the­o­ries:

    Beat­ing (1857) The Unit­ed States Mag­a­zine Vol.II (1857): 268.
    Epilep­sy (1875) Scrib­n­er’s Month­ly Vo1. 10 (1875): 691.
    Dip­so­ma­nia (1921) Robert­son, John W. Edgar A. Poe A Study. Brough, 1921: 134, 379.
    Heart (1926) Allan, Her­vey. Israfel. Dou­ble­day, 1926: Chapt. XXVII, 670.
    Tox­ic Dis­or­der (1970) Stu­dia Philo1ogica Vol. 16 (1970): 41–42.
    Hypo­glycemia (1979) Artes Lit­er­a­tus (1979) Vol. 5: 7–19.
    Dia­betes (1977) Sin­clair, David. Edgar Allan Poe. Roman & Litt1efield, 1977: 151–152.
    Alco­hol Dehy­dro­ge­nase (1984) Arno Karlen. Napo1eon’s Glands. Lit­tle Brown, 1984: 92.
    Por­phryia (1989) JMAMA Feb. 10, 1989: 863–864.
    Deleri­um Tremens (1992) Mey­ers, Jef­frey. Edgar A1lan Poe. Charles Scrib­n­er, 1992: 255.
    Rabies (1996) Mary­land Med­ical Jour­nal Sept. 1996: 765–769.
    Heart (1997) Sci­en­tif­ic Sleuthing Review Sum­mer 1997: 1–4.
    Mur­der (1998) Walsh, John E., Mid­night Drea­ry. Rut­gers Univ. Press, 1998: 119–120.
    Epilep­sy (1999) Archives of Neu­rol­o­gy June 1999: 646, 740.
    Car­bon Monox­ide Poi­son­ing (1999) Albert Don­nay
    The Smith­son­ian adds to this list the pos­si­ble caus­es of brain tumor, heavy met­al poi­son­ing, and the flu. They also briefly describe the most pop­u­lar the­o­ry: that Poe died as a result of a prac­tice called “coop­ing.”

    A site called The Med­ical Bag expands on the coop­ing the­o­ry, a favorite of “the vast major­i­ty of Poe biogra­phies.” The term refers to “a prac­tice in the Unit­ed States dur­ing the 19th cen­tu­ry by which inno­cent peo­ple were coerced into vot­ing, often sev­er­al times, for a par­tic­u­lar can­di­date in an elec­tion.” Often­times, these peo­ple were snatched unawares off the streets, “kept in a room, called the coop” and “giv­en alco­hol or drugs in order for them to fol­low orders. If they refused to coop­er­ate, they would be beat­en or even killed.” One dark­ly com­ic detail: vic­tims were often forced to change clothes and were even “forced to wear wigs, fake beards, and mus­tach­es as dis­guis­es so vot­ing offi­cials at polling sta­tions wouldn’t rec­og­nize them.”

    This the­o­ry is high­ly plau­si­ble. Poe was, after all, found “on the street on Elec­tion Day,” and “the place where he was found, Ryan’s Fourth Ward Polls, was both a bar and a place for vot­ing.” Add to this the noto­ri­ous­ly vio­lent and cor­rupt nature of Bal­ti­more elec­tions at the time, and you have a sce­nario in which the author may very well have been kid­napped, drugged, and beat­en to death in a vot­er fraud scheme. Ulti­mate­ly, how­ev­er, we will like­ly nev­er know for cer­tain what killed Edgar Allan Poe. Per­haps the “Poe Toast­er” was attempt­ing all those years to get the sto­ry from the source as he com­muned with his dead 19th cen­tu­ry friend year after year. But if that mys­te­ri­ous stranger knows the truth, he ain’t talk­ing either.

    Relat­ed Con­tent:

    5 Hours of Edgar Allan Poe Sto­ries Read by Vin­cent Price & Basil Rath­bone

    Édouard Manet Illus­trates Edgar Allan Poe’s The Raven, in a French Edi­tion Trans­lat­ed by Stephane Mal­lar­mé (1875)

    Down­load The Com­plete Works of Edgar Allan Poe: Macabre Sto­ries as Free eBooks & Audio Books

    Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

  • Medium Timmy says:

    Weird Flex but Ok

  • extremely large timmy says:

    exquis­ite boast but will do

  • Lil Tim tim says:

    Still beat tho

  • Medium Timmy says:

    Take­off the best migo dont @ me

  • Medium Timmy says:

    #LongLiveEdgar \=/

  • Clark says:

    Nah u trip­pin skip­pa da flip­pa the best migo

  • Medium Timmy says:

    Clark don’t want no smoke

  • squidward says:

    YAll dont want le smoke

  • ur mum says:

    LONG LIVE <3

  • broski says:

    It be qua­vo

  • tyrone says:

    #LLEAP\=/

  • Sans says:

    Gamers rise up

  • Clark says:

    Yall think Im playin

  • tyrone says:

    call­ing all epic fort­nite gamers, john wick needs your help. he is stuck in dusty div­ot, sur­round­ed by fake defaults, and has no shield. all he needs is your cred­it card infor­ma­tion, and the spe­cial 4 dig­its on the back

  • Student says:

    I’m con­fused

  • blah blah blah says:

    We all are

  • Ninja says:

    Not me because I am Nin­ja and Nin­ja knows all and under­stands all.

  • Gwen says:

    Who even wrote this arti­cle?!

  • i like jsab says:

    edgar allan poe reminds me of ¨JS&B¨New Game

  • Epic Gamer says:

    John Wick im here my four num­ber are 6969 and my cred­it card num­bers are 420420420

  • joe says:

    yoooo go fol­low my meme account on Insta­gram @Hipponoskippo2.0

  • CactusJack4.30.92 says:

    Travis Scott is a bet­ter poet than this mf tbh

  • JasonRuben says:

    John wick I Got chu. Rubens cred­it score is 420. His cred­it card num­ber is 675432876 and his 4 dig­its are 5436.

  • lucuspa says:

    bruh

  • JasonRuben says:

    i got you

  • Rebeca steve says:

    Hi, Yall. I thin i saw Edgar Allan Poe yes­ter­day in my dream. I think i may have seen the future.

  • Bruh says:

    Oh My God Real­ly!?! Me Too We Must Be Twins Or Some­thing.… :0

  • Gimmick says:

    I think this web­site is a total gim­mick. Ille­gal, annoy­ing, kin­da depress­ing, and most of all a looserville hang­out. You all should be repoort­ed. Wait thats a gim­mick.

  • Bruh says:

    Uh Oh Poopy

  • man dood u a looser says:

    U is a liar, noob, and a total jack butt. oh and depressed. Butt I think this rela­tion­ship is meant to be. Will you be my date to the Faz­zoli’s.

  • PoopyPants598 says:

    Dear man dood u a loos­er,
    you are the man of my dreams, i would love to go to Faz­zoli’s. I love eat­ing my own home­made spaget but this sounds fan­tas­tic. — PoopyPants598

  • Edgar Allan POe says:

    Inapro­pri­ate, you have been blocked

  • Boom Pop the sound of my heart says:

    The real edger allen poe is dead

  • The real Edgar says:

    Who is Edgar Allan Pow he sounds like a total loos­er to me. I think he should be cooped

  • PoopyPants598 says:

    Edger Allen Poe was my hus­band thats right i am his cousin Vir­ginia.

  • Rebeca Caudal says:

    That is Edgar Allan Poe to you.

  • PoopyPants598 says:

    Lis­ten sor­ry to tell ya but ur ded my guy

  • Red vase says:

    I think This red vase is cool­er than yours

  • Bruh says:

    Bruh, I think u is a phat loos­er and that you deserve no love.

  • Noah allen says:

    stop being annoy­ing please. You are mak­ing my head hurt or I will send kenth over to eat you.

  • Spaget says:

    Ok lis­ten no one likes u get that through ur giant fore­head.

  • Sara Johnson says:

    I am not one of you guys that keep harass­ing each oth­er. This needs to stop. I am the own­er of this web­page, you will be report­ed.

  • Thomas Miller says:

    Ok lis­ten here Aun­tie Goober, no one asked for you ur opin­ion

  • Taylor Miller says:

    Cool,no one cares. Also I went shop­ping today

  • blly says:

    he died from sicide

  • brady S says:

    no one cares noah. yOu can have a headache over car­loina

  • joe says:

    yo what school is this.

  • Mike Hawk says:

    Go sub­scribe @kaysen stevens

  • Mike Hawk says:

    Go fol­low me @kaysen.stevens on insta­gram

  • deeznuts says:

    we all know that he died from alco­hol pois­ing

  • {TTV} {[FAZE}] SILENC BOOMR says:

    SILENC BOOMR SILENC BOOMR SILENC BOOMR SILENC BOOMR SILENC BOOMR SILENC BOOMR

  • {TTV} {[FAZE}] SILENC BOOMR says:

    lick­ing them stinky toes eatin that fun­gus bro OH YA

  • ur dad kid says:

    U REALLY NEED HELP. stop get some help, you need it. coochie eater

  • {TTV} {[FAZE}] SILENC BOOMR says:

    SCREW OFF U ASSHAT YUR RUINING MY FUN

  • ah haha so funny says:

    Stop argu­ing, clear­ly you both are men­taly retart­ed and need some help, now i advise you to go and seek some and stop both­er­ing any­one and every­one chat­ting on this web­site. You coochie eat­ing boomer.

  • {TTV} {[FAZE}] SILENC BOOMR says:

    silence you boomer now seek help.

  • paloma :) says:

    He pos­si­bly died of a brain tumor. This would explain the way his remains were found when they found him when try­ing to move him into a new grave and why he react­ed in such ways to alco­hol.

  • Jeff says:

    No proof! Just a the­o­ry like all the rest of them.

  • Anonymous says:

    Because it may not be true. If you take the time to try and under­stand what had hap­pened that night, you will see that it is quite like­ly he did not in fact die of drinks. You will learn that he gave up drink­ing about six months before the night of his death, and that it is much more like­ly for him to have got­ten Deleri­um Tremens. I am not say­ing that it is impos­si­ble for him to have died of drinks, I am say­ing that you should not be set­ting it in stone with­out sol­id proof.

  • bhb says:

    he died from chok­ing on vom­it. sad part was it wasn’t his vom­it

  • Denton Mills says:

    wow he hot tho

  • poe says:

    these The­o­ries are a lit­tle too good

  • hahadsihsadkjf says:

    Divide and Con­quer: Each of you will add evi­dence beside each the­o­ry as you read your cho­sen arti­cle.

    Obser­va­tions from arti­cles:
    Beat­ing:
    Cooping:”Poe was, after all, found on the street on Elec­tion day.”
    Alco­hol: “Poe had many prob­lems with alco­hol.”
    Car­bon Monox­ide Poi­son­ing:
    Heavy Met­al Poi­son­ing:
    Rabies:”Poe had all the fea­tures of encephalitic Rabies.”
    Brain Tumor:
    Flu:
    Mur­der:”
    Sui­cide:

    Revised Hypoth­e­sis after read­ing arti­cles?

  • jaaa says:

    One my very first acts as a new New York­er many years ago was to make the jour­ney across three bor­oughs to Wood­lawn ceme­tery in the Bronx. My pur­pose: a pil­grim­age to Her­man Melville’s grave. I came not to wor­ship a hero, exact­ly, but—as Ford­ham Uni­ver­si­ty Eng­lish pro­fes­sor Angela O’Donnell writes—“to see a friend.” Pro­fes­sor O’Donnell goes on: “It might seem pre­sump­tu­ous to regard a cel­e­brat­ed 19th-cen­tu­ry nov­el­ist so famil­iar­ly, but read­ing a great writer across the decades is a means of con­duct­ing con­ver­sa­tion with him and, inevitably, leads to inti­ma­cy.” I ful­ly share the sen­ti­ment.

    I promised Melville I would vis­it reg­u­lar­ly but, alas, the plea­sures and tra­vails of life in the big city kept me away, and I nev­er returned. No such pet­ty dis­trac­tion kept away a friend-across-the-ages of anoth­er 19th-cen­tu­ry Amer­i­can author. “For decades,” writes the Bal­ti­more Sun, “Edgar Allan Poe’s birth­day was marked by a mys­te­ri­ous vis­i­tor to his gravesite in Bal­ti­more.

    Begin­ning in the 1930s, the ‘Poe Toast­er’ placed three ros­es at the grave every Jan. 19 and opened a bot­tle of cognac, only to dis­ap­pear into the night.” The tra­di­tion, which con­tin­ued until 2009, is cur­rent­ly being revived with an Amer­i­can Idol-style com­pe­ti­tion (do you have what it takes?). The iden­ti­ty of the orig­i­nal “Poe Toaster”—who may have been suc­ceed­ed by his son—remains a tan­ta­liz­ing mys­tery.

    Today, Octo­ber 7th, marks Poe’s death-day, and in hon­or of his macabre sen­si­bil­i­ty, we vis­it anoth­er mor­bid mystery—the mys­tery of how Edgar Allan Poe died.

    Most of you have prob­a­bly heard some ver­sion of the sto­ry. On Octo­ber 3, 1849, a com­pos­i­tor for the Bal­ti­more Sun, Joseph Walk­er, found Poe lying in a gut­ter. The poet had depart­ed Rich­mond, VA on Sep­tem­ber 27, bound for Philadel­phia “where he was to edit a vol­ume of poet­ry for Mrs. St. Leon Loud,” the Poe Muse­um tells us. Instead, he end­ed up in Bal­ti­more, “semi­con­scious and dressed in cheap, ill-fit­ting clothes so unlike Poe’s usu­al mode of dress that many believe that Poe’s own cloth­ing had been stolen.” He nev­er became lucid enough to explain where he had been or what hap­pened to him: “The father of the detec­tive sto­ry has left us with a real-life mys­tery which Poe schol­ars, med­ical pro­fes­sion­als, and oth­ers have been try­ing to solve for over 150 years.”

    Most peo­ple assume that Poe drank him­self to death. The rumor was part­ly spread by Poe’s friend, edi­tor Joseph Snod­grass, whom the poet had asked for in his semi-lucid state. Snod­grass was “a staunch tem­per­ance advo­cate” and had rea­son to recruit the writer posthu­mous­ly into his cam­paign against drink, despite the fact that Poe had been sober for six months pri­or to his death and had refused alco­hol on his deathbed. Poe’s attend­ing physi­cian, John Moran, dis­missed the binge drink­ing the­o­ry, but that did not help clear up the mys­tery. Moran’s “accounts vary so wide­ly,” writes Biography.com, “that they are not gen­er­al­ly con­sid­ered reli­able.”

    So what hap­pened? Doc­tors at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Mary­land Med­ical Cen­ter the­o­rize that Poe may have con­tract­ed rabies from one of his own pets—likely a cat. This diag­no­sis accounts for the delir­i­um and oth­er report­ed symp­toms, though “no one can say con­clu­sive­ly,” admits the Center’s Dr. Michael Ben­itez, “since there was no autop­sy after his death.” As with any mys­tery, the frus­trat­ing lack of evi­dence has sparked end­less spec­u­la­tion. The Poe Muse­um offers the fol­low­ing list of pos­si­ble caus­es-of-death, with dates and sources, includ­ing the rabies and alco­hol (both over­im­bib­ing and with­draw­al) the­o­ries:

    Beat­ing (1857) The Unit­ed States Mag­a­zine Vol.II (1857): 268.
    Epilep­sy (1875) Scribner’s Month­ly Vo1. 10 (1875): 691.
    Dip­so­ma­nia (1921) Robert­son, John W. Edgar A. Poe A Study. Brough, 1921: 134, 379.
    Heart (1926) Allan, Her­vey. Israfel. Dou­ble­day, 1926: Chapt. XXVII, 670.
    Tox­ic Dis­or­der (1970) Stu­dia Philo1ogica Vol. 16 (1970): 41–42.
    Hypo­glycemia (1979) Artes Lit­er­a­tus (1979) Vol. 5: 7–19.
    Dia­betes (1977) Sin­clair, David. Edgar Allan Poe. Roman & Litt1efield, 1977: 151–152.
    Alco­hol Dehy­dro­ge­nase (1984) Arno Karlen. Napo1eon’s Glands. Lit­tle Brown, 1984: 92.
    Por­phryia (1989) JMAMA Feb. 10, 1989: 863–864.
    Deleri­um Tremens (1992) Mey­ers, Jef­frey. Edgar A1lan Poe. Charles Scrib­n­er, 1992: 255.
    Rabies (1996) Mary­land Med­ical Jour­nal Sept. 1996: 765–769.
    Heart (1997) Sci­en­tif­ic Sleuthing Review Sum­mer 1997: 1–4.
    Mur­der (1998) Walsh, John E., Mid­night Drea­ry. Rut­gers Univ. Press, 1998: 119–120.
    Epilep­sy (1999) Archives of Neu­rol­o­gy June 1999: 646, 740.
    Car­bon Monox­ide Poi­son­ing (1999) Albert Don­nay
    The Smith­son­ian adds to this list the pos­si­ble caus­es of brain tumor, heavy met­al poi­son­ing, and the flu. They also briefly describe the most pop­u­lar the­o­ry: that Poe died as a result of a prac­tice called “coop­ing.”

    A site called The Med­ical Bag expands on the coop­ing the­o­ry, a favorite of “the vast major­i­ty of Poe biogra­phies.” The term refers to “a prac­tice in the Unit­ed States dur­ing the 19th cen­tu­ry by which inno­cent peo­ple were coerced into vot­ing, often sev­er­al times, for a par­tic­u­lar can­di­date in an elec­tion.” Often­times, these peo­ple were snatched unawares off the streets, “kept in a room, called the coop” and “giv­en alco­hol or drugs in order for them to fol­low orders. If they refused to coop­er­ate, they would be beat­en or even killed.” One dark­ly com­ic detail: vic­tims were often forced to change clothes and were even “forced to wear wigs, fake beards, and mus­tach­es as dis­guis­es so vot­ing offi­cials at polling sta­tions wouldn’t rec­og­nize them.”

    This the­o­ry is high­ly plau­si­ble. Poe was, after all, found “on the street on Elec­tion Day,” and “the place where he was found, Ryan’s Fourth Ward Polls, was both a bar and a place for vot­ing.” Add to this the noto­ri­ous­ly vio­lent and cor­rupt nature of Bal­ti­more elec­tions at the time, and you have a sce­nario in which the author may very well have been kid­napped, drugged, and beat­en to death in a vot­er fraud scheme. Ulti­mate­ly, how­ev­er, we will like­ly nev­er know for cer­tain what killed Edgar Allan Poe. Per­haps the “Poe Toast­er” was attempt­ing all those years to get the sto­ry from the source as he com­muned with his dead 19th cen­tu­ry friend year after year. But if that mys­te­ri­ous stranger knows the truth, he ain’t talk­ing either.

    Relat­ed Con­tent:

    5 Hours of Edgar Allan Poe Sto­ries Read by Vin­cent Price & Basil Rath­bone

    Édouard Manet Illus­trates Edgar Allan Poe’s The Raven, in a French Edi­tion Trans­lat­ed by Stephane Mal­lar­mé (1875)

    Down­load The Com­plete Works of Edgar Allan Poe: Macabre Sto­ries as Free eBooks & Audio Books

    Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

  • jaaa says:

    hey guys, knock knock?

    who’s there?

    Gob­lin!

    Gob­lin who?

    Gob­lin up deez nuts

    *Spon­ta­neous­ly com­busts*

  • Ninja says:

    Yo any­body wan­na hop on a quick round of COD, don’t real­ly care if you want to play meme or comp, could care less.

  • meow says:

    me too.

  • Nohah says:

    Not cor­rect

  • Travis Scott says:

    i got 8 bod­ies

  • Olives says:

    Sup Edgar

  • Ur mom says:

    I ate ur mom

  • Donald Trump says:

    I sucked Joe Biden.fbf

  • poe says:

    cap, man i’m still alive wait­ing…

    Neva,Neva,Neva the ocky way

  • bobby says:

    Call­in all roblox peeps tay­lor swift is com­ing soon

  • bobby says:

    Call­in all roblox peeps tay­lor swift is com­ing soon.….….

  • Ninja says:

    69 days till Xmas

  • edgar ap says:

    yall straight cap­pin on my name im still rep­pin my block

  • Brady says:

    I shart­ed myself

  • Brady says:

    nerd🤓

  • Daniel says:

    My clay hands are becom­ing sol­id porce­lain. I have always had potter’s hands. The throw­ing water absorbs the mois­tur­iz­ing oils of the skin. Leaves the hands rough. The clay paste dries and cracks the skin. Leav­ing it red.

    But now my hands are hard­en­ing. In the bisque fir­ing, my hands hard­en like porous green­ware. The cre­mat­ed car­bon and sul­fur escape, exhum­ing my soul from the earth­en clay, lit­tle by lit­tle, draw­ing it back to its source. The soul stews out in a boil­ing whis­tle, agi­tat­ing out from between the min­er­als lodged in the ridges and wrin­kles of each dig­it. The palms pet­ri­fy. The flesh sin­ters and binds to itself. In the glaze fir­ing, my hands glow red as the enam­el stiff­ens and makes the fin­gers rigid and reflec­tive. The sil­i­cate vit­ri­fies and turns to glass. Dust becomes crys­tal — like a baby’s flesh crys­tal­iz­ing into the win­dows of the eyes. I am born again in the womb of the kiln. I am a porce­lain vil­lage.

    I have received an order for a series of six ornate hand-paint­ed vas­es. It is enough mon­ey for Dandan’s first semes­ter. But I don’t know if I can com­plete the order. Though I strug­gle to find my hands, which have become like ghost appendages, I tell no one. I am fright­ened the orders will dry up. Dan­dan has been accept­ed at Colum­bia Uni­ver­si­ty for the fall and has always want­ed to go to the Unit­ed States. And she will need mon­ey. So I strug­gle to find strength and answers. For her. But I fear the pull of Tai Yi Shen — the great spir­it — the cre­ator God, pulling back the breath of life infused in this jar of clay.

    The Jan­u­ary morn­ings are misty, with a cold mist hug­ging the val­ley. My hands ache from the cold and wet of the riv­er. Though my touch is going, I still feel hot and cold. The dirt is hard and stiff under foot and smells like the burned dust of the kiln.

    I dig clay from the banks of the Jia Ling Riv­er. Back at my home shop, in Ciqik­ou, I mix var­i­ous min­er­als into the clay. Kaolin, sil­i­ca, and feldspars. I then wedge the day’s clay on a long wood­en table, fold­ing and press­ing to remove all of the air. If I do not get out all of the air, the clay will warp and crack in the kiln. Then I begin the process of form­ing the clay into the shape of fin­ished goods and ready it for five days of fir­ing. For pot­tery, we use a wheel and throw the clay. For com­plex shapes, a mold.

    As I mold today’s clay into tra­di­tion­al teacups using del­i­cate molds, Dan­dan brings me my morn­ing tea. It is a Jas­mine tea. It is a hon­ey orchid oolong tea. It smells of iris­es and orchids and the misty mead­ows of the Shiken­gong Moun­tain. It tastes sweet like nut­ty molasses with notes of a mild bit­ter metal­lic roast. Bright, cop­pery, and clean. With an after taste of the esters of bub­ble gum pow­der that is dis­tinc­tive of the jas­mine resin when prop­er­ly brewed.

    If I am a sim­ple rice bowl, Dan­dan is a hand paint­ed din­ing set. My giv­en name is Jing — Jing Yuchi — but Dan­dan and every­one else call me Jane.

    Ciqik­ou or Longyin Town in Chongquing, Chi­na is an ancient place. It means Porce­lain Vil­lage and if leg­end is to be believed, is the birth­place of porce­lain. The stone streets bor­der ances­tral tea­hous­es, pago­das, street food ven­dors sell­ing doughy mahua, and antique shops with strings of hang­ing red lanterns on every store­front. The Bao Lun Tem­ple stands above the town and stares back at the North Gate. Dan­dan is excit­ed for the Lantern Fes­ti­val next week. It will be her last before her trav­els and her great adven­ture.

    “Ama, we need to get ready for the lantern fes­ti­val,” Dan­dan says.

    “Bao bei, I have a big order I have to fill first,” I tell her.

    “Pfoof. For­get about your orders ama, I am mak­ing the tangyuan. I went to the mar­ket before and I have every­thing: brown sug­ar, sesame seed, wal­nut, and bean paste. And lots of rice,” she says.

    “You go in and start with­out me niu niu. I have to go down to the mar­ket and see Dr. Looey Zhou about the pain in my hands,” I say.

    “It is so beau­ti­ful in the mar­ket this time of year. I will miss all of the red lanterns. You know what the old leg­end says the rea­son is for the red lanterns,” Dan­dan says, want­i­ng to tell me for the eleven hun­dredth time.

    “No bao bei, what is it?” I humor her.

    “The Jade Emper­or sensed an upris­ing when his favorite crane was killed by his vil­lagers. He resolved to destroy the old vil­lage on the fif­teenth day of the lunar year, the night of the new moon — the yuan xiao jie. But his daugh­ter over­heard his plan. The princess was in love with a poor fisherman’s boy in the vil­lage. Know­ing what was going to hap­pen she warned the vil­lagers to put up red lanterns all over town. Then she fooled her father, telling him that the gods had already burned the vil­lage. And so every year we use the red lantern to sym­bol­ize the mer­cy of a young girl that over­throws the ill-fat­ed curse of a tyran­ni­cal lord and to pray for yuan yue — a for­tu­nate new begin­ning.” Dan­dan says, her face bright with a sat­is­fied smile.

    “You will have your own bright new begin­nings soon enough, now go fin­ish mak­ing the tangyuan.”

    “Oh ama, you have had pain in your hands all your life, come help me with the rice balls,” Dan­dan plead­ed.

    “Lat­er bao bei, lat­er,” I say.

    * * *

    Dr. Zhou is a stout man whose black hair has a thick lus­ter like that of a horse, embroi­dered with a few shiny this­tles of white. His eyes are bright and skin taut, fea­tur­ing a vibran­cy that is unusu­al for a man of sev­en­ty-six. He wears a white Han­fu linen shirt with frog but­tons and a chok­er col­lar. He smells of licorice and lemon and car­ries him­self in a calm, exact­ing man­ner.

    “Nushi Yuchi, what is both­er­ing you?” he asks.

    “I am los­ing feel­ing in my hands — los­ing touch,” I tell him.

    “Ohh, Jane, that must be ter­ri­fy­ing for you,” he says, tak­ing my right hand and needling it in a form of mas­sage, pulling on the fin­gers and work­ing his way down each of the bones of the hand, and press­ing and squeez­ing my thumb. “Your ener­gy is very weak in these hands.”

    “When I am work­ing with the clay, I can’t feel where my hand ends and the clay begins and some­times I look down and my hands are off the wheel,” I tell him.

    “Your yin or po can be sep­a­rat­ed from your spir­it. You know the sto­ry of Bay­ou — ”

    “ — zhao-hun, the call­ing back of the soul. But I have no delir­i­um. There are no dev­ils hid­ing in my clos­ets,” I say.

    “Maybe. No dev­ils. But Dan­dan is your heart. She is going to New York soon. Your essence is cold as mar­row is cold. Your yang is unsta­ble. But like cures like. You must steal a heart to replace lost heart, or you will lose all feel­ing and body and spir­it will be part­ed for­ev­er.” Dr. Zhou says. “Zao hun­dun er po tian­huang. Cure for cold body. Bore open chaos and destroy heaven’s neglect,” he adds with a wry grin that only a very old man can pull off.

    “You want me to take a lover at six­ty-sev­en,” I say, per­plexed. And then joke, “Dr. Zhou, are you flirt­ing with me?”

    “Take a lover. Adopt a stray dog. What­ev­er it takes to bring feel­ing back in bal­ance. One more thing Nushi Yuchi, get your­self some warm clothes. There will be snow for the yuan xiao jie — all week there have been clouds over the moon.”

    * * *

    How does an old lady steal a heart. It is one thing for Dan­dan, but for an old lady like me who is los­ing her sense of touch to touch anoth­er human heart — let alone steal it — is a tall order. I puz­zle over strate­gies and tac­tics. Food comes to mind. Visu­al allure is not entire­ly out of the ques­tion, as I have kept my fig­ure and prac­tice yoga dai­ly. Dan­dan is the sto­ry­teller. I have no apti­tude for words. Paint­ing is anoth­er idea. But whose heart can I steal? Where do I even look? Will there be some­one at the win­ter fes­ti­val of the new moon?

    The mail lady deliv­ers my mail and the check for the six vas­es is there, just in time. I will have to go lat­er and deposit this and get a traveler’s check for the gift.

    I place the bisque ware on a cook­ie and begin the process of apply­ing the ini­tial glaze col­or­ing.

    These large white gourd vas­es are paint­ed with three lay­ers of blue glaze. On the mouth are the petals of open­ing flow­ers lead­ing to a bor­der by the lip of the vase. Below, at the bot­tom of the neck, is anoth­er bor­der and a skirt to sep­a­rate the body of the vase, with branch­ing vines and ornate cir­cu­lar flow­ers in a frac­tal design, paint­ed cir­cu­lar­ly around the curves of the vase to cre­ate an effect like move­ment. I add two blue­birds and a hum­ming­bird for added flare.

    Now for the glaze fir­ing and then in three days the final touch­es. And I can’t for­get the final touch of my spe­cial gift, the porce­lain chest.

    * * *

    I go to see my friend Sisi, who works at the can­dy shop across the way. I walk in past the tourists, and we go in the back area of the shop where she is watch­ing the Real House­wives of New Jer­sey and spend­ing time on WeChat with her Amer­i­can ‘boyfriend.’

    Sisi has big man­tis-like eyes and a round­ed head. Her hair seems flat on top like a small tight-fit­ting cap. Her cheeks are warm and curi­ous, but she has a seri­ous chin.

    “Jane! You came such a long way to see me. I am so delight­ed! Will you be com­ing out for the lantern fes­ti­val Fri­day?”

    “I wouldn’t miss it,” I tell her.

    “So what is going on Janey?” she asks.

    “Dr. Zhou says I have to steal a heart,” I say.

    “At your age? You’d soon­er steal a pen­ny off a dead man’s eyes!” she says.

    “Hey,” I say, “it isn’t that bad, is it,” and I blush — and we both break out in laugh­ter.

    “You know the old folk sto­ry about the farmer, right? About the luck?” Sisi says.

    “No, tell it to me,” I say.

    “A farmer gets a horse, which soon runs away. A neigh­bor says, ‘That’s bad news.’ The farmer replies, ‘Good news, bad news, who can say?’ The horse comes back and brings anoth­er horse with him. Good news, you might say. The farmer gives the sec­ond horse to his son, who rides it, then is thrown and bad­ly breaks his leg. ‘So sor­ry for your bad news,’ says the con­cerned neigh­bor. ‘Good news, bad news, who can say?’ the farmer replies. In a week or so, the emperor’s men come and take every able-bod­ied young man to fight in a war. The farmer’s son is spared.”

    “Ok. That is a good sto­ry, but I don’t know what I’m sup­posed to get from that,” I tell her.

    “It could mean a lot of things. But what I think is, maybe you are hav­ing trou­ble let­ting go of Dan­dan. Maybe like the horse that runs away comes

  • urdog says:

    make me

  • erm, what the sigma says:

    bro, what are these, I’m just doing a fuck­ing research project man

  • No Swearing says:

    plz no swear­ing thxz

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