Mr. Poe’s Reply to Mr. English and Others — July 10, 1846 — reading text

resolved that nobody else should ever hear of him — this Mr. Wise — or even think of him, again. That Mr. Wise had never heard of Mr. English (probably on account of his being always called Mr. Brown) was no concern of Mr. English's. He wrote an “article” — I saw it. He put “the magic of his name” —   his three names — at the bottom of it. He printed it. He handed it for inspection to all the inhabitants of Philadelphia. He then buttoned up his coat — took under the tails of it seven revolvers — and dispatched the article, duly addressed, with his compliments, to “the Hon, Henry A. Wise,” who then resided at the house of the President. Now, I never could understand precisely how or why it was that the Hon, Henry A. Wise did not repair forthwith from Washington to Philadelphia, with a company of the U. S. Artillery — the loan of which his interest could have obtained of Mr. Tyler — why he did not come, I say, to Philadelphia, engage Mr. English, take him captive, cut off his goatee, put him on a high stool, and insist upon his reading (upside down) the whole of that “Sonnet to Azthene” in which the poet sings about his “dreams” that “seems” and other English peculiarities. The punishment would have been scarcely more than adequate to the offence. The Philippic written by Mr. E. was, in fact, very severe. It called Mr. Wise “a poltroon” — an “ass,” if I remember — and “a dirty despicable vagabond”of that I feel particularly sure. There occurs then, of course, a question in metaphysics — “why did not the Hon. Henry A. Wise repair to Philadelphia and take Mr. Thomas Dunn Brown by the nose? Perhaps the legislator had a horror of moustaches. But then neither did he write. Not even one word did he say-absolutely not one-nothing! Mr. Brown's distress was, not altogether that he could not get himself kicked, but that he could not get any kind of a reason for the omission of the kicking. This affair is to be classed among the “Historical Doubts” — among the insoluble problems of History. However — Mr. Wise felt himself everlastingly ruined, and soon after, as Minister to France, went, a brokenhearted man, into exile. Mr. Brown abandoned the city of his birth. He has never been the same person since — that is to say be has been a person beside himself. He fords it impossible to recover from a chronic attack of astonishment. When he dies, the coroner's verdict will be “Taken by Surprise.” This matter will account for Mr. English's inveterate habit of rolling up the whites of his eyes. About the one or two other unimportant points in this gentleman's attack upon myself, there is, I believe, very little to be said. He asserts that I have complimented his literary performances. The sin of having, at one time, attempted to patronize him, is, I fear, justly to be laid to my charge; — but his goatee was so continual a source of admiration to me that I found it impossible ever to write a serious line in his behalf. And then the Imp of Mischief whispered in my ear, telling me how great a charity it would be to the public if I would only put the pen into Mr. English's own hand, and permit him to kill himself off by self-praise. I listened to this whisper — and the public should have seen the zeal with which the poet labored in the good cause. If in this public's estimation Mr. English did not become at once Phoebus Apollo, at least it was no fault of Mr. English's. I solemnly say that in no paper of mine did there ever appear one word about this gentleman-unless of the broadest and most unmistakeable irony — that was not printed from the MS. of the gentleman himself. The last number of “The Broadway Journal” (the work having been turned over by me to another publisher) was edited by Mr. English. The editorial portion was wholly his, and was one interminable Pan of his own praises. The truth of all this — if any one is weak enough to care a penny about who praises or who damns Mr. English — will no doubt be corroborated by Mr. Jennings, the printer. I am charged, too, unspecifically, with being a plagiarist on a very extensive scale. He who accuses another of what all the world knows to be especially false, is merely rendering the accused a service by calling attention to the converse of the fact, and should never be helped out of his ridiculous position by any denial on the part of his enemy. We want a Magazine paper on “The Philosophy of Billingsgate.” But I am really ashamed of indulging even in a sneer at this poor miserable fool, on any mere topic of literature alone. He says, too, that I “seem determined to hunt him down.” He said the very same thing to Mr. Wise, who had not the most remote conception that any such individual had ever been born of woman. “Hunt him down!” Is it possible that I shall ever forget the paroxysm of laughter which the phrase occasioned me when I first saw it in Mr. English's MS? “Hunt him down!” What idea can the man attach to the term “down?” Does be really conceive that there exists a deeper depth of either moral or physical degradation than that of the hog-puddles in which he has wallowed from his infancy? “Hunt him down!” By Heaven! I should, in the first place, be under the stern necessity of hunting him up — up from among the dock-loafers and wharf-rats, his cronies. Besides, “hunt” is not precisely the word. “Catch” would do better. We say “hunting a buffalo” — “hunting a lion,” and, in a dearth of words, we might even go so far as to say “hunting a pig” — but we say “catching a frog” — “catching a weasel’ — “catching an English” — and “catching a flea.” As a matter of course I should have been satisfied to follow the good example of Mr. Wise, when insulted by Mr. English, (if this indeed be the person's name) had there been nothing more serious in the blatherskite's attack than the particulars to which I have hitherto alluded. The two passages which follow, however, are to be found in the article referred to: “I hold Mr. Poe's acknowledgments for a sum of money which he obtained from me under false pretences.” And again: “A merchant of this city had accused him of committing forgery, and as he was afraid to challenge him to the field, or chastise him personally, I suggested a legal prosecution as his sole remedy. At his request I obtained a counsellor who was willing, as a compliment to me, to conduct his suit without the customary retaining fee. But, though so eager at first to commence proceedings, he dropped the matter altogether when the time came for him to act — thus virtually admitting the truth of the charge.” It will be admitted by the most patient that these accusations are of such character as to justify me in rebutting them in the most public manner possible, even when they are found to be urged by a Thomas Dunn English. The charges are criminal, and with the aid of “The Mirror” I can have them investigated before a criminal tribunal. In the meantime I must not lie under these imputations a moment longer than necessary. To the first charge I reply, then, simply that Mr. English is indebted to me in what (to me) is a considerable sum — that I owe him nothing — that in the assertion that he holds my acknowledgment for a sum of money under any pretence obtained, he lies — and that I defy him to produce such acknowledgment. In regard to the second charge I must necessarily be a little more explicit. “The merchant of New York” alluded to, is a gentleman of high respectability — Mr. Edward I. Thomas, of Broad Street. I have now the honor of his acquaintance, but some time previous to this acquaintance, he had remarked to a common friend that he had heard whispered against me an accusation of forgery. The friend, as in duty bound, reported this matter to me. I called at once on Mr. Thomas, who gave me no very thorough explanation, but promised to make inquiry, and confer with me hereafter. Not hearing from him in what I thought due time, however, I sent him (unfortunately by Mr. English, who was always in my office for the purpose of doing himself honor in running my errands) a note, of which the following is a copy: OFFICE OF THE BROADWAY JOURNAL, ETC. EDWARD J. THOMAS, Esq. Sir: — As I have not had the pleasure of hearing from you since our interview at your office, may I ask of you to state to me distinctly, whether I am to consider the charge of forgery urged by you against myself, in the presence of a common friend, as originating with yourself or Mr. Benjamin?     Your ob. serv’t., (Signed)  EDGAR A. POE. The reply brought me was verbal and somewhat vague. As usual, my messenger had played the bully, and, as very usual, had been treated with contempt. The idea of challenging a man for a charge of forgery could only have entered the head of an owl or an English: — of course I had no resource but in a suit, which one of Mr. E's friends offered to conduct for me. I left town to procure evidence, and on my return found at my house a letter from Mr. Thomas. It ran thus: NEW YORK. July 5, 1845. E.A. POE, Esq., New York, Dear Sir: — I had hoped ere this to have seen you, but as you have not called, and as I may soon be out of the city, I desire to say to you that, after repeated effort, I saw the person on Friday evening last, from whom the report originated to which you referred in your call at my office. [The contemptuous silence in respect to the communication sent through Mr. E. will be observed.] He denies it in toto — says he does not know it and never said so — and it undoubtedly arose from the misunderstanding of some word used. It gives me pleasure thus to trace it, and still more to find it destitute of foundation in truth, as I thought would be the case. I have told Mr. Benjamin the result of my inquiries, and shall do so to — [the lady referred to as the common friend]’ by a very early opportunity — the only two persons who know anything of the matter, as far as I know.   I am, Sir, very truly your friend and obed’t. st. (Signed)  EDWARD J. THOMAS. Now, as this note was most satisfactory and most kind — as I neither wished nor could have accepted Mr. Thomas’ money — as the motives which had actuated him did not seem to me malevolent — as I had heard him spoken of in the most flattering manner by one whom, above all others, I most profoundly respect and esteem — it does really appear to me hard to comprehend how even so malignant a villain as this English could have wished me to proceed with the suit. In the presence of witnesses I handed him the letter, and, without meaning anything in especial, requested his opinion. In lieu of it he gave me his advice; — it was that I should deny having received such a letter and urge the prosecution to extremity. I promptly ordered him to quit the house. In his capacity of hound, he obeyed. These are the facts which, in a court of justice, I propose to demonstrate — and, having demonstrated them, shall I not have a right to demand of a generous public that it brand with eternal infamy that wretch, who, with a full knowledge of my exculpation from so heinous a charge, has not been ashamed to take advantage of my supposed inability to defend myself, for the purpose of stigmatising me as a felon! And of the gentleman who (also with a thorough knowledge of the facts, as I can and will show) prostituted his filthy sheet to the circulation of this calumny — of him what is it necessary to say? At present nothing. He heads Mr. English's article with a profession of pity for myself. Ah yes, indeed! Mr. Fuller is a pitiful man. Much is he to be pitied for his countenance (that of a fat sheep in a reverie) — for his Providential escapes — for the unwavering conjugal chivalry which, in a public theatre ——— but I pause. Not even in taking vengeance on a Fuller can I stoop to become a Fuller myself. The fact is, it is difficult to be angry with this man. Let his self-complacency be observed! How absolute an unconsciousness of that proverbial mental imbecility which serves to keep all the