oriety which its connection with the
poet would render unavoidable. But now, he says, in his old age, and
having outlived all who knew him at the time, this consideration is of
little worth to him. If the story be not true, we cannot see why it
should have been invented. At least, it cannot, at the present day, be
disproved, and it certainly appears to be the most probable and natural
explanation of the poet's death that has been given. It agrees also with
Dr. Moran's account of Poe's condition when he was received at the
hospital, and with the latter's earnest assurance that he himself was
not responsible for that condition, and also with his requesting that
Dr. Snodgrass be sent for. The kidnappers had probably exchanged his
garments for others as a means of disguise, intending to restore them
eventually. They at least did not take from him the handsome malacca
cane which was in his grasp when he reached the hospital; and which
which would tend to prove that he was not then altogether unconscious.
This cane was, at Dr. Carter's request, returned to him by Mrs. Clemm,
to whom Dr. Moran sent it. His baggage, left at the Swan, was sent by
Mr. Mackenzie to Mrs. Clemm, disproving the story that it had been
stolen from him in Baltimore.

In addition to the above, we find another and very similar account,
apparently by the same Dr. Snodgrass, in the "_San Francisco Chronicle_
of August 31," the date of the year not appearing on the clipping from
which I make the following extracts:

"You say that Poe did not die from the effects of deliberate
dissipation?" asked the _Chronicle_ reporter.

"That is just what I do mean; and I say further that he died from the
effects of deliberate murder."

The author of this assertion was a well-known member of this city's
advanced and inveterate Bohemia; a gentleman who has long since retired
from the active pursuits of his profession and spends his old age in
dreamy meditation, frequenting one of the popular resorts of the craft,
but mingling little in their society. When joining in their
conversation, it is generally to correct some errors from his
inexhaustible mine of reminiscences, and on these occasions his words
are few and precise.

"Then you knew something of the poet, Doctor?"

"I was his intimate associate for years. Much that biographers have said
of him is false, especially regarding his death. Poe was not an habitual
drunkard, but he was a steady drinker when his means a