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Poe, Edgar Allen - The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe

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by Volume 01-05 (lit)


  to the propriety and feasibility of awakening him; but we had little

  difficulty in agreeing that no good purpose would be served by so

  doing. It was evident that, so far, death (or what is usually termed

  death) had been arrested by the mesmeric process. It seemed clear to

  us all that to awaken M. Valdemar would be merely to insure his

  instant, or at least his speedy dissolution.

  From this period until the close of last week -- an interval of

  nearly seven months -- we continued to make daily calls at M.

  Valdemar's house, accompanied, now and then, by medical and other

  friends. All this time the sleeper-waker remained exactly as I have

  last described him. The nurses' attentions were continual.

  It was on Friday last that we finally resolved to make the experiment

  of awakening or attempting to awaken him; and it is the (perhaps)

  unfortunate result of this latter experiment which has given rise to

  so much discussion in private circles -- to so much of what I cannot

  help thinking unwarranted popular feeling.

  For the purpose of relieving M. Valdemar from the mesmeric trance, I

  made use of the customary passes. These, for a time, were

  unsuccessful. The first indication of revival was afforded by a

  partial descent of the iris. It was observed, as especially

  remarkable, that this lowering of the pupil was accompanied by the

  profuse out-flowing of a yellowish ichor (from beneath the lids) of a

  pungent and highly offensive odor.

  It was now suggested that I should attempt to influence the patient's

  arm, as heretofore. I made the attempt and failed. Dr. F -- then

  intimated a desire to have me put a question. I did so, as follows:

  "M. Valdemar, can you explain to us what are your feelings or wishes

  now?"

  There was an instant return of the hectic circles on the cheeks; the

  tongue quivered, or rather rolled violently in the mouth (although

  the jaws and lips remained rigid as before;) and at length the same

  hideous voice which I have already described, broke forth:

  "For God's sake! -- quick! -- quick! -- put me to sleep -- or, quick!

  -- waken me! -- quick! -- I say to you that I am dead!"

  I was thoroughly unnerved, and for an instant remained undecided what

  to do. At first I made an endeavor to re-compose the patient; but,

  failing in this through total abeyance of the will, I retraced my

  steps and as earnestly struggled to awaken him. In this attempt I

  soon saw that I should be successful -- or at least I soon fancied

  that my success would be complete -- and I am sure that all in the

  room were prepared to see the patient awaken.

  For what really occurred, however, it is quite impossible that any

  human being could have been prepared.

  As I rapidly made the mesmeric passes, amid ejaculations of "dead!

  dead!" absolutely bursting from the tongue and not from the lips of

  the sufferer, his whole frame at once -- within the space of a single

  minute, or even less, shrunk -- crumbled -- absolutely rotted away

  beneath my hands. Upon the bed, before that whole company, there lay

  a nearly liquid mass of loathsome -- of detestable putridity.

  ~~~ End of Text ~~~

  ======

  THE BLACK CAT.

  FOR the most wild, yet most homely narrative which I am about to

  pen, I neither expect nor solicit belief. Mad indeed would I be to

  expect it, in a case where my very senses reject their own evidence.

  Yet, mad am I not - and very surely do I not dream. But to-morrow I

  die, and to-day I would unburthen my soul. My immediate purpose is to

  place before the world, plainly, succinctly, and without comment, a

  series of mere household events. In their consequences, these events

  have terrified - have tortured - have destroyed me. Yet I will not

  attempt to expound them. To me, they have presented little but Horror

  - to many they will seem less terrible than _barroques_. Hereafter,

  perhaps, some intellect may be found which will reduce my phantasm to

  the common-place - some intellect more calm, more logical, and far

  less excitable than my own, which will perceive, in the circumstances

  I detail with awe, nothing more than an ordinary succession of very

  natural causes and effects.

  From my infancy I was noted for the docility and humanity of my

  disposition. My tenderness of heart was even so conspicuous as to

  make me the jest of my companions. I was especially fond of animals,

  and was indulged by my parents with a great variety of pets. With

  these I spent most of my time, and never was so happy as when feeding

  and caressing them. This peculiarity of character grew with my

  growth, and in my manhood, I derived from it one of my principal

  sources of pleasure. To those who have cherished an affection for a

  faithful and sagacious dog, I need hardly be at the trouble of

  explaining the nature or the intensity of the gratification thus

  derivable. There is something in the unselfish and self-sacrificing

  love of a brute, which goes directly to the heart of him who has had

  frequent occasion to test the paltry friendship and gossamer fidelity

  of mere _Man_.

  I married early, and was happy to find in my wife a disposition

  not uncongenial with my own. Observing my partiality for domestic

  pets, she lost no opportunity of procuring those of the most

  agreeable kind. We had birds, gold-fish, a fine dog, rabbits, a small

  monkey, and _a cat_.

  This latter was a remarkably large and beautiful animal, entirely

  black, and sagacious to an astonishing degree. In speaking of his

  intelligence, my wife, who at heart was not a little tinctured with

  superstition, made frequent allusion to the ancient popular notion,

  which regarded all black cats as witches in disguise. Not that she

  was ever _serious_ upon this point - and I mention the matter at all

  for no better reason than that it happens, just now, to be

  remembered.

  Pluto - this was the cat's name - was my favorite pet and

  playmate. I alone fed him, and he attended me wherever I went about

  the house. It was even with difficulty that I could prevent him from

  following me through the streets.

  Our friendship lasted, in this manner, for several years, during

  which my general temperament and character - through the

  instrumentality of the Fiend Intemperance - had (I blush to confess

  it) experienced a radical alteration for the worse. I grew, day by

  day, more moody, more irritable, more regardless of the feelings of

  others. I suffered myself to use intemperate language to my wife. At

  length, I even offered her personal violence. My pets, of course,

  were made to feel the change in my disposition. I not only neglected,

  but ill-used them. For Pluto, however, I still retained sufficient

  regard to restrain me from maltreating him, as I made no scruple of

  maltreating the rabbits, the monkey, or even the dog, when by

  accident, or through affection, they came in my way. But my disease

  grew upon me - for what disease is like Alcohol! - and at length even

  Pluto, who was now becoming old, and consequentl
y somewhat peevish -

  even Pluto began to experience the effects of my ill temper.

  One night, returning home, much intoxicated, from one of my

  haunts about town, I fancied that the cat avoided my presence. I

  seized him; when, in his fright at my violence, he inflicted a slight

  wound upon my hand with his teeth. The fury of a demon instantly

  possessed me. I knew myself no longer. My original soul seemed, at

  once, to take its flight from my body and a more than fiendish

  malevolence, gin-nurtured, thrilled every fibre of my frame. I took

  from my waistcoat-pocket a pen-knife, opened it, grasped the poor

  beast by the throat, and deliberately cut one of its eyes from the

  socket! I blush, I burn, I shudder, while I pen the damnable

  atrocity.

  When reason returned with the morning - when I had slept off the

  fumes of the night's debauch - I experienced a sentiment half of

  horror, half of remorse, for the crime of which I had been guilty;

  but it was, at best, a feeble and equivocal feeling, and the soul

  remained untouched. I again plunged into excess, and soon drowned in

  wine all memory of the deed.

  In the meantime the cat slowly recovered. The socket of the lost

  eye presented, it is true, a frightful appearance, but he no longer

  appeared to suffer any pain. He went about the house as usual, but,

  as might be expected, fled in extreme terror at my approach. I had so

  much of my old heart left, as to be at first grieved by this evident

  dislike on the part of a creature which had once so loved me. But

  this feeling soon gave place to irritation. And then came, as if to

  my final and irrevocable overthrow, the spirit of PERVERSENESS. Of

  this spirit philosophy takes no account. Yet I am not more sure that

  my soul lives, than I am that perverseness is one of the primitive

  impulses of the human heart - one of the indivisible primary

  faculties, or sentiments, which give direction to the character of

  Man. Who has not, a hundred times, found himself committing a vile or

  a silly action, for no other reason than because he knows he should

  not? Have we not a perpetual inclination, in the teeth of our best

  judgment, to violate that which is _Law_, merely because we

  understand it to be such? This spirit of perverseness, I say, came to

  my final overthrow. It was this unfathomable longing of the soul _to

  vex itself_ - to offer violence to its own nature - to do wrong for

  the wrong's sake only - that urged me to continue and finally to

  consummate the injury I had inflicted upon the unoffending brute. One

  morning, in cool blood, I slipped a noose about its neck and hung it

  to the limb of a tree; - hung it with the tears streaming from my

  eyes, and with the bitterest remorse at my heart; - hung it _because_

  I knew that it had loved me, and _because_ I felt it had given me no

  reason of offence; - hung it _because_ I knew that in so doing I was

  committing a sin - a deadly sin that would so jeopardize my immortal

  soul as to place it - if such a thing wore possible - even beyond the

  reach of the infinite mercy of the Most Merciful and Most Terrible

  God.

  On the night of the day on which this cruel deed was done, I was

  aroused from sleep by the cry of fire. The curtains of my bed were in

  flames. The whole house was blazing. It was with great difficulty

  that my wife, a servant, and myself, made our escape from the

  conflagration. The destruction was complete. My entire worldly wealth

  was swallowed up, and I resigned myself thenceforward to despair.

  I am above the weakness of seeking to establish a sequence of

  cause and effect, between the disaster and the atrocity. But I am

  detailing a chain of facts - and wish not to leave even a possible

  link imperfect. On the day succeeding the fire, I visited the ruins.

  The walls, with one exception, had fallen in. This exception was

  found in a compartment wall, not very thick, which stood about the

  middle of the house, and against which had rested the head of my bed.

  The plastering had here, in great measure, resisted the action of the

  fire - a fact which I attributed to its having been recently spread.

  About this wall a dense crowd were collected, and many persons seemed

  to be examining a particular portion of it with very minute and eager

  attention. The words "strange!" "singular!" and other similar

  expressions, excited my curiosity. I approached and saw, as if graven

  in _bas relief_ upon the white surface, the figure of a gigantic

  _cat_. The impression was given with an accuracy truly marvellous.

  There was a rope about the animal's neck.

  When I first beheld this apparition - for I could scarcely regard

  it as less - my wonder and my terror were extreme. But at length

  reflection came to my aid. The cat, I remembered, had been hung in a

  garden adjacent to the house. Upon the alarm of fire, this garden had

  been immediately filled by the crowd - by some one of whom the animal

  must have been cut from the tree and thrown, through an open window,

  into my chamber. This had probably been done with the view of

  arousing me from sleep. The falling of other walls had compressed the

  victim of my cruelty into the substance of the freshly-spread

  plaster; the lime of which, with the flames, and the _ammonia_ from

  the carcass, had then accomplished the portraiture as I saw it.

  Although I thus readily accounted to my reason, if not altogether

  to my conscience, for the startling fact just detailed, it did not

  the less fail to make a deep impression upon my fancy. For months I

  could not rid myself of the phantasm of the cat; and, during this

  period, there came back into my spirit a half-sentiment that seemed,

  but was not, remorse. I went so far as to regret the loss of the

  animal, and to look about me, among the vile haunts which I now

  habitually frequented, for another pet of the same species, and of

  somewhat similar appearance, with which to supply its place.

  One night as I sat, half stupified, in a den of more than infamy,

  my attention was suddenly drawn to some black object, reposing upon

  the head of one of the immense hogsheads of Gin, or of Rum, which

  constituted the chief furniture of the apartment. I had been looking

  steadily at the top of this hogshead for some minutes, and what now

  caused me surprise was the fact that I had not sooner perceived the

 

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