T A L E S

BY

EDGAR A. POE,

LONDON:
WILEY & PUTNAM, 6, WATERLOO PLACE.

1846.

[ENTERED AT STATIONERS' HALL.]

 CONTENTS.

PAOK
THE GOLD-BUG 1

THE BLACK CAT . 37

MESMERIC REVELATION <* 47

LIONIZING 58

THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER ...... 64

A DESCENT INTO THE MAELSTROM 83

THE COLLOQUY OF MONOS AND UNA . . . 100

THE CONVERSATION OF EIROS AND CHARMION , . .110

THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE 119

THE MYSTERY OF MARIE ROGET t 151

THE PURLOINED LETTER .... .... 200

THE MAN IN THE CROWD 219

116 FOE'S TALES.

THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE.

What song the Syrens sang, or what name Achilles assumed when he hid
himself among women, although puzzling questions, are not beyond all con
jecture. ,
Sir TTiomas Browne.

THE mental features discoursed of as the analytical, are, in

themselves, but little susceptible of analysis. appreciate We
them only in their effects. We know among other
of them,

things, that they are always to their possessor, when inordinately

possessed, a source of the liveliest enjoyment. As the strong
man exults in his physical ability, delighting in such exercises as
call his muscles into action, so glories the analyst in that moral
activity which disentangles. He derives pleasure from even the
most trivial occupations bringing his talent into play. He is fond
of enigmas, of conundrums, of hieroglyphics ; exhibiting in his
solutions of each a degree of acumen which appears to the ordi

nary apprehension preternatural. His results, brought about by

the very soul and essence of method, have, in truth, the whole air
of intuition.
The faculty of re-solution is possibly much invigorated by
mathematical study, and especially by that highest branch of it
which, unjustly, and merely on account of its retrograde opera
tions, has been called, as if par excellence, analysis. Yet to cal
culate is not in itself to
analyse. A
chess-player, for example,
does the one without effort at the other. It follows that the game

of chess, in its effects upon mental character, is greatly misun

derstood. I am not nowwriting a treatise, but simply prefacing
a somewhat peculiar narrative by observations yery much at ran-
 THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE. 117

dom ;
I will, therefore, take occasion to assert that the higher

powers of the reflective intellect are more decidedly and more

usefully tasked by the unostentatious game of draughts than by all

the elaborate frivolity of chess. In this latter, where the pieces
have different and bizarre motions, with various and variable
values, what is only complex is mistaken (a not unusual error)
for what is profound. The attention is here called powerfully
into play. If it flag for an instant, an oversight is committed,

resulting in injury or defeat. The possible moves being not only

manifold but involute, the chances of such oversights are multi
plied ; and in nine cases out of ten it is the more concentrative
rather than the more acute player who conquers. In draughts, on
the contrary, where the moves are unique and have but little va
riation, the probabilities of inadvertence are diminished, and the
mere attention being left comparatively unemployed, what advan
tages are obtained by either party are obtained by superior acumen.
To be less abstract Let us suppose a game of draughts where
the pieces are reduced to four kings, and where, of course, no

oversight is to be expected. It is obvious that here the victory can

be decided (the players being at all equal) only by some recher
che movement, the result of some strong exertion of the intellect.

Deprived of ordinary resources, the analyst throws himself into

the spirit of his opponent, identifies himself therewith, and not un-

frequently sees thus, at a glance, the sole methods (sometimes

indeed absurdly simple ones) by which he may seduce into error
or hurry into miscalculation.
Whist has long been noted for its influence upon what is
termed the calculating power ; and men of the highest order of
intellect have been known to take an apparently unaccountable

delight in it, while eschewing chess as frivolous. Beyond doubt

there is
nothing of a similar nature so greatly tasking the faculty
of analysis. The best chess-player in Christendom may be little
more than the best player of chess ; but proficiency in whist im
plies capacity for success in all those
more important undertakings
where mind struggles with mind. When I say proficiency, I
mean that perfection in the game which includes a comprehension
of all the sources whence legitimate advantage may be derived.
These are not only manifold but multiform, and lie frequently
118 FOE'S TALES.

among recesses of thought altogether inaccessible to the ordinary

understanding. To observe attentively is to remember distinctly ;

and, so far, the concentrative chess-player will do very well at
whist; while the rules of Hoyle (themselves based upon the mere
mechanism of the game) are sufficiently and generally compre
hensible. Thus to have a retentive memory, and to proceed by
" the sum
book," are points commonly regarded as the total of

good playing. But it is in matters beyond the limits of mere rule

that the skill of the analyst is evinced. He makes, in silence, a
host of observations and inferences. So, perhaps, do his com
panions ;
and the difference in the extent of the information ob
tained, lies not so much in the validity of the inference as in the

quality of the observation. The necessary knowledge is that of

what to observe. Our player confines himself not at all ; nor,
because the game is the object, does he reject deductions from
things external to the game. He examines the countenance of
his partner, comparing it carefully with that of each of his oppo
nents. He considers the mode of assorting the cards in each
hand ;
often counting trump by trump, and honor by honor, through
the glances bestowed by their holders upon each. He notes every
variation of face as the play progresses, gathering a fund of

thought from the differences in the expression of certainty, of

surprise, of triumph, or of chagrin. From the manner of gather
ing up a trick he judges whether the person taking it can make
another in the He recognises what is played through feint,
suit.

by the which it is thrown upon the table, A casual or

air with
inadvertent word ; the accidental dropping or turning of a card,
with the accompanying anxiety or carelessness in regard to its
concealment ; the counting of the tricks, with the order of their
arrangement ; embarrassment, hesitation, eagerness or trepidation
all afford, to his apparently intuitive perception, indications of
the true state of affairs. The first two or three rounds having
been played, he is in full possession of the contents of each hand,
and thenceforward puts down his cards with as absolute a precision
of purpose as if the rest of the party had turned outward the
faces of their own.
The analytical power should not be confounded with simple in

genuity ; for while the analyst is necessarily ingenious, the inge-

 THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE. 119

nious man
often remarkably incapable of analysis.
is The con
structive or combining power, by which ingenuity is usually
manifested, and to which the phrenologists (I believe erroneously)
have assigned a separate organ, supposing it a primitive faculty,
has been so frequently seen in those whose intellect bordered other
wise upon idiocy, as to have attracted general observation among
writers on morals. Between ingenuity and the analytic ability
there exists a difference far greater, indeed, than that between the

fancy and the imagination, but of a character very strictly anal

ogous. Itwill be found, in fact, that the ingenious are always

fanciful, and the truly imaginative never otherwise than ana

lytic.
The narrative which follows will appear to the reader some
what a commentary upon the propositions just ad
in the light of

vanced.
Residing in Paris during the spring and part of the summer of
18 I there became acquainted with a Monsieur C. Auguste
,

Dupin. This young gentleman was of an excellent indeed of an

by a variety of untoward events, had been
illustrious family, but,
reduced to such poverty that the energy of his character suc
cumbed beneath it, and he ceased to bestir himself in the world,
or to care for the retrieval of his fortunes. By courtesy of his
creditors, there still remained in his possession a small remnant
of his patrimony and, upon the income arising from this, he
;

managed, by means of a rigorous economy, to procure the neces

saries of life, without troubling himself about its superfluities.

Books, indeed, were his sole luxuries, and in Paris these are
easily obtained.
Our first meeting was at an obscure library in the Rue Mont-
martre, where the accident of our both being in search of the
same very rare and very remarkable volume, brought us into
closercommunion. We
saw each other again and again. I was
deeply interested in the little family history which he detailed to
me with all that candor which a Frenchman indulges whenever
mere self is his theme. I was astonished, too, at the vast extent
of his reading ; and, above all, I felt my soul enkindled within
me by the wild fervor, and the vivid freshness of his imagination.
Seeking in Paris the objects I then sought, I felt that the society
120 FOE'S TALES.

of such a man would be to me a treasure beyond price ;

and this

feeling I frankly confided to him. It was

at length
arranged that
we should live together during my stay in the city ; and as
my
worldly circumstances were somewhat less embarrassed than his
own, I was permitted to be at the expense of renting, and furnish,
ing in a style which suited the rather fantastic gloom of our
common temper, a time-eaten and grotesque mansion, long de
serted through superstitions into which we did not inquire, and

tottering to its fall in a retired and desolate portion of the Fau

bourg St. Germain.
Had life at this place been known to the
the routine of our

world, we should have been regarded as madmen although, per

haps, as madmen of a harmless nature. Our seclusion was per
fect. We admitted no visitors. Indeed the locality of our re
tirement had been carefully kept a secret from my own former
associates ;
and it had been many years since Dupin had ceased
to know or be known in Paris. We existed within ourselves
alone.
It was a freak of fancy in my friend (for what else shall I call
it to be enamored of the Night for her own sake and into
?) ;

this bizarrerie, as into all his others, I quietly fell ; giving myself
up to his wild whims with a perfect abandon. The sable divinity
would not herself dwell with us always ; but we could counter
feit her presence. At the first dawn of the morning we closed
all themassy shutters of our old building lighting a couple of ;

tapers which, strongly perfumed, threw out only the ghastliest

and feeblest of rays. By the aid of these we then busied our
souls in dreams reading, writing, or conversing, until warned
by the clock of the advent of the true Darkness. Then we
sallied forth into the streets, arm in arm, continuing the topics of
the day, or roaming far and wide until a late hour, seeking, amid
the wild lights and shadows of the populous city, that infinity of
mental excitement which quiet observation can afford.
At such times I could not help remarking and admiring (al
though from his rich ideality I had been prepared to expect it)
a
peculiar analytic ability in Dupin. He seemed, too, to take an
eager delight in its exercise if not exactly in its display and
did not hesitate to confess the pleasure thus derived. He boasted
 THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE. 121

to me, with a low chuckling laugh, that most men, in respect to

himself, wore windows in their bosoms, and was wont to follow
up such assertions by direct and very startling proofs of his in
timate knowledge of my own. His manner at these moments
was frigid and abstract ; his eyes were vacant in expression ;
while his voice, usually a rich tenor, rose into a treble which
would have sounded petulantly but and en
for the deliberateness
tire distinctness of the enunciation. Observing hirn in these
moods, I often dwelt meditatively upon the old philosophy of the
Bi-Part Soul, and amused myself with the fancy of a double

Dupin the creative and the resolvent.

Let not be supposed, from what I have just said, that I am
it

detailing any mystery, or penning any romance. What I have

described in the Frenchman, was merely the result of an ex
cited, or perhaps of a diseased intelligence. But of the charac
ter of his remarks at the periods in question an example will best
convey the idea.
We were strolling one night down a long dirty street, in the
vicinity of the Palais Royal. Being both, apparently, occupied
with thought, neither of us had spoken a syllable for fifteen min
utes at least. All at once Dupin broke forth with these words:
" He
a very little fellow, that's true, and would do better
is for
the Theatre des Varietes"
" There can be no doubt of
that," I replied unwittingly, and
not at first observing (so much had I been absorbed in reflection)
the extraordinary manner in which the speaker had chimed in
with my meditations. In an instant afterward I recollected my
self, and my astonishment was profound.
" " this is
Dupin," said I, gravely, beyond my comprehension.
I do not hesitate to say that I am amazed, and can scarcely
credit my senses. How was it
possible you should know I was
thinking of ?'"' Here I paused, to ascertain beyond a
doubt whether he really knew of whom I thought.
" of "
Chantilly," said he, why do you pause ? You
were remarking to yourself that his diminutive figure unfitted
him for tragedy."
This was precisely what had formed the subject of my reflec
tions. Chantilly was a quondam cobbler of the Rue St. Denis,
122 POE'S TALES.

who, becoming stage-mad, had attempted the role of Xerxes, in

Crebillon's tragedy so called, and been notoriously Pasquinaded
for his pains.
" Tell " the method if
me, for Heaven's sake,"
I exclaimed,

method there is by which you have been enabled to fathom my

soul in this matter." In fact I was even more startled than I

would have been willing to express.
" was the who brought you "
It fruiterer," replied friend, my
to the conclusion that the mender of soles was not of sufficient

height for Xerxes et id genus omne."

" The fruiterer !
you astonish me I know no fruiterer whom-
soever."
" The man who ran up against you as we entered the street
it
may have been minutes ago."
fifteen
I now remembered that, in fact, a fruiterer, carrying upon his

head a large basket of apples, had nearly thrown me down, by

accident, as we passed from the Rue C into the thorough
fare where we stood ;
but what this had to do with Chantilly I
could not possibly understand.
There was not a particle of charlatanerie about Dupin. " I
will explain," he said, " and that you may comprehend all

clearly, we will first retrace the course of your meditations, from

the moment in which I spoke to you until that of the rencontre
with the fruiterer in question. The larger links of the chain run
thus Chantilly, Orion, Dr. Nichols, Epicurus, Stereotomy, the
street stones, the fruiterer."
There are few persons who have not, at some period of their
lives, amused themselves in retracing the steps by which particu
lar conclusions of their own minds have been attained. The oc
cupation is often full of interest and he who attempts it for the
;

first time is astonished by the apparently illimitable distance and

incoherence between the starting-point and the goal. What, then,

must have been my amazement when I heard the Frenchman
speak what he had just spoken, and when I could not help ac
knowledging that he had spoken the truth. He continued :

" We had been

talking of horses, if I remember aright, just
before leaving the Rue C This was the last subject we
.

discussed. As we crossed into this street, a fruiterer, with a

 THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE. 123

large basket upon his head, brushing quickly past us, thrust you
upon a pile of paving-stones collected at a spot where the cause
way is undergoing repair. You stepped upon one of the loose
fragments, slipped, slightly strained your ankle, appeared vexed
or sulky, muttered a few words, turned to look at the pile, and
then proceeded in silence. I was not particularly attentive to

what you did ; but observation has become with me, of late, a
species of necessity.
"You kept your eyes upon the ground glancing, with a petu
lant expression, at the holes and ruts
in the pavement, (so that I
saw you were still
thinking of the stones,) until we reached the
littlealley called Lamartine, which has been paved, by way of
experiment, with the overlapping and riveted blocks. Here your
countenance brightened up, and, perceiving your lips move, I
could not doubt that you murmured the word stereotomy,' a '

term very affectedly applied to this species of pavement. I knew

'
that you could not say to yourself stereotomy '
without being
brought to think of atomies, and thus of the theories of Epicurus ;
and since, when we discussed this
subject not very long ago, I
mentioned to you how singularly,
yet with how little notice, the
vague* guesses of that noble Greek had met with confirmation in
the late nebular cosmogony, I felt that you could not avoid cast

ing your eyes upward to the great nebula in Orion, and I cer
tainly expected that you would do so. You did look up ; and I
was now assured I had correctly followed your steps.
that But
in that bitter tirade upon Chantilly, which appeared in yester
Musee,' the satirist, making some disgraceful allusions
'
day's
to the cobbler's change of name upon assuming the buskin, quoted
a Latin line about which we have often conversed. I mean the
line

Perdidit antiquum litera prima sonum

I had told you that this was in reference to Orion, formerly writ
ten Urion ; and, from certain pungencies connected with this ex
planation, I was aware that you could not have forgotten it. It
was clear, therefore, that you would not fail to combine the two
ideas of Orion and Chantilly. That you did combine them I saw
by the character of the smile which passed over your lips. You
124 FOE'S TALES.

thought of the poor cobbler's immolation. So far, you had been

stooping in your gait j but now I saw you draw yourself up to
your full height. I was then sure that you reflected upon the
diminutive figure of Chantilly. At this point I interrupted your
meditations to remark that as, in fact, he was a very little fellow
that Chantilly he would do better at the Theatre des Va-
rietes."
Not long after this, we were looking over an evening edition
of the " Gazette des Tribunaux," when the following paragraphs
arrested our attention.
" EXTRAORDINARY MURDERS. This about three
morning,
o'clock, the inhabitants of the Quartier St. Roch were aroused
from sleep by a succession of terrific shrieks, issuing, apparently,
from the fourth story of a house in the Rue Morgue, known to be
in the sole occupancy of one Madame L'Espanaye, and her

daughter, Mademoiselle Camille L'Espanaye. After some delay,

occasioned by a fruitless attempt to procure admission in the
usual manner, the gateway was broken in with a crowbar, and

eight or ten of the neighbors entered, accompanied by two gen

darmes. By had ceased ; but, as the party
this time the cries

rushed up the first

flight two or more rough voices, in
of stairs,

angry contention, were distinguished, and seemed to proceed from

the upper part of the house. As the second landing was reached,
these sounds, also, had ceased, and everything remained perfectly

quiet. The party spread themselves, and hurried from room to

room. Upon arriving at a large back chamber in the fourth

story, (the door of which, being found locked, with the key in
side, was forced open,) a spectacle presented itself which struck

every one present not less with horror than with astonishment.
" The
apartment was in the wildest disorder the furniture
broken and thrown about in all directions. There was only one
bedstead ;
and from this the bed had been removed, and thrown
into the middle of the floor. On a chair lay a razor, besmeared
with blood. On were two or three long and thick tresses
the hearth
of grey human and seeming to have
hair, also dabbled in blood,
been pulled out by the roots. Upon the floor were found four
Napoleons, an ear-ring of topaz, three large silver spoons, three
smaller of metal d'Alger, and two bags, containing nearly four
 *
THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE. 125

thousand francs in gold. The drawers of a bureau, which stood

in one corner, were open, and had been, apparently, rifled, al

though many articles still remained in them. A small iron safe

was discovered under the bed (not under the bedstead). It was

open, with the key still in the door. It had no contents

beyond
a few old letters, and other papers of little consequence.
" Of Madame
L'Espanaye no traces were here seen ; but an
unusual quantity of soot being observed in the fire-place, a
search was made in the chimney, and (horrible to relate !) the
corpse of the daughter, head downward, was dragged therefrom ;
it
having been thus forced up the narrow aperture for a consider
able distance. The body was
quite warm. Upon examining
it, many were perceived, no doubt occasioned by the
excoriations
violence with which it had been thrust up and disengaged. Upon
the face were many severe scratches, and, upon the throat, dark

bruises, and deep indentations of finger nails, as if the deceased

had been throttled to death.
" After a
thorough investigation of every portion of the house,
without farther discovery, the party made its way into a small

paved yard in the rear of the building, where lay the corpse of
the old lady, with her throat so entirely cut that, upon an attempt
to raise her, the head fell off. The body, as well as the head, was

fearfully mutilated the former so much so as scarcely to retain

any semblance of humanity.

" To this horrible not as yet, we
mystery there is believe, the
slightest clew."
The
next day's paper had these additional particulars.
" The
Tragedy in the Rue Morgue. Many individuals have
been examined in relation to this most extraordinary and frightful
[The word has not yet, in France, that levity
i
affair." affaire'
" but
of import which it
conveys with us,] nothing whatever has
transpired to throw light upon it. We
give below all the mate-
rial testimony elicited.
"Pauline Dubourg, laundress, deposes that she has known
both the deceased for three years, having washed for them during
that period. The old lady and her daughter seemed on good
terms very affectionate towards each other. They were excel
lent pay. Could not speak in regard to their mode or means of
126 POE'S TALES.

living. Believed that Madame L. told fortunes for a living.

Was reputed to have money put by. Never met any persons 'in
the house when she called for the clothes or took them home.
Was sure that they had no servant in employ. There appeared
to be no furniture in any part of the building except in the fourth
story.
" Pierre
Moreau, tobacconist, deposes that he has been in the
habit of selling small quantities of tobacco and snuff to Madame

L'Espanaye for nearly four years. Was born in the neighbor

hood, and has always resided there. The deceased and her
daughter had occupied the house in which the corpses were found,
for more than six years. It was formerly occupied by a
jeweller,
who under-let the upner rooms to various persons. The house
was the property of Madame L. She became dissatisfied with
the abuse of the premises by her tenant, and moved into them
herself, refusing to let any portion. The old lady was childish.
Witness had seen the daughter some five or six times during the

six years. The two lived an exceedingly retired

life were reputed
to have money. Had heard it said among the neighbors that
Madame L. told fortunes did not believe it. Had never seen
any person enter the door except the old lady and her daugh
ter, a porter once or twice, and a physician some eight or ten
times.
"
Many other persons, neighbors, gave evidence to the same
effect. No one was spoken of as frequenting the house. It was
not known whether there were any living connexions of Madame
L. and her daughter. The shutters of the front windows were
seldom opened. Those in the rear were always closed, with the
exception of the large back room, fourth story. The house was
a good house not very old.
" Isidore
Muset, gendarme, deposes that he was called to the
house about three o'clock in the morning, and found some twenty
or thirty persons at the gateway, endeavoring to gain admittance.
Forced it open, at length, with a bayonet not with a crowbar.
Had but little difficulty in getting it open, on account of its being
a double or folding gate, and bolted neither at bottom nor top.
The shrieks were continued until the gate was forced and then
suddenly ceased. They seemed to be screams of some person
 THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE. 127

(or persons)
in great agony were loud and drawn out, not short
and quick. Witness led the way up stairs. Upon reaching the
first landing, heard two voices in loud and angry contention the
one a gruff voice, the other much shriller a very strange voice.
Could distinguish some words of the former, which was that of a
Frenchman. Was positive that it was not a woman's voice.
Could distinguish the words sacre' and '(Liable.' The shrill
'

voice was that of a foreigner. Could not be sure whether it was

the voice of a man or of a woman. Could not make out what
was said, but believed the language to be Spanish. The state of
the room and of the bodies was described by this witness as we
described them yesterday.
" Henri
Duval, a neighbor, and by trade a silver-smith, de
poses that he was one of the party
who first entered the house.
Corroborates the testimony of Muset in general. As soon as
forced an entrance, they reclosed the door, to keep out the
they
crowd, which collected very fast, notwithstanding the lateness of
the hour. The shrill voice, this was that of an
witness thinks,
Italian. Was certain it was Could not be sure that
not French.
it was a man's voice. It might have been a woman's. Was not
acquainted with the Italian language. Could not distinguish the
words, but was convinced by the intonation that the speaker was
an Italian. Knew Madame L. and her daughter. Had con
versed with both frequently. Was sure that the shrill voice was
not that of either of the deceased.
" This witness volunteered
Odenheimer, restaurateur.
his testimony. Not speaking French, was examined through an
interpreter. Is a native of Amsterdam. Was passing the house
at the time of the shrieks. They lasted for several minutes

probably ten. They were long and loud very awful and dis

tressing. Was one of those who

entered the building. Corrob
orated the previous evidence in every respect but one. Was sure
that the shrill voice was that of a man of a Frenchman. Could
not distinguish the words uttered. They were loud and quick
unequal spoken apparently in fear as well as in anger. The
voice was harsh not so much shrill as harsh. Could not call it
9
a shrill voice. The gruff voice said repeatedly
(
sacre,'
'
(liable,

and once '

mon DieuS
128 POE'S TALES.

" Jules
Mignaud, banker, of the firm of Mignaud et Fils,
Rue Deloraine. Is the elder Mignaud. Madame L'Espanaye
had some property. Had opened an account with his banking
house in the spring of the year (eight years previously).
Made frequent deposits in small sums. Had checked for nothing
until the third day before her death, when she took out in person
the sum of 4000 francs. This sum was paid in gold, and a
clerk sent home with the money.
"
Adolphe Le Bon, clerk to Mignaud et Fils, deposes that on the
day in question, about noon, he accompanied Madame L'Espanaye
to her residence with the 4000 francs, put up in two bags. Upon
the door being opened, Mademoiselle L. appeared and took from
his hands one of the bags, while the old lady relieved him of the
other. He then bowed and departed. Did not see any person
in the street at the time.It is a bye-street very lonely.
" William
Bird, tailor, deposes that he was one of the party
who entered the house. Is an Englishman. Has lived in Paris
two years. Was one of the first to ascend the stairs. Heard
the voices in contention. The gruff voice was that of a French
man. Could make out several words, but cannot now remember
all. Heard distinctly sacre? and mon Dieu.' There was a
' '

sound at the moment as if of several persons struggling a scra

ping and scuffling sound. The shrill voice was very loud louder
than the gruff one. Is sure that it was not the voice of an Eng
lishman. Appeared to be that of a German. Might have been
a woman's voice. Does not understand German.
" Four of the above-named
witnesses, being recalled, deposed
that the door of the chamber in which was found the body of
Mademoiselle L. was locked on the inside when the party reach
ed it. Every thing was perfectly silent no groans or noises of
any kind. Upon forcing the door no person was seen. The
windows, both of the back and front room, were down and firmly
fastened from within. A door between the two rooms was closed,
but not locked. The door leading from the front room into the
passage was locked, with the key on the inside. small room A
in the front of the house, on the fourth at the head of the
story,
passage, was open, the door being ajar. This room was crowded
with old beds, boxes, and so forth. These were carefully remov-
 THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE. 129

ed and searched. There was not an inch of any portion of the

house which was not carefully searched. Sweeps were sent up
and down the chimneys. The house was a four story one, with
garrets (inansardes.} A trap-door on the roof was nailed down
very securely did not appear to have been opened for years.
The time elapsing between the hearing of the voices in contention
and the breaking open of the room door, was variously stated by
Some made it as short as three minutes some as
the witnesses.
The door was opened with difficulty.
long as five.
" Gar do, undertaker, deposes that he resides in the
Alfonzo
Rue Morgue. Is a native of Spain. Was one of the party who
entered the house. Did not proceed up stairs. Is nervous, and
was apprehensive of the consequences of agitation. Heard the
voices in contention. The gruff voice was that of a Frenchman.
Could not distinguish what was said. The shrill voice was that
of an Englishman is sure of this. Does not understand the
English language, but judges by the intonation.
" Alberto
Montani, confectioner, deposes that he was among the
first to ascend the stairs. Heard the voices in question. The
gruff* voice was that of a Frenchman. Distinguished several
words. The speaker appeared to be expostulating. Could not
make out the words of the shrill voice. Spoke quick and une
venly. Thinks it the voice of a Russian. Corroborates the

general testimony. Is an Italian. Never conversed with a na

tive of Russia.
" Several
witnesses, recalled, here testified that the chimneys
of the rooms on the fourth story were too narrow to admit the
all

passage of a human being. By sweeps' were meant cylindrical

'

sweeping-brushes, such as are employed by those who clean

chimneys. These brushes were passed up and down every flue
in the house. There is no back passage by which any one could
have descended while the party proceeded up stairs. The body
of Mademoiselle L'Espanaye was so firmly wedged in the chim
ney that it could not be got down until four or five of the party
united their strength.
" Paul
Dumas, physician, deposes that he was called to view
the bodies about day-break. They were both then lying on the
sacking of the bedstead in the chamber where Mademoiselle L.
10
130 FOE'S TALES.

was found. The corpse of the young lady was much bruised
and excoriated. The fact that it had been thrust up the chimney
would sufficiently account for these appearances. The throat
was greatly chafed. There were several deep scratches just below
the chin, together with a series of livid spots which were evi.

dently the impression of fingers. The face was fearfully discol

ored, and the eye-balls protruded. The tongue had been partial
ly bitten through. A
large bruise was discovered upon the pit
of the stomach, produced, apparently, by the pressure of a knee.
In the opinion of M. Dumas, Mademoiselle L'Espanaye had been
throttled to death by some person or persons unknown. The
corpse of the mother was horribly mutilated. All the bones of
leg and arm were more or less shattered. The
the right left tibia

much splintered, as well

as all the ribs of the left side. Whole
body dreadfully bruised and discolored. It wasnot possible to

say how the injuries had been inflicted. A heavy club of wood,
or a broad bar of iron any large, heavy, and obtuse
a chair
would have such if wielded by the hands
weapon produced results,
of a very powerful man. No woman could have inflicted the
blows with any weapon. The head of the deceased, when afcen
by witness, was entirely separated from the body, and was also
greatly shattered. The throat had evidently been cut with some
very sharp instrument probably with a razor.
" Alexandre Dumas
Etienne, surgeon, was called with M. to
view the bodies. Corroborated the testimony, and the opinions
of M. Dumas.
"
Nothing farther of importance was elicited, although several
other persons were examined. A murder so mysterious, and so

perplexing in all its particulars, was never before committed in

Paris if indeed a murder has been committed at all. The po
lice are entirely at fault an unusual occurrence in affairs of this

nature. There however, the shadow of a clew apparent."

is not,

The evening edition of the paper stated that the greatest ex

citement still continued in the Quartier St. Roch that the prem
ises in question had been carefully re-searched, and fresh exam
inations of witnesses instituted, but all to no purpose. post A
script, however, mentioned that Adolphe Le Bon had been arrested
 THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE. 131

and imprisoned although nothing appeared to criminate him, be

yond the facts already detailed.
Dupin seemed singularly interested in the progress of this affair
at least so I judged from his manner, for he made no comments.
It was only after the announcement that Le Bon had been im

prisoned, that he asked me my opinion respecting the murders.

I could merely agree with all Paris in considering them an in
soluble mystery. I saw no means by which it would be possible
to trace the murderer.
" Wemust not judge of the means," said Dupin, " by this shell
of an examination. The Parisian police, so much extolled for
acumen, are cunning, but no more. There is no method in their
proceedings, beyond the method of the moment. They make a
vast parade of measures ; but, not unfrequently, these are so ill

adapted to the objects proposed, as to put us in mind of Monsieur

Jourdain's calling for his role-de-chambre pour mieux entendre
la musique. The results attained by them are not unfrequently
surprising, but, for the most part, are brought about by simple
diligence and activity. When these qualities are unavailing,
tKeir schemes Vidocq, for example, was a good guesser,
fail.

and a persevering man. But, without educated thought, he erred

continually by the very intensity of his investigations. He im
paired his vision by holding the object too close. He might see,
perhaps, one or two points with unusual clearness, but in so do
ing he, necessarily, lost sight of the matter as a whole. Thus
there such a thing as being too profound. Truth is not always
is

in a well. In fact, as regards the more important knowledge, I

do believe that she is invariably superficial. The depth lies in the
valleys where we seek her, and not upon the mountain-tops where
she is found. The modes and sources of this kind of error are
well typified in the contemplation of the heavenly bodies. To
look at a star by glances to view it in a side-long way, by turn

ing toward it the exterior portions of the retina (more susceptible

of feeble impressions of light than the interior), is to behold the
star distinctly is to have the best appreciation of its lustre a
lustre which grows dim just in proportion as we turn our vision

fully upon it. A greater number of rays actually fallupon the

eye in the latter case, but, in the former, there is the more refined
132 FOE'S TALES.

capacity for comprehension. By undue profundity we perplex

and enfeeble thought ; and it is possible to make even Venus her
self vanish from the firmament by a scrutiny too sustained, too

concentrated, or too direct.

" As for these some examinations
murders, let us enter into for

ourselves, before we make up an opinion respecting them. An

inquiry will afford us amusement," [I thought this an odd term,
so applied, but said nothing] " and, besides, Le Bon once ren
dered me a service for which I am not ungrateful. will go We
and see the premises with our own eyes. I know G ,
the
Prefect of Police, and shall have no difficulty in obtaining the ne

cessary permission."
The permission was obtained, and we proceeded at once to the
Rue Morgue. This is one of those miserable thoroughfares
which intervene between the Rue Richelieu and the Rue St.
Roch. It was late in the afternoon when we reached it ; as this
quarter is at a great distance from that in which we resided.
The house was readily found for there were still many persons
;

gazing up at the closed shutters, with an objectless curiosity, from

the opposite side of the way. It was an ordinary Parisian house,
with a gateway, on one side of which was a glazed watch-box,
with a sliding panel in the window, indicating a loge de concierge.
Before going in we walked up the street, turned down an alley,
and then, again turning, passed in the rear of the building Du-
pin, meanwhile, examining the whole neighborhood, as well as
the house, with a minuteness of attention for which I could see
no possible object.
Retracing our steps, we came again to the front of the dwell
ing, rang, and, having shown our credentials, were admitted by
the agents in charge. We
went up stairs into the chamber
where the body of Mademoiselle L'Espanaye had been found,
and where both the deceased still lay. The disorders of the room
had, as usual, been suffered to exist. I saw
nothing beyond what
had been stated in the " Gazette des Tribunaux." Dupin scru
tinized every thing not excepting the bodies of the victims. We
then went into the other rooms, and into the yard ; a gendarme
accompanying us throughout. The examination occupied us un
til dark, when we took our departure. On our way home my
 THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE. 133

companion stepped in for a moment at the office of one of the

daily papers.
I have said that the whims of my friend were manifold, and
that Je Us menagais : for this phrase there is no English equiv
alent. It was his humor, now, to decline all conversation on the

subject of the murder, until about noon the next day. He then
asked me, suddenly, if I had observed any thing peculiar at the
scene of the atrocity.
There was something in his manner of emphasizing the word
"
peculiar," which caused me to shudder, without knowing why.
" "
No, nothing peculiar," I said ; nothing more, at least, than
we both saw stated in the paper."
" The ' "
he replied, " has not entered, I fear, into
Gazette,'
the unusual horror of the thing. But dismiss the idle opinions of
this print. It appears to me that this mystery is considered in

soluble, for the very reason which should cause it to be regarded

as easy of solution I mean for the outre character of its features.

The police are confounded by the seeming absence of motive

not for the murder itself but for the atrocity of the murder.
They are puzzled, too, by the seeming impossibility of reconciling
the voices heard in contention, with the facts that no one was dis
covered up stairs but the assassinated Mademoiselle L'Espanaye,
and that there were no means of egress without the notice of the
party ascending. The wild disorder of the room j the corpse
thrust, with the head downward, up the chimney ; the frightful
mutilation of the body of the old lady ; these considerations, with
those just mentioned, and others which I need not mention, have
sufficed to paralyze the powers, by putting completely at fault the
boasted acumen, of the government agents. They have fallen
into the gross but common error of confounding the unusual with
the abstruse. But it is
by these deviations from the plane of the
ordinary, that reason feels its way, if at all, in its search for the
true. In investigations such as we are nowpursuing, it should
not be so much Loked l
what has occurred,' as ' what has oc
curred that lias never occurred before.' In fact, the facility with
which I shall arrive, or have arrived, at the solution of this mys
tery, is in the direct ratio of its apparent insolubility in the eyes
of the police."
134 POE'S TALES.

I stared at the speaker in mute astonishment.

" I am now
awaiting," continued he, looking toward the door
of our apartment " I am now
awaiting a person who, although
perhaps not the perpetrator of these butcheries, must have been
in some measure implicated in their perpetration. Of the worst
portion of the crimes committed, it is probable that he is innocent.
I hope that I am right in this supposition ; for
upon it I build my
expectation of reading the entire riddle. I man here
look for the
in this room every moment. It is true that he may not ar
rive but the probability is that he will.
; Should he come, it
will be necessary to detain him. Here are pistols ; and we both
know how to use them when occasion demands their use."
I took the pistols, scarcely
knowing what I did, or believing
what I
Dupin went on, very much as if in a solilo
heard, while
quy. I have already spoken of his abstract manner at such
times. His discourse was addressed to myself; but his voice,
although by no means loud, had that intonation which is com-
monly employed in speaking to some one at a great distance.
His eyes, vacant in expression, regarded only the wall.
" That the voices heard
in contention," he said, " by the party

upon the stairs, were not the voices of the women themselves, was
fully proved by the evidence. This relieves us of all doubt upon
the question whether the old lady could have first
destroyed the
daughter, and afterward have committed suicide. I speak of
this point chiefly for the sake of method; for the strength of
Madame L'Espanaye would have been utterly unequal to the
task of thrusting her daughter's corpse
up the chimney as it was
found ; and the nature of the wounds upon her own
person en
tirely preclude the idea of self-destruction. Murder, then, has
been committed by some third party ; and the voices of this third
party were those heard in contention. Let me now advert not
to thewhole testimony respecting these voices but to what was
peculiar in that testimony. Did you observe any thing peculiar
about it V
I remarked that, while all the witnesses agreed in
supposing
the gruff voice to be that of a Frenchman, there was much dis

agreement in regard to the shrill, or, as one individual termed it,

the harsh voice.
 THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE. 135

" That was the evidence " but was

itself," said Dupin, it not
the peculiarity of the evidence. You have observed nothing dis
tinctive. Yet there was something to be observed. The wit
nesses, asyou remark, agreed about the gruff voice ; they were
here unanimous. But in regard to the shrill voice, the peculiar
ity is not that they disagreed but that, while an Italian, an
Englishman, a Spaniard, a Hollander, and a Frenchman at
tempted to describe it, each one spoke of it as that of a foreigner.
Each is sure that it was not the voice of one of his own country
men. Each likens it not to the voice of an individual of any
nation with whose language he is conversant but the converse.
The Frenchman supposes it the voice of a Spaniard, and ' might
have distinguished some words had he been acquainted with the
Spanish.' The Dutchman maintains it to have been that of a
Frenchman but we find it stated that not understanding French
j
*

this witnesswas examined through an interpreter.' The Eng

lishman thinks it the voice of a German, and does not under '

stand German.' The Spaniard is sure' that it was that of an

c

' '
Englishman, but judges by the intonation' altogether, as he has
no knowledge of the English.' The Italian believes it the voice
of a Russian, but has never conversed with a native of Russia.'
*

A second Frenchman differs, moreover, with the first, and is posi

tive that the voice was that of an Italian ; but, not being cognizant
of that tongue, is, like the Spaniard, '
convinced by the intona
tion.' Now, how
strangely unusual must that voice have really
been, about which such testimony as this could have been elicit
ed !in whose tones, even, denizens of the five great divisions of

Europe could recognise nothing familiar You will say that it !

might have been the voice of an Asiatic of an African. Nei

ther Asiatics nor Africans abound in Paris ; but, without denying
the inference, I will now merely
call your attention to three

points. The voice termed by one witness harsh rather than

is
'

is represented by two others to have been quick and

*
shrill.' It

unequal.' No words no sounds resembling words were by

any witness mentioned as distinguishable.
" I know " what
not," continued Dupin, impression I may
have made, so far, upon your own understanding ; but I do not
hesitate to say that legitimate deductions even from this portion of
186 FOE'S TALES.

the testimony the portion respecting the gruff and shrill voices
are in themselves sufficient to engender a suspicion which
should give direction to all farther progress in the investigation of
legitimate deductions ;' but my meaning is
'
the mystery. I said

not thus fully expressed. I designed to imply that the deduc

tions are the sole proper ones, and that the suspicion arises inevi

tably from them as the single result. What the suspicion is,

however, I will not say just yet. 1 merely wish you to bear in
mind that, with myself, it was sufficiently forcible to give a defi
nite form a certain tendency to rny inquiries in the chamber.
" Let us now transport ourselves, in fancy, to this chamber.
What we first seek here ? The means of egress employed
shall

by the murderers. It is not too much to say that neither of us

believe in prseternatural events. Madame and Mademoiselle
L'Espanaye were not destroyed by spirits. The doers of the
deed were material, and escaped materially. Then how ? For
tunately, there is but one mode of reasoning upon the point, and
that mode must lead us to a definite decision. Let us examine,
each by each, the possible means of egress. It is clear that the
assassins were in the room where Mademoiselle L'Espanaye was
found, or at least in the room adjoining, when the party ascended
the stairs. It is then only from these two apartments that we

have to seek issues. The police have laid bare the floors, the
ceilings, and the masonry of the walls, in every direction. No
secret issues could have escaped their vigilance. But, not trust
ing to their eyes, I examined with my own. There were, then,
no secret issues. Both doors leading from the rooms into the pas
sage were securely locked, with the keys inside. Let us turn
to the chimneys. These, although of ordinary width for some

eight or ten feet above the hearths, will not admit, throughout
their extent, the body of a large cat. The impossibility of egress,
by means already stated, being thus absolute, we are reduced to
the windows. Through those of the front room no one could
have escaped without notice from the crowd in the street. The
murderers must have passed, then, through those of the back
room. Now, brought to this conclusion in so unequivocal a man
ner as we are, it is not our part, as reasoners, to reject it on ac-
 THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE. 137

count of apparent impossibilities. It is only left for us to prove

'
that these apparent impossibilities' are, in reality, not such.
" There are two windows in the chamber. One of them is un
obstructed by furniture, and is wholly visible. The lower por
tion of the other is hidden from view by the head of the unwieldy
bedstead which is thrust close up against it. The former was
found securely fastened from within. It resisted the utmost force
of those who endeavored to raise it. A large gimlet-hole had
been pierced in its frame to the left, and a very stout nail was
found fitted therein, nearly to the head. Upon examining the
other window, a similar nail was seen similarly fitted in it ; and
a vigorous attempt to raise this sash, failed also. The police
were now entirely satisfied that egress had not been in these
directions. And, therefore, it was thought a matter of superer
ogation to withdraw the nails and open the windows.
"
My own examination was somewhat more particular, and was
so for the reason I have just
given because here it was, I knew,
that all apparent impossibilities must be proved to be not such in

reality.
" The murderers did
proceeded to think thus a posteriori.
I

escape from one of these windows. This being so, they could
not have re-fastened the sashes from the inside, as they were
found fastened ; the consideration which put a stop, through its
obviousness, to the scrutiny of the police in this quarter. Yet
the sashes were fastened. They must, then, have the power of
fastening themselves. There was no escape from this conclusion.
I stepped to the unobstructed casement, withdrew the nail with

some difficulty, and attempted to raise the sash. It resisted all

my efforts,as I had anticipated. A concealed spring must, I now
knew, exist; and this corroboration of my idea convinced me
that my premises, at least, were correct, however mysterious still

appeared the circumstances attending the nails. A careful

search soon brought to light the hidden spring. I pressed it, and,

satisfied with the discovery, forbore to upraise the sash.

" I now
replaced the nail and regarded it attentively. per A
son passing out through this window might have reclosed it, and
the spring would have caught but the nail could not have been

replaced. The conclusion was plain, and again narrowed in the

138 POE'S TALES.

field of
my investigations. The assassins must have escaped

through the other window. Supposing, then, the springs upon

each sash to be the same, aswas probable, there must be found a
difference between the nails, or at least between the modes of
their fixture. Getting upon the sacking of the bedstead, I look
ed over the head-board minutely at the second casement. Pass
ing my hand down behind the board, I readily discovered and
pressed the spring, which was, as I had supposed, identical in
character with its neighbor. I now looked at the nail. It was

as stout as the other, and apparently fitted in the same manner

driven in nearly up to the head.
" You will
say that I was puzzled ; but, if you think so, you
must have misunderstood the nature of the inductions. To use a
'

sporting phrase, I had not been once at fault.' The scent had
never for an instant been lost. There was no flaw in any link
of the chain. I had traced the secret to its ultimate result, and
that result was the nail. Ithad, I say, in every respect, the ap
pearance of its fellow in the other window ; but this fact was an
absolute nullity (conclusive as it might seem to be) when com

pared with the consideration that here, at this point, terminated

the clew. '
There must be something wrong,' I said, about the '

nail.' I touched it; and the head, with about a quarter of an

inch of the shank, came off in my fingers. The rest of the
shank was in the gimlet-hole, where it had been broken off.
The fracture was an old one (for its edges were incrusted with
rust), and had apparently been accomplished by the blow of a
hammer, which had partially imbedded, in the top of the bottom
sash, the head portion of the nail. I now carefully replaced this

head portion in the indentation whence I had taken it, and the re
semblance to a perfect nail was complete the fissure was in

visible. Pressing the spring, I gently raised the sash for a few
inches; the head went up with it, remaining firm in its bed. I

closed the window, and the semblance of the whole nail was

again perfect.
" The was now unriddled. The assassin had
riddle, so far,

escaped through the window which looked upon the bed. Drop-
ing of its own accord upon his exit (or perhaps purposely closed),
it had become fastened by the spring ; and it was the retention of
 THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE. 139

this spring which had been mistaken by the police for that of the
nail, farther inquiry being thus considered unnecessary.
" The next
question is that of the mode of descent. Upon this
point had been satisfied in my walk with you around the build
I

ing. About five feet and a half from the casement in question
there runs a lightning-rod. From this rod it would have been
impossible for any one to reach the window itself, to say nothing
of entering it. I observed, however, that the shutters of the fourth
story were of the peculiar kind called by Parisian carpenters fer-
rades a kind rarely employed at the present day, but frequently
seen upon very old mansions at Lyons and Bourdeaux. They
are in the form of an ordinary door, (a single, not a folding door)

except that the lower half is latticed or worked in open trellis

1

thus affording an excellent hold for the hands. In the present

instance these shutters are fully three feet and a half broad.
When we saw them from the rear of the house, they were both
about half open that is to say, they stood off at right angles from
the wall. It is probable that the police, as well as myself, ex
amined the back of the tenement ; but, if so, in looking at these
ferrades in the line of their breadth (as they must have done),
they did not perceive this great breadth itself, or, at all events,
failed to take it into due consideration. In fact, having once
satisfiedthemselves that no egress could have been made in this
quarter, they would naturally bestow here a very cursory exami
nation. It was clear to me, however, that the shutter belonging

to the window at the head of the bed, would, if swung fully back
to the wall, reach to within two feet of the lightning-rod. It was

also evident that,by exertion of a very unusual degree of activity

and courage, an entrance into the window, from the rod, might
have been thus effected. By reaching to the distance of two feet
and a half (we now suppose the shutter open to its whole extent)
a robber might have taken a firm grasp upon the trellis- work.
Letting go, then, his hold upon the rod, placing his feet securely
against the wall, and springing boldly from it, he might hav^
swung the shutter so as to close it, and, if we imagine the window
open at the time, might even have swung himself into the room.
" I wish
you to bear especially in mind that I have spoken of
a very unusual degree of activity as requisite to success in so
140 FOE'S TALES.

hazardous and so difficult a feat. It is my design to show you,

first, have been accomplished
that the thing might possibly :

but, secondly and chiefly, I wish to impress upon your under

standing the very extraordinary the almost preternatural char
acter of that agility which could have accomplished it.
" You will
say, no doubt, using the language of the law, that
to make out my case,' I should rather undervalue, than insist
'

upon a full estimation of the. activity required in this matter.

This may be the practice in law, but it is not the usage of reason.
My ultimate object is only the truth. My immediate purpose is
to lead to place in juxta-position, that very unusual activity
you
of which have just spoken, with that very peculiar shrill (or
I

harsh) and unequal voice, about whose nationality no two persons

could be found to agree, and in whose utterance no syllabification
could be detected."
At vague and half-formed conception of the
these words a

meaning of Dupin flitted over my mind. I seemed to be

upon
the verge of comprehension, without power to comprehend as
men, at times, find themselves upon the brink of remembrance,
without being able, in the end, to remember. My friend went on
with his discourse.
" You will " that I have shifted the
see," he said, question from
the mode of egress to that of ingress. It was my design to con-

vey the idea that both were effected in the same manner, at the
same point. Let us now revert to the interior of the room. Let
us survey the appearances here. The drawers of the bureau, it
is said, had been rifled,
although many articles of apparel still re
mained within them. The conclusion here is absurd. It is a
mere guess a very silly one and no more. How are we to
know that the articles found in the drawers were not all these
drawers had originally contained ? Madame L'Espanaye and
her daughter lived an exceedingly retired life saw no company
seldom went out had little use for numerous changes of habil
iment. Those found were at least of as good quality as any
likely to be possessed by these ladies. If a thief had taken any,

why did he not take the best why did he not take all ? In a
word, why did he abandon four thousand francs in gold to encum
ber himself with a bundle of linen ? The gold was abandoned.
 THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE. 141

Nearly the whole sum mentioned by Monsieur Mignaud, the

banker, was discovered, in bags, upon the floor. I wish you,

therefore, to discard from your thoughts the blundering idea of

motive, engendered in the brains of the police by that portion of
the evidence which speaks of money delivered at the door of the
house. Coincidences ten times as remarkable as this (the de
livery of the money, and murder committed within three days
upon the party receiving it), happen to all of us every hour of
our lives, without attracting even momentary notice. Coinci
dences, in general, are great stumbling-blocks in the way of that
class of thinkers who have been educated to know nothing of the

theory of probabilities that theory to which the most glorious

objects ofhuman research are indebted for the most glorious of
illustration. In the present instance, had the gold been gone,
the fact of its delivery three days before would have formed
something more than a coincidence. It would have been corrob
orative of this idea of motive. But, under the real circumstances
of the case, if we are to suppose gold the motive of this outrage,
we must imagine the perpetrator so vacillating an
also idiot as to

have abandoned his gold and his motive together.

"
Keeping now steadilyin mind the points to which I have
drawn your that peculiar voice, that unusual agility,
attention
and that startling absence of motive in a murder so singularly
atrocious as this let us glance at the butchery itself. Here is
a woman strangled to death by manual strength, and thrust up a
chimney, head downward. Ordinary assassins employ no such
modes of murder as this. Least of all, do they thus dispose of
the murdered. In the manner of thrusting the corpse up the
chimney, you admit that there was something excessively
will
outre -something altogether irreconcilable with our common no
tions of human action, even when we suppose the actors the most

depraved of men. Think, too, how great must have been that
strength which could have thrust the body up such an aperture
so forcibly that the united vigor of several persons was found
barely sufficient to drag it down!
"
Turn, now, to other indications of the employment of a vigor
most marvellous. On the hearth were thick tresses very thick
tresses of grey human hair. These had been torn out by the
 142 POE'S TALES.

roots. You are aware of the great force necessary in tearing

thus from the head even twenty or thirty hairs together. You
saw the locks in question as well as myself. Their roots (a
hideous sight !) were clotted with fragments of the flesh of the
scalp sure token of the prodigious power which had been ex
erted in uprooting perhaps half a million of hairs at a time. The
throat of the old lady was not merely cut, but the head absolute

ly severed from the body : the instrument was a mere razor. I

wish you also to look at the brutal ferocity of these deeds. Of
the bruises upon the body of Madame L'Espanaye I do not speak.
Monsieur Dumas, and worthy coadjutor Monsieur Etienne, have
his

pronounced that they were inflicted by some obtuse instrument ;

and so far these gentlemen are very correct. The obtuse instru
ment was clearly the stone pavement in the yard, upon which the
victim had fallen from the window which looked in upon the bed.
This idea, however simple it may now seem, escaped the police
for the same reason that the breadth of the shutters escaped them
because, by the affair of the nails, their perceptions had been her
metically sealed against the possibility of the windows having
ever been opened at all.
" If
now, in addition to all these things, you have properly re
flected upon the odd disorder of the chamber, we have gone so
far as to combine the ideas of an agility astounding, a strength
superhuman, a ferocity brutal, a butchery without motive, a gro-
tesquerie in horror absolutely alien from humanity, and a voice
foreign in tone to the ears of men of many nations, and devoid
of all distinct or intelligible syllabification. What result, then,
has ensued ? What impression have I made upon your fancy ?"
I felta creeping of the flesh as Dupin asked me the question.
" A "
madman," I said, has done this deed some raving maniac,
escaped from a neighboring Maison de Sante"
" In some "
respects," he replied, your idea is not irrelevant.
But the voices of madmen, even in their wildest
paroxysms, are
never found to tally with that peculiar voice heard upon the
stairs. Madmen are of some nation, and their language, how.
ever incoherent in its words, has always the coherence of syllab
ification. Besides, the hair of a madman is not such as I now
hold in my hand. I disentangled this little tuft from the rigidly
 THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE. 143

clutched fingers of Madame L'Espanaye. Tell me what you

can make of it."
" " this hair
!"Dupin I said, completely unnerved ; is most
unusual this is no human hair."
"have not asserted that it is," said he ; " but, before we de
I

cide this point, I wish you to glance at the little sketch I have
here traced upon this paper. It is a fac-simile drawing of what

has been described in one portion of the testimony as dark '

bruises,and deep indentations of finger nails/ upon the throat of

Mademoiselle L'Espanaye, and in another, (by Messrs. Dumas
and Etienne,) as a series of livid spots, evidently the impression
'

of fingers.'
"
You will perceive," continued my friend, spreading out the
" that this
paper upon the table before us, drawing gives the idea
of a firm and fixed hold. There is no slipping apparent. Each
finger has retained possibly until the death of the victim the
fearful grasp by which it originally imbedded itself. Attempt,
now, place all your fingers, at the same time, in the respective
to

impressions as you see them."

I made
the attempt in vain.
" We
are possibly not giving this matter a fair trial," he said.
" The
paper is spread out upon a plane surface ; but the human
throat is cylindrical. Here is a billet of wood, the circumference
of which is about that of the throat. Wrap the drawing around
it, and try the experiment again."
I did so ;
but the difficulty was even more obvious than before.
" " is the mark of no human hand."
This," I said,
" Read " this
now," replied Dupin, passage from Cuvier."
It was a minute anatomical and generally descriptive account
of the large fulvous Ourang-Outang of the East Indian Islands.
The gigantic stature, the prodigious strength and activity, the
wild ferocity, and the imitative propensities of these mammalia*
are sufficiently well known to all. I understood the full horrors

of the murder at once.

" The description of the digits," said I, as I made an end of
" is in exact accordance with this 1 see that
reading, drawing.
no animal but an Ourang-Outang, of the species here mentioned,
could have impressed the indentations as you have traced them.
 144 FOE'S TALES.

This tuft of tawny hair, character with that of

too, is identical in
the beast of Cuvier. But
cannot possibly comprehend the par
I

ticulars of this frightful mystery. Besides, there were two voices

heard in contention, and one of them was unquestionably the
voice of a Frenchman."
"True; and you w ill remember an
r

expression attributed al
most unanimously, by the evidence, to this voice, the expression,
1
mon Dieu /' This, under the circumstances, has been justly
characterized by one of the witnesses (Montani, the confectioner,)
as an expression of remonstrance or expostulation. Upon these
two words, therefore, I have mainly built my hopes of a full so
lution of the riddle. A Frenchman was cognizant of the murder.
It is possible indeed it is far more than probable that he was
innocent of all participation in the bloody transactions which took

place. The Ourang-Outang may have escaped from him. He

may have traced it to the chamber ; but, under the agitating cir
cumstances which ensued, he could never have re-captured it.
It is still at large. I will not pursue these guesses for I have no

right to call them more since the shades of reflection upon

which they are based are scarcely of sufficient depth to be appre
ciable by my own intellect, and since I could not pretend to make
them intelligible to the understanding of another. We will call
them guesses then, and speak of them as such. If the French
man in question is indeed, as I suppose, innocent of this atrocity,
this advertisement, which I left last night, upon our return home,
at the office of '
Le Monde,' (a paper devoted to the shipping in
terest, and much sought by sailors,) will bring him to our resi
dence."
He handed me a paper, and I read thus :

CAUGHT In the Bois de Boulogne, early in the morning of

ithe inst., (the morning of the murder,) a very large, tawny

Ourang-Outang of the Bornese species. The owner, (who is as

to be a sailor,
certained belonging to a Maltese vessel,) may have
animal again, upon identifying it satisfactorily, and paying a
the

few charges arising from its capture and keeping. Call at No.
, Rue Faubourg St. Germain au troisieme.
,
 THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE. 145

" How was " that

it
possible," I asked, you should know the
man to be a sailor, and belonging to a Maltese vessel ?"
" I do not know it," said Dupin. " I am not sure of it. Here,
however, is a small piece of ribbon, which from its form, and from

its
greasy appearance, has evidently been used in tying the hair
in one of those long queues of which sailors are so fond. More
over, this knot is one which few besides sailors can tie, and is pe
culiar to the Maltese. I picked the ribbon up at the foot of the
It could not have belonged to either of the deceas
lightning-rod.
if, after all, I am Wrong
Now induction from this
ed. in my
ribbon, that the Frenchman was a sailor belonging to a Maltese
vessel, still I can have done no harm in saying what I did in the
advertisement. If I am in error, he will merely suppose that I
have been misled by some circumstance into which he will not
take the trouble to inquire. But if I am right, a great point is

gained. Cognizant although innocent of the murder, the French

man will naturally hesitate about replying to the advertisement
about demanding the Ourang-Outang. He will reason thus :

I am innocent ; I am poor ; my Ourang-Outang is of great value

*

to one in my circumstances a fortune of itself why should I

lose it
through idle apprehensions of danger ? Here it is, within
my grasp. It was found in the Bois de Boulogne at a vast dis
tance from the scene of that butchery. How can it ever be sus
pected that a brute beast should have done the deed ? The po
lice are at fault they have failed to procure the slightest clew.
Should they even trace the animal, it would be impossible to
prove me cognizant of the murder, or to implicate me in guilt on
account of that cognizance. Above all, / am known. The ad
vertiser designates me as the possessor of the beast. I am not

sure to what limit his knowledge may extend. Should I avoid

claiming a property of so great value, which it is known that I

possess, I will render the animal at least, liable to suspicion. It

is not my policy to attract attention either to myself or to the

beast. I will answer the advertisement, get the Ourang-Outang,
'
and keep it close until this matter has blown over.'
At this moment we heard a step upon the stairs.
" Be ready," said Dupin, " with your pistols, but neither use
them nor show them until at a signal from myself."
11
146 POE'S TALES.

The front door of the house had been left open, and the visiter
had entered, without ringing, and advanced several steps upon the
staircase. Now, however, he seemed to hesitate. Presently we
heard him descending. Dupin was moving quickly to the door,
when we again heard him coming up. He did not turn back a
second time, but stepped up with decision, and rapped at the door
of our chamber.
" Come
in," said Dupin, in a cheerful and hearty tone.
A man entered. He was a sailor, evidently, a tall, stout,
and muscular-looking person, with a certain dare-devil expression
of countenance, not altogether unprepossessing. His face, greatly
sunburnt, was more than half hidden by whisker and mustachio.
He had with him a huge oaken cudgel, but appeared to be other
wise unarmed. He bowed awkwardly, and bade us " good even
ing," in French accents, which, although somewhat Neufchatel-
ish, were still sufficiently indicative of a Parisian origin.
" I
"Sit down, my freind," said Dupin. suppose you have
called about the Ourang-Outang. Upon my word, I almost envy
you the possession of him; a remarkably fine, and no doubt a
very valuable animal. How old do you suppose him to be ?"
The sailor drew a long breath, with the air of a man relieved
of some intolerable burden, and then replied, in an assured tone :

" I have no
way of telling but he can't be more than four or
five years old. Have you got him here 1"
" Oh
no; we had no conveniences for keeping him here. He
is at a livery stable in the Rue Dubourg, just by. You can get
him in the morning. Of course you are prepared to identify the
property ?"
" To be sure I
am, sir."
" I shall be
sorry to part with him," said Dupin.
"I don't mean that you should be at all this trouble for no
man. "Couldn't expect it.
thing, sir," said the Am very will
ing to pay a reward for the finding of the animal that is to say,

any thing in reason."

"Well," replied my friend, "that is all very fair, to be sure.
Let me think! what should I have? Oh! I will tell you. My
reward shall be this. You shall give me all the information in
your power about these murders in the Rue Morgue."
 THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE. 147

Dupin said the last words in a very low tone, and

very qui
etly. Just as quietly, too, he walked toward the door, locked it,
and put the key in his pocket. He then drew a pistol from his
bosom and placed it, without the least flurry, upon the table.
The sailor's face flushed up as if he were struggling with suf
focation. He started to his feet and grasped his cudgel ; but the
next moment he fell back into his seat, trembling violently, and
with the countenance of death itself. He spoke not a word. I

pitied him from the bottom of my heart.

" "
friend," said Dupin, in a kind tone,
My you are alarming
yourself unnecessarily you are indeed. We mean you no
harm whatever. I pledge you the honor of a gentleman, and of
a Frenchman, that we intend you no injury. I perfectly well
know you are innocent of the atrocities in the Rue Morgue.
that
It will not do, however, todeny that you are in some measure
implicated in them. From what I have already said, you must
know that I have had means of information about this matter-
means of which you could never have dreamed. Now the thing
stands thus. You have done nothing which you could have
avoided nothing, certainly, which renders you culpable. You
were not even guilty of robbery, when you might have robbed
with impunity. You have nothing to conceal. You have no
reason for concealment. On the other hand, you are bound by
every principle of honor to confess all you know. An innocent
man is now imprisoned, charged with that crime of which you
can point out the perpetrator."
The sailor had recovered his presence of mind, in a great
measure, while Dupin uttered these words ; but his original bold
ness of bearing was all gone.
" So me God," said he, after a brief pause,
" I will tell
help
you all I know about this affair ;
but I do not expect you to be
lieve one half I say I would be a fool indeed if I did. Still, I

am innocent, and I will make a clean breast if I die for it."

What he stated was, in substance, this. He had lately made

a voyage to the Indian Archipelago. A party, of which he formed
one, landed at Borneo, and passed into the interior on an excur
sion of pleasure. Himself and a companion had captured the
Ourang-Outang. This companion dying, the animal fell into h'_
148 FOE'S TALES.

own exclusive possession. After great trouble, occasioned by the

intractable ferocity of his captive during the home voyage, he at

length succeeded in lodging it safely at his own residence in Paris,

where, not toward himself the unpleasant curiosity of
to attract

his neighbors, he kept it carefully secluded, until such time as

it should recover from a wound in the foot, received from a
splin
ter on board ship. His ultimate design was to sell it.
Returning home from some sailors' frolic on the night, or rather
in themorning of the murder^ he found the beast occupying his
own bed-room, into which it had broken from a closet adjoining,
where it had been, as was Razor in
thought, securely confined.
hand, and fully lathered, it was sitting before a looking-glass, at
tempting the operation of shaving, in which it had no doubt pre
viously watched its master through the key-hole of the closet.
Terrified at the sight of so dangerous a weapon in the possession
of an animal so ferocious, and so well able to use it, the man, for
some moments, was at a loss what to do. He had been accus
tomed, however, to quiet the creature, even in its fiercest moods,
by the use of a whip, and to this he now resorted. Upon sight
of it, the Ourang-Outang sprang at once through the door of the
chamber, down the stairs, and thence, through a window, unfor

tunately open, into the street.

The Frenchman followed in despair ; the ape, razor still in
hand, occasionally stopping to look back and gesticulate at its
pursuer, until the latter had nearly come up with it; It then

again made off. In this manner the chase continued for a long
time. The streets were profoundly quiet, as it was nearly three
o'clock in the morning. In passing down an alley in the rear of
the Rue Morgue, the fugitive's attention was arrested by a light

gleaming from the open window of Madame L'Espanaye's chamber,

in the fourth story of her house. Rushing to the building, it per
ceived the lightning-rod, clambered up with inconceivable agility,

grasped the shutter, which was thrown fully back against the wall,
and, by its means, swung itself directly upon the headboard of the
bed. The whole feat did not occupy a minute. The shutter was
kicked open again by the Ourang-Outang as it entered the room.
The sailor, in the meantime, was both rejoiced and perplexed.
He had strong hopes of now recapturing the brute, as it could
 THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE. 149

scarcely escape from the trap into which it had ventured, except
by the rod, where it might be intercepted as it came down. On
the other hand, there was much cause for anxiety as to what it

might do in the house. This latter reflection urged the man still
to follow the fugitive. A lightning-rod is ascended without diffi
culty, especially by a sailor ; but, when he had Arrived as high as
the window, which lay far to his left, his career was stopped ; the
most that he could accomplish was to reach over so as to obtain
a glimpse of the interior of the room. At this glimpse he nearly
fell from his hold through excess of horror. Now it was that
those hideous shrieks arose upon the night, which had startled
from slumber the inmates of the Rue Morgue. Madame L'Es-
panaye and her daughter, habited in their night clothes, had ap

parently been occupied in arranging some papers in the iron chest

already mentioned, which had been wheeled into the middle of
the room. It was open, and its contents lay beside it on the floor.

The victims must have been sitting with their backs toward the
window ; and, from the time elapsing between the ingress of the
beast and the screams, it seems probable that it was not immedi
ately perceived. The
flapping-to of the shutter would naturally
have been attributed to the wind.
As the sailor looked in, the gigantic animal had seized Ma
dame L'Espanaye by the hair, (which was loose, as she had been
combing it,) and was flourishing the razor about her face, in im
itation of the motions of a barber. The daughter lay prostrate
and motionless she had swooned. The screams and struggles
;

of the old lady (during which the hair was torn from her head)
had the effect of changing the probably pacific purposes of the
Ourang-Outang into those of wrath. With one determined sweep
of its muscular arm it nearly severed her head from her body.

The sight of blood inflamed its anger into phrenzy. Gnashing

its teeth, and flashing fire from its .eyes, it flew upon the body of
the girl, and imbedded its fearful talons in her throat, retaining
its
grasp until she expired. Jts wandering and wild glances fell

at this moment upon the head of the bed, oyer which the face of
itsmaster, rigid with horror, was just discernible. The fury of
the beast, who no doubt bore still in mind the dreade4 whip, was

instantly converted into fear. Conscious of having deserved pun.

150 FOE'S TALES.

it seemed desirous of
ishment, concealing its bloody deeds, and
skipped about the chamber in an agony of nervous agitation ;

throwing down and breaking the furniture as it moved, and

dragging the bed from the bedstead. In conclusion, it seized first
the corpse of the daughter, and thrust it up the chimney, as it
was found ; then that of the old lady, which it immediately
hurled through the window headlong.
As the ape approached the casement with its mutilated burden,
the sailor shrank aghast to the rod, and, rather gliding than clam

bering down it, hurried at once home dreading the consequences

of the butchery, and gladly abandoning, in his terror, all solicitude
about the fate of the Ourang-Outang. The words heard by the party
upon the staircase were the Frenchman's exclamations of horror
and affright, commingled with the fiendish jabberings of the brute.
I have scarcely
anything to add. The Ourang-Outang must
have escaped from the chamber, by the rod, just before the break
ing of the door. It must have closed the window as it
passed
through it. It was subsequently caught by the owner himself,
who obtained for it a very large sum at the Jardin des Plantes.
Le Bon was instantly released, upon our narration of the circum
stances (with some comments from Dupin) at the bureau of the
Prefect of Police. This functionary, however well disposed to
my friend, could not altogether conceal his chagrin at the turn
which affairs had taken, and was fain to indulge in a sarcasm or
two, about the propriety of every person minding his own business.
" Let him
talk," said Dupin, who had not thought it necessary
to reply. " Let him discourse it will ease his conscience.
; I

am satisfied with having defeated him in his own castle. Never

theless, that he failed in the solution of this mystery, is by no
means that matter for wonder which he supposes it ; for, in truth,
our friend the Prefect is somewhat too
cunning to be profound.
In his wisdom no stamen. It is all head and no body, like the
is

pictures of the Goddess Laverna, or, at best, all head and

shoulders, like a codfish. But he is a good creature after all.

I like him especially for one master stroke of cant, by which he

has attained his reputation for ingenuity. I mean the way he

has de nier ce qui est, et d'exptiquer ce quin'est pas.' "*
'

* Rousseau-^Nouvelle Heloise.