During the whole of a dull, dark, and resoundless day in the
Autumn of a year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the
Heavens, I had been passing alone on horseback through a singularly
Dreary tract of country, and at length found myself, as the shades
Of evening drew on, within view of the melancholy House of Usher
I know not how it was, but with the first glimpse of the building
A sense of insufferable gloom pervaded my spirit. I looked upon
The scene before me -- upon the mere house -- upon the bleak
Walls -- upon the vacant eye-like windows -- upon a few white
Trunks of decayed trees -- with an utter depression of soul
I finally forced myself to ride on to the house. The closer I got
The more abominable became this feeling of unutterable depression
A man took my horse, and I entered to be greeted by my old schoolmate
, Roderick Usher. I gazed upon him with a feeling half of pity, half
Of awe. Surely a man had never before so terribly altered in so brief
A period as had Roderick Usher. Finally, he spoke of the object of
My visit, for I had traveled far at his very earnest request to be
With him in his gloomy hereditary castle. He mentioned his earnest
Desire to see me, and of the solace he expected me to afford him
He entered at some length into what he conceived to be the nature of
His malady. It was, he said, a constitutional and a family evil
And one for which he despaired to find a remedy. It was a fear -- an
Uncontrollable fear -- an oppressive gloom which pervaded his soul
It was, I concluded, a form of hereditary melancholia, which was
Slowly driving him out of his senses. Moreover, to accentuate
The symptoms, was his avowed manner of living. He never at
Any time left the house, for some indefinable fear of the tarn
Or marsh which surrounded the castle. Moreover, he was grieved
With the long-continued illness and closely approaching death
Of a tenderly beloved sister, the Lady Madeline, his sole
Companion for long years, his last and only relative. Her death
Would leave him the last of the ancient race of the Ushers
For several days, I was busy in earnest endeavors to alleviate
The melancholy of my friend. We painted and read together
Or I listened, as if in a dream, to the wild improvisations
Of his squeaking guitar. I shall always remember the many
Solemn hours I spent trying to persuade him to return to a
Civilized world with me. But his fear -- his ungrounded, yet
Omnipresent fear -- held him tenaciously to the place of his birth
One morning, with an unnatural firmness, Roderick abruptly informed
Me that the Lady Madeline was no more -- that the strange disease
Had claimed her at last. Before I could state my profound sorrow at
This ghastly news, he stated his intention of preserving her corpse
For a fortnight, before the final burial, in one of the numerous
Vaults within the main walls of the building. So at his request
I personally aided in the arrangements for the temporary entombment
The body having been encoffined, we two alone bore it to its rest
The vault in which we placed it was small, damp. It was more of a
Dungeon than a vault -- a dungeon which had most likely seen many
Horrors in the past centuries. We opened the door -- a massive iron
Gate which was so immensely heavy that it caused an unusually
Sharp grating sound as it moved on its hinges. Once inside, we
Placed our mournful burden upon trestles, and partially turned
Aside the yet unscrewed lid of the coffin, looking upon the young
Face of the Lady Madeline. The disease had left the mockery of a
Faint blush upon the bosom and the face, and that suspiciously
Lingering smile upon the lip which is so terrible in
Death. We replaced the lid and closed the door of iron
We made our way with toil into the scarcely less
Gloomy apartments of the upper portion of the house
For the next week, Usher was strange. I saw him gazing upon
Vacancy for long hours in an attitude of the profoundest
Attention, as if listening to some imaginary sounds. It was
No wonder that his condition terrified, that it infected me
I felt creeping upon me, by slow yet uncertain degrees, the
Wild influences of his fantastic yet impressive superstitions
It was more than a week after we had placed the Lady Madeline within
The vault that he burst into my room late one night. He stared about
The room in silence for a moment, and then he abruptly turned to me
And he said, "You have not seen it! You have not seen it! Oh, but you
Shall! You shall!" And so speaking, he hurried to one of the windows
And threw it open to the storm. The fury of the entering gust nearly
Lifted us from our feet. A whirlwind had apparently centered around
The castle, blowing wildly, raising a tremendous noise. The clouds
Were exceedingly dense and low -- so low that they touched the
Turrets of the house. Yet in all of this, there was a light
Under the surfaces of the huge masses of vapor which swept around
Madly, was an unnatural light of a faintly luminous phosphorescence
Which paled everything in a ghastly unnatural yellow. It rose from
The stagnant swamp which surrounded the castle. I closed the window
And then I told Usher I would read to him from one of his favorite
Volumes. This I did, but as I read, Roderick sat in the chair
Beside me. He rocked from side to side with a gentle yet constant
And uniform sway, and as I read, I thought I heard strange scraping
Noises coming from the inner parts of the house. Becoming more
Unnerved, I leaped to my feet, but the measured rocking movement
Of Usher was undisturbed. But as I placed my hand upon his shoulder
There came a strong shudder over his whole body. A sickly smile
Quivered about his lips, and I saw that he spoke in a low, hurried
And gibbering murmur, as if unconscious of my presence. Bending
Closely over him, I understood the hideous import of his words
"Here it is. Hear the noise -- the noise from the vault below. Yes
I hear it and have heard it long, long, long -- many minutes, many
Hours, many days have I heard it. Yet I dared not -- I dared not
Speak. I tell you, old friend, we have put her in a living tomb."
"Roderick, what are you saying?"
"Yes, I have heard -- I heard them many, many days ago. Yet I dared
Not -- I dared not speak. Have you
Not heard the rending of her coffin?"
And the grating of the iron hinges of her prison
And her struggles within the archway of the vault
Roderick! Do you mean the Lady Madeline?
Yes, where shall I go? She will be here soon, soon, soon!
She'll scold me for my haste in burying her
She'll be here! Have I not heard her footsteps in the stair?
Do I not hear that heavy and horrible beating of her heart?
No! No! She is just outside the door! Just outside the door!
As if in the superhuman energy of his utterance
There had been found the potency of magic
The huge antique panels of the door swung slowly back
There was the Lady Madeline of Usher
There was blood upon her white robes
And the evidence of some bitter struggle
Upon every portion of her emaciated frame
For a moment, she remained trembling and reeling
To and fro upon the threshold
And then, with deliberate slow steps, she walked toward her brother
Who stood petrified with fear
Finally, with a low moaning cry, she fell heavily upon Roderick
And in her final death agonies, bore him to the floor
A corpse and a victim to the terrors he had anticipated
From that chamber of the dead and from the mansion, I ran
Ran with all my strength
The storm was blinding in its fury
I ran out over the old causeway, crossing the swamp
And as I did, I suddenly heard a tremendous shock
I turned to see what caused it
God in Heaven! The great building actually divided in two!
Something blinding burst in the center of the castle
And it came tumbling down, down, down!
The mighty walls burst into a million pieces
There was a long tumultuous shouting sound
Like the voice of a thousand waters
And the deep and dank tarn at my feet
Closed sullenly and silently
Over the fragments of the House of Usher