THE LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 EDGAR ALLAN POE 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM FEARING GILL 
 
 ILLUSTRATED. 
 
 FIFTH EDITION, REVISED AND ENLARGED. 
 
 NEW YORK : 
 
 W. J. WIDDLETON. 
 
 LONDON: ClIATTO AND WINDUS. 
 
 iS8o. 
 
9^'sp 
 ^^^ 
 
 Copyright, 1877. 
 By William F. Gill. 
 
INSCRIBED 
 
 TO 
 
 ANNE LYNCH BOTTA 
 
 THE FRIEND 
 
 OF 
 
 EDGAR ALLAN POE 
 
 224101 
 
PREFACE 
 
 For more than a quarter of a century, the American 
 public, while crowning with laurels the genius of 
 Edgar A. Poe, has lived on, indolently oblivious of 
 the true story of his life. 
 
 Carping criticism has gloated over the doubtful 
 record of follies and excesses ascribed to him by 
 malignant enemies like Griswold, while the man, as 
 he actually lived, is known only to the few. 
 
 But as truth gradually displaces falsehood, we shall 
 come to understand more correctly the true propor- 
 tions of that marred and broken individuality, that 
 nature so sensitively organized and so rarely devel- 
 oped, under circumstances so exceptionally perilous 
 and perverting. 
 
 Some years since, the attention of the writer of this 
 memoir was called to numerous inconsistencies appar- 
 ent in Dr. Rufus W. Griswold's memoir of Edgar 
 Allan Poe, and was induced to make inquiries that 
 evidenced that this memoir, which for twenty-five 
 
iv PREFACE. 
 
 years was permitted to stand as the representative biog- 
 raphy of the poet, was, to all intents and purposes, a 
 tissue of the most glaring falsehoods ever combined in 
 a similar work.* 
 
 It appeared, upon investigation, that Grisv^^old's 
 misrepresentations arose from the bitter enmity in 
 which this mediocre writer held Poe, on account of 
 the poet's slashing critique of his (Griswold's) 
 " Poets and Poetry of America." 
 
 It has been the aim of the writer to give an unparti- 
 san transcript of the life and character of Edgar Allan 
 Poe ; to be " to his faults a little kind," without 
 shrinking from the duty of a biographer, to recount 
 all facts that came within the scope of his province 
 to record. 
 
 Place has not been given to idle rumors, nor to the 
 unsubstantiated opinions of unreliable persons. 
 
 Dr. Griswold has been treated as a disagreeable 
 necessity. So long as the impression created by his 
 " memoir "exists, he cannot, injustice to the memory 
 of the poet, be ignored on the ground of his medioc- 
 rity as a w^riter. His shafts w^ere none the less pitiless, 
 although clothed in " poor fustian." Until another 
 quarter of a century has elapsed, it cannot be expected 
 
PREFACE, V 
 
 that the baleful work done by Griswold can be up- 
 rooted, for it has stood and thriven during the past 
 twenty-five years, and, upon many jDcrsons now liv- 
 ing, has created an impression that will endure while 
 life endures. To the new generation of readers, with 
 whom the lamented poet is finding a favor denied him 
 at the hands of his contemporaries, this memoir may 
 best fulfil its purpose of pleading the cause of a man 
 of genius, condemned unheard. 
 
 It may also serve to answer the complaint of an 
 English writer, that " no trustworthy biography of 
 Poe has yet appeared in his own country." 
 
 It has been the design of the writer to include in 
 this work everything of importance that has been 
 written or related of Poe, so far as accessible and 
 reliable. 
 
 It has been our good fortune to be brought into 
 relations of near friendship with several of the most 
 intimate friends and companions of the poet ; and in 
 many cases, we speak, literally, " out of their own 
 mouths," more significantly, without doubt, than if 
 we had had the temerity to assume more independent 
 views. Our especial acknowledgments, for valuable 
 assistance rendered, are due to Mrs. S. H. Whitman, 
 
VI 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Mr. Neilsoii Poe, Mr. William A. Poe, George R. 
 Graham, Mrs. Annie L. Richmond, I\Irs. Susan 
 Archer Weiss, Mr. R. H. Stoddard, Dr. R. Shelton 
 Mackenzie, and the late Mrs. Maria Clemm, and 
 Mr. T. C. Clarke. 
 
 The portrait given is from a daguerrotype taken 
 from life. It represents the po.et in his later years, 
 and by several of his most intimate friends is pro- 
 nounced the best portrait extant. 
 
 WILLIAM F. GILL. 
 
 * Since 1S76 the Griswold memoir has been superseded in the 
 various editions of Poe's writings by other, and later ones, giving 
 fairer and truer estimates of the poet's life and character. 
 
PEEFAOE 
 
 TO THE FIFTH EDITION. 
 
 The reception accorded to this work has conclu- 
 sively shown that the writer's purpose in attempting 
 a new and complete biography of Edgar Allan Poe 
 has been accomplished to the satisfaction of those 
 whose esteem is to be most highly prized. A few 
 writers who see, not with the eyes, but with their 
 prejudices, have vainl}^ endeavored to break down 
 by groundless theories, joined with the mouldered 
 relics of long-buried and fictitious scandals, the evi- 
 dence brought forward to sustain the author's estimate 
 of his subject. 
 
 It is significant that not so much as a single scrap 
 of proof, has been produced in support of these adverse 
 and ill-tempered speculations. 
 
 The principal objections made by writers whose 
 prejudices forbade their acceptance of an impartial 
 estimate of the true character of my subject, has been, 
 that I have allowed myself to be led into an unjusti- 
 fiable condemnation of Rufus \V. Griswold. It may 
 be fairly urged in answer to such charges, that the pre- 
 facing of an author's works by a mendacious memoir, 
 written by a bitter and unscrupulous enemy, is a 
 
Vlll PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION. 
 
 remarkable phenomenon, without a parallel in liter- 
 ary history. So exceptional an issue demanded to be 
 exceptionally met. No complete and faithful biogra- 
 phy of Poe could adequately fulfil its purpose, without 
 carefully and fully probing a matter fraught with such 
 vital importance to the public's estimate of the true 
 character of the poet. 
 
 I am convinced, therefore, that a fair judgment of 
 the controversial element in my biography, will con- 
 cede thiit the trzte story of Poe's life could not well 
 have been told without special and pointed references 
 to the Griswold memoir. If sometimes I have " cut 
 beyond the wound, to make the cure complete," it 
 must be remembered that the Griswold difficulty is 
 of long standing, and has never, previously, been 
 thoroughly dealt with. 
 
 I have endeavored to meet the misstatements of Dr. 
 Griswold by a chain of incontrovertible evidence of 
 facts that would be accepted as conclusive. But, as 
 there possibly exists in the minds of some well-dis- 
 posed persons a shadow of a doubt as to the deliberate 
 malice which the original biographer of Poe brought 
 to his preparation of his memoir of the poet, I have 
 in the Notes following the Appendix included Poe's 
 scathing critique of Griswold's " Poets and Poetry of 
 America," that the relation between cause and effect 
 may be indubitably shown. 
 
 Mantled by the cloak of impersonality under which 
 
PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION. IX 
 
 Poe wrote his editorials in The Saturday Museum, it 
 is free in utterance, and evidences the poet's con- 
 sciousness of his own critical attainments. 
 
 This criticism, which Griswold excluded from his 
 collection of Poe's works, has never been printed in 
 any of the editions of them. 
 
 Aside from the lighf> which it throws upon the 
 source of the enmity of Griswold, it is peculiarly 
 interesting from the estimate which it gives of poets 
 and authors who have attained eminence, as well as 
 of many writers who have passed into oblivion. 
 Other notes have been added connected with the 
 poet's history, not included in the first edition. The 
 scandal of the borrowing of money by the poet of a 
 South Carolina lady, and his alleged conduct in re- 
 gard to acknowledging it, and that of his selling the 
 poem, " Annabel Lee," to three different magazines, 
 are, at last, met here, and effectually controverted. 
 
 These revisions and additions, with others made 
 in the work, have, it is hoped, enhanced its interest, 
 and rendered it more valuable to all who are attract- 
 ed by the sad and romantic history of the author of 
 "The Raven." 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ANCESTRY. 
 
 The Origin of the Family Name, Italian — FouncUnt; of the Race In Ireland- 
 Family Feud with the Desmonds — Dispersion of the Families by Cromwell — 
 Heroic Defence of Don Isle— The Powers and Lady Blessington — Grneral 
 David Foe — The Poet Counsellor — The Ballad of " Gramachree '(,— David 
 Poe, Jr., and his Rimaway Match— Poe's Actress Mother — Convivial South- 
 ern Customs and their Consequences — Place of Poe's Birth — Death of Poe's 
 Parents g-20 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 CHILDHOOD. 1809-1826. 
 Birth of the Poet — Early Beauty and Fascination — Poe's Foster Father — 
 Precocious Predilection for the Muses — At School in England— Stoke New- 
 ington and Rev. Dr. Bransby — At School in Richmond— First Ideal Love — 
 Death of Helen Stannard — First Volume of Juvenile Poems — At the Univer- 
 sity of Virginia — Testimony of the Faculty of the University — Morbid and 
 Sensitive Temperament — Athletic Achievements 21-39 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 EARLY HARDSHIPS. 1826-1834. 
 
 Home from School — First Quarrel with Mr. Allan — First Meeting with Virginia 
 Clemm — A Second Edition of Juvenile Poems — A Griswold Fabrication dis- 
 proved — William Henrv Leonard Poe — Poe and the Milford Bard — An 
 Amusing Poetic Duel — Poe at West Point — A Third Edition of Poems — The 
 True Story of Poe's Dismissal from West Point — Another Quarrel with Mr. 
 Allan — Seconfl Marriage of Mr. Allan — Poe at l\Irs. Clemm's — A Lie re- 
 futed — The Baltimore Prizes — Mr. J. H. B. Latrobe's Account — Poe and 
 Hewitt — Pen Photograph of the Poet at 24 Years — "Adventures of Hans 
 Pfaal" — The Heir Expectant left Penniless 40-70 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 BEGINNING A LITERARY CAREER. 1834-T838. 
 
 First Contributions to Periodicals — Engagement with the "Southern Literary 
 Messenger" — Griswold's Pettiness — Critical Reviews — J. K. Paulding's 
 Encomiums — Marriage with his Cousin, Virginia Clemm — Melancholy in 
 Solitude — Susceptibility to Drink — Innocence of Motive — Withdrawal from 
 the "Messenger" — Engagement on the " New York Quarterly Review " — 
 Mr. Williani Gowans' Reviews — A Notable Review — First Prose Book, 
 " Arthur Gordon Pym " — Its Success in England 71-87 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 VARIED EXPERIENCES IN PHILADELPHIA. 1838-1844. 
 
 Removal to Philadelphia — Engagement as Editor of the "Gentleman's Maga- 
 zine" — "Ligeia" — Inspiration of Visions — Ihe Fall of the House of 
 Usher — The Haunted Palace — Griswold's Charges of Plagiarism — The 
 Manual of Conchology — Professor Wyatt's Refutation — First Collection of 
 Tales — An Audacious Griswold Invention — C. Alexander's Letter — The 
 "Gentleman's " merged in "Graham's " — Brighter Days — Pen Pictures of 
 
 xi 
 
xii CONTENTS. 
 
 the Poet's Home — Virginia's Simplicity — A Pleasing Incident — The ^fur 
 ders in the Rue Morgue — First Introduction to the French Public — An Ab- 
 surd Controversy — iiaudelaire on Griswold — The Barnaby Rudge Analysis — 
 The Mystery of Marie Roget— The Purloined Letter— Notable Papers on 
 Autociraphy and Cryptology — Withdrawal from "Graham's" — Griswold'a 
 Confusion of Facts, and its Cause — George R. Graham's Statement — A 
 Pertinent Anecdote— The Dream of Poe's Life —The " Stylus "—First Ap- 
 pearance on the Rostrum at Baltimore — First Lecture in Philadelphia. 8S-127 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 CAREER IN NEW YORK. 1844-I846. 
 
 On "The Saturday Museum" — Engagement on the "Mirror" — Testimony 
 of the Poet Will'is— First Anonymous Publication of "The Raven" — The 
 Authorship revealed by Poe's Recitation at a Soiree — Mrs. Browning's Com- 
 mendation — Conflicting Opinions as to its Origin — Gilfillan's Malevolent 
 Recklessness— The Americans of a Quarter of a Century Ago— Poe's In- 
 tentional Concealment of Motive — Personal Romances — Testimony of Inti- 
 mate Personal Friends — Discrepancy of the Poet's Reading of "The Raven " 
 with his Printed Analysis of it— Origin of Imaginative Compositions — Anec- 
 dote of Beethoven — The Clue to "The Raven " —Analysis of "The Raven" 
 
 — Where "The Raven" was written — Mrs. Brennan's Reminiscences — The 
 "Raven" Room — Insufficient Revenue of the Poet— Price paid for "The 
 Raven" — J. R. Lowell's Criticism— Lecture in Boston — The Poet's Mis- 
 chievous Propensity — Griswold's Ridiculous Charges — Reply to Boston 
 Criticisms — E. P. Whipple's Testimony — The Poet's Social Life — Charac- 
 ter of Intellect— Conversational Powers— Mrs. Osgood's Impressions — 
 Failure with "The Broadway Jounial " — "Literati" Papers — The Dunn- 
 English Quarrel — The Garbling of Poe's Work by Griswold. . . . 128-179 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 LAST YEARS. 1846-1849. 
 
 Removal to Fordliam — Reminiscences of Fordham and its Inmates, by a Con- 
 temporary of the Poet — Sickness and Poverty — A Public Appeal— Gris- 
 wold's Malevolent Animus— Sympathy of Willis— Reply of the Poet- 
 Death of Virginia — Fordham in 1847— " Ulahime " —The Poet's Psychal 
 Atmosphere— Lecture on "The Universe " — Letter to Willis— "Eureka" 
 
 — Theory of Deitv — Visit to Lowell — "The Bells "—Alteration irnm tlie 
 Original' MS. — Some Suggestive Recollections- First Meeting with Mrs. 
 Wlntman — An Important Letter — An Ideal Home — Breakii^g of the Engage- 
 ment— Griswold's Gross Misrepresentation — Reply of W. J. Pabodie — 
 Letter from Mrs. Whitman— The Poet leaves Fordham — A Last Ei.'ort to 
 establish "The Stylus " — At Richmond again — Return to the "Literary 
 Messenger " — Anecdote of Annabel Lee, by J. P. Thompson -»Last Visit to 
 Philadelphia — Engagement with Mrs. Sheltcn — The Unlortunfrte Trip North 
 
 — The Misfortunes "in Baltimore — Death at Baltimore — A Retrospective 
 Glance iSo-244 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 How Griswold secured Poe's Papeis — Ephemcrnl Vindications of the Poet — 
 Geor"-e R. Graham's Noble Tribute — Mrs. Whitmnn's Memoir — Some Un- 
 published Collections— The Edinburgh Memoir — Fairfield's Absurd Article 
 in " Scribner " — Memoirs of Stoddard, Didier, and Memorial by RLss Rice — 
 Extraordinary Catastrophe to the Original Monument to Poe — The Monu- 
 ment erected'November 17, 1S75, in Baltimore — The Dedicatory Exercises- 
 Addresses — Letters from Distinguished People — Notes 245-3'S 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I. Portrait ........ Fiont. 
 
 a-^TI. Poe's Cottage at Fordham . . . Front. 
 
 ^^^il'. Poe's School and Playground at Stoke- 
 
 Newington 28 
 
 IV. Rev. Dr. Bransby, Poe's English School- 
 master 30 
 
 V. Residence ok Mr. John Allan, Richmond, 
 
 Virginia 34 
 
 VI. The University of Virginia, at Char- 
 lottesville, Virginia .... 34 
 Vir. Fac-Simile of Letter from Edgar A. 
 PoE to Washington Poe, announcing 
 
 "The Stylus" 114 
 
 VIT[. '-The Stylus" (from the original Design by 
 
 Poe) 115 
 
 IX. Fac-Simile of Contract made with F. O. 
 
 C. Darley, Esc^, January 31, 1S43 . 118 
 X. Fac-Simile of Letter to T. C. Clarke, 
 
 EsQj, March ii, 1S43 .... 120 
 XI. Fac-Simile of Letter from N. P. Willis 131 
 XII. Fac-Simile of Letter from George R. 
 
 Graham . 137 
 
 xiii 
 
xlv LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 XIII. The House where " The Raven " was 
 
 WRITTEN 148 
 
 XIV. The Room where " The Raven " was 
 
 WRITTEN 148 
 
 XV. Fac-Simile of Letter from Mrs. Susan 
 
 Archer Weiss 151 
 
 XVI. Portrait of INIaria Clemm ... 182 
 XVII. Fac-Simile of the Original MS. of 
 
 "The Bells" 207 
 
 XVIII. Fac-Simile of Letter to Mrs. S. H. 
 
 Whitman . . . . . . 218 
 
 XIX. Fac-Simile of Letter from Mrs. S. H. 
 
 Whitman , . 228 
 
 XX. Fac-Simile of Letter from INIrs. Maria 
 
 Clemm 246 
 
 XXI. The Poe TsIonument, erected in Balti- 
 more, November, 1875 .... 312 
 
•^'^^^i "V'tK 
 
 yrir.' f i.'h -"V-. / 
 
 X 
 
 
 mmi, 
 
 
 \ 
 
 
 Poe's Cottage at Fordham. with Vignettes suggested by his Works. 
 
THE I. I r E 
 
 OF 
 
 EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ANCESTRY. 
 
 The Origin of the Family Name, Italian — Founding of the 
 Race in Ireland — Family Feud with the Desmonds —Dis- 
 persion of the Families by Cromwell — Heroic Defence of 
 Don Isle — The Powers and Lady Blessington — General 
 David Poe — The Poet Counsellor — The Ballad of "Gra- 
 machree" — David Poe, Jr., and his Runaway Match — 
 Poe's Actress Mother — Convivial Southern Customs and 
 their Consequences — Place of Poe's Birth —Death of Poe's 
 Parents. 
 
 ^. 
 
 
 HE name Poe is an old Italian name, 
 and the minutest genealogical research 
 finds it antedating the river Po, which, 
 it is presumed, followed the original spelling of 
 the princely family from which it was named. 
 The family, like that of the Geraldines, and other 
 Anglo-Norman settlers in Ireland, passed from 
 Italy into the north of France, and from France, 
 through England and Wales, into Ireland, where, 
 from their isolated position and other causes, they 
 retained for a long period their hereditary traits, 
 with far less modification, from intermarriage and 
 
 (9) 
 
^la^'' '^' ' ' IlIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 
 
 consociation with other races, than did their Eng- 
 lish compeers. 
 
 Meantime, the name underwent various changes 
 in accent and orthograph}'. 
 
 We find descendants of the parent family rooted 
 in Ireland as far back as 1327, the name in its 
 Gallic form being spelled le Poer. 
 
 The disastrous civil war at this period, in which 
 all the great barons of the country were involved, 
 was occasioned by a personal feud between Ar- 
 nold le Poer and Maurice of Desmond, the for- 
 mer having offended the dignity of the Desmond 
 by calling him a rhymer. 
 
 We can well imagine that, sprung from a race 
 to which the improvisation of poetry is a second 
 nature, the sensitive ear of the le Poer could ill 
 brook the ruder sonof of the untutored Celt. 
 
 Readers of the life of our poet will p-obably 
 be impressed with the curious coincidence pre- 
 sented in his life-long battle with less cultured 
 adversaries, with this contest of his Norman an- 
 cestor and his less gifted opponent. But the 
 constitutional characteristics of the le Poers were 
 at all times apparently distinguished by these 
 marked combative elements, and as Mrs. Whit- 
 
ANCESTRT. 1 1 
 
 man remarks, in her admirable exposition of the 
 literary career of Poe, "the possible influence, on 
 a character so anomalous as that of Edgar Poe, 
 of the mental and constitutional peculiarities of 
 his ancestors, are certainly worthy of note." 
 
 During the reign of Henry II. of England, we 
 find Sir Roger le Poer in Ireland, as Marshal to 
 Prince John. Here he became the founder of a 
 race connected with some of the most romantic 
 and chivalrous incidents of Irish history. 
 
 The heroic daring of Arnold le Poer, Seneschal 
 of Kilkenny Castle, who, v/e gather from Mrs. 
 Whitman, interposed, at the ultimate sacrifice of 
 his liberty and his life, to save a noble lady from 
 an ecclesiastical trial for witchcraft, the first ever 
 instituted in the kingdom, was chronicled by 
 Geraldus Cambrensis, and has been commemo- 
 rated by recent historians. 
 
 A transcript of the story, as told by Geraldus, 
 may be found in Ennemoser's "Magic," and in 
 White's " History of Sorcery." 
 
 The characteristics of the le Poers were marked 
 and distinctive. 
 
 They were improvident, adventurous, and reck- 
 lessly brave. They were deeply involved in the 
 
12 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOB. 
 
 Irish troubles of 1641 ; and when Cromwell in- 
 vaded Ireland, he pursued them with a special 
 and relentless animosity. 
 
 Their families were dispersed, their estates 
 ravaged, and their lands forfeited. 
 
 Of the three leading branches of the family at 
 the time of Cromwell's invasion, Kilmaedon, Don 
 Isle, and Curraghmore, only the last escaped his 
 vengeance. The present representative of Cur- 
 raghmore is the Marquis of Waterford. 
 
 Cromwell's siege of the sea-girt castle and fort- 
 ress of Don Isle, which was heroically defended 
 by a female descendant of Nicholas le Poer, 
 Baron of Don Isle, is, as represented by Sir Ber- 
 nard Burke in his "Romance of the Aristocrac}^" 
 full of legendary interest. The domain of Pow- 
 erscourt took its name from the le Poers, and 
 was for centuries in the possession of the family. 
 
 Lady Blessington, through her father, Edmond 
 Power, claimed descent from the same old Nor- 
 man family.* 
 
 A few branches of the family in Ireland still 
 bore the old Italian name De la Poe, which, 
 naturally, in its Anglicized form, became Poe. 
 
 * Illustrated London News, June 9, 1849. 
 
ANCESTRY 13 
 
 John Poe, the great-grandfather of Edgar 
 Allan Poe, married a daughter of Admiral 
 McBride, distinguished for his naval achieve* 
 ments, and connected with some of the most 
 illustrious families of England. 
 
 From genealogical records transmitted by him 
 to his son David Poe, the grandfather of the poet, 
 who was but two years of age when his parents 
 left Ireland, it appears that different modes of 
 spelling the name w^ere adopted by different 
 members of the same family. 
 
 David Poe was accustomed to speak of the 
 Chevalier le Poer, a f\-iend of the Marquis de 
 Grammont, as having been of his father's family. 
 
 The grandfather of our poet was an officer in 
 the Maryland line during the war of the Revolu- 
 tion, and an intimate friend of General LaFayette. 
 
 General Poe was, in the true sense of the word, 
 a patriot. To furnish provisions, forage and cloth- 
 ing to the destitute government troops, he stripped 
 huiiself of his entire patrimony. For this, he 
 never instituted a claim, nor for services rendered 
 to the United States as an officer ; but for actual 
 money loaned, he claimed forty thousand dollars. 
 Owincf to technical informalities in the vouchers 
 
14 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 (which consisted principally of letters from 
 Washington and LaFajxtte), he received no por- 
 tion of the sum. The Marjdand legislature, 
 however, subsequently allowed his widow a pen- 
 sion, and, in the preamble of the act, expressed 
 their satisfaction of the equity of the claim, while 
 they deplored the /r^-^/ insufficiency of the proofs 
 to support it. General Poe was one of the most 
 intimate personal friends of LaFayette, wdio, dur- 
 ing his memorable visit to America in 1824, 
 called upon the widow, publicly acknowledged 
 the obligations of the country to her husband, ex- 
 pressed his astonishment at finding lier in com- 
 parative indigence, and evinced his strong indig- 
 nation at the narrow-minded policy of the govern- 
 ment. We gather a few particulars of this 
 interview from the late "Baltimore Gazette," and 
 other papers of the time : " General LaFayette 
 afiectionately embraced Mrs. Poe, exclaiming at 
 the same time, in tears, ^ The last time I embraced 
 you, madame, 3^ou w^ere younger and more 
 blooming than now.' He visited, wdth his staff, 
 the grave of General Poe, in 'the First Presby- 
 terian Church-3^ard,' and kneeling on the ground, 
 kissed the sod above him, and, weeping, ex- 
 
ANCESTRY. 15 
 
 claimed, ^ Ici repose un cccur noble !^ — here lies 
 a noble heart ! — a just tribute to the memory of 
 a good, if not a great, man." 
 
 A relative of David Poe, belonging to the Irish 
 branch, although a lavv^yer by profession, was, 
 like his now famous descendant, possessed of the 
 divine afflatus, and one of his ballads so fasci- 
 nated Robert Burns, the Scottish poet, that he 
 included it in a collection of vScottish songs and 
 ballads, ancient and modern, which, with anec- 
 dotes of their authors, says Cunningham, exists in 
 the handwriting of Burns in an interleaved copy 
 of the first four volumes of Johnson's "Musical 
 Museum," which the poet presented to Captain 
 Riddel, of Friar's Corse. 
 
 We quote the beautiful ballad, with Burns' in- 
 troductory comment : 
 
 "The song of ' Gra-ma-chree ' was composed 
 by Mr. Poe, a counsellor at law in Dublin. "^ This 
 anecdote I had from a gentleman who knew the 
 lady, the ' Molly,' who is the subject of the song, 
 and to whom Mr. Poe sent the first manuscript 
 of these most beautiful verses.* I do not remem- 
 ber any single line that has more pathos than 
 
 * Burns also apologized for placing an Irish poem in a 
 
l5 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOB. 
 
 " ' How can she break the honest heart 
 That wears her in its core I ' " 
 
 As down on Banna's banks I stray 'd, 
 
 One evening in INIaj', 
 The little birds in blithest notes 
 
 ISIade vocal every spray; 
 Thej' sang their little notes of lo-el 
 
 They sang them o'er and o'er : 
 Ah! gra-ma-chree, ma colleen oge,* ' . 
 
 Ma Molly Astore. 
 
 The daisj^ pied, and all the sweets 
 
 The dawn of nature yields, 
 The primrose pale, the violet blue. 
 
 Lay scatter'd o'er the fields ; 
 Such fragrance in the bosom lies 
 
 Of her whom I adore : 
 Ah! gra-ma-chree, ma colleen oge, 
 
 Ma Molly Astore. 
 
 I laid me down upon a bank. 
 
 Bewailing my sad fate, 
 That doom'd me thus the slave of love. 
 
 And cruel ISIolly's hate. 
 
 collection in which it had no legitimate place. He evidently 
 wished to embalm Mr. Poe's exquisite verses in a permanent 
 form, and was willing, in his admiration of them, to disregard 
 the fitness of things. 
 
 * O love of my heart, my dear j'oung girl, my darling 
 Mollie. 
 
ANCESTRT, j^ 
 
 How can she break the honest heart 
 That wears her in its core! 
 
 Ah ! gra-ma-chree, ma colleen oge, 
 Ma Mollj Astore. 
 
 You said jou loved me, Mollj dear: 
 
 Ah! why did I believe? 
 Yes, who could think such tender words 
 
 Were meant but to deceive? 
 That love was all I ask'd on earth, 
 
 Nay, Heaven could give no more I 
 Ah ! gra-ma-chree, ma colleen oge, 
 
 Ma Molly Astore. 
 
 Oh ! had I all the flocks that graze 
 
 On yonder yellow hill, 
 Or low'd for nie the num'rous herds, 
 
 That yon green pastures fill, 
 With her I love I'd gladly share 
 
 My kine and fleecy store : 
 Ah ! gra-ma-chree, ma colleen oge, 
 Ma Molly Astore. 
 
 Two turtle doves, above my head, 
 
 Sat courting on a bough ; 
 I envy'd them their happiness. 
 
 To see them bill and coo; 
 Such fondness once for me she show'd. 
 
 But now, alas ! 'tis o'er. 
 Ah ! gra-ma-chree, ma colleen oge. 
 
 Ma Molly Astore. 
 
l8 LIFE OF EDGAR A, POE. 
 
 Then fare thee well, my Molly dear, 
 
 Thy loss I still shall moan; 
 Whilst life remains in Strephon's heart, 
 
 'Twill beat for thee alone. 
 Though thou art false, may H>eaven on thee 
 
 Its choicest blessings pour! 
 Ah! gra-ma-chree, ma colleen oge, 
 
 Ma Molly Astore. 
 
 General Poe married a Pennsylvania lady by 
 the name of Cairnes, who is still remembered as 
 having been a woman famous for her singular 
 beauty. They had five children, of whom the 
 fourth, David, was the father of the poet. The 
 manners and customs prevailing among the bet- 
 ter class of Southerners, at this period when 
 David Poe, Jr., was growing into manhood, were 
 little calculated to foster healthful moral restraints 
 in the younger generation. 
 
 The punch-bowl was as indispensable a fixture 
 in the hall as was the card-basket, and potations 
 from the generous liquor were as freely and 
 innocently indulged in as are draughts of ice- 
 water at the present time. The custom probabl}^ 
 came into vogue during the days of the Revolu- 
 tion, and doubtless answered well for campaign- 
 ers, with irksome out-of-door duties. In the 
 
ANCESTRT. . icj 
 
 warm climate of the South its baleful effects 
 soon came to be felt, but not until the manhood 
 of many well-intentioned young men had been 
 unwittingly sacrificed by the acquisition of a 
 habit of drink quite beyond control. David Poe, 
 Jr., not unnaturally, fell a victim to the indul- 
 gences of the flowing bowl, and manifested indi- 
 cations of a weakness which excited great solici- 
 tude among his family and friends. 
 
 While yet a law student in the office of William 
 Gvvynne, Esq., Baltimore, Maryland, he became 
 enamoured with EHzabeth Arnold, a young Eng- 
 lish actress of considerable repute, and, at the 
 age of eighteen, g fetp i ^d^ mtli and married her. 
 
 His parents, with the reprehensible contempt 
 for the stage which then obtained, and which, 
 more is the pity, still obtains to a great degree, 
 disowned the young man, and he was thrown 
 upon his own resources. Naturally enough, he 
 went upon the stage, supporting his wife in sev- 
 eral of her engagements throughout the country, 
 but, with his limited experience, never, of course, 
 attaining any position of importance. 
 
 Upon the birth of their first child, William 
 Henry Leonard Poe, a reconciliation between 
 
20 LIIiE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 him and his family was, according to some ac- 
 counts, cemented; but we doubt if David Poe 
 returned to the paternal mansion, for Edgar was 
 born in Boston, while his mother was playing an 
 engagement there, and all accounts agree that 
 the couple remained upon the stage up to the 
 time of their death. Mrs. Poe died from pneu- 
 monia, during an engagement at the Richmond 
 Theatre, December 8, 1811. 
 
 In the files of the Richmond Enquirer of that 
 year, under date of December 10, is found the 
 following obituary notice :^ 
 
 "Died, on Sunday last, Mrs. Poe, one of the actresses of 
 the company now playing on the Richmond boards. By the 
 death of this lady the stage has been deprived of one of its 
 brightest ornaments, and, to say the least of her, she was an 
 interesting actress, and never failed to catch the applause and 
 command the admiration of the beholder." 
 
 The poet's father did not long survive his wife, 
 dying only three days later of consumption. 
 
 The three orphaned children, William Henry, 
 Edgar, and Rosalie, all of tender 3'ears, were 
 left unprovided for, but all found kind friends, 
 although separated from each other. William 
 Henry was adopted by his grandfather, Mr. 
 David Poe, of Baltimore ; Edgar, by Mr. John 
 Allan, of Richmond; and Rosalie, by Mr. 
 McKenzie, a neic^hbor of Mr. Allan. 
 
CHAPTER IT. 
 
 CHILDHOOD. 
 
 1809-1S26. 
 
 Birth of the Poet — Early Beauty and Fascination — Poe's 
 Foster Father — Precocious Predilection for the Muses — 
 At School in England — Stoke Newington and Rev. Dr. 
 Bransbj — At School in Richmond — First Ideal Love — 
 Death of Helen Stannard — First Volume of Juvenile 
 Poems— At the University of Virginia— Testimony of the 
 Faculty of the University — Morbid and Sensitive Temper- 
 ament — Athletic Achievements. 
 
 DGAR ALLAN POE was born in Bos- 
 
 ton, on the 19th of January, 1809. 
 Born to privation, marked before his 
 birth with the brand of his father's vice, the or- 
 phan of two years seemed called upon to face an 
 abject future. But a glimmer of sunshine, at 
 least, was destined to illume his path. It was 
 but a glamour, a delusion that proved in the end 
 but as a winding-sheet to the hopes of our poet. 
 The extraordinary beauty and captivating man- 
 ners of Edgar unfortunately won the attention of 
 a gentleman residing in Richmond, Mr. John 
 Allan, a man of wealth and poshion. We use 
 
 (21) 
 
22 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 
 
 the word "unfortunately," advisedly, since the 
 imaginative child must have received, among 
 the first impressions of his new home, the idea 
 of the great inheritance to which he was to look 
 forward, and have become at the outset sur- 
 charged with the spirit of self-willed indepen- 
 dence, which such anticipations were calculated 
 to create and strengthen. INIr. Allan's income 
 was princely, and as he had no children, there 
 was no reserve in the admission that he designed 
 his adopted son to be the inheritor of his fortune. 
 
 These were the poet's halcyon days; and 
 even at this early time he evinced his predilec- 
 tion for the muses. Mr. Stoddard tells us that 
 he was remarkable for a tenacious memory and 
 a musical ear, and that he was accustomed to de- 
 claim the finest passages of English poetrj^ to the 
 evening visitors at INIr. Allan's house, with great 
 efiect. The most insensible of his audience 
 could not fail to be struck with the justness of his 
 emphasis, and his evident appreciation of the 
 poems he recited, while every heart was won by 
 the ingenuous simplicity and agreeable manners 
 of the precocious elocutionist. 
 
 Friends of the Allans describe Edgar in his 
 
THE POET'S CHILDHOOD. 23 
 
 childhood as a beautiful and interesting child; 
 bright, affectionate, and generous ; and, though 
 ^ often impetuous and wayward, never sullen nor 
 ill-natured. His adopted parents were very proud 
 of him. He was dressed like a prince, and in- 
 dulged in every possible way. He had a pony 
 to ride out, his own dogs to accompany it, and a 
 groom in livery. 
 
 Mr. Allan was not, however, invariably indul- 
 gent. He was quick-tempered, and sometimes 
 punished Edgar with great severity. INlrs. 
 Allan, who was deeply attached to him, always 
 took the boy's part. He returned his foster- 
 mother's devotion, and, so long as she lived, their 
 attachment was never broken, even by Mr. Al- 
 lan's threats of displeasure. Edgar, as a child, 
 never cherished resentment on account of real 
 or imaginary grievances. He would put his 
 arms around his foster-father's neck, and embrace 
 and kiss him, immediately after being punished. 
 He was not backward either in sentimental at- 
 tachments among his juvenile playmates. 
 
 He had always some favorite goddess among 
 his playmates, and, so long as his fancy lasted, 
 he would overwhelm her with offerings of fruit, 
 
24 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 
 
 flowers, and presents purchased with his own 
 pocket-money, with which he was always liber- 
 ally supplied. Once, while at a dinner-party, 
 he had a narrow escape from drowning, having 
 fallen from a catalpa-tree into a pool below. 
 He was rescued; and then, it was ascertained 
 that he had climbed the tree in order to be left 
 behind by his foster-father, that he might not be 
 torn from the society of a little girl with whom 
 he had become smitten at the party. 
 
 A pretty trick taught the boy by Mr. Allan, 
 to display his precocity at these parties, unques- 
 tionably deepened his pre-natal sensitiveness to 
 the effects of liquor. This was, to drink the 
 healths of the company in a glass of diluted wine. 
 He would stand upon a chair, raise his glass 
 with all the courtly ceremony of those Old Do- 
 minion days, then take a sip gracefully, and 
 with a roguish laugh, reseat himself, amid the 
 applause of the company. 
 
 Mr. Edward Valentine of Virginia, who 
 knew the Allans intimately at this time, speaks 
 of the boy's cleverness as something remarkable. 
 He could read, draw, and dance when but six 
 years of age. 
 
THE POET'S CHILDHOOD. 25 
 
 When at the White Sulphur Springs, the 
 favorite summer resort of the south, he used to 
 accompany Mr. Valentine's father on long rides, 
 seated on the saddle before or behind him, with 
 a collection of newspapers, which he would 
 good-naturedly read to any one whom they met. 
 He was ready, too, for a sparring-match with the 
 negro boys, when occasion offered, and he won 
 many a prize for vanquishing those hard-headed 
 black amoors. 
 
 With little or no restraint upon it, his impetu- 
 ous, eager, and restless disposition led him into 
 many mischievous pranks, for which he seldom 
 received the reproof which he deserved. 
 
 He was not especially obedient to Mr. Allan ; 
 which is not to be wondered at, considering how 
 he was petted and indulged by him ; and, on 
 one occasion, when punishment was threatened 
 for disobedience, the boy met the issue with an 
 adroitness that showed his marked precocity. 
 After pleading with Mrs. Allan, and finding that 
 she could not interfere, he proceeded to the gar- 
 den, collected a goodly bundle of switches, and, 
 returning to the house, silently presented them 
 to Mr. Allan. "What are these for?" inquired 
 
26 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE, 
 
 the father. "To whip me with," replied the 
 little five-year-old, clasping his hands behind 
 him, erecting his head fearlessly, and fixing his 
 large, dark eyes upon those of his guardian. 
 As he had shrewdly foreseen, Mr. Allan was not 
 jDroof against this martyr-like courage, and the 
 punishment was satisfactorily compromised. 
 
 Up to the age of six, Edgar had never been 
 sent regularly to school. He had, it is true, 
 been occasionally instructed by private teachers, 
 but in a desultory way, and with no pretence of 
 discipline; but in 1817, Mr. and Mrs. Allan, 
 being obliged to pay a long visit to England, to 
 settle an estate there, Edgar, now Edgar Allan, 
 after his adopted father, was taken with them, 
 and for the first time placed under the restraint 
 of regular school discipline, at the school of the 
 Rev. John Bransby, at Stoke-Newington. 
 
 Poe's partly autobiographical description of 
 this school is found in one of his matchless short 
 stories, " William Wilson " : " How quaint an old 
 building was this ! . . . The lateral branches were 
 innumerable — inconceivable. . . . During the 
 five years of my residence here, I was never 
 able to ascertain with precision, in what remote 
 
SCHOOL DATS IN ENGLAND. 27 
 
 locality lay the little sleeping apartment as- 
 signed to myself and some eighteen or twenty 
 other scholars. The school-room was the lar- 
 gest in the house — I could not help thinking, in 
 the world. It was very long, narrow, and dis- 
 mally low, with pointed Gothic windows and a 
 ceiling of oak. In a remote and terror-inspiring 
 angle w^as a square inclosure of eight or ten feet, 
 comprisir g the sanctum^ ^during hours,' of our 
 principal, the Reverend Dr. Bransby. It was a 
 solid structure, with massy door, sooner than 
 open which in the absence of the ^Dominie,' w^e 
 would all have perished by the ^eine forte et 
 dure. . . . 
 
 " Encompassed by the massy walls of this ven- 
 erable academy, I passed, yet not in tedium or 
 disgust, the years of the third lustrum of my life. 
 The teeming brain of childhood requires no ex- 
 ternal world of incident to occupy or amuse it ; 
 and the apparent dismal monotony of a school 
 was replete with more intense excitement than 
 my riper youth has derived from luxury, or my 
 full manhood from crime. Yet I must believe 
 that my first mental development had in it much 
 of the uncommon — even much of the outre. 
 
23 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 Upon mankind at large the events of very early 
 existence rarely leave in mature age any definite 
 impression. All is gray shadow — a weak and 
 irregular remembrance — an indistinct regather- 
 ing of feeble pleasures and phantasmagoric pains. 
 With me this is not so. In childhood I must 
 have felt with the energy of a man, what I now 
 find stamped upon memor}^ in lines as vivid, as 
 deep, as durable ^s the €xe?'gues of the Car- 
 thaginian medals." 
 
 After a two years' sojourn in England the 
 Allans returned to Richmond, where Poe was 
 sent to the school of Professor Joseph H. Clarke, 
 of Trinity College, Dublin. Here he took the 
 usual English studies, and was inducted into the 
 classics. He had already taken Latin at Stoke- 
 Newington, and Professor Clarke found him an 
 apt scholar. During his five }- ears' course there 
 he read most of the standard classics in Latin 
 and Greek, and, as might have been expected, 
 showed a strong preference for poetry, and a 
 corresponding aversion for mathematics. He 
 wrote poems, chivalrously inscribed to his girl 
 pla3anates, and, when he was ten years of age, 
 prepared them for the press, and handed them 
 
Rev. Dr. Bransby's Establishment at Stoke-Newington. 
 
 The School Play-Ground at Stoke-Newington. 
 
SCHOOL DATS IN RICHMOND. 29 
 
 to Mr. Allan for publication. It is due to the 
 judicious advice of Professor Clarke that the 
 verses were not published at that time. It is, 
 however, to be regretted that they were not 
 printed then, that the volume might have served 
 as an enduring monument of the poet's remark- 
 able literary precocity. Their publication could 
 hardly have intensified the boy's self-esteem, 
 already inordinately developed by the continued 
 indulgences of Mr. Allan. 
 
 Both Professor Clarke and the surviving 
 schoohnates of Poe unite in speaking of him as 
 a generous, brave, and unselfish boy. His 
 favorites were John S. L. Preston, now colonel 
 in the United States army, and instructor in the 
 Virginia Military Institute, and Robert Sully, 
 nephew of the artist, Thomas Sully. Young 
 Sully, who afterwards became an artist of more 
 than ordinary talent, was, as a boy, of delicate 
 physique, and of the most refined and sensitive 
 temperament, yet so irritable and suspicious, as 
 to render it almost impossible for even his best 
 friends to keep on good terms with him. 
 
 In all young Sully's numerous boyish dis- 
 putes with his fellows, Poe always championed 
 
30 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 him, getting many a hard blow in shielding his 
 friend. To the day of the poet's death there 
 existed between these two an unbroken friend- 
 ship. Mrs. Weiss truly says, that this evidence 
 as to the character of Poe's real disposition is 
 one of many examples of the untruthfulness of 
 Griswold's characterization of him as " morose," 
 *' choleric," and "wholly unamiable ; "a statement 
 uncorroborated by a single person who knew the 
 poet in his early life. 
 
 The poet's inherited histrionic tendencies, of 
 which we find fitful gleams, both in his life and 
 in his works, were occasionally illustrated at 
 this epoch of his life. He frequently masquer- 
 aded under various guises, successfully deluding 
 his most intimate acquaintances. 
 
 Once, when asked why he did not go upon 
 the stage, the poet replied, that he had consid- 
 ered the idea, and felt that he would succeed as 
 an actor, but that the publicity and bustling life 
 of the stage was unsuited to his tastes. 
 
 Professor Clarke removed from Richmond in 
 1823. His school was taken by Mr. William 
 Burke, and, under him, the poet remained until 
 the summer of 1825. 
 
THE REV. DR. BRANSBY 
 (Poe's English Schoolmaster.) 
 
SCHOOL DATS IN RICHMOND. 31 
 
 Here the embryo poet experienced what he 
 wrote of, in the last year of his hfe, as "the one 
 idolatrous and purely ideal love of his passionate 
 boyhood." As instancing a peculiar phase of 
 Poe's character, his sad, remorseful pity for the 
 departed, which, as Mrs. Whitman writes, is 
 everywhere a distinguishing feature in his prose 
 and poetry, this characteristic incident, which the 
 lady describes in her monograph on Poe, affords a 
 striking illustration. 
 
 One day, while at the academy at Richmond, 
 he accompanied a schoolmate to his home, where 
 he saw for the first time Mrs. Jane Stanard, 
 the mother of his young friend. 
 ""This lady, on entering the room, took his hand 
 and spoke some gentle, gracious words of wel- 
 come, which so penetrated the sensitive heart of 
 the orphan boy as to deprive him of the power 
 of speech, and, for a time, almost of conscious- 
 ness itself. 
 
 He returned home in a dream, with but one 
 thought, one hope in life : to hear again the sweet, 
 gracious words of welcome that had made the 
 desolate world so beautiful to him, and filled his 
 lonely heart with the oppression of a new joy. 
 
32 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 Mrs. Stanard afterwards became the confidant 
 of all his boyish sorrows ; and hers w^as the one 
 redeeming influence that saved and guided him m 
 the earlier da3^s of his turbulent and passionate 
 youth. 
 
 When she died, his grief w^as so boundless, 
 that for months after her decease, he made nightly 
 visits to the cemetery where the object of his 
 boyish idolatry lay entombed. 
 
 His predisposition to loneliness and melancholy, 
 found a welcome outlet here ; and it w^as on the 
 coldest and dreariest nights, when the autumnal 
 rains fell, and winds wailed mournfully over the 
 graves, that he lingered longest and came aw^ay 
 most regretfully. 
 
 His boy-love for this lady was the inspiration 
 of many of his exquisite creations. Her image, 
 long and tenderly cherished, suggested the three 
 exquisite stanzas to Helen* which first appeared in 
 one of the earlier editions of his poetry, — • stanzas 
 
 * Poe would never call a person whom he liked bj a name 
 distasteful to himself. He cordially disliked the name Jane, 
 and always called Mrs. Stanard, Helen. 
 
AT THE UNIVERSITT OF VIRGINIA. 33 
 
 written in his youth, which James Russell Lowell 
 says have in them a grace and symmetry of out- 
 line such as few poets ever attain, and which are 
 valuable as displaying "what can only be ex- 
 pressed by the contradictory phrase of innate 
 experience." _— - 
 
 ""A few months after leaving Burke's school, 
 Foe entered the University of Virginia at Char- 
 lottesville. It may be worth the while, as indica- 
 ting the absolute untrustworthiness of Griswold's 
 biography, to revert to his account of this cir- 
 cumstance. This account states that Poe en- 
 tered the University of Virginia in 1822 ; that 
 he there led a very dissipated life ; but the re- 
 markable ease with which he mastered the most 
 difficult studies kept him in the front rank of 
 scholarship, and that he could have graduated 
 with the highest honors, had not his gambling, 
 intemperance, and other vices induced his ex- 
 pulsion from the university. Is it not amazing 
 that a writer should so recklessly disregard dates 
 and facts, as to permit himself to represent a boy 
 of eleven years of age, according to his own rec- 
 ord, as a libertine and a drunkard ; for Gris- 
 wold states that he was born in 181 1. As a mat- 
 
24 LIFE OF EDGAR A, FOE. 
 
 ter of fact, Poe did not enter the university until 
 1826, being then just seventeen years of age. 
 
 The testimony of Dr. S. Maupin, president of 
 the University of Virginia, and of Mr. Wilham 
 Wertenbaker, the secretar}^ effectually refutes 
 the mendacities of Poe's original biographer upon 
 this point. Mr. Wertenbaker writes, — 
 
 "Edgar A. Poe was a student of the University 
 of Virginia during the second session, which 
 commenced February i, 1826, and terminated 
 December 15 of the same year. He signed the 
 matriculation book on the i6th of February, and 
 remained in good standing as a student till the 
 session closed. 
 
 "He was born on the 19th of Januar3S 1809, 
 being a little under seventeen when he entered 
 the institution. He belonged to the school of 
 ancient and modern languages, and, as I was 
 myself a member of the latter, I can testify that 
 he was tolerably regular in attendance, and a 
 very successful student, having obtained distinc- 
 tion in it in the final examination, — the highest a 
 student could then obtain, the present regulation 
 in regard to degrees not having been at the time 
 adopted. 
 
The University of Virg-iuia at Charlottesville. 
 
 Residence of Mr. John Allan, Richmond, Va. 
 
TESTIMONT OF THE SECRETART. 35 
 
 "On one occasion Prof. Batterman requested 
 his Italian class to render into English verse a 
 portion of the lesson in Tasso, assigned for the 
 next lecture. Mr. Poe was the only one who 
 complied with the request. He was highly com- 
 plimented by the professor for his performance. 
 Although I had a passing acquaintance with Mr. 
 Poe from an early period of the session, it was 
 not till near its close that I had any social inter- 
 course with him. 
 
 "After spending an evening together at a pri- 
 vate house, he invited me to his room. It was a 
 cold night in December, and his fire having gone 
 nearly out, by the aid of some candle ends and 
 the wreck of a table he soon rekindled it, and by 
 its comfortable blaze I spent a very pleasant hour 
 with him. On this occasion he spoke with regret 
 of the amount of money he had wasted, and the 
 debts he had contracted. 
 
 "In a biographical sketch of Mr. Poe, I have 
 seen it stated that he was at one time expelled 
 from the university , but that he afterwards returned 
 and graduated with the highest honors. This is 
 entirely a mistake. He spent but one session at 
 the university, and at no time did he fall under 
 
36 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 the censure of the facuhy. He was not at tliat 
 time addicted to drinking, but had an ungovern- 
 able passion for card-playing. Mr. Poe was older 
 than his biographer represents him. His age, I 
 have no doubt, was correctly entered on the 
 matriculation book." 
 
 In a brief note accompanying the statement of 
 the secretary, Mr. Wertenbaker, the president 
 of the universit}'. Dr. S. Maupin, writes, — 
 
 "Mr. Wertenbaker's statement is full upon all 
 the points specified, and is worthy of entire confi- 
 dence. I may add that there is nothing in the 
 faculty records to the prejudice of Mr. Poe. 
 
 "He appears to have been a successful student, 
 havincf obtained distinctions in Latin and French 
 at the closing examination of 1826. He never 
 formally graduated here, no provision for confer- 
 ring degrees of any kind having been made at 
 the time he was a student here." 
 
 In further confirmation of the correctness of 
 Mr. Wertenbaker's estimate of Poe at this time, 
 the following extracts from a manuscript letter, 
 written by a schoolmate, Mr. John Willis, of 
 Orange County, Virginia, may be cited : 
 
 "Poe had many noble qualities, and nature had endowed 
 him with more of genius, and a far greater diversity of talent, 
 
SENSITIVENESS OF TEMPERAMENT. 37 
 
 than any other whom it had been my lot to have known. He 
 had a fine talent for drawing, and the walls of his room at col- 
 lege were completely covered with his crayon sketches. His 
 disposition was rather retiring, and he had few intimate asso- 
 ciates. 
 
 ..." I trust you will be able to collect enough to vindicate 
 the character of Edgar Poe from every aspersion ; for, what- 
 ever may have been the errors, the misfortunes or the frailties 
 of his after-life, in the days of his youth, when first entering 
 upon manhood, his bosom was warmed by sentiments of the 
 most generous and noble character. 
 
 " Very respectfully yours, 
 
 "JOHN WILLIS." 
 
 That Poe's morbid, sensitive temperament did 
 not predispose him to conviviahty is, indeed, 
 evidenced in some of his partly autobiographical 
 stories. His affectionate disposition, indeed, 
 found little response, either from his proud yet 
 indulgent foster father, or from his youthful play- 
 mates ; and it is evident, from reading his own 
 description of his isolation at this time, as given 
 in "The Black Cat," that he grew up self-ostra- 
 cized from most of the usual associations with 
 others that are common in childhood. 
 
 "From my infancy I was noted for the docility 
 and humanity of my disposidon. My tenderness 
 of heart was even so conspicuous as to make me 
 
38 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 the jest of my companions. I was especially 
 fond of animals, and was indulged by my par- 
 ents with a great variety of pets. Witli these 
 I spent most of my time, and never was so happy 
 as when feeding and caressing them. 
 
 "This peculiarity grew with my growth, and 
 in my manhood I derived from it one of m}- prin- 
 cipal 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 inten- 
 sity 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." 
 
 Poe, however, was not a morbid recluse. In 
 these 3^outhful days we find him emulating the 
 daring deeds of his Norman ancestors, in gym- 
 nastic feats, that, but for attested documentary 
 evidence, would scarcely be credited. 
 
 He was very proud of his athletic achievements, 
 as, indeed, he had good reason to be. 
 
 "At one period he was known to leap the dis* 
 
A THLE TIC A CHIE VEMENTS. 39 
 
 tance of twenty-one feet six inches, on a dead 
 level, with a run of twenty yards. A most re- 
 markable swim of his is also on record in the 
 columns of the ' Richmond Enquirer,' and other 
 Richmond papers. It took place in his fifteenth 
 year. He swam, on a hot July day, against a 
 three-knot tide, from Ludlam's wharf on James 
 River, to Warwick — a distance of seven miles 
 and a half, — fully equal to thirty miles in still 
 water. The impossibility of resting, even for a 
 moment, by floating, in a task such as this, ren- 
 ders it Herculean, and the feat has never been 
 equalled by any one, properly authenticated. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 EARLY HARDSHIPS. 
 
 1827— 1834. 
 
 Home from School — First Quarrel with Mr. Allan — First 
 Meeting with Virginia Clemm — A Second Edition of Ju- 
 venile Poems — A Griswold Fabrication Disproved — Wil- 
 liam Henry Leonard Poe — Poe and the Milford Bard — 
 An Amusing Poetic Duel — Poe at West Point — A Third 
 Edition of Poems — The True Story of Poe's Dismissal 
 from West Point — Another Qiiarrel with Mr. Allan — 
 Second Marriage of Mr. Allan — Poe at Mrs. Clemm's — 
 A Lie Refuted — The Baltimore Prizes — Mr. J. U. B. 
 Latrobe's Account — Poe and Hewitt — Pen Photograph 
 of the Poet at 24 years — "Adventures of Hans Pfaal" — The 
 Heir Expectant Left Penniless. 
 
 ETURNING home after completing his 
 college career, Poe, like other spoiled 
 children of pampering fathers, found 
 that the fruits of the heedless indulgence in which 
 he had been reared, were not acceptable to his 
 foster father, when they came in the guise of 
 drafts given to pay gambling debts. 
 
 Mr. Allan declining to pay some of these 
 drafts, the high-spirited youth left the Allans' 
 house in high dudgeon, and took refuge, for the 
 
 (40) 
 
ANOTHER VOLUME OF POEMS. 41 
 
 time being, with his father's sister, Mrs. Maria 
 Clemm. 
 
 Here he first saw his cousin Virginia, then a 
 fairy-like child of six years. He naturally be- 
 came interested in his pretty little relative, and 
 undertook her education by way of occupation. 
 About this time, he published a second edition of 
 juvenile poems, his estrangement from his foster 
 father and dependence upon his aunt having 
 probably suggested the publication.* 
 
 Most authors are more sanguine as to the suc- 
 cess of their first book than at a later period, 
 when experience has taught them wisdom ; and 
 young Poe was, it is presumed, not an exception 
 in this respect. 
 
 Griswold writes that Poe, after quitting the 
 Allans at this time, left the country with the 
 Quixotic intention of joining the Greeks, then in 
 the midst of their struggle with the Turks. 
 
 According to this unscrupulous writer, "he 
 never reached his destination, and we know but 
 little of his adventures in Europe for nearly a 
 year. 
 
 * Hatch & Dunning, Baltimore, 1829. 
 
42 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 
 
 "By the end of this time he had made his way 
 to St. Petersburg, and our minister in that capi- 
 tol, the late Mr. Henry Middleton, of South 
 Carohna, was summoned one morning to save 
 him from penahies incurred in a drunken de- 
 bauch. Through Mr. Middleton's kindness, he 
 was set at hberty and enabled to return to this 
 country." Whether this is, like other statements 
 from this source, a fabrication from beginning to 
 end, or takes its color from a story told of an ad- 
 venture of William Henry Poe, the brother of 
 Edgar, cannot be determined. Certain it is, 
 however, that our poet never set foot in Europe 
 at all ; his cousin, Mr. Neilson Poe, a prominent 
 attorney, now residing in Baltimore, authorizing 
 the statement, that to his positive knowledge Poe 
 never left America at any time, although his 
 brother did make a European trip. 
 
 This brother, William Henry Leonard Poe, 
 was a young man of fine appearance, prepos- 
 sessing countenance, and an intellectual forehead. 
 
 A phrenologist at a glance w^ould pronounce 
 his head a fine one, although the animal propen- 
 sities greatly overbalanced the moral and intel- 
 lectual. 
 
WILLIAM HEART LEONARD POE. 
 
 43 
 
 He was a young man of irregular habits, of a 
 sanguine temperament, and a poet of some prom- 
 ise. He died in early manhood. As it has been 
 said, that, had he lived, he would have rivalled his 
 more renowned brother, we give some specimens 
 of his verse contributed to the "Minerva," a 
 weekl}^ paper conducted by Mr. J. H. Hewitt, of 
 Baltimore : 
 
 TO 
 
 A bitter tear for thee is shed, 
 
 Friend of mj soul, fair child of feeling I 
 The hopes that once existence fed, 
 Now live no more ; the heart that bled 
 
 For thee in self-contempt congealing. 
 Twine not for me a roseate wreath, — 
 
 'T will wither on the brow of care ; 
 But cull from the silent bed of death, 
 
 Blossoms that flourish sadlj there ; 
 Sighs may expand their hour of bloom, 
 Tears make them glitter through the gloom, 
 
 But oh ! the light of smiles maj blight 
 The tender blossoms of the tomb. 
 
 Go, and in fashion's plumage gay, 
 
 Though it was won by years of sorrow. 
 Pluck ca.'e from out thy soul, and say, 
 **I'I1 wear the smile of joy to-day. 
 
 Though anguish wring my heart to-morrow.* 
 
44 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 And with thee take my heart; 'tis thine. 
 Though guilty and too frail to trust; 
 
 While I, alone, unknown, shall pine 
 And banquet on my soul's disgust. 
 
 Live, if thou canst, devoid of art, 
 
 Rich in pure tenderness of heart, 
 And on thy way may Virtue's ray 
 
 With all its soft effulgence dart. 
 
 Farewell ! thy face is clouded now, 
 
 But soon a thousand smiles will flutter 
 Around thy lips, and that proud brow 
 Shall wear away the plighted vow 
 
 Thy lying lips now softly utter. 
 Go, and a heaven of peace be thine, 
 
 The fairest flowers the eye can find ] 
 Be on thy path ; should mem'ry shine 
 
 Upon the friend thou leavest behind, 
 Give to his fate a heartfelt tear, 
 But still let pleasure's sunshine peer 
 
 Upon thy heart, where'er thou art, — 
 It will not make thy form less dear. 
 
 TO MINNIE. 
 
 The rose that gloried on your breast, 
 And drew life from your glowing hej-rt, 
 
 Has oft to mine been closely pressed, 
 Too close, too fondly e'er to part. 
 
CRUDITT OF EARL T POEMS. 43 
 
 Why did you spurn it from its home 
 The sunshine of those sparkling eyes? 
 
 Tis near my heart, yet will not bloom, 
 But withers in my tears and sighs. 
 
 Although its perfume still remains, 
 
 Yet every leaf conceals a thorn ; 
 Just like the heart in sorrow's chains 
 
 When every ray of hope is gone. 
 
 And like that rose, affection wears, 
 
 At first, a tint as pure and gay, 
 Till 'neath the tide of worldly cares, 
 
 Its smiles of beauty fade away. 
 
 But still behind it leaves a pain, 
 
 A quick and penetrating smart, 
 The thorns of blasted hope remain. 
 
 And pierce the sad and broken heart. 
 
 The publication of Poe's book of verses excited 
 no especial public comment at the time of their 
 issue. 
 
 There were, in fact, but two literary journals 
 in Baltimore at this time, and the only paper 
 that noticed the work critically, "The Minerva," 
 handled it rather roughly. Many of the verses 
 were exceedingly crude, and the enterprise that 
 has led to their recent republication, contrary to 
 
46 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 the expressed dictum of the poet, seems incom- 
 prehensible. 
 
 An amusing episode, connected with the career 
 of the young poet at this time, is narrated by a 
 Baltimore acquaintance of Poe. The " Milford 
 Bard," who flourished in Baltimore in these days, 
 was an M.D., upon whom the muses had, it is 
 said, looked with some favor. His verses, how- 
 ever, were couched in a most erratic vein. 
 
 The Bard wrote a great number of fugitive 
 pieces in poetry and prose, which appeared in 
 the local journals of the day. 
 
 He was very jealous of Edgar Poe, and endeav- 
 ored, to the best of his ability, to depreciate him 
 in the estimation of the reading public. 
 
 He indulged in alcoholic potations, and, not 
 infrequently, would, under this influence, commit 
 acts which would cause him deep mortification in 
 his sober moments. 
 
 One day, while Poe was poring over some 
 books at his publisher's store, the "Bard" entered, 
 shabbily dressed and with unsteady gait. 
 
 The poets were unacquainted personally, and 
 did not recoccnize each other. 
 
 The Bard was loquacious and consequential, 
 after the manner of men in his condition. 
 
POE AND THE MILFORD BARD. 
 
 47 
 
 "How does my volume go off?" ajjked the 
 Bard of the bookseller. 
 
 'Tretty fairly, considering all things," was the 
 reply. 
 
 "Considering all things! What do you mean by 
 that?" asked the inebriated rhymester. 
 
 "Why, in the first place, the shockingly bad 
 likeness that disfigures the book is complained 
 of," responded the merchant. "The ladies say 
 it is nothing at all like you — not handsome 
 enough. In the second place, the pubhcation 
 does no credit to the printer." 
 
 "It is a confounded sight neater work than 
 Poe's," rejoined the Bard. "That fellow, con- 
 scious of his ugliness, hadn't the temerity to put 
 his phiz in his book, for fear that it might injure 
 the sale of it. Besides being neater, my volume 
 contains true poetry; whereas Poe's " 
 
 Here the bookseller, perceiving the threatening 
 storm, vainly endeavored to check the garrulous 
 braggart; but the Bard had got upon his pet 
 hobby, and he must needs ride it to the end. 
 
 "Who's this Poe, anyhow?" continued he; "an 
 upstart, at best. Here have I been writing for 
 years, and what's my reward? Rags and star- 
 
48 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 vation ! Why, sir, there's not a particle of 
 genius in the man ; his ideas are wild and discon- 
 nected; his verses hobble, and there's nothing in 
 them that can for a moment excite the sympathy 
 of the reader. Pooh ! talk about Poe being a 
 true poet. He may Poe it all his life, and die 
 forgotten." 
 
 The Bard wound up breathless at last, by ask- 
 ing the bookseller to advance him some money 
 on the sales of his book, as he had not eaten a 
 morsel of food for two days. 
 
 Poe had listened to the abuse of the maudlin 
 M.D., and as he stopped at last, he threw down 
 the book he had been pretending to peruse, and 
 stepping up to his rival, wdth face glowing with 
 indignation, addressed him : 
 
 "You are the Milford Bard, I presume, sir." 
 
 "That's me," answered the Bard; "and I ex- 
 pect 3^ou are Edgar Poe." 
 
 "Exactly so," was the rejoinder. "Now, sir, 
 let me enlighten you on one point on which }■ ou 
 appear to be totally ignorant. 
 
 "Nature rather missed it when she attempted to 
 instil into your brain even a moiety of true poetry. 
 Write on, and flood the world with your trash, 
 
A POETIC DUEL, ^c^ 
 
 but don't attempt to pass judgment on the efforts 
 of others. You are a worse judge than poet. 
 The Creator didn't intend you should be either." 
 
 The Bard cowered beneath the withering 
 glance of his high-spirited young rival, but, put- 
 ting on a swaggering air, he retorted, " I'll bet 
 ycu five dollars I can write more stanzas in one 
 hour than you can in a whole day." 
 
 Young Poe's lip curled in scorn, although he 
 seemed half-inclined to pity the wretched inebri- 
 ate, who, with his hands crammed into his pock- 
 ets, and an ineffably stupid expression upon his 
 face, stood swaying from one side to the other. 
 
 " I don't think you have five cents to lose, 
 much less five dollars," he replied ; "but," with a 
 wink to the bookseller, "I'll accept your chal- 
 lenge." 
 
 "Done ! " shouted the Bard. 
 
 Pencil and paper were furnished, and the 
 rivals began the tournament of rhymes. 
 
 The Bard was strong on his rhyme, although 
 as much cannot be said for his reason. Poe 
 wrote poetry. The Bard wrote the veriest non- 
 sense ; but in qtca7itity he tipped the scale. When 
 the particulars of this unique contest got abroad, 
 
eo LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE, 
 
 there ^Yas many a gibe cracked at the young poet's ^ 
 expense, among the litterateurs of Baltimore. _^ 
 
 In February, 1829, Poe, learning of the mortal 
 sickness of his adopted mother, Mrs. Allan, hafit- ^ 
 ened to Richmond. He was too late to take a 
 last farewell of her, death having claimed her 
 before the poet had reached his former home. 
 
 His visit to the Allan's house seems, however, 
 for the time being, to have reconciled Mr. Allan 
 to Poe, and, through his foster father's influence, 
 a nomination to a scholarship at West Point was 
 obtained. 
 
 Poe entered the military academy at West 
 Point on the ist of July, 1830. 
 
 For a time he pursued the exacting course of 
 studies with enthusiasm, headed every class, and 
 seemed delighted with everything. 
 
 But soon the unvarying discipline and irk- 
 some routine work began to tell upon his sensi- 
 tive organization, and he chafed under his re- 
 straint with ill-concealed impatience. 
 
 During this restless period of his sojourn at 
 West Point, he pubhshed a third and enlarged 
 edition of his juvenile poems.* 
 
 * E. Bliss, New York, 1S31. 
 
A THIRD EDITION OF POEMS. 51 
 
 The volume was dedicated to the "United 
 States Corps of Cadets," and although ridiculed 
 by the embryo warriors, was quite generally 
 subscribed for by them at the tolerably high figure 
 of $2.50 for a copy of the book, Vhich was a 
 very thin i2mo of ^24 pages,-printed oh paper 
 of a dirty-brown shade. 
 
 General Geo. W. Callum, of the United States 
 army, who ^as a^adet in the class below Poe 
 at this time, writes' of him, "He was a heedless 
 b^, very eccentric, and of course preferred 
 writing verses to solving equations. 
 
 "While at the academy, he published a small 
 volume of poems dedicated to Bulwer, in a long 
 random letter. These verses were the source of 
 great merriment with us boys, who considered 
 the author cracked, and the verses ridiculous 
 doggerel. 
 
 "Even after the lapse of forty years, I can now 
 recall these lines from ' Isabel : ' 
 
 " ' Was not that a fairy raj, Isabel ? 
 How fantastically it fell, 
 With a spiral twist and a swell, 
 
 And over the wet grass rippled away. 
 Like the tinkling of a bell.' " 
 
52 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 His early training, with the petted indulgences 
 of his childhood days, were little calculated to 
 prepare him for the strict regime of our severest 
 military school, and he gradually lost his interest 
 in study there, became abstracted, and shirked 
 his military duties as persistently as he had io\- 
 lowed them at first. 
 
 Finding himself thus totally unadapted, by 
 training and temperament, to the exigencies of 
 the place, he determined to leave it. 
 
 At West Point it is necessary, in order to 
 achieve such a step, to obtain permission from 
 the parent or guardian. For this permission, 
 Poe wrote to Mr. Allan, who flatly refused it; 
 this refusal Mr. Poe presented to Col. Tha3'er, 
 the superintendent of the " Post," who dechned 
 interfering with the rules, or to accept the resig- 
 nation. This was about the period that Poland 
 made the desperate and unfortunate struggle for 
 independence, against the combined powers of 
 Russia, Austria and Prussia, w^hich terminated 
 in the capitulation of Warsaw, and the annihila- 
 tion of the kingdom. All the cadet's former 
 chivalric vigor had now returned, and with in- 
 creased zest. He burned to be a participant in 
 
TRUE STORT OF POE AT WEST POINT. 
 
 53 
 
 die affray. But to do this, it was doubly neces- 
 sary to leave West Point. There was one re- 
 source yet left him ; this he took. He positively 
 refused to do duty of any kind, disobeyed all 
 orders, and, keeping closely to his quarters, 
 amused himself with caricaturing and pasquin- 
 ading the professors. There was a gentleman 
 named Joseph Locke, who had made himself 
 especially obnoxious, through his pertinacity in 
 reporting the pranks of the cadets. At West 
 Point a report is no every-day matter, but a very 
 serious thing. Each " report " counts a certain 
 number against the offender, is charged to his 
 account, and when tlie whole exceeds a stated 
 sum, he is liable to dismissal. Poe at this 
 time, it seems, wrote a lengthy and audacious 
 lampoon against this Mr. Locke, of which the 
 following are the only stanzas preserved : — 
 
 "As for Locke, he is all in mj eye, 
 
 May the devil right soon for his soul call. 
 
 He never was known to lie 
 In bed at a reveille roll-call. 
 
 "John Locke was a notable name : 
 
 Joe Locke is a greater ; in short, 
 The former is well known to fame, 
 
 But the hitter's well known to report.** 
 
J4. LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 The result of this was just what Poe intended 
 it should be. For some time Colonel Thayer, to 
 whose good offices the young cadet had been 
 personally recommended by General Scott, over- 
 looked these misdemeanors. But at length, the 
 matter becoming too serious, charges were insti- 
 tuted against Poe for " neglect of duty, and disobe- 
 dience of orders" (nothing was said about the 
 lampoons), and he was tried by a court-martial. 
 There were innumerable specifications, to all of 
 which, by way of saving time, he pleaded guilty, 
 although some of them were thoroughly absurd. 
 In a word, he was cashiered nem. con., and went 
 on his way rejoicing. 
 
 But not, however, to Poland. The capitula- 
 tion had been effected, and that unfortunate 
 country was no more. 
 
 In spite of statements to the contrary, Poe at 
 this time returned to Mr. Allan's house at Rich- 
 mond, and was received by him. Here he met 
 a INIiss Royster, a friend of his childhood, to 
 whom he paid attentions, which were favorably 
 received ; but Mr. Allan was opposed to the 
 match, and a furious quarrel, on this account 
 occurred between Poe and his foster-father. 
 
 i/ 
 
SERIOUS QUARREL WITH MR. ALLAN. ^^ 
 
 Poe again left Mr. Allan's house, and took 
 refuge with his aunt, Mrs. Clemm. Shortly after 
 the breach between Mr. Allan and Poe, the poet 
 was amazed by the intelligence that his foster- 
 father had married Miss Louise Gabrielle Pat- 
 terson, of New Jersey. 
 
 Poe's final rupture with Mr. Allan was owing 
 to the machinations of this second wife. When 
 he returned to Mr. Allan's house after this mar- 
 riage, Mrs. Allan, who had married her husband 
 for his wealth, began a course of systematic per- 
 secution towards Edgar. He found himself a 
 stranger in the house where he had been as 
 master. Mrs. Allan turned him out of what had 
 been his own room, assigned him to one of the 
 meanest in the house, and forbade the servants 
 to obey his orders. Poe, of course, resented 
 this harsh treatment. A tempestuous family 
 quarrel arose, and Mr. Allan, with his charac- 
 teristic weakness, refused to interfere with his 
 wife, and Edgar quitted the house in disgust. 
 
 Dr. Griswold, with a semblance of shame that 
 is unaccountable as emanating from him, relates, 
 in a learned foot-note in his memoir, full of 
 dark suggestions, quoted liberally from Sir 
 
S6 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 Thomas Browne, that there is another side to the 
 story of the final quarrel between Mr. Allan and 
 Poe, in which Miss Patterson is supposed to 
 figure. We regard this innuendo as perhaps the 
 most diabolical of the many unjustifiable as- 
 persions which Griswold has heaped upon 
 Poe"*; for, whatever may have been the poet's 
 faults, that he was chaste as ice, all competent 
 authorities unite in attesting. Honi soit quirnaly 
 fcnse. He was romantic, chivalrous, not sensual. 
 
 In a fit of desperation the poet, on leaving Mr. 
 Allan's house, enlisted in the army. He soon 
 became seriously ill from the exposure incident 
 to the unwonted hardship of barrack life, and, 
 being recognized by friends while at the hospi- 
 tal, his discharge was promptly secured. Gris- 
 wold's statement that he deserted, is, like others 
 made by him^ a malicious invention. 
 
 The facts are, on the written testimony of Mrs. 
 Clemm, that at this time his friends were seeking 
 for him a commission, and it is folly to believe, 
 when the prospects were favorable for his secur- 
 ing a higher position, that he would have reck- 
 lessly deserted, and thus deliberately and unne- 
 cessarily have incurred tKe penalty and disgrace 
 
A LIE REFUTED. ^y 
 
 of punishment. That Mrs. Clemm, at least, was 
 in full knowledge of his whereabouts at this time, 
 is evident from her statement made in this regard, 
 that Poe never slept one night away from home 
 until after he was married. It is futile to say, as 
 one of Poe's friendly contemporaries has said, 
 that such an audacious rumor should never have 
 obtained admission into a memoir of Poe, and 
 that it never would have done so, had proper 
 inquiries been made. Griswold never cared to 
 make inquiries ; his purposes forbade them. 
 
 With the birth of a son to Mr. Allan by his 
 second wife, Poe's hopes of inheriting received a 
 final blow, and in the congenial society of his 
 aunt, and fairy cousin Virginia, to whom he was 
 destined to be a Paul, he devoted himself to literary 
 work, not at the outset, it would seem, for profit, 
 but as a diversion for his otherwise idle hours. 
 
 An important event in the poet's life was 
 his appearance as a competitor for the prizes 
 offered by the proprietor of the " Saturday 
 Visitor," at Baltimore. The prizes were, one 
 for the best tale and one for the best poem. 
 Dr. Griswold states that, attracted by the beau- 
 ty of Poe's penmanship, the committee, with* 
 
58 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 out opening any of the other manuscripts, voted 
 unanimously that the prizes should be paid to 
 ^'the first of geniuses who had written legibl}^" 
 On the contrary, there appeared in the "Visitor," 
 after the awards were made, complimentary 
 comments over the committee's own signatures. 
 They said, among other things, that «// the tales 
 offered by Poe were far better than the best 
 offered by others ; adding "that they thought it a 
 duty to call public attention to them in these col- 
 umns in that marked manner, since they possessed 
 a singular force and beauty, and w^ere eminently 
 distinguished by a rare, vigorous and poetical 
 imagination, a rich style, a fertile invention and 
 varied and curious learning." 
 
 The committee comprised three of the most 
 prominent citizens of Baltimore at that time, 
 Messrs. John P. Kennedy, James H. Miller and 
 J. H. B. Latrobe. 
 
 The story of this award and its sequence has 
 been graphically related by Mr. Latrobe, who 
 is now a hale old gentleman of sevent3^-six 
 years. 
 
 We had the pleasure of hearing the following 
 narrative from Mr. Latrobe's own lips : — 
 
THE BAL TIM ORE PRIZES. 59 
 
 "About the year 1832, there was a newspaper 
 in Baltimore, called 'Saturday Review' — an 
 ephemeral publication, that aimed at amusing its 
 readers with light literary productions rather than 
 the news of the day. One of its efforts was to 
 produce original tales ; and to this end it offered 
 on this occasion two prizes, one for the best 
 story and the other for the best short poem — one 
 hundred dollars for the first, and fifty dollars for the 
 last. The judges appointed by the editor of the 
 'Visitor' were the late John P. Kennedy, Dr. 
 James H. Miller (now deceased) and myself, 
 and accordingly we met, one pleasant afternoon, 
 in the back parlor of my house on Mulberry 
 Street, and, seated round a table garnished with 
 some old wine and some good cigars, commenced 
 our critical labors. As I happened then to be 
 the youngest of the three, I was required to open 
 the packages of prose and poetry, respectively, 
 and read the contents. Alongside of me was a 
 basket to hold what we might reject. 
 
 "I remember well that the first production taken 
 from the top of the prose pile was in a woman's 
 hand, written very distinctly, as, indeed, were 
 all the articles submitted, and so neatly that it 
 
6o LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 seemed a pity not to award to it a prize. It was 
 ruthlessly criticized, how^ever, for it was ridicu- 
 lously bad — namby-pamb}^ in the extreme — full 
 of sentiment, and of the school then known as 
 the Laura Matilda school. The first page w^ould 
 have consigned it to the basket as our critical 
 guillotine beheaded it. Gallantry, how^ever, 
 caused it to be read through, w^hen in it w-ent, 
 along with the envelope containing the name of 
 the writer, which, of course, remained unknown. 
 The next piece I have no recollection of, except 
 that a dozen lines consigned it to the basket. I 
 remember that the third, perhaps the fourth, pro- 
 duction was recognized as a translation from the 
 French, with a terrific denouement. It was a 
 poor translation, too ; for, falling into literal ac- 
 curacy, the WTiter had, in many places, follow^ed 
 the Frencli idioms. The story w^as not without 
 merit, but the Sir Fretful Plagiary of a translator 
 described the charge of Sheridan in the ' Critic,' 
 of being like a beggar who had stolen another 
 man's child and clothed it in his own raofs. Of 
 the remaining productions I have no recollection. 
 Some were condemned after a few sentences had 
 been read. Some were laid aside for reconsid- 
 
SPECIMENS OF PRIZE COMPOSITIONS. 6 1 
 
 eration — not many. These last failed to pass 
 muster afterwards, and the committee had about 
 made up their minds that there was nothing be- 
 fore them to which they would award a prize, 
 when I noticed a small quarto-bound book that 
 had until then accidentally escaped attention, 
 possibly because so unlike, externally, the bun- 
 dles of manuscript that it had to compete with. 
 Opening it, an envelope with a motto corre- 
 sponding with one in the book appeared, and we 
 found that our prose examination was still incom- 
 plete. Instead of the common cursive manu- 
 script, the writing was in Roman characters — an 
 imitation of printing. I remember that while 
 reading the first page to myself, Mr. Kennedy 
 and the doctor had filled their glasses and lit 
 their cigars, and when I said that we seemed at 
 last to have a prospect of awarding the prize, they 
 laughed as though they doubted it, and settled 
 themselves in their comfortable cliairs as I began 
 to read. I had not proceeded far, before my col- 
 leagues became as much interested as myself. 
 The first tale finished, I went to the second, then 
 to the next, and did not stop until I had gone 
 through the volume, interrupted only by such 
 
(52 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 
 
 exclamations as ' Capital ! ' ' Excellent ! ' ' How 
 odd ! ' and the like from my companions. There 
 was genius in everything they listened to ; there 
 was no uncertain grammar, no feeble phrase- 
 ology, no ill-placed punctuation, no worn-out 
 truisms, no strong thought elaborated into weak- 
 ness. Logic and imagination were combined in 
 rare consistency. Sometimes the writer created 
 in his mind a world of his own, and then de- 
 scribed it — a w^orld so weird, so strange — 
 
 ' Far down bj the dim lake of Auber; 
 In the mistj mid-region of W^ier ; 
 Far down by the dank tarn of Auber, 
 In tlie ghoul-haunted woodland of Wier' — 
 
 and withal so fascinating, so wonderfull}- graph- 
 ic, that it seemed for the moment to have all 
 the truth of a reality. There was an analysis 
 of complicated facts — an unravelling of circum- 
 stantial evidence that won the lawyer judges 
 — an amount of accurate scientific knowledge 
 that charmed their accomplished colleague — a 
 pure classic diction that delighted all three. 
 
 "When the reading was completed, there was a 
 difficulty of choice. Portions of the tales were 
 read again, and finally the committee selected 
 
THE SUCCESSFUL STORIES. 
 
 63 
 
 'A MS. found in a Bottle.' One of the series 
 was called •' A Descent into the Maelstrom,' and 
 this was at one time preferred. I cannot now 
 recall the names of all the tales. There must 
 have been six or eight. But all the circum- 
 stances of the selection ultimately made, have 
 been so often since referred to in conversation, 
 that my memory has been kept fresh, and I see 
 my fellow-judges over their wine and cigars, in 
 their easy-chairs — both genial, hearty men, in 
 pleasant mood, as distinctly now as though I 
 were describing an event of yesterday. 
 
 "Having made the selection and awarded the 
 one hundred dollar prize, not, as has been said 
 most unjustly and ill-naturedly, because the man- 
 uscript was legible, but because of the unques- 
 tionable genius and great originality of the writer, 
 we were at libertj^ to open the envelope that 
 identified him, and there we found in the note, 
 whose motto corresponded with that of the little 
 volume, the name, which I see you anticipate, of 
 Edgar Allan Poe. 
 
 "The statement of Dr. Griswold's life, prefixed 
 to the common edition of Poe's works, that ^it 
 was unanimously decided by the committee that 
 
(5j. life of EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 the prize should be given to the first genius who 
 had written legibly — not another MS. was un- 
 folded,' is absolutely untrue. 
 
 "Refreshed by this most unexpected change 
 in the character of the contributions, the com- 
 mittee refilled their glasses and relit their cigars, 
 and the reader began upon the poetry. This, 
 although better in the main than the prose, was 
 bad enough, and when we had gone more or 
 less thoroughly over the pile of manuscript, two 
 pieces only w^ere deemed worthy of considera- 
 tion. The title of one was 'The Colisseum,' the 
 WTitten printing of which told that it was Poe's. 
 The title of the other I have forgotten : but upon 
 opening the accompanying envelope we found 
 that the author was Mr. John H. Hewitt, still 
 living in Baltimore, and well known, I beheve, 
 in the musical world, both as a poet and com- 
 poser. I am not prepared to say that the com- 
 mittee may not have been biased in awarding 
 the fifty dollar prize to Mr. Hewitt by the fact 
 that they had already given the one hundred 
 dollar prize to iNIr. Poe. I recollect, however, 
 that we agreed that, under the circumstances, 
 the excellence of Mr. Hewitt's poem deserved a 
 
POE AND HE WITT. 65 
 
 reward, and we gave the smaller prize to him 
 with clear consciences. 
 
 " I believe that up to this time not one of the 
 committee had ever seen Mr. Poe, and it is my 
 impression that I was the only one that had ever 
 heard of him. When his name was read, I re- 
 membered that on one occasion Mr. Wm. Gwynn, 
 a prominent member of the bar of Baltimore, 
 had shown me the very neat manuscript of a 
 poem called ' Al Aaraaf,' which he spoke of as 
 indicative of a tendency to anything but the busi- 
 ness of matter-of-fact life. Those of my hear- 
 ers who are familiar with the poet's works will 
 recollect it as one of his earlier productions. 
 Although Mr. Gwynn, being an admirable law- 
 yer, was noted as the author of wise and witty 
 epigrams in verse, 'Al Aaraaf was not in his 
 vein, and v/hat he said of the writer had not pre- 
 pared me for the productions before the commit- 
 tee. His name, I am sure, was not at the time a 
 familiar one. 
 
 "The next number of the ^Saturda}^ Visitor' 
 contained the *MS. found in a Bottle,' and 
 announced the author. My office, in those days, 
 was in the building still occupied by the Mechan- 
 
66 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 ics' Bank, and I was seated at my desk, on the 
 Monday following the publication of the tale, 
 when a gentleman entered and introduced him- 
 self as the writer, saying that he came to thank 
 me, as one of the committee, for the award in his 
 favor. Of this interview, the only one I ever had 
 with Mr. Poe, my recollection is very distinct 
 indeed, and it requires but a small effort of imagi- 
 nation to place him before me now as plainly 
 almost as I see any one of my audience. He 
 was, if anything, below the middle size, and yet 
 could not be described as a small man. His fig- 
 ure was remarkably good, and he carried himself 
 erect and well, as one who had been trained to 
 it. He was dressed in black, and his frock coat 
 was buttoned to his throat, where it met the 
 black stock, then almost universally worn. Not 
 a particle of white was visible. Coat, hat, boots 
 and gloves had very evidently seen their best 
 days, but so far as mending and brushing go, 
 everything had been done, apparently, to make 
 them presentable. On most men his clothes 
 would have looked shabby and seedy ; but there 
 was something about this man that prevented one 
 from criticizing his garments, and the details I 
 
PEN PHOTOGRAPH OF POE AT 24. 67 
 
 have mentioned were only recalled afterwards. 
 The impression made, however, was that the 
 award made in Mr. Poe's favor was not inoppor- 
 tune. Gentleman was written all over him. His 
 manner was easy and quiet, and although he 
 came to return thanks for what he regarded as 
 deserving them, there was nothing obsequious in 
 what he said or did. His features I am unable 
 to describe in detail. His forehead was high, 
 and remarkable for the great development of the 
 temple. This was the characteristic of his head 
 which you noticed at once, and which I have 
 never forgotten. The expression of his face was 
 grave, almost sad, except when he was engaged 
 in conversation, when it became animated and 
 changeable. His voice, I remember, was very 
 pleasing in its tone, and well modulated, almost 
 rhythmical, and his words were well chosen and 
 unhesitating. Taking a seat, we conversed a 
 while on ordinary topics, and he informed me 
 that Mr. Kennedy, my colleague in the commitee, 
 on whom he had already called, had either given 
 or promised to give him a letter to the 'Southern 
 Literary Messenger,' which he hoped would 
 procure him employment. I asked him whether 
 
CS LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 
 
 he was then occupied with any literary labor. 
 He replied that he was engaged on a voyage to 
 the moon ; and at once went into a somewhat 
 learned disquisition upon the laws of gravity, the 
 height of the earth's atmosphere, and the capa- 
 cities of balloons, warming in his speech as he 
 proceeded. Presently, speaking in the first per- 
 son, he began the voyage. After describing the 
 preliminary arrangements, as you will find them 
 set forth in one of his tales called 'Adventures of 
 one Hans Pfaal,' and leaving the earth, and be- 
 coming more and more animated, he described his 
 sensations as he ascended higher and higher, 
 until at last he reached the point in space where 
 the moon's attraction overcame that of the earth, 
 when there was a sudden hoidevcrsemcnt of the 
 car, and a great confusion among its tenants. By 
 this time the speaker had become so excited, 
 spoke so rapidly, gesticulating much, that when 
 the turn-upside-down took place, and he clapped 
 his hands and stamped with his foot, b}^ wa}' of 
 emphasis, I was carried along with him, and, for 
 aught to the contrary that I now remember, may 
 have fancied myself the companion of his aerial 
 journe}^. The climax of the tale was the reversal 
 
POE AND HEWITT. 69 
 
 I have mentioned. When he had finished his 
 description, he apologized for his excitabihty, 
 which he laughed at himself. The conversation 
 then turned upon other subjects, and soon after- 
 ward he took his leave. I never saw him more. 
 Dr. Griswold's statement that 'Mr. Kennedy 
 accompanied him (Poe) to a clothing store and 
 purchased for him a respectable suit, with a 
 change of linen, and sent him to a bath,' is a 
 sheer fabrication." 
 
 In the Mr. Kennedy of this jovial committee, 
 Poe found a friend, who continued one of the 
 poet's staunchest supporters to the day of his 
 death. 
 
 At this time he attended to Poe's material needs, 
 gave him free access to his home and its comforts, 
 the use of a horse for exercise when required, and 
 lifted him out of the depths into which his de- 
 pression and disappointments had sunk him. 
 Mr. Hewitt relates that Poe visited the office of 
 the "Minerva," after the announcement of the 
 prizes, and besought him to waive his claim to 
 the prize, but to receive the money, which Poe 
 was willing he should have. He only wanted 
 the honors, w^iich, he had been informed, he 
 
tjo LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 
 
 had fairly earned, for his poetry as well as for 
 his prose. Mr. Hewitt did not, of course, defer 
 to this pardonable but extraordinary request, and 
 Poe's first laurel wreath was robbed of a bright 
 leaf. 
 
 In 1834, Mr. Allan died, leaving three boys, 
 who supplanted Poe in his expected heirship. 
 
 Not a penny was left to the heir expectant, 
 who had been permitted to grow to manhood, 
 fed with the delusive hopes that, at the most 
 critical period of his life, turned to dust and 
 ashes, and left him to the mercies of an unchar- 
 itable and unsympathizing world. 
 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 BEGINNING A LITERARY CAREER. 
 
 1834- 1S38. 
 
 First Contributions to Periodicals — Engagement with the 
 " Southern Literary Messenger"— Griswold's Pettiness — 
 Critical Reviews— J. K. Paulding's Encomiums — Mar- 
 riage with his cousin, Virginia Clemm — Melancholy in 
 Solitude — Susceptibility to Drink— Innocence of Motive- 
 Withdrawal from the " Messenger" — Engagement on the 
 **New York Qiiarterly Review"— Mr. William Gowans* 
 Reviews — A Notable Review — First Prose Book, "Ar 
 thur Gordon Pym" — Its success in England. 
 
 HILE in Baltimore at this time, Poe 
 wrote and published several reviews and 
 stories, among which was the " Hans 
 Pfaal," mentioned by Mr. Latrobe, which Gris- 
 wold leaves us to infer is an imitation of Locke's 
 celebrated moon hoax ; whereas Poe's story ap 
 peared three vjeeks before Locke's story saw the 
 light. 
 
 During this year (1834), Mr. Thomas W. 
 White, of Richmond, launched a new literary 
 enterprise, "The Southern Literary Messenger." 
 
 (71) 
 
72 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 
 
 Mr. Kennedy was among the number invited 
 to contribute to the pages of the new magazine. 
 
 Mr. Kennedy's time did not, however, admit 
 of his acceptance of Mr. White's offer ; but he 
 did not lose the opportunity to recommend his 
 protege to apply as his substitute. 
 
 That Poe was successful in his application to 
 Mr. White, is well known. 
 
 The poet sent several specimens of his lit- 
 erary work, and in March, 1835, one of them, 
 "Berenice," was published. 
 
 Mr. White was so well pleased with Poe's con- 
 tributions, that he made Poe an offer to come to 
 Richmond, to undertake a department on the 
 magazine. 
 
 In response to this proposition the poet wrote : 
 
 "You ask me if I would be willing to come on to Rich- 
 mond if jou should have occasion for mj services during the 
 coming winter. I reply that nothing would give me greater 
 pleasure. I have been desirous for some time past of paying 
 a visit to Richmond, and would be glad of any reasonable ex- 
 cuse for so doing. Indeed, I am anxious to settle myself in 
 that city, and if, by any chance, you hear of a situation likely 
 to suit me, I would gladly accept it, were the salary even the 
 merest trifle. I should, indeed, feel mj^self greatly indebted 
 to you if, through your means, I could accomplish this object. 
 What you say in the conclusion of your letter, in relation to 
 
GRISV/OLD'S PETTINESS. 73 
 
 the supervision of proof-sheets, gives me reason to hope that 
 possibly you might find something for me to do in your office. 
 If so, I should be very glad, for at present only a very small 
 portion of my time is employed." 
 
 Mr. Kennedy, in response to a letter of inquiry 
 from Mr. White, had previously written, — 
 
 *' Dear Sir, — Poe did right in referring to me. He is very 
 clever with his pen — classical and scholarlike. He wants 
 experience and direction, but I have no doubt he can be made 
 very useful to you ; and, poor fellow ! he is very poor. I told 
 him to write something for every number of your magazine, 
 and that you might find it to your advantage to give him some 
 permanent employ. He has a volume of very bizarre tales in 
 
 the hands of in Philadelphia, who for a year past has 
 
 been promising to publish them. This young fellow is highly 
 imaginative, and a little given to the terrific. He is at work 
 upon a tragedy, but I have turned him to drudging upon 
 whatever may make money, and I have no doubt you and he 
 will find your account in each other." 
 
 An amusing instance of Griswold's pettiness, 
 and want of common-sense judgment even, in 
 his endeavor to belittle the position and char- 
 acter of his subject as much as possible, is found 
 in the following paragraph in the biography. 
 Speaking of the poet's connection with the " Lit- 
 erary Messenger," he writes, "In the next num- 
 ber of the * Messenger,' Mr. White announced 
 
74 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 that Poe was its editor, or, in other words, that 
 he had made arrangements with a gentleman of 
 approved hterary taste and attainments, to whose 
 especial management the editorial department 
 would be confided, and it was declared that this 
 gendeman would ' devote his exclusive attention to 
 his work.'" Having put this down in black and 
 white, following his statement that Mr. White 
 was a man of much purity of character, the re- 
 doubtable biographer evidently feels that he has 
 set Poe up a peg too high, and immediately 
 brings him down to an endurable level in the 
 next sentence : " Poe continued, however, to re- 
 side in Baltimore, and it is probable that he was 
 engaged only as a general contributor and writer 
 of critical notices of hooks."" Apropos of these 
 book reviews. Dr. Griswold dismisses them as 
 follows: "He continued in Baltimore till Sep- 
 tember. In this period he wrote several long 
 reviews, which for the most part were abstracts 
 of w^orks, rather than cridcal discussions." As a 
 matter of fact, the "Messenger" was in its seventh 
 month, with about four hundred subscribers, when 
 Poe assumed the editorship. Poe remained with 
 this journal until the end of its second year, by 
 
CRITICAL REVIEWS. 75 
 
 which time its circulation had been increased 
 fourfold. Thomas Cottrell Clarke writes that 
 "the success of the 'Messenger' has been justly 
 attributable to Poe's exertions on its behalf, but 
 especially to the skill, honesty and audacity of 
 the criticism under the editorial head. The re- 
 view of ' Norman Leslie ' may be said to have 
 introduced a new era in our critical literature." 
 
 This review was followed up continuously by 
 others of equal force and character. Of the re- 
 view of Drake and Halleck, Mr. J. K. Paulding 
 says, in a private letter, "I think it one of the 
 finest specimens of criticism ever published in 
 this country." — 
 
 But Griswold could see nothing in Poe's book 
 reviews of which he cared to speak, for reasons 
 which will be made evident by referring to the 
 poet's original review of " Poets and Poetry." 
 
 On the eve of setting out from Baltimore to 
 take up his residence in Richmond, Poe married 
 his cousin Virginia Clemm, then but a girl in 
 her fifteenth year ; but, thanks to the poet's in- 
 struction, intellectually, maturely developed. 
 
 Virginia was in delicate health, being already 
 marked as a victim to consumption, which pre- 
 
^6 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 vailed in the family. When informed of her 
 cousin's intention to leave her mother's house, 
 to take up his residence in Richmond, she was 
 inconsolable. Poe's love for her was that of a 
 brother, rather than of a lover. She, however, 
 felt for him an intense and passionate love. 
 This, joined with the influence of Mrs. Clemm, 
 who feared that the shock of the separation 
 might, otherwise, be fatal to Virginia, induced 
 the poet to consummate this marriage. They 
 were, therefore, privately married in Baltiniore, 
 but did not live together until a year later, when 
 they were publicly re-married in Richmond by 
 the late Rev. John Johns, Bishop 6f Virginia. 
 In his solitary moments, while separated from 
 his devoted child-wife, Poe seems to have been 
 deeply afflicted with the despairing melancholy 
 which, in his later years, wrought upon him the 
 direst effects. At this time he wrote to his friend, 
 Mr. Kennedy, as follows : — 
 
 Richmond, September ii, 1835. 
 
 Dear Sir, — I received a letter from Dr. Miller, in which he 
 tells me jOn are in town. 
 
 I hasten, therefore, to write 3'ou and express hy letter what 
 I have always found it impossible to express orally, — my deep 
 
MELANCHOLT IN SOLITUDE. 77 
 
 tense of gratitude for your frequent and effectual assistance 
 and kindness. 
 
 Through jour influence, Mr. White has been induced to 
 employ me in assisting him in all the editorial duties of his 
 magazine, at a salary of five hundred and twenty dollars per 
 annum. 
 
 The situation is agreeable to me for many reasons, but, 
 alas ! it appears to me that nothing can give me pleasure or 
 the slightest gratification. 
 
 Excuse me, my dear sir, if in this letter you find much in- 
 coherency ; my feelings, at this moment, are pitiable indeed. 
 
 I am suffering under a depression of spirits such as I have 
 never felt before. I have struggled in vain against the influ- 
 ence of this melancholy ; you ivi'll believe me when I say 
 that I am still miserable, in spite of the great improvement 
 in my circumstances. I say you will believe me, and for this 
 simple reason, that a man who is writing for effect, does not 
 write thus. My heart is open before you ; if it be worth read- 
 ing, read it. I am wretched, and know not why. Console 
 me ! for you can. But let it be quickly, or it will be too late. 
 Write me immediately; convince me that it is worth one's 
 while — that it is at all necessary — to live, and you will prove 
 yourself indeed my friend. Persuade me to do what is right. 
 I do mean this. I do not mean that you should consider what 
 I now write you a jest. Oh, pity me ! for I feel that my words 
 are incoherent; but I will recover myself. You will not fail 
 to see that I am suftering under a depression of spirits which 
 will ruin me should it be long continued. Write me, then, 
 and quickly ; urge me to do what is right. Your words will 
 have more -weight with me than the words of others, for you 
 were my friend when no one else was. Fail not, as you value 
 your peace of mind hereafter. E. A. Poe. 
 
78 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 How little the peculiar temperament of Poe 
 was understood by those with whom he was 
 associated, and how little of that precious sympa- 
 thy for which his sensitive soul pined was vouch- 
 safed him, is evident from the following matter- 
 of-fact, but kindly intended, letter from his best 
 friend, in answer to hi^ despairing pkint: — 
 
 "I am sorrj to see you in such plight as jour letter shows 
 jou in. It is strange that just at this time, when everybody 
 is praising you, and when fortune is beginning to smile upon 
 your hitherto wretched circumstances, you should be invaded 
 by these blue-devils. It belongs, however, to your age and 
 temper to be thus buffeted — but be assured, it only wants a 
 little resolution to master the adversary forever. You will 
 doubtless do well henceforth in literature, and add to your 
 comforts as well as to your reputation, which, it gives me 
 great pleasure to assure you, is everywhere rising in populai 
 esteem." 
 
 During this period of isolation, Poe's suscepti- 
 bility to the influence of drink became manifest. 
 
 The subject of Poe's alleged intemperance is 
 one that has given rise to an amount of righteous 
 condemnation that would have overwhelmed and 
 obliterated the reputation of an ordinary WTiter. 
 
 Mr. N. P. Willis writes, "We heaid from one 
 who knew him well (what should be stated in all 
 
SUSCEPTIBILITT TO DRINK. 
 
 79 
 
 mention of his lamentable irregularities), that 
 with a single glase of wine his whole nature was 
 reversed ; the demon became uppermost, and, 
 although none of the usual signs of intoxication 
 were visible, his z^/// was palpably insane." 
 
 On this point Mr. Thomas C. Latto writes, 
 "Whatever his lapses might have been, whatever 
 he might say of himself (Burns was equally in- 
 cautious, and equally garrulous in his aberra- 
 tions), the American poet was never a sot; yet 
 the charge has been made against him again and 
 again." 
 
 One of the most respected clergymen in Massa 
 chusetts,* who knew Poe well during the later 
 years of the poet's life, most emphatically assured 
 us, in a recent conversation, that Poe was not a 
 drunkard. "Why (he said), I, the most inno- 
 cent of divinity students at the time (1847), while 
 walking with Poe, and feeling thirsty, pressed 
 him to take a glass of wine with me. He de- 
 clined, but finally compromised by taking a glass 
 of ale with me. Almost instantly a great change 
 came over him. Previously engaged in an in- 
 describably eloquent conversation, he became as 
 if paralj^zed, and with compressed lips and 
 
 * Rev. Warren II. Cuchvorth, of East Boston. 
 
3o LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 fixed, glaring eyes, returned, without uttering a 
 word, to the house which we were visiting. For 
 hours, the strange spell hung over him. He 
 seemed a changed being, as if stricken by some 
 peculiar phase of insanity." 
 
 He never understood his pathological condi- 
 tion until late in Hfe, when his disease had got 
 beyond control ; but his native delicacy imposed 
 a healthful restraint upon his tendencies. 
 
 His excesses were few and far between, the 
 result either of moods of extreme mental de- 
 pression, induced by his terrible vicissitudes, 
 or of an occasional lapse from his usual firm 
 resistance of what were to him baleful hospitali- 
 ties. Said a gentleman who knew him well in 
 Richmond, '' He resisted more temptation in a 
 day than most men do in a year." 
 
 Unlike the large majority of mankind who are 
 able to take a single glass w^ith impunity, in 
 exchanging a social pledge with a friend or 
 companion. Nature had marked him as abnor- 
 mally susceptible ; and will it not be generally 
 admitted that any inherited or constitutional 
 weakness is less amenable to reason, than one 
 which is merely the result of an artificial or 
 acquired taste? 
 
WITHDRAWAL FROM THE MESSENGER. Sr 
 
 Poe, it would seem, never resorted to liquor, 
 even for the pardonable necessity of stimulating 
 his literary inspirations. Such a sequel w^as 
 impossible to his indulgence in what is to many 
 a fortunate and desirable support. 
 
 When engaged in writing, his sensitive organi- 
 zation rendered any stimulant stronger than 
 coffee fatal to his work, and even that pleasant 
 and comparatively innocent beverage could be 
 taken but sparingly by him. One of the causes 
 of his isolation from society in the later years of 
 his life, was his sensitiveness to his exceptional 
 weakness, which placed him in an awkward 
 position, from his native courtesy, when obliged, 
 for self-protection, to decline even touching a 
 single glass of wine. 
 
 Referring to Poe's retirement from the "Mes- 
 senger," which took place in 1837, Griswold 
 writes, "Poe's irregularities frequently interrupted 
 the kindness, and finally exhausted the patience, 
 of his generous though methodical employer, 
 and in the number of the " Messenger " for Jan- 
 uary 1837, he thus took leave of its readers : — 
 
 "J/r. Poes attention being called in another 
 direction, he will decline, with the present num- 
 
82 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 ber, the editorial duties of the 'Messenger.' His 
 Critical Notices for this month end with Professor 
 Anthon's "Cicero" — what follows is from another 
 hand. With the best wishes to the magazine, 
 and to its few foes, as well as many friends, he is 
 now desirous of bidding all parties a peaceful 
 farewell." 
 
 So far from dismissing the poet on account of 
 drunkenness, Mr. White parted from him w^ith 
 reluctance ; and Griswold's characteristic unfair- 
 ness is again exhibited in the suppression, in his 
 memoir, of Mr. White's letter to his subscribers, 
 which appeared in the identical number of the 
 "Messenger" which contained Poe's note of resig- 
 nation. 
 
 In this note, the proprietor paid a handsome 
 compHment to the marked ability of his editor, 
 acknowledged the success of the magazine under 
 his direction, and added, "IMr. Poe, however, 
 will continue to furnish its columns, from time to 
 time, with the effusions of his vigorous and popu- 
 lar pen." 
 
 Griswold knew well that Poe resigned, owing 
 to a flattering invitation which he received from 
 Professors Anthon, Henry and Hawks to come 
 
GO WANS' REMINISCENCES. S3 
 
 to New York and join them in their new literary 
 enterprise, "The New York Qviarterly Review." 
 
 In the letter of Dr. Hawks is sounded the 
 key-note to which Poe responded in his after-work 
 with an implacable devotion that struck terror to 
 the hearts of all those who crossed the path of 
 his merciless pen. Dr. Hawks writes, "I wish 
 you to fall in with your hroad-axe [the italics are 
 the doctor's] amidst this miserable literary trash 
 that surrounds us. I believe you have the will, 
 and I know you will have the ability." 
 
 In acceptance of Dr. Hawks' invitation, Poc 
 removed to New York, and took up his residence 
 at No. 113 Carmine Street in that city. 
 
 A valuable contribution to the ana of Poe has 
 been left by Mr. William Gowans, the Scotch 
 bibliopolist, of New York, widely known and 
 respected by the book-selling and book-reading 
 community. Mr. Gowans, as it happened, re- 
 sided in the same house with Poe at this time, 
 and writing of the criticisms of Poe by his con- 
 temporaries, as well as of the poets menage 
 which he had a rare opportunity of observing, he 
 says, — 
 
 "The characters drawn of Poe by his various 
 
84 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 
 
 biographers and critics may, with safety, be pro- 
 nounced an excess of exaggeration ; but this is 
 not to be much wondered at, when it is taken 
 into consideration that these men were rivals, 
 either as poets or prose writers, and it is Vs^ell 
 known that such are generally as jealous of each 
 other as are the ladies wdio are handsome, or 
 those w4io desire to be considered possessed of 
 the coveted quality. It is an old truism, and as 
 true as it is old, that in the midst of counsels 
 there is safety.' I, therefore, will also show you 
 my opinion of this gifted but unfortunate man. 
 It may be estimated as worth little, but it has 
 this merit : it comes from an eye and ear wit- 
 ness, and this, it must be remembered, is the 
 very highest of legal evidence. 
 
 ''For eight months or more, one house con- 
 tained us, one table fed us. During that time I 
 saw much of him, and had an opportunity of 
 conversing with him often, and I must say, I 
 never saw him in the least affected by liquor, 
 nor knew him to descend to any kind of vice ; 
 while he was one of the most courteous, gentle- 
 manly and intelligent companions I have ever 
 met during my journeyings and baitings through 
 
A NO TABLE RE VIE W. Z^ 
 
 divers divisions of the globe. Besides, he had an 
 extra inducement to be a good man, as well as a 
 good husband, for he had a wife of matchless 
 beauty and loveliness. 
 
 "Her eyes could match those of any houri, and 
 her face defy the genius of Canova to imitate ; 
 a temper and disposition of surpassing sweetness. 
 She seemed, withal, as much devoted to him and 
 his every interest as a young mother is to her 
 first-born." 
 
 Among other critical articles written by Poe 
 for the "Review" at this time, was a lengthy criti- 
 cism on Stephens' "Incidents of Travels in Egypt, 
 Arabia, Petrea and the Holy Land." The poet 
 made an elaborate showing-up of the traveller's 
 misconceptions of the biblical prophecies, as well 
 as of some important mistranslations in Ezekiel 
 and Isaiah. 
 
 This article created a sensation, although it 
 aroused the antagonism of such men as Griswold, 
 and others of his ilk, some of whom yet live to 
 void their venom upon the fair fame of the fear- 
 less adversary, with whom in life they dared 
 not to measure swords. 
 
 During his residence in New York, at this 
 
S6 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 
 
 time, Poe published, in book form, a story which 
 he had begun several months before in the "Liter- 
 ary Messenger," — " Arthur Gordon Pym." The 
 work was issued by Harper & Brothers. The 
 title-page reads as follows : — 
 
 "The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym, of 
 Nantucket : comprising the Details of a Mutiny 
 and Atrocious Butchery on board the American 
 Brig * Grampus,' on her way to the South Seas; 
 with an Account of the Recapture of the Vessel 
 by the Survivors; their Shipvv^reck, and subse- 
 quent Horrible Sufferings from Famine; their 
 Deliverance by means of the British Schooner 
 Jane Gray ; the brief Cruise of this latter Vessel 
 in the Antarctic Ocean ; her Capture, and the 
 Massacre of the Crew among a Group of Islands 
 in the 84th parallel of southern latitude ; together 
 with the incredible Adventures and Discoveries 
 slill further South, to which that distressing 
 calamity gave rise." 
 
 The work was not appreciated by the Ameri- 
 can public, and less than a thousand copies were 
 disposed of by the publishers. In England, 
 however, it was highl}^ successful, running 
 through several editions within a short time. 
 
REPRINTED IN ENGLAND. 
 
 S7 
 
 Griswold says, "that the publishers sent one 
 hundred copies to England, and being mistaken, 
 at first, for a narrative of real experiences, it was 
 advertised to be reprinted ; but a discovery of its 
 character, I believe, prevented such a 'result." 
 It will be noted that the facts again tip the scale, 
 against the balance of Griswold's fiction, in this 
 instance. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 VARIED EXPERIENCES IN PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 1S3S-1844. 
 
 Removal to Philadelphia — Engagement as Editor of the 
 "Gentleman's Magazine" — "Ligeia" — Inspiration of Vis- 
 ions — The Fall of the House of Usher — The Haunted 
 Palace — Griswold's Charges of Plagiarism — The Manual of 
 Chonchology — Professor Wjatt's Refutation — First Col- 
 lection of Tales — An Audacious Griswold Invention — C. 
 Alexander's Letter — The "Gentleman's" Merged in "Gra- 
 ham's" — BrightcrDays — Pen Pictures of the Poet's Home — 
 Virginia's Simplicity — A Pleasing Incident — The INIurdei'S 
 in the Rue Morgue — First Introduction to the French Pub- 
 lic — An Absurd Controversy — Baudelaire on Gi-iswold — 
 The Barnabj Rudge Analysis — The ISIystery of ISIarie 
 Roget — The Purloined Letter — Notable Papers on Au- 
 tograpy and Cryptology — Withdrawal from "Graham's" — 
 Griswold's Confession of Facts, and its Cause — George R. 
 Graham's Statement — A Pertinent Anecdote — The Dream 
 cfPoe's Life — The "Stylus" — First Appearance on the 
 Rostrum, at Baltimore — First Lecture in Philadelphia. 
 
 OE remained in New York but a year. 
 
 The metropolis was not then the Mecca 
 
 of magazinists and critics that it has 
 
 come to be now, and Philadelphia seemed then 
 
 to offer superior advantages to the poet-critic for 
 
 regular employment. 
 
 (8S) 
 
INSPIRATION OF VISIONS. 89 
 
 Near the end of the year 1838, Poe removed 
 to Philadelphia. There Wm. E. Burton, the 
 famous comedian, had established the "Gentle- 
 man's Magazine." The poet joined its corps of 
 contributors, and in less than six months his 
 brilliant experience with the "Messenger" was 
 repeated, and the editor's chair was assigned to 
 him. In this position he worked two hours a day, 
 at a salary of ten dollars per week. This en- 
 gagement gave him ample time for other literary 
 duties, and he wrote for other journals, among 
 which was the " Literary Examiner," of Pittsburgh, 
 Pa. Some of his best prose tales were done at 
 this time, when the yoke of privation sat but 
 lightly upon his shoulders. 
 
 "Ligeia," his favorite tale, written at this time, 
 was inspired by a dream, although none but his 
 charmed circle of intimates were permitted to 
 know of the inner life which gave it birth. To 
 these he often spoke, writes Mrs. Whitman, "of 
 the imageries and incidents of his inner life, as 
 more vivid and veritable than those of his outer 
 experience." 
 
 On a manuscript copy of one of his later 
 poems, he refers, in a pencilled note, to the 
 vision that inspired " Ligeia :" 
 
^O LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 
 
 *'A11 that I have here expressed was actuall}'' 
 present to me. Remember the mental condition 
 which gave rise to ^Ligeia,' — recall the pas- 
 sage of which I spoke, and observe the coinci- 
 dence." 
 
 "I regard these visions," he says, "even as 
 they arise, with an awe which, in some measure, 
 moderates or tranquillizes the ecstasy. I so re- 
 gard them through a conviction that this ecstasy, 
 in itself, is of a character supernal to nature, — 
 is a glimpse of the spirit's inner world." "He 
 had," writes Mrs. Whitman, "that constitutional 
 determination to reverie which, according to De 
 Quincey, alone enables man to dream magnifi- 
 cently, and which, as we have said, made his 
 dreams realities, and his life a dream. 
 
 "His mind was, indeed, a Haunted Palace, 
 echoing to the footfalls of ajigels and demons." 
 
 "No man," said Poe, "has recorded, no man 
 has dared to record, the wonders of his inner 
 life." 
 
 "The Fall of the House of Usher" also ap- 
 peared at this dme. Even Griswold was moved 
 to accord to these tales "the unquestionable stamp 
 of genius." 
 
THE HAUNTED PALACE. c)i 
 
 He writes of them, "The analyses of the growth 
 of madness m one, and the thrilling revelations of 
 the existence of a first wife in the person of a 
 second, in the other, are made with consummate 
 skill ; and the strange and solemn and fascinating 
 beauty wdiich informs the style and invests the 
 circumstances of both, drugs the mind, and 
 makes us forget the improbabilities of their gen- 
 eral design." 
 
 "The Fall of the House of Usher" incorporated 
 the poem of "The Haunted Palace," which Gris- 
 w^old ventured to mention as a specimen of Poe's 
 so-called plagiarisms "scarcely paralleled for their 
 audacity in all literary history." 
 
 Poe, it is known, wrote one of his scathing 
 criticisms, animadverting upon Mr. Longfellow's 
 originality ; but he undoubtedly felt that he had 
 done our representative American poet grave 
 injustice, for he shortly afterwards, in reviewing 
 Griswold's Poets and Poetry of America, w^rote 
 most generously of Mr. Longfellow. The re- 
 semblance between the poem.s w^as, unquestion- 
 ably, a not unprecedented coincidence. 
 
 The same imperturbable authority which pre- 
 sumes placidly to state that Poe was not remark- 
 
Q3 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 ably original in invention, owing to these sundry 
 plagiarisms, classes his story of " The Pit and 
 the Pendulum" under the same head. This, 
 he says, was borrowed from a story, entitled 
 " ViTcnzto,'' or "Italian Vengeance," by the 
 author of" The First and Last Dinner," in " Black- 
 wood's Magazine." These stories have been 
 carefully compared {not by Dr. Griswold) , and 
 their only similarity is in the fact that both stories 
 are founded upon the idea of a collapsing room, 
 for which authenticated historical record, and 
 not the creative power of the w^ raters, is to be 
 credited. In plot or construction, there is not the 
 slightest resemblance between these stories. 
 
 The most flagrant plagiarism alleged against 
 Poe by Dr. Griswold was that of the pubhshing 
 of the "Manual of Conchology," which, it is 
 charged, w^as a copy, nearly verbatim, of "The 
 Text-book of Conchology," by Captain Thomas 
 Brown, printed in Glasgow in 1833. He writes, 
 " Mr. Poe actually took out a copyright for the 
 American edition of Captain Brow^n's work, and, 
 omitting all mention of the English original, 
 pretended, in the preface, to have been under 
 great obligations to several scientific gentlemen 
 of this city." 
 
PROFESSOR Wr ATT' S REFUTATION. 93 
 
 Although this story could have, at the time of 
 the original publication of Griswolcl's memoir, 
 been easily disproved, no one of Poe's friends 
 took the trouble to investigate this charge ; and 
 his rivals and enemies w^ere only w^ell pleased 
 to accept the statement of Griswold as truthful. 
 Most of them had been pretty roughly handled — 
 pilloried by the poet's merciless pen ; and al- 
 though they may have deserved his strictures, 
 which, however severe, never stooped to deliber- 
 ate falsification, they were, nevertheless, goaded 
 to the bitterest enmity by his scathing expose 
 of their shortcomings. 
 
 Therefore, it is to be presumed, this story of 
 the wholesale appropriation of the English au- 
 thor's book was as a toothsome morsel in their 
 cup of bitterness. 
 
 But some ten years after this falsehood had 
 gone on record, it was most authoritatively dis- 
 proved in the columns of the "Home Journal," 
 New York, by Professor Wyatt, a Scotch scientist, 
 who, it is understood, was not in the country at 
 the time the charge against Poe was originally 
 published. 
 
 This gentleman had, it seems, become ac- 
 
p4 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 quainted with Poe while the poet was connected 
 with the "Gentleman's Magazine," at the period 
 of which we are now writing, and had engaged 
 him to assist in the compilation of several works 
 on natural history. According to the statement 
 of Prof. Wyatt, a comparison of Brown's " Text- 
 book " with Poe and Wyatt's " Manual " evidences 
 that they bear some resemblance, both being 
 founded on the system of Lamarck ; but it would 
 be as absurd to charge that the American book 
 is plagiarized from the English, as it would be to 
 term " Hooker's School Physiology " a plagia- 
 rism from Olmsted's, because both treat of certain 
 subjects in common. 
 
 As musical composers frequently vie with each 
 other in setting their scores to the same subject, 
 so authors may be permitted to evolve from a 
 given subject, even if previously appropriated, 
 the new creations moulded by the emanations of 
 their own peculiar creative powers ; and, by 
 matter-of-fact minds, incapable of sensing deli- 
 cate distinctions, poets from Shakspeare down to 
 Aldrich have been, and will continue to be, ad- 
 judged guilty of arrant plagiarisms. 
 
 In the autumn of 1839, -^^^ published his first 
 
AN AUDACIOUS INVENTION. 
 
 95 
 
 collection of tales in two volumes under the 
 title, "Tales of the Arabesque and Grotesque." 
 This issue included "Ligeia," and "The Fall of 
 the House of Usher," with others of his notable 
 imaginative compositions. These stories were, 
 at the time, caviare to the general reading public 
 to which they were addressed ; but they won 
 favor with the very limited circle of literary peo- 
 ple, whose favor was worth the while, although 
 the poet probably reaped no significant pecuniary 
 reward from their publication. 
 
 Dr. Griswold's account of Poe's alleged seces- 
 sion from the "Gentleman's Magazine," which he 
 states occurred in 1840, wilfully misrepresents the 
 facts. 
 
 After mentioning a personal correspondence 
 between Burton and Poe, in which the views of 
 the latter, whatever they may have been, are 
 carefully suppressed. Dr. Griswold romances 
 as follows : " He [Burton] was absent nearly 
 a fortnight, and on returning he found that his 
 printers had not received a line of copy, but that 
 Poe had prepared the prospectus of a new 
 monthly, and obtained transcripts of his subscrip- 
 tion and account books, to be used in a scheme 
 
96 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 for supplanting him. He encountered his asso- 
 ciate kite in the evening, at one of his accustomed 
 haunts, and said, ^Mr. Poe, I am astonished. 
 Give me my manuscripts, so that I can attend to 
 the duties which you have so shamefully neg- 
 lected, and when you are sober we will settle.' 
 Poe interrupted him wuth, 'Who are you that 
 presume to address me in this manner? Burton, 
 I am the editor of the "Penn Magazine," and 
 you are — hiccup — o. foolT Of course, this 
 ended his relations wdth the ' Gentlem^an's.' " 
 That this alleged conversation, so plausibly nar- 
 rated as to pass current, nem. con., were it not 
 for the existence of more reliable documentary 
 evidence, is an audacious invention, will be ap- 
 parent from the written testimony given of a 
 gentleman connected with the " Gentleman's 
 Magazine" at this time as publisher, Charles W. 
 Alexander, Esq., the founder of the "Philadel- 
 phia Saturday Evening Post." 
 
 In a letter to T. W. Clarke, Esq., proprietor 
 of the "Museum," pubhshed at that time in Phil- 
 adelphia, Mr. Alexander writes as follows : — 
 
 Philadelphia, Oct. 20th, 1S50. 
 My dear Sir, — I very cheerfully reply to your request 
 made in reference to our friend Edsrar Allan Poe. 
 
C. ALEXANDER'S LETTER. g>j 
 
 I well remember his connection with the "Gentleman's 
 Magazine," of which Mr. Burton was editor, and myself the 
 publisher, at the period referred to in connection with Mr. 
 Poe. 
 
 The absence of the principal editor on professional duties 
 left the matter frequently in the hands of Mr. Poe, whose un- 
 fortunate failing may have occasioned some disappointment 
 in the preparation of a particular article expected from ///;», 
 but never interfering with the regular publication of the 
 " Gentleman's Magazine," as its monthly issue was never in- 
 terrupted upon any occasion, either from Mr. Poe's defi- 
 ciency, or from any other cause, during my publication of it, 
 embracing the whole time of Mr. Poe's connection with it. 
 That Mr. Poe had faults seriously detrimental to his own in- 
 terests, none, of course, will deny. They were, unfortu- 
 nately, too well known in the literary circles of Philadelphia, 
 were there any disposition to conceal them. But he alone 
 was the sufferer, and not those who received the benefit of his 
 pre-eminent talents, however irregular his habits or uncer- 
 tain his contributions may occasionally have been. 
 
 I had long and familiar intercourse with him, and very 
 
 cheerfully embrace the opportunity which you now offer of 
 
 bearing testimony to the uniform gentletiess of dispositio7t 
 
 and kindness of heart which distinguished Mr. Poe in all 
 
 my intercourse with him. With all his faults, he was a 
 
 gentleman ; which is more than can be said of some who have 
 
 undertaken the ungracious task of blacking the reputation 
 
 which Mr. Poe, of all others, esteemed " the precious jewel of 
 
 liis soul." 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 C. Alexander. 
 To Mr. T. C. Clarke. 
 
^8 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 According to Mr. Clarke, the "Penn Magazine" 
 had not been projected at that time, nor indeed 
 mentioned as in prospect until several years 
 later. 
 
 There is no reputable evidence that Poe ever 
 quitted his position on the staff of the " Gentle- 
 man's " at all; certain it is, that when, in the 
 latter part of the year 1840, Mr. George R. 
 Graham, proprietor of " The Casket," purchased 
 the "Gentleman's Magazine," and merged the 
 two into one under the tide of " Graham's Maga- 
 zine," Poe was retained as editor. With less re- 
 straint upon his pen, and a more liberal business 
 management, the new magazine speedily gained 
 in popularity, its subscription list, according to 
 some accounts, being increased to tenfold of that 
 of its predecessors, w^hich it combined. 
 
 These were, perhaps, the brightest days of the 
 poet's literary career. Mr. Graham w^as a con- 
 genial companion, sympathetic with Poe's tastes 
 and aspirations, and, in no small degree, was 
 able to minister to the material comforts of his 
 gifted co-laborer. Poe was then in such demand 
 that, although poorly paid, his industry secured 
 him a good living; and but for the illness of his 
 
THE POET'S HOME, 
 
 99 
 
 child-wife, upon whom the wasting ravages of her 
 malady had begun to do their work, he would 
 have been happy and comfortable. Griswold has 
 the decency to speak of Poe's home, which he 
 visited at this time, in terms that seem unaccount- 
 able coming from this source. He does not 
 neglect a fling at the poet's acknowledged mis- 
 fortune, but for a Griswoldism the allusion de- 
 serves to be admitted here by way of contrast : 
 
 "It was while he resided in Philadelphia that 
 I became acquainted with him. 
 
 " His manner, except during his fits of intoxica- 
 tion, was very quiet and gentlemanly. He was 
 usually dressed with simplicity and elegance, 
 and when once he sent for me to visit him, during 
 a period of illness caused by protracted and anx- 
 ious watching at the side of his sick wife, I was 
 impressed by the singular neatness and the air of 
 refinement in his home. 
 
 "It was in a small house in one of the pleas- 
 ant and silent neighborhoods far from the centre 
 of the town, and though slightly and cheaply 
 furnished, everything in it was so tasteful and so 
 fitly disposed that it seemed altogether suitable 
 for a man of genius." 
 
lOO LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 The residence described was a small brick 
 tenement in North Seventh street, in that part 
 of the cit}^ then known as Spring Garden. 
 
 The house was on the rear portion of the lot, 
 leaving a large vacant space in front, affording 
 Poe and his gentle invalid wife opportunity for 
 indulging their f enchant for plants and flowers. 
 
 "Mr. T. C. Clarke, nearly associated with Poe 
 at this time, writes, "Their little garden in 
 summer, and the house in winter, were over- 
 flowing with luxuriant grape and other vines, 
 and liberally ornamented with choice flowers of 
 the poet's selection. Poe was a pattern of social 
 and domestic worth. It was our happiness to 
 participate with them in the occasional enjoyment 
 of the beauty of the flowers, and to watch the 
 enthusiasm with which the fondly attached pair 
 exhibited their floral taste. Here, too, we were 
 wont to participate in the hospitality which al- 
 ways rendered Poe's home the home of his friends. 
 We call to mind some incidents in the pleas- 
 antly remembered intercourse that existed be- 
 tween the ladies of our families, especially in 
 the hours of sickness, which rendered so much 
 of Virginia's life a source of painful anxiety to 
 
THE POET'S HOME. lOl 
 
 all who had the pleasure of knowing her, and of 
 witnessing the gradual wasting away of her 
 fragile frame. 
 
 "But she was an exquisite picture of patient 
 loveliness, always wearing upon her beautiful 
 countenance the smile of resignation, and the 
 warm, even cheerful, look with which she ever 
 greeted her friends. 
 
 " How devotedly her husband loved the gentle 
 being, whose life was bound up in his own, is 
 touchingly illustrated in the Griswold description 
 of his visit which I have italicized. ^ He sent 
 for me to visit him during a -period of illness 
 caused hy protracted and anxious watching at 
 the side of his sick wife.^ 
 
 "This, coming from the malignant Griswold, is 
 an eloquent tribute to the kindly and tender 
 spirit of Poe, whose devotion no adversity, not 
 even the fiend that haunted him in the fatal cup, 
 could warp or lessen, and this attachment, in- 
 tense as it was on the part of the poet, was 
 equally strong and enduring in the soul of his 
 'Annabel Lee,' his gentle mate, whose affection 
 that poem so touchingly and sadly commemo- 
 rates. 
 
I02 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 
 
 'And this maiden, she loved with no other thought 
 Than to love and be loved bj me.' 
 
 "'She was a child,' smgs the poem ; and indeed 
 Poe himself was little else in the every-day per- 
 plexities and responsibilities of hfe. Of Virginia's 
 playful, child-like buoyancy of spirit, I may men- 
 tion an incident which, though trifling in itself, 
 shows the keen zest with which she enjoyed little 
 trifles which others might have regarded as annoy- 
 ing or impertinent. 
 
 "Our little daughter, passing the day with her 
 favorite friend, enlivened the hours with her 
 childish songs. 
 
 " There was one which she hinted knowledge 
 of, but positively refused to sing, and it was not 
 until after repeated solicitations from Virginia 
 that the child ventured upon 
 
 * I never would be married and be called Mistress Poe, Goody 
 Poe, &c. 
 
 "'Mistress Poe' received the song with peal 
 upon peal of laughter, and insisted, in her exu- 
 berance of spirits, on having the homely melody 
 repeated. 
 
 "Upon parting, Virginia gave the child a keep- 
 sake, which the recipient, no longer a child, 
 
THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE. 103 
 
 now cherishes in memory of the fair and gentle 
 donor. 
 
 "On leaving Philadelphia for New York, 
 when breaking up their simple, fairy-like home, 
 we were favored with some of their pet flowers, 
 whicii, preserved and framed, remain in our 
 household to this day as interesting relics of those 
 happy days with Edgar and Virginia." 
 
 During his engagement on " Graham's," which 
 lasted about fifteen months, Poe wrote most of 
 his best stories and many critiques, reviews and 
 essays, fully establishing his reputation as a 
 writer, spite of the fact that most of his writing 
 was far in advance of the age in which he lived, 
 and above the comprehension of the mass of the 
 liteiary public of that time. 
 
 / In "Graham's " for April, 1841, appeared "The 
 Murders in the Rue Morgue," the first of those 
 wonderful analytic tales in the conception and 
 evolving of which Poe has never been equalled, 
 although persistently imitated, especially by mod- 
 ern French romancers. This story, indeed, 
 served to introduce the poet to the French public, 
 in a manner that amply justified the author in his 
 frequent charges of plagiarism against his con- 
 temporaries. 
 
I04 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE, 
 
 The anecdote is not new, but it is good enough 
 to bear a repetition in this place. 
 > The author's grotesque conception, as is well 
 known to those who have read the tale, fixes the 
 murder upon a fugitive orang-outang, who had 
 been detected by his master in the act of shaving 
 himself, and escaped with the razor in hand. 
 
 One of the Parisian journals, ^^ La Commercc^^ 
 "cribs" and translates the story from "Graham's" 
 without credit, and it, in turn, is served up as a 
 novelty by a writer in ^^ La ^lotidicnner under 
 the appropriate title, ^' L' Orang-Otang ;'' a third 
 party incautiously charges "Z^ ^lotidienne'^ of 
 a plagiarism from " La Commerce ^^ and in the 
 course of the examination it comes out, that to 
 the American writer only belongs the honor of 
 the composition of the story. ''L'Lntr'' Acle," 
 another Parisian journal, in its issue of the 20th 
 of October, 1846, gave an exceedingly amusing 
 account of the absurd contretemps between its 
 contemporaries, complimenting Poe, of whom it 
 speaks as " un gaillard bien Jin ct bien sfiri- 
 tiieiy 
 
 This controversy naturally resulted in bring- 
 ing Poe's name prominently before the French 
 
BAUDELAIRE ON ORIS WOLD. 
 
 05 
 
 reading world, and commendatory critiques were 
 at this time published in the ^^ Revue des Deux 
 Mondesi' and other leading journals, while Ma- 
 dame Isabelle Meunier translated others of his 
 stories for the periodicals. It was reserved for 
 Charles Baudelaire, however, to first discover 
 the poet's genius, and to immortalize it in France 
 by his exquisitely sympathetic and faithful trans- 
 lations. It was Baudelaire, too, who among 
 foreign writers first denounced the mendacities 
 of Griswold, and held him up to the gaze of the 
 French admirers of Poe in his true colors. 
 Speaking of the biographers of Poe, Baudelaire 
 writes, " Some, uniting the dullest unintelligence 
 of his genius to the ferocity of the hypocritical 
 trading class, have insulted him to the upper- 
 most, after his untimely end, rudely hectoring his 
 poor speechless corpse, particularly Mr. Rufus 
 W. Griswold, the -pedagogue vamfire^ who has 
 defamed his friend at full length, in an enormous 
 article, wearisome and crammed with hatred, 
 which was prefixed to the posthumous editions 
 of Poe's w^orks. Are there then no regulations 
 in America to keep the curs out of the ceme- 
 teries?" 
 
Io6 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 7^ In May, 1841, appeared in the "Saturday 
 Evening Post," of Piiiladelpliia, Poe's celebrated 
 ■prophetic analysis of Dickens' ''Barnaby Rudge." 
 From the initial chapters of the stor}^, Poe de- 
 duced the entire plot and predicted the actual 
 denouement. 
 
 Dickens, in his first visit to America, took 
 occasion admiringly to confirm the entire accu- 
 racy of the poet's analysis. 
 
 Early in 1842 appeared the now famous "De- 
 scent into the Maelstrom." In November of the 
 same year " The Mystery of Marie Roget " was 
 published in "Graham's." 
 
 The story was another triumph for Poe's ana- 
 lytic power. 
 7<, This story was founded upon the incident of 
 the murder of a young girl, which took place 
 while Poe was residing in New York. Her 
 death, the poet tells us, occasioned a long-con- 
 tinued excitement, and the mystery attending it 
 had remained unsolved at the period when the 
 story was written and published. 
 
 In his note, appended to the edition of his tales 
 published during his lifetime, Poe writes, "^The 
 Mystery of Marie Roget ' was composed at a 
 
THE PURLOINED LETTER. 107 
 
 distance from the scene of the atrocity, and with 
 no other means of investigation than the news- 
 papers afforded. 
 
 "Thus, much escaped the writer, of which he 
 could have availed himself had he been upon the 
 spot and visited the localities. It may not be 
 improper to record, nevertheless, that the con- 
 fession of tivo persons (one of them the Madame 
 Delue of the narrative) , made at different peri- 
 ods, long subsequent to the publication, confirmed 
 in full, not only the general conclusion, but abso- 
 lutely all the chief hypothetical details by which 
 that conclusion was attained." 
 
 Although less satisfactory, as a story, from the 
 fact that the following-out of the clue was for pru- 
 dential reasons omitted, the "Mystery of Marie 
 Roget," as a representative study of the poet's 
 method, a method flawless in its way, and alto- 
 gether sui generis^ it affords a most satisfactory 
 example. 
 
 "The Purloined Letter," a sequence to "Marie 
 Roget," and constructed in the same vein, was 
 published shortly afterwards, and "The Prema- 
 ture Burial" appeared at this time. 
 
 It was durinsc Poe's connection with "Gra- 
 
lo8 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 ham's," too, that he wrote the papers on "Autog- 
 raphy," with their prophetic analj'ses, after the 
 method of Lavater, as well as his papers on 
 "Cryptology," in which he claimed that no crj^p- 
 tograph could be constructed by human inge- 
 nuity which human ingenuity could not un- 
 ravel. 
 
 Concerning this theory, Griswold sneers " a 
 not very dangerous proposition, since it implied 
 no capacity in himself to discover every riddle 
 of this kind that should be invented." 
 
 Griswol^admits, however, that " he succeeded 
 with several difficult cryptographs that were sent 
 to him." 
 
 He does not add that Poe never failed to solve 
 any cryptograph of the enormous number sent to 
 him ; but such is the fact, — a fact which does not 
 excuse the deplorable waste of time and talents 
 upon such a fancy. 
 
 But Poe's critical animus frequently carried 
 him beyond the boundaries of reason. He was, 
 unquestionably, lacking in the balance and 
 concentration that would have repressed such 
 profitless deflections, the effect of which is exhib- 
 ited in the uneven quality of his verse, of which 
 Oliver Wendell Holmes says, that in the works 
 
GRISWOLD'S CONFESSION OF FACTS, i 
 
 09 
 
 of no other poet is there exhibited such a differ- 
 ence in quality, as exists between the best and 
 the worst of Poe's compositions. 
 
 To Poe belongs the honor of discovering and 
 first introducing to the American public the 
 genius of Elizabeth Barrett Browning; and it 
 Avas at this time, while conducting "Graham's," 
 that many of this author's verses were contrib- 
 uted to its pages. 
 
 Shortly after the publication of "The Pur- 
 loined Letter," in 1842, Poe withdrew from 
 "Graham's" under circumstances which indicate 
 that Griswold's statement that the most friendly 
 relations existed between him and Poe is false, 
 and that the letters published by Griswold as 
 written to him by Poe were fabrications. 
 
 Speaking of the severing of Poe's connection 
 with "Graham's Magazine, " Dr. Griswold writes, 
 " The infirmities which induced his separation 
 from Mr. White and Mr. Burton at length com- 
 pelled Mr. Graham to find another editor ; " and 
 also in the same connection, "It is kiiown that 
 the personal ill-will on both sides was such that 
 for some four or five years not a line by Poe was 
 -purchased for 'Graham's Magazine.'" The 
 italics are Dr. Griswold's. He evidently believes 
 
no LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOR. 
 
 with Chiysos, the art-patron in W. S. Gilbert's 
 
 play of "Pygmalion and Galatea, " that when a 
 
 f 
 person tells a lie he "should tell it well. " 
 
 Mr. Graham, from whom the magazine was 
 named, is now living, and when we last saw 
 him, December, 1873, he was in excellent health. 
 We were then, of course, intent upon securing 
 data in regard to the life of Poe ; and in a con- 
 versation wdth Mr. Graham, some peculiarly sig- 
 nificant facts touching Griswold's veracity in par- 
 ticular were elicited. 
 
 Mr. Graham states that Poe never quarrelled 
 with him ; never was discharged ivom. " Graham's 
 Magazine ; " and that during the " four or five 
 years " italicized by Dr. Griswold as indicating 
 the personal ill-w^ill between IMr. Poe and Mr. 
 Graham, oxQvJi/ty articles by Poe were accepted 
 by Mr. Graham. 
 
 The facts of Mr. Poe's secession from " Gra- 
 ham's " were as follows : — 
 
 Mr. Poe was, from illness or other causes, ab- 
 sent for a short time from his post on the maga- 
 zine. Mr. Graham had, meanwhile, made a 
 temporary arrangement with Dr. Griswold to act 
 as Poe's substitute until his return. Poe came 
 
A PER TINE NT A NE CD O TE. n i 
 
 back unexpectedly, and, seeing Griswold in his 
 chair, turned on his heel without a word, and left 
 the office, nor could he be persuaded to enter it 
 again, although, as stated, he sent frequent con- 
 tributions thereafter to the pages of the maga- 
 zine. 
 
 The following pertinent anecdote, related to us 
 by Mr. Graham, well illustrates the character of 
 Poe's biographer. Dr. Griswold's associate in 
 his editorial duties on " Graham's " was Mr. 
 Charles J. Peterson, a gentleman long and favor- 
 ably known in connection with prominent Amer- 
 ican magazines. Jealous of his abilities, and un- 
 able to visit his vindictiveness upon him in -pro- 
 fr'ia persona^ Dr. Griswold conceived the noble 
 design of stabbing him in the back, writing un- 
 der a nom deplume in another journal, the " New 
 York Review. " In the columns of the " Review " 
 there appeared a most scurrilous attack upon Mr. 
 Peterson, at the very time in the daily interchange 
 of friendly courtesies with his treacherous asso- 
 ciate. Unluckily for Dr. Griswold, Mr. Graham 
 saw this article, and, immediately inferring, from 
 its tone, that Griswold was the undoubted author, 
 went to him with the article in his hand, saying, 
 
112 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 "Dr. Griswold, I am very sorry to say I have de- 
 tected you in what I call a piece of rascality." 
 Griswold turned all colors upon seeing the article, 
 but stoutly denied the imputation, saying, "I'll 
 go before an alderman and swear that I never 
 wrote it." It was fortunate that he was not com- 
 pelled to add perjury to his meanness, for Mr. 
 Graham said no more about the matter at that 
 time, waiting his opportunity for authoritative 
 confirmation of the truth of his surmises. He 
 soon found his conjectures confirmed to the letter. 
 Being well acquainted with the editor of the 
 " Review, " he took occasion to call upon him 
 shortly afterwards when in New York. Asking 
 as a special favor to see the manuscript of the ar- 
 ticle in question, it was handed to him. The 
 writing was in Griswold's hand. 
 
 Returning to Philadelphia, Mr. Graham called 
 Griswold to him, told him the facts, paid him a 
 month's salary in advance, and dismissed him 
 from his post, on the spot. 
 
 So it becomes evident that the memory of Poe's 
 biographer, confused upon the point of his dis- 
 charge from "Graham's," has saddled Poe with 
 
THE STYLUS. 113 
 
 the humiliation and disgrace that alone belonged 
 to him. 
 
 Freed from his responsibilities upon "Gra^ 
 ham's," Poe seems to have bent his energies upon 
 realizing the dream of his life, the establishment 
 of an independent monthly magazine. His plaus 
 found favor with influential parties, and a circular 
 was issued and partially distributed, inviting the 
 attention of the public to the new enterprise, the 
 title of which was to be the " Penn Magazine ;" 
 but Poe, spite of his extraordinary analytical 
 powers, was an inefficient business man, and the 
 new venture proved but "a flash in the pan," and 
 the "Penn Magazine" never came to be. The 
 idea, however, was still rife in the poefs mind, 
 and, under different auspices, he again essayed 
 its realization. 
 
 " To have a magazine of his own," writes Han- 
 nay, "which he could manage as he pleased, 
 was always the great ambition of his life. It was 
 the chimera which he nursed, the castle in the 
 air which he loncred for, the rainbow of his cloudv 
 hopes." 
 
 Poe invented a new title, selected a motto and 
 designed a heading, — a copy of which, engraved 
 
11^ LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 from the original clra\Ying by the poet, is given 
 on the next page. 
 
 The first pubHc announcement of this new ven- 
 ture, which was to be called "The Stylus," was 
 made in the columns of the "Museum" of Mr. 
 Clarke, Poe's co-partner in the enterprise. We 
 make the following extract, preluding the pros- 
 pectus of the magazine, which, as embodying 
 the poet's original theories of his ideal magazine, 
 is of sufficient interest to warrant the reproduc- 
 tion here in its entiret}^ : — 
 
 "It has often been a subject for wonder that 
 with the pre-eminent success which has attended 
 bis editorial efforts, INIr. Poe has never established 
 a magazine, in Vvdiich he should have more than a 
 collateral interest ; and we are now happy to learn 
 that such is, at length, his intention. By refer- 
 ence to another page of our paper, it will be seen 
 that he has issued the Prospectus of a Monthly, 
 to be entitloil "The Stylus," for which, it is 
 needless to sa3% we predict the most unequivocal 
 success. In so saying, we but endorse the opin- 
 ion of every literary man in the countr}-, and 
 fully agree with Fitz Greene Halleck, that, how- 
 ever eminent may be the contributors engaged, 
 
THE STYLUS. 115 
 
 it is, after all, on his own fine taste, sound judg- 
 ment and great general ability for the task, that 
 the public will place the firmest reliance." 
 
 PROSPECTUS OF THE STYLUS. 
 To BE Edited by Edgar A. Poe. 
 
 unbending^ that all men 
 
 Of thy firm Truth may say — " Lo ! this is writ 
 With the antique /r(77i/<?H." 
 
 — Laiincelot Canning, 
 
 To t/ie Public. — The Prospectus of a Monthly Journal, to 
 have been called "The Penn Magazine," has already been 
 partially circulated. Circumstances in which the public have 
 no interest, induced a suspension of the project, which is now, 
 under the best auspices, resumed, with no other modification 
 than that of the title. "The Penn Magazine," it has been 
 thought, was a name somewhat too local in its suggestions, 
 and "The Stylus" has been finally adopted. 
 
 It has become obvious, indeed, to even the most unthinking, 
 
Il6 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 that the period has at length arrived Avhen a journal of the 
 character here proposed, is demanded and vill be sustained. 
 The late movements on the great question of International 
 Copyright are but an index of the universal disgust excited 
 by what is quaintly termed the cl>.ca;p literature of the day, — 
 as if that which is utterly worthless in itself can be cheap at 
 any price under the sun. 
 
 "The Stylus" will include about one hundred royal-octavo 
 pages, in single column, per month, forming two thick vol- 
 umes per year. In its mechanical appearance — in its typogra- 
 phy, paper and binding — it will far surpass all Am.erican 
 journals of its kind. Engravings, when used, will be in the 
 highest style of art, but are promised only in obvious illus- 
 tration of the text, and in strict keeping with the Magazine 
 character. Upon application to the proprietors, by any agent 
 of repute who may desire the work, or by any other individ- 
 ual who may feel interested, a specimen sheet will be forward- 
 ed. As, for many reasons, it is inexpedient to commence a 
 journal of this kind at any other period than the beginning or 
 middle of the year, the first number of "The Stylus" will not 
 be regularly issued until the first of July, 1S43. 
 
 The necessity for any very rigid definition of the literary 
 character or aims of " The Stylus" is, in some measure, ob- 
 viated by the general knowledge, on the part of the public, 
 of the editor's connection, formerly, with the two most suc- 
 cessful periodicals in the country — "The Southern Literary 
 Messenger" and "Graham's Magazine." Having no propri- 
 etary right, however, in either of these journals, his objects, 
 too, being in many respects at variance with those of their 
 very worthy owners, he found it not only impossible to effect 
 anything, on the score of taste, for the mechanical appearance 
 
THE STYLUS, 1 17 
 
 of the works, but exceedingly difTicult, also, to stamp upon 
 their internal character that indiznduality which he believes 
 essential to the full success of all similar publications. In 
 regard to their extensive and permanent influence, it appears 
 to him that continuity, definitiveness, and a marked certainty 
 of purpose ai-e requisites of vital importance ; and he cannot 
 help thinking that these requisites are attainable only where 
 a single mind has at least the geytcral direction of the enter- 
 prise. Experience, in a word, has distinctly shown him — 
 what, indeed, might have been demonstrated a friori — that 
 in founding a Magazine wherein his interest should be not 
 merely editorial, lies his sole chance of carrying out to com- 
 pletion whatever peculiar intentions he may have entertained. 
 In many important points, then, the new journal will differ 
 widely from either of those named. It will endeavor to be, at 
 the same time, more varied and movQum'que, — more vigorous, 
 more pungent, more original, more individual, and more in- 
 dependent. It will discuss not only the Belles-Lettres, but, 
 very thoroughly the Fine Arts, with the Drama ; and, more 
 in brief, will give each month a Retrospect of our Political 
 History. It will enlist the loftiest talent, but employ it not 
 always in the loftiest — at least, not always in the most pom- 
 pous or Puritanical — way. It will aim at affording a fair and 
 not dishonorable field for the true intellect of the land, with- 
 out reference to the mere ;prestige of celebrated names. It 
 will support the general interests of the Republic of Letters, 
 and insist upon regarding the world at large as the sole proper 
 audience for the author. It will resist the dictation of For- 
 eign Reviews. It will eschew the stilted dulness of our own 
 Qiiarterlies, and while it may^ if necessary, be no less learned, 
 will deem it wiser to be less anonymous, and difficult to be 
 more dishonest, than they. 
 
Ii8 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 An important feature of the work, and one which will be 
 introduced in the opening number, will be a series of Critt- 
 ca/ and B{ogra;phical Sketches oi Ainerica7i Writers. These 
 Sketches will be accompanied with full-length and character- 
 istic portraits ; will include every person of literarj note in 
 America ; and will investigate carefully, and with rigorous im- 
 partiality, the individual claims of each. 
 
 It shall, in fact, be the chief purpose of ''The Stylus" to 
 become known as a journal wnerein may be found, at all 
 times, upon all subjects within its legitimate reach, a sincere 
 and fearless opinion. It shall be a leading object to assert 
 in precept, and to maintain in practice, the rights, while in 
 effect it demonstrates the advantages, of an absolutely inde- 
 pendent criticism ; — a criticism self-sustained; guiding itself 
 only by the purest rules of Art; analyzing and urging these 
 rules as it applies them ; holding itself aloof from all per- 
 sonal bias; and acknowledging no fear save that of outraging 
 the Right. CLARKE & POE. 
 
 In furtherance of the new enterprise, Poe un- 
 fortunately visited Washington. Furnished with 
 the necessary funds, he supposed that his per- 
 sonal intimacy with the sons of the President, if 
 not his own talents, would enable him to secure 
 the names of the members of the Cabinet and 
 those of other prominent personages in the Capi- 
 tal, with which to place the new literary project 
 more prominently before the public. But sad 
 disappointment awaited his cherished hopes. 
 
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THE STYLUS. 119 
 
 What harshness or unsympathetic reception 
 attended his sanguine expectations was never 
 definitely known, even by his co-laborer, Mr. 
 Clarke. That he did not receive the welcome at 
 the hands of President Tyler that he had rea- 
 sonably anticipated, is certain, and there is little 
 reason to doubt that his failure to secure the in- 
 fluential support so essential to his material suc- 
 cess was mainly due to the jealous, unappreciative 
 atmosphere of the polidcians among whom he 
 vainly worked. The spheres of literature and 
 politics were at that era more antagonistic even 
 than in the present time ; and his delicate, sensi- 
 tive nature was called upon to receive rebuffs 
 which only the horny hide of the hack politician 
 is fitted to bear with equanimity. 
 
 In his endeavor to stem the tide of conflicting 
 circumstances, the poet, forced in Rome to be a 
 Roman, committed his characteristically fatal 
 mistake in trusting to a strength which he did not 
 possess, with the inevitable result, as the follow- 
 ing letters to Mr. Clarke only too clearly evidence. 
 
 The first is from the poet himself, and its con- 
 flicting statements and unsteady penmanship (a 
 fac-simile of which we give) , in which the writ- 
 
I20 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 er's characteristically clean-cut chirography iy 
 totally unrecognizable, plainly tell the story of 
 the unfortunate condition of the author. 
 
 Washington, INIarch ii, 1843. 
 
 Mj Dear Sir, — I write merely to inforni jou of my well- 
 doing, for, so far, I have done nothing. 
 
 My friend Thomas, upon whom I depended, is sick. I sup- 
 pose he will be well in a few days. In the mean time I shall 
 have to do the best I can. 
 
 I have not seen the President yet. 
 
 My expenses were more than I thought they would be, al- 
 though I have economized in every respect, and this delay 
 (Thomas being sick) puts me out sadly. Hoxvever, all is 
 going right. I have got the subscriptions of all the depart- 
 ments, President, &c. I believe that I am Vi\:ik\u^ a sensatiofi 
 which will tend to the benefit of the magazine. 
 
 Day after to-morrow I am to lecture. Rob. Tyler is to give 
 
 me an article, also Upsher. Send me $10 by mail as soon ac 
 
 you get this. I am grieved to ask you for money in this way, 
 
 but you will find your account in it twice over. 
 
 Very ivnly yours, 
 
 Edgar A. Poe. 
 Thos. C. Clarke, Esq. 
 
 This was followed, on the succeeding day, by 
 a letter from Mr. J. E. Dow, at that time editor 
 of the " Dail}^ Madisonian," a Tyler organ : — 
 
 Washington, March 12, 1S43. 
 Dear Sir, — I deem it to be my bounden duty to write you 
 this hurried letter in relation to our mutual friend E.A.P. 
 

 
 
 i;-T ;i 
 
 
THE STYLUS. I2i 
 
 He arrived here a few days since. On the first evening he 
 seemed somewhat excited, having been over-persuaded to take 
 some Port wine. 
 
 On the second day he kept pretty steady, but since then he 
 has been, at intervals, quite unreliable. 
 
 He exposes himself here to those who may injure him very 
 much with the President, and thus prevents us from doing for 
 him what we wish to do and what we can do if he is himself 
 again in Philadelphia. He does not understand the ways of 
 politicians, nor the manner of dealing with them to advan- 
 tage. How should he.-* 
 
 Mr. Thomas is not well and cannot go home with Mr. P. 
 My business and the health of my family will prevent me 
 from so doing. 
 
 Under all the circumstances of the case, I think it advisable 
 for you to come on and see him safely back to his home. 
 Mrs. Poe is in a bad state of health, and I charge you, as you 
 have a soul to be saved, to say not one word to her about 
 him until he arrives with you. I shall expect you or an an- 
 swer to this letter by return of mail. 
 
 Should you not come, we will see him on board the cars 
 bound to Phila., but we fear he might be detained in Balti- 
 more and not be out of harm's way. 
 
 I do this under a solemn responsibility. Mr. Poe has the 
 highest order of intellect, and I cannot bear that he should be 
 the sport of senseless creatures who, like oysters, keep sober, 
 and gape and swallow everything. 
 
 I think your good judgment will tell you what course you 
 ought to pursue in this matter, and I cannot think it will be 
 necessary to let him know that I have written you this letter; 
 
122 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 but T cannot suffer him to injure himself here Avithout giving 
 
 you this warning. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 J. E. Dow. 
 
 To Thomas C. Clarke, Esq., 
 
 Philadelphia, Pa. 
 
 The enterprise languished from this time, and, 
 like its predecessor in the same path, died ere it 
 was yet born. But whatever may have been the 
 disappointment and chagrin of Poe and his co- 
 laborer Clarke, there was no "quarrel," as stated 
 by Griswold, and reiterated by the poet's London 
 biographer. 
 
 Mr. Clarke continued in intimate and friendly 
 relations with the poet. 
 
 Apropos of the alleged quarrel, Islx. Clarke 
 writes in a manuscript letter before us, "With 
 Poe I had no quarrel, and I make this statement 
 here because the London editor of his poems, 
 under the influence of Griswold's text, says, 
 'As a matter of course, he quarrelled and then 
 went to New York.' All this is unjust and un- 
 generous, and it is painful to see that really mag- 
 nificent edition of the poems thus disfigured. 
 
 "Poor Poe, however harsh he may have been in 
 his vocation of critic, for he was made wretched 
 
T. C. CLARKE'S TESTIMONT. 
 
 123 
 
 by any Imperfection of art, personally quarrelled 
 with no one, but was a genial, generous friend, 
 invariably kind and gentlemanly to all. How 
 utterly inexcusable in the London editor is the 
 picturing of Poe as deficient in the sense of moral 
 rectitude, and then, after deploring faults that 
 exist only in the editor's imagination and Gris- 
 wold's mendacities, to attempt, from the poet's 
 writings, to reason us into the belief that all these 
 fancied crimes were the ' legitimate results of an 
 inborn, innate depravity.' 
 
 " This goes a step beyond the suggestion of the 
 poet's New York biographer (Griswold) that Poe 
 was * naturally of an unamiable disposition;' 
 but, as if exulting in the clearness of his own 
 perceptions, the ill-informed critic ver}^ com- 
 placently concludes that with this key to the 
 character of the poet, there is no difliculty in fully 
 comprehending the strange inconsistencies, the 
 baseness and nobleness which his wayward life 
 exhibits. It is deeply to be regretted that any 
 American memoir of the poet should ever have 
 gone forth to the world capable of creating the 
 false estimate, the unjust, because erroneous, im- 
 pressions which have so prejudiced not only this, 
 
124 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 but every foreign writer who has undertaken the 
 review of Mr. Poe." 
 
 This testimony of one of the few contempo- 
 raries of Poe, best calculated by intimate and 
 long-continued association with him to judge, not 
 only of his true character, but of the reliability of 
 the published memoirs of the poet, has a signifi- 
 cance that entitles it to an important place in our 
 transcript of the history of Poe's life. 
 
 During Poe's connection with Mr. Clarke, he 
 completed an important prose work — a story 
 which was to have been published serially in 
 "The Stylus." 
 
 Having expended the money advanced by Mr. 
 Clarke for necessary preliminary expenses, he, 
 upon the failure of the enterprise, left it with his 
 co-partner in the magazine, as security for the 
 amount used until he should be able to reclaim 
 it for subsequent use in his chimerical monthly 
 magazine, the idea of which, upon his part, he 
 had by no means abandoned, as will be evident 
 in later pages of our memoir. 
 
 Circumstances, however, combined to prevent 
 its reclamation by the author, and Mr. Clarke, 
 after Poe's death, retained the MS. of the story, 
 
FIRST APPEARANCE AS A LECTURER. 135 
 
 designing to append it to the memoir of the poet, 
 which he began but never completed. 
 
 Following the failure of "The Stylus," Poe, 
 in the summer of the same year, 1843, visited 
 Baldmore, and there made his first appearance 
 in the rostrum, and on the 25th of the following 
 November, having returned to Philadelphia for 
 the same purpose, he came out there in the role 
 of lecturer for the first time. Of this perform- 
 ance Mr Clarke writes in "The Museum," — 
 
 " Qiiite a large, and certainly highly intelligent 
 audience, attended the lecture on American 
 Poetry, delivered by Edgar A. Poe, Esq., on 
 Tuesday evening, before the William Wirt Lit- 
 erary Institute. We have not leisure this week 
 to give even a brief outline of the lecture, the 
 character of which maybe inferred from the rep- 
 utation which Mr. Poe has so extensively enjoyed 
 as a severe and impartial critic. Added to this 
 important qualification the fact of the lecturer 
 himself possessing talents as a poet of a high 
 order, and therefore capable of more truly ap- 
 preciating his subject, with great analytical pow- 
 er, and that command of language and strength 
 of voice which enables a speaker to give full ex- 
 
126 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 pression to whatever he may desire to say, it will 
 readily be perceived that the lecturer on Tues- 
 day evening combined qualities which are rarely 
 associated in a public speaker. With the excep- 
 tion of some occasional severity, which, however 
 merited, may have appeared somewhat too per- 
 sonal, the lecture gave general satisfaction, es- 
 pecially the portions in which the eloquent 
 sonnets of Judge Conrad, on the Lord's 
 Prayer, were introduced. The judicious read- 
 ing of these created a marked sensation. 
 
 " We hear it suggested that an attempt will be 
 made to prevail on Mr. Poe to re-deliver this lec- 
 ture in a more central place in the city. With 
 some modification, it would bear repetition, and we 
 dare say, the press will unite in forwarding these 
 views, notwithstanding the cool manner in which 
 Mr. P. laid bare its system of almost universal 
 and indiscriminate eulogy, bestowed alike upon 
 anything and everything — 'from the most elab- 
 orate quarto of Noah Webster, down to a penny 
 edition of Tom Thumb.'" 
 
 During this year (1843) "The Dollar Maga- 
 zine " offered a prize of one hundred dollars for a 
 prose story, for which Poe was the successful com- 
 
FIRST APPEARANCE AS A LECTURER. 127 
 
 petitor, offering his ingenious " cipher " tale, " The 
 Gold Bug," which is now probably the most 
 popular of the author's stories in his native coun- 
 try. He also wrote for " Lowell's Pioneer," 
 "The Museum," a Baltimore monthly, conducted 
 by Rev. N. C. Brooks, and other journals* 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 CAREER IN NEW YORK. 
 1S44 — 1846. 
 
 On "The Saturday Museum" — Engagement on the *' Min-or" 
 
 — Testimony of the Poet Willis — First Anonymous Publi- 
 cation of "The Raven" — The Authorship revealed by 
 Poe's Recitation at a Soiree — Mrs. Browning's Commen- 
 dation — Conflicting Opinions as to its Origin — Gilfillan's 
 Malevolent Recklessness — The Americans of a Qiiarter of 
 a Century ago — Poe's Intentional Concealment of Motive 
 
 — Personal Romances — Testimony of Intimate Personal 
 Friends — Discrepancy of the Poet's Reading of " The Ra- 
 ven " with his Printed Analysis of it— Origin of Imagina- 
 tive Compositions — Anecdote of Beethoven — The Clue to 
 " The Raven " — Analysis of " The Raven " — Where "The 
 Raven " was written — Mrs. Brennan's Reminiscences — 
 The " Raven" Room — Insufficient Revenue of the Poet — 
 Price paid for "The Raven"— J. R. Lowell's Criticism — 
 Lecture in Boston — The Poet's T^Iischievous Propensity 
 
 — Griswold's Ridiculous Charges — Reply to Boston Criti- 
 cisms— E. P. Whipple's Testimony — The Poet's Social 
 Life — Character of Intellect — Conversational Powers — 
 Mrs. Osgood's Impressions — Failure with " The Broadway 
 Journal" — "Literati "Papers — The Dum-English Qiiarrcl 
 
 — The Garbling of Poe's Work by Griswold. 
 
 N the spring of 1843, Poe accepted an 
 offer from "The Saturday Museum," to 
 become associate editor of that journal. 
 Several of his notable book reviews appeared 
 
 ri2S) 
 
ON THE SATURDAY MUSEUM. 129 
 
 in the pages of this periodical, and his life, giving 
 a brief but faithful sketch of the poet, was pub- 
 lished in its columns, with selections from his 
 writings, w^hich, designedly, omitted the juvenile 
 verses, which are presented in some of the familiar 
 editions of his works. This " Life," which Gris- 
 wold declined to use in the preparation of his 
 memoir, was written by Mr. T. C. Clarke, and 
 a copy, with corrections on the margin by the 
 poet himself, ha3 been of great value to us in 
 settling disputed points. In the autumn of 1844 
 the poet removed to New York. 
 
 The metropolis was not then the great centre 
 for periodical publications that it has come to be 
 now, and Poe found but scanty return for his 
 efforts, while his position was necessarily humbler 
 than that wdiich he had occupied as editor-in-chief 
 of " Graham's." 
 
 To eke out his slender means, he accepted, in 
 the autumn of this year, a subordinate position 
 upon " The Mirror," a daily journal conducted 
 by N. P. Willis and George Morris. 
 
 The poet Willis, alluding to his connection 
 with ^'The Mirror," writes, — 
 
 "Some four or five 3^ears since, v/lien editing a 
 daily paper in this city, Mr. Poe was emploj^ed 
 by us, for several months, as critic and sub-editor. 
 
130 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 This was our first personal acquaintance with 
 him. He resided with his wife and mother at 
 Fordham, a few miles out of town, but was at 
 his desk in the ofiice from nine in the morning till 
 the evening paper went to press. With the high- 
 est admiration for his genius, and a wilHngness 
 to let it atone for more than ordinar}^ irregularity, 
 we were led by common report to expect a very 
 capricious attention to his duties, and occasionally 
 a scene of violence and difficulty. Time went 
 on, however, and he was invariably punctual and 
 industrious. With his pale, beautiful and intel- 
 lectual face as a reminder of what genius was in 
 him, it was impossible, of course, not to treat him 
 alwa3's with deferential courtesy, and, to our oc- 
 casional request that he would not probe too deep 
 in a criticism, or that he would erase a passage 
 colored too highly with his resentments against 
 society and mankind, he readily and courteously 
 assented — far more 3'ielding than most men, we 
 thought, on points so excusably sensitive. W^ith 
 a prospect of taking the lead in another periodi- 
 cal, he, at last, voluntarily gave up his employ- 
 ment vvith us, and through all this considerable 
 period, we had seen but one presentment o( the 
 
PUBLICATION OF THE RAVEN. 131 
 
 man — a quiet, patient, industrious and most gen- 
 tlemanly person, commanding the utmost respect 
 and good feeling by his unvarying deportment 
 and ability."* 
 
 Poe was engaged upon " The Mirror " for six 
 months, and during this time, in addition to his 
 "fag" work upon the paper, he produced several 
 of his most remarkable works, notably his master- 
 piece in poetry, "The Raven," which was first pub- 
 lished in the February number of " The American 
 Review," over the nom de fhime of " QiiarlesV 
 and immediately arrested general attention. 
 
 Poe had at this time the entree of the select 
 social circle of the metropolis, and frequently at- 
 tended, sometimes with his fair young wife, the 
 weekly receptions held at the residence of a prom- 
 inent poetess in Waverly place. At one of these 
 soirees^ at the request of the accomplished hostess, 
 he recited "The Raven, " with an effect that fairly 
 electrified the assemblage. From this time the 
 authorship of the poem, of course, became known, 
 and the laurel leaves of fame were showered 
 thickly upon the hitherto comparatively unap- 
 preciated author. 
 
 * We give in facsimile an autograph letter written by 
 Willis to Poe at this time, attesting the kindly, familiar rela- 
 tions existing between them. 
 
133 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE, 
 
 Mr. Willis reprinted the poem over Poe's 
 name, and gave it a send-off in the following en- 
 thusiastic words: "We regard it as the most 
 effective single example of fugitive poetry ever 
 published in this country, and it is unsurpassed 
 in English poetry for subtle conception, masterly 
 ingenuity of versification, and consistent sustain- 
 inof of imaginative lift." 
 
 Mrs. Browning, in a private letter written a 
 few weeks after its publication in England, saj's, 
 " This weird writing, this power which is /elt, 
 has produced a sensation here in England. Some 
 of my friends are taken by the fear of it, and 
 some by the music. I hear of persons who are 
 haunted by the ' Nevermore,' and an acquaint- 
 ance of mine who has the misfortune of possess- 
 ing a bust of Pallas cannot bear to look at it in the 
 twilight. Then there is a tale going the rounds 
 of the newspapers about mesmerism,* which is 
 tin-owing us all into ' most admired disorder ' — 
 dreadful doubts as to whether it can be true, as 
 the children say of ghost stones. The certain 
 thing about it is the power of the winter." 
 
 One of Poe's relentless biographers, evidently 
 
 * " The Facts in the Case of M. dc Valdemar." 
 
CONFLICTING OPINIONS. 133 
 
 referring to the source of the inspiration of " The 
 Raven," has presumed recklessly to write that his 
 wife Virginia died a victim to the neglect and 
 unkindness of her husband, "who," he writes, 
 " deliberately sought her death that he might em- 
 balm her memory in immortal dirges." 
 
 Other winters have reiterated this cruel fabri- 
 cation, and Gilfillan, fiendishly ascribing to the 
 poet passions controlled by the presence of art 
 until they resembled sculptured flame, writes that 
 he caused the death of his wife that he might 
 have a fittincr theme for "The Raven." As the 
 lamented Virginia died more than a year after the 
 publication of "The Raven," this ingenious 
 theory, it appears, rests upon a purely imaginary 
 basis. 
 
 As it is well known that Poe was very tena- 
 cious of his Hterary reputation, and acutely ap- 
 preciative of the honors that belong to fame, it 
 has been deemed not a little remarkable that he 
 should have put forth what he must have known 
 to have been a remarkable poem, anonymously, 
 and at a time, too, when his name was most 
 prominently known to the literary world. But it 
 must be remembered that Poe lived in an epoch 
 
134 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 when minds of his stamp were not only not un- 
 derstood nor sympathized with, but were abso- 
 hitely ridiculed by the world at large. 
 
 Of the Americans of this period, Powell, in 
 his "Living Authors," aptly and ably writes, 
 "Arnerica is jealous of her victories by sea and 
 land, is proud of advantages with which she has 
 nothing to do, such as Niagara, the Mississippi, 
 and the other wonders of nature. An American 
 points with pride to the magnificent steamboats 
 which ride the waters like things of life. 
 
 " Foreifjners sometimes smile at the honest sat- 
 es 
 
 isfaction, even enthusiasm, which lights up the 
 national face when a few hundred troops file 
 dow^n Broadway to discordant drums and squeak- 
 ing- fifes. But all their natural feelinor and na- 
 tional pride stops here. So far from the American 
 public taking any interest in their owai men of 
 genius, in the triumphs of mind, they absolutely 
 allow others openly to conspire and put down 
 every attempt to establish a national literature. 
 
 '' The Americans are a shrewd and far-seeing 
 people, but they are somewhat too material. 
 liow^ can America expect her 3'oung authors to 
 vindicate her national glory w^hen she treats them 
 with indifference and neglect?" 
 
C ONCE A L ME NT OF MO TIVE. 1 3 5 
 
 To the constituency so graphically described 
 by Powell, the genius of Poe was forced to ad- 
 dress itself or remain silent forever. That he 
 met its cold, hard, unsympathetic reception with 
 the fierce disdain that found its outlet in his 
 scathing criticisms of the typical men of the time, 
 is not to be wondered at, nor is it less surprising 
 that he should shrink from laying bare the secrets 
 of his soul to those so incapable of comprehend- 
 ing their depths. 
 
 When, therefore, in his silent vigils, enthralled 
 by the imaginative ecstasy which often possessed 
 and overpowered him, he conceived and wrought 
 out this marvellous inspiration, what wonder is it 
 that his delicate sensibility should prompt him to 
 conceal from the rude gaze of his material audi- 
 ence the secret springs of his inner consciousness, 
 by printing his weird fancies over an assumed 
 name, and hedging its origin about with the im- 
 penetrable veil of fiction. 
 
 Had " The Raven " been, as he described in his 
 paper, "The Philosophy of Composition," a pro- 
 duct of art simply, and not of inspiration, his 
 ambition for fame would infallibly have led him, 
 not only to claim the poem openly from the out- 
 
136 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 set, but to have preluded it with the descriptive 
 analysis, using the verse as an illustration of the 
 alleged philosophy of the composition. To his 
 intimates, Poe frequently spoke of the exalted 
 state, which he defined as ecstasy, in v/hich he 
 wrote his poems of imagination. From one of 
 his nearest friends, who knew him in prosperity 
 and adversity, in sickness and health, we learn 
 that none of Poe's romances were more fictitious 
 than his romances about himself and his writings, 
 and his accepted analysis of "The Raven" is 
 confessedly as thorough a specimen of plausible 
 fabrication as is his familiar story of "The Facts 
 in the Case of Monsieur de Valdemar." Like 
 all persons of a morbidly sensitive temperament, 
 he resented the slightest approach from the world 
 at large, and from practical people in particular, 
 to tiie inner citadel of his soul, and he knew well 
 how to use his invincible weapons of defence. 
 
 Many admirers of the poet'c genius will doubt- 
 less prefer that the origin of the inspiration of 
 "The Raven" shall remain enshroudeS in the 
 chiaro-oscuro of the mystic suggestiveness of 
 the verse. 
 
 But in a much wider circle, there unquestion- 
 

 
 
 
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GRAHAJM'S LETTER. 
 
 137 
 
 ably exists a pardonable desire to learn the true 
 source of this wonderful poem, that, written in 
 any age, in any language, would have given to 
 its author a world-wide fame. 
 
 Basing the opinions which we venture to 
 advance here, upon the result of a process of 
 psychological introversion, which conclusion is 
 confirmed by several of Poe's most intimate ac- 
 quaintances now living, strengthened by a chain 
 of conclusive circumstantial evidence, we have 
 arrived at a theory of the origin of the poem that 
 has received the approval of Mr. George R. 
 Graham, and others of Poe's friends. 
 
 A letter received from Mr. Graham, May ist, 
 1877, in this connection, will be read with in- 
 terest, from the writer's near and friendly inti- 
 macy with the poet. 
 
 W. F. Gill, Esq. 
 
 Dear Sir : From mj near acquaintance with Edgar A. Poe 
 at the time " The Raven" was written, I have no doubt that 
 jour theory as to the source of the inspiration of The Raven 
 is in the main correct. It was his foible to mislead and mys- 
 tify his readers. 
 
 His published analysis of " The Raven " is a good specimen 
 of his capability in this kind of fiction. 
 
 Your impression that the poet was accessible to fear, is 
 
138 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 entirely correct. He was singularly sensitive to outside influ- 
 ences, more so than most imaginative men. 
 
 His organization, as I have ahvajs said, was extremely 
 delicate and fine. Hence his impressibility, and subjection 
 at times to influences which would not have a feather's weight 
 with ordinary men. 
 
 Even when absorbed in writing, I noticed that a sudden 
 breath of air, a noise unheard by others arovmd him, would 
 startle him. 
 
 He disliked the dark, and was rarely out at night when I 
 knew him. On one occasion he said to me, " I believe that de- 
 mons take advantage of the night to mislead the unwary" — 
 " although, 3^ou know," he added, " I don't believe in them." 
 
 The mysteries of his inner life were never revealed to any 
 one, but his intimates well understood that to mystify his 
 hearer was a strong element of his mind. 
 Yours very truly, 
 ^ Geo. R. Graham. 
 
 New York, INIay i, 1S77. 
 
 It is a singular fact that Poe's reading of 
 " The Raven " in private, was totally at variance 
 with the reading of it as a mere composition. 
 
 Had it been constructed, as described by him 
 in his essay on composition, his reading would, 
 unquestionably, have been in accordance v/ith 
 this description, for Poe was too good an elocu- 
 tionist to fail to adequately voice his conceptions. 
 
ANECDOTE OF BEETHOVEN. 
 
 139 
 
 As a mere composition, it is impossible to give 
 to the reading of the poem a tithe of the vrai~ 
 scinhlance which attaches to it, when rendered 
 according to the theory of its foundation upon 
 an actual experience of the poet. 
 
 But for Poe's evident intent to conceal his 
 authorship of the poem, there would be but little 
 expectation of finding any clue to the source of 
 its inspiration. But the fact of the deliberate and 
 exceptional concealment , evidences conclusively 
 enough that there was, in the poet's own experi- 
 ence, some basis of fact whereon his imaginative 
 structure was erected. 
 
 That some of the most exquisite imaginative 
 fabrics ever constructed, have been wrought from 
 the vsuggestions afforded by some special experi- 
 ence, or by a chance incident or circumstance, 
 there are many familiar examples to demonstrate. 
 
 Beethoven's beautiful "Moonlight Sonata" 
 was suggested by a romantic incident during the 
 composer's sojourn at Bonn. Mrs. Julia Ward 
 Howe's " Battle Hymn of the Republic " was a 
 special inspiration which came to her, after wit- 
 nessing a romantic moonlight march of the troops 
 during the war of the American rebellion. 
 
I^O LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 In seeking for the clue to "The Raven," we find, 
 in recaUing the situation of the poet at this time, 
 that he was Hving at Bloomingdale, New York. 
 
 While at this place, and previous to the ap- 
 pearance of "The Raven," his child-wife, Vir- 
 ginia, for whom he had come to feel a deeper 
 affection than that of fraternal love, was pros- 
 trated by a serious illness, which had previously 
 afflicted her, and for weeks her life hung by a 
 thread. Animation was at times, indeed, seem- 
 ingl}^ suspended, and on one dreary December 
 night, the poet was agonized to find her cold 
 and breathless, apparently dead. 
 
 In his lonely, silent vigils, in what was, to all 
 intents and purposes, the presence of death, many 
 strano-e imageries and much bitter self-accusation 
 naturally possessed him. Although latterly de- 
 voted to his wife, he had caused her pain in 
 the first years of his married life by his romantic 
 admiration of other w^omen ; * and an ex- 
 aggerated sense of wrong done to his lost 
 loved one, through his neglect, not unnaturally 
 came to him at this time, exciting the most irra- 
 
 * Mrs. W^eiss states that he had frequently had sentimental 
 attachments for intellectual women, sometimes nothing more 
 than a distant adoration, — the poet never speaking to the 
 lady, — "as a devotee might worship the Madonna." 
 
ANAL r SIS OF THE RAVEN. j^j 
 
 tional remorse, and completely surcharging his 
 mind with the imaginative reveries " that no 
 mortal ever dared to dream before." In picturing 
 to himself his wife as departed, his remorse also 
 forbade him any hope of meeting her in the 
 distant Aidenn of the future. With the added 
 factor of some fugitive bird, or domestic pet (the 
 Poes always kept them) breaking in upon his 
 wild reveries with some slight interruption which 
 the poet's distorted fancy exaggerated into some 
 supernatural visitant, an adequate basis for his 
 masterpiece is found. 
 
 That this suggestion of the possible origin of 
 "The Raven " is at least plausible, an analysis of 
 the construction of the poem, coupled with the 
 peculiar characteristics of the poet, will perhaps 
 evidence. 
 
 Like many persons of an imaginative, nervous 
 temperament, Poe was susceptible, in certain 
 moods, to a positive sense of the supernatural. 
 This sense he has defined in his letters describ- 
 ing^ visions sua-o-estinor sincrular fancies. 
 
 In his normal state, he did not possess the ele- 
 ment of fear ; but when his mind was overwrought 
 to the extent that it frequently was, he was sus- 
 ceptible to impressions that at other times would 
 have affected him very difTerently. 
 
142 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 We find this dread of the supernatural barely 
 hinted at in the first verse, wherein his weariness 
 and loneliness are principally depicted. 
 
 The second verse simply describes his isolation, 
 and his sorrow for his lost love. The train of 
 thought inspired by his breathing his hopeless 
 sorrow, is quickly follovv^ed by the self-accusation 
 of his remorse for his past, and the vision of an 
 accusing fate dawns upon him, as he recalls the 
 sharp sound that interrupted his loneliness, and 
 strange terrors overcome him. 
 
 He is, in fact, beside himself \N\i\\/car, and, 
 as a person in such a state w^ould be likely to do, 
 he endeavors to allay his imaginative terrors by 
 ascribing them to some commonplace cause : 
 
 " ' Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door, — 
 Some late visitor entreating entrance at mj chamber door: 
 This it is, and nothing more." ■ 
 
 He nerves himself up to the effort required to 
 throw o^ his supernatural terror, and opens the 
 door to discover the cause of the noise. He finds 
 nothing but the darkness. His fears, not having 
 been dispelled, as they would have been had he 
 at this time discovered some practical cause tor 
 
ANALl'SIS OF THE RAVEN. 1^3 
 
 the interruption, are naturally confirmed, and 
 new visions are inspired, and the supposed myste- 
 rious visitant takes the form of the spirit of his 
 lost one. 
 
 In an ecstasy of dread and excitement, he re- 
 turns to his lonel}^ watch, only to be again inter- 
 rupted by a similar noise at the window. 
 
 To his delight and surprise, his mysterious visi- 
 tor takes the welcome form of a truant bird, or 
 some other pet, that had escaped, and returned 
 after the house was closed for the night. 
 
 His supernatural dread immediately gives place 
 to a sense of relief at the material presence of 
 his dumb visitor, and, pacified for the moment, 
 his imaginative fears take flight, and he sits down 
 and holds a merry colloquy with his guest, glad of 
 any opportunity of occupying himself and taking 
 his mind of^ from the morbid imaginings that had 
 possessed it. But under all the would-be blithe- 
 some colloquy with his visitor, his fancy will 
 revert to the hopeless dread that has overpow- 
 ered him, and, like the haunted criminal in MM. 
 Erckmann and Chatrian's drama of " The Bells," 
 his imagination coins but one word in answer to 
 his every query ; and as Matthias Kant, in the 
 
1^4 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE, 
 
 play, is pursued everywhere by the weird jingle 
 of the bells, so the mocking " Nevermore ! " 
 seemed to hover in the air, sounding the knell of 
 his lost hopes. 
 
 The refrain is not, however, to our mind, in- 
 vested with any supernatural suggestiveness in 
 the earlier portions of the poem. Were it so, the 
 poet w^ould have indicated it in the verse. On 
 the contrary, he writes, — 
 
 •'Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so 
 
 plainly, 
 Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy, bore : " 
 
 clearly indicating that his impression was simply 
 one of surprise, not, at first, of fear. 
 
 This idea is confirmed in the opening line of 
 the twelfth stanza of the poem : 
 
 *'But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smzlin^," 
 
 which clearly evidences that, up to this point, the 
 impression produced by the appearance of the 
 bird, had not excited any other emotions than the 
 very natural ones of surprise and amusement. 
 But immediately after this, the poet permits him- 
 self to do a very hazardous thing for his peace 
 of mind, for he betook himself "/<? linking fancy 
 
AiVALTSIS OF THE RAVEN. 1.^5 
 
 unto fancy,"' until, at the end of the next stanza, 
 we find him just where he was at the begin- 
 ning, the lighter train of thought suggested 
 by the entrance of his visitor having merged 
 itself in the reminiscences of his lost Lenore, 
 with whom, for the first time in the course of the 
 interview, it occurs to him to connect the bird. 
 
 Nothing, it seems to us, is at once so natural 
 and ingenious as the manner of the leading up, 
 in the verse, to this necessary connection of the 
 bird with the subject of the poet's imageries. 
 
 The careless, blithesome opening line of the 
 twelfth stanza, already quoted, is in such bold 
 contrast to the sad, closing line of the next stan- 
 za that it seems inexplicable that these opposing 
 ideas could have been so congruously reconciled 
 by so simple a device as the deft placing of the 
 "cushioned seat" with its " violet velvet lining." 
 
 From this point, the atmosphere of the scene 
 changes, and becomes merged in the supernatural ; 
 the changes of the atmosphere being clearly indi- 
 cated by the lines, — 
 
 ''Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an 
 
 unseen censer 
 Swung bj seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted 
 
 floor." 
 
I.|6 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE, 
 
 The bird, no longer a bird to the distorted 
 vision of the poet, assumes to his gaze the 
 shape, first, of an angel, then of an avenging 
 demon. 
 
 In one moment of rhapsody, he grasps with fran- 
 tic joy at the fitful hope of " Nepenthe " for his 
 remorse, only to be cast down to the depths of 
 despair by the re-action which succeeds this still- 
 born hope. 
 
 Invested by the poet's fancy with the spirit of 
 prophecy, the bird from that moment assumes to 
 him the form of a Nemesis, and replies to his 
 plaints w^ith the oracular solemnity of a remorse- 
 less fate. There are no bounds to the mental 
 anguish depicted in the stanza beginning, — 
 
 " Be that word our sign of parting," 
 
 and no limit to the abject despair portrayed in 
 the following, the closing, stanza. 
 
 In voicing his imaginary conception in verse, 
 it is not sin<][-ular that Poe should have selected 
 the raven as typical of his fateful visitor ; for the 
 raven has, for ages past, been renowned as sym- 
 bolical of ill-omen, and for the purposes of the 
 narration of the story, a talking bird was indis- 
 
WHERE THE RAVEN WAS WRITTEN. 147 
 
 pensable. What other than the raven could have 
 been effectively employed? 
 
 The refrain "Nevermore!" was not less ob- 
 viously selected, as suggestive, both in sense and 
 sound, of the poet's fateful inspiration. 
 
 It will, we think, be conceded that the spon- 
 taneity which is an all-pervading characteristic 
 of such of the poems as are knozvn to have 
 been inspired by some actual person, such as 
 "To Helen," "Annabel Lee" and "For Annie," 
 exists not less palpably in "The Raven." Like 
 these others, it sings itself, to a strange melody, 
 it is true, but not less naturally or truly, and with 
 an exalted beauty of rhythm that seems born of 
 a special inspiration. 
 
 The house where " The Raven " was written, 
 stands on a rocky and commanding eminence, a 
 few hundred feet from the corner of Eighty-fourth 
 street and the Boulevard avenue, formerly the 
 Bloomingdale road. It is a plain, old-fashioned, 
 double-framed dwelling, two stories high, with 
 eight windows on each side and one at either 
 gable. 
 
 It has a pointed roof, flanked by two tall brick 
 chimneys. 
 
148 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 Old and weather-beaten, it now arrests the at- 
 tention of the passer-by in a neighborhood where 
 most of the houses are of modern construction. 
 
 No date can be found for the erection of this 
 quaint building, but it is known that nearly a 
 hundred years ago it gave shelter to General 
 Washington and his officers. 
 
 A Mrs. Mary Brennan, who occupied the 
 house for forty-seven years, knew it as bearing a 
 reputation for antiquity before she moved into it. 
 
 To INIrs. Brennan it was that Poe, in the early 
 part of the spring of 1844, applied for rooms 
 during the season. 
 
 At that time the house was located among the 
 picturesque surroundings of primeval trees, and 
 the beauty of the place had not then been marred 
 by rock-blasting and street-cutting. 
 
 Virginia and Mrs. Clemm were, of course, with 
 the poet. They lived together in " The Raven " 
 room during the day, and at night the mother- 
 in-law retired to a small chamber down stairs. 
 
 Poe called Virginia "Diddy,"and Mrs. Clemm 
 "Muddle."* They received no visitors, and 
 took their meals in their room by themselves. 
 
 * Names which Virginia had given to her mother and her- 
 self in her childhood. 
 
The House where "The Kaven " was written. 
 
 The lloom where " The Raven" was written. 
 
MRS. BRENNAN'S REMINISCENCES. 145 
 
 His landlady recalls the poet as a shy, solitary, 
 taciturn person, fond of rambling alone through 
 the woods or of sitting on a favorite stump of a 
 tree down near the banks of the Hudson River. 
 There she has often observed him gesticulating 
 wildly, and loudly and excitedly soliloquizing. 
 She speaks of him as eccentric, and yet as very 
 quiet and gentlemanly in his manners. He 
 wore, at this time, a small moustache, which he 
 had a habit of nervously twirling. 
 
 The " Raven " room had two windows in front, 
 and two at the back, facing the woods. 
 
 When not at his favorite seat by the river's 
 brink, he would place himself at one of the front 
 windows, and with Virginia by his side, watch 
 for hours the fading glories of the summer even- 
 ing skies. 
 
 At this time, although engaged upon ''The 
 Mirror," and writing for several magazines, his 
 revenues were pitifully small. He was able to 
 pay for his board, but, beyond that, his needs were 
 but scantily met. 
 
 The "Raven" room is little altered since the 
 time Poe occupied it. It has a modern mantel- 
 piece, painted black and most elaborately carved. 
 
ISO 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE, 
 
 Poe's name may be found in fine letters cut upon 
 one side of it. His writing-table stood by one 
 of the front windows, and, w^iile seated before it, 
 he could look down upon the rolling waters of 
 the Hudson and over at the Palisades beyond. 
 It was a fitting dweUing for a poet, and though 
 not far from the city's busy hum, the atmosphere 
 of solitude and remoteness was as actual, as if 
 the spot had been in the heart of the Rocky 
 Mountains. 
 
 The explanations of the composition of the 
 Raven given by Poe, even to his most intimate 
 friends, were very conflicting, except that all 
 these agree in stating that the analysis given in 
 the "Philosophy of Composition," was pure fic- 
 tion, — one of the poet's mischievous caprices 
 to catch the critics, w^hich proved successful 
 beyond his expectation. Mrs. Weiss states that, 
 not only did Poe assure her that his published 
 account of the alleged method of the composi- 
 tion of " The Raven " was not genuine, but that 
 he also said that he had never intended it should 
 be seriously received as such. The idea had 
 come to him from speculations made by the crit- 
 ics, that the poem might have been so com- 
 posed. He had, thereupon, written the account 
 

 i ^i' 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 ^V. 
 
 
 ■!-! 
 
 
 
 
PRICE PAID FOR THE RAVEN. i^i 
 
 merely as an ingenious experiment, and had 
 been greatly surprised and amused at the credu- 
 lity of the public in accepting it as a bona jide 
 statement. A letter from Mrs. Weiss, ^fac- 
 simile of which we give, conclusively disposes 
 of the Philosophy of Composition theory, which 
 many writers have hitherto accepted in good faith. 
 
 Mrs. Weiss's allusion to Griswold's professions 
 of friendship for the poet, in his letter to Poe, 
 written but a few days previous to his malignant 
 obituary of the poet, is of significant interest. 
 
 Poe finished " The Raven " in the winter of 
 1844, ^"^ remained with Mrs. Brennan most of 
 the time until the middle of the following sum- 
 mer, when he removed to the city proper. 
 
 It is gratifying to be able to record that during 
 the entire period of Poe's stay at this house he 
 carried himself with exemplary correctness, for 
 the reason, undoubtedly, that he was far removed 
 from the social temptations which so frequently 
 beset him in other places. 
 
 Poe got ten dollars for "The Raven," not, in 
 those times, it would seem, a sum so absolutely 
 insignificant as has been alleged by some of his 
 biographers, for, it must be remembered, it ap- 
 peared anonymously as originally published. 
 
1^2 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 
 
 Still, considering the artistic merits of the poem, 
 the material quid fro quo was not munificent, 
 although the author was unquestionably repaid 
 ten-fold in the rich fruits which it brought to him 
 in what was more precious than silver or gold. 
 
 The fame which "The Raven" gave to him 
 also justified bringing out a new and improved 
 collection of poems, including his famous poem, 
 issued by Messrs. Wiley & Putnam, and also 
 two difi'erent selections from his "Tales ;" but the 
 prices of books were then so low, and the reading 
 public so limited, that he reaped but little pecu- 
 niary advantage from these volumes. 
 
 In " Graham's Magazine" for February, 1845, 
 appeared a portrait of Poe, accompanied by a 
 biographical sketch by Professor James Russell 
 Lowell. That this is the ablest and most notable 
 of the many sketches of Poe that have appeared, 
 goes without saying, for no other writer as gifted 
 with every attribute that goes to make the poet 
 and the critic, has ever taken pen in hand in the 
 name and for the weal of Poe. 
 
 Of the poet's earlier poems. Professor Lowell 
 writes, "We call them the most remarkable boy- 
 ish poems that we have ever read. We know of 
 
y. R. LOWELL'S CRITICISM. 153 
 
 none that can compare with them for maturity of 
 purpose and a nice understanding of the effects 
 of the language and metre." Of the lines "To 
 Helen," lie says, "The grace and symmetry of 
 the outline are such as few poets ever attain. 
 There is a smack of ambrosia about it." 
 
 On his analysis of Poe's genius, Lowell writes, — • 
 "Mr. Poe has two of tlie prime qualities of 
 genius : a faculty of vigorous, yet minute, analysis, 
 and a wonderful fecundity of imagination. The 
 first of these faculties is as needful to the artist 
 in words, as a knowledge of anatomy is to the 
 artist in colors or in stone. This enables him to 
 conceive truly, to maintain a proper relation of 
 parts, and to draw a correct outline, while the 
 second groups, fills up and colors. Both of 
 these Mr. Poe has displayed with singular dis- 
 tinctness in his prose works, the last predominat- 
 ing in his earlier tales, and the first in his later 
 ones. In judging of the merit of an author, and 
 assigning him his niche among our household 
 gods, we have a right to regard him from our 
 own point of view, and to measure him by our 
 own standard. But in estimating the amount of 
 power displayed in his works, we must be gov- 
 
154 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 
 
 erned by his own design, and, placing them by 
 the side of his own ideal, find how much is 
 wanting. We differ from INIr. Poe in his opin- 
 ions of the objects of art. He esteems that 
 object to be the creation of beauty, and perhaps 
 it is onty in the definition of that word that we 
 disagree with him. But in vvdiat we shall say of 
 his writings, we shall take his own standard as 
 our guide. The temple of the god of song is 
 equally accessible from every side, and there is 
 room enough in it for all who bring offerings, or 
 seek an oracle. 
 
 "In his tales, Mr. Poe has chosen to exhibit 
 his power chiefly in that dim region which 
 stretches from the very utmost limits of the prob- 
 able into the Vv^eird confines of superstition and 
 unreality. He combines, in a very remarkable 
 manner, two faculties which are seldom found 
 united: a power of influencing the mind of the 
 reader by the impalpable shadows of mystery, 
 a nd a minuteness of detail which does not leave 
 a pin or a button unnoticed. Both are, in truth, 
 the natural results of the predominating quality 
 of his mind, to which we have before alluded, 
 analysis. It is this which distinguishes the ar- 
 
y. R. LOWELL'S CRITICISM. 155 
 
 tist. His mind at once reaches forward to the 
 effect to be produced. Having resolved to bring 
 about certain emotions in the reader, he makes 
 all subordinate parts tend strictly to the common 
 centre. Even his mystery is mathematical to 
 his own mind. To him at is a known quantity 
 all along. In any picture that he paints, he un- 
 derstands the chemical properties of all his colors. 
 However vague some of his figures may seem, 
 however formless the shadows, to him the out- 
 line is as clear and distinct as that of a geometrical 
 diagram. For this reason Mr. Poe has no sym- 
 pathy with Mysticism. The ?viystic dwells in 
 the mystery, is enveloped with it; it colors all his 
 thoughts ; it effects his optic nerve especially, 
 and the commonest things get a rainbow edging 
 from it. Mr. Poe, on the other hand, is a spec- 
 tator ab extra. He analyzes, he dissects, he 
 watches 
 
 ' with an eje serene, 
 
 The very pulse of the machine,' 
 
 for such it practically is to him, with wheels and 
 cogs and piston-rods, all working to produce a 
 certain end. 
 
156 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 
 
 "This analyzing tendency of his mind bal- 
 ances the poetical, and, by giving him the pa- 
 tience to be minute, enables him to throw a 
 wonderful reality into his most unreal fancies. 
 A monomania he paints with great power. He 
 loves to dissect one of these cancers of the mind, 
 and to trace all the subtle ramifications of its 
 roots. In raising images of horror, also, he has 
 a strange success ; conveying to us, sometimes by 
 a dusky hint, some terrible doubt which is the 
 secret of all horror. He leaves to Imagination 
 the task of finishing the picture, a task to which 
 only she is competent. 
 
 ' For much imaginary work was there; 
 Conceit deceitful, so compact, so kind, 
 That for Achilles' image stood his spear 
 Grasped in an armed hand; himself behind 
 Was left unseen, save to the eje of mind.' 
 
 "Beside the merit of conception, Mr. Poe's 
 writings have also that of form. His style is 
 highl}^ finished, graceful, and truly classical. It 
 would be hard to find a living author who had 
 displayed such varied powers. As an example 
 of his style, we would refer to one of his tales, 
 ' The House of Usher,' in the first volume of his 
 
y. R. LOWELL'S CRITICISM. 157 
 
 'Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque.' It has 
 a singular charm for us ; and we think that no 
 one could read it without being strongly moved 
 by its serene and sombre beauty. Had its author 
 written nothing else, it would alone have been 
 enough to stamp him as a man of genius, and 
 the master of a classic style. In this tale occurs, 
 perhaps, the most beautiful of his poems. 
 
 "The great masters of imagination have sel- 
 dom resorted to the vague and the unreal as 
 sources of effect. They have not used dread 
 and horror alone, but only in combination with 
 other qualities, as means of subjugating the fan- 
 cies of their readers. The loftiest muse has ever 
 a household and fireside charm about her. Mr. 
 Poe's secret lies mainly in the skill with which he 
 has employed the strange fascination of mystery 
 and terror. In this his success is so great and 
 striking as to deserve the name of art, not arti- 
 fice. We cannot call his materials the noblest or 
 purest, but we must concede to him the highest 
 merit of construction." 
 
 Of his abilities as a critic, Lowell says, — 
 "As a critic, Mr. Poe was aesthetically defi- 
 cient. Unerring in his analysis of dictions, 
 
158 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 metres and plots, he seemed wanting in the fac- 
 "dhy of perceiving the profounder ethics of art. 
 His criticisms are, however, distinguished for 
 scientific precision and coherence of logic. They 
 have the exactness, and at the same time the 
 coldness, of mathematical demonstrations. Yet 
 they stand in strikingly refreshing contrast with 
 the vague generahsms and sharp personalities of 
 the day. If deficient in warmth, they are also 
 without the heat of partisanship. They are es- 
 pecially valuable as illustrating the great truth, 
 too generally overlooked, that analytic power is 
 a subordinate qualitj^ of the critic. 
 
 " On the whole, it may be considered certain 
 that Mr. Poe has attained an individual eminence 
 in our literature which he will keep. He has 
 given proof of power and originalit}^. He has 
 done that which could only be done once with 
 success or safet}^, and the imitation or repetition 
 of which would produce w^eariness." 
 
 After six months of service with " The Mirror," 
 Poe accepted an offer from Mr. C. H. Briggs to 
 join him in conducting a new literary gazette, 
 ''The Broadway Journal." He wrote many im- 
 portant criticisms for the columns of "The Broad- 
 
LECTURE IN BOSTON. 15^ 
 
 way," among which the more notable were a 
 paper on Mrs. Browning's (then Miss Barrett's) 
 poems, and an essay on plagiarism. The latter 
 was not in his best vein nor his best mood, and, 
 w^e doubt not, from private letters that we have 
 seen, that he sincerely regretted the animus 
 which he permitted himself to bring to this arti- 
 cle. 
 
 In March of this year (1845), he delivered his 
 lecture on "The Poets and Principles of Poetry " 
 before the Society Library of New York. 
 
 The New England Lyceum had, even at this 
 early period, begun to bud, and the favorable 
 mention of the poet's poetic lecture drew forth an 
 invitation to deliver a poem before the Boston 
 Mercantile Library Association. 
 
 Apropos of Poe's acceptance of this invita- 
 tion, and the circumstances incident to its fulfil- 
 ment. Dr. Griswold devotes considerable space 
 to an elaborate misstatement of the affair. Our 
 lecture managers and lecture public were more ex- 
 acting twenty-live years ago, on some points, than 
 at the present time. Now, it suffices for a reputa- 
 ble celebrity to show himself upon the rostrum. 
 Provided he does not occupy too much time (one 
 
l6o LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 hour or an hour and fifteen minutes is about the 
 fashionable hmit), he may be sure of copious ap- 
 plause, of fervent congratulations from beaming 
 managers, and a plethoric purse upon retiring. 
 Then, O insatiable manager and exacting public ! 
 the best literary work expressly performed for the 
 occasion was demanded, or woe betide the celeb- 
 rity who failed to meet these requirements ! 
 
 Poe was, probably, fully conscious of this, and, 
 not unlike other geniuses in the history of the 
 literary world, w^as driven well-nigh frantic in 
 contemplation of his task of the " written-express- 
 ly-for-this-occasion poem." It ended as most of 
 these unequal contests between inspiration and 
 necessity have ended time and time again. The 
 day arrived, and no new creations had been 
 evolved from the goaded and temporarily irre- 
 sponsive brain. He w^ent to Boston to fill his en- 
 gagement, nerved to meet the ordeal by a spirit 
 which brought him compensation for his anxiety, 
 — a spirit which Mr. E. P. Whipple, the distin- 
 guished essayist, at tliat time immediately asso- 
 ciated with Poe, most aptly describes as intellect- 
 ual mischief. Pie could not do what he had been 
 invited to do ; well, he would make them believe 
 
GR IS WOLD'S RIDICULOUS CHARGES. i6i 
 
 that he had filled the demand, if he could, and 
 then honestly own up, and let them laugh at him 
 and with him over the jiLvcnilc poem he gave. 
 
 Dr. Griswold makes a labored effort to show 
 that Poe's failure to meet his engagement to the 
 letter was due to cares, anxieties, and "feebleness 
 of will." The charge of feebleness of will, ap- 
 plied to Poe in his strictly literary capacity, is 
 perhaps one of the most sapient bits of analysis 
 of which the reverend and profound doctor has 
 delivered himself. As recrards Dr. Griswold's 
 mention of the assistance of Mrs. Osgood, desired 
 by Poe, it is so manifestly absurd, that the biog- 
 rapher's ingenuity and invention fail to enlist any 
 credence in this bit of fiction. 
 
 The literary W'Orld of Boston, tw^enty-five years 
 ago, was marked by characteristics that rendered 
 it anything but liberal and indulgent. Had Poe 
 had the presence of mind to disarm his audienceby 
 " owning up " at the outset, and in advance, deftly 
 knuckling, as he might have done, to its cul- 
 tured literary acumen and critical powders, all 
 might have been wxll. But he chose rather to 
 indulge his mischievous propensity, to his cost, 
 as it afterwards proved. 
 
1 62 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 It is not probable that the poet intended read- 
 ing so bad a poem, as he offered, when he set out 
 for Boston. But, unfortunately, he accepted 
 "hospitalities" from friendly Bostonians in the 
 afternoon preceding the evening of the lecture, 
 and, when the time to deliver his poem came, he 
 was, as we have been informed by an eye-wit- 
 ness, out of his right mind. 
 
 His preliminary remarks were wild and ram- 
 bling, and when he came to the poem, Mr. Gush- 
 ing, the lecturer of the evening, and others on 
 the platform, listened in amazement to the far- 
 raofo of nonsense which he recited. It was a 
 relief to his audience when he finished his poem, 
 and he was applauded to the echo, perhaps iron- 
 ically. To modify the disappointing effect pro- 
 duced by his poem, he was invited to read "The 
 Raven." This he did very acceptably, and was 
 rewarded with genuine applause. 
 
 In the ante-room of the lecture-hall, and at a 
 little supper given after the lecture, he boasted 
 of having humbugged his audience. He was 
 criticised severely by the Boston press, and had 
 the temerity to reply to his critics in "The 
 Broadway Journal." 
 
REPLT TO BOSTON CRITICISMS. 163 
 
 His reply was, very evidently, written in the 
 heat of bad temper, but he is entitled to state his 
 version of the affair in his own words. Poe's 
 reply is founded upon a paragraph which ap- 
 peared in " Noah's Sunday Times," based upon 
 an article in the "Boston Transcript," severely 
 commenting upon "the poem." 
 
 "Our excellent friend, Major Noah, has suf- 
 fered himself to be cajoled by that most beguiling 
 of all beguiling little divinities, Miss Walter, of 
 'The Transcript.' We have been looking all 
 over her article with the aid of a taper, to see if 
 we could discover a single syllable of truth in it 
 — and really blush to acknowledge that we can- 
 not. The adorable creature has been telling a 
 parcel of fibs about us, by way of revenge for 
 something that w^e did to Mr. Longfellow (who 
 admires her very much) , and for calling her ' a 
 pretty little witch ' into the bargain. The facts of 
 the case seem to be these : We were invited to 
 'deliver' (stand and deliver) a poem before the 
 Boston Lyceum. As a matter of course, we ac- 
 cepted the invitation. The audience zvas 'large 
 and distinguished.' Mr. Gushing* preceded us 
 
 ♦Hon. Caleb Gushing, then recently returned from his 
 mission to China. 
 
164 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE, 
 
 with a veiy capital discourse. He was much ap- 
 plauded. On arising we were most cordially re- 
 ceived. We occupied some fifteen minutes with an 
 apology for not ' delivering,' as is usual in such 
 cases, a didactic poem; a didactic poem, in our 
 opinion, being precisely no poem at all. After 
 some further words — still of apology — for the 
 ^indefmiteness' and 'general imbecility' of what 
 we had to offer — all so unworthy a Bostonian 
 audience — we commenced, and with many in- 
 terruptions of applause, concluded. Upon the 
 whole, the approbation was considerably more* 
 (the more the pity too) than that bestowed upon 
 Mr. Gushing. When we had made an end, the 
 audience, of course, rose to depart ; and about one 
 tenth of them, probably, had really departed, when 
 Mr. Coffin, one of the managing committee, 
 arrested those who remained, b}^ the announce- 
 ment that we had been requested to deliver ' The 
 Raven.' We delivered 'The Raven' fortlnvith 
 — (without taking a receipt) — were very cor- 
 dially applauded again — and this was the end 
 of it — with the exception of the sad tale invent- 
 ed to suit her own purposes, by that amiable 
 little enemy of ours. Miss Walter. We shall 
 
 * The applause was, not improbablj, ironical. 
 
REPLT TO BOSTON CRITICISMS. 165 
 
 never call a woman ' a pretty little witch ' again as 
 longf as we live. 
 
 "We like Boston. We were born there — and 
 perhaps it is just as well not to mention that we 
 are heartily ashamed of the fact. The Bostonians 
 are very well in their way. Their hotels are 
 bad. Their pumpkin pies are delicious. Their 
 poetry is not so good. Their common is no com- 
 mon thing — and the duck-pond might answer — 
 if its answer could he heard, for the frogs. But 
 with all these good qualities, the Bostonians have 
 no soul. They have always evinced toward us, 
 individually, the basest ingratitude for the ser- 
 vices we rendered them in enlightening them 
 about the originality of Mr. Longfellow. 
 
 "When we accepted, therefore, an invitation 
 to 'deliver' a poem in Boston, we accepted it 
 simply and solely because we had a curiosity to 
 know how it felt to be publicly hissed — and be- 
 cause we wished to see what effect we could 
 produce by a neat little im-prom-ptti speech in re- 
 ply. Perhaps, however, we overrated our own 
 importance, or the Bostonian want of common 
 civility, which is not quite so manifest as one or 
 two of their editors would wish the public to 
 
l66 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 
 
 believe. We assure Major Noah that he is 
 wrong. The Bostonians are well-bred, as very 
 dull persons generally are. Still, with their vile 
 ingratitude staring us in the eyes, it could scarce- 
 ly be supposed that we would put ourselves to the 
 trouble of composing for the Bostonians anything 
 in the shape of an original poem. We did not. 
 We had a poem of about five hundred lines, ly- 
 ing by us — one quite as good as new — one, at 
 all events, that we considered would answer suf- 
 ficiently well for an audience of Transcendental- 
 ists. That we gave them ; it was the best that 
 we had for the price, and it did answer re- 
 markably well. Its name was not ' The Messen- 
 ger Star.' Who but Miss Walter w^ould ever 
 think of so delicious a little bit of invention as 
 that? We had no name for it at all. The poem 
 is what is occasionally called a 'juvenile' poem, 
 but the fact is, it is anything but juvenile now, for 
 we wrote it, printed it, and published it, in book 
 form, before we had completed our tenth year. 
 We read it verbatim^ from a copy now in our 
 possession, and which we shall be happy to show 
 at any moment to any of our inquisitive friends. 
 We do not, ourselves, think the poem a remark- 
 
REPLY TO BOSTON CRITICISMS. 167 
 
 ably good one ; it is not sufficiently transcenden- 
 tal. Still it did well enough for the Boston 
 audience, who evinced characteristic discrimi- 
 nation in understanding, and especially applaud- 
 ing all those knotty passages which we ourselves 
 have not yet been able to understand. 
 
 "As regards the anger of 'The Boston Times,' 
 and one or two other absurdities — as regards, 
 we say, the wrath of Achilles — we incurred it, 
 or rather its manifestation, by letting some of 
 our cat out of the bag a few hours sooner than 
 we had intended. Over a bottle of champagne, 
 that night, we confessed to Messrs. Gushing, 
 Whipple, Hudson, Fields, and a few other na- 
 tives, who swear not altogether by the frog-pond 
 — we confessed, we say, the soft impeachment 
 of the hoax. Et hinc illcE rrcB. We should 
 have waited a couple of days." 
 
 "It is scarcely necessary to suggest," writes 
 Griswold, ''that this must have been written be- 
 fore he had quite recovered from the long intoxi- 
 cadon which maddened him at the time to which 
 it; refers ; that he was not born in Boston ; that 
 the poem was not published in his tenth year, 
 and that the 'hoax' was all an after-thought." 
 
l68 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 That Poe never composed, or was capable of 
 composing, any kind of v/riting while under the 
 influence of drink, is well known ; and that he 
 had his wits about him in this matter, is suffi- 
 ciently evident from his general adherence, in 
 his reply, to the authenticated facts of the case. 
 
 That he was born in Boston, is now universally 
 known to be true, and Griswold could much more 
 readily have substantiated this fact than we, who, 
 like many others, misled by the reckless misstate- 
 ments of Dr. Griswold, have been obliged, after 
 a lapse of a quarter of a century, to seek for the 
 true facts, which time has not infrequently oblit- 
 erated. That the hoax was not an after-thought, 
 we have Mr. E. P. Whipple's testimony to attest; 
 his account corresponding, as related to us, pre- 
 cisely to that of the poet in his ironical reply 
 to his critics. As to his age when the poem was 
 written, as it has been proved that his other state- 
 ments were truthful, he should have the benefit of 
 the doubt. There was no plea of illness, as 
 Griswold alleges, as an excuse for delivering the 
 juvenile. It was simply a mischievous conceit 
 upon the part of the poet, which shows clearly 
 an unlovely phase of his character, — the dispo- 
 
SOCIAL LIFE OF THE POET. 169 
 
 sition to act on impulse, — and, whatever the 
 consequences, to defend his action, without ad- 
 mitting himself to be in the w^rong. 
 
 More agreeable reminiscences of the poet's 
 social life at this period, as w^ell as faithful im- 
 pressions of the character of his intellect, have 
 been given by contemporaries of Poe, whose 
 palmiest days were, undoubtedly, passed in the 
 select literary circles of the metropolis which cen- 
 tred about the home of the prominent authoress 
 to w^hom we have previously alluded. 
 
 The author of the monograph, "Poe and his 
 Critics," writes, quoting from the published com- 
 ments of a woman of fine genius,* prominently 
 known in the social circle in which Poe moved : 
 " It was in the brilliant circles that assembled in 
 the winter of 1845-6 at the houses of Dr. Dewe}^ 
 Miss Anna C. Lynch, Mr. Lawson and others, 
 that we first met Edgar Poe. His manners were, 
 at these reunions, refined and pleasing, and his 
 style and scope of conversation that of a gentle- 
 man and scholar. Whatever may have been his 
 previous career, there was nothing in his appear- 
 ance or manner to indicate his excesses. He de- 
 lighted in the society of superior women, and had 
 an exquisite perception of all graces of manner 
 
 * Mrs. Elizabeth Oakes Smith. 
 
lyo LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 and shades of expression. He was an admiring 
 listener and an unobtrusive observer. 
 
 "We all recollect the interest felt, at the time, 
 in anj'thing emanating from his pen ; the relief 
 it was from the dulness of ordinary writers ; the 
 certainty of something fresh and suggestive. 
 
 " His critiques were read with avidity ; not that 
 he convinced the judgment, but that people felt 
 their ability and their courage. Right or wrong, 
 he was terribly in earnest." Mrs. Whitman adds, 
 "Like De Qiiincey, he never stiff osed anything 
 — he always knew, 
 
 " The peculiar character of his intellect seemed 
 without a prototype in literature. He had more 
 than De Qiiincey 's power of analysis, with a con- 
 structive nicety and completeness of which the 
 great English essayist has given no indication." 
 
 He had a passionate love for music, as would 
 readily be inferred from his verse. To Mrs, 
 Weiss he once said, " Music can make anything 
 of me for the time being. It can lift me to 
 heaven, or drag me to hades." Once, when in 
 church at Richmond, in the last year of his life, 
 he became so enthralled by the singing of the 
 choir, that he became oblivious of the place and 
 
CONVERSATIONAL POWERS. 171 
 
 the people, and uplifting his face, unconsciously 
 moved towards the choir, fixing upon it his dark, 
 expressive eyes. The cessation of the music alone 
 awakened him from his ecstasy. He instantly 
 resumed his wonted air of cold hauteur when 
 among strangers, and few were aware that the 
 famed author of "The Raven" was before them. 
 
 As a conversationist, the poet possessed a fas- 
 cination and individuality that compelled the ad- 
 miration of all who came within its spell. 
 
 Even Dr. Griswold is forced to join hands with 
 the poet's friends in speaking of Poe's matchless 
 gift, and admits that his conversation was at times 
 almost " supra-mortal in its eloquence ;" that " his 
 large and variably expressive eyes looked repose, 
 or shot fiery tumult into theirs who listened, 
 while his own face glowed, or was changeless in 
 pallor, as his imagination quickened his blood or 
 drew it back, frozen, to his heart." 
 
 We cannot, from a reading of this photo- 
 graphic drawing of one of the poet's most char- 
 acteristic traits, refrain from thinking that Gris- 
 wold really understood Poe more truly than he 
 wrote of him, for, as Mrs. Whitman very aptly 
 says in this connection, "These traits are not the 
 
173 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 
 
 possible accompaniments of attributes which Dr. 
 Griswold has elsewhere ascribed to him." 
 
 Of her own impressions of the poet's gift of 
 speech she writes, "The unmatched charm of 
 his conversation consisted in its gemcinencss. As 
 a conversationist we do not remember his equal. 
 We have heard the veteran Landor, called by 
 high authority the best talker in England, discuss 
 with scathing sarcasm the popular writers of 
 the day, convey his political animosities by fierce 
 invectives on 'the pretentious coxcomb Albert* 
 and the cunning knave Napoleon,' or describe 
 in words of strange depth and tenderness the 
 peerless charm of goodness and the na'ive social 
 graces in the beautiful mistress of Gore house, 
 ' the m.ost gorgeous Lady Blessington.' 
 
 " We have heard the Howadji talk of the gar- 
 dens of Damascus till the air seemed purpled and 
 perfumed with its roses. 
 
 "We have listened to trenchant and vivid talk 
 of the autocrat, to the brilliant and exhaustless 
 colloquial resources of John Neal and Margaret 
 Fuller. 
 
 * The late Prince Consort of Qvieen Victoria. 
 
CONVERSA TIONAL PO WERS. 1 73 
 
 "We have heard the racy talk of Orestes 
 Brownson, in the old days of his freedom and 
 power, have Hstened to the serene wisdom of 
 Alcott, and treasured up memorable sentences 
 from the golden lips of Emerson. 
 
 " Unlike the conversational power evinced by 
 any of these, was the earnest, opulent, unpre- 
 meditated speech of Edgar Poe. Like his 
 writings, it presented a combination of qualities 
 rarely met with in the same person ; a cool, de- 
 cisive judgment, a wholly unconventional cour- 
 tesy and sincere grace of manner, and an im- 
 perious enthusiasm which brought all hearers 
 within the circle of its influence." 
 
 J. M. Daniel, Esq., United States Minister at 
 Turin,* who knew Poe intimately in 1849, says, 
 "His conversation was the very best we have 
 ever listened to. We have never heard any 
 other so suggestive of thought, or any from which 
 one gained so much. On literary subjects it was 
 the essence of correct and profound criticism di- 
 vested of all formal pedantries and introductory 
 ideas, the kernel clear of the shell. He was not 
 
 *i86o. 
 
1^4 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 a brilliant talker in the common after-dinner 
 sense of the word ; he was not a maker of fine 
 points or a frequent sayer of funny things. What 
 he said was prompted entirely by the moment, and 
 seemed uttered for the pleasure of uttering it. 
 
 " In his animated moods he talked with an ab- 
 stracted earnestness, as if he were dictating to an 
 amanuensis ; and if he spoke of individuals, his 
 ideas ran upon their moral and intellectual quali- 
 ties, rather than upon the idiosyncracies of their 
 active visible phenomena, or the peculiarities of 
 their manner." 
 
 Mrs. Osgood also attests to the matchless charm 
 of his conversation. "But it was in his conver- 
 sations and his letters," she writes, "far more 
 than in his published poetry and prose writings, 
 that the genius of Poe was most gloriously re- 
 vealed. His letters were divinely beautiful, and 
 for hours I have listened to him, entranced by 
 strains of such pure and almost celestial eloquence 
 as I have never read or heard elsewhere." 
 
 Of his home life, the same writer pens the fol- 
 lowing exquisite picture ; — 
 
 "It was in his own simple, yet poetical, home, 
 that to me the character of Edgar Poe appeared 
 
MRS. OSGOOD'S REMINISCENCES. 
 
 175 
 
 in its most beautiful light. Playful, affectionate, 
 witty, alternately docile and wayward as a petted 
 child, for his young, gentle and idolized wife, 
 and for all who came, he had, even in the midst 
 of his most harassing literary duties, a kind word, 
 a pleasant smile, a graceful and courteous atten- 
 tion. At his desk, beneath the romantic picture 
 of his loved and lost Lenore, he would sit, hour 
 after hour, patient, assiduous and uncomplaining, 
 tracing, in an exquisitely clear chirography, and 
 with almost superhuman swiftness, the lightning 
 thoughts — the ^ rare and radiant ' fancies as they 
 flashed through his wonderful and ever wakeful 
 brain. I recollect one morning toward the close 
 of his residence in this city, when he seemed un- 
 usually gay and light-hearted. Virginia, his 
 sweet wife, had written me a pressing invitation 
 to come to them; and I, who never could resist 
 her affectionate summons, and who enjoyed his 
 society far more in his own home than elsewhere, 
 hastened to Amity Street. I found him just com- 
 pleting his series of papers entitled ^ The Literati 
 of New York.' 'See,' said he, displaying, in 
 laughing triumph, several little rolls of narrow 
 paper (he always wrote thus for the press), 'I 
 
176 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A, POE. 
 
 am going to show you, by the difference of length 
 in these, the different degrees of estimation in 
 which I hold all you literary people. In each of 
 these, one of you is rolled up and fully discussed. 
 Come, Virginia, help me I ' And one by one they 
 unfolded them. At last they came to one which 
 seemed interminable. Virginia laughingly ran 
 to one corner of the room with one end, and her 
 husband to the opposite with the other. ' And 
 whose lengthened sweetness long drawn out is 
 that? ' said I. * Hear her ! ' he cried, 'just as if 
 her little vain heart didn't tell her it's herself! ' 
 
 " During that 3^ear," Mrs. Osgood adds, in the 
 same paper, " while travelling for my health, I 
 maintained a correspondence with Mr. Poe, in 
 accordance with the earnest entreaties of his wife, 
 who imagined that my influence over him had a 
 restraining and beneficial effect. It had^ as far 
 as this, — that having solemnly promised me to 
 give up the use of stimulants, he so firmly re- 
 spected his promise and me, as never once, dur- 
 ing our whole acquaintance, to appear in my 
 presence when in the slightest degree affected by 
 them. Of the charming love and confidence 
 that existed between his wife and himself, always 
 
THE LITER A TI PAPERS. 1 77 
 
 delightfully apparent to me, in spite of the many 
 little poetical episodes in which the impassioned 
 romance of his temperament impelled him to in- 
 dulge, I cannot speak too earnestly, too warmly." 
 
 "The Broadway Journal " proved too heavy a 
 load for the poet's business inexperience to carry, 
 and he was obliged to retire from it, finally, on the 
 third of January, 1846. 
 
 "The Literati of New York," mentioned by 
 Mrs. Osgood, as well as some of the poet's tales 
 and sketches, appeared in Godey's "Lady's 
 Book." 
 
 These papers made a tremendous local sensa- 
 tion, both in the metropolis and in Philadelphia. 
 Extra editions of the magazine were required to 
 meet the extraordinary demands ; the essays were 
 copied far and near, and avalanches of venge- 
 ful threats were precipitated upon the publishers. 
 In answer to these, Mr. Godey wrote, "We are 
 not to be intimidated by a threat of loss of friends, 
 or turned from our purpose by honeyed words. 
 .... Almost every paper that we exchange 
 with has praised our new enterprise and spoken 
 in high terms of Mr. Poe's opinion." 
 
 Out of the publication of these papers grew a 
 
1^8 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 fierce discussion between the poet and Thomas 
 Dunn English, who, hke most writers under the 
 fire of remorseless criticism, lost his tem.per, and 
 published, in reply to Poe's original criticism in 
 the "Literati" series, a malignant and menda- 
 cious retort, ^vhich was copied in "The Mirror," 
 and met by the poet with a suit for damages, in 
 which he recovered several hundred dollars, law 
 being, at least in this instance, kinder to him than 
 literature was wont to be. 
 
 Poe, in his repl}^ makes an allusion to his 
 irregularities that is of deep significance. He 
 speaks of his weakness as a "calamity," which, 
 but for the pride of his family, could have been 
 explained, and evidently alludes to pre-natal 
 influences as the prime cause. 
 
 Griswold states, after mentioning the fact of 
 the publication of English's card, that Poe's arti- 
 cle was " entirely false in what purported to be 
 its facts ;" prefixing this statement with another to 
 the effect that the publication of the "Literati" 
 led to a disgraceful quarrel, and this to a prema- 
 ture conclusion of the papers. The facts are, as 
 may be readily ascertained by referring to the 
 files of "The Lady's Book," that Poe's critique 
 of Eno-Hsh, which was the second in the "Liter- 
 
A STAR TLING FABRIC A TION. 1 79 
 
 ati" series, appeared in the June number, and, 
 far from coming to "a premature conclusion," 
 they ran on, as had been intended, through the 
 following October, while Mr. Godey, with whom 
 we are led to suppose by Griswold, Poe quar- 
 relled, owing to Mr. Godey's declination of his 
 personal reply to Dunn English, accepted all 
 regular contributions from the poet, whenever he 
 sent them, and wrote in defence of him in a con- 
 temporary magazine of that time. 
 
 Those who ascribe Griswold's misstatements 
 regarding Poe simply to his proclivity for lying, 
 should compare the original " Literati" papers, as 
 they appeared in "Godey's," with those in the 
 published edition edited by Griswold. They will 
 then find that a startling discrepancy exists in the 
 edited "English" critique, and that the virulent 
 personalities therein appearing, with which Poe 
 is charged by Griswold, are entirely absent from 
 the original review as it appeared in " Godey's." 
 
 The story that the poet borrowed money of 
 *'a distinguished literary woman of South Caro- 
 lina," and, when asked to acknowledge it, threat- 
 ened to publish her private letters to him, is also 
 a fiibrication. The only difficulty that ever oc- 
 curred with this lady is described in our notes. '^ 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 LAST YEARS. 
 1S46 — 1849. 
 
 Removal to Fordham — Reminiscences of Fordham and its 
 Inmates bv a Contemporary of the Poet — Sickness and 
 Poverty — A Public Appeal — Griswold's Malevolent Ani- 
 mus — Sympathy of Willis — Reply of the Poet — Death of 
 Virginia — Fordham in 1847 — " Ulalume " — The Poet's 
 Psychal Atmosphere — Lecture on " The Universe" — Letter 
 to Willis — " Eureka " — Theory of Deity — Visit to Lowell 
 
 — "The Bells"— Alteration from the Orig-inal MS.— 
 Some Suggestive Recollections — First Meeting -with ISIrs. 
 Whitman — An Important Letter — An Ideal Home — Break- 
 ing of the Engagement — Griswold's Gross ^Misrepresenta- 
 tion — Reply of W. J. Pabodie ■ — Letter from Mrs. Whitman 
 
 — The Poet Leaves Fordham — A Last Eftort to Establish 
 "The Stylus" — At Richmond Again — Return to the 
 " Literary Messenger" — Anecdote of Annabel Lee, by J. 
 R. Thompson — Last Visit to Philadelphia — Engagement 
 with Mrs. Shelton — The Unfortunate Trip North— The 
 Misfortunes in Baltimore — Death at Baltimore — A Retro- 
 spective Glance. 
 
 N the late spring of 1846, Poe removed 
 to the picturesque locahty of Fordham 
 in Westchester County, New York. 
 The excitement incident to a residence in the 
 metropohs had proved injurious to the rapidly 
 faiHng strength of his stricken wife, and it was 
 thought that the pure, free air of the country 
 (180) 
 
REMINISCENCES OF FORD HAM. iSi 
 
 home would prove beneficial to the delicate 
 Virginia. 
 
 Some charming descriptions of the poet's home 
 at Fordham have been given by his contempo- 
 raries. 
 
 One of these, writing of his first visit there, 
 says of the place and its inmates, — 
 
 " We found him and his wife and his wife's 
 mother, who was his aunt, living in a little cot- 
 tage at the top of a hill. 
 
 "There was an acre or two of greensward 
 fenced in about the house, as smooth as velvet 
 and as clean as the best kept carpet. There 
 were some grand old cherry trees in the yard, 
 that threw a massive shade around them. 
 
 " Poe had somehow caught a full-grown bob- 
 olink. He had put him in a cage, which he 
 had hung on a nail driven into the trunk of a 
 cherry tree. The poor bird was as unfit to live 
 in a cage as his captor was to live in the world. 
 He was as restless as his jailer, and sprang con- 
 tinually, in a fierce, frightened way, from one side 
 of the cage to the other. I pitied him ; but Poe 
 was bent on training him. There he stood, with 
 his arms crossed, before the tormented bird, his 
 
1 82 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 sublime trust in attaining the impossible, appar- 
 ent in his whole self. So handsome, so impassive 
 in his wonderful intellectual beauty, so proud and 
 reserved, and yet so confidentially communica- 
 tive, so entirely a gentleman, upon all occasions 
 that I ever saw him, so tasteful, so good a talker, 
 was Poe, that he impressed himself and his Vvish- 
 es, almost without words, upon those with whom 
 he spoke. 
 
 " On this occasion I was introduced to the 3'oung 
 wife of the poet, and to the mother, then more 
 than sixty years of age. She was a tall, digni- 
 fied old lady, vv^ith a most lady-like manner, and 
 her black dress, old and much worn, looked really 
 elegant on her. She seemed hale and strong, 
 and appeared to be a sort of universal Providence 
 for her strange children. 
 
 "Mrs. Poe looked very young ; she had large 
 black eyes and a pearly whiteness of complexion 
 which was a perfect pallor. Her pale face, her 
 brilliant eyes and her raven hair gave her an un- 
 earthly look. 
 
 " One felt that she was almost a dissolved spirit ; 
 and when she coughed, it was made certain that 
 she was rapidly passing away. 
 
MAKIA CLEMM. 
 From Daguerreotype taken in Lowell in 1849. 
 
REMINISCENCES OF FORDHAM. 
 
 1S3 
 
 "The cottage had an air of taste and gentihty 
 that must have been lent to it by the presence of 
 its inmates. 
 
 " So neat, so poor, so unfurnished, and yet so 
 charming a dwelling I never saw^. The sitting- 
 room was laid with check matting; four chairs, 
 a light-stand and a hanging book-shelf completed 
 its furniture. 
 
 " There were pretty presentation copies of books 
 on the little shelves, and the Brownings had a 
 post of honor on the stand. With quiet exulta- 
 tion Poe drew from his side-pocket a letter that he 
 had recently received from Elizabeth Barrett 
 Browning. He read it to us. It was very flat- 
 tering. . . . 
 
 " He was at this time greatly depressed. Their 
 extreme poverty, the sickness of his wife, and his 
 own inability to write, sufficiently accounted for 
 this. We strolled away into the woods, and had 
 a very cheerful time, till some one proposed a 
 game at leaping ; I think it must have been Poe, 
 as he was expert in the exercise. Two or three 
 gentlemen agreed to leap with him, and though 
 one of them was tall, and had been a hunter in 
 times past, Poe still distanced them all. 
 
184 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 In contrast to this specimen of the poet's rugged 
 manliness, is the statement of a near friend of the 
 poet, who writes that Poe was so effeminately 
 sensitive as to be seriously disturbed by the rustle 
 of a silk dress, and would plead with his lady 
 friends to wear stuff that would hang in graceful 
 drapery and make no noise. 
 
 Of a later visit, the author from whom we 
 have previously quoted writes : " The autumn 
 came, and Mrs. Poe sank rapidly in consump- 
 tion, and I saw her in her bed-chamber. The 
 weather was cold, and the sick lady had the 
 dreadful chills that accompany the hectic fever 
 of consumption. 
 
 "She lay on the straw bed, wrapped in her hus- 
 band's great coat, with a large tortoise-shell cat 
 in her bosom. The wonderful cat seemed con- 
 scious of her gre?it usefulness. The coat and the 
 cat were the sufferer's only means of warmth, ex- 
 cept as her husband held her hands and her 
 mother her feet. 
 
 " Mrs. Clemm was passionately fond of her 
 daughter, and her distress on account of her ill- 
 ness and poverty and misery was dreadful to see. 
 
 "As soon as I was made aware of these pain- 
 
DISTURB SS OF FOE'S FAMILT. 185 
 
 ful facts, I came to New York and enlisted the 
 sympathies and services of a lady whose heart 
 and hand were ever open to the poor and the 
 miserable. 
 
 "The lady headed a subscription, and carried 
 them sixty dollars the next week. From the day 
 this kind lady * first saw the suffering family of 
 the poet she watched over them as a mother. 
 
 "She saw them often, and ministered to the 
 comfort of the dying and the living. Poe," 
 this writer adds, in concluding his impressions 
 and reminiscences, "has been called a bad man. 
 He was his own enemy, it is true, but he was a 
 gentleman and a scholar. If the scribblers who 
 have snapped like curs at his remains had seen 
 him, as his friends saw him, in his dire necessity 
 and his great temptation, they would have been 
 worse than they deem him, to have written as 
 they have concerning a man of whom they really 
 knew next to nothing." 
 
 Griswold, with ferocious cruelty, states that 
 "his habits of frequent intoxication, and his inat- 
 tention to the means of support, had reduced him 
 
 * Mrs. Estelle Lewis. 
 
lS6 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 
 
 to much more than common destitution ;" when he 
 must have known, or could have readily ascer- 
 tained from Mrs. Clemm, that his health had been 
 broken by his incessant vvatching with his sick 
 wife, and he had been unable to get opportunity 
 to make new literary engagements. 
 
 The writer from whose reminiscences we have 
 quoted, took the well-meant liberty of making 
 Poe's necessities public without, of course, the 
 poet's knowledge. This mistaken kindness called 
 forth many sympathetic words, however, which 
 showed, Griswold to the contrary, that Poe was 
 not without true friends. 
 
 The following paragraph announcing Poe's 
 distress appeared originally in " The New York 
 Express : " — 
 
 "We regret to learn that Edgar A. Poe and his 
 wife are both dangerously ill with the consump- 
 tion, and that the hand of misfortune lies heavy 
 upon their temporal affairs. We are sorry to 
 mention the fact that they are so far reduced as 
 to be barely able to obtain the necessaries of life. 
 This is indeed a hard lot, and we hope that the 
 friends and admirers of Mr. Poe \vill come prompt- 
 ly to his assistance in his bitterest hour of need." 
 
WILLIS' NOBLE PROJECT. 1S7 
 
 Mr. Willis, anticipating Mr. Edwin Forrest's 
 plan of a home for disabled members of the dra- 
 matic profession, wrote an article favoring the 
 establishment of a home or hospital where edu- 
 cated persons of reduced circumstances might be 
 received and cared for. In it, he says, apropos 
 of Poe's calamities : 
 
 " The feeling we have long entertained on this 
 subject has been freshened by a recent paragraph 
 in " The Express," announcing that Mr. Edgar A. 
 Poe and his wife were both dangerously ill, and 
 suffering for want of the common necessaries of 
 life. Here is one of the finest scholars, one of 
 the most original men of genius, and one of the 
 most industrious of the literary profession of our 
 country, whose temporary suspension of labor, 
 from bodily illness, drops him immediately to a 
 level with the common objects of public charity. 
 There was no intermediate stopping-place — no 
 respectful shelter where, with the delicacy due to 
 genius and culture, he might secure aid, unad- 
 vertised, till, with returning health, he could re- 
 sume his labors and his unmortified sense of in- 
 dependence. He must either apply to individual 
 friends — (a resource to which death is sometimes 
 
iSS LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE, 
 
 almost preferable) — or suffer dozvn to the level 
 where Charity receives claimants, but where 
 Rags and Humiliation are the only recognized 
 Ushers to her presence. Is this right? Should 
 there not be, in all highly civilized communities, 
 an Institution designed expressly for educated 
 and refined objects of charity — a hospital, a re- 
 treat, a home of seclusion and comfort, the suffi- 
 cient claims to wdiich w^ould be such susceptibili- 
 ties as are violated by the above-mentioned appeal 
 in a daily new^spaper?" 
 
 From a letter to Willis, which w^e quote, the 
 effect produced upon the proud, sensitive nature 
 of the poet by the w-holesale publication of his 
 distress will be evident : 
 
 INIy dear Willis, — 
 
 The paragraph Avhich has been put in circulation respect- 
 ing mj wife's illness, my own, mj poverty, etc., is now hing 
 before me, together with the beavitiful lines by INIrs. Locke, 
 
 and those by Mrs. -^ to which the paragraph has given 
 
 rise, as well as your kind and manly comments in "The Home 
 Journal." The motive of the paragraph I leave to the con- 
 science of him or her who wrote it or suggested it. Since the 
 thing is done, however, and since the concerns of my family 
 are thus pitilessly thrust before the public, I perceive no mode 
 of escape from a public statement of what is true and what is 
 erroneous in the report alluded to. That my wife is ill, then, 
 
WILLIS' LETTER. 
 
 1S9 
 
 is true ; and jou maj imagine with what feelings I add that 
 this illness, hopeless from the first, has been heightened and 
 precipitated by her reception, at two different periods, of 
 anonymous letters — one enclosing the paragraph now in 
 
 question, the other those published calumnies of Messrs. 
 
 for which I yet hope to find redress in a court of justice. 
 
 Of the facts that I myself have been long and dangerously 
 ill, and that my illness has been a well understood thing 
 among my brethren of the press, the best evidence is aflbrded 
 by the innumerable paragraphs of personal and of literary 
 abuse with which I have been latterly assailed. This matter, 
 however, will remedy itself. At the very first blush of my 
 new prosperity, the gentlemen who toadied me in the old will 
 recollect themselves and toady me again. That I am without 
 friends is a gross calumny, which I am sure you never could 
 have believed, and which a thousand noble-hearted men would 
 have good right never to forgive for permitting to pass unnoticed 
 and undenied. I do not think, my dear Willis, that there is 
 any need of my saying more. I am getting better, and may 
 add, if it be any comfort to my enemies, that I have little 
 fear of getting worse. The truth is, I have a great deal to 
 do ; and I have made up my mind not to die till it is done. 
 Sincerely yours, 
 
 December 30, 1S46. Edgar A. Poe. 
 
 This letter, Griswold charges, was written for 
 effect. Poe, he declares, had not been ill a great 
 while, nor dangerously ill at all ; that there was 
 no literary or personal abuse of him in the jour- 
 nals, and that his friends in turn had been apphed 
 
190 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 to for money until their patience was nearly ex- 
 hausted. It is needless to say that these state- 
 ments are, like others by the writer, parts of the 
 patchwork of falsehood with which the narrative 
 facts of his memoir of the poet are covered. 
 That malicious slanders of Poe were published, 
 the fact of his recovery of heav}^ damages from 
 "The Mirror" at a subsequent time, sufficiently 
 proves; and that he was ill, we have Willis' own 
 statement, which no one would presume to gain- 
 say, as proof. 
 
 Within a month after the writing of the letter 
 to AVillis, Poe's child-wife died."^ Although not 
 now a child, in appearance she was actually girl- 
 ish, and a portrait which we have seen, taken 
 after death, while robed for the grave, depicts her 
 face as one of singular sweetness and purity. 
 Although her disease was a lingering one, the 
 face is not wasted nor marked by any lines of 
 suffering. It seems the face of a child sweetly 
 sleeping ; and, after looking upon it, one does not 
 vv^onder at the devoted affection which its living 
 presence inspired. 
 
 No other picture of Virginia is known to be in 
 existence ; and it is to be hoped that at some fu- 
 
FOE'S DESOLATION. 191 
 
 ture day the owner of the picture, a sister of the 
 deceased, will waive her present scruples to hav- 
 ing the portrait copied, for there is nothing ghast- 
 Iv or deathlike about it. Its atmosphere is that 
 of peace, not of grim death. 
 
 Deprived of the companionship and sympathy 
 of his child-wdfe, the poet suffered what was to 
 him the exquisite agony of utter loneliness. 
 
 Night after night he would arise from his sleep- 
 less pillow, and, dressing himself, wander to the 
 grave of his lost one, and throwing himself dov/n 
 upon the cold ground, w^eep bitterly for hours at 
 a time. 
 
 The same haunting dread which we have ven- 
 tured to ascribe to him at the time of his writing 
 " The Raven," possessed him now, and to such a 
 degree that he found it impossible to sleep with- 
 out the presence of some friend by his bedside 
 when he sought slumber. Mrs. Clemm, his ever- 
 devoted friend and comforter, more frequently 
 fulfilled the office of w^atcher. The poet, after 
 retiring, would summon her, and while she 
 stroked his broad brow he w^ould indulge his wild 
 flights of fancy to the Aidenn of his dreams. 
 He never spoke nor moved in these moments, 
 
1^2 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 unless the hand was withdrawn from his fore- 
 head ; then he would say, with childish naivete, 
 "No, no, not yet!" — while he lay with half- 
 closed eyes. 
 
 The mother, or friend, would sta}^ by him un- 
 til he was fairly asleep, then gently leave him. 
 He rarely awoke from troubled sleep when his 
 slumbers were thus preluded as he desired ; but 
 if, through accident or necessity, he was obliged 
 to seek sleep with no sweet soothings, save the 
 weird conjurings of his own strange fancies, he 
 was invariably restless and wretchedly un- 
 comfortable. 
 
 He continued to reside at Fordham, and the 
 memory of his departed wife, was sacredly pre- 
 served in his devoted care of the quaint and 
 pretty little villa with its surroundings of fruit 
 trees and flowerbeds, and its family of home pets, 
 which to him were, from their associations with 
 his Virginia, as dear as if they had been his 
 children. 
 
 Poe had many visitors during his isolated resi- 
 dence at this charming place. An English 
 writer who visited Fordham in the early autumn 
 of 1847, thus described it to Mrs. Whitman : — 
 
A T FORD HAM IN 1S47. 1 93 
 
 " It was at the time bordered by a flower gar- 
 den, whose clumps of rare dahlias and brilliant 
 Deds of fall flowers showed, in the careful culture 
 bestowed upon them, the fine floral taste of the 
 inmates." 
 
 An American writer who visited the cottage 
 during the summer of the same year, described it 
 as " half-buried in fruit trees, and as having a 
 thick grove of pines in its immediate neighbor- 
 hood. Round an old cherry tree, near the door, 
 was a broad bank of greenest turf. The neigh- 
 boring beds of mignonette and heliotrope, and 
 the pleasant shade above, made this a favorite 
 seat." "Rising at four o'clock in the morning," 
 writes Mrs. Whitman, " for a walk to the mag- 
 nificent Aqueduct bridge over Harlem River, 
 our informant found the poet, with his mother, 
 standing on the turf beneath the cherry tree, 
 eagerly watching the movements of two beauti- 
 ful birds that seemed contemplating a settlement 
 in its branches. He had some rare tropical birds 
 in cages, which he cherished and petted with as- 
 siduous care. Our English friend described him 
 as giving to his birds and his flowers a delighted 
 attention that seemed quite inconsistent with the 
 
194 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 gloomy and grotesque character of his writings. 
 A favorite cat, too, enjoyed his friendly patron- 
 age, and often when he was engaged in compo- 
 sition, it seated itself on his shoulder, purring in 
 complacent approval of the work proceeding un- 
 der its supervision. 
 
 " During Mr. Poe's residence at Fordham, a 
 walk to High Bridge was one of his favorite and 
 habitual recreations. The water of the aqueduct 
 is conveyed across the river on a range of lofty 
 granite arches which rise to the height of a hun- 
 dred and forty-five feet above high-water level. 
 On the top a turfed and grassy road, used only 
 by foot passengers, and flanked on either side by 
 a low parapet of granite, makes one of the finest 
 promenades imaginable. The winding river and 
 the high rocky shores at the western extremity of 
 the bridge are seen to great advantage from this 
 lofty avenue. In the last melancholy years of 
 his life — ^ the lonesome latter years' — Poe was 
 accustomed to walk there at all times of the day 
 and night, often pacing the then solitary pathway 
 for hours without meeting a human being. A 
 little to the east of the cottas^e rises a led^je of 
 rocky ground, partly covered with pines and 
 
ULALUME. 
 
 195 
 
 cedars, commanding a fine view of the surround- 
 ing country and of the picturesque college of St. 
 John's, which had, atthattime, in its neighborhood 
 an avenue of venerable old trees. This rocky 
 ledge was also one of the poet's favorite resorts. 
 Here, through long summer days and through 
 solitary star-lit nights, he loved to sit, dreaming 
 his gorgeous waking dreams, or pondering the 
 deep problems of * The Universe,' that grand 
 'prose poem' to which he devoted the last and 
 maturest energies of his wonderful intellect." 
 
 The proximity of the railroad, and the great in- 
 crease of population in the village, have since 
 wrought great changes, and the place would be 
 scarcely recognizable from this description now. 
 
 It was during the period of solitariness at Ford- 
 ham that Poe wrote the mystic "Ulalume ;" and, 
 taking into consideration the distracted condition 
 of the poet at this time, it is not singular that, 
 when subjected to Mrs. Whitman's clear-cut an- 
 alysis, it should be found to be " the most original 
 and weirdly suggestive of all his poems." "It 
 resembles at first sight," says this writer, " some 
 of Turner's landscapes, being apparently 'with- 
 out form and void, and having darkness on the 
 
196 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 face of it.' It is, nevertheless, in its basis, al- 
 though not in the precise correspondence of time, 
 simply historical." 
 
 Such was the poet's lonely midnight walk ; 
 such, amid the desolate memories and sceneries 
 of the hour, was the new-born hope enkindled 
 within his heart at sight of the morning star — 
 
 " Astarte's bediamonded crescent — 
 
 coming up as the beautiful harbinger of love and 
 happiness yet awaiting him in the untried future ; 
 and such the sudden transition of feeling, the 
 boding dread, that supervened on discovering 
 that which at first had been unnoted, that it shone, 
 as if in mockery or in warning, directly over the 
 sepulchre of the lost " Ulalume." 
 
 A writer in "The London Critic" says, quoting 
 the opening lines of "Ulalume," — 
 
 "These to many will appear only words; but 
 what wondrous words I What a spell they wield ! 
 What a weird unit}^ is in them ! The instant 
 they are uttered, a mist}^ picture, with a tarn, dark 
 as a murderer's ej^e, below, and the thin yellow 
 leaves of October fluttering above, exponents of 
 
LECTURE ON THE UNIVERSE. 197 
 
 a misery which scorns the name of sorrow, is 
 hung up in the chambers of your soul forever." 
 
 Of the psychal atmosphere of Poe when satu- 
 rated with the supernaturally imaginative condi- 
 tion, under the spell of which "Ulalume," "The 
 Raven " and " Eureka " were inspired, the author 
 of "Poe and his Critics" writes, "Nothing so sol- 
 itary, nothing so hopeless, nothing so desolate, 
 as his spirit in its darker moods, has been in- 
 stanced in the literary history of the nineteenth 
 century." 
 
 The poet's extraordinary conceptions of the 
 future were first revealed in the form of a lecture 
 suggestively entitled, "The Universe," delivered 
 before the Society Library of New York city. 
 This was the first of a series of lectures from 
 the proceeds of which Poe expected to realize 
 his long-cherished idea of a monthly magazine 
 of his own, as the following letter to Willis will 
 show : — 
 
 FoRDHAM, January 22, 1848. 
 My Dear Mr. Willis, — 
 
 I am about to make an effort at re-establishing myself in 
 the literary world, and/ee/that I may depend upon your aid. 
 
 My geneial aim is to start a magazine, to be called "The 
 Stylus ;" but it would be useless to me, even when estab- 
 
IC)8 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 lished, if not entirely out of the control of a publisher. I 
 mean, therefore, to get up a journal which shall be my own 
 at all points. With this end in view, I must get a list of at 
 least five hundred subscribers to begin with, nearly two hun- 
 dred I have already. I propose, however, to go South and 
 West, among my personal and literary friends — old college 
 and West Point acquaintances — and see what I can do. In 
 order to get the means of taking the first step, I propose to 
 lecture at the Society Library on Thursday, the 3d of Febru- 
 ary; and that there may be no cause of sguabhlifi^, my sub- 
 ject shall not be literary at all. I have chosen a broad text, 
 "The Universe." 
 
 Having thus given you the facts of the case, I leave all the 
 rest to the suggestions of your own tact and generosity. 
 Gratefully, 7nost gratefully, your friend always, 
 
 Edgar A. Poe. 
 
 The subject was sufficiently ponderous to forbid 
 a large attendance, and the sanguine enthusiast 
 was obliged to possess his soul with patience, 
 until opportunity offered for realizing upon his 
 effort from' the publication of the completed work, 
 which was published not long after by Mr. G. P. 
 Putnam. The preliminary business negotiation 
 incident to its publication has been graphically 
 described by Mr. Putnam. It is worth recalling 
 in this place : 
 
 '*I was in my office in Broadway," he states, 
 "when a gentleman entered, and with a some- 
 
PUBLICATION OF EUREKA. i^c) 
 
 what nervous and excited manner claimed atten- 
 tion on a subject which he said w^as of the highest 
 importance. Seated at my desk, and looking at 
 me a full minute with his * glittering eye,' he at 
 length said, 'I am Mr. Poe.' I was *all ear,' of 
 course, and sincerely interested. It was the au- 
 thor of 'The Raven,' and of 'The Gold Bug!' 
 'I hardly know,' said the poet, after a pause, 
 'how to begin what I have to say. It is a matter 
 of profound importance.' After another pause, 
 the poet seeming to be in a tremor of excitement, 
 he at length v^ent on to say that the publication 
 he had to propose was of momentous interest. 
 Newton's discovery of gravitation was a mere 
 incident compared with the discoveries revealed 
 in this book. It would at once command such 
 universal and intense interest that the publisher 
 might give up all other enterprises, and make 
 this one book the business of his lifetime. An 
 edition of fifty thousand copies might be suffi- 
 cient to begin with ; but it would be a small 
 beginning. No other scientific event in the his- 
 tory of the world approached in importance the 
 original developments of this book. All this and 
 more, not in irony or in jest, but in intense 
 
200 LIE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 
 
 earnest — for he held me with his eye like the 
 Ancient Mariner. I was really impressed, but 
 not overcome. Promising a decision on Monday 
 (it was late Saturday p.m.), the poet had to rest 
 so long in uncertainty upon the extent of the edi- 
 tion — partly reconciled, by a small loan, mean- 
 while. We did venture, not upon fifty thousand, 
 but five hundred." 
 
 Although the poet's works are filled, perhaps 
 unconsciously, with a deep sense of the power 
 and majesty of Deity, his theory, as expressed 
 in "Eureka," which he regarded as the crowning 
 work of his life, of the universal diftusion of 
 Deity in and through all things, has been regard- 
 ed as identical with the Brahminical faith as ex- 
 pressed in the '^Bagvat Gita." But the closer 
 criticism of Mrs. Whitman reveals that in the 
 vast reaches of his thought he arrived at a form 
 of unbelief that assumes that the central, creative 
 soul is alternately, not diffused only, but merged 
 and lost in the universe, and the universe in it. 
 
 "No thinking man lives," he says, "who, at 
 some luminous point of his life, has not felt him- 
 self lost amid the surges of futile efforts at un- 
 derstanding or believing that anything exists 
 
EUREKA. 20I 
 
 greater than his ozun soul. The intense, over- 
 whelmincf dissatisfaction and rebellion at the 
 thought, together with the omniprevalent aspira- 
 tions at perfection, are but the spiritual, coincident 
 with the material, struggle towards the original 
 unity. The material and spiritual God nozv ex- 
 ists solely in the diffused matter and spirit of the 
 universe ; and the regathering of the diffused mat- 
 ter and spirit will be but the reconstitution of the 
 -purely spiritual and individual God." 
 
 The following: inccenious and characteristic 
 note was found in a copy of the original edition 
 of "Eureka," purchased at a sale of Dr. Gris- 
 wold's library. The note, inscribed on the half- 
 blank page at end of the volume, is in the hand- 
 writing of the author : 
 
 "Note. — The pain of the consideration that 
 we shall lose our individual identity^ ceases at 
 once when zue further reflect that the process as 
 above described is neither more nor less than 
 that of the absorption^ by each individual intel- 
 ligence^ of all other intelligences {that is, of the 
 universe) into its ozun. That God may be all in 
 all, each must become God.''* 
 
 The publication of "Eureka" naturally aroused 
 
202 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 coiitrovers}^ at a time when sectarian dcgmatism 
 and Puritanical narrowness were less tolerant of 
 heretical theories than at the present. A flippant 
 critique of "Eureka" in "The Literary World" 
 drew forth from Poe the following characteristic 
 letter, addressed to the editor, Mr. C. T. Hoff- 
 man, that indicated that his many privations had 
 in no way tempered the severity cf his powers 
 of criticism when once they were thoroughly 
 aroused : — 
 
 Dear sir, — In jour paper of July 29, I find some comments 
 on "Eureka," a late book of mj own; and I know jou too 
 well to suppose for a moment that jou will refuse me the priv- 
 ilege of a few words in reply. I feel even that I might safely 
 claim from Mr. Hoffman the right which every author has of 
 replying to his critic, tone for tone, that is to say, of answer- 
 ing your correspondent's flippancy by flippancy, and sneer by 
 sneer; but, in the first place, I do not wish to disgrace the 
 *' World," and in the second, I feel that I should never be done 
 sneering in the present instance were I once to begin. Lam- 
 artine blames Voltaire for the use which he made of misrep- 
 resentations (^ruses') in his attacks on the priesthood ; but our 
 young students of theology do not seem to be aware that in 
 defence, or what they fancy to be defence, of Christianity, 
 there is anything wrong in such gentlemanly peccadilloes as 
 the deliberate perversion of an author's text, to say nothing 
 of the minor indecora of reviewing a book without reading it 
 and without having the faintest suspicion of what it is about. 
 
EUREKA. 203 
 
 You will understand that it is merely the mtsreprcsenta* 
 iions of the critique in question to which I claim the privilege 
 of reply; the mere opiniojis of the writer can be of no con- 
 sequence to me, — and I should imagine of very little to him- 
 self — that is to say, if he knows himself personally as well as 
 / have the honor of knowing him. The first misrepresenta- 
 tion is contained in this sentence : "This letter is a keen bur- 
 lesque on the Aristotelian or Baconian methods of ascertain- 
 ing Truth, both of which the writer ridicules and despises, and 
 pours forth his rhapsodical ecstasies in a glorification of a 
 third mode — the noble art oi guessing.'" What I really say 
 is this: "That there is no absolute certainty either in the 
 Aristotelian or Baconian process ; that for this reason neither 
 philosophy is so profound as it fancies itself, and that neither 
 has a right to sneer at that seonhtgly imaginative process 
 called Intuition (by which the great Kepler attained his laws), 
 since ' Intuition,' after all, is but the conviction arising from 
 those zV/ductions, or (deductions, of which the processes are so 
 shadowy as to escape our consciousness, elude our reason, or 
 defy our capacity of expression." The second misrepresenta- 
 tion runs thus: "The developments of electricity and the 
 formation of stars and suns, luminous and non-luminous, 
 moons and planets, with their rings, etc., is deduced, very 
 much, according to the nebular theory of Laplace, from the 
 principle propounded above." Now, the impression intended 
 to be made here upon the reader's mind by the " student of 
 theology " is, evidently, that my theory may be all very well 
 in its way, but that it is nothing but Laplace over again, with 
 some modifications that he (the student of theology) cannot 
 regard as at all important. I have only to say that no gen- 
 tleman can accuse me of the disingenuousness here implied; 
 
204 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 inasmuch as, having proceeded with my theory to that point 
 at which Laplace's theory meets it, I then give Laplace's 
 theory in full, with the expression of my firm conviction of 
 its absolute truth at all points. The ground covered by my 
 theory, as a bubble compares with the ocean on which it 
 floats; nor has he the slightest allusion to " the principle pro- 
 pounded above ; " the principle of unity being the source of all 
 things, the principle of gravity being merely the re-action of 
 the Divine actwhich irradiated all things from unity. In fact, 
 no point of my theory has been even so much as alluded to 
 by Laplace. I have not considered it necessary here to speak 
 of the astronomical knowledge displayed in the " stars and 
 suns" of the student of theology, nor to hint that it would be 
 better grammar to say that "development and formation " are 
 than that development and formation is. The third misrep- 
 resentation lies in afoot-note, where the critic says. "Further 
 than this, Mr. Poe's claim that he can account for the exist- 
 ence of all organized beings, man included, merely from those 
 principles on which the origin and present appearance of suns 
 and worlds are explained, must be set down as mere bold as- 
 sertion, without a particle of evidence. In other words, we 
 should term it arrant fudge.'' The perversion of this point 
 is involved in a wilful misapplication of the word " princi- 
 ples." I say "wilful," because at page 63 I am particularly 
 careful to distinguish between the principles proper, attrac- 
 tion and repulsion, and those merely resultant 5?/^-principles 
 which control the universe in detail. To these sub-principles, 
 swayed by the immediate spiritual influence of Deity, I leave, 
 without examination, all that which the student of theology 
 so roundly asserts I account for on the ])rinciples which ac- 
 count for the constitution of suns, etc. . . . 
 
THE BELLS. 
 
 205 
 
 I 
 
 Were these "misrepresentations" (Js that the name of 
 them?) made for any less serious a purpose than that of 
 branding my book as " impious," and myself as a " pantheist," 
 a " polytheist," a Pagan, or a God knows what (and, indeed 
 Icare very little, so it be not a " student of theology"), I would 
 have permitted their dishonesty to pass unnoticed, through 
 pure contempt for the boyishness, for the turn-dovjn-shirt- 
 coUaniess of their tone; but as it is, you will pardon me, Mr. 
 Editor, that I have been compelled to expose a " critic" who, 
 courageously preserving his own a?ionymosify, takes advan- 
 tage of my absence from the city to misrepresent, and th.is 
 vilify me, by name. 
 
 Edgar A. Poe. 
 
 Fordham, September 20, 1848. 
 
 In July, 1848, Poe visited Lowell, Massachu- 
 setts, and there delivered his lecture on Poetry. 
 Another visit to this city, in the spring of 1849, 
 was eventful in that, during the time he remained 
 there, at the house of a dear friend, he composed 
 and finished his greatest descriptive poem, "The 
 Bells," a study of which he had previously made 
 and sent to "Sartain's Magazine." 
 
 Commenting on the wonderful contrast pre- 
 sented between the study and the finished mas- 
 terpiece, the editor of ^' Sar tain's" gives the fol- 
 lowing, including a copy of "The Bells," as 
 originally composed : — 
 
2o6 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 "The singular poem of Mr. Poe's, called ^The 
 Bells,' which we published in our last number, 
 has been very extensively copied. There is a 
 curious piece of literary history connected with 
 this poem, which we may as well give now as at 
 any other time. It illustrates the gradual develop- 
 ment of an idea in the mind of a man of original 
 genius. This poem came into our possession 
 about a year since. It then consisted oi eighteen 
 lines! They were as follows : — 
 
 THE BELLS.— A SOXG. 
 
 The bells ! — hear the bells ! 
 The merrj wedding bells ! 
 The little silver bells ! 
 How fairj-like a melodj there swells 
 From the silver tinkling cells 
 Of the bells, bells, bells! 
 Of the bells! 
 
 The bells ! — ah, the bells ! 
 
 The heavy iron bells ! 
 
 Hear the tolling of the bells ! 
 
 Hear the knells ! 
 How horrible a monodj there floats 
 
 From their throats — 
 
 From their deep-toned throats \ 
 How I shudder at the notes 
 
 From the melancholy throats 
 Of the bells, bells, bells! 
 
 Of the bells! 
 
I I , 
 
 -IcS 
 
 2 ^^-^ 
 
 •^ 111- 
 
 -IS s 
 
 -t'i^ ^' <^ 
 
 ^ K 
 
 
 "^ 
 
 ■^-•^ 
 
 1 1 .' Ss-^ 1^-^ 
 
 ■>S 
 
 ^ m 
 
 
 4^ 
 
 U 
 
 
 ^ ^ ^ 
 
 ^ J .. ^ ^ 
 
 \^ 
 
 ^-^ 
 
 -§ "-^ <, 
 
 "^ ^ 
 
 < 
 
 
 -I 
 
 ^ 
 ^ 
 
THE BELLS. 207 
 
 "About six months after this, we received the 
 poem enlarged and altered nearly to its present 
 size and form ; and about three months since, the 
 author sent another alteration and enlargement, 
 in which condition the poem was left at the time 
 of his death." 
 
 The original MS. of "The Bells," in its en- 
 larged form, from which the draft sent to "Sar- 
 tain's" was made, is in our possession at this 
 time. The interlinings and revisions are pecu- 
 liarly interesting as showing the author's extraor- 
 dinary care in fine points of versification. 
 
 In the twelfth line of the first stanza of the 
 original draft, the word "bells" was repeated ^fz^^ 
 times, instead of four, as Poe printed it, and but 
 twice in the next line. In changing and obvious- 
 ly improving the effect, he has drawn his pen 
 through the fifth repetition, and added another, 
 underlined i to the two of the next line. 
 
 The same change is made in the corresponding 
 lines in the next stanza. 
 
 In the sixth line of the third stanza, the word 
 "much" is placed before "too," with the usual 
 mark indicating the transposition which he made 
 in printing it, and, as originally written, the word 
 
2o8 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 
 
 "anger," in the fifth line from the last in this 
 stanza, was written "clamor," while "anger" 
 was placed in the last line. By the transposition 
 of these, he gained the euphonious alliterative 
 effect in the last fine, which would otherwise have 
 been w^anting. 
 
 In the sixth line of the fourth stanza, the w^ord 
 "meaning" was first used in lieu of the more im- 
 pressive " menace," to which it gave place. The 
 eighth line of this stanza was first written, "From 
 out their ghostly throats ; " and the eleventh 
 line was changed twice, reading first, "Who live 
 up in the steeple," then "They that sleep " w^as 
 substituted for "who live," and finally "dwell" 
 was printed instead of "sleep." 
 
 After the eighteenth line, a line was added that 
 was elided entirely in the poem as printed. It 
 read, — 
 
 " But are pestilential carcasses departed from their souls." 
 
 The ideality of the poem is immeasurably im- 
 proved by the elision of this repulsive thought. 
 In making the change, omitting this line, he 
 simply substituted, "They are ghouls," in the 
 next line, in pencil. 
 
SUGGESTIVE RECOLLECTIONS. 209 
 
 K/ac simile of a portion of this fourth stanza, 
 which we give, show^ing some of the important 
 aherations, is, perhaps, the most interesting spe- 
 cimen of the poet's hand that has been printed. 
 
 Some informal but quite suggestive recollec- 
 tions of the poet have been given us by a lady 
 now living, at that time a school-girl in her teens. 
 According to this lady's statement, — and she is 
 certainly disinterested, — the poet does not seem 
 to have been the moral wreck that some of his 
 biographers have sought to make him appear. 
 
 " I have in my mind's eye a figure somewhat 
 below medium height, perhaps, but so perfectly 
 proportioned, and crowned with such a noble 
 head, so regally carried, that to my girlish ap- 
 prehension he gave the impression of command- 
 ing stature. Those clear, sad eyes seemed to 
 look from an eminence rather than from the or- 
 dinary level of humanity, wdiile his conversa- 
 tional tone was so low and deep that one could 
 easily fancy it borne to the ear from some distant 
 height. 
 
 "I saw him first in Lowell, and there heard him 
 give a lecture on Poetry, illustrated by readings. 
 His manner of rendering some of the selections 
 
2IO /./i^^ OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 constitutes my only remembrance of the evening 
 which so fascinated me. Everything was ren- 
 dered with pure intonation and perfect enuncia- 
 tion, marked attention being paid to the rhythm. 
 He almost 5^;^^ the more musical versifications. 
 I recall more perfectly than anything else the un- 
 dulations of his smooth baritone voice as he 
 recited the opening lines of Byron's ' Bride of 
 Abydos,' — 
 
 ' Know je the land where the cypress and myrtle 
 Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime,' — 
 
 measuring the dactylic movement perfectly as if 
 he were scanning it. The effect was very pleas- 
 ing. 
 
 " He insisted strongly upon an even, metrical 
 flow in versification, and said that hard, unequally 
 stepping poetry had better be done into prose. I 
 think he made no selections of a humorous char- 
 acter, either in his public or parlor readings. In- 
 deed, anything of that kind seems entirely incom- 
 patible with his personality. He smiled but sel- 
 dom, and never laughed, or said anything to 
 excite mirth in others. His manner was quiet 
 and grave. John Brown of Edinboro' might 
 have characterized it as '' lonely.'^ In thinking 
 
SUGGESTIVE RECOLLECTIONS. 211 
 
 of Mr. Poe in later years I have often applied 
 to him the line of Wordsworth's Sonnet, — 
 
 'Thj soul was like a star, and dwelt apart.* 
 
 " I did not hear the conversation at Mrs. Rich- 
 mond's after the lecture, when a few persons 
 came in to meet him ; but I remember that my 
 brother spoke with enthusiasm of the elegance 
 of Mr. Poe's demeanor and the grace of his con- 
 versation. In alluding to it he always says, 'I 
 have never seen it equalled.' A lady in the 
 company differed from Mr. Poe, and expressed 
 her opinions very strongly. His deference in 
 Hstening was perfect, and his replies were models 
 of respectful politeness. Of his great satirical 
 power his pen was generally the medium. If he 
 used the polished weapon in conversation, it was 
 so delicately and skilfully handled that only a 
 quick eye would detect the gleam. Obtuseness 
 was always perfectly safe in his presence. 
 
 " A few months later than this, Mr. Poe came 
 out to our home in Westford. My recollections 
 of that visit are fragmentary, but vivid. 
 
 " During the day he strolled off by himself ' to 
 look at the hills,' he said. I remember standing 
 
212 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 in tlie low porch with my sister as we saw him 
 returning; and as soon as he stepped from the 
 dusty street on to the greensward which sloped 
 from our door, he removed his hat and came 
 to us with uncovered head, his eyes seeming 
 larger and more luminous than ever with the ex- 
 hilaration of his walk. I recall his patiently un- 
 winding from a nail a piece of twine that had 
 been carelessly twisted and knotted around it, 
 and then, hanging it back again over the nail in 
 long, straight loops. It was a half-unconscious 
 by-play of that ingenious mind which deciphered 
 cryptographs, solved enigmas of all kinds, and 
 wrote 'The Gold Bug' and 'The Balloon Hoax.' 
 ]My memory photographs him again sitting before 
 an open wood fire in the early autumn evening, 
 gazing intently into the glowing coals, holding 
 the hand of a dear friend, while for a loncf time 
 no one spoke, and the only sound was the ticking 
 of the tall clock in the corner. I wish I knew 
 what he was dreaming about during that rapt 
 silence. 
 
 Later in the evening he recited, before a little 
 reading club, several of his own poems, one of 
 Willis', commencino^, 'The shadows lay along 
 
SUGGESTIVE RECOLLECTIONS. 213 
 
 Broadway,' which, he said, was a special favor- 
 ite with him ; and one or two of Byron's shorter 
 pieces. I thought everything was perfect; but 
 others said that much more effect might be given 
 to his own unique poems. I suppose his voice 
 and manner expressed the ' Runic rhyme ' better 
 than the 'tintinnabulation' or the 'turbulency' 
 of the 'bells, bells, bells.' That poem was then 
 fresh from the author's brain, and we had the 
 privilege of hearing it before it was given to the 
 world. 
 
 " The next morning I was to go to school ; and 
 before I returned he would be gone. I went to 
 say good-bye to him, when, with that gracious, 
 ample courtesy of his, which included even the 
 rustic school-girl, he said, 'I will walk with you.' 
 He accompanied me nearly all the way, taking 
 leave of me at last in such a gentle, kindly man- 
 ner that the thought of it brings tears now to the 
 eyes that then looked their last upon that finished 
 scholar, and winning, refined gentleman." 
 
 In 1845, Poe had visited Providence on 
 his way to deliver his poem before the Boston 
 Lyceum ; and there, while wandering through 
 a retired street, he saw, walking in her garden, 
 
214 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 Mrs. S. H. Whitman, to whom, in his lectm*e 
 on Poetry, he had awarded " a preeminence in 
 refinement of art, enthusiasm, imagination and 
 genius." The romantic incident of his meeting 
 with Mrs. Whitman has, as is generally known, 
 been exquisitely described by him in the poem 
 "To Helen." 
 
 Dr. Griswold's citation of the lines in connec- 
 tion with one of his most scandalous anecdotes, 
 has given them a celebrity which even their 
 sumptuous beauty might not otherwise have 
 insured to them. 
 
 Early in September, 1848, the poet, having ob- 
 tained a letter of introduction to Mrs. Whitman, 
 again visited Providence, and made her acquaint- 
 ance. Notwithstanding some opposition from 
 the relatives of the lady, they were subsequently 
 engaged. 
 
 The lack of all moral sense has been so uni- 
 versally imputed to Poe by his biographers, that 
 the following passages from a letter by the poet, 
 one of a series addressed to his Jiancec, in v/hich 
 he speaks for himself upon this subject, may be 
 worthy of consideration in this place ; 
 
 October iSth. 
 ... Of what avail to me in my deadly grief are jour en- 
 thusiastic words of mere admiration ! You do not love me. 
 
AiV I MP OR TANT LETTER. 2 1 5 
 
 or jou would liave felt too thorough a sympathy with the 
 sensitiveness of my nature to have so wounded me, as you 
 have done, with this terrible passage of your letter: "How 
 often I have heard men and even women say of you, ' He has 
 great intellectual power, but no principle, no moral sense.' " 
 Is it possible that such expressions as these could have been 
 repeated to me — to me — by one whom I loved — ah, whom I 
 love I And you ask me why such opinions exist. You will feel 
 remorse for the question, when I say to you that until the 
 moment when those horrible woi'ds first met my ej-e, I would 
 not have believed it possible that any such opinions could 
 have existed at all ; but that they do exist, breaks my heart in 
 separating us forever. I love you too truly ever to have of- 
 fered you my hand, ever to have sought your love, had I 
 known my name to be so stained as your expressions imply. 
 ... It is altogether in vain that I tax my memory or my 
 conscience. There is no oath which seems to me so sacred 
 as that sworn by the all-divine love I bear you. By this love, 
 then, and by the God who reigns in heaven, I swear to you 
 that my soul is incapable of dishonor ; that with the excep- 
 tion of occasional follies and excesses, which I bitterly la- 
 ment, but to which I have been driven, and which are hourly 
 committed by others without attracting any notice whatever, 
 I can call to mind no act of my life which would bring a blush 
 to my cheek or to yours. If I have erred at all in this regard, it 
 has been on the side of what the world would call a Qviixotic 
 sense of the honorable, of the chivalrous. The indulgence 
 of this sense has been the true voluptuousness of my life. It 
 was for this species of luxury that in early youth I deliberate- 
 ly threw away a large fortune rather than endure a trivial 
 wrong. . . . Ah, how profound is my love for you, since it 
 
2i6 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE, 
 
 forces me into these egotisms, for which jou will inevitablj 
 despise me! 
 
 But grant that what j'ou urge were even true, do you not 
 feel in jour inmost heart of hearts that the soul-love of which 
 the world speaks so often, and so idly, is, in this instance at 
 least, but the veriest, the most absolute of realities? 
 
 Ah, I could weep, I could almost be angry with you, for 
 the unwarranted wrong you offer to the purity, to the sacred 
 reality, of my affection. 
 
 Referring to another passage in the letter quoted above, the 
 poet writes : — 
 
 "May God forever shield you from the agony which these 
 words occasion me ! " 
 
 You will never know, you can never picture to yourself, 
 the hopeless, rayless despair with which I now trace these 
 words. . . . 
 
 Nevertheless, I must now speak to you the truth or noth- 
 ing. . . . But alas! for nearly three years ] have been ill, 
 poor, living out of the world, and thus, as I now painfully 
 see, have afforded opportunity to my enemies to slander me 
 in private society, without my knowledge, and thus with im- 
 punity. 
 
 Although much may, however (and I now see must), 
 have been said to my discredit during my retirement, those 
 few who, knowing me well, have been steadfastly my friends, 
 permitted nothing to reach my ears, unless in one instance, 
 where the accusation was of such character that I could ap- 
 peal to a court of justice for redress. 
 
 I replied to the charge fully in a public newspaper, suing 
 "The Mirror"' (in which the scandal appeared), obtaining a 
 verdict and recovering such an amount of damages as for the 
 
AJV I MP OR TANT LE TTER. 2 1 7 
 
 time to completely break up that journal. And jou ask why 
 men so misjudge me, why I have enemies ! 
 
 If your knowledge of my character, and of my career, does 
 not afford you an answer to the query, at least it does not be- 
 come me to suggest the answer. Let it suffice that I have 
 had the audacity to remain poor that I might preserve my 
 independence; that, nevertheless, in letters, to a certain ex- 
 tent and in certain regards, I have been successful ; that I 
 have been a critic, an unscrupulously honest, and no doubt 
 in many cases, a bitter one. 
 
 That I have uniformly attacked, where I attacked at all, 
 those who stood highest in power and influence, and that, 
 whether in literature or in society, I have seldom refrained 
 from expressing, either directly or indirectly, the pure con- 
 tempt with which the pretensions of ignorance, arrogance or 
 imbecility inspire me. And you who know all this, you ask 
 me why I have enemies. Ah, I have a hundred friends for 
 every individual enemy; but has it ever occurred to you that 
 you do not live among my friends .'' 
 
 Had you read my criticisms generally, you would see why 
 all those whom you know best know me least and are my en- 
 emies. Do you not remember with how deep a sigh I said to 
 
 you in , " My heart is heavy, for I see that your friends 
 
 are not my own !" . . . Forgive me, best and beloved , if 
 
 there is bitterness in my tone. Towards you there is no room 
 in my soul for any other sentiment than devotion. It is fate 
 only which I accuse. — It is my own unhappy nature. 
 
 Further on in this letter, the poet draws this 
 picture of his ideal home : — 
 
 " I suffered my imagination to stray with you, and with the 
 
2i8 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 few who love us both, to the banks of some quiet river in 
 some lovely valley of our land. Here, not too far secluded 
 from the world, we exercised a taste controlled by no conven- 
 tionalities, but the sworn slave of a Natural Art, in the build- 
 ing for ourselves a cottage which no human being could ever 
 pass without an ejaculation of wonder at its strange, weird 
 and incomprehensible, yet simple, beauty. Oh, the sweet and 
 gorgeous, but not often rare, flowers in which we half-buried 
 it — the grandeur of the magnolias and tulip-trees which stood 
 guarding it — the luxurious velvet of its lawn — the lustre of 
 the rivulet that ran by its very door — the tasteful yet quiet 
 comfort of its interior — the music — the books — the unos- 
 tentatious pictures — and, above all, the love, the love that 
 threw an unfading glory over the whole ! — Alas ! all is now 
 a dream." 
 
 This letter of eloquent protest and appeal bears 
 date October i8, 1848. No engagement at the 
 time subsisted between the parties. 
 
 Shortly after its date, an incident occurred 
 which has been widely chronicled as " an out- 
 rage on the eve of an appointed marriage." 
 
 Mrs. Whitman has permitted us to publish her 
 own clear and authentic statement of the facts 
 w4iich underlie this scandal, thereby placing the 
 story in its true light, and imparting a pro- 
 found interest to the fragment of a letter to 
 which she alludes, and of which we present 
 
GRISWOLD'S MISSTATEMENT. 210^ 
 
 2ifac-shnile copy. Later, a conditional engage- 
 ment was made. The poet was not able to 
 adhere to the conditions, and the lady was, in 
 duty and honor to her family, bound to give up 
 the alliance. 
 
 But it was not broken under any such circum- 
 stances as those fabricated by Dr. Griswold in 
 his narration of the affair in his memoir. As this 
 misstatement of Griswold is probably the most 
 serious of all his published misrepresentations, 
 we have taken special pains to gather the evi- 
 dence of its fLilsity ; evidence that Griswold de- 
 liberately suppressed, although most of it was 
 published previous to his issue of his memoir of 
 Poe in a permanent form. The correspondence 
 which we quote, principally comprises letters from 
 Wm. J. Pabodie, Esq., a prominent lawyer of 
 Providence, very intimately acquainted both with 
 Poe and with Mrs. Whitman, at the time of their 
 engagement. 
 
 To the editors of the "New York Tribune," 
 Mr. Pabodie writes, after the misstatements of 
 Griswold had been published and repeatedly 
 copied by various periodicals : 
 
 *' In an article on American Literature in the ' Westminster 
 
220 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 Review 'for April, and in one on Edgar A. Poe, in ' Tait's 
 Magazine' for the same month, we find a repetition of certain 
 incorrect and injurious statements in regard to the deceased 
 author, which should not longer be suffered to pass unnoticed. 
 These statements have circulated through half a dozen foreign 
 and domestic periodicals, and are presented with an ingenious 
 variety of detail. As a specimen, we take a passage from Tait, 
 who quotes as his authority Dr. Griswold's memoir of the 
 poet : 
 
 *' ' Poe's life, in fact, during the three years that yet remained 
 to him, was simply a repetition of his previous existence, not- 
 withstanding which, his reputation still increased, and he made 
 many friends. He was, indeed, at one time, engaged to marry 
 a lady who is termed "oneof the most brilliant women in New 
 England." He, hovv^ever, suddenly changed his determina- 
 tion ; and after declaring his intention to break the match, he 
 crossed, the same day, into the city where the lady dwelt, and, 
 on the evening that should have been the evening before the 
 bridal, " committed in drunkenness such outrages at her house 
 as made necessary a summons of the police."' 
 
 "The subject is one which cannot well be approached without 
 invading the sanctities of private life; and the improbabilities 
 of the story maj", to those acquainted with the parties, be 
 deemed an all-sufiicient refutation. But in view of the rapidly 
 increasing circulation which this story has obtained, and the 
 severity of comment which it has elicited, the friends of the 
 late Edgar A. Poe deem it an imperative duty to free his 
 memory from this unjust reproach, and to oppose to it their 
 unqualified denial. Such a denial is due, not only to the 
 memory of the departed, but also to the lady whose home is 
 supposed to have been desecrated by these disgraceful out* 
 rages. 
 
f GRIS WOLD 'S M/SSSTA TEMENT. 22 1 
 
 *' Mr Poe was frequently mj guest during his stay in Pi-ovi- 
 dence. In his several visits to the city I was with h;m daily. 
 I was acquainted with the circumstances of his engagement, 
 and with the causes which led to its dissolution. I am 
 authorized to say, not only from my personal knowledge, 
 but also from the statements of all who were conversant with 
 the affair, that there exists not a shadow of foundation for the 
 stories above alluded to. 
 
 " Mr. Foe's friends have no desire to palliate his faults, nor 
 to conceal the fact of his intemperance — a vice which, though 
 never habitual to him, seems, according to Dr. Griswold's 
 published statements, to have repeatedly assailed him at the 
 most momentous epochs of his life. With the single excep- 
 tion of this fault, which he has so fearfully expiated, his 
 conduct, during the period of my acquaintance with him, was 
 invariably that of a man of honor and a gentleman ; and I 
 know that, in the hearts of all who knew him best among us, 
 he is remembered with feelings of melancholy interest and gen- 
 erous sympathy. 
 
 "We understand that Dr. Griswold has expressed his sin- 
 cere regret that these unfounded reports should have been 
 sanctioned by his authority; and we doubt not, if he possesses 
 that fairness of character and uprightness of intention which 
 we have ascribed to him, that he will do what lies in his 
 power to remove an undeserved stigma from the memory of 
 
 the departed. 
 
 " William J. Pabodie. 
 
 " Providence, June 2, 1S52." 
 
 In answer to this, we find Dr. Griswold assum- 
 ing a threatening tone, and attempting to put 
 
222 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 down Mr. Pabodie's dignified statement vi ct 
 armis. He writes to Mr. Pabodie a private let- 
 ter, as follow^s ; — 
 
 New York, June 8, 1S52. 
 
 Dear Sir, — I think jou have done wrong in publishing 
 your communication in yesterday's "Tribune" without ascer- 
 taining how it must be met. I have never expressed any 
 such regrets as you write of, and I cannot permit any state- 
 ment in my memoir of Poe to be contradicted by a reputable 
 person, unless it is shown to be wrong. The statement in 
 question I can easily prove, on the most unquestionable 
 authority, to be true ; and unless you explain your letter to 
 " The Tribune" in another for publication there, you will 
 compel me to place before the public such documents as will 
 be infinitely painful to Mrs. Whitman and all others concerned. 
 The person to whom he disclosed his intention to break off 
 
 the match was Mrs. H 1. He was already engaged to 
 
 another party. I am sorry for the publication of your letter. 
 Why you did not permit me to see it before it appeared, and 
 disclose in advance these consequences, I cannot conceive. I 
 would willingly drop the subject, but for the controversies 
 hitherto in regard to it, with which you are acquainted. Be- 
 fore writing to " The Tribune " I will await your opportunity 
 to acknowledge this note, and to give such explanations of 
 your letter as will render any public statement on my part 
 
 unnecessary. 
 
 In haste, yours respectfully, 
 
 R. W. Griswold. 
 W. J. Pabodie, Esq. 
 
 To this discourteous and insidious letter, which 
 
, PABODIE TO ORIS WOLD. 223 
 
 was tessellated with scandalous and irrelevant 
 stories respecting Mr. Poe's relations, and some 
 of his esteemed and valued friends, Mr. Pabodie 
 replied by calmly reiterating his published state- 
 ment in "The New York Tribune," and by ad- 
 ducing further proof of Griswold's audacious 
 fabrications. The tone of this letter is in strik- 
 ing contrast to that of Griswold's virulent and 
 threatening note. Its forbearing mildness, in- 
 deed, renders it open to criticism on this ground. 
 
 June ii, 1852. 
 Mr. RuFus W. Griswold. 
 
 Dear Sir, — In reply to your note, I would say that I have 
 simply testified to what I know to be true, namely, that no 
 such incident as that so extensively circulated in regard to 
 certain alleged outrages at the house of Mrs. Whitman, and 
 the calling of the police, ever took place. The assertion 
 that Mr. Poe came to Providence the last time with the inten- 
 tion of breaking off the engagement, you will find equally un- 
 founded, when I have stated to you the facts as I know them. 
 In remarking that you had expressed regret at the fact of 
 their admission into your memoir, I had reference to a 
 passage in a letter written by Mrs. H. to Mrs. W., which was 
 read to me by the latter some time since. I stated in all 
 truthfulness the impression which that letter had left upon 
 my mind. I enclose an extract from the letter, that j ou may 
 judge for yourself: 
 
 "Having heard that Mr. Poe was engaged to a lady of 
 
224 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE, 
 
 Providence I said to him, on hearing that he was going to 
 that city, ' Mr. Poe, are you going to Providence to be 
 married?' — 'I am going to deliver a lecture on Poetry,' he 
 replied. Then, after a pause, and with a look of great 
 reserve, he added, 'That marriage may never take place.' " * 
 
 I know that from the commencement of Poe' s acquaintance 
 with Mrs. W. he repeatedly urged her to an immediate 
 marriage. At the time of his interview with ISIrs. H., cir- 
 cumstances existed which threatened to postpone the marriage 
 indefinitely, if not altogether to prevent it. It was, undoubt- 
 edly, with reference to these circumstances that his remark to 
 Mrs. H. was made; certainly not to the breaking-off the 
 engagement, as his subsequent conduct will prove. He left 
 New York for Providence on the afternoon of his interview 
 with Mrs. H., not with any view to the proposed union, but 
 at the solicitation of the Providence Lyceum; and on the 
 evening of his arrival, delivered his lecture on American 
 Poetry, before an audience of some two thousand persons. 
 During his stay he again succeeded in renewing his engage- 
 ment, and in obtaining Mrs. W.'s consent to an immediate 
 marriage. 
 
 He stopped at the Earl house, where he became acquainted 
 with a set of somewhat dissolute young men, who often in- 
 vited him to drink with them. We all know that he some- 
 times yielded to such temptations, and on the third or fourth 
 evening after his lecture, he came up to Mrs. Whitman's in 
 a state of partial intoxication. I was myself present nearly the 
 
 * In anotlier letter IMrs. H. writes, referring to this conversation, indig- 
 nant at tlie use which Dr, Griswold had made of these innocent words, 
 more than a year after she had reported them, "These were Mr. Poe's 
 words, and these were all." 
 
P ABO DIE TO GR IS WOLD. 235 
 
 whole evening, and do most solemnly affirm that there was 
 no noise, no disturbance, no "outrage," neither was there any 
 "call for the police." Mr. Poe said but little. This was un- 
 doubtedly the evening referred to in your memoir, for it was 
 the only evening in which he was intoxicated during his last 
 visit to this city; but it was not " the evening that should 
 have been before the bridal," for they were not then pub- 
 lished, and the law in our State required that they should be 
 published at least three times, on as many different occasions, 
 before they could be legally married. 
 
 The next morning Mr. Poe manifested and expressed the 
 most profound contrition and regret, and was profuse in his 
 promises of amendment. He was still urgently anxious that 
 the marriage should take place before he left the city.* 
 
 That very morning he wrote a note to Dr. Crocker, 
 requesting him to publish the intended marriage at the 
 earliest opportunity, and entrusted this note to me, with 
 the request that I should deliver it in person. You will per- 
 ceive, therefore, that I did not write unadvisedly in the state- 
 ment published in '• The Tribune." 
 
 For yourself, Mr. Griswold, I entertain none other than the 
 kindest feelings. I was not surprised that you should have 
 believed those rumors in regard to Poe and his engagement; 
 and although, from a regard for the feelings of the lady, I do 
 not think that a belief in their truth could possibly justify 
 their publication, yet I was not disposed to impute to you any 
 wrong motive in presenting them to the public. I supposed 
 rather that, in the hurry of publication and in the multiplicity 
 of your avocations, you had not given each statement that 
 precise consideration which less haste and more leisure would 
 have permitted. I was thus easily led to believe, from Mrs. 
 
 * The poet, in his disordered condition, must have unwarrantably assumed that 
 his eloouent but wild appeals had been successful. 
 
226 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 H.'s letter, that upon being assured of their incorrectness, 
 and upon learning how exceedingly painful thej were to the 
 feelings of the surviving part3% you sincerely regretted their 
 publication. I would fain hope so still. 
 
 In my article in " The Tribune," I endeavored to palliate 
 their publication on your part, and to say everything in j'our 
 extenuation that was consistent with the demands of truth 
 and justice to the parties concerned. I would add, in regard 
 to Poe's intoxication on the evening above alluded to, that to 
 all appearances it was as purely accidental and unpremedi- 
 tated as any similar act of his life. By what species of logic 
 any one should infer that, in this particular instance, it was 
 the result of a malicious purpose and deliberate design, I have 
 never been able to conceive. The facts of the case, and his 
 subsequent conduct, prove beyond a doubt that he had no 
 
 such design. 
 
 With great respect, 
 
 Your obedient servant, 
 
 William J. Pabodie. 
 Rev. RuFus W. Griswold. 
 
 It will be seen by this correspondence that the 
 attempt of Dr. Griswold to browbeat Mr. Pabodie 
 was courteously but firmly and unanswerably 
 met. Dr. Griswold never paid the slightest at- 
 tention to this letter, contenting himself with 
 leaving on record the outrageous scandal that has 
 since obtained an almost unprecedented circula- 
 tion in the numerous memoirs of Poe, based upon 
 Dr. Gris wold's malicious invention, that have 
 
MRS. WHITMAN'S TESTIMONT. 227 
 
 been published. The introduction of the story 
 of the banns would seem to come under the head 
 of what lawyers call " an accessory after the 
 fact." Dr. Griswold had probably heard that 
 the banns were written, if not published, and 
 took advantage of this information to adroitly 
 garnish his story with them. To set this question 
 at rest forever, we have obtained permission to 
 quote the following passages of a letter received 
 from Mrs. Whitman in August, 1873 : 
 
 " No such scene as that described by Dr. Griswold ever trans- 
 pired in my presence. No one, certainly no woman, who 
 had the slightest acquaintance with Edgar Poe, could have 
 credited the story for an instant. He was essentially and in- 
 stinctively a gentleman, utterly incapable, even in moments 
 of excitement and delirium, of such an outrage as Dr. Gris- 
 wold has ascribed to him. No authentic anecdote of coarse 
 indulgence in vulgar orgies or bestial riot has ever been re- 
 corded of him. During the last years of his unhappy life, 
 whenever he yielded to the temptation that was drawing him 
 into its fathomless abyss, as with the resistless swirl of the 
 maelstrom, he always lost himself in sublime rhapsodies on 
 the evolution of the universe, speaking as from some imagin- 
 ary platform to vast audiences of rapt and attentive listeners. 
 During one of his visits to this city, in the autumn of 1S4S, I 
 once saw him after one of those nights of wild excitement, 
 before reason had fully recovered its throne. Yet even then, 
 in those frenzied moments when the doors of the mind's 
 
228 LIFE OF EDGAR A, POE. 
 
 *' Haunted Palace" were left all unguarded, his words were 
 the words of a princely intellect overwrought, and of a heart 
 only too sensitive and too finely strung. I repeat that no one 
 acquainted with Edgar Poe could have given Dr. Griswold'u 
 scandalous anecdote a moment's credence. 
 " Yours, etc., 
 
 *.' S. H. Whitman/*' 
 
 Apropos of Mr. Griswold's professed friendship 
 for Poe, which he endeavors to demonstrate in 
 copies of a correspondence which I cannot refrain 
 from thinking was extensively " doctored " by the 
 doctor, to suit his purpose, we are able to present, 
 perhaps not inappropriately in this place, an ex- 
 tract from an autograph letter of Dr. Griswold, 
 written to Mrs. Whitman in 1849. 
 
 The object of this was evidently to cool Mrs. 
 Whitman's friendship for Mrs. Clemm, thus pre- 
 venting their further intimacy. This was desir- 
 able to Dr. Griswold for evident reasons. 
 
 New York, December 17, 1S49. 
 My dear Mrs. Whitman. 
 
 I have been two or three weeks in Philadelphia, attending 
 to the remains which a recent fire left of my library and fur- 
 niture, and so did not receive 3'our interesting letter in regard 
 to our departed acquaintance until to-day. I wrote, as you 
 suppose the notice of Poe in ''The Tribune,"but very hastily, 
 

 I t ^ >^ ' 
 
 i 1 ii Ipiit ii 
 
 .1 II 
 
 ...Hi? 
 
 ^^M^^M 
 
 
 Sk.-^ 
 
 1 ri^ 11 ^' 
 
 K 
 
 \^-^i 
 
A SIGNIFICANT LETTER. 229 
 
 I was not his friend, nor xvas he mine, as 1 remember to have 
 told jou. I undertook to edit his writings to oblige Mrs. 
 Clemm, and they will soon be published in two thick vol- 
 umes, of which a copy shall be sent to jou. I saw very little 
 of Poe in his last years. ... I cannot refrain from begging 
 you to be very careful what you say or write to Mrs. Clemm, 
 who is not your friend, nor anybody's friend, and who has no 
 element of goodness or kindness in her nature, but whose 
 heart and understanding are full of malice and wickedness. I 
 confide in you these sentences for your own sake only, for 
 Mrs. C. appears to be a very warm friend to me. Pray de- 
 stroy this note, and at least act cautiously, till I may justify 
 it in a conversation with you. 
 
 I am yours very sincerely, 
 
 RuFus W. Griswold. 
 
 This brief note affords a tolerably good speci- 
 men of the utter duplicity of the man. In his 
 printed memoir of Poe, he quotes a correspond- 
 ence indicating professed friendship ; in private, 
 he unequivocally owns that no friendship ever 
 existed betv^een Poe and himself. 
 
 He v^rites that Mrs. Clemm is a friend to no 
 one, and stigmatizes her character ; and in the 
 same breath speaks of her warm friendship for 
 him. This letter, with the testimony of Mrs. 
 Whitman and Mrs. Pabodie, furnishes substan- 
 tial documentary proof of Dr. Griswold's disin- 
 genuousness which cannot, with impunity, be 
 disregfarded. 
 
230 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A, POE. 
 
 While living at Fordham, at this time, Poe is 
 said to have written a book entitled " Phases of 
 American Literature." 
 
 Mr. M. A. Daly has stated that he saw the 
 complete book ; but as nothing is known as to 
 the fate of the manuscript, it is to be inferred 
 that Dr. Grisvv^old, who, of course, had charge 
 of all of Poe's literary papers, found it desirable, 
 to escape further scarifying, to destroy it. 
 
 In the summer of 1849, the poet quitted Ford- 
 ham, and returned to Richmond, partly for the 
 purpose of delivering his lectures, and partly to 
 secure the co-operation of his friends in his 
 enterprise, "The Stylus." He at this time con- 
 tributed to seven different magazines, but would 
 accept no permanent engagement. For " The 
 Messenger," at this time, he wrote his sharp 
 paragraphic papers, "Marginalia," a few poems 
 and several reviews, among which were reviews 
 of Mrs. Osgood and Mrs. Lewis (Stella). With 
 the exception of a brief visit to Philadelphia, 
 he remained in and about Richmond for several 
 months, making his headquarters at the office of 
 "The Messen2"er." 
 
 The editor of "The Messenger" at that time, 
 
ANNECDOTE OF ANNABEL LEE. 23 1 
 
 the late J. R. Thompson, has rehited not a few 
 anecdotes of liis acquaintance with Poe during 
 his latter days 
 
 One of these we recall in connection with one 
 of his truest and most beautiful poems. 
 
 Poe had completed his engagement with "The 
 Messenger," and had called to take leave of 
 Mr. Thompson. He was about to take a trip 
 North for Mrs. Clemm, to bring her South. He 
 was needy, and had asked Mr. Thompson for a 
 loan of five dollars to help out his travelling ex- 
 penses. 
 
 As he was about to go, he turned to Mr. 
 Thompson, saying, "By the way, you have been 
 very kind to me, — here is a little trifle that may 
 be worth something to you ; " and he handed 
 Mr. Thompson a small roll of paper, upon which 
 were written the exquisite lines of" Annabel Lee." 
 
 During this same season, Poe had apparently 
 had better luck than had been his fortune in 
 former times, in obtaining material guarantees 
 for starting " The Stylus," and as late as August 
 in this year, had formed definite plans with Mr. 
 E. H. N. Patterson, for issuing the magazine in 
 July of the following year. 
 
232 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 The followincT letter from Mr. Patterson indi- 
 cates that definite plans had been formed^ It is 
 interesting as being the last allusion anywhere to 
 be found of this fated enterprise of the sanguine 
 but unfortunate poet : 
 
 Oquawka, 111., Aug. 21, 1849. 
 Edgar A. Poe, Esq. 
 
 My Dear Sir, — Yours of the 7th inst. was received last 
 night, and I hasten to reply. I am truly glad to hear that you 
 are recovering your health, and trust it vrill soon be fully re- 
 stored. You cannot enter into the joint publication of a $3 
 Mag. with " your heart in the work." Well, what say yon to 
 this } — 
 
 In publishing a $5 magazine, of 96 pp., monthlj', — page 
 same size as "Graham's," — in bourgeois or brevier (instead of 
 long primer and brevier, as first proposed), it would be neces- 
 sary for me to make an outlay of at least $1100 (this amount 
 including a supply of paper for three months for 2000 copies). 
 Now, if you are sure that, as you before thought, 1000 sub- 
 scribers can be obtained who will pay upon receipt of the 
 first number, then you may consider me pledged to be with 
 you in the undertaking. 
 
 If this proposition meets your approval, you may imme- 
 diately commence your journey to St. Louis — making easy 
 stages through the South, and operating on your Avay — so as 
 to reach that city by the middle of October (say the 15th), 
 keeping me advised of your progress, as yon proceed, by let- 
 ter, sav every two weeks. I will meet you at St. Louis, by 
 the time mentioned, at which time I shall be more at leisure 
 
LETTER FROM MR, PATTERSON. 
 
 233 
 
 than before, and can then settle on arrangements. You may 
 associate my name with jour own in the matter, the same as 
 if I had met you in person. 
 
 Adopt your own title. I leave this matter to you, as be* 
 longing peculiarly to your department. (Remember, how- 
 ever, published simultaneously at New York and St. Louis.) 
 The first number can be issued in July — it is now too late to 
 do it in January, and it would not be advisable to commence at 
 any time other than the beginning or the middle of the year. 
 I will try to be at St. Louis on the 15th of October, if your 
 answer to this be favorable; until which time I bid you God- 
 speed, and beg leave to sign myself. 
 
 Most truly yours, 
 
 Ed. IL N. Patterson. 
 
 P.S. — I send this via St. Louis and Vincennes, and will 
 make a duplicate via Chicago to-morrow. 
 
 Yours, E. H. N. P. 
 
 One of the saddest pictures of Poe's later days, 
 when the dark mantle of a blighting sorrow was 
 enshrouding him, is afforded in an account, 
 which is gathered from an old-time associate of 
 the poet, of his last visit to Philadelphia, which 
 took place at this time. The picture is none the 
 less sad in that some of the poet's happiest hours 
 had been passed ih his cosy little home in that 
 city, years before, with his charming and devoted 
 child-wife, Virginia. 
 
 During this visit, which was made only a 
 
234 ^^^^ ^^ EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 short time previous to his death in Baltimore, 
 Poe was an inmate of the hospitable mansion 
 of the artist and pubhsher,Mr. J. Sartain, widely 
 known as the proprietor of ^' Sartain's Magazine," 
 whose kindness the poet had frequently shared. 
 Fortunate, indeed, would it. have been for Poe 
 had he met with this staunch friend on first 
 reaching the city at this time. Had he fallen 
 into his protecting hands earher, instead of meet- 
 ing with reckless associates, ready as in old times 
 to tempt him to the indulgence inevitably fatal to 
 him, how different might have been his fate ! 
 But it was ordained otherwise. When he finally 
 reached the residence of his kind friend, Poe 
 was in a highly excited condition, almost dis- 
 tracted indeed. His mind seemed bewildered 
 and oppressed with the dread of some fearful 
 conspiracy against his life ; nor could the argu- 
 ments or entreaties of his friend convince him 
 that some deadly foe was not, at that very mo- 
 ment, in pursuit of him. He begged for a razor 
 for the purpose of removing the mustache from 
 his lip, in order, as he suggested, that he might 
 disguise his appearance, and thus baffle his pur- 
 suers. But, unwilling to place such an instru- 
 
LAST VISIT TO PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 235 
 
 ment in his hands, he was prevailed upon to 
 allow his host to effect the desired change upon 
 which he imagined his safety depended. The 
 condition of Poe's mind was such, that Mr. Sar- 
 tain, after persuading him to lie down, remained 
 watching with him through the night with anx- 
 ious solicitude, unwilling to lose sight of the 
 unfortunate sufferer for a moment. The follow- 
 ing night, Poe insisted upon going out. He 
 turned his steps towards the River Schuylkill, 
 accompanied, however, by his devoted friend, 
 whose apprehension was strengthened b}' the 
 vehemence with which, without cessation, he 
 poured forth, in the rich, musical tones for 
 which he w^as distinguished, the fervid imageries 
 of his brilliant but over-excited imagination. The 
 all-absorbing theme which still retained posses- 
 sion of his mind, was the fearful conspiracy that 
 threatened his destruction. Vainly his friend 
 endeavored to re-assure and persuade him. He 
 rushed on with unwearied steps, threading dif- 
 ferent streets, his companion striving to lead him 
 homeward, but still in vain. 
 
 Towards midnight, they reached Fairmount, 
 and ascended the steps leading to the summit, 
 
236 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 Poe all the while giving free scope to the con- 
 versational powers for which he was always 
 remarkable, insisting upon the imminence of his 
 peril, and pleading with touching eloquence for 
 protection. 
 
 In the darkness of the night, the solemn still- 
 ness only broken by the even fall of the water 
 below, in peaceful contrast w4th the wild disorder 
 of the unhappy poet's brain, he seemed a personi- 
 fication of the subject of his own "Raven," — 
 
 ''Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, won- 
 dering, fearing, doubting. 
 Dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before." 
 
 He did not recover from this intense excite- 
 ment until, subsequently escaping from the house, 
 he wandered out into the neighborhood of the 
 city, and, throwing himself down in the open 
 air in a pleasant field, his shattered nerves found 
 a comfortless but sorely needed repose. 
 
 He awoke refreshed; but, like Cassio, "re- 
 membered a mass of things, but nothing dis- 
 tinctly." 
 
 All that he could recall to mind were the en- 
 treaties and persuasions of some " guardian an- 
 
THE UNFORTUNATE TRIP NORTH, 237 
 
 Cfel," who had soucrht to dissuade him from a 
 frightful purpose. He recalled the kind remon- 
 strances, but nothing more, — not even the identity 
 of the friend to whose kind offices he had been 
 indebted. The next day, his friend parted with 
 him, and, as fate ordained, forever.* 
 
 It should be stated that the poet made this 
 unfortunate trip North, in connection with his 
 project of " The Stylus," and not on account of 
 his engagement with Mrs. Shelton, nee Miss 
 Royster, which was offbefore he left Richmond. 
 This affair is explained in our notes, (Note J.) 
 
 At Baltimore, he had the misfortune to meet a 
 friend at the depot who persuaded him to drink. 
 He accepted, with the usual result — actual men- 
 tal derangement, to a degree that at Havre de 
 Grace, the conductor of the train, finding him in 
 a state of delirium, and knowing that he had 
 friends and relatives in Baltimore, brought him 
 back to that city. He arrived at night. It was 
 the eve of a municipal election, and as he was 
 still partially deranged, wandering through the 
 streets, he was seized b}^ the ruffianly agents of 
 one of the political clubs, and locked up for 
 the night for use at the polls in the morning. 
 
 * This incident affords a striking example of Poe's utter 
 irresponsibility for acts committed while under the influence 
 of drugs or stimulants. 
 
238 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE, 
 
 The next day he was taken out, still in a state 
 of delirium, drugged, and made to repeat votes at 
 eleven different wards. 
 
 The following day he was found in the back 
 room of one of the political headquarters, and 
 removed to the Washington University Hospital, 
 situated on Broadway, north of Baltimore street. 
 
 What wonder that an organization as sensitive 
 as his, should have succumbed to the terrible ex- 
 posure and humiliation w^hich had been his lot 
 at the hands of the brutal wTetches among whom 
 he had unwittingly fallen? The exposure, com- 
 bined wdth the effects of liquor and drugs, had 
 brought on an inflammation of the brain, and 
 shortly after midnight of the 7th of October, 
 1849, the unfortunate man breathed his last, 
 surrounded by the few friends and relatives whom 
 it had been possible to notify during the day. 
 
 Mr. Neilson Poe, his cousin, his nearest living 
 male relative, was wath him in his last moments, 
 and took charge of his papers after his death. 
 
 J. J. Moran, M.D., attended the poet at the 
 hospital. During the conversation that passed be- 
 tween the physician and his patient. Dr. Moran 
 asked, wishing to ascertain whether he would be 
 
LAST MOMENTS. 239 
 
 inclined to take liquor, "Will you take some 
 wine ? " " He opened wide his large eyes," writes 
 Dr. Moran, "and fixed them so steadily upon me, 
 and with such anguish in them, that I looked 
 from him to the wall beyond the bed, while he 
 said, ' Sir, if its potency would transport me to 
 the Elysian bowers of the undiscovered spirit 
 world, I would not taste it, — I would not taste it. 
 Of its horrors who can tell ? ' " His last coherent 
 words, as recalled by Dr. Moran,'' were, "It's all 
 over ; write ' Eddie is no more.' "* He had pre- 
 viously-directed that letters be written to Mrs. 
 Shelton, at Norfolk, Virginia, and to Mrs. 
 Clemm, at Lowell, Mass., acquainting them with 
 his illness. 
 
 He was buried on the 8th of October, in the 
 burial ground of the Westminster Church, near the 
 corner of Fayette and Greene streets, Baltimore. 
 
 For months previous to his untimely death, 
 Poe had been carefully abstemious, up to the last 
 week, during which his misfortunes in Philadel- 
 phia and Baltimore occurred ; and the sudden and 
 fearful change, from the most careful and tender 
 
 * " Eddie " was the name which Mrs. Clemm called him by. 
 
240 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 nursing, to the most reckless exposure to the 
 damp and cold of an out-of-doors bed, produced 
 immediate effects, planting the insidious seeds 
 that flowered into deadly bloom, with the aid of 
 his later unfortunate exposure when in the hands 
 of the Baltimore roughs. 
 
 We are prone to accept the most obvious ex- 
 planation of an event as the true explanation or 
 cause of that event. The lesson of experience 
 teaches us that the most obvious anal^^ses are, as 
 a rule, the most deceptive. It is commonly be- 
 lieved, for instance, that Edgar Poe died from 
 the effects of dissipation, which, gradually ^ from 
 long continuance, undermined his constitution. 
 We are convinced that his death is not to be as- 
 signed to any such positive and debasing cause. 
 For many years of his lifetime, spite of all ac- 
 counts to the contrary, he lived happy and com- 
 fortable, in a charming home, with a companion 
 that realized his delicate and refined ideal. The 
 shadow of the destroying angel's hand that first 
 cast its blight upon this companion, was the one 
 great, unlooked-for sorrow that he could not, 
 would not, accept unrepiningly. 
 
 From the moment of his wife's death, he waged 
 an unequal battle with a relentless fate. Well 
 
A RETROSPECTIVE GLANCE. 
 
 knowing his need — the balance and support a) 
 forded by the interchange of spiritual sympathy 
 with a congenial mind — he was deprived even 
 of the possible gratification of this want by the 
 peculiar construction of his mental organism. 
 
 The Upas of his morbid imagination, no longer 
 controlled by the healthful restraints of the pure, 
 simplicity of the atmosphere that his child-wife 
 had thrown around him, twined like a poisonous 
 blight about him, enervating his nobler energies, 
 and, spite of his reason, blasting the healthier 
 aspirations of his genius. 
 
 Poe may be regarded as a man who lived and 
 died never entirely understood, — one who, sen- 
 sitive to a degree altogether incomprehensible to 
 practical minds, yet was so unfortunate as to live 
 among the practical-minded only, and at a time 
 when temperament, as such, was essentially 
 omitted in society's estimate of a man. It was 
 Poe's misfortune that his temperament was totally 
 at variance with the spirit of the age in which he 
 lived. 
 
 In a certain sphere of thought, his ideas were 
 altogether in advance of those of the people with 
 whom he was associated. The world at large 
 was never responsive to him in any significant de- 
 
242 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 gree. It could admire or despise him. It could 
 not sympathize with him, or appreciate him. 
 
 In taking a retrospective glance at the literary 
 career of Edgar A. Poe, and considering it in 
 connection with the undying fame that attaches 
 to his works in prose and poetry, written under 
 circumstances that, undoubtedly, cramped and 
 warped the brilliant possibilities of his original 
 genius, one of his least-quoted poems signifi- 
 cantly suggests itself, as a melancholy but 
 faithful epitome of his life : 
 
 " I stand amid the roar 
 Of a surf-tormented shore, 
 And I hold within my hand 
 Grains of the golden sand — 
 How few, j-et how they creep 
 Through mj fingers to the deep, 
 While I weep — while I weep I 
 O God ! can I not grasp 
 Them with a tighter clasp? 
 O God ! can I not save 
 07ie from the pitiless wave? 
 Is all that we see or seem, 
 But a dream within a dream?" 
 
 THE END. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 How Griswold Secured Poe's Papers — Ephemeral Vindica- 
 tions of the Poet — George R. Graham's Noble Tribute — 
 Mrs. Whitman's Memoir — Some Unpublished Collec- 
 tions — J. H. Ingram's Memoir — Fairfield's Absurd Article 
 in '' Scribner" — Memoirs of Stoddard, Didier, and Memo- 
 rial hy Miss Rice — Extraordinary Catastrophe to the 
 Original Monument to Poe — The Monument Erected 
 November ii, 1875, in Baltimore — The Dedicatory Exer- 
 cises — Addresses — Letters from Distinguished People — 
 Notes. 
 
 ROM a correspondence with Mrs. Clemm, 
 who, there can be no reasonable doubt, 
 is correctly described by Willis as " one 
 of those angels upon earth that women in adver- 
 sity can be," we find the most positive testimony 
 that Dr. Griswold abused the trust confided to 
 him, and that his writing of the mem£)ir was un- 
 authorized. 
 
 It was simply the act of a designing and 
 unscrupulous man, prompted by hatred and 
 greed of gain, taking advantage of a helpless 
 woman, unaccustomed to business, to defraud her 
 
 245 
 
24t) 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 of her rights, and gratify his mahce and his 
 avarice at her expense. 
 
 A small sum having been given to Mrs. 
 Clemm in exchange for Poe's private papers, 
 Dr. Griswold draws up a paper for Mrs. Clemm 
 to sign, announcing his appoinment as Poe's lit- 
 erary executor, not omitting, of course, a touch- 
 ing allusion to himself. This is duly signed by 
 Mrs. Clemm, and printed over her signature in 
 the published editions of Poe's works.* But if the 
 wording of this curious paper be carefully ob- 
 served, it will be noted that nothing whatever is 
 said in it of any request by Poe that Dr. Gris- 
 wold should write a memoir of his life. This 
 duty was properly assigned to Mr. Willis — of 
 all men familiar with the subject, the most com- 
 petent to fulfil such a task, — and his tender and 
 manly tribute to the stricken genius was all that 
 could have been wished, all that the world called 
 for. 
 
 Mrs. Clemm had no idea, at the time she signed 
 the paper, which she scarcely understood, that 
 Dr. Griswold had any intention of supplementing 
 Mr. Willis's obituary with any memoir by his 
 own pen. She was alone and friendless, as the 
 fac-simile of one of her letters, which we print, 
 
 * Thefac-swiile of the letter from Mrs. Clemm, given, shows 
 that she had no interest except in books sold by her personally. 
 
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HOJV GRISWOLD BECAME EXECUTOR. 247 
 
 shows. Griswold, there can be no doubt, took 
 advantage of the circumstances. 
 
 The tone of Poe's critique of Griswold, in his 
 review of the "Poets and Poetry of America,'" 
 which unquestionably inspired the reverend doc- 
 tor's malignant hatred, scathing as it is, will 
 impress the reader with its outspoken manliness 
 and integrity of purpose. What a contrast to 
 the biography that, while undermining the very 
 foundations of Poe's moral and social character, 
 yet hypocritically professes to be dictated by 
 friendship, and written in a " generous " spirit ! 
 We are convinced that Dr. Griswold's equivocal 
 specimen of his generosity will go on record in 
 the history of literature as an everlasting monu- 
 ment of his abuse of a sacred trust. 
 
 It is certainly to be regretted that the vindica- 
 tions of the poet, after his death, were left to the 
 ephemeral fate of newspaper issue only, and that 
 no permanent place has, in any American me- 
 moir of Poe, been given to the manly and spirited 
 defence of the poet, written by George R. Gra- 
 ham, and published in "Graham's Magazine" in 
 1850. 
 
 Mr. Graham was peculiarly fitted to speak of 
 
248 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 the maligned poet, for no one of Poe's literary 
 contemporaries had known him as intimately, 
 both in the mercantile and the domestic relations. 
 
 His testimony to the memory of the stricken 
 genius will, it is to be hoped, be forever em- 
 balmed in all future biographies of the poet ; for, 
 without it, none would be complete. 
 
 We quote it here, as the most important tribute 
 to the poet's personal worth, ever offered by one 
 of his contemporaries. 
 
 My Dear Willis, — 
 
 In an article of yours which accompanies the 
 two beautiful volumes of the writings of Edgar 
 Allan Poe, you have spoken with so much truth 
 and delicacy of the deceased, and, with the 
 magical touch of genius, have called so warmly 
 up before me the memory of our lost friend as 
 you and I both seem to have known him, that I 
 feel warranted in addressing to you the few plain 
 words I have to say in defence of his character 
 as set down by Mr. Griswold. 
 
 Although the article, it seems, appeared origi- 
 nally in the "New York Tribune," it met my 
 eye for the first time in the volumes before me. 
 
GRAHAM'S VINDICATION, 249 
 
 I now purpose to take exception to it in the most 
 public manner. I knew Mr. Poe well, far better 
 than Mr. Griswold ; and by the memory of old 
 times, when he was an editor of ^* Graham," I 
 pronounce this exceedingly ill-timed and unappre- 
 ciative estimate of the character of our lost 
 friend, unfair and untrue. It is Mr. Poe as 
 seen by the writer while laboring under a fit of 
 the nightmare, but so dark a picture has no re- 
 semblance to the LIVING man. Accompanying 
 these beautiful volumes, it is an immortal infamy, 
 the death's head over the entrance to the garden 
 of beauty, a horror that clings to the brow of 
 morning, whispering of murder. It haunts the 
 memory through every page of his writings, 
 leaving upon the heart a sensation of utter gloom, 
 a feeling almost of terror. The only relief we 
 feel is in knowing that it is not true, that it is a 
 fancy sketch of a perverted, jaundiced vision. 
 The man who could deliberately say of Edgar 
 Allan Poe, in a notice of his life and writings 
 prefacing the volumes which were to become a 
 priceless souvenir to all who loved him, that his 
 death might startle many, " but that few would 
 BE GRIEVED BY IT," and blast the whole fame of 
 
250 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 the man by such a paragraph as follows, is a 
 judge dishonored. He is not Mr. Poe's peer, 
 and I challenge him before the country even as a 
 juror in the case : 
 
 " His harsh experience had deprived him of all faith in man 
 or woman. He had made up his mind upon the numberless 
 complexities of the social world, and the whole system with 
 him was an impostui-e. This conviction gave a direction to 
 his shrewd and naturally unamiable character. Still, though 
 he regarded society as composed altogether of villains, 
 the sharpness of his intellect was not of that kind which en- 
 abled him to cope with villainy, while it continually caused 
 him, by overshots, to fail of the success of honesty. He was 
 in many respects like Francis Vivian in Bulwer's novel of 
 'The Caxtons.' Passion, in him, comprehended many of 
 the worst emotions which militate against human happiness. 
 You could not contradict him, but you raised quick choler; 
 
 YOU COULD NOT SPEAK OF WEALTH, BUT HIS CHEEK PALED 
 
 WITH GNAWING ENVY. The astonishing natural advantages 
 of this poor boj^, — his beauty, his readiness, the daring spirit 
 that breathed around him like a fiery atmosphere, had raised 
 his constitutional self-confidence into an arrogance that turned 
 his very claims to admiration into prejudices against him. 
 Irascible, envious, bad enough, but not the worst, for 
 these salient angles were all varnished over with a cold, re- 
 pellant cynicism ; his passions vented themselves in sneers. 
 There seemed to him no moral susceptibility; and, 
 wtiat was more remarkable in a proud nature, little 
 or nothing of the true point of honor. He had, too, 
 
GRAHAM'S VINDICA TION. 
 
 251 
 
 a morbid excess, that desire to rise which is vulgarly called 
 ambition, but no wish for the esteem or the love of his spe- 
 cies ; only the hard wish to succeed, — not shine, nor serve, — ■ 
 succeed, that he might have the right to despise a world 
 which galled his self-conceit." 
 
 Now this is dastardly, and, what is worse, it 
 is false. It is very adroitly done, with phrases 
 very well turned, and with gleams of truth shin- 
 ing out from a setting so dusky, as to look devil- 
 ish. Mr. Griswold does not feel the worth of 
 the man he has undervalued ; he had no sym- 
 pathies in common with him, and has allowed 
 old prejudices and old enmities to steal, insensi- 
 bly perhaps, into the coloring of his picture. 
 They were for years totally uncongenial, if not 
 enemies, and during that period Mr. Poe, in a 
 scathing lecture upon "The Poets of America," 
 gave Mr. Griswold some raps over the knuckles 
 of force sufficient to be remembered. He had, 
 too, in the exercise of his functions as critic, put 
 to death summarily the literary reputation of 
 some of Mr. Griswold's best friends ; and their 
 ghosts cried in vain for him to avenge them dur- 
 ing Poe's lifetime ; and it almost seems as if 
 the present hacking at the cold remains of him 
 
252 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 who struck them down, is a sort of compensa- 
 tion for duty long delayed, for reprisal long de- 
 sired, but deferred. But without this, the oppor- 
 tunities afforded Mr. Griswold to estimate the 
 character of Poe occurred, in the main, after his 
 stability had been wrecked, his whole nature in 
 a degree changed, and with all his prejudices 
 aroused and active. Nor do I consider Mr. Gris- 
 wold COMPETENT, with all the opportunities he 
 may have cultivated or acquired, to act as his 
 judge, to dissect that subtle and singularly fine 
 intellect, to probe the motives and weigh the ac- 
 tions of that proud heart. His whole nature, 
 that distinctive presence of the departed, which 
 now stands impalpable, yet in strong outline be- 
 fore me, as I knew him and felt him to be, 
 eludes the rude grasp of a mind so warped and 
 uncongenial as Mr. Griswold's. 
 
 But it may be said, m^y dear Willis, that Mr. 
 Poe himself deputed him to act as his literary 
 executor, and that he must have felt some confi- 
 dence, in his abihty at least, if not in his integri- 
 t}", to perform the functions imposed, with discre- 
 tion and honor. I do not purpose, now, to enter 
 into any examination of the appointment of Mr. 
 
GRAHAM'S VINDICATION. 
 
 253 
 
 Griswold, nor of the wisdom of his appoint- 
 ment, to the solemn trust of handing the fair 
 fame of the deceased, unimpaired, to that posterity 
 to which the dying poet bequeathed his legacy, 
 but simply to question its faithful performance. 
 Among the true friends of Poe in this city — and 
 he had some such here — there are those, I am 
 sure, that he did not class among villains ; nor 
 do THEY feel easy when they see their old friend 
 dressed out, in his grave, in the habiliments of a 
 scoundrel. There is something to them in this 
 mode of procedure on the part of the literary ex- 
 ecutor that does. not chime in with their notions 
 of "the true point of honor." They had all of 
 them looked upon our departed friend as singu- 
 larly indifferent to wealth for its own sake, but 
 as very positive in his opinions that tlie scale of 
 social merit was not of the highest ; that mind, 
 somehow, was apt to be left out of the estimate 
 altogether ; and, partaking somewhat of his free 
 way of thinking, his friends are startled to find 
 they have entertained very unamiable convic- 
 tions. As to his " quick choler " when he was 
 contradicted, it depended a good deal upon the 
 party denying, as well as upon the subject dis* 
 
254 
 
 APPENDIX, 
 
 cussed. He was quick, it is true, to perceive 
 mere quacks in literature, and somewhat apt to 
 be hasty when pestered with them ; but upon 
 most other questions his natural amiability was 
 not easily disturbed. Upon a subject that he 
 understood thoroughly, he felt some right to be 
 positive, if not arrogant, when addressing pre- 
 tenders. His " astonishiniT natural advantacjes " 
 HAD been very assiduously cultivated ; his " dar- 
 ing spirit " was the anointed of genius ; his self- 
 confidence the proud conviction of both ; and it 
 was with something of a lofty scorn that he at- 
 tacked, as well as repelled, a crammed scholar 
 of the hour, who attempted to palm upon him his 
 ill-digested learning. Literature with him was 
 religion; and he, its high priest, with a whip 
 of scorpions, scourged the money-changers from 
 the temple. In all else, he had the docility and 
 kind-heartedness of a child. No man was more 
 quickly touched by a kindness, none more prompt 
 to return for an injury. For three or four years 
 I knew him intimately, and for eighteen months 
 saw him almost daily, much of the time writing 
 or conversing at the same desk, knowing all his 
 hopes, his fears, and little annoyances of life, as 
 
GRAHAM'S VINDICATION. 255 
 
 well as his high-hearted struggle with adverse 
 fate; yet he was always the same polished gen- 
 tlemen, the quiet, unobtrusive, thoughtful scholar, 
 the devoted husband, frugal in his personal ex- 
 penses, punctual and unwearied in his industry, 
 AND THE SOUL OF HONOR in all liis transactions. 
 This, of course, was in his better days, and by 
 them WE judge the man. But even after his 
 habits had changed, there was no literary man to 
 whom I would more readily advance money for 
 labor to be done. He kept his accounts, small 
 as they were, with the accuracy of a banker. I 
 append an account sent to me in his own hand, 
 long after he had left Philadelphia, and after all 
 knowledge of the transactions it recited had es- 
 caped my memory. 1 had returned him the story 
 of " The Gold Bug," at his own request, as he 
 found that he could dispose of it very advanta- 
 geously elsewhere : — 
 
 We were square when I sold you the "Versification" 
 article, for which jou gave me, first, $25, and after- 
 wards $7 —in all $3200 
 
 Then you bought " The Gold Bug " for . . . 5- 00 
 
 I got both these- back, so that I owed . . • $^4 00 
 You lent Mrs. Clemm 12 50 
 
 Making in all $9^50 
 
256 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 The review of "Flaccus" was 33-4 pp., 
 
 which, at $4, is $15 00 
 
 Lowell's poem is 10 00 
 
 The review of Channing, 4 pp., is $i6, of 
 
 which I got $6, leaving ... 10 00 
 
 The review of Halleck, 4 pp., is $16, of 
 
 which I got $10, leaving ... 600 
 
 The review of Reynolds, 2 pp. . . 8 00 
 
 The review of Longfellow, 5 pp., is $20, 
 
 of which I got $10, leaving ... 10 00 
 
 So that I have paid in all ... 59 00 
 
 Which leaves still due by me ... $37 50 
 
 This, I find, was his uniform habit with others 
 as well as myself, carefully recalling to mind his 
 indebtedness with the fresh article sent. And 
 this is the man who had " no moral susceptibil- 
 ity," and little or nothing of the "true point of 
 honor." It may be a very plain business view of 
 the question, but it strikes his friends that it may 
 pass as something, as times go. 
 
 I shall never forget how solicitous of the hap- 
 piness of his wife and mother-in-law he was 
 whilst one of the editors of " Graham's Maga- 
 zine ; " his whole efforts seemed to be to procure 
 the comfort and welfare of his hom.e. Except 
 for their happiness, and the natural ambition of 
 
GRAHAM'S VINDICATION. 257 
 
 having a magazine of his own, I never heard him 
 deplore the w^ant of wealth. The truth is, he 
 cared little for money, and knew less of its value, 
 for he seemed to have no personal expenses. 
 What he received from me, in regular monthly 
 instalments, went directly into the hands of his 
 mother-in-law for family comforts, and twice 
 only I remember his purchasing some rather ex- 
 pensive luxuries for his house, and then he was 
 nervous to the degree of misery until he had, by 
 extra articles, covered what he considered an im- 
 prudent indebtedness. His love for his wife was 
 a sort of rapturous worship of the spirit of beauty 
 which he felt was fading before his eyes. I have 
 seen him hovering around her when she was ill, 
 with all the fond fear and tender anxiety of a 
 mother for her first-born, her slightest cough caus- 
 ing in him a shudder, a heart-chill that was visible. 
 I rode out, one summer evening, with them, and 
 the remembrance of his watchful eyes eagerly bent 
 upon the slightest change of hue in that loved 
 face haunts me yet as the memory of a sad strain. 
 It was the hourly anticipation of her loss that 
 made him a sad and thoughtful man, and lent a 
 mournful melody to his undying song. 
 
Z^S APPENDIX. 
 
 It is true, that later in life Poe had much of 
 those morbid feelings which a life of poverty and 
 disappointment is so apt to engender in the heart 
 of man — the sense of having been ill-used, mis- 
 understood, and put aside by men of far less 
 ability, and of none, — which preys upon the heart 
 and clouds the brain of many a child of song. 
 A consciousness of the inequalities of life, and of 
 the abundant power of mere wealth, allied even 
 to vulgarity, to override all distinctions, and to 
 thrust itself, bedaubed with dirt and glittering 
 with tinsel, into the high places of society, and 
 the chief seats of the synagogue ; whilst he, a 
 worshipper of the beautiful and true, who listened 
 to the voices of angels and held delighted com- 
 panionship with them as the cold throng swept 
 disdainfully by him, was often in danger of 
 being thrust out, houseless, homeless, beggared, 
 upon the world, with all his fine feelings strung 
 to a tension of agony when he thought of his 
 beautiful and delicate wife, dying hourly before 
 his eyes. What wonder that he then poured out 
 the vials of a long-treasured bitterness upon the 
 injustice and hollowness of all society around 
 him. 
 
GRAHAM'S VINDICATION. 259 
 
 The very natural question "Why did he not 
 work and thrive?" is easily answered. It will 
 not be ASKED by the many who know the preca- 
 rious tenure by which literary men hold a mere 
 living in this country. The avenues through 
 which they can profitably reach the country are 
 few, and crowded with aspirants for bread, as 
 well as fame. The unfortunate tendency to 
 cheapen every literary work to the lowest point 
 of beggarly flimsiness in price and profit, pre- 
 vents even the well-disposed from extending 
 anything like an adequate support to even a part 
 of the great throng which genius, talent, educa- 
 tion, and even misfortune, force into the struggle. 
 The character of Poe's mind was of such an order 
 as not to be very widely in demand. The class 
 of educated mind which he could readily and prof- 
 itably address was small — the channels through 
 which he could do so at all were few — and 
 publishers all, or nearly all, contented with such 
 pens as were already engaged, hesitated to incur 
 the expense of his to an extent which would suffi- 
 ciently remunerate him ; hence, when he was 
 fairly at sea, connected permanently with no 
 publication, he suffered all the horrors of pro- 
 
26o APPENDIX. 
 
 spective destitution, with scarcely the ability of 
 providing for immediate necessities ; and at such 
 moments, alas ! the tempter often came, and 
 as you have truly said, " one glass " of wine 
 made him a madman. Let the moralist, who 
 stands upon "tufted carpet," and surveys his 
 smoking board, the fruits of his individual toil 
 or mercantile adventure, pause before he let the 
 anathema, trembling upon his lips, fall upon a 
 man like Poe, who, wandering from publisher 
 to publisher, with his fine, print-like manuscript, 
 scrupulously clean and neatly rolled, finds no 
 market for his brain — with despair at heart, 
 misery ahead, for himself and his loved ones, and 
 gaunt famine dogging at his heels, thus sinks by 
 the wayside, before the demon that watches 
 his steps and whispers oblivion. Of all the 
 miseries which God, or his own vices, inflict 
 upon man, none are so terrible as that of having 
 the strong and willing arm struck down to a 
 childlike inefiiciency, while the Heart and the 
 Will have the purpose of a giant's out-doing 
 We must remember, too, that the very organiza- 
 tion of such a mind as that of Poe — the very 
 tension and tone of his exquisitely strung nerves — 
 
GRAHAM'S VINDICATION. 261 
 
 the passionate yearnings of his soul for the 
 beautiful and true, utterly unfitted him for the 
 rude jostlings and fierce competitorship of trade. 
 The only drafts of his that could be honored 
 were those upon his brain. The unpeopled 
 air — the caverns of ocean — the decay and mys- 
 tery that hang around old castles — the thunder 
 of wind through the forest aisles — the spirits 
 that rode the blast, by all but him unseen — and 
 ■the deep, metaphysical creations which floated 
 through the chambers of his soul — were his only 
 wealth, the High Change where only his signa- 
 ture was valid for rubies. 
 
 Could he have stepped down and chronicled 
 small beer, made himself the shifting toady of 
 the hour, and, with bow and cringe, hung upon 
 the steps of greatness, sounding the glory of 
 third-rate ability with a penny trumpet, he would 
 heve been feted alive, and perhaps been praised 
 when dead. But, no ! his views of the duty of 
 the critic were stern, and he felt that in praising 
 an unworthy writer he committed dishonor. His 
 pen was regulated by the highest sense of duty. 
 By a keen analysis he separated and studied each 
 piece which the skilful mechanist had put to- 
 
262 APPENDIX, 
 
 gather. No part, however insignificant or appar- 
 ently unimportant, escaped the rigid and patient 
 scrutiny of his sagacious mind. The unfitted 
 joint proved the bungler — the slightest blemish 
 was a palpable fraud. He was the scrutinizing 
 lapidary, who detected and exposed the most 
 minute flaw in diamonds. The gem of first 
 water shone the brighter for the truthful setting 
 of his calm praise. He had the finest touch of 
 soul for beauty — a delicate and hearty apprecia- 
 tion of worth. If his praise appeared tardy, it 
 was of priceless value when given. It was true 
 as well as sincere. It was the stroke of honor 
 that at once knighted the receiver. It was in the 
 world of MIND that he was king; and, with a 
 fierce audacity, he felt and proclaimed himself 
 autocrat. As critic, he was despotic, supreme. 
 Yet no man with more readiness would soften a 
 harsh expression at the request of a friend, or if 
 he himself felt that he had infused too great a 
 degree of bitterness into his article, none would 
 more readily soften it down after it was in type — 
 though still maintaining the justness of his criti- 
 cal views. I do not believe that he wrote to give 
 pain ; but in combating what he conceived to be 
 
GRAHAM'S VINDICA TION. 
 
 263 
 
 error, he used the strongest word that presented 
 itself, even in conversation. He labored not so 
 much to reform as to exterminate error, and 
 thought the shortest process was to pull it up by 
 the roots. 
 
 He was a worshipper of intellect — long- 
 ing to grasp the power of mind that moves 
 the stars — to bathe his soul in the dreams of 
 seraphs. He was himself all ethereal, of a fine 
 essence, that moved in an atmosphere of spirits 
 — of spiritual beauty, overflowing and radiant — 
 twin-brother with the angels, feeling their flash- 
 ing wings upon his heart, and almost clasping 
 them in his embrace. Of them, and as an ex- 
 pectant archangel of that high order of intellect, 
 stepping out of himself, as it were, and interpret- 
 ing the time he revelled in delicious luxury in a 
 w^orld beyond, with an audacity which we fear in 
 madmen, but in genius worship as the inspiration 
 of heaven. 
 
 But my object, in throwing together a few 
 thoughts upon the character of Edgar Allan Poe, 
 was not to attempt an elaborate criticism, but to 
 say what might palliate grave faults that have 
 been attributed to him, and to meet by facts un- 
 
264 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 just accusation ; in a word, to give a mere out- 
 line of the man as he lived before me. I think I 
 am warranted in saying to Mr. Griswold that he 
 must review iiis decision. It will not stand the 
 calm scrutiny of his own judgment, or of time, 
 while it must be regarded by all the friends of 
 Mr. Poe as an ill-judged and misplaced calumny 
 upon that gifted son of genius. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 Geo. R. Graham. 
 Philadelphia, February 2, 1850. 
 To N. P. Willis, Esq. 
 
 Numerous other memoirs and biographies of 
 Poe have also appeared since his death. Many 
 of them have been founded upon Griswold's, and 
 have already been alluded to. Such should be 
 dismissed without other consideration than that 
 they have unquestionably had, aside from the 
 unjust estimate which they have conveyed of the 
 poet, a deteriorating effect upon the popularity 
 of his works, both in America and England. 
 The effect of the Griswold biography upon the 
 intelligent reader may be exactly measured by 
 the impression formed by an English reviewer of 
 
MEMOIRS OF POE. 265 
 
 another biography, founded upon Griswold's ; 
 to wit, — 
 
 " Should any man of taste and sense, not ac- 
 quainted with Poe, be so unfortunate as to look 
 at Dr. Griswold's preface before reading the 
 poetr}^ it is extremely probable he will throw 
 the book into the fire, in indignation at the self- 
 conceit and afiected smartness by which the 
 preface is characterized." 
 
 In 1859, Mrs. S. H. Whitman, in her volume 
 "Edgar Poe and his Critics," which we have had 
 occasion to repeatedly commend in this volume, 
 made a most valuable contribution to literary 
 biography, and offered a significant tribute to 
 the memory of Poe, which was probably not 
 fully appreciated, issued, as it was, at a time when 
 the country was disturbed and unsettled by the 
 excitements of the impending civil war. 
 
 Mr. James Woods Davidson made a very 
 complete collection of Poe material, which was, 
 unfortunately, destroyed during the seige of 
 Charleston. 
 
 Mr. Thomas Cottrell Clarke made a collection 
 which he eventually disposed of, and to which 
 we have had access in the preparation of this 
 work. 
 
266 APPENDIX. 
 
 It is not to be regretted that Mr. Clarke never 
 completed and published his memoir, for although 
 a near personal friend of the poet, he was lack- 
 ing in the enterprise and determination necessary 
 to the adequate fulfilment of such a task. 
 
 Mr. John H. Ingram, of London, prefaced the 
 Edinburgh edition of Poe with a friendly memoir, 
 which serves a purpose in vindicating the poet. 
 
 Mr. R. H. Stoddard wrote an interesting sketch 
 for Routledge's London edition of Poe's Poems, 
 and is now (March, 1880) preparing an enlarged 
 memoir for Mr. Widdleton. 
 
 Mr. Edmund Clarence Stedman has prepared 
 (March, 1880) a valuable critical essay on the 
 poet's writings for Scribner's Magazine. 
 
 Mr. Thomas C. Latto, now of Brooklyn, New 
 York, has made a collection, designing, it is 
 understood, to write a memoir of the poet. 
 
 Francis Gerry Fairfield wrote a paper, entitled 
 "A Mad Man of Letters," for "Scribner's Maga- 
 zine," October, 1875, in which he presumed to 
 class the author of "The Raven" as an epileptic. 
 The article was written, like many others con- 
 cerning Poe, with a reckless disregard of facts, 
 and was unanswerably controverted by Mrs. S. H. 
 
MEMOIRS OF POE. 267 
 
 Whitman, in a letter published in "The New 
 York Tribune." 
 
 Mr, Eugene Didier, of Baltimore, has written 
 a biographical sketch of the poet, prefacing a 
 new edition of Poe, issued by W. J. Widdleton, 
 of New York. 
 
 Miss Sarah E. Rice, of Baltimore, aided by 
 Wm. Hand Browne, Esq., of that city, has pre- 
 pared a memorial volume, containing an account 
 of the monument erected in Baltimore to the 
 memory of the poet, and some interesting remi- 
 niscences of Poe by one of his schoolmates. 
 
 The late J. R. Thompson wrote a lecture on 
 Poe, which w^as, w^e are informed, dehvered in 
 Baltimore. These, with our lecture, " The Ro- 
 mance of Edgar A. Poe," our vindication of the 
 poet originally published in "Lotos Leaves," 
 and subsequently in the Diamond edition of Poe's 
 poems, issued by Widdleton, and our reminiscen- 
 ces of the poet in "Laurel Leaves," comprise the 
 principal isolated papers on Poe, not founded on 
 Griswold, that have been published, aside from 
 tlie sketches to be found in the cyclopedias, and 
 the numerous contributions that have, from time 
 to time, appeared in the newspapers. 
 
Z6S APPENDIX, 
 
 Before alluding to the most significant public 
 tribute ever offered to the memory of Poe, the 
 erection of the monument dedicated at Baltimore 
 in November, 1875, it should be stated that the 
 impression that no fitting marks of respect to the 
 dead poet, have ever been offered by his relatives, 
 is erroneous. A suitable slab, bearing the in- 
 scription, ^^ Hie tandem fcliee eondmitiir Rel- 
 iquiae, Edgar Allan Poe," w^as prepared by the 
 order of Neilson Poe, Esq. 
 
 But the relentless fate that pursued the unhappy 
 poet during his lifetime, followed him after death, 
 and a phenomenal catastrophe prevented the 
 erection of the slab over his grave. 
 
 On the day before it was to have been erected, 
 a freight train on the Northern Central Railroad 
 jumped the track, and ran into the marble yard, 
 near by the depot, in which the slab was placed, 
 awaiting transportation to the cemetery. The 
 slab was directly in the course of the heavy train, 
 and was shivered to atoms. 
 
 Poe's grave, therefore, remained neglected 
 until efforts of the Baltimore School Teachers 
 Association, and the munificence of George W. 
 Childs, Esq., of Philadelphia, secured the sub- 
 
DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 
 
 269 
 
 stantial monument now placed over his tomb." 
 The interesting ceremonies of the dedication took 
 place November 17, 1875. The account here 
 given is gathered from the graphic description 
 published in "The Cincinnati Commercial," and 
 from the Baltimore papers of November 18. 
 
 "For several years, the school teachers of this 
 city have been accumulating a fund for the pur- 
 pose of erecting a suitable memorial above the 
 last resting-place of this rare genius, and they 
 were generously aided in their efforts by Geo. 
 "W. Childs, of Philadelphia, whose donation 
 amounted to nearly half the cost of the monu- 
 ment. The ceremonies of unveiling this memo- 
 rial to-day were most interesting. Crowds were 
 assembled at the western female high school, 
 adjoining Westminster Church, where, ten years 
 ago, the first entertainment on behalf of the 
 movement w^as given. 
 
 " Professor Elliott gave a history of the move- 
 ment, while Professor Shepherd's scholarly pro- 
 duction treated more exclusively of ^ Poe as a 
 poet and man of genius.'* 
 
 "The reminiscences of Mr. Latrobe were de- 
 livered in a most impressive manner, and were 
 received with the greatest enthusiasm. 
 
2^0 APPENDIX, 
 
 "Miss Rice, who has always been most active 
 in the work, read letters from our own poets who 
 were unable to attend, and also one from Alfred 
 Tennyson; and Mr. W. F. Gill, of Boston, who 
 has done much, by his earnest vindication of the 
 poet's memory, to remove false impressions, gave 
 the finest rendition of ^ The Raven ' to which we 
 ever listened. The large audience was absolutely 
 spell-bound by his perfect elocution ; and his re- 
 semblance to the recognized ideals of Mr. Poe 
 himself, made the personation of his horror and 
 despair almost painful. 
 
 "A few words by Mr. Neilson Poe, cousin of 
 the poet, who was present at his burial, twenty- 
 six years ago, expressing gratification at the 
 completion of the work undertaken by the com- 
 mittee, concluded the exercises in the hall. 
 
 "While the monument was being unveiled, a 
 dirge was sung, and a superb wreath of laurel 
 and choice flowers, the contribution of the dra- 
 matic profession, of which Poe's mother was a 
 member, was placed upon it; after which "An- 
 nabel Lee" was recited in the same masterly 
 manner by Mr. Gill, and a lady gave a very good 
 rendition of ' The Bells.' 
 
DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT, 271 
 
 " The monument is a plain Grecian obelisk of 
 purest marble upon a granite base, and at present 
 is only ornamented with a medallion bust of the 
 poet, with his name and the dates of his birth and 
 death. An inscription written by Tennyson is to 
 be added hereafter. 
 
 "The day was lovely, though rather windy 
 and cold, and, to-night, the pale beams of the 
 moon will shine on the grave — no longer neg- 
 lected—of Edgar Allan Poe." 
 
 The platform at the head of the hall was 
 filled with a number of gentlemen. Principals 
 of the high schools, those who were to take 
 part in the exercises, gentlemen who had been 
 acquaintances or associates of the poetic genius 
 in honor of whose memory the meeting was held, 
 and other invited guests. Among them was prom- 
 inent the venerable head of Walt Whitman, the 
 poet, his silver hair sweeping his shoulders ; Prof. 
 John Hewitt, once editor of the "Saturday Visi- 
 tor," in which Poe's weird story of " The Manu- 
 script Found in a Bottle " first appeared ; Dr. John 
 H. Snodgrass, also a former editor of the "Visi- 
 tor," Prof. N. C. Brooks, who edited the" Ameri- 
 can Magazine," in which some of Poe's earliest 
 
272 
 
 APPENDIX, 
 
 productions appeared, and Prof. Joseph Clarke, a 
 very venerable gentleman, whose school at Rich- 
 mond, Virginia, had been attended by Poe when 
 a boy, were also upon the platform. Among 
 others were Prof. J. C. Kinear, of Pembroke 
 Academy; Dr. N. H. Morison, provost of Pea- 
 body Institute; John T. Morris, Esq., president 
 of the School Board ; the Rev. Dr. Julius E. 
 Grammer, Judge Garey, Joseph Merrefield, Esq., 
 Dr. John G. Morris, Neilson Poe, Esq., Ichabod 
 Jean, Esq., Summeriield Baldwin, Joseph J. 
 Stewart, Esq., Professors Tha3^er and Hollings- 
 head, John T. Ford, Esq., George Small, Esq., 
 the Faculty of the Baltimore City College, M. A. 
 Newell, Esq., State School Superintendent, as 
 v/ell as those who were to take part in the pro- 
 ceedings. The exercises began shortly after two 
 o'clock with the performance of the " Pilgrims' 
 Chorus" of Verdi, by the Philharmonic Society, 
 who occupied raised seats in the rear of the hall, 
 under the direction of Professor Remington Fair- 
 lamb. 
 
 At the close of the music, Professor William 
 Elliott, Jr., president of the Baltimore City Col- 
 lege, delivered the following address, contain- 
 ing the 
 
DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 273 
 HISTORY OF THE MOVEMENT. 
 
 "Ladies and Gentlemen, — I purpose, in dis- 
 charging the duty assigned me on this occasion, 
 to give a brief historical shetch of the movement 
 which culminates, to-day, in the dedication of a 
 monument to the memory of the great American 
 poet, Edgar Allan Poe, the first and only memo- 
 rial expression of the kind ever given to an 
 American on account of literary excellence. 
 
 "This extraordinary and unique genius, born 
 in Boston, January 20, 1809, during a brief so- 
 journ of his parents in that place, died on the 7th 
 of October, 1849, ^^ ^^'^^ ^^^y* which is undoubt- 
 edly entitled to claim him as one of her distin- 
 guished sons. Two days thereafter, on the 9th 
 of October, his mortal remains were interred in 
 the cemetery attached to the Westminster Pres- 
 byterian Church, adjoining the building in which 
 we are now assembled. 
 
 "In this connection, acting as a truthful chroni- 
 cler, I deem it proper to state some facts in rela- 
 tion to the circumstances of the interment. The 
 reliability of the statement I shall now make is 
 sufficiently attested by the evidence of at least 
 three of the gentlemen present on that occasion 
 — possibly the only three who yet survive. 
 
274 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 " I have been informed that the day was, for the 
 season, more than ordinarily unpleasant, the wea- 
 ther being raw and cold ; indeed, just such a day 
 as it w^ould have been more comfortable to spend 
 within than without doors. 
 
 "The time of the interment was about four 
 o'clock in the afternoon ; the attendance of per- 
 sons at the grave, possibly a consequence of the 
 state of the weather, was limited to eight, cer- 
 tainly to not more than nine, persons, one of 
 these being a lady. 
 
 " Of the number known to have been present 
 were, Hon. Z. Collins Lee, a classmate of the 
 deceased at the University of Virginia ; Henry 
 Herring, Esq., a connection of Mr. Poe ; Rev. 
 W. T. D. Clemm, a relative of Mr. Poe's wife; 
 oui well-known fellow-citizen, Neilson Poe, Esq., 
 a cousin of the poet; Edmund Smith, Esq., and 
 wife, the latter being a first cousin of Poe, and 
 at this time his nearest living relative in this city, 
 and possibly Dr. Snodgrass, the editor of the 
 "Saturday Visitor," the paper in which the prize 
 story wTitten by Poe first made its appearance. 
 The clergyman who ofiiciated at the grave was 
 Rev. W. T. D. Clemm, already mentioned, a 
 
DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 275 
 
 member of the Baltimore Conference of the Me- 
 thodist Episcopal Church, who read the impres- 
 sive burial service used by that denomination of 
 Christians, after which, all that was mortal of Ed- 
 gar Allan Poe was gently committed to its mothei 
 earth, 
 
 " Another item, which it may not be inappropri- 
 ate to record in this historical compend, I will 
 now mention, namely, that George W. Spence, 
 who officiated as sexton at the burial of Mr. Poe, 
 is the same person who, after the lapse of twenty- 
 six years, has superintended the removal of his 
 remains, and those of his loving and beloved 
 mother-in-law, Mrs. Clemm, and their re-inter- 
 ment in the lot in which the monument now 
 stands. 
 
 " For a number of years after the burial of the 
 poet, no steps seem to have been taken toward 
 making his grave, until, at length, a stone was 
 prepared for this purpose by order of Neilson 
 Poe, Esq. Unfortunately, however, this stone 
 never served the purpose for which it was de- 
 signed. A train of cars accidentally ran into 
 the establishment of Mr. Hugh Sisson, at which 
 place the stone was at the time, and so damaged 
 it as to render it unfit to be used as intended. 
 
2^6 APPENDIX, 
 
 "Another series of years intervened, but yet no 
 movement to mark the grave. True, articles al- 
 most innumerable, ad, nauseam^ made their ap- 
 pearance at short intervals during that time in 
 different newspapers, but the authors of those 
 articles were mostly of that class of persons who 
 employ their energies in finding fault with others, 
 totally oblivious of the fact that they themselves, 
 no less, deserved the censure they so liberally 
 meted out to others. 
 
 "'Poe's neglected grave 'was the stereotyped 
 expression of these modern Jeremiahs. Nor were 
 they content to indulge in lamentations ; not un- 
 frequently our good city was soundly berated 
 because of its alleged want of appreciation of 
 the memory of one wdiose ashes, they intimated, 
 had he been an Englishman, instead of filling an 
 unmarked grave in an obscure cemetery, would 
 have had accorded to them a place in that grand 
 old abbey which England has appropriated as a 
 mausoleum for her distinguished dead. 
 
 " But the * neglected grave * was not always to 
 remain such. At a regular meeting of the Pub- 
 lic School Teachers' Association, held in this hall, 
 October 7, 1865, Mr. John Basil, Jr., principal of 
 
DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 277 
 
 No. 8 Grammar School, offered a paper, of which 
 the following is a copy : — 
 
 '* ' Whereas it has been represented to certain members of 
 the Association that the mortal remains of Edgar Allan Poe, 
 are interred in the cemetery of the Westminster Church, with- 
 out even so much as a stone to mark the spot; therefore, 
 
 "' Resolved that a committee of five be appointed by the 
 president of this Association to devise some means best 
 adapted, in their judgment, to perpetuate the memory of one 
 who has contributed so largely to American literature.' 
 
 "This resolution was unanimously adopted, and 
 a committee, consisting of Messrs. Basil, Baird 
 and J. J. G. Webster, Miss Veeder and Miss 
 Wise, appointed to carry out the purpose named. 
 
 "This committee reported in favor of the erec- 
 tion of a monument, and recommended that 
 measures be at once taken to secure the funds 
 necessary to accomplish this object. This rec- 
 ommendation was heartily indorsed by the Asso- 
 ciation, and, without delay, the committee entered 
 upon the work of raising the funds. 
 
 " ] r* this work the 3^oung ladies of the western 
 female high school took an active and, as will 
 be seen, a successful part. An entertainment of 
 select readings by the pupils of that school, held 
 
278 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 in this hall, on the evening of October 10, 1865, 
 under the superintendence of Miss S. S. Rice, 
 yielded the handsome sum of $380. A literary 
 and musical entertainment, held in Concordia 
 Hall, December 7, 1865, in which the pupils of 
 the eastern and western female high schools and 
 those of Baltimore City College took part, in- 
 creased the fund by the addition thereto of $75 -P^' 
 May 15, 1866, a contribution of $50 was received 
 from Prof. Charles Davies, of New York, and on 
 the 19th of the same month a donation of $54 
 was received as an offering of the young ladies 
 of ' Troy Female Seminary.' These sums, with 
 interest added, amounted, as per report of Thomas 
 D. Baird, treasurer, submitted March 23, 1871, 
 to $587.02. The enthusiasm that characterized 
 the undertaking at the outset seemed now to 
 have greatly abated, and serious thoughts were 
 consequently entertained of abandoning the pro- 
 ject. At this juncture, a new committee, con- 
 sisting of Messrs. Elliott, Kerr and Hamilton, 
 IMiss Rice and Miss Baer, was appointed to con- 
 sider the matter. 
 
 "After mature deliberation this committee re- 
 ported, April 15, 1872, as follows; "First, re- 
 
DEDICATION OF THE MOUUMENT. 279 
 
 solved, that the money now in the hands of the 
 treasurer of the ' Poe Memorial Fund,' be appro- 
 priated to the erection of a monument, the same 
 to be placed over Poe's remains. Second, that a 
 committee of five be appointed by the president, 
 with power to act as stated in the first resolution." 
 These resolutions were adopted, and the com- 
 mittee therein provided for, appointed as follows : 
 Wm. Elliott, Jr., A. S. Kerr, Alexander Hamil- 
 ton, Miss S. S. Rice and Miss E. A. Baer. 
 September 2, 1874, this committee received, from 
 the estate of Dr. Thomas D. Baird, deceased, 
 the late treasurer of the ' Poe Memorial Fund,' 
 $627.55, the amount of principal and interest to 
 that date, which was immediately deposited in 
 the Chesapeake Bank, of this city. Believing 
 that this amount could be increased to $1000 by 
 donations from some of our fellow-citizens who 
 favored the project, the committee applied to Mr. 
 George A. Frederick, architect of the City Hall, 
 for the design of a monument to cost about that 
 sum. 
 
 "Mr. Frederick, in due time, submitted a design 
 'at once simple, chaste and dignified,' but re- 
 quiring for its realization much more than the 
 
23o APPENDIX 
 
 amount included in the expectations of the 
 committee. Moreover, a new feature \-\'as now 
 introduced, that of placing a medallion likeness 
 of the poet on one of the panels of the monu- 
 ment, which would still further increase the cost. 
 With a view of determining whether the amount 
 necessary to complete the monument, according 
 to the proportions it had now assumed, could be 
 raised, applications were made to a number of 
 our citizens for contributions. From one, of ac- 
 knowledged aesthetic taste, a check of $ioo was 
 promptly received. Two other gentlemen con- 
 tributed $50 each, while Miss S. S. Rice, a 
 member of the committee, collected in small 
 sums $52 more. 
 
 "A knowledge of the 'world-wide' known lib- 
 erality of Mr. George W. Childs, of Philadelphia, 
 formerly one of cur fellow townsmen, induced 
 the chairman of the committee to drop him a 
 note on the subject. Within twenty-four hours, a 
 reply was received from that gentleman, expres- 
 sive of his willingness to make up the estimated 
 deficiency of $650. 
 
 " The necessary amount having now been se- 
 cured, the committee proceeded to place the con- 
 
DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 28 1 
 
 struction and erection of the monument in the 
 hands of Mr. Hugh Sisson, his proposal being 
 the most Hberal one received. How faithfully 
 he has executed his commission will be seen when 
 the covering that now veils the monument is re- 
 moved. No one, so well as the chairman of the 
 committee, knows how anxious Mr. Sisson has 
 been to meet even more than the expectations of 
 those most concerned. To his generous liber- 
 ality are we largely indebted for the reproduc- 
 tion of the classic lineaments of the poet, in the 
 beautiful and highly artistic medallion that adds 
 so much to the attractiveness of the monument. 
 
 "To most of those present, I presume, it is 
 known that the lot in which the monument is 
 now located is not the one in which it was first 
 placed. In deference to what was considered by 
 the committee the popular wish, the monument 
 was removed from its first location to its present 
 one. The remains of Mr. Poe, and also those 
 of his mother-in-law, were, as before intimated, 
 removed at the same time. The new lot was 
 secured mainly through the efforts of INIr. John 
 T. Morris, president of the school board, to 
 whom, and to all others who have in any way 
 
282 APPENDIX, 
 
 contributed to the consummation of this under- 
 taking, I wish here, on behalf of the committee, 
 to render thanks. 
 
 "In conclusion, allow me to congratulate all 
 concerned that Poe's grave is no longer a 
 neglected one." 
 
 Upon the conclusion of Professor Elliott's ad- 
 dress, which was listened to with deep attention, 
 Miss Sarah S. Rice was introduced to the audi- 
 ence. To this lady, well known to the public 
 from her elocutionary attainments, the greatest 
 possible credit is due for the successful comple- 
 tion of the enterprise. The first mone}' raised 
 for the erection of the monument was through 
 her personal efforts, and the entire monument, 
 from its inception to the close, has enjoyed the 
 benefits of her unremitting attention and effort. 
 Miss Rice read the folio win gr 
 
 LETTERS FROM THE POETS, 
 III resj}07ise to Invitations to he pj-eseiit 07i the Occasion, 
 
 FROM MR. BRYANT. 
 
 CuMMiNGTON, Mass., September iS, 1S75. 
 Dear Madam, — I return mj thanks for the obliging invi- 
 tation contained in jour letter of the 14th. and for the kind 
 words with which it is accompanied. For various reasons, 
 
LETTERS FROM THE POETS. 2S3 
 
 Lowever, among which is my advanced age, it is nol in my 
 power to be present at the ceremonies of which jou speak, 
 and I have only to make my best acknowledgment to those 
 who have done me the honor to think of me in connection 
 with them. I am, madam, truly yours, 
 
 W?/i. C. Bryant. 
 Miss S. S. Rice. 
 
 FROM MR. LOWELL. 
 
 Cambridge, i8th October, 1875. 
 Dear Madam, — I regret very much that it will be quite 
 impossible for me to be present at the very interesting cere- 
 mony of unveiling the monument to Poe. I need not assure 
 you that I sympathize very heartily with the sentiment which 
 led to its erection. 
 
 I remain very truly yours, 
 
 J. R. Lowell. 
 Miss Sarah S. Rice, Cor. Sec. of the 
 Poe Monument Association, Baltimore. 
 
 TROM MRS. WHITMAN. 
 
 Providence, R.I., November 5, 1875. 
 Miss Sarah S. Rice. 
 
 My dear Madam, — Your most kind and gratifying letter, 
 conveying to me an invitation to be present at the unveiling 
 of the monument to the memory of our great American poet, 
 was duly received. I need not say to you that the generous 
 eiforts of the association in whose behalf you write have 
 called forth my warmest sympathy and most grateful appre- 
 ciation. The work was long delayed, and has been consum- 
 
284 APPENDIX. 
 
 mated at the right time, and through the most congenial and 
 appropriate agencies. 
 
 I am, most sincerely and most gratefully, j'ours, 
 
 Sarah Helen Whitman. 
 
 FROM MR. WIIITTIER. 
 
 Amesbury, 9th mo., 21, 1875. 
 To Sarah S. Rice. 
 
 Dear friend, — The extraordinary genius of Edgar A. Poe 
 is now acknowledged the world over, and the proposed trib- 
 ute to his memory indicates a full appreciation of his own 
 intellectual gifts on the part of the city of his birth. As a 
 matter of principle, I do not favor ostentatious monuments 
 for the dead, but sometimes it seems the only way to express 
 the appreciation which circumstances, in some measure, may 
 have denied to the living man. 
 
 I am not able to be present at the inauguration of the mon- 
 ument. Pray express my thanks to the ladies and gentlemen 
 for whom thy letter speaks, for the invitation. Acknowledg- 
 ing the kind terms in which that invitation was conveyed on 
 thy part, I am very truly thy friend, 
 
 JOHX G. WlIITTIER. 
 
 FROM DR. HOLMES. 
 
 Boston, September 18, 1875. 
 Dear Miss Rice, — In answer to your kind invitation, I re- 
 gret that I cannot say that I hope to be present at the cere- 
 mony of placing a monument over the grave of your poet. 
 Your city has already honored valor and patriotism by the 
 
LETTERS FROM THE POETS. 2S5 
 
 erection of stately columns. Republics arc said to be un- 
 grateful, perhaps because they have short memories, forget- 
 ting wrongs as quickly as benefits. But your city has shown 
 that it can remember, and has taught us all the lesson of 
 gratitude. No one, surely, needs a mausoleum less than the 
 poet. 
 
 His monument shall be his gentle verse, 
 Which eyes not yet created shall o'erread ; 
 
 And tongues to be, his being shall rehearse 
 When all the breathers of this world arc dead. 
 
 Yet we would not leave him without a stone to mark the spot 
 where the hands that *' waked to ecstacy the living lyre " were 
 laid in the dust. He that can confer an immortality which 
 will outlast bronze and granite deserves this poor tribute, not 
 for his sake so much as ours. The hearts of all who rever- 
 ence the inspiration of genius, who can look tenderly upon 
 the infirmities too often attending it, who can feel for its mis- 
 fortunes, will sympathize with you as you gather around the 
 resting place of all that was mortal of Edgar Allan Poe, and 
 raise the stone inscribed with one of the few names which 
 will outlive the graven record meant to perpetuate its remem- 
 brance. 
 
 Believe me very truly yours, 
 
 O. W. Holmes. 
 
 FROM MR. ALDRICII. 
 
 Boston, Mass., October 10, 1875. 
 Sarah S. Rice, Cor. Sec. 
 
 Dear Madam, — I hasten to acknowledge the receipt of your 
 letter inviting me to attend the inaugural ceremonies of the 
 monument to Edgar Allan Poe. It is with the deepest regret 
 
286 APPENDIX. 
 
 that I find myself unable to accept the invitation. 1 have 
 ;ust returned from a long absence abroad, and my private 
 affairs demand my closest attention. The duties and engage- 
 ments which I have been obliged to put aside during the past 
 six or seven months leave me no time to -write anything that 
 would serve your purpose. But for this, I would come in per- 
 son to lay my tribute, with the other more worthy offerings, 
 on Poe's grave. Your desire to honor his genius is in the 
 heart of every man of letters, though perhaps no American 
 author stands so little in need of a monument to perpetuate 
 his memory as the author of "The Raven." His imperisha- 
 ble fame is in all lands. 
 
 Vv^ith thanks for your courtesy, I remain, 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 Thomas Bailey Aldrich. 
 
 FROM MRS. PRESTON. 
 
 Lexington, Virginia, October 8. 
 Miss Sarah S. Rice. 
 
 Dear Madam, — Your note and request, so complimentary 
 to myself, has been received. 
 
 I thank you for the good opinion which led you to propose 
 the writing of a poem on my part for the prospective inaugu- 
 ration of the Poe Memorial. While it is not in my power to 
 comply with the flattering request, or to be present at the 
 ceremonial, I tender to the committee my thanks, neverthe- 
 less, for the honor thus conferred on me. 
 
 There would seem to be a slight appropriateness in the 
 proposal made to me, inasmuch as my husband (Colonel 
 Preston, of the Virginia Military College) was a boyish 
 friend of Poe's when they went to school together in Rich- 
 
LETTERS FROM THE POETS. 28^ 
 
 moiid : who used to sit on the same bench with liim, and 
 together pore over the same pages of " Horace." To him, as 
 his earliest literary critic — a boj of fourteen — Poe was accus- 
 tomed to bring his first verses. Even then, youth as he was, 
 he was distinguished by many of the characteristics which 
 marked his after-life. 
 
 With every good wish for the entire success of your me- 
 morial services, and with renewed thanks to your committee 
 for this mark of regard, believe me, my dear madam, sincerely 
 
 jours, 
 
 Margaret J. Preston. 
 
 FROM MR. SAXE. 
 
 Brooklyn, N.Y., October 10, 1875. 
 
 To Sarah S. Rice, Professor of Elocution, Baltimore, 
 Maryland : — Of all my letters received during a long confine- 
 ment by sickness, yours of the 5th instant is the first I have 
 attempted to answer. I employ the hand of another (for I 
 am not yet able to write) to thank you for the kind invitation 
 you send me to assist at the Poe Monument ceremonies, on the 
 15th instant. 
 
 As I cannot hope to be present on that occasion, I avail 
 myself of your friendly note to express my interest in the 
 event, and my admiration of the noble-hearted men and women 
 of Baltimore, who, by the creation of a beautiful and appro- 
 priate monument to the memory of Edgar A. Poe, perform a 
 patriotic oflice which was primarily and peculiarly the dutj', 
 as it should have been the pride, of the American literati^ 
 toward one whose original genius has done so much to adorn 
 and distinguish Amei-ican literature. 
 
 Yours very truly, 
 
 John Godfrey Saxe. 
 
zSS APPENDIX. 
 
 Prof. Elliot read the following letter from G. 
 W. Childs, of Philadelphia, regretting that he 
 could not be present : — 
 
 Philadelphia, November 15, 1875. 
 It would be very agreeable to mj regard for the memory of 
 Edgar A. Poe to accept your invitation to be present at the 
 dedicatory ceremonies of the Poe Monument, on the 17th 
 inst., but it is quite improbable that I can be with you on that 
 occasion. There is a mournful satisfaction, even in this late 
 tribute to one whose rare genius and sensitive nature were 
 accompanied by so many unhappy experiences of life. Poor 
 Poe ! His working-day world was more than full of sorrows, 
 and he seems to have been happy only in his visions outside 
 of real life, or in his dream of a world beyond that in which 
 we all live. 
 
 What is now being done by the affectionate friends, and by 
 those who feel that injustice has been done to his memory, 
 may prove to be the starting point of a changed and juster 
 view of his life and character. Although it is far too late to 
 be of service to hiin, it is not too late to be of benefit to our- 
 selves and others. Those of us who may have felt disposed 
 to censure him, can read with profit the following lines from 
 his "Tamerlane," and especially the last couplet: — 
 " I firmly do believe — 
 
 I know — for Death, who comes for me 
 
 From regions of the blest afar, 
 
 Where there is nothing to deceive, 
 
 Hath left his iron gate ajar, 
 
 And rays of truth you cannot see 
 
 Are flashing through eternity." 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 George W. Childs. 
 
LETTERS FROM THE POETS. 2S9 
 
 JOSIAH GILBERT HOLLAND. 
 
 New York, Oct. 11, 1875. 
 Dear Madam — On the 15th of this month I am to be in 
 "Wilmington, Ohio, for a lecture ; and on the eve of a long 
 Western trip I find myself so crowded with important duties 
 that I cannot even write the letter I have in my heart. I am 
 very glad thegeniusof Poe is to be formally recognized by cere- 
 mony and monument, as it has been long appreciated by un- 
 told thousands of people wherever the English language is 
 spoken. I am sorry I cannot be present at the inaugural cere- 
 monies ; but you will not miss me. I shall only miss you, 
 . and the loyal throng who will gather to bring the dead poet 
 their honors. Thanking you kindly for your invitation, 
 
 I am yours truly, 
 
 J. G. Holland. 
 
 ALFRED TENNYSON. 
 
 Faringford, Freshwater, Isle of Wight, Jan. 12, 1875. 
 I have long been acquainted with Poe's works and am an 
 admirer of them. I am obliged to you for your expressions 
 about myself, and your promise of sending me the design for 
 the poet's monument, and beg you to believe me, 
 
 Yours very truly, 
 
 A. Tennyson. 
 
 henry WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 Cambridge, August 20, 1875. 
 Dear Madam, — The only lines of Mr. Poe that I now re- 
 call as in any way appropriate to the purpose you mention 
 are from a poem entitled ''For Annie." They are, — 
 ♦• The fever called living 
 Is conquered at last." 
 
290 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 But I dare say you will be able to find something better 
 In great haste, Yours truly, 
 
 Henry W. Longfell6\v. 
 
 FROM A PERSONAL FRIEND. 
 
 Brooklyn, N.Y., October 11, 1875. 
 
 My Dear Miss Rice, — My friend John G. Saxe, to whom 
 you wrote in regard to the " Poe Monument Association," is 
 quite unwell ; indeed, is confined to his room, and fears he 
 will not be able to answer your kind request. If, however, 
 he shall be able, he will at least write you. In the mean time, 
 at his suggestion, allow me, a personal friend and warm ad- 
 mirer of both the genius and personal worth of our lamented 
 friend, to say to you and to the association a few words. 
 
 I have resided and practised my pi-ofession of the law in 
 Brooklyn for about thirty years. Shortly after I moved here, 
 in 1845, Mr. Poe and I became personal friends. His last 
 residence, and where I visited him oftenest, was in a beautiful 
 secluded cottage at Fordham, fourteen miles above New York. 
 It was there I often saw his dear wife during her last illness, 
 and attended her funeral. It was from there that he and his 
 '-^ dear Muddie" (Mrs. Clemm) often visited me at my house, 
 frequently, at my urgent solicitation, remaining many days. 
 When he finally departed on his last trip South, the kissing 
 and hand-shaking were at my front door. He was hopeful ; 
 we were sad, and tears gushed in torrents as he kissed his 
 *' dear Muddie " and my wife " good-bye." Alas ! it proved, 
 as Mrs. Clemm feared, a final adieu. 
 
 A few months afterwards, on receipt of the sad news of his 
 death, I oftered Mrs. C. a home in my family, where she re- 
 sided till 1S58, when she removed to Baltimore to lay her 
 ashes by the side of her darling Eddie. I hold many of her 
 
LETTERS FROM THE POETS. 291 
 
 precious, loving, grateful letters to me from there, up to a 
 few dajs before her death. 
 
 And now, as to Mr. Poe, he was one of the most f.ffection- 
 ate, kind-hearted men I ever knew. I never witnessed so 
 much tender affection and devoted love as existed in that 
 family of three persons. 
 
 His dear Virginia, after her death, was his "Lost Lenore.'* 
 I have spent weeks in the closest intimacy with Mr. Poe, and 
 I never saw him drink a drop of liquor, wine or beer, in my 
 life, and never saw him under the slightest influence of any 
 stimulants whatever. He was, in truth, a most abstemious 
 and exemplary man. But I learned from Mrs. Clemm that 
 if, on the importunity of a convivial friend, he took a single 
 glass, even wine, it suddenly flashed through his nervous 
 system and excitable brain, and that he was no longer him- 
 self, or responsible for his acts. His biographers have not 
 done his virtues or his genius justice ; and to produce a start- 
 ling effect, by contrast, have magnified his errors and attrib- 
 uted to him faults which he never had. He was always, in my 
 presence, the polished gentleman, the profound scholar, the 
 true critic, and the inspired oracular poet; dreaming and 
 spiritual ; lofty but sad. His memory is green and fresh in 
 many admiring and loving hearts, and your work of erecting 
 a monument over his grave, if it adds nothing to his fame, 
 reflects honor on you and your association, and upon all who 
 sympathize or assist in your noble work. 
 
 I am proud to assure you, and the association through you, 
 that his many friends are grateful and thank you. 
 '• What recks he of their plaudits now? 
 He never deemed them worth his care, 
 And death has twined around his brow 
 The wreath he was too proud to wear." 
 
 Yours truly, S. D. Lewis, 
 
292 APPENDIX, 
 
 FROM A. C. SWINBURNE. 
 
 {Fro7n the N. T. Tribufie, Nov. 27, 1872.) 
 The following letter from the poet Swinburne — addressed 
 to Miss Sarah S. Rice, the director of the Poe Memorial Com- 
 mittee — was received in Baltimore too late to be read at the 
 dedication of the monument. It indicates the sympathy ol 
 genius with genius ; and it affords another illustration of the 
 high estimate that English critical thought has placed upon 
 the writings of Poe : — 
 
 HOLMWOOD, ShIPLAKE, \ 
 
 Henley-on-Thames, Nov. 9, 1875. J 
 Sarah S. Rice. 
 
 Dear Madam, — I have heard, wuth much pleasure, of the 
 memorial at length raised to jour illustrious fellow-citizen. 
 
 The genius of Edgar Poe has won, on this side of the At- 
 lantic, such wade and warm recognition that the sympathy, 
 which I cannot hope fitly or fully to express in adequate 
 words, is undoubtedly shared at this moment by hundreds, as 
 far as the news may have spread throughout, not England 
 only, but France as well ; where, as I need not remind you, 
 the most beautiful and durable of monuments has been reared 
 to the genius of Poe, by the laborious devotion of a genius 
 equal and akin to his own ; and where the admirable trans- 
 lation of his prose works — by a fellow-poet, whom also we 
 have to lament before his time — is even now being perfected 
 by a careful and exquisite version of his poems, with illustra- 
 tions full of the subtle and tragic force of fancy which impelled 
 and moulded the original song ; a double homage, due to the 
 loyal and loving co-operation of one of the most remarkable 
 younger poets, and one of the most powerful leading painters 
 in France — M. Mallarme and M. Manet. 
 
WILLIAM WINTER'S POEM, 293 
 
 It is not for me to offer anj tribute here to the fame of jour 
 great countryman, or dilate, with superfluous and intrusive 
 admiration, on the special quality of his strong and delicate 
 genius — so sure of aim, and faultless of touch, in all the 
 better and finer part of work he has left us. 
 
 I would only, in conveying to the members of the Poe Me- 
 morial Committee my sincere acknowledgment of the honor 
 they have done me in recalling my name on such an occa- 
 sion, take leave to express my firm conviction that, widely as 
 the fame of Poe has already spread, and deeply as it is already 
 rooted in Europe, it is even now growing wider and striking 
 deeper as time advances ; the surest presage that time, the 
 eternal enemy of small and shallow reputations, will prove, 
 in this case also, the constant and trusty friend and keeper of 
 a true poet's full-grown fame. 
 
 I remain, dear madam, yours very truly, 
 
 A. C. Swinburne. 
 
 After the conclusion of the letters the following 
 poem, contributed by the well-known dramatic 
 critic and litUrateur^ Mr. William Winter, was 
 read by Miss Rice, with exquisite delicacy and 
 utterance, and received with a burst of applause : 
 
 AT POE's grave. 
 
 Cold is the p53ean honor sings, 
 
 And chill is glory's icy breath, 
 And pale the garland memory brings 
 
 To grace the iron doors of death. 
 
294 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Fame's echoing thunders, long and loud, 
 The pomp of pride that decks the pall, 
 
 The plaudits of the vacant crowd — 
 One word of love is worth them all. 
 
 With dews of grief our eyes are dim ; 
 
 Ah, let the tear of sorrow start, 
 And honor, in ourselves and him, 
 
 The great and tender human heart! 
 
 Through many a night of want and woe, 
 His frenzied spirit wandered wild — 
 
 Till kind disaster laid him low. 
 
 And heaven reclaimed its wayward child. 
 
 Through many a year his fame has grown.— 
 Like midnight, vast, like starlight, sweet.— 
 
 Till now his genius fills a throne. 
 And nations marvel at his feet. 
 
 One meed of justice long delayed, 
 One crowning grace his virtues crave : — 
 
 Ah, take, thou great and injured shade. 
 The love that sanctifies the grave ! 
 
 God's mercy guard, in peaceful sleep. 
 The sacred dust that slumbers here ; 
 
 And, while around this tomb ive weepy 
 God bless, for us, the mourner's tear I 
 
 And may his spirit, hovering nigh. 
 
 Pierce the dense cloud of darkness through, 
 
 And know, with fame that cannot die. 
 He has the world's affection, too I 
 
DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 
 
 295 
 
 The Philharmonic Society then rendered the 
 grand chorus, " He, Watching over Israel," from 
 the "EHjah" of Mendelssohn, with fine effect. 
 
 ADDRESS OF PROF. HENRY E. SHEPHERD. 
 
 "Ladies and Gentlemen, — It is my purpose 
 to speak of Edgar A. Poe, principally as a poet 
 and as a man of genius. I shall abstain, for the 
 most part, from personal incidents or biographical 
 details. These, though not devoid of interest, 
 pertain properly to the historian of literature or 
 to the biographer. Let his 'strange, eventful 
 history ' be reserved for some American Masson, 
 Boswell or Morlen. 
 
 "Edgar A. Poe was born in 1809, the birth year 
 of Alfred Tennyson, and of Mrs. Browning, the 
 most gifted poetess of any age. The third great 
 era in English letters had then fairly commenced. 
 The spirit of the elder day was revived ; the 
 delusive splendor that had so long gilded the 
 Augustan age of Addison, of Bolingbroke and 
 of Johnson, paled before the marvellous intellect- 
 ual expansion, the comprehensive culture, that 
 distinguished the first thirty years of the present 
 century ; the genius of poesy, no longer circum- 
 
296 APPENDIX, 
 
 • 
 scribed by artificial limits, no longer restrained 
 
 by the arbitrary procedures of a reflective age, 
 ranged in unchecked freedom, reviving the buried 
 forms of mediaeval civilization, the lay of the min- 
 strel, the lyric of the troubadour, the forgotten 
 splendors of the Arthurian cycle. One day was 
 as a thousand years in the growth and develop- 
 ment of the human mind. 
 
 "Edgar was in his childhood when our last great 
 literary epoch had attained the full meridian of 
 its greatness. He spent five years at school in 
 England, from 1816 to 182 1. The term of Edgar's 
 school life in England was a period of intense 
 poetic activity and creative form, heroic emprise, 
 knightly valor, and brilliant achievement. In 
 1822, Edgar, then in his fourteenth year, returned 
 to his native land. He attained to manhood at a 
 time when, by a revolution familiar in the history 
 of every literature, the supremacy was reverting 
 from poetry to prose. The cold generalizations 
 of philosophy chilled the glowing ardor of the 
 preceding epoch. The publication of Macaulay's 
 'Essay on Milton ' in 1825 marks the transition 
 from the sway of the imaginative faculty to the 
 present unsurpassed period in our prose literature. 
 
DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 297 
 
 From this desultory outline of English literature 
 during the early 3''ears of the poet, you will ob- 
 serve that his intellectual constitution was formed 
 under peculiar circumstances. He does not be- 
 long chronologically to the age of Shelley, Byron 
 and Keats ; his position is one of comparative 
 isolation, like that of Wyatt, Sackville or Col- 
 lins, in the midst of an unpoetic generation, un- 
 sustained by the sw^eet consolations of poetic 
 association, or the tender endearments of poetic 
 sympathy. When he attained to the conscious- 
 ness of his great powers, none of those stimulat- 
 ing influences existed, save as matters of history 
 or poetic tradition. Tennyson in England was 
 viewing nature in perspective, and involving his 
 critics in mazes as tangled as the web which 
 enveloped the fated Lady of Shalott. Words- 
 worth had abjured the teachings of his early 
 manhood. Shelley, Keats and Byron were 
 dead. Morris and Swinburne were yet unborn, 
 and the thrones of the elder gods were principally 
 filled by the *Idle singers of an empty day.' 
 American poetry had then produced little that 
 'future ages will not willingly let die.' 
 
298 APPENDIX, 
 
 poe's masterpiece. 
 *^ Having traced the conditions of the era during 
 which the poet's mind was blooming into matu- 
 rity, we are now prepared to appreciate the dis- 
 tinctive characteristics of his genius, as revealed 
 in his prose, and especiall}^ in his poetry. It is 
 known to students of our literature that in all 
 ages of our literary history, from the time that 
 our speech w^as reduced to comparative uni- 
 formity by the rare perception and philological 
 discrimination of Chaucer, there have existed 
 two recognized schools of poets, the native or 
 domestic, and the classical. In some poets the 
 classical element is the animating principle, as 
 in Milton, whose pages, ^sprinkled with the 
 diamond dust of classic lore,' 'thick as autum- 
 nal leaves that strew the brooks in Vallambrosa,' 
 afford the most impressive illustration of its 
 power. A wonderful impulse was communi- 
 cated to the development of classical poetry, by 
 that ' morning star of modern song,' the poet 
 Keats, and since his advent our poetry has 
 tended, more and more, to divest itself of native 
 sympathies, and to assume an artistic or literary 
 character. Our poetry may have lost pliancy, 
 
DEDICA TION OF THE MONUMENT. 299 
 
 but it has gained in elaboration and perfection 
 of structure. Genius and imagination are not 
 repressed, but are regulated by the canons of 
 art, and from their harmonious alliance arises 
 the unsurpassed excellence of Poe's poetry. In 
 the school of literary or classical poets he must 
 be ranked in that illustrious procession which 
 includes the names of Milton, Ben Jonson, Her- 
 rick, Shelley and Keats. Having assigned to 
 Poe an honorable eminence in the school of 
 classical poets, I proceed to speak of the origin- 
 ality, the creative power, displayed in his poetry, 
 as well as his brilliant achievements in metrical 
 combination. Specific points of resemblance 
 may be discovered between his poetry and that 
 of his contemporaries or predecessors, but no gen- 
 eral or well-defined likeness, and few poets have 
 displayed a more surpassing measure of creative 
 power. Some of his maturer poems are almost 
 without precedent, in form as well as in spirit. 
 The 'Legend of the Raven,' related by Roger 
 De Hoveden, and referring to the era of 
 the Latin conquest of Constantinople, nor the 
 'Legend of Herod Agrippa,' cited by De Q^iin- 
 cey in his celebrated 'Essay on Modern Super- 
 
300 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 stition,' furnishes an adequate foundation lor the 
 text of Poe's masterpiece. The raven has con- 
 stituted a prominent character in Enghsh poetry 
 for many ages. In ^Hamlet,' in 'Macbeth,' in 
 'Sir David Lindsay,' in Tickell's exquisite ballad 
 of 'Colin and Lucy,' the appearance of this 
 ominous bird of yore will readily suggest itself 
 to all lovers of our dramatic and lyric poetry. 
 But none of these can be considered as the pre- 
 cursor of Poe's 'Raven.' The nearest approach 
 to any distinctive feature of 'The Raven' is to 
 be found, I suspect, in the dramas of Shak- 
 speare, those unfailing sources of intellectual 
 nutriment. The one word, ' Mortimer,' of Harry 
 Percy's 'Starling,' presents a marked phonetic 
 resemblance to the 'Nevermore' of 'The Ra- 
 ven,' whose melancholy refrain seems almost the 
 echo of the 'Starling's' unvarying note. No 
 poem in our language presents a more graceful 
 grouping of metrical appliances and devices. 
 The power of peculiar letters is evolved with a 
 magnificent touch ; the thrill of the liquids is a 
 characteristic feature, not only of the refrain, but 
 throughout the compass of the poem, their 'linked 
 sweetness, long drawn out,' falls with a mellow 
 
DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 301 
 
 cadence, revealing the poet's mastery of those 
 mysterious harmonies which He at the basis of 
 human speech. The continuity of the rhythm, 
 illustrating Milton's ideal of true musical delight, 
 in which the sense is variously drawn out from 
 one verse into another, the alliteration of the 
 Norse minstrel and the Saxon bard, the graphic 
 delineation and sustained interest, are some of 
 the features which place 'The Raven' foremost 
 among the creations of a poetic art in our age 
 and clime. 
 
 "Another distinguishing characteristic of Poe's 
 poetry is its rhythmical power and its admirable 
 illustration of that mysterious affinity which binds 
 together the sound and the sense. Throughout 
 all the processes of nature, a rhythmical move- 
 ment is clearly discernible. Upon the conscious 
 recognition of this principle are based all our 
 conceptions of melody, all systems of intonation 
 and inflection. In this dangerous sphere of 
 poetry, he won a mastery over the properties of 
 verse that the troubadours might have aspired 
 to emulate. 
 
 CLASSIC ELEMENTS. 
 
 "Permit me next to direct your attention to the 
 
3o: 
 
 APPENDIX, 
 
 classic impress of Poe's poetry, its blending of 
 genius and culture, and to the estimation in 
 which his productions are held in other lands. 
 The Athenian sculptor, in the palmiest days of 
 Grecian art, wrought out his loveliest conceptions 
 by the painful processes of unflagging diligence. 
 The angel was not evolved from the block by a 
 sudden inspiration or a brilliant flash of unpre- 
 meditated art. By proceeding upon a system 
 corresponding to the diatonic scale in music, the 
 luxuriance of genius was regulated and directed 
 by the sober precepts and decorous graces of 
 formal art. No finer illustration of conscious art 
 has been produced in our century than *The 
 Raven.' In all the riper productions of our 
 poet, there is displayed the same graceful alliance 
 of genius, culture and taste. He attained a mas- 
 tery over the most diflicult metrical forms, even 
 those to whose successful production the spirit 
 of the English tongue is not congenial. The 
 sonnet, that peculiarly Italian type of verse 
 immortalized by the genius of Petrarch, a form 
 of verse in which few English writers have suc- 
 ceeded, has been admirably illustrated in Poe's 
 'Zante.' Indeed, much of the acrimony of his 
 
DEDICATION OF TUB MONUMENT. 303 
 
 criticism arose from his painful sensitiveness to 
 artistic imperfection and his enthusiastic worship 
 of the beautiful. The Grecian cast of his genius 
 led to a pantheistic love of beauty incarnated in 
 palpable or material forms. This striving after 
 sensuous beauty has constituted a distinctive 
 characteristic of those poets who were most 
 thoroughly imbued with the Grecian taste and 
 spirit. It has left its impress deep upon the tex- 
 ture of our poetry, and many of its most silvery 
 symphonies owe their inspiration to this source. 
 In addition to the classic element, his poetry is 
 pervaded by that magic of style, that strange 
 unrest and unreality, those weird notes, like the 
 refrain of his own ^ Raven,' 'so musical, so 
 melancholy,' which are traceable to the Celtic 
 influence upon our composite intellectual char- 
 acter. The quick sensibility, the ethereal temper 
 of these natural artists, have wonderfully enliv- 
 ened the stolid character of our Anglo-Saxon 
 ancestors, and much of the style and consecutive 
 power that have reigned in EngHsh poetry from 
 the days of Lajamon, Walter Mapes, and of 
 Chaucer, Tiay be attributed to the Celtic infusion 
 into the Teutonic blood. Conspicuous examples 
 
304 
 
 APPENDIX, 
 
 of its power may be discovered in Shakspeare, 
 in Keats, in Byron and in Poe. 
 
 poe's genius. 
 " I have thus endeavored to present to you the 
 intellectual character of Edgar A. Poe as it has 
 revealed itself to me from the diligent study of 
 his works, and from many contrasts and coinci- 
 dences that literary history naturally suggests. 
 I have attempted to show the versatile character 
 of his genius, the consummate, as wxll as con- 
 scious, art of his poetry, the graceful blending 
 of the creative and the critical faculty, — a com- 
 bination perhaps the rarest that the history of 
 literature affords, — his want of deference to pro- 
 totypes or models, the chaste and scholarly ele- 
 gance of his diction, the Attic smoothness and 
 the Celtic magic of his style. Much of what he 
 has written may not preserve its freshness, or 
 stand the test of critical scrutiny in after-times, 
 but when subjected to the severest ordeal of vary- 
 ing fashion, popular caprice, the ' old order 
 changing, yielding place to new,' there is much 
 that w^ill perish only with the English language. 
 The riper productions of Poe have received the 
 
DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 305 
 
 most enthusiastic tributes from the sober and dis- 
 passionate critics of the Old World. I shall 
 ever remember the thrill of grateful appreciation 
 with which 1 read the splendid eulogium upon 
 the genius of Poe in 'The London Qj^iarterly 
 Review,' in which he is ranked far above his 
 contemporaries, and pronounced one of the most 
 consummate artists of our era, potentially the 
 greatest critic that ever lived, and possessing 
 perhaps the finest ear for rhythm that was ever 
 formed. You are doubtless familiar with the 
 impressions produced by ' The Raven ' upon the 
 mind of Mrs. Browning, 'Shakspeare's daugh- 
 ter and Tennyson's sister.' It is but recently 
 that one of the master spirits of the new poetic 
 schools has accorded to Poe the pre-eminence 
 among American poets. Alfred Tennyson has 
 expressed his admiration, who, with true poetic 
 ken, was among the first to appreciate the nov- 
 elty and the delicacy of his method, and who, at 
 a time when the laureate's fame was obscured by 
 adverse and undiscerning criticism, plainly fore- 
 saw the serene splendor of his matured greatness. 
 An appreciative and generous Englishman has 
 recently added to the treasures of our literature 
 
3o6 APPENDIX, 
 
 a superb edition of liis works,* in which ample 
 recognition is accorded to his rare and varied 
 powers, and the slanders of his acrimonious 
 biographer are refuted by evidence that cannot 
 be gainsaid or resisted. No reader of English 
 periodical literature, can fail to observe the fre- 
 quent allusions to his memory, the numerous 
 tributes to his genius, that have appeared in 'The 
 Athen£eum,' 'The Academy,' the British quar- 
 terlies, and the translations of the new Shak- 
 speare Society. Nor is this lofty estimate of his 
 poems confined to those lands in which the Eng- 
 lish language is the vernacular speech ; it has 
 extended into foreign climes, and aroused appre- 
 ciative admiration where English literature is 
 imperfectly known and slightly regared. 
 
 "Let us rejoice that Poe's merits have found 
 appropriate recognition, and that the Poets' 
 Corner in our Westminster is rescued from the 
 ungrateful neglect which, for a quarter of a cen- 
 tury, has constituted the just reproach of our 
 State and metropolis. I recognize in the dedi- 
 cation of this monument to the memory of our 
 
 ♦Edition of Adams and Charles Black, Edinburgh. 
 
DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 
 
 1P1 
 
 poet an omen of highest and noblest import, 
 looking far beyond the mere preservation of his 
 fame by the 'dull, cold marble' which marks 
 his long-neglected grave. The impulse which 
 led to its erection coincides in form and spirit 
 with those grand movements which the zeal and 
 enthusiasm of scholars and patriots in Great 
 Britain and in America have effected within the 
 past ten years for the perpetuation of much that 
 is greatest in the poetry of the English tongue. 
 x\t last, we have the works of Geoffrey Chaucer 
 restored to their original purity by the praise- 
 worthy diligence of Skeats, Furnival, Child and 
 Bradshaw. At last, we are to add to the golden 
 treasury of our literature genuine editions of 
 Shakspeare, in which the growth of his genius 
 and his art will be traced by the graceful scholar- 
 ship and penetrating insight of Ingleby, Tenny- 
 son, Spedden and Simpson. Ten years have 
 accomplished what centuries failed to achieve, in 
 rescumg from strange and unpardonable indiffer- 
 ence the masterpieces of our elder literature, the 
 Sib341ine leaves of our ancient poesy. This 
 graceful marble, fit emblem of our poet, is the 
 expression — perhaps unconscious, undesigned, 
 
3o8 APPENDIX, 
 
 but none the less effective — of sympathy with 
 this grand intellectual movement of our era. I 
 hail these auspicious omens of the future of our 
 literature with gratitude and delight. But while 
 we welcome these happy indications, while we 
 rejoice in the critical expansion of our peerless 
 literature, let us not disregard tl:e solemn injunc- 
 tion conveyed by this day's proceedings. While 
 we pay the last tributes of respect to the memory 
 of him who alone was' worthy, among American 
 poets, to be ranked in that illustrious procession 
 of bards around whose names is concentrated 
 so much of the glory of the English tongue, 
 from Chaucer to Tennyson, let us cherish the ad- 
 monition to nurture and stimulate the poetry of 
 our land, until it ascend, 'wdth no middle flight,' 
 into the * brightest heaven of invention,' and the 
 regions of purest phantasy." 
 
 Professor Shepherd was frequently interrupted 
 with applause during the delivery of his eloquent 
 address. Poe's famous poem of "The Raven" 
 w^as then read by Mr. William F. Gill, w^ho was 
 made the recipient of an ovation at its close, at 
 the hands of the audience. The "Tnflammatiis," 
 
DEDICA TION OF THE MONUMENT. 309 
 
 from Rossini's " Stabat Mater," by Miss Ella 
 Gordon and the Philharmonic Society, followed. 
 John H. B. Latrobe, Esq., then gave his inter- 
 esting personal reminiscences of Poe,* which 
 were received with peculiar acceptance. 
 
 REMARKS OF MR. NEILSON POE. 
 
 After Mr. Latrobe had concluded his remarks, 
 Mr. Neilson Poe, Sr., a cousin of the poet, was 
 introduced by Prof. EUiott. 
 
 Mr. Poe, upon being introduced, said the rela- 
 tives of the late poet would indeed be w^anting 
 in sensibility, as well as gratitude, if they let 
 this occasion pass without some acknowledgment 
 of their special obligation to those who have 
 reared the memorial soon to be unveiled over 
 the grave of their kinsman. It is impossible that 
 they can be indifferent to the increasing fame of 
 one whose ancestry is common to themselves, 
 and who share his blood. They cannot but look 
 with gratification at the fact that the imputations 
 on the personal character of Poe, which envy 
 
 * Given in connection with the account of the Baltimore 
 prizes in our memoir. 
 
3IO 
 
 APPENDIX, 
 
 has invented and malice magnified, can now, 
 under a closer investigation and an impartial 
 criticism, be judged with charity and justice. 
 Personal animosity may have created slanders 
 which a kindlier spirit is now rejecting, and the 
 good and noble traits of character of the dead, 
 are being recognized by an impartial public. 
 
 AT THE GRAVE. 
 
 Those present then repaired to Westminster 
 Churchyard, where all that is mortal of Poe 
 reposes. The remains have been removed from 
 their first resting-place, in an obscure corner of 
 the lot, to the corner of Fayette and Greene 
 streets, where the monument now covering the 
 grave can be seen from Fayette street. 
 
 While the Philharmonic Society rendered the 
 following dirge, written for the occasion by Mrs. 
 Eleanor Fullerton, of Baltimore, known in the 
 literary world under the pseudonym of "Violet 
 Fuller," the Committee on the Memorial, and 
 others, gathered around the monument. 
 
 Softlj sleep, softlj sleep, 
 Sleep in thj lowly bed, 
 
DEDICA TION OF THE MONUMENT. 3 1 1 
 
 Sleep, sleep in slumbers deep. 
 Waked not bj carthlj tread. 
 Over thy grave let the wild winds moan. 
 Under this fair memorial stone, 
 Poet, thou slumberest well; 
 All thy sorrows o'er, sleep for evermore, sleep I 
 
 Peace and rest, peace and rest, 
 
 O wearj soul, be thine; 
 Rest, rest, in earth's cool breast. 
 
 Sheltered from storm and shine. 
 Darkness no more obscures thy way, 
 Out of the night, eternal day 
 Beams forth with power divine. 
 All thy sorrows o'er, sleep for evermore, sleep ! 
 
 The dirge is an adaptation of Tennyson's 
 *' Sweet and Low," by Mrs. Fullerton. Prof. 
 Elliott and Miss Rice removed the muslin in 
 which the memorial was veiled while the dirge 
 was being sung, and the memorial was then, for 
 the first time, presented to the gaze of the public. 
 The monument was crowned with a wreath com- 
 posed of ivy, and another of lilies and evergreens. 
 After the dirge, Mr. WilHam F. Gill, of Boston, 
 recited Poe's poem, "Annabel Lee," and Mrs. 
 Dillehunt, a former school teacher, selections 
 from "The Bells." This concluded the exer- 
 
312 
 
 APPENDIX, 
 
 cises, and the throng which had collected in the 
 graveyard came forward to view the monument. 
 During the exercises a large throng was gath- 
 ered in the vicinity of Fayette and Greene streets, 
 unable to gain admission to the female high 
 school or the churchyard. 
 
 THE MONUMENT. 
 
 The monument is of the pedestal form, and is 
 eight feet high ; the surbase is of Woodstock 
 granite, and six feet square, the balance being 
 of Italian marble. The pedestal has an Attic 
 base, three feet ten inches square ; the die block 
 is a cube three feet square and three feet two 
 inches high, relieved on each face by a square- 
 projecting and polished plane, the upper angles 
 of which are broken and filled with a carved 
 rosette. On the front panel is the bas-relief bust 
 of the poet, modelled by Frederick Volck from 
 a photograph in possession of Mr. Neilson Poe. 
 The other panel contains an inscription of the 
 dates of the birth and death of Poe. The die 
 block is surmounted by a bold and graceful 
 frieze and cornice four feet square, broken on 
 each face, in the centre, by a segment of a cir- 
 
THE MONUMENT ERECTED IN MEMORY OF POE AT BALTIMORE. 
 November 17th, 18T5, 
 
DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 
 
 313 
 
 cle. The frieze is ornamented at the angles by 
 richly carved acanthus leaves, and in the centre 
 by a lyre crowned with laurel. The whole is 
 capped by a blocking three feet square, cut to a 
 low pyramidal form. The monument is simple 
 and chaste, and strikes more by graceful outline, 
 than by crowding with unmeaning ornament. 
 It was designed by Geo. A. Frederick, architect, 
 and built by Col. Hugh Sisson. 
 
 A TRIBUTE FROM THE STAGE. 
 
 A pleasing feature of the ceremonies was the 
 placing upon the monument of a large wreath of 
 flowers, made up principally of camelias, lilies 
 and tea roses. Together with this, was depos- 
 ited a floral tribute in the shape of a raven, made 
 from black immortelles. The large petals of 
 the lilies suggested the "bells" immortalized by 
 Poe's genius, the significance of the other em- 
 blems being obvious. These were tributes from 
 the company at Ford's Grand Opera House, 
 Mrs. Germon being mainly instrumental in get- 
 ting them up. Poe's mother had been an actress 
 at HoUiday-Street Theatre, w^hich fact had been 
 preserved in the traditions of the stage, and had 
 something to do with inspiring this tribute. 
 
314 APPENDIX. 
 
 MEMORIAL SUGGESTIONS. 
 
 The inscriptions upon the monument have yet 
 (1875) to be determined upon. Various sugges- 
 tions have been received, among them that from 
 the poet Longfellow, read as a portion of the ex- 
 ercises. Oliver Wendell Holmes has suggested 
 the following, taken from Poe's verses, " To one 
 in Paradise : " 
 
 "Ah, dream too bright to last — 
 Ah, starrj hope that didst arise 
 But to be overcast." 
 
 James Russell Lowell, in a letter to Miss Rice, 
 has recommended that some passage from Poe's 
 works be selected, in allusion to the self-caused 
 wretchedness of his life, and suggests the stanza 
 of " The Raven" beginning, " An unhappy mas- 
 ter," &c., to the end of the verse. Together 
 with this, he recommends a selection expressing 
 the peculiar musical quality of Poe's genius, and 
 suggests a verse of the " Haunted Palace," be- 
 ginning, "And all with pearl and ruby glowing." 
 
 In response to a letter of inquiry, the venerable 
 poet Bryant furnishes the following as a suitable 
 inscription : — 
 
DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT, 315 
 
 TO 
 
 Edgar Allan Poe 
 
 Author of the Raven 
 
 And other poems, 
 
 And of various works of fiction, 
 
 Distinguished alike 
 
 For originality in the conception, 
 
 Skill in word painting, 
 
 And power over the mind of the reader, 
 
 The Public School Teachers 
 
 Of Baltimore, 
 
 Admirers of his genius. 
 
 Have erected this monument. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 }'7 
 
NOTES. 
 
 NOTE a. (Page 15.) 
 
 Dr. R. Shelton Mackenzie, of Philadelphia, whose knowl- 
 edge of Irish poetry is not equalled by any other litterateur 
 in America, has, since the publication of the first edition of 
 this volume, showed me a collection of Irish poetry, in which 
 the ballad of " Banna's Banks " is ascribed to the Right Hon- 
 orable George Ogle, of Bellune. Mr. Ogle was born in 1739, 
 and died in 1814. He represented Ireland in the Parliament 
 of that country, and voted against the Union in 1800. He 
 was educated, literally, on the banks of Banna, a beautiful 
 stream in Wexford county which he represented in Parlia- 
 ment. The "Molly Asthore " of the song was Miss Mary 
 Moore, whom he afterwards married. 
 
 NOTE b. (Page 20.) 
 
 It was previous to the burning of the Richmond theatre 
 that Mr. and Mrs. Poe were taken ill. At this time they 
 were in great poverty. Mr. Allan and Mr. Mackenzie, both 
 wealthy and benevolent Scotch gentlemen, having been in- 
 formed that the Poes were in great distress, sought them out 
 to afford them telief. They were found in wretched lodgings, 
 lying upon a siraw bed, and very sick, Mr. Poe with con- 
 sumption, and his wife with pneumonia. There was no food 
 in the house. They had no money or fuel, and their clothes 
 had been pawned or sold. 
 
 Two little children were with the parents, in the care of an 
 old Welsh woman, who had come over from England with 
 Mrs. Poe, and who was understood to be her mother. The 
 children were half clad, half starved, and very much ema- 
 ciated. The youngest was in a stupor, caused by feeding on 
 bread steeped in gin. The old woman acknowledged that she 
 
320 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 
 
 was in the habit of so feeding them, *' to keep them quiet and 
 make them strong." 
 
 Mr. Mackenzie, shocked at this spectacle, took the children 
 to his own house, where thej were tenderly cared for. A 
 few days wrought a great change in their appearance, and the 
 beauty and intelligence of little Edgar became a subject of 
 universal comment. William Henry, the elder brother, had 
 already been sent to his grandfather in Baltimore. 
 
 It was while Edgar was at Mr. Mackenzie's, that Mr. Allan 
 became so attracted by him as to offer to adopt him, and 
 make him his heir. 
 
 NOTE c. (Page 29.) 
 
 Poe, in his description of the school-house at Stoke-New- 
 ington, as in most of his pictures from life, drew upon his 
 imagination somewhat. 
 
 The actual house was identified a few years ago by the late 
 Mr. John Camden Hotten, the London publisher. By a for- 
 tunate circumstance, Mr. Hotten stumbled upon an abstract 
 of the leases granted by the Lord of the Manor, sixty years 
 since, and amongst the entries was found the following : 
 
 Yearly rent. 
 The Rev. John Bransby, of the school in Church street, and 
 
 ground in Edwards lane, 21 years lease, with 10 additional, 
 
 expires March, 1837 £sS-°o 
 
 The actual house is a roomy old structure, of Queen Anne's 
 time, and remains internally in very nearly the same state as 
 when Poe went to school there. It is a school at present, under 
 the care of a Mr. Dod, and although the thirteen acres of play- 
 ground, which existed in Poe's time, have long since been 
 parcelled out to other tenements, or have been built upon, we 
 were fortunate in being able to secure a good sketch of the 
 house, together with a drawing, made whilst Poe was at the 
 school, of the ancient manor gateway, formerly a conspicu- 
 ous object in the ground. 
 
 The portrait of Poe's schoolmaster is interesting, when 
 taken in connection with the poet's graphic description of the 
 venerable clergyman in " William Wilson." 
 
NOTES. 321 
 
 NOTE d. (Page 56.) 
 
 Griswold, about whose private character there is but one 
 opinion, among those who knew him best, judged the poet 
 according to his (Griswold's) standard of morality. Mr. 
 George R. Graham describes him as sensual and licentious; 
 Mr. Charles H. Brainard, of Boston, states that he was a 
 hard drinker and a falsifier, who was often detected in ques- 
 tionable practices. 
 
 NOTE e. (Page 91.) 
 
 Mr. Longfellow has very generously said of Poe, in a letter 
 to the editor of " The Literary Messenger" : " The harshness 
 of his criticism I have always attributed to the irritation of a 
 sensitive nature chafed by some indefinite sense of wrong." 
 (" Edgar Poe and his Critics," page 25.) 
 
 NOTE f. (Page no.) 
 
 A distinguished man of letters, a contemporary of Gris- 
 wold, now living in New York, speaks of him as one of those 
 characters in whom the habit of lying had come to be in such 
 a degree a second nature, as to be excusable on the ground of 
 the falsifier's personal irresponsibility for what was not al- 
 ways a conseious act. 
 
 NOTE g. (Page 179.) 
 
 Dr. Griswold, in fastening this charge upon Poe, speaks of 
 the lady referred to as "a distinguished literary lady of South 
 Carolina, from whom Poe borrowed fifty dollars, promising 
 to return it in a few days, and when, failing to do so, he was 
 asked for a written acknowledgment of the debt, that might 
 be exhibited to the husband of the friend who thus had served 
 him, he denied all knowledge of it, and threatened to exhibit a 
 21 
 
322 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 correspondence that would make her infamous if she said 
 more on the subject." 
 
 The recent death of this ladj, the late Mrs. F. E. Ellet, has 
 left a fair field for the revival of this scandal, never openly 
 associated with her while living. Madame Vincenzo Botta 
 (Miss Anna C. Ljnch) , who knew Poe, certainly as intimately 
 as any one in New York, writes me that she never heard a 
 word of the scandal during the poet's life; and INIrs. Sarah 
 Helen Whitman states, that the only foundation for the story 
 was in the fact, that there was a quarrel between the poet and 
 Mrs. Ellet, owing to an incautious remark which he made 
 when goaded by Mrs. Ellet's interference between him and 
 Mrs. Osgood. Mrs. Whitman states the matter in the follow- 
 ing words : 
 
 "Mrs. Ellet having chanced to see, or to have been shown, 
 at the home of the poet during his absence, a note addressed 
 to him by Mrs. Osgood (who made no secret of her corre- 
 spondence with him), took that ladj' to task for her indiscre- 
 tion, and prevailed upon her to consent that a demand should 
 be made for the return of her letters. Margaret Fuller was 
 one of the two ladies to whom this embassy was intrusted; 
 from the ot/ier I received this account, which she would, 
 I doubt not, confirm to the letter were I at liberty to use 
 her name. Irritated by what he regarded as an unwar- 
 rantable interference on the part of Mi-s. Ellet, Poe indig- 
 nantly replied to the demand by saying, that ' Mrs. Ellet had 
 better look to her oxv7t letters,' — only this, and nothing more. 
 In the autumn of 1848, I received from Mr. Poe a letter in 
 confirmation of the facts I have stated. Great scandals and 
 bitter feuds had arisen in consequence of them. 
 
 "Injustice to the poet, who has suffered so much from 
 jealous friends and relentless enemies, I quote a few of the 
 burning words wrung from him by a sense of intolerable 
 wrong : 
 
 " ' When in the heat of passion, stung to madness by a 
 sense of the injury inflicted upon all of us — upon both fami- 
 
NOTES. 023 
 
 lies — I permitted myself to say what I should not have said, 
 I had no sooner uttered the words than I felt their dishonor. 
 Terrified lest I should again, in a moment of madness, be 
 similarly tempted, I immediately, when those ladies were 
 gone, made a package of the letters, addressed them t« Mrs. 
 Ellet, and with my own hands left them at her door.' " 
 
 Mrs. Whitman closes, by distinctly stating that " the 
 charge of financial indebtedness was not included in the 
 original story." 
 
 NOTE \ (Page 131.) 
 
 "The Raven," like others of Poe's poems, was subjected 
 to some revisions after its original issue. It was finally 
 revised and published in its present form by the poet, in 
 Richmond, only a few days before his death. As originally 
 issued, in "The American Review," it was prefaced by the 
 following curious note, evidently not penned by its author. 
 
 THE RAVEN. 
 
 J3Y QUARLES. 
 
 [The following lines from a correspondent — besides the 
 deep, quaint strain of the sentiment, and the curious intro- 
 duction of some ludicrous touches amidst the serious and im- 
 pressive, as was doubtless intended by the author — appears 
 to us one of the most felicitous specimens of unique rhyming 
 which has for some time met our eye. The resources of 
 English rhythm for varieties of melody, measure, and sound, 
 producing corresponding diversities of effect, have been 
 thoroughly studied, much more perceived, by very few poets 
 in the language. While the classic tongues, especially the 
 Greek, possess, by power of accent, several advantages for 
 versification over our own, chiefly through greater abun- 
 dance of spondaic feet, we have other and very great advan- 
 tages of sound by the modern usage of rhyme. Alliteration 
 
324 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 is nearly the only effect of that kind which the ancients had 
 in common with us. It will be seen that much of the melody 
 of "The Raven" arises from alliteration, and the studious 
 use of similar sounds in unusual places. In regard to its 
 measure, it may be noted that if all the verses were like the 
 second, they might properly be placed merely in short lines, 
 producing a not uncommon form ; but the presence in all the 
 others of one line — mostly the second in the verse — which 
 flows continuously, with only an aspirate pause in the mid- 
 dle, like that before the short line in the Sapphic Adonic, 
 while the fifth has at the middle pause no similarity of sound 
 with any part beside, gives the versification an entirely dif- 
 ferent effect. We could wish the capacities of our noble lan- 
 guage, in prosody, were better understood. — Ed. Am. Rev.] 
 
 The only important alterations made were of the italicized 
 words in the ninth, eleventh, and fourteenth stanzas, which 
 we quote here. 
 
 That Poe could have written such a line as " Stern Despair 
 returned, ifistead of the sweet hope he dared adjure" after 
 having had the poem by him two years, as has been stated, is 
 simply preposterous. He undoubtedly burned to see his 
 inspiration in print, and knowing the blemishes in the verse, 
 but not willing to take time to correct them, he shielded 
 himself under a nom de plume, thus protecting his secret, and 
 avoiding delay and personal criticism. The stanzas altered, 
 originally stood as follows : 
 
 Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, 
 Though its answer little meaning — little relevancy bore ; 
 For we cannot help agreeing that no sublunary being 
 Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door — 
 Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door : 
 
 With such name as "Nevermore." 
 
 Wottdering at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, 
 "Doubtless," said I, " what it utters is its only stock and storey 
 
NOTES. 
 
 325 
 
 Caught from some unhappj' master whom unmerciful disaster 
 Followed fast and followed fiister — so, ivhen Hope he would adjure. 
 Stern Despair retur7ted, instead of the sweet hope he dared adjure — 
 
 That sad answer, " Nevermore." 
 
 Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer 
 Swung by attgels whose faint footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor. 
 "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee — by these angels he hath 
 
 sent thee 
 Respite — respite and Nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore I 
 Let me qimff'Ccix^ kind Nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore ! 
 
 Quoth the raven, " Nevermore I " 
 
 NOTE i. (Page 231.) 
 
 The statement repeatedly published, that Poe sold the poem 
 of " Annabel Lee " to three different publishers, is untrue. 
 
 It was the poet's custom to make copies of his verses and 
 present them to his friends. The copy of " The Bells," from 
 which the " fac-simile given in this volume is taken, is from 
 a copy presented by the poet to a near friend. Of "Annabel 
 Lee " he made three copies. One of these he sold to Sartain's 
 Magazine ; the others were. given, one to a friend on the New 
 York Tribune, and the other to Mr. J. R. Thompson of "The 
 Messenger." 
 
 As is well known, Poe died two days after giving Mr. 
 Thompson his copy, in Richmond. 
 
 The accident of his untimely death gave the gentlemen 
 holding MS. copies of his " last" poem an opportunity, which 
 their enterprise could not resist, and they rushed these private 
 copies into print, to the indignation of Mr. Sartain, who was 
 thus forestalled. 
 
 Neither of these two journalists, however, ever had the 
 meanness to allege that they had purchased the poem for 
 publication. 
 
326 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 NOTE i. (Page 237.) 
 
 For some time after coming to Richmond, Poe was a con- 
 stant visitor at Mrs. Shelton's. He soon became definitely 
 engaged to her. The date of their marriage had been fixed, 
 ■when a rupture occurred in consequence of the ladj announ- 
 cing her intention of having her ample fortune secured to 
 herself. Mrs. Shelton was naturally of a jealous disposition, 
 and had been piqued by Poe's correspondence with a lady at 
 the North. The poet, indignant at this alleged cause of Mrs. 
 Shelton's summary announcement, accused her of want of 
 faith in him, and immediately broke oif the match. 
 
 Bitter mutual recriminations followed. Poe, refusing to 
 return Mrs. Shelton's letters, except in return for his own, 
 she wrote to him, thi-eatening to send a friend to inflict upon 
 bim personal chastisement. He received this note while 
 in the office of a friend, read it aloud in presence of the 
 messenger, and returned a verbal reply, declining to give up 
 the letters. This was the end of the affair, and henceforth 
 the feeling between them was one of extreme bitterness. 
 
 Dr. Griswold, who was, we are assured, informed of the 
 affair by Mrs. Shelton, says nothing of the breaking of the 
 engagement by Poe, but makes use of the story of the threat- 
 ened punishment to garnish his misrepresentation of the 
 quarrel between the poet and Mrs. Ellet, in his falsehood re- 
 lating to the alleged borrowing of fifty dollars of that lady by 
 the poet, and his threat of exposure of her letters when asked 
 to acknowledge the loan. 
 
 Poe's prospects at the time this engagement was broken, 
 were, according to Mrs. Weiss, extremely flattering, quite 
 aside from the match with Mrs. Shelton. He had made many 
 friends in Richmond, and had obtained promises of all the 
 support necessary to insui-e the starting of " The Stylus," 
 the cherished ambition of his life. 
 
 Had he been less independent, his necessities might have 
 made him more forbearing; but he was, for the first time in 
 his literary career, assured of material success, and his un- 
 wonted elation made him correspondingly reckless. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 NOTE k. (Page 239.) 
 
 327 
 
 Dr. Moran's account of the last moments of the poet is to 
 be taken cum grano salt's. As originally published in the 
 New York Herald, November, 1875, it occupied over a column 
 of that journal, in fine type. The evidence, pro and con, as 
 to its reliability, is extremely contradictory, and we have re- 
 frained from quoting such portions of the account as seemed 
 to seriously conflict with more reliable testimony. 
 
 In several particulars, Dr. Moran's account is known to be 
 quite incorrect; as, for instance, his statement that the poet 
 directed that a letter be sent to Mrs. Shelton, at Norfolk, 
 Virginia. Mrs. Shelton resided in Richmond; and as her 
 intimacy with Poe had terminated before he left Richmond 
 for the last time, he could not have been informed had she 
 changed her address, which, in fact, she had not done. 
 
 Mr. Neilson Poe is confident that the poet did not speak at 
 all after being carried to the hospital. 
 
 NOTE I (Page 247.) 
 
 "The Poets and Poetry of America. With an Historical 
 
 Introduction. By Rufus W. Griswold. 
 
 Here the free spirit of mankind at length 
 Throws its last fetters off; and who shall place 
 A limit to the giant's uncliained strength, 
 Or curb his swiftness in the forward race ? 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 Ere long thine every stream shall find a tongue. 
 Land of the many waters. —Hoffman. 
 
 Third Edition. Revised, with Illustrations. Philadelphia: 
 
 Carey & Hart, Chestnut Street." 
 
 Perhaps no work ever appeared whose announcement 
 created a greater sensation among the poetasters of the land, 
 
328 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 
 
 whose editor was so puffed, praised, and glorified in advance, 
 and which was so universally assailed on its advent, as " The 
 Poets and Poetry of America." Is Mr. — we ask his pardon, 
 — the Reverend Mr. Griswold, the man of varied talents, of 
 genius, of known skill, of overweening intellect, he was 
 somewhile pictured, or is he the arrant literary quack he is 
 now entitled by the American press? If he is a man of 
 genius, or even great talents, signal injustice has been done 
 him; and if not, his assumption of such a character cannot 
 be too sufficiently leprobated. Genius we defined in a former 
 review. The best means to establish a man's right to the 
 title, is to examine his past course and his present position. 
 
 The first knowledge we had of Mr. Griswold was his occu- 
 pancy of the position of assistant, or junior editor, some 
 years since, to a minor sheet entitled " The New Yorker," 
 then of the New York " Brother Jonathan," then in the same 
 capacity to the " Daily Standard," (a political sheet published 
 in Philadelphia during the Harrison campaign.) under that 
 Atlas of intellect, Francis L. Grund, and finallj-, on Mr. 
 Grund's withdrawal from the connection, sole editor. The 
 paper (a notorious fact !) immediately fell off in circulation, 
 and died in less than three weeks after his assuming the edi- 
 torship. We next find him in his former subordinate capa- 
 city to the '■'■ Boston Notion," and finally as editor to the 
 "Post," and "Graham's Magazine," or, as it is entitled by 
 that chaste and exquisite sheet, the New York Herald, " The 
 American Blackwood." 
 
 After the death of the "Standard," Carey & Hart an- 
 nounced the present work, and our author arose from com- 
 parative insignificance to be the idol of all the poetical 
 editors and would-be great men in America. The book 
 appeared, and " lajleurd'tiue keure'" faded into nothingness. 
 
 " Up like a rocket, and doA\Ti like its stick," 
 
 is a terse epitaph on his career. 
 
 One question now remains to be answered: Did the "Jon- 
 athan" or the "Notion" attain any higher position than 
 
NOTES. 
 
 329 
 
 before, during Mr. G.'s connection with them; or have the 
 "Post" and '' Graham's Magazine " improved under his su- 
 pervision ? The " Standard " we leave out of the question, as 
 it expired under his management. Certainly not as to the 
 former; and the brilliant career of Graham's Magazine under 
 Mr. Poe's care, and its subsequent trashy literary character 
 «;ince his retirement, is a sufficient response. Mr. Griswold's 
 ge7iiiis, at least, has not benefited his employers. But that 
 he lias no claim to that character is evident, and we do not 
 believe his warmest admirer (if he has one.'*) will insist on his 
 right to bear the title. That he has 5ci;«e talents we allow, 
 but they are only those of a mediocre character; indeed, 
 every third man one might meet in a day's walk is his equal, 
 if not his superior. As a critic, his judgment is worthless, 
 for a critic should possess sufficient independence and honesty 
 to mete out justice to all men, without fear, favor, or par- 
 tiality, as well as be a man of various acquirements, or at 
 least a linguist and classical scholar. Is Mr. Griswold one 
 of these? No! The review department of Gi^aham's Maga- 
 zine, and its original literary contents, monthly, exhibit am- 
 ple evidence of his want of taste and inabilitj' if not of criti- 
 cal honesty; while its very cover displays his want of judg- 
 ment in common-sense business matters, and his egotism and 
 petty envy and dislikes of men he dares not openly assail* 
 As an instance, we have the " Principal Contributors," W. C. 
 Bryant, J. F. Cooper, R. H. Dana, H. W. Longfellow, C. F. 
 Hoffman (Jiorresco referejis !), T. C Grattan, N. P. Willis, 
 and II. W. Herbert, arranged in proper order. We ask, is 
 this in accordance with the age, established reputation, or 
 merits of the several authors.? 
 
 Are Dana and Hoffman the superiors of N. P. Willis, who 
 has written more beautiful and true poetry than either of 
 them.? Is Bryant a better poet than Longfellow.? Certainly 
 not, for in Longfellow's pages the spirit of poetry — 
 ideality — walks abroad, while Bryant's sole merit is tolera- 
 ble versification and fine marches of description. Longfellow 
 is unquestionably the best poet in America. These gentle- 
 men would be better placed in alphabetical order, or at least 
 
330 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 in accordance with their actual merits. In the latter view 
 they might be ranked thus : H. W. Longfellow, W. C. Bry- 
 ant, N. P. Willis, and R. II. Dana, as poets, and J. F. Cooper 
 and T. C. Grattan, as pi'ose writers ; while such names as 
 C. F. Hoffman, whose only merit is his wealth, and H. W. 
 Herbert, who has written more trash than any man living 
 with the exception of Fay, should be excluded to make room 
 for those of men of more substantial character as writers. 
 
 In the " Prospectus," Mr. Griswold's self-esteem is strangeh' 
 developed. Here we have him in his capacity of " fl/^//^c»A' " 
 of the " Poets and Poetry of America," as thirteenth in the 
 list, and of course superior in rank to Sargent, Benjamin, 
 Simms, Lowell, Thomas, Poe, Hill, our own Conrad (one of 
 the sweetest poets of the time), Greeley, &c., &c., who follow 
 him. Unexampled modesty! In the same list we find C. J. 
 Peterson ranked as the superior of Greeley, Ingraham, Col- 
 ton, Robert Morris, Reynell Coates, Field, &c. 
 
 Again, how modestly our critic puffs himself in his remarks 
 on the " Editorial Department " : — '■'■The criticisms of Gra- 
 ham" s Magazifie are ackjio-joledged i7i all parts of this coujitry 
 to be superior in acumen, ho7iesty, and independence to those 
 of a?iy contemporary. Indeed, xuhile a majority of the juonth- 
 ly and quarterly journals have become mere advertising medi- 
 mns for the booksellers, in which everything ' ifi pri?it'' is 
 ifidiscrimi?iately praised, this periodical is looked upo?i as a 
 just and discriminating arbiter bet'cvee7i authors and readers, 
 in ivhich both can have implicit confidence" Pretty well that, 
 for a modest man, Mr. G., particularly in the assumption 
 of praise given to the former editor, to whose criticisms it 
 was awarded, and who, it is well known, made the magazine. 
 Is this, or is this not, sailing under false colors.? However, 
 our compiler is right. Any flag is better than his own. And 
 in literature, as in piracy, the free-trader always "runs up" 
 the best at his fore; but had we done this, we should blush 
 at our own impudence in knowing that we had been guilty 
 of one of the most barefaced pieces of literary swindlmg of 
 modern days. 
 
 Mais, revenojis a jiosmoutons, and a very muttonish produc- 
 
NOTES. 
 
 331 
 
 tj.on it is — "The Poets and Poetry of America." Is it fair to 
 condemn Mr. Griswold's ability to act as a judge and critic 
 of our poets witliout examining into his poetical an-d critical 
 competency.'' Certainly not; and in the premises we shall 
 act justly, generously, and impartially. "Just! "we think 
 we hear our ;poet exclaim, like the man arraigned for horse- 
 stealing, when told by his judge he should have Justice done 
 him. "Justice! plase 3^our Honor's glory — that's the very 
 thing I don't want." Mr. G., however, claims to be a poet, 
 and deduces from that position his competency to judge of 
 the poetry of others. Let us apply the touchstone to his 
 latest acknowledged article, " The Sunset Storm," published 
 in his (Graham's) Magazine, September, 1843; and if that 
 does not prove him to possess as little of the divine afflatuSy 
 artistical skill, and knowledge of plain English construc- 
 tion, as a Desert-of-Sahara Arab, let our criticism go for 
 naught. 
 
 We shall premise with a short notice of the art of versifica- 
 tion ; an art which our best poets are ignorant of, or wilfully 
 misunderstand, and which our first writers on Prosody have 
 entnely misrepresented. Cooper, whose grammar is exten- 
 sively used, defines it to be " the arrangement of a certain 
 number of syllables according to certain laws," yet lays down 
 no laws for its government, but drops the subject, fearful of 
 burning his fingers. Indeed, all the writers on Prosody, from 
 Brown to Murray, have almost entirely waived the subject, 
 while the little they have said is founded on, and conse- 
 quently, a mass of — error. 
 
 Versification is the art by which various feet of equal 
 quantity, though difl:ering in the number of syllables, are 
 arranged in harmonious order, and made to form verse. 
 Poetry, in its most confined sense, is the result of versifica- 
 tion^ but may be more properly defined as the rhythmical fer- 
 sonificatioji of existing or ideal beauty. One defines it as the 
 "rhythmical creation of beauty;" but though it certainly 
 is a "creation of beauty" in itself, it is more properly a 
 personification, for the poet only personifies the images pre- 
 viously created by his mind. Feet are the parts of 
 
332 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 verse bj which, -when harmoniouslj associated, the reader 
 steps along, as it were, in a measured manner, through the 
 whole. Thej are composed of one, two, or three vai-iouslj 
 accented and unaccented syllables. The only feet admitted 
 bj our language are the Iambus, Trochee, Dactyl, Anapest, 
 and Ccesura. The Tribrach, Amphibrach, and Pyrrhic, 
 though adopted in English Prosody by very erudite writers, 
 never did and never can exist in its poetry. Of these here- 
 after. We shall use the old marks, a [ — ], to mark the ac- 
 cented, or long, and the [^, to mark the unaccented, or 
 short syllables, in our notice of their various kinds. 
 
 The Iambus is composed of two syllables, one short and 
 one long; as. 
 
 " I stand I beneath | the mys | tic moon." 
 
 The Trochee, of the same number, but exactly the reverse 
 of the former; as, 
 
 " In the 1 greenest | of our | valleys." 
 Here "of" is made long by emphasis. 
 
 " In a I sunny, | smiling ] valley," 
 is a better exemplification of the Trochee. 
 The Spondee is composed of two long syllables ; as, 
 
 "wild wood," "pale moon," " wind sown," and is only 
 used to prevent monotony, or to produce some striking effect 
 in versification. In the commencement of verse the Trochee 
 is preferable. It is likewise the only foot, with the exception 
 of the Caesura, which cannot be used to form continuous 
 verse. Longfellow thought it might, and murdered harmony 
 most horribly in attempting English Hexameter, a species of 
 verse which, though beautiful in the Latin, can never be intro- 
 duced in our language, owing to its wanting a sufficient num- 
 ber of Spondees. A language correctly described by Holmes 
 as — 
 
 " Our grating English, whose Teutonic jar 
 Shakes the rack'd axle of Art's rattling car." 
 
NOTES. 
 
 333 
 
 The Dactyl is a foot composed of three syllables, two 
 short, preceded by one long; as, 
 
 ''Ragged and | weary one, | where art thou | travelling?" 
 The Anapest is the converse of the Dactyl ; as, 
 
 " On a rock | by the O | cean, all lone | ly and sad." 
 The C^suRA — the word is from the Greek, and signifies 
 "a pause" — is a foot composed of one long syllable, equal 
 in quantity to, that is, occupying the same time in pronun- 
 ciation as, the Dactyl, Anapest, Iambus, or Trochee. It is 
 properly used in English poetry to give a sonorous close 
 to, or to produce a striking and forcible commencement in 
 verse. We shall give an example from Longfellow, who 
 uses it in the latter case, without knowing of its existence, as 
 a distinct fact. 
 
 " In the I market | place of | Bruges | stands the ] belfry, | 
 
 old and | brown." 
 
 Here, by reading the verse, the ear will observe that 
 " brown," M'hich is the Ccesura, consumes the same tmie as 
 any of the Trochees of which the line is composed. 
 
 All our Prosodists define the Caesura (and we give the defi- 
 nition in our own words, as it is impossible to form an idea 
 of its use from theirs) as a pause introduced for the purpose 
 of producing harmony, in a single verse or couplet, between 
 " two members of the same verse," by which the one is placed 
 in direct comparison with the other; as, 
 
 " See the bold youth" strain up the threat'ning steep, 
 Rush through the thickets", down the valleys sweep." 
 
 (") Being the marks by which they designate the Caesura, 
 which they use, as will be readily perceived, only in an elo- 
 cutionary sense. 
 
 We too use the Caesura as a pause — a pause compelled by 
 the position of, and upon the foot — of the voice, which ren- 
 ders it equal in quantity to any of the larger feet, and at the 
 same time gives to the close of the verse, where it is most 
 
334 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 
 
 trequentlj found, a singular richness, as well as sonorous 
 fulness and force. When the Ca^sui-a terminates a verse, the 
 poet can immediately step in the next into another species of 
 foot without producing the slightest discord. The following 
 is an example of its commencing and concluding a stanzas. 
 
 March ! \ March ! \ March ! 
 
 From the | yawning | grave they | come; 
 And I thousands | rise, with | lidless | eyes, 
 
 As I taps the | fun'ral | drum. 
 Ileavi I ly their | white arms | swinging, | 
 
 Clatter, | clatter | on they ] go ; 
 Up in I curling | eddies | flinging | 
 
 High the | fleecy | snotv. 
 
 It will be seen that this stanza is scanned precisely as if it 
 were written in one continuous verse, which is the proper 
 mode in, and peculiar to our language; as, 
 
 March ! \ March ! \ March ! \ From the ] yawning | grave 
 they I come, and | thousands | rise with | lidless | eyes as | 
 taps the I funeral | drum. 
 
 The arrangement of the same depending entirely upon the 
 will of the poet. 
 
 The Caesura has been used, '* time out of mind, "by all our 
 poets, but with a perfect ignorance of its present character. 
 This discovery, as well as that of the above mode of scansion, 
 was left to Edgar A. Poe, who has spent more time in ana- 
 lyzing the construction of our language than any living 
 grammarian, critic, or essayist. The following is an exam- 
 ple of his use of this foot in the " Haunted Palace : " 
 
 " In the greenest of our valleys, 
 By good angels tenanted?, 
 Once a fair and stately palace 
 
 (Snow-white palace) reared its head. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 335 
 
 In the monarch Thought's dominion, 
 
 It stood there ! 
 Never seraph spread a pinion 
 
 Over fabric half so fair.'''' 
 
 With this brief analysis, sufficient to explain the subject, 
 we return to the examination of the " Sunset Storm." 
 
 The sum [ mer sun | has sunk | to rest 
 Very fair, Mr. G. 
 
 Below I the green ] clad hills. | 
 
 This is Iambic, the simplest of all verse; yet in the second 
 verse, or as Mr. G. would call it, the second " line" we have 
 
 a positive error. " Green clad hills " are three consecutive 
 
 long syllables, and "clad hills" being a Spondee, has no 
 business in that position in the verse. Mr. Griswold com- 
 mences with a quiet picture of the sun sinking to rest, which 
 the sun always does quietly, as he ought; and the second 
 should, consequentl}', harmonize with the precedmg verse, 
 
 to carry out the idea. " Green clad hills " is as harsh as the 
 grating of a coffee-mill. 
 
 " The summer sun has sunk to rest 
 Below the " lofty " hills," 
 
 or any other sort of " hills," where the adjective is an Iam- 
 bus, would make it melody. Let us proceed : 
 
 "And through | the skies | career ] ing fast. 
 The storm | cloud rides | upon | the blast, 
 And now | the rain | distil/s." 
 
 Here the same error is again repeated, "storm-cloud" 
 being, like "green-clad," a compound word, and distil is 
 spelt with two " U's." 
 
33^ 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A, POE. 
 
 *' The flash | we see, | the peal | we hear, | 
 With winds | blent in \ their wild | career." 
 
 "Blent in" is the most horrible massacre of harmony we 
 ever encountered. It is neither fish, flesh, nor fowl ; neither 
 a Spondee, Trochee, or an Iambus ; and, deuce take us I if 
 we know ivhat to make of it. In Christian charity, Mr. G., 
 enlighten us ! 
 
 " Till pains | the ear." 
 A most appropriate verse. It certainly pains our ear to pro- 
 ceed with the next. 
 
 " It is I the voice ] of the | Storm-King." 
 Did any one ever read such delectable doggerel .!* Did any 
 one ever see such a number of short syllables collected in one 
 *' line," or see such a line published, with a grave face, as po- 
 etry. We defy even Mrs. Wood to si7ig it musically. "The 
 voice " is the only legitimate Iambus in the whole li7ie. " It 
 is," we are compelled to read " It w," to make the verse read 
 musically. "Of the" is a Trochee, unless Mr. G. would 
 have us read " of ///<?, " which, from the versification precedent 
 and subsequent, we should imagine he wishes us to do. 
 " Storm-King" is another compound word, and a Spondee. 
 
 " Leading | his ban | ner'd hosts | along | the sky. 
 
 And drench ling with] his floods | the sterllle lands] and dry." 
 
 Here we have a Trochee, " leading," commencing the verse. 
 This is not objectionable, for it expresses an action — " lead- 
 ing his banner'd hosts." Its introduction frequently produces 
 a fine artistical and highly poetical effect, and the poet's as well 
 as the reader's ear is the best judge when it should be used. 
 We will give one or two examples, since we are riding our 
 favorite horse of versification. 
 
 And loud ] ly on ] the ev' | ning's breath, | 
 Rang the | shrill cry j of sud | den death ! " 
 
NOTES. 
 
 2>31 
 
 " Rang the," a Trochee, followed by the Spondee "shrill 
 crv," expresses forcibly the actual presence and force of the 
 sound on the breath, that is, over the low murmur of the 
 evening wind. Again, in Byron's " Childe Harold," 
 
 "The sky | is changed, | and such | a change! | O night! 
 And storm, | and dark | ness ! Ye | are wond | rous strong, 
 Yet love | ly in | your strength ] as is | the light | 
 Of a I dark eye | in wo | man. Far | along 
 From peak | to peak | her rat | tling crags | among | 
 
 Leaps the | live thun ] dor! Not [ from one [ lone cloud," 
 &c. 
 
 Here is the same definite expression of passion and action 
 in " of a dark eye," and " leaps the live thunder." You can 
 feel the loveliness of the eye, and hear the crash of, and see 
 the thunder leaping. How different are Mr. Griswold's and 
 Lord Byron's descriptions of a Storm ! 
 
 We copy from the same Magazine that contains the "Sun- 
 set Storm," for Mr. Griswold's especial edification, a fine 
 specimen of Iambic verse, and advise him when next he uses 
 that " foot," to take it as a model. It is from the " Haunted 
 Heart," by a Miss Mary L. I^awson, whose ear seems to be 
 nearly faultlessly correct. 
 
 "Ne'er from his heart the vision fades away; 
 
 Amid the crowd, in silence and alone. 
 The stars by night, the clear blue sky by day, 
 
 Bring to his mind the happiness that's flown ; 
 A tone of song, the warbling of the birds. 
 
 The simplest thing that memory endears. 
 Can still recall the form, the voice, the words 
 
 Of her, the best beloved of early years." 
 
 In the same poeni we find the following highly-finished 
 and descriptive lines : 
 
33S 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 
 
 " And vjatched the rippling currents as they played 
 In ebb andJlo'M upoji the banks ofjlozuers." 
 
 We stand, as it were, upon the river's bank! 
 
 We mentioned something before of the use of Spondees in 
 Latin Hexameter, and to make our position perfectly under- 
 stood, shall quote a few examples from different authors. 
 
 " In nova ] fort ani | mus mu ] tatas | dicere | formas | 
 
 Corpora | Di coep | tis nam | vos mu | tastis et | illas." 
 
 Ovid. 
 
 "Titjre ] tu patu | Ix recu | bans sub | tegmine | fagi." 
 
 Virgil. 
 
 "Noxruit i ctfus | cis tel | lurem, | plectitur ] alis."— Ibid. 
 
 This last line is written 
 
 "Nox ruit et fuscis tellurem awplectitur alis." 
 
 But in the words where "um," "am," "em," or a vowel, occur, 
 the syllable is taken off by elision. Again, where the line 
 commences with a Spondee, 
 
 "Felix I cjui potu | it re j rum cog | noscere | causas." 
 
 Lucretius. 
 
 Ergo. Mr. Griswold ought to be happy in knowing his 
 book to be the cause of our review. 
 
 Now, gentle reader, is Mr. Griswold a versifier.? — we have 
 not touched him as a Poet, — and if not, and we assert he is 
 not, and never was able to understand the first principles of 
 versification, what shall be said of his presumption in becom- 
 ing the judge of a race of men whose simplest productions 
 are beyond his comprehension? We have more of his 
 ■poetry (spirits of Pope, Byron, et al., forgive our dese- 
 cration of the name!) on hand, but in none can we find two 
 correct consecutive lines, nor do we wish to inflict them on 
 the reader. But we have not yet done with the " Sunset 
 Storm." Independent of its wor.-:e than tyro-like versifica- 
 tion, it is a heterogeneous compound of sheer, naked non- 
 
NOTES. 339 
 
 sense and rank bombast. We shall examine the first verse, 
 that which we have already submitted to scansion, and then, 
 if any one deems Mr. G. a competent judge of true poetry, we 
 hope he will inflict one of //is collections upon him annually. 
 Now for it! 
 
 " The summer sun has sunk to rest 
 Below the green-clad hills, 
 And through the skies careering fast, 
 The storm-cloud rides upon the blast, 
 And now the rain distills." 
 
 We pause to credit Mr. G. with a new idea — the clouds 
 distilling rain. We have heard of men distilling whiskey, 
 alcohol, &c., but never before of clouds distilling rain. 
 
 " The flash we see, the peal we hear. 
 With winds d/efii in their wild career, 
 Till pains the ear." 
 
 '• The flash " of xvhat do we see ? " The peal " of lu/iat do 
 *' we hear''- ? Is lightning and thunder to be understood, or 
 is it the flash and peal of the storm P If the latter is meant, 
 it is another new idea. If the former — but it is not said, — 
 how can " winds" be " blent in " with a flash of lightning.? 
 ISIr. G., JNIr. G., you are as mystical as Kant, and as incom- 
 prehensible as Wordsworth, without possessing the slightest 
 claim to the common sense of either. 
 
 " It is the voice of the storm-king 
 Riding upon the lightning's wing." 
 
 We are now informed that this " blent in " mixture is 
 
 . . . " the voice of the Storm-King 
 Riding upon the lightning's wing;" 
 
 and we are happy to hear it. It is no wonder dairy-women 
 complain of their milk being curdled the morning after a 
 storm. 
 
 " Leading his banner'd hosts along the sky, 
 
 And drenching with his floods the sterile lands and dry." 
 
340 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 Is this even good grammar? Is it " the voice " or "the 
 Storm King" "leading his banner'd hosts along the sky"? 
 Tell us that! 
 
 Did any one ever read such nonsense? We never did, and 
 shall hereafter eschew everything that bears Rufus Wilmot 
 Griswold's name, as strongly as the Moslemite the forbidden 
 wine, or the Jew the " unmentionable flesh." But we must 
 say, ere we leave the "Sunset Storm," that, with the exception 
 of Mathews' " Wakondah," Pop Emmons' " Fredoniad," and 
 some portions of Hoffman's " Vigil of Faith," the world 
 never even saw such balderdash. 
 
 We defined Poetry " to be the rhj'thmical personification of 
 existing or ideal beauty; " and here we shall give a vivid ex- 
 ample of our idea, an example which even Mr. Griswold 
 acknowledges " to possess a statue-like definitiveness and 
 warmth of coloring." It is the "Sleeping Beauty," by 
 Tennyson, — the most perfect conception of loveliness we 
 ever saw, or ever expect to see, and had Tennyson written 
 nothing else, it would have made him immortal. 
 
 " Year after year unto her feet, 
 
 (She lying on her couch alone,) 
 Along the purple coverlet 
 
 The maiden's jet-black hair has grown ; 
 On either side her tranced form 
 
 Forth streaming from a braid of pearl ; 
 The slumbrous light is rich a?id vjarm, 
 
 And moves not on the rounded curl. 
 
 The silk, star-broider'd coverlet 
 
 Unto her limbs itself doth mould 
 Languidly ever ; and, amid 
 
 The full black ringlets dovjinvard rolled^ 
 Glov^,'s forth each softly-shadovf d arm 
 
 With bracelets of the diamond bright; 
 Her cojistant beauty doth inform 
 
 Stillness ivith love, and day -with light. 
 
NOTES. 341 
 
 S/te sleeps ! her hreatJiings are not heard, 
 
 1)1 palace chambers far apart, 
 The fragrant tresses are not stirred 
 
 That lie zipou her charmed heart. 
 She sleeps ! on either hand up swells 
 
 The gold-f ring'' d pillow lightly prest : 
 She sleeps, nor dreams, but ever dwells, 
 
 A perfect form, in perfect rest" 
 
 In the first place, this is a legitimate subject of poetry, fin- 
 ished with the highest artistical skill, burning with genius 
 and ideality, and secondly it conveys to the mind in the very 
 title that richest image of loveliness — a sleeping woman ! 
 Words cannot convey our conception of its beauty, nor our 
 homage to the genius of its author. The italicized lines are 
 the finest passages. 
 
 Now for Mr. Griswold's critical powers. We shall quote 
 some few passages from one of his latest reviews, and that on 
 the works of the author of the Charmed Sleeper, — Alfred 
 Tennj^son, whose genius and originality have excited the 
 wonder and admiration of the best critics in Europe, and the 
 imitative faculties of the principal poets of America. " His 
 chief characteristics pertaining to style, they will not long 
 attract regard." Here we have a gross grammatical error — 
 trvo nominatives to one verb, " characteristics" and " they" 
 to "will." "He tricks out common thoughts in dresses so 
 imique it is not always easy to identify them." (Is not this 
 originality? yet in the next portion of the sentence we hear 
 this sapient critic say,) "but we have not seen in his works 
 proofs of an original mind." {^O tempore I O mores l This 
 Griswold says of Tennyson /) Again, " as a versifier, Holmes 
 is equal to Tennyson, and with the same patient effort would 
 every way surpass him." (We advise Dr. Holmes, who does 
 possess some merit as a versifier, to beg Mr. G. not to puff 
 him, or he may depend upon his poems being incontinently 
 d— d.) "We desire none of h's companionship!" (Don't 
 you hope you may get it,?) "Him who stole at first hand 
 
nA2 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 from Keats.'* Well, if this is not the height of assurance 
 we don't know what assurance is, coming as it does from one 
 of the most clumsy of literary thieves, and who, in his wildest 
 aspirations, never even dreamed of an original thought. A 
 man who does not understand the first principles of versifi- 
 cation, the author of the " Sunset Ston-n;"and to speak thus of 
 such a man as Tennyson, the author of the Sleeping Beauty 
 we have just quoted ! We can only say to Mr. Griswold, Jove 
 pi-otect us from his reviewing, and the public from what he 
 deems exquisite. These remarks are from a man whose ex- 
 travagant praise of Puffer Hopkins, one of the most abortive 
 emanations ever issued from an American press, has been the 
 daily ridicule of the whole community, and even of his own 
 most inthnate friends. A book which he stamps " as origi- 
 nal," which is the most palpable imitation of Boz's style, and 
 like all imitations, only so upon the surface, wanting any- 
 thing like genuine wit, pathos, or profundity, whose serious 
 passages are extremely ridiculous, and whose comic won- 
 derfully tragic. 
 
 Now for the Book! the "Poets and Poetry of Amer- 
 ica." As regards its tj-pography and execution, it is very, 
 very neat, and the lines around give a compactness-and finish 
 perfectly desirable to the appearance of its pages. 
 
 Let us commence with the delectable matter which con- 
 stitutes Mr. Griswold's original portion of the " Poets of 
 America." In the first place we have the preface. 
 
 " It is said that the ^riiiciples of our fathers are beginning 
 to be regarded -vith indifference.'''' Who has said this, Mr. G. "i 
 Is the name or the principles of a Washington or Jefferson 
 beginning to be obliterated in our hearts.? Does not every 
 American's bosom burn when he reads their names, or hears 
 them promulgated from the rostrum.? And the bursting 
 huzzas from every lip at such a moment as the last, how well 
 they speak that '• the principles of our fathers are beginning 
 to be regarded with indifference." Is " love of country decay- 
 ing, and are '■^ the affections of our people in that transition 
 state from the simplicity of Democracy to the gilded shoxvs of 
 Aristocratic government r' Perish the scandal! '■'■ Our na- 
 
NOTES. 343 
 
 tional tastes ajid feelhigs are fashioned by the subject of 
 J^i»o-s." Are we to understand this as a poetical license or 
 not, for with these facts staring us in the face we cannot but 
 imagine you've told a good many poetical lies since jou have 
 been in the business? If— and you assert it in set round 
 terms — jou think so, jou are wrong. They are not so; at 
 least by the majority, though they may be \>y the foolish few 
 miscalled " the first circle of society ! " — the worshippers of 
 an Ellsler, a Morpeth, or an Ashburton, whose only merit is 
 their wealth, and whose intellects rarely expand beyond the 
 cut of a coat or the fashion of a mantilla. After reading such 
 opinions promulgated, who can think our compiler a fit man 
 to judge oi American poetry, even had he possessed the com- 
 petency. But Mr. G. is going to Europe, and there his opin- 
 ions will meet with support. 
 
 Let us proceed. Ah I what have we here.? " The creation 
 of beauty^ the manifestation of the real by the ideal, in zvords 
 that move in metrical array, is poetry" Now what is this 
 but a direct amplification by our poet, of the definition of po- 
 etry — ' ' the rhythmical creation of beauty " — which appeared 
 in Mr. Poe's critique on Professor Longfellow's ballads, from 
 which xve know, and he knows, he stole it. 
 
 Well, we have looked over the book, and we find it just such 
 a result as might be anticipated. The biographies are miser- 
 ably written, and as to the criticisms on style, they are cer- 
 tainly not critiques raisonnes, and that simply because reason 
 and thinking are entirely out of Mr. G.'s sphere. As to the 
 different degrees of merit allotted to each author, we cannot 
 help thinking it possible, but we will not say it, that sub rosa 
 arrangements were made, and a proportionable quantity of 
 fame allotted, in consideration of the quid pro quo received. 
 Besides, the whole work is not even a specimen of the 
 Poets and Poetry of America; and in giving it our un- 
 qualified condemnation, we only cite the opinion of all, even 
 to the Poets who have been so unfortunate as to figure in its 
 pages, and we are satisfied our review will be met with 
 vivas wherever the book has been seen or read. 
 
 Now we want to know one thing : Is writing Poetry the 
 
344 Z/i^^ OF EDGAR A. POE. 
 
 exclusive privilege of the aristocracy of our countr3-? for we 
 are so led to imagine by finding no poor writers in this work. 
 No! Thev are all "descended from ancient and honored 
 families," " the sons of wealthy members of the Society of 
 Friends," or of " eminent lawyers,'* or " wealthy merchants," 
 " wealthy lawyers," themselves, &c., &c., adiiifinitmn. How 
 comes this? It is answered in a word. Mr. G. belongs to 
 the class called " toady; " and as he is very ambitious of one 
 day acquiring a position, can have no fellow-feeling for the 
 class he would leave behind him. To this, and this alone, 
 (and Mr. G. knows we speak — and it is as unpleasant for us 
 to say as it is for him to hear it — the truth,) two thirds of the 
 poets owe even the transitory reputation they have acquired 
 in this miserable book. And now that we feel in the vein, 
 we shall propound to Mr. Griswold a few questions. Why 
 was Robert Tyler, the author of Ahasuerus, &c., omitted.? 
 Why was Frederick W. Thomas insulted with a place as the 
 author of o«c song, among the miscellaneous writers, after his 
 having been written to, and " his biography and best articles " 
 solicited } Was it not because he did not obey your dictato- 
 rial and impertinent request to wviiefor yotc the biography 
 of Mrs. Welby } Answer us that, Mr. Griswold ! How comes 
 it that C. Fenno Hoftman is the greatest poet in America, and 
 that his articles figure more than two to one over Bryant, 
 and ten to one over Lowell, Longfellow, &c. } Why were 
 Edward Everett, LL. D., John Quincy Adams, Samuel W^ood- 
 worth, (the insult might have been spared the dying poet,) 
 Robert M. Bird, M. D., J. K. Mitchell, M.D., Sarah G. Hale, 
 George P. Morris, Rev. W^illiam B. Tappan, Catharine H. 
 Esling (or Miss Waterman, as she is better known), Horace 
 Greeley, Seba Smith, Charles West Thompson, Rev. Charles 
 W. Everest, Lieut. G. W. Patten, William W\allace (author 
 of the Star Lyra, (S:c.), INIrs. Francis S. Osgood (one of our 
 sweetest poetesses), James N. Barker, &c., &c., classed under 
 the head of "various authors," thereby throwing openly the 
 charge of their incompetency to sustain the name of Poets, 
 and imph'ing that they were only occasional scribblers.? 
 (This, and of such men, is again from Rufus Wilmot Gris- 
 wold !) 
 
NOTES. 
 
 345 
 
 Are there no such persons in existence as Anna Cora 
 Mowatt, Ljdia J. Pierson, Juliet H. Lewis, Mrs. Harriet 
 Muzzy, Mrs. E. S. Stedman, &c. .? And if so, have t/iey 
 never written poetry? And if thej have, why are they 
 omitted? 
 
 Shame on such black injustice, which is made the blacker 
 by imposing men, of whom no one ever heard out of their 
 own parlors, upon the public as poets, and that above their 
 superiors in genius, talent, artistical skill, and brilliant flow 
 of ideality and language ! 
 
 Again, how came you to alter Dr. J. K. Mitchell's song in 
 such a manner that the author scarcely knows his own pro- 
 duction.? Just think of the impudence of the thing — Rufus 
 Wilmot Griswold altering a production of Dr. J. K. Mitchell ! 
 And now that we are in our own city, has it no poets.? Are 
 Dr. Mitchell, C. West Thompson, and Catharine H. Esling 
 only worthy to appear in one article in your contemptible 
 appendix.? Where is the Hon. Robert T. Conrad.? You 
 surely could not have forgotten him, for his " Aylmere " has 
 been the most successful of American Tragedies, and he is the 
 author of some of the finest poems known i,n American lit- 
 erature. Where is Professor Walter, Morton McMichael, 
 Robert Morris (another sweet poet), the Rev. T. H. Stock- 
 ton, and Dr. English.? How came you to forget Mr. Spear, 
 who was once placed by the Courier, if we remember aright, 
 close to Shakspeare, and somewhere between Cowper and 
 Goldsmith? We might name otners. However, all these 
 gentlemen should be gratified at their non-appearance in the 
 volume before us, for if ever such a thing as literary ruin ex- 
 isted, or exists, nine tenths of the Poets (!) of America are 
 ruined forever by the praise of Mr. Griswold ! This is our 
 unvarnished opinion ; and as we have established the fact of 
 our knowing something of Poetry and its concomitants, and 
 that Mr. Griswold is as ignorant of it and them as aKickapoo 
 Indian, we fancy it will pass for current coin. 
 
 But to close this affair. Had Mr. Gdswold the genius of a 
 Shakspeare, the powers of a Milton, or the critical learning 
 of a Macaulay, he could not stem the torrent of animadver- 
 22 
 
34^ 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 
 
 sion this book has raised ; but must be overwhelmed by the 
 tide of public disapprobation which has set in so strongly 
 upon him ; but as he has neither the one nor the other, what 
 will be his fate? Forgotten, save only by those whom he has 
 injured and insulted, he will sink into oblivion, without leav- 
 ing a landmark to tell that he once existed; or, if he is 
 spoken of hereafter, he wnll be quoted as the tuifaithfid ser- 
 vant ivho abused his trust. 
 
 NOTE m. (Page 246.) 
 
 The late Edgar Allan Poe, who was the husband of my only 
 daughter, the son of my eldest brother, and more than a son 
 to myself, in his long-continued and affectionate observance 
 of every duty to me, — under an impression that he might be 
 called suddenly from the world, wrote (just before he left his 
 home in Fordham, for the last time, on the 29th of June, 1849) 
 requests that the Rev. Rufus W. Griswold should act as his 
 literary Executor, and superintend the publication of his 
 works; — and that N. P. Willis, Esq., should write such 
 observations upon his life and character as he might deem 
 suitable to address to thinking men, in vindication of his 
 memory. 
 
 These requests he made with less hesitation, and with con- 
 fidence that they w^ould be fulfilled, from his knowledge of 
 these gentlemen ; and he many times expressed a gratifica- 
 tion of such an opportunity of decidedly and unequivocally 
 certifying his respect for the literary judgment and integrity 
 of Mr. Griswold, with whom his personal relations, on 
 account of some unhappy misunderstanding, had for years 
 been interrupted. 
 
 In this edition of my son's works, which is published for 
 my benefit, it is a great pleasure to me to thank Mr. Griswold 
 and Mr. Willis for their prompt fulfilment of the wishes of 
 the dying poet, in labors which demanded much time and 
 attention, and which they have performed without any other 
 
NOTES. 347 
 
 recompense than the happiness which rewards acts of duty 
 and kindness. I add to these expressions of gratitude to 
 them my acknowledgments to J. R. Lowell, Esq., for his 
 notices of Mr. Poe's genius and writings which are here 
 published. Maria Clemm. 
 
 NOTE n. (Page 269.) 
 
 The account quoted from the history of the Poe monument, 
 as givenbyProfessorElliot, omits to credit Mr. Paul H. Hayne, 
 Miss Lisle Lester, and Professor Edmonson with their impor- 
 tant efforts in making the monument an accomplished fact, by 
 rousing public interest in it, in the face of the general apathy 
 which then prevailed (1S74), and in spite of considerable op- 
 position from leading Baltimore newspapers. It was, indeed, 
 by an article written by Mr. Hayne, entitled " Poe's Neglect' 
 ed Grave," that Mr. Childs's attention was enlisted in the 
 subject. Upon reading this article, he immediately wrote to 
 a well-known Baltimore gentleman, offering to pay all ex- 
 penses of a monument to be erected over Poe's remains. 
 Before Mr. Childs's generous offer could be practicably car- 
 ried out, the committee of the School Teachers' Association 
 of Baltimore acquainted him with t/icir plan, for the consum- 
 mation of which he at once offered a substantial guaranty. 
 
 NOTE o. 
 
 In 1878, the writer paid a visit to the tomb of Virginia Poe, at 
 Fordham, and, learning that changes were to be made in the in- 
 terest of the owners of the vault, gathered the precious bones of 
 the departed to preserve these mournful relics from imminent an- 
 nihilation, in order to place them at some future time with the 
 ashes of the poet in Baltimore. 
 
Edgar A. Poe's Works. 
 
 •-»* 
 
 COMPLETE WORKS. Library Edition. 
 
 4 vols., crown 8vo, cloth, $7.50; X calf $15.00 
 
 SELECTED WORKS. Household Edition. 
 
 (Poems and Prose.) i vol., i2mo, cloth 2.00 
 
 PROSE TALES. Cabinet Edition. 
 
 Covtplete. 2 vols., i6mo, cloth, per vol 1.50 
 
 LIFE AND POEMS. Cabinet Edition, 
 
 Uniform with "Prose Tales." i6mo, cloth 1.50 
 
 X calf, 3.00. Full Turkey Morocco 4.00 
 
 POEMS AND ESSAYS. Memorial Edition. 
 
 All the Poems, Selected Essays, a Comprehensive Memoir, the 
 Monumental Proceedings, Fac-Similes, Illustrations, S:c., iS:c. 
 
 Handsome Cover, 8vo, cloth, 2.25. ^ calf 4.00 
 
 Full Turkey morocco 5.00 
 
 POEMS ILLUSTRATED. 4to Edition. 
 
 28 Illustrations by leading Artists. Cloth extra, full gilt sides 
 
 and edges, 3.50, Turkey morocco 6.00 
 
 POEMS. Diamond Edition. Square, i6mo i.oo 
 
 POEMS. Blue and Gold Edition. 32mo i.oo 
 
 PROSE TALES. Popular Edition. 
 
 (Selections.) 2 vols., large i2mo, paper, per vol 0.50 
 
 GILL'S LIFE OF POE. lamo, illustrated 1.75 
 
 W. J. WIDDLETON, PUBLISHER, NEW YORK. 
 
POE'S COMPLETE WORKS. 
 
 A HAKDSOME LIBEAEY EDMON" 
 
 OF THE 
 
 Complete Works 
 
 EDGAR ALLAN POE, 
 
 In Four Volumes, Croiun 8vo. 
 
 Containing- every well-authenticated prose story, article, or poem 
 that the poet himself deemed worthy of preservation, a full and ex- 
 haustive memoir by John H. Ingram; sketches of his life and char- 
 acter by Geo. R. Graham, N. P. Willis, and James Russell. Lowell; 
 an account of the Death, and the Monumental proceedmg-s upon the 
 occasion of the re-burial at Baltimore in 1875, with all the addresses, 
 letters, poems, etc., attendmg- it. A fine Steel Portrait of Foe, with 
 autog^raph— his Fordham Cottag-e— Monument— fac-simUe Letters and 
 Poems, and other illustrations. 
 
 " These volumes — Foe's les^acy to the world, of the fruits of his higher 
 and better life— his clierished and miperishable writings, should have their 
 place in the library of every American." 
 
 "Needless to say that these volumes will be found rich in intellectual 
 excitements, and abounding in brilliant specimens of viirorous, beautiful and 
 sugge-tive composition. All that remains to us of a man whose remarkable 
 genius it would be folly to deny."— iV. T. Tribune. 
 
 4 vols., crown 8vo, cloth S "-SO 
 
 Half calf 15.00 
 
 W, J. WIDDLETON, Publisher, 714 Broadway, New York. 
 
POS'S PROSE TALES. 
 A COLLECTION OF THE FAMOUS 
 
 PEOSE STORIES 
 
 OF 
 
 EDGAR ALLAN POE, 
 
 Cabinet Edition. Complete in Two Volumes. 
 
 Large IGmo, about GOO pages each. 
 
 " Of the marvelous character of these Tales of the Gi'otesqvie 
 and Arabesque it is no longer necessary to speak— since they now 
 hold a chief place in the history of American writing-, and are 
 famed the world over as the product of the most subtile and per- 
 plexing genius that has arisen in American Literature." 
 
 2 Vols., 16mo, Cloth, Gilt Top $3.00 
 
 A Cheaper Edition (Selections), 3 Vols., 12mo, Paper 
 Covers 50 cts. per Vol. 
 
 POE'S LIFE AND POEMS. 
 
 Unifornri with his " Prose Stories." 
 
 THE LIEE AITD POEMS 
 
 OF 
 
 Edgar Allan Pol. 
 
 Cabinet Edition, 1 Vol., 16mo, 
 
 Containing all the Poems, a Steel Portrait and Autograph, the 
 "Fordham Cottage" and other illustrations, a new Memoir of tl^e 
 Poet by Eugene L. Didier, and an Introductory Letter by Sahau 
 Helen Whitman. 
 
 16mo, Cloth, Gilt Top $L50 
 
 Half Calf, S3.00. Full Morocco, %Lm. 
 
 W.J.WIDDLETON, Publisher, 714 Broadway, New York. 
 
GILLS' LBFE OF POE. 
 
 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE, 
 
 WITH 
 
 ANECDOTES, REMINISCENCES, AND LETTERS. 
 
 BY WILLIAM FEARING GILL. 
 
 Fifth Edition, Revised and Enlarged, with Portrait and numer- 
 ous Illustrations and Fac-Similes. i2mo, Cloth, %i.7S- 
 
 Atlantic Monthly. 
 
 •' It is worth while to review the facts of Poe's life as here given, 
 for they have not been before presented so fully and so well. Mr. 
 Gill has certainly performed a service in the preparation of this 
 biography, for which he deserves serious thanks." 
 
 Boston Transcript. 
 
 " The work may be fairly said to be exhaustive. The analysis of 
 
 ' The Raven' is an ingenious piece of work, and is far more 
 
 plausible than Poe's elaborate explanation of his method of writing 
 
 it." 
 
 Jfeiu Torh Trihiinc. 
 
 "The glimpse given of his peculiar and interesting ancestry 
 throws an indispensable light upon the character and inborn ten- 
 dencies of Edgar Poe, and Mr. Gill skillfully traces the combined 
 influence of these interior tendencies and of external circumstances 
 upon the unfortunate career of the trebly gifted romancer, poet, 
 and critic. The great merit of the volume, however, is that for the 
 first time it supplies a consistent and truthful account of a sin- 
 gularly perplexed career." 
 
 Christian Union. 
 
 "■ To have done his work so thoroughly, and with results so im- 
 portant, is to have made a book of which many a renowned writer 
 might be justly proud." 
 
 Boston Post. 
 
 "It especially appeals to the collectors of libraries, public and 
 private, while the student of American literature will find this book 
 one of the most profitable and interesting he can consult." 
 
 W. J. WIDDLETON, Publisher, 714 Broadway, New York. 
 
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