A theory to fill the gap

Next to nothing is known about what happened to Poe after September 27, 1849, until six days later (that story will be later this week). It is even unclear where Poe was going when he left Richmond (Richmond's newspaper the Semi-Weekly Examiner reported he was on his way to New York, even though he had an appointment in Philadelphia, but the ship he presumably took was headed to Baltimore). That lack of information has led to speculation which is sometimes wild.

Perhaps the strangest comes from Poe "scholar" John Evangelist Walsh. Among his small series of Poe books is Midnight Dreary: The Mysterious Death of Edgar Allan Poe. Though intended as a scholarly study of the last few days in the life of Poe, Walsh fills in the gaps with several heapings of fiction (the narrative voice he uses is part of the problem). It is from Walsh that we get the strange suggestion of accidental murder on the part of the brothers of Sarah Elmira Royster Shelton.

Elmira had almost certainly agreed to marriage by the time Poe left Richmond, rekindling a teenage romance that could have had a storybook ending. Nevertheless, it seems obvious that Elmira's family was not too pleased with Poe. Elmira may also have been concerned because her ample inheritance from her deceased husband would be slashed by a second marriage.

According to Dr. John J. Moran (the attending physician when Poe dies; any information from him should be deemed questionable at best), a train conductor named George Rollins said that Poe boarded a train from Baltimore to Philadelphia. Upon arriving, he did not disembark, but stayed on the train to return to Baltimore (??). Now, however, he was being followed by two men looking like "sharks."

Walsh says that the two "sharks" were actually three brothers of Elmira Royster, who followed Poe to threaten him into breaking the engagement with their sister. Arriving in Baltimore, here's what Walsh tells us happens:

As he left the depot, the three brothers trailed him, watching as he checked in at the hotel. Scarcely had he settled in his room when they again barged in. First came a faint tap on the locked door, then in response to Poe's wary question perhaps a polite, "Message, sir." As the door opened a crack there came a sudden rush into the room.

The brothers then force-fed whiskey to their victim, breaking Poe's temperance pledge to Elmira and thereby forcing an end to the engagement. They also threatened to ruin his reputation by spreading rumors of his relationship with Sarah Helen Whitman, and fathering an illegitimate child with Frances Osgood. Poe fought back, however, but was overpowered and forced to drink more alcohol. In his stupefied state, they left him outside of Ryan's Tavern — or so Walsh speculates.

Walsh's evidence is based on Poe's disappearing mustache, his traveling trunk (Jeffrey Savoye wrote more on this), a letter from poet Elizabeth Oakes Smith, Moran's testimony (picking what works for his theory and dismissing what doesn't), an ignored article published in 1857 with a similar theory, and his own imaginative prowess. I would speculate most Poe scholars dismiss this theory instantly, though there are a few who think at least a portion of this story is plausible.

Elmira did not speak up after Poe's death, refusing to be brought into the public eye. When she finally did answer questions, she denied her engagement with Poe entirely. Was she hiding her family's involvement?

*The photo above is the Shelton House in Richmond, still standing at 2407 Grace Street (a private residence). The image is courtesy of the incredible "Poe Revealed" web site, which focuses on Poe's bicentennial in the commonwealth of Virginia.

Poe takes his last trip

On September 27, 1849, Edgar A. Poe fell off the radar. He will not be seen or heard from again for another six days.

The night before his disappearance, there are several stories about what he was doing; how true they are is debated. He apparently visited the office of the Southern Literary Messenger (his former employer) to meet with John R. Thompson. He told Thompson he was leaving for New York the next day but stopping in Philadelphia on the way. In Philadelphia, he was supposed to edit a volume of (bad) poetry by a poetaster named Mrs. Marguerite St. Leon Loud — a gig he only accepted for the decent pay. Thompson gave Poe $5 to cover the trip (as well as a letter to give to Rufus Griswold in Philadelphia); Poe paid him back with a manuscript of a poem titled "Annabel Lee." Likely, this was just a gift, not intended for publication, as "Annabel Lee" had just been sold to John Sartain of the Union Magazine. Thompson published it anyway, claiming to Griswold that he paid "a high price" for it. Information from Thompson comes from his letter to Griswold as well as interviews with the questionable William Fearing Gill, an early (fanatic) biographer of Poe.

Sarah Elmira Royster Shelton claimed that Poe visited her at home the same day. "He came up to my house on the evening of the 26th Sept. to take leave of me — He was very sad, and complained of being quite sick." Elmira claimed he had a fever and urged him not to travel in such a condition the next day. She claims that she confirmed he had already left the next morning when she tried to check on him. Elmira's recollections often wavered so she may or may not be credible.

"About half-past nine" in the evening, Poe visited a young doctor named John F. Carter, presumably for the fever Elmira mentioned. He left (supposedly switching canes with Carter) to eat dinner at Sadler's Restaurant. According to Dr. Carter, the restaurant later told him Poe left "at exactly twelve that night" to board a boat which would depart at four o'clock. Biographer Arthur Hobson Quinn did some considerable thinking about this aspect of the story, whether Poe was really taking a boat which left at 4 a.m. or one at 4 p.m. and which boat, if any, was scheduled to leave that day.

Either way, it was the next day, September 27, a Thursday, when Poe left Richmond. It is believed he boarded a steamer to Baltimore (odd, considering the plans he revealed to John Thompson), identified by Arthur Hobson Quinn and others as Pocahontas. If it was this particular ship, we know that it successfully arrived in Baltimore the next day. Whether it was the next day or not, Poe's next appearance (six days later) would definitely be in Baltimore. Speculation rages if Poe went to Baltimore first, then went on to Philadelphia or New York, then returned to Baltimore, or if he never made it out of Baltimore. That's not including the speculation about whether or not Poe actually left on the 27th or if he went a day or two later. Poe was not in a condition to explain any of it. More on that soon.

The Last Lecture

At 8:00 p.m. on September 24, 1849, Edgar Poe presented his last lecture on "The Poetic Principle." Held at the Exchange Hotel in Richmond, Poe's lecture discussed his poetic theory, particularly that a poem should be written merely for the sake of being a poem, not as instruction. Poetry is art, he implies, and therefore should focus on pure beauty and aesthetics. He also says that a poem should be short, able to be read in a single sitting. He gave specific examples of poets he thought were good, and others he thought were bad.

Poe had given lectures on the topic before, including one in Richmond. In fact, the local newspaper that day, Daily Republican, noted, "Although it is a repetition, we are sure that few, if any, who attended his first lecture, would be unwilling to hear it over again, and those who were not present on that occasion, will deprive themselves of a delightful entertainment by failing to attend to-night." One of the audience members was Sarah Elmira Royster Shelton, who supposedly had a prime seat in the front row. 57 years later, the (usually unreliable source) Susan Archer Talley wrote that Rosalie Poe was there too.

We don't know for sure what was said in the original lectures. His first versions of it were lost or stolen and had to be rewritten. The manuscript from his September lecture in Richmond, however, apparently survived and was found in Poe's trunk after his death. According to the Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore, poet/editor Bayard Taylor wanted to sell this manuscript to George Graham for the benefit of Maria Clemm. Instead, it was purchased by John Sartain, who published it in his Union Magazine in October 1850. Taylor, working on behalf of Rufus Griswold, likely never turned the money over to Mrs. Clemm.

From that published version of the lecture, we see that Poe praises William Cullen Bryant ("The intense melancholy which seems to well up, perforce, to the surface of all the poet's cheerful sayings about his grave, we find thrilling us to the soul — while there is the truest poetic elevation in the thrill. The impression left is one of a pleasurable sadness.") as well as Edward Coote Pinkney, Lord Byron, and Lord Tennyson.

It was Poe's last public appearance before he vanished.

Poe's proposal in a cemetery

Before I get back to Poe's engagement to Sarah Elmira Royster Shelton, let's go back to exactly one year earlier. It is believed that on September 23, 1848, Poe proposed to the poet Sarah Helen Whitman in Providence, Rhode Island at the Swan Point Cemetery.

The romance between Poe and Whitman, who shared the same January 19 birthday (though she was six years older), was a strange one. She was fairly intellectual but had an alleged heart condition which she treated by inhaling from an ether-soaked handkerchief. More strange, however, was her affiliation with Transcendentalists, including the "busybody" Margaret Fuller. She also had a friendship with, of all people, Elizabeth F. Ellet. Poe was understating things when he wrote, "My heart is heavy, Helen, for I see that your friends are not my own."

Poe had called at Whitman's home in Providence (still standing) on September 21. Over the next couple days, she introduced him to friends and took him to the Providence Athenaeum. He gave her some of his books and revealed he was the author of the poem "Ulalume." On September 23, they visited the cemetery. Whitman later recalled:

He endeavored... to persuade me that my influence and my presence would have power to lift his life out of the torpor of despair which had weighed upon him, and give an inspiration to his genius, of which he had as yet given no token. Notwithstanding the eloquence with which he urged upon me his wishes and his hopes, I knew too well that I could not exercise over him the power which he ascribed to me.*

Poe gave up for a time and had to leave Providence. He would later resume his efforts to impress Whitman, even going so far as taking a pledge of temperance. They eventually were engaged but the December wedding was canceled when rumors were spread about Poe. Nevertheless, years later, Sarah Helen Whitman became one of Poe's strongest advocates after his death.

*The quote comes from a letter, written 25 years later, from Whitman to Richard Henry Stoddard, the self-appointed heir to the literary legacy of Rufus Wilmot Griswold. Think what you will.

Dearest object on earth

A letter was written to Maria Clemm, mother-in-law of Edgar Poe, on September 22, 1849. The letter-writer was a woman who had never met Maria, yet she wrote: "I feel as if I were writing to one whom I love very devotedly." Sarah Elmira Shelton (nee Royster) was encouraged to write this letter by her new fiancee, Edgar Poe.

Poe had first met Elmira when they were both teenagers in Richmond, but their budding romance was cut short due to the intervention of her father while Poe was away at the University of Virginia. The failed romance inspired a short story by Poe's brother William Henry Leonard Poe and, possibly, a play by Lambert A. Wilmer, a Baltimore friend of W. H. L. Poe. If nothing else, many of Poe's early poems about lost love or youthful folly seem inspired by the relationship.

Elmira married Alexander Shelton, but Mr. Shelton died shortly before she crossed paths with Poe again. Poe dropped in on her in July 1848 (she wrote, "I was ready to go to church and a servant told me that a gentleman in the parlor wanted to see me. I went down and was amazed to see him — but knew him instantly.") and it seems their relationship picked up right where it left off. However, Alexander Shelton's will stipulated that the ample inheritance left for her would be cut substantially. He pushed, she acquiesced, and it all happened very quickly: His visit was September 17, her letter to Maria Clemm was only five days later. In it, she referred to him as her "dearest object on earth." Nevertheless, it seems Elmira's family, particularly her brothers, never approved of the coupling. Poe then left Richmond on September 27, 1849. The marriage would never take place; Poe died two weeks after the letter from Elmira to Maria Clemm was written.

After Poe's death, Elmira kept tight-lipped about her relationship with Poe. She later said she would not have married him "under any circumstances" — a strange thing to say, considering what she wrote to Maria Clemm. She changed her tune again in June 1884 when she was interviewed by Dr. John J. Moran, who was preparing a booklet on his experience as Poe's attending physician in his last days. Moran's account is known for its lack of credibility in general but Elmira's changing testimony is questionable and confusing, which has led to some suspicion about her family's role in Poe's death...

Bicentennial of Sophia Peabody Hawthorne

2009 is celebrating more than just Edgar Poe. Another figure who celebrates a bicentennial this year is Sophia Amelia Peabody, later Mrs. Nathaniel Hawthorne. I have no evidence that Sophia (pronounced with a hard i as So-fy-uh) interacted with Poe. But, it's interesting to consider what's happening in Hawthorne's home life while he interacts with Poe.

The April 1842 issue of Graham's Magazine included a brief preliminary review of Hawthorne's Twice-Told Tales, followed the next month by a more substantial full review. Hawthorne was living at the Utopian community Brook Farm, an ultimately unsuccessful Transcendental experiment. Hawthorne wasn't a believer in the experiment, but joined in the hopes of making enough money to support his future wife Sophia. He moved out in October. A few months later, Hawthorne published a humorous sketch on his contemporaries called "The Hall of Fantasy" in the February 1843 issue of James Russell Lowell's The Pioneer. The "Hall" of the title is the haven of quality writing that minor writers aspire to. "Mr. Poe," he wrote, "had gained ready admittance for the sake of his imagination, but was threatened with ejectment, as belonging to the obnoxious class of critics."* Poe's poem "Lenore" was published in the same issue.

The issue impressed Poe enough that he wanted to include Hawthorne as a contributor to his dream journal, The Penn. He wrote to J. R. Lowell asking him to serve as an intermediary on March 27, 1843. By then, Hawthorne had been married to Sophia for about eight months. Two days earlier, Hawthorne had complained to his friend Horatio Bridge about his money situation. "I did not come to see you, because I was very short of cash — having been disappointed in money that I had expected from three or four sources." Those sources likely included Lowell's The Pioneer, which had already gone out of business after only three issues. His financial situation wasn't getting much better when his first child was born. Sophia Peabody Hawthorne gave birth to Una Hawthorne on born March 3, 1844, after a particularly difficult delivery. Five months later, Poe wrote to Lowell and asked, "Do you ever see Mr Hawthorne? He is a man of rare genius."

Hawthorne's great letter to Poe was written from Salem, MA on June 17, 1846. In it, he informs Poe of the upcoming publication of Mosses from an Old Manse and praises Poe's ability to write tales (with a minor pot-shot at Poe's criticism). Five days later, his son Julian Hawthorne was born. After some delay, Godey's Lady's Book published Poe's essay "Tale-Writing — Nathaniel Hawthorne" in its November 1847 issue. By this time, Hawthorne's financial stress was alleviated by a government-appointed job at the Salem Custom-House. The job provided him decent income, but also stymied his literary output; he was forced out of the job in 1848.

Poe died in 1849, a year before the publication of Hawthorne's life-changing work, The Scarlet Letter. I can only speculate what Poe would have thought of the book. My guess is that he wouldn't have cared much for it. The heavy moral tone goes against Poe's theory of the "heresy of the didactic," not to mention how difficult it is to find a novel which Poe liked in general.

Anyway, happy 200th birthday to Sophia Amelia Peabody Hawthorne.

*When republished in Mosses from an Old Manse, Hawthorne excised many of these references. Though he meant it all in good spirit, Hawthorne's use of real names may have impeded his attempts at making money off his writing.

This shape was peculiar

Continuing the series of Poe works published in September issues, I realized I almost neglected one of the most interesting and spirited of Poe's tales. "The Oblong Box" was first published in the September 1844 issue of Godey's Lady's Book (and, part of a trend of concurrent publications, similar to "The Raven," it was also published in the August 28, 1844 issue of the Philadelphia Dollar Newspaper).

"The Oblong Box" is a mixture of some of Poe's greatest story-telling elements. Set as a variation of the sea adventure tale, the story follows an unnamed narrator traveling by boat (the Independence) from Charleston, South Carolina to New York. On board, he bumps into his old friend Cornelius Wyatt, who is traveling with his wife and two sisters. The narrator is suspicious that his friend has rented three state-rooms, not to mention the cargo he brought aboard: an oblong box, ("this shape was peculiar," we are told) and a fairly large one at that — "about six feet in length by two and half in breadth." The box is made of pine and emits a slight odor. As a reader, you might already know what's in the box, but the narrator sure didn't.

Instead, he assumes (oddly) that the box housed a copy of The Last Supper that Wyatt recently acquired. He grows more suspicious, however, when he realizes how those three state-rooms are being used. One is for the two sisters, the other seems to be empty, and the third is for Wyatt, his wife, and the mysterious box. At night, however, Wyatt's wife leaves the room and spends the rest of the night in the empty room. After she leaves, the narrator hears the box being opened, followed by his friend's audible sobs. When the Independence is caught in a hurricane and breaks apart, Wyatt refuses to get in a lifeboat and leave the box behind. Instead, he goes down with the ship.

Some time later, the narrator meets the captain of the ship, who reveals what was in that box, why Wyatt refused to part with it, and why his "wife" left the state-room every night.

In addition to elements of the sea tale, the ending proves "The Oblong Box" is a horror story. The mystery behind the box, however, also implies it is a part of Poe's developing "ratiocination" method of tale-telling. More than all this, however, is the amazing symbolism in the story. Wyatt refuses to part with his precious cargo while aboard a ship named Independence, of all things. The voyage from South Carolina also echoes Poe's own trip from there via steamboat.

Oddly, Arthur Hobson Quinn notes that Poe offered the tale to Nathaniel Parker Willis, who suggested it be included in a new annual gift-book founded by Rufus Griswold. The Opal, which was edited first by Willis and later by Sarah Josepha Hale, was subtitled "A Pure Gift for the Holidays." Packed with religious or moral tales and poems for Christmas, "The Oblong Box" would have been an odd fit.

Poe and politics

Frederick William Thomas came to visit Poe at his house (then on Coates Street in Philadelphia) on September 17, 1842. Years later, he described Poe's home life in the so-called Quaker City:

He lived in a rural home on the outskirts of the city. His house was small, but comfortable inside for one of the kind. The rooms looked neat and orderly, but everything about the place wore an air of pecuniary want. Although I arrived late in the morning Mrs. Clemm, Poe's mother-in-law, was busy preparing for his breakfast. My presence possibly caused some confusion, but I noticed that there was delay and evident difficulty in procuring the meal. His wife entertained me. Her manners were agreeable and graceful... She and her mother showed much concern about Eddie, as they called Poe, and were anxious to have him secure work.

Thomas was a writer himself and, throughout his 60 years, lived in Providence, Charleston, Baltimore, Cincinnati — though it was in Philadelphia that he met Edgar Poe. Thomas maintained a long, frequent correspondence with Poe, three years his junior; letters between the two are very frank, honest, and interesting. Thomas also got his hands dirty in politics and campaigned on behalf of William Henry Harrison, who died shortly after his presidential inauguration. Harrison's successor, the "accidental president" John Tyler, compensated Thomas for his support by granting him a clerkship at the Treasury Department in Washington, D.C.

Thomas hoped his connection with the new president would lead to a job for his friend Poe. Their September 1842 meeting was to discuss this possibility. Robert Tyler, son of the new president, was in town and would likely show his support for granting Poe a government job, Thomas believed. But, Poe knew his preferred path: even as Thomas chatted with Poe about obtaining a government post, Poe chatted about creating his own literary journal. Nevertheless, the struggling writer/critic was somewhat intrigued by government work, which he had heard was easy money. Thomas implied the job was all but his already; Robert Tyler was "remarkably fond of poetry." He agreed to meet Thomas the next morning.

Thomas likely didn't hear from Poe for several days. A letter from Poe dated September 21, 1842 excuses his absence:

I am afraid you will think that I keep my promises but indifferently well, since I failed to make my appearance at Congress Hall on Sunday, and I now, therefore, write to apologize... Upon reaching home Saturday night, I was taken with a severe chill and fever — the latter keeping me company the next day. I found myself too ill to venture out, but, nevertheless, would have done so had I been able to obtain the consent of all parties.

Poe blamed both illness and his wife for not allowing him to meet with Tyler, the president's son. Was he really sick? Was his wife concerned about his health? Or, as biographer Kenneth Silverman concludes, was he just nursing a hangover after a night's drinking? When Poe realized he had missed a good opportunity (apparently, the job promised an annual salary of $1,500 — nearly double what he was making at Graham's Magazine), he wrote he still wanted to pursue the job, "if he [Tyler] can look over matters & get me the Inspectorship I will join the Washingtonians" — a temperance group (years later, Poe did, in fact, join a temperance organization).

Birth of James Fenimore Cooper

Novelist James Fenimore Cooper was born September 15, 1789.* By rights, he should be considered among the first man of letters in the United States, alongside Washington Irving, Charles Brockden Brown and others. Of course, few of these names are recognized today and, when they are, they're not always considered major players. Irving may still be read but many literary scholars show disdain for his work as being too silly or comical. Cooper is largely forgotten, despite his immense popularity in his lifetime for works like The Last of the Mohicans — which wasn't on the curriculum when I was in school (or in college, for that matter).

Poe solicited contributions from Cooper while the former was working for the Southern Literary Messenger. Even though Poe recognized Cooper's draw, he questioned his legitimacy as a writer (his request for contributions noted they were seeking Cooper's "name" to give the magazine weight). One review from Poe, published in 1840, attacked Cooper's characterization. "We did not look for character in it, for that is not Cooper's forte; nor did we expect that his heroine would be aught better than the inanimate thing she is." Of course, Cooper's depiction of female characters is still the subject of criticism today.

In a review in Graham's Magazine (November 1843) titled "Wyandotté, or The Hutted Knoll. A Tale, By the Author of 'The Pathfinder,' 'Deerslayer,' 'Last of the Mohicans,' 'Pioneers,' 'Prairie,' &c., &c.," Poe noted that Cooper's latest production was "precisely similar to the novels enumerated in the title" (a complaint which is still issued today). Interest in these works, Poe argues, is based on "first the nature of the theme; secondly, upon a Robinson Crusoe-like detail in its management; and thirdly, upon the frequently repeated portraiture of the half-civilized Indian." Having summarized the model for all of Cooper's works, Poe concludes: "It will be at once seen that there is nothing original in this story... It is even excessively commonplace."

Poe satirized Cooper in a short story called "The Literary Life of Thingum Bob, Esq." The briefly mentioned character Mr. Fatquack is considered a genius for his writing but his novel, Dish-Clout, only earns him a whopping 62 (and a half) cents. In a review of another writer, Poe notes the emergence of "native writers": "It is not because we have no Mr. Coopers but because it has been demonstrated that we might, at any moment, have as many Mr. Coopers as we please." Was Poe right? Was Cooper just another dime-a-dozen American prose writer who got more praise than he deserved? Is Cooper's falling reputation evidence of this? I'd love to hear thoughts on this.

*Incidentally, he died one day short of his 62nd birthday on September 14, 1851. Rufus Griswold was one of the many figures who organized a memorial to him in New York.

I don't care who the devil he is

My last post was about one of Poe's most famous horror stories published in September. To balance it out, I have to write about one of my absolute favorite Poe works. "Never Bet the Devil Your Head" was first published in the September 1841 issue of Graham's Magazine. The story is a comedy, and possibly one of Poe's most successful in that genre.

The narrator/author responds to critics who note that he has never written a moral tale (Poe, after all, despised didacticism). So, the narrator tells the story of Toby Dammit, a man of many vices prone to rhetorical bets introduced with the idiomatic, "I'll bet the devil my head..." One day, he and his companion come across a covered bridge with a turnstile in the middle. Dammit, looking for some fun, bets the devil his head that he can jump clear over that turnstile.

He insisted upon leaping the stile, and said he could cut a pigeon-wing over it in the air. Now this, conscientiously speaking, I did not think he could do... I therefore told him, in so many words, that he was a braggadocio, and could not do what he said. For this I had reason to be sorry afterward;—for he straightway offered to bet the Devil his head that he could.

Right on cue, a mysterious stranger arrests their attention when he clears his throat. He decides to take Dammit up on his bet — to the dismay of the narrator, who notes, "I don't care who the devil he is." Misgivings of his friend aside, Dammit gracefully jumps over the turnstile — though as he reaches the apex of his leap, things change: his body makes it over, but his head does not ("what might be claimed a serious injury," the narrator notes). The mysterious gentleman claims the head and walks off. It turns out that, directly above the turnstile, was a thin, razor-sharp metal bar. The moral of the story? "Never bet the devil your head."

Besides the ironic humor, and the clear criticism of moral tales, "Never Bet the Devil Your Head" is also a satire on Transcendentalism. As Dammit approaches the bridge, his friend notes he is in an unusually happy mood and may, in fact, "be affected with the transcendentals," a disease.

After losing his head, the narrator notes "he did not long survive his terrible loss." After his death, the narrator sends a bill to the Transcendentalists but "the scoundrels refused to pay it." Instead, Toby Dammit's body was ground into dog's meat — perhaps a fitting fate for one who was afflicted with the disease of the transcendentals.

I think Poe here was responding to the Transcendental idea of communing directly with God or "the over-soul." If one can communicate with God, why can't he also communicate with the Devil? The result, of course, is disastrous (and hilarious). As a "moral tale," the story satirizes not only the Transcendentalists and their writings but also of popular writing in general. Poe, of course, called didacticism in literature a "heresy" which detracted from the inherent art of writing. But feel free to forget that stuff. Ultimately, "Never Bet the Devil Your Head" is simply a funny story — and very much worth reading. I've got one more post on my favorite of Poe's September stories coming soon.

For more on Poe's battles with Transcendentalism, mark your calendar for October 31. I'll be presenting a talk called "Poe vs. Transcendentalism" — in Concord, Massachusetts, of course.

The clouds hung oppressively low

September is a busy month for Poeists. Some heavy-hitters from Poe's collected works were first published in September or September issues of periodicals. The earliest was a mostly-forgotten poem published on September 15, 1827, when Poe was 18 years old, referred to as "The Happiest Day, The Happiest Hour."

His prose works which first see circulation in September include "King Pest" (1835), "Shadow — A Parable" (1835), "Ligeia" (1838), "Never Bet the Devil Your Head" (1841) and "The Oblong Box" (1844). Perhaps the most famous, however, is "The Fall of the House of Usher," published in the September 1839 issue of Burton's Magazine (the cover of that issue is pictured at left).

Regarded by some as the most perfect Gothic story ever written, "The Fall of the House of Usher" features all the tropes of that genre. The most important image, of course, is the decaying castle. The story follows an unnamed narrator who serves no purpose in the action of the story (unlike more involved narrators which play pivotal roles as main characters, like those in "The Tell-Tale Heart" and "The Cask of Amontillado"). Instead, through the eyes of this narrator, the reader meets Roderick Usher — a man broken down by his own sense of foreboding and impending doom. When Madeline Usher, Roderick's sister, dies after an illness, his feelings of doom turn to guilt. He loses his reason and goes mad (or so we assume), believing he has buried his sister before she was truly dead. Whether he was right or not is debatable — but, whether it's his undead sister or his own emotional instability, Roderick dies, leading to a very literal fall of the "house of Usher."

The story is nearly perfect. Poe's literary theory tells us that emotional response is the most important. In this story, emotions run rampant throughout and the reader feels the same sense of foreboding that Roderick does. We are left to ponder and question many aspects of the story, including its symbolism. The most alluring might be Roderick's library and his decision to recite the story of "The Mad Tryst." Somewhat distracting is the possibility of incest in the Usher family. The evidence lies only in the following lines:

I had learned, too, the very remarkable fact, that the stem of the Usher race, all time-honored as it was, had put forth, at no period, any enduring branch; in other words, that the entire family lay in the direct line of descent, and had always, with very trifling and very temporary variation, so lain.

Incest, though possible, is not certain (I read it only to say there are no remaining heirs of the Usher estate) — not that it matters. The story stands strong either way.

What amazes the most about "The Fall of the House of Usher" is its composition. Poe clearly put substantial effort into the story and, following his own literary theory, did not distract with unnecessary details. Scott Peeples, of the Poe Studies Association, notes the genius in the first line of the story which sets the tone (and buries the subject — the nameless narrator who does little to push the plot of the story forward):

During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens, I had been passing alone, on horseback, through a singularly dreary tract of country; and at length found myself, as the shades of the evening drew on, within view of the melancholy House of Usher.

More on another of my favorite September stories in my next post.

Poe's honorary membership

Poe has received various accolades over the years, but most of them have been after his death. Conversely, during their lifetimes, other writers like James Russell Lowell, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Oliver Wendell Holmes, and Washington Irving were getting thrown honorary degrees left and right while they were still living (many from institutions across the pond, like Oxford and Cambridge). Poe was a college drop-out himself so it might not be surprising that he rarely was recognized by many educational institutions during his lifetime.

One major exception might be Jefferson College, named after Thomas Jefferson — the same man who founded the Virginia university which Poe dropped out of. The tiny college in Canonsburg, Pennsylvania (south of Pittsburgh) named its literary society after Benjamin Franklin, who donated the money (in francs) which established the school's first library. The Franklin Literary Society, founded in 1797, extended an honorary membership to Edgar A. Poe on September 9, 1836.* The Franklin Literary Society still exists today, though the institution is now known as Washington & Jefferson College in Washington, PA.

What I find most impressive about this offer is that it was in 1836. Poe had not yet established himself as a major writer of fiction or poetry (his poetry collections did not garner much attention, but some great stories, including "Metzengerstein" and "MS. Found in a Bottle" had already seen print). Instead, the Franklin Literary Society was honoring Poe's contributions to the world of literary criticism, specifically as a staff member at the Southern Literary Messenger.

This might have been controversial. Poe had only recently introduced the world to his new style of literary criticism which was directly opposed to the "puffing" tradition. Instead of unquestioning praise, Poe offered sincere criticism, which often came across as mean-spirited or heavy-handed. Much to other writers' chagrin, Poe also cut his way through bad grammar and poor word choices. He examined sentences like a doctor and diagnosed a number of problems.

I had the good fortune of working at W&J College for a time. I didn't hear about the Poe connection until a few months into my time there. When I learned about it, I couldn't help but get a kick out of it: Poe is everywhere, even in a small town in southwestern Pennsylvania.

*The college maintains the original letter Poe wrote to respectfully accept his honorary membership. Unfortunately, his autograph has been torn off, likely by a collector. Pictured above is the original log cabin which was the first building of Jefferson College; it is still standing.

Poe reviews Griswold

Rufus Griswold vs. Edgar Poe is probably the greatest, and most confusing, literary battle in the history of the written word in any language. It's unclear what was really going on, who was the instigator and, most importantly, why Griswold was so harsh to Poe when Poe was dead and unable to fight back. Many scholars trace all the animosity back to one little critical review in 1842.

While preparing what would become his most important work, Rufus Griswold turned to Edgar Poe, one of the most well-known literary critics of the day. Knowing that The Poets and Poetry of America, Griswold's landmark anthology, could use some publicity to sell well, he asked Poe for a review (odd, considering Poe was somewhat biased, considering he was one of the many poets included in the book). Griswold knew Poe was desperate and he offered money out of pocket for his review — and Poe caught on that Griswold intended this exchange of cash to be a bribe. "You need not trouble yourself about the publication of the review, should you decide upon writing it," Griswold cooed, "for I will attend to all that."

Poe, however, was not known for letting people get off easy in his reviews, thanks to his caustic, "tomahawk"-style criticism. Couple that with at least some jealousy at the upstart arbiter of American literary taste stepping into the position he coveted, Poe did the unthinkable (to Griswold): he wrote a lukewarm review. Neither heavily critical nor heavily laudatory, Poe's review of The Poets and Poetry of America was, quite simply, fair. He praised Griswold's ambitious effort, while scolding some of the specific selections. He disagreed with excessive space granted to poets like Charles Fenno Hoffman and Charles Sprague and lamented the exclusion of James Russell Lowell. Ultimately, however, he determined the book was "the most important addition which our literature has for many years received." And that's saying something.

Griswold, however, was unhappy with this result. He believed his bribe should have guaranteed a review of exclusive praise, not balanced by valid criticism. Griswold knew the puffing game well, having directly demanded positive reviews throughout his career (and agreeing to write just as many as requested by others), and believed Poe's positive review "might be of good consequence." Yet, this was not a good review which Poe handed him. Lest he be judged hypocritical, Griswold simply had to do what he promised, to "attend" to finding a publisher.

On September 7, 1842, Griswold wrote to his frequent correspondent, the Boston publisher James Thomas Fields. "Perhaps Poe's article will not affect the book at all," he theorized, "but I am rather pleased that it is to appear, lest Poe should think that I had prevented its publication." He did get it published, as promised... by burying it in a relatively-unknown newspaper called the Boston Miscellany.

Not that it mattered. Poe had already published a review of The Poets and Poetry of America in Graham's Magazine by then. It was one of his last pieces before he left his editorial role there. He was immediately replaced by Rufus Griswold himself. Comparisons between Griswold and Poe as editors of Graham's rolled in immediately and, much to Griswold's dismay, he was not the favored of the two. Animosity continued to build (almost exclusively on Griswold's side; even his friends found him untrustworthy, easily angered, and at least one fellow editor, John Sartain, said that he was blackmailed by Griswold on a regular basis to prevent bad notices of his own journal).

This feud culminated on October 9, 1849, when Griswold did the unthinkable. But, more on that another time.

The libel suit, cont'd

Frequent readers of this blog may recall that Poe had brought a libel suit against Hiram Fuller, editor of the New York Mirror and the Evening Mirror. The trial was originally scheduled for September 7, 1846, though it would be postponed. Poe's lawsuit was in response to Fuller publishing a letter from Thomas Dunn English, though English himself was not named in the suit (likely because English didn't have money, but the publication did). Perhaps because of this, English assumed he was safe — so he continued his attacks on Poe.

On September 5, 1846, the Weekly Mirror included the seventh installment of English's serialized novel 1844, or, The Power of the "S. F." This seventh installment introduced a character named Marmaduke Hammerhead, a man described as:

a very well known writer... who aspires to be a critic, but never presumes himself a gentleman. He is the author of a poem, called 'The Black Crow,' now making some stir, in the literary circles... He never gets drunk more than five days out of the seven; tells the truth sometimes by mistake; has moral courage sufficient to flog his wife, when he thinks she deserves it.

In other words, as a trial inspired by English's libelous actions against Poe was about to begin, English continued libeling Poe. Most notably in this excerpt is the accusation that Poe was a wife-beater (at this time, Virginia Poe was an invalid in the last few months of her life).

The Mirror continued as well, apparently unconcerned about the libel suit and even made light of it. A filler published on September 10 included an epigram:

P— money wants to "buy a bed," —
His case is surely trying;
It must be hard to want a bed,
For one so used to lying.

Vindication for Poe would not come for a long time. The trial was delayed until February 1, 1847 (the day that Virginia Poe's obituary was published). Finally, on February 17, the Superior Court returned a verdict in Poe's favor, awarding him $225 in damages and additional court fees. These results were a bit controversial, with various newspapers taking one side or another. Hiram Fuller later published a defense in his own newspaper. But, what about Poe?

To him, it was more important for him to know that he was right, not to broadcast it to others. He left no public response to his victory nor to his shame caused by English and Fuller.

Or did he? Perhaps he left his last jest with no intention of ever taking credit for it. After all, true vindication for Poe was not merely to punish, but to punish with impunity, as he relates in a short story published a couple months after Marmaduke Hammerhead is introduced in English's novel 1844. That last example, readers might note, features a man taking revenge for unspecified insults. At the end of the tale, the narrator admits (boasts?) his revenge has not been discovered for 50 years.

Rosalie Mackenzie Poe

Poe's younger sister was christened "Rosalie Mackenzie Poe" in Richmond on September 3, 1812. I've discussed Poe's older brother here before, but this is the first (and, likely, the only) post on his sister.

Rosalie is a bit of an enigma; even her birth is unknown (believed to be about December 20, 1810). Rumors persist that she was mentally deficient in some way, though it's unclear if these reports are just another attempt at slandering Poe.* Rumors also suggest that she was not the daughter of David Poe, Jr., father of Edgar and William Henry Leonard Poe, but that she was a bastard child, born after mother Eliza Poe had an affair with another man (inspiring David to abandon her).** While Eliza was on her deathbed, her children, including Rosalie, were tended to by fellow actors with the last name of Usher. After Eliza's death, the Mackenzie family of Richmond took in her youngest daughter and legally adopted her (something that the Allan family never did for Poe).

When William and Jane (Scott) Mackenzie took little Rosalie in, they already had two children (a third, the first-born, died within his first year). They eventually would have ten children in addition to the little one they adopted. Only a couple days after her christening, a woman reported to Frances Allan (Poe's foster-mother) that "Rosalie is not expected to live." Despite the pessimistic outlook, Rosalie survived that illness and, in fact, went on to outlive her brother by 25 years.

Rosalie attended a girls' school in Richmond run by Miss Jane Mackenzie, sister of adoptive father William Mackenzie. Although they grew up in the same town, it is unclear if Poe saw his sister often in his early years (though the Allan family and the Mackenzie family did correspond). In 1842, she traveled to Philadelphia to spend a week with her blood brother (he called her "Rose")e. They corresponded from then on, Poe giving her updates on his wife Virginia's health and she requesting autographs for friends. In 1843, the Mackenzies built a home they named Duncan Lodge, where Poe visited a few times in 1848 and 1849. Rosalie became either a teacher or a teacher's assistant at Miss Jane's school for about nine years. We know she played the piano; the Richmond Poe Museum still has the piano on which she played.

Rosalie was raised in relative wealth. However, after the Civil War, the family fortune was squandered by one of her brothers-by-adoption. Rosalie should have been the legal heir to Poe's published works after her brother's death. Instead, somehow his works were given to Rufus Griswold, either by mistake, by trickery, or by Maria Clemm (Poe's mother-in-law). Rosalie made some attempts, under the advice of a lawyer named J. R. Thompson, to claim those rights. The result was a bit of a family quarrel between Rosalie and Maria Poe (who was also her father's sister). Griswold seems to have also stepped in to push Rosalie aside.

Instead, Rosalie became a desperate beggar, occasionally supported by fans of her brother's work. She survived as best she could by selling portraits of her brother the famous author. In her 60s, she was admitted to a shelter in Washington, D.C. There, she died on July 21, 1874. She had expressed a hope to be buried by her brother. Instead, she was buried at Rock Creek Cemetery in a pauper's grave owned by the home.

* Some state these rumors as fact. Jeffrey Meyers reports she was "a dull, tedious, pathetic figure, [who] failed to develop mentally after the age of twelve" and that Poe was "repelled" by her. Earlier, biographer Joseph Wood Krutch called her a "harmless imbecile."

** One such accusation came from John Allan, Poe's less-than-ideal foster-father (perhaps ironic, considering Allan had his own bastard children). It doesn't seem impossible. Either way, Poe biographer William Bitter blames Allan's rumor-mongering for Rosalie never getting married.

A Poe romance

September 1, 1827 saw the third and final installment of Merlin, a play in verse by Maryland writer Lambert A. Wilmer. Published in the North American, the three-act play followed a heroine named Elmira and her despondent pursuer Alphonse. The drama was based on the true story of a young Edgar Poe — the first in what would be a long series of fictionalized stories about Poe over several decades.*

As a young man, Poe pursued a neighboring Richmond woman named Sarah Elmira Royster. The relationship seemed strong enough and the couple apparently made some kind of agreement to get married. Poe then left Richmond to attend the University of Virginia and, somehow, the relationship ended. Poe wrote her often, imploring for a response. Miserable at college, quickly running out of money (due to insufficient support from his guardian John Allan) and, now, nursing a broken heart, the seventeen-year old Poe eventually gave up on his studies and never graduated. Royster, he assumed, had forgotten him, perhaps fallen in love with another man.

As it turns out, the villain of this real-life story was none other than Royster's father, who carefully intercepted each of Poe's letters before his daughter saw them. After months of hearing nothing from her husband-to-be, she gave up on him. By the time Poe returned home from his unsuccessful stint at the University, Poe realized Royster was no longer available. One story says that Poe went to see her at her family home and was surprised to find a party being hosted there — it turned out to be Royster's engagement party.

Whether that story is true or not, Poe and Royster lost their opportunity to live happily ever after — for now. The star-crossed lovers whose relationship inspired a play would rekindle their relationship many years later, when both were widows. That story will be told later this month.

* Though modern works like Matthew Pearl's The Poe Shadow or Louis Bayard's The Pale Blue Eye come to mind first and foremost, this post shows that neither author was doing anything particularly new or innovative. Literally scores of works based on Poe have been produced over the years, including short stories, novels, video games, and films.