I was not his friend, nor he mine

Rufus Wilmot Griswold was the first major figure to express Poe's personality after the author's death in 1849. He took great liberties, embellishing Poe's bad habits or character flaws and even making a few up. It is not entirely clear what inspired Griswold, nicknamed "the Grand Turk," in what is now labeled a "character assassination." Conjecture says that his jealousy for the attention of Fanny Osgood had something to do with it; perhaps a rivalry began when the editorship of Graham's Magazine changed hands; Griswold may have never forgiven Poe for his lukewarm review of The Poets and Poetry of America; or, Griswold was still angry that Poe mocked him during a lecture tour. Likely all of those ideas are at least partially true. More importantly, however, is understanding what Griswold wrote on December 17, 1849 — two months after Poe's death.

Poe was not without his defenders, after all. One of the loudest voices on his behalf was Sarah Helen Whitman, the woman who almost became Poe's second wife. She was suspicious that Griswold was the author of the so-called "Ludwig article," the obituary which announced Poe's death in a less-than-sympathetic manner. Whitman herself had been quoted in the work of Rufus Griswold, allegedly for calling Poe "intemperate and dissolute." Responding to the claim, Whitman wrote that, regardless of Griswold's interpretation of Poe, he had never been that way in her experience. Griswold casually side-stepped the accusation that he was a liar, writing back in a letter dated December 17, 1849, simply that "I was not his friend, nor he mine."

That lack of friendship might be just enough for Griswold not to care much about the damage he was doing to Poe's posthumous reputation.

That same day, a poet named John Greenleaf Whittier turned 42 years old. Perpetually nicknamed "the Quaker Poet," Whittier was well-represented in Griswold's poetry anthology. Whittier, in fact, was likely one of the New England writers that Poe thought was over-represented in Griswold's book. Likely, Poe also disapproved of Whittier's poetry which, at the time, was almost exclusively abolitionist in nature.

The two poets rarely crossed paths and, ultimately, they would likely have admitted that they were not friends. Nevertheless, Whittier (who generally avoided the literary battles of the day) was one of Poe's targets in his "Chapter on Autography." Poe wrote he "is placed by his particular admirers in the very front rank of American poets. We are not disposed, however, to agree with their decision in every respect." Though Poe admitted Whittier was "a fine versifier" he lacked imagination. Likely referring to the anti-slavery works, Poe added succinctly: "His themes are never to our liking."

Whittier never took it personally. In fact, several years later, Whittier would contribute a few words in honor of the memorial to Poe which was dedicated in 1875.

Osgood's happy refinement

On December 13, 1845, the Broadway Journal printed a review of Poems, a collection of poetry by Frances Sargent Osgood. Poe praises her work for its "happy refinement" and noted that its author "gives a charm inexpressible to everything which flows from her pen." Poe's opinion of Osgood, however, may be partially tainted by their personal relationship. Earlier that year, the two had engaged in a heavy (and public) literary flirtation while Poe's wife Virginia was sick. They exchanged poems addressed to one another in Poe's own magazine, the Broadway Journal.

Interpretations of the relationship between Poe and Fanny Osgood are wide-ranging. Both were married at the time, though rumors suggest that Osgood was "estranged" from her husband, the artist Samuel Stillman Osgood. One person, noted for being a bit of a trouble maker, suggested that Osgood's third daughter, Fanny Fay, was actually the bastard child from the affair with Poe. Little Fanny Fay did not survive long and, though no evidence supports Elizabeth Ellet's claim, some modern scholars suggest that Poe's poem "Ulalume" is about his lost child.

Rufus Griswold almost certainly developed a crush on Osgood too. It seems to me that Osgood was a bit too flirtatious for her own good and some weak-willed men, like Griswold, read too much into it. Nevertheless, rivalry for the attention of Osgood may have led Griswold to build up further spite against Poe.

Ultimately, there is very little about Osgood's poetry that is memorable. A stereotypical woman poet of her era, much of her work has a damsel in distress vibe to it. Breathy, overloaded with dashes and exclamation points, most of her poems use some version of the word "sigh" at least once. One is about a faithful dog that does not leave his master's side, even as he is dying. Not very profound stuff.

The reality seems to be that the poetry exchanged by Osgood and Poe was platonic, not hot and heavy as some suggest (apparently without reading the interchanges). One, for example, was published in the same issue as Poe's review of Osgood's poetry. It is addressed to Poe and poetically notes how she takes a risk in writing her poetry, launches it like a ship, and tries to find a sympathetic "friend." Poe, the "you" of the poem, should be the pilot of the ship, she says. So, Poe is steering her poetry (like the editor he was), as she tries to find a friend. Not much scandal there, really.

Nevertheless, some even go so far as to say that the strange romance (which it was not) led to the creation of one of the greatest American masterpieces ever written. If you'll excuse me, there is no evidence whatsoever to support this conclusion. None. And the base generalizations in the article, the assumptions one must make for this theory to be plausible, have no basis either (Fanny Osgood as one of the most written about poets? Give me an example. Then explain to me how the infamously-reclusive, anti-women-writers Hawthorne even knew Osgood, let alone was interested in her enough to turn her into Hester Prynne).

In not the most gentle manner

Poe began a lecture tour on November 21, 1843 in Philadelphia. The broad topic was "The Poetry of America." This was an era of oratory and many writers knew that lectures and public readings would greatly boost their income. Other writers turned lecturers included James Russell Lowell, Oliver Wendell Holmes, and, of course, Ralph Waldo Emerson, who was so successful as a lecturer it qualifies as his full-time job.

The purpose of this particular lecture was for Poe to discuss the state of American poetry and his literary theories. However, he couldn't resist wielding his tomahawk as a critic. He focused on the poor taste of his critical rival Rufus Wilmot Griswold, whose book The Poets and Poetry of America was published a year earlier and was clearly referenced in the lecture title. One periodical later noted "this book and its author were handled by the critical Lecturer in not the most gentle manner" (what a great euphemism!).

This could be yet another minor reason why the two men would build a major rivalry/enmity for one another. It was shortly after this, in January 1844, that Griswold wrote to Poe about "some cause of personal quarrel with you, which you will easily remember."

One review later remarked that the lecture "placed all the pseudo-critics, the Rev. Mr. Rufus Griswold, Esq. among others, to the blush."

Poe's lecture in Philadelphia was very successful. The Saturday Museum noted it had "quite a large, and certainly highly intelligent audience." According to the United States Gazette, "hundreds" were turned away, "unable to gain admission." The Saturday Courier noted that "it was a very learned critique, marked by the severity of illustration for which the author is so ably known."

Over about four months, Poe also lectured on the same topic in Reading, Pennsylvania and Baltimore, as well as Wilmington and Newark, Delaware. He begins another lecture tour on a similar topic in 1845, culminating in his strange appearance at the Boston Lyceum.

Birth of William Cullen Bryant

Born on November 3, 1794, William Cullen Bryant became one of the most well-known poets of his generation. His earliest poems, including "Thanatopsis" and "To a Waterfowl" remain his most enduring works. Like Poe, Bryant took full-time jobs with the press to make ends meet. His longest run was with the Saturday Evening Post; his affiliation with that publication lasted 50 years.

Poe first reviewed Bryant's work for the Southern Literary Messenger in 1837. Shortly after, Poe attended the Booksellers Dinner in New York's City Hotel. The guest list that day included not only Bryant but also Charles Fenno Hoffman, Washington Irving, Fitz-Greene Halleck, James Kirke Paulding, George Pope Morris, and Lewis Gaylord Clark. Poe proposed a toast to "The Monthlies of Gotham" and their editors.

Years later, in 1841, Bryant was one of the many "heavy-hitters" that Poe solicited for contributions upon taking the editorial reins at Graham's Magazine. A year later, Bryant was one of the top five poets Rufus Griswold used in his frontispiece to better sell The Poets and Poetry of America (in his review, Poe noted that Bryant deserved more attention and representation in the book itself). Bryant's son-in-law Parke Godwin later recalled that Bryant and Poe met face to face in 1845 and "Poe approached him as some Grecian youth might be imagined to approach an image of Plato — with a look and attitude full of the profoundest reverence." This account is almost certainly exaggerated, considering Poe had already corresponded with Bryant — not to mention they probably already met at the Booksellers Dinner eight years earlier.

Poe admitted that Bryant was one of America's most important writers, but noted that his popularity was due to his narrow, "safe" topics which were designed to be accessible to a broad audience. "It will never do to claim for Bryant a genius of the loftiest order," Poe wrote. Referring to Bryant's poem "June," Poe notes "the rhythmical flow, here, is even voluptuous — nothing could be more melodious... The impression left is one of a pleasurable sadness."

As a side note, Bryant was also an active proponent of copyright protection for authors and even founded the Copyright Club.

Happy birthday, William Cullen Bryant.

Defense of Poe

Friends of Poe came to Poe's defense almost immediately after Rufus Griswold began maligning the dead author's character. Even before his full-length memoir of Poe in 1850, Griswold was being criticized for his short obituary of Poe in October 1849.

One of the first to respond was George Lippard, a novelist who had gained attention with his The Quaker City, Or, the Monks of Monk-Hall in 1845. On October 20, 1849, Lippard offered his own obituary to Poe:

Edgar Allan Poe died, in the city of Baltimore, on Sunday, nearly two weeks ago. He is dead and we are conscious that words are fruitless to express our feelings in relation to his death. Only a few weeks ago we took him by the hand in our office... Poe spent a day with us. We talked of the time we had first met, in his quiet home on Seventh Street, Philadelphia, when it was made happy by the presence of his wife -- a pure and beautiful woman. He talked also of his last book "Eureka," well termed a "Prose Poem," and spoke much of projects for the future.

Lippard makes a clear reference to Griswold and others:

We frankly confess that, on this occasion, we cannot imitate a number of editors who have taken upon themselves to speak of Poe, and his faults in a tone of condescending pity! That Poe had faults we do not deny. He was a harsh, a bitter and sometimes an unjust critic. But he was a man of genius -- a man of high honor -- a man of good heart... As an author his name will live, while three-fourths of the bastard critics and mongrel authors of the present day go down to nothingness and night. And the men who now spit upon his grave, by way of retaliation for some injury which they imagined they have received from Poe living, would do well to remember, that it is only an idiot or a coward who strikes the cold forehead of a corpse.

It's hard to dispute Lippard's final assessment, that anyone who attacks a corpse is a bit foolish (or cowardly). However, Lippard's later writings on Poe will continue to add to the Poe mythos, in many cases making himself a much more important character in the life of Poe than is credible.

The same day, October 20, Nathaniel Parker Willis also published a defense of Poe, though he hardly stands as one of Poe's greatest defenders. In fact, N. P. Willis ends up working with Griswold in preparing Poe's collected works, and continues a lengthy business relationship with him ever after. If Willis was so concerned about Griswold's cruel depiction of Poe, you would think he would have broken off communication with him. However, Willis liked to play both sides and avoided making enemies wherever possible. Even as a defender of Poe, Willis was hardly a strong advocate.

In Griswold's edition of Poe's collected works, Willis notes: "Our own impression of the nature of Edgar A. Poe differs in some important degree, however, from that which has been generally conveyed in the notices of his death." So, he disputes how Poe's life has been reported — immediately after those lines, he republished Griswold's scandalous obituary in its entirety, introducing it as "a graphic and highly finished portraiture." He then casually notes how he is avoiding comment on Griswold's negative description: "Apropos of the disparaging portion of the above well-written sketch..." he writes, before giving his personal account of his relationship with Poe.

Clearly, the battle over Poe's reputation after the writer's death is confusing. Lippard deserves the title of one of his staunchest defenders. Nevertheless, we know we can't trust all the information he gives us. Willis, as was typical of Willis, played both sides, didn't fight very hard, and dared to work closely with Poe's greatest enemy. Further fuel to the mystery of Poe?

Death of Poe: The Mystery Begins

On October 7, 1849, after several days at the hospital, Edgar Allan Poe died. His death is still a mystery, and speculation has raged ever since. In honor of the mystery, I am pleased to introduce mystery novelist Matthew Pearl (author of The Dante Club, The Poe Shadow, and The Last Dickens) , who has written today's guest blog (part one of two).

The Real Investigators of Poe's death
Part I: Neilson Poe
by Matthew Pearl

In writing my novel The Poe Shadow I wanted to imagine someone investigating Poe's death, not a hundred years later, but just after it happened, and to use that as a springboard for a fresh perspective. In my novel, the protagonist, a fictional lawyer named Quentin, recruits a world renown detective to help.

Unfortunately, no Dupin-like detective was on the case in October 1849. In fact, there was no mystery ascribed to the death for years after it happened.

Some still believe there is not much mystery.

There are at least two figures* I have identified as actually investigating Poe's death soon after it happened. (Please note that this post is about the early investigators, not about the complex facts and theories surrounding the death.)

The first investigator is Neilson Poe of Baltimore, a cousin of Edgar's well known to Poe biographers. Neilson was on the case almost right away, and wrote a letter to Poe's aunt and mother-in-law, Maria “Muddy” Clemm, dated October 11, 1849 (Poe had died on the 7th). It is from this letter we receive many of the most reliable and immediate facts about Poe's hospital stay and funeral. (See images from this letter here.)

Here is a key sentence: “At what time he arrived in this City, where he spent the time he was here, or under what circumstances, I have been unable to ascertain.” The latter phrase indicates Neilson was making active inquiries, though not yet satisfied with what he found.

By November 1, he writes to Poe literary executor Rufus Griswold: “The history of the last few days of his life is known to no one so well as to myself, and is of touching & melancholy interest, as well of the most admonitory import. I think I can demonstrate that he passed, by a single indulgence, from a condition of perfect sobriety to one touching upon the madness usually occasioned only by long continued intoxication, and that he is entitled to a far more favorable judgment upon his last hours than he was received – All this I will make the subject of a deliberate communication.”

We may assume that in the roughly three weeks between October 11 and November 1 Neilson had done more investigation. The promise of “a deliberate communication” is tantalizing, but never materialized. As late as 1874, Neilson's friend N. H. Morison writes this in a letter: “The story of Edgar Poe’s death has never been told. Nelson [sic] Poe has all the facts, but I am afraid may not be willing to tell them. I do not see why. The actual facts are less discreditable than the common reports published. Poe came to the city in the midst of an election, and that election was the cause of his death.”

While writing my novel, I came across an archival letter in which a Baltimore resident named George B. Coale documents a conversation with Neilson in 1871 about Poe's death.** This is the only known account following up on Neilson's promise to Griswold in 1849. Coale's letter can be interpreted in different ways, though it seems to me to be dismissive of the cooping theory, oddly alluded to by Morison as if it were Neilson's.

One question worth asking: Why did Neilson choose to keep his information to himself, after seeming ready to share it?

*Several obituary writers also seemed to have done some original investigating but those who did, like the New York Herald's Baltimore correspondent, remain unidentified.

**I reprint Coale's letter with my analysis of it in the second of a two part essay in the Edgar Allan Poe Review here. The first part is here.

Edgar Allan Poe is dead

Edgar Allan Poe is dead. He died in Baltimore the day before yesterday.
This announcement will startle many, but few will be grieved by it. The poet was
well known personally or by reputation, in all this country. He had readers in
England and in several states of Continental Europe. But he had few or no
friends. The regrets for his death will be suggested principally by the
consideration that in him literary art lost one of its most brilliant, but
erratic stars.

Thus began the most famous literary obituary in American history. Those words, written by the Reverend Rufus Wilmot Griswold, were published on October 9, 1849, in the New York Tribune. Griswold's description of Poe as "erratic" with "few or no friends" who would not be grieved was coupled with some praise for his works, including "The Raven." Griswold noted, "As a writer of tales it will be admitted generally, that he was scarcely surpassed in ingenuity of construction or effective painting." Nevertheless, he added quickly, "As a critic, he was more remarkable as a dissector of sentences than as a commenter upon ideas. He was little better than a carping grammarian."

Originally signed "Ludwig," a portion of the obituary was plagiarized from The Caxtons by Edward Bulwer-Lyton, particularly Poe's characterization. People must not have picked up on the literary reference and the obituary was soon republished again and again. When confronted with the poor characterization by Sarah Helen Whitman, Griswold wrote, "I was not his friend, nor was he mine."

Much of this obituary, which took up an entire column on the front page of that issue, is fair, but interspersed with enough vitriol that readers should have been suspicious of its author's bias. Griswold went on to claim that he was Poe's literary executor — whether true or not — and continued to malign Poe's character while reaping financial benefit from publishing Poe's collected works. Though he promised profits would be distributed to Poe's surviving aunt Maria Clemm, that never happened.

Poe, already buried, was not able to defend himself. Instead, people like Nathaniel Parker Willis, Sarah Helen Whitman, George Rex Graham, and Thomas Holley Chivers. Even a pair of known enemies of Poe jumped to his posthumous defense: Charles Frederick Briggs and Thomas Dunn English (who particularly disputed that Poe was a drug user). But Griswold continued his assault, presenting Poe as a perpetual drunk with little literary talent, an angry critical hand, easy to anger, and with few friends. He relegated Poe's comedic works to a less important role and forced the horror tales to the forefront. He even made Poe's three-part name the new standard reference to the man.

Asking why Griswold did this is complicated and there is no satisfactory answer. Instead, of asking why, we should ask, how was he capable of doing this? The fact is Griswold was a major influence, and the strength of his influence is rarely acknowledged these days. Additionally, readers wanted to (and, let's be honest, readers still want to) believe that Poe was an awful person. A figure who is depressed, suicidal, a loner, an alcoholic, one who wanders the streets muttering at imagined phantoms — this is the Poe that we want.

Think of "The Tell-Tale Heart" being written by a normal person and it's less interesting. Think of the same for "The Black Cat," "The Pit and the Pendulum," and "The Cask of Amontillado." It has become impossible for Poeists like me to convince the world that Poe was a normal guy with normal problems. They want him to be fantastic, larger than life, a piece of mythology rather than a real human being. It's what sells his books today and it's what sold Griswold's collected works of Poe in 1850.

Should we give credit to Griswold for making sure he came to the forefront of antebellum American writing? Maybe. But he was just trying to sell a few books. Oh, in this obituary, Griswold also gave us the first published version of "Annabel Lee."

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 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.

Poe stays sober

Perhaps the biggest event in Poe's life which inspired this blog, what occurred on August 27, 1849 continues to surprise casual readers of Poe who thought they already knew all about the man...

On August 27, 1849, Edgar A. Poe pledged to abstain from alcohol and stay sober indefinitely. It was a Monday evening when he was initiated into the Shockoe Hill Division (no. 54) of the Sons of Temperance, sworn in by William J. Glenn. Speculation has raged as far as how serious Poe was about this pledge. He had to have been somewhat committed to the idea, if only because membership required a fee. He may have done it to impress a potential second wife he was courting in Richmond (more on her another time) or, as biographer Kenneth Silverman speculates, "the effects of his drinking... had frightened him." A few days earlier, after one of his (rare but excessive) binges, a doctor suggested that drinking would kill him.

The reality is that throughout his life, Poe was aware of the problems that alcohol caused him, and he often made an effort to avoid drinking. Extant letters show updates Poe gave to friends and family about his efforts. But, even if we can't trust Poe's first-hand claims, other accounts do exist. For example, one friend reported that Poe went a full eighteen months* without a single drop of alcohol while living and working in Philadelphia. This undisputed account lends serious evidence against the prevalent image of Poe as a perpetual drunk. His joining the Sons of Temperance in 1849 may have been a final declaration that he would win his battle against alcoholism.

What really would have helped Poe stick to being sober this time? I'd speculate that Poe hoped the special nature of his pledge would make a difference: His membership was very public and, within three weeks, several newspapers were reporting about it in Richmond, Raleigh, Philadelphia, and Boston. Temperance advocates considered Poe's membership a great victory and a boon to their cause as they hoped he would lend his pen to the movement. One wrote, "We trust his pen will sometimes be employed in its behalf. A vast amount of good might be accomplished by so pungent and forcible a writer." Poe, in fact, had already written two temperance tales, of a sort: "The Black Cat" and the humorous "The Angel of the Odd." Writing was important to the group as a form of propoganda to get the word out about their movement; the Sons of Temperance would soon even create their own literary journal (edited by T. S. Arthur, author of Ten Nights in a Bar-Room).

The fact that Poe vowed to stay sober has led to further confusion over his final days right before his mysterious death — which will occur less than two months after taking his temperance pledge.

Perhaps ironically, August 27 is also the anniversary of the death of one of the many responsible for exaggerating Poe's drinking habits. Rufus Wilmot Griswold died this day in 1857 at the age of 42.

* There does not seem to be any question over the veracity of this statement. Give Poe credit for what he was doing: Poe kept his alcoholism in check before it was considered a disease, before self-help books, before AA meetings, etc. By the way, the image above is from a great online exhibit by the Library Company of Philadelphia called "Ardent Spirits."

Poe sues for libel

Editor Hiram Fuller and his associates at the Evening Mirror had a bit of back and forth on Poe, accusing him of being "a poor creature... in a condition of sad, wretched imbecility" (July 20, 1846) as well as having a "habit of misrepresentation... and malignity is so much a part of his nature, that he continually goes out of his way to do ill-natured things" (July 23, 1846). Finally, Poe had enough. On July 23, 1846, he filed a lawsuit at the Superior Court of the City of New York against Hiram Fuller and his assistant Augustus W. Clason, Jr.

The Evening Mirror's continuous, unwarranted focus on Poe was one thing, but what likely really set him off was a writer named Thomas Dunn English. A provocateur all his own, English was known for satire and for getting on the wrong side of literary figures. He had a duel with Henry B. Hirst in Philadelphia and was kicked out of the office of John S. Du Solle of the Spirit of the Times, for just a couple examples.

Poe himself, of course, was not without fault. In a series of essays called The Literati of New York City (trashy celebrity gossip pieces, really, though more indicative of the period than of Poe personally) Poe referred to English as "a man without the commonest school education busying himself in attempts to instruct mankind in topics of literature" (certainly inappropriate, considering English had both a law degree and a medical degree). English responded with a vitriolic letter that he put into the hands of many, many publishers and editors.

English particularly latched onto the line that Poe's narrative persona wrote in The Literati of New York City: "I do not personally know Mr. English."

Of course the two knew one another. As English wrote in his reply, Poe tricked him into loaning him $30 to help the Broadway Journal in 1845. English also apparently gave Poe legal advice and set him up with a lawyer in June 1845 to defend charges of forgery (unsubstantiated). Most interestingly, English must have been surprised that Poe did not remember the fistfight the two fell into, thanks to the meddlesome Elizabeth F. Ellet. During that scuffle, English punched Poe directly in the face while wearing a large pinky ring. What appear to be bags under his eyes in Poe's later portraits is, in fact, the remnants of the scar. English concludes his letter with the characterization of Poe as a drunk who is "thoroughly unprincipled, base and depraved... not alone an assassin in morals, but a quack in literature."

The Mirror printed the reply, along with an introduction by Hiram Fuller himself in which he acknowledges its "severity" with "a twinge of pity." Other editors refer to English's reply as "most caustic and fearful," another notes it as "one of the most savage and bitter things we ever read," and one refers to English's "literary meat-axe" (in lieu of a tomahawk, perhaps?). Even Rufus Griswold, Poe's greatest enemy, noted English's attacks were in poor taste. Another publication expected Poe would "muster his intellectual forces, and give his adversary another battle."

Poe's response was relatively light, but his letter (published in a number of periodicals) does hint at legal action. He particularly blames Hiram Fuller for publishing it, noting he has "prostituted his filthy sheet to the circulation of this calumny." Fuller responds, "Let him institute a suit, if he dare." English responded as well, daring Poe take up a lawsuit.

He did. Poe hired Enoch L. Fancher as his counselor and, with his suggestion, sued the Mirror rather than go after English directly. Poe asked to be awarded damages of $5000 for two libelous remarks: that he obtained money under false pretenses and that he committed forgery. The suit was filed on July 23. The next day, the Mirror suddenly notes that "we do not hold ourselves responsible for Mr. English's charges against Mr. Poe," claiming English's letter was a paid advertisement (not true!). "But," Fuller writes, "if the latter gentleman chooses to take the matter into Court, we shall not shrink from the trial."

This post is long enough, I think. The results of Poe's libel suit, and English's continued provocations, will likely be continued at a later date.

Poe, puffs, and North Carolina

Poe's first job as a critic was in August 1835 when he was hired by the Southern Literary Messenger. Poe brought to the SLM a new style of criticism which distinctly broke away from the "puffs" that plagued American periodicals. In those days, critics were bribed or paid off to provide positive reviews by publishers or authors — or, in some cases, the system of puffing was so ingrained, no pay-off was needed. Poe, on the other hand, provided sincere reviews, whether laudatory or critical. Although, certainly, there are cases where Poe's personal bias influenced his judgment, he was going against the grain in providing a new type of literary criticism. He was a trailblazer, in some sense, and some have credited him as "the father of modern literary criticism."

Of course, one does not blaze a trail without making a few enemies.

On July 15, 1836 (surprisingly early in Poe's critical career), the Newbern Spectator, a periodical out of New Bern, North Carolina, suggested it was time for Poe to resign. His reviews were too caustic, too critical, too different. As the article said, "We think that Mr. Poe will soon see the necessity of resigning his chair, or of conforming to the rules of modern criticism. The Proprietor should look to this."

The irony here is clear, of course. Consider the climate, the "rules of modern criticism" to which Poe was being asked to conform: critic Rufus Griswold at one point wrote to publisher James T. Fields that he puffs books regardless of quality; he later received direct instructions from a minor publisher named T. B. Peterson for the positive review he expected (along with a request to destroy the letter once read); so many critics are patting authors on the backs that the term "mutual admiration society" is thrown around regularly by people like Margaret Fuller, Edwin Percy Whipple, and Oliver Wendell Holmes (the phrase is so prevalent, in fact, I'm having difficulty determining who said it first).

Poe, however, was not without supporters. Later that same July, the editor of the New York Weekly Magazine would respond positively to the Southern Literary Messenger. Others would continue to back Poe and even emulate his style throughout Poe's lifetime and beyond.

But, back to the Newbern Spectator. Poe acknowledged their comments and the Spectator responded, mentioning "the debt of gratitude which we owe its profound editor... having taken 'notice' of us in a manner so gentlemanlike and dignified, and so creditable to his own temper and erudition." Not to say, however, that they became supporters of Poe. Acknowledging the prevalence of "puffs," they question what Poe is doing. "It cannot permit a single voice to be raised against... errors without descending to scurrility and invective; thus showing conclusively the unfitness of its conductor for the task he has undertaken."

To each their own, I suppose. Personally, I wonder why a North Carolina publication has any interest at all in a Virginia newspaper.

The scandalous Elizabeth F. Ellet

Elizabeth F. Ellet is the female equivalent of Rufus W. Griswold: jealous, petty, cruel, and an instigator who lashed out against others without reason. For example, she threw herself into the strange "affair" between Frances Sargent Osgood and Poe, for whom she had a romantic interest. After tricking Mrs. Virginia Poe into showing her some of Mrs. Osgood's letters, she suggested to Mrs. Osgood that their contents would lead to shameful scandal. Though today, most accounts suggest that the flirtation between Osgood and Poe was purely innocent, she was convinced to have Poe destroy the letters. A minor controversy ensued which involved Margaret Fuller, Anne Lynch, and Ellet's pistol-wielding brother (which eventually also pulled in Thomas Dunn English — but that story will be told here later this summer). Mr. Samuel Osgood accused Ellet of scandal-mongering, but she placed the blame squarely on Mr. and Mrs. Poe. Virginia died in 1847 and at least one friend suggested Ellet's forced scandal exacerbated her illness such that it could be claimed "Mrs. E. had been her murderer." Griswold, of course, was involved as well — he also had a crush on Osgood; she even dedicated a book to him.

But, if you think that controversy was confusing, nothing compares to what Ellet did to Rufus Griswold.

Griswold was not a nice man, certainly, but there are a few incidents that beg sympathy. In 1852, he broke off a loveless marriage with his second wife, Charlotte Myers (their relationship is still confusing) so that he could marry a woman named Harriet McCrillis. Ellet stepped in and urged Myers (a complete stranger) not to grant the divorce and for McCrillis (a complete stranger) not to marry Griswold. Nevertheless, the divorce was made official and Griswold married McCrillis. Ellet did not quit.

She continued writing to Myers, urging her to seek a repeal of the divorce. Myers gave in and the matter was to be brought before the Philadelphia Court of Common Pleas. While awaiting the court date, Griswold's house caught fire, leaving him brutally disfigured; he lost his eyebrows, eyelashes, and seven of his fingernails to the fire. In 1856, the Court date arrived and neither Myers nor Griswold bothered to show up — but Mrs. Ellet did, serving as a character witness against Griswold. The divorce was not repealed, but Griswold's third wife Harriet McCrillis left him amidst the public scandal over the possible bigamy — she never saw her husband again before his death from tuberculosis in 1857. Shortly before his death, Griswold published a pamphlet to publicly address the scandal, Statement of the Relations of Rufus W. Griswold with Charlotte Myers (called Charlotte Griswold) [and] Elizabeth F. Ellet... With Particular Reference to Their Late Unsuccessful Attempt to Have Set Aside the Decree Granted in the Case of Griswold vs. Griswold. One friend suggested that Ellet had "goaded Griswold to his death."

Frankly, there was no apparent reason why Ellet got involved in Griswold's romantic life. She did not seem to exhibit any romantic feelings towards him (her messages to Poe were more than clear, if not sultry). Griswold had always treated her well in his criticism and even helped her publish her popular book The Women of the American Revolution (1845). Ellet deserves no more complicated a description than "a bad person."

Nevertheless, rest in peace, Elizabeth. She died this day, June 3, in 1877. Today she is buried in Green-Wood Cemetery in Brooklyn — the same cemetery where lies Rufus Griswold.

Poe and Sarah Hale

On May 30, 1844, the influential "editress" (as she called herself) Sarah Josepha Hale wrote to Edgar A. Poe. Poe had submitted a tale to Nathaniel Parker Willis in the hopes of it getting published in The New Mirror. Instead, Willis thought it better placed in an annual called The Opal; though he had edited its first issue (perhaps ironically, this annual gift-book was originally founded by none other than Rufus Wilmot Griswold), he no longer held that role. The new editor was Sarah Josepha Hale, better known as the long-time editor of Godey's Lady's Book for forty years, but best known (unfortunately) as the author of "Mary Had a Little Lamb."

Willis had accepted Poe's submission before turning it over to Hale. Poe was now unsure if his tale would be published at all and wrote directly to Hale to secure its appearance in The Opal. As he wrote, Poe wanted Hale "be so kind as to take it, unseen, upon Mr. Willis' testimony in its favor." Hale's response is apparently lost, but likely written on May 30, 1844. Poe refers to this now-missing letter as a "kind and very satisfactory one." He agrees to the pathetic payment of 50 cents per page (compare to Graham's Magazine's $4 or $5 per page).

It was not published in The Opal, as Willis anticipated. Instead, "The Oblong Box" was published in the September issue of Godey's. The story is an odd mesh of horror, mystery, and sea adventure, unlike any other Poe tale. Highly recommended!

More important here is the interaction between Poe and Hale, a woman who some (including me!) consider among the most powerful and influential women of her generation. Her first awareness of Poe was through her son, David Emerson Hale, who was a classmate of Poe's at West Point. When David mentioned to his mother that there was a poet among them, Mrs. Hale inquired about him. Under Hale, Poe published one poem and six stories (including "The Cask of Amontillado") in Godey's Lady's Book — something which Poe could not have been too happy with. Though it was the highest-circulating magazine of its day, it was trashy and sentimental, with more colored fashion-plates than worthwhile content.

"Insufferable trash... one of the most delightful books"

On May 17, 1845, The Town, a New York weekly, poked fun at Edgar A. Poe, who was in town working at the Broadway Journal. It featured a mock review, found "Astray from the office of the Broadway Journal" of the (fictitious) book The Adventures, Life and Opinions of John Smith. The Poe-like reviewer notes the work "a mass of insufferable trash, without one redeeming quality." Nevertheless, it is "one of the most delightful books... printed in a beautiful arabesque style by Wiley & Putnam."

The hilarious little stab at Poe was noting how his reviews always seem to fall in both positive and negative categories: even as he praises a writer, he still damns them. It is, of course, quite a true observation, and it's one of the many details I point out to folks who think Poe simply "hated" or "loved" certain other writers. The reality is, he always found ways to both praise and criticize nearly everyone. Such is the case with Rufus Griswold's The Poets and Poetry of America in 1842, which many categorize as a negative review outright — in fact, Poe loved the anthology and thought it a major turning point in American poetry, though he noted a few errors in judgment on the part of its editor. The same is also true for Poe's reviews of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, which people seem to take for granted as "Poe hated Longfellow." Again, it's much more complicated.

But, before you think that Poe was being hypocritical or noncommittal, keep in mind the context here. The world of American literary criticism was slow to develop and, in a sense, Poe was moving against the grain. Writers like Margaret Fuller noted "the mutual admiration society" — a climate where reviewers praised to the point of absurdity, without any mark of sincerity. Such reviews, many felt, were detrimental to the advancement of American letters. At a time when Europeans were asking "Who reads an American book?", people like Poe (and Fuller) were trying to encourage writers to work harder and not just idly assume that their writing was good enough (clearly, it wasn't!).

I haven't found much information about The Town, but the Poe Log refers to it as a weekly magazine devoted to satirizing the New York literati. It's first mention of Poe seems to be in February 1845, when it notes Poe's plans to start a new magazine (presumably The Stylus, which was a dream never to come true). The writer noted Poe was "the most interesting and original of Magazine writers, and a fearless critic." When Poe became affiliated with the Evening Mirror that same month, The Town reported that they "rejoice at the fact" — especially because his style of criticism would relieve "much of the Miss Nancyism of [N. P.] Willis" and add "a more manly vigor" to the reviews. They nevertheless note their disagreement with Poe's review of Edward Bulwer-Lytton. Poe had denied the poet's genius, suggesting he was instead merely a clever fellow. The Town suggested Poe "ought to hurry express haste to Washington and get out a patent right for his Discovery." The point is: Poe's negativity looked strange to people who were used to "puffing" (Griswold, by the way, once noted to James Thomas Fields that he "puffed," or gave empty praise to, all the books Fields published, regardless of quality).

By the way, the satire of Poe's criticism happens to use the name "John Smith" in the title of their fictitious book. "John Smith" is also a character in Poe's 1849 comedy story "X-ing a Paragrab" who eventually takes revenge on his newfound rival publisher.

Death of "Fanny" Osgood

On May 12, 1850, poet Frances Sargent Osgood died after a struggle with tuberculosis. She was 38 years old.

In the 1840s, she became estranged from her painter husband, Samuel Stillman Osgood, who was tempted enough by one of several discoveries of gold in California that he left his wife and children to find some. During their estrangement, "Fanny" Osgood (as she was known) carried on a very public flirtation with Edgar A. Poe — whose wife Virginia was very much still alive. In 1845, even while Virginia was writing Poe a Valentine, her husband was writing one to Osgood.

Biographers continue to debate the sort of relationship that Osgood and Poe shared, and the range is fairly wide. Some say their flirtation was purely platonic, an innocent game of poetry. Others suggest the couple went so far as to have a bastard child together, Fanny Fay, who died just over a year later and may have inspired Poe's poem "Ulalume" ("It was surely October / On this very night of last year / That I journeyed —I journeyed down here! — / That I brought a dread burden down here — / On this night of all nights in the year..."). That unlikely story was actually sparked by the rumor-mongering New Yorker Elizabeth F. Ellet, though it still has its believers today.

Here's an example of the "scandalous" poetry between the two.

"Impromtu. To Kate Carol" (1845)

When from your gems of thought I turn
To those pure orbs, your heart to learn,
I scarce know which to prize most high —
The bright i-dea, or the bright dear-eye.

Kate Carol was one of a handful of pseudonyms that Osgood used; another was Violet Vane (though they don't appear to be very secret). Regardless of her relationship with Poe, "Mrs. Osgood" was an accomplished poet and prose writer. Her popularity made her one of the most widely-read women writers of her day, especially as a contributor to many of the more popular magazines — including Graham's Magazine and Godey's Lady's Book. Over a century and a half after her death, however, Osgood is almost universally denounced as a trashy sentimentalist who embodied the stereotypical "safe" writing of women of her day. This critique comes especially from feminist critics, who can't help but cringe at reading some of her poetry, including "Song" ("Call me pet names, dearest! Call me a bird, / That flies to thy breast at one cherishing word, / That folds its wild wings there, ne'er dreaming of flight...").

Mrs. Osgood also carried on a simple flirtation with Poe's greatest enemy, Rufus Wilmot Griswold. Griswold was on the receiving end of a couple "romantic" poems, as well as the dedication of a volume of poetry. This minor rivalry for Osgood's (platonic?) affection may have been one more motivation behind Griswold's posthumous attacks on Poe. Either way, Osgood later did reunite with her husband the painter. Always frail, her death by tuberculosis in 1850 was not unexpected. She is today buried in Mount Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge, Massachusetts — alongside her husband and little Fanny Fay.

*The portrait above is by Samuel Stillman Osgood. He also painted one of his "competitor," Edgar A. Poe — before he grew his now-iconic mustache.

Griswold and Graham's

It's hard to tell for certain when the first edition of The Poets and Poetry of America hit book stores. It wasn't until April 18, 1842, however that the anthology's editor, Rufus Wilmot Griswold, was informed by publishers that it was finally published. As Carey & Hart (Philadelphia) wrote to Griswold (in New York): "We have at last published the 'Poets & Poetry of America' & a handsome Book it is."

The publisher must have rushed copies to important or influential literary figures on that first day. George Rex Graham in Philadelphia, the proprietor of the very popular Graham's Magazine, almost immediately jumped to take advantage of the rising star of Griswold. He wrote only a day later, April 19, 1842:

"Have you fully determined on assuming the Chaplaincy* and to abandon the editorial chair? Or could you find it in your heart to locate in Philadelphia? Let me hear from you, as I have a proposal to make. I like your book very much. We received it from Carey & Hart on yesterday, and although it will give offense to a few, it must be popular, and it will please every man of taste."

Graham had recently parted ways with his famous editor, Edgar Poe, who had miraculously increased circulation to 40,000, but resigned in late March. What really drove sales up was Poe's infamous critical review style, which was somewhat controversial. The Arcturus (edited by Cornelius Mathews and Evert Augustus Duyckinck) noted Poe's reviews as "elaborate" and "richly deserving of attention," though he was "somewhat over literal and minute, looking oftener to the letter than the spirit."Joseph Evans Snodgrass in the Saturday Visiter in Baltimore wrote that Poe was "an excellent reviewer" even though he was "at times, provokingly hypercritical." James Russell Lowell was a little less euphemistic and wrote that Poe occasionally mistook "his phial of prussic acid for his inkstand."

The "proposal" Graham wanted to offer Griswold was Poe's former role. Griswold seems to have accepted without hesitation and moved to Philadelphia to take the job with Graham's (leaving his family behind in New York). The transition was so quick, a rumor persisted (and still does in some circles) that Poe came to clean out his desk and saw Griswold already sitting there. The rumor is quite untrue. Nevertheless, Griswold was paid $1000 — $200 more per year than Poe — likely building up some of the animosity between the two.

Griswold's run on Graham's was significantly less successful than Poe's. Though he was able to bring in substantial writers (including James Fenimore Cooper and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow), he never earned much respect there. In fact, a year after he took over, George Lippard wrote, "It was Mr. Poe that made Graham's Magazine what it was a year ago; it was his intellect that gave this now weak and flimsy periodical a tone of refinement and mental vigor."

*Griswold had recently earned the title of "Reverend," though he never had a regular congregation.

Poe writes to Griswold

An otherwise uninteresting letter can be made interesting just based on the correspondents involved. Nothing gets more exciting (to me) than letters between Edgar A. Poe and Rufus Wilmot Griswold.

It was March, 1841. Poe had only recently joined the staff of Graham's Magazine. As Mr. George Graham announced, "Mr. POE is too well known in the literary world to require a word of commendation. As a critic he is surpassed by no man in the country; and as in this Magazine his critical abilities shall have free scope, the rod will be very generously, and at the same time, justly administered." But, more than just a critic, Poe also wanted to be recognized as a poet — a dream he had harbored since a teenager.

At the same time Poe was starting at Graham's, Rufus Griswold was preparing a massive anthology to be named The Poets and Poetry of America. Griswold was seeking out the most representative pieces of American poetry to trace its progression since the Revolution. He was fairly thorough, aiming for the well-known (like Charles Sprague) to the lesser-known (like the upstart Transcendental poet Jones Very). Poe knew that, if he wanted to be take seriously as a poet, his inclusion in Griswold's book was imperative.

In a letter dated March 29, 1841, Poe offered several poems to Griswold, gushingly admitting that he would be honored to see "one or two of them in the book." Griswold was generous and published three: "The Coliseum," "The Haunted Palace," and "The Sleeper." Interesting choices, and none (with the possible exception of "The Haunted Palace") are particularly well-known today. Nevertheless, keep in mind that 1841 was before "The Raven," "Ulalume," "Annabel Lee," and "The Bells." What's important is that Poe secured a place in the book, even if only three mediocre poems were included.

When the book was published in 1842, Poe had just left Graham's. Griswold took advantage of Poe's poverty — by bribing him. He gave Poe money if he did a favor and reviewed The Poets and Poetry of America. In return, Griswold assured its publication. The deal implied that Poe owed Griswold a positive review. Poe must not have understood — or, perhaps, he was of too high integrity. Poe assumed he was merely being paid for the typical critical work for which he was known... as Graham said, "the rod will be very generously, and at the same time, justly administered." And Poe did just that: a mix of praise and criticism that can be labeled neither wholly positive nor wholly negative. Poe's biggest complaint, by the way, was based on which poets were or were not included.

Griswold was livid. But, he did as he promised: he took the review and found a publisher for it. Far from his home base of Philadelphia or even the publishing center of New York, Griswold instead sent it over to Boston directly into the hands of a young publisher named James Thomas Fields. Fields had only lately joined the publishing firm of William D. Ticknor — in four years, the company would be renamed Ticknor and Fields.

But it wasn't even Fields that Griswold asked to publish Poe's review. Instead, he referred it to the house of "Bradbury & Lodey." As Griswold wrote, "I thought likely the name of Poe — gratuitously furnished — might be of some consquence, though I care not a fig about the publication of the criticism, as the author and myself not being on the best terms." Poe's review of The Poets and Poetry of America was eventually published in the low-circulation Boston Miscellany in November 1842.

Griswold likely never forgave Poe for not giving the high-praise, laudatory review he expected. He was never known as a forgiving person, after all.

Hop-Frog's last jest

On March 17, 1849 - just over six months before his death - Edgar A. Poe published the last of his horror tales in the Boston-based periodical Flag of Our Union. "Hop-Frog: Or, the Eight Chained Orangoutangs" features a short-statured jester who works for a practical joke-loving king. Hop-Frog was taken from his home and became a slave of the king's and, on his birthday, the king reminds him of the friends he will never see again. Hop-Frog finally has had enough of the king and decides to perform one last jest...

Poe's horror works stretch as far back as January 1832 when he published "Metzengerstein." So, from "Metzengerstein" to "Hop-Frog," Poe had only 17 years of horror-writing before his death. Some of his horror works aren't quite as scary as they once were and many are forgotten or overshadowed by better-known works. What's important about "Hop-Frog" is that Poe was inspired by a true event.

In the 1840s, Poe's popularity was skyrocketing. First, his reputation was built as a critic and, after 1845, he was one of the most well-known poets of his generation with the publication of "The Raven." Amidst all of this, however, he was making enemies in the literary world (some were his fault, but not always). When people published overly-critical commentary on his character or repuation, Poe retaliated - through lawsuits, of course.

Attacks on his character were particularly troubling to Poe at the end of the decade because he was actively pursuing romantic relationships; at least one relationship was cut off likely because of an assault on his character. Lawsuits, however, can only do so much. So, Poe cleverly hid his revenge in prose, including "The Cask of Amontillado" and, of course, in "Hop-Frog."

Hop-Frog the jester pulls his final, deadly prank on the king and his eight ministers, who are humiliated and burned to death in front of a shocked audience. If Hop-Frog represents Poe, his victims were really people like Thomas Dunn English (more on him another time), Anne Lynch Botta, Hiram Fuller and Margaret Fuller (no relation), among others. The king, of course, was none other than Elizabeth F. Ellet, who was infamous as a trouble-maker (another of her victims, who suffered far more than Poe, was Rufus Wilmot Griswold).

My guess is that Poe had some form of catharsis by venting his anger by creating fiction - and he likely had further enjoyment of the "hoax" by keeping his vengeance a secret.

Longfellow damns censorious Poe

America's most beloved poet for the majority of the 19th century was Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, who was born this day, February 27, back in 1807. The relationship between Longfellow and Poe — if it can be called that — has become somewhat infamous. Poe made many strong statements against Longfellow (to put it lightly), and people today consider his "war" on Longfellow an example of Poe's declining mental health, a sign of his raging jealousy of successful poets, or of his endless enmity towards all things Boston.

Those superficial interpretations are great examples of how we oversimplify parts of Poe's life.

Poe and Longfellow never met face-to-face, though they certainly corresponded. As an editor, Poe contacted him to urge him to submit to Graham's Magazine (he did, but moreso under Poe's successor Rufus Griswold). Longfellow was one of the most popular poets of the day and, shortly after Poe's death, did what Poe was never able to do: sustain himself financially solely as a poet — no small feat!

Poe's criticism began as early as 1840, after Longfellow had published his collection Voices of the Night (unlike many poets of his generation, Longfellow generally released books of brand new poetry, rather than releasing piecemeal in magazines then collecting the so-called "fugitive" poems later; he had this option because he had a full-time job as a Harvard professor and didn't need constant money from his writing like Poe did). Poe noted that one particular poem in the collection was very similar to one by Lord Tennyson. He wrote (anonymously) of it as the "most barbarous class of literary robbery; that class in which, while the words of the wronged author are avoided, his most intangible, and therefore least defensible and least reclaimable property is purloined." The so-called "Longfellow War" continued with several accusations of plagiarism throughout the 1840s, especially in the Broadway Journal while Poe was its editor. It became such a heated feud that others, including James Russell Lowell and Margaret Fuller, jumped in and took sides (the former took Longfellow's, the latter took Poe's). The oddest to join in was the pseudonymous "Outis" (translates to "nobody") — which generally is agreed to be Poe himself as an attempt at keeping the spotlight a bit longer. But, even the friendly, non-confrontational Nathaniel Parker Willis noted that Longfellow was too free from criticism and that the controversy would "do him good to rouse him."

Critics or readers who think the Longfellow War is about plagiarism are overstating things. When Poe used the term "plagiarism," it didn't mean what it does today. In fact, it was the opposite of "originality." Like that quote above makes clear, it's not a word-for-word theft, but a theft of poetic ideas.

Poe was strung up as a bad guy in all of this, and critics and scholars today refer to it as Poe's attempt to destroy his own reputation — his "imp of the perverse," if you will. Others say it shows Poe was merely jealous of success, or he was inspired by his hatred of New England and the Boston elite literary circle. Even in Poe circles, there is no consensus and it still brings up debate. Longfellow, on the other hand, universally comes out squeaky clean, and didn't actually engage in the feud personally. After Poe's death, Longfellow noted that all was forgiven and called him "richly endowed with genius." He added, famously: "The harshness of his criticisms, I have never attributed to anything but the irritation of a sensitive nature, chafed by some indefinite sense of wrong."

Longfellow never publicly responded, but he did make an obscure response, which I have yet to see noted by Poe scholars. In his journal in 1845, Longfellow wrote a line in verse: "In Hexameter sings serenely a Harvard professor / In Pentameter him damns censorious Poe." Amidst these accusations of imitation, Longfellow carefully noted that this impromptu couplet was an imitation of another poem, thereby admitting his guilt as a plagiarist.

And it's quite true: Longfellow often lifted ideas from other poems. He was incredibly well-read and often paid homage to his influences. He wasn't ground-breaking as a poet; he did not significantly experiment with poetic structure or invent anything new. Instead, he went back to classic poems — especially European poems — and copied their meter. Remember, of course, that this was a time (the 1840s in particular) where we as Americans were really trying to define and create an American literature — Emerson asked for it, as did Lowell and Fuller. But, instead of trying to be distinctly American, Longfellow said he was trying to be "universal" (read: "European"). Poe, on the other hand, was part of this newly-developing world of American literature that, as Emerson said, aimed to be "free" from the "courtly muses of Europe."

So, was Poe right?

If anyone is interested, I will be speaking much more in-depth on "A War of the Words: Poe's Battle With Longfellow" on Thursday, April 9 at the Cambridge Center for Adult Education, Brattle Street in Cambridge, Massachusetts (the former home of Margaret Fuller!). The lecture is free and open to the public. Later, in October, I'll be making a similar presentation at the Poe Bicentennial Conference in Philadelphia.

In the meantime, I cheerily wish Henry Wadsworth Longfellow a happy 202nd birthday.