A Very Poe Halloween

Looking for ways to celebrate this Halloween the Poe way? Here are my top five* recommendations (I'm hoping it's a good mix of "the classics" with a couple lesser-known ones sprinkled in).

"Metzengerstein" (1832) — Poe's first published tale features a long-standing family rivalry. When the patriarch of one family dies, a young man becomes the rightful heir to his estate. However, the mischievous young man is known for his "shameful debaucheries — flagrant treacheries — unheard-of atrocities." Compared with Caligula, we are told this man "out-heroded Herod." When he finds a mysterious, ill-mannered, rogue horse, he obsesses into breaking it in — no matter the cost.

"Berenice" (original 1835 version, before the more "repulsive" section was self-censored) — "Misery is manifold," the narrator (Egeaus) says at the beginning of the story. As he prepares to marry his cousin Berenice, he tells the reader how both are afflicted with disease — she, a physical one, he a more mental one. When Berenice's disease kills her, or so the narrator thinks, his monomaniacal obsession over the one part of her that never shrivels from disease (her teeth) leads him to one final repulsive act.

"The Fall of the House of Usher" (1839) — A true haunted house in the strictest sense, Roderick Usher is overcome by feelings of dread and doom, while his twin sister Madeline is sick and dying. The narrator rides up to visit in the middle of all of it. Soon, Madeline dies and is locked in the family crypt. Trying to cheer up Roderick is fruitless, until finally: "Not hear it? — yes, I hear it, and have heard it. Long — long — long — many minutes, many hours, many days, have I heard it — yet I dared not — oh, pity me, miserable wretch that I am! — I dared not — I dared not speak! We have put her living in the tomb!"

"Life in Death" (later "The Oval Portrait," 1842) — A wounded traveler makes his way into a mysterious castle to rest in a room with walls covered in paintings. Arrested by one particularly striking portrait, he reads a book which explains its origins. "But it could have been neither the execution of the work, nor the immortal beauty of the countenance, which had so suddenly and so vehemently moved me." Indeed, the provenance of the portrait is much more horrible than the traveler imagined.

"The Masque of the Red Death" (originally 1842, but I'm recommending the 1845 version) — When a plague sweeps over the land, the "sagacious" Prince Prospero invites scores of his friends to escape sickness in his abbey. There, he throws a masquerade throughout seven large chambers to celebrate their success at staving off death. But, as the clock chimes midnight, a strange uninvited guest arrives daring to imitate the disease which rages outside the castle walls. "His vesture was dabbled in blood — and his broad brow, with all the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror."

"The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar" (1845) — Mr. Valdemar is dying of tuberculosis and volunteers for his friend's experiments with Mesmerism, specifically an attempt at putting a person in a trance just as he is at the edge of death. He is successful and, in his trance, Valdemar reports he no longer feels pain but is still dying. "I now feel that I have reached a point of this narrative at which every reader will be startled into positive disbelief. It is my business, however, simply to proceed." I leave it up to you, the reader, to proceed. This story probably has the single most memorable ending of any story ever written.

Happy Halloween reading!

*Okay, so I had trouble choosing only five. Choosing only six wasn't too easy either, but that's what I did.

Autographs, cont'd

Continued from a very, very early post in Poe Calendar Blog history.

The October 29, 1841 issue of the Philadelphia Inquirer reviewed Poe's recent chapter on "Autography" — an unusual work in which Poe analyzed the signatures of well-known literary figures and described the authors' personality based on them. The review called the chapter, "The most singular, and at the same time, the most interesting article" in Graham's Magazine that month. It also caused quite a stir, as some of the authors were not pleased by Poe's characterization.

Though Poe's attempts at "autography" date back to 1836, the review likely referred to a revival of the idea in the November 1841 issue of Graham's. If you're curious how they'd cause a stir, keep in mind that Poe is not a trained handwriting analyst. In fact, he's really just looking for an excuse to give his personal opinion on these people (and their writing, but not their handwriting). Here are a few entries from that issue:

The MS. of Mr. IRVING has little about it indicative of his genius. Certainly, no one could suspect from it any nice finish in the writer's compositions; nor is this nice finish to be found. The letters now before us vary remarkably in appearance; and those of late date are not nearly so well written as the more antique. Mr. Irving has travelled much, has seen many vicissitudes, and has been so thoroughly satiated with fame as to grow slovenly in the performance of his literary tasks. This slovenliness has affected his hand-writing. But even from his earlier MSS. there is little to be gleaned, except the ideas of simplicity and precision. It must be admitted, however, that this fact, in itself, is characteristic of the literary manner, which, however excellent, has no prominent or very remarkable features.

Mr. BRYANT'S MS. puts us entirely at fault. It is one of the most common-place clerk's hands which we ever encountered, and has no character about it beyond that of the day-book and ledger. He writes, in short, what mercantile men and professional penmen call a fair hand, but what artists would term an abominable one. Among its regular up and down strokes, waving lines and hair-lines, systematic taperings and flourishes, we look in vain for the force, polish, and decision of the poet. The picturesque, to be sure, is equally deficient in his chirography and in his poetical productions.

Mr. HALLECK'S hand is strikingly indicative of his genius. We see in it some force, more grace, and little of the picturesque. There is a great deal of freedom about it, and his MSS. seem to be written currente calamo, but without hurry. His flourishes, which are not many, look as if thoughtfully planned, and deliberately, yet firmly executed. His paper is very good, and of a blueish tint — his seal of red wax.

Mr. WILLIS, when writing carefully, would write a hand nearly resembling that of Mr. Halleck ; although no similarity is perceptible in the signatures. His usual chirography is dashing, free, and not ungraceful, but is sadly deficient in force and picturesqueness.

It has been the fate of this gentleman to be alternately condemned ad infinitum, and lauded ad nauseam — a fact which speaks much in his praise. We know of no American writer who has evinced greater versatility of talent ; that is to say, of high talent, often amounting to genius ; and we know of none who has more narrowly missed placing himself at the head of our letters.

The paper of Mr. Willis's epistles is always fine and glossy. At present, he employs a somewhat large seal, with a dove, or carrier-pigeon, at the top, the word "Glenmary" at bottom, and the initials "N. P. W." in the middle.

H. W. LONGFELLOW, (Professor of Moral Philosophy* at Harvard,) is entitled to the first place among the poets of America — certainly to the first place among those who have put themselves prominently forth as poets. His good qualities are all of the highest order, while his sins are chiefly those of affectation and imitation — an imitation sometimes verging upon downright theft.

His MS. is remarkably good, and is fairly exemplified in the signature. We see here plain indications of the force, vigor, and glowing richness of his literary style; the deliberate and steady finish of his compositions. The man who writes thus may not accomplish much, but what he does, will always be thoroughly done. The main beauty, or at least one great beauty of his poetry, is that of proportion ; another, is a freedom from extraneous embellishment. He oftener runs into affectation through his endeavors at simplicity than through any other cause. Now this rigid simplicity, and proportion are easily perceptible in the MS., which, altogether, is a very excellent one.

Mrs. HALE is well known for her masculine style of thought. This is clearly expressed in her chirography, which is far larger, heavier, and altogether bolder than that of her sex generally. It resembles in a great degree that of Professor Lieber, and is not easily deciphered.

Mr. COOPER'S MS. is very bad — unformed, with little of distinctive character about it, and varying greatly in different epistles. In most of those before us a steel pen has been employed, the lines are crooked, and the whole chirography has a constrained and school-boyish air. The paper is fine, and of a bluish tint. A wafer is always used. Without appearing ill-natured, we could scarcely draw any inferences from such a MS. Mr. Cooper has seen many vicissitudes, and it is probable that he has not always written thus. Whatever are his faults, his genius cannot be doubted.

Mrs. E. F. ELLET has published one or two books, exclusively of a volume of poems, but is chiefly known to the literary world by her numerous contributions to the Magazines. As a translator from the Italian, she has acquired an enviable reputation. Her hand, of which the signature above scarcely conveys a full idea, is clear, neat, forcible and legible; just such a hand as one would desire for copying MSS. of importance. We have observed that the writers of such epistles as those before us, are often known as translators, but seldom evince high originality or very eminent talent of any kind.

Poe was ultimately just taking part of the kind of literary gossip that was making the periodical industry thrive, be it in Philadelphia or New York, though the latter city really perfectly celebrity author gossip. For the rest of his "Chapters on Autography," visit the Poe Society of Baltimore.

*Actually, he was the Smith Professor of Modern Languages.

Young Poe and Lafayette

Here's another story of Poe's teen years. At the age of 15, a young Edgar Poe served as a lieutenant (in fact, second-in-command) for the Richmond Junior Volunteers, a group of teenaged riflemen-in-training. This role put him in the direct path of the Marquis de La Fayette, one of the most celebrated generals of the American Revolution.

La Fayette, on his tour of the United States nearly a half-decade after the Revolution, included a three-day tour of Richmond. During a parade, Poe's group of Junior Volunteers were chosen to accompany General La Fayette's carriage.

We don't know for sure if Poe and La Fayette had a conversation, shook hands, or anything like that (though, allegedly, La Fayette himself inspected all his young bodyguards to make sure they were in full uniform). However, we know that Poe was particularly proud of his role that day. Years later, Thomas Ellis (son of Charles Ellis, business partner of Poe's foster-father John Allan) wrote: "But never was I more proud of [Poe] than when, dressed in the uniform... he walked up and down in front of the marquee erected on the Capitol Square, under which the old general held a grand reception." Poe's pride in this uniformed group may have inspired his attempts at joining the military. At one point, he even considers soliciting La Fayette himself to earn an appointment to the Polish Army.

Three weeks after the parade, Poe partnered with another boy, "Captain" John Lyle, in writing a letter to the governor of the Commonwealth of Virginia. They asked for permission "to retain the arms which they lately were permitted to draw from the Armory." A couple days later, the two boys met with a member of the Virginia State Council to further discuss the proposition.

During the same trip to the United States, the Marquis de La Fayette visited Baltimore. The young Edgar probably didn't know that the only person La Fayette asked about in Baltimore was his good friend "General" David Poe, Poe's paternal grandfather. Distressed to hear of his death, La Fayette went to visit his grave at Westminster Burying Ground — next to the plot where Poe would be (first) buried only 25 years later. There, he said, Ici repose un coeur noble ("Here rests a noble heart").

*The image above is of La Fayette circa 1825, shortly after his Richmond trip. The artist is believed to be Matthew Harris Jouett. It is now part of the National Portrait Gallery.

Poe's brother, The Pirate

The Baltimore North American Review published a short story titled “The Pirate” by William Henry Leonard Poe, Edgar’s older brother, on October 27, 1827. The story was based on Edgar’s young, tragic romance with Sarah Elmira Royster. Henry, as he called himself, published several poems in his short life and even occasionally submitted the poetry of his younger brother — though they were often credited to the wrong Poe. There has been some debate about some of the Poes' early poetry, as far as who wrote which.

Less than four years after the publication of "The Pirate," William Henry Leonard Poe died. He was 24 years old.

Henry had served as a sailor for a time but his life was cut short due to tuberculosis, but most biographers are quick to point out that his illness was exacerbated by alcoholism. In fact, the little we are told about Henry is almost always used as a way to better understand Edgar Poe.

Admiring his brother's exploits, Poe later made claims that he traveled to exotic lands (just like Henry). He set many of his prose works at sea, including his only complete novel The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket. Poe was deeply affected by the various tuberculoid figures in his life, including his brother. And, like his brother, he turned to drinking when times were tough.

Edgar once wrote: "there can be no tie more strong than that of brother for brother — it is not so much that they love one another as that they both love the same parent." For a time, Edgar used the alias "Henri Le Rennet," incorporating a French version of his older brother's first name. The strangest speculation comes from biographer Jeffrey Meyers, who says the name "Lenore" was a transformation of "William Henry Leonard."

It's all very poetic. But it's also making speculative leaps to connect the dots. How much do we really know about William Henry Leonard Poe? We don't even know what he looked like; no image of him has been identified.

Poe buys The Broadway Journal

The New York-based Broadway Journal was founded by Charles Frederick Briggs, who partnered with John Bisco. Both were Massachusetts natives by birth — Briggs from Nantucket, and Bisco from Worcester. Briggs was a relatively well-known writer, particularly for his novel The Adventures of Harry Franco; Bisco was most recently a school teacher in New Jersey, but Briggs referredt o him as "a shrewd yankee" who had previously worked with the Knickerbocker. Looking for more help on the literary end, Briggs contacted James Russell Lowell in a letter dated December 7, 1844: "Do you know of any available talent, or genius rather, in your neighborhood?"

Lowell helped Briggs partner with another Massachusetts-born figure: Edgar Poe. Poe became one-third owner in the project (he also published updated versions of "Ligeia," "William Wilson," and "The Tell-Tale Heart" in the newspaper).

Briggs left the project he founded within the first year, at least partially because he was annoyed at his new partner's bickering about Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. On October 24, 1845, John Bisco officially left the periodical too, allowing Poe to buy out his share for $50 — using an I. O. U. endorsed by Horace Greeley (who would later publish Poe's obituary in his own newspaper).

In other words, as of October 24, 1845, Poe was the sole owner of his own journal. The issue published the next day included the masthead listing Poe as "EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR."

It had been a dream of his for the majority of his career, whether he called it The Stylus or The Penn. However, taking over the Broadway Journal was not as ideal as Poe might have imagined. He was inheriting a journal with substantial financial problems (which is why Briggs abandoned ship) and immediately the company was in debt $140. Additionally, Poe's caustic reviews were starting to lose their novelty, resulting in negative responses from critics and readers alike. His recent Boston Lyceum fiasco was also still causing a stir. The Broadway Journal, with Poe at its helm, was defunct with only a few months.

Briggs would join in the assault on Poe's character after Poe's death. He published "The Personality of Poe" in 1877.

Hirst and Poe: Rollicking companions

After Poe's death, Maria Clemm believed much of the negative things written about Poe by Rufus Wilmot Griswold, partly because Griswold had evidence to prove it. It turns out, however, that Griswold forged many of the documents that served as back-up for his concerted character assassination on Poe. Reading Griswold's lies, Maria Clemm lamented: "To think of that villain Griswold dragging before the public all my poor Eddie's faults and not to have the generosity of speaking one word of his good qualities."

That's why Maria Clemm was particularly grateful to the people who came forward in defense of Poe. One such defender was Henry B. Hirst, a friend from Philadelphia. Clemm wrote to him (using black-bordered "mourning" stationary) on October 23, 1849, thanking him for his kind words. As she wrote, "God bless you for doing justice to the memory of my own dear Eddie."

Henry Hirst is a strange character in the study of Poe. The two were introduced in Philadelphia some time in the summer of 1839 (by, of all people, Thomas Dunn English). The two became friends during Poe's tenure in Philadelphia. Though a minor poet at best, Hirst did his best to make money from writing. He even wrote a biography of Poe, published in 1843, in the Philadelphia Saturday Museum. He also reviewed (rather caustically) Griswold's The Poets of Poetry of America in that same newspaper. Poe's own published reviews of Hirst's poetry isn't particularly flattering, though he also accused T. D. English of plagiarizing from Hirst. Poe also though Hirst was stealing his own poetry, but those accusations weren't published in Poe's lifetime ("I do not object to him stealing my verses," Poe wrote; "but I do object to his stealing them in bad grammar. My quarrel with him is not, in short, that he did this thing, but that he has went and done did it."). In fact, Hirst at one point suggested that he was the true author of "The Raven" (who wasn't trying to steal Poe's thunder?), the only evidence being that he owned a pet raven for a time (well, so did Dickens).

Later, after Poe's death, Hirst became a heavy drinker, and it was well-known that he was addicted to absinthe, and soon went insane. The association between Poe and Hirst, especially his defense of Poe and reference to "rollicking" companionship made by John Sartain, led to the rumor that Poe was a heavy absinthe drinker himself (something I still hear about on occasion; a quick Google for "Poe and absinthe" proves there are still people out there perpetuating the rumor). However, as the Edgar Allan Poe Society (Jeff Savoye?) has proven, Poe was almost certainly never an absinthe drinker.

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?

$50 found in a bottle

On October 19, 1833, Baltimore's Saturday Visiter published Poe's tale "MS. Found in a Bottle." The tale is considered one of Poe's first major success. The newspaper was sponsoring a writing contest, as announced in their June 15, 1833 issue: "The proprietors of the Baltimore Saturday Visiter feeling desirous of encouraging literature, and at the same time serving their readers with the best that lies within their reach, offer a premium of 50 dollars for the best Tale and 25 dollars for the best Poem, not exceeding 100 lines." Though the newspaper claimed it was a national contest, both winners were identified as "Baltimoreans" — including Poe.

Interestingly, the paper had been founded in part by Lambert Wilmer, a friend of Poe's older brother. The judges for the contest, which included John Pendleton Kennedy, deliberated on October 7. Poe was chosen as the winner for prose and he was granted the $50 prize (apparently this translates to just over $1000 today). His prize-winning tale was published 12 days later with an introduction praising that it was "highly graphic in its style of composition."

"MS. Found in a Bottle" tells the story of an unnamed narrator ("Of my country and of my family I have little to say.") whose was a passenger aboard a ship caught in a hurricane/sandstorm/typhoon. Everyone aboard the ship is blown overboard — except the narrator and an old Swedish man. Driven south by the storm, this ship eventually collides with another, and the narrator climbs on board. It is while aboard this strange ship, continuously heading south, that the narrator begins to record a journal (the "manuscript" of the title). That manuscript is thrown into the sea just before... well, you'll have to read the story.

This incident was not without controversy. Shortly after "MS. Found in a Bottle" was published, Poe's poetry submission, "The Coliseum," was published as well. In fact, the poetry contest winner was "Henry Wilton" — a pseudonym for John H. Hewitt, one of the judges of the contest. Poe (and others) was outraged and suspected something was afoul. He, of course, presumed he would have been the poetry winner, if it wasn't for the whole contest being rigged. Decades later, in 1885, Hewitt claimed that he had a fistfight with Poe on the street over the accusation (no further evidence exists to substantiate this claim). A third judge, John H. B. Latrobe, later admitted that Poe was right: he would have won, if not for Hewitt.

Either way, "MS. Found in a Bottle" was a major financial boon for Poe, not to mention a morale boost for the struggling writer early in his career. Poe would continue writing adventures at sea for many years, including his only complete novel The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket. He would later win another writing contest with his tale "The Gold-Bug."

Bicentennial of Thomas Holley Chivers

Thomas Holley Chivers was born in Georgia on October 18, 1809 — about eight months after Poe. Chivers went on to become a poet in his own right, though it has become quite impossible to talk about Chivers without mentioning Poe.

The two spent several years corresponding (probably about nine years, according to John Ward Ostrom) and met face-to-face only once (in 1845 in New York). Most of their interactions were because of money; Chivers was independently wealthy, and Poe needed financial backing for his dream project to publish The Stylus. Chivers certainly admired Poe, and invited Poe to live with him in Georgia. Biographer Charles M. Lombard suggests Chivers wanted to take care of Poe financially while he converted him to Swedenborgianism and Temperance. Many suggest Chivers was a Transcendentalist, despite being in the South, making his friendship with Poe all the more unique. Most often, scholars debate whether Poe stole his poetic ideas from Chivers (as Chivers accused) or if Chivers, a minor poet, was stealing from Poe.

Consider this elegy written by Chivers after Poe's death. It's called "The Fall of Usher":

"Thou art gone to the grave!" but thy spirit is shining,
And singing afar in the Realms of the Blest;
While the living are left by thy cold grave reclining,
And mourning for thee while they long for thy rest —
Left mourning for thee while they long for thy rest!

"Thou art gone to the grave!" thou art gone where thy slumber
No more shall be broken by sorrow or pain —
Soon to rise with that host which no mortal can number,
To lie down no more in that Valley again!
No more to lie down in that Valley again!

"Thou art gone to the grave!" there is none can restore thee,
Or bring thee again from that Silent Abode!
But the Conqueror of Death went to dwell there before thee,
And He has prepared thee the way to thy God!
Prepared thee the way to thy Beautiful God!

"Thou art gone to the grave!" thou art silently sleeping
A sleep which no sorrow shall ever molest;
And, in longing for which, my poor heart now is keeping
This silent lament in its grave in my breast!
Like Shelley for Keats, in its grave in my breast!

"Thou art gone to the grave!" let the dark Weeping Willow
Bend over thy grave where thy beauty was laid!
While thy form, thus reclined on the earth for its pillow,
Shall live in the Spring-flowers which bloom at thy head —
To feed the young Butterflies born at thy head.

"Thou art gone to the grave!" where the Violets are springing,
And feeding upon thee above the damp sod,
Now thy Pandemos mourns, while thy spirit is singing,
And drinking delight from the Fountains of God —
With thine Ullalume lost from the Fountains of God.

Perhaps more interesting than Chivers's debt to Poe (or vice versa) is how complicated the Georgian poet's life was. At 18 years old, he married his 16-year old first cousin. While she was pregnant with their daughter, a meddling uncle suggested that Chivers physically abused his wife (the facts are still uncertain) and she left him before their daughter was born. Chivers likely never saw her. Several lawsuits were exchanged between the couple (Chivers always seems to have won out) but they never legally divorced; instead, Georgia law voided their marriage for being separated for five years. In his will, he left his first wife and daughter exactly $1. Escaping Georgia for a time, he moved to Tennessee and became a medical doctor.

He remarried in 1834 to a Massachusetts woman named Harriet Hunt. Four years later, Chivers's mother died and four years after that his favorite daughter Allegra Florence Chivers died (on his birthday, 1842). His three remaining children from Harriet Hunt died within four months. So, by 1848, the time that Chivers is asking Poe to move to Georgia, all his children had died or been taken from him.

After Poe's death, Chivers alternated between defending his friend and accusing him of plagiarism, even going so far as to say "The Raven" was completely inspired by his own work. At one point, he said that he had taught Poe how to write poetry. As literary scholar Randy Nelson wrote: "anybody who's read both Poe and Thomas Holley Chivers can see that one of them 'influenced' the other, but just who took what from whom isn't clear."

Chivers's own poetry isn't terribly good. In fact, it's terribly good. He focused on sound and rhythm and rhyme — sort of like Poe, but brought to incredibly hyperbolic, superlative levels. The sounds in his poems, in fact, are so over the top, they can be somewhat silly. Perhaps this is why Poe once called Chivers "of the best and one of the worst poets in America."

Happy 200th birthday, Thomas Holley Chivers.
(Coincidentally, it's also the birthday of Elizabeth Ellet in 1818.)

The Boston Lyceum incident

Years before his death, Poe made his final trip to Boston. On October 16, 1845, dovetailing off the success of "The Raven," Poe presented a lecture at the Boston Lyceum. The fiasco that ensued has invited several interpretations in modern times, most recently by Philip Phillips of Middle Tennessee State University. What was Poe thinking?

Poe had been asked to present an original poem; James Russell Lowell was likely involved in setting up his appearance. We know that Poe disliked many of the prominent Massachusetts writers (not necessarily Bostonian, including Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, William Ellery Channing, and Ralph Waldo Emerson, not to mention his see-sawing responses to Nathaniel Hawthorne) so it might have been awkward for him. Yet, Poe was a Bostonian by birth. He moved there when he left the Allan family and his first book was published there with the byline "by a Bostonian."

The evening on October 16 began with a long oration by Caleb Cushing (pictured at left), a well-known Massachusetts politician who had just returned from a mission to China. His two-and-a-half hour speech got first billing. Poe was next and, after a few quick stabs at Boston audiences, presented something he titled "The Messenger Star" — which was, in fact, his much earlier poem "Al Aaraaf," rather than the original poem expected.

The response was mixed. Some say people in the audience were baffled and confused; some may have left early (blame Cushing?). Editor of the Boston Evening Transcript Cornelia Wells Walter expressed hostility. But poet/editor/travel writer Thomas Wentworth Higginson was not only sympathetic but laudatory (though he admitted confusion too). He said he "felt that we had been under the spell of some wizard."

Poe later claimed it was a hoax, trying to prove that the Boston audience did not know good poetry. "Al Aaraaf," of course, is one of the most allegorical of Poe's poems (which New Englanders love, according to Poe) and also one of the thickest, full of confusing allusions and complicated alternating metrical schemes. The fact that Poe did not give the proper name and instead referred to it as "The Messenger Star" is evidence that he was not trying to play it straight. The poem was 16 years old when he read it, but it had been re-published in excerpts only a few months earlier in an article by J. R. Lowell. But, what did he really intend? Could he really have "hoaxed" anyone?

Poe in St. Louis

It's fun to see how many cities have a connection to Poe. St. Louis is on that list too.

Edward Horton Norton Patterson, 19 years Poe's junior, was an editor at the Oquawka Spector, a weekly newspaper in Illinois owned by his father. Apparently a man of wealth, Patterson was one of many potential financiers of Poe's dream project The Stylus. Because both men were already in the publishing world, they had a good understanding of the business and they had their own ideas for how to create this new magazine. Patterson even recommended what size typeface to use and cautioned that at least $1,100 of start-up costs were needed. He recommended Poe find 1000 subscribers to start. Poe wrote of his own expectations:

We must aim high — address the intellect — the higher classes of the country... and put the work at $5 [cover price]: — giving about 112 pp. (or perhaps 128) with occasional wood-engravings in the first style of art, but only in obvious illustration of the text.

To discuss the business deal, Patterson invited Poe to meet him in St. Louis and sent him $50 to cover his travel expenses. A meeting was scheduled for October 15, 1849. Along the way, Poe intended to lecture and solicit subscribers. Poe didn't live long enough to make the appointment, having died just over a week earlier.

Patterson may have been the best hope of getting The Stylus off the ground. But Poe was also distracted by his pursuit of Elmira Royster — and he also had a tendency to miss important appointments. Nevertheless, it is with certainty that I suggest The Stylus would have produced its first issue dated January 1850, marking the beginning of the so-called American Renaissance of the 1850s and making Poe an important part of that movement.

Death of Poe: The Mystery Continues

This is the second of a two-part guest blog by mystery novelist Matthew Pearl (The Dante Club, The Poe Shadow, and The Last Dickens).

The Real Investigators of Poe's death
Part II: The Mysterious Mr. Benson
by Matthew Pearl

There may have been another man snooping around Baltimore to find out more about Poe's death in the fall of 1849—or it may be another fiction in the Poe death narrative.

Before going to Baltimore on his way to New York, Poe was staying in Richmond and took the oath from the Sons of Temperance, probably to appease Elmira Shelton and her family. The president of the anti-drinking organization, William J. Glenn, was interviewed at the age of 76 in the Richmond Times March 10, 1893 about Poe's pledge and makes an interesting claim.

“Several of the members of the Council went to Baltimore to make inquiries into the circumstances of the poet’s death,” says Glenn. “After a careful investigation they were satisfied that he had not been drinking. His new coat had been substituted by an old, much-worn garment, and several valuables which he had with him were missing. According to the theory of those who made the investigation, he had been drugged and robbed before he was taken to the hospital where he died.”

Seven years later, in a letter dated December 4, 1900, Glenn gets more specific about this investigation. “In October,” Glenn writes of Poe, “he started to Baltimore... A few days later we heard of his death at a hospital in that city, and the statement was made and too busily circulated that his death was the result of a spree commenced as soon as he reached Baltimore. We of the temperance order to which he belonged exerted ourselves to get at the facts, and the consensus of opinion was that he had not been drinking, but had been drugged. A gentleman by the name of Benson, born in Baltimore in 1811, and living there until he was 21 years old, went to Baltimore, and, as he knew Poe and felt much interest in the manner of his death, went to the hospital at which he died, and had a talk with the doctor (an acquaintance), who told him that Poe had not been drinking when brought to the hospital, but was under the influence of a drug; he added that he suggested the use of stimulants, but that Mr. Poe positively declined taking any.”

Can we put stock in Glenn's accounts? It is intriguing to have a name, at least: Benson. Perhaps it is made more credible by the details about Benson's age and background (if Glenn was making it up, wouldn't he leave that out?). Benson, if he existed, would have been approximately 38 in 1849. He would have lived in Baltimore until about 1832, and by 1849 lived in Richmond. Can we find out who Benson was? If so, could this lead us to more details about Poe's death? Are there other accounts by Glenn or this mysterious Mr. Benson waiting for us out there?

Did the Sons of Temperance really launch their own investigation into Poe's death? If so, was it several members who traveled to Baltimore—as claimed in the 1893 interview—or just one named Benson, as claimed in Glenn's 1900 letter?

*Special thanks to Matthew, who was kind enough to prepare these posts and wait two months before they were posted. On a more personal note, I highly recommend Matthew's novels, especially The Dante Club. -RV

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."

Death of Poe: The funeral

On Monday, October 8, 1849, Edgar Poe was laid to rest in his family's burial plot in Baltimore, Maryland after a short funeral. The funeral, held in a light rain beginning at 4:00 that afternoon, was attended by six people: Dr. Joseph Evans Snodgrass, cousin Neilson Poe, University of Virginia classmate Z. Collins Lee, cousin Elizabeth Herring and her husband, and former schoolmaster Joseph Clarke. The ceremony was officiated by the Reverend W. T. D. Clemm, cousin of Poe's wife Virginia. He had prepared a longer speech, but cut it short when he saw the small crowd. Instead, it lasted about three minutes.

The sexton at the Westminster Church and Burial Ground, George W. Spence oversaw the burial. He reported: "It was a dark and gloomy day, not raining but just kind of raw and threatening."

There's no doubt that the affair was rushed. Poe had died only the day before. Nevertheless, all of the logistics were taken care of. According to various reports, a shroud was made by the wife of Dr. John J. Moran (Poe's attending physician in his final days), Poe's cousin Neilson Poe provided a hearse, and Poe's uncle Henry Herring provided a mahogany coffin (claimed to have no nameplate, no handles, no cloth lining, and not even a cushion for the corpse's head). He was buried in a plot of the cemetery which was already owned by his family, next to his grandfather, "General" David Poe (his brother, William Henry Leonard Poe, was buried there as well).

Poe's grave was left unmarked. A white marble headstone was commissioned by cousin Neilson Poe (pictured at left; image from Matthew Pearl) with the inscription "Here, at last, he is happy." The completed stone never made it to the cemetery. A train derailed and crashed into the monument yard where it was housed, destroying the headstone. Instead, Poe was marked with a sandstone block marked "No. 80."

Poe would not rest forever in this spot.

Poe's importance was recognized posthumously; supporters included fellow bicentennial poet Alfred, Lord Tennyson, who referred to Poe's "long-neglected" burial spot and called him "the greatest American genius" (apparently echoing similar laudatory words from Fitz-Greene Halleck). Baltimore teacher Sara Sigourney Rice led a campaign to better memorialize Poe. But, more on that another time. In the meantime, Poe's supporters had something else to deal with in the days after Poe's death.

Death of Poe

On October 7, 1849, Edgar Poe died. He was 40 years old. Thus ended his struggle for financial success, his foibles (whatever they were), and his genius. Thus begins his greatest mystery.

Perhaps it is fitting (or ironic, depending on your point of view) that the man who invented the modern detective story left such a strange question unanswered: What killed Edgar Poe?

Rising to the challenge, several have offered their theories — some inspired by personal bias, others based on scientific evidence; some a posthumous attempt to malign his character, others an attempt at further fictionalizing the man's already-fascinating story. Besides the cooping theory, and the theory that Poe was drugged/beaten by the brothers of Sarah Elmira Royster, there have been suggestions that Poe was murdered (some even dare to suggest Rufus Griswold) or that he committed suicide. I tend to disagree with those violent suggestions (and even the quote from Baudelaire that says Poe's death was a suicide which was long time in coming).

Is it mundane to think that Poe died of medical reasons? Perhaps it is too simple for people that want a more titillating story but the reality seems to be that people were more likely to die by disease than violence in the 19th century (excluding the Civil War). If Poe's death was because of a medical condition, theories include the following (deep breath): diabetes, epilepsy, tuberculosis, heart attack or heart disease, brain tumor, carbon monoxide poisoning, arsenic, lead poisoning, alcohol poisoning (still popular despite contrary evidence), cholera, syphilis, meningitis, and rabies.

Rabies? Yes, and for a time the theory had fairly substantial support. Though most biographies mention the cooping theory, it seems few take it seriously and many point to medical theories instead.

Regardless, one of the greatest imaginations in all of American writing died this day in 1849. Though his death remains a mystery, I am thankful to know that I can enjoy his works any time. It is unfortunate that today, for the first time in about five years, I will not be able to visit Poe at his grave in Baltimore (his original burial plot is today marked, as shown in the photo above).

*As a footnote, on this same day 45 years later, fellow bicentennial poet Oliver Wendell Holmes died. He was 85 years old.

Reynolds, help my poor soul

At Washington College Hospital at Broadway and Fayette Street in Baltimore, Edgar Poe was dying. His room has been described as "prison-like," with barred windows, in a section of the hospital normally reserved for drunks. He was denied visitors.

Poe's had suddenly appeared in Baltimore "rather the worse for wear" after disappearing for six days. His stay at the hospital would provide no answers. He was incoherent, occasionally raving mad. A handful of major legends stand out from this time period, both attributable to the questionable testimony of Dr. John J. Moran, Poe's attending physician from October 3 to October 7, 1849. Moran made a minor celebrity of himself, earning his 15 minutes of fame as Poe's last doctor by offering several stories of the writer's last days — stories which occasionally contradicted one another.

In one of Poe's few coherent moments, the good doctor claims that he tried to cheer Poe by saying he would soon be out of the hospital and enjoying the company of friends. Poe's response was that "the best thing his friends could do is blow out his brains with a pistol."

Moran also claimed that Poe woke up to call out the name "Reynolds" — a claim which has inspired much speculation (if even true). Could the name refer to Jeremiah N. Reynolds, the Antarctic explorer who inspired Poe's novel The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket? Many biographers seem to think so, without offering justification why Poe recollected a man he never met 11 years after his novel was published. Historical fiction writers have made the attempt to figure out the mystery as well. Another possibility is Henry R. Reynolds, apparently one of the judges who oversaw Ryan's Tavern's use as the fourth ward polls (Poe was discovered on Election Day). Some suggest Moran misheard and that Poe really was calling for "Herring," his uncle by marriage who lived in Baltimore.

Many of those who speculate on the "Reynolds" mystery seem to ignore that Moran's later accounts did not mention the alleged "Reynolds" rantings. He also claimed that Poe mentioned having a wife in Richmond, which wasn't far off. But, really, how much of Moran's accounts should be trusted?

Moran made it seem as if he was by Poe's side for the entire four days he was in the hospital. This is obviously not likely. But, realistically, it's conceptually possible that Moran was the only witness to Poe's last words. Moran claimed those words were: "The arched heavens encompass me, and God has his decree legibly written upon the frontlets of every created human being, and demons incarnate, their goal will be the seething waves of blank despair."

Huh?

In another account, Moran offered a simpler possibility: "Lord, help my poor soul." That version is the one that has been entered in the record books as "fact."

*The image above is Washington College Hospital as it looks today, courtesy of Baltimore Then and Now.

Rather the worse for wear

Baltimore City, Oct 3d 1849

Dear Sir, — There is a gentleman, rather the worse for wear, at Ryan's Fourth ward polls, who goes under the cognomen of Edgar A. Poe, and who appears in great distress, & he says he is acquainted with you, and I assure you, he is in need of immediate assistance.

Yours in haste, Jos. W. Walker

This was the letter which Joseph W. Walker sent to his former employer Joseph Evans Snodgrass on October 3, 1849. It is the first document record of Poe since September 27 (if it exists; I haven't seen it and have no idea where it is housed).

Poe was found in a delirious state in or near Ryan's Tavern in Gunner's Hall located at 44 East Lombard Street, Baltimore. The exact situation is unknown (though legend persists he was in a gutter, in an alley, or otherwise in the street; he may very well have been sitting on a chair inside the Tavern). He may or may not have been drunk. He may or may not have been drugged. He may or may not have been wearing someone else's clothing. He may or may not have asked for Snodgrass by name, rather than naming any of his Baltimore relatives.

Snodgrass, a physician/editor, made it to Ryan's by the afternoon. He later recounted that he knew Poe immediately, despite an odd hat — "a cheap palm-leaf one, without a band, and soiled." Snodgrass also later claimed that Poe was a drunken wreck, and his fate was a lesson to all who were intemperate. Snodgrass was, of course, one of the most violently outspoken members of the temperance movement — readers may decide if he had any bias. Snodgrass apparently bumped into a "Mr. H——, a relative of Mr. Poe's by marriage" (identified as his uncle Henry Herring) and the two decided to put Poe in a carriage to the Washington College Hospital. Poe was received by Dr. John Joseph Moran, who later claimed that Poe wore a straw hat that day and that he "had not the slightest odor of liquor upon his breath or person."

The day Poe was found was election day in Maryland "for members of Congress and for members of the House of Delegates," according to one newspaper that morning. Ryan's, besides being a tavern, was also hosting the fourth ward polls, as eluded to in Walker's letter to Snodgrass. Scholar William Hand Browne observed: "At that time the polls were usually held at public houses, and the candidates saw that every voter had all the whiskey he wanted."

This coincidental date/location also lent credence to an early theory that Poe was a victim of "cooping" — that he was abducted by thugs hired by a political party or individual politician to force people's vote. Victims were chosen at random and force-fed alcohol or drugs to make them more cooperative. When not forced into polling booths, these people were held in "coops," tight cages which led to the occasional accidental death. Poe might have been forced into another person's clothing to disguise his identity (the thugs would not have known of his celebrity status). He was then kicked to the curb when they were done with him — or, so says this theory.

The six days that Poe went missing is a mystery, but even his reappearance is full of holes and questions. How credible was Mr. Snodgrass? How about Dr. Moran? Was Poe supposed to be in Baltimore rather than Philadelphia or New York? Where was he found? Who called for Snodgrass? Was it just a coincidence that this was Election Day?

Thou hast murdered thyself

October 1, 1849 — Poe's whereabouts are still unaccounted for. Though I don't mean to keep the story in suspense, I'd like to offer a quick interlude in honor of the first day of October. If 2009 hasn't pulled you into Poe yet, the amazing line-up of Poe events around the world throughout October just might. What better month to celebrate the macabre side of America's greatest imaginative genius?

Looking back, you might be disappointed to see how few of Poe's October-appropriate stories were first published in October or October issues of periodicals. "MS. Found in a Bottle" was published in October 1833, "The Landscape Garden" was published nine years later in October 1842. A year after that, a humorous story called "Diddling" made its October appearance, followed by the very funny "Angel of the Odd" a year later. Poe's essay on "The Rationale of Verse" was also published in October, in 1848. Poems include "The Divine Right of Kings" and "The Coliseum." The major one is "Annabel Lee," but I'll tell that story another day. "Ulalume," of course, takes place in "the lonesome October," but it was actually published in December 1847. In other words, Poe's Octobers were fairly empty of appropriate October writings.

But then there's "William Wilson." More complicated than a simple "horror story," "William Wilson" was published in The Gift: A Christmas and New Year's Present for 1840, which likely hit shelves sometime in October 1839 (giving plenty of time for early Christmas shoppers... we haven't changed much, have we?). One of Poe's most complicated and under-appreciated tales, the main character made his name up to protect his own identity (symbolically making himself the "son" of his "will"). The setting of the tale, somewhat Gothic and daunting, was inspired by Poe's early childhood in England and the title character shares a birthday on January 19 with the author.

William Wilson meets a man who shares his name and even his birthday. Soon, the narrator sees this doppelganger as a competitor. To make a long story short, one William Wilson seeks to murder the other. However, after the deed is done, the image of the corpse turns out to be a mirror, revealing that both murderer and victim are one and the same. The closing line of the tale confirms what we all knew would happen: "thou hast murdered thyself."

The epigraph above the story asks, "What say of it? what say of conscience grim, That spectre in my path?" Is there a moral here, despite Poe's apparent dislike of using literature to teach a lesson? Maybe. But it's still a great story. And a great way to celebrate October (or Christmas, apparently!).

*The image above is by Harry Clarke.