Birth of the Broadway Journal

Charles Frederick Briggs and John Bisco signed a contract on December 23, 1844 to begin a new publication in New York. Only a couple weeks earlier, Briggs was struggling over what to name the new periodical. He settled on "The Broadway Journal."

Bisco was the brains that handled the business operations while Briggs utilized his established literary reputation to attract both contributors and readers. Briggs, however, was no fool and wanted an even bigger name to attract attention. He asked his close friend James Russell Lowell how to get in touch with Edgar Allan Poe.

The Broadway Journal rose and fell very quickly. Briggs and Bisco partnered with Poe because of his reputation — a reputation earned partly from "The Raven" but also from his harsh, relentless literary criticism. When Poe did the same sort of criticism for the Journal, Briggs was offended (particularly when Poe attacked Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, angering mutual friend J. R. Lowell).

The three business partners never quite came together. Briggs, who was also dealing with personal financial difficulties, attempted to buy out Bisco to take in more profit for himself. Instead, he abandoned the journal he helped start only about six months into the project. Poe considered selling his share of the company to another editor, a lion of New York periodicals named Evert Augustus Duyckinck, or the main proponent of copyright law Cornelius Mathews. Instead, he borrowed money from Horace Greeley and bought out John Bisco. As of October 1845, Poe was the sole owner of The Broadway Journal. Despite Poe's high hopes, the publication shut down with its January 3, 1846 issue (after which Poe vowed to start the Stylus, which never came to be).

Briggs continued to work in the publishing industry, editing several other magazines, journals, newspapers, and annuals. He had a somewhat long run on Putnam's Magazine, where he worked with notables like Parke Godwin (son-in-law of William Cullen Bryant) and George William Curtis. Little seems to be known about John Bisco outside his connection to Briggs and Poe.

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).

Or Broadway Something...

Charles Frederick Briggs was mostly known as a writer of satiric novels, particularly the then-famous The Adventures of Harry Franco. To his dismay, his title character also became his nickname (much like Poe was later referred to as "The Raven"). Wanting to do more, Briggs intended to start his own journal. He was struggling, however, with choosing a name.

On December 7, 1844, Briggs wrote his friend,* the literary critic James Russell Lowell: "I shall issue a prospectus in a day or two; the name will be, for the sake of individuality... the Broadway Journal, or Review, or Chronicle, or Broadway Something..."

Briggs wanted to emphasize the distinct New York flavor to his journal. Most periodicals were regional, after all (even Poe original aimed for Pennsylvanian readers when planning The Penn; he later renamed it The Stylus to appeal to a broader audience). The one which Briggs was planning would become The Broadway Journal with the help of his business-minded partner John Bisco.

In the same letter to Lowell, he asks about getting in touch with Poe. Poe came in as a co-editor and business partner. The venture, however, never turned a substantial profit and Bisco eventually bailed out. Oddly enough, Briggs had difficulty working with Poe, in part due to the vitriolic style of criticism which first drew him towards hiring Poe. He soon sold his portion of the business to Poe to break the partnership. By the fall of 1845, The Broadway Journal was solely under the control and ownership of Edgar Poe — it was the only journal and the only business Poe ever owned.

During his tenure there, Poe tweaked and republished a substantial portion of his major works; many of the versions featured in The Broadway Journal became the standard editions. He continued reviewing other writers, noticed newly-published works, updated his readers on local politics, and gave his theories on good literature.

Despite his best intentions (and even a vow to his friend Thomas Holley Chivers to "make a fortune of it yet"), Poe did not succeed in bringing the struggling journal to success. Its final issue was in January 1846. Nevertheless, the experience pushed him closer to producing The Stylus. Despite working in earnest, his plans never came to fruition.

*More work could be done considering their friendship. Lowell turned over all profits from his famous A Fable for Critics directly to Briggs. Certainly, some of the animosity Lowell will begin to feel towards Poe during the "Longfellow War" comes from Briggs's trash-talking, so to speak.

Poe vs. The Crazyites

Poe was already a household name when The Raven and Other Poems was published in 1845, mostly due to the title poem in that collection. On December 6, 1845, one very different periodical reviewed the book.

The Harbinger was the official publication of the experimental community at Brook Farm at West Roxbury, Massachusetts. Formed in 1841 by George Ripley and his wife Sophia, the working farm meant to put in practice the ideals of Transcendentalism. Every community member did their fair share of the work, but buy-in required a part-ownership of their joint-stock company. One of the founders, Nathaniel Hawthorne, left early on and asked for his money back. The Farm was dissolved about five years after its founding.

With their high ideals for perfect living, the Brook Farmers anticipated plenty of time to explore the Arts, culture, and other intellectual pursuits. The Harbinger was the outlet to show off their success. Critic John Sullivan Dwight reviewed The Raven and Other Poems in the December 6, 1845 issue. "Mr. Poe has earned some fame by various tales and poems, which of late has become notoriety through a certain blackguard warfare which he has been waging against the poets and newspaper critics of New England, and which it would be most charitable to impute to insanity." Ouch.

More to the point, he wrote: "We must confess that they [e.g. the poems] have a great deal of power, a great deal of beauty... originality, and dramatic effect. But they have more of effect, than of expression... There is a wild unearthliness, and unheavenliness, in the tone of all his pictures, a strange unreality in all his thoughts; they seem to stand shivering, begging admission to our hearts in vain, because they look not as if they came from the heart."

A few days later, December 13, Poe gave his opinions of The Harbinger in the magazine he owned, the Broadway Journal. He notes that he "sincerely respect[s]" the publication as "the most reputable organ of the Crazyites" (i.e. the Transcendentalists?). He dismisses them by noting the group is "conducted by an assemblage of well-read persons who mean no harm — and who, perhaps, can do less." Harmless as they are, Poe then dissects Dwight's review and ridicules his poor grammar. He concludes, "it shocks us to hear a set of respectable Crazyites talking in so disingenuous a manner." In the future, he hopes, they "will never have any opinion of us at all."

*Images: Brook Farm by Josiah Wolcott; its idealism is emphasized by the rainbow. From the collection of the Massachusetts Historical Society. The other image is the front page of a November 1846 issue of The Harbinger; it continued publishing from New York for about a year after Brook Farm dissolved.

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.

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.

The Red Death returns

Poe often republished his works, particularly when he was editor/owner of the Broadway Journal. My guess is that, always looking to fill space, he constantly had new versions of his previously-published works on hand. One example is the July 19, 1845 issue of the Broadway Journal, when Poe published a work formerly known as "The Mask of the Red Death: A Fantasy." This new version was renamed "The Masque of the Red Death." The minor shift from "Mask" to "Masque" is no small matter; Poe carefully calculated each and every word he used in his major works. The new title emphasizes the party scene in the story, putting it in the possession or control of the Red Death — and making it just that much more ominous.

If you don't know the story, I'd be surprised. Briefly, it follows a wealthy prince named Prospero, who invites his friends and fellow royals into his "castellated abbey" to avoid the plague raging outside. As his townspeople die out, he believes he will be perfectly safe and even throws a masquerade party to celebrate his sagacity. The massive gala takes place throughout seven rooms, each decorated with a specific color theme. The only room that most guests avoid is the final room, a black chamber with a foreboding ebony clock. When a strange-looking guest appears, wearing the garb of a victim of the plague, Prospero confronts him and, well, no words sum it up better than the final words in the story: "And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all."

Despite being one of Poe's popular mainstream works, "The Masque of the Red Death" has invited substantial critical commentary too. Often, it is read as an allegory about the inevitability of death — a reading complicated by Poe's outspoken dislike of using allegory. Particularly inviting to scholars is the question of the disease. Some suggest it stands in for tuberculosis, a disease which Poe had personal experience with; his wife Virginia was suffering from it at the time the story was written. Poe also witnessed a cholera epidemic while in Baltimore and the "red death" may reference that disease. Bubonic plague, also known as the black death, is another candidate, especially because of the symbolism of the final black room.

If you ask me, the "Red Death" is the "Red Death" and nothing more. In creating a fictitious disease, Poe makes the story about all disease, not any specific one. But, it is because of this debate and these questions of "What did Poe mean?" which help the story be more than just a scary tale but one of depth and value. Overall, "The Masque of the Red Death" stands as one of Poe's most important — and most entertaining — prose works.

*The image at the top right is by Harry Clarke, published in 1919, with an added red tint. I couldn't resist.

In memoriam: C. F. Briggs

Charles Frederick Briggs died today, June 20, in 1877. Who is C. F. Briggs, you ask?

A former sailor from Nantucket, Massachusetts, Briggs became moderately famous with his novel The Adventures of Harry Franco. Later, Briggs decided to enter the world of literary journalism. In December 1844, Briggs wrote to James Russell Lowell: "I have made arrangements for publishing the first number of my long talked of paper in January." He partnered with John Bisco and the publication was named The Broadway Journal.

It seems like Lowell was the real intermediary between Briggs and Poe (Lowell and Briggs were close enough that Lowell's 1848 book-length satirical poem A Fable for Critics was dedicated to Briggs, who also was given all its profits). Through a letter dated December 12, 1844, Lowell "introduced" the two. Briggs brought Poe into the fold as a contributor (his first contribution was a review of Elizabeth Barrett) but eventually tapped him as a business partner. Poe became one-third owner before both Bisco and Briggs jumped ship. Their departure made The Broadway Journal the only publication Poe ever owned, though it was a short-lived honor.

Despite their business partnership, Briggs and Poe cannot be considered friends. Briggs was trying to pressure Poe out of the journal as early as May 1845; instead, he gave up and left (as much because of Bisco as Poe). "I refused to do anything more with the journal," he wrote to Lowell by July 16. He also spread rumors of Poe's drinking (Poe had recently turned to the bottle after 18 months as a teetotaler) and referred to him as having a "characterless character" who was "utterly deficient of high motive."

Not that Poe was the good guy here either; he took a few stabs at his former business partner in print, including a mention in his infamous "Literati of New York" series. As he wrote, "Mr. Briggs has never composed in his life three consecutive sentences of grammatical English. He is grossly uneducated." Briggs responded by spreading rumors that Poe was in an insane asylum and noted that Poe is struck with "infirmities of mind and body." He also turned Poe into a satirical character in his serialized novel The Trippings of Tom Pepper.

I have recently found evidence that Briggs was buried on Staten Island. He's now on my "must-visit" list. RIP, "Harry Franco."

Poe's only surviving letter to his wife

There is only one surviving letter written by Poe to his wife Virginia. The letter begins:

"My Deart Heart, My dear Virginia! our Mother [e.g. Maria Clemm, Virginia's mother and Poe's aunt/mother-in-law] will explain to you why I stay away from you this night. I trust the interview I am promised,* will result in some substantial good for me, for your dear sake, and hers—Keep up your heart in all hopefulness, and trust yet a little longer."

He then assures here, "I shall be with you tomorrow P.M. and be assured until I see you, I will keep in loving remembrance your last words and your fervent prayer!"

Virginia at this time was very ill with tuberculosis. Emphasizing his dependence on the younger woman, Poe asks her to survive just a little longer. It is because of her, he notes, that he has been able to be strong after the recent failure of the Broadway Journal. "In my last great disappointment, I should have lost my courage but for you—my darling little wife you are my greatest and only stimulus now to battle with this uncongenial, unsatisfactory and ungrateful life." Certainly a heavy burden for a dying woman to bear!

The brief letter is signed "Your devoted Edgar." That devotion is clear. As Biographer Kenneth Silverman wrote, "Although he treated many others abrasively, falsely, or manipulatively, with Virginia he seems always to have been soft, concerned, nearly reverential."

But he could not count on her forever. Around this same time, a visitor already noted she was "almost a disrobed spirit, and when she coughed it was made certain that she was rapidly passing away." At the time Poe wrote this only extant letter to his wife, she was only six months away from death.

*Circumstances surrounding this letter are unclear; it is not even known where Poe was when he wrote to his wife. It's possible he was working on building subscriptions for The Stylus (an "interview" is not necessarily job-related at this time; it could refer to any scheduled interaction between people).

**The image of the letter is courtesy of the web site "Knowing Poe." The original is part of the collection of the University of Virginia.

"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.

To the Noblest of Her Sex

On March 6, 1806, Elizabeth Barrett Moulton-Barrett — better known today as the English poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning — was born.* As with many other well-known writers of the time period, she has a connection to Edgar A. Poe.

The easy connection is in Poe's famous poem "The Raven." In writing that poem, he chose to emulate the complex poetic format and rhyming scheme of Barrett's "Lady Geraldine's Courtship." Both "The Raven" and "Lady Geraldine's Courtship" use a poetic form called "trochaic octameter" — that is, lines are made up of eight metrical feet utilizing trochees (a stressed syllable followed by an unstressed one). This is a very wide meter — it's so long, in fact, that Poe requested his publishers not print it in the typical two-column style magazines used in those days but to instead allow only a single column, so that the entire line could run across the page.

Poe noted one line of Barrett's in particular as a source of inspiration: "With a rushing stir, uncertain, in the air, the purple curtain" which sounds very similar to Poe's "And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain..."

But, enough with the poetry lesson. Let's talk about the correspondence between Barrett and Poe.

Poe's earliest known review of Barrett was published in the Janaury 4, 1845, issue of the Broadway Journal — shortly after he had sold "The Raven." He reviewed her book The Drama of Exile, and Other Poems. The review (which later had a part two) was, I think, rather on the neutral side (though other Poe scholars refer to it as "gushing" and "enthusiastic"), especially because he condemns her "continuous mystical strain of ill-fitting and exaggerated allegory." What he does offer, however, is praise of Barrett's technical ability at crafting poems. He also notes that her "sense of art is pure in itself" (any time Poe uses "pure," he's giving the equivalent of a 5-star rating). A copy of the review is sent to Barrett through an acquaintance (and fellow poet) named Richard Henry Horne on January 25, along with a copy of "The Raven." While awaiting a reply, Poe criticized another journal for its negative comments about Barrett, referring to her as "the queen of all female poets." Okay, now we're getting gushy.

Barrett, after some delay, writes to Horne on May 12 that "The Raven" has power, though it suggests its author is not sane. As she writes, "it does not appear to me the natural expression of a sane intellect in whatever mood." She praises Poe's rhythm (ironically?) and the repeated "nevermore." Overall, she says, "there is an uncommon force and effect in the poem."

Barrett, within moments of this letter, writes another to Horne, telling him not to share her words with Poe. She downplays her interest in "The Raven" and instead focuses on the review, making sure to sound grateful for his praise. She refers to him as "a wonder among critics."

The success of "The Raven" prompted Poe to publish a full collection of poems (something he hadn't done in 14 years!). The Raven and Other Poems included the dedication: "To the noblest of her sex — to the author of 'The Drama of Exile' — to Miss Elizabeth Barrett Barrett, of England, I dedicate this volume, with the most enthusiastic admiration and with the most sincere esteem."

The dedication was a bit odd. The two had not corresponded directly, only through Horne as an intermediary. She was a bit surprised. As she wrote to Robert Browning on November 28, 1845, acknowledging the dedication: "And think of Mr. Poe... He wrote a review of me... the two extremes of laudation & reprehension, folded in on one another—You would have thought that it had been written by a friend & foe, each stark mad with love & hate, & writing the alternate paragraphs."

Poe finally sent her a personal, autographed copy of his collected poems and tales (presumably a London-printed version) in February 1846. A month later, she wrote to a friend: "Mr. Poe sent me a volume containing his poems and tales collected, so now I must write and thank him for his dedication. What is to be said, I wonder, when a man calls you the 'noblest of your sex'? 'Sir, you are the most discerning of yours.'" The letter she writes to Poe, some time in April 1846, says: "It is too great a distinction, conferred by a hand of too liberal generosity. I wish for my own sake I were worthy of it." She also, quite famously, refers to the English response to "The Raven," saying it has "produced a sensation, a 'fit horror'... Some of my friends are taken by the fear of it and some by the music. I hear of persons haunted by the 'Nevermore,' and one acquaintance of mine who has the misfortune of possessing a 'bust of Pallas' never can bear to look at it in the twilight." She also notes her fascination with Poe's tale "The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar" (one of my favorites too!). Poe was proud of her response and is reported to have read it aloud to guests at his Fordham cottage some time that summer.

* I will refer to her as "Barrett" throughout. At the time this correspondence take place, she was not yet married to Robert Browning.

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.

A Fable for James Russell Lowell

It was on this day in 1819 that James Russell Lowell was born. Over the next 72 years, he would lead a diverse life — as a professor, a poet, an editor, a critic, an ambassador, and as an ardent abolitionist. His most famous connection to Poe comes from his book-length satirical poem A Fable for Critics,* in which he writes:

There comes Poe with his Raven, like Barnaby Rudge,
Three fifths of him genius and two fifths sheer fudge,
Who talks like a book of iambs and pentameters,
In a way to make people of common sense damn metres,
Who has written some things quite the best of their kind,
But the heart somehow seems all squeezed out by the mind,
Who — But hey-day! What's this? Messieurs [Cornelius] Mathews and Poe,
You mustn't fling mud-balls at Longfellow so (But, more on him in a few days)...

Poe did not leave this mention unanswered. He reviewed A Fable for Critics (rather late) in March 1849 for the Southern Literary Messenger. Unfortunately, Poe proves Lowell's characterization to be accurate by spending far too much time writing about the Fable's structure and poetic meter: "Mr. L. should not have meddled with the anapaestic [sic] rhythm; it is exceedingly awkward in the hands of one who knows nothing about it and who will persist in fancying that he can write it by ear." He also spends too much time judging Lowell's abolitionism rather than looking at the poem independently. Reading the review, I keep thinking, "Lighten up, Poe! It's a joke!" Having read A Fable for Critics, I have to say, I always laugh like crazy, regardless of what meter he used — though I'd agree with Poe that Lowell's attempt at a "plot" is weak.

It's easy to assume from this information that Lowell hated Poe and Poe hated Lowell. But, as is often the case, things are quite a bit more complicated than that.

Poe actually liked Lowell's poetry. For one example, well before Lowell's potshot against him, Poe wrote that he was surprised Rufus Griswold didn't dedicate more space to Lowell in the ground-breaking anthology The Poets and Poetry of America in 1842 (Griswold actually gave Lowell less space by the 1851 edition). A bit earlier, in the December 1841 issue of Graham's Magazine, Poe ranked Lowell to "at least the second or third place among the poets of America. We say this on account of the vigor of his imagination — a faculty to be first considered in all criticism upon poetry" (though, even here, he notes that Lowell doesn't quite have an ear for meter).

I believe Poe appreciated Lowell because of similar aesthetic theories (very disparate from Lowell's close friend Longfellow's theories, but more on that in an upcoming entry). Besides the spirits and sadness in some of Lowell's works which Poe undoubtedly appreciated, Lowell placed the aesthetic beauty of a poem as its foremost quality. He also believed that the poet held a special role because he had an insight that the general population lacked. Poe must have agreed; he once wrote, a writer must "explain the unexplainable."

Lowell and Poe had a falling out for a couple of reasons. For one, Lowell was a New Englander (Elmwood, at right, is where he lived the majority of his life, from birth to death, in Cambridge, MA) and, like many New Englanders, was an abolitionist — a quick turn-off to Southerners like Poe ("Out from the land of bondage 'tis decreed our slaves shall go," Lowell wrote in the poem "On the Capture of Fugitive Slaves Near Washington" in 1845). Additionally, Lowell was sucked into that dreaded idea that poetry should teach lessons (like Longfellow believed) or that poetry could be used for social reform (like Emerson and the Transcendentalists believed). Poe hated both didacticism and Transcendentalism, and the snot-nosed Boston literary culture that embraced Emerson, Longfellow, and Lowell.

This dislike of New England came to a head in the mid-1840s, when Poe paid special critical attention to Lowell's good friend and neighbor Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Too endeared by Longfellow to look at Poe's criticism objectively, he took his neighbor's side in the conflict. And that endearment is what led to the quote from A Fable for Critics above.

Even amidst the beginnings of the "Longfellow War," however, in 1843 Lowell was the first to publish Poe's now-famous story "The Tell-Tale Heart" in his short-lived journal Pioneer. The journal only lasted three issues and, upon its cancellation, Poe lamented it as "a most severe blow to the cause—the cause of a Pure Taste." In fact, the prospectus for the Pioneer sounds strikingly like the prospectus for Poe's dream-project The Stylus. Around this time, Lowell also referred to Poe as having "that indescribable something which men have agreed to call genius.” Lowell later helped Poe find his way to a role at the Broadway Journal because of his connection to a very good friend named Charles Frederick Briggs (to whom A Fable for Critics was dedicated). Shortly after, Lowell helped set-up a prestigious speaking engagement for Poe in Boston in late 1845. Of course, Poe's "Messenger Star" poem turned out to be... well, that will be a post for another day, perhaps.

In the meantime — if I haven't bored you too much already — here's a great example of Lowell's more typical poetry, an excerpt from "To the Dandelion":

Dear common flower, that grow'st beside the way,
Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold,
First pledge of blithesome May,
Which children pluck, and, full of pride, uphold,
High-hearted buccaneers, o'erjoyed that they
An Eldorado in the grass have found.

Or, perhaps, an excerpt from "The Syrens":

The sea is lonely, the sea is dreary,
The sea is restless and uneasy;
Thou seekest quiet, thou art weary,
Wandering thou knowest not whither;—
Our little isle is green and breezy,
Come and rest thee! O come hither!
Come to this peaceful home of ours
Where evermore
The low west-wind creeps panting up the shore
To be at rest among the flowers;
Full of rest, the green moss lifts,
As the dark waves of the sea
Draw in and out of rocky rifts,
Calling solemnly to thee
With voice deep and hollow,—
"To the shore
Follow! O follow!
To be at rest forevermore!
For evermore!"

Happy birthday, James Russell Lowell.*

Above: Your fearless blogger paying his respects at the grave of James Russell Lowell, Mount Auburn Cemetery

* I had difficulty finding a full version of the Fable online so I started transposing it from an 1888 edition I own (you're welcome).

**My apologies for the extra-long entry. Poe and Lowell intertwine so much and, from there, branch out into so many other stories; the number of tags on this post has to be a record-breaker. And, of course, I am a big fan of Lowell (not just Poe)!

Poe and The Broadway Journal

Still reeling from the success of his poem "The Raven," Edgar A. Poe signed into a business partnership on February 21, 1845, as one-third owner of the New York periodical, The Broadway Journal. His partners were John Bisco and Charles Frederick Briggs (a good friend, by the way, of James Russell Lowell - if you're interested in him, come back here tomorrow). The New York-based publication was brand new when Poe signed his year-long contract which also entitled him to one-third of all profits.

Briggs was well-known as the author of the two-volume romp through New York, The Adventures of Harry Franco (1839). He was headstrong and intended to keep his fingers tightly around his editorial duties, but he met his match in Poe. By then the "tomahawk" criticism of Poe was well-known, and Briggs thought it was too much. Partly inspired by Poe's accusations against Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Briggs gave up on the Broadway Journal by June 1845. And then there were two.

Bisco didn't last much longer. He wasn't the editorial type, but more of a businessman. Poe really could have used his expertise but, by October, Bisco sold his part ownership to Poe for $50. Poe paid him using a loan from, of all people, the newspaper powerhouse Horace Greeley.

Thus, by October 1845, Poe was the sole proprietor and editor of his very own journal. It was the closest he ever got to launching his dream project, The Stylus. With full editorial control, Poe was able to continue his special brand of literary criticism amidst the "puffers" of the time without a boss giving him a hard time for it. Of course, his partners had abandoned ship for a reason: the Broadway Journal never gained its financial footing, and it was sinking. Poe continued as best he could but the market was flooded with competing magazines and periodicals. The final issue was dated January 3, 1846.

Poe never really abandoned his hope for a new journal, however. To inherit a journal is one thing, but to create one in his image was something entirely different. The Stylus, Poe believed, would be superior to the competition in every way, not just in content and scope, but also in its physical presentation: Poe even detailed the high quality paper he wanted to use. Alas, The Stylus, never came to be, and his brief stint as sole owner and editor of the Broadway Journal was as close as he ever got.

The Death of the Broadway Journal / The Birth of The Stylus

On January 3, 1846, the final issue of the Broadway Journal was issued in New York. Edgar Poe had been its editor and sole proprietor for its final few issues after his partners, Bisco and Briggs, backed away from the project. It was the only journal that Poe ever owned, though it did not deter him from what was arguably the biggest goal in his life: producing his own journal, The Stylus.

Reasons for the failure of the Broadway Journal are manifold and the truth is that Poe inherited a journal which was already struggling in a periodical-saturated market. It's hard to blame him for its demise (though, feel free to argue by leaving a comment to this entry).

It is tempting, however, to speculate on Poe's skills as a publisher. First and foremost, Poe was not a businessperson and we certainly can't remember him as one (much of his business moves were guided by his personal adviser and mother-in-law Maria Clemm, and it would be an interesting debate to discuss whether she was a help or a hamper). Assuming Poe was able to bring in a partner to The Stylus, which isn't unlikely considering the many he courted to aid him in the endeavor (including Thomas Holley Chivers), I would argue that Poe would have brought a hefty journal into the world.

He seems to have proven himself in his many editorial roles. With Graham's Magazine in Philadelphia, for example, he often corresponded with contributors and potential contributors; he solicited for new material; he engaged in finding illustrations; he even helped contributors track down money that they were owed from his boss, George R. Graham, who very often was behind in paying his bills for one reason or another. Of course, as a critic, Poe had established himself as a substantial "name" bordering on celebrity status - his contributions of literary reviews alone would have driven many subscribers to his doorstep.

More than this, I like to believe that Poe was able to dig deep into all the nitty-gritty details of publisher. Presumably, he knew about illustrations and woodcuts and the like. He knew about ink, publishing machinery, distributing to subscribers, and setting type (a very basic knowledge would have been needed for him to write his hilarious story "X-ing a Paragrab"). Certainly, by the end of the Broadway Journal, he was a one-man show who must have been involved with all of these aspects.

It's certainly fun to think what The Stylus might have been, had it ever come to fruition. What really would have made its success such a challenge, however, was how high Poe was aiming. Purposely avoiding the tendency to cater to the mainstream "unwashed masses" of readers, The Stylus would have been high brow, to say the least. Poe's goal was nothing less than advancing the state of American letters to create a higher quality literary canon on this side of the pond. In a world where gift-books thrived, and the coming "feminine fifties" promoting sappy poetry about flowers and the like, The Stylus would have struggled to find an audience and, I think, would ultimately have disappeared as fast as the countless other journals that never thrived in the 19th century.

Why was The Stylus never born? My guess is that it would have been, had Poe not died in October 1849.