In Memoriam: Thomas Holley Chivers

On December 18, 1858, the doctor/poet Thomas Holley Chivers died at the age of 49. Both Edgar Poe and Dr. Chivers were born in 1809 (though it seems little attention has been paid to Chivers's bicentennial, outside his home state of Georgia). Later in Poe's life, Chivers became one of his closest confidantes and an almost-partner for The Stylus. After Poe's death, he became one of his staunchest defenders — though he quickly turned eccentric.

Chivers wrote a memorial poem to Poe as well as a biography, Life of Poe, which was excessively praising of his friend. However, he also included strange accusations that most of Poe's work was a rip-off of his own. Chivers particularly noted "The Raven" and claimed he inspired the refrain "nevermore." Certainly, both poets had similar themes in their stories — though, while Poe suffered the loss of many women he loved (including Jane Stanard and his wife Virginia), the themes of loss in Chivers's poetry was inspired by the loss of his children.

Chivers married his16-year old first-cousin in 1827. An interloping uncle claimed that Chivers was abusive to his wife (it is unclear if this is true) and she left him before their daughter was born. A Georgia court eventually invalidated his first marriage because she had abandoned him for over five years. He soon remarried, this time to a woman from Massachusetts and, with her, Chivers had four children — however, each died off in childhood one by one. Much of his poetry focuses on the death of his children, oftentimes discussing their ascension to heaven. Like Poe, Chivers believed poems should be short but, very unlike Poe, he also believed poetry was a gift from God and that poems were written through divine inspiration.

The problem with Chivers's poetry is that it's all just a bit much. His images are over-the-top, his Poe-like repetition, assonance and internal rhyme unchecked by moderation. Parts of his poems are amazing — but few poems in their entirety are tolerable. This may have been what inspired Poe to call Chivers "one of the best and one of the worst poets in America." Much of his poetry is imitative, which led to one anonymous reviewer (possibly Evert Augustus Duyckinck) to break him down as 30% Percy Bysshe Shelley, 20% Poe, 20% "mild idiocy," 10% "gibbering idiocy," 10% "raving mania" and 10% "sweetness and originality." Perhaps, but Chivers's poetry is worth attempting to read.

Struck with sudden illness, Chivers wrote his will shortly before his death in 1858. His last words were, "All is perfect peace with me." In his will, he left one dollar for his first wife and their daughter. He was buried, at his request, under his front doorstep (his home was named Villa Allegra, after his favorite daughter) before later being re-interred in a more traditional cemetery.

Rest in peace, Dr. Chivers.

*There seems to be only one known photo of Chivers, and all images of him are some variation of the original. Having already used that image in an earlier post, I presume it appropriate to offer an alternative: his grave in Decatur Cemetery, courtesy of Flickr.

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.

The Kentucky Tragedy

On November 7, 1825, in Frankfort, Kentucky, an attorney named Jereboam O. Beauchamp fatally stabbed politician Solomon P. Sharp. Beauchamp had been an admirer of Sharp until he heard that the focus of his admiration had allegedly fathered an illegitimate child with Anna Cooke, though Sharp denied paternity of the stillborn child. Beauchamp and Cooke became engaged, but Cooke convinced him to kill Sharp as a condition of marriage. He agreed, and they married in June 1824.

Beauchamp kept his end of the bargain, and stabbed Sharp to death. Only four days later, he was caught and, after a trial proved his guilt, he was sentenced to death by hanging. Cooke attempted to kill herself with laudanum to show her commitment to her husband. Her attempt failed. Awaiting execution shortly after, Beauchamp was visited by his wife in his cell; she concealed a knife on her visit. The two attempted a suicide pact. Beauchamp's jailers found him mid-stab, and rushed him to the gallows so that his conviction be carried through. He became the first person legally executed in the commonwealth of Kentucky. She died shortly after, and the two were buried in the same coffin, positioned in an eternal embrace.

The story became a scandalous national headline, earning the nickname "The Kentucky Tragedy."

Edgar Poe fictionalized the event in his only play, Politian, in November 1835. Poe’s play, left incomplete and never performed, reinvented the true event in the vein of a Greek tragedy. Thomas Holley Chivers also reinvented the true story as a piece of fiction, in his play Conrad and Eudora. William Gilmore Simms and Robert Penn Warren also used the event for inspiration.

Politian is one of Poe's many forgotten works. One contemporary reviewer noted that Poe had great talent as a writer but it was "wasted on trifles." But, his choice to base a story on true crime would be revisited in "The Mystery of Marie Roget," and he would continuously take real-life inspiration for most of his fiction.

*The engraving above dates to about 1835. Yes, this event earned so much widespread attention, it was being turned into artwork.

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.)

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."

6000 years ago

In a letter dated July 10, 1844, to friend and fellow poet Thomas Holley Chivers, Poe gave one of his most often quoted, profound-sounding-yet-elusive comments. He wrote: "Man is now only more active — not more happy — nor more wise, than he was 6000 years ago."

Some, who put little effort into it, read this as Poe's admission that he's not happy and is, perhaps, depressed. Such a juvenile interpretation strips the quote of its depth. The "active" nature of humanity Poe refers to refers to the changing cultural climate: the boom in industry, the sudden influx of writers and magazines, the movement from agrarian communities to urban centers, the growth of crime, etc. Does any of that stuff make mankind any happier or wiser?

Is it still true today? Our "activity" is now internet-driven. We make "friends" through Facebook, have "conversations" through e-mail, "meet" people through webcast conferences, and believe that any knowledge worth knowing is available for free on any given web page. Are we happier or wiser today?

Feel free to interpret in the comments.

Emerson, Transcendentalism, and Poe

Ralph Waldo Emerson has become the figurehead of American Transcendentalism. Even in his lifetime, he was the face of the movement, even though several others were important participants; many of those names are not commonly known today (anyone remember Orestes Brownson, Christopher Pearse Cranch, Frederick Henry Hedge, Sylvester Judd, Jones Very...?). Emerson was considered to be one of the greatest minds of the 19th century. However, when he died on April 27, 1882, not much of that mind was left.

Emerson suffered from some form of dementia, speculated by some to be Alzheimer's. He certainly had aphasia — his memory could no longer find the words for simple objects and concepts. When he attended the funeral of his good friend Henry Wadsworth Longfellow only a month before his own death, Emerson reportedly said something to the effect of: "Today we bury a great man. I do not remember his name." Emerson was also forgetting his own name. When asked how he felt around this time, he once answered: ""Quite well; I have lost my mental faculties, but am perfectly well."

These final years of Emerson aren't often discussed.* Of course, Edgar A. Poe never knew Emerson at this late stage in his life. Poe knew of Emerson when he was in his prime. Poe, just like people today, saw Emerson as the icon of Transcendentalism - and that made him a target.

Poe's utter dislike of Transcendentalism was no secret (he once took a swipe at Nathaniel Hawthorne, who he otherwise respected, simply for living in Concord, Massachusetts — the seat of the movement), and his particular disgust with Emerson was equally well-known. Poe chided the Concord Sage for writing that was purposely difficult to understand — "mysticism for mysticism's sake," as Poe referred to it. Poe also identified (and he was a bit right) that Emerson was "little more than a respectful imitation of [Thomas] Carlyle."

Overall, Transcendentalism and its avowed idealism didn't make sense to Poe (nor does it make sense to most high schoolers introduced to it). As he wrote, "They could not define their own position & cannot be expected that I can define them exactly." However, he noted that their philosophy wasn't inherently bad. "You mistake me in supposing I dislike the transcendentalists," he wrote to friend Thomas Holley Chivers. "It is only the pretenders and sophists among them." When the Transcendental community at Brook Farm began publishing their journal, The Harbinger, to promote their worldview, Poe wrote it was "conducted by an assemblage of well-read persons who mean no harm—and who, perhaps, can do no less." True enough.

Eventually, Poe looped all of the Boston area with Transcendentalism (and a general Longfellow-like lack of originality). So, feel free to blame Emerson for at least part of Poe's distaste for Boston in his adult years. Next month (May 25), I'll follow up with a battle of poetry, Emerson vs. Poe.

Perhaps ironically, today, the City of Boston dedicates "Edgar Allan Poe Square" at the intersection of Charles St. and Boylston St. near his original birthplace, directly across from the Boston Common. I'm sure the ceremony was scheduled on the anniversary of Emerson's death by mere coincidence.

*I am of the opinion that Emersonians have, for years, been cleaning up his image. Hiding his struggle with dimentia - or the fact that he was not perfect - does not help him. It would be better to humanize him, rather than try to deify him.

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.