Text: Anonymous, “Some Memories of Poe,” Richmond Dispatch (Richmond, VA), whole no. 13,581, February 10, 1895, p. 2, cols. 1-3

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THE WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE. Newly Collected and Edited, with A Memoir, Critical Introductions, and Notes. By Edmund Clarence Steadman [[Stedman]] and George Edward Woodberry. The Illustrations by Albert Edward Sterner. In Ten Volumes. Volume I. Chicago: Stone Kimball. 1894.

This is the initial volume of the long-promised “definitive” edition of Poe's works. It bears the dedicatory: “In honor of the University of Virginia, this edition of the works of her distinguished son is dedicated.” The frontispiece is a mezzotint engraving by Sartain, based on the original oil painting, known as the Osgood portrait, which was, we believe, for some time in the keeping of the late Dr. George: H. Moore, of the Lennox Library, another engraving of which was published in 1885, with “The Defence Poe,” by Dr. John J. Moran, the Attending physician at Poe's death. That painting has never been regarded as a faithful portrait, and it is to be regretted that a copy of it should have been chosen for this prominent position, instead of an engraving of what is known as the “Steadman [[Stedman]] portrait,” taken from a daguerreotype from life, and a faithful likeness of the man. An excellent engraving of this last-mentioned portrait was published with the biography of Professor Woodberry in the “American Men of Letters Series” in 1885.

Since the three-volume edition of Poe's works published and copy-righted in 1850, within a year of his death, and which was prepared under the editorial care of R. W. Griswold, Poe's self-constituted “literary executor,” no attempt has been made to give a critical, scholarly publication of the text of Poe's complete productions. The editors of this new edition say in their introduction, that “Poe's fame has spread as widely through the world as that of any imaginative author of America; and longer neglect of the of America; and would longer be discreditable state of his text that among us, now to men by law into the of letters his works have passed With this common property present edition has been of mankind. conviction, the ascertain and in order to and complete a undertaken establish as writings as the accurate text of his permanent state of the have been corrected; sources now permits.” “Hundreds of errors that the editors cannot hope and, though accumulated faults all the original and spared no have been whatever was susceptible amended, they have pains to verify of any Professor Woodberry, doubt.”

The memoir by Professor Woodberry, which follows the dedication, is disappointing and unsatisfactory. It occupies but 85 pages of the volume, and is mainly an abridgement or condensation of the biography, by the same author above referred to, published in the “American Men of Letters” series. It cannot take the place of that narrative, which must still stand as the best life of Poe yet published, though, having conceded this much, one must yet the conviction that “the biography of Poe is, perhaps, yet to be written.” For the bulk of what is new in the memoir, Professor Woodberry seems to be indebted to such of Poe's papers as were preserved by Dr. Griswold, to whom he has had access since the death of Dr. Moore.

EARLY LIFE IN RICHMOND.

The following extract (pages 4 to 11) refers to Poe's early life in Richmond. After brief reference to his parentage and birth at Boston January 19, 1809, the author says:

“Mrs. Poe joined her old friends of the southern circuit, and after the birth of her third child, Rosalie, she fell into decline. Early in the winter in 1811, at Richmond, the family became objects of charity: the actors played twice benefit, addressing their card of advertisement ‘To the Humane,’ and, on December 8th the mother died, leaving three young children destitute. William was sent to his father's kindred in Baltimore; Rosalie was received into the family of Mrs. MacKenzie, and Edgar into that of Mrs. Allan, both of Richmond.

“The change of life and prospect thus secured for Edgar was so great that it might seem worthy of some good fairy. The child of the “poor players, before whom, notwithstanding his mother's devotion, there could have been for his youthful years only the necessary circumstances of a continual struggle with poverty in the midst of a wandering life, was given a place privileged with fortune, education, and social breeding, where he should grow to manhood. Mrs. Allan, who was a woman of 25 years, showed him while she lived true affection, and his precocity and beauty as a child won the unwilling heart of her husband so that he soon took pride in the boy to whom he had given his name. Mr. John Allan was by birth a Scotchman, and by trade a tobacco merchant, and had already acquired wealth and social position in Richmond. He was, it would appear, of a somewhat hard nature, even cold, perhaps, in affection; not unjust or sparing in his affection; but he was not unjust or sparing in his treatment of the adopted child. Edgar brought up as a son of the house. He was early sent to a private school kept by an old-fashioned dame. When 6 years old he could read, draw, and dance; he had a talent for declamation, and is remembered standing between the doors of some Richmond drawing-room and reciting from the ‘Lay of the Last Minstrel’ to a large company in a sweet voice and with clear enunciation. It is related also that Mr. Allan taught the boy to stand up in a chair at dessert and pledge the health of the company, which he did with roguish grace. He wore dark curls and had brilliant eyes, and those who remembered him in Richmond or at the White Sulphur Springs, where the family passed the summers, spoke of the pretty figure he made with his pony and dogs and his vivacious ways.

TAKEN ABROAD.

“In the summer of 1815 Mr. Allan took his family abroad for a long stay, and he placed Edgar at the Manor House School, at Stoke Newington, near London, under Dr. Bransby; but the homelessness of such a life was relieved by weekly Sunday visits which the child made to the Allans, who lived at no great distance, and by the vacations, which he spent with them in travelling, thus seeing, according to his own statement, nearly all parts of the United Kingdom. These five years of English school-days have left little record of themselves, though in later life he sketched the outward aspects of the house and grounds and drew a portrait of the head-master. He was inducted into the manly sports, matter of course, and began to be as a athletic; he learned to speak French and construe easy Latin, and obtained a knowledge of history and literature said to have been beyond his years; and he showed the scholarly spirit which is noticeable in every account of his youth. Dr. Bransby appears to have remembered most clearly the extravagant amount of his pocket-money. ‘I liked the boy,’ he said: “poor fellow, his parents spoiled him.’ English school-life, in early years, always seems a kind of orphanage; but such as it was, the boy had, perhaps, less to complain of than others. In August, 1829, the Allans returned to Richmond, where they resided during Poe's later school-days on north Fifth street till their removal, in 1825, to the estate on the corner of Fifth and Main streets. Here Poe could have lived but a few months, and the place first-mentioned must be regarded as his Richmond home.

RICHMOND SCHOOLMASTERS.

“He was immediately put to school again, with Master Joseph H. Clarke, an Irishman from Trinity College, Dublin. He continued his French and classical studies, and acquired proficiency in capping Latin verses and composing English He had already shown his poetic instinct, and the Master recalled manuscript volume of verses addressed to the little girls of Richmond which Mr. Allan submitted to his judgment with a view to publication; but it is not unlikely that the description of the contents is inaccurate. The lad was a leader of the school in debates, verse-contests, and athletic games, and made an impression his mates both by his character and attainments. At the age of 15 he upon began his military career as Volunteers — as lieutenant of the Richmond Junior his name and rank from that youthful appears from communications signed with body of soldiers to the Governor Council which still exist in and the executive archives of Virginia. It was just before this incident Master that Master Clarke gave way to William Burk, and was addressed on his [column 2:] leave-taking by the young poet in an English ode.

MR. ANDREW JOHNSTON'S RECOLLECTIONS.

“A younger member of the school, Mr. Andrew Johnston, describes the trials of Poe in these school-days more distinctly:

“‘Poe was a much more advanced scholar than any of us; but there was no other class for him — that being the highest — and he had nothing to do, or but little, to keep his headship of the class. I dare say he liked it well, for he was fond of desultory reading, and even then wrote verses, very clever for a boy of his years, and sometimes satirical. We all recognized and admired his great and varied talents, and were proud of him as the most distinguished schoolboy of the town. At that time, Poe was slight in person and figure, but well made, active, sinewy, and graceful. In athletic exercises he was foremost: especially, he was the best, the most daring, and most enduring swimmer that I ever saw in the water. When about sixteen years old, he performed his well-known feat of swimming from Richmond to Warwick, a distance of five or six miles. He was accompanied by two boats, and it took him several hours to accomplish the task, the tide changing during the time. In dress he was neat but not foppish. His disposition was amiable, and his manners pleasant and courteous.’

“Colonel John Preston, also a younger school-fellow, adds that, notwithstanding, Poe was not the master spirit or favorite among the boys, partly because he was self-willed, capricious, inclined to be imperious, and, though of generous impulses, not steadily kind or even amiable, and partly because his mates remembered that he was born of the players and dependent on Mr. Allan's bounty. In these reminiscences, his ardent temperament, which in anger was furious, and the habitual reserve of his nature, together with his ambitious talent and its intellectual and poetic bent, are most prominent. He stood somewhat aloof from all, fond of admiration, but jealous of his place; if he loved any, it was Sully, a nephew of the artist, and also with a touch of the sensibilities of genius. No one seemed to be intimate with him. Impetuous, self-willed, defiant, proud of his powers, and fond of their successful display, he does not appear to have been unamiable or morose, though he was resentful and probably lonely.

A ROMANTIC EPISODE.

A single romantic episode of the time, which, however, should not be allowed to cast too heavy a shadow upon his home, where he received probably more affectionate [page 9:] care than he was aware of, is related by Mrs. Whitman, to whom he told it: —

“While at the academy in Richmond, he one day accompanied a schoolmate to his home, where he saw for the first time Mrs. H —— S —— , the mother of his young friend. This lady, on entering the room, took his hand and spoke some gentle and gracious words of welcome, which so penetrated the sensitive heart of the orphan boy as to deprive him of the power of speech, and for a time almost of consciousness itself. He returned home in a dream, with but one thought, one hope in life — to hear again the sweet and gracious words that had made the desolate world so beautiful to him, and filled his lonely heart with the oppression of a new joy. This lady afterwards became the confidant of all his boyish sorrows, and hers was the one redeeming influence that saved and guided him in the earlier days of his turbulent and passionate youth. After the visitation of strange and peculiar sorrows she died, and for months after her decease it was his habit to visit nightly the cemetery where the object of his boyish idolatry lay entombed. The thought of her — sleeping there in her loneliness — filled his heart with a profound, incommunicable sorrow. When the nights were very dreary and cold, when the autumnal rains fell and the winds wailed mournfully over the graves, he lingered longest and came away most regretfully.”

THE LENORE LEGENDS.

This is the earliest of the Lenore legends. The lady, Mrs. Jane Stith Stanard, died April 28, 1824, at the age of thirty-one years. It was, perhaps, in this experience of death, when the boy was fifteen years of age, that the spirit of brooding over the grave first fell upon him. The peculiar melancholy of Poe, in presence of the death of woman, cannot be traced further to an original motive; and it is reasonable to believe that something, embalmed in this romantic memory, occurred in his heart and life, and vitally awakened his imagination.

This event belongs in the last year of his school life. He studied another year under excellent tutors, and on Feb. 14, 1826, he matriculated at the University of Virginia, entering the schools of ancient and modern languages. He remained until December 15, when the session closed; and he obtained distinction in his final examinations in Latin and French. He had also attended classes in Greek, Spanish, and Italian, and his scholarship was well spoken of by his teachers. In his relations with the University authorities he had a clear record. His private life was that of a student with a careless reputation. He joined with others in the amusements natural to the time. He was more inclined to gambling than drinking, but exhibited in both diversions a peculiar recklessness, indicative of an excitable temperament rather than of pleasure in his cups or the cards. “Poe's passion for strong drink,” says one of his fellow-students, “was as marked and as peculiar as that for cards. It was not the taste of the beverage that influenced him; without a sip or smack of the mouth he would seize a full glass, without sugar or water, and send it home at a single gulp. This frequently used him up; but, if not, he rarely returned to the charge.” He is said to have lost caste with the more aristocratic of his mates by his card-playing. One student remembered hearing him express regret for his extravagance and waste of money during the session, just as he was about to leave for Richmond. He was known to all, however, for other tastes. He had decorated his room, No. 13 West Range, with large charcoal sketches copied from an illustrated edition of Byron, and here he would relate to his companions some tale, or declaim some poem, of his invention. He remained solitary and reserved, and found pleasure in tramping amid the wild scenes of the neighboring countr5% His spirit had declared itself, both in character and talent; and when Mr. Allan came down to inquire into affairs, toward the close of the session, he found the youth of seventeen with a mind and resolution of his own, and with qualities so blended in him that his right guardianship might have taxed a far wiser hand and a more delicate and tender touch. Mr. Allan flatly refused to honor the youth's gambling debts, amounting to twenty-five hundred dollars; and, on his return to Richmond, placed him in the counting-room, doubtless meaning that he should follow a commercial career. It was, perhaps, only an added irritation to find that the young lady. Miss Sarah Elmira Royster, who was the first mistress of his affections, and had been the object of his sketches, letters, and verse, was married to another.

LAST DAYS IN RICHMOND.

Touching Poe's last days in Richmond (pages 84 to 87), Professor Woodberry says:

“He stayed at the Madison Tavern, a once fashionable but then decayed hotel, and he visited much among his acquaintances, by whom he was well received, and, indeed, lionized. At Duncan's Lodge, especially, the residence of the Mackenzies, who had adopted his sister Rosalie, he was made at home; and at Robert Sully's, the artist whom he had befriended in his early schooldays, and at Mrs. Talley's, he passed many of those hours which he said were the happiest he had known for years. To Miss Susan Archer Talley, now Mrs. Weiss, who then looked on Poe with the romantic interest of a young poetess as well as with a woman's sympathy with sadness so confessed as his, is due the most life-like and detailed portrait of him that exists. Erect in stature, cold, impassive, almost haughty in manner, soberly and fastidiously clad in black, to a stranger's eye he wore a look of distinction rather than beauty; on nearer approach one was more struck by the strongly marked head, with the broad brow, the black curly hair brushed back, the pallid, careworn, and in repose the somewhat haggard features, while beneath the concealment of a short black mustache one saw the slight habitual contraction of the mouth and occasionally the quick, almost imperceptible curl of the upper lip in scorn — a sneer, it is said, that was easily excited; but the physical fascination of the man was felt, at last, to lie in his eyes, large, jet-black, with a steel-gray iris, clear as crystal, restless, ever expanding and contracting as, responsive with intelligence and emotion, they bent their full, open, steady, unshrinking gaze from under the long black lashes that shaded them. On meeting his friends Poe's face would brighten with pleasure, his features lost the worn look and his reserve its coldness. To men he was cordial, to women he showed a deference that seems always to have suggested a reminiscence of chivalry; and in society with the young he forgot his melancholy, listened with amusement, or joined in their repartees with evident pleasure, though he would soon leave them for a seat in the portico, or a walk in the [column ??:] grounds with a single friend. To the eyes of his young girlish friend he seemed invariably cheerful, and often even playful in mood. Once only was he noticeably cast down; it was when visiting the old deserted Mayo place, called The Hermitage, where he used to go frequently in his youth, and the scene was so picturesque that it is worth giving at length.

THE LOVERS’ SEAT.

“On reaching the place our party separated, and Poe and myself strolled slowly about the grounds. I observed that he was unusually silent and preoccupied, and, attributing it to the influence of memories associated with the place, forbore to interrupt him. He passed slowly by the mossy bench called the ‘lovers’ seat,” beneath two aged trees, and remarked, as we turned toward the garden, “There used to be white violets here.” Searching amid the tangled wilderness of shrubs, we found a few late blossoms, some of which he placed carefully between the leaves of a notebook. Entering the deserted house, he passed from room to room with a grave, abstracted look, and removed his hat, as if involuntarily, on entering the saloon, where in old times many a brilliant company had assembled. Seated in one of the deep windows, over which now grew masses of ivy, his memory must have borne him back to former scenes, for he repeated the familiar lines of Moore: —

and paused, with the first expression of real sadness that I had ever seen on his face. The light of the setting sun shone through the drooping ivy-boughs into the ghostly room; and the tattered and mildewed paper-hangings, with their faded tracery of rose-garlands, waved fitfully in the autumn breeze. An inexpressibly eerie feeling came over me, which I can even now recall, and as I stood there, my old childish idea of the poet as a spirit of mingled light and darkness recurred strongly to my imagination.’”

He spent much of his time with Mrs. Shelton, and finally asked her to marry him, and was, it must be believed from the correspondence, accepted. She was older than he, a plain woman, and wealthy. Poe got the wedding ring, and after his death she wore mourning for him. At the last moment, he still wavered when he thought of “Annie,” who was evidently the nearest to him of all, except Mrs. Clemm, — but that was impossible. He was in doubt whether to have Mrs. Clemm come on to Richmond, or to go himself and bring her. He decided on the latter course, and on Sunday, as is conjectured, September 30, or else on the following day, he left his friends in Richmond, and went on the boat sober and cheerful. After reaching Baltimore, it is said that he took the train to Philadelphia, but was brought back, being in the wrong car, from Havre de Grace in a state of stupor. It is also said that he dined with some old military friends, became intoxicated, and was captured by politicians, who kept him stupefied, and made him vote at several booths on Wednesday, election day. All that is known is that, being then partially intoxicated, he called upon his friend, Dr. Brooks, on an afternoon, and, not finding him, went away; and that on Wednesday, October 3, about noon, he was recognized at a rum shop used as a voting-place, — Ryan's Fourth Ward Polls, — and on his saying that he was acquainted with Dr. Snodgrass, word was sent to that gentleman, who had him taken to the Washington Hospital. He was admitted at five o’clock, and word was sent to his relatives, who attended to his needs. He remained, except for a brief interval, in delirium; and on Sunday, Oct. 7, 1849, at about five o’clock in the morning, he died. The funeral was taken charge of by his relatives, and took place the next day. Five persons, including the officiating minister, followed his body to the grave.”

THE WINNOW OF TIME.

The critical introduction to the tales by Mr. Steadman [[Stedman]] is an admirable piece of work. It closes (pages 120-121) as follows:

“The winnow of time, no less, has set apart the writings of Poe from almost the entire yield of those American contemporaries whose lives were not prolonged far beyond his own. These Tales, which now have been examined with the respect due to works that have taken rank in literary annals, were written by an ill-paid journalist, at a time when his own country depended on foreign spoliation for its imaginative reading. When they show him at his worst, his exigencies justly may be borne in mind; if his style seems often formless and disjointed, it must be remembered that he wrote before the days of Arnold and Pater, of Flaubert, Daudet, and Maupassant. He has left us something of his best; and, when all is said, there are few more beautiful harmonies of thought and sound and color than those presented in “Shadow,” “Silence,” and “Eleonora,” or in the “Masque of the Red Death;” nor is there any such a trilogy, in our own literature, of prose romances taking wings of poetry at their will, as “Ligeia,” “The Assignation,” and the “Fall of the House of Usher.” Through all of these, moreover, there is an impression of some dramatic energy in reserve, which, had it not seemed otherwise to the fates, might have enabled this Numpholeptos to escape from out his “pallid limit” of the moonbeam, — even to

GROTESQUE AND ARABESQUE.

After this follow, rearranged and grouped in natural and pleasing order, eighteen of the “Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque,” eleven of them classed as “Romances of Death,” beginning with “Shadow — A Parable,” and closing with “Silence — A Fable.” The remaining seven tales are classed as “Old-World Romances.”

The paper, type, press-work, and binding are gratifying to those who love a good book, and the four illustrations by Mr. Sterner suggest somewhat the weirdness of Dore. The set is to be completed in ten volumes for $15, and the volumes can be purchased separately at $1.50 each. Volumes II. and III. are announced as “ready,” and we look forward with interest to their reception. A limited large paper edition at $50 for the set was, we understand, all subscribed for before publication.

It is, perhaps, truthful to say that Poe is to-day better known and more widely read on the European continent than any American author, and the “Quantin Edition” of his prose tales, translated by Baudelaire, Paris, 1884, yet remains the handsomest dress with which the writings of an American author have been honored on that continent. We congratulate the editors, publishers, and their patrons on the issue of this edition of the works of that unhappy child of genius.