Text: John H. Ingran, “Edgar Poe and Some of His Friends,” Bookman (London, UK), January 1909, pp. 167-173

[page 167:]

THE allegation that “Edgar Poe had no friends” has long since been refuted. Embittered as his career was by sorrow and misfortune, it was as frequently brightened by the kindness and fidelity of friends. There was a fascination about the poet which attracted and preserved the sympathy of persons of most diverse disposition, and it is useful to know something of these people, as their characters and positions throw sidelights on Poe's:

A man's first and best friend is generally his mother, but Edgar Poe's died ere he had completed his third year, leaving three infants to the world's mercy. The elder boy was taken charge of by his grandfather, General Poe, whose means had been crippled by heavy charges incurred for his country. The two younger children were adopted by strangers in blood; Edgar, by Mr. John Allan, a prosperous, childless Scotchman, who had settled in the United States. His wife did her best to supply the place of the dead mother, and, as Edgar always asserted, was kind and affectionate towards him. So, at times, was the foster-father, but he was of an uncertain and despotic temperament, and Mrs. Allan's conciliatory influence was not always successful in preserving peace at home.

The Allans having been called to Great Britain on business when Edgar was about seven years old, took the boy with them, and placed him in a school at Stoke Newington. Little is known of the orphan's life during his five years at this school, but his school- master remembered him as “a quick and clever boy,” who “would have been a very good boy had he not been spoilt by ... an extravagant amount of pocket-money.”

On returning to Virginia Poe was placed in a classical academy in Richmond, in which city his foster- father carried on business as a tobacco merchant. At the academy Poe mixed with lads of good [column 2:] standing in society and formed friendships with some of them which endured for life. Several of these school- mates have furnished reminiscences of the lad, all of which are most creditable to his character. As a student, an athlete, and a companion he left a favourable impression on the minds of all who remembered him. Colonel Preston says:

that lady, it should be premised, being the daughter of Edmund Randolph, the distinguished statesman, whose love of literature she had inherited. Mrs. Preston did not hesitate to praise the verses, and her gallant son deemed she was the first critic to whom Poe's earliest productions were submitted.

The lad was noted for his swimming feats, some of them having been of a daring and even dangerous character. Colonel Mayo, another of his old schoolfellows, recalls him to mind as a handsome, impetuous boy, defiant, not indisposed to fight, but with great mental powers. He describes a very hazardous adventure shared with him:

Robert Sully, the well-known artist, another school-fellow, referring to a distinguishing trait of the poet's character, his kindness and sympathy for the weak or helpless, says he was one of “the most warm-hearted and generous of men ... he invariably stood by me and took my part. I was a dull boy at learning, and Edgar never grudged time or pains in assisting me. ... As a boy he was frank and generous to a fault.”

Opposite the house where the Allans lived dwelt the parents of Elmira Royster. In due course the adopted son of the one family became acquainted with and enamoured of the daughter of the other. Elmira reciprocated the feelings of the “beautiful boy,” as she described him to me. She thought him somewhat silent and sad in his manner, as became an ardent admirer of Byron, but when beguiled into talking, his conversation was everything that could be desired. The young lady, who numbered fifteen summers, found Edgar “very generous and warm-hearted, and zealous in any cause in which he was interested. He was enthusiastic and impulsive,” and detested everything showing lack of [column 2:] refinement. He was passionately fond of music, “an art which in after life he loved so well,” and was an accomplished artist, sketching in a few minutes a portrait of Miss Royster herself. Love-making went on, and the young people had vowed the usual eternal vows, including a promise of marriage, when Poe was hurried off to the recently founded University of Virginia, which he entered February 14, 1826. He wrote frequently to his lady-love, but Elmira's father, deeming her too young for such things, intercepted the correspondence, and secluded the young lady until she had attained the age of seventeen, when he married her to a Mr. Shelton.

At the University Poe became as great a favourite with his college mates as he had been at the Richmond academy. Several of them furnished me with interesting reminiscences of their gifted companion, who they found “had many noble qualities, but whose disposition was retiring. He had few intimate associates.” Other men at the University with Poe were not impressed so lugubriously by his personality. They recollected adventures he had taken part in where so serious a demeanour would not have been probable. Possibly, he suited his manners to his company, and in “the inhuman dearth of noble natures” adapted himself to the capacity of the ignoble. Surviving officials and professors have assured me he had the reputation of being a sober, quiet, orderly young man, whose behaviour was uniformly that of an intelligent and polished gentleman, and the official records confirm this view, showing that he obtained the highest distinctions the University then bestowed.

His associates at Charlottesville were impressed by his artistic talent and relate how he covered his room there with large crayon copies of illustrations from a volume of Byron's Poems. A characteristic incident of this period is mentioned by a college mate, Mr. Bolling. Whilst he was talking to Poe he noticed Poe continued writing, and when the visitor alluded to this want of politeness, the poet answered that he had been all attention, and proved it by suitable comments, explaining [page 169:] his apparent discourtesy by the remark that he was trying to divide his mind, to carry on a conversation at the same time that he was writing about a totally different subject. The session at the University terminated on December 15, 1826, when, bidding farewell to his many friends there, Poe started for home. The story of his reception may be briefly told. Mr. Allan objected to paying his godson's so-called debts of “honour,” contracted during a twelvemonth's residence amongst a number of extravagant, wealthy young men, and Edgar, in a fit of boyish indignation, left home.

The lad's dearest companion in Richmond was a young fellow of his own age, named Ebenezer Berling. This youth had been accustomed to accompany the poet on his walks and visits, and was his especial confidant. Miss Royster, to whom he was known, has described him to me as an interesting, intelligent youth, but as somewhat inclined to dissipation. After his trouble at home, Poe determined to start for Greece, and proffer his services against the Turks. Berling, who was a widow's only child, agreed to accompany him, but at the last moment succumbed to his mother's entreaties, and backed out of his agreement. Apparently he was in delicate health, as he died soon afterwards. The general peace caused Poe to abandon his project.

It was not till after he left the University Poe learnt that his lady-love was married, and why his impassioned appeals had met with no response. ‘ Instead of dying of a broken heart; he embalmed the memory of his first [column 2:] passion in much melancholy verse, and when, in the course of his wanderings, he visited his natal city, Boston, he published these compositions in his first volume, “Tamerlane and other Poems,” gracing the title-page with this significant motto from Cowper:

Early in 1829 he was recalled to Richmond by news of his foster-mother's dangerous illness. He arrived too late: Mrs. Allan was dead and buried before his return. Mr. Allan seems to have lost any affection he might have had for the prodigal, but could scarcely turn him adrift at such a moment. Eventually he obtained a cadetship for him at West Point Military Academy, where Poe was admitted on July 21, 1830, and remained there till March, 1831. The qualities which had made him a favourite in previous institutions also rendered him one at the Academy, although the severity of the discipline and paucity of the recreation there must have jarred harshly upon one of his erratic temperament. It is recorded “the impression left by Poe in his short career at the Military Academy was highly favourable.” He might have left with honours, but news from home created a revulsion of feeling. Shortly after his wife's death Mr. Allan had married again, and now a son had been born to him. Poe was speedily informed that he was no longer his godfather's heir, and deeming the army was no place for a poor man, he contrived to obtain his dismissal from West Point. [page 170:]

He determined to offer his services to the Poles, who were in revolt against their Russian oppressors, so wrote to Colonel Thayer, superintendent of the Military Academy, requesting to be granted a certificate of “standing” in his class, for presentation to the Marquis de Lafayette, at Paris, a sympathiser with the Poles, and who, as a faithful friend of the cadet's grandfather, General Poe, would doubtless interest himself on the young man's behalf. The capitulation of Warsaw put an end to Poe's military aspirations.

He now turned to literature as a profession. Little is known of his struggles until the autumn of 1833, when he appears at Baltimore as the winner of a One Hundred Dollar Prize offered by a local publication for the best tale sent in. One of the adjudicators, John P. Kennedy, a kind-hearted, wealthy, popular novelist, interested himself in the affairs of the young prizeman, whose funds were at a very low ebb. Kennedy gave him free access to his table, “the use of a horse for exercise, whenever he chose; in fact, brought him up from the very verge of despair.”

Aided by such a friend, one who stood by him and helped him at many a pinch, as Poe gratefully acknowledged, the poet's state was bound to improve. Through Kennedy's introduction and persistent recommendations, the young author became editor of the Southern Literary Messenger; an appointment which began a series of editorial successes for Poe, whereby he changed a number of effete or moribund periodicals into brilliant and profitable publications. He gained some glory and the publishers much pecuniary profit. It is certainly to Poe's credit that his employer, Mr. White, lost no opportunity, after his wayward editor had left, of speaking well of him, although he did injure the poet's future career by urging him to “stick to the department [column 2:] of criticism.” This suggestion of publishers for whom he worked, to “stick” to the castigation of literary small-fry, created numerous unscrupulous enemies for Poe,, and although it did increase the sale of certain periodicals, deprived the public of many priceless poems and stories. Poe made strong friendships with his publishers and editors; and many of them, such as White, Godey, Graham, N. P. Willis, Thompson, and others, were amongst his firmest defenders when, after his death, his honour was assailed by hooligans of the Press. Mr. G. R. Graham's defence of his dead friend was all the more valuable because he had been the employer of Poe's chief assailant, Griswold, and knew the character of both the men; whilst N. P. Willis not only gave Poe such work as he could on his paper, but was always ready to allow him control of its columns for his own uses.

As soon as Poe obtained a regular salary by his editorship he married his cousin Virginia, daughter of his widowed aunt, Mrs. Clemm, with whom he had taken up his abode. No husband was ever more devoted to wife than was the poet to his child-bride, who was only fourteen, and no mother was ever more watchful than was Mrs. Clemm over her nephew. When the poet gave up his post at Richmond, Mrs. Clemm accompanied the husband and wife to New York, and attempted to- lessen the household charges by accepting boarders. Mr. William Gowans, a wealthy bibliopolist, who lodged with the family, has given a very favourable account of Poe's character. He states:

and much more to the same effect.

Many similar testimonials to the goodness, docility, and even sobriety of Poe's character might be cited, but as men who had nothing to do with a literary man's private life have exposed, exaggerated, and dogmatised over the one unfortunate blot upon Poe's escutcheon, and as the poet might well have declared —

it is but fair to allow the accused to answer the charge made against him of intemperance. He wrote on April 1, 1841, to his friend, Dr. Snodgrass:

At the death of his beloved wife Poe's habits degenerated and at intervals he was absolutely insane; driven so by drink, acting upon a highly sensitive mind and upon a frame physically weakened by actual want. With all the strength of body and mind left to him, the [column 2:] unfortunate man strove to resist temptation; as he wrote to a beloved friend:

The number of talented women who befriended Poe, especially during the last few years of his life, is remarkable. Stedman pointed out that towards women Poe had “a kind of chivalry, from his childhood, attached to his conception of them”; and Poe was fond of quoting Puckle's dictum, “A well-bred man never gives himself the liberty to speak ill of women.” Poe always paid deference to women socially, or as a critic, in the latter capacity often rendering them more praise than they were entitled to. He frequently imparted such intensity of language to his expression of gratitude or admiration that his meaning has been misunderstood by those unacquainted with the fervour of his style, but those who know the poet's true nature agree with Mrs. Osgood, that during the last few years of his life his affection was never diverted from his wife. “ I believe she was the only woman whom he ever truly loved,” said the lady, and she refers to his last poetic work, “Annabel Lee,” written in memory of his wife, as a touching proof of his lasting affection for her. “It is utterly false,” wrote Mrs. Clemm, his wife's mother, “ the report of his being faithless or unkind to her. He was devoted to her until the last hour, as all our friends can testify.” “How happy we three were in our beautiful home!” (at Fordham), she exclaimed. Mrs. Osgood was a woman calculated to arouse admiration by her mental and physical charms. “Not to write poetry, [page 172:] not to act it, think it, dream it, be it, is entirely out of her power,” declared Poe, whilst the lady's feelings for,[him may be gauged by her lines in the Broadway Journal, “To ————”

Poe's wife, the innocent Virginia, was as fond of Mrs. Osgood as was the poet, and besought her, when about to travel for her health, to continue to correspond with Edgar, as she deemed her influence had a beneficial effect upon him. Mrs. Osgood treated with scorn the slanders uttered against Poe, and when it is known that a rival for the lady's friendship was Rufus Griswold, it will be understood that they were but too frequently spoken in her hearing.

Of the many ladies who interested themselves in the welfare of Poe and his household, none was less selfish or more helpful than Mrs. Shew. She knew nothing of his literary work or repute, but when told he was in distress, at once gave of her best. From the day she first saw the suffering family, she became their guardian angel. She ministered to the comfort of the dying and the living. The last moments of the fair young wife, who was passing away in consumption, were soothed by her [column 2:] aid. Mrs. Clemm wrote to this good Samaritan: “But for your timely aid, we should have had no last words — no loving messages — no sweet farewells, for she ceased to speak (from weakness) but with her beautiful eyes.” The gratitude with which the poet regarded Marie Louise Shew is displayed in the lines “To M——— L——— S——,” to her to whom he owed —

Poe, especially after his wife's death, could not exist without some kind woman's advice and sympa^jy. Not long after worldly cares had called Mrs. Shew's attention to other spheres of work, the poet's thoughts were attracted by the writings of Mrs. Whitman. In a lecture he gave on “ The Female Poets of America,” he assigned to her “ pre-eminence in refinement of heart, enthusiasm, imagination, and genius, properly so called.” Poe was not personally acquainted with her, but rumour averred that after delivery of his lecture, wandering at midnight near where she lived, he beheld her walking in a garden, and he is supposed to have furnished some authority for the incident in his fines,

An exchange of verses ultimately led to an introduction and a correspondence, on Poe's part of a most impassioned character. The two poets were engaged to be married conditionally, but Poe was accused, falsely or not,’ of having broken the terms of their

contract, and the lady reclaimed her promise. Although Poe, not without reason, deemed Helen Whitman to have used him un- generously, the lady herself never forgot that he had been her affianced lover and the object of her devotion. To the last days of her life she treasured the memorials of his admiration, and her home was as “a Mecca of the mind” to all who revered the works and words of the author of “The Raven.” The most beautiful offering at the shrine of his genius [page 173:] is Helen Whitman's little book, “Edgar Poe and his Critics.”

Probably no one save his “lost Lenore” ever aroused Poe's feelings so deeply as did the lady known as “Annie.” His friendship for her, his “dear, true sister,” and the aid and sympathy of her family, constituted the brightest beam of happiness in his lonesome latter years. To this congenial and appreciative spirit the poet indited his “most musical, most melancholy” lines, “For Annie,” and in his last letter home to Mrs. Clemm was a message of faith and gratitude for “Annie.” The lasting impression he made upon [column 2:] the lady's mind was most favourable, and she declared to me her belief that “he was incapable of a mean or dishonourable act towards any human being.” After Poe's death “Annie” was a true friend to his “more than mother,” Mrs. Clemm, and gave her a home as long as she desired it.

When Poe's engagement with Helen Whitman was broken off, he went South on literary affairs. At Richmond he learnt that his first love, Elmira, was a widow. He called upon her, and in a little while renewed his addresses. She asked time for consideration, but with his usual impetuosity Poe declared, “a love that hesitated was not a love for me.” They became engaged. A few weeks later, just before the wedding bells should have rung out their “golden notes,” the poet met with an untimely fate. The end came suddenly. Poe's troubled spirit passed away on October 7, 1849.