The Home Life of Poe

CHAPTER VIII

IN BARRACKS

In the year 1829, my uncle, Dr. Archer, then Post Surgeon at Fortress Monroe, was one day called to the hospital to attend a private soldier known as Edgar A. Perry. Finding him a young man of superior manners and education, his interest was aroused, and his patient, won by his sympathy, finally confessed that his real name was Edgar A. Poe, and that he was the adopted son of Mr. John Allan, of Richmond; and also expressed an earnest desire to leave the army, in which he had now been for two years, the term of enlistment being five years.

Dr. Archer informed the commanding officer of these revelations, and as Perry, alias Poe, had proven himself in all respects a model soldier, interest in his case was at once aroused. It was suggested that, with his education and the social position which he had enjoyed, a cadetship at West Point would be more suited to him than the place of a private at Fortress Monroe. Poe, in his anxiety to be rid of the army, was willing enough to accept this proposal, and by the advice of his new friends wrote to Mr. Allan, informing him of his wishes and asking his assistance.

For some time he received no answer; but at length there came a letter which must have caused his heart a pang of real sorrow. It was from Mr. Allan, informing him of the death of his wife, and directing him to apply for a furlough and come on at once to Richmond, where he arrived two days after her burial.

Woodbury is mistaken in saying that in all this time Mr. Allan had not known of Edgar's whereabouts. According to Miss Valentine, Poe never at any time ceased entirely to correspond with Mrs. Allan, who never, to her dying day, lost her interest in the boy whom she had loved as a son, and neither ceased her endeavors to reconcile himself and her husband, urging Edgar to return and Mr. Allan to receive him. In anticipation of such result, she kept his room as he had left it, ready for his occupation at any time that it might suit his wayward fancy to return.

Mr. Allan talked to Poe seriously, and, finding that his great desire was to get a discharge from the army, promised to assist him; but only upon condition of his entering West Point, by which there would be secured to him an honorable and independent position for life, and Allan himself be relieved from all responsibility concerning him. But that he had not entirely forgiven Edgar was evident from a letter to the latter's commanding officer, wherein he exposes, unnecessarily, perhaps, the youth's gambling habits at the University, declaring that "he is no relation of mine whatever, and no more to me than many others who, being in need, I have regarded as being my care." Poe must have felt this latter as a humiliation; and it was certainly not calculated to increase his regard for the writer.

Poe's career at West Point is well known. At first all went well. One of his Virginia comrades, Col. Allan Magruder, describes him as of a simple and kindly nature, but, by reason of his distance and reserve, not popular with the cadets, and that he at length confined his association exclusively to Virginians. But the old discontent and impatience of restraint returned upon him, and after some months he wrote to Mr. Allan that he wished to leave West Point—a step to which the latter positively refused his assistance.

Finding nobody inclined to help him, he resolved to force his discharge. He purposely neglected his studies and military duties, deliberately violated the rules, engaged—it was said by some—in all sorts of disgraceful pranks; and finally was tried by court-martial and, on March 7, 1831, dismissed from the institute.

It has been naturally inferred that Poe's object in this voluntary self-sacrifice was simply to free himself from the irksomeness of military duties which, on trial, he found so opposed to his taste and inclination. But perhaps the real motive was one which has never yet been suspected.

Some time after Poe's death I was informed by a lady that, being in company where the conversation turned upon the poet and his writings, one who did not admire the latter remarked that Edgar Poe could have been of more use to both himself and others by remaining at West Point and adopting the army as a profession. To this an old army officer, Capt. Patrick Galt, replied that he had been informed by one who had been a classmate of Poe that the latter had been driven away from West Point by the slights and snubs of the cadets on account of his parentage and his bringing up as an object of charity. West Point, this officer declared, had in Poe's time been a very hotbed of aristocratic prejudice and pretension, and, Poe's history being known, these young aristocrats held themselves aloof, while the more snobbish among them, probably by reason of his reserve and acknowledged superiority in some respects, did not hesitate to attempt to humiliate him on occasion. Poe, he said, probably knew that this odium would in a measure attach to him throughout his whole military career, and he acted wisely in declining to expose himself to it.

Hence the shyness and reserve of which some of his fellow-cadets speak, and his exclusive association with Virginians, who generally stand by each other.

CHAPTER IX

POE AND MRS. ALLAN

In the meantime Mr. Allan had contracted a second marriage, the lady being a Miss Louisa Patterson, of New Jersey. She was thirty years of age; not handsome, but of dignified and courteous manners, with large, strongly-marked features, indicative of decision of character and, as was said, of a will of her own. Nevertheless, she was amiably inclined, and as a society leader very tactful and diplomatic. One marked characteristic of hers was that she never forgave the least slight or disrespect to herself, though the offender were but a child; and of this I remember some curious instances in my own acquaintance with her, many years after the time of which I speak.

It does not appear how Poe received the news of this marriage; but one thing seems certain—that, strangely enough, the idea never occurred to him that it in any way affected his own position in Mr. Allan's house. He had never received from the latter any word to that effect; Miss Valentine (his "Aunt Nancy"), with the old servants, who had known, and served, and loved him from his babyhood, were still there, and doubtless his room was still being kept, as ever before, ready for his occupation.

It was therefore with perfect confidence that, upon being dismissed from West Point, he proceeded to Richmond, having barely enough money to pay his way, and, sounding the brazen knocker of Mr. Allan's door, greeted the old servant pleasantly, handing him his traveling bag to be carried to his room, at the same time asking for Miss Valentine.

The answer of the servant astonished him. His old room had been taken by Mrs. Allan as a guest-chamber and his personal effects removed to "the end-room." This was the last of several small apartments opening upon a narrow corridor extending on one side of the house above the kitchen and the servants' apartments. It had at one time been occupied by Mrs. Allan's maid.

On receiving this information, Poe was extremely indignant, and, refusing to have his carpet-bag carried to that room, requested to see Mrs. Allan.

The lady came down to the parlor in all her dignity, and answered to his inquiry that she had arranged her house to suit herself; that she had not been informed that Mr. Poe had any present claim to that room or that he was expected again to occupy it. Warm words ensued, and she reminded him that he was a pensioner on her husband's charity, which provoked him to more than hint that she had married Mr. Allan from mercenary motives. This was enough for the lady. She sent for her husband, who was at his place of business, and who, upon hearing her account of the interview, coupled with the assertion that "Edgar Poe and herself could not remain a day under the same roof," without seeing Poe, sent to him an imperative order to leave the house at once, which he immediately did. It was told by himself that as he crossed the hall Mr. Allan hastily entered it from a side-door and called harshly to him, at the same time drawing out his purse, but that he, without pause or notice, continued on his way.

This account of the rupture between Poe and the Allans I heard from the Mackenzies and Mrs. Julia Mayo Cabell, wife of Poe's schoolboy friend, Dr. Robert G. Cabell, to whom Poe himself related it. The friends of the Allens gave a much more sensational account of the affair, which was much discussed, and went the rounds of the city, with such additions and exaggerations as gossip could invent, until it culminated at length in the dark picture with which Griswold horrified the world.

It was to this incident that Poe alluded when he told Mrs. Whitman that "his pride had led him to deliberately throw away a large fortune rather than submit to a trivial wrong."

CHAPTER X

THE CLOSING OF THE GATE

When Poe, after leaving Mr. Allan's door, crossed the lawn and passed out of the gate, can any one realize how momentous was the instant of time in which the gate closed after him, or what a woeful human tragedy was in that instant inaugurated? The closing of the gate meant the shutting out forever of his past life; the clang of the iron latch was the knell of all that had been bright and pleasant and prosperous in that life, now lost to him forever. There he stood, homeless, penniless, friendless, utterly alone in the world, with a pathless future before him, shadowy, dim, no hand to point him onward and no star to guiden. From this moment commences the true history of Edgar A. Poe.

On leaving the Allan house, Poe went directly to the Mackenzies, the only place to which he could turn, and spent several days with these kind friends, discussing what would be best for him to do, now that he had his own way to make in the world. They advised him to begin by teaching, until he could see his way more clearly; but Richmond was at present no place for him, and he decided to go to Baltimore, where his relatives, knowing the city so well, might be able to assist him. The Mackenzies gave him what money they could spare, and Miss Valentine, on hearing where he was, sent more.

But in Baltimore Poe found himself coldly received by his relatives. Since his miserable failure at West Point, when his prospects had seemed so bright and all conspiring for his good, they had lost all faith in him, and did not propose to trouble themselves on his account. On his last visit, Neilson Poe, at whose house he was staying, had obtained for him a place in an editor's office, which after a brief trial Poe threw up. He now again applied for that place, but failed; as also in his application for the position of assistant teacher in some academy. And now commenced that wretched life of wandering, and penury, and, according to Mr. Kennedy, of actual starvation, which is as sad as any other such history in literature, with the exception of that of poor Chatterton. His days were passed in roaming about the streets in search of employment—anything by which he could obtain food and at night a miserable place where to rest his weary limbs. He wrote a few stories which he endeavored to dispose of to editors, but met with no success.

Many stories have been told in regard to this unhappy period of Poe's life. One, related by a Richmond man, stated that, being in Baltimore about the time in question, he one day had occasion to visit a brick-yard, when there passed him by a line of men bearing the freshly moulded bricks to the kiln. Glancing at them casually, he was amazed to recognize among them Edgar Poe. He could not be mistaken, having been for years familiar with his appearance. Whether Poe recognized him, he could not say; but when he returned next day he was not there, nor did any one know of the name of Poe among the laborers. It was the opinion of this man that he had merely picked up a day's job for a day's need.

He was said to have been recognized in other equally uncongenial occupations, but relief was at hand in the time of his sorest need.

CHAPTER XI

MRS. CLEMM

His father's sister, Mrs. Maria Clemm, who had for some years been living in a New York country town, supporting herself and little daughter by dressmaking, about this time returned to Baltimore, and hearing from the Poes of the presence of her brother's son in the city, commenced a search for him. She found him, at length, ill—really ill; and at once took him to her own humble home, installing him in a room which had been furnished for a lodger, and from that hour attended and cared for him with a true motherly devotion.

Those who believe in the spirit of the old adage, "Blood is thicker than water," may imagine what a blessed relief this was to the weary and almost despairing wanderer. Here he had what he needed almost as much as he did food—rest; rest for the weak and exhausted body and for the anxious mind as well. Here, in the quiet little room, he could lie and dream, in the blissful consciousness that near him were the watchful eyes and careful hands of his own father's sister, ready to attend to his slightest want. And from the day on which he first entered her humble abode Poe was never more to be a homeless wanderer. To him it proved ever a safe little harbor, a sure haven of refuge and repose in all storms and troubles that assailed, even to his life's end.

Mrs. Clemm was at this time a strong, vigorous woman, somewhat past middle age, and of large frame and masculine features. Her manner was dignified and well-bred, and she was possessed of abundant self-reliance, ready resource, and, as must be said, of clever artifice as well, where artifice was necessary to the accomplishment of a purpose. Her abode, though plainly and cheaply furnished, was a picture of neatness and such comfort as she could afford to give it; but her means were only what could be derived from dressmaking, taking a lodger or two, and at times teaching a few small children.

This state of affairs dawned upon Poe as he slowly recovered from his fever-dreams; and he again became aware of the strong necessity of further exertion on his part. Mrs. Clemm would not allow him to go to a hospital. Probably she feared to lose him. In some degree, isolated from her other kindred, she had in her loneliness found a son, and the pertinacity with which she thenceforth clung to him was something remarkable.

Poe soon resumed his weary search for employment, but for some time without success. In his hours of enforced idleness at home he found employment in teaching his little cousin, Virginia, a pretty and affectionate child of ten years, who, however, was fonder of a walk or a romp with him than of her lessons. She was devoted to her handsome cousin, and having hitherto lived with her mother and with few or no playmates or companions, soon learned to depend upon him for all pleasure or amusement. They called each other both then and ever after, "Buddie" and "Sissy," while Mrs. Clemm was "Muddie" to both.

Of this period of Poe's life in Baltimore, Dr. Snodgrass, a literary Bohemian of the time, has given us glimpses:

"In Baltimore, his chief resort was the Widow Meagher's place, an inexpensive but respectable eating-house, with a bar attached and a room where the customers could indulge in a smoke or a social game of cards. This was frequented chiefly by printers and employees of shipping offices. Poe was a great favorite with the Widow Meagher, a kindly old Irish woman. On entering there you would generally find him seated behind her oyster counter, at which she presided; himself as silent as an oyster, grave and retiring. Knowing him to be a poet, she addressed him always by the old Irish title of Bard, and by this name he was here known. It was, "Bard, have a nip;" "Bard, take a hand." Whenever anything particularly pleased the old woman's fancy, she would request Poe to put it in "poethry," and I have seen many of these little pieces which appeared to me more worthy of preservation than some included in his published works.

It happened that Poe one evening, in his wanderings about the streets, stopped to read a copy of The Evening Visitor exposed for sale, and had his attention attracted by the offer of a purse of one hundred dollars for the best original story to be submitted to that journal anonymously. Remembering his rejected manuscripts, he at once hastened home and, making them into a neat parcel, dispatched them to the office of the Visitor, though with little or no hope of their meeting with acceptance.

His feelings may therefore be imagined when he shortly received a letter informing him that the prize of one hundred dollars had been awarded to his story of "The Gold Bug," and desiring him to come to the office of the Visitor and receive the money.

It was on this occasion that Poe made the acquaintance of Mr. J. P. Kennedy, author of "Swallow Barn," who proved such a true friend to him in time of need. Mr. Kennedy says he recognized in the thin, pale, shabbily dressed but neatly groomed young man a gentleman, and also that he was starving. He invited him frequently to his table, presented him with a suit of clothes and, seeing how feeble he was, gave him the use of a horse for the exercise which he so much needed. He also obtained for him some employment in the office of the Evening Visitor, whose editor, Mr. Wilmer, accepted several stories from his pen; and it was now, evidently, that Poe decided upon literature as a profession.

Under these favoring conditions Poe rapidly recovered his health and spirits. Mr. Wilmer, who saw a good deal of him at this time, says that when their office work was done they would often walk out together into the suburbs, generally accompanied by Virginia, who would never be left behind. At the office he was punctual, industrious and his work satisfactory. In all his association with him he never saw him under the influence of intoxicants or knew him to drink except once, moderately, when he opened a bottle of wine for a visitor.

I once clipped from a Baltimore paper the following article by a reporter to whom the story was related by "a lively and comely old lady," herself its heroine. I give it as an illustration of the easy confidence with which Poe, even in his youth, sought the acquaintance of women who attracted his attention:

CHAPTER XII

"A PRETTY GIRL WITH AUBURN HAIR WHOM POE LOVED."

"The old lady commenced by saying that she had known Poe quite intimately when she and her mother were residents of Baltimore, about 1832. She was then seventeen years of age and attending a finishing school in that city. She confided to me, laughingly, that she was considered a very pretty girl, with dark eyes and curling auburn hair.