POE'S PHILADELPHIA HOME.
Poe, disappointed in his hopes of success in New York, left that city
and, in the summer of 1839, removed to Philadelphia, then the literary
center of the United States.
Of his business experiences while here--his successes and
disappointments--his quarrels with certain editors and literary men and
his friendly relations with others, his biographers have informed us.
But it is in his home and private life that we are interested.
Their financial circumstances at this time must have been deplorable,
for they had to borrow money to enable them to remove to Philadelphia.
Under the circumstances, to take board was impracticable; and it appears
from the reminiscences of certain neighbors, that they for some time
occupied very poor lodgings in an obscure street in the vicinity of a
market. But Poe was much more successful here than in New York, and we
find them in the following spring established in a home of their own in
a locality known as _Spring Garden_, a quiet suburb far from the dust
and noise of the city.
Some one has recently taken pains to hunt out with infinite patience and
perseverance this house, which the Poes occupied for nearly five years.
It was an ordinary framed Dutch-roofed building, with but three rooms on
the ground floor, and under the eaves little horizontal strips of
windows on a level with the floor, which could scarcely have admitted
light and air. But there was, when they took possession, a bit of grassy
side yard which had once been part of a garden, and a porch over which
grew a straggling rose-bush. This latter Mrs. Clemm's skillful hands
carefully pruned and trained, thus winning for the humble abode the
title still applied to it of "The poet's rose-embowered cottage," to
which some enthusiast has added, "Where Poe and his idolized Virginia
dreamed their divine dream of love."
To a lady who was at this time a resident of Spring Garden we are
indebted for a glimpse of the Poes in this their quiet and half-rural
abode.
"Twice a day, on my way to and from school," she said, "I had to pass
their house, and in summer time often saw them. In the mornings Mrs.
Clemm and her daughter would be generally watering the flowers, which
they had in a bed under the windows. They seemed always cheerful and
happy, and I could hear Mrs. Poe's laugh before I turned the corner.
Mrs. Clemm was always busy. I have seen her of mornings clearing the
front yard, washing the windows and the stoop, and even white-washing
the palings. You would notice how clean and orderly everything looked.
She rented out her front room to lodgers, and used the middle room, next
to the kitchen, for their own living room or parlor. They must have
slept under the roof. We never heard that they were poor, and they kept
pretty much to themselves in the two years we lived near them. I don't
think that in that time I saw Mr. Poe half a dozen times. We heard he
was dissipated, but he always appeared like a gentleman, though thin and
sickly looking. His wife was the picture of health. It was after we
moved away that she became an invalid."
Mrs. Clemm, she added, was a dress and cloak maker; and she thinks that
Mrs. Poe assisted her, as she would sometimes see the latter seated on
the stoop engaged in sewing. "She was pretty, but not noticeably so. She
was too fleshy."
This account refers to a time when Poe was assistant editor of _The
Gentleman's Magazine_, and the family were enjoying a degree of peace
and prosperity such as they never subsequently knew.
Poe lost this position, according to Mr. Burton, the editor-in-chief, by
indulgence in dissipated habits. In replying to this charge, he wrote to
a friend, Mr. Snodgrass, that "on the honor of a gentleman" he had not,
since leaving Richmond, tasted anything stronger than cider, and that
upon one occasion only. In this he was borne out by the testimony of
Mrs. Clemm, who asserted, "I know that for years he never tasted even a
glass of wine." Mr. Burton, in making the charge, adds: "I believe that
for eighteen months previous to this time he had not drank." Still, the
severity and, one might say, almost cruelty of his personal criticisms
continued, and nothing could exceed the bitterness of his vituperation
against those by whom, as he conceived, he had been wronged or unjustly
treated. Mr. Burton, in replying, in a forbearing and even kindly
manner, to a very abusive letter from him, advised him to "lay aside
his ill-feeling against his fellow-writers, and to cultivate a more
tolerant and kindly spirit." He even proposed that Poe should resume his
place upon the magazine, but this he proudly declined, and continued to
contribute his brilliant stories to other periodicals. These attracted
the attention of Mr. Graham, who had just established the magazine which
bore his name, and who offered him the editorship, which Poe accepted,
and gave to it his best work. Under his management it prospered
wonderfully, and soon became the leading periodical of the country.
Still, with a good salary and a brilliant literary reputation, Poe was
dissatisfied. The old restlessness and discontent returned. What he
desired was a magazine of his own, for which he might be at liberty to
write according to his own will. His independent and ambitious spirit
revolted at being limited to certain bounds and controlled by what he
considered the narrow views of editors. We find him as early as June 26,
1841, writing to Mr. Snodgrass: "Notwithstanding Graham's unceasing
civility and real kindness, I am more and more disgusted with my
situation." It ended at length in his resigning the editorship of
_Graham's_ and devoting himself to writing for other publications, a
step which was the beginning of a long period of financial and other
troubles.
From Col. Du Solle, editor of "_Noah's New York Sunday Times_," who as a
resident of Philadelphia about that time knew Poe well, I gained some
information concerning him. His dissipation, the Colonel said, was too
notorious to be denied; and that for days, and even weeks at a time, he
would be sharing the bachelor life and quarters of his associates, who
were not aware that he was a married man. He would, on some evenings
when sober, come to the rooms occupied by himself and some other writers
for the press and, producing the manuscript of _The Raven_, read to them
the last additions to it, asking their opinion and suggestions. He
seemed to be having difficulty with it, said Col. Du Solle, and to be
very doubtful as to its merits as a poem. The general opinion of these
critics was against it.
The irregular habits of this summer resulted in the fall (1839) in a
severe illness, the first of the peculiar attacks to which Poe during
the rest of his life was at intervals subject. On recovering, he devoted
himself to the realization of a plan for establishing a magazine of his
own, to be called "_The Penn Magazine_," and wrote to Mr. Snodgrass that
his "prospects were glorious," and that he intended to give it the
reputation of using no article except from the best writers, and that in
criticism it was to be sternly, absolutely just with both friends and
foe, independent of the medium of a publisher's will." In these last
words we read the whole secret of his past dissatisfaction and of his
future aspiration as an editor.
The _Penn Magazine_ was advertised to appear on January 1, 1841, but
this scheme was balked by a financial depression which at that time
occurred throughout the country.
But who will not sympathize with Poe and admit that, considering the
disappointments to which he was continually subject, and the constant
humiliation and drawback of the poverty which met him on every hand,
balking each movement and design--together with the ill-health from
which he was now destined to be a constant sufferer--his faults and
failures should not be treated with every possible allowance? If he were
naturally weak, and lacking in the strength and firmness of will to
determinately resist obstacles and discouragements, we see in it the
effect of the heredity, apparent in his sister; and consequently so much
greater is his claim to be leniently judged.