Poe, Edgar Allen - The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe Read online

  The Works of Edgar Allan Poe

  Volume 1 of the Raven Edition

  The Raven Edition

  THE WORKS OF

  EDGAR ALLAN POE

  IN FIVE VOLUMES

  VOLUME I Contents

  Edgar Allan Poe, An Appreciation

  Life of Poe, by James Russell Lowell

  Death of Poe, by N. P. Willis

  The Unparalled Adventures of One Hans Pfall

  The Gold Bug

  Four Beasts in One

  The Murders in the Rue Morgue

  The Mystery of Marie RogΩt

  The Balloon Hoax

  MS. Found in a Bottle

  The Oval Portrait

  EDGAR ALLAN POE

  AN APPRECIATION

  Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster

  Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore--

  Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore

  Of "never--never more!"

  THIS stanza from "The Raven" was recommended by James Russell Lowell

  as an inscription upon the Baltimore monument which marks the resting

  place of Edgar Allan Poe, the most interesting and original figure in

  American letters. And, to signify that peculiar musical quality of

  Poe's genius which inthralls every reader, Mr. Lowell suggested this

  additional verse, from the "Haunted Palace":

  And all with pearl and ruby glowing

  Was the fair palace door,

  Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing,

  And sparkling ever more,

  A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty

  Was but to sing,

  In voices of surpassing beauty,

  The wit and wisdom of their king.

  Born in poverty at Boston, January 19 1809, dying under painful

  circumstances at Baltimore, October 7, 1849, his whole literary

  career of scarcely fifteen years a pitiful struggle for mere

  subsistence, his memory malignantly misrepresented by his earliest

  biographer, Griswold, how completely has truth at last routed

  falsehood and how magnificently has Poe come into his own, For "The

  Raven," first published in 1845, and, within a few months, read,

  recited and parodied wherever the English language was spoken, the

  half-starved poet received $10! Less than a year later his brother

  poet, N. P. Willis, issued this touching appeal to the admirers of

  genius on behalf of the neglected author, his dying wife and her

  devoted mother, then living under very straitened circumstances in a

  little cottage at Fordham, N. Y.:

  "Here is one of the finest scholars, one of the most original men of

  genius, and one of the most industrious of the literary profession of

  our country, whose temporary suspension of labor, from bodily

  illness, drops him immediately to a level with the common objects of

  public charity. There is no intermediate stopping-place, no

  respectful shelter, where, with the delicacy due to genius and

  culture, be might secure aid, till, with returning health, he would

  resume his labors, and his unmortified sense of independence."

  And this was the tribute paid by the American public to the master

  who had given to it such tales of conjuring charm, of witchery and

  mystery as "The Fall of the House of Usher" and "Ligea; such

  fascinating hoaxes as "The Unparalleled Adventure of Hans Pfaall,"

  "MSS. Found in a Bottle," "A Descent Into a Maelstrom" and "The

  Balloon Hoax"; such tales of conscience as "William Wilson," "The

  Black Cat" and "The Tell-tale Heart," wherein the retributions of

  remorse are portrayed with an awful fidelity; such tales of natural

  beauty as "The Island of the Fay" and "The Domain of Arnheim"; such

  marvellous studies in ratiocination as the "Gold-bug," "The Murders

  in the Rue Morgue," "The Purloined Letter" and "The Mystery of Marie

  Roget," the latter, a recital of fact, demonstrating the author's

  wonderful capability of correctly analyzing the mysteries of the

  human mind; such tales of illusion and banter as "The Premature

  Burial" and "The System of Dr. Tarr and Professor Fether"; such bits

  of extravaganza as "The Devil in the Belfry" and "The Angel of the

  Odd"; such tales of adventure as "The Narrative of Arthur Gordon

  Pym"; such papers of keen criticism and review as won for Poe the

  enthusiastic admiration of Charles Dickens, although they made him

  many enemies among the over-puffed minor American writers so

  mercilessly exposed by him; such poems of beauty and melody as "The

  Bells," "The Haunted Palace," "Tamerlane," "The City in the Sea" and

  "The Raven." What delight for the jaded senses of the reader is this

  enchanted domain of wonder-pieces! What an atmosphere of beauty,

  music, color! What resources of imagination, construction, analysis

  and absolute art! One might almost sympathize with Sarah Helen

  Whitman, who, confessing to a half faith in the old superstition of

  the significance of anagrams, found, in the transposed letters of

  Edgar Poe's name, the words "a God-peer." His mind, she says, was

  indeed a "Haunted Palace," echoing to the footfalls of angels and

  demons.

  "No man," Poe himself wrote, "has recorded, no man has dared to

  record, the wonders of his inner life."

  In these twentieth century days -of lavish recognition-artistic,

  popular and material-of genius, what rewards might not a Poe claim!

  Edgar's father, a son of General David Poe, the American

  revolutionary patriot and friend of Lafayette, had married Mrs.

  Hopkins, an English actress, and, the match meeting with parental

  disapproval, had himself taken to the stage as a profession.

  Notwithstanding Mrs. Poe's beauty and talent the young couple had a

  sorry struggle for existence. When Edgar, at the age of two years,

  was orphaned, the family was in the utmost destitution. Apparently

  the future poet was to be cast upon the world homeless and

  friendless. But fate decreed that a few glimmers of sunshine were to

  illumine his life, for the little fellow was adopted by John Allan, a

  wealthy merchant of Richmond, Va. A brother and sister, the remaining

  children, were cared for by others.

  In his new home Edgar found all the luxury and advantages money could

  provide. He was petted, spoiled and shown off to strangers. In Mrs.

  Allan he found all the affection a childless wife could bestow. Mr.

  Allan took much pride in the captivating, precocious lad. At the age

  of five the boy recited, with fine effect, passages of English poetry

  to the visitors at the Allan house.

  From his eighth to his thirteenth year he attended the Manor House

  school, at Stoke-Newington, a suburb of London. It was the Rev. Dr

  .

  Bransby, head of the school, whom Poe so quaintly portrayed in

  "William Wilson." Returning to Richmond in 1820 Edgar was sent to the

  school of Professor Joseph H. Clar
ke. He proved an apt pupil. Years

  afterward Professor Clarke thus wrote:

  "While the other boys wrote mere mechanical verses, Poe wrote genuine

  poetry; the boy was a born poet. As a scholar he was ambitious to

  excel. He was remarkable for self-respect, without haughtiness. He

  had a sensitive and tender heart and would do anything for a friend.

  His nature was entirely free from selfishness."

  At the age of seventeen Poe entered the University of Virginia at

  Charlottesville. He left that institution after one session. Official

  records prove that he was not expelled. On the contrary, he gained a

  creditable record as a student, although it is admitted that he

  contracted debts and had "an ungovernable passion for card-playing."

  These debts may have led to his quarrel with Mr. Allan which

  eventually compelled him to make his own way in the world.

  Early in 1827 Poe made his first literary venture. He induced Calvin

  Thomas, a poor and youthful printer, to publish a small volume of his

  verses under the title "Tamerlane and Other Poems." In 1829 we find

  Poe in Baltimore with another manuscript volume of verses, which was

  soon published. Its title was "Al Aaraaf, Tamerlane and Other Poems."

  Neither of these ventures seems to have attracted much attention.

  Soon after Mrs. Allan's death, which occurred in 1829, Poe, through

  the aid of Mr. Allan, secured admission to the United States Military

  Academy at West Point. Any glamour which may have attached to cadet

  life in Poe's eyes was speedily lost, for discipline at West Point

  was never so severe nor were the accommodations ever so poor. Poe's

  bent was more and more toward literature. Life at the academy daily

  became increasingly distasteful. Soon he began to purposely neglect

  his studies and to disregard his duties, his aim being to secure his

  dismissal from the United States service. In this he succeeded. On

  March 7, 1831, Poe found himself free. Mr. Allan's second marriage

  had thrown the lad on his own resources. His literary career was to

  begin.

  Poe's first genuine victory was won in 1833, when .he was the

  successful competitor for a prize of $100 offered by a Baltimore

  periodical for the best prose story. "A MSS. Found in a Bottle" was

  the winning tale. Poe had submitted six stories in a volume. "Our

  only difficulty," says Mr. Latrobe, one of the judges, "was in

  selecting from the rich contents of the volume."

  During the fifteen years of his literary life Poe was connected with

  various newspapers and magazines in Richmond, Philadelphia and New

  York. He was faithful, punctual, industrious, thorough. N. P. Willis,

  who for some time employed Poe as critic and sub-editor on the

  "Evening Mirror," wrote thus:

  "With the highest admiration for Poe's genius, and a willingness to

  let it alone for more than ordinary irregularity, we were led by

  common report to expect a very capricious attention to his duties,

  and occasionally a scene of violence and difficulty. Time went on,

  however, and he was invariably punctual and industrious. We saw but

  one presentiment of the man-a quiet, patient, industrious and most

  gentlemanly person.

  "We heard, from one who knew him well (what should be stated in all

  mention of his lamentable irregularities), that with a single glass

  of wine his whole nature was reversed, the demon became 'uppermost,

  and, though none of the usual signs of in

  Poe's first genuine victory was won in 1833, when he was the

  successful competitor for a prize of $100 offered by a Baltimore

  periodical for the best prose story. "A MSS. Found in a Bottle" was

  the winning tale. Poe had submitted six stories in a volume. "Our

  only difficulty," says Mr. Latrobe, one of the judges, "was in

  selecting from the rich contents of the volume."

  During the fifteen years of his literary life Poe was connected with

  various newspapers and magazines in Richmond, Philadelphia and New

  York. He was faithful, punctual, industrious, thorough. N. P. Willis,

  who for some time employed Poe as critic and sub-editor on the

  "Evening Mirror," wrote thus:

  "With the highest admiration for Poe's genius, and a willingness to

  let it alone for more than ordinary irregularity, we were led by

  common report to expect a very capricious attention to his duties,

  and occasionally a scene of violence and difficulty. Time went on,

  however, and he was invariably punctual and industrious. We saw but

  one presentiment of the man-a quiet, patient, industrious and most

  gentlemanly person;

  "We heard, from one who knew him well (what should be stated in all

  mention of his lamentable irregularities), that with a single glass

  of wine his whole nature was reversed, the demon became uppermost,

  and, though none of the usual signs of intoxication were visible, his

  will was palpably insane. In this reversed character, we repeat, it

  was never our chance to meet him."

  On September 22, 1835, Poe married his cousin, Virginia Clemm, in

  Baltimore. She had barely turned thirteen years, Poe himself was but

  twentysix. He then was a resident of Richmond and a regular

  contributor to the "Southern Literary Messenger." It was not until a

  year later that the bride and her widowed mother followed him thither.

  Poe's devotion to his cbild-wife was one of the most beautiful

  features of his life. Many of his famous poetic productions were

  inspired by her beauty and charm. Consumption had marked her for its

  victim, and the constant efforts of husband and mother were to secure

  for her all the comfort and happiness their slender means permitted.

  Virginia died January 30, 1847, when but twenty-five years of age. A

  friend of the family pictures the death-bed scene-mother and husband

  trying to impart warmth to her by chafing her hands and her feet,

  while her pet cat was suffered to nestle upon her bosom for the sake

  of added warmth.

  These verses from "Annabel Lee," written by Poe in 1849, the last

  year of his life, tell of his sorrow at the loss of his child-wife:

  I was a child and _she_ was a child,

  In a kingdom by the sea;

  But we loved with _a _love that was more than love-

  I and my Annabel Lee;

  With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven

  Coveted her and me.

  And this was the reason that, long ago;

  In this kingdom by the sea.

  A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

  My beautiful Annabel Lee;

  So that her high-born kinsmen came

  And bore her away from me,

  To shut her up in a sepulchre

  In this kingdom by the sea,

  Poe was connected at various times and in various capacities with the

  "Southern Literary Messenger" in Richmond, Va.; "Graham's Magazine"

  and the "Gentleman's Magazine" in Philadelphia.; the "Evening

  Mirror," the "Broadway journal," and "Godey's Lady's Book" in New

  York. Everywhere Poe's life was one of unremitting toil. No tales and

  poems were ever produced at a greater cost of brain and spirit.

  Poe's initial salary with the "Southern
Literary Messenger," to which

  he contributed the first drafts of a number of his best-known tales,

  was $10 a week! Two years later his salary was but $600 a year. Even

  in 1844, when his literary reputation was established securely, he

  wrote to a friend expressing his pleasure because a magazine to which

  he was to contribute had agreed to pay him $20 monthly for two pages

  of criticism.

  Those were discouraging times in American literature, but Poe never

  lost faith. He was finally to triumph wherever pre-eminent talents

  win admirers. His genius has had no better description than in this

  stanza from William Winter's poem, read at the dedication exercises

  of the Actors' Monument to Poe, May 4, 1885, in New York:

  He was the voice of beauty and of woe,

  Passion and mystery and the dread unknown;

  Pure as the mountains of perpetual snow,

  Cold as the icy winds that round them moan,

  Dark as the eaves wherein earth's thunders groan,

  Wild as the tempests of the upper sky,

  Sweet as the faint, far-off celestial tone of angel

  whispers, fluttering from on high,

  And tender as love's tear when youth and beauty die.

  In the two and a half score years that have elapsed since Poe's death

  he has come fully into his own. For a while Griswold's malignant

  misrepresentations colored the public estimate of Poe as man and as

  writer. But, thanks to J. H. Ingram, W. F. Gill, Eugene Didier, Sarah

  Helen Whitman and others these scandals have been dispelled and Poe

  is seen as he actually was-not as a man without failings, it is true,

  but as the finest and most original genius in American letters. As

  the years go on his fame increases. His works have been translated

  into many foreign languages. His is a household name in France and