The Complete Works of Edgar Allan Poe - Edgar Allan Poe [1287]
Edgar Allan Poe to Mrs. Maria Clemm — December 19, 1848
[. . . .]
God bless you my own dear mother. I do not think it would be advisable for you to write, unless there is some very great necessity — for I might not get your letter.
Your own
Eddy
Edgar Allan Poe to Mrs. Maria Clemm — December 23, 1848
My own dear Mother —
We shall be married on Monday, and will be at Fordham on Tuesday. on the first train.
Edgar Allan Poe to Mrs. Maria Clemm — July 7, 1849
New York,
July 7.
My dear, dear Mother, —
I have been so ill — have had the cholera, or spasms quiet as bad, and can now hardly hold the pen[. . .]
The very instant you get this, come to me. The joy of seeing you will almost compensate for our sorrows. We can but die together. It is no use to reason with me now; I must die. I have no desire to live since I have done “Eureka.” I could accomplish nothing more. For your sake it would be sweet to live, but we muse die together. You have been all in all to me, darling, ever beloved mother, and dearest, truest friend.
I was never really insane, except on occasions where my heart was touched[. . .]
I have been taken to prison once since I came here for spreeing drunk; but then I was not. It was about Virginia.
Edgar Allan Poe to Maria Clemm — July 14, 1849
Near Richmond
The weather is awfully hot, and, besides all this, I am so homesick I donte know what to do. I never wanted to see any one half so bad as I want to see my own darling mother. It seems to me that I would make any sacrifice to hold you by the hand once more, and get you to cheer me up, for I am terribly depressed. I do not chink that any circumstances will ever tempt me to leave you again. When I am with you I can bear anything, but when I am away from you I am too miserable to live.
Edgar Allan Poe to Maria Clemm — July 14, 1849
Richmond, Saturday Night.
Oh, my darling Mother, it is now more than three weeks since I saw you, and in all that time your poor Eddy has scarcely drawn a breath except of incense agony. Perhaps you are sick or gone from Fordham in despair, or dead. If you are but alive, and if I but see you again, all the rest is nothing. I love you better than ten thousand lives — so much so that it is cruel in you to let me leave you; nothing but sorrow ever comes of it.
Oh, Mother, I am so ill while I write — but I resolved that come what would, I would not sleep again without easing your dear heart as far as I could.
My valise was lost for ten days. At last I found it at the depot in Philadelphia, but (you will scarcely credit it) they had opened it and stolen both lectures. Oh, Mother, think of the blow to me this evening, when on examining the valise, these lectures were gone. All my object here is over unless I can recover them or re-write one of them.
I am indebted for more than life itself to B — . Never forget him, Mother, while you live. When all failed me, he stood my friend, got me money, and saw me off in the cars for Richmond.
I got here with two dollars over — of which I inclose you one. Oh God, my Mother, shall we ever again meet? If possible, oh come! My clothes are so horrible, and I am so ill. Oh, if you could come to me, my mother. Write instantly — oh do not fail. God forever bless you.
Eddy.
Edgar Allan Poe to Maria Clemm — July 19, 1849
Richmond, Thursday, July 19.
My Own Beloved Mother —
You will see at once, by the handwriting of this letter, that I am better — much better in health and spirits. Oh, if you only knew how your dear letter comforted me! It acted like magic. Most of my suffering arose from that terrible idea which I could not get rid of — the idea that you were dead. For more than ten days I was totally deranged, although I was not drinking one drop; and during this interval I imagined the most horrible calamities. . . .
All was hallucination, arising from an attack which