The Portable Edgar Allan Poe - Edgar Allan Poe [240]
Mrs Butler’s book will be out on the 1rst. A life of Cicero is in press by Jn° Stricker of this city—also a life of Franklin by Jared Sparks, Boston.—also Willis’ Poems, and a novel by Dr Bird.
Yours sincerely
EDGAR A POE
The letter was torn, perhaps by White, who printed a portion of it (the first paragraph here—through “Calais”) in the Southern Literary Messenger. Poe notes a recent story, not of his composition, that alludes to his famous swimming exploit. More significantly, in the unpublished body of the letter he defends his tale, “Berenice,” from White’s imputation of “bad taste” and articulates bold goals as a writer of magazine fiction.
EDGAR ALLAN POE TO MARIA AND VIRGINIA CLEMM
[Richmond] Aug: 29th [1835]
My dearest Aunty,
I am blinded with tears while writing this letter—I have no wish to live another hour. Amid sorrow, and the deepest anxiety your letter reached—and you well know how little I am able to bear up under the pressure of grief. My bitterest enemy would pity me could he now read my heart. My last my last my only hold on life is cruelly torn away—I have no desire to live and will not. But let my duty be done. I love, you know I love Virginia passionately devotedly. I cannot express in words the fervent devotion I feel towards my dear little cousin—my own darling. But what can I say? Oh think for me for I am incapable of thinking. All of my thoughts are occupied with the supposition that both you & she will prefer to go with N. Poe. I do sincerely believe that your comforts will for the present be secured—I cannot speak as regards your peace—your happiness. You have both tender hearts—and you will always have the reflection that my agony is more than I can bear—that you have driven me to the grave—for love like mine can never be gotten over. It is useless to disguise the truth that when Virginia goes with N.P. that I shall never behold her again—that is absolutely sure. Pity me, my dear Aunty, pity me. I have no one now to fly to. I am among strangers, and my wretchedness is more than I can bear. It is useless to expect advice from me—what can I say? Can I, in honour & in truth say—Virginia! do not go!—do not go where you can be comfortable & perhaps happy—and on the other hand can I calmly resign my—life itself. If she had truly loved me would she not have rejected the offer with scorn? Oh God have mercy on me! If she goes with N.P. what are you to do, my own Aunty?
I had procured a sweet little house in a retired situation on Church Hill—newly done up and with a large garden and every convenience—at only $5 per month. I have been dreaming every day & night since of the rapture I should feel in having my only friends—all I love on Earth with me there, and the pride I would take in making you both comfortable & in calling her my wife. But the dream is over. Oh God have mercy on me. What have I to live for? Among strangers with not one soul to love me.
The situation has this morning been conferred upon another. Branch T. Saunders. but White has engaged to make my salary $60 a month, and we could live in comparative comfort & happiness—even the $4 a week I am now paying for board would support us all—but I shall have $15 a week & what need would we have of more? I had thought to send you on a little money every week until you could either hear from Hall or Wm. Poe, and then we could get a little furniture for a start for White will not be able to advance any. After that all would go well—or I would make a desperate exertion & try to borrow enough for that purpose. There is little danger of the house being taken immediately.
I would send you