Edgar Allan Poe's Petersburg: The Untold Story of the Raven in the Cockade City

By Jeffrey Abugel

Visit the Virginia city where the great author brought his thirteen-year-old bride for a honeymoon.
 
Antebellum Petersburg was a melting pot of French, Haitian, Scotch-Irish, and free black populations. It was in this eclectic city that the master of the macabre, Edgar Allan Poe, chose to take his new wife, thirteen-year-old first cousin Virginia Clemm, on their honeymoon in 1836.
 
This book traces the steps of the controversial couple through imaginative scenes of historic Petersburg. From Poe’s own mother performing in the local venues to the poet’s lasting friendship with Petersburg native and publisher Hiram Haines, it reveals an overlooked moment in the young life of this literary giant.
 
Includes photos

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Feb 12, 2013
• ISBN: 9781614238584

Book preview

Introduction

It was very likely the happiest time of his life. Yet despite the hundreds of books and articles written about the life of Edgar Allan Poe, few devote little more than a footnote to the honeymoon he enjoyed with his child bride, Virginia Clemm, in Petersburg, Virginia.

Petersburg is one of the most historic cities in the Southeast. But most of its publicized history relates to the Civil War, the Battle of the Crater and the Siege of Petersburg. In decades before the war, however, the town was a rich center of trade, ideas and entertainment, with a diverse culture that included people of French, Haitian and Scotch-Irish descent, as well as the largest free black population in the South.

Much of the history of this city, just twenty miles south of Richmond, has been buried in obscurity for decades, just as Poe’s early manhood—with his clean-shaven face, natural athleticism and ability to live by his wits—has taken a backseat to the dark, mustachioed literary figure more familiar to the world.

This book is built around two things that have been largely ignored by Poe fans and scholars—his relationship with Petersburg, beginning with his mother’s many appearances as an actress, and his friendship with fellow poet and newspaper editor Hiram Haines. (Haines’ wife actually lived near Poe as a child, and people often mistook them for brother and sister.)

Until recently, Haines was buried not only in Blandford Cemetery but in obscurity as well. Documentation about his life, his work and his relationship with Poe was briefly brought to light in the 1930s and then subsequently forgotten. Locally published histories of Petersburg, which proliferated in the 1950s and ’60s, often relied on sketchy facts and oral histories. This book is meant to illuminate the origins of the symbiotic friendship enjoyed between Poe and Haines, while portraying, as accurately as possible, the thriving city that Haines called home and that Poe chose as the ideal romantic escape.

The author discovers the grave of Hiram Haines in Blandford Cemetery. It has now been completely restored. Photo by Michael Adams.

CHAPTER 1

Bringing Back the Dead

I confess. I was never Edgar Allan Poe’s biggest fan. I respected his place among American poets but pretty much left what I’d read behind in high school. Too many Hammer films, too much Vincent Price had long dissociated me from the body of work that went so far beyond A Cask of Amontillado and The Raven. Over time, the words of my favorite authors—Borges, Camus, Miller and Mishima—became sacrosanct. Poe, somehow, seemed more Halloween than hallowed.

When I moved to Petersburg eight years ago, everything changed. Many aspects of Petersburg seem illogical, if not downright surreal. Not the least of these is the fact that the town possesses more fascinating history per square foot than virtually anywhere on the planet—history that is largely unsung and unknown.

With its riverside site and abundant historic architecture, the town’s potential seemed boundless. But its chronic inability to tap into that potential can tax one’s patience. In time, some folks just pack up and leave—unless they find a reason to stay. For me, it was Poe.

From the outset, locals told me that Poe had spent his honeymoon at what is now 12 West Bank Street. Furthermore, his parents were actors who performed in one of the many theaters in a vibrant, prosperous Petersburg before he was born. So why were there no historic markers, no tours for Poe fans, no proof of all this beyond an oral tradition?

As if compelled by otherworldly forces, Poe’s honeymoon quietly became my secret obsession. Where was the proof, I wondered? If the site was bona fide, I felt perversely compelled to acquire it before someone else did.

Poe as a young man was well groomed and clean-shaven. He would have appeared much like this growing up in Richmond as an athletic young man known for his feat of swimming the James River against the current.

I decided to approach the owner, who had quietly done much to revitalize Petersburg through the years. She rarely sold a building, but when she did, it was to someone who cared about history and the town’s future. Over lunch, I laid out my plans. The owner knew about the alleged Poe connection and was pleased that I had done some homework. It looked like we might be able to strike a deal when the time was right, and that time might be sooner rather than later.

Be careful what you wish for, I reminded myself. There was still the matter of actually proving that Poe and Virginia had honeymooned at the building that now seemed within reach.

Months passed, and I was given the opportunity to explore the building. While the street-level retail space had been leased for some time, the upper levels of No. 12 far surpassed my expectations. It had not been inhabited by anyone for many decades. Aside from crude electrical conduits outside the ceilings and primitive bathrooms with claw-foot tubs, the rooms looked just as they did in 1814 when they were constructed. Unlike so many Petersburg buildings, it had never been pillaged; the heart pine floors were remarkably intact, protected in part by piecemeal remnants of art deco linoleum. At the ceilings, hand-carved dentil moldings were in place and untouched. Of the six fireplace mantels, one with an early shell motif stood proudly against a wall like a relic of Monticello. Remarkably, much of the soft green peeling paint in every room was in fact original. Horsehairs within the ancient plaster confirmed the period of construction. This faded elegance seemed almost habitable but for the layers of dust and pigeon droppings accumulated through the ages.

In addition, an oversized second-level door opened to a curious walkway, which, crossing a silent and dark chasm below, led to a second building few people even knew about. There was a complete rear structure that served as a bakery at some point. The ovens had collapsed into rubble, and a roof now covered the space between the two structures. A little light revealed the dark chasm to be a magical enclosed courtyard between the two brick buildings.

DIGGING FOR TRUTH

Whether I could afford the building—and a six-figure restoration—was one issue. Whether it was as historic as suggested was another. I had to know the truth, either way.

The scant historical facts about Poe’s honeymoon provided the point of departure. Poe married his thirteen-year-old cousin, Virginia Clemm, when he learned that her mother (Poe’s aunt Maria) was considering sending her away with a wealthy relative. Marrying her was the way to keep his beloved child companion close.

They wed in Richmond in 1836 and then proceeded to Petersburg for their honeymoon. Most biographies end there, with Poe heading back to work at the Southern Literary Messenger. It is, for sure, a touchy subject, even today. Some accounts, in Poe’s defense, claim the marriage was not consummated for years. Witnesses recall Poe and Virginia playing leapfrog in Richmond parks, behaving more like young playmates than husband and wife.

Trying to learn much beyond these accounts online led to an informational vacuum. But the Library of Virginia and the Petersburg Courthouse held clues. Handwritten records including little WPA make-work biographies on index cards, Poe’s known correspondence, typewritten personal histories and 1930s journals of the College of William and Mary provided tidbits that collectively completed a historical puzzle.

The image revealed was that of Hiram Haines, poet and editor of the local newspaper, a man with whom Poe had corresponded regularly—the man who hosted Edgar and Virginia’s honeymoon at his Petersburg tavern.

A POET’S POET

To me, historic preservation means more than shoring up old buildings. It means remembering the people who inhabited those buildings, the lives they led, the things they thought. Poe’s friend Hiram Haines was indeed a man worth remembering. His Coffee House or restorative, a place for food, drink and lodging, hosted not only Poe but also intellectuals, poets, journalists and politicians at a time when the country was still young, still defining its place in the world at large, politically and artistically.

As a teenager, Haines wrote and read aloud a poem written for the Marquis de Lafayette during the Frenchman’s 1824 visit to Petersburg. Later, Haines self-published a book of poems, one of the first to draw attention to the state of Virginia’s natural beauty. In time he became editor of the American Constellation while Poe was editing the Messenger in Richmond. It was during this time that the friendship developed. A mutual love of poetry and the need to promote each other’s publications brought them together on several occasions and prompted regular correspondence. (In one letter, Haines offers Poe and Virginia the gift of a fawn, which the couple declined.) Both men died at about age forty. One of Haines’ four children went on to edit the Baltimore Sun. Virginia Clemm died at age twenty-five, two years before Poe, and is largely considered the inspiration behind Poe’s famous poem Annabelle Lee.

If confirmed, the building in question needed more than a plaque, I realized, more than a paragraph in a guidebook. The place that existed in 1836 needed to return to present-day Petersburg. Hiram Haines’ Coffee House, a poet’s tavern, demanded more than remembering. It required resurrection.

WHAT DREAMS MAY COME

As my body of collected evidence grew, so did my enthusiasm. Still, some locals claimed that the honeymoon site was destroyed long ago. Some reference materials pointed to East, not West, Bank Street. Yet others claimed that the couple stayed at Haines’ home, not his Coffee House. Then, in an off-limits room in the Petersburg Courthouse, a kind of Holy of Holies place for the older, more fragile documents, I found the answer I sought.

In the old deed books, written records and little hand-drawn diagrams showed the place clearly on Bank Street, off Sycamore where the adjacent buildings all still exist in a row. Clear as day, the words Haines Coffee House appeared on building number 3, and to my surprise and delight, Haines’ manse or house was right next door. There was no East Bank Street in 1836, though today the buildings are 12 and 16 West Bank. I later observed that the buildings were interconnected on all levels through doorways that were filled in. So those who said he stayed at Haines’ house or his Coffee House were both correct.

This 1836 ink sketch by William Robertson shows the density of parts of Old Towne during the year of Poe’s visit. The white house in the distance was known as Spring Hill, which was built in the 1700s and then demolished later in the 1800s to expand Tabb Street farther west. Courtesy of Petersburg Museums.

The couple spent close to two weeks in Petersburg, according to several accounts.