Text: Eugene L. Didier, “The Boyhood of Edgar A. Poe,” The Poe Cult and Other Poe Papers (1909), pp. 96-101

[page 96:]

If, as the poet says, the child is father to the man, the strange and romantic story of the youth of Edgar A. Poe must be both interesting and instructive to readers, young and old. Poe's parents were actors, and he was born almost in the greenroom. His wanderings, which never ceased, began five weeks after his birth, when he was taken to the home of his paternal grandfather in Baltimore.

During the next two years, young Edgar accompanied his parents on their professional tour; going from city to city, knowing neither the happiness nor the comforts of a home, but suffering often from cold, and sometimes from hunger. Before he was three years old, he was left an orphan by the almost simultaneous death of both of his parents, the mother in Richmond, and the father in Norfolk, Va. Mr. Allan, a rich, childless merchant of the former city, attracted by the beauty and precocious wit of the little fellow, adopted him. The change which now took place in Edgar's [page 97:] life reads like a fairy tale: from poverty, want, and misery, he passed to a home of luxury, where he soon became the idol of the house, being treated as a young prince, clothed in velvet, and faring sumptuously every day. His proud, imperious temper, instead of being controlled, was encouraged; his voice soon became the law of the house. The boy was bright, clever, and fascinating, and his adopted father petted and spoiled him by over indulgence, and by unduly stimulating his natural gifts. He was early taught dancing, drawing, and dramatic recitation, and before he was six years old, was made a sort of show-child, being brought into the parlor to entertain the company by reciting speeches and dramatic pieces. This was all wrong, and Mr. Allan, while amusing his guests, was injuring the boy for life.

When Edgar was sent to school, the teacher was forbidden to punish him. Adjoining the play ground was a vegetable garden, which the boys were not allowed to enter under the penalty of wearing a turnip, carrot, or cabbage around the neck during school hours. One day Edgar violated the rule, and was compelled to wear one of the vegetables suspended around his neck. After school, he ran home still wearing the obnoxious carrot, or turnip. [page 98:] Mr. Allan was incensed that his boy should be treated so disrespectfully. He went at once to the school, and, after lecturing the teacher, paid what was due, and took the child from school.

Mr. Allan passed part of the Summer at the White Sulphur Springs, then as now the most fashionable watering place in the South. Here young Edgar shone brilliantly with his fine clothes, his pony, his pocket money, his watch, jewelry, etc. He was allowed to take his place in the ball room, and dance with the young girls. Prococious [[Precocious]] in all things, he had his sweethearts before he was fairly in his teens, and wrote sentimental verses to his little favorites. Mr. Allan, who saw good in everything the boy did at this time, was delighted with his rhymes, and was going to have them published, but he was dissuaded from doing so by a gentleman whom he consulted about the matter. He told Mr. Allan that Edgar's natural pride and egotism would be injuriously affected by the appearance of his verses in a book; and so, the matter was dropped.

When Edgar was eleven years old, he was placed in an English and classical school. Here, he soon became conspicuous for his cleverness, and without being a close student, his brilliant intellectual gifts, and fine physical [page 99:] qualities, made him by common consent the head of the school, before he was there three years. In all athletic sports, he was a perfect master; he could run with the swiftness and endurance of an Indian; he was a great leaper; a good boxer, as one of his old school friends once wrote to me “he was the best, the most daring, and most enduring swimmer that I ever saw in the water.” One of his swimming feats is still remembered in Richmond. It was swimming from Ludlam's wharf to Warwick Bar, six miles down the James River, on a hot summer day. A gentleman of Richmond who witnessed the daring feat said Poe did not seem at all fatigued, and walked back to the city immediately after landing. Poe was only fifteen years old at the time he accomplished this aquatic feat, which was done against one of the strongest tides ever known in the James River. The boys of Richmond were proud of their bold companion, and they deemed his youthful exploit greater than Byron's famous feat of swimming across the Hellespont. A more foolish aquatic exploit is recorded of Poe: One winter day, he and a companion were standing on the banks of the James when Poe dared his friend to jump in the river and swim to a certain point with him. No sooner said than done, and the boys were soon floundering [page 100:] in the half frozen water. Benumbed and exhausted, they landed more dead than alive, and paid very dear for their foolish feat by an illness of several weeks. Poe is described at this time as a haughty, handsome, self-willed, impetuous, pugnacious boy, always ready to engage in either mental or physical fights, and generally coming off victorious.

Had it been the deliberate purpose of Poe's early friends to destroy his naturally fine, frank, generous disposition, they could not have adopted better means to accomplish their intention than they did. While his pride and vanity were stimulated his heart was not cultivated; although Mr. Allan lavished his money upon the boy, he did not foster his affectionate disposition, and utterly failed to touch the cords of sympathy that lay dormant in the young orphan's heart. That Edgar Poe was touched by affection and appreciated kindness is shown by his gratitude to Mrs. Stannard. This lady was the mother of Robert Stannard, one of his friends. Poe went home with him one day, and Mrs. Stannard welcomed him with some kind and gracious words. The heart of the boy was touched, and from that hour, Mrs. Stannard became, as he himself long afterward said: “The one idolatrous, purely ideal love of my tempest-tossed [page 101:] boyhood.” His exquisite lines “To Helen,” were inspired by the memory of this lady, who became the confidante of his boyish troubles, and when she died Poe, who was only fourteen at the time, was in the habit of visiting her grave every night, and passing hours in solitary vigils.

Edgar Poe was brought up with the expectation of inheriting a princely fortune; every youthful whim was indulged, and every extravagant fancy encouraged, but when he reached his twenty-first year, he was turned adrift upon the world without a dollar, and from that time until his melancholy death, twenty years later, he never earned a cent, except by his pen, and very little by that, for he lived at a time when literature was scarcely recognized as a profession. The conduct of Mr. Allan in driving Poe from his house has never been satisfactorily explained, but had the author of the Raven remained in the luxurious home of his youth, our country might have wanted its most remarkable genius.