Text: James L. West, “Richmond People Who Knew Poe,” Times Dispatch (Richmond), January 17, 1909 (special Sunday section), pp. 2 and 4

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Edgar Allan Poe was known personally to but four persons now living in the city of Richmond, and with none of these was he intimate, for, indeed, but few persons enjoyed this distinction. Ever misunderstood by the masses, Poe held himself aloof from all except a chosen few.

The living Richmond acquaintances of the weird genius are Colonel John H. Montague, of 118 East Franklin Street: Mr. John Fergusson, of 1011 West Franklin Street; Dr. Richard G. Crouch, of 417 East Franklin Street, and Mrs. Susan Archer Weiss, who lives on the Broad Stree Road, about a half-mile outside the city limits.

Mr. William H. Clemmitt, a compositor, who now resides at 819 West Main Street, lived here at the time Poe did, and knew him by sight, but was not personally acquainted with him.

Guest at Poet's Home.

Colonel Montague was a guest at Poe's home upon several occasions, and he probably is the only person, past or present, who experienced the thrill of gazing down the barrel of a revolver behind which gleamed the steady, gray eye of the great literary genius. This incident in Poe's life has never before been made public, and doubtless few, if any, people ever knew that he drew a gun upon any living man.

His kindly face wreathed in smiles, and in that courtly fashion so characteristic of the gentlemen of the beloved old Southland that is dead and gone, Colonel Montague a few days ago related his experiences with Poe.

“My recollections of Edgar Allan Poe, who was ten or twelve years my senior, are very brief, and are limited to three of four interviews,” he said. “Mr. Pugh Pleasants, then the editor of the Whig, and Poe kept ‘bachelors’ hall’ in the stuccoed house now standing on Clay Street between Ninth and Tenth Streets. I recall on one occasion they had entertained some friends at dinner, and in those days the libations were copious. Happening to be passing the house about nightfall, and hearing a great noise from within. I went through the first entrance, and, as the sound came from above, I started up the stairway. I had not gone many steps before I saw Poe standing at the top landing, half dressed, and with a gun in his hand, which he was leveling at me.

“I was almost paralyzed with apprehension, and dared not turn and run back. Being very young and active, I dived under the gun, and embracing him, said:

“‘Mr. Poe, can you give me a drink?’ The question and my expression touched his heart, and he replied:

“‘Certainly, my boy, come in; we are glad to see you.’

“On another occasion my old schoolmate, John R. Thompson, the poet, suggested a call on Mr. Poe, who was then well known as a sometime contributor to the Southern Literary Messenger. He invited us in with politeness, and for a time his conversation was most brilliant and interesting. After a while he lapsed into a wild, unearthly and wonderful rhapsody, while his great eyes glared and scintillated, and he seemed to be talking more to a peopled atmosphere than to a brace of youngsters.

“Since that time, becoming a little more familiar with German literature, I have recognized the names of many of the spirits of the air evoked by Mr. Poe in his enthusiasm.

“Hugh Pleasants said Poe was a splendid fellow, but was overstocked with the diving afflatus.”

Served With Poe.

Mrs. John W. Fergusson was an apprentice boy in the composing room of the Southern Literary Messenger at the time Poe was assistant editor of that magazine, and he was one of the few persons who enjoyed eating Poe's wedding cake, which was made by Mrs. Clemm for the marriage of Poe and Miss Virginia Clemm. Mr. Fergusson was not present at the marriage, but he recalls that a Presbyterian minister by the name of Converse performed the ceremony, the marriage being a quiet one. Mr. And Mrs. Poe when to live with a family at the corner of Twelfth and Bank Streets, and it was in that house that the apprentice boy ate the piece of wedding cake.

Being a mere lad of fifteen or sixteen years, Mrs. Fegusson did not come to know Poe well, but naturally he saw much of him in the office.

Dr. Crouch's Recollections.

Dr. Richard G. Crouch knew Poe well, and is familiar with many of the incidents of the genius’ boyhood days in Richmond. He speaks most interestingly of the poet, and only a short while ago related some of those incidents.

“As I remember Poe he was rather short in statue [[stature]] being only about 5 feet 7 inches tall,” said Dr. Crouch. “He was a little heavier than myself, and had dark brown, not black, hair, which was inclined to be wavy. His eyes were large and expressive, and his face was always very pale. When on the streets he walked very, very rapidly, and an old friend of mine in those days used to compare him to a thistledown being blown before a strong wind.

“When sober Poe was a kindly and courteous gentleman. That he was a gentleman was testified to by his kind and loveable treatment of his wife, Virginia Clemm. Why, when she was dying he placed a big pet cat on her breast, hoping in that way to keep her warm. Then, too, he loved devotedly his [page 4, col. 4, continued:] mother-in-law, Mrs. Clemm, and she loved him with the tender love bestowed upon a son. That was unusually remarkable, and is seldom seen.

“Poe drank a great deal, yet he was not an habitual drunkard. I remember when, just before he left Richmond for Baltimore, where he died, he lay in the old Swan Tavern suffering from delirium tremens. He was far from well when he left Richmond, and never recovered from the effects of that last attack. I became acquainted with him about two years before his death.

“That he was a man of great physical courage and of a very high sense of honor is testified to by an incident which occurred while he was attending Burke's School, in Richmond, when a youngster. He became embroiled with a fellow-student, who was an athlete and boxer. Poe invited the boy to a fist fight, and they met on the old hill, now gone, beyond the ravine near the poor-house. Each had a second and when the other boy had thrown Poe down and was hammering him heavily with his fists. Poe's second cried to the lad to say ‘enough,’ but Poe continued to take the blows, until finally, by a supreme effort, he turned his antagonist over and proceeded to thrash him soundly. When the battle ended Poe's second asked him why he did not cry ‘enough,’ and the boy replied that he knew his opponent would finally get tired, and that when he did so he accepted his chance, reversed positions and won the fight.

“A man of great personal courage and bravery must be a gentleman, suh,” declared Dr. Crouch. A scoundrel never has any courage. He is of necessity a coward.”

Mrs. Weiss and “The Raven.”

Mrs. Susan Archer Weiss probably [column 5:] knew Poe better than any person now living in Richmond. She frequently saw and talked with him, and at times went over some of his poems with him. She now has the original copies of some of the poems, while of others she has the rough draft, of first copies made. A manuscript copy of “The Raven” was left with her by Poe when he went to Boston.

Mrs. Weiss is very old now, and is blind and deaf, and for that reason she is unable to tell any of her personal recollections of the poet. Some few years ago, however, she wrote and published a volume of “The Home Life of Poe.” In this volume she gives the complete life history of the poet, and relates many minor incidents in his life. Also she gives some interesting personal recollections of the man.

In her book Mrs. Weiss goes on to describe the occasion when Poe was a guest at her home, and asked her to assist him in unraveling the “knotty” points in “The Raven.” She gave him several sheets of paper, and he penned off the poem.

“This manuscript copy of ‘The Raven,’ with all of its pencil marks, as made by Mr. Poe on that September morning, remained in my possession for many years. It is yet photographed upon my memory, with all the details here given from an odd leaf of a journal which I kept about that time — the quite parlor, the outside drizzle, the books, the roses and the face and figure [column 6:] of Mr. Poe as he gravely bent over the manuscript copy of his immortal poem of ‘The Raven.’

“Had he no premonition that even then a darker shadow than that of ‘The Raven’ was hovering over him? It was one of the last occasions on which I ever saw him.”

Thus Mrs. Weiss ends the twenty-eighth chapter of her book. In that chapter she tells how Poe was seated at the table writing and talking with her when her pet dog chased the house cat into the room. The cat found refuge under the table, and Poe picked it up in his arms and stroked it. He asked her if the cat was her pet, and upon her disclaiming any partiality for felines, he said: “I like them,” and continued his caressing.

In the succeeding chapter Mrs. Weiss relates an interesting story of the last day spent by Poe in Richmond before he left for Baltimore, when he died a few days later. Mrs. Weiss also writs very interestingly of Poe's character in the closing volume of the book. “ ‘Unstable as water,’ is written upon Poe's every visage in characters which all might read,” she writes. “In the weak falling away of the jaw, the narrow, receding chin, and the sensitive, irresolute mouth. Above the soul-lighted eyes and the magnificent temple of intellect overshadowing them, we look in vain for the rising dome of firmness, which, like the keystone of the arch, should strengthen and bind together the rest. Lacking this the arch must be tottering to a fall.”