January 19, 2021 marks 212 years since the birth of Edgar Allan Poe and 218 years since the birth of Sarah Helen Whitman. Poe was born in Boston, Massachusetts to traveling actors, Elizabeth Arnold Poe and David Poe Jr. Whitman was born here in Providence, Rhode Island to parents Anna Marsh Power and Nicholas Power. These Providence lovers did, in fact, share a birthday—and we are left to imagine the impressive birthday bash they would have thrown if they got married.

2020 was a harrowing year for us all, to say the least. While 2021 is looking brighter, we are still not out of the woods just yet. Fans across the world will be celebrating this day virtually, with many online events happening on just about every social media platform you can think of.

I had aspirations to kick-off my Walking Tour of Poe’s Providence, until Covid and the pandemic interfered. However, I am hopeful for this year, and that is why I want to announce another event that has been in the works: The First Annual Wreath Laying Ceremony for Sarah Helen Whitman, scheduled for Sunday, June 27, 2021 at the North Burial Ground in Providence, Rhode Island.

This will be an in-person event, CDC and RIDH permitting. Rules and regulations will be closely monitored in the weeks prior. Details will follow in the months to come, but I wanted to make this announcement for the very special occasion.

Now, go toast the poets and eat some cake! You deserve it.

It was only ten months after Whitman had broken off her engagement to Poe that she learned of his unexpected death in Baltimore. After that tumultuous break-up, Poe had written Whitman a letter, to which she did not respond. It is safe to assume that there was a lack of closure for them both, especially for Whitman now that Poe had left this earth for good. However, she spent the rest of her life memorializing Poe and relishing in her connection to him. She corresponded with his friends, relatives, and to Poe’s earliest biographers.

Whitman staunchly defended Poe’s reputation and published her own book in 1860 titled Edgar A. Poe and His Critics. In it, she directly refutes the lies told by Poe’s literary executor, Rufus Griswold. Whitman used her platform to ensure an accurate legacy for the man that she once loved.

One of the many poems Whitman wrote about Poe gives us a poignant view of her initial emotions after his death. The poem was first published under the title “To Him ‘Whose Heart-Strings Were A Lute'” but then later changed to a Latin name, “Resurgemus,” translating to “Rise.” Whitman conveys a sense of relief that Poe had finally found peace in death, and clearly exhibits a comfort in knowing that his soul will live on forevermore.

Resurgemus

I mourn thee not: no words can tell
The solemn calm that tranced my breast
When I first knew the soul had past
From earth to its eternal rest;

For doubt and darkness, o’er thy head,
Forever waved their Condor wings;
And in their murky shadows bred
Forms of unutterable things;

And all around thy silent hearth,
The glory that once blushed and bloomed
Was but a dim-remembered dream
Of “the old time entombed.”

Those melancholy eyes that seemed
To look beyond all time, or, turned
On eyes they loved, so softly beamed —
How few their mystic language learned.
How few could read their depths, or know
The proud, high heart that dwelt alone
In gorgeous palaces of woe,
Like Eblis on his burning throne.

For ah! no human heart could brook
That darkness of thy doom to share,
And not a living eye could look
Unscathed upon thy dread despair.

I mourn thee not: life had no lore
Thy soul in morphean dews to steep,
Love’s lost nepenthe to restore,
Or bid the avenging sorrow sleep.

Yet, while the night of life shall last,
While the slow stars above me roll,
In the heart’s solitudes I keep
A solemn vigil for thy soul.

I tread dim cloistral aisles, where all
Beneath are solemn-sounding graves;
While o’er the oriel, like a pall,
A dark, funereal shadow waves.

There, kneeling by a lampless shrine,
Alone amid a place of tombs,
My erring spirit pleads for thine
Till light along the orient blooms.

Oh, when thy faults are all forgiven,
The vigil of my life outwrought
In some calm altitude of heaven —
The dream of thy prophetic thought —

Forever near thee, soul in soul,
Near thee forever, yet how far,
May our lives reach love’s perfect goal
In the high order of thy star!

Part of the fun of administrating this website is hearing from YOU! This week, I was contacted by a gentleman named Russell, who told me that he grew up right next to Whitman’s Benefit Street home and St. John’s Cathedral while his father worked at Brown University. Russell’s former home stands prominently at 80 Benefit Street—its bright yellow color is as hard to miss as the deep red at 88 Benefit Street.

Living next to the notorious site where Edgar Allan Poe courted the lovely Sarah Helen Whitman naturally comes with some lore. One myth that I was able to dispel for Russell was one that he had heard during his youth while living on Benefit Street. The rumor was that the graveyard of St. John’s Cathedral inspired Poe’s most famous work, “The Raven.” As cool as that would be for Providence’s connection to Poe, it is, unfortunately, FALSE! Poe published “The Raven” in January, 1845, and his first visit to Providence was not until five months later. During that brief visit, we cannot even be sure that Poe saw the graveyard since he passed by in the pitch dark of night. Poe certainly spent time among the graves at St. John’s, but it was not until 1848 when he returned to Providence to formally court Whitman. At that point, his ebony bird had long made him a household name. Providence is connected to a few significant pieces of Poe history, but “The Raven” is not one of them.

Russell was kind enough to share a few personal photos with me that he allowed me to pass along here. The photos of his home on Benefit Street give us an interesting look at the area in earlier days.

Regrettably, I am four days late with this post, but better late than never! On January 19, 2020, we celebrated the 211th anniversary of the birth of Edgar Allan Poe as well as the 217th anniversary of the birth of Sarah Helen Whitman! That’s right, the two shared the same birthday, Whitman having been born six years earlier than Poe.

I cannot think of a better occasion to share the news that The Providence Athenaeum and I collaborated after the Ravenous Exhibit to bring Poe permanently to the Athenaeum. This iconic bust of Poe is a copy (of a copy) of the original that remains in my private collection. He will be displayed above the main entrance of the Athenaeum right below the windows of the Art Room. It has been an absolute honor to help bring attention to Poe here in Providence, and to allow his legacy to live on within the walls of this incredible institution— the same walls that surrounded Poe while he was here in 1848 courting Sarah Helen Whitman. I can only hope that this new addition will make future generations who enter the Athenaeum leave with a curiosity about the man portrayed in the melancholy bust above the entryway.

Here is a link to The Providence Athenaeum’s digital art collection containing more information about the bust: http://digital.provath.org/items/show/49?mc_cid=4ba337a329&mc_eid=131ec30ef6

A heavenly halo Kindles round thy brow;
Beyond the palms of Eden softly wave;
Bright messengers athwart the empyrean go,
And love to love makes answer o’er the
grave.

-Stanza from Whitman’s “To The Angel Of Death”