Richmond, October 11th, 1849
My Dear Mrs. Clemm,
Oh, how shall I address you, my dear, and deeply afflicted friend under such heart-rending circumstances! I have no doubt, ere this, you have heard of the death of our dear Edgar! Yes, he was the dearest object on earth to me: and, well assured am I, that he was the pride of your heart.
I have not been able to get any of the particulars of his sickness and death, except an abstract from the Baltimore Sun, which said that he died on Sunday, the 7th of this month, with congestion of the brain, after an illness of 7 days.
He came up to my house on the evening of the 26th of September to take leave of me. He was very sad, and complained of being quite sick. I felt his pulse and found he had considerable fever, and did not think it probable he would be able to start the next morning (Thursday) as he anticipated. I felt so wretched about him all of that night, that I went up early next morning to inquire after him, when, much to my regret, he had left in the boat for Baltimore.
He expected certainly to have been with his "dear Muddy" on the Sunday following, when he promised to write to me. And after the expiration of a week, and no letter, I became very uneasy, and continued in an agonizing state of mind, fearing he was ill, but never dreamed of his death, until it met my eye in glancing casually over a Richmond paper of last Tuesday.
Oh, my dearest friend, I cannot begin to tell you what my feelings were, as the horrible truth forced itself upon me! It was the most severe trial I have ever had. And God alone knows how I can bear it. My heart is overwhelmed. Yes, ready to burst!
How can I, dear Muddy, speak comfort to your bleeding heart? I cannot say to you weep not, mourn not, but I do say, do both, for he is worthy to be lamented. Oh, my dear Edgar, shall I never behold your dear face and hear your sweet voice saying, "Dearest Muddy!" and "Dearest Elmira?" How can I bear the separation?
The pleasure I had anticipated on his return with you, dear friend, to Richmond was too great ever to be realized, and should teach me the folly of expecting bliss on earth. If it will be any consolation to you, my dear friend, to know that there is one who feels for you all that human can feel, then be assured that person is Elmira.
Willingly would I fly to you, if I could add to your comfort, or take from your sorrows. I wrote you a few weeks ago. I hope you received the letter. It was through the request of my dearest Eddy that I did so and when I told him I had written to you, his joy and delight were inexpressible.
I hope you will write to me as soon as possible and let me hear from you, as I shall be anxious about you incessantly until I do. Farewell, my stricken Friend, and may an All-Wise and Merciful God sustain and comfort us under this heart-breaking dispensation, is the fervent and hourly prayer of your afflicted and sympathizing friend.
Elmira Shelton
(Elmira Shelton was Poe's Richmond childhood sweetheart and current fiancee at the time of his death.)
Baltimore, Oct. 11, 1849My Dear Madam,
I would to God I could console you with the information that your dear son Edgar A. Poe is still among the living. The newspapers, in announcing his death, have only told a truth, which we may weep over and deplore, but cannot change. He died on Sunday morning, about 5 o’clock, at the Washington Medical College, where he had been since the Wednesday preceding. At what time he arrived in this city, where he spent the time he was here or under what circumstances, I have been unable to ascertain.
It appears that, on Wednesday, he was seen and recognized at one of the places of election in old town, and that his condition was such as to render it necessary to send him to the College, where he was tenderly nursed until the time of his death. As soon as I heard that he was at the College, I went over, but his physicians did not think it advisable that I should see him, as he was very excitable. The next day I called and sent him changes of linen and was gratified to learn that he was much better. And I was never so much shocked, in my life, as when, on Sunday morning, notice was sent to me that he was dead. Mr. Herring and myself immediately took the necessary steps for his funeral, which took place on Monday afternoon at four o’clock. He lies alongside his ancestors in the Presbyterian burial ground on Green Street.
I assure you, my dear madam, that, if I had known where a letter would reach you, I would have communicated the melancholy tidings in time to enable you to attend his funeral — but I was wholly unaware of how to address you. The body was followed to the grave by Mr. Herring, Dr. Snodgrass, Mr. Z. Collins Lee, and myself. The service was performed by the Reverend William T. D. Clemm, a son of James T. Clemm -- your distant relative. Mr. Herring and myself have sought, in vain, for the trunk and clothes of Edgar. There is reason to believe that he was robbed of them, whilst in such a condition as to render him insensible of his loss.
I shall not attempt the useless task of consoling you under such a bereavement. Edgar has seen so much of sorrow – had so little reason to be satisfied with life – that, to him, the change can scarcely be said to be a misfortune. If it leaves you lonely in this world of trouble, may I be allowed the friendly privilege of expressing the hope that, in the contemplation of all the world to which he has gone and to which we are all hastening, you will find consolations enduring and all sufficient. I shall be glad, at all times, to hear from you, and to alleviate, in every way in my power, the sorrows to which this dispensation may expose you. I only wish my ability was equal to my disposition.
My wife unites with me in expressions of sympathy.
Truly your friend and servant,
Neilson Poe
(Neilson Poe was Edgar's Baltimore cousin.)
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