That in New York Poe did not at first succeed according to his expectations is rendered evident by the fact that in the following October, he being ill, Mrs. Clemm applied to N. P. Willis for some employment for him, who gave him a place in his office as assistant editor. Willis says that Mrs. Clemm's countenance as she pleaded for her son-in-law was "beautiful and saintly by reason of an evident complete giving up of her life to privation and sorrowful tenderness" for those whom she loved. Of Poe, he says that he was "a quiet, patient, industrious and most gentlemanly person, commanding the utmost respect and good feeling of every one." He also says, in speaking of a lecture which he delivered about this time before the New York Lyceum, and which was attended by several hundred persons: "He becomes a desk; his beautiful head showing like a statuary embodiment of Discrimination—his accent like a knife through water."
It was now—in January, 1845—that The Raven was published in the Evening Mirror, taking the world by storm. Probably no one was more surprised at its immediate success than was Poe himself, who, as he afterwards stated to a friend, had never had much opinion of the poem. He now found himself elevated to the highest rank of American literary fame, and with this his worldly fortune should also have risen, yet we find him going on in the same rut as before, writing but little for the magazine and for that little being poorly paid—too poorly to enable the family to live in any degree of comfort. From one cheap lodging to another they removed, with such frequency as to suggest to us the suspicion that their rent was not always ready when due.
But after some time the old discontent returned upon Poe. Willis and the Mirror were too narrow for him; and he sought and was fortunate enough to obtain a place on the Broadway Journal, at that time the leading journal of the day, and of which he was soon appointed assistant editor.
With a good salary, the family were now enabled to live in more comfort. They rented a front and back room on the third story of an old house on East Broadway, which had once been the residence of a prosperous merchant, but had long ago been given over to the use of poor but respectable tenants. It was musty and mouldy, but here they were elevated somewhat above the noise and dust of the street, and had sunlight and a good view from the narrow windows.
It was here that, late one evening, Mr. R. H. Stoddard, whose sarcastic pen is so well known, called on Poe instead of at his office, to inquire the fate of a certain "Ode" which he had sent to the Broadway Journal for publication. Necessarily he was received in the front room, which was Virginia's. The following is his account of the visit:
"Poe received me with the courtesy habitual with him when he was himself, and gave me to understand that my Ode would be published in the next number of his paper.... What did he look like?... He was dressed in black from head to foot, except, of course, that his linen was spotlessly white.... The most noticeable things about him were his high forehead, dark hair and sharp, black eye. His cousin-wife, always an invalid, was lying on a bed between himself and me. She never stirred, but her mother came out of the back parlor and was introduced to me by her courtly nephew."
Stoddard is here mistaken in his description of Poe's eyes. They were neither sharp nor black, but large, soft, dreamy eyes, of a fine steel-gray, clear as crystal, and with a jet-black pupil, which would in certain lights expand until the eyes appeared to be all black. Stoddard continues:
"I saw Poe once again, and for the last time. It was a rainy afternoon, such as we have in our November, and he was standing under an awning waiting for the shower to pass over. My conviction was that I ought to offer him my umbrella and go home with him, but I left him standing there, and there I see him still, and shall always, poor and penniless, but proud, reliant, dominant. May the gods forgive me! I never can forgive myself."
In April, five months after this time, Poe's old habits unfortunately returned upon him. Mr. Lowell one day, in passing through New York, called to see him, when Mrs. Clemm excused his "strange actions" by frankly stating that "Edgar was not himself that day." She afterward made the same statement to Mr. Briggs, whose assistant editor Poe was, and who writes, June, 1845, to Lowell: "I believe he had not drank anything for more than eighteen months until the last three months, and concludes that he would have to dispense with his services. The matter was settled, however, by Poe's proposing to buy the Broadway Journal, hoping to make of it in a measure what he had desired for the Stylus. The prospect seemed to promise fair enough for its success, and Mr. Greeley and Mr. Griswold each generously contributed a sum of fifty dollars; but the plan finally failed for want of sufficient funds, George Poe, to whom Edgar applied, remembering his former unpaid loan, making no response to his appeal. This was another great disappointment to Poe, just as on former occasions his hopes seemed on the point of realization. Thus, in whatsoever direction he turned, grim poverty faced and frowned him down. Surely, it was enough to discourage him; and yet to the end of his life he eagerly followed this illusive hope.
Mrs. Clemm, too, who had in this time been trying to support the family by keeping a boarding-house, also met with her disappointments. For some reason her boarders never remained long with her, and the family, who had removed to obscure lodgings on Amity street, now found themselves in one of their frequent seasons of poverty and distress.