Was Anna Cora Mowat one of "Poe’s Women?"
When researching a fairly obscure historical figure like Anna Cora Mowatt, it is usually very exciting to see her mentioned by biographers of other more well-known figures. However, when I'm reading or listening to stories of Edgar Allan Poe's life and hear her name or see her picture flash on screen, I always cringe a little. There were several occasions when the paths of these two extraordinary individuals crossed -- sometimes in rather remarkable and unexpected ways. Unfortunately, though, writers and commentators tend to lump Mowatt into the category of "Poe's women." By this I mean that they assume that she is either one of the many ladies who became romantically entangled with the author or one with whom Poe was infatuated.
As you can probably imagine from the reaction I have already described, I have my own fairly firm opinions about the question of whether or not there was really any secret romance going on between these two celebrities of the 1840s. However, in this essay – as is the oft repeated slogan of a media outlet I shan’t name -- it is my intention to present the facts and leave you free to make your own decisions about the matter.
Early Encounters
The first possible instance of contact between Mowatt and Poe was likely to have occurred sometime in the early days of 1840 to 1841. At this point in their lives, neither had achieved the success that would bring them fame. Poe was working as an editor for Graham's Magazine. He was also a featured contributor.
James Mowatt's loss of fortune left Anna Cora struggling to help rescue the couple from certain financial ruin. She did this by selling her writing to magazines and newspapers. She published several poems in Graham's under her own name as well as various pen names.
In his short profile of her in his infamous "The Literati of New York,"(1846) Poe does not give any sign that he recalled Mowatt’s work from this time, saying;
In looking carefully over her poems, I find no one entitled to commendation as a whole; in very few of them do I observe even noticeable passages, and I confess that I am surprised and disappointed at this result of my inquiry; nor can I make up my mind that there is not much latent poetical power in Mrs. Mowatt. From some lines addressed to Isabel M——, I copy the opening stanza as the most favourable specimen which I have seen of her verse...1
I am not surprised that Poe was not impressed by Mowatt's poems. She never received the sort of critical acclaim for her poetry from her contemporaries to compare with her other types of work. In terms of literary achievement, her fame during her lifetime rested primarily on her reputation as a novelist and playwright. Despite the fact that Mowatt published a good number of poems in top-tier publications of the day such as the Columbian, Godey's, the Southern Literary Messenger, and the New World, there are no published collections of her work. The poems she chose to print using her own name tend to be quite conventional and well-suited to the popular tastes of her day in both content and format. Her more experimental works that might have drawn critical comment for their stylistic daring or sarcastic wit were published under pen names that made them hard to trace back to her hand.
Poe's description of Mowatt's brief career as a public reader in the "Literati" profile makes it appear that the writer may have seen her perform live;
She became first known through her recitations. To these she drew large and discriminating audiences in Boston, New York, and elsewhere to the north and east. Her subjects were much in the usual way of these exhibitions, including comic as well as serious pieces, chiefly in verse. In her selections she evinced no very refined taste, but was probably influenced by the elocutionary rather than by the literary value of her programmes. She read well; her voice was melodious; her youth and general appearance excited interest, but, upon the whole, she produced no great effect, and the enterprise may be termed unsuccessful, although the press, as is its wont, spoke in the most sonorous tones of her success.2
The writer’s use of phrases such as "she read well" and "her voice was melodious," make it sound a little as though Poe was writing about a performance he witnessed himself. It is also equally possible that he is merely recounting descriptions from the newspaper accounts he refers to at the end of the paragraph.
The poet Frances Osgood, (whose long-term flirtatious relationship with Poe quite definitely earns her a spot as one of his "women") did attend one of Mowatt's readings. Osgood could have relayed her impressions to Poe. On the other hand, a public reading of poetry was the type of event that would have likely piqued his interest. It would not have been out of character for him to have attended such an event.
As an example of Poe's standards in such things, I do want to draw attention to his comment on Mowatt's selection of material for her readings. According to him, she seemed to demonstrate "no very refined taste" and was probably choosing pieces purely for the theatrical effect they would have on the audience when spoken. If one examines the published programs for Mowatt's appearances, one will see that she packed the evening full of cheap thrills concocted by well-known literary hacks and rabble rousers such as Sir Walter Scott, Lord Byron, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, and Wordsworth. So, yeah, Poe had opinions and was not bashful about expressing them even when no one else shared them. In some cases, time has proved him to be more far-seeing than his peers. However, sometimes it is best to step back and evaluate the things he says with a big ol' literary genius-sized grain of salt...
Fortune and Fame
In 1845, we come to our most substantial interactions between Poe and Mowatt. The first takes place when both are on the very eve of fame. Poe had taken over as editor in chief of the Broadway Journal. On March 20th, Anna Cora Mowatt sent him a copy of the script of "Fashion" and the following letter:
Edgar A. Poe, Esqr., — (I regret that) I have not a more legible manuscript of the Comedy to submit to your perusal, or even one containing all the corrections made at the suggestion of critical advisers. The only fair copy is in the hands of the managers, and that I could not procure. Your criticisms will be prized — I am sorry that they could not have been made before preparations for the performance of the Comedy had progressed so far.
Will you have the goodness to return the manuscript at your earliest convenience, addressed James Mowatt, care Messrs. Judd & Taylor No. 2 Astor House? Respectfully yrs &c. 3
The play premiered a few short days later, on March 24, 1845. Poe's reply to Mowatt has been lost except for the signature which reads:
Very respectfully & admiringly
Yours, Edgar A Poe 4
It seems to have been the standard practice of the Mowatts to lend critics copies of the script of "Fashion" to aid in writing their reviews. The play was not published until after its London debut in 1849. Before that date, I have seen other reviewers reference the fact that they were looking at a copy of the script while writing their critique. In England, the Mowatts repeated the strategy of soliciting advice from key critics before the play's première at the Marylebone Theatre.
These letters are the only surviving instances of direct communication between Poe and Mowatt. Although their tone is cordial and friendly, these letters clearly seem to me to be examples of Victorian-era business correspondence. Obviously, I would love to see what Poe said in his lost reply to Mowatt, but the documents we do have, give us little insight into any intimate relationship between the two.
On January 29th, 1845, Poe's poem "The Raven" was published in the New York Mirror. By the time "Fashion" opened in March, the poem had appeared in a half-dozen other periodicals. Mowatt and Poe rose to national fame at exactly the same moment in U.S. history. The spring of 1845 was an exhilarating period for both of them.
In his capacity as drama critic for his Broadway Journal, Poe wrote not one, but two reviews of 'Fashion.' In the first, he criticized the play for as being an Americanized version of 'School for Scandal.' (I think he is right to observe that the script is more comedy of manners than melodrama. However the humor derived from the confusion over an anxiety over a letter is handled very differently in Sheridan's play than in 'Fashion.')
After viewing every performance of 'Fashion' for the next week of its run, Poe wrote a second review. This critique was much more complimentary to both the play and the cast. The change in tone in the second review is not surprising on one level, since Victorian-era theatrical troupes often went into performance with only minimal rehearsal. Beyond a more polished production, though, Poe found that there was merit he had overlooked in the play itself;
In one respect, perhaps, we have done Mrs. Mowatt unintentional injustice. We are not quite sure, upon reflection, that her entire thesis is not an original one. We can call to mind no drama, just now, in which the design can be properly stated as the satirizing of fashion as fashion. Fashionable follies, indeed, as a class of folly in general, have been frequently made the subject of dramatic ridicule — but the distinction is obvious — although certainly too nice a one to be of any practical avail save to the authoress of the new comedy. Abstractly we may admit some pretension to originality of plan — but, in the presentation, this shadow of originality vanishes.
We cannot, if we would, separate the dramatis personæ from the moral they illustrate; and the characters overpower the moral. We see before us only personages with whom we have been familiar time out of mind: — when we look at Mrs. Tiffany, for example, and hear her speak, we think of Mrs. Malaprop in spite of ourselves, and in vain endeavour to think of anything else. The whole conduct and language of the comedy, too, have about them the unmistakable flavor of the green-room. We doubt if a single point either in the one or the other, is not a household thing with every play-goer. Not a joke is any less old than the hills — but this conventionality is more markedly noticeable in the sentiments, so-called. When, for instance, Gertrude in quitting the stage, is made to say “if she fail in a certain scheme she will be the first woman who was ever at a loss for a stratagem,” we are affected with a really painful sense of the antique. Such things are only to be ranked with the stage “properties,” and are inexpressibly wearisome and distasteful to everyone who hears them. And that they are sure to elicit what appears to be applause, demonstrates exactly nothing at all. People at these points put their hands together, and strike their canes against the floor for the reason that they feel these actions to be required of them as a matter of course, and that it would be ill-breeding not to comply with the requisition. All the talk put into the mouth of Mr. Trueman, too, about “when honesty shall be found among lawyers, patriotism among statesmen,” etc. etc. must be included in the same category. The error of the dramatist lies in not estimating at its true value the absolutely certain “approbation” of the audience in such cases — an approbation which is as pure a conventionality as are the “sentiments” themselves. In general it may be boldly asserted that the clapping of hands and the rattling of canes are no tokens of the success of any play — such success as the dramatist should desire: — let him watch the countenances of his audience, and remodel his points by these. Better still — let him “look into his own heart and write” — again better still (if he have the capacity) let him work out his purposes à priori from the infallible principles of a Natural Art.
We are delighted to find, in the reception of Mrs. Mowatt’s comedy, the clearest indications of a revival of the American drama — that is to say of an earnest disposition to see it revived. That the drama, in general, can go down, is the most untenable of all untenable ideas. Dramatic art is, or should be, a concentralization of all that which is entitled to the appellation of Art. When sculpture shall fail, and painting shall fail, and poetry, and music; — when men shall no longer take pleasure in eloquence, and in grace of motion, and in the beauty of woman, and in truthful representations of character, and in the consciousness of sympathy in their enjoyment of each and all, then and not till then, may we look for that to sink into insignificance, which, and which alone, affords opportunity for the conglomeration of these infinite and imperishable sources of delight. 5
Poe saw potential in "Fashion" despite its flaws. He struggled to pinpoint the sources of its appeal, though he surmised that it had something to do with the rare and enigmatic phenomenon of the Broadway hit. Like "Fashion," these productions often seem to rely on formulaic or derivative elements that only become trite in hindsight. Poe, in many ways, is almost comically disinterested in performing the normal function expected of a newspaper drama critic of the time. He does not seem to care a whit about telling a theatre patron if they're getting good value for their ticket price. Instead, he presciently seems to be addressing us, readers from the future, trying to answer the question "Is there any valid reason why this play should wind up in theatre history books?" After repeated viewings, Poe decided to change his answer to yes.
Though he missed her debut as an actress in the role of Pauline in “The Lady of Lyons” at the Park Theatre in June, Poe saw all of Mowatt's performances at Niblo's Garden that summer and reviewed them. His glowing descriptions of the actress printed in the Broadway Journal from that summer have caused many to believe he was infatuated with her. Here is an example;
Of Mrs. Mowatt and of her acting, we have to speak only in terms of enthusiastic admiration. We have never had the pleasure of seeing her before -- and we presume that there are many of our readers who have never seen her. Her figure is slight -- even fragile -- but eminately graceful. Her face is a remarkably fine one, and of that precise character best adapted to the stage. The forehead is, perhaps, the least prepossessing feature, although it is by no means an unintellectual one. Hair light auburn, in rich profusion, and always arranged with exquisite taste. The eyes are gray, brilliant and expressive, without being full. The nose is well formed, with the Roman curve, and indicative of energy. This quality is also shown in the somewhat excessive prominence of the chin. The mouth is large, with brilliant and even teeth and flexible lips, capable of the most instantaneous and effective variations of expression. A more radiantly beautiful smile it is quite impossible to conceive. Mrs. Mowatt has also the personal advantage of a profusion of rich auburn hair.
Her manner on the stage is distinguished by an ease and self-possession which do credit to a veteran. Her step is very graceful and assured – indeed all her movements evince the practiced elocutionist. We watched her with the closest scrutiny and not for one instant did we observe in her an attitude of the least awkwardness, or even constraint, while many of her seemingly impulsive gestures spoke in loud terms of the woman of genius – of the poet deeply imbued with the truest sentiment of the beauty of motion.
Her voice is rich and voluminous, and though by no means powerful, so well managed as to seem so. Her utterance is singularly distinct – its sole blemish being an occasional Anglicism of accent, adopted probably from her instructor. In this respect, no actress in America is her equal, for she reads not theatrically, but with the emphasis of nature.6
Poe's mother, Eliza, who had died when the writer was only six years old, had been an accomplished singer and actress. Mowatt may have reminded him of her. He used one of his reviews of Mowatt to say proudly of his mother's profession and of his connection to her;
We have no sympathies with the prejudices which would entirely have dissuaded Mrs. Mowatt from the stage. There is no cant more contemptible than that which habitually decries the theatrical profession – a profession which, in itself, embraces all that can elevate and ennoble, and absolutely nothing to degrade. If some – if many – or if even nearly all of its members are dissolute, this is an evil arising not from the profession itself, but from the unhappy circumstances which surround it. With all these circumstances, Mrs. Mowatt has, at present, no concern. With talents, enthusiasm, and energy, she will both honor the stage and derive from it honor. In the mere name of actress she can surely find nothing to dread – nothing, or she would be unworthy of the profession – not the profession unworthy of her. The theatre is ennobled by its high facilities for the development of genius – facilities no afforded elsewhere in equal degree. By the spirit of genius, we say, it is ennobled – it is sanctified – beyond the sneer of the fool or the cant of the hypocrite.
The actor of talent is poor at heart indeed, if he does not look with contempt upon the mediocrity even of a king. The writer of this article himself is the son of an actress – has invariably made it his boast – and no earl was ever prouder of his earldom than he of his descent from a woman who, although well-born, hesitated no to consecrate to the drama her brief career of genius and of beauty.7
Making this kind of very personal statement in the middle of a critique of a play does make it seem like something about Mowatt or her performing style touched Poe on a very deep level. He praised her ability to convey emotional intensity in her work in the following vivid paragraph;
If the authoress of Fashion knew her own strength, she would confine herself, nearly altogether, to depicting in letters as well as on stage, the more gentle sentiments and more profound passions. Her sympathy with the latter is evidently more intense. In the utterance of the truly generous – of the really noble – of the unaffectedly passionate – we see her bosom heave – her cheek grow pale – her limbs tremble – her chiseled lip quiver – and nature’s own tear rush impetuously to the eye. Nor is it the freshness of the heart which will provide for her the greenest laurels. It is this enthusiasm – this well of deep feelings – which should be made to prove to her an exhaustless source of fame! As actress it is to her a mine of wealth – worth all the dawdling instructions in the world. Mrs. Mowatt as she now stands, is quite as able to give lessons in stage routine to any actor or actress in America as is any actor or actress to give lessons to her. Let her throw all support to the winds -- trust proudly to her own grace of manner -- her own sense of art -- her own rich and natural elocution -- and let her be assured of these qualities, as she now possesses them, are all sufficient, when considered simply as the means by which the great end of natural acting is to be consummated -- as the mere instruments by which she may effectively and unimpededly lay bare to the audience the movements of her own passionate heart.8
In case you may be thinking that it was Poe's common practice to throw such bouquet of praise to performers in his reviews, here's an example of a him living up to his nickname of 'the Tomahawk' as he chops to bits the flaws of the cast of "Faint Heart Never Won Fair Lady':
In Ruy Gomez, Mr. Crisp was intolerable. He entirely misconceives the character. The Spaniard, as designed by Planche, is a dashing, ardent, chivalric cavalier, urged to the extreme of audacity by the madness of his passion, but preserving through all a true dignity, and the most uncompromising respect for the lady of his love. Mr. Crisp makes him an impudent trickster – at times even a vulgar, chuckling mountebank – occasionally a simpering buffoon. The Marquis of Santa Cruz was well represented by Nickerson. Miss Taylor spoke and stepped more like a chambermaid than like a princess.9
As an actress, Poe's reviews give evidence that he quite definitely thought Mowatt was something special. In the summer of 1845, he was a fan. However, there is no evidence that the two corresponded or met after performances.
Paths Diverge
In the fall of 1845, Mowatt began to tour the U.S. with her troublesome leading man, William Crisp. Because she was a newcomer to the theater who became a star overnight, her first nine months on the road involved not only a constant schedule of travel of performance, but a hefty load of new characters to master. By the time that Mowatt arrived back in New York in May of 1846, she had memorized lines and blocking for over twenty-five leading roles. She and her husband took most of that summer off to rest, recover, and find a replacement for William Crisp.
There are no further Poe reviews for Mowatt plays or performances. By the time the actress blew back into town with her new hit play "Armand" and new acting partner, E.L. Davenport, the writer had long disappeared from the scene. The Broadway Journal had folded during the year before. Poe's young wife, Virginia, had succumbed to tuberculosis in January.
Mowatt left the U.S. for England in the fall of 1847. During the tempestuous period when Poe was in a series of relationships -- and even near-marriages -- with a number of female companions, such as Fanny Osgood, Sarah Helen Whitman, Annie Richmond, and Sarah Elmira Royster, Mowatt was an ocean away. The writer died in October of 1849, three years before the actress returned to the U.S.
Miscellaneous Connections
There are a few connections between Poe and Mowatt that reach beyond his demise. In 1854, Mowatt married William Foushee Ritchie, editor of the Richmond Enquirer. Poe had also grown up in the city. William Foushee and Edgar Allan had both been a part of the same drama club during their teenage years.
Anna Cora, William Foushee, and Edgar Allan were also all friends of John Reuben Thompson, who was one of the editors of the Southern Literary Messenger. Thompson and Poe worked together at that journal. Happenstance made Thompson one of the last known individuals to see Poe alive. The writer had traveled to Richmond to keep an appointment with him before his mysterious disappearance.
J.R. Thompson was a close friend of the Ritchies and often visited their home in the 1850s. Anna Cora and William Foushee resided in downtown Richmond. The retired actress still wrote novels and short stories during her residence in Virginia. She enjoyed hosting parties for other people with similar interests. Thompson was a frequent guest at Anna Cora’s literary soirees.
Sarah Hale Whitman was a dear friend of Anna Cora's sister May and her husband Cephas Giovanni Thompson, the artist who painted the famous portrait of her. In her quest to undo the damage done to Poe's reputation done by Rufus Griswold's poison-pen biography, Whitman contacted Anna Cora to see if she could find out if John Rueben Thompson had testimony that could contradict stories spread by Griswold about Poe's drunkenness, womanizing, and other misbehavior during the period of his life when he was associated with the Southern Literary Messenger. Anna Cora seems to have forwarded her request to Thompson. Thompson's recollections of Poe from those years do not paint him as the debauched, eye-rolling drunkard that Griswold claimed he was, but probably did not exonerate him as completely as Whitman may have wished.
Not fully appreciating that their contributions to the debate over Poe's reputation were at Whitman's persistent solicitation, Poe biographers and fans sometimes scold Thompson and Mowatt for butting in and offering commentary on the author's habits seemingly out of the blue. It is also crucial to put their response in the context of Griswold's attack. We forget that Poe's death was followed not by a wave of tributes to his genius, but rather by a vigorous campaign of character assassination against him by Griswold. Following a comment of "This person was possibly the greatest poet of our generation!" with "Okay, but let's acknowledge that he had a pretty big drinking problem" is a very different thing than having the leading comment on a public figure’s legacy being, "This person was a raving drug and sex-crazed lunatic!" then having someone else say, "All right, we'll grant that he had a drinking problem, but..."
Conclusion
In summary, Poe and Mowatt's acquaintance was brief but memorable. In her autobiography, the actress called him "my sternest critic."10 They seem to have made quite a strong impression on each other. In my opinion, their relationship went no further than this. They simply did not encounter each other at points in their lives when there was time and space in their careers and personal lives for anything else more substantial to develop. The historical record gives us no evidence to suggest any stronger relationship on either side.
However, records do not account for every moment that passed between 1840 and 1847. Countless letters could have been lost or purposefully destroyed. What happened to the rest of the letter that Poe wrote to Mowatt? Who cut up the letter but saved the signature? Why? Why did Poe write so warmly about Mowatt in the summer of 1845 and then take such a cold, dismissive tone in his profile for his "Literati" profile composed just one year later? As I said at the beginning of this essay, I have presented the facts as I have uncovered, but I leave you to draw your own conclusions. What do you think? Is there possibly a story between the lines that we don't know?
Notes:
Poe, Edgar Allan. “Literati of New York: Some Honest Opinions at Random Respecting Their Authorial Merits, with Occasional Words of Personality, No. II,” Godey's Lady's Book, June, 1846. Pages 40-56.
Ibid, page 40.
Anna C. Mowatt to Edgar Allan Poe. March 20, 1845
Edgar A. Poe to Anna C. Mowatt. March 24, 1845.
Edgar Allan Poe. “Prospects of the Drama – Mrs. Mowatt’s Comedy.” The Broadway Journal, April 5, 1845. Pages 125 -128.
Edgar Allan Poe. “The Drama.” The Broadway Journal, July 19, 1845. Pages 184.
Ibid.
Edgar Allan Poe. “The Drama.” The Broadway Journal, August 2, 1845. Pages 210
Ibid.
Mowatt, Anna Cora. Autobiography of an Actress; Eight Years on the Stage. Boston: Ticknor, Reed and Fields, 1854. Page 213.
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