Short Story

THE WHISPERING COTTAGE

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

“It’s a nice house, don’t you think, Virginia? The property is a decent size. And the fresh air! Just what the doctor ordered.” 

Finding the perfect house for his ailing wife was first and foremost on Edgar’s mind.  

Encouragingly, he continued: “It’s quite affordable at $5 a month! Downstairs there’s one bedroom, the parlor and a nice kitchen which your mother will put to good use. And upstairs is another bedroom for us with my very own writing niche.”  

From their carriage Virginia smiled at her husband, covering her mouth with a  handkerchief as the deep cough began again. Edgar hurried to her side and she stared lovingly into his eyes. “Yes, my dear. I think we will be very happy here.”  

“Then it’s settled! I’ll finalize the rental while you rest here.” Before returning to the cottage Edgar covered Virginia with a blanket to protect her from the cool April breeze. 

Sitting in the carriage with her mother, Virginia gazed at the cottage. “A lovely little home for the three of us, Mother.” Closing her eyes, Virginia pictured their caged songbirds on the porch, a rocking chair nearby where she could rest in the sun and work on her needlepoint.

“Virginia, I’ve been waiting for you“

Opening her eyes, Virginia asked her mother to repeat what she just said, but Maria assured her she had said nothing. Again Virginia closed her eyes and again she heard the gentle voice in her ear.

 “Virginia, welcome home”

An unusual peace came over Virginia as she realized it was the cottage whispering to her. “My lovely forever home”, she thought. 

They moved in on a beautiful day in May of 1846 and they were happy there. In the evenings after eating a modest meal prepared by Maria, Edgar worked on his poem “Eulalie” while the family cat sprawled across his shoulders and Virginia dozed by the fireplace.

How Virginia glowed with happiness that gloriously sunny day as Edgar proudly displayed the etched wooden signpost which read “POE COTTAGE”.

But even with constant care, sunshine and fresh air, Virginia’s consumption became worse, her waif-like body wracked with fits of coughing. 

In January Virginia’s health began to fail rapidly. Edgar stayed by her side day and night, reading to her, until at last on January 30, Virginia heard the whispering cottage beckoning her. 

She died peacefully that night in Edgar’s warm embrace as he softly recited –

“This maiden she lived with no other thought
than to love and be loved by me.”

NAR © 2023

Author’s Note: The Poe Cottage is the former home of American writer Edgar Allan Poe. It is located on Kingsbridge Road and the Grand Concourse in the Fordham neighborhood of The Bronx, New York, a short distance from its original location and about 20 minutes from the house where I grew up. I was privileged to visit Poe’s house many times. The cottage is now located in the northern part of Poe Park and is part of the Historic House Trust, listed on the National Register Of Historic Places, administered by The Bronx County Historical Society since 1975. It is believed to have been built in 1797.

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21 thoughts on “THE WHISPERING COTTAGE”

  2. I love your writing. You brought some history to life and taught me something new about Poe with this post.

    I suspect his wife died of TB. It’s usually traumatic to lose a spouse, but it must have been much more so for a man of such troubled spirit.

    I’ll bet it was fascinating to visit his old cottage.

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    1. Yes, Virginia had TB, what was called ‘consumption’ back then.
      I’m so glad you enjoyed this, Tippy; I wanted to make it believable by including facts but needed the right blend of fiction. I hope I got the right mix.
      The cottage is quite small and humble, simple and not at all where you’d expect Poe to live. But let’s not forget … before he lost Virginia, he was in love and the cloud that followed him was not quite as dark.
      Thanks for your wonderful comments.

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    1. Very true, D! There was a stillness, almost a thick feeling about the air inside the cottage. It was not a light and frivolous place; there was real depth, from the quilt on the bed to the pans hanging in the kitchen. It felt like being in church. ❤︎

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  5. All your posts are wonderful. This is one of my favorites!!

    I don’t know how you do it. Writing so many and from each we learn something new.
    I am at the computer all day and produce about one (1) post. I do have several started for further use, but they are always short…but sweet. 😉

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