Part 7

Regretfully, Herbert went back to his violin and with some of his schoolmates organized a little orchestra which did so well that they were soon playing at church sociables. Herbert’s music attracted so much attention that he was offered the second violinist chair with the Toronto Philharmonic Orchestra of some fifty players. Here the thirteen-year-old boy learned much good music.

One day he persuaded his mother to let him “try just once” to play his brother’s silver cornet. She was so surprised at his performance that she asked Ed to hear him. As a result Herbert was allowed to play in his brother’s small orchestra at the opening of a new restaurant. The fifty cents he received was the first money he had ever made from music.

This spurred him on to further practice and to begin saving money to buy his own cornet. He shoveled snow furiously at twenty-five cents a job, but at the end of a month his cornet seemed far away. His father, usually so generous, refused to contribute a cent to this cause.

Discouraged, Herbert decided to try for a job playing with the Government Regiment Band as he had heard that they furnished instruments free to those who did not own them. In spite of the fact that he was only fourteen, he was accepted and took the oath of allegiance to Queen Victoria for service. The bandmaster gave him a cornet, a plain brass one with badly corroded slides; but he happily cleaned it up and polished it till it glistened like new. No one worked harder than Herbert. With distended cheeks and bulging eyes he practiced faithfully.

His big day soon came. At the opening of Canadian Parliament he put on his regimental uniform to perform guard duty. In twelve below zero weather the band marched through snowy and icy streets. At first he could not keep step and hold his mouthpiece in place. Then the cornet froze to his lips. It not only made no sound, but it took the skin when he removed it. His proud schoolmates who trooped along home with him after the parade did not know that their hero had not played a note during the entire march.

That fall after a hard fought football game, Herbert contracted pneumonia and was kept in bed from December till April. His brother Ed who was now playing a violin in an orchestra felt so sorry for Herbert that he allowed him to use his cornet. Father relented enough to say, “Get well, son, and I’ll let you play the cornet since nothing else will do. That is, if you behave yourself and keep your school work up to the mark.” Herbert returned to school and was graduated with his class in 1884.

Then his family moved again--this time to Indianapolis, Indiana. There, fortunately, each musician had his own room. Herbert and his cornet, Ern and his trombone, Ed and his violin, Mr. Clarke and his organ. Besides, the boys and their father began playing together. Many unsigned notes were left in the Clarke’s mailbox, all expressing the same thought--that the family was the “neighborhood nuisance” and that “they should take their instruments and move to the country.”

Herbert got a job playing at a roller skating rink for fourteen dollars a week and proudly began to pay board at home, a dollar a week. Now he was making enough money to buy his own cornet. Although it was not a silver-plated one like Ed’s, it was a prized possession.

The boy’s ambition was fired again when Patrick Gilmore’s band came to play in Indianapolis. Herbert met them at the station and, standing first on one foot then on the other, tried to get enough courage to ask to carry the great Gilmore’s bag to the hotel. Failing in this he sat in a front seat at the concert where he could see every move of the musicians as well as marvel at their technique. Then and there he vowed that some day he would play in Gilmore’s band, the only traveling band in the country at that time.

Still thinking of Gilmore the next morning, he was up early to practice when a call from his father interrupted, “A letter for you, Herbert. Come on down!” Will, the oldest son who had remained in business in Toronto, had written glowingly of a job he had found for Herbert in a store. Mr. Clarke was sure that this was a fine opportunity for his young son, and he cited instances of many wealthy and respected citizens who had started with similar jobs. With visions of wealth and prestige, Herbert left home to try for a business career.

Upon his arrival his hopes were a bit dashed when he learned that he would be paid only ten dollars a month. So that he would not have to pay any lodging, his brother Will allowed him to sleep in the upstairs room of his boathouse. The boy was always cold, but he was too proud to ask for help from home. When summer came, he began playing with the Regimental Band and that trebled his income.

Herbert began to doubt that his career was business as his music interest grew. He said, “There is something that makes me restless and only music will overcome it.” One day at the store he was discovered working on cornet solos and drawing staves on brown wrapping paper. For this he was reprimanded by his manager and later lectured by Will. Before he could be fired, however, a telegram came for him.

He had received an offer to play at English’s Opera in Indianapolis at fifteen dollars a week. This he accepted with alacrity. Back in Indianapolis he found that his income was sufficient for him to buy the books and music he wanted for the cornet. He studied all the music magazines and _Orban’s Method_ faithfully, and worked hard trying to devise a method of his own. He sat where he could watch good cornetists at concerts then went home to practice for hours trying to imitate them. Clarke, in writing of these years, said, “No one will ever know the many obstacles I had to overcome in the early part of my career.” But his love for the cornet kept him at work in spite of many disappointments.

The next year at the age of eighteen, Herbert won the cornet championship at the state band contest in Evansville, Indiana. Henry Dustin, celebrated instrument maker, presented him with a gold-plated and elaborately engraved baby cornet with an oval bell. Six and a half inches long and five inches high, this was the smallest cornet ever made, and it could actually be played.

Herbert went to visit his parents who now lived in Rochester, New York, and at their urging, patiently canvassed the town for a job. But when he received an offer from the Citizens Band in Toronto, who wanted him as cornet soloist, the pleas of his father fell upon a mind already made up. “My career must be music as it is so continually thrust upon me,” he decided once and for all.

Back in Toronto he reenlisted with the Queen’s Own Regiment. Then the ambitious young man organized and led an industrial band of thirty employees of the Taylor Safe Works Company. For this, his first directing work, he spent long hours before his mirror, wielding his baton with different rhythms until he could use it easily.

His reputation as a musician spread and the Toronto Conservatory of Music hired him as instructor in “violin, viola, cornet and all brass instruments.” In the fall of 1890 Clarke was honorably discharged from the Regimental Band so he could lead a forty-man band for the Heintzman Piano Company.

Clarke also formed a little company he called “The Canadian Trio.” They gave concerts all over Ontario, and in a short time Herbert Clarke was known as “Canada’s Favorite Cornet Soloist.”

But he was to receive a still greater honor--a chance to try out for a place in Gilmore’s Band. He went to New York and passed a strenuous test of both ability and endurance.

At twenty-four he had realized his teen-age dream of being a soloist with the great Gilmore and of traveling over the country with him. Two Clarke brothers occupied solo chairs--Ernest, trombone and Herbert, cornet. The band began by touring the New England States, then played a month at Madison Square Garden in New York City. Manhattan Beach was the next engagement, and then the St. Louis exposition. Here Patrick Gilmore suddenly died.

Speaking of this time Clarke wrote, “Back in New York and broke, I played at the new Manhattan Theater and any place I could get work. To avoid paying carfare, I walked many miles to and from my jobs.”

But the next year he joined Sousa’s Band for a tour of the United States and Europe and remained with him for several years. Clarke, encouraged by Arthur Pryor, twenty-three-year-old trombone soloist with the band, began writing his own solos.

Many times between tours the musicians were without work and salary. During these years Clarke played with various groups, among them Victor Herbert’s 22nd Regiment Band and the New York Philharmonic Orchestra.

Then he rejoined Sousa for another great tour. When they returned from Europe, Clarke took over the American Band in Providence, Rhode Island. At the same time he led the bands of three regiments. After a year he resigned and filled engagements under the name of Clarke’s Providence Band.

However, when Sousa called to ask that Clarke rejoin him for a world tour, he was greatly tempted. He was ready to play solos again and leave booking problems behind him. He consoled his wife and three children by promising to take them with him on the 1905 European tour. “My life seemed to be one of change,” wrote Clarke. “But I surely gained experience in all kinds of music.”

From 1904 till 1917 Herbert Clarke, the self-taught cornetist, was soloist and assistant conductor of Sousa’s great band. On the podium he had the same appearance and directing style as Sousa. Outstanding as an arranger of band music, Clarke was invaluable. The two men worked together through all these years in confidential relationship.

Between tours Clarke spent more time on the farm which he had bought near Reading, Pennsylvania, getting acquainted with his family and teaching and practicing. He told of his small daughter forgetting him after a long tour and running to tell her mother that a strange man was at the door.

At the age of forty-five Clarke began to think of retiring from concert work. He went to Elkhart, Indiana, to head the cornet and trumpet department of C. G. Conn’s large factory with the understanding that he be released for tours with Sousa. Clarke held this position until Mr. Conn sold his factory in 1915.

As a young man Clarke had declared that he would leave the concert field at the age of fifty. He insisted that he wanted to “quit in good standing, stay in one place, sleep in the same bed every night and quit traveling all over the world.”

In September, 1917, Clarke severed his connection with Sousa’s band and accepted an offer to conduct the band of the Anglo-American Leather Company in Huntsville, Canada. At the end of this five year contract, Clarke moved to Los Angeles, California, where he planned to spend the rest of his life. No sooner had he got well started in teaching cornet and in launching a correspondence course than he accepted the leadership of the Long Beach, California, Municipal Band, for a six-month period.

Under Clarke’s baton this band of twenty-five musicians grew to fifty-two and the six months lengthened to twenty years. Then Clarke’s physician ordered him to retire from work.

During his many years of public service, Herbert Clarke made an enviable record. The degree of Doctor of Music was conferred upon him by Phillips University in 1934. He was the author of four books on the cornet. He traveled all over the world with the greatest bands of his day, having made thirty-four tours of the United States and four of Europe. He played over 6,000 programmed concert solos.

Among his popular compositions are _Aloha Oe_, _Whirlwind Polka_, _Ah Cupid_, and _Long Beach Is Calling_. He made more phonograph records than any other cornet player, both in the United States and in Europe. _Sounds of the Hudson_ and _Debutante_ are among those that have inspired thousands with their flawless technique. His records were still listed in the catalogs well into the 1920’s and many cornetists play them today.

As a teacher Dr. Clarke had pupils from all over the world seeking his counsel and guidance. He told them, “You can be a great cornet player if you wish. There is no such thing as a born cornetist. Each is made by and for himself.”

Dr. Clarke had a keen interest in school and college bands and was in great demand as guest conductor and lecturer at national band contests and clinics. His kindly mannerisms and warm friendliness endeared him to young and old alike.

Bringing joy and happiness to others through his music and his encouragement had made a full life for Herbert Clarke who died January 30, 1945, in Long Beach, California.

In 1948 a monument was unveiled and dedicated to Dr. Clarke in the Congressional Cemetery in Washington, D. C. It was erected by the Pennsylvania Bandmasters’ Association in collaboration with the American Bandmasters’ Association and the Sousa Band Fraternal Society. On this monument not far from that of his beloved friend, Sousa, are these words: Herbert Lincoln Clarke, _World’s Premiere Cornetist and Bandmaster_.

This memorial was erected to a man who had never had a cornet lesson in his life, to a man who was known the world over as a great artist and a great gentleman.

KARL KING

“Mister, can you tell me where the circus lot is?” asked the tall lanky eighteen-year-old Karl King.

“Yep, it’s right down that road, son. But if you’re looking for the show, it left a week ago--where it went I don’t know,” answered the old man as he walked on down the street.

Karl, laying his baritone horn carefully on the ground, sank wearily to the curb. Taking a crumpled letter from his pocket, he read it again. “Yes, the Yankee Robinson Show bandmaster did say that I was to report here in Emporia, Kansas, today for a job,” he said to himself. “And here I am with just eighty-seven cents in my pocket, and the circus has left town.”

Fortunately for him a circus follower, who had been left behind, came along the street and stopped to question the dejected-looking young man:

“The Yankee Robinson Shows? Come on with me. I’m following them too. They went off without me, but we’ll catch them.”

With his help Karl caught up with the circus a few days later and began a career that has made history.

Karl King, a true Midwesterner, was born in Paintersville, Ohio, February 21, 1891 to Sandusky L. and Anna King. Before he could walk, Karl’s parents noticed his fascination for music, and when very young he began to study music. He sold papers on the streets of Canton to make money to buy his first horn.

Karl’s urge for writing and composing was the talk of the neighborhood. His first march written at fourteen was sold three years later for ten dollars. Shortly after this a road show piano player gave him a lesson in harmony and taught him to play chords on the piano, and that was the only technical instruction he was to have outside of his own study. Like Herbert Clarke, Karl King is a self-educated musician.

He became baritone soloist with Thayer Military Academy Band of Canton, Ohio, at sixteen. Other similar jobs followed with such organizations as Weddemeyer’s Band of Columbus, Ohio, and the Soldier’s Home Band of Danville, Illinois.

This was work he enjoyed, but it was necessary for him to help support himself. At the age of thirteen he began setting type and doing other odd jobs for the newspaper, the Canton, Ohio, _Repository_, even trying his hand at reporting.

Then at eighteen came the exciting letter offering him a job with the Yankee Robinson Circus. That changed the pattern of his life and he began trouping.

The combined Sells-Floto and Buffalo Bill Wild West Show owner soon heard about this young musician and hired him for their bandmaster. His fame spread, and at the age of twenty-three he was directing the Barnum and Bailey Circus Band, the youngest man ever to hold that position.

As the circus traveled from one place to another, Karl would find a quiet corner where he could compose music. He knew that better music was needed for the circus, and he wrote original and catchy marches and waltzes which were very popular with the performers.

While the circus was at Madison Garden in New York City, Lillian Leitzel, the great woman aerialist, asked him to write some special music for her act as she had never liked her music. King, inspired by her beauty and grace, wrote a special waltz for her act. The melody and rhythm gave her wings she insisted, and for the rest of her life she refused to have any change made in her musical accompaniment.

“In 1918,” said King, “I thought I should settle down and devote more time to my composing.” So he left the circus life and returned to Canton, Ohio, where he became the conductor of the famous Grand Army Band.

Two years later Karl King went to Fort Dodge, Iowa, to lead their municipal band, “the premier concert band of Iowa.” He established there the Karl King Publishing Company which he still owns and manages.

In spite of his colorful career, Karl King, a handsome, six-foot-four-inch giant with piercing dark eyes, is noted for his modesty and unassuming manners.

But he has reason to boast about many things. He has numerous devoted friends in the musical world who realize what he has done. He is past president of the American Bandmasters’ Association and of the Iowa Bandmasters’ Association. For years this militant and enthusiastic champion of bands and band music has been a guest conductor of massed band festivals in nearly every state in the Union.

Karl King has written more than 200 compositions, some of which most people have heard in various places or over the radio. Among the college marches he wrote are: _Hawkeye Glory_ for the University of Iowa; _Mighty Minnesota_ for the University of Minnesota; _The War March of the Tartars_ for Wayne University; and _Pride of the Illini_ for the University of Illinois; and _Michigan on Parade_ for University of Michigan. _Ponderoso_, _Barnum and Bailey Favorite March_ and _Moonlight on the Nile_ waltz are also favorites.

Maestro King is married and has one son, Karl Jr. Their home and business is in Fort Dodge, Iowa, and he is proud to direct the hometown band. Fort Dodge is proud of Karl King who, since 1920, has advertised their town the country over with one of the few big bands that has had a continuous existence of many years.

THE BAND OF HAGERSTOWN

The municipal band of Hagerstown, Maryland, organized in 1915 has the city government solidly back of its well-known band and its noted leader, Dr. Peter Buys. Their summer concerts in the city park draw huge audiences and they are in demand for out-of-town engagements. Dr. Buys, composer, conductor, and teacher, came to America from Amsterdam, Holland, in 1902. For nine years he arranged music for Sousa’s Band. Since 1920 he has been the Director of Music of Hagerstown. He has worked continuously with the pioneers in the band field and takes an active part in school band festivals and clinics over the country.

Dr. Peter Buys and Karl King have done a great service to our country by proving that a municipal band of high artistic merit can make a continued contribution to the cultural and entertainment life of their communities.

PHILADELPHIA’S MUMMERS’ PARADE

Everyone loves a parade, particularly if it has a band in it. For the better part of a century municipal festival parades have been a tradition in some of the large cities of our country from New York to California.

But one of the most fantastic is the Mummers’ Parade in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, on New Years Day. It is said to have originated in the early 1800’s, when it was led by Eph Horn, the famous minstrel. However, the only records available tell of the first, an individual organization with three musicians--two fiddlers and one artist on the triangle. The first formal parade was held January 1, 1901, after the Council had decided to make it a city function.

Now the colorful parade is miles long and is made up of three units--fancy, comic and string bands. King Momus, god of ridicule, is the leader of the parade. The Police, Firemen and PTC Bands at the beginning of the line start the procession rolling. But the swinging groups all march down Broad Street to the tinkling music of the string bands.

Some years there are as many as fifty string bands, spaced a block apart. In them from fifty to one hundred musicians play guitars, banjos, violins, saxophones, accordions, percussion instruments, and cymbals. Their theme song, _Oh Dem Golden Slippers_, is in keeping with the gold painted rubbers which the gay marchers always wear.

Their fancy costumes “as splendiferous as a parade of peacocks” cost thousands of dollars. In most clubs or units, the captain wears the showiest costume with a flowing satin or velvet cape a block long and requiring sixty or more page boys to support it. One headdress contained 300 plumes while another stood ten feet high and had 700 plumes with lights blinking on and off among them.

Philadelphia and the surrounding country is proud of its parades, and in fair weather more than a million people jam both sides of Broad Street to see Quakertown’s traditional pilgrimage.

_Industrial Bands_

“Wanted! FIRST-CLASS BANDSMAN who has $500 or more to invest in an up-to-date job printing office; the business will invoice at $1,600. Party must be reliable and a first-class printer. Good opportunity for the right party.”

Advertisements like this were common in the early band days. Employers wanted workers who could also play a band instrument or “double in brass.” And such was the popularity of bands that often the job appealed to the worker only because he would be able to play in the town band. At first the bandsmen were not paid, even for their expenses; but later some communities donated money to help them.

In time the industries began to support their bands for they had found these organizations wonderful allies in spreading good will among their employees, communities and customers. Some companies gave band concert parties to their workers and their families. These were welcome events in the days of few social entertainments.

One of the oldest industrial bands, the Altoona Works Band of the Pennsylvania Railroad, was organized in 1853 under the leadership of William Boyden. This group was always noted for its striking appearance. In 1885 twenty-six uniforms were purchased at a cost of $2,200, “the trimmings and buttons of which were gold-plated of the best quality.” The band played at the inauguration of President Harrison and at several of the inaugural celebrations and is still in existence with Albert Sincer of Altoona, Pennsylvania, as leader.

Outstanding among the smaller railroad bands was the Missouri-Kansas and Texas or “Katy” Band of Parsons, Kansas. The company employed a full-time music supervisor and in the 1920’s boasted five bands of white workers, one Mexican band and one Negro band. These popular groups played over the country at such functions as state fairs and in many places where a parade band was needed.

A great impetus had been given to the band movement when Charles G. Conn of Elkhart, Indiana, began turning out popular-priced horns. And incidentally, the band instrument industry began quite by accident. When Charles who had received a lip injury during the Civil War came home, he made an elastic rim on the metal mouthpiece of his own trumpet to protect his lip. Then his friends wanted the rims on theirs, and soon there was so much demand for them that he started making them, using a small shed for a factory. He went on to make the mouthpiece and finally the instrument itself. Thus began the great C. G. Conn Ltd., business of today.