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Poor Stephen Foster ... That is the way so many think of him when hearing his name or music. For so long, journalists, writing for only the sensationalism, used that tone in their writings. They wrote that his life was one long drinking spree, that his family deserted him, and that he died drunk and in poverty. That is only partially true. From a book written by the daughter of Morrison Foster, Stephen's brother, she included not only true stories of the family, but excerpts from letters written by the Foster children to their parents, and from the parents to the children. From these we can learn of the true Stephen Foster. True, Stephen did die in poverty, but was not drunk at the time of his death. His family never deserted him - their concern was always for their beloved brother, son and husband. When alcohol finally got the stong hold on him, Stephen left his family and went to New York, probably the worst place he could have gone, since he had few friends there, and home was always Stephen's sanctuary. He left the family to save them from the suffering that he was going through. To the end of his life Stephen Foster was a thoughtful, kind gentleman.
When Stephen Collins Foster was born, July 4, 1826, the families of his father, William Barclay Foster, and his mother, Eliza Clayland Tomlinson Foster, had been in America for over 100 years. His grandfather, James Foster, served in the Revolutionary War. James was buried at Poland, Ohio in the plot of the Struthers family. James' daughter, Mary, had married John Struthers, and James spent the later years of his life with his son-in-law and daughter.
The land upon which Stephen's father built the White Cottage, where Stephen was born, was purchased by his father in 1814 from Alexander Hill, and the 121 acre tract was originally known as "Good Liquor." It had been entered at the Patent Office in 1769 by GEORGE Croghan. When Stephen was born, the area was known as Lawrenceville, now a part of Pittsburgh.
In 1934, the legend is told that Stephen's birthplace was at 3414 Penn Avenue and Henry Ford, accepting this as a fact, purchased the cottage at that address and moved it, piece by piece, to Dearborn, Mich. However, it was the wrong house. Stephen was born in the house his father built at 3600 Penn Avenue. In 1865, the White Cottage, as it was called, was torn down and replaced with a brick dwelling, keeping only a portion of the cottage intact.
Stephen's father lost the land and the White Cottage about 1826, due to financial problems, and although Stephen could not actually remember living there, the regret of his parents, brothers and sisters on having to leave was deeply impressed upon him.
Stephen was baptized on April 22, 1827 in the Trinity Episcopal Church. As a youngster, he was quite delicate - 2 cases of whooping cough before he was seven, another attack at age 10. A younger brother died in infancy, leaving Stephen the youngest of 11 children. The fact that he was the youngest, his older brothers and sisters watched over him and held concern for him his entire life. That and the fact that he was said to have been his mother's favorite may have accounted for his lack of stability and stamina after the deaths of his mother, father and several brothers.
Stephen's schooling was not even consistent, since his parents did not insist upon him attending school with any regularity. In 1839, they sent him to the Towanda Academy, near where his brother William was working, but by 1840, he was no longer enrolled in that school, but was enrolled in the Academy of Athens. It was during this period that he wrote "The Tioga Waltz." Although he would not "stick to school," in his father's words, his parents were quite satisfied with his devotion to music. It is well that they did not send him to an eastern music school, since the music being taught there at that time was derived from the English and German composers, and we may never have been privileged to hear the songs of Stephen Foster as we know them.
After a visit home from the Athens Academy in 1841, Stephen could not abide the thought of returning there, so was enrolled at Jefferson College at Canonsburg. Little did his mother know when she waved good-bye to him, that he would return home in just 5 days. A tutor was then hired and he was taught at home, learning both French and German.
Sometime during 1843, Stephen composed his first published song, "Open Thy Lattice, Love". The words were taken from a poem by George Pope Morris.
Now, he began writing "plantation melodies". He was working on the wharf as a clerk, and here he would hear all day long the cheerful colored roustabouts as they unloaded the bales of cotton, singing their mournful songs. He received no money for so many of his early songs, since he was so big hearted and gave them to friends who were members of singing groups who would perform at every chance they could get. One such piece was "Lou'siana Bell", another "Old Uncle Ned". And at the time he wrote that song, with the words "his fingers were long like de cane in de canebrake", he had never been south of the mouth of the Ohio, nor had he ever seen a canebrake.
Perhaps much of Stephen's information of life in the South was gleaned from letters received from his brother, Morrison, a riverman. Morrison never failed to mention the names of all the places he stopped along the river or the names of all the riverboats on which he traveled, including the names of ferryboats. And from Olivia, or Lieve, who was the bound girl, and gave him his impression of Negro singing. He went many times to church with "Lieve" where he was so fond of listening to their singing and boisterous devotions.
When Stephen left home in 1846 or 47, he went to Cincinnati, Ohio, where he was hired as a clerk on the waterfront. He roomed near the river and heard all day long, the steamboat whistles, which rather than being irritating to him, became like music to his ears. Here he wrote many more songs, and yet still did not realize just how good they were. He thought so little of his songs that when he wrote "Nellie Was a Lady" he told his brother, Morrison to sell it to a Gil Smith and take $10, $5 or even $1, and donate the money to some charitable organization.
By 1850 he decided to give up his bookkeeping and devote his time to writing music. And now, his courtship of Miss Jane McDowell began in earnest. Stephen and Jane were married July 22, 1850 at the Trinity Episcopal Church. Between Oct. 1849 and his wedding day, Stephen had published 15 songs, among them "Nellie Bly", "Camptown Races", "Angelina Baker", "Way Down in Cairo", but "Nelli Bly" and "Camptown Races" were to be the most famous. The young couple returned from their honeymoon in September 1850 to live with the Fosters on East Common. Between his wedding day and the first part of 1851, Stephen published 7 more songs. In the early part of 1851 Stephen's father suffered a stroke and was bedridden for the rest of his life, and now Stephen was needed to help in the family business, but he did manage to compose 12 to 14 more songs, among them "Ring de Banjo" and "Laura Lee".
In 1853, Stephen and Jane began to have marital problems, and several times, Jane packed up and with the baby, Marion, who was born April 18, 1851, left Stephen, however, Jane was always back at Stephen's side when he most needed her. His song "Jeanie With The Light Brown Hair", written for her, symbolizes most the love he had for her. Christmas of 1854, all the Foster children except brother William were at home, and although their father was so ill and his death expected, it was Eliza, their mother, who was suddenly taken ill and died January 18, 1855, 3 days short of her 67th birthday. July 27, 1855, their father died and was buried beside Eliza and a daughter, Charlotte, on the green hillside near the little town William had mapped out more than 40 years earlier. In March of 1856, Stephen's brother, Dunning, died in Cincinnati and was brought home for burial, and in 1860, brother William was buried in the same plot. One by one the Fosters were coming home to Lawrenceville. And now, Stephen was head of the household. In the latter part of 1860, he took his wife and daughter and moved to New York, believing that there he could fill his time composing and forgetting the "Devouring Enemy", the alcohol that he had become so addicted to following the deaths of so many in his family and the money worries that seemed to follow him. Stephen was not able to cope with poverty and snap out of the doldrums as his parents and brothers had had to do so many times. Now Jane needed all the strength and stamina she had acquired, even though her early training had prepared her for none of the tragedies she was to face. Jane finally left with baby Marion and returned to Pittsburgh. The concern of the family now was Stephen's dependence on alcohol. Not only had he been his mother's darling, he was their adored younger brother and they continued to have a feeling of personal responsibility for his welfare.
At one time, Morrison sent Stephen some decent clothing, after seeing the rags he was wearing. Stephen wrote a note of thanks, then sold the clothes to buy forgetfulness for another day or two.
The story of Stephen Foster's last days is a sad one, but not sordid. On Saturday evening, January 9, 1864, Stephen went early to his room in the New England Hotel in New York, sick and weak from an attack of his old fever, stemming from an attack of malaria he had contracted in 1849. The hotel was referred to in a number of stories as a cheap lodging house, but is was not a disreputable or dirty one. The following morning he arose to get a drink of water and fainting from weakness, fell against the wash bowl, cutting a terrible gash in his face and neck. The maid found him lying in a pool of blood. A friend was called who took him to Bellevue Hospital. His condition was not at first thought to be too serious, but on Monday, January 11, George Cooper sent a message to Henry, telling him of his brother's illness. Morrison and Jane were also notified. On Tuesday, Stephen seemed improved and was propped up in bed and had taken some soup, and was quite cheerful, but while the nurse was dressing the wounds, he fainted without saying a word and never regained consciousness again. Stephen Foster died at 2:30 p.m., Wednesday, January 13, 1864. The clothing he had worn to the hospital was given to Morrison, Jane and Henry - the body had already been taken to the morgue by the time of their arrival. In a pocket was found Stephen's little purse which contained 3 copper pennies and 35 cents in script. Also a little scrap of paper upon which he had written the words "Dear Friends and Gentle Hearts". Stephen's remains were placed in an iron casket, and it was arranged that Jane, Henry and Morrison would accompany the body Saturday night on the train home. However, the three missed the train, and it was well that they did since the train they were to be on wrecked four miles east of Tyrone, Pa. Several of the cars plunged into the Juniata River and 21 people were injured. The baggage car and a second express car containing the mail and Stephens casket were piled up together but the casket was not harmed in any way. Stephen remains did not reach Pittsburgh until the following Wednesday. The Adams Express would accept no pay for transporting his body, nor did they charge any of the others in the funeral party.
Stephen was buried Thursday morning, January 21, 1864, from the church in which he had been baptized and married. His brother, Morrison wrote "His body lies beside his Mother and Father he loved so much and near the spot where he was born. His monument is not grand, but it is sufficient. His works will perpetuate his fame and story longer than the chiseled or moulded art of man's hands could do it."
The times he left his family, his only sanctuary, Stephen Foster did so only to save them from the suffering he was going through. To the end of his life, Stephen Collins Foster was a thoughtful, kind gentleman.
(According to records in the Stephen Foster Museum, in Pittsburgh, Stephen went to New York in July, 1853. There he wrote "Jeanie With The Light Brown Hair", published by Firth, Pond & Co., of New York City. This disproves the local legend the song was written during a visit to New Brighton.)