On
the eve of Mother’s Day it is apt to share the story of a sentimental song celebrating home—a
place identified with moms.
Perhaps the biggest international
hit of the 19th Century made its
public bow on May 8, 1823 in London with the premier of the opera Clari, or the Maid of Milan. That opus
is long forgotten but one aria leapt
to immediate popular acclaim. The librettist
was an American—John Howard Payne. He was
also an actor, poet, and playwright who
had taken up residence in England and enjoyed considerable success there. The aria set to music a poem he had scribbled a year earlier.
Payne’s
partner was Englishman Henry Rowley Bishop, a prolific composer
of opera and light opera who in 1842 became the first musician to be knighted
for his work. Bishop also borrowed from
his own earlier work, a more elaborate art
song which he had published
anonymously as A Sicilian Air.
Due
to its popularity the simple aria dubbed Home, Sweet Home was rushed to publication in piano sheet music and earned an astonishing £2,100 in its first
year—a veritable fortune. The publisher, the producer of the opera, and Bishop all did
very well. But the profligate Payne, who had little or no business sense quickly squandered
his share. “While his money lasted, he
was a prince of bohemians,” noted an
acquaintance.
The
opera quickly jumped the puddle and premiered in Philadelphia
on October 29, 1823 at the fashionable Winter
Tivoli Theatre and was sung by Mrs. Williams. Americans quickly took the song to heart and
were very proud that a countryman
had achieved success at the pinnacle
of British high culture.
Not
long after a broke Payne returned to
the United States and Quixotically took up residence with the Cherokee just as Andrew
Jackson’s Indian Removal policies were coming into place. He found new notoriety for his articles in defense
of the tribe which hypothesized that they were one of the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel. In 1842 John
Tyler, probably in an attempt to shore
up shaky Whig support for his Presidency appointed him to the post of
American Consul to Tunis, an undemanding sinecure he held until his death on April 10, 1852.
The
same year that Payne died in North
Africa, Bishop re-introduced the
song with a simplified arrangement
as a popular parlor piano piece. The sentimental,
family idealizing Victorian Age was
in full swing and the song with Payne’s plaintive
lyrics was perfect for family sings
after Sunday dinner.
Mid pleasures
and palaces though we may roam
Be it ever so
humble, there's no place like home
A charm from the
skies seems to hallow us there
Which seek thro’
the world, is ne’er met elsewhere
Home! Home!
Sweet, sweet
home!
There’s no place
like home
There’s no place
like home!
An exile from
home splendor dazzles in vain
Oh give me my
lowly thatched cottage again
The birds
singing gaily that came at my call
And gave me the
peace of mind dearer than all
Home, home,
sweet, sweet home
There’s no place
like home, there’s no place like home!
The
sheet music flew off of store shelves on both sides of the Atlantic. It was a bigger hit than the first exposure,
much like Queen’s Bohemian
Rhapsody scored higher on the charts in 1992 when it was used in Wayne’s
World than on its first release
in 1976.
Home, Sweet Home was taken all over the far flung British Empire where it was sung by homesick colonial officials, soldiers,
missionaries, merchants and their families
like another sentimental ballad, Robert
Burns’ Auld Lang Syne was
spread.
During
the Civil War in America it became
both a favorite campfire ballad and
a song of the families left behind
by the troops. The power of the song was shown when desertions
sky rocketed as the tune swept camps
leading some Yankee commanders to ban it from their bivouacs.
Home, Sweet Home had an impact on popular culture in many ways.
Notable were the ubiquitous
sewing samplers that were made and hung homes humble and grand. The refrain
“There’s no place like hope” entered the American vocabulary and was soon being
referenced in literature, most famously in L.
Frank Baum’s The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
published in 1900.
In
1909 in the early Edison Studio western The House of Cards when a saloon brawl breaks out a title card was flashed reading “Play
Home, Sweet Home!” followed by a shot
of a fiddler and the melee
breaking up as men stream out of the tavern,
some with tears in their eyes.
That established a tradition
of playing the song at last call
that persisted in many joints
through the Depression years sort of
like Semisonic’s Closing Time
is now played by weary bartenders
trying to clear the place out.
Home, Sweet Home had a good run—more than a century of popularity during which time just about everyone was as familiar with the lyrics as with Happy
Birthday. But times and tastes change. It is far too sweet and sentimental to the point of maudlin for a modern culture
that favors cool ironic detachment
and suspects that every home is just
nest of dysfunction and angst.
Folks
don’t sing Home, Sweet Home any more.
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