Early Songs and Hymns
‘N 1845 Mr. George F. Root began to give instruction in music at the Institution; already he was well known as the composer of many sweet hymns and various secular pieces that were exceedingly popular. He used to play many of his melodies for me; and frequently asked me to write words for them. One day in 1851 he played an air that was wonderfully sweet and touching; and I exclaimed.
“Oh, Mr. Root, why don’t you publish that?” “I have no words for it,” he replied, “and cannot purchase any.” I suggested that he let me try to write something; he assented; and I composed a song beginning as follows:
“O come to the greenwood, where nature is
smiling,
Come to the greenwood, so lovely and gay,
There will soft music thy spirit beguiling
Tenderly carol thy sadness away.”
Our first joint composition was a song, entitled “Fare Thee Well, Kitty Dear,” which described the grief of a colored man on the death of his beloved; and the chorus runs like this, “Fare thee well, Kitty dear, Thou art sleeping in thy grave so low, Nevermore, Kitty dear, Wilt thou listen to my old banjo.”
During the next three years we composed fifty or sixty songs, some of the titles of which are “Bird of the North,” “Hazel Dell,” “They Have Sold Me Down the River,” “O How Glad to Get Home,” “Rosalie the Prairie Flower” and “There’s Music in the Air.”
The success of the concerts given by William B. Bradbury at the Broadway Tabernacle inspired Mr. Root to attempt.’omething in the same manner; and accordingly in 1835 we wrote “The Flower Queen,” a cantata, the story of which is as follows: an old man becoming tired of the world, decides to become a hermit; but, as he is about to retire to his lonely hut, he hears a chorus singing, “Who shall be queen of the flowers?” His interest is at once aroused; and on the following day he is asked to act as judge in a contest where each flower urges her claims to be queen of all the others. At length the hermit chooses the rose for her loveliness; and in turn she exhorts him to return to the world and to his duty.
I believe that “The Flower Queen” was the first American cantata; and it was immediately in great demand. It was followed by the “Pilgrim Fathers,” for which Dr. Lowell Mason assisted in composing the music.
On March 2, 1858, I left the New York Institution for the Blind; and my parting from those familiar surroundings was indeed sad; for I had been there nearly twenty-three years, eight as a pupil, and fifteen as a teacher. Prior to this I had written no hymns, except possibly one or two short religious poems that may have been set to music; but I had been engaged in writing verses and short prose sketches for several papers. The best of my work had been collected into three books, although the great bulk of personal and miscellaneous pieces were never gathered together; and I am indeed glad that they were not. The third book of poems was compiled a few months after I left the Institution, under the title of “A Wreath of Columbia’s Flowers”; and it suffered more than the others from the need of careful pruning and revision.
In 1858 I was married to Mr. Alexander Van Alstyne whom I had known as pupil and teacher in the Institution for almost fifteen years. By nature he was endowed with superior musical ability; and, before he graduated from our school, he was said to be one of the most accomplished students that we ever had there. He continued his education in Union College, where in addition to music he studied classics and theology; and then he taught at Albion, New York, until 1855 when he returned to teach in our school, which he continued to do, with rare skill and sympathy with his pupils for three years.
After our marriage he insisted that my literary name should remain as it had become known to the public in general through my poems. Our tastes were congenial and he composed the music to several of my hymns besides constantly aiding me with kind criticism and advice. At different times he was organist in two of the New York churches; and also taught private classes in both vocal and instrumental music. He was a firm, trustful Christian and a man whose kindly deeds and cheering words will not be forgotten by his many friends. We were happy together many years. His death occurred on July 1 8, 1902.
As early as 1860 the name of William B. Bradbury was familiar to all lovers of music. To the Christian world he was known principally as the author of a large collection of sweet melodies, many of which have found their way into the best collection of hymns. Prior to 1864 I had never met this gifted composer; but I had often fancied that our tastes might be congenial; and; on this account, I was somewhat anxious to make his acquaintance. The opportunity to do so soon came through the Rev. Peter Stryker, the minister of the Dutch Reformed Church in Twenty-third Street, which I frequently attended. In December, 1863, Mr. Stryker asked me to write a short poem that could be used as a hymn in the closing services of the year. Early in January he came to me and said,
“Why don’t you see Mr. Bradbury? He has told me more than once that he was looking for someone who could write hymns. I think you are the person for whom he has been looking and I will give you a letter of introduction.”
In consequence of this arrangement, on February 2, 1864, I presented myself at the office of William B.
Bradbury, 425 Broome Street. To my surprise Mr. Bradbury said,
“Fanny, I thank God that we have at last met; for I think you can write hymns; and I have wished for a long time to have a talk with you.” At the end of a brief interview I promised to bring him something before the week drew to a close; and three days later I returned with some verses that were soon set to music and published as my first hymn. There were four stanzas; and three of them I will quote here:
“We are going, we are going
To a home beyond the skies,
Where the fields are robed in beauty,
And the sunlight never dies;
“Where the fount of joy is flowing
In the valley green and fair.
We shall dwell in love together;
There shall be no parting there.
“We are going, we are going,
And the music we have heard,
Like the echo of the woodland,
Or the carol of a bird.”
The following week Mr. Bradbury sent for me in great haste; and said that he wanted a patriotic song at once. As a title he chose “A Sound Among the Mulberry Trees”; but I timidly suggested that “Forest Trees” would be more euphonious, to which idea he at once assented. The melody that he had composed was somewhat difficult; but, having heard it two or three times, I was able to count the measure, and the words were then easily adapted. On the following morning I carried the song to the office of Mr. Bradbury, but he was not there; and so his bookkeeper, who was also a musical man, played it on the piano, exclaiming, “How in the world did you manage to write that hymn? Nobody ever supposed that you, or any other mortal, could adapt words to that melody.”
At this moment Mr. Bradbury entered the office; and after looking over the hymn very carefully, turned to me and exclaimed,
“Fanny, I am surprised beyond measure; and, now, let me say that as long as I have a publishing house, you will always have work.” The future verified his promise, for I have been with Mr. Bradbury and his successors, the Biglow and Main Company, more than forty years.