The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1883-06-17
The Author Of Sweet Home. ;


his maturity. Then he was d mana
ger, a writer and adapteF of plays,
a general utility" man in translat-
ing and arranging. He lost money
as a manager, and was imprisoned
in London. He opened his prison
door with a successful translation,
played Richard the Third" for a
few nights, and left the stage. Then
he sent some plays in manuscript,
to Charles Kemble, and among them
was "Clari," and if Kemble would
give him $50 he would have Bishop
arrange the play with music for the
stage. Kemble sent the money /;
Bishop arranged the music; Ellen
Trees sister sang it. One song in it
melted the heart of London and of
the world, and the plalntiye melody
IS everywhere familiar and every
where its tender pathos invests with
afectionate regard the name of
John Howard Payne.
1t was in Italy that he heard the
melody sung by peasant girl carry
ing flowers and vegetables. The
wandering Goldsmith might have
heard it, and trilled it at twilight
from his flute; for it is the very pen
sive motive of the Deserted Vii
lage." 70 the lettering play wright
the melody suggested the words
which he has associated with it,
and jotting down the notes of the
air, he sent both words and music
to Bishop, who duly arranged them,
and after the immediate and great
success of the song, it was pub
lished Gas sung by Miss Tree" SIS
ter of Ellen Tree-"composed and
partly founded upon a Sicilian air
by Henry r. Bishop" But Payne's
name is not even mentioned.
"Clari, the Maid Of Milan," was the
rage. For many years it was often
sung, and its performance is pleas
ant Renaissance of theatre-goers
of thirty and forty years ago.
Payne continued to write tragedies
and comedies, operas and farces, and
in 1882 he returned to America. A
complimentary benefit was given to
him at the Park Theatre, which
produced seven thousand dollars.
F'And Mr.. JONES' says a recent re-
port,-"whoever Mr.. Jones was
sang CLONE, Sweet Home" Alas!
here again is the untoWard fate of
the Acknowledgement Mr.. Jones
wasp Why sir, Mr.. Jones was
long the dulcet tenor of the old
Park, and in the English version Of
MaSaa1ieZlo his singing of the aria,
Morning its sweets is fiirging,"
was the delight Of the lovely bellies
of long ago, whose grandchildren
are the matronS of to-day.
For ten years Payne led the same
Bedouin life, full of literary and hu
name and romantic projects, but he
never again wrote, or did anything
memorable. In 1S43 he was ap-
pointed consul at Tunis, where in
1852, ian exile from home," he died.
There is an inevitable melancholy
in the impression Of such life, yet
it is not clear that Payne was es-
pecially unhappy. But he was al
ways a rover, and was never mar
ried, and often knew the pinch of
poverty. After thirty years, Mr..
Corcoran, of Washington, who per-
sonally knew Fhim, obtained per-
mission to remove his remains, and
IN June they will be laid finally in
Oak Hill Cemetery, near Washing
ton,
Except for the song the name of
Payne would be preserved only in BIZ
ographical dictionaries and in
some perishing traditions Of the the
atre. But his song is that one
touch of nature which makes the
world kin. 1t is the frailest thread
of which fame was ever spun. For
the poetry is but a rude expression
of a common sentiment, and it
would hardly have aroused atten-
ton except for the pathetic melody
to which it was adapted. That
touches every nearer, as it touched
Payne when he heard it sung by The
Italian girl. He vindicated his
claim to the name of poet by his
perfect Interpretation Of the senti-
ment of the music. 1t was in the
year that he died that New York
heard Jenny Lind sing his song.
There was simple, honest, gener-
Gus peasant air in her aspect, and
when her marvellous voice broke
into ringing shower of limpid
thrills in
''The bird I, sir iDg gsyly that come al
my CALL"
it was as if all the birds of spring
warbled together, or a choir OF
larks sang at heavens gate.
There are hundred monuments
of distinguished men in Washing
ton who were very conspicuous, ant
some of whom performed great and
memorable services. But no mon
ument there will be visited by q
greater throng of pilgrims, and ne
memory will appeal more tenderIy
to all of them, than those of the
wide wandering actor who lived
and died alone, and of whom moth
ing is remembered but that he wrote
! one song.-HGTpeT'S Magazine.