Great bands of America

by Alberta Powell Graham

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.