The Boys Band of Cromwell, Indiana

 

Ever since the camera was invented
the most common decision photographers make
is where to pose their subjects.
For a sizeable group like this boys' brass band
a typical outdoor site might be on a bandstand; in a field;
in front of a building; or on a porch stoop.
Selecting a novel setting can be just as important for a photographer
as finding the best light or adjusting the lens.

Though today we might think it an unimaginative choice,
assembling everyone to take their picture
in front of an automobile
was once a new original concept.

 

 

 

 

It certainly made a more interesting photograph to place this small band, a group of 15 young boys, ages 7 to 14,  beside an early delivery vehicle. They are a true brass band with only cornets, baritones, valve trombones, and tubas, along with two drummers. It must have been an important occasion as their mothers have dressed them in their best suits with ties, starched collars, knee pants, and an assortment of flat caps and porkpie hats.

The postcard was mailed from Cromwell, Indiana on 19 September 1912 to Mrs. Sam Judy of Syracuse, Indiana, about 5 miles west of Cromwell as a crow flies. The card has an annotation identifying them as the Cromwell High School Band, but this is surely mistaken as none of the boys looks old enough for a secondary level school.

 

 

Dear Ant & family       ( X Ralph Mock)
We cannot come down
Sat as we are going to
have camp. W. Kneppers &
W. W. Kneppers & E. Stoner &
wife E Jones & wife &
Mrs M Iden and C. A.
Hougling are coming.
                            Ethel Iden.

According to the 1910 census for Sparta township, Noble county, Indiana, Ethel A. Iden was then age 28 and married to Charles E. Iden, a farmer. They had a son Oris C. Iden who in 1912 would be six years old and might be one of the younger boys, though I think they are older. As I interpret the X on the back, it marks the position on the front of Ralph Mock, the tallest boy standing 3rd from right with a cornet. Ralph lived 7 farmhouses down on the same census page as the Iden family and was the son of Fanny E. Mock, a widow. She was the daughter of William and Laura Knepper with whom she, Ralph, and her daughter Fay resided. Ethel's message was written in pencil, but the annotations were made in ink, so I suspect she or Mrs. Judy added them many years later.

To place them into a geography, Cromwell and Sparta are small farming towns about three miles apart in Noble county in northeastern Indiana. The largest city in the county is Ligonier which in 1912 had a weekly newspaper, the Ligonier Leader, that served most of the communities in the county. Every Thursday the paper published eight pages, each divided into 9 dense columns of tiny typeface, covering not just the news of the nation and world, but reports from every local town and hamlet in Noble county. Every social gathering, family visitor, illness, accident, crop harvest, business deal, and fish count found a place in this busy social network hub.

 

Ligonier IN Leader
18 April 1912

In April 1912 it was reported that in Cromwell, "Our juvenile brass band is learning fast under the direction of Prof. Hire of Syracuse."  That's a good match for the boys' band pictured on this postcard, though it's odd that Pro. Hire is not standing with his young musicians, but perhaps that's because he was holding the camera. From April to September the boys should have enjoyed a full summer of practice, learning a repertoire suitable for a public concert. 

 

In any case Prof. Hire or the photographer placed the Cromwell Juvenile Brass Band next to a motorized vehicle which I suspect was an unfamiliar machine for these farm boys. Henry Ford introduced his first Model T automobile just four years earlier in September 1908, but the first Ford truck, the Model TT, would not come off the assembly line until 1918. For rural communities in 1912 automobiles were a rare sight as they still depended on horse-drawn transport. Steam engines may have been the dominant power for industry and railways, but the great age of gasoline/petrol motors had begun. 

While it's possible that this vehicle was made by Ford or one of the other early automobile manufacturers, it is not a typical family car for 1912. I think it's a custom coachwork design for a tradesman as the chassis has a covered wagon box fitted with large windows on the side. 

 

Windows with beveled glass.

 

I can't think of any trade that would need a vehicle with fancy window glass like this, except for one—an undertaker. I think this vehicle is a hearse and that the windows on both sides and on the side door were designed to display full view of a casket as it was conveyed to a cemetery for burial.

 

If I'm correct, this may explain why the boys look so somber and even a bit dismayed.

 

 

1910 Cunningham Motor Hearse built in Rochester, New York
for Fort Worth, Texas undertaker.
Source: the Internet

In 1912 a motorized hearse was a novel idea for a trade that for centuries used a horse-drawn hearse. This image of a 1910 Cunningham motor hearse shows a similar box-shaped vehicle with large side windows covered in drapery. The curved side piece and lantern on the driver's cab is also a feature on horse-drawn hearses too.

 

 

1913 Peerless Hearse, Cleveland, Ohio
Source: the Internet

 The 1913 Peerless hearse follows the same design with very ornate lanterns and window dressings.

 

1912 Crane & Breed Motor Hearse, Cincinnati, Ohio
Source: the Internet

 

The early automobile journals are filled with detailed descriptions of all sorts of vehicles. In 1912 one magazine reported on the new Crane & Breed motor hearse from Cincinnati which could be fitted with either a 35 or 45 hp motor. Considering that a hearse was never required to drive fast, or far, or even often, the level of engine trivia in the description is amusing to read. 

Fort Wayne IN Journal-Gazette
14 January 1911

Unfortunately I found no reference to a "motor hearse" in the Ligonier Leader, but 30 miles south in Fort Wayne there was a 1911 report of a motor hearse. It was "the first of its kind in this section," and  carried a casket a distance of 25 miles in two hours and forty-five minutes.

 

 

Unmarked Hearse circa 1915
Source: the Internet

This last image of a motor hearse dates from 1915 and has the same long box construction with glass windows behind the driver's bench. The vehicle pictured with the Cromwell Boy's Band doesn't have the side lanterns and is not as ornate as these city hearses, but it does fits with the style, and I can't believe there was another business in Noble county at that time that would need a motorized wagon with bevel glass side windows.

As we can see, the boys are all well dressed and some even have a flower pinned to their jacket lapel. They are clearly made up for a special event and their solemn expressions could be a reflection of some kind of serious moment. But if a juvenile brass band actually performed at a funeral ceremony, I expect that would be noteworthy enough to get a mention in the  county's newspaper. 

 

Perhaps there may be another explanation.

 

 

 

Ligonier IN Leader
19 September 1912

By a curious coincidence on Thursday 19 September 1912, the same day Ethel Iden posted her postcard of the band, the Ligonier Leader published a very brief report from their Cromwell correspondent. "Our band of boosters started out Monday morning in fifteen automobiles, with the juvenile band, our sweet singers and a number of citizens with Rev. Gaff in charge of the megaphone. They visited Kimmell, Wawaka, Albion, Ligonier, Millersburg, Syracuse, North Webster and other towns."

 

In this era many small towns in America indulged in this kind of self-promotion using the novelty of the modern automobile to take a tour of their region. I've written two stories about a town in Kansas that did this and took a band along: On The Road in White City, Kansas, and Street Music in White City, Kansas. It seems very likely that the Cromwell Juevenile Band was taken along and had their photo taken that Monday. Three days later, Ethel was in Cromwell, saw the photo postcard at the drug store, and bought it to send her message to Mrs. Judy.  

It still doesn't explain the motor hearse. But my hunch is that fifteen automobiles with 15 kids and assorted adults would be pretty crowded unless there was a vehicle to carry the band's instruments. If the local undertaker wasn't busy that day and could be persuaded that showing off his latest piece of equipment was good advertisement for his business, a motor hearse would be the perfect way to carefully transport band instruments around the county. That's what I think happened that day.

And if you were ten years old
you would likely be thinking of this poem
as your photo was being taken.

 

 

The Hearse Song from
The American Songbag
by Carl Sandburg
published in 1927
Source: The Internet Archive

 

As I was searching for clues about hearses this week, I couldn't help but remember this old jingle which I learned when I was about eight or ten. The Hearse Song was popularized in World War One, but has roots that go way back to earlier centuries. It was collected by the great American Poet, Carl Sandburg, who was also an accomplished folk singer too. His home in Flat Rock, North Carolina, about 30 mile from where I live, is now a National Historic Site. 

 

There are a number of other contemporary versions of this jingle by performers who have altered the lyrics and turned it into a kind of macabre Goth anthem, which I think misses the point. Carl Sandburg recorded his version of the The Hearse Song when he was eighty, accompanying himself on guitar. It's the one I particularly like, so let's listen to the master's voice. He switches the two lyrics and sings the B verse first.

 

 

 

Did you ever think as the hearse rolls by
That some of these days you must surely die?
They'll take you away in a big black hack,
They'll take you away but won't bring you back.

 

The men with shovels stand all around.
They shovel you into that cold, wet ground.
They shovel in dirt and they throw in rocks.
They don't give a dam if they break the box.

And your eyes drop out and your teeth fall in
And the worms crawl over your mouth and chin;
And the worms crawl out and the worms crawl in
And your limbs drop off of you limb by limb. 

 

The old Grey Hearse goes rolling by,
You don't know whether to laugh or cry;
For you know some day it'll get you too,
And the hearse's next load may consist of -- you.

They'll take you out and they'll lower you down,
While men with shovels stand all a-round;
They'll throw in dirt and they'll throw in rocks,
And they won't give a dam-m-m if they break the box.

The worms crawl in and the worms crawl out,
They crawl all over your chin and mouth,
They invite their friends and their friends' friends too,
And you look like hell when they're -- through -- with you.

 

 Source: Representative Poetry Online

 

 

 

 

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday
where everyone loves to go on a Saturday drive.