The United States Marine Band, established in 1798 and named the "President's Own" by Thomas Jefferson, has provided a regal air to the presidency and the White House for two hundred years.
John Tyler's administration established the tradition of playing "Hail to the Chief" as a ceremonial introduction announcing the arrival of the president. First Lady Julia Tyler reportedly instructed the United States Marine Band to play the song whenever her husband made an official appearance.
John Philip Sousa (bottom left) directing the United States Marine Band at the White House in 1930 for President Herbert Hoover (on bottom step), British ambassador Sir Ronald Lindsay, and officials of the Gridiron Club.
Courtesy of United States Marine Band
John Philip Sousa: The Leader of the Band
by Debra Pawlak
American history is rich with extraordinary men and women. Some performed heroic deeds while some created gifts for the soul. John Philip Sousa spent a lifetime composing music that reflected his passion for America. He embraced his country penning high-stepping marches that, to this day, bring us together and strengthen our resolve during troubled times. Well-respected and admired, not only at home, but also around the world, he musically defined the spirit of America. His classic marches, with their energy and style, carried us through two world wars and still awaken our sense of patriotism when we need it most. Appropriately enough, John Philip Sousa was born in Washington, D.C. on November 6, 1854, the third of ten children. As fate would have it his father, Antonio, played trombone in the U.S. Marine Band and introduced his son to music. By the time he was six, the young Sousa was enrolled in John Esputa Jr.'s conservatory where his studies included voice, violin, piano, and flute, as well as music theory.
While Sousa studied music, Americans fought Americans in the Civil War. The sight of gravely wounded soldiers mixed with the sound of stirring military bands indelibly touched his soul. Traveling to Gettysburg with the Marine Band, he witnessed Lincoln's address. From the depths of one of our nation's darkest hours emerged the man who expressed his pride in America with music, but things might have turned out differently if Antonio Sousa hadn't been paying attention.
At thirteen, Sousa made a fateful decision. He would run away with the circus and eventually become their bandleader. Luckily, Antonio was one step ahead of his high-spirited son. On the morning of his scheduled departure, instead of the circus, Sousa found himself enlisted in the U.S. Marines thanks to his fast-thinking father. His job? To apprentice in the Marine Corps band where his father could keep an eye on him.
Consumed by music, Sousa played in the marine band by day and worked professional engagements by night. In between, he composed. His first published work, Moonlight on the Potomac Waltzes (1872), was written for a friend trying to impress a girl. The money was insignificant, but having his work made public thrilled him. At the age of twenty, Sousa was honorably discharged from the service and the Marine Corps band. His days, however, were still filled with music. An accomplished violinist, Sousa taught privately by day and played in the orchestra at Ford's Theater by night.
Inevitably, Sousa met a girl-Emma M. Whitfield Swallow. He wanted to marry her, but Emma's stepfather objected-a poor musician could never support a wife and a family. Determined to prove him wrong, Sousa accepted a conducting job in Chicago. He promised to return in two years, successful and self-sufficient, to make Emma his wife. True to his word, Sousa prospered with his music and returned to Washington in 1877 where Emma's stepfather gave his blessing to the young couple. Emma's mother, however, let Sousa know that her daughter was also seeing an ex-Confederate Army officer. Understandably upset, Sousa left for Philadelphia and Emma married her soldier.
For the next two years, Sousa thrived on music working as an arranger, conductor, and composer establishing his professional brilliance. Then in 1879, he met and wasted little time in marrying Jane van Middlesworth Bellis. The following year, the newlyweds returned to Washington where Sousa enlisted in the Marines to become the first American born leader of the U.S. Marine Band.
He had his work cut out for him personally recruiting band members he knew and trusted. The band's lackluster music was below his standards so he personally wrote six lively new marches. Strict rehearsals weeded out the less serious musicians. Single-handedly, Sousa turned his soldiers into sharp looking, professional sounding musicians. Making their debut at a White House reception on January 1, 1881, the refurbished U.S. Marine Band stepped into a new era.
For the next twelve years under Sousa's leadership, their popularity grew. Sousa continued writing marches and the band, much to the delight of their audiences, continued playing them. But it was The Washington Post (1889) that Sousa wrote for the newspaper of that same name that swept the nation. In 1889, the Marine Band debuted the new march while playing outside the Smithsonians. It was a perfect match for the new dance, the two-step, and The Washington Post became not only a bona fide hit in America, but also an international phenomenon. Nicknamed the 'March King' by a British journalist, Sousa emerged into a world-renowned celebrity.
Anxious to tour with his band, Sousa repeatedly asked his superiors for permission to leave Washington for more than just one day at a time. At first, they refused so Sousa turned to a new-fangled recording machine in an effort to reach the public. In 1890, the Marine Band's popularity soared when the Columbia Phonograph Company reproduced their music on cylinders. Ironically, Sousa felt his presence unnecessary at the monotonous recording sessions so most were made without him.
Sousa never gave up his dream to take the band on tour, but it wasn't until he spoke with President Benjamin Harrison's wife that he got what he wanted. At Mrs. Harrison's urging, the president personally authorized the U.S. Marine Band's first concert tour in 1891. It was so successful that a second one followed after which Sousa was once again officially discharged. He told the Boston Post: "…In official life a man has to stand right up to the job. He makes his mark or he fails…"
As a civilian, Sousa formed what would eventually become an American Institution, the Sousa Band. They debuted on September 26, 1892 at Stillman Music Hall in New Jersey-the first performance of thousands spanning almost four decades. Realizing his dream of taking music to the people, the Sousa Band traveled the country-Chicago. New York. St. Louis. Cleveland. Atlanta. All the while, Sousa continued writing his celebrated marches including his most famous, Stars and Strips Forever (1896) just in time for the Spanish-American War.
Sousa composed music anywhere-the only thing that distracted him was a melody. He wrote his music on paper, usually in ink, seldom crossing anything out. When he finished, he turned the last page sideways, signed his name, the date and indicated the place where he wrote it. He could complete the entire score for one of his famous marches in two days. Only, after he wrote it on paper, would he then play it himself or have someone else play it for him on the piano.
Always sensitive to his audience, Sousa knew how to please. When receiving a chilly reception in the South, he played Dixie keeping it in his repertoire and touching even the staunchest Confederates. Shortly after President William McKinley died, the Sousa Band performed in Columbus, Ohio. Their local paper reported: "…the world's greatest bandmaster raised his baton. Instantly a profound hush fell upon the audience, for something not on the program was coming…Then softly in realms celestial, there stole upon the ear…"Nearer My God to Thee". No words can picture the effect…If Sousa had never done anything else to make him the idol of the public, that simple, soulful, unheralded tribute to the fallen chieftain should lift him to the pinnacle. It was a song with words, but words were never so eloquent as the heavenly music of that incomparable band."
Eager to take his music abroad, he planned a European tour, but when the Spanish-American War broke out, they were forced to cancel. Sousa wanted to re-enlist, but he fell ill with typhoid fever and then pneumonia. Deathly sick for three months, the war ended without him. Finally, in 1900, Sousa introduced his band to Europe. They played in France at the Paris Exposition celebrating both French and American independence where his march Hail to the Spirit of Liberty (1900) was heard for the first time. Over the next four months, the band went on to Germany, England, Belgium, and Holland playing 175 concerts in 34 cities. Proudly representing the United States, Sousa so impressed the Europeans with American music that his band toured Europe two more times before embarking on a world tour in 1910. This time, his stops included South Africa, Australia, New Zealand and the Fiji Islands.
He also enmeshed himself in a fight for composer's rights. In the early days of recording, composers did not receive royalties for the reproduction of their music. Sousa helped change this. Twice, he testified before Congress explaining that musical reproductions could potentially replace live concerts, thereby, jeopardizing the very profession the recording industry promoted. His campaign included magazine articles that criticized the early recording companies' unethical practices. His efforts resulted in the copyright bill, which allowed royalties on, not only recorded music, but printed works as well.
When America entered World War I, Sousa once again turned to military life in order to serve his country. At the age of 62, he enlisted in the U.S. Naval Reserve Force as a lieutenant-the first navy musician to be a commissioned officer. He established his own pay-one dollar a month firmly refusing more.
Assigned to the Great Lakes Naval Training Station in Illinois, Sousa recruited and organized the band corps. Eager to work under such an accomplished conductor, young musicians gladly enlisted. With members numbering over 300, the large band was split into several smaller ones making appearances all over the nation. The "Jackie" bands, as they were known, supported war efforts such as bond drives and the Red Cross. The musical soldiers' enthusiasm was contagious as they raised over twenty-one million dollars for the cause along with the spirits of a country immersed in a crippling conflict.
Sousa himself, not only had his men's professional respect, but earned their personal admiration as well. He ate with them, slept with them, and marched alongside them despite their forty-year age difference. He even shaved off his famous beard in an attempt to be more like the young men he led. During his tenure with the navy, he trained over 3,000 bandsmen and all the while continued writing marches-U.S. Field Artillery (1917), Sabre and Spurs (1918), and Solid Men to the Front (1918) all composed during World War I.
After the war, Sousa continued touring with his civilian band, but his interests turned toward American youth. He encouraged the development of school bands and orchestras. He even invited local children to play during intermission at his own concerts. He judged competitions although he was rarely critical. The children's interest in music was his main concern.
At the age of seventy-seven, Sousa was still going strong. On February 22, 1932, he stood in front of the Capitol building conducting the army, navy and Marine Corps bands in a performance of George Washington Bicentennial (1930)-a march he had written in honor of the first president's 200th birthday. Five days later, he played at the annual dinner of the Military Order of the Caraboa attended by General Douglas MacArthur, Chief of Staff of the U.S. Army.
Two weeks later on March 5th, Sousa was in Reading, Pennsylvania as a guest conductor of the Ringgold Band. That night at rehearsal, he uncharacteristically complained of a cold. Nevertheless, he concluded the run-through with his most famous march, Stars and Stripes Forever. Fittingly, it was the last piece ever played under Sousa's personal direction. Early the next morning, at the Abraham Lincoln Hotel, John Philip Sousa suffered a heart attack and died.
Instead of a concert, the Ringgold Band, along with an honor guard, escorted Sousa's body to the train station where he was taken back to Washington. Sousa, wearing his U.S. Navy lieutenant commander's uniform, was laid in state at the Marine Band Auditorium. With honor guards standing nearby and an oversized American flag hanging behind his coffin, the Marine Band paid tribute with a memorial performance narrated by a young Arthur Godfrey. Three days later, eight white horses pulled the caisson carrying Sousa's body to Congressional Cemetery where he was buried with full military honors.
John Philip Sousa served under five U.S. presidents: Hayes, Garfield, Cleveland, Arthur and Harrison, but it was Ronald Reagan who honored him. On December 11, 1987, Reagan signed a bill passed by Congress that recognized Stars and Stripes Forever as our national march. Only one other song is officially recognized by the U.S. government-our national anthem, The Star Spangled Banner.
"If, out of the cadences of Time, I have evoked one note that, clear and true, vibrates gratefully on the heartstrings of my public-I am well content." Well, Mr. Sousa you've done more than that. Even now, your music inspires us. In it we still find comfort, courage and strength. Thanks to you, when we hear those high-stepping sounds we remember who we are.
Founded in 1798 and for the last 200 years, the U.S. Marine Band has performed for every United States president since John Adams. It was Thomas Jefferson who named the group "The President's Own," marking the Marine Band's primary mission.
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