Stephen Foster

OK. Announce to an audience they will be hearing songs like

The Old Folks at Home (Way Down Upon the Swanee River)

Camptown Races

I Dream of Jeannie with the Light Brown Hair

Oh, Susanna!

... and the entire room will go into a collective

YAAAWWWNNNN!!!!!

After all, the world has been sad and dreary for nigh on for two centuries with the trite and hackneyed chestnuts of Stephen Foster.

That's all well and good. But why have Stephen's songs still been sung and even recorded by musicians and groups as diverse and, yes, as popular as Joan Baez, Roy Orbison, Fleetwood Mac, Madeleine Peyroux, Ray Charles, Kathy Mattea, Joel Plaskett, James Taylor, the Annie Moses Band, Billy Joel, Emmylou Harris, Alison Krauss, Hugh Laurie, Katy Treharne, Parton, Tori Amos, Jerry Lee Lewis, Mavis Staples, Katy Treharne, Kristin Chenoweth, Randy Newman, Troy von Balthazar, Bob Dylan, Linda Gail Lewis, Eric Clapton, Dolly Parton, John Fogerty, Bruce Springsteen, Syd Straw, Waylon Jennings, Judy Collins, Van Morrison, Ruthie Foster, the Indigo Girls, and Johnny Cash?

Oh, yes, there was a group called the Beatles (whoever they were).

Well, you have to admit it. Stephen's songs just have what it takes to be popular. So everyone just has to deal with it.

But be warned!!! No one, that's no one sings all of Stephen's songs exactly the way he wrote them. Throughout Stephen's lifetime if people used certain words, made various characterizations, and promoted objectionable stereotypes it was not only thought acceptable but was considered the right and moral thing to do.

Fortunately - for Stephen's modern day publishers - editing his songs is pretty easy. For one thing, any objectionable words can be simply replaced. Even entire verses can be dropped.

Although the latter option seems extreme, it's really no problem. Stephen's most offensive verses are also the most poorly crafted, and in any case they just sound plain silly.

To be fair to Stephen, he himself preferred to write songs with noncontroversial lyrics. These parlor songs, often with syrupy, treacly lyrics and dirige-like tempos, were primarily intended as vehicles for young ladies to demonstrate their artistic ability while their beaming family and friends looked on.

But Stephen's publishers? That was something else. They wanted songs that would sell. And by the early 19th century the most popular entertainment in America was the minstrel show.

Minstrel shows combined song, dance, and comedy. But their defining characteristic was that the troupe consisted of white performers who wore black make-up - usually burnt cork and greasepaint. The intent was to make them appear (to use the polite words of the time) as "authentic Ethiopic singers".

Although now often swept under the rug, such buffoonish parodies of the Americanized African culture - today called "blackface" - were common. Even well past the mid-20th century (and later), you could see characters based on minstrel shows in cartoons, in films, and on television. School kids would perform in blackface, and once in a Quaint Town in the American Southwest, even the town's civic leaders - including the mayor and the school superintendent - put on a blackface minstrel show.

Since the shows were ridiculing a discriminated minority, they had wide appeal. As an indication of how pervasive the performances were in American Culture, in the 1850's Commodore Perry sailed uninvited into Yokahama Harbor. Then to introduce the Japanese to American culture he had the crew put on a minstrel show complete with some of Stephen's songs.

So yes, Stephen's publishers would print Stephen's favorite parlor songs. But it was the minstrel tunes that $old.

As to where a parlor song ended and a minstrel tune began, that's pretty much a function of personal preference, taste, and (we have to admit it) skilled editing. Today some of Stephen's current favorites were originally written "in dialect" and virtually no one would think about singing the lyrics as first penned.

In order not to confuse the songs of the minstrel show with the songs of the true minstrels - that is, wandering musicians and troubadours of the Middle Ages - the title sheet often stated the music was a plantation song. They were completely convincing as long as the listener had never been on a real plantation. During the Civil War, one Union soldier was surprised to find that none of the freed slaves knew any of Stephen's songs.

Stephen Collins Foster was born on July 4, 1826. Yes, this was not only Independence Day, but it was also the very day that the second and third Presidents of the United States - John Adams and Thomas Jefferson - both died.

Stephen's dad and mom, William and Eliza, had a total of nine kids of which Stephen was the youngest. Originally, the Fosters lived in a large house called "The White Cottage" which was situated on the bluffs above the Allegheny River. This is in what is now the Lawrenceville section of modern day Pittsburgh and where the Allegheny River turns toward south and heads downtown.

William was an all around businessman and merchant. He ran a steam factory, a stagecoach business, and handled shipments of goods that moved up down the three rivers that had made Pittsburgh a major hub of transportation for the expanding country.

Living in the White Cottage, Eliza said, was like living in Eden. Well, we know that Eden didn't last. Neither did William's businesses since, among other issues, he had a fondness for the bottle. Soon the family had to move from their Eden on the Allegheny to more affordable accommodations. Although the Fosters stuck around Pittsburgh they ended up barely squeaking by.

Fortunately, the eldest son, William, Jr., was now working as an engineer who helped build bridges, roads, canals, and that new fangled invention, the railroad. William prospered and would eventually rise to be a vice president of the Pennsylvania Railroad, which for more than a century was considered one of the best high-tech companies to work for.

Accounts vary as to how often Stephen visited the South, but it wasn't much more than two or three times. You read that when he was seven years old, his mom took him to visit her relatives in Louisville. Later he made a trip down the Mississippi to New Orleans. But most of his life he spent north of the Mason-Dixon line.

Stephen's formal education was patchy. Certainly school didn't seem to matter to him. He would leave the house for school but then head off down to Pittsburgh's docks on the rivers.

Of course, formal schooling in the early 19th century was a bit more rudimentary than it is today. All most people got was some reading, writing, and arithmetic - a curriculum called the Three R's showing that even the educators couldn't spell. But whatever his delinquencies, Stephen learned enough to get by.

It was Stephen's musical talent that stood out, and at an early age, he was picking out tunes on his sister's guitar. When he was older he learned to play the flute, which by all accounts he did well.

Stephen and some friends also set up a neighborhood theater in a carriage house. Stephen was a natural performer and often sang and played, yes, in blackface. Later and inexplicably, he became stage-shy and rarely performed unless he could do so incognito.

His parents believed that Stephen's interest music was fine as a part of a good education. But professional performers - actors, comedians, and musicians - were considered low life and not to be aspired to.

Instead young people from respectable families went into business. So William, Sr., enrolled his son into Jefferson College about 30 miles south of Pittsburgh.

But hold, on there, you may say. If Stephen was a rotten student, how did he get into college, for crying out loud? Today you find samples of college entrance tests from the 19th century that virtually no one can pass. Naturally these exams produce smirks from teachers since it proves that modern students are functional illiterates. So how was it that a habitual truant with little schooling could get into a college?

Now it is true that students today would probably not pass a college entrance exam from a century or two ago. But a student from the 1800's couldn't pass an entrance exam today either, be it the SAT, ACT, or other standardized tests. The subjects just aren't the same.

And it wasn't just the matter but the manner of the studies that changed. Even past the mid-20th century, schools taught a lot of rote memorization with no real point other than to keep the kids busy and make their life miserable. There are still those today who remember the torture of having to memorize long poems by bad poets. And does anyone really need to know the location of the headwaters of the Volga River?

Besides, a lot of the kids who got into the colleges couldn't pass the tests either. The sad truth was in the 19th century getting into college was easier the more money your folks had. Yes, the entrance examinations looked formidable on paper, but they were also - and we quote - "flexibly graded". And the richer the parents, the more flexible the grading.

Not like today, of course.

Of course.

But it didn't matter. Stephen didn't even bother showing up. Instead he moved into the city of Pittsburgh proper. His dad was not pleased, and wrote to William, Jr., that Stephen's "leisure hours are all devoted to musick for which he possess a strange talent." Looks like William, Sr., could use a bit of 'ritin' himself.

Despite the feeling that show business was not for upper crust citizens, if you wanted music it had to be live music. So demand for new songs and performers was strong. If you had talent you even had a chance to actually make a living at it.

And to be a professional composer was Stephen's intent. As a student, he had written a flute quartet which was performed in front of his classmates. Then when he was 18, he published his first song "Open Thy Lattice Love". Written as a parlor song, this certainly isn't one of Stephen's best. It was published in Philadelphia in 1844.

With the exception of the now-defunct music box there was little recording technology. Instead the music business was based almost entirely on sales of sheet music. The composing of popular songs was not a particularly crowded field and writing out arrangements was cumbersome and time consuming. So with relatively few aspiring composers, the publishers had the time to sift through their weekly submissions and pick those they liked. Then they would strike a deal with the composer.

Everyone knows the sad story. Yes, Stephen was a successful and popular composer. But he never made much money from his songs. One reason, you may read, is that there were no copyright laws at the time.

If that's what you read, though, it isn't correct. The US Constitution authorized Congress to pass copyright laws. But then and now it was common for the royalties to be a few cents on the dollar. So to get some ready cash, the composer would sell the copyright to the publisher.

There was also the problem of getting the royalties as even in later years some artists found out. Moses Asch, who founded Folkways Records in the late 1940's, would usually pay the performers a fee for the session and take them to lunch. But to get their royalties, the players had to take a pro-active approach. The singer and guitarist Dave Van Ronk would sometimes dress up in a ragged suit and wait until the Folkways office was filled with people waiting to see Moe. Then he'd stagger in as if on his last legs and cry out, "Moe! You're not paying me!" Moe would play the game and say, "Dave! I'm glad you're here. I was just about to write you a check." Then he'd write a check for $50 and hand it over.

Copyright or no, many a composer received little money for what became hit and even iconic tunes. And knowing the demands heaped upon a private entrepreneur, William just didn't think Stephen could cut it as a composer. So he asked another of his sons, Dunning, to hire Stephen as a bookkeeper in Dunning's Cincinnati shipping company.

It was during his time in Cincinnati that Stephen probably heard songs sung by real slaves. Cincinnati is right across the Ohio River from Covington, Kentucky. As was common for cities on the borders between slave and free states, Covington and Cincinnati became "stations" on the Underground Railroad. The Underground Railroad was a collection of roads, trails, and houses for the escaped slaves and was being run by those pesky abolitionists.

By the 1840's the rise of the abolitionist movement was putting a wedgie in many a Southerner's shorts. Their complaints were both general and specific.

The general gripe was that the abolitionists just wanted to get rid of slavery. Right then-and-there, no if-ands-or-buts, and no compensation to the slave owners.

As for the specific gripes, probably the most articulate summary is in the Declaration of the Immediate Causes Which Induce and Justify the Secession of South Carolina from the Federal Union. The South Carolinians said that the Northern States had not only outlawed slavery in their jurisdictions, but were ignoring the laws, both in letter and in spirit, that imposed obligations that the Northern states had to support the "Peculiar Institution".

You see, one of the laws that George Washington had signed when he was president was the Fugitive Slave Law. The law stipulated that if a slave escaped to the North, then the owner could take action to recover his - quote - "property" - unquote - even if slavery was outlawed in the northern state.

However, the slave holders found that when they showed up in the North they got the cold shoulder. So in 1850, the Southern Congressmen pushed through another Fugitive Slave Law that required the Northern States, their governments, and their citizens to cooperate and assist in apprehending the fugitive slaves. This, we must point out, was a federal law.

And - although you might not think it today - Federal laws have precedence over the state laws. Or as stated in the Constitution.

This Constitution, and the Laws of the United States which shall be made in Pursuance thereof; and all Treaties made, or which shall be made, under the Authority of the United States, shall be the supreme Law of the Land; and the Judges in every State shall be bound thereby, any Thing in the Constitution or Laws of any State to the Contrary notwithstanding.

And yet, the Northern States were not only refusing to cooperate with catching the slaves, but were actually passing state laws that made it hard to return the fugitives! One trick was to have a state law requiring that all captured fugitive slaves had to be represented by attorneys in a jury trial (virtual guaranteeing acquittal). Or when the federal courts ruled the return of fugitive slaves was a federal matter, the states passed laws that no state resources could be used to that end.

And things were even worse. Why, those Northern States had passed laws that would actually free slaves owned by southern slaveholders! For instance, Pennsylvania mandated that any slave coming into the state and residing there for more than half a year would be emancipated. This caused the Father of His Country, George Washington, considerable inconvenience when Philadelphia was the US capital. He had to make sure he had to rotate his house servants - including his master cook, Hercules - back to Mount Vernon every six months.

Then there was the final and most specific cause for the final split of the North and South. That was the election of Abraham Lincoln. Lincoln was elected in November, 1860, and South Carolina seceded the next month. Although Honest Abe claimed he wasn't going to interfere with slavery where it existed, obviously the slaveholders didn't believe him and the Southern States fell into secession like dominoes.

But throughout this tumultuous time Stephen kept composing songs. In 1848 and at the suggestion of his brother Morrison, he began entering songs in an on-going competition that was seeking "Ethiopian melodies". Stephen sent in the song whose title with modern editing was "Away Down South". It didn't win a prize but it was well received although thankfully it's rarely sung today.

The next song Stephen submitted, though, was "Oh, Susanna". It became an instant hit and the sheet music sold 100,000 copies - a huge sale for the time. The song's popularity ensured it was going to be sung for at least the next couple of centuries although this required the cutting of the most racist verses ever written. Today even "authentic re-enactors" change the words.

Stephen didn't earn a dime. According to Brother Morrison, Stephen simply gave the song to a publisher. But at least it did get him established as a bonafide songwriter. Stephen soon worked out a deal with the New York publisher, Firth, Pond, and Company. For the rest of his life, Stephen stayed with Mr. Firth and Mr. Pond.

By 1850, Stephen was on his way to becoming one of the most successful composers in America. In the ensuing decade, he earned about $1500 a year in royalities. This was fairly respectable salary - about what a middle level administrator made - but nothing like the dough his publishers raked in.

Some of Stephen's songs became so popular that they went into oral folk circulation. "Angelina Baker" is particularly popular with the Old Time Appalachian Music crowd, and many singers aren't aware they're singing something by Stephen Foster.

OK. But if Stephen's so great, why do people groan when they hear a Stephen Foster song is about to be played?

Well, mostly it's simply overexposure. If you want people to get re-interested in Stephen's work, you need to go for the lesser known songs.

Consider "Ring the Banjo". Not that well known to the general public, you might hear it as background music in that now faded genre, the Western. The tune was even used to accompany a barroom fight in the original series of the Wild Wild West.

Another favorite for Stephen's fans but less known to John and Josephine Q. Public is "The Glendy Burk". Various sources cite the song as being written in 1850 but not published for another ten years. The song tells the story of waiting for the paddle steamboat - The Glendy Burk .

For those who may want to sing along, here's an entirely new arrangement of both songs. You can click on the link below to hear the music played while singing along with the posted lyrics. You can also see the sheet music for the "Glendy Burk" in a new window here and the music for "Ring the Banjo" if you click here.

So now sing along with - ah - Stephen.

The Glendy Burk/Ring the Banjo
Stephen Foster
(Audio file created with MuseSCORE)

(The Glendy Burk)

The Glendy Burk is a mighty fast boat
With a mighty fast captain, too.
He sits up there on the hurricane roof
For to keep his eye on the crew.
I can't stay here for they work me too hard.
I'm bound to leave this town.
I'll take my duds and tote 'em on my back
When the Glendy Burk comes down.

Ho! for Lousiana!^*
I'm bound to leave this town.
I'll take my duds and tote 'em on my back
When the Glendy Burk comes down.

The Glendy Burk has a funny old crew
And they sing the boatman's song.
They burn the pitch and the pine knots, too,
For to shove the boat along.
The smoke goes up and the engine roars,
And the wheel goes round and round.
So fare you well for I'll take a little ride,
When the Glendy Burk comes down.

Ho! for Lousiana!
I'm bound to leave this town.
I'll take my duds and tote 'em on my back
When the Glendy Burk comes down.

I'll work all night in the wind and storm.
I'll work all day in the rain
'Til I find myself on the levy dock
In New Orleans again.
They make me mow in the hay field here
And knock my head with the flail.
I'll go where they work with the sugar and the cane
And roll on the cotton bale.

Ho! for Lousiana!
I'm bound to leave this town.
I'll take my duds and tote 'em on my back
When the Glendy Burk comes down.

My lady love is as pretty as a pink.
I'll meet her on the way.
I'll take her back to the sunny Old South,
And there we'll make our stay.
So don't you fret my honey, dear!
Oh don't you fret Miss Brown!
I'll take you back 'fore the middle of the week
When the Glendy Burk comes down.

Ho! for Lousiana!
I'm bound to leave this town.
I'll take my duds and tote 'em on my back
When the Glendy Burk comes down.

(Ring the Banjo)

Oh, the time is never dreary
While the old folks never groan.
And the ladies never weary
With the rattle of the bones.
Oh, come again, Susanna,
By the gaslight of the moon.
I'll turn the old piano
When the banjo's out of tune.

Ring, ring the banjo!
I love that good old song!
Come again, my true love,
Oh where you been so long?

Oh, never count the bubbles
When there's water in the stream.
The young folks have no troubles
When they've got this song to sing.
The beauties of creation.
Will never lose their charm
While I roam the old plantation
With my true love on my arm.

Ring, ring the banjo!
I love that good old song!
Come again, my true love,
Oh where you been so long?

Once I was so lucky
My Master set me free.
I went to old Kentucky
Just to see what I could see.
I could not go no further.
I turn to Master's door.
I love him all the harder.
I'll go away no more.

Ring, ring the banjo!
I love that good old song!
Come again, my true love,
Oh where you been so long?

Early in the morning
Of a lovely summer's day
My master sent me warning
He'd like to hear me play.
On the banjo I was tappin'.
I come with dulcem strain
My master fell a-nappin'.
He'll never wake again.

Ring, ring the banjo!
I love that good old song!
Come again, my true love,
Oh where you been so long?

My love, I'll have to leave you
While the river's running high.
But I never can deceive you
So don't you wipe your eye.
I'm going to make some money,
But I'll come another day.
I'll come again, my honey,
If I have to work my way.

Ring, ring the banjo!
I love that good old song!
Come again, my true love,
Oh where you been so long?

At first you'd think the least likely fan of Stephen's songs would be the black abolitionist, orator, and writer, Frederick Douglass. But once you cut out the condescending dialect (omitted above), you can see why Frederick found much to praise in Stephen's songs. The Glendy Burke pictures the protagonist - who evidently is a free black man - in a positive light. He is a hard worker and is striving to improve his lot in life. And such characterization of the singer was common in others of Stephen's songs.

And Ring the Banjo has a specific reference to slave resistance in a manner used by the slaves did themselves. Real slave songs often had double meanings that expressed the long pent-up hostility while openly appearing as expressing happy and warm feelings.

If you look closely at the the verse:

Early in the morning
Of a lovely summer's day
My master sent me warning
He'd like to hear me play.
On the banjo I was tapping.
I come with dulcem strain
My master fell a-napping.
He'll never wake again.

Now it doesn't take a specialist in literary analogies to understand what it means if someone "falls a napping" who'll "never wake again". And if he does so in the presence of, well, a "servant", there's the natural question of what actually was going on.

Slaves rising against their owners was a constant fear particularly with the rise of the abolitionist movement. And a particularly vehement and specific gripe was that the abolitionists were actively encouraging their slaves to rebel.

Was there any basis for the fear? We must be honest and say there was indeed.

After the capture of John Brown at Harper's Ferry on October 18, 1859, Frederick Douglass was accused of complicity. He had to flee to England although he steadfastly denied he had been involved.

But John Brown had tried to recruit Frederick. The two men met at a rock quarry near Chambersburg, Pennsylvania, where John told Frederick of his plans. Frederick couldn't persuade John to drop the idea and when he learned that John had gone through with it, he crossed into Canada and then onto England.

However, it wasn't until years later that Frederick admitted he had earlier agreed to support John's plans for establishing armed guerilla bands of slaves in the mountains. The intention - at least Frederick's - was not to attack the Southern whites, but to help the slaves escape. But that there were active plans to organize slaves to operate against the slaveholders can't be denied.

An even more immediate fear was the slaves - even the "trusted house servants" - would act both individually and surreptitiously. And probably the biggest worry of the owners was their slaves would poison them.

Which sometimes they did. There are documented cases of slave slipping poison to their owners or to their families. There were also cases where the poisoning wasn't recognized as such and only learned of years later when the slaves confessed. Detection of poison was almost impossible, and the symptoms were often indistinguishable from some of the common diseases. So there were indeed cases where a slave's master or family member "fell a nappin'" to "never wake again".

The slave owners would have not missed the allusion in Stephen's verse. So today although "Ring the Banjo" is a favorite among Stephen's fans, at the time it was not very popular - certainly not in the South - and sold relatively poorly.

Returning to the more cheerful topic of Stephen's music, Frederick Douglass made it clear there was a difference in enjoying the music of the minstrel shows and approving of the performances. A pro-slavery editor once panned the Hutchinson Brothers, a group of abolitionist entertainers who kept their white identity on stage. Frederick snorted that the editor clearly preferred the blackface groups like the "Virginia Minstrels," "Christy's Minstrels," or the "Ethiopian Serenaders" or ...

... any of the filthy scum of white society, who have stolen from us a complexion denied to them by nature, in which to make money, and pander to the corrupt taste of their white fellow-citizens.

That was one thing about Frederick Douglass. You just couldn't get him to say what was on his mind.

Frederick was non-committal regarding to what degree the tunes reproduced authentic slave songs. Still, he felt the songs did at least "awaken the sympathies for the slave, in which anti-slavery principles take root and flourish."

But what did Stephen himself think about slavery? Well, some places you'll read Stephen Foster was an ardent abolitionist. Unfortunately, the writers are talking about Stephen Symonds Foster.

Stephen S. Foster was indeed a stanch abolitionist, and his rhetoric was so strong that even Frederick Douglass sometimes felt he went too far. But who as far as we know, Stephen S. never wrote a song in his life.

Stephen C. never said what he thought about the "Current Crisis" facing the Nation. In general, though, his family were all pretty much "War Democrats". That is, they didn't vote for Lincoln but they were opposed to the dissolution of the Union.

So when the Civil War was declared (although it never was), Stephen, as did some other composers, accepted the challenge to write music for the poem, "We Are Coming Father Abraham 300,000 More". Despite the by-line on the sheet music, the words were not by the poet William Cullen Bryant. Instead the lyrics were by James Sloan Gibbons.

Stephen's music for the song is OK but he was clearly writing a parlor song. The version you're more likely to hear uses the brass band music of Luther Orlando Emerson.

In 1850 at age 24, Stephen married Jan McDowell. They had a daughter the next year named Marion. Yes the name is Marion with an "o". This causes some confusion and in some writings you may see "Marion" listed as Stephen's son.

The marriage was not particularly happy and Jane moved out a number of times with the last separation apparently in 1854. The problem is Stephen like his dad took a liking to the bottle, and like many wives, Jane decided a bottle was too much of a competition for marital bliss.

In early January, 1864, Stephen came down with a fever, which, as with most 19th century illnesses is rather vaguely described. As we know, many medicines of the time included alcohol, and it's possible Stephen supplemented the treatment with higher than the recommended dosage.

On January 10 Stephen tried to climb out of bed, but fell against a bedside washbasin. This produced a nasty cut to his head, and he was taken to a hospital. Although the injury wasn't necessarily too serious by today's standards, in those pre-antibiotic days even small wounds could lead to deadly infections. Stephen died three days later, at age 37, with 38 cents to his name.

References

The Life and Times of Stephen Foster, Susan Zannos, Masters and Music - The Worlds' Greatest Composers, Mitchell Lane Publishers, 2004.

Stephen Foster and American Song, A Guide for Singers, Samantha Mowery, Graduate Thesis, The Ohio State University, 2008.

"Stephen Foster", Center for American Music, University of Pittsburgh.

"Open Thy Lattice Love", Stephen Foster (composer), George Willig (publisher), Philadelphia, 1844, Library of Congress.

"Stephen Foster's Civil War", John Vacha, MHQ, The Quarterly Journal of Military History, Vol. 30, No. 2, Winter, 2018. (Reprinted on the History Net).

"Stephen Foster's Songs Speak to a Modern Era", David Browne, The New York Times, April 12, 1992.

"Stephen C. Foster Historical Marker", ExplorePAhistory.com.

"Total U.S. Slave Population by State", American Civil War.

"Behind The Blackface: Minstrel Men and Minstrel Myths", Robert C. Toll, American Heritage, April/May, Volume 29, Issue 3, 1978.

"Stephen Foster Lyrics", Center for American Music, University of Pittsburgh.

"History of College Admissions in the U.S.", Yvonne Romero da Silva, Presentation, National Association for College Admission Counseling.

"Singing a New Song: Stephen Foster and the New American Minstrelsy", Matthew Shaftel, Music and Politics, Volume 1, Issue 2, Summer 2007

"Stephen Foster's World Truly Was Sad and Dreary", Karal Ann Marling, The New York Times, September 3, 1997.

"The Hutchinson Family - Hunkerism", Frederick Douglass, The North Star, October 27, 1848. Reprinted at Uncle Tom's Cabin and American Culture, University of Virginia.

"Christy's Minstrels and Stephen Foster", History of Minstrelsy, University of South Florida Libraries.

"Foster's Music Gets His Gall, Doo-Dah/Foster's Music Gets His Gall, Doo-Dah", Tony Norman, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette Columnist, April 20, 2010.

"Foster's Melodies No. 48. The Glendy Burk, A Plantation Melody Written and Composed by Stephen C. Foster, New York, Published by Firth, Pond, & Co, 547 Broadway, Entered according to an Act of Congress in the year 1860 by Firth Pond & Co, in the Clerks Court of the Southern District of New York", The Lester S. Levy Sheet Music Collection, Johns Hopkins University.

"Fugitive Slave Laws", Encyclopaedia Britannica.

"Personal-liberty laws", Encyclopaedia Britannica.

"Glendy Burk", Time Talbott, Random Thoughts on History, June 8, 2011.

MuseScore, https://musescore.org/en. Online music notation software.