Carey Elmore (Ralph Irving?) Morgan, Jr.

Carey Morgan was a Christmas present to his parents, born in Brownsburg, Indiana, on December 25, 1884, to minister Dr. Carey Elmore Morgan and his bride Ella May Dailey. An unsolved mystery is left with this birth, however. The 1900 census, a newspaper mention, and a family book from 1902 showed the boy to be Ralph Irving Morgan, while from 1903 forward there is only mention of a Carey or Carey, Jr., but no Ralph. In some subsequent Federal census records there was a Ralph J. Morgan, a railroader who lived in Pennsylvania, and who otherwise matched most of the basic demographics. Could he have been a twin to Carey, or was the 1900 record just a coincidence? There are are indicators that lead to some resolution. First, Indiana birth records only had one birth of a boy shown for the couple on December 25, 1884. Secondly, in both the 1900 and 1910 census records, Ella May shows as only having given birth to three children, the other two being Walter Dailey (7/28/1886) and Ruth (5/1892). As there is a mention in the Richmond [Virginia] Times Dispatch of December 21, 1900, of Ralph Morgan, son of Reverend Carey E. Morgan, coming home from Washington and Lee University for the holiday, it is also probable that there was a name change implemented between 1901 and 1903.

Dr. Morgan was either sent to or hired by a few key churches during his long tenure. The family lived in Indiana until late 1892, when he was called to Minneapolis, Minnesota, to serve the Portland Avenue Church of Christ.

Reverend Carey E. Morgan

The family then moved back down to Indianapolis, Indiana around 1897. In 1899 the Morgans then ventured to Richmond, Virginia, so that the elder Morgan could serve at the non-denominational Seventh Street Christian Church. The 1900 census showed the family residing in Richmond with Carey, Jr., listed still as Ralph I. The elder Carey was listed as a clergyman, and they had a servant in the parsonage. In 1903 the Morgans relocated once again, this time to Paris, Kentucky, where Reverend Morgan became an important and oft-called upon fixture in the religious life of that small city. Described as charismatic, passport records showed Dr. Morgan to be a towering six feet three and a half inches in height. It is unclear if either of his sons retained any of those characteristics.

It was in Paris that the oldest son of Dr. Morgan was first publicly referred to as Carey, Jr., although nothing in the family history suggests the nature of or reason for the change. In spite of the frequent moves during his childhood, it is likely, given the association with the church where there was always music, that Carey learned to play from accompanists, choir masters, school systems, possible private lessons, and perhaps some self-teaching. After leaving Washington and Lee in 1904, the April 19, 1904 edition of Bourbon News of Paris, KY, noted that he was leaving for his former of Richmond to accept a lucrative position. While it is unclear what that was, it appears to have been in either the typewriter or newstype business as a salesman. Walter, who attended school in Peoria, Illinois, before moving to Indianapolis in 1905, would soon become a salesman for Royal Typewriters. By 1909, Walter was married and living in Chicago. The younger Carey had possibly switched careers. The 1910 enumeration showed him living again with his parents in Paris, working as a commercial traveler for wholesale shows. However, it was not in the type business, as there is some information to suggest that it was for New York publisher Ted Snyder.

The time line is unclear, but it appears that Carey's job took him to Kansas City for a period of time in mid-1910. He had been dabbling in song-writing, and his earliest collaborations were with Walter. Working with Snyder might have inspired him enough to give it a go, as noted in The Billboard of August 20, 1910:

In spite of this news, any pieces by either brother published prior to 1913 were not uncovered in research, even as a vanity press. It is quite possible that they were not quite ready at that time. A November, 1911, article from the Bourbon News about the Reverend Carey visiting his sons suggests that they were both living in Manhattan, New York, by that time. the brazilian cover

It would be another two years before any known publications made it to the stores, but they would be the start of a fairly good music career for Carey Morgan, and the end of such aspirations for Walter. heir song On a Rainy Day got a boost in vaudeville through performer Harry Puck, who also appears to have helped to get Carey established with the publishing house of Joseph W. Stern. While the brothers had three songs finally published in New York in 1913, the piece that got the attention of the music world was Carey's tango number, The Brazilian. It was issued at a time of rising popularity of tango and habanera-tinged numbers, and was given a boost when it was briefly featured by the famed husband and wife dancing team of Vernon and Irene Castle. He had a similar success with his Florence: Maxixe in 1914, which was released with some other tunes that had almost no shelf life.

There is a chance that Carey was not entirely swayed by the possibility that he could make a living as a songwriter. The 1915 New York State census showed he and Walter residing together in Manhattan, with Carey as a type salesman and Walter as a sales manager, likely for the Royal Typewriter Company. But his luck was about to change. In 1915 Morgan finally wrote a piece that has enjoyed some endurance, albeit in altered form. After some success with a fox trot titled Dicty Doo, which was also released as a song, he literally tipped his hat to ragtime with his Trilby Rag (a Trilby being a style of British headwear named after a stage play in which it was worn, which was named after the 1894 George du Maurier novel Trilby, named after its heroine). It was not a remarkable piece of its own when it came it, but it was passable, and enjoyed a few recordings and piano rolls within a couple of years. It was apparently composer for the Castles in the wake of the defection of their former composer/conductors James Reese Europe and Ford Dabney. However, it was not Morgan's original incarnation that made the tune famous.

In 1922, pianist Charles "Cow-Cow" Davenport (who stated he got his name from his own Cow Cow Blues, originally a railroad song, in reference to the cow catcher on a locomotive that some brakemen used to board the train) committed an altered version of what is still obviously the same rag to piano roll, calling it The Atlanta Rag. It was performed more in the barrelhouse style that was emerging at the time. trilby rag cover

Not content with that rendition, Davenport incorporated parts of it into his early boogie-styled piece, the aforementioned Cow Cow Blues, and then he even boldly substituted his own name in place of Morgan's as the composer for yet another rendition of the piece, this time titled Texas Shout. Fortunately for historians, pianist Wally Rose helped to rediscover the original tune on his 1953 Columbia release, Ragtime Piano Masterpieces, but adding yet another title for the piece into the musical lexicon, Silent Movie Rag. In any case, each subsequent performance of the piece has improved on it in some regard, yet retained the interesting trio section with its interesting bass line and static right hand repetition. One of the parts dropped from most of the Davenport performances was the interesting minor interlude in the trio. There are no reports of any suits every launched by Morgan against Davenport, but it is likely he knew of the plagiarism during his lifetime.

The composer of the lyrics for Dicty Doo was none other than journalist and writer L. Wolfe Gilbert, who had his first big success as the co-writer of Waiting for the Robert E. Lee. He took a liking to Morgan, and from 1916 to 1917 they turned out a few more tunes that quickly got legs. Among them was Hawaiian Sunshine, which was right on top of the growing affinity for songs about that exotic American territory in the Pacific, and fared well against the biggest of the hits, Yaaka Hula Hickey Dula. My Own Iona was in the same vein, and enjoyed some success on the vaudeville stage as well as in the stores and on piano rolls. It was repurposed from a fox trot into a waltz titled Myona. They also did two pre-war songs, including I've Got the Army Blues, and the comically direct anti-Kaiser song Someday, Somebody's Gonna Get You. On the latter piece, both composers just happened to come into a strangely coincidental and humorous episode, as reported in the New York Clipper of May 30, 1917:

Another collaboration from this period, albeit a one-time thing, was with the talented black ragtime pianist and composer J. Hubert "Eubie" Blake, resulting in the highly popular Bugle Call Rag. But it was with two other composer/lyricists that Carey would find his sweet spot, one of them turning into a long and fruitful relationship. oh helen! cover

He had already composed Good-Bye Ragtime with vaudevillian Arthur Monday Swanstrom in 1913, followed by a couple of less than memorable tunes the following year. However, in late 1917 they started in on a success of vaudeville sketches and one to three-act shows which yielded a number of songs, not all of which were published. In 1918, it appeared almost as if they pair just sat down one week and started turning out songs of every kind, most with a comic bent or clever double entendres. They were not slouches in any way when it came to turning out material concerning the ongoing war in Europe, and even though none of them ever came close to challenging George M. Cohan's mega-hit Over There, the team still got honorable mentions in the trades for their efforts. Four of those pieces were completed from lyrics by Arthur Guy Empey, who had the distinction of having served with both the American and British forces during World War I, and wrote a book called Over the Top about his experiences. That became a stage play then a screenplay, giving Empey's name enough gravitas at the time to warrant the collaboration with Morgan and Swanstrom.

The pair also managed to tickle the funny bone of a funny guy, no less than Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle, who was in the business of making comedies for Paramount Pictures. Two of Morgan's pieces received at least some endorsement from the actor in the way of a cover photo and association with a film, including the stuttering song Oh Helen!, and the lisping lament Sipping Cider Thru a Straw written with Lee David, in an era where making fun of such afflictions was deemed good sport. Perhaps in an effort to avoid the inevitable draft that was coming for men in his age group, Carey enlisted in the United States Navy in the late spring. When he finally got his orders, he served at the District Communication Superintendent's Office in New York as their Chief Quartermaster from August through November, a total of 81 days. Just the same, much was made of his relationship with the Navy in the trades, and advertisements for his songs in newspapers made sure to include U.S.N. after his name. (The elder Carey also made news during this time, having gone to England and France in his capacity as a minister, representing the Y.M.C.A. during the transition beyond the end of the conflict.)

The other talented writer that Carey composed with from 1918 to 1919 was Charles R. McCarron. The two of them had similar success with their wartime numbers, and the clever McCarron appeared to have a very bright future in front of him. blues my naughty sweetie gave to me cover

blues my naughty sweetie gave to me cover

One of their most popular tunes of that time was I'm Glad I Can Make You Cry. The team had a few pieces ready for release in 1919 when McCarron was taken by a combination of pneumonia and the Spanish flu pandemic on January 27. Publisher Stern along with Morgan saw to it that his final pieces made it to market in an effort to give his widow some royalties and financial relief. One was a clever tune about President Woodrow Wilson and his wife. However, the real sensation that would keep McCarron's legacy alive was also co-written with Swanstrom. A true harbinger of coming "jazz age," both in content and attitude, the somewhat salacious Blues My Naughty Sweetie Gives to Me quickly became a jazz band favorite, and has remained so for a century. One of the hallmarks of that time was the addition of "patter choruses," which were more monotonic than melodic, and fast-paced tongue twisters for the sake of comedy. The one in Blues was one of the more finely crafted ones ever done, and still takes some doing to master by contemporary performers. This song overall benefitted not only McCarron's widow, but gave a lot of traction to the careers of Swanstrom and Morgan, who had already turned their attention more to the vaudeville and Broadway stages.

One of the first major offerings of the duo was Fifty-Fifty, Ltd., which was first presented on Broadway in January of 1919. Adapted from a William Gillette property, All the Comforts of Home, and the subject of some positive reviews, the show fared fairly well for most of the year both in New York for two runs, as well as on the road. However, Arthur Hammerstein, who produced the show in his theater, had an issue with Joseph Stern's publication of one of the pieces, The Argentines, The Portuguese and the Greeks, claiming that it was also the property of himself and the show's star, Herbert Corthell. Disputes of this type had become commonplace in the business, and as was most often the case was found by the courts in favor of the stated composers who had beat the others to the punch for the copyright. While it did not kill the show, it may have soured the relationship between the composers and some theater owners, as their main presentation venue soon became vaudeville rather than Broadway.

Carey had gotten married in 1917 to singer and actress Madelene Florence Fliege, whom he had likely met through mutual musical connections. The January, 1920, enumeration showed the couple residing in Manhattan along with Madelene's brother Herbert, with Carey shown as a composer of music. hawaiian bluebird cover

Within a few months she would give birth to a daughter, Madelene C.. In the meantime, Swanstrom and Morgan continued to write and perform, with Carey at the piano or conducting the orchestra, and Arthur sometimes singing a role. In the fall of 1920 they came up with the Dance Duet starring Frances Pritchard, who in spite of her dancing capability was poorly reviewed for not being able to project beyond the tenth row. The following year they came up with The Greenwich Village Follies, which was cast as a "Revusical Comedy." It started early in the year in a Sheridan Square theater in the village, but through the strength of its content and its cast, led largely by the dynamic redhead Irene Franklin and additional material by talented composer Blanche Merrill, the show made it to the Shubert Theater in Midtown Manhattan by late summer, playing to good reviews and receptive audiences.

Possibly based on this success, Morgan and Swanstrom started focusing more on writing and producing shows than they did on writing popular songs. In 1922, this included the revue Figure It Out, featuring a chorus of "Eight Beautiful Eggs." Evidently few people wanted to figure it out, so the show closed within two weeks, but went on the road briefly. This was followed in the spring of 1923 by a shorter musical titled Her Personal Appearance, which also had a relatively brief run, as did Sadie — One of Those Girls later in the year. They finally got a hit again in 1924 with Honeymoon Cruise, which was commissioned and produced by Ned Wayburn initially at the Orpheum, then a run at the famous Palace Theater. It was helped along greatly by the stars, the charming Bennie Fields and his vivacious bride Blossom Seeley. Later in the year Wayburn added Dancing Darlings to his list of productions, staged at the Hotel Shelburne, with music by Morgan, who also directed the orchestra.

Carey continued to work in music for a little while. At times he conducted his own orchestra at various theaters and for special events over the next couple of years. With Swanstrom he helped stage the short-lived The Dance Voyage in 1927. This was followed another less than successful venture, The Lone Dancer, in 1928. It would be their last joint effort. In mid-1927, Madelene Morgan gave birth to the couple's second daughter, Carylin. It is unclear what type of relationship Carey and Madelene had by that time, but they rarely appeared to be living together from that point forward. The 1930 census showed Madelene and the children residing with her widowed mother in Neptune, New Jersey, while Carey was difficult to locate in that record, possibly in England at that time. Walter had been working for the Royal Typewriter Company of England for some years, and Carey, now no longer writing, took a position with them as well. In 1936 Walter died in Middlesex, England, where he had taken up residence in the early 1930s.

A 1937 directory for Asbury Park, New Jersey, near Neptune, indicated the possibility that Carey and Madelene were living in the same home. However, the 1940 enumeration and Carey's 1942 draft record showed him living in Manhattan as a typewriter salesman, now for the Smith & Corona Company. On the draft record he gave Madelene's address in Asbury Park. This was likely a temporary situation, as both continued to reside with Madeline's mother in New Jersey, as noted in the 1950 census, which showed Carey still in the typewriter business. Despite a resurgence in the popularity of Trilby Rag and its variations in the 1950s, as well as recordings of Blues My Naughty Sweetie Gives to Me, Carey Morgan was all but forgotten to the public for the last three decades of his existence. He died while on travel in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, in 1960 at age 75, a victim of congestive heart failure. He is interred at Hamilton Cemetery in Monmouth New Jersey.