. His best days as a songwriter were over. His audience had divided itself along political, economic, and racial lines. On Saturday 9 January 1864, Foster felt sick and went to bed early. He was staying in a poor but decent hotel on the Bowery. On Sunday morning, he spoke to a maid at his door, then turned and fell, breaking a piece of crockery that gashed his neck. His comrade George Cooper (who lived only four blocks away) was sent for. He found Foster naked in a pool of blood. The songwriter whispered, "I'm done for" and asked for a drink.