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commercial spaces like theaters, and to performances spanning the gamut from the solemn, to the joyous. This diversity encompassed celebrations outside the expected calendar of national days. Patriotic sentiment was even a key feature of events celebrating the economic and commercial expansion of the new nation. The commemorative celebration for the laying of the foundation-stone of the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad, the “great national work which is intended and calculated to cement more strongly the union of the Eastern and the Western States,” took place on July 4, 1828.1 It beautifully illustrated the musical ties that bound different spaces together – in this case a parade route, a temporary outdoor civic space, and the permanent space of the Holliday Street Theatre. Organizers chose July Fourth for the event, wishing to signal civic pride and affective patriotism. Baltimore filled with visitors in the days before the celebration, so that on the morning of the Fourth the “immense throng of spectators…filled every window in Baltimore-street, and the pavement below….fifty thousand spectators, at least, must have been present.” The parade was massive and incorporated a great diversity of groups, including “bands of music, trades, and other bodies.” One focal point was a huge model, “completely rigged,” of a naval vessel, the “Union,” complete with uniformed sailors. Bands playing patriotic tunes were interspersed amongst the nationalist imagery on display: militia uniforms, banners emblazoned with patriotic verse, national flags, eagle figures, shields, and more. Charles Carrollton, one of the last surviving signers of the Declaration of Independence, gave the main public address at the site, accompanied by a march composed for the occasion, the “Carrollton March” (see Figure 2.4). John Cole, 1 Baltimore Gazette and Daily Advertiser, July 5, 1828. 128 Figure 2.4. Sheet Music of “Carrollton March” (Baltimore: John Cole, 1831), Lester S. Levy Collection, Johns Hopkins University. This march was composed for the cornerstone celebration for the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad in 1828. 129 composer and one of Baltimore’s leading music printers, wrote the piece and after the ceremony issued it as sheet music for private piano performance. Notably, however, he also composed a “Song for the Day” that was a much simpler strophic song, with multiple verses printed in the pamphlet that included reportage of the celebration, and probably in handbill form on the Fourth itself.2 This song, distributed to crowds at the ceremony or along the parade route, made it easy to sing along with its patriotic sentiments. What was so notable about the celebration of the railroad was its easy appropriation of patriotic signifiers. There was no particular reason to lay the B&O cornerstone on July Fourth, but the twinning of private capital and civic boosterism with the patriotic sublime was prompted by the junctions between the spaces of performances: civic and commercial, public and private, indoor and outdoor, temporary and permanent. The elaboration of a multitude of places and venues for Americans to play and listen to music was a key factor in establishing and elucidating expressions of patriotism in the antebellum decades, spurring their transformation into a broadly shared public culture. 2 All quotes in this paragraph are from Detailed and Correct Account of the Grand Civic Procession, in the City of Baltimore, on the Fourth of July, 1828; in Honor of the Day, and in Commemoration of the Commencement of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad (Baltimore: Thomas Murphy, 1828), Rare MHE 2791.B7 1828 .B2, MdHS This pamphlet, a reprint of a series of columns running concurrently in the Baltimore American, included music and lyrics of the “Song for the Day,” written by John Cole. See also Dilts, The Great Road, 7-12. 130 —Chapter Three— National Music and American Identity, 1790-1848 The Norwegian violinist Ole Bull was one of the first and greatest of the wave of European musical virtuosi who spilled onto the shores of America during the nineteenth century; whether sublime or simply flashy, all took advantage of the stamp of Old-World refinement that accompanied them as they entertained American audiences. After he performed his new piece “Niagara” in 1844, the mutual love affair between Bull and his American audiences inaugurated a vogue for music celebrating the sublime natural wonders of the young nation. In 1855, after years of touring in the United States, Bull also offered a prize of $1,000 “for the best original grand opera by an American composer, and upon a strictly American subject.”1 His call occasioned a response from an anonymous critic in Philadelphia who 1 Daily Ohio Statesman, Columbus, Ohio, January 22, 1855. 131 wondered about the propriety of “our musical young gentlemen…turning their attention to American history” for inspiration. He also doubted whether young Americans were as yet capable of producing anything better than the then-popular waltzes, Italian opera potpourris, and Stephen Foster tunes. He argued that the new nation’s culture had not as yet reached the level of refinement necessary to give weighty subjects, or more complex musical forms, their proper due.2 They should, he wrote, emulate their more cultivated and better-trained European masters rather than strain to produce an indigenous American music. Many, including the irascible Transcendentalist John Sullivan Dwight, who reprinted the Philadelphia piece in his eponymous Journal, agreed with this critic. But other guardians of culture saw in Bull’s Niagara and its celebration of the natural sublime hopeful signs that a distinctive and elevated national music was taking shape. Intellectuals and tastemakers who debated the state of America’s music culture were participating in a discourse about national music and “national character,” which is the subject of the first section of this chapter. Although these elites often dismissed much of what went by the name of “patriotic music” in the United States as frivolous or crude, for them national music properly understood was patriotic music: almost by definition, it encouraged identification with the nation and its culture. And they had high hopes for it. As no less a figure than Lord Kames himself said, “patriotism…triumphs over every selfish motive, and is a firm support to every virtue.”3 Patriotic feeling, properly tuned, elevated morals. 2 “National Music,” Dwight’s Journal of Music vol. VI no. 18 (February 3, 1855): 139-140. 3 Henry Homes, Lord Kames, Sketches of the History of Man (Edinburgh: William Creech, 1774, 1807), 130. See also Adam Ferguson, An Essay on the History of Civil Society (Dublin: Boulter Grierson, 1767); J.G.A. Pocock, The Ancient Constitution and the Feudal Law: A Study of English Historical Thought in the Seventeenth Century, 2nd ed. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1957, 1987); Daniel N. Robinson, “The Scottish Enlightenment and the American Founding,” The Monist 90, no. 2 (April 2007): 170-181. 132 Critics who debated national music followed the Scottish Enlightenment stages of civilization schema, in which societies were placed on a continuum ranging from the simplest savage and barbaric cultures to the most advanced, commercial, and refined. For these critics, the national music of the new republic was an indice of America’s position on this continuum and raised vexed questions about its cultural heritage and future direction. Could a country that lacked a long history and therefore a culture rooted in “immemorial custom” produce a national music at all? If so, was it capable of the refined music characteristic of the most advanced civilizations? Dwight’s answer was evidently “no.” But perhaps, others said, this was not even desirable, given that refinement could slip so easily into corruption and effete luxury as it had in European aristocratic and court circles. Maybe the national music of simpler, freedom-loving peoples, like the Irish, who had only recently emerged from their barbaric pasts, was a better model for America.4 Men like Lowell Mason, the subject of the second section of this chapter, sought to elevate the nation’s culture and morals through the reform of sacred music and music education. Public reformers like Mason tried to instill what they regarded as proper moral and aesthetic responses to music. But they were also quick to include popular songs with patriotic themes in schoolbooks and in songbooks for adult audiences, because they recognized their value in evoking emotional and moral attachment to the nation. Critics and reformers like Mason who regarded themselves as custodians of culture did not debate national musical culture in a vacuum. As they tried to define what 4 David Hume quoted in Stuart D. Warner, Donald W. Livingston, eds, Hume: Political Writings (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing, 1994), xxiii. See also Hume, “Of Refinement in the Arts,” The Philosophical Works of David Hume, Vol. III (Edinburgh: Printed for A. Black and W. Tate, 1826), 302- 316; Kames, Sketches of the History of Man, 491-525. The fine line between refinement and luxury was evident in many settings: see for example Knott, Sensibility and the American Revolution, 205-206. 133 a properly national music was, and to condemn other music as crude or frivolous, Americans were busily engaged in creating patriotic music through a variety of musical practices, molding it “in ways which gave expressive shape to their own lived experiences.”5 This was true even of concerts, thought to be the most elevated kind of musical performance, and the subject of the third section of this chapter. Concerts in the early nineteenth century included patriotic music of all kinds in their repertoire. Elite critics therefore had to contend with patriotic music that they would have liked to dismiss on aesthetic grounds. They might even have to concede that these productions, even when not meeting the highest standards of refinement, were ineffably “national” and right for the new republic.