Railroad music: The Carrollton March

I have always had an amateur interest in music, having played piano and violin as a youth. Therefore, I was delighted when I was researching my book on the social history of the American Transportation Revolution and discovered some contemporary music written about railroads. I kept digging, and ultimately collected 63 pieces of music written between 1825 and 1860 which either attempted to mimic railroads or steamboats, were written in honor of railroads or steamboats, or had pictures of railroads or steamboats printed on the front page. Most of this music was written for solo piano; as I discovered from reading performance reviews, there was also orchestral music that took inspiration from steam transit. Needless to say, I was delighted that music ended up forming a critical part of my book's third chapter, on the arts.

But what the music sound like? My piano skills aren't up to the task of recording this myself—and I don’t own a piano. Thankfully, technology stepped into the gap. Using the iPad program Staffpad, I was able to transcribe and generate a sound file for one of the earliest pieces: Arthur Clifton's "Carrollton March" of 1828.

You can find the sheet music here.

And here is the recording, generated by Staffpad:

According to a biography written by Nathan Bucker of the University of Nebraska at Kearney, Arthur Clifton was the pseudonym of Philip Antony Corri, born in Edinburgh in 1784. He moved to the United States in 1817 and settled in Baltimore where was baptized under the name Arthur Clifton and earned a living as a composer, performer, and church musician, among other things. He died in 1832.

“Carrollton March” was one of at least five pieces of music composed in Baltimore with respect to the groundbreaking of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad on July 4, 1828. “Carrollton” is a reference to Charles Carroll of Carrollton, signer of the Declaration of Independence, who was present at the groundbreaking. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did!

Railroads, self-invention, and fun

For some antebellum Americans, steam transit offered anonymity. One could board a train or steamboat and be surrounded by strangers. Rapidly whisked off to a different part of the county or country, passengers left behind their homes and perhaps the expectations that came with familiar territory. People could make use of this anonymity to remake themselves.

Sometimes, however, the anonymity that came with steam travel had lower stakes. People could move to a different part of the country and remake themselves—or they could simply try to have a bit of fun. This appears to have been what motivated Dexter Russel Wright on a train trip in upstate New York in 1843. A gentleman sat next to Wright in the train, and Wright decided to amuse himself by introducing himself as “Dunston” instead of by his real name. Wright/Dunston described where he was from, and his neighbor on the train exclaimed “you must know Miss Hargen.” Hargen was, in fact, Wright’s fiancée, but he was determined to keep up the ruse, saying only “I had the pleasure of a very slight acquaintance with the lady.” Wright decided to use this as an opportunity to learn about how he himself was perceived, inquiring what his seat-mate knew of “a man by the name Wright.” The passenger was free with gossip, revealing that Wright “is courting the young lady [Hargen], & is about to marry her. She appears much delighted with the idea and is particularly proud to mention it, in a secret manner, to all the dames and old crows in her neighborhood.” Wright realized that the passenger had no idea who he was, and so he “pushed the advantage [he] had gained and inquired what sort of a fellow young Wright was &c.” Once again, the busybody passenger was glad to oblige, reporting that Wright was “reputed to be a shrewd and intelligent chap.” The passenger was less impressed with his impending marriage to Miss Hargen, however: “I think Wright has missed it most damnedly, though though she is on the whole rather a good girl, considerably hot though.” Evidently the passenger considered Wright to be entering into a marriage that he would regret!

Wright reports that he was “entertained some two or three hours by my redoubtable acquaintance.” When the trip was over, surely they said their goodbyes, perhaps shook hands, and the gossiping passenger left none the wiser. Wright did not break off his engagement, but surely had a funny story to report when he got back home, which was undoubtedly his intent from the beginning.

There were plenty of opportunities for anonymity or re-invention, however temporary, on steam transit in the antebellum era. Wright’s tale shows that sometimes this anonymity could be purely for amusement.

This tale comes from Wright’s diary, which is available in the manuscript reading room at the Library of Congress.

Conversing with strangers

Have you ever struck up a conversation with—or tried to avoid a conversation with—the person sitting next to you on a plane? When we travel, we are surrounded by strangers, the vast majority of whom we will never see again. Sometimes conversation can be pleasant, other times we just want to be left alone. As antebellum Americans ventured into new types of travel, they, too, thought about how to deal with strangers they met en route.

Etiquette guides agreed that speaking to a stranger was acceptable. However, etiquette guides also frowned upon continuing any familiarity after the journey was over. For example, a 1838 guide told women that if a man introduced himself in a “proper and respectful manner,” then the woman could “respond with politeness, ease, and dignity.” However, the acquaintance established on a steamboat or train should not extend beyond the trip itself. The same guide informed readers that any acquaintanceships “must cease where they began,” and having a conversation on transportation “does not give you a right to after recognition.” (Etiquette for Ladies; with Hints on the Preservation, Improvement, and Display of Female Beauty [Philadelphia: Carey, Lea & Blanchard, 1838], 11, 12) Another guide published six years later concurred. People who meet while traveling “have no claim more than a passing bow if you afterwards find that the acquaintanceship is not particularly desirable.” (A Lady of New York, Etiquette for Ladies; A Manual of the Most Approved Rules of Conduct in Polished Society, for Married and Unmarried Ladies [New York: Burgess, Stringer, and Co., 1844], 12 [American Antiquarian Society]) If two people who had conversed on a train later met on a street corner, they were under no obligation to strike up a conversation again, nor did they have further social obligations to each other. The temporary nature of the acquaintance provided an easy “out” if the strangers' company proved distasteful.

Etiquette on antebellum railroads

As steam travel increased in the antebellum era, so to did conversations about etiquette. Etiquette guides added sections on how to behave on steamboats and railroads. But not all aspects of etiquette were detailed in rulebooks. Some aspects were determined by the passengers themselves, in the moment.

One such example of this comes from no less a personage than Frederick Douglass. In 1848, Douglass told of an exchange he witnessed between two passengers on a train. He named these passengers “Out of Seat” and “In the Seat,” instantly indicating the nature of their rift. Out of Seat wanted to return to where he was sitting, and In the Seat was determined to hold on to his place. In the Seat based his claim on a rule as understood among passengers: “when a seat is vacant it is as free for one gentleman as another.” Out of Seat argued that the seat should remain his since he was going to return and appealed to the man in the neighboring seat. But the neighbor remained “silent, evidently wishing to avoid a row.” Perhaps sensing an advantage, In the Seat added to his argument: “A man’s right to a seat ceases when he leaves it and there is nothing of his left in it to show that he intends to return to it again. This seat was entirely vacant when I took it.” Here In the Seat appealed to a common understanding among passengers. When Out of Seat turned surly, other passengers raised their voices to enforce the rules of etiquette with their laughter at Out of Seat and shouts of “Hold to your Seat.” Out of Seat finally realized that he would not win, and went “peaceably into another car amid the jeers of the surrounding passengers.” Passengers enforced the rules of etiquette through their public displays of contempt for the rule-breaker.

Douglass’s tale confirms that when considering how people behaved on steam transit, we need to look not just at the printed rules, but also the actual descriptions of travel itself. Passengers created—and enforced—etiquette on antebellum steam transit.

Source: North Star, September 15, 1848.

Aboveground railroads and the Underground Railroad

Over the past decade, the literature on the Underground Railroad as grown significantly. Works from Robert Churchill, R.J.M. Blackett, Charles Bolton, and others have added significantly to our understanding of the Underground Railroad, how it operated, and how it changed over time.

In my own work, I have had the opportunity to explore the impact of steam transit had on those attempting to flee slavery. Black abolitionists and their white allies were acutely aware of the power steam transit had to liberate the enslaved. In 1840, the Colored American made a very explicit argument about the link of railroads to freedom. The paper noted that just a few years prior, someone escaping slavery might need a week to walk from Baltimore to New York and would constantly be in danger of capture. By contrast, “Now so extensive are our railroads, and such the arrangements, one leaving upon the arrival of another, that a poor fugitive, may leave Baltimore in the morning, and the third night following, may find himself safely in Canada, a British subject.” The writer concluded that railroads could have no “better purpose” than helping people escape slavery. “May the railroad mania in our country increase,” declared the author, underlining the value that steam transit had for abolitionism. (Colored American, September 26, 1840) The same newspaper voiced similar sentiments in the following year, declaring that “Abolitionists ought to be the friends of internal improvements, even though it should bankrupt the nation, while it would assist in freeing the slave.” (Colored American, December 25, 1841)

Enslaved people were crucial in the construction of southern transportation networks, and surely no white southerners intended that these networks would make it easier for enslaved people to escape the South. But one of the most significant unintended consequences of transit construction in the South was the ingenious way in which enslaved Americans made use of them to escape from slavery.