Introduction

When you hear the phrase “America’s first music critics,” who springs to mind? If you’re a rock fan, maybe it’s 1960s pioneers like Lester Bangs or Robert Christgau. For jazz fans, likely contenders might include 1930s writers such as John Hammond or Ralph J. Gleason. And classical music buffs might name Olin Downes, who began at the Boston Post in the 1900s. 

But, a century earlier, American journalists dipped their goose-quill pens into pots of ink and wrote about hallelujah choruses and thundering tympani with the same enthusiasm as Ralph Gleason raving about a Johnny Hodges solo.

Indeed, between 1790 and 1840, a growing group of American journalists sought to enhance their readers’ appreciation for the new nation’s music. Among them were America’s first music critics. These advocates for change explored a shifting sonic landscape, seeking artists who were forging a new musical identity for America.

Join me as we explore a few of these journalists and their writings, delving deep into the formative days of American music criticism.

A 1790s Journalist

Before we enjoy some tasty bits of period writing, let’s look at a typical 1790s journalist and their world.

Like all Americans, this journalist was shaped by the contingencies of class, ethnicity, gender, and geography. They lived in a period when access to a career in journalism was mainly limited to white men. This journalist would likely have been from the upper or middle class, which meant a greater capacity for reading and writing than most citizens.

Because large-circulation newspapers and magazines originated in cities, our journalist likely lived and worked in an urban environment. This writer, therefore, had access to high culture, including classical music performances.

The flip side of this breeding was that this city-based journalist was likely ignorant of rural music by Black and white musicians. Although this writer may have experienced folk ballads through parlor songs, what they heard were homogenized tunes stripped of any discomforting or roughhewn qualities.  

But that refined music represented a small region within a larger soundscape. According to historian Jack Larkin:

The American practice of music, aside from the relatively sophisticated concert life of a small urban minority, was an affair of participant performers and small, informal audiences in dwellings and schoolhouses, churches and taverns, and the streets of cities, and of slave quarters. Their musical world was shaped by the oldest instruments of all, singing voices and rhythmically moving feet.[1]

Classical Music Concerts

However, even if a 1790s journalist experienced that world, the musical sounds they wrote about came from violins, cellos, and highly trained choruses – the sounds of classical music concerts.   

These concerts had not evolved into the formal occasions they would become later in the 19th century, writes Richard Crawford, author of America’s Musical Life:

Concerts in the 1700s were not necessarily high-toned formal culture events; they were more likely to be functions held in modest, often plain rooms with no stage, and with temporary arrangements of chairs that might quickly be pushed aside for dancing when the concert was over.[2]

Some concerts did take place in grand spaces such as College Hall at the University of Pennsylvania (then known as the College of Philadelphia). Journalists occasionally covered these performances, such as the uncredited writer for Poulson’s American Daily Advertiser, who wrote about a performance of sacred music at College Hall in the summer of 1790:

In vain might we attempt to express the pleasing emotions which we experienced on this delightful occasion. The most glowing language would but debase the subject … The soul, attuned to harmony, forgot for a moment its earthly fetters and soared upon the wings of melody to its kindred skies …[3]

Although the writer did not mention the title of the musical piece, it appears to have been Messiah, the famous oratorio by George Frideric Handel, featuring the well-known Hallelujah chorus.  

Joseph Dennie

Let’s compare this passage with one from 1806 also describing a sacred music concert. As you’ll see, this writer displayed a much fuller understanding of music. They described an oratorio performed in Paris, based on the Biblical theme of the “Last Judgement”:

The piece opens with a tremendous din of cymbals and trumpets announcing the destruction of the universe; a chorus of people now joined to express their terror, and the remorse inspired by their sins. At [that] moment … the noise redoubles and the crash of the gong … added to the full effect of the whole orchestra, seemed to indicate the dissolution of nature and the commencement of chaos. Suddenly, soft, melodious strains announced the coming of the Savior.[4]

This passage came from the literary magazine Port Folio. The founding editor, Joseph Dennie, wrote it. Dennie, a Harvard graduate, was known for postponing a piece of writing until its deadline loomed. Then, he rapidly penned the article as the printer waited impatiently to print it. Despite his eccentric work habits, Dennie moved in high political circles and brought in distinguished contributors such as John Quincy Adams.[5]

In publishing Port Folio, Dennie enormously popularized the American magazine. These general-interest periodicals aimed to enlighten, not entertain; describe, not critique. Articles about music were infrequent, but Dennie’s magazine brought an elevated sensibility to music writing. 

Of Correct and Delicate Taste

This can be seen in another Port Folio article. In this piece, the uncredited writer praised a recently published song:   

“Send the Bowl Round Merrily,” a new ballad, sung by Mr. Johnstone in the camp, and written by Thomas Moore, Esq., is characterized by a British reviewer of correct and delicate taste as displaying a gaiety of spirit and fancy that rivals the pathos and elegance of the more serious productions of the translator of Anacreon.[6]

Here we see the beginnings of music reviewing by American journalists. By endorsing the “delicate taste” of the British reviewer, the Port Folio contributor validated the idea that popular songs deserved attention alongside classical music.   

Journalists also reviewed song performances. Here’s a humorous example from the Washington Gazette:  

Mrs. Hayes’s voice is both powerful and pleasing, but by a little more government of it her style of singing would be considerably improved. Perhaps the limits of a room suggested this regulation necessary, which would not be obvious in a theater where a larger space is to be filled.[7]

However, wrote the Gazette writer,

The warbling of Mrs. Gray in the song “Go Tuneful Bird” was listened to with great delight. Her simplicity of manner, added to a very sweet and harmonious voice and correct execution, was well received by all who delight in the pleasurable sensations which superior vocal talent never fails to excite.[8]

“Go Tuneful Bird” originated as an English poem and was set to music in the early 1800s, gaining popularity on stages. The Gazette reviewer highlighted both the positive and negative aspects of the performance, adding a touch of wit. 

A. P. Heinrich

Although Americans enjoyed British songs like “Go Tuneful Bird” and “Send the Bowl Round Merrily,” the rise of the Romantic Era fostered a yearning for a national music that reflected America’s musical identity. 

Certain journalists felt this longing too. Which is why they began publishing stories about Anthony Philip (A. P.) Heinrich. The Bohemian-born immigrant became America’s first full-time classical composer after moving to Boston in 1810, following the loss of his fortune during the Napoleonic Wars. He became a professional violinist and conductor.

A transformative journey through the forests of Pennsylvania to Kentucky inspired Heinrich to compose a collection of symphonic program music pieces titled The Dawning of Music in Kentucky. Settling in Bardstown, Kentucky, in 1818, he created original works and conducted the second performance of Beethoven’s First Symphony in the U.S.

A handful of American periodicals supported Heinrich in his quest for recognition by publishing his writings. For instance, the Washington Express printed a self-promotion written by Heinrich in 1819, written in the third person. In it, he announced his “firstling compositions,” the Kentucky works:

AP Heinrich … proposes to the friends of the art, to publish by subscription the effusions of his leisure hours, his firstling compositions …

As the proposer has been chiefly inspired by the muses of Kentucky, he would feel particularly gratified to find sufficient patronage here to exhibit to the public at large the strains of the Backwoods …

The work will contain from fifty to eighty sheets of music paper, to be well executed and delivered to subscribers in one or two volumes.

Louisville, Ken Jan. 5[9]

Excite the Emulation of Genius

Heinrich’s promotions paid off, and he won the support of America’s first music magazine, The Euterpeiad, or Musical Intelligencer. Its subtitle clarified the magazine’s content to readers who might not have known that Euterpe was the Greek Muse of music and lyric poetry.

The weekly originated from the creative mind of Boston music enthusiast Thomas Badger. He printed the first issue on April Fool’s Day, 1820. But the Euterpeiad was no jest – it provided the first in-print forum on the nation’s music.  

Badger announced the magazine’s objectives in its first issue:

… cherish a classical taste … watch the progress of the art … excite the emulation of genius … examine and impartially review new musical works … furnish biographical memoirs of musical men … insert miscellaneous articles wherein will be noticed observations upon musical performances …[10]

Editor John Rowe Parker carried out Badger’s mission. The 43-year-old non-professional musician became one of America’s first self-designated music critics.

John Rowe Parker

Parker admired one composer in particular, according to music historian Richard Crawford:

To John Rowe Parker … Beethoven symbolized not just artistic greatness, but a nonconforming, exploratory approach to composing … Parker called Beethoven symphonies “romances of the wildest invention,” adding that his genius seems to anticipate a future age.[11]

Thus, Parker championed radical innovation. Future music critics would carry this banner forward.

Crawford noted that Parker knew that Beethoven’s novel and complex music presented challenges:    

… the danger even for the experienced player to trust to the forebodings of the ear, the necessity of the eye being forever on the watch, and the impossibility of executing many of his works at sight … For Parker, then, Beethoven was a genius whose music could be unpredictable, even sometimes overloaded. And here is where he found parallels with [A.P.] Heinrich.”[12]

Yes, Parker was a diehard Heinrich fan.

The Beethoven of America

In April 1822, Parker wrote a deeply moving article about Heinrich and his symphony, The Dawning of Music in Kentucky. The piece arguably established itself as one of the first works of American music criticism.

Heinrich subtitled his symphony The Pleasures of Harmony in the Solitudes of Nature. In doing so, he expressed how American Romanticists regarded nature as a source of inspiration, spiritual connection, and refuge. This notion foreshadowed the coming Transcendentalist movement and the sixties counterculture it inspired. 

Parker’s article highlighted the challenges Henrich’s music presented. Instead of analyzing the musical traits of Henrich’s symphony, Parker focused on the barriers the composer faced in gaining acceptance within the broader musical community.

In fact, Parker admitted to being reluctant to recommend the symphony because “the fantastical drapery of this work, and not a few difficulties in which it is entrenched, furnished no tempting invitation for a practical perusal.”[13]

Despite this reluctance, though, Parker overflowed with praise for the piece:

… whoever has the will and ability to overstep the fences and unveil the hidden treasure will be no less surprised and delighted with his discovery … the vigor of thought, variety of ideas, originality of conception, classical correctness, boldness, and luxuriousness of imagination displayed throughout this voluminous work …

There is versatility for the capricious, pomp for the pedant, playfulness for the amateur, learning for the scholar, business for the performer, pleasure for the vocalist, ingenuity for the curious, and puzzle for an academician. … [Heinrich] may therefore justly be styled the Beethoven of America …[14]

All the Wildness of Native Grandeur

Despite the hyperbole, Parker’s article deserves attention as one of the first to validate an American composer. In addition to advancing America’s musical identity, Parker’s writings marked an evolution in music coverage. Readers would now expect articles about music to reflect deeper knowledge about the subject and to evoke emotions as well as ideas.     

Under Parker’s leadership, the Euterpeiad met these expectations. The four-page magazine published articles that not only illuminated musical works but also explored their broader social contexts. This can be seen in an article published the following year, in 1823.

In it, an uncredited writer – likely Parker – wrote a remarkable article about the battle between aesthetics and financial survival at the heart of A. P. Heinrich’s story: 

There was … so much eccentricity mixed with the real merit of his compositions, so much of that somber cast which betrays a protracted struggle with the evils of life and a spirit wounded past all cure by the tragic loss of a beloved friend, so much more of the comet than of a regular planet, and so much laborious execution at the onset, that his voluminous works, shunned by amateurs on account of their forbidding aspect and difficulty of access, and disdained by professors for their very originality, breaking forth in all the wildness of native grandeur, have remained a mere burthen [burden] on the shelves of music sellers in the sister cities, where they ought to have been better known and appreciated.[15]

Modern Music

This passage highlighted the importance of musical innovation during the Romantic Era. These sonic inventions marked the first stirrings of modernism in American music. Forward-thinking music journalists championed these changes. 

But radical change always meets social resistance. The advances by Romantic composers stirred a debate between modernists and traditionalists in the pages of the Euterpeiad. An 1820 opinion piece titled “Modern Music” defended musical innovation:  

In this enlightened age, in this epoch of novelty and invention, while the arts are attaining a perfection hitherto unknown, it is curious to see with what tenacity the advocates of ancient music adhere to their old notions and favorite masters. They set up the works of Handel and Corelli as the models of excellence, and scruple not to speak of the music of the present day in terms of contempt and disgust.[16]

The forward-thinking writer continued:

By what pretensions these partisans [for tradition] arrogate to themselves the standard of perfection, I know not; but they remind us of the Spartans who cut off the four strings from the lyre of Timotheus.

[Traditionalists] would dictate their own ideals of taste and prescribe the Boundaries of science. But when philosophers and lecturing musicians add weight to those opinions by entering their denunciations against a system they obviously don’t understand, I think it is only necessary to point out some of the excellencies of modern music to prove its superiority, and the want of feeling in its opponents.

Music, like all other arts, is progressive …[17]

The debate between modernists and traditionalists goes on to this day.  

The Art of Combining Sounds

In addition to championing musical innovation, the Euterpeiad nurtured the Boston music scene. Yes, when we think of music magazines contributing to their hometown scenes, it’s the late 20th century that comes to mind. No one doubts the influence of Rolling Stone on the San Francisco psychedelic rock scene, or the impact of New York Rocker on the city’s new wave milieu.

But a century-and-a-half earlier, periodicals such as the Euterpeiad nurtured the nation’s first classical music communities. Published in Boston, the Euterpeiad regularly covered musical events and institutions in and around the city. This helped Boston build its identity as a music center.

This can be seen in the magazine’s review of Messiah at Harvard’s Boylston Hall:  

… The art of combining sounds is fast approaching to perfection, and the first attempt to perform the Messiah in this metropolis may be said to have commenced an era as honourable to the art as it is memorable in the annals of music.

… No works have been more the subject of caprice and prejudice amongst musical critics and pretended amateurs than the compositions of Handel, which … have had to encounter the total and undistinguished contempt of the admirers of more modern music.[18]

After this dig at modernists, the writer demonstrated their musical vocabulary:

The performance of this oratorio last evening (Good Friday) was appropriate and seasonable. The recitatives, solos, and choruses were brilliant and effective. Many of the fugues are replete with intricacies of harmony, closing with simple counterpoint. …[19]

For this writer, the Boston debut of Handel’s masterwork marked a new “era” in the city’s musical life.

Cultivators of Musical Trash

However, the Euterpeiad’s critics also delivered negative reviews of Boston music. This can be seen in a passage from an 1820 review of a 250-person choir drawn from Boston’s “singing societies,”

The whole number of pieces was accompanied by the organ, which, being much out of tune, rather impaired the general effect of this psalmodic exhibition … Our ears were assailed with females singing thirds and fifths above the melody … This custom ought to be abolished, being inconsistent with the true principles of choral harmony. [20]

Another article took fire at church hymns:

Until very lately, the musical compositions introduced into our worshipping assemblies were such as are altogether beneath criticism, and the prevailing style of performance was quite deficient in solemnity, dignity, and decency. Among the cultivators of this musical trash, it is difficult to say which had been the most illiterate, the composers or the itinerant instructors.[21]

But, they added a hopeful note:

A few congregations in some of the most populous towns and villages of New England were rescued from the prevailing degeneracy. The style of music that they adopted was comparatively excellent … [22]

But the reviewer concluded by criticizing a popular collection of hymns. They wrote that the songs were not “harmonized on modern principles of correctness,” which led to “false relations” and “forbidden successions.”[23] The critic didn’t elaborate on what those successions were, or why they were taboo.  

Are We Alive to Refined music?

Another Euterpeiad music critic expressed concern about a lack of patronage at Boston concerts:  

That the inhabitants of this metropolis having obtained a degree of reputation for being musical, to which in fact we have some pretensions, must be generally allowed. For our native performances, we profess and feel the most sincere attachment. But is there not some reason to doubt whether we are alive to refined music?

The writer lamented “the display of empty benches on almost every occasion of an intended concert.”[24] They blamed the problem on a lack of music appreciation but noted an exception:  

Regular concerts have never succeeded well in this metropolis, and although there exists other causes of failure beside the want of knowledge of music, this last is clearly the reason why patronage is so sparingly bestowed upon.  

That the inhabitants of this metropolis are not insensitive to music of the highest class is evident from the numerous attendance at the performances of an institution for the improvement of sacred music.[25]

But then, shifting gears, the writer left Boston behind and took off on an inspired flight of prose about the beauty of expressivity in music:

… that melody which melts into tenderness, fires with animation, and enraptures by its powerful strains, aims at a higher character than that of difficult or rapid execution, the imitations of those tones and movements which are most intimately connected with the passions and afflictions of the soul which exhilarate the spirits, excite, arouse, and animate, that induce a bewitching melancholy, or diffuse a pleasing serenity over the mind, which charms by displaying something like the power of persuasive eloquence without words, holding a kind of conversation without ideas, and exerting whatever disposition the artist pleases without suggesting a motive …[26]

The phrase “a conversation without ideas” beautifully captured the new Romantic spirit animating musicians and music critics.   

The Jerk of a Short Note

In addition to classical music, the Euterpeiad reviewed parlor songs, the “pop music” of the time. For example, a writer reviewed the newly released seventh volume of Thomas Moore’s book series, Irish Melodies.

This reviewer focused on the musicological aspects of the tunes, noting the melodies’ relationships with the lyrics. Each song was reviewed individually. In the review of “In the Morning of Life,” the writer noted its Celtic traits:

This air is of a cheerful and pleasing cast with a termination in the Scottish style. The jerk of a short note before a comparatively long one seems common both to Scottish and Irish melodies.[27]

On the other hand, “The Winnowing Sheet” was a “characteristic but rather monotonous melody.”[28]

Song reviews like this foreshadowed the ethnomusicological texts of the 20^th century. These reviewers discussed nuances in the musical styles of different ethnic groups, thus documenting the European roots of American music. 

But how about its African roots?

The Music of Working-Class and Black Americans

Despite advances in music journalism from the 1790s through the 1820s, journalists largely ignored the music of working-class and enslaved Americans. But that began to change in the late 1820s.  

Working-class white Americans engaged in music at informal gatherings, such as dances and religious services. They often used homemade or limited instruments. Everyday activities included playing fiddle tunes and singing hymns in church. This music was rooted in the traditions of the British Isles. It was mainly an oral tradition, passed down through generations, and varied by region due to limited communication.

Black Americans heard this music and blended it with a diverse array of African traditions. In slave quarters, cotton fields, and churches, African Americans expressed their joys and miseries in music. Combining African and European styles, Black Americans created new types of participative music, wrote Larkin:

Where white Americans usually performed ballads or parlor songs solo before silent audiences, slaves created group songs in which all participated, responding antiphonically to the leader’s call … Black singers were also far freer… improvising a song or adding wholly new verses to a familiar one on the spot.[29]  

This freedom riled some Southern journalists:

But by the 1820s, a growing number of Northern journalists wrote appreciatively of Black musicians. The first African American music covered by journalists was performed by free Black musicians in the North. Beginning with Pennsylvania in 1780, all Northern states had abolished slavery by 1804, significantly increasing the number of free Blacks. By the 1820s, Black musicians and venue owners provided music for African American audiences in cities with Black communities.    

The African Grecian Ball

One of these cities was West Chester, Pennsylvania, which served as a key center of the abolition movement and a crucial hub of the Underground Railroad. Thus, it’s not surprising that the West Chester Record published one of the nation’s first appreciative accounts of African American music:

There has been a splendid Greek Ball among the colored people in New York City … A line of carriages – horses’ heads towards the center market – were seen on Orange Street … It was discovered that they were waiting for the ladies and gentlemen of color who were attending the African Grecian Ball … [Inside], The room was tastefully festooned with evergreens and hung round with the banners of the manumission and other benevolent societies. Upwards of 600 ladies and gentlemen of color were present, dancing quadrilles to an excellent colored band of musicians. The ladies were tastefully but somewhat extravagantly dressed.

Ostrich feathers, pearl ornaments, and spangled pantalets [were] the prevailing fashion. Waiters in livery were still handing out sandwiches, Regent’s punch, and pickled oysters. And it was not until after six in the morning that the carriages moved and the company dispersed in good order and with perfect tranquility.[30]

Using a wealth of telling details, this uncredited writer evoked the grandeur of the event. They boldly demonstrated that free Black Americans had sophisticated tastes.

The Death of Porter Tidd

As African Americans gained freedom in Northern states, they also gained access to higher education, including opportunities for musical training. This allowed talented Black musicians to form bands and perform for both Black and white audiences. Their music enriched the American soundscape, appreciated by open-minded white journalists and readers.

For example, this announcement in Maine’s Eastern Argus newspaper paid respect to a  Black band leader:

The death of Porter Tidd, a colored musician, was mentioned in the papers of the city last week. Tidd was extensively known among the votaries [followers] of pleasure in this vicinity, where he had officiated as the leader of a cotillion band for 20 years or more. It is a remarkable fact, and one worthy of record, that for two hours previous to his death, he amused himself by calling the figures of several cotillions.[31]

The cotillion emerged as a popular social dance in 18th-century Europe and North America. Dancers performed it in groups of four couples arranged in a square formation. This dance refined the English country dance and paved the way for both the quadrille and the square dance in the United States.

Francis Johnson

One of the popularizers of cotillion music, Francis “Frank” Johnson, established himself as a pioneering bandleader.

He became the first Black American to publish sheet music, making significant contributions to the music world, and published the book A Collection of New Cotillions in 1818. Johnson introduced the promenade concert style to America, in which participants strolled freely outdoors as a band played lively waltzes, quadrilles, and various dance tunes.

As Johnson’s reputation grew, the Philadelphia Inquirer followed his career. In 1837, an Inquirer writer penned an article in support of Johnson’s upcoming European tour:

Francis Johnson, the well-known leader of a band of colored musicians, is about to visit Europe for his own improvement and that of his company … His gay patrons, who have often danced and waltzed to self-taught credible strains, would, we suppose, be disposed to aid the veteran on the occasion. Few individuals have been better known and more in demand here for many years than he has, and if favorable notoriety will be serviceable to him in the matter, he has it in abundance.[32]

Articles like this from Northern newspapers recognized Black musicians’ essential contributions to American music. The Inquirer profile of Johnson shows how an uncredited journalist nurtured cultural democracy, paving the way for future generations.

Our exploration of American music journalism from 1790 to 1840 concludes on this inspiring note.

Conclusion

Although the anonymous Inquirer writer was privileged, they used that position to support a marginalized musician. Among the achievements of journalists writing about music from 1790 to 1840, the most significant was their support for emergent outsider musicians, from Heinrich to Johnson.

From the ranks of those writers emerged the country’s first music journalists. Their descriptive and critical writings, created with quill pens in candlelit rooms, played a significant role in shaping readers’ musical tastes. By studying these texts, we greatly enhance our understanding of the origins of American music journalism.

Notes

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[1] Jack Larkin. The Reshaping of Everyday Life: 1790-1840 (Harper Perennial: 1989): 232.

[2] Richard Crawford. America’s Musical Life: A History (W. W. Norton: 2001): 85.

[3] Uncredited. “Grand Concert of Sacred Music,” Poulson’s American Daily Advertiser, July 17, 1790: 3.

[4] Viator. “Sacred Music,” Port Folio, Jan. 25, 1806: 41-42. 

[5] John Tebbell. The American Magazine: A Compact History (Hawthorne Books: 1969): 16.

[6] Uncredited. “New Music,” Port Folio, Feb. 8, 1806: 75. 

[7] Uncredited. “Communicated,” Washington Gazette, April 7, 1819: 3.

[8] Uncredited. “Communicated,” Washington Gazette, April 7, 1819: 3.

[9] A. P. Heinrich. “A. P. Heinrich,” Washington Express, May 12, 1819: 4.

[10] Thomas Badger. “Prospectus of the Euterpeiad or, Musical Intelligencer,” Euterpeiad or, Musical Intelligencer, April 1, 1820: 1.

[11] Richard Crawford. America’s Musical Life: A History (W. W. Norton: 2001): 319.

[12] Richard Crawford. America’s Musical Life: A History (W. W. Norton: 2001): 319.

[13] A. P. Heinrich. “The Dawning of Music in Kentucky,” Euterpeiad or, Musical Intelligencer, April 13, 1822: 15-16

[14] A. P. Heinrich. “The Dawning of Music in Kentucky,” Euterpeiad or, Musical Intelligencer, April 13, 1822: 15-16

[15] Uncredited. “A. P. Heinrich,” Euterpeiad or, Musical Intelligencer, Feb. 2, 1823: 179.

[16] Uncredited. “Modern Music,” Euterpeiad or, Musical Intelligencer, April 15, 1820: 10.

[17] Uncredited. “Modern Music,” Euterpeiad or, Musical Intelligencer, April 15, 1820: 10.

[18] Uncredited. “The Fourth Oratorio. Boylston Hall: The Messiah,” Euterpeiad or, Musical Intelligencer, April 1, 1820: 3.

[19] Uncredited. “The Fourth Oratorio. Boylston Hall: The Messiah,” Euterpeiad or, Musical Intelligencer, April 1, 1820: 3.

[20] Uncredited. “Performance of Sacred Music,” Euterpeiad or, Musical Intelligencer, April 15, 1820: 11.

[21] Uncredited. “Criticism,” Euterpeiad or, Musical Intelligencer, July 29, 1820: 70.

[22] Uncredited. “Criticism,” Euterpeiad or, Musical Intelligencer, July 29, 1820: 70.

[23] Uncredited. “Criticism,” Euterpeiad or, Musical Intelligencer, July 29, 1820: 70.

[24] Uncredited. “Regular Concerts,” Euterpeiad or, Musical Intelligencer, May 20, 1820: 31.

[25] Uncredited. “Regular Concerts,” Euterpeiad or, Musical Intelligencer, May 20, 1820: 31.

[26] Uncredited. “Regular Concerts,” Euterpeiad or, Musical Intelligencer, May 20, 1820: 31.

[27] Uncredited. “Review of the Seventh Number of Moore’s Irish Melodies,” Euterpeiad or, Musical Intelligencer, July 15, 1820: 63.

[28] Uncredited. “Review of the Seventh Number of Moore’s Irish Melodies,” Euterpeiad or, Musical Intelligencer, July 15, 1820: 63.

[29] Jack Larkin. The Reshaping of Everyday Life: 1790-1840 (Harper Perennial: 1989): 245.

[30] Uncredited. Untitled. West Chester Record, March 21, 1827: 3.

[31] Untitled. “The Ruling Passion Strong in Death,” Eastern Argus, Dec. 9, 1833: 2.

[32] Uncredited. Untitled, Philadelphia Inquirer, Aug. 24, 1837: 2.