When The Saints Are Marching In - Katherine Purvis & James Black

 
On June 15 2006, the Songwriters Hall of Fame presented the Towering Song Award, to honor "outstanding songs by writers who may not have an extensive catalog of hit and who have not been inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame", to Catherine E. Purvis, and James M. Black, both of Williamsport, for "When The Saints Go Marching In."

Unfortunately, Purvis and Black did not actually write When The Saints Go Marching In.  They wrote a completely different song, When The Saints Are Marching In. 

Just one word is different in the title, but the words and tune are not nearly as similar.

Hear When The Saints Are Marching In, by Black and Purvis, on YouTube

Purvis and Black were both well known musicians in Williamsport.  Black is best known for writing When The Roll Is Called Up Yonder.'

James Milton Black was born in Sullivan County NY in 1856, the son of Nathan  & Anna Black.  He moved to Williamsport about 1881, where he lived with his brother at 5 Market Street.  A trained musician, he traveled throughout northern Pennsylvania and Southern New York conducting Singing Schools.

In 1893 James Black was an active member at Mulberry Street Methodist Episcopal Church, and the president of its Epworth League. One evening he befriended a poorly dressed girl who lived “down on Front Street, along the river” and invited her to the meetings. When she hesitated to attend because of her shabby clothes, Black later saw to it that she received something decent to wear. She became an Epworth League regular, but one evening she was not there to answer the roll call. Upon checking, Black found that she was very sick with typhoid fever and had little hope of recovery. Her death came quickly, and the fact that she would never again answer to her name at the Mulberry Street roll call preyed on the mind of James Black. He sat down at his piano, and the words and music came to him just as they are now.

 The above account is from Charles Berkheimer, former Pastor of the Market Street Episcopal Church in Williamsport from 1926-1930. 

"Because of the sad circumstances involved, and his own private personality, Black never gave a definitive public account of the story. In fact Black was so reluctant to command the spotlight that the

work was originally copyrighted by a friend, the noted gospel songwriter Charles Gabriel – and while the music was credited to James M. Black, the author of the words was listed only as B.M.J (Black’s initials in reverse order)! It was only after the song became such a success that The Grit newspaper of Williamsport pieced together enough information to identify the author and reveal the story behind the words. " - Contributions of Williamsport Pa To American Gospel Music by Milton Loyer, 2004.

Katherine E. Nash graduated from Dickinson Seminary in 1860, married  Isaac Purvis.  By 1875, Katherine was a widow with 3 small children.   An accomplished musician, she taught music at Dickinson Seminary in Williamsport from 1884-1888.  She was also a member of the Mulberry Street Methodist Church.  Soon her and Black worked together on several songs.

"Between 1894 and 1917, James Black edited 11 gospel song books. Those books include eleven song texts by Katharine E. Purvis – ten with music by Black  and one with music by another Williamsport musician, Charles F. Green. Mrs. Purvis is also the author of at least one additional text found in other songbooks – with music by Lanta Wilson Smith, best known as the author of the text This, Too, Shall Pass Away. "  - Kate Purvis by Milton Loyer, 2010

Purvis wrote a sonnet titled Lycoming, for the 1895 Centennial Celebration of Lycoming County.

In 1904 Black transferred his membership to the Pine Street Methodist Church.  The following year, he was one of 11 members of the Methodist Episcopal Church appointed to the joint commission for the production of the denominations 1905 hymnal.  This publication, with music for each hymnal, responsive readings, and rituals for various occasions, is considered to be one of the first modern church hymnals.

Katharine E. Purvis died October 23, 1907. Her obituary read: 

 Mrs. Katharine E. Purvis died at her home on Market Street, Wednesday morning. She was widely known as a hymn writer, and won more than passing reputation by the words of the hymn “Abide With Me,” arranged to music by Professor James M. Black. Mrs. Purvis was an earnest worker in the Mulberry Street Methodist Church. She had been an invalid for some time, but her condition was not regarded as serious until about three weeks ago. She was 66 years of age, and was the daughter of a Methodist minister in the Wyoming Conference. She was educated in Williamsport Dickinson Seminary, and taught music at the institution for a number of years. She was a sister of the late Charles Nash, a prominent accountant in this city, and of Miss Frances Nash, formerly of the Williamsport High School faculty, and one of the most accomplished and popular teachers ever in service in Williamsport. Funeral Services were conducted at the house, Friday afternoon, by the Rev. Oliver S. Metzler. Interment was made in Wildwood cemetery.

This time the title is identical to another well known hymn, but again, they are very different songs - this is not the the well-known "Abide With Me," whose words and music were penned by Henry F. Lyte by W.H. Monk.

James M. Black died on December 21 1938. He is buried at Wildwood Cemetery.

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READ MORE

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Loyer, Milton W. James M. Black and Friends: Contributions of Williamsport PA to American Gospel Music. Privately published, 2004.

Johnny Cash Singing When The Roll Is Called Up Yonder

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The Official report of the proceedings of the Centennial Anniversary of Lycoming County Pa, page 134, tells us that "To Katherine E. Purvis of Williamsport had been assigned the duty of writing a centennial sonnet, which was recited by Miss Augusta Helen Gilmore.  The sonnet, a beautiful and appropriate conception, is as follows:"

LYCOMING. 

Beneath  the  arching  summer  skies 

Whose  mellow,  golden  glow 

Illumed  her  lowly  cabin  homes 

A  hundred  years  ago, 

Lycoming  stands  in  queenly  state 

And  fondly,  sweetly  calls 

Her  absent  children   back   again 

To  their  ancestral  halls. 

Her  lovely  features,  wreathed  in  smiles, 

Bear  not  a  trace  of  care, 

Nor  have  her  early  hardships  left 

The  faintest  impress  there. 

She  looks  upon  the  garnered  wealth 

Of  many  happy  years, 

The  countless  sheaves  of  ripened  grain 

Which   once  she  sowed   in   tears, 

And  points  with  pride  to  heirlooms  rare 

To  relics  quaint  and  old 

Of  ruder  times  and  simpler  tastes 

Before  this  age  of  gold. 

The  children  hear  their  mother's  call. 

From  east  and  west  and  north 

They  come,  in  loving  haste,  to  pay 

Their  tribute  to  her  worth. 

And  while  the  hills  and  valleys  ring 

With  songs  of  praise,  they  rear 

An  altar  to  commemorate 

Her  first  centennial  year. 

Oh,  happy  day  with  memories 

Of  richest  blessing  fraught, 

And  filled  with  tokens  of  the  change 

A  century  has  wrought. 

With  visions  grand  and  beautiful 

Of  cycles  yet  to  be, 

When  progress  shall  go  hand  in  hand 

With  world  wide  liberty. 

Thrice  welcome  all  who  come  to  share 

The  mother's  sacred  joy, 

And  claim  her  children's  heritage 

Of  peace  without  alloy. 

And  whether  they  who  bought  that  peace 

Sleep  on  our  holy  hill 

Or  rest  in  distant  unknown  graves, 

They  are  our  heroes  still. 

And  long  as  yonder  stately  shaft 

Reflects  the  light  of  heaven, 

To   heroes   living— heroes   dead 

All  honor  shall  be  given. 

— Katharine  E.  Purvis. 

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More about the 2006 Songwriters Hall Of Fame Awards

1899

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Fannie Nash, sister of Katherine Purvis, was also a talented writer:

ECHOES FROM AN OLD HARP

 by Fannie S. Nash, class 1865

There’s a wild, weird song in my heart tonight

 As I wander through the wild-wood;

‘Tis a song and a sigh for the old moonlight

Which danced on the floor of the cottage bright,

 Where I spend my happy childhood.

The echoes come back from that joy-lit hearth

 And thrill one with wonder unspoken;

They speak of those hours of pleasure and mirth –

Sweet seasons which mingle a heaven with earth,

 And idols now shattered and broken

How the years have gone like the ocean’s tide!

 Bearing onward with its surges

The dreams of my youth and my fond heart’s pride

While memories sweet, for those who have died,

 Are chanting their solemn dirges!

Old age, with its winters, has silvered my hair

 And stolen from life its sweetness;

My forehead is furrowed by sorrow and care –

Life’s burdens are many and harder to bear –

 And my foot has lost its fleetness.

I have to think, as the days go by,

 Each bearing me nearer death’s pillow –

Of the beautiful home in yonder sky,

Where my heart will be anchored by and by,

 When I’ve passed over Jordan’s billows.

How often I seem to stand so near

 That I catch a glimpse of its portals;

While I listen, with almost hallowed fear,

To the song of praise that’s borne to my ear,

 From its throng of high immortals. 

I see in the distance the myst’ry unfold

 Which around that city lingers

While voices are chanting the “Story of Old,”

And I almost hear the harps of gold

 As they’re touched by angel fingers.

The harp of my life, with its time-worn strings,

 Has lost all its notes of gladness;

No beautiful chord of pleasure it sings –

No sweet songs of rest to my heart it brings –

 And its chords have a touch of sadness.

But its sweetness will all come back some day –

 With melody soft it will quiver;

It will soothe my soul in life’s twilight gray;

Its murmur will mix with the drops of spray,

 As I enter the silver river.

And when I shall stand on the other shore

 And bathe in the noon-tide vernal,

As the song of the ransomed comes floating o’er,

My harp shall re-echo with music once more,

 And join in the chorus eternal.

"The March 1885 Dickinson Liberal reports the following:

 Miss Fannie Nash, widely and favorably known throughout our city, has for many

years been a teacher in the High School. It is said that she intends to resign her position;

for what we know not, but we do know that for some time she has been wearing a slender

diamond ring on her first finger. She is active in the church and Sunday school, and was

a member of the choir. She sings, plays the guitar and piano, paints and writes poetry.

So many blessings seldom fall to the lot of one man. 

The February 1889 Dickinson Liberal reports Fannie’s death as follows:

 When a life like that of Miss Fannie Nash closes, no human words seem a fitting

memorial. Her place in the church was that of a faithful Daughter of the King; in the

home, patient, lovely and beloved, whose very presence “seemed the sweet incense and

womanly atmosphere of home,” who, wheresoever she put her hand, turned her

surroundings into beauty by the magic of her presence. Her chosen life-work, that of

teaching the young, was no mean or servile task to her mind, but was rendered high,

noble and dignified by the graces of her mind and heart. A woman, beloved and

esteemed by all, has spread her wings to enter a larger, better life, yet the impress of her

character remains deeply stamped upon the many people, young and old, whose lives

touched hers.

 Cultivated and gifted she lived for others, “and deeds of week-day holiness fall from

her, noiseless as snow. She has drawn herself from us for a little while, but the inspiration her life has given to the young is a more lasting monument than the massive granite.  Dickinson Seminary has a great reason to be proud that such a woman was among her Alumni. "

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