Two emergency burials?

by Jean Craig

In the course of transcribing lists of names and dates to expand their usefulness locally and throughout the world of research, aspects recorded in otherwise repetitive information wakes up curiosity, and these details evoke yet other questions. 

From volume 4 of the Burial Records of the Second Presbyterian Church, p. 48: February 20th, 1819 records the burial of “a child of a stranger at the furlgate in the Old York Road.”  Wikipedia says that the Old York Road was built in the 18th century to connect Philadelphia and New York City.  Its beginning (or one end) was at 4th and Vine, not far from Second Presbyterian Church, or from a fair number of other Philadelphia churches.  What was the connection to this church? 

What was a furlgate?  The Internet pointed to the English word falgate, derived from the Middle English “fold gate”; this was an entryway to an enclosure, possibly for cattle or sheep. Were the people drovers who made the request for burial?  The word came to mean an inn-yard.  Various inns of England have the name Falgate; were the people in Pennsylvania traveling by the Swift Sure Stage Coach Line which covered the York Road route and perhaps had stopped somewhere still known as the falgate to deal with a four-year old child in distress? 

The time of year would have meant penetrating cold and precipitation.  Were the travelers near enough to Philadelphia to hope they’d arrive soon enough to get help for the child?    Whoever sought burial for the child had to come up with $8 for the cost of interment.   

 From Vol.6, p. 8 of the same church’s Burial Records for 1837-1850:  Burial entry 590 for October 28, 1845, records the death of Susan Jackson Bancroft, daughter of the Secretary of the Navy.  He was George Bancroft, a wonderfully energetic and broad-minded man who took full advantage of every opportunity given him for education and making a social contribution.  He was appointed Secretary to the Navy by President James K. Polk.  His appointment was political, and his time in office was brief, but long enough for him to establish the U.S. Naval Academy at Annapolis to provide structured learning for midshipmen awaiting assignment to ships. Little Susan was 6 years old, from Bancroft’s second marriage to a Bostonian, Elizabeth Davis Bliss; Susan’s middle name was for Andrew Jackson; her father was a staunch Democrat.

By this time, but before the coming of medical examiners, churches were recording causes of death where possible.  The church record states that Susan Bancroft died of “marasmus,” usually interpreted as starvation, this unbelievable given the Bancrofts’ prosperity and sophistication.  Susan may have been a fragile child, and her cause of death “failure to thrive” because of her body’s inability to assimilate certain proteins.   Again, why this church?  Bancroft then worked in Washington, D.C. Was the couple or family traveling or visiting here when their child descended into her final illness?   Her remains were placed in the vault of the Leiper family, in the Arch St. burial ground, for no charge.   In vol. 6 p. 14 [addenda], ten years later, on Oct. 22, 1856, during the great migration to what were then roomier suburban cemeteries outside of city limits, Order no. 708 requests the removal of her remains from that vault, to go to South Laurel Hill Cemetery, but her name is not on the records there.  The Bancrofts were New Englanders.  George was born and buried in Worcester, Mass.  Might she have been taken there? 

Shape-note music

Contributed by Jean Craig

When we choose a new set of documents or a ledger to transcribe, interesting material can appear in the pages outside of the formal texts or lists.  Sometimes there are sketches, short jottings, loose material inserted, or other writings that the contemporary person did not want to let slip away. Our mandate is to try and describe these addenda as carefully as we can, as what we supply may add important social or historical context and be of help to a researcher. And, sometimes, these addenda prove intriguing and fun.

One such find — historical, cultural, and intriguing — was on an endpaper at the close of the first volume of Burial Records for the Second Presbyterian Church, with records dating from 1785 to 1808.  On a page with a final few entries and other jottings, I saw what appeared to be a design of some sort running down the outside edge of the paper.  Upon rotating the image, the “design” proved to be a hymn written on an extended staff as shape-note music. 

Running down the right margin of this page [76]: the word Condolance [sic] written at the very edge of the page; below it is a hymn written as shape-note music; the first verse is written below the staff and reads:

Kind is the speech of Christ our Lord.
Affection sounds in every word
Lo thou art fair my love he cries
Not the young doves have sweeter eyes

Shape note music was a notation created in England in the late 18th century to allow people with little to no musical training to sing in churches or at social gatherings. The different shapes helped in finding pitches in major or minor scales, and became very popular in early America, especially in rural areas. Contemporaries sometimes called the shaped notes “dunce” notes, but they were easy to learn and made people without access to music lessons or money for musical instruments able to participate in singing. In this case, one of the church officials, perhaps the sexton or one of his helpers, appreciated this hymn enough to set it down and have it available, and shape notes allowed that to happen.

An internet search of the first line of this hymn went to, which gives the title of the hymn as The Completeness of Christ, and its author as Rev. Isaac Watts (1674-1748). also includes a chart showing the popularity of the hymn over time, and refers to a set of volumes Watts published around 1707, entitled Hymns and Spiritual Songs, a later edition of which has been published online by Project Gutenberg. In this edition, the title of the song is given as “The church’s beauty in the eyes of Christ.”

Second Presbyterian’s Session Minutes, vol. 1, 1744-1798, pp. 40-42, mention Watts’ paraphrases of the Psalms, because they caused a commotion when they were suddenly introduced to the congregation in that year. This was not because the music was inferior, but because conservative members wanted what they were used to, and had not been given enough notice of the change, even a change that had been OK’d by the Synod.  The church held a special meeting of the congregation with a vote to settle the matter; Watt’s work won the day.  The conservatives in the congregation wanted to mount an appeal to the Session, which was granted, but the Session notes don’t record any further action. Rev. Watts’s hymns were enormously popular in the 18th century and beyond. Congregations still sing some of them nowadays.