|
No. 62 September 2006
The authoritative source
on
early churches in New Jersey
ISSN
1543-3250
About
this site
We've
created a database and photographic inventory containing more than
a thousand of the 18th & 19th century churches in the state
and add to it each month. We solicit all contributions and suggestions
from visitors.
find
a church
index
to the articles
— Highlights —
Last
month's feature
William Halsey Wood
Book
reviews
Churches of Minnesota
Can
you identify this church?

Trenton
- Living Word Church
Vintage
photo of the month

South River Methodist
Endangered
churches
A dozen at-risk buildings are noted. Submit your nomination for the most
endangered churches in the state. We will research the submissions
and feature a church now and then, and keep people informed of the status
of the building.
Annotate
this article
Do have additional information about any of the buildings in this article?
Or perhaps an old photograph or an article that can enrich our knowledge?
Please submit that information for the benefit of other visitors. How
to use this site
Suggest a church for inclusion
Glossary
List of churches, by county
Photographic notes
Links to related sites
Contact us
|
Feature
of the month
the
social significance of the port cochere
In
the later decades of the nineteenth century, large homes and villas began
to sport an appendage, usually visible from the approach, that allowed
residents and visitors to drive a carriage into and through an open porch.
The purpose was, ostensibly, to keep guests from getting wet in rainy weather,
but we suspect the reality is something a little crasser—a means
of showing that your taste and financial resources were probably greater
than your neighbors. This open porch was called a port cochere (pronounced
port ko share).
The port
cochere had long been a feature of hotels and theatres, of
course, but for a residence smaller than a castle to include such an
extravagance was unusual. They begin to appear on Italianate mansions
about 1860, and
they
do not seem
to be a regional taste; there are fine examples even in areas where rainy
weather is decidedly not the norm. What has this to do with religious
architecture, you ask? Perhaps not very much. Less than a dozen churches
in the state have a port cochere, but that simply makes an exploration
of this architectural element a bit more fascinating. We may safely assume
that a port cochere was not driven by liturgical requirements. They are
almost exclusively found only on stone churches and only on those erected
in the last few decades of the nineteenth century. All are architect-designed
churches, and all are located in wealthy urban communities with a substantial
mercantile or industrial class. Not entirely surprising, is it?
Four of
the churches with port
cocheres are Presbyterian, three are
Episcopal, one is the Reformed church in Bedminster (Somerset) and one
the Seventh Day Baptist church in Plainfield (Union). Others are located
in East Orange (Essex), Rumson (Monmouth), Madison and Dover (both in
Morris), and Millville (Cumberland). The Presbyterian church in Bound
Brook (Somerset) was built with a port cochere, but that was
eliminated when a large addition was built in this century. I have
undoubtedly overlooked
some churches that have (or had) one, but there are probably not more
than a handful in total.
As
I interpret it, a port cochere allowed the carriage and team,
as well as the dress of the ladies alighting from the carriage, to
become
the center of attention for those who gathered outdoors before or following
the services— rather like a red carpet at a movie premiere, it
tells us who we should be paying attention to. It had the additional
benefit,
of course, of announcing to members of other congregations that they
were in the presence of the community's leader in taste, style and financial
resources.
Anyone who believes that religious architecture is mainly
driven by piety, liturgy, architectural traditions, and the desire to
erect a place of worship appropriate to a powerful and glorious god simply
doesn't
understand
much about human
nature. Just as the large (mainly) Catholic and Lutheran churches were
used to mark ethnic "territories" in working class neighborhoods in
the closing decades of the nineteenth century,
we must be alert to the social and cultural significance of our architecture,
secular and religious. And a port cochere, although uncommon,
tells us a great deal about a congregation.
|
|