J. C. Furnas. The
Americans: A Social History of the United States, 1587 - 1914. New York: Putnam's, 1969.
I've dipped into this book a half dozen times since I received it as
a gift from my mother-in-law almost 40 years ago, but until last month
had never sat down to read it cover-to-cover. In spite
of
its
1,105
pages, it's an easy read. Some aspects are covered briefly (travel
across the state of New Jersey in the 1700s) and some get extended
treatment (the different waves of immigration). His perspectives are
often fresh and expressed in a journalistic, sometimes provocative
style.
No matter. There are assertions which perhaps should be qualified,
but nothing where a reader would go seriously wrong. I
don't think
the book is still in print, but used
copies can be found on Amazon.com.
Maxwell
MacKenzie. Abandonings:
Photographs of Ottertail County, Minnesota.
Washington, DC: Elliott & Clark Publishing, 1995.
I should have reviewed this fine little book years ago for it covers
the county in Minnesota where I was born; although I spent very
few years there, it is a landscape I am quite familiar with. Landscape
is not quite the right word for the contents, for there is an old
barn or farmhouse in
virtually every image here—sometimes the same building shot
in different seasons. Even if I hadn't been born there I would
want to
add this
book to my library, for it is a fine example of what can be done
with a modest subject on a modest scale.
Daniel
Walker Howe. What Hath God Wrought: The Transformation of America,
1815-1848. New York: Oxford, 2007
Howe
begins his account of the 30 years between the end of the War of 1812
and the aftermath
of the Mexican War with a nod to Thomas Hobbes,
saying “Life in America in 1815 was dirty, smelly, laborious,
and uncomfortable.” On the other hand he notes that most owned
land, taxes were low, and there were no titles or abbots. Over these
years the percentage of the population considered urban increased
from 7%
to 18%, but the real tension was not that of a increasingly industrialized
society in a nation of small farmers, but of the conflict between the
Slave Power with its limited-government philosophy of Jefferson and
Jackson
on
the one
hand,
and the expansionist,
use-federal-government to build canals and roads, etc approach of Clay
and the New Democrats. The book, which was just awarded the Pulitzer
Prize
for non-fiction, is an economic, social, cultural, and political exploration
of a defining period that began with the “Era of Good Feeling” as
it was known when I was in high school, and ended in the highly-partisan
and sectional-based conflicts, dominated by the Southern states judging
every measure by the test of its effect on the curtailment or extension
of
slavery. In many ways it is a depressing history, replete with the
perfidy of Jackson towards the Indians, and the trashing of the Constitution
by several of the state governors while the federal government looked
the other way. The conflict over the Second Bank of the United
States,
which I once
thought
was
central to the period is more than a footnote, of course, but certainly
not the defining event. In Howe's view (according to my reading) that
may have been adoption by the Democratic Party of the 2/3rds rule which
essentially
gave the
South veto power over any Presidential candidate. If you are interested
in that time frame, this is a fine work.
Richard Dawkins, The
God Delusion. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2006.
I am an unabashed admirer of Dawkins—his attitudes, his learning and
his writing style. The Selfish Gene has had an enormous
impact on evolutional biology, and Dawkins coined the term "meme," which
is now in widespead, even popular usage. I have previously reviewed
his book, The
Devil's Chaplain, and mentioned The Ancestor's
Tale on
this page, and now I am delighted to recommend his latest book. It
would outrage many, if they were to
read it, because Dawkins is, of course, the most prominent atheist
of the day, filling a role much as Robert Green Ingersoll did at
the end of the previous century. The Economist said this
is an irreverent book, which is a bit of an understatement. It is
a
howlingly
blasphemous
book, in which he calls the god of the Old Testament "a misogynistic,
homophoblic, racist, infanticidal, genocidal, filicidal, pestilential,
megalomaniacal, sado-masochistic, capriciously malevolent bully." And
that's just for starters. He has several interesting chapters, including
one on the roots of religion, which might be read with profit
even by the religiously-committed, and a couple where he takes on
the creationists. In this day of religious extremism, his chapter
on fundamentalism
and absolutism are worth a moment's reflection.
Claus Mroczynski. Sacred
Places of the Southwest. New Hope, PA: CBM
Publishing, 2006.
There are dozens of photographic books about the Anasazi and the southwest,
mostly in full color, but few as beautifully produced as this black-and-white
collection. The images
include all the standard sites but are fresh, although I am not particularly
attracted to the high contrast style Mrocynski has adopted. If you
are interested in photographing architecture, you'll want to examine
this work closely.
Alan K. Lathrop. Churches
of Minnesota: an illustrated guide. Minneapolis:
University of Minnesota Press, 2003.
A nicely illustrated guide to 108 old and contemporary churches in
my home state. I wasn't paying much attention to churches when I
was growing up, so all but a few are fresh to me.
I even found the church where my mother would have been baptized. The photography
(by Bob Firth) is excellent and there are a dozen color plates as
well as the
fine
black-and-white
images.
The
author
has done
a better
job than I have of tracking down the churches' architects and builders
in most cases, and far more
congregations
in Minnesota
have obtained National Register designation than New Jersey. The
architectural idiom is not much different than we would find in the
mid-Atlantic,
but, on the whole, fewer of these churches are crowded into small
lots, even when they are located in the city. If you have a connection
to
Minnesota, or just are interested in the religious architecture of
the country, this is warmly recommended.
David L. Holmes. The
Faiths of the Founding Fathers. New York: Oxford
University Press. 2006.
We have made the point before that America at the time of the revolution
was not a religious country. Only about 10% of residents, even in Puritan
New England, had any formal connection to a church, and in spite of
the perception that elected officials even then peppered their public
remarks with references to the Almighty, very few were practicing Christians.
The religious diversity of the middle colonies (which includes New
Jersey) had a more shaping influence on our nation's institutions than
any set of religious beliefs or dogmas. Those who came seeking religious
toleration for their own practices for the most part denied similar
religious freedom to others, but the diversity of sects and the pervasive
indifference to religion by a majority made it impossible for even
the most militant believers to impose their doctrines on the federal
government. (But some of the New England states still collected taxes
to support the Congregational church into the early decades of the
nineteenth
century.)
Those who read the religious slogans
on our coinage, or who take the words “under
God” in the Pledge of Allegiance literally, may believe that the founding
fathers also had a paternal connection to the Pat Robertsons and Jerry Falwells
of today. Holmes book examines the religious beliefs of the major founders and
finds a range of belief therein. He sets up categories from non-Christian deism
to orthodox Christianity and wedges all the familiar names into one of the bins.
This is not entirely satisfactory because of the weight he assigns to certain
actions, but his knowledge of solid. Participation in an Anglican vestry, for
example, which all aspiring public figures did as a matter of course in Virginia,
is
not evidence that the individual was a believer. A similar pattern obtained in
the Reformed churches here—men didn't join the church until they were 30 and
married, when it was assumed they would take on some "civic" responsibilities.
There is much solid history and a useful
corrective to the libel that the county was founded as a god fearing nation.
Jon Meacham, Newsweek editor, also has a recent
book on the topic—American
Gospel: God, the Founding fathers, and the Making of a Nation. Don't bother.
Camilo
José Vergara. How the Other Half Worships. New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press,
2005.
I've often thought
an inventory of the modern vernacular churches in a single city like
Trenton or
Paterson would make a fascinating photographic
project. Mr.Vergara has done something very like
that. Drawing on urban neighborhoods in Camden, Newark, New
York, Los Angeles, Chicago and Detroit, he has assembled more than
300 photographs of contemporary houses of worship, signs,
iconography and vernacular religious art, as well as the bishops,
ministers and ordinary people of those mostly black and Hispanic
communities. He interviewed dozens of those people and offers snippets
of the conversations that tell much about the religious sensibilities
and agendas of that subculture. There is no attempt at analysis or
generalization, nor perhaps any needed, for the images offer strong
testimony of a resilience, even in the face of crime, unemployment
and poverty.
Garry
Wills, Henry Adams and the Making of America. Boston: Houghton
Mifflin, 2005.
Wills has written extensively about American history, generally
using a focus on documents (the Declaration of Independence,
the Federalist
papers, Lincoln's Gettysburg Address) to illuminate major figures,
events and the cultural forces that shaped them. This book is ostensibly
about Henry Adams' major work on the presidencies of Jefferson and
Madison (available in the two volume Library of America edition),
but it is actually a retelling of that period (1801-1817).
Wills quotes
from Adams, summarizes his narrative, explains his perspectives and
something of Adams' methods, but adds much additional information
and his own interpretation of Jefferson and Madison—as
well as of John Quincy Adams, Abigail Adams, James Monroe,
and others. This is
not a substitute for reading Adams (yes, I know—at 2,700 pages
most people would be glad of a substitute) but a companion volume,
sort of a commentary and appreciation. If all you have read of Henry
Adams is his often gloomy Education, you may be surprised
at Adams' narrative skills. Wills deserves our appreciation for his
attempt
to resurrect
a neglected masterpiece of historical writing, and a neglected period
of our history.
Marian
Card Donnelly. The
New England Meeting Houses of the Seventeenth Century.
Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press,
1968.
The significance of the meetinghouses in early colonial New England
has a mythic importance in our literature and history; they are found
in the works of Cooper, Hawthorne, and Melville, of course, but have
also been portrayed on the covers of the Saturday Evening Post, Life,
and National Geographic as an embodiment of our democratic values.
This fine short work traces the development of the New England meeting
house to English village traditions rather than to the experimental
northern European Protestant architecture such as are found in the
octagonal and square meetinghouses of the earliest Dutch Reformed (and
even early Quaker meetinghouses) in this state. The text is well-supported
by numerous photographs and drawings, many from England and a few from
the continent, and the regular reader of this website will find several
buildings in New Jersey that echo those built a hundred (and more)
years before ours.
Roger Kennedy. Mr.
Jefferson's Lost Cause: Land, Farmers, Slavery, and the Louisiana
Purchase. New York: Oxford, 2003.
The plantation
system is Kennedy's bete
noir in this wide ranging
account of the economy and politics of the south during
Jefferson's political ascendancy. He is critical of the plantation
mentality of Jefferson's class, who felt it was cheaper to move
on to new lands than to use good farming practices. That mentality
led
to a dependence on foreign markets, single crops, the expansion
of slavery and ultimately, to civil war. He is unsparing in his
criticism
of what he calls Jefferson's persistent and deep anti-black animus,
which he feels in turn affected Jefferson's dislike of industrialization
and of cities in general. "Throughout most of his career,
Jefferson was too constrained by prejudice against artisans and
multiracial
towns to give support to urbanization in the South" (with
the exception of Eli Whitney's cotton gin and the manufacturers
in Richmond) .
. . "The slaves seemed ungrateful and the yeoman unworthy". Kennedy's
reading is broad and deep, as it is in his other books reviewed
here, but he makes frequent assertions about Jefferson's motives
and psychic
needs which I find are often unsupported. I have no argument
with his characterization of the effects of the plantation system,
but
the overriding impression I take away is one of regret for what
might have been for blacks, indians, and the early republic.
Pippa Norris
and Ronald Inglehart. Sacred
and Secular: Religion and Politics Worldwide. New York: Cambridge University Press,
2005.
Far from being
one of the three unmentionable subjects in polite conversation, religion
has moved to the center of many social as well as political
and national security conversations. One can hardly avoid articles
on the role of evangelicals in Republican politics and science education,
or the radical Muslim disaffection with anything western. Most Americans
are unaware of the role of religious parties in India, or even in the
Netherlands and Germany. So this timely work on the present role of
religion worldwide provides a dispassionate, if overly theoretical
analysis. The authors are political scientists, not divines or sociologists.
Their data comes from polls conducted in more than 80 countries over
a twenty year period (1981-2001). They examine topics ranging from
the role of religious parties in national elections to the basis for
personal belief systems.
In spite of the apparent potency of the
evangelicals in recent U.S. elections, the evidence suggests that religion has
lost
its decisive authority over the lives of adherents even in the United
States. Secularization has extended furthest in Europe; undeveloped
countries, especially below the equator, have yet to feel the full
force of modernity and so remain largely traditional in their belief
systems and in the influence of those systems on their culture.The
authors trace the growing irrelevance of religion in the modern world
to the fact that the more secure people become in the developed
world (not just
in terms of the necessities of life, but in the belief that the world is essentially
orderly and predictable), the less they depend on religion. Religion, meanwhile,
retains its authority among the less secure but faster-growing populations
of the third world. “The result of these combined trends,” the
authors conclude, “is that rich societies are becoming more secular but
the world as a whole is becoming more religious.” That is not a new interpretation,
of course; it is at least 2,000 years old, dating perhaps to Lucretius' argument
that “fear made the gods.” Their exploration of the roots of religion
is somewhat unsatisfactory, and is certainly not the last word on the subject.
In the months since publication, some researchers claim to have discovered
a “god gene,” that predisposes (some) people to a belief in god.
That is almost certainly nonsense, as though religiosity had some adaptive
value in the savannah a hundred and fifty thousand years ago. But this is an
interesting book; one, I suspect, that no elected official in this country
is likely to
read.
Jeanne
Halgren Kilde. When
Church Became Theatre: The Transformation of Evangelical Architecture
and Worship in Nineteenth-Century America.
New York: Oxford, 2002.
The thesis of this book is that a new relationship between
preacher and congregation demanded a new architecture—an auditorium
rather than a temple—and the rise of evangelical denominations
in the mid-nineteenth century meant that the traditional basilica-style
would give way to the new.
In the 1830s a popular revivalist minister
named Charles Grandison Finney
drew thousands
to
his meetings.
A group
of supporters renovated a New York City theatre to provide a better
setting for the kind of performance he offered. They soon built a new
church in the classical amphitheatre plan for him—the Broadway Tabernacle—the
first church of its kind in the United States, according to Kilde.
That plan was soon copied by hundreds of churches, mostly those with
evangelical
leanings, but eventually by almost every denomination (no Anglicans,
Quakers or Catholics in the nineteenth century). By the end of the
century, most large mainstream Protestant congregations had embraced
the style. The newly rebuilt First Baptist Church in Morristown and
the Presbyterian Church of the Redeemer (now United Presbyterian) in
Paterson
are fine
examples. The exterior might be Gothic, Romanesque, or even Byzantine,
but the interior was something new in religious architecture.
Most of the examples the author draws upon are
large churches, generally from the midwest, but the case she makes is convincing.
She
doesn't
appear
to
be
aware, however,
that
the
amphitheatre plan was adapted to even modestly-sized churches, of which we have
many in this state. The only major criticism I have is that in her focus on
Finney,
there
is
apparently no
recognition
of the antecedents of the amphitheatre design in the early Reformed churches
in the Netherlands and here in New Jersey. Evolutionists
would call that convergence—an
independently arrived at solution to a niche or opportunity.
Jeffrey
Howe. Houses of Worship: An Identification Guide to the History
and Styles of American Religious Architecture. San Diego:
Thunder Bay Press, 2003.
This is a chronologically-organized
survey of churches, synagogues, temples, and houses of worship of all
kinds, including contemporary buildings. The book includes capable definitions
of a wide variety of styles and has many plans, schematics, and other
line drawings. There are images of recycled buildings and mobile houses
of worship, but the book is particularly strong in its representation
of the modern period. Although there is ample explanation of various
architectural styles, there is insufficient attempt to trace influences,
or even to identify particularly influential designs. That is perhaps
a niggling point for most readers, but an important one for those fascinated
by the development of American architecture.
The
photographs are almost all in full color, although there are some old
black-and-white photos. Most of the images were taken with a 35mm camera,
as they exhibit the standard parallax/converging verticals problem endemic
to that format. Lots and lots of very nice images, in any case. The
book includes a glossary, a decent bibliography, and a nice section
on leading architects. As usual, New Jersey is under-represented—I
think I counted only 2 or 3 churches from our state in the book—but
that seems to be the general consensus regarding the merit of our religious
architecture.
Roger Moss, author, and Tom Crane, photographer. Historic
Sacred Places of Philadelphia. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania
Press, 2005.
Fifty
exceptional churches, meetinghouses and synagogues are treated in this
fine book that is a companion of sorts to the publisher's Historic
Houses of Philadelphia by the same author and photographer. To
select only 50 from the 16,000 houses of worship in the city means that
those included here are not going to be representative of the range
of architectural traditions that shaped the city or the larger regional
area it influenced; that is not a criticism of the book, but an observation.
What we are given is a selection of the very best design, construction
and preservation of eighteenth and nineteenth century religious architecture.
The photography is exquisite—I am insanely jealous—and the
text is informed, balanced, and wide-ranging. One can find the inspiration,
or at least a strong parallel, for many of New Jersey's churches in
the pages of this volume, although that is not the reason you might
want to buy the book. It is an exceptional work, beautifully designed
and produced, and we have nothing like it in our state.
Catherine
W. Bisher, Charlotte V. Brown, Carl Lounsbury, Ernest H. Wood III. Architects
and Builders in North Carolina: A History of the Practice of Building.
Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1990.
This
is a chronologically-organized account of North Carolina building practices
from earliest colonial periods to the twentieth century. It moves from
the rudest user-built structures through artisan-built homes
and public buildings to those erected by contractors and "undertakers,"
many of whom engaged architects from Philadelphia and New York.
The authors discuss sawmills, brickmaking, and the use of
manufactured
windows, sashes and other elements that once were made by skilled artisans.
Until the coming of the railroads, availability and transportation
of building materials were significant issues for most major projects.
The
builder-client
relationship
is thoroughly
explored
with reference to
many specific
buildings. With
the exception
of the
widespread
use
of slave labor and the effect of distance from the fashionable centers
of New York and Philadelphia, there is little here that could not apply
to New Jersey. An exceptional work of scholarship that has no parallel
for our state.
Bisher
is also the lead author for a three
volume work on the architecture of the state: A Guide to the Historic Architecture
of [Eastern/Piedmont/Western] North Carolina. University of North Carolina
Press, 1996. It is a shame that neither Rutgers nor Princeton has produced a
comparable
work, useful for scholars and tourists.
Jon
Butler, Awash
in a Sea of Faith: Christianizing the American Republic.
Cambridge: Harvard, 1990.
Butler's
book is almost 15 years old, but it remains unsurpassed, particularly
as an account of
the revivalist spirit of the mid-nineteenth century.
He places that spirit in the context of its (mostly) English background,
filled with lively detail, anecdotes and hard data.The early years
of religious practice in Virginia and Massachusetts are fascinating;
there were more than 200 witch episodes in the colonies that preceded
the Salem witch trials, for example, and Butler explores the fixation
with magic and the occult in both seventeenth and nineteenth centuries.
The African
spiritual holocaust is the topic of another extensive exploration,
and we see its effects even in this age.He examines the sources of
what he calls "the myth of the American Christian past—one of
the most powerful myths to inform the history of both American religion
and American society." Later churchmen, he says, sought to sacralize
the American revolution, in spite of the deist and enlightenment
views of most of the founders, in order to harness the religious
authority
being abandoned by the state. An interesting explanation with considerable
relevance today. This is a rich, thoughtfully considered work of
historical scholarship and interpretation.
Richard
Dawkins. A Devil's Chaplain: Reflections on Hope, Lies, Science,
and Love. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2003.
Of
all the people writing on science, Dawkins and Lewis Thomas are the
most fascinating, but Dawkins is more likely to challenge existing
beliefs of every sort: scientific, societal and religious. In this
collection of essays he writes of genes, memes, September 11, irrational
beliefs, evolution, and cultural relativism. In discussing whether
science
and religion are converging, he notes that "when it comes
to Baal and the Golden Calf, Thor and Woden, Poseiden and Apollo, Mithras
and Ammon Ra, [modern Christians] are actually atheists. We are all
atheists about most of the gods that humanity has ever believed in." His
essay on Viruses of the Mind could be read with profit by
parents, professors of logic, psychologists, and even platform preachers,
but that is too much to hope for. Highly
recommended.
Dawkins has another new book just out,
entitled The
Ancestor's Tale. It's an exposition of our evolutionary ancestry, filled
with engaging facts and explanations of all kinds of little critters. Schoolboard
members
inclined towards creationism (Intelligent Design, I think they are now
calling it) could
benefit
by
a
careful
reading,
but that, also, is too much to hope for.
Adam Nicolson. God's
Secretaries: The Making of the King James Bible.
New York: Harper Collins, 2003.
Eminently readable account of the political and religious situation
at the succession of James VI of Scotland to the English throne. James,
the Protestant son of a Catholic queen, ruled a strongly Presbyterian
Scotland while waiting for Queen Elizabeth to die. England had survived
the Protestant-Catholic persecutions of Edward's and Mary's reigns,
but dissent was rife within the Anglican church. Much greater significance
was given to the word by Puritans and Presbyterians than to the sacraments
and ceremonies of the Anglican church, and each sect seemed to use
a different Bible. A new translation (the King James version, naturally)
was one response to the factionalism (as well as a product of it) dividing
English Protestants. Although the author focuses on a half dozen of
the most significant of the Translators, his real topic is the political
milieu and its influence on the language of the new translation.
David
Hackett Fischer. Washington's Crossing. New York: Oxford,
2004.
Every battle of the Revolution has a book to chronicle its leading
figures, activities and significance, but no one has done a
better job with
any battle than this book on the events leading up to the two(!)
battles of Trenton and the battle of Princeton. Fischer argues
persuasively that the events leading up to the battles in New Jersey
convinced
many that the rebellion was close to being washed up, but that
by spring, many British officers were convinced they could never
win
the war—a stunning reversal.He refutes the canard that the
Hessians in Trenton were drunk following traditional Christmas
revelries and
shows the significance of the foraging war that the New Jersey
militia as well as Continental troops carried on between January
and March
1777. The contrast between Washington's leadership—relying
frequently on open discussion of alternatives with his senior staff—and
that of the top down style of command by British and German generals
is
emphasized, as well as the resistance to direction by American
Continentals and militia (they needed leadership but could not
be commanded).The
book contains 19 excellent maps and 150 pages of notes, weather
reports, order
of
battle, and even
a fascinating discussion
of the
several paintings of Washington crossing the Delaware. If you like
local history with national significance, this is the book for
you. It
is a treasure.
Walter
A. McDougall, Freedom
Just Around the Corner: A New American History - 1585-1828.
New York: HarperCollins, 2004.
This book is a highly-readable and fresh look at well-known
events and people, as well as the less-well known, including significant
figures
like Hugh Williamson of North Carolina, General Nathaniel Greene, and
his enchanting wife Caty. McDougall is particularly scathing in his judgment
of the military prowess of General Thomas Sullivan (who seems to be highly
regarded in the western part of the state and in Pennsylvania). Names
we may recognize but not place, such as the War of Jenkin's Ear, are
quickly sketched and given a significance. In some cases where events
are well known there is little
narrative—the battles of the Revolutionary
War or King Phillips War, but there is enough to get a good sense of
the event and the larger context. Perhaps that is what McDougall does
best—to place people and events in a context.
New Jersey, as usual, gets short shrift, but this
is not all about Massachusetts, Pennsylvania and Virginia, either. He does work
in a few events in most of the
colonies, although usually in so few words as to gloss over any subtleties. The
disputes in this colony over quit rents and land titles is not really mentioned,
although it was at the core of colonial politics for a generation and certainly
had implications for the Crown's dealings with the colony.
It is not altogether an uplifting account, as his
narrative is rife with bribery, cronyism, collusion, all kinds of sharp-dealings,
as well as brutality and cheating,
especially of Indians. But we knew that, of course; it just plays a more central
role in McDougall's account.
Too much emphasis is placed on the Masonic connections,
in my opinion, and too little on the rich texture of local politics, which often
had a disproportionate impact
on national politics because of the way senators were chosen. He gives much emphasis
to the role of religion (maybe too much), as well as its place in American society,
apart from any role in economic and community development. In that respect, he
does not seem to take cognizance of the low percentage of religious affiliation
in
the decades before 1820—one might be left with the impression that church
membership was always high, even if members were not usually pious or observant.
The author notes the astonishing fecundity of the
settlers and the rapid growth in population of the western and border states
between 1790 and 1830; it was
not just the coastal cities that were growing through immigration but "natural" increase
due to the large families and (apparently) decreasing infant mortality.McDougall
is clearly an admirer of Hamilton and critical of Jefferson, who comes across
as lazy, highly political, and unprincipled. To his credit, there is nothing
of Jefferson's liaison with his slave which generally seems to be the center
of much contemporary interpretation of the man.
He places America's foreign activities, land purchases,
wars and economic development in a context of European (mostly English and French,
of course) activity, but
there is too little on the impact of the West Indies, especially the Barbadian
connections. He offers less emphasis on the "democratic" impulse in
the western territories and states— those opposed to authority, patronage
and pretensions, and more on party politics and the influence of specific personalities.
Thus, it seems to me he leaves the impression that abolitionist sentiment arose
out of nowhere in the form of an amendment to a bill admitting Missouri as a
state. In this he skips over the role of the agitators, churches of the north,
and the reforming classes.
The book includes an unusually good account of
the development of regional economies—mining,
tobacco & cotton, canal-building, and the railroads, and of the machinations
that often went into raising capital, borrowing, and obtaining charters, subsidies,
and monopolies. The precarious financial condition of most states, as well as
men of great estates, is a sub-theme. If the role of debt has not been examined
by scholars of the early Republic, this work suggests it would be a good lode
to mine.
One particular revelation to me is that midwestern states—Indiana, Ohio,
Illinois—were substantially settled by southerners; McDougall says of Indiana, "a
northern state settled by southerners posing as westerners." Yet parts of
these states were centers of the Free Soil/anti-slavery movement by the 1850s,
a period not treated in this volume of what is intended to be a three volume
work. Professor McDougall is off to an auspicious start. If you are interested
in giving just one book on American history to a serious reader, today this is
the book to give.
Maxine
Lurie & Marc Mappen, eds. The Encyclopedia of New Jersey.
New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 2004.
An encyclopedia ought to do three things: provide quick
answers to factual questions about a topic, sketch an overview
of the
major aspects and dimensions of the topic, and serve as a jumping-off
place for additional research. In that respect, the new Encyclopedia
of New Jersey is a creditable and substantial reference
work—and
a very good deal at less than $50. It is loaded with thematic
maps and tables and most articles include brief bibliographies
that can be the basis of more extensive reading. There are good
articles on each religion that outline the history of that denomination
in the state, and articles on every municipality that usually
provide something of the history, major employers, significant
events, as well as basic geographic and demographic data. There
is more than sufficient emphasis on popular culture and current
events so that it is a browser's delight, and the history articles
are thorough enough even for someone who is well-read to benefit.
Highly recommended. (In the interest of full disclosure, I wrote
the article on "religious architecture.")
Nathan
O. Hatch. The Democratization of American Christianity.
New Haven: Yale University Press, 1989.
Serious students of early nineteenth century American religious history
will long have treasured this book, but I am late to the party, having
spent my time when it was first published trying to understand how
adults learn. Now that I know that, I am ready to turn to loftier
issues. [N.B. That was intended as ironic, folks.]
The book is studded with intriguing observations
and generalizations about the Great Awakening and the Second Great Awakening,
but the author's focus is really on the activities and appeal of the mass
movements represented by the Methodists, Campbellite/Christians, Baptists, the
black churches,
and the Mormons. He notes that "the fundamental religious quarrel of
the late eighteenth century was not between Calvinist and Arminian . . .
, evangelical
and freethinker, but between radically different conceptions of the Christian
ministry. As respectable clergymen in these turbulent years reiterated their
confidence in learning and civility, potent strains of anticlericalism welled
up with the bounds of the church, challenging the right of any special order
to mediate the gospel." This was part of a pattern of Jeffersonian democracy,
where even the unlettered considered their opinions were as good as those
of the educated. One result was the multiplication of religious sects; another
was
that there was a shift in orientation from seeking conversions to building
an organization from the ground up, which may be a persistent strain in the
fundamentalist
movements even today.
Increasingly,
he
notes as an example,
the
core
of Methodist leaders were professional organizers, sent out to call churches
into
existence
rather than waiting for a call from a church to come
to them. "These roving evangelists would go from house to house, if
necessary, looking for anyone who would listen." Hatch closes his account
with an epilogue that is highly relevant today—the recurring populist
impulse in American Christianity which has deeply polarized not only religion,
but also social
and political affairs. An exceptional work of history.
Robert
Guter and Janet Foster (authors); Jim DelGuidice (photographer).
Building by the Book: Pattern-Book Architecture in New Jersey.
New Brunswick: Rutgers, 1992.
The name of the architect of a old church has been preserved
in less than 10 percent of the buildings in this state; the figure
would be
even lower for the residences built before the turn of the century.
Yet the state's buildings reflect the prevailing high styles of their
eras remarkably well. The reason can be found in this fascinating book
which details the use of published plans—English architectural
books in the Georgian period, builder's guides in the first decades
of the nineteenth century, pattern books in mid-century, periodicals
that featured a monthly house-plan in the early years of the twentieth
century, and finally, and mail-order plans (and houses) by the second
decade of the century. With vintage and contemporary photographs, and
reproductions from those print sources, the authors illustrate how
much of the state's architecture is attributable to plans drawn up
for the general public. Anyone interested in the delights of residential
building in the state will be fascinated by this book, which is rich
in social history as well as architecture and building methods. It
was published ten years ago and may be out of print, but most good
libraries in the state have it.
Jorg
Brockmann (photographer), Bill Harris (text). One Thousand
New York Buildings. New York: Black Dog and Leventhal Publishers,
2002..
The book works its way, borough by borough, and neighborhood by
neighborhood, to notable buildings in the city, many of them
churches. It ranges from the 17th century Dutch farmhouse to the
recent rebuilding
of the Museum of Natural History, with everything from converted
carriage houses to upscale Westside apartments. The names of
many architects are familiar from their work in New Jersey, although
generally
on a lesser scale than the buildings pictured here.
A careful reader will see how many traditions are
common to New York and the northern part of New Jersey. For example, the last
building pictured in the book,
the Church of St. Joachim and St. Anne, on Staten island, erected in 1891,
bears a strong resemblance to the Catholic church in High Bridge, built about
the same
time; the Asbury Methodist church, erected in 1849, also on Staten Island,
reprises the Presbyterian church in Chatham; Christ Church on the upper west
side of Manhattan,
designed by Upjohn, has features that can be found on the Episcopal church
in Woodbridge, and the Flatbush Dutch Reformed church in Brooklyn, erected in
1798,
could be a stand-in for the First Reformed church in New Brunswick. The book
is an excellent guide to the architecture of the city, with fine locater maps
of every structure pictured. More important, from our perspective, it shows
how much our buildings owe to those across the Hudson.
Richard
Corth (photographer), Lynn Cunningham Traume & Carol
Kammen, (historians), and Fred Muratori (poet). The Architectural
Heritage of Tompkins County [NY]. Ithaca, NY: DeWitt Historical
Society, 2002.
Upstate New York
has one of the richest troves of early 19th century architecture
in the country, as anyone who is a frequent visitor to
the Finger Lakes region knows. Ithaca is the center of Tompkins County,
but the developmental sprawl has not seemed to affect its surroundings
in the same way that the area around Syracuse, the center of
another region of wonderful 18th and 19th century buildings, has.
Small towns
in the county, a few of which hardly merit a dot on the map today,
boast fine examples of most of the major traditions in American architecture,
but Greek Revival seems to dominate. There are several dozen homes
and churches in that style built between 1820 and 1850, most with the
full portico that is less common in New Jersey. I have been a guest
in one of them many times.
The book contains approximately 150 excellent
photographs of historic architecture, mostly 19th century but a few 20th century.
The introductory essay provides
a brief history of the region, with a focus on its building traditions, and
the captions for the photos offer additional detail, including architect/builder,
original owner and subsequent uses. The book is beautifully designed and printed
on good paper, and is a model of what a county might do, even on a modest
budget, to celebrate and preserve its historical heritage.
R. Marilyn
Schmidt. Churches
and Graveyards of the New Jersey Pine Barrens. Chatsworth,
NJ: Pine Barrens Press, 2002.
This little book has a load of useful information, notably driving
directions to about 150 old churches/burial grounds, largely in Atlantic,
Burlington, Cape May and Ocean counties. The entries are arranged alphabetically,
by the name of the church/cemetery, but there is an index by county.
There are no illustrations, but the historical information about each
entry is ample, and appears to be accurate. Given the absence of any
maps, the book is only marginally useful as a driving guide; for people
who
know the Pine Barrens already, I can imagine it serving them well.
I expect I will make good use of it to track down a few missing churches.
John Keegan.
A History of Warfare. New York: Vintage, 1993.
Although the commentary
about the war in Iraq threatens to outnumber the shots being fired (if
possible), a more historical perspective on the nature of war may put
a different cast on the strategy and tactics of both the combatants.
Keegan has written a knapsack full of books on the topic, but first
came to prominence with his book, The Face of Battle, in 1976.
Here he draws on ancient history, anthropological accounts of warfare
among 20th century primitives and the impact of the horse and chariot,
organized armies, gunpowder and steel, and fortifications. Many of his
historical accounts of warfare between asymmetrical forces offer a useful
counterpoint to some of the encounters in Iraq today.
Michael F. Holt.
The Rise and Fall of the American Whig Party: Jacksonian Politics
and the Onset of the Civil War. New York: Oxford, 1999.
At 1248
pages, this is not a book for the casual reader; even for someone fascinated
by American political history, it is, at times, tough-going, with its
state-by-state (occasionally district-by-district) dissection of election
results and local politicians and office-holders. But for an understanding
of the complex interactions between state politics, national figures,
the increasing sectionalism caused by the anti-slavery movement, and
the changing demographics of the country under massive German and Irish
Catholic immigration, it is an impressive and invaluable study. There
is little here about religion, but the moralizing movements: abolition,
temperance, public schooling (and anti-Catholicism) are examined for
their effects on political alliances and election outcomes.
The author corrects the common misconception
that the Whig party arose from the remnants of the Federalists; he notes
its evolution from divisions within the Jeffersonian Republican party
and its maturation as the opposition to Jackson's centralization of
power and as the leading advocate for state and federal activitism in
internal improvements (canals, railroads, public schools). The importance
of state issues and personalities on the fortunes of the Whig party
is the central theme, although the politics of major Whig figures, Clay,
Webster, John Quincy Adams, Fillmore, as well as their Democratic opponents,
Jackson, Van Buren, Polk, are thoroughly examined. I have revised my
estimation of Fillmore, and solidified my distaste for Webster. On the
whole, an indispensable work on the onset of the Civil War and on the
period between 1834 and 1856.
Mark Gerlernter.
A History of American Architecture; Buildings in The Cultural and
Technological Context. Hanover: University Press of New England,
1999.
I have
a couple dozen history of American architecture books in my library,
but this one is special because it deals directly with the construction
technology, with the European cultural antecedents and with the changing
American attitudes. In fact, he makes an effective case that we really
cannot understand American architecture in the early centuries without
an understanding of European cultural and political history, as well
as some knowledge of architectural history. Most books on the topic
focus on the development of architectural styles without relating those
changes to either technology or the cultural forces which gave impetus
to the style. The illustrations are fresh and plentiful, including photographs,
plans and drawings.
Robert Bruce
Mullin (ed.) Moneygripes Apprentice: The Personal Narrative
of Samuel Seabury III. New Haven: Yale, 1989.
Although the grandson
of an important Revolutionary War era Episcopal minister, Samuel Seabury
was apprenticed to a cabinetmaker (in 1815) when he was 14. In 1831
he wrote a series of letters (a literary style then popular) as an auto-biographical
account of his brief apprenticeship, his self-education and his attempts
to find a place in the new republic, where traditional class distinctions
and the importance of family connections were eroding. (But still important,
as he secured work in the Customs office and as an assistant schoolteacher
through both.) The letters offer a look at the life of an apprentice,
through the eyes of someone who was born in a more genteel tradition
and clearly felt alien in that world. Apprenticeships were as much a
means of social control as a training for a trade (a cabinetmaker was
near the top of the tradesmen, but still regarded widely as an inferior
sort by those raised in an Episcopal tradition), and Seabury chafed
at both. The letters also remind us of the disruption caused by Thomas
Paine and the Deists to established religions and colleges (Yale, Harvard)
which were still in the grip of their religious sponsors.
The
early letters dealing with his apprenticeship are fascinating, and the
later ones dealing with his attempts to sort out theological issues
can be skimmed. His accounts of his efforts to teach himself Latin and
Greek, as well as his other reading (Locke, Gibbons, Addison and Steele,
as well as many works of exegesis and apologetics) are self-congratulatory,
but interesting. Equally valuable is the editors extended introduction
covering the social and religious world of the period.
George Tice. Fields of Peace: A Pennsylvania German Album. Godine,
1998 (revised edition).
New
Jersey photographer George Tice is best known as an urban romantic,
the title of one of his later books and the subject of his current exhibit
at the International Center of Photography in New York (it runs only
through September 1). But Fields of Peace is an elegiac work, focusing
on the Amish and Mennonite peoples of Lancaster County. There are portraits
and landscapes and churchscapes and dozens of simple domestic scenes,
all beautifully printed. This revised edition is largely early work,
mostly shot in the mid-to-late 1960s, supplemented by 39 additional
photographs, including five shot in 1990; the text by Millen Brand is
unaltered from the 1970 edition. A few of the images have become icons,
instantly recognizable; many others are less known but no less powerful.
There are no captions, and text does not
explain any of the images, which literally need no explanation. Collectively
they tell a story, and that story is not ours. So little has changed
in those communities that only one photograph, of a young man in sunglasses
riding a horse, was identifiable by me as a contempory image. The text
is a sympathetic, candid and enlightening description of the Amish and
Mennonite peoples, usually erroneously called "Pennsylvania Dutch."
This is a beautiful
book.
Larry R. Gerlach. Prologue to Independence: New Jersey in the Coming
of the American Revolution. New Brunswick: Rutgers, 1976.
It is
appropriate to review this book this month, even 26 years after it was
published, as the story of New Jersey's role in the events leading up
to the Declaration of Independence is a fascinating onenot as
dramatic as that of Massachusetts or Virginia, but in many ways pivotal.
The leading delegates, like John Adams, believed the middle colonies
had to be solid for independence, and New Jersey, although sympathetic
with those protesting the Stamp Act and the "Intolerable Acts,"
were not so personally or economically aggrieved as other colonies,
so might have gone either way. What in retrospect looks inevitable,
clearly was not, and the author makes clear the critical role of Witherspoon
and Livingston, just names of streets and towns to most residents, in
leading the way to independence. The timespan covered in the book is
roughly that of the tenure of Governor William Franklin (1763-1776),
and the details of his contests with an independent and at times obtuse
Assembly makes for interesting reading. The emphasis is on politics,
but his description of the impact of the proprietors, the economy, the
influence of neighboring New York and Pennsylvania, and the religious
factors in shaping the decision for independence is exceptionally well
done.
Eamon Duffy. The
Voices of Morebath, Reformation & Rebellion in an English Village.
New Haven: Yale, 2001.
This is
a chronicle of a remote sheep-farming village in the west of England
during the latter part of the reign of Henry VIII, Edward VI, Mary and
the early years of Elizabeth. From the parish accounts of the village's
priest, an unusually scrupulous recorder of the day-to-day events, the
early years chronicle the simple pieties involving in raising money
by sponsoring "ales," or festivalswhat we might call
ice cream socials, although beer and hard cider would have been the
preferred consumableto pay for candles, a shrine, vestments, etc.,
and such minutia as who had promised what sum to the church, who was
responsible for grazing the churches sheep for the year, and so on.
Then, with King Henry's break with the Church and later, the imposition
of Protestantism, the ales and ceremonies are forbidden and the idols
(supposedly) sold off. With the death of Henry, then Edward and the
installation of Catholic Mary as Queen, comes a respite for Catholic
rites and holidays; church possessions come out of hiding, but some
of the vigor of the ales has been lost and the bonds of the community
have been weakened, all of which is noted (but not commented on) in
the parish accounts.
When
Mary dies and is succeeded by Elizabeth, Protestantism returns and the
state apparatus, increasingly competent and thorough, forces the elimination
of any remaining vestiges of Catholic practices. It is easy in this
book to forget, however, that it was less Elizabeth's intolerance (she
was disinclined to interfere in matters of conscience and felt that
time would bring most Catholics around to Protestant worship) than the
very real threat posed by the many Catholic adherents, with their allegiance
to the Papal Bull against a Protestant ruler and to a Catholic pretender
in Mary Queen of Scots, supported by Spain's King Phillip II machinations
in Scotland and Ireland.
The priest records the increasing secularization
of demands on the parish for money to support the military and the state.
It wasn't entirely the imposition of a new form of worship and dogma
which was upsetting, but the abolition of the responsibilities that
supported the church also bound the community together. The impact of
schism and the subsequent rise of Protestant (or even Calvinistic) doctrine
was not as disruptive in this parish as the breakdown of the web of
obligations and responsibility that accompanied the banning of the "beer
blasts" and "ice-cream socials" that contributed a few
shillings to the church.
Roger Kennedy.
Orders from France: The Americans and the French in a Revolutionary World,
1780-1820. New York: Knopf, 1989.
There's relatively little here about churches, and less about New
Jersey, but as cultural history, the book is engrossing as it traces the
many social and commercial connections among political and business figures
and architects in the early days of the republic. The influence of French
Creole/West Indies political and cultural connections on relations with
France and England is astonishing. The book is well illustrated and documented,
but unless you have a strong interest and background in the period, this
is not an easy read because of the wealth of detail. For a person interested
in architectural history, I am pretty late to the table on this book,
which is not a reason to neglect it now. Kennedy is also the author of
American Churches, a large format book that surveys the entire
county from the earliest churches to those of the present day; a very
thoughtful book.
Judith Dupré.
Churches. New York: HarperCollins, 2001.
A more-or-less typical "coffeetable" book, but at an exceptionally
low price, given the quality of the paper, printing and binding. The
text is not extensive, but it is well-informed and the multitude of
color photos are very well done. The book includes many of the grand
churches from around the world, about sixty in all, including the Great
Auditorium in Ocean Grove. There is a short, but interesting essay about
each church. In general, it's a little too unfocused for anyone serious
about church architecture or traditions, but it makes a fine gift book.
David Hackett
Fischer. Albion's Seed: Four British Folkways in America.
New York: Oxford, 1989.
This is
a book I've been back to several times since I first read it a dozen
years ago; it contains a wealth of data and insights about four early
settlements: New England by the Puritans, the Delaware Valley by Quakers,
tidewater Virginia by a Royalist elite and their servants, and the Carolina
backcountry by peoples from the Scottish borders and northern Ireland.
I had no particular intention of reviewing it here, since it was published
so long ago, but I recently saw a paperback edition in Barnes &
Noble within a day or two of a librarian asking me if I was familiar
with the book; that suggested it ought to be brought to the attention
of a wider audience.
It is a scholarly
book, but eminently readable for all the tables, maps and footnotes,
if the reader has even a middling interest in the early settlement of
those regions. The author discusses not only what part of England (Albion)
the colonists came from, but their socio-economic background, religion,
family, occupation and social standing. He goes on to sketch in the
traditions in architecture (domestic, public and ecclesiastical), attitudes
towards women, marriage, sex, education, and a variety of customs, and
how those traditions and attitudes gave a unique character to each region.
The point is that the 17th and early 18th century English customs and
traditions of the regions the immigrants came from had an enormous influence
on many of the culture mores and values of the colonies where they settled.
That, of course, should not be surprising, but what is surprising is
the pervasiveness and persistence of many of those attitudes and traditions
to this day. Although more than 80% of our population have no British
ancestors at all, the regional customs of those four colonist groups
still influence the politics, religion, gender, and government, as well
as such general orientations as imperialism, populism and progressivism.
John Campbell.
The Prairie Schoolhouse. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico,
1996.
Every
few years an author and publisher combine to get a book exactly right,
and this is one of those books. There are 60 black-and-white photographs
of prairie schoolhouses, an odd dwelling or two and a grain elevator.
They were built in the areas covered by the Western Homestead Act of
1862, which included Montana and the Dakotas, western Nebraska and Kansas,
Wyoming, Colorado, New Mexico and the plains areas of eastern Washington
and Oregon. The first real settlers on these lands were farmers, who
were given title to a 160 acre section of land, with the requirement
that they build residences and farm the land for a period of five years.
The bulk of the settlers arrived sometime after 1885 and peaked about
1915. Germans and Norwegians, with, surprisingly, some Russian and Bulgarians
settlers populated these lands. Railroads were the lifelines, and small
towns sprouted as fast as the wheat fields; "for ten, twenty, or
forty miles beyond each town stretched the farms, dotting the prairies
with their houses and barns and one-room schools."
The school
was homemade. Professional carpenters were scarce and architects were
practically unheard of, but most of the homesteaders had basic knowledge
of carpentry and masonry. . . . Architectural variations resulted
from builders' idiosyncrasies or their ethnic derivations. But the
two major varieties of the prairie schoolhouse . . . were determined
largely by climate, and the availability, or lack thereof, of construction
materials.
Ninety-eight percent
of the one-room schoolhouses have disappeared, and those that remain
were mostly emptied when the Great Depression wiped out a generation
of farmers; all the rest were abandoned by the 1950s. Their students
now are dead, or graying, but the images in the book offer a chance
for immortality. The photography is exceptional, and the design and
reproduction equally so. This is one of my favorite books. The last
image is of a woodframe school, built about 1900 in Douglas County,
Washington. The door is gone, as are the windows, carried away for other
uses. Written on the side of the building are two words, "Remember
us." We will.
John Szarkowski.
The Idea of Louis Sullivan. New York: Bullfinch Press, 2001.
Growing up in Minnesota in the 1950s I occasionally traveled with my
father to some of the small towns in the southeastern part of the state.
In Owatonna I was attracted to a bank building much different from
any
bank or small office building I had ever seen; it was both modern and
decorated, but the decorations weren't just stuck on as an afterthought
to embellish an entrance or a window. I haven't seen the building in
more than 40 years (I hope it's still there), but it leaped from the
pages of this book. The architect was Louis Sullivan, a name that would
have meant nothing to me then. Sullivan was a 19th century architect,
most identified with Chicago; Frank Lloyd Wright worked as his chief
draftsman and referred to him as "the master."
There are no churches here and nothing
from New Jersey, but it should be of interest to anyone interested
in architecture or in photographing architecture. Szarkowski was the longtime
Director of Photography for the Museum of Modern Art in New York, author
of many other books including a beautiful one on Eugene Atget which
came out last year, and, clearly, a very fine photographer in his own
right. This superb book is a re-issue of the 1956 edition.
Dora Crouch
and June Johnson. Traditions in Architecture: Africa, America,
Asia and Oceania. New York: Oxford, 2001.
Although
the book was written as a textbook for a course in non-western traditions
in architectural history, it may be of considerable interest to anyone
traveling to parts of Asia, Africa and Oceania. The authors' approach
is largely descriptive, and the illustrations both plentiful and very
good, so one may be a little impatient that the verbal descriptions
rarely provide much information that is not apparent from the photos
and drawings; but this is, after all, a textbook, and if you will grant
that allowance, it is well-worth your time.
The architectural traditions covered are
contemporary as well as ancient, grand as well as domestic and, throughout,
the authors treat the sacred and symbolic traditions of the culture,
insofar as they are known or may be inferred, as they bear on the built
environment. The book is organized thematically, rather than chronologically
or geographically. Among the themes: moveable, stationary and underground
dwellings; the impact of colonialism on native structures; the transfer
of traditional architectural knowledge; and spatial organization, from
courtyards to the axial alignments of cities. The focus is on three
categories of structures: professionally designed and built monuments,
houses erected by traditional building tradesmen, and structures that
ordinary people build for their own use. The overarching theme is that
architecture expresses cultural values as well as technology, and it
illustrates that theme with an exceptionally wide range of examples.
In the single area of the book where I
have a fairly solid background, the Anasazi/Puebloan architecture of
the Southwest, the scholarship is current and sound. Interesting and
highly informative.
James Allen,
ed. Without Sanctuary: Lynching Photography in America. Twin
Palms, 2000.
There
were 4,742 recorded lynchings in America between 1882 and 1968, which
probably comprises a small fraction of the actual total. All but 10%
of the victims were black. The lynchings were sometimes announced in
newspapers in advance, bringing crowds of thousands, often by special
excursion trains; parents sent notes to school asking their kids be
excused to attend the event. "I seen a man hanged," one apparently
dissatisfied nine-year old said, "now I wish I could see one burned."
This is a brutal book. It consists of
several angry essays and 98 photographs, mostly taken by professional
photographers, and often made into postcards at the scene to be sold
to crowds as souvenirs. The same photos once purchased to celebrate
the lynching now condemn the smiling faces that crowd into the photographers'
frame.
Most of us have seen the photos of the hanging of the Lincoln conspirators
and probably even of a lynchingare these more horrible? Far more,
and not simply because of the mutilated bodies. The gloating, celebratory
smiles of the crowd are the real horror, underscored because the images
are postcards, sold at the scene to proclaim their owners' presence,
like a T-shirt saying you've been to Martha's Vineyard.
The normal purpose
of a book of photographs is to inform, celebrate, record, even arouse;
these images evoke emotions I have not felt since my father brought
back snapshots he'd taken of emaciated bodies propped up or stacked
like cordwood, when his unit freed a concentration camp at the end of
World War II. Those photos were lost long ago; my father may even have
thrown them away. But I can see them still.
Paul
Eli Ivey. Prayers in Stone: Christian Science Architecture
in the United States, 1894-1930. Urbana: Illinois, 1999.
There are no 19th
century Christian Science churches in the New Jersey, but there are
several built in the period covered by this book, which is well-illustrated
and exceptionally well documented. Architecture was not an incidental
element to Mary Baker Eddy and other early leaders of the sect, which
favored traditional styles, mostly neoclassical, in an attempt, according
to the author, to provide a legitimacy to the religion and an image
of it as prominent and successful. I have several times mistaken a Christian
Science church for one I suspected had been erected by a Presbyterian
or Baptist congregation in the early part of the 19th century; I was
more than a little disappointed to find, on closer inspection, that
the building was put up in the 1930s.
Joyce
Appleby.
Inheriting the Revolution: The First Generation of Americans.
Cambridge:
Harvard, 2000.
The author focuses
on a single generation, those who came of age during the 1790-1830 period.
Jefferson is her hero and Federalists the enemy, but she acknowledges
that Federalists were far more opposed to slavery and protective of
Indian rights than Jefferson's Republicans, who were incensed by Northern
efforts to block Missouri's admission as a slave state.
The book is heavily anecdotal, based
on her reading of some 200 autobiographies written during the period.
She covers topics such as enterprise, careers, distinctions, intimate
relations and reform, but the theme is the new national identities that
emerged, one Northern and the other Southern, during the period. Three
primary forces that shaped the Northern identity, economic enterprise,
political participation and religious revival, also caused a reaction
in the South that no less shaped it, but it ways that left it bewildered,
defensive and conservative. Readers not already thoroughly conversant
with the period will miss any discussion of the emergence of party politics,
though she notes the personal vilification and "unchecked vituperation
of public controversies" that resulted from the proliferation of
new voices and new publications. The elements behind the rise of Jacksonian
radical politics is absent, as is any treatment of the economic factors
that encouraged the enterprise and careers she celebrates.
More troubling is her misreading of the
religious situation during the period. She notes "the religious
revivalists successfully challenged the religious hegemony of the Anglican
and Congregational churches," but that hegemony was regional, not
national to begin with, and neither the Congregational church, challenged
at home by Unitarians and in the western territories by Presbyterians,
nor the Anglican church, still attempting to recover from its moribund
situation following the war, carried the weight she implies. Moreover,
the Presbyterians, Baptists and Methodists had been ceded the field;
the proselytizing zeal of the Quakers had long passed, the Dutch and
German Reformed churches had never been anything by regional, more concerned
with language and culture than with creed and salvation. Apart from
the wonderfully vivid accounts of the Cane Ridge revival, I read much
of the record of revivals as activities or campaigns that were generated
by ministers in established churches attempting to attract new members
to church rolls depleted by western migration, rather than an unprecedented
religious fervor that swept the country. She does note that women were
the vast majority of those affected by the revival and reform movements
and credits the Second Great Awakening with bringing blacks, free and
slave, into the Protestant church, but neglects any discussion of the
significant impact of the African Methodist Episcopal church, for example,
in building black communities and opportunity. My conclusion: interesting
and stimulating, but unreliable in its interpretation of the major forces
of the period.
Jon Butler.
Becoming America: The Revolution before 1776. Cambridge: Harvard,
2000.
Butler argues that
there was a remarkable social and economic transformation in the American
colonies between 1680 and 1770: (1) they became ethnically and nationally
diverse, (2) they developed national and international economies, (3)
they displayed religious pluralism, (4) exhibited a modern penchant
for power over both humanity and nature that brooked few limitations
or questions about their propriety, and in government, (5) they looked
ahead to large-scale participatory politics. He details the many ways
in which the established Anglican and Congregational orthodoxies were
overrun by the new insistence on toleration and the expansion of religious
sects. His treatment of the destruction of African religious systems,
although brief, is exceptional. This book provides the best short summary
of the religious development of the colonies I have encountered.
Kevin Phillips.
The Cousins' Wars: Religion, Politics, and the Triumph of Anglo-America.
New York: Basic Books, 1999.
Although the ostensible subject is the English Civil War, the American
Revolution and our own Civil War, the underlying motif is the influence
of religion in determining the alignment of the opposing forces in those
conflicts. There is considerable demographic data here to buttress his
argument about the pervasive role of religion in eighteenth and nineteenth
century politics and the relentlessness of Puritanism in both England
and America. Phillips' thesis: "from the seventeenth century, the
English-speaking peoples on both continents defined themselves by wars
that upheld, at least for a while, a guiding political culture of a
Low Church, Calvinistic Protestantism, commercially adept, militantly
expansionist, and highly convinced . . . that it represented a chosen
people and a manifest destiny. In the full, three-century context, Cavaliers,
aristocrats, and bishops pretty much lost and Puritans, Yankees, self-made
entrepreneurs, Anglo-Saxon nationalists, and expansionists had the edge."
But he has much to say about declining elites, such as the Quakers during
the American Revolution, and the peace Germans, or Pietist sects, concentrated
largely in Pennsylvania. The content is greatly enhanced by a number
of exceptionally interesting thematic maps.
Graham Russell
Hodges. Slavery and Freedom in the Rural North: African Americans
in Monmouth County, New Jersey, 1665-1865. Madison House,
1997.
While researching the old churches of Hunterdon County I was astonished
to learn of the substantial slave population in the county even as late
as 1820. That there were slaves in the southern counties of the state
was less surprising, but the percentage of the population represented
by slaves in Somerset and Monmouth, for example, was a real eye-opener.
New Jersey's sympathies with the Southern cause and antipathy towards
Lincoln, and, especially, the Emancipation Proclamation have long been
known, of course, but the specific details gained by a close look at
events in a single county makes for fascinating reading. Hodges details
the relationships of Blacks and the Protestant churches, especially
in the 1830s, the period that saw the rise of the African Methodist
Episcopal Church in the state. Some of the histories have celebrated
the role of the Quakers and a few Presbyterian preachers in advocating
freedom (but not political and social equality) for Blacks, but Hodges
demonstrates that most of the freedoms came from efforts of the African
American population itself.
Troy Messenger.
Holy Leisure: Recreation and Religion in God's Square Mile.
Philadelhpia:
Temple University Press, 2000.
Ocean Grove was, along with the state of Utah, the country's oldest
theocracy. Under a charter granted in 1870, New Jersey's legislature
gave the Ocean Grove Camp Meeting of the Methodist Episcopal Church
full municipal powers over the square-mile township just south of Asbury
Park. Those powers were not revoked until court challenge in the 1970s.
This is an account of the beginnings of Ocean Grove in the revivals
and tent meetings of the nineteenth century; it takes the story to the
present day, where the beaches and stores still close when someone is
preaching in the Great Auditorium.
Firth Haring Fabend. Zion on the Hudson: Dutch New York
and New Jersey in the Age of Revivals. New Brunswick: Rutgers,
2001.
The cohesiveness of the Dutch Reformed Church in this area had less
to do with religion, although adherence to some of the doctrines and
practices was strong, than with the attempt to preserve the Dutch culture
and language in a colony increasingly English and Presbyterian in emphasis.
Those traditions held firm long after Dutch immigration had essentially
ended in the late 1660s. In many congregations, preaching was conducted
in Dutch in the morning and English in the afternoon well into the nineteenth
century, a practice also found in Lutheran and German Reformed churches,
where services in German were still common even fifty years after the
American Revolution. Ms Fabend draws on letters and church records,
among other sources, to describe in detail the influences of the Reformed
Church on daily lives, and to generalize about the corollaryhow
American culture ultimately overwhelmed the "Dutchness" of
the Reformed church.
Charles P. Cashdollar.
A Spiritual Home, Life in British and American Reformed Congregations,
1830-1915. Penn State University Press, 2000.
The subject is Presbyterian
churches (rather than Reformed), but the conclusions are broadly applicable
to mainstream Protestant churches in this country: in 1830, "a
congregation engaged in little except worship, pastoral care, and mission;
by 1900 a fully functioning church included sports teams, literary clubs
and organized groups of every sort." With the change in function,
the physical nature of the church had to adapt, which usually meant
a larger church, specialized rooms and considerably more comfort. The
author draws on a large number of churches, although none from New Jersey,
for his generalizations.
Peter W. Williams.
Houses of God: Region, Religion, and Architecture in the United
States.
Illinois, 1997.
Williams covers the entire US, and includes contemporary churches
as well as older ones. He raises many issues of the influence of region
and sect on design in his historical treatment of church architecture.
An indispensable place to begin a study of American church buildings.
Phoebe Stanton.
The Gothic Revival & American Church Architecture. Baltimore:
Johns Hopkins, 1968.
This classic book
offers an exceptional review of the rise of Gothic Revival in this county,
with many references to the design and construction of New Jersey churches,
including the Holy Innocents Chapel in Burlington, St. Mary's in Burlington,
St. Peter's in Spotswood, St. Marks in West Orange, Trinity in Matawan,
and St. Stephen's in Milburn. The discussion of regional architects
and their influence is a little too limited, but helpful, nevertheless.