COLONIAL DOORWAYS
No type of architecture to-day holds such a distinctive place in the
minds of architects and home builders as does that of the colonial
period. This is especially true concerning the porch or doorway, for
this feature, affording as it does entrance to the home, called for most
careful thought, that it might be made harmonious and artistic, and
expressive of the sentiment which it embodies. The straight lines and
ample dimensions which characterized it required skill to arrange
properly, and, considering the limitations of the period in which it was
constructed, the results obtained were remarkable.
These porches and doorways were designed at a time when our country was
young, and the builders were not finished architects like the designers
of to-day; but they were planned and built by men who were masters in
their line, and who taxed their skill to the utmost that results might
be artistic and varied, individualizing each home so that the entrance
porch should express both hospitality and refinement.
In the holds of the cumbersome ships that plied between the new country
and the motherland were placed as cargoes, pillars, columns, and bits of
shaped wood, all to be used in the construction of the new home, and
incidentally in the porch. It was no easy task to devise from these
fragments a complete and artistic whole, and to the ingenuity of the
builders great credit is due.
In contour and construction, these porches differ greatly. Those found
in New England depict a stateliness that savors of Puritanical
influence, while those in the South convey, through their breadth, an
impression of the cordiality which is characteristic of that section.
Some are semicircular, others square; a few are oblong, and some are
three-cornered, fitting into two sides of the entrance, and in each case
giving to the dwelling a congruous appearance that is refreshing to
contemplate in an age like ours, when so many different periods are
combined in a finished whole.
All these porches show a harmony of form and proportion that gives just
the right effect, and many are embellished by wonderful wood carving.
The Grecian column, in its many forms, lends itself in a great degree
to artistic effects, often bestowing an originality of finish that is
most pleasing, and one that differs in every respect from the modern
broad veranda, and the stately porte-cochere.
The art of hand carving reached its highest state of perfection about
the year 1811, during which period the best types of porches were
erected. The results are shown not only in the capitals of the columns
and on the architrave, but on the pediments and over the entrance door
as well. A good example of the decoration of the architrave is seen on
the old Assembly House on Federal Street, in Salem, Massachusetts, where
the carving takes the form of a grapevine, with bunches of the hanging
fruit, and also over the door of the Kimball house, in the same city,
where Samuel McIntyre, one of the most noted wood carvers, lived.
It can be well and correctly said that the colonial porch embodied not
only the characteristics of the period in which it was built, but the
personality of the owner as well. Should the unobservant person feel
that this statement is far-fetched, let him take a stroll through some
tree-shaded street of an old New England village, and the truth of the
assertion is readily revealed. Though the house itself may be old and
battered, and fast falling into decay, yet the porch greets one with a
simple welcome that breathes of former hospitality, and, in admiration
of this feature, the shabbiness of the rest of the exterior sinks into
oblivion.
Broadly speaking, porches are divided into three types or classes. The
first belong to the period beginning with the year 1745 and continuing
until the year 1785, a space of time marked by stirring events,
culminating in the Revolutionary War, and the birth of the new republic.
Houses of this period are of the gambrel-roofed type. The second class
adorn the succeeding type of dwelling,--the large, square, colonial
house, built by the merchant prince, whose ships circumnavigated the
globe, and who filled his home with foreign treasures; while the third
type is that which ornamented the brick mansion which came into vogue
about 1818. As many of these were erected during the commercial period,
they cannot, strictly speaking, be called colonial; they belong rather
to the Washingtonian time, and reflect in their construction the
gracious hospitality of that day.
Porches of varied colonial types are found in most of the New England
cities and towns, in the Middle States, and in the South, and
particularly fine examples can be seen in Salem, Massachusetts. There
is about all of these a dignity and refinement that is unmistakable,
bespeaking a culture that is felt at once, and a stranger wandering
through Salem's streets cannot help but be impressed with the fact.
Adorning the three-storied houses with their flat roofs, they give an
artistic touch to what would otherwise be plain exteriors. From step to
knocker, from leaded glass to the arched or square roof of the doorway,
there is a plainness and simplicity which betokens art, but of such a
quiet, unpretentious type that by the untrained eye it is hardly
appreciated, though to the architect it brings inspiration and affords
study for classic detail, the result of which is shown in the modified
colonial homes of to-day.
Romance and history are strangely intermingled in these old-time porches
and doorways. Under their stately portals has passed many a colonial
lover, doffing his cocked hat to his lady fair, who, with silken gown,
powdered hair and patches, sat at the window awaiting his coming. Those
were Salem's halcyon days, when the tide of life ebbed and flowed in
uneventful harmony, free from the disturbing elements of latter-day
life.
To attempt even a brief description of each and every doorway would be a
herculean task. Rather, it is better to depict the different types,
studying with critical eye the various examples. One is the semicircular
entrance, with its rounded front, a type shown in many a New England
home. The Andrew porch, numbered among the finest in the city, belongs
to this class. Under this doorway passed the late war governor, John
Andrew, during visits to his uncle, John Andrew, builder of the
dwelling, that he always coveted for his own. The dwelling was one of
three built in 1818 on three sides of a training field, which is now the
Common. The fine elm trees that characterize the Common were planted in
the same year. The other two houses were the John Forrester dwelling and
the Nathaniel Silsbee house. The Andrew porch shows straight columns,
and a roof topped with a balustrade; the simplicity of outline renders
it most attractive.
[Illustration: PLATE VI.--Gardiner House Doorway, 1804.]
Another porch of the same type is that of the John Gardiner house on
Essex Street, built in 1804. Here is an entrance considered by good
judges of architecture to be one of the best examples of its type,
characterized by perfect symmetry of outline. Numbered among its
features are quaint indentations in the door head. This dwelling was
formerly the home of Captain Joseph White, one of the worthy and noted
Salem merchants. Other porches of similar contour, though differently
ornamented, are to be found on Chestnut Street.
[Illustration: PLATE VII.--Nathan Robinson House Doorway, 1804.]
It is only when one carefully studies doorways such as these,
contrasting them with latter-day porches, which are often little more
than holes in the wall, fitted with a cheap framing and entirely out of
keeping with the exterior, that their worth is viewed in the true light,
and the opportunity to turn to the old-time types for inspiration is
appreciated.
Perhaps the most Puritanical of all the doorways are the simple narrow
ones that generally stand at one side of the house, although sometimes
they are used as the main entrance. These show either fluted side
pilasters, or severely plain columns, surmounted by a pediment. The door
is always dark in coloring, trimmed with a polished brass knocker and
often with a brass latch.
One of the most elaborate of these is that of the dwelling known as the
Cabot house on Essex Street. This house was designed in 1745 by an
English architect for Joseph Choate, and later came into the possession
of Joseph Cabot.
Another notable entrance is that of the Lord house on Washington
Square. This is a side entrance, and is said to be one of the finest of
its type in Salem. This house was at one time occupied by Stephen White,
a man of worth, who was falsely accused of the murder of his uncle, and
who engaged as counsel Daniel Webster. While this case was in progress,
Webster brought his son, Fletcher, to the White home, where he met and
fell in love with the daughter of the house, later making her his bride.
Thus were romance and law strangely intermingled! The house was
afterwards the home of Nathaniel Lord, one of the most brilliant jurists
of his time.
The inclosed porch is another phase of old Salem doorways. There are
several interesting examples of this type still to be seen here, perhaps
the most noted being the one on Charter Street, on a three-story, wooden
building, about a century and a half old, low of stud, with square
front, standing directly on a shabby little by-street, and cornered in a
graveyard. This porch, inclosing the entrance door, is lighted by small,
oval windows, one on either side, affording glimpses up and down the
street. It has been graphically described by a silent, dark-browed man,
who, with two women, came to the dwelling in the dusk of an evening in
1838, and, lifting the old-time knocker, announced his arrival. The door
was opened by Elizabeth Peabody, who graciously admitted Nathaniel
Hawthorne and his sisters, showed them into the parlor, and then ran
up-stairs to tell her sister Sophia of the handsome young man--handsomer
than Lord Byron--who had just arrived. As the door closed behind him
that evening, Hawthorne shut out forever the dreary solitude of his
life, and we read that he came again and again to the old home, where he
played the principal part in one of the most idyllic of courtships,
ending in his marriage two years later with the fair Sophia. This
dwelling he made the scene of _Dr. Grimshawe's Secret_, and the old
porch has taken on a dignity and historic interest that will live
forever.
But perhaps one loves to dwell longest on the doorway of the Assembly
House on Federal Street, for it is full of vivid memories. It is an
oddly shaped porch, beautifully carved, and under its portals the
daughters of Salem's merchant princes passed, holding in their slender
hands the skirts of their silken gowns, as they gayly mounted the broad
stone steps. On the evening of October 29, 1784, Lafayette was
entertained in this old home, and five years later, Washington, who had
just been inaugurated as the first President of the United States, came
here. Concerning his visit, he wrote in his diary: "Between 7 and 8 I
went to an Assembly, where there were at least a hundred handsome young
ladies." With one of these, the daughter of General Abbot, Washington
opened the ball, and for her later, as he did not dance, he secured as a
partner General Knox.
Other types of porches still seen in Salem include the Dutch porch,
quaint and comely in its construction, an excellent example of which is
seen on the Whipple house on Andover Street, while surrounding the
Common on Washington Square are many rare and picturesque porches of
various dates of erection.
Considered by experts to excel them all is the porch that adorns the
Pierce-Jahonnot house on Federal Street. This dwelling was erected by
Mr. Pierce, of Pierce and Waitte, merchants, in the year 1782, and
beside the main entrance it boasts a fine example of the narrow doorway
at one side. In the early spring, crocuses clustering about the base of
the porch add a touch that is decorative and charming, and the
box-bordered garden beds, just in front, filled with masses of pure
white bloom, complete a wholly delightful setting. There is about this
particular doorway a touch of sentiment felt by every Salemite. It is a
piece of architecture of which any one might feel proud, and in its
beauty and dignity it stands distinctive in the midst of many fine bits.
It is the Mecca of architects, who delight in the exquisite blending of
doorway and entrance.
There is a touch of the old Witchcraft Days connected with a doorway at
Number 23 Summer Street, that resembles in type the one immortalized by
Hawthorne. More than two hundred years ago, this porch was the site of
an event that culminated in tragedy. Bridget Bishop, the first victim of
the terrible delusion of 1692, kept a tavern here, and in her gay
light-heartedness, she scorned the dictates of the church and insisted
upon wearing on Sabbath Day a black hat and a red paragon bodice,
bordered and looped with different colors. Her boldness in defying the
rigid doctrines made the dignitaries suspicious of her, and at her
trial, when one witness told of meeting her before the site of the
present doorway where his horse stopped, and the buggy he was driving
flew to pieces,--she of course having bewitched it,--was condemned to
death.
Individual types found throughout the city show a variety of
construction and ornamentation, and many of these are most unique,
although they do not belong to any special period. Prominent among these
is the Pineapple doorway on Brown Street Court, an excellently
proportioned and finely adorned entrance, which, through the remoteness
of its location, is rarely seen by tourists. The dwelling of which it is
a part was built in 1750 by Captain Thomas Poynton, and this feature,
unlike the old Benjamin Pickman porch on Essex Street, which shows a
codfish, has nothing about it suggestive of New England. The pineapple,
which is set in a broken pediment, was brought over from England in one
of the captain's own ships, and in the days of his occupancy it was kept
brightly gilded, its leaves painted green.
Many of the doorways show an innovation in the presence of the climbing
vine, which winds its tendrils about the pillar supports, emphasizing
their beauty. It is not definitely known whether the early owners
encouraged the vine-covered porch or not, but they probably did, as they
delighted in the vine-covered summer-house, which was a feature of
nearly every old-time garden.
While Salem may hold a prominent rank in attractive porches, many fine
examples are to be found in Philadelphia, and though these specimens
differ radically in design, they are most attractive. One is to be seen
on Independence Hall on Chestnut Street, while others are found on
churches and houses.
These doorways illustrate a phase of architectural construction totally
different from the porches of New England and those of the South, yet
they combine features of the other types, while at the same time
displaying a certain definite style of their own which gives to them as
great distinctiveness as characterizes Salem porches.
If the twentieth-century architect desires studies of truly attractive
doorways, the seaport towns of New England will afford him excellent
models. There is enough variety here in porches which are still
preserved to give him any number of models from which to devise an
entrance that will serve its purpose in every sense of the word.
For the home builder, it will not be amiss to carefully consider the
best type of porch before he goes to the architect to develop his plans;
he can be assured that study will develop ideas that will give to his
home an individuality that will embody his ideas and personality.