By Keith Seminerio
When you think of the word “gargoyle,” visions of bizarre and whimsical stone monsters precariously clinging to the outside walls of medieval European cathedrals may be conjured in your mind.
Although you wouldn’t be wrong, authentic gargoyles do exist right under, er…above, our noses here in Morristown.
Before we go any further, one distinction must be made. There are gargoyles, and there are grotesques, and most of the time people are referring to grotesques as gargoyles.
Let me explain. Gargoyles have a functional purpose; they are essentially elaborate water spouts designed to siphon rainwater away from a building’s walls. The name comes from the Old French word gargouille meaning “throat”—the water flowing through the “throat” of the gargoyle and out of its mouth.
Grotesques may be similar in appearance to gargoyles, but they are simply fixed statues attached to a building’s walls or roof and have no practical function.
However, symbolically, both have the same purposes. The original idea to use frightening or disturbing figures no doubt began with old churches, but there is some debate as to the exact purpose.
One widely-agreed-upon thought is that they are meant to be benevolent figures taking on a sinister appearance in order to scare away other evil, undesirable spirits. (Indeed, this is why the pre-Halloween tradition of wearing frightening costumes came to be.)
Another belief is that they represent evil, which is why they are on the exterior of churches, unable to enter through the hallowed doors of the church, while inside there is holy, beautiful, and sacred statuary.
A third theory is that they simply are there to frighten citizens into attending church, which is why they are placed up high in a conspicuous spot. A kind of “Go to church or you’ll end up in the bowels of hell with us!” message.
Whatever the case may be, it can’t be debated that gargoyles and grotesques are a striking architectural design feature. Which brings us to where you can see these centuries-old gothic beauties in Morristown.
The first of two places is the exterior of the Assumption Church rectory on Maple Avenue. This structure features eight statues—two grotesques and six gargoyles.
The two grotesques are wonderful, rust-colored terra-cotta dragons.
One is perched on the point of the highest sloping roof while the other resides on a slightly lower roof. Both have outstretched wings and appear to be in the midst of roaring down upon the town.
The six cement gargoyles are located at the top of a hexagonal portion of the rectory directly under what look like battlements on a tower.
(Technically, they would be considered grotesques as well, since they don’t appear to be functional water spouts. But clearly they were designed in the classic gargoyle style and placed where they would have been, so I’ll refer to them as such here).
At first glance, they all look to be identical. But upon further investigation, each is unique. A couple are cat-like, one almost dog-like, and a couple, humanoid.
Each juts out like it’s peering at a specific object or person somewhere on the block. The odd thing, however, is that although the rectory has eight of these statues, the church next door doesn’t have any.
Waking around the corner, to the Morristown and Morris Township Public Library, you can encounter distant cousins of the Assumption gargoyles, these of the interior variety.
Upon entering the Gothic Revival building, head to the rarely-visited Biographies section. This small area is located up a discreet staircase in the old, original 1917 wing. Since this is perhaps the least-visited corner of the library, it is also the least-updated; the old-school bookshelves and books instantly transport the patron back to sometime in the late, pre-internet 20th Century.
But it’s not the lonely, time capsule-like appearance that stands out as the most unusual aspect. If you look up to where the walls meet the low ceiling, strange visages stare down among the forlorn aisles.
Large, mustachioed faces with large, looping ears and four-leaf clover earrings—about a half dozen of them. I don’t know what exactly their significance is, or why they’re in only this small section. But I do know they can make a run-of-the-mill trip to the library a little more interesting.
So as we enter this Halloween season, why not embark on a gargoyle hunt of your own?
Keith Seminerio lives in Morristown with his wife and three children. He enjoys history, the outdoors, and exploring anything offbeat or unusual. He is a teacher in Chatham, and a frequent contributor to Weird NJ.
