THE ARCHITECTURE OF LEON BATISTA ALBERTI IN TEN BOOKS
Printed by Edward Owen
London 1755
THE
Our Ance&longs;tors have left us many and various Arts tending to the Plea&longs;ure and
Conveniency of Life, acquired with the greate&longs;t Indu&longs;try and Diligence:
Which Arts, though they all pretend, with a Kind of Emulation, to have in
View the great End of being &longs;erviceable to Mankind; yet we know that each
of them in particular has &longs;omething in it that &longs;eems to promi&longs;e a di&longs;tinct and
&longs;eparate Fruit: Some Arts we follow for Nece&longs;&longs;ity, &longs;ome we approve for their
U&longs;efulne&longs;s, and &longs;ome we e&longs;teem becau&longs;e they lead us to the Knowledge of Things that are de
light&longs;ul. What the&longs;e Arts are, it is not nece&longs;&longs;ary for me to enumerate; for they are obvious.
But if you take a View of the whole Circle of Arts, you &longs;hall hardly find one but what, de&longs;pi&longs;
ing all others, regards and &longs;eeks only its own particular Ends: Or if you do meet with any of
&longs;uch a Nature that you can in no wi&longs;e do without it, and which yet brings along with it Pro
&longs;it at the &longs;ame Time, conjoined with Plea&longs;ure and Honour, you will, I believe, be convinced,
that Architecture is not to be excluded from that Number. For it is certain, if you examine
the Matter carefully, it is inexpre&longs;&longs;ibly delightful, and of the greate&longs;t Convenience to Mankind
in all Re&longs;pects, both publick and private; and in Dignity not inferior to the mo&longs;t excellent. But
before I proceed further, it will not be improper to explain what he is that I allow to be an
Architect: For it is not a Carpenter or a Joiner that I thus rank with the greate&longs;t Ma&longs;ters in
other Sciences; the manual Operator being no more than an In&longs;trument to the Architect. Him I call an Architect, who, by &longs;ure and wonderful Art and Method, is able, both with
Thought and Invention, to devi&longs;e, and, with Execution, to compleat all tho&longs;e Works, which,
by means of the Movement of great Weights, and the Conjunction and Ama&longs;&longs;ment of Bodies,
can, with the greate&longs;t Beauty, be adapted to the U&longs;es of Mankind: And to be able to do this,
he mu&longs;t have a thorough In&longs;ight into the noble&longs;t and mo&longs;t curious Sciences. Such mu&longs;t be the
Architect. But to return.
SOME have been of Opinion, that either Water or Fire were the principal Occa&longs;ions of bring
ing Men together into Societies; but to us, who con&longs;ider the U&longs;efulne&longs;s and Nece&longs;&longs;ity of Co
verings and Walls, it &longs;eems evident, that they were the chief Cau&longs;es of a&longs;&longs;embling Men toge
ther. But the only Obligation we have to the Architect is not for his providing us with &longs;afe
and plea&longs;ant Places, where we may &longs;helter our&longs;elves from the Heat of the Sun, from Cold and
Tempe&longs;t, (though this is no &longs;mall Benefit); but for having be&longs;ides contrived many other
Things, both of a private and publick Nature of the highe&longs;t U&longs;e and Convenience to the Life
of Man. How many noble Families, reduced by the Calamity of the Times, had been utterly
lo&longs;t, both in our own native City, and in others, had not their paternal Habitations pre&longs;erved
and cheri&longs;hed them, as it were, in the Bo&longs;om of their Forefathers.
greatly e&longs;teemed for having made the
a Vapour, as provoked a plentiful Sweat, and thereby cured their Di&longs;tempers with great Ea&longs;e
and Plea&longs;ure. Why need I mention others who have contrived many Things of the like Sort
conducive to Health; as Places for Exerci&longs;e, for Swimming, Baths and the like? Or why
&longs;hould I in&longs;tance in Vehicles, Mills, Time-mea&longs;ures, and other &longs;uch minute Things, which
neverthele&longs;s are of great U&longs;e in Life? Why &longs;hould I in&longs;i&longs;t upon the great Plenty of Waters
brought from the mo&longs;t remote and hidden Places, and employed to &longs;o many different and u&longs;e
ful Purpo&longs;es? Upon Trophies, Tabernacles, &longs;acred Edifices, Churches and the like, adapted
Or la&longs;tly, why &longs;hould I mention the Rocks
cut, Mountains bored through, Vallies filled up, Lakes confined, Mar&longs;hes di&longs;charged into the
Sea, Ships built, Rivers turned, their Mouths cleared, Bridges laid over them, Harbours formed,
not only &longs;erving to Men's immediate Conveniencies, but al&longs;o opening them a Way to all Parts
of the World; whereby Men have been enabled mutually to furni&longs;h one another with Provi&longs;i
ons, Spices, Gems, and to communicate their Knowledge, and whatever el&longs;e is healthful or
plea&longs;urable. Add to the&longs;e the Engines and Machines of War, Fortre&longs;&longs;es, and the like Inventi
ons nece&longs;&longs;ary to the Defending the Liberty of our Country, Maintaining the Honour, and En
crea&longs;ing the Greatne&longs;s of a City, and to the Acqui&longs;ition and E&longs;tabli&longs;hment of an Empire. I
am really per&longs;uaded, that if we were to enquire of all the Cities which, within the Memory of
Man, have fallen by Siege into the Power of new Ma&longs;ters, who it was that &longs;ubjected and over
came them, they would tell you, the Architect; and that they were &longs;trong enough to have
de&longs;pi&longs;ed the armed Enemy, but not to with&longs;tand the Shocks of the Engines, the Violence of
the Machines, and the Force of the other In&longs;truments of War, with which the Architect di&longs;
tre&longs;&longs;ed, demoli&longs;hed and ruinated them. And the Be&longs;ieged, on the contrary, would inform
you, that their greate&longs;t Defence lay in the Art and A&longs;&longs;i&longs;tance of the Architect. And if you
were to examine into the Expeditions that have been undertaken, you would go near to find
that mo&longs;t of the Victories were gained more by the Art and Skill of the Architects, than by the
Conduct or Fortune of the Generals; and that the Enemy was oftener overcome and conquered
by the Architect's Wit, without the Captain's Arms, than by the Captain's Arms without the
Architect's Wit: And what is of great Con&longs;equence is, that the Architect conquers with a
&longs;mall Number of Men, and without the Lo&longs;s of Troops. Let this &longs;uffice as to the U&longs;efulne&longs;s
of this Art.
BUT how much the Study and Subject of Building delights, and how firmly it is rooted in
the Mind of Man, appears from &longs;everal In&longs;tances, and particularly from this; that you &longs;hall
find no body who has the Means but what has an Inclination to be building &longs;omething: And
if a Man has happened to think of any Thing new in Architecture, he is &longs;ond of communicat
ing and divulging it for the U&longs;e of others, as if con&longs;trained thereto by Nature. And how o&longs;ten
does it fall out, that even when we are employed upon other Things, we cannot keep our
Thoughts and Imaginations, from Projecting &longs;ome Edi&longs;ice? And when we &longs;ee other Men's
Hou&longs;es, we immediately &longs;et about a careful Examination of all the Proportions and Dimen&longs;ions,
and, to the be&longs;t of our Ability, con&longs;ider what might be added, retrenched or altered; and pre
&longs;ently give our Opinions how it might be made more compleat or beautiful. And if a Build
ing be well laid out, and ju&longs;tly fini&longs;hed, who is he that does not view it with the utmo&longs;t Plea
&longs;ure and Delight? But why need I mention not only how much Benefit and Delight, but how
much Glory to Architecture has brought to Nations, which have cultivated it both at home
and abroad? Who that has built any publick Edifice does not think him&longs;elf honoured by it,
when it is reputable to a Man only to have built a hand&longs;ome Habitation for him&longs;elf? Men of
publick Spirits approve and rejoice when you have rai&longs;ed a fine Wall or Portico, and adorned
it with Portals, Columns, and a hand&longs;ome Roof, knowing you have thereby not only &longs;erved
your&longs;elf, but them too, having by this generous U&longs;e of your Wealth, gained an Addition of
great Honour to your&longs;elf, your Family, your De&longs;cendants, and your City. The Sepulchre of
re&longs;pected for the Oracle of
the Temple. How much Authority accrued to the
Buildings, I &longs;hall dwell upon no further, than that the Sepulchres and other Remains of the
ancient Magnificence, every where to be found, are a great Inducement and Argument with us
for believing many Things related by Hi&longs;torians, which might otherwi&longs;e have &longs;eemed incredible.
with all Sorts of fine Structures, that their Power thereby appeared to be much greater than it
really was. And what potent or wi&longs;e Prince can be named, that among his chief Projects for
eternizing his Name and Po&longs;terity, did not make U&longs;e of Architecture. But of this enough.
The Conclu&longs;ion is, that for the Service, Security, Honour and Ornament of the Publick, we
are exceedingly obliged to the Architect; to whom, in Time of Lei&longs;ure, we are indebted for
&longs;or Security and Dignity. Let us not therefore deny that he ought to be prai&longs;ed and e&longs;teemed,
and to be allowed a Place, both for the wonderful and ravi&longs;hing Beauty of his Works, and for
the Nece&longs;&longs;ity, Serviceablene&longs;s, and Strength of the Things which he has invented, among the
Chief of tho&longs;e who have de&longs;erved Honour and Rewards from Mankind. The Con&longs;ideration of
the&longs;e Things induced me, for my Diver&longs;ion, to look a little further into this Art and its Ope
rations, from what Principles it was derived, and of what Parts it con&longs;i&longs;ted: And finding them
of various Kinds, in Number almo&longs;t infinite, in their Nature marvellous, of U&longs;e incredible, in
&longs;omuch that it was doubtful what Condition of Men, or what Part of the Commonwealth, or
what Degree in the City, whether the Publick or Private, Things &longs;acred or profane, Repo&longs;e or
Labour, the Individual or the whole human Species, was mo&longs;t obliged to the Architect, or
rather Inventor of all Conveniencies; I re&longs;olved, for &longs;everal Rea&longs;ons, too tedious here to re
peat, to collect all tho&longs;e Things which are contained in the&longs;e Ten Books. In treating of which,
we &longs;hall ob&longs;erve this Method: We con&longs;ider that an Edi&longs;ice is a Kind of Body con&longs;i&longs;ting, like
all other Bodies, of De&longs;ign and of Matter; the fir&longs;t is produced by the Thought, the other by
Nature; &longs;o that the one is to be provided by the Application and Contrivance of the Mind,
and the other by due Preparation and Choice. And we further reflected, that neither the one
nor the other of it&longs;elf was &longs;ufficient, without the Hand of an experienced Artificer, that knew
how to form his Materials after a ju&longs;t De&longs;ign. And the U&longs;e of Edi&longs;ices being various, it was
nece&longs;&longs;ary to enquire whether one and the &longs;ame Kind of De&longs;ign was fit for all Sorts of Buildings;
upon which Account we have di&longs;tingui&longs;hed the &longs;everal Kinds of Buildings: Wherein perceiv
ing that the main Point was the ju&longs;t Compo&longs;ition and Relation of the Lines among them&longs;elves,
from whence ari&longs;es the Height of Beauty, I therefore began to examine what Beauty really was,
and what Sort of Beauty was proper to each Edifice. And as we often meet with Faults in all
the&longs;e Re&longs;pects, I con&longs;idered how they might be altered or amended. Every Book therefore
has its Title prefixed to it, according to the Variety of the Subject: The Fir&longs;t treats of De&longs;igns;
the Second, of Materials; the Third, of the Work; the Fourth, of Works in general; the
Fifth, of Works in particular; the Sixth, of Ornaments in general; the Seventh, of the Orna
ments proper for &longs;acred Edifices; the Eighth, of tho&longs;e for publick and profane ones; The
Ninth, of tho&longs;e for the Hou&longs;es of private Per&longs;ons; the Tenth, of Amendments and Alterations
in Buildings: To which is added, a various Hi&longs;tory of Waters, and how they are found, and
what U&longs;e is to be made of the Architect in all the&longs;e Works: As al&longs;o Four other Books, Three of
which treat of the Art of Painting; and the Fourth, of Sculpture.
The TABLE of CONTENTS.
BOOK I.
CHAP. I.
CHAP. II.
of how many Parts the Art of Building con&longs;i&longs;ts, and
what is nece&longs;&longs;ary to each of tho&longs;e Parts.
CHAP. III.
Sun and Winds which affect the Air.
CHAP. IV.
ous for Building.
CHAP. V.
know the Goodne&longs;s of the Region.
CHAP. VI.
encies of the Region which a wi&longs;e Man ought to enquire
into.
CHAP. VII.
Sorts of Lines.
CHAP. VIII.
Figures, and which are the mo&longs;t &longs;erviceable and la&longs;ting.
CHAP. IX.
Building.
CHAP. X.
tions relating to the Columns.
CHAP. XI.
to the Inhabitants and the other Parts of the Building,
and that being various in their Natures, they mu&longs;t be
made of various Sorts.
CHAP. XII.
&longs;ay, of the Windows and Doors, and of tho&longs;e which do
not take up the whole Thickne&longs;s of the Wall, and their
Number and Sizes.
CHAP. XIII.
of Steps of the Stairs which ought to be in odd Numbers,
and how many. Of the Re&longs;ting-places, of the Tunnels
for carrying away the Smoke. Of Pipes and Conduits
for carrying off the Water, and of the proper placing of
Wells and Sinks.
BOOK II.
CHAP. I.
That no Man
ought to begin a Building ha&longs;tily, but &longs;hould
fir&longs;t take a good deal of Time to con&longs;ider, and revolve in
his Mind all the Qualities and Requi&longs;ites of &longs;uch a Work:
And that he &longs;hould carefully review and examine, with
the Advice of proper Judges, the whole Structure in it
&longs;elf, and the Proportions and Mea&longs;ures of every di&longs;tinct
Part, not only in Draughts or Paintings, but in actual
Models of Wood or &longs;ome other Sub&longs;tance, that when he
has fini&longs;hed his Building, he may not repent of his Labour.
CHAP. II.
Abilities, nor &longs;trive again&longs;t Nature, and that we ought
al&longs;o not only to con&longs;ider what we can do, but what is fit
for us to do, and in what Place it is that we are to build.
CHAP. III.
of the Building in all the Parts of the Model, we ought
to take the Advice of prudent and under&longs;tanding Men,
and before we begin our Work, it will not only be proper
to know how to rai&longs;e Money for the Expence, but al&longs;o
long before-hand to provide all the Materials for com
pleating &longs;uch an Undertaking.
CHAP. IV.
Building, what Workmen to be cho&longs;e, and in what Sea
&longs;ons, according to the Opinions of the Ancients, to cut
Timber.
CHAP. V.
what to plai&longs;ter or anoint them with, of the Remedies
again&longs;t their Infirmities, and of allotting them their pro
per Places in the Building.
CHAP. VI.
their Nature and U&longs;es, how they are to be employed, and
in what Part of the Edifice each Kind is mo&longs;t fit for.
CHAP. VII.
CHAP. VIII.
dug, and when u&longs;ed; which are the &longs;ofte&longs;t and which
the harde&longs;t, and which be&longs;t and mo&longs;t durable.
CHAP. IX.
Stones, left us by the Ancients.
CHAP. X.
Sea&longs;on they ought to be made, and in what Shapes, their
different Sorts, and the U&longs;efulne&longs;s of triangular ones;
and briefly, of all other Works made of baked Earth.
CHAP. XI.
they differ, and of &longs;ome Things not unworthy of Memory.
CHAP. XII.
various Materials u&longs;ed in Building in different Places.
CHAP. XIII.
&longs;ons is of any U&longs;e in beginning a Building; what Sea
&longs;on is mo&longs;t convenient; as al&longs;o, with what Auguries or
Prayers we ought to &longs;et out upon our Work.
BOOK III.
CHAP. I.
Wherein lies the Bu&longs;ine&longs;s of
the Work; the different Parts of the Walls,
and what they require. That the Foundation is no Part
of the Wall; what Soil makes the be&longs;t Foundation.
CHAP. II.
with Lines; and by what Tokens we may know the
Goodne&longs;s of the Ground.
CHAP. III.
therefore we ought not to tru&longs;t any Place too ha&longs;tily, till
we have fir&longs;t dug Wells or Re&longs;ervoirs; but that in mar&longs;hy
Places we mu&longs;t make our Foundation with Piles burnt
at the Ends, and driven in with their Heads downward
with light Beetles, and many repeated Blows, till they
are driven quite in to the Head.
CHAP. IV.
and of the Tempering of Mortar.
CHAP. V.
ing to the Precepts and Example of the Ancients.
CHAP. VI.
thick Walls from the Bottom to the Top, the Difference
between the Wall and the Foundation: The principal
Parts of the Wall; the three Methods of Wailing; the
Materials and Form of the fir&longs;t Cour&longs;e or Layer.
CHAP. VII.
to be di&longs;po&longs;ed and joined together, as al&longs;o, which are the
&longs;tronge&longs;t and which the weake&longs;t.
CHAP. VIII.
the Stuffing, and their different Sorts.
CHAP. IX.
Fortification of the Cornices, and how to unite &longs;everal
Stones for the Strengthening of the Wall.
CHAP. X.
and of the Agreement there is between Stone and Sand.
CHAP. XI.
of Plai&longs;tering, of Cramps, and how to pre&longs;erve them;
Methods to prevent the Mi&longs;chiefs of Lightning.
CHAP. XII.
and Rafters, and of the uniting the Ribs.
CHAP. XIII.
Arches, their Difference and Con&longs;truction, and how to
&longs;et the Stones in an Arch.
CHAP. XIV.
they differ; of what Lines they are compo&longs;ed, and the
Method of letting them &longs;ettle.
CHAP. XV.
ne&longs;s; the different Sorts and Shapes of Tiles, and what
to make them of.
CHAP. XVI.
Pliny
and of the proper Sea&longs;ons for beginning, and fini&longs;hing
the &longs;everal Parts of Building.
BOOK IV.
CHAP. I.
That all
Buildings, whether contrived for Nece&longs;&longs;ity,
Conveniency, or Plea&longs;ure, were intended for the Service
of Mankind. Of the &longs;everal Divi&longs;ions of human Condi
tions, whence ari&longs;es the Diver&longs;ity of Buildings.
CHAP. II.
Inconveniencies of a Situation for a City, according to
the Opinion of the Ancients, and that of the Author.
CHAP. III.
of the Form and Di&longs;po&longs;ition of the Walls and Fortifica
tions, and of the Cu&longs;toms and Ceremonies ob&longs;erved by the
Ancients in making them out.
CHAP. IV.
Gates, and the Timber-work belonging to them.
CHAP. V.
great military Ways, and private Ways.
CHAP. VI.
per Situation, their Piers, Arches, Angles, Feet, Key
&longs;tones, Cramps, Pavements, and Slopes.
CHAP. VII.
and U&longs;es; and of Rivers and Canals for Ships.
CHAP. VIII.
of making convenient Squares in the City.
BOOK V.
CHAP. I.
Of the
Ca&longs;tles or Habitations of a King, or others;
their different Properties and Parts.
CHAP. II.
Stairs, Lobbies, Apertures, Back-doors, concealed Pa&longs;&longs;
ages and private Apartments; and wherein the Hou&longs;es
of Princes differ from tho&longs;e of private Men; as al&longs;o of
the &longs;eparate and common Apartments for the Prince
and his Spou&longs;e.
CHAP. III.
both for Summer and Winter, Watch-Towers and of the
Difference between the Ca&longs;tle for a Tyrant, and the
Palace for a King.
CHAP. IV.
tification of a Fortre&longs;s, whether in a Plain, or upon a
Hill, its Inclo&longs;ure, Area, Walls, Ditches, Bridges, and
Towers.
CHAP. V.
are to &longs;tand either to keep centinel, or to fight. Of the
covering Roof of the Fortre&longs;s, and in what Manner it
is to be made &longs;trong, and of the other Conveniencies ne
ce&longs;&longs;ary in the Ca&longs;tle either of a King or a Tyrant.
CHAP. VI.
con&longs;i&longs;ts. The proper Situation and Building for the
Hou&longs;es of tho&longs;e that govern the Republick, and of the
Prie&longs;ts. Of Temples as well large as &longs;inall, Chapels
and Oratories.
CHAP. VII.
Duty of the Prie&longs;t; the various Sorts of Cloy&longs;iers and
their proper Situation.
CHAP. VIII.
Ho&longs;pitals both for Men and Women.
CHAP. IX.
bunals for the Admini&longs;tration of Ju&longs;tice.
CHAP. X.
by Land are of three Sorts; in what Manner they are
to be fortified; and the various Methods u&longs;ed by diffe
rent Nations.
CHAP. XI.
and its Size, Form and various Parts; together with
the different Methods of attacking and defending a Camp
or other Fortification.
CHAP. XII.
are Fleets; of Ships and their Parts; as al&longs;o of Havens
and their proper Fortification.
CHAP. XIII.
Receivers and the like Magi&longs;trates, who&longs;e Bu&longs;ine&longs;s is to
&longs;upply and pre&longs;ide over the publick Granaries, Chambers
of Accounts, Ar&longs;enals, Marts, Docks and Stables; as
al&longs;o of the three Sorts of Pri&longs;ons, their Structures, Situ
ations, and Compartitions.
CHAP. XIV.
as al&longs;o of the Country Hou&longs;e, and the Rules to be ob&longs;erved
in its Situation and Structure.
CHAP. XV.
proper Di&longs;po&longs;ition of all their Members whether for the
Lodging of Men, Animals, or Tools for Agriculture
and other nece&longs;&longs;ary In&longs;truments,
CHAP. XVI.
ought to be employed as well about all Sorts of Animals,
as about the Fruits of the Earth; as al&longs;o of the Con
&longs;truction of the Thre&longs;hing-floor.
CHAP. XVII.
its various Parts, and the proper Di&longs;po&longs;ition of each of
tho&longs;e Parts.
CHAP. XVIII.
and Town Hou&longs;e for the Rich. The Habitation of the
middling Sort ought to re&longs;emble tho&longs;e of the Rich; at
lea&longs;t in Proportion to their Circum&longs;tances. Buildings
&longs;hould be contrived more for Summer than for Winter.
BOOK VI.
CHAP. I.
Undertaking, whereby it appears how much
Pains, Study and Application he has employed in writ
ing upon the&longs;e Matters.
CHAP. II.
Difference, that they are owing to Art and Exactne&longs;s
of Proportion; as al&longs;o of the Birth and Progre&longs;s of Arts.
CHAP. III.
Greece,
CHAP. IV.
ari&longs;e either &longs;rom Contrivance, or the Hand of the Arti
ficer, or from Nature; and that though the Region in
deed can hardly be improved by the Wit or Labour of
Man, yet many other Things may be done highly worthy
of Admiration, and &longs;carcely credible.
CHAP. V.
and of the ju&longs;t Compo&longs;ition and adorning the Wall and
Covering.
CHAP. VI.
Stones are moved from one Place to another, or rai&longs;ed to
any great Height.
CHAP. VII.
Parts, Sizes, and Figures.
CHAP. VIII.
in what manner great Weights are either drawn, car
ried or pu&longs;hed along.
CHAP. IX.
the Wall with Mortar, mu&longs;t be three in Number: How
they are to be made, and to what Purpo&longs;es they are to
&longs;erve. Of the &longs;everal Sorts of Mortar, and in what
Manner the Lime is to be prepared for making them:
Of Ba&longs;s-relieves in &longs;tuc-work and Paintings, with
which the Wall may be adorned.
CHAP. X.
Seantlings, and what Sand is be&longs;t for that Purpo&longs;e; as
al&longs;o of the Difference and Agreement between
in that Sort of Work.
CHAP. XI.
&longs;i&longs;ts in the Richne&longs;s and Beauty of the Rafters, Vaults,
and open Terra&longs;&longs;es.
CHAP. XII.
very plea&longs;ing, but are attended with many and various
Difficulties and Inconveniencies; that the fal&longs;e Aper
tures are of two Sorts, and what is required in each.
CHAP. XIII
Plans, Axes, Out-lines, Sweeps, Diminutions, Swells,
A&longs;iragals and Fillets.
BOOK VII.
CHAP. I.
Courts of Ju&longs;tice, u&longs;ed to be con&longs;ecreated to
the Gods; of the proper Region for the City, its Situati
on and principal Ornaments.
CHAP. II.
ought to be built, and who were the fir&longs;t that erected
Temples.
CHAP. III.
we ought to lay out and adorn our Temples; to what
Gods and in what Places we &longs;hould build them, and of
the various Kinds of Sacrifices.
CHAP. IV.
and their Chapels, and how the&longs;e latter &longs;hould be di&longs;tri
buted.
CHAP. V.
its A&longs;cent and the Apertures and Inter&longs;paces of the
Portico.
CHAP. VI.
pitals.
CHAP. VII.
bers of Columns, the Ba&longs;e, Torus, Scotia, Li&longs;ts, Die,
and of the &longs;maller Parts of tho&longs;e Members, the Plat
band, Corona, Ovolo, &longs;mall Ogee, Cima-inver&longs;a, and
Cymatium, both upright and rever&longs;ed.
CHAP. VIII.
po&longs;ite Capitals.
CHAP. IX.
glyphs, Dentils, Mutules, Cavetto, and Drip or Corona,
as al&longs;o of the Flutings and &longs;ome other Ornaments be
longing to Columns.
CHAP. X.
Area, of the Place &longs;or the Altar, and of the Walls and
their Ornaments.
CHAP. XI.
CHAP. XII.
the Windows, Doors, and Valves; together with their
Members, Proportions and Ornaments.
CHAP. XIII.
&longs;ticks, holy Ve&longs;&longs;els, and &longs;ome other noble Ornaments of
Temples.
CHAP. XIV.
Porticoes and different Members, and wherein they dif
fer from Temples.
CHAP. XV.
with Arches; what Sort of Columns are to be u&longs;ed in
Ba&longs;iliques, and what Cornices, and where they are to be
placed; of the Height and Wedth of Windows and
their Gratings; of the Roofs and Doors of Ba&longs;iliques,
and their Ornaments.
CHAP. XVI.
Memory of publick Actions and Events.
CHAP. XVII.
Temples, and what Materials are the mo&longs;t proper for
making them.
BOOK VIII.
CHAP. I.
within or without the City, and of the pro
per Places for interring or burning the Bodies of the
Dead.
CHAP. II.
burial.
CHAP. III.
ramids, Columns, Altars and Moles.
CHAP. IV.
Sepulchres.
CHAP. V.
CHAP. VI.
and the Methods of adorning the Haven, Gates, Bridges,
Arches, Cro&longs;s-ways and Squares.
CHAP. VII.
for publick Shows, and of their U&longs;efulne&longs;s.
CHAP. VIII.
Circus, publick Walks, and Halls, and Courts for petty
Judges.
CHAP. IX.
Hou&longs;e and Council-Chambers, as al&longs;o of the adorning the
City with Groves, Lakes for Swimming, Libraries,
Schools, publick Stables, Ar&longs;enals, and mathematical
In&longs;truments.
CHAP. X.
encies and Ornaments.
BOOK IX.
CHAP. I.
Frugality and Par&longs;imony, and of the adorn
ing the Palaces or Hou&longs;es of the King and principal
Magi&longs;trates.
CHAP. II.
and Country.
CHAP. III.
different both in Nature and Species, and that they are
to be adorned in various Manners.
CHAP. IV.
it is proper to adorn the Pavements, Porticoes, Apart
ments and Gardens of a private Hou&longs;e.
CHAP. V.
pally from three Things, namely, the Number, Figure
and Collocation of the &longs;everal Members.
CHAP. VI.
&longs;uring of Areas, and the Rules for &longs;ome other Proper
tions drawn neither from natural Bodies, nor from Har
mony.
CHAP. VII.
tions and Collocation.
CHAP. VIII.
may be locked upon as Laws in the Bu&longs;ine&longs;s of Building
and Ornaments.
CHAP. IX.
and wherein the Excellence of the Ornaments con&longs;i&longs;ts.
CHAP. X.
to con&longs;ider, and what Sciences he ought to be acquaint
ed with.
CHAP. XI.
to offer his Service.
BOOK X.
CHAP. I.
ceed, and their different Sorts; which of
them can be corrected by the Architect, and which can
not; and the various Cau&longs;es of a bad Air.
CHAP. II.
and of its various Sorts.
CHAP. III.
Water; al&longs;o whence it is engendered or ari&longs;es, and its
Cour&longs;e.
CHAP. IV.
CHAP. V.
Conduits.
CHAP. VI.
whole&longs;ome; and that which is unwhole&longs;ome.
CHAP. VII.
commodating it to the U&longs;es of Men.
CHAP. VIII.
CHAP. IX.
Wood in a Mar&longs;h; and how we may amend a Region
which is mole&longs;ted with too much Water.
CHAP. X.
cial Banks to Rivers.
CHAP. XI.
plied with Water, and the U&longs;es of them not ob&longs;tructed.
CHAP. XII.
and of Locks for confining the Water in it.
CHAP. XIII.
encies.
CHAP. XIV.
the U&longs;e of Fire.
CHAP. XV.
Serpents, Gnats, Bugs, Flies, Mice, Fleas, Moths, and
the like trouble&longs;ome Vermin.
CHAP. XVI.
as al&longs;o of amending Defects in the Walls.
CHAP. XVII.
again&longs;t, but which may be repaired after they have hap
pened.
THE
OF
BOOK I. CHAP. I.
Being to treat of the
De&longs;igns of Edifices, we
&longs;hall collect and tran
&longs;cribe into this our Work,
all the mo&longs;t curious and
u&longs;e&longs;ul Ob&longs;ervations left
us by the Ancients, and
which they gathered in
the actual Execution of
the&longs;e Works; and to the&longs;e we &longs;hall join what
ever we our&longs;elves may have di&longs;covered by our
Study, Application and Labour, that &longs;eems like
ly to be of U&longs;e. But as we de&longs;ire, in the hand
ling this difficult, knotty, and commonly ob
&longs;cure Subject, to be as clear and intelligible as
po&longs;&longs;ible; we &longs;hall, according to our Cu&longs;tom,
explain what the Nature of our Subject is;
which will &longs;hew the Origin of the important
Matters that we are to write of, at their very
Fountain-Head, and enable us to expre&longs;s the
Things that follow, in a more ea&longs;y and per
&longs;picuous Style. We &longs;hall therefore fir&longs;t lay
down, that the whole Art of Building con&longs;i&longs;ts
in the De&longs;ign, and in the Structure. The
whole Force and Rule of the De&longs;ign, con&longs;i&longs;ts
in a right and exact adapting and joining to
gether the Lines and Angles which compo&longs;e
and form the Face of the Building. It is the
Property and Bu&longs;ine&longs;s of the De&longs;ign to appoint
to the Edifice and all its Parts their proper
Places, determinate Number, ju&longs;t Proportion
and beautiful Order; &longs;o that the whole Form
of the Structure be proportionable. Nor has
this De&longs;ign any thing that makes it in its Na
ture in&longs;eparable from Matter; for we &longs;ee that
the &longs;ame De&longs;ign is in a Multitude of Buildings,
which have all the &longs;ame Form, and are exact
ly alike as to the Situation of their Parts and
the Di&longs;po&longs;ition of their Lines and Angles; and
we can in our Thought and Imagination con
trive perfect Forms of Buildings entirely &longs;epa
rate from Matter, by &longs;ettling and regulating in
a certain Order, the Di&longs;po&longs;ition and Conjunc
tion of the Lines and Angles. Which being
graceful pre-ordering of the Lines and Angles,
conceived in the Mind, and contrived by an
ingenious Arti&longs;t. But if we would enquire
what a Building is in its own Nature, together
with the Structure thereof, it may not be ami&longs;s,
to con&longs;ider from what Beginnings the Habita
tions of Men, which we call Edifices, took
their Ri&longs;e, and the Progre&longs;s of their Improve
ment: Which unle&longs;s I am mi&longs;taken, may be
re&longs;olved as follows.
CHAP II.
Building con&longs;i&longs;ts, and what is nece&longs;&longs;ary to each of tho&longs;e Parts.
In the Beginning Men looked out for Set
tlements in &longs;ome &longs;ecure Country; and ha
ving found a convenient Spot &longs;uitable to their
Occa&longs;ions, they there made them&longs;elves a Ha
bitation &longs;o contrived, that private and publick
Matters might not be confounded together in
the &longs;ame Place; but that they might have one
Part for Sleep, another for their Kitchen, and
others for their other nece&longs;&longs;ary U&longs;es. They
then began to think of a Covering to defend
them from Sun and Rain; and in order there
to, they erected Walls to place this Covering
upon. By this means they knew they &longs;hould
be the more compleatly &longs;heltered from pierc
ing Colds, and &longs;tormy Winds. La&longs;tly, in the
Sides of the Walls, from Top to Bottom, they
opened Pa&longs;&longs;ages and Windows, for going in and
out, and letting in Light and Air, and for the
Conveniency of di&longs;charging any Wet, or any
gro&longs;s Vapours, which might chance to get into
the Hou&longs;e. And who&longs;oever it was, whether
the Godde&longs;s
that fir&longs;t contrived the&longs;e Things: I am per
&longs;uaded the fir&longs;t Beginnings of them were &longs;uch
as I have de&longs;cribed, and that U&longs;e and Arts have
&longs;ince improved them to &longs;uch a Pitch, that the
various Kinds of Buildings are become almo&longs;t
infinite: Some are publick, &longs;ome private, &longs;ome
&longs;acred, &longs;ome profane, &longs;ome &longs;erve for U&longs;e and
Nece&longs;&longs;ity, &longs;ome for the Ornament of our Cities,
or the Beauty of our Temples: But no body
will therefore deny, that they were all derived
from the Principles abovementioned: Which
being &longs;o, it is evident, that the whole Art of
Building con&longs;i&longs;ts in &longs;ix Things, which are the&longs;e:
The Region, the Seat or Platform, the Com
partition, the Walling, the Covering and the
Apertures; and if the&longs;e Principles are fir&longs;t
thoroughly conceived, that which is to follow
will the more ea&longs;ily be under&longs;tood. We &longs;hall
therefore define them thus, the Region with
us &longs;hall be the whole large open Place in which
we are to build, and of which the Seat or Plat
form &longs;hall be only a Part: But the Platform
&longs;hall be a determined Spot of the Region, cir
cum&longs;cribed by Walls for U&longs;e and Service. But
under the Title of Platform, we &longs;hall likewi&longs;e
include all tho&longs;e Spaces of the Buildings, which
in walking we tread upon with our Feet. The
Compartition is that which &longs;ub-divides the
whole Platform of the Hou&longs;e into &longs;maller Plat
forms, &longs;o that the whole Edifice thus formed
and con&longs;tituted of the&longs;e its Members, &longs;eems to
be full of le&longs;&longs;er Edifices: By Walling we &longs;hall
under&longs;tand all that Structure, which is carried
up from the Ground to the Top to &longs;upport
the Weight of the Roof, and &longs;uch al&longs;o as is
rai&longs;ed on the In&longs;ide of the Building, to &longs;epa
rate the Apartments; Covering we &longs;hall call
not only that Part, which is laid over the Top
of the Edifice to receive the Rain, but any
Part too which is extended in length and
breadth over the Heads of tho&longs;e within;
which includes all Ceilings, hal&longs;-arched Roofs,
Vaults, and the like. Apertures are all tho&longs;e
Outlets, which are in any Part of the Build
ing, for the Convenience of Egre&longs;s and Re
gre&longs;s, or the Pa&longs;&longs;age of Things nece&longs;&longs;ary for
the Inmates. Of the&longs;e therefore we &longs;hall treat,
and of all the Parts of each, having fir&longs;t pre
mi&longs;ed &longs;ome Things, which whether they are
Principles, or nece&longs;&longs;ary Concomitants of the
Principles of this Work which we have under
taken, are certainly very much to our Purpo&longs;e:
For having con&longs;idered, whether there was any
Thing that might concern any of tho&longs;e Parts
which we have enumerated; we found three
Things by no means to be neglected, which
relate particularly to the Covering, the Wall
ing, and the like: Namely, that each of them
be adapted to &longs;ome certain and determinate
Conveniency, and above all, be whole&longs;ome.
ner eternal, as to Stability: And as to Grace
fulne&longs;s and Beauty, delicately and ju&longs;tly adorn
ed, and &longs;et off in all their Parts. Having laid
down the&longs;e Principles as the Foundations of
what we are to write, we proceed to our Subject.
CHAP. III.
The Ancients u&longs;ed the utmo&longs;t Caution
to &longs;ix upon a Region that had in it
nothing noxious, and was furni&longs;hed with all
Conveniences; and e&longs;pecially they took parti
cular Care that the Air was not unwhole&longs;ome
or intemperate; in which they &longs;hewed a great
Deal of Prudence; for they knew that if the
Earth or Water had any Defect in them, Art
and Indu&longs;try might correct it; but they affirm
ed, that neither Contrivance nor Multitude of
Hands was able &longs;ufficiently to correct and a
mend the Air. And it mu&longs;t be allowed, that,
as what we breathe is &longs;o conducive to the
Nouri&longs;hment and Support of Life, the purer
it is, the more it mu&longs;t pre&longs;erve and main
tain our Health. Be&longs;ides, how great an In
fluence the Air has in the Generation, Pro
duction, Aliment, and Pre&longs;ervation of Things,
is unknown to nobody. It is even ob&longs;erved,
that they who draw a pure Air, have better
Under&longs;tandings than tho&longs;e who breathe a heavy
moi&longs;t one: Which is &longs;uppo&longs;ed to be the Rea
&longs;on that the
than the We know that the Air,
according to the different Situation and Po&longs;iti
on of Places, affects us &longs;ometimes in one Man
ner, and &longs;ometimes in another. Some of the
Cau&longs;es of this Variety we imagine we under
&longs;tand; others by the Ob&longs;curity of their Natures
are altogether hidden and unknown to us. We
&longs;hall fir&longs;t &longs;peak of the manife&longs;t Cau&longs;es, and
con&longs;ider afterwards of the more occult; that
we may know how to chu&longs;e a Region com
modious and healthful. The Ancient Theo
logi&longs;ts called the Air Homer
her a Godde&longs;s, and names her
&longs;ignifies an Air naturally clear and tran&longs;parent. And it is certain, that Air is the mo&longs;t healthy,
which is the mo&longs;t purged and purified, and
which may mo&longs;t ea&longs;ily be pierced by the Sight,
the cleare&longs;t and lighte&longs;t, and the lea&longs;t Subject
to Variations. And on the contrary we af
firm the Air to be pe&longs;tiferous, where there is a
continued Collection of thick Clouds and &longs;tink
ing Vapours, and which always hangs like a
great Weight upon the Eyes, and ob&longs;tructs
the Sight. The Occa&longs;ion of this Difference
proceeds from &longs;everal Cau&longs;es, but chiefly I
take it, from the Sun and Winds. But we are
not here to &longs;pend Time in the&longs;e phy&longs;ical En
quiries, how the Vapours by the Power of the
Sun are rai&longs;ed from the mo&longs;t profound and
hidden Parts of the Earth, and drawn up to
the Sky, where gathering them&longs;elves together
in va&longs;t Bodies in the immen&longs;e Spaces of the
Air, either by their own huge Weight, or by
receiving the Rays of the Sun upon their rari
fied Parts, they fall and thereby pre&longs;s upon the
Air and occa&longs;ion the Winds; and being after
wards carried to the Ocean by their Drought,
they plunge, and having bathed and impregna
ted them&longs;elves with Moi&longs;ture from the Sea,
they once more a&longs;cend through the Air, where
being pre&longs;&longs;ed by the Winds, and as it were
&longs;queezed like a Sponge, they di&longs;charge their
Burthen of Water in Rains, which again
create new Vapours. Whether the&longs;e Conjec
tures be true, or whether the Wind be occa&longs;i
oned by a dry Fumo&longs;ity of the Earth, or a hot
Evaporation &longs;tirred by the Pre&longs;&longs;ure of the Cold;
or that it be, as we may call it, the Breath of
the Air; or nothing but the Air it&longs;elf put into
Agitation by the Motion of the World, or by
the Cour&longs;e and Radiation of the Stars; or by
the generating Spirit of all Things in its own
Nature active, or &longs;omething el&longs;e not of a &longs;epa
rate Exi&longs;tence, but con&longs;i&longs;ting in the Air it&longs;elf
acted upon and inflamed by the Heat of the
higher Air; or whatever other Opinion or
Way of accounting for the&longs;e Things be truer
or more ancient, I &longs;hall pa&longs;s it over as not
making to my Purpo&longs;e. However, unle&longs;s I am
mi&longs;taken, we may conceive from what has been
&longs;aid already, why &longs;ome Countries in the World
enjoy a plea&longs;ant chearful Air, while others,
clo&longs;e adjoyning to them, and as it were laid
by Nature in the &longs;ame Lap, are &longs;tupified and
afflicted with a heavy and di&longs;mal Climate. For I &longs;uppo&longs;e, that this happens from no other
Cau&longs;e, but their being ill di&longs;po&longs;ed for the O
peration of the Sun and Winds.
us, that
bitants never mi&longs;&longs;ed &longs;eeing the Sun every Day
in the Year; a Situation very &longs;eldom to be met
allow of it to be de&longs;ired above all Things. That Region therefore is to be cho&longs;en, which
is mo&longs;t free from the Power of Clouds and all
other heavy thick Vapours. Tho&longs;e who ap
ply them&longs;elves to the&longs;e Enquiries have ob&longs;erv
ed, that the Rays and Heat of the Sun act
with more Violence upon clo&longs;e den&longs;e Bodies,
than upon tho&longs;e of a loo&longs;er Contexture, upon
Oil more than Water, Iron more than Wool;
for which Rea&longs;on they &longs;ay the Air is mo&longs;t
gro&longs;s and heavy in tho&longs;e Places, which are mo&longs;t
&longs;ubject to great Heats. The
tending for Nobility with all the other Nati
ons in the World, boa&longs;ted, that the fir&longs;t Men
were created in their Country, becau&longs;e no
Place was &longs;o fit to plant the fir&longs;t Race of Men
in, as there, where they might live the mo&longs;t
healthily; and that they were ble&longs;&longs;ed by the
Gods with a Kind of perpetual Spring, and a
cón&longs;tant unchangeable Di&longs;po&longs;ition of Air above
all the Re&longs;t of the Word. And
writes, that among the
ly who lived towards
healthy, becau&longs;e they enjoy continual gentle
Breezes. And to me the Rea&longs;on why &longs;ome
Cities, both in
World, are perpetually unhealthy and pe&longs;ti
lential, &longs;eems plainly to be the &longs;udden Turns
and Changes in the Air, from Hot to Cold,
and from Cold to Hot. So that it very much
concerns us to be extremely careful in our Ob
&longs;ervation, what and how much Sun the Regi
on we pitch upon is expo&longs;ed to; that there be
neither more Sun nor more Shade than is ne
ce&longs;&longs;ary. The
at it's Ri&longs;ing and it's Setting, becau&longs;e they are
&longs;corched with the long Continuation of it's
Beams. Other Nations look pale and wan, by
living in a Kind of perpetual Night. And
the&longs;e Things happen not &longs;o much, becau&longs;e &longs;uch
Places have the Pole more depre&longs;&longs;ed or oblique,
tho there is a great deal in that too, as becau&longs;e
they are aptly &longs;ituated for receiving the Sun and
Winds, or are skreened from them. I &longs;hould
chu&longs;e &longs;oft Breezes before Winds, but even
Winds, though violent and blu&longs;tering, before a
Calm, motionle&longs;s, and con&longs;equently, a heavy
Air. Water, &longs;ays
ed: And it is certain the Air, to u&longs;e &longs;uch an
Expre&longs;&longs;ion, wonderfully exhilerated by Moti
on: For I am per&longs;uaded, that thereby the Va
pours which ri&longs;e from the Earth are either di&longs;
&longs;ipated, or el&longs;e growing warm by Action are
concocted as they &longs;hould be. But then I
would have the&longs;e Winds come to me, broken
by the Oppo&longs;ition of Hills and Woods, or tir
ed with a long Journey. I would take heed
that they did not bring any ill Qualities along
with them, gathered from any Places they
pa&longs;&longs;ed through. And for this Rea&longs;on we
&longs;hould be care&longs;ul to avoid all Neighbourhoods
from which any noxious Particles may be
brought: In the Number of which are all ill
Smells, and all gro&longs;s Exhalations from Mar&longs;hes,
and e&longs;pecially from &longs;tagnating Waters and
Ditches. The Naturali&longs;ts lay it down for cer
tain, that all Rivers that u&longs;e to be &longs;upplied by
Snows, bring cold &longs;oggy Winds: But no Water
is &longs;o noi&longs;ome and pernicious, as that which
rots and putriAnd
the Contagion of &longs;uch a Neighbourhood will
be &longs;till more mi&longs;chievous, according as it is
more or le&longs;s expo&longs;ed to unwhole&longs;ome Winds:
For we are told, that the very Winds them
&longs;elves are in their own Natures &longs;ome more
whole&longs;ome than others. Thus
the
ing of Health; and all the Naturali&longs;ts affirm,
that the
Mankind; nay further, that the very Bea&longs;ts
may not &longs;afely be left in the Fields while that
Wind blows; and they have ob&longs;erved, that at
&longs;uch Times the Stork never flies, and that the
Dolphins in a
wards them, can hear any Voice, but in a
mu&longs;t have it brought to them oppo&longs;ite to the
Wind. They &longs;ay too, that in a
an Eel will live &longs;ix Days out of Water, but
not &longs;o in a
whole&longs;ome Property of that Wind; and that
as the
&longs;o the They
likewi&longs;e find Fault with the Neighbourhood of
the
becau&longs;e they &longs;uppo&longs;e, that a Place expo&longs;ed to
the Reflection of the Sun's Rays, does in ef
fect &longs;uffer two Suns, one &longs;corching them from
the Heavens, and the other from the Water;
and &longs;uch Places upon the Setting of the Sun
feel the greate&longs;t and mo&longs;t &longs;en&longs;ible Alrerations
in the Air when the cold Shadows of Night
come on. And there are &longs;ome who think, that
the
the Sun, either from the Sea or any other
Water, or from the Mountains, mole&longs;t us mo&longs;t
already &longs;ufficiently warmed by whole Day's
Sun. And if it happens, that with all this Sun
the heavy gro&longs;s Winds have free Acce&longs;s to you,
what can be more annoying or intollerable? The early Morning Breezes too, which bring
the Vapours crude ju&longs;t as they are rai&longs;ed, are
certainly to be avoided. Thus we have briefly
&longs;poken of the Sun and Winds, by which the
Air is altered and made healthy and noxious,
as much as we thought nece&longs;&longs;ary here: And
in their Places we &longs;hall di&longs;cour&longs;e of them more
di&longs;tinctly.
CHAP. IV.
In chu&longs;ing the Region it will be proper to
have it &longs;uch, that the Inhabitants may find
it convenient in all Re&longs;pects, both as to its na
tural Properties, and as to the Neighbourhood
and its Corre&longs;pondence with the re&longs;t of Man
kind. For certainly I would never build a City
upon a &longs;teep inacce&longs;&longs;ible Cliff of the
mo&longs;t Extremity: Nor in a &longs;olitary De&longs;art, as
been which was beyond the
paints Neither &longs;hould I
be plea&longs;ed to live, as in
Eggs of Birds, or upon Acorns, as they did in
&longs;ome Parts of I would
if po&longs;&longs;ible have nothing be wanting that could
be of U&longs;e in Life. For this Rea&longs;on, more than
any other,
in not building a City upon Mount
(though the Invention and De&longs;ign of the Archi
tect
ful) becau&longs;e the Inhabitants could never have
been well &longs;upplied with Conveniences.
was indeed be&longs;t plea&longs;ed with a Region that was
difficult of Acce&longs;s, and e&longs;pecially to build a
City in: And we find there have been &longs;ome
Nations, which have cho&longs;e to have their Con
fines quite &longs;tript and laid into a De&longs;art for a
great Way together, only in order to di&longs;tre&longs;s
their Enemies. Whether this Method is to be
approved or blamed, we &longs;hall examine in an
other Place. If it is of Service in a publick
Regard, I cannot find Fault with it: But for
the Situation of other Buildings, I &longs;hould much
rather chu&longs;e a Region that had many and dif
ferent Ways of Acce&longs;s, for the ea&longs;y bringing in
all Manner of Nece&longs;&longs;aries, both by Land-Car
riage and Water-Carriage, as well in Winter
as in Summer. The Region it&longs;elf likewi&longs;e
&longs;hould neither be too moi&longs;t through too great
abundance of Water, nor too much parched
with Drought, but be kindly and temperate. And if we cannot find one exactly in all Re
&longs;pects as we would have it, let us chu&longs;e it ra
ther &longs;omewhat cold and dry, than warm and
moi&longs;t: For our Hou&longs;es, our Cloaths, Fires,
and Exerci&longs;e, will ea&longs;ily overcome the Cold;
neither is it believed, that the Dryne&longs;s of a Soil
can have any thing in it very noxious, either to
the Bodies or Mind, only that by Dryne&longs;s
Men's Bodies are hardened, and by Cold per
haps made &longs;omewhat rougher: But it is held
for certain, that all Bodies corrupt with too
much Humidity, and are relaxed by Heat. And we find that Men either in cold Weather,
or that live in cold Places, are more healthy
and le&longs;s &longs;ubject to Di&longs;tempers; though it is al
lowed, that in hot Climates Men have better
Wits, as they have better Con&longs;titutions in cold. I have read in
Winters are never too cold. That Region
therefore will be far the be&longs;t, which is ju&longs;t
moderately warm and moi&longs;t, becau&longs;e that will
produce lu&longs;ty hand&longs;ome Men, and not &longs;ubject
to Melancholy. Secondly, that Region will
be mo&longs;t eligible, which being placed among
Countries liable to Snow, enjoys more Sun
than its Neighbours; and among Countries
burnt by the Sun, that which has mo&longs;t Humi
dity and Shade. But no Building, let it be
what it will, can be placed more un&longs;ightly or
inconveniently, than in a Valley down be
tween two Hills; becau&longs;e, not to in&longs;i&longs;t upon
more manife&longs;t Rea&longs;ons, an Edifice &longs;o placed
has no Manner of Dignity, lying quite hid;
and it's Pro&longs;pect being interrupted can have
neither Plea&longs;ure nor Beauty. But what is this
to tho&longs;e greater Mi&longs;chiefs which will &longs;hortly
happen, when the Hou&longs;e is overwhelmed by
Floods and filled with Waters that pour in up
on it from the adjoining Hills; and imbibing
exhales Vapours extreamly noxious to the
Health of its Inhabitants. In &longs;uch a Place,
the Under&longs;tanding can never be clear, the
Spirits being dampt and &longs;tupified; nor will
any Kind of Bodies endure long. The Books
will grow mouldy and rot; the Arms will
ru&longs;t, nothing in the Storehou&longs;e will keep, and
in &longs;hort, the Exce&longs;s of Moi&longs;ture will &longs;poil and
de&longs;troy every Thing. If the Sun &longs;hines in,
you will be &longs;corched in&longs;ufferably by the fre
quent Reflection of his Rays, which will be
beat back upon you from every Side, and if it
does not, you will be dried and withered by
the continual Shade. Add to this, that if the
Winds gets in, being confined as it were in a
Channel, it will rage there with greater Fury
than in other Places; and if it never enters,
the Air for want of Motion will grow thick
and muddy; &longs;uch a Valley may not impro
perly be called a Puddle, or Bog of Air. The
Form of the Place therefore in which we in
tend to build, ought to be graceful and plea
&longs;ant, not mean and low, as if it were buried
below the re&longs;t of the Earth, but lofty, and as
it were a Hawk to look clear round about, and
con&longs;tantly refre&longs;hed on every Side with de
lightful Breezes. Be&longs;ides this, let there be
Plenty of every Thing nece&longs;&longs;ary, either to the
Convenience or Plea&longs;ure of Life, as Water,
Fire and Provi&longs;ions: But Care mu&longs;t be taken,
that there is nothing in any of the&longs;e Things
prejudicial to the Health. The Springs mu&longs;t
be opened and ta&longs;ted, and the Water tried by
Fire, that there be no Mixture in it of mucous,
vi&longs;cous or crude Particles, that may affect the
Con&longs;titutions of the Inhabitants. I omit the
ill Effects that often proceed from Water, as
breeding Wens in the Throat, and giving the
Stone; as likewi&longs;e tho&longs;e other more wonderful
Effects of Water, which
tect has learnedly and elegantly &longs;ummed up. It is the Opinion of the Phy&longs;ician
that they who drink Water not well purged,
but heavy and ill-ta&longs;ted, grow Cholicky, and
to have large &longs;welled Bellies, while the re&longs;t of
their Members, their Arms, their Shoulders and
their Faces become thin and extenuated. Add
to this, that though the Fault of the Spleen ill
dige&longs;ting of the Blood, they fall into &longs;everal
Kinds of Diftempers, &longs;ome even pe&longs;tilential. In Summer, Fluxes of the Belly by the &longs;tir
ring of the Choler, and the di&longs;&longs;olving of the
Humours wa&longs;te all their Strength; and all the
Year round they are continually liable to heavy
and tedious Infirmities, &longs;uch as the Drop&longs;y,
A&longs;thma and Pleuri&longs;y. The young lo&longs;e their
Sen&longs;es by melancholy Bile; the old are burnt
by the Inflammation of the Humours; the
Women with Difficulty conceive, and with
more Difficulty bring forth: In a Word, every
Age and every Sex will fall by early and un
timely Deaths, de&longs;troyed and worn away by
Di&longs;ea&longs;es; nor will they enjoy a &longs;ingle Day
while they live, without being tormented with
Melancholy or black Humours, and fretted
with Spleen and Vapours; &longs;o that their Minds
will never be free from Vexation and Unea&longs;i
ne&longs;s. Many other Things might be &longs;aid of
Water, which have been ob&longs;erved by the an
cient Hi&longs;torians, very curious and remarkable,
and of extream Efficacy to the Health of Man
kind; but they are uncommon, and might
&longs;eem rather intended to make a Shew of
Knowledge than for actual U&longs;e; be&longs;ides that
we &longs;hall &longs;peak more copiou&longs;ly of Waters in
their proper Place. Thus much certainly is
not to be neglected, and is mo&longs;t manife&longs;t,
namely, that Water gives Nouri&longs;hment to all
Plants, Seeds, and every Thing el&longs;e that has
the vegetative Life, with the Plenty of who&longs;e
Fruits Men are refre&longs;hed and &longs;upported. If
all this be granted, certainly we ought very
carefully to examine what Veins of Water the
Country is furni&longs;hed with, in which we intend
to dwell.
are generally lu&longs;ty &longs;trong Men, and very &longs;harp
witted, which he imputes to their having a
whole&longs;ome Air and good Water. Now that
Water we conceive to be the be&longs;t ta&longs;ted which
has no Ta&longs;te, and that is be&longs;t coloured which
has no Colour at all. It is agreed, that the
be&longs;t Water is clear, tran&longs;parent and light, &longs;uch
as being poured upon a white Cloth leaves no
Stain; and upon boiling has no Sediment, and
which does not cover the Bed it flows in with
Mo&longs;s or Slime, nor e&longs;pecially the Stones which
it runs over. A further Proof of the Goodne&longs;s
of Water is, when boiling any Kind of Pul&longs;e in
it makes them tender, and when it makes good
Bread. Neither &longs;hould we be le&longs;s careful to ex
amine and note, whether the Region ingenders
nothing pe&longs;tiferous or venemous, that the Inha
bitants may be in no Danger. I pa&longs;s over
&longs;ome Things, which are recorded by the An
cients, to wit, that in
the Leaves of the Trees a Honey, which who
&longs;oever ta&longs;tes falls &longs;en&longs;ele&longs;s, and for a whole Day
&longs;eems to be dead: As al&longs;o what is &longs;aid to have
happened in
want of Bread, grew be&longs;otted, and employed
them&longs;elves in nothing but digging Stones out
of the Ground, till their Choler being &longs;tirred
they fell down dead; nor was any Remedy
found again&longs;t this Plague, as we are informed
by
Things are commonly known. But good
Heavens! what &longs;hall we &longs;ay to what has hap
pened in our own Days in
what incredible Effects of Poi&longs;on have we &longs;een
there! the Bite of a &longs;mall Earth Spider, com
monly called a
various Kinds of Madne&longs;s, and even Fury; a
Thing &longs;trange to be told. No Swelling, no
livid Spot appearing in any Part of the Body
from the &longs;harp Bite or Sting of the venomous
Bea&longs;t; but &longs;uddenly lo&longs;ing their Sen&longs;es, they
fall piteou&longs;ly to bewail them&longs;elves, and if no
A&longs;&longs;i&longs;tance is given them they die. They cure
this Di&longs;temper with
who &longs;ays, that Per&longs;ons bit by Vipers u&longs;ed to
be cured by the Sound of Pipes. The Mu&longs;i
cians therefore with different Kinds of Har
mony try to a&longs;&longs;wage the Pain, and when they
hit upon the Kind proper to the Patient, im
mediately, as if he were &longs;uddenly awakened,
he &longs;tarts up, and tran&longs;ported with Joy, falls to
be&longs;tirring him&longs;elf to the Mu&longs;ick with all his
Strength, in whatever his Fancy prompts him
to. Some that are thus bit, you &longs;hall &longs;ee ex
erci&longs;e them&longs;elves in Dancing, others in Singing,
and others &longs;tirring in other Motions, ju&longs;t as
their Inclination or Madne&longs;s guides them, till
through mere Wearine&longs;s they are forced to
give over. And thus without giving them
&longs;elves the lea&longs;t Re&longs;t, they will &longs;weat them&longs;elves
for &longs;ome Days, and &longs;o recover their Health
merely by their Madne&longs;s having quite &longs;pent it
&longs;elf. We read too of &longs;omething like this that
happened among the
again&longs;t
that there was a Sort of Cobweb among them,
which whoever touched &longs;urely died, &longs;ome
Laughing, and others on the contrary Weeping.
CHAP. V.
Nor are tho&longs;e Things alone &longs;ufficient for
the chu&longs;ing of the Region, which are
obvious and manife&longs;t of them&longs;elves; but we
mu&longs;t weigh every Circum&longs;tance, and con&longs;ider
the mo&longs;t occult Tokens. Thus it will be a
good Sign of an excelient Air and of good Wa
ter, if the Country produces Plenty of good
Fruits, if it fo&longs;ters a good Number of Men of
a good old Age, if it abounds with lu&longs;ty hand
&longs;ome Youth, if the People are fruitful, and if
the Births are natural and never mon&longs;trous. I
have my&longs;elf &longs;een &longs;ome Cities, which out of Re
&longs;pect to the Times I forbear to name, where
there is &longs;carce a Woman, but what &longs;ees her&longs;elf
at the &longs;ame In&longs;tant, the Mother both of a Man
and of a Mon&longs;ter. Another City I know in
backed, Squint-eyed, Crooked and Lame, that
there is &longs;carce a Family, but what has Some
body in it defective or di&longs;torted. And cer
tainly, where we &longs;ee &longs;uch frequent and great
Inequalities of Pody to Body, and Member to
Member; we may well conclude, that it pro
ceeds from &longs;ome Defect in the Climate or Air,
or from &longs;ome more hidden Cau&longs;e of the Cor
ruption of Nature. Nor is it foreign to our
Purpo&longs;e what has been ob&longs;erved, that in a gro&longs;s
Air we are more inclined to Hunger, and in a
thin One to Thir&longs;t: and we may not impro
bably draw &longs;ome Conjectures from the Shape
and Looks of other Animals, what Con&longs;tituti
ons the Men will have in the &longs;ame Place; for
if the Cattle look lively, fat and large, you
may not unrea&longs;onably hope to have Children
that will be &longs;o too. Neither will it be ami&longs;s to
gather Notice of the Air and Winds, even
from other Bodies not endued with animal
Life; thus if the Walls of the neighbouring
Buildings are grown ru&longs;ty and rugged, it &longs;hews
that &longs;ome malignant Influence has Power
there. The Trees too bending all one Way,
as if by general Con&longs;ent, &longs;hew that they have
&longs;uffered the Force of high rough Winds; and
the very Stones, whether growing in their na
tive Seats, or placed in Buildings, if their Tops
are any thing con&longs;iderably rotted, &longs;hew the
Intemperature of the Air, &longs;ometimes too hot
and &longs;ometimes over cold. A Region &longs;o ex
po&longs;ed to the furious A&longs;&longs;aults of Tempe&longs;ts is to
be avoided, as the very wor&longs;t of all; for if the
Bodies of Men are &longs;eized with too exce&longs;&longs;ive
Cold or Heat, the whole Frame and Contex
di&longs;&longs;olved, and &longs;alls into dangerous Di&longs;tempers
and immature old Age. A City &longs;tanding at
the Foot of a Hill, and looking towards the
&longs;etting Sun, is accounted unhealthy, more for
this Rea&longs;on than any other, that it feels too
&longs;uddenly the cold chilling Breezes of the Night. It may likewi&longs;e be convenient by looking back
into Times pa&longs;t, according to the Ob&longs;ervations
of the Wi&longs;e, to examine into Properties yet
more hidden, if there be &longs;uch in the Place:
For there are Countries which have in their
Nature &longs;ome Secret undi&longs;covered Qualities,
which confer Happine&longs;s or Unhappine&longs;s.
cris
infected with any Plague. In the I&longs;le of
In
Places the Naturali&longs;ts &longs;ay, that in the Middle
either of Summer or Winter it never Thunders:
But in
ders at tho&longs;e very Times over tho&longs;e Cities that
&longs;tand to the South; and the Mountains near
the frequent Lightnings that fall upon it. The
I&longs;le of
ning, was the Rea&longs;on,
the Poets feigning that
Heaven. About the Streights of
the
Thunder or Lighten. If it Rains in
it is reckoned a Prodigy. Near the
in the Beginning of Summer it Rains continu
ally. They &longs;ay that in
&longs;tirred by Winds, that it grows &longs;o thick, that
&longs;everal Kinds of Vapours are vi&longs;ible in the Sky:
And on the Contrary, in mo&longs;t Parts of
tia,
Violence, that it drives along the very Stones
like Sand. In
the North-We&longs;t Wind blows &longs;o hard, that it
overturns Carts heavy laden: In
are told the South never blows, and Hi&longs;torians
write, that this Wind in
Country of the
Thing that is green: And
that
quakes, but always &longs;tood firm upon the &longs;ame
Rock, though the other I&longs;lands all about it
were often laid in Ruins by Earthquakes, We
our&longs;elves &longs;ee, that the Part of
runs from the
all along the Ridge of Hills of the
di Roma
and almo&longs;t quite laid wa&longs;te by Earthquakes. Some believe
quent Inundations of Water. I find that
was always &longs;ubject to Agues, and
tho&longs;e Agues to be a new Kind of double Ter
tian, which mu&longs;t have varions and almo&longs;t di
rect Remedies applied to it at different Sea
&longs;ons. It is an old Fable among the Poets, that
his turning &longs;hakes the whole I&longs;land from its
very Foundation. The Rea&longs;on of this Ficti
on of the Poets was, becau&longs;e that I&longs;land was &longs;o
tormented with Earthquakes and Eruptions,
that the
habited it, were forced to fly for it. And a
gain, aftewards tho&longs;e who were &longs;ent by
with the continual Danger of De&longs;truction, de
&longs;erted it too. Wherefore all Things of this
Nature are to be &longs;ifted out from long Ob&longs;er
vation, and examined and compared by other
Places, in order to come at a clear and full
Knowledge of every Particular.
CHAP. VI.
wi&longs;e Man ought to enquire into.
We ought further to enquire carefully,
whether the Region is u&longs;ed to be mo
le&longs;ted with any more hidden Inconveniency.
ence of Spirits often reigned, and was at &longs;ome
times mi&longs;chievous, and at others propitious to
the Inhabitants. It is certain there are &longs;ome
Places where Men are very &longs;ubject to run mad,
others where they are ca&longs;ily di&longs;po&longs;ed to do
them&longs;elves a Mi&longs;chief, and where they put an
End to their own Lives by Halters or Preci
pices, Steel or Poi&longs;on. It is therefore very ne
ce&longs;&longs;ary to examine by the mo&longs;t occult Traces
of Nature, every Thing that can be attended
with &longs;uch Effects. It was an ancient Cu&longs;tom
brought down even from
and Towns, but al&longs;o in marking out Camps
for the Armies, to in&longs;pect the Entrails of the
Bea&longs;t that grazed upon the Place, and to ob
&longs;erve both their Condition and Colour. In
which if they chanced to find any Defect, they
avoided that Place as unhealthy.
forms us of his own Knowledge, that in &longs;ome
Places the Air was full of minute Animalcules
as &longs;mall as Atoms, which being received toge
ther with the Breath into the Lungs, fa&longs;tened
upon the Inte&longs;tines, and gnawing upon them,
cau&longs;ed dreadful raging Di&longs;ea&longs;es, and at length
Plagues and Death. Nor ought we to forget
that there are &longs;ome Places, which, though in
their own Nature, they are &longs;ubject to no In
convenience or Mi&longs;chief what&longs;oever, yet are &longs;o
&longs;ituated, that by the Arrival of Foreigners they
will often be infected with pe&longs;tilential Di&longs;tem
pers. And this &longs;hall happen, not only by
Means of Armies of Enemies endeavouring to
do you all the Mi&longs;chief they can, as befals tho&longs;e
Nations which are expo&longs;ed to inhuman Barba
rians; but by a friendly Reception and Enter
tainment of them you &longs;hall expo&longs;e your&longs;elf to
extreme Calamities. Others by having Neigh
bours de&longs;irous of Innovations, have by their
Broils and De&longs;truction fallen into great Dangers
them&longs;elves.
Colony of the
with the Plague, by their giving daily Admi&longs;
&longs;ion to Slaves, both infirm in Mind, and almo&longs;t
quste rotten and worn away with mere Filth
and Na&longs;tine&longs;s. Some likewi&longs;e will have it, that
it is the Part of a prudent and wi&longs;e Man to en
quire by Augury and the Ob&longs;ervation of the
Heavens, what Fortune he &longs;hall have in &longs;uch
a Place. Which Arts, provided they are not
incompatiable with our Religion, I own I do
not di&longs;pi&longs;e. Who can deny that what they
call Fortune, whatever &longs;he be, has a very great
Power over human Affairs? Can we venture
to affirm, that the publick Fortune of
not a great Share in the Enlargement of the
Empire? The City of
by a Grand&longs;on of
tacked both by the
mans,
its Liberty. Can we &longs;uppo&longs;e that the Temple
at
wards in
the third Time, without the particular ill For
tune of that Place? What &longs;hall we &longs;ay of the
Capitol? How often has that been in Flames?
The City of the
mities, often de&longs;erted and often re&longs;tored, at
length quite ruined, was utterly abandoned;
nay, tho&longs;e who fled from it were pur&longs;ued by ill
Fortune, nor could they, by removing their
Dwellings and leaving the ancient Name of
their City, ever &longs;ave them&longs;elves from Mi&longs;ery
and De&longs;truction: For new Inhabitants coming
in upon them, all their mo&longs;t ancient and prin
cipal Families, their &longs;acred Edifices and their
whole City, were utterly laid wa&longs;te and de
&longs;troyed with Fire and Sword. But we need
not dwell upon the&longs;e Things which Hi&longs;torians
are full of. Our whole De&longs;ign is to &longs;hew, that
it is the Part of a wi&longs;e Man to do every thing
which may make him &longs;ecure, that the Trouble
and Expence of his Building &longs;hall not be in
vain, and that his Work it&longs;elf may be perma
nent. And certainly to omit no Precaution
which may effect &longs;o great a De&longs;ign, is the Bu
&longs;ine&longs;s of every prudent Man. Or will you &longs;ay,
that it is not of the utmo&longs;t Importance both to
you and yours to execute an Undertaking, that
brings with it Health, Dignity and Plea&longs;ure,
and recommends your Name with Reputation
to Po&longs;terity? Here you are to apply your&longs;elves
to your Studies, here you are to breed
your dear Children and live with your Fa
mily, here you are to &longs;pend your Days both
of Labour and Re&longs;t, here all the Schemes of
your whole Life are to be executed; &longs;o that
I do not think any Thing in the World can be
named, except Virtue, which can de&longs;erve more
Care and Application, than to fix a good and
convenient Habitation for your&longs;elf and Family. And who can be &longs;ure of having &longs;uch a one,
who de&longs;pi&longs;es the Precautions before-mention
ed? but of the&longs;e enough.
Come we now to
the Seat or Platform.
CHAP. VII.
In chu&longs;ing the Platform, we ought to ob
&longs;erve all the &longs;ame Rules that we have laid
down about the Region; for as the Region is
a determinate and &longs;elect Part of the whole
nate Part of the Region taken up by the
Building; and for this Rea&longs;on, any Thing that
may annoy or be of Service to the Region,
may do the &longs;ame to the Platform. But though
this be &longs;o, yet our Di&longs;cu&longs;&longs;ion and Con&longs;iderati
ons here will offer us &longs;ome Precepts, which
&longs;eem particularly to regard the Platform only;
and &longs;ome again which do not &longs;eem &longs;o proper
ly to belong to the Seat as in a great Mea&longs;ure
to the Region; which are the&longs;e. It is nece&longs;
&longs;ary to con&longs;ider what Work we are taking in
Hand, publick or private, &longs;acred or profane,
and &longs;o of the Re&longs;t, which we &longs;hall treat of di&longs;
tinctly in their proper Places. For one Situa
tion and one Space is to be allotted to an Ex
change, another to a Theatre, another to a
a Temple; &longs;o that we mu&longs;t have regard to the
Quality and U&longs;e of every Edifice in the Deter
mining of its Situation and Form. But to
proceed here only in a general Di&longs;cu&longs;&longs;ion of
the&longs;e Things as we began, we &longs;hall touch on
ly upon tho&longs;e Points which we judge nece&longs;
&longs;ary: Fir&longs;t &longs;aying &longs;omething of Lines, which
may be of Service for under&longs;tanding what fol
lows. For being to treat of the De&longs;ign of the
Platform, it will not be inconvenient to explain
tho&longs;e Things fir&longs;t whereof that De&longs;ign con
&longs;i&longs;ts. Every De&longs;ign therefore is compo&longs;ed of
Lines and Angles; the Lines are that extreme
De&longs;ign which includes the whole Space of the
Platform. That Part of the Superficies of this
De&longs;ign, which is contained between two Lines
touching at &longs;ome certain Point, is called an
Angle. The Inter&longs;ection therefore or cro&longs;&longs;ing
of two Lines over each other form four Angles. If each of the&longs;e Angles be equal to all and each
of the other three, they are called right Angles;
if they are le&longs;s, they are called acute, and the
greater obtu&longs;e. Of Lines too &longs;ome are &longs;trait
and others curve; of involved winding Lines
it is not nece&longs;&longs;ary to &longs;peak here. The &longs;trait
Line is a Line drawn from one Point to an
other, the &longs;horte&longs;t Way that po&longs;&longs;ibly can be. The curve Line is Part of a Circle; a Circle
is a Draught made from one of two Points,
and turned upon the &longs;ame Superficies in &longs;uch a
Manner, that in its whole Circumference it is
never nearer nor farther from that immoveable
Point the Centre, than it was at the fir&longs;t Turn. But to this it is nece&longs;&longs;ary to add, that the curve
Line, which was &longs;aid to be Part of the Circle,
among us Architects, for its Similitude, is call
ed an Arch. And the &longs;trait Line, which is
drawn from the two extreme Points of the
curve Line, for the &longs;ame Rea&longs;on is called
a Chord. And that Line, which goes from
the middle Point of the Chord up to the
Arch, leaving equal Angles on each Side, is
called the And that which is carried
from the fixed immoveable Point within the
Circle to the curve Line of the Circle, is call
ed the And that immoveable Point
in the Middle is called the Centre. And the
Line which pa&longs;&longs;es through the Centre and
touches both Sides of the Circumference, is
called the Diameter. Arches too are different,
for &longs;ome are entire, &longs;ome are imperfect, and
&longs;ome are compo&longs;ite. The entire is that which
is the full Half of a Circle, or that who&longs;e
Chord is the Diameter of the whole Circle. The Imperfect is that who&longs;e Chord is le&longs;s than
a Diameter, &longs;o that this imperfect Arch is Part
of a Semi-circle. The compo&longs;ite Arch is
formed of two imperfect Arches, and &longs;o the
joyning of tho&longs;e two Arches, inter&longs;ecting each
other, makes an Angle at Top, which never
happens either in the entire or imperfect Arch. The&longs;e Things being premi&longs;ed, we proceed as
follows.
CHAP. VIII.
&longs;erviceable and la&longs;ting.
Of Platforms, &longs;ome are angular and others
circular; of the angular, &longs;ome con&longs;i&longs;t
all of right Lines, and &longs;ome of right Lines
and curve mixed together. But I do not re
member among the Buildings of the Ancients
to have met with any angular De&longs;ign, com
po&longs;ed of &longs;everal curve Lines, without any Mix
ture of &longs;trait Lines at all: But in this we
&longs;hould have regard to tho&longs;e Things, which be
ing wanting in all Parts of the Structure, are
greatly blamed; and which, where they are,
make the Edifice hand&longs;ome and convenient.
Parts have a certain Variety, but not too much
nor too little of it, but &longs;o ordered both for
U&longs;e and Beauty, that the entire Parts may an
&longs;wer to the entire, and like Parts to like. Right
Angles are very convenient; the Acute are
never u&longs;ed even in mean incon&longs;iderable Plat
forms, unle&longs;s upon ab&longs;olute Nece&longs;&longs;ity, or the
Con&longs;traint of the Nature and Manner of the
Situation, or to make &longs;ome other Part of the
Platform more graceful. The obtu&longs;e Angles,
have been thought very convenient, but it has
always been ob&longs;erved as a Rule never to place
them any where in unequal Numbers. The
circular Platform is e&longs;teemed to be the mo&longs;t
capacious of all, and the lea&longs;t expen&longs;ive to en
clo&longs;e either with Wall or Rampart. The
neare&longs;t to this is &longs;aid to be that which has &longs;e
veral Sides, but then they mu&longs;t be all alike and
an&longs;werable to each other, and equal through
out the whole Platform. But tho&longs;e are com
mended mo&longs;t of all, which are mo&longs;t conveni
ent for rai&longs;ing the Wall to the ju&longs;t Heighth of
the Work, as are tho&longs;e which have &longs;ix and
eight Sides. I have &longs;een a Platform of ten
Angles very commodious and maje&longs;tick. You
may make them very well of twelve, nay, &longs;ix
teen Angles. I my&longs;elf have &longs;een one of twenty
four; but the&longs;e are very rare. The Side Lines
ought to be &longs;o ordered, that tho&longs;e which are
oppo&longs;ite may be equal to them, nor &longs;hould we
ever in any Work apply a long Line to corre&longs;
pond to a &longs;hort one; but let there be a ju&longs;t
and rea&longs;onable Proportion, according to the
Degree of the Thing, among all the Parts. We would have the Angles &longs;et towards that
Side, which either any Weight of Earth, or the
Violence and A&longs;&longs;aults of Waters or Winds may
threaten and endanger; to the Intent that the
Force and Shock that beats upon the Edifice
may be broken and &longs;plit into &longs;everal Parts, re
&longs;i&longs;ting the Attack (to u&longs;e &longs;uch an Expre&longs;&longs;ion)
with the &longs;tout Corner of the Wall, and not
with one of the weak Sides. But if the other
Lineaments of the Structure hinder you from
di&longs;po&longs;ing of &longs;uch an Angle in &longs;uch a Part as
you could de&longs;ire, at lea&longs;t make u&longs;e of a curve
Line; that being a Part of a Circle, and the
Circle it&longs;elf according to the Philo&longs;ophers be
ing all Angles. Further, the Seat mu&longs;t be
either upon a Plain, or on the Side or Top of
a Hill; if it is on a Plain, it is nece&longs;&longs;ary to
rai&longs;e the Earth and make &longs;omething of an E
minence; for be&longs;ides that, &longs;uch a Situation in
a Plain adds much of Dignity, if you neglect to
do it, you will find very great Inconveniences. For the overflowing of Rivers and Rains gene
rally leaves Mud upon level Grounds, which by
degrees rai&longs;es the Earth higher and higher,
which &longs;till increa&longs;es, if through Negligence the
Rubbi&longs;h and Dirt, which gathers every Day be
not removed.
&longs;ay, that &longs;everal Hills were ri&longs;en in
Time by the continual Fires. But we in our
Days &longs;ee it in a Manner quite buried under
Ground with Filth and Rubbi&longs;h. In the
Dutchy of
Temple, which at fir&longs;t was built in a Plain,
that is now almo&longs;t wholly buried by the rai&longs;
ing of the Earth; that Plain reaching to the
Foot of the Hills. But why &longs;hould I menti
on Buildings that &longs;tand under Mountains? That noble Temple by the Wall of
which has for its Covering a Cup of Stone of
one &longs;ingle Piece, though it be near the Sea and
far enough from the Hills, is above a fourth
Part &longs;unk in the Earth, through the Injury of
Time. But how high this Eminence ought
to be rai&longs;ed for each Platform, &longs;hall be &longs;hewn
in due Time, when we come to treat of that
Subject more particularly, and not &longs;ummarily
as we do here. It is certain every Situation
&longs;hould be made &longs;trong, either by Nature or
Art. And therefore it is not ami&longs;s to follow
their Method, who advi&longs;e fir&longs;t to try the Good
ne&longs;s of the Earth by digging in &longs;everal Places at
&longs;ome Di&longs;tance the one from the other, whe
ther it be firm or loo&longs;e, or &longs;oft, fit or unfit to
bear the Weight of the Wall. For if it &longs;tands
upon a De&longs;cent, we mu&longs;t have a Care that the
upper Part does not lie too heavy and break
down the lower; or that the lower Part, if
any Accident &longs;hould &longs;hake it, does not pull
the upper down along with it. I would have
this Part of the Building, which is intended to
be the Ba&longs;is of all the Re&longs;t, particularly &longs;trong
and tightly knit together in all its Parts. If
the Seat be upon the Summit of an Hill, either
it &longs;hould be rai&longs;ed where it is not even, or el&longs;e
be made level by plaining away the Top. But
here we are to con&longs;ider, that we &longs;hould always
chu&longs;e that Way (though &longs;till with a due Re
gard to the Dignity of the Work) which is lea&longs;t
trouble&longs;ome and expen&longs;ive. Perhaps it may be
proper to pare away &longs;ome of the Top of the
Hill, and enlarge and add to the Sides. For
which Rea&longs;on that Architect, whoever he was,
&longs;hewed a great deal of Contrivance, that built
&longs;eated upon a Rocky Hill; for he &longs;o ordered
ple (whatever it was) which are all that now
remain, the Super&longs;tructure being quite demo
li&longs;hed, &longs;hould be &longs;upported and &longs;ortified be
neath by the Pieces of Stone cut off in plaining
the Top of the Rock. And there is another
Thing in that Work that I am extremely
plea&longs;ed with; namely, that he &longs;et the Angle
of the Platform towards that Side on which
the Rock has the mo&longs;t precipitate De&longs;cent, and
fortified that Angle with huge Pieces of the
Fragments piled up one upon the other, and
contrived by the joyning of the Stones to make
the Structure beautiful with a very little Ex
pence. I am likewi&longs;e very much plea&longs;ed with
the Contrivance of that other Architect, who
not having a &longs;ufficient Quantity of Stone, in
order to keep up the Weight of the Hill, made
a Fence of a great Number of Semi-circles,
putting the Backs of the Curves within the
Hill; which be&longs;ides that it looked hand&longs;ome
to the Eye, was extremely &longs;trong and very
cheap; for it makes a Wall, which though not
&longs;olid, was as firm as if it had been &longs;olid, and of
the Thickne&longs;s of the I like
was ob&longs;erved by the ancient Archi ects all over
making u&longs;e of Buttre&longs;&longs;es; though they did not
every where mind to make the Di&longs;tance be
tween one Buttre&longs;s and another, to be the &longs;ame
as the Heighth of the Wall; but as the
Strength or Weakne&longs;s of the Hill required it,
they placed them &longs;ometimes clo&longs;er and &longs;ome
times further off. I have taken Notice too,
that the ancient Architects were not contented
with making one Slope for their Platform, but
rai&longs;ed &longs;everal like &longs;o many Steps, which
&longs;trengthened and &longs;ecured the Sides of the Hill
quite down to the very Root of it. Nor
can I di&longs;approve their Method herein. That
Stream at
continually undermining and eating away the
Root of the Mountain, by degrees brings down
all the impending Weight; by which means a
great Part of the Town drops and falls to
Ruin. I am mightily plea&longs;ed with that Num
ber of little Chapels, which are fixed about
the
for of the&longs;e, &longs;uch as are placed in the Hollows
of the Mountains clo&longs;e again&longs;t the Wall of the
Church, are of great Service both as to Strength
and Convenience, in &longs;upporting the Weight of
the Hill, which continually grows heavier and
heavier, and in intercepting the Wet, which
falls from the Top of the Cliff, and keeping it
from getting into the Church; by which means
the principal Wall of it keeps dry and &longs;ound. And tho&longs;e Chapels, which are placed on the
other Side at the lowe&longs;t Decline of the Hill,
&longs;erve with their Arches to clo&longs;e the Plain,
which is made above, and preventing the Earth
from crumbling keeps it from falling in. And
I have ob&longs;erved that the Architect, who built
the Temple of
Work and his Structure very ingeniou&longs;ly; for
he &longs;o placed the Angle of the Platform within
the impending Hill, that two upright Walls
&longs;upported the incumbent Weight, and divided
and broke the Pre&longs;&longs;ure by &longs;etting that Angle
again&longs;t it. But &longs;ince we have begun to cele
brate the Prai&longs;es of the Ancients that contriv
ed their Buildings prudently, I will not omit
one Thing which I recollect, and which is very
much to the pre&longs;ent Purpo&longs;e. In the Church
o&longs; St.
on of the Architect, who having made the
Foundation of the Temple very &longs;trong, le&longs;t
every here and there a Hole, that if by chance
any &longs;ubterraneous Vapour or Wind &longs;hould be
gathered there, it might ea&longs;ily find a Pa&longs;&longs;age
out. To conclude, all the Plains that you
make which are to be under any Covering,
mu&longs;t be laid exactly level, but tho&longs;e which are
to be left open, &longs;hould have ju&longs;t Slope enough
for the Rain to run off; but of this we have
&longs;aid enough, and perhaps more than was re
qui&longs;ite in this Place; becau&longs;e mo&longs;t of the&longs;e
Things re&longs;pect the Walling. But as they happen
ed to fall naturally together, we did not think
proper to &longs;eparate them in our Di&longs;cour&longs;e. It
remains that we treat of the Compartition.
PLATE 1.
“
“Arco Scemo” = imperfect arch.
“Arco Intiero”
= entire arch. “Raggio” = radius.
“Corda” = chord.
“Diametro” = diameter.
PLATE 2.
CHAP. IX.
The whole Force of the Invention and
all our Skill and Knowledge in the Art
of Building, is required in the Compartition:
Becau&longs;e the di&longs;tinct Parts of the entire Building,
and, to u&longs;e &longs;uch a Word, the Entirene&longs;s of each
of tho&longs;e Parts, and the Union and Agreement of
all the Lines and Angles in the Work, duly
ordered for Convenience, Plea&longs;ure and Beauty,
are di&longs;po&longs;ed and mea&longs;ured out by the Com
partition alone: for if a City, according to
the Opinion of Philo&longs;ophers, be no more than
a great Hou&longs;e, and, on the other Hand, a
Hou&longs;e be a little City; why may it not be
&longs;aid, that the Members of that Hou&longs;e are &longs;o
many little Hou&longs;es; &longs;uch as the Court-yard,
the Hall, the Parlour, the Portico, and the
like? And what is there in any of the&longs;e,
which, if omitted by Carele&longs;&longs;ne&longs;s or Negli
gence, will not greatly take from the Prai&longs;e
and Dignity of the Work. Great Care and
Diligence therefore is to be u&longs;ed in well con
&longs;idering the&longs;e Things, which &longs;o much con
cern the whole Building; and in &longs;o ordering
it, that even the mo&longs;t incon&longs;iderable Parts
may not be uncomformable to the Rules of
Art, and good Contrivance. What has been
already &longs;aid above of the Region and Platform,
may be of no &longs;mall u&longs;e in doing of this aptly
and conveniently; and as the Members of the
Body are corre&longs;pondent to each other, &longs;o it is
fit that one Part &longs;hould an&longs;wer to another in
a Building; whence we &longs;ay, that great Edi
fices require great Members. Which indeed
was &longs;o well ob&longs;erved by the Ancients, that
they u&longs;ed much larger Bricks, as well as other
Materials, about publick and large Buildings,
than in private ones. To every Member there
fore ought to be allotted its fit Place and pro
per Situation; not le&longs;s than Dignity requires,
not greater than Conveniency demands; not
in an impertinent or indecent Place, but in a
Situation &longs;o proper to it&longs;elf, that it could be
&longs;et no where el&longs;e more fitly. Nor &longs;hould the
Part of the Structure, that is to be of the
greate&longs;t Honour, be thrown into a remote
Corner; nor that which ought to be the mo&longs;t
publick, into a private Hole; nor that which
&longs;hould be mo&longs;t private, be &longs;et in too con&longs;pi
cuous a Place. We &longs;hould be&longs;ides have re
gard to the Sea&longs;ons of the Year, and make a
great deal of Difference between hot Places
and cold, both in Proportions and Situation. If Rooms for Summer are large and &longs;pacious,
and tho&longs;e for Winter more compact, it will
not be at all ami&longs;s; the Summer ones &longs;hady and
open to the Air, and the Winter ones to the
Sun. And here we &longs;hould provide, that the
Inhabitants may not be obliged to pa&longs;s out of
a cold Place into a hot one, without a Medium
of temperate Air; or out of a warm one into
one expo&longs;ed to Cold and Winds; becau&longs;e no
thing is &longs;o prejudicial to human Bodies. And
the&longs;e ought to agree one Member with ano
ther to perfect and compo&longs;e the main De&longs;ign
and Beauty of the whole; that we may not
&longs;o lay out our whole Study in adorning one
Part, as to leave the re&longs;t neglected and
homely in Compari&longs;on of it; but let them
bear that Proportion among them&longs;elves, that
they may appear to be an entire and perfect
Body, and not disjointed and unfini&longs;hed
Members. Moreover in the forming of the&longs;e
Members too, we ought to imitate the Mode&longs;ty
of Nature; becau&longs;e in this, as well as in other
Ca&longs;es, the World never commends a Modera
tion, &longs;o much as it blames an extravagant In
temperance in Building. Let the Members
therefore be mode&longs;tly proportioned, and ne
ce&longs;&longs;ary for your U&longs;es. For all Building in
general, if you con&longs;ider it well, owes it's
Birth to Nece&longs;&longs;ity, was nur&longs;ed by Convenience,
and embelli&longs;hed by U&longs;e; Plea&longs;ure was the
la&longs;t Thing con&longs;ulted in it, which is never
truly obtained by Things that are immode
rate. Let your Building therefore be &longs;uch,
that it may not want any Members which it
has not, and that tho&longs;e which it has, may
not in any Re&longs;pect de&longs;erve to be condemned. Nor would I have the Edifice terminated all
the Way with even continued Lines void of
all manner of Variety; for &longs;ome plea&longs;e us by
their Largene&longs;s, others with being little, and
others moderate. One Part therefore &longs;hould
be terminated with &longs;trait Lines, another with
curve, and another again with &longs;trait and curve
mixed together; provided you ob&longs;erve the
Caution I have &longs;o often given you, to avoid
falling into the Error of Exce&longs;s, &longs;o as to &longs;eem
portionable: Variety is without Di&longs;pute a very
great Beauty in every Thing, when it joins and
brings together, in a regular manner, Things
different, but proportionable to each other;
but it is rather &longs;hocking, if they are un&longs;uitable
and incoherent. For as in Mu&longs;ick, when the
Ba&longs;e an&longs;wers the Treble, and the Tenor agrees
with both, there ari&longs;es from that Variety of
Sounds an harmonious and wonderful Union
of Proportions which delights and enchants
our Sen&longs;es; &longs;o the like happens in every thing
el&longs;e that &longs;trikes and plea&longs;es our Fancy. La&longs;tly,
the&longs;e Things mu&longs;t be &longs;o executed, as U&longs;e or
Conveniency requires, or according to the
approved Practice of Men of Skill; becau&longs;e
deviating from e&longs;tabli&longs;hed Cu&longs;tom, generally
robs a Thing of its whole Beauty, as conform
ing to it, is applauded and attended with Suc
ce&longs;s. Neverthele&longs;s, tho' other famous Archi
tects &longs;eem, by their Practice, to have deter
mined this or that Compartition, whether
be the mo&longs;t convenient of any; yet they do
not thereby tie us down to follow them &longs;o
clo&longs;ely, as to tran&longs;cribe their very De&longs;igns into
this Work of ours; but only &longs;tir us up by
their In&longs;tructions to produce &longs;omething of
our own Invention, and to endeavour to ac
quire equal or greater Prai&longs;e than they did. But of the&longs;e Things we &longs;hall &longs;peak more di
&longs;tinctly in their proper Places, when we come
to con&longs;ider in what manner a City and its
Members ought to be di&longs;po&longs;ed, and every
thing nece&longs;&longs;ary for the Convenience of
each.
CHAP. X.
We are now to treat &longs;ummarily of the
Di&longs;po&longs;ition of the Wall. But here I
mu&longs;t not omit what I have ob&longs;erved among
the Ancients; namely, that they con&longs;tantly
avoided drawing any of the outer Lines of the
Platform quite &longs;trait, &longs;o as to let any great
Length go on without being interrupted by
the Concavity of &longs;ome curve Line, or the In
ter&longs;ection of &longs;ome Angle; and the Rea&longs;on
why tho&longs;e wi&longs;e Men did this is plain, that the
Wall, having, as it were, Props joined to it to
re&longs;t again&longs;t, might be &longs;o much the &longs;tronger. In treating of the Walling, we &longs;hould begin
with the mo&longs;t noble Parts of it. This Place
there&longs;ore naturally leads us to &longs;peak of the Co
lumns, and of the Things belonging to them;
a Row of Columns being indeed nothing el&longs;e
but a Wall open and di&longs;continued in &longs;everal
Places. And having occa&longs;ion to define a Co
lumn, it would not be at all improper to &longs;ay,
that it is a certain &longs;trong continued Part of
the Wall, carried up perpendicular from the
Foundation to the Top, for &longs;upporting the
Covering. In the whole Compa&longs;s of the Art
of Building, you will find nothing, that either
for Workman&longs;hip, Expence or Beauty, de
&longs;erves to be preferred before the Columns. But the&longs;e Columns having &longs;ome Particulars in
which they differ from one another; in this
Place we &longs;hall &longs;peak only of their Agreement;
becau&longs;e that regards the Genus of them; but
as to their Difference, which relates to their
Species, we &longs;hall handle it in its proper Place. To begin therefore as we may &longs;ay from the
Root, every Column has its Foundation; this
Foundation being brought up to a Level with
the Plane of the
thereupon a kind of little Wall, which we
&longs;hall call the Plinth, others perhaps may call
it the Dye; upon the Plinth &longs;tood the Ba&longs;e,
on the Ba&longs;e, the Column; and over the Co
lumn the Capital; their Proportion was, that
from the middle downwards, they were &longs;ome
what bigger, and from thence upwards grew
more and more taper, and that the Foot was
&longs;omething larger than the Top of all. I make
no doubt, that at fir&longs;t the Column was in
vented to &longs;upport the Covering. Afterwards
Men's Thoughts being &longs;tirred up to worthy
Attempts, they &longs;tudied, tho' them&longs;elves were
mortal, to make their Buildings in a Manner
immortal and eternal; and for this Rea&longs;on
they made Columns, Architraves, Intabla
tures, and Coverings all of Marble. And in
doing the&longs;e Things, the ancient Architects al
ways kept &longs;o clo&longs;e to Nature, as to &longs;eem, if
po&longs;&longs;ible, never to have con&longs;ulted any Thing
but mere Convenience in Building, and at the
&longs;ame Time made it their Care, that their
Works &longs;hould be not only &longs;trong and u&longs;eful, Nature at fir&longs;t
certainly gave us Columns made of Wood,
and of a round Figure, afterwards by U&longs;e they
came in &longs;ome Places to be cut &longs;quare. There
upon, if I judge right, &longs;eeing in the&longs;e wooden
Columns certain Rings of Circles of Bra&longs;s or
Iron, fa&longs;ten'd about the Top and Bottom, that
the continual Weight which they are made to
bear, might not &longs;plit them; the Architects too
left at the Foot of their Columns of Marble, a
little Ring like a &longs;ort of Binding; whereby
they are defended from any Drops of Rain that
might da&longs;h up again upon them. And at the
Top too they left another little Band, and over
that an A&longs;tragal or Collar; with which helps
they ob&longs;erv'd the Columns of Wood to be
fortified. In the Ba&longs;es of their Columns it
was their Rule, that the under Part &longs;hould
con&longs;i&longs;t of &longs;trait Lines and right Angles, but
that their upper Superficies &longs;hould terminate
circularly to an&longs;wer to the Round of the Pil
lar; and they made this Ba&longs;e on every Side
broader than high, and wider than the Column
by a determinate Part of it&longs;elf; and the under
Superficies of the Ba&longs;e they made broader than
the upper; the Plinth too they would have a
certain Proportion broader than the Ba&longs;e, and
the Foundation again a determinate Part wider
than the Plinth. And all the&longs;e Parts thus
placed one upon the other, they erected per
pendicular from the Center of the Foundation. On the other hand, the Capitals all agree in
this, that their under Parts imitate their
Columns, but their upper End in a Square;
and con&longs;equently the upper Part of the Capital
mu&longs;t always be &longs;omewhat broader than the
under. This may &longs;uffice here as to the
Columns. The Wall ought to be rai&longs;ed with
the &longs;ame Proportions as the Columns; &longs;o that
if it is to be as high as the Column and its Ca
pital, its Thickne&longs;s ought to be the &longs;ame with
that of the bottom of the Column. And they
al&longs;o ob&longs;erved this Rule, that there &longs;hou'd be
neither Pillar, nor Ba&longs;e, nor Capital, nor Wall,
but what &longs;hould in all re&longs;pects corre&longs;pond with
every thing el&longs;e of the &longs;ame Order, in Heighth,
Thickne&longs;s, Form and Dimen&longs;ion. But tho' both
are Faults, either to make the Wall too thin
or too thick, higher or lower than the Rule
and Proportion requires; yet of the two I
wou'd chu&longs;e to offend on that Side, where we
&longs;hou'd have occa&longs;ion to take away rather than
to add. And here I think it will not be ami&longs;s
to take notice of &longs;ome Errors in Buildings,
that we our &longs;elves may be the more circum
&longs;pect: in as much as the chief Prai&longs;e is to be
exempt from Blame. I have ob&longs;erved there
fore in St.
the thing it&longs;elf demon&longs;trates, that it was ill ad
vi&longs;ed to draw a very long and thick Wall over
&longs;o many frequent and continued Apertures,
without &longs;trength'ning it with any curve Lines
or any other Fortification what&longs;oever. And
what more de&longs;erves our Notice, all this Wing
of Wall, under which are too frequent and
continued Apertures, and which is rai&longs;ed to a
great Heighth, is expo&longs;ed as a Butt to the im
petuous Bla&longs;ts of the North-Ea&longs;t: by which
means already thro' the continual Violence of
the Winds it is &longs;werved from its Direction
above two Yards: and I doubt not that in a
&longs;hort time, &longs;ome little accidental &longs;hock will
throw it down into Ruins; and if it were not
kept in by the Timber Frame of the Roof, it
mu&longs;t infallibly have fallen down before now. But the Architect may not be &longs;o much in
Fault, becau&longs;e con&longs;ulting only the Nece&longs;&longs;ity of
his Situation, he might perhaps imagine that
the Neighbourhood of the Mountain, which
overlooks the Church, might be a &longs;ufficient
Shelter again&longs;t the Winds. Neverthele&longs;s it is
certain, tho&longs;e Wings ought to have been more
&longs;trengthned on both Sides.
CHAP. XI.
Parts of the Building, and that being various in their Natures, they mu&longs;t be
made of various Sorts.
The Covering for U&longs;efulne&longs;s far exceeds
any other Part of the Building. It
not only &longs;ecures the Health of the Inhabitants
by defending them from the Night, from the
Rain, and e&longs;pecially from the burning Rays of
the Sun; but it al&longs;o pre&longs;erves all the re&longs;t of the
Edifice. Take away the Covering and the
Materials rot, the Wall moulders and &longs;plits, The very Foundations them&longs;elves, which you
will hardly bèlieve, are &longs;ecured by the Pro
tection of the Covering: nor have &longs;o many
Buildings been de&longs;troyed by Fire, Sword, War,
by Multitude of Enemies, and all other Ca
lamities put together, as have gone to Ruin
by being left naked and uncovered thro Negli
gence. It is certain the Coverings are the de
fen&longs;ive Arms of the Building again&longs;t the
A&longs;&longs;aults and Violence of Storms and Tempe&longs;ts. Wherefore our Ance&longs;tors in this as in other
things acted very laudably, in a&longs;cribing &longs;o
much Honour to the Covering, that they
&longs;pent their whole Art and Study in adorning
and beautifying it. For &longs;ome of their Cover
ings we &longs;ee of Bra&longs;s, others of Gla&longs;s, &longs;ome of
Gold with gilded Beams and Rafters, and
richly adorned with Corni&longs;hes of Flowers and
Statues. Of Coverings &longs;ome are open to the
Air, others not: the open are tho&longs;e which are
not for walking upon, but only for receiving
the Rain. Tho&longs;e not open to the Air, are
the Roofs and Coves that are between the
Covering and the Foundations, &longs;o that one
Hou&longs;e &longs;eems to &longs;tand upon another. By this
means it comes to pa&longs;s that the &longs;ame Work,
which is the Covering to the Apartments
below, is the Of the&longs;e
Coverings tho&longs;e above our Heads we call Roofs,
or Cielings; and tho&longs;e which we tread upon
with our Feet, Whether the uppermoft
Covering, which lies to the open Air, is to be
reckoned as an
examine in another Place. But the Covering
to the open Air, tho' it be of a plain Super
ficies, ought never to lie even with re&longs;pect to
the
always incline of one Side to throw off the
Rain. But the Coverings within, that are of
a plain Superficies, &longs;hould be in all Parts
equally di&longs;tant from the Floor. All Coverings
mu&longs;t an&longs;wer in Lines and Angles to the Form
and Shape of the Platform and Wall which
they are to cover: And as tho&longs;e are various,
&longs;ome being all of curve Lines, others all of
&longs;trait, and others of both mixed together, the
Coverings too are therefore various, and of
&longs;everal kinds. But tho' they have this natural
Difference, and that &longs;ome are hemi&longs;pherical;
others made up of four Arches; others vaulted;
others con&longs;i&longs;ting of Parts of &longs;everal Arches;
&longs;ome &longs;loping or ridged like ordinary mean
Hou&longs;es: yet which-&longs;oever of the&longs;e Kinds we
chu&longs;e it is ab&longs;olutely nece&longs;&longs;ary, that all Cover
ings &longs;hou'd be &longs;o di&longs;po&longs;ed as to &longs;helter and
&longs;hade the Pavement, and throw off all Water
and Rain, defending the whole Edifice upon
which it is placed for a Covering. For Rain
is always prepared to do Mi&longs;chief, and where
ever there is the lea&longs;t Crack never fails to get
in and do &longs;ome Hurt or other: By its Subtility it
penetrates and makes its way by its Humidity
rots and de&longs;troys, by its Continuance loo&longs;ens
and unknits all the Nerves of the Building, and
in the End ruins and lays Wa&longs;te the whole
Structure to the very Foundations. And for
this Rea&longs;on prudent Architects have always
taken care that the Rain &longs;hould have a free
Slope to run off; and that the Water &longs;hould
never be &longs;top'd in any Place, or get into any
Part where it cou'd do Hurt. And therefore
they advi&longs;ed, that in Places &longs;ubject to much
Snow, the Coverings &longs;hould have a very &longs;teep
Slope, ri&longs;ing even to an acute Angle, that the
Snow might never re&longs;t and gather upon them,
but fall off ea&longs;ily; but in more Summeri&longs;h Cli
mates (to u&longs;e &longs;uch an Expre&longs;&longs;ion) they laid
their Covering le&longs;s oblique. La&longs;tly we &longs;hould
endeavour if po&longs;&longs;ible, without Prejudice to the
Lights or Wall, to have the whole Structure
overlaid with one equal Covering in a manner
all of one Piece, and &longs;o far jutting out, that the
Water falling from the Gutters may not wet
or &longs;oak into the Wall: and all the Coverings
&longs;hould be &longs;o di&longs;po&longs;ed, where there are more than
one, that one may not &longs;pout upon the other. The Space of Covering too that the Water is
to run over &longs;hould never be too large, becau&longs;e
upon Rains the Water gathering in the Gut
ters in too great Abundance would wa&longs;h back
again and flow into the Hou&longs;e; which would
greatly prejudice the whole Work. Where
the
&longs;hould be divided into &longs;everal Slopes, and the
Rain flow off in different Places; and this is
not only attended with Convenience, but Beauty
too. If you are obliged in any Place to have
&longs;everal Coverings, let them join one to another
in &longs;uch a Manner, that when you are once
under one, you may pa&longs;s from that to all the
re&longs;t always under &longs;helter.
CHAP. XII.
and of tho&longs;e which do not take up the whole Thickne&longs;s of the Wall, and their
Number and Sizes.
We are now come to treat of the Aper
tures, which are of two Sorts, the one
&longs;erving for the Admi&longs;&longs;ion of Light and Air,
and the other for the Entrance and Pa&longs;&longs;age of
the Inhabitants, and of all Manner of Con
veniencies all thro' the Hou&longs;e. Tho&longs;e for
Light are the Windows; tho&longs;e for Pa&longs;&longs;age, the
Doors, Stairs, and the Spaces between the
Columns: Tho&longs;e too which are for the carrying
away of Water and Smoak, as Wells, Sinks,
the Gullets, as we may call them of Chimneys,
the Mouths of Ovens and Furnaces are al&longs;o
called Apertures. No Room ought to be
without a Window, by which the inclo&longs;ed
Air may be let out and renew'd, becau&longs;e el&longs;e
it will corrupt and grow unwhole&longs;ome.
tolinus
ple of
tle Gold Casket of very great Antiquity, upon
opening of which there i&longs;&longs;ued a Steam of Air,
corrupted by Length of Time, and &longs;o poi&longs;onous,
that &longs;preading it&longs;elf abroad, it not only killed
every body that was near, but infected all
with a mo&longs;t dreadful Plague quite as far as
thia. In the Hi&longs;tory of
we read, that in
Anthony
Spoiling of the Temple, and carrying away
the Image of the
di&longs;covered a little Hole which had been formerly
&longs;top'd up by the
opened by the Soldiers, out of a greedy De&longs;ire
of Plunder, &longs;ent forth a Vapour &longs;o dreadfully
pe&longs;tilential and infectious, that from the Con
fines of
try was tainted with a mortal and loath&longs;ome
Di&longs;temper. Every Room therefore &longs;hould
have Windows, not only to let in the Light,
but to renew the Air; and they ought to be
&longs;o accommodated to Convenience and the
Thickne&longs;s of the Wall, as not to admit more
remote than U&longs;e and Nece&longs;&longs;ity requires. Morevover we are to take notice what Winds
our Windows are to &longs;tand open to; becau&longs;e
tho&longs;e which look towards a healthy Air may
be allow'd to be large every Way; and it will not
be ami&longs;s to open them in &longs;uch Manner that the Air
may go clear round the Bodies of the Inhabitants;
which may ea&longs;ily be contrived, if the Jambs of
the Windows are made &longs;o low, that you may
both &longs;ee and be &longs;een &longs;rom the In&longs;ide into the
Street. But &longs;uch Windows as are expo&longs;ed to
Winds not altogether &longs;o healthy, ought to be
&longs;o proportion'd as to admit what Light is
requi&longs;ite, but not any Thing larger than is ju&longs;t
nece&longs;&longs;ary for that U&longs;e; and they &longs;hould like
wife be &longs;et high, that the Wall may break the
Winds before they reach us: Becau&longs;e by this
means we &longs;hall have Wind enough to renew
our Air, but &longs;o interrupted as to take off from
the ill Effects of it. We &longs;hould al&longs;o ob&longs;erve
what Suns our Hou&longs;e &longs;tands to, and according
to various Conveniencies make the Windows
larger or &longs;maller. In Summer Apartments, if
the Windows are to the North, they &longs;hould be
made large every Way; but if they are to the
South Sun, it will be proper to make them low
and &longs;mall; &longs;uch being be&longs;t adapted for Re
ception of the Air, and lea&longs;t liable to be of
fended by the Sun's Rays; and there is no
Danger &longs;uch a Place &longs;hould ever want Light,
when the Sun lies in a Manner continually
upon it; &longs;o that Shade and not Light is what
is to be con&longs;ulted there. On the contrary in
Apartments for Winter, the Windows will be
be&longs;t contrived for admitting the Sun if they
are made large, and yet we may avoid being
troubled by the Winds at the &longs;ame Time, if we
place them high, &longs;o that the cold Air may not
blow directly upon the People within. La&longs;tly
from whatever Side we take in the Light, we
ought to make &longs;uch an Opening for it, as may
always give us a free Sight of the Sky, and the
Top of that Opening ought never to be too
low, becau&longs;e we are to &longs;ee the Light with our
Eyes; and not with our Heels; be&longs;ides the In
convenience, that if one Man gets between
nother and the Window, the Light is inter
cepted, and all the re&longs;t of the Room is
darken'd, which never happens when the Light
comes from above. The Doors &longs;hould imitate
the Windows, that is, be larger or &longs;maller,
more or fewer, according to the Frequency or
Nece&longs;&longs;ity of the Place. But I ob&longs;erve, that
eft a great many of both the afore-mention'd
Kinds of Apertures. This appears from their
Theatres, which if we ob&longs;erve are extremely
full of Apertures, not only Stair-ca&longs;es, but
Windows and Doors. And we ought &longs;o to
order the Proportions of the&longs;e Openings, as
not to make very little ones in great Walls,
nor too large in &longs;mall ones. In the&longs;e Sorts of
Apertures various De&longs;igns have been com
mended; but the be&longs;t Architects have never
made U&longs;e of any but Squares and &longs;trait Lines. However all have agreed in this, that let them
be of what Shape they will, they &longs;hould be ac
modated to the Bigne&longs;s and Form of the
Building. *The Doors, then they
fay &longs;hould always be more high than
broad; and the highe&longs;t be &longs;uch as
are capable of receiving two Circles [A] one
upon t'other, and the lowe&longs;t &longs;hould be of
the Heighth of the Diagonal of a Square [B]
whereof the Ground&longs;ell is one of the Sides. It
is al&longs;o convenient to place the Doors in &longs;uch a
Manner, that they may lead to as many Parts
of the Edifice as po&longs;&longs;ible: And in order to give
Beauty to &longs;uch Apertures, Care mu&longs;t be taken
that tho&longs;e of like Dimen&longs;ions corre&longs;pond with
each other both on the Right and Left. It was
u&longs;ual to leave the Windows and Doors in odd
Numbers, but &longs;o as for the Side ones to an&longs;wer
each other, and that in the Middle to be
&longs;omewhat larger than the re&longs;t. And particular
Regard was always had to the Strength of the
Building, for which Rea&longs;on they contrived to
&longs;et the Openings clear from the Corners and
from the Columns, in the weake&longs;t Parts of the
Wall, but not &longs;o weak as to be in&longs;ufficient to
&longs;upport the Weight: It being their Cu&longs;tom
to rai&longs;e as many Parts of the Wall as they
could plum, and as it were of one Piece
without any Interruption from the Foundation
quite up to the Covering. There is a certain
Kind of an Aperture, which in Form and
Po&longs;ition imitates the Doors and Windows, but
which does not penetrate the whole Thickne&longs;s
of the Wall, and &longs;o, as Niches leave very
hand&longs;ome and convenient Seats for Statues and
Paintings. But in what Parts the&longs;e are to be
left, as al&longs;o how frequent and large, will be
&longs;hewn more di&longs;tinctly when we come to treat
of the Ornaments of Edifices. We &longs;hall only
ob&longs;erve here, that they not only add to the
Beauty of the Work, but al&longs;o &longs;ave &longs;ome Ex
pence, as they make le&longs;s Stone and Lime to
&longs;erve for the Walling. This chiefly is to be
taken Care of, that you make the&longs;e Niches in
convenient Numbers, not too big, and of a ju&longs;t
Form; and &longs;o as in their Order to imitate the
Windows. And let them be as you will, I
have remark'd in the Structures of the Ancients,
that they never u&longs;ed to &longs;uffer them to take up
above the &longs;eventh Part of the Front, nor le&longs;s
than the ninth. The Spaces between the
Columns are to be reckoned among the princi
pal Apertures, and are to be le&longs;t variou&longs;ly ac
cording to the Variety of Buildings. But we
&longs;hall &longs;peak of the&longs;e more clearly in their
proper Place, and chie&longs;ly when we treat of
Sacred Edifies. Let it be &longs;ufficient to premi&longs;e
here, that tho&longs;e Openings &longs;hould be left in &longs;uch
a Manner, as to have particular Re&longs;pect to the
Nature of the Columns, which are de&longs;ign'd
for the Support of the Covering; and fir&longs;t, that
tho&longs;e Columns be not too &longs;mall, nor &longs;tand too
thin, &longs;o as not to be duly able to bear the
Weight, nor too big, or &longs;et &longs;o thick as not to
leave open convenient Spaces for Pa&longs;&longs;age. La&longs;tly, the Apertures mu&longs;t be different, when
the Columns are frequent from what they are
when they &longs;tand thin, becau&longs;e over frequent
Columns we lay an Architrave, and over the
others we turn an Arch. But in all Openings
over which we make Arches, we &longs;hould con
trive to have the Arch never le&longs;s than a half
Circle, with an Addition of the &longs;eventh Part
of half its Diameter: The mo&longs;t experienced
Workmen having found that Arch to be by
much the be&longs;t adapted for enduring in a
Manner to Perpetuity; all other Arches being
thought le&longs;s &longs;trong for &longs;upporting the Weight,
and more liable to ruin. It is moreover imagi
ned, that the half Circle is the only Arch
which has no Occa&longs;ion either for Chain or any
other Fortification; and all others, if you
don't either chain them or place &longs;ome Weight
again&longs;t them for a Counterpoi&longs;e, are found by
their own Weight to bur&longs;t out and fall to ruin. I will not omit here what I have taken Notice
of among the Ancients, a Contrivance certainly
very excellent and Prai&longs;e-worthy: Their be&longs;t
Architects placed the&longs;e Apertures and the
Arches of the Roofs of their Temples in &longs;uch
a Manner, that even tho' you took away every
Column from under them, yet they would
&longs;till &longs;tand firm and not fall down, the Arches
on which the Roof was placed being drawn
quite down to the Foundation with wonderful
Art, known but to few: So that the Work
upheld it&longs;elf by being only &longs;et upon Arches; for
tho&longs;e Arches having the &longs;olid Earth for their
Chain, no Wonder they &longs;tood firm without any
other Support.
(facing
page 13)
CHAP. XIII.
ought to be in odd Numbers, and how many. Of the re&longs;ting Places, of the
Tunnels for carrying away the Smoke. Of Pipes and Conduits for carrying
off the Water, and of the proper Placing of Wells and Sinks.
The placing of the Stairs is a Work of
&longs;uch Nicety, that without deliberate
and mature Con&longs;ideration you can never place
them well: For in a Stair-ca&longs;e there meet
three Apertures: One, the Door by which you
enter upon the Stairs; another, the Window
that &longs;upplies you with Light to &longs;ee the Steps
by, and the third, the Opening in the Ceiling
which lets you into the
therefore it is &longs;aid to be no Wonder, that the
Stairs &longs;hould perplex the De&longs;ign of a Structure;
but let him that is de&longs;irous to have the Stair
not hinder him, take Caré not to hinder the
Stair, but allow it a determinate and ju&longs;t Por
tion of the Platform, in order to give its free
Cour&longs;e quite up to the Covering at the Top
of all. And do not let us repine that the
Stair-ca&longs;e &longs;hould take up &longs;o much of the
for it furni&longs;hes us with very many Conve
niencies, and is no Inconvenience to the other
Parts of the Building. Add to this, that
tho&longs;e little Vaults and Spaces under the Stairs
are very &longs;erviceable for a great many Purpo&longs;es. Our Stair-ca&longs;es therefore are of two Sorts (for
as to tho&longs;e Steps or Ladders which belong to
military Expeditions, I &longs;hall not &longs;peak of them
here.) The fir&longs;t is that which has no Steps, but
is mounted by a &longs;loping A&longs;cent, and the other
is that which is mounted by Steps. The An
cients u&longs;ed to make the &longs;loping one as ea&longs;y
and as little &longs;teep as po&longs;&longs;ible, and as I have
ob&longs;erved from their Works, thought it a con
venient A&longs;cent when the highe&longs;t Part of its
Perpendicular was rai&longs;ed one &longs;ixth Part of the
Line at Bottom. In making of Stair-ca&longs;es
with Steps, they recommend the making of
the Steps in odd Numbers, and e&longs;pecially in
their Temples: Becau&longs;e they &longs;aid that by this
Means we always &longs;et our right Foot into the
Temple fir&longs;t; which was accounted a Point
of Religion. And I have ob&longs;erved, that the
be&longs;t Architects never put above &longs;even, or at
mo&longs;t nine Steps together in one Flight; imita
ting I &longs;uppo&longs;e, the Number either of the
Planets or of the Heavens; but at the End of
the&longs;e &longs;even or nine Steps, they very con&longs;ider
ately made a Plain, that &longs;uch as were weak or
tired with the Fatigue of the A&longs;cent, might
have Lei&longs;ure to re&longs;t them&longs;elves, and that if they
&longs;hould chance to &longs;tumble, there might be a
Place to break their Fall, and give them Means
to recover them&longs;elves. And I am thoroughly
of Opinion, that the Stairs ought to be
frequently interrupted by the&longs;e landing Places,
and that they &longs;hould be well lighted, and be
ample and &longs;pacious according to the Dignity
of the Place. The Steps they never made
higher than nine Inches, nor lower than fix,
and in Breadth never le&longs;s than a Foot and a
half, nor more than a Yard, The fewer Stair
ca&longs;es that are in a Hou&longs;e, and the le&longs;s Room
they take up, the more convenient they are
e&longs;teem'd. The I&longs;&longs;ues for Smoak and Water
ought to be as direct as po&longs;&longs;ible, and &longs;o built,
that they may not lie and gather within, or
&longs;oil, or offend, or endanger the Building For
this Rea&longs;on too the Tunnels of the Chimnies
&longs;hould be carried quite clear from all Manner
of Wood-work, for fear &longs;ome Spark, or their
meer Heat &longs;hould &longs;et Fire to the Beams or
Rafters that are near them. The Drains al&longs;o
for carrying off the Water &longs;hould be &longs;o con
trived, as to convey away all Super&longs;luities, and
in their Pa&longs;&longs;age not to do any Harm to the
Hou&longs;e, either by &longs;apping or dirtying it. For
if any of the&longs;e Things do Mi&longs;chief, let it be
ever &longs;o little, yet by Length of Time and con
tinuation, they will in the End be of the utmo&longs;t
ill Con&longs;equence; and I have ob&longs;erved, that
the be&longs;t Architects have contrived either to
throw off the Rain by Spouts, &longs;o as not to wet
any body that is going into the Hou&longs;e, or car
ried it thro Pipes into Ci&longs;terns to &longs;erve for U&longs;e,
or el&longs;e brought it together to &longs;ome Place
where it might wa&longs;h away all the Filth, &longs;o that
the Eyes and No&longs;es of the Inhabitants might
not be offended with it. Indeed they &longs;eem
to have been particularly careful to throw the
Rain Water clear away from the Building,
that it might not &longs;ap the Foundations, as well In a Word,
they were very ob&longs;ervant to make all their
Apertures in the mo&longs;t convenient Places, and
where they might be mo&longs;t &longs;erviceable. I am
particularly for having the Wells &longs;et in the
mo&longs;t publick and open Part of the Structure,
&longs;o that they do not take off from the Dignity
of the Work, by being &longs;et in a Place improper
for them; and the Naturali&longs;ts affirm, that
Water mo&longs;t expo&longs;ed and open is be&longs;t and mo&longs;t
purified. But in whatever Part of the Building
you make either Wells or Drains, or any other
Conveyance for the Water, they ought to
have &longs;uch Apertures, as to admit a good
Quantity of Air, that the Pavement may be
kept dry from the damp Exhalations, which
will be purged and carried off by the Pa&longs;&longs;age
of the Winds, and the Motion of the Air. We have now taken a &longs;ufficient Review of the
De&longs;igns of Buildings, as far as they &longs;eem to
relate to the Work in general, noting each Par
ticular by it&longs;elf that we intend to &longs;peak of. We are now to treat of the Work it&longs;elf and
of the Structure of Edifies. But fir&longs;t we will
con&longs;ider of the Materials, and of the Prepara
tions nece&longs;&longs;ary for the Materials.
THE
OF
BOOK II. CHAP. I.
That no Man ought to begin a Building ha&longs;tily
but &longs;hould fir&longs;t take a good deal of Time to con&longs;ider, and revolve in his Mind
all the Qualities and Requi&longs;ites of &longs;uch a Work: And that he &longs;hould carefull
review and examine, with the Advice of proper Judges, the whole Structuly
in it&longs;elf, and the Proportions and Mea&longs;ures of every di&longs;tinct Part, not o re
in Draughts or Paintings, but in actual Models of Wood or &longs;ome othe Sunly
&longs;tance, that when he has fini&longs;h'd his Building, he may not repent of his Labour.
I do not think the Labour and
Expence of a Building to be en
ter'd upon in a hurry; as well
for &longs;everal other Rea&longs;ons, as
al&longs;o becau&longs;e a Man's Honour and
Reputation &longs;uffers by it. For as a De&longs;ign
well and compleatly fini&longs;h'd brings Prai&longs;e to
him that has employ'd his Pains and Study in
the Work; &longs;o if in any particular the Author
&longs;eems to have been wanting, either of Art or
Prudence, it detracts very much from that
Prai&longs;e, and from his Reputation. And indeed
the Beauties or Faults of Edifices, e&longs;pecially
publick ones, are in a Manner clear and mani
fe&longs;t to every body; and (I know not how it
happens) any Thing ami&longs;s &longs;ooner draws Con
tempt, than any Thing hand&longs;ome or well
fini&longs;h'd does Commendation. It is really won
derful, how, by a Kind of natural In&longs;tinct, all
of us knowing or ignorant, immediately hit upon
what is right or wrong in the Contrivance or
Execution of Things, and what a &longs;hrewd Judg
ment the Eye has in Works of this Nature
above all the other Sen&longs;es. Whence it happens,
that if any Thing offers it&longs;elf to us that is
lame or too little, or unnece&longs;&longs;ary, or un
graceful, we pre&longs;ently find our&longs;elves moved
and de&longs;irous to have it hand&longs;omer. The Rea
&longs;ons of tho&longs;e Faults perhaps we may not all of
us be acquainted with, and yet if we were to
&longs;ay, that &longs;uch a Thing might be remedied and
corrected. Indeed every one cannot propo&longs;e
the Remedy, but only &longs;uch as are well practi
ced and experienced that Way. It is therefore
the Part of a wi&longs;e Man to weigh and review
every particular thoroughly in his Mind: That
he may not afterwards be forced to &longs;ay, either
in the Middle or at the End of this Work, I
wi&longs;h this, or I wi&longs;h that were otherwi&longs;e. And
it is really &longs;urprizing, what a hearty Puni&longs;h
ment a Man &longs;uffers for a Work ill managed:
For in Proce&longs;s of Time, he him&longs;elf at Length
finds out the Mi&longs;takes he fooli&longs;hly made in the
Beginning for want of due Reflection: And
then, unle&longs;s he pulls it to pieces and reforms
it, he is continually repenting and fretting at
the Eye-&longs;ore; or if he pulls it down, he is
blamed upon Account of the Lo&longs;s and Expence,
and accu&longs;ed of Levity and In&longs;tability of Mind.
begun a Structure at the Lake
the very Foundations, and compleated it at
va&longs;t Expence, pull'd it all down again, becau&longs;e
it was not exactly in all re&longs;pects to his Mind. For which he is certainly very much to be
blamed, even by us his Po&longs;terity, either for
not &longs;ufficiently con&longs;idering what was requi&longs;ite
at fir&longs;t, or el&longs;e afterwards for di&longs;liking thro'
Levity what might really not be ami&longs;s. I
therefore always highly commend the ancient
Cu&longs;tom of Builders, who not only in Draughts
and Paintings, but in real Models of Wood or
other Sub&longs;tance, examin'd and weigh'd over
and over again, with the Advice of Men of the
be&longs;t Experience, the whole Work and the Ad
mea&longs;urements of all its Parts, before they put
them&longs;elves to the Expence or Trouble. By
making a Model you will have an Opportunity,
thoroughly to weigh and con&longs;ider the Form
and Situation of your Platform with re&longs;pect to
the Region, what Extent is to be allow'd to
it, the Number and Order of the Parts, how
the Walls are to be made, and how &longs;trong and
firm the Covering; and in a Word all tho&longs;e
Particulars which we have &longs;poken of in the
preceding Book: And there you may ea&longs;ily
and freely add, retrench, alter, renew, and in
&longs;hort change every Thing from one End to
t'other, till all and every one of the Parts are
ju&longs;t as you would have them, and without Fault. Add likewi&longs;e, that you may then examine and
compute (what is by no means to be neglected)
the Particulars and Sum of your future Ex
pence, the Size, Heighth, Thickne&longs;s, Num
ber, Extent, Form, Species and Quality of
all the Parts, how they are to be made, and
by what Artificers; becau&longs;e you will thereby
have a clear and di&longs;tinct Idea of the Numbers
and Forms of your Columns, Capitals, Ba&longs;es,
Corni&longs;hes, Pediments, Incru&longs;tations, Pave
ments, Statues and the like, that relates either
to the Strength or Ornament. I mu&longs;t not
omit to ob&longs;erve, that the making of curious,
poli&longs;h'd Models, with the Delicacy of Painting,
is not required from an Architect that only
de&longs;igns to &longs;hew the real Thing it&longs;elf; but is
rather the Part of a vain Architect, that makes
it his Bu&longs;ine&longs;s by charming the Eye and
&longs;triking the Fancy of the Beholder, to divert
him from a rigorous Examination of the Parts
which he ought to make, and to draw him
into an Admiration of him&longs;elf. For this Rea
&longs;on I would not have the Models too exactly
fini&longs;h'd, nor too delicate and neat, but plain
and &longs;imple, more to be admired for the Con
trivance of the Inventor, than the Hand of
the Workman. Between the De&longs;ign of the
Painter and that of the Architect, there is this
Difference, that the Painter by the Exactne&longs;s
of his Shades, Lines and Angles, endeavours
to make the Parts &longs;eem to ri&longs;e from the Can
va&longs;s, whereas the Architect, without any Re
gard to the Shades, makes his Relieves from
the De&longs;ign of his Platform, as one that would
have his Work valued, not by the apparent
Per&longs;pective, but by the real Compartments
founded upon Rea&longs;on. In a Word, you ought
to make &longs;uch Models, and con&longs;ider them by
your&longs;elf, and with others &longs;o diligently, and
examine them over and over &longs;o often, that
there &longs;hall not be a &longs;ingle Part in your whole
Structure, but what you are thoroughly ac
quainted with, and know what Place and how
much Room it is to po&longs;&longs;e&longs;s, and to what U&longs;e to
be applied. But above all, nothing requires
our Attention &longs;o much as the Covering, which
&longs;eems in its Nature, if I mi&longs;take not, beyond
any Thing el&longs;e in Architecture to have been
of the greate&longs;t and fir&longs;t Convenience to Man
kind; &longs;o that indeed it mu&longs;t be own'd, that
it was upon the Account of this Covering that
they invented not only the Wall and tho&longs;e
other Parts which are carried up with the Wall
and nece&longs;&longs;arily accompany it, but al&longs;o tho&longs;e
Parts which are made under Ground, &longs;uch as
Conduits, Channels, Receptacles of Rain
Water, Sewers and the like. For my Part,
that have had no &longs;mall Experience in Things of
this Nature, I indeed know the Difficulty of
join'd with Dignity, Convenience and Beauty,
having not only other Things prai&longs;e-worthy,
but al&longs;o a Variety of Ornaments, &longs;uch as
Decency and Proportion requires; and this no
Que&longs;tion is a very great Matter; but to cover
all the&longs;e with a proper, convenient and apt
Covering, is the Work of none but a very
great Ma&longs;ter. To conclude, when the whole
Model and the Contrivance of all the Parts
greatly plea&longs;es both your&longs;elf and others of
good Experience, &longs;o that you have not the
lea&longs;t Doubt remaining within your&longs;elf, and do
not know of any Thing that wants the lea&longs;t
Re-examination; even then I would advi&longs;e
you not to run furiou&longs;ly to the Execution out
of a Pa&longs;&longs;ion for Building, demoli&longs;hing old
Structures, or laying mighty Foundations of
the whole Work, which ra&longs;h and incon&longs;iderate
Men are apt to do; but if you will hearken
to me, lay the Thoughts of it a&longs;ide for &longs;ome
Time, till this favourite Invention grows old. Then take a fre&longs;h Review of every Thing,
when not being guided by a Fondne&longs;s for your
Invention, but by the Truth and Rea&longs;on of
Things you will be capable of judging more
clearly. Becau&longs;e in many Ca&longs;es Time will
di&longs;cover a great many Things to you, worth
Con&longs;ideration and Reflection, which, be you
ever &longs;o accurate, might before e&longs;cape you.
CHAP. II.
Nature, and that we ought al&longs;o not only to con&longs;ider what we can do,
but what is &longs;it for us to do, and in what Place it is that we are to
build.
On examining your Model, among other
Points to be con&longs;ider'd, you mu&longs;t take
Care not to forget the&longs;e. Fir&longs;t, not to under
take a Thing, which is above the Power of
Man to do, and not to pretend to &longs;trive directly
contrary to the Nature of Things. For Na
ture, if you force or wre&longs;t her out of her Way,
whatever Strength you may do it with, will
yet in the End overcome and break thro' all
Oppo&longs;ition and Hindrance; and the mo&longs;t ob
&longs;tinate Violence (to u&longs;e &longs;uch an Expre&longs;&longs;ion)
will at la&longs;t be forced to yield to her daily and
continual Per&longs;everence a&longs;&longs;i&longs;ted by Length of
Time. How many of the mighty Works of
Men do we read of, and know our&longs;elves to
have been de&longs;troy'd by no other Cau&longs;e than
that they contended again&longs;t Nature? Who
does not laugh at him, that having made a
Bridge upon Ships, intended to ride over the
Sea? or rather, who does not hate him for his
Folly and In&longs;olence? The Haven of
below
cina,
to Eternity, yet now having their Mouths
&longs;top'd with Sand, and their Beds quite choak'd
up, they have been long &longs;ince totally de&longs;troy'd
by the continual A&longs;&longs;aults of the Sea, which in
ce&longs;&longs;antly wa&longs;hing again&longs;t it gains from it daily. What then think ye will happen in any Place,
where you pretend to oppo&longs;e or entirely repel
the Violence of Water, or the enormous
Weight of Rocks tumbling down on you in
Ruins? This being con&longs;ider'd, we ought never
to undertake any Thing that is not exactly
agreeable to Nature; and moreover we &longs;hould
take Care not to enter upon a Work in which
we may be &longs;o much wanting to our&longs;elves as to
be forced to leave it imperfect. Who would
not have blamed
if the Gods had not favoured the Greatne&longs;s of
the City, and if by the Enlargement of the
Empire he had not received an Acce&longs;&longs;ion of
Wealth &longs;ufficient to compleat the Magnificence
of his Beginning, for throwing away the whole
Expence of his future Work in laying the
Foundations of his Temple. Be&longs;ides it is not
ami&longs;s to con&longs;ider, and that not in the la&longs;t
Place, not only what you are able, but al&longs;o
what is decent for you to do. I do not com
mend
and the Wonder of her Days, for building her
&longs;elf a Sepulcher of incredible Expence: For
though &longs;he might po&longs;&longs;ibly by her Whoredom
have acquired the Riches of a Queen, yet &longs;he
was by no means worthy of a Royal Sepulcher. But on the other Hand I do not blame
mi&longs;ia,
beloved and worthy Con&longs;ort a mo&longs;t &longs;tately
I think Mode&longs;ty is be&longs;t.
Building. I commend him, who according to
but extremely durable. And though it be
true that private Monuments require Mode&longs;ty
and publick ones Magnificence; yet publick
ones too are &longs;ometimes prai&longs;ed for being as
mode&longs;t as the others. We admire
Theatre for the &longs;urprizing Greatne&longs;s and Dig
nity of the Work: A Work truly worthy of
Victories: but
Building, and mad Pa&longs;&longs;ion for Undertaking im
men&longs;e De&longs;igns, is commended by nobody. And be&longs;ides, who would not rather have
wi&longs;h'd, that he who employ'd &longs;o many thou
&longs;and Men to bore through the Hill near
zuolo,
the &longs;ame Expence upon &longs;ome Work of greater
U&longs;e? Who will not dete&longs;t the mon&longs;trous Folly
and Vanity of
of erecting a huge Column with Stairs on the
In&longs;ide of it to mount to the Top, whereon
which he pretended to make him&longs;elf. But not
being able to find a Stone of that Bigne&longs;s, tho'
he &longs;ought for it quite to
from his wild De&longs;ign. Hereunto we may add,
that we ought not to begin a Thing, which
though in &longs;ome Re&longs;pects worthy and u&longs;eful,
and not altogether &longs;o difficult of Execution,
&longs;ome particular Opportunity or Means &longs;avouring
it at that Time, that yet is of a Nature to &longs;all
&longs;oon to decay, either thro' the Neglience of
Succe&longs;&longs;ors, or Di&longs;like of the Inhabitants. I
therefore find Fault with the Canal which
made navigable for Callies with five Rows of
Oars from
other Accounts, as becau&longs;e the Maintaining of
it &longs;eem'd to require perpetual and eternal
Felicity of the Empire, and a Succe&longs;&longs;ion of
Princes all inclined to the &longs;ame Works. The&longs;e
Con&longs;iderations being granted, we ought to re
flect duly upon all the Particulars before
mention'd, that is to &longs;ay, what Work we un
dertake, the Place we are to build in, and
what the Per&longs;on is that is to build; and to con
trive every Thing according to his Dignity and
Nece&longs;&longs;ities, is the Part of a di&longs;creet and pru
dent Architect.
CHAP. XII.
of the Model, we ought to take the Advice of prudent and under&longs;tanding Men,
and before we begin our Work, it will not only be proper to know how to
rai&longs;e Money for the Expence, but al&longs;o long before hand to provide all the
Materials for compleating &longs;uch an Undertaking.
Having weigh'd and con&longs;ider'd the&longs;e
Things you mu&longs;t proceed to the Ex
amination of the Re&longs;t, whether each of them
be perfectly contrived and conveniently di&longs;
po&longs;ed in its proper Place. And to do this ef
fectually, it is nece&longs;&longs;ary you &longs;hould be full of
this Per&longs;ua&longs;ion, all the while you are medita
ting upon the&longs;e Things, that it will be a Scandal
to you, if as far as in you lies, you &longs;uffer any
other Building with the &longs;ame Expence or Ad
vantages to gain more Prai&longs;e and Approbation
than your own. Nor is it &longs;ufficient in the&longs;e
Ca&longs;es to be only not de&longs;pi&longs;ed, unle&longs;s you are
highly and principally commended, and then
imitated. Therefore we ought to be as &longs;evere
and diligent as po&longs;&longs;ible in our Scrutiny of every
Particular, as well to &longs;uffer nothing but what
is excellent and elegant, as to have all Things
mutually concur to make the whole Hand&longs;ome
and Beautiful, in&longs;omuch that whatever you at
tempted to add, or retrench, or alter, &longs;hould
be for the Wor&longs;e and make a Defect. But
herein, I repeat my Advice, let your Mode
rator be the Prudence and Coun&longs;el of the mo&longs;t
experienced Judges, who&longs;e Approbation is
founded upon Knowledge and Sincerity: Be
cau&longs;e by their Skill and Directions you will be
much more likely, than by your own private
Will and Opinion, to attain to Perfection or
Something very near it. And be&longs;ides, the
Prai&longs;e of good Judges is the highe&longs;t Satisfaction;
and as for others they prai&longs;e you &longs;ufficiently, and
indeed too much in not doing Something bet
ter them&longs;elves. So that you will be &longs;ure of
that under&longs;tand the&longs;e Matters. And you may
find your Advantage in hearkning to every
Body; for &longs;ometimes it happens, that Per&longs;ons
of no Skill make Ob&longs;ervations by no Means to
be de&longs;pi&longs;ed. When therefore you have well
weigh'd, review'd, and examin'd all the Parts
of your Model, and all the Proportions of the
whole Building, &longs;o that there is not the lea&longs;t
Particular any where about it, which you have
not con&longs;ider'd and reflected upon, and that
you are fully re&longs;olved to build in that Man
ner in every Re&longs;pect, and can rai&longs;e the Money
conveniently for bearing the Expence; then
prepare the other Things nece&longs;&longs;ary for the Ex
ecution of your Work, that when you have
begun, nothing may be wanting &longs;o as to pre
vent your fini&longs;hing your Structure expeditiou&longs;ly. For as you will have Occa&longs;ion for a great Num
ber of Things for carrying on the Bu&longs;ine&longs;s, and
as if but one is unprovided, it may &longs;top or &longs;poil
the whole Work, it is your Care to have every
Thing at Hand that may be of U&longs;e to you, if
provided, or a Detriment, if wanting. The
Kings of
they had undertaken to build the Temple of
Gold, Silver, Bra&longs;s, Timber, Stone and the
like Materials, that they might want Nothing
that could be &longs;erviceable in the ea&longs;y and &longs;peedy
Execution of the Work (as
tells us) &longs;ent to the neighbouring Kings for
&longs;everal Thou&longs;ands of Workmen and Architects. Which I highly commend: Becau&longs;e it cer
tainly adds Dignity to the Work, and encrea&longs;es
the Glory of the Author; and Structures that
have been hand&longs;omely contrived and &longs;peedily
fini&longs;h'd be&longs;ides, have been very much celebra
ted by ancient Writers.
lates that
City, and that no very &longs;mall one, near the
the Hi&longs;torian tells us, that
built the Temple of
&longs;ame Space of Time girt the City of
with three Circuits of Walls. That
made a Wall little le&longs;s than five Miles long,
and
Part of a Mile of a prodigious Wall every
Day; and that &longs;he erected another of above
five and twenty Miles in Length, very High
and Thick, to confine the Lake, and in no
more than &longs;even Days. But of the&longs;e in
another Place.
CHAP. VI.
cho&longs;e, and in what Sea&longs;ons, according to the Opinions of the Ancients, to cut
Timber.
The Things to be prepared are the&longs;e,
Lime, Timber, Sand, Stone, as al&longs;o
Iron, Bra&longs;s, Lead, Gla&longs;s and the like. But
the Thing of greate&longs;t Con&longs;equence is to
chu&longs;e skilful Workmen, not light or incon
&longs;tant, whom you may tru&longs;t with the Care
and Management of an Edifice well de&longs;ign'd,
and who will compleat it with all Expedition. And in fixing upon all the&longs;e, it will be of U&longs;e
to you to be &longs;omewhat guided by the Con&longs;idera
tion of other Works already fini&longs;h'd in your
Neighbourhood, and by the Information you
receive from them to determine what to do in
your own Ca&longs;e. For by ob&longs;erving the Faults
and Beauties in them, you will con&longs;ider that
the &longs;ame may happen in yours.
Emperor having form'd a De&longs;ign of dedica
cating a huge Statue of an hundred and twenty
Foot high in Honour of the Sun at
ceeding any Thing that had been done before
in Greatne&longs;s and Magnificence, as
lates, before he gave final Orders for the
Work to
Sculptor in tho&longs;e Days, would fir&longs;t &longs;ee his Ca
pacity for &longs;uch a Work by a
traordinary Weight, which he had made in
the Country of The&longs;e
Things duly con&longs;ider'd, we proceed to the
others. We intend, then, in treating of the
Materials nece&longs;&longs;ary for Building, to repeat
tho&longs;e Things which have been taught us by the
mo&longs;t learned among the Ancients, and particu
larly
Pliny
more from long Ob&longs;ervation than from any
Quickne&longs;s of Genius; &longs;o that they are be&longs;t
gathered from tho&longs;e who have ob&longs;erved them
with the greate&longs;t Diligence. We &longs;hall there
mo&longs;t approved Ancients have left us in many
and various Places, and to the&longs;e, according to
our Cu&longs;tom, we &longs;hall add whatever we our
&longs;elves have deduced from antique Works, or
the In&longs;tructions of mo&longs;t experienced Artificers,
if we happen to know any Thing that may be
&longs;erviceable to our Purpo&longs;e. And I believe it
will be the be&longs;t Method, following Nature
her&longs;elf, to begin with tho&longs;e Things which were
&longs;ir&longs;t in U&longs;e among Men in their Buildings;
which, if we mi&longs;take not, were Timber Trees
which they fell'd in the Woods: Though
among Authors, I find, &longs;ome are divided
upon this very Subject. Some will have it,
that Men at fir&longs;t dwelt in Caves, and that
they and their Cattle were both &longs;heltered
under the &longs;ame Roof; and therefore they
believe what
Texius
ture built him&longs;elf a Hou&longs;e of Mud.
&longs;ays that
the fir&longs;t that invented Hou&longs;es.
Pamphilus,
ty, tells us from the Te&longs;timony of the Ancients,
that the Grand&longs;ons of
Men the Building of Hou&longs;es, which they
patch'd up of Reeds and Bullru&longs;hes: But to
return to our Subject. The Ancients, then,
and particularly
mo&longs;t Trees, and e&longs;pecially the Fir, the Pitch
tree and the Pine, ought to be cut immediately,
when they begin to put forth their young
Shoots, when through their abundance of Sap
you mo&longs;t ea&longs;ily &longs;trip off the Bark. But that
there are &longs;ome Trees, as the Maple, the Elm,
the A&longs;h, and the Linden, which are be&longs;t cut
after Vintage. The Oak if cut in Summer,
they ob&longs;erve is apt to breed Worms; but if in
Winter, it will keep &longs;ound and not &longs;plit. And it is not foreign to our Purpo&longs;e what they
remark, that Wood which is cut in Winter, in
a North Wind, though it be green, will never
thele&longs;s burn extremely well, and in a Manner
without Smoak; which manife&longs;tly &longs;hews that
their Juices are not crude, but well dige&longs;ted.
ginning of Autumn, till &longs;uch Time as the &longs;oft
We&longs;terly Winds begin to blow. And
&longs;ays, that when the Sun darts his burning Rays
directly upon our Heads, and turns Mens Com
plections to brown, then is the Time for Har
ve&longs;t, but that when the Trees drop their
Leaves, then is the Sea&longs;on for cutting of Tim
ber.
Oak, &longs;ays he, be felled during the Sol&longs;tice, be
cau&longs;e in Winter it is always out of Sea&longs;on; other
Woods that bear Seed may be cut when that
is mature; tho&longs;e that bear none, when you
plea&longs;e. Tho&longs;e that have their Seeds green and
ripe at the &longs;ame Time, &longs;hould be cut when
that is fallen, but the Elm when the Leaves
drop. And they &longs;ay it is of very great Im
portance, what Age the Moon is of when you
fell your Timber: For they are all of Opini
on, and e&longs;pecially
the Moon is &longs;o powerful over Things of this
Nature, that even they who cut their Heir in
the Wane of the Moon, &longs;hall &longs;oon grow bald;
and for this Rea&longs;on, they tell us,
&longs;erved certain Days for cutting his Hair. The
A&longs;trologers affirm, that your Spirits will al
ways be oppre&longs;&longs;ed with Melancholly, if you
cut your Nails or Hair while the Moon is op
pre&longs;&longs;ed or ill di&longs;po&longs;ed. It is to our pre&longs;ent
Purpo&longs;e what they &longs;ay, that &longs;uch Things as
are de&longs;igned in their U&longs;es to be moveable,
ought to be cut and wrought when the Moon
is in
fixed and immoveable, when &longs;he is in
Taurus,But that Timber ought
to be cut in the Wane of the Moon, all the
Learned are agreed, becau&longs;e they hold that the
flegmatick Moi&longs;ture, &longs;o very liable to immedi
ate Putrefaction, is then almo&longs;t quite dried up,
and it is certain, that when it is cut in &longs;uch a
Moon, it is never apt to breed Worms. Hence
they &longs;ay you ought to reap the Corn which
you intend to &longs;ell, at full Moon; becau&longs;e then
the Ears are full; but that which you intend
to keep in the Wane. It is al&longs;o evident, that
the Leaves of Trees cropt in the Wane of the
Moon do not rot.
fell Timber from the twentieth to the thirtieth
Day of the Moon's Age;
fifteenth to the two and twentieth; and hence
he &longs;uppo&longs;es the religious Ceremony to ari&longs;e, of
celebrating all My&longs;teries relating to Eternity
only on tho&longs;e Days, becau&longs;e Wood cut then
la&longs;ted in a Manner for ever. They add, that
we &longs;hould likewi&longs;e ob&longs;erve the Setting of the
Moon. But
fell Trees when the Dog-&longs;tar reigns, and when
the Moon is in Conjunction with the Sun,
which Day is called an
it is good to wait for the Night of that Day
too, till the Moon is &longs;et. The A&longs;tronomers
&longs;ay, the Rea&longs;on of this is, becau&longs;e the Action
of the Moon puts the Fluids of all Bodies into
Motion; and that therefore when tho&longs;e Fluids
lowe&longs;t Roots, the Re&longs;t of the Timber is clearer
and &longs;ounder. Moreover they think that the
Tree will be much more &longs;erviceable, if it is not
cut quite down immediately, but chopt round
about, and &longs;o left &longs;tanding upon the Stump to
dry. And they &longs;ay, that if the Fir (which is
not the mo&longs;t unapt to &longs;uffer by Moi&longs;ture) be
barked in the Wane of the Moon, it will never
afterwards be liable to be rotted by Water. There are &longs;ome who affirm that if the Oak,
which is &longs;o heavy a Wood that naturally it
&longs;inks in the Water, be chopt round the Bot
tom in the Beginning of Spring, and cut down
when it has lo&longs;t its Leaves, it will have &longs;uch
an Effect upon it, that it will float for the
Space of ninety Days and not &longs;ink. Others
advi&longs;e to chop the Trees which you leave thus
upon their Stumps, half way through, that the
Corruption and bad Juices may di&longs;til through,
and be carried off. They add, that the Trees,
which are de&longs;igned to be &longs;awed or planed,
&longs;hould not be cut down till they have brought
their Fruits and ripened their Seeds; and that
Trees &longs;o cut, e&longs;pecially Fruit-bearers, &longs;hould
be barked, becau&longs;e while they are covered with
the Bark, Corruption is very apt to gather be
tween the Rind and the Tree.
CHAP. V.
of the Remedies again&longs;t their Infirmities, and of allotting them their proper
Places in the Building.
After the Timber is cut, it mu&longs;t be
laid where the &longs;corching Heat of the
Sun or rude Bla&longs;ts of Winds never come; and
e&longs;pecially, that which falls of it&longs;elf, ought to
be very well protected with Shade. And for
this Rea&longs;on, the ancient Architects u&longs;ed to
plai&longs;ter it over with Ox-Dung; which
phra&longs;tus
all the Pores being &longs;topped up, the &longs;uperfluous
Flegm and Humidity concreting within, di&longs;
tils and vents it&longs;elf by Degrees through the
Heart, by which Means the Dryne&longs;s of the
other Parts of the Wood is conden&longs;ed by its
drying equally throughout. And they are of
Opinion that Trees dry better, if &longs;et with their
Heads downward. Moreover, they pre&longs;cribe
various Remedies again&longs;t their decaying and
other Infirmities.
burying of Timber hardens it extremely.
advi&longs;es to anoint it with Lees of Oil, to pre
&longs;erve it from all Manner of Worms; and we
all know that Pitch is a Defence to it again&longs;t
Water. They &longs;ay that Wood, which has been
&longs;oaked in the Dregs of Oil, will burn without
the Offence of Smoak.
the Labyrinth of
many Beams made of the
rubed over with Oil, and
that Timber dawbed over with Glue will
not burn. Nor will I omit what we read in
tus Claudius,
fect, having thoroughly debawbed a wooden
Tower in the Piræum with Allum, when Se
veral Woods are hardened and &longs;trengthened a
gain&longs;t the A&longs;&longs;aults of Storms in various Man
ners. They bury the Citron-wood under
Ground, plai&longs;tered over with Wax, for &longs;even
Days, and after an Intermi&longs;&longs;ion of as many
more, lay it under Heaps of Corn for the &longs;ame
Space of Time, whereby it becomes not only
&longs;tronger but ea&longs;ier to be wrought, becau&longs;e it
takes away a very con&longs;iderable Part of its
Weight; and they &longs;ay too, that the &longs;ame
Wood thus dryed, being afterwards laid &longs;ome
time in the Sea, acquires a Hardne&longs;s incredibly
&longs;olid and incorruptible. It is certain the Che&longs;
nut Tree is purged by the Sea-water.
writes, the
Water to dry and grow lighter, for at fir&longs;t it
will &longs;ink to the Bottom. We &longs;ee that our
Workmen lay their Timber under Water or
Dung for thirty Days, e&longs;pecially &longs;uch as they
de&longs;ign for turning, by which Means they think
it is better dried and more ea&longs;ily worked for
all Manner of U&longs;es. There are &longs;ome who af
firm, that all Manner of Woods agree in this,
that if you bury them in &longs;ome moi&longs;t Place
while they are green, they will endure for ever;
but whether you pre&longs;erve it in Woods, or bury,
or anoint it, the Experienced are univer&longs;ally of
this Opinion, that you mu&longs;t not meddle with
it under three Months: The Timber mu&longs;t have
rity of Strength before it is applied to U&longs;e. After it is thus prepared,
mu&longs;t not be brought out into the Air but in
the Wane of the Moon, and after Mid-day, and
even in the Wane of the Moon he condemns
the four Days next after the fi&longs;teenth, and pre
cautions us again&longs;t bringing it out in a South
Wind. And when we bring it out, we mu&longs;t
take Care not to draw it through the Dew,
nor to &longs;aw or cut it when it is covered with
Dew or Fro&longs;t, but only when it is perfectly dry
in all Re&longs;pects.
CHAP. VI.
are to be employed, and what Part of the Edifice each Kind is mo&longs;t fit for.
enough for the making of Planks, e&longs;peci
ally for Doors, in le&longs;s than three Years. The
Trees of mo&longs;t U&longs;e for Building were reckoned
to be the&longs;e; the Holm, and all other Sorts of
Oaks, the Beech, the Poplar, the Linden, the
Willow, the Alder, the A&longs;h, the Pine, the Cy
pre&longs;s, the Olive, both Wild and Garden, the
Che&longs;nut, the Larch Tree, the Box, the Cedar,
the Ebony, and even the Vine: But all the&longs;e
are various in their Natures, and therefore mu&longs;t
be applied to various U&longs;es. Some are better
than others to be expo&longs;ed without Doors,
others mu&longs;t be u&longs;ed within; &longs;ome delight in
the open Air, others harden in the Water, and
will endure almo&longs;t for ever under Ground;
&longs;ome are good to make nice Boards, and for
Sculptures, and all Manner of Joyner's Work;
&longs;ome for Beams and Rafters; others are &longs;tronger
for &longs;upporting open Terra&longs;&longs;es, and Coverings;
and the Alder, for Piles to make a Foundation
in a River or mar&longs;hy Ground, exceeds all other
Trees, and bears the Wet incomparably well,
but will not la&longs;t at all in the Air or Sun. On
the contrary, the Beech will not endure the
Wet at all. The Elm, &longs;et in the open Air,
hardens extremely; but el&longs;e it &longs;plits and will
not la&longs;t. The Pitch Tree and Pine, if buried
under Ground, are wonderfully durable. But
the Oak, being hard, clo&longs;e, and nervous, and
of the &longs;malle&longs;t Pores, not admitting any Moi&longs;
ture, is the propere&longs;t of any for all Manner of
Works under Ground, capable of &longs;upporting
the greate&longs;t Weights, and is the &longs;tronge&longs;t of
Columns. But though Nature has endued it
with &longs;o much Hardne&longs;s that it cannot be bored
unle&longs;s it be &longs;oaked, yet above Ground it is
reckoned incon&longs;tant, and to warp and grow
unmanageable, and in the Sea-water quickly
rots; which does not happen to the Olive, nor
Holm Oak, nor Wild Olive, though in other
Things they agree with the Oak. The Ma&longs;t
Holm never con&longs;umes with Age, becau&longs;e it's
In&longs;ide is juicy, and as it were always green. The Beech likewi&longs;e and the Che&longs;nut do not
rot in the Water, and are reckoned among the
principal Trees for Works under Ground. The
Cork Tree al&longs;o, and the wild Pine, the Mul
berry, the Maple, and the Elm are not ami&longs;s
for Columns.
becau&longs;e before it breaks it gives Notice by a
Crack, which formerly &longs;aved the Lives of a
great many People, who, upon the falling of
the publick Baths at
Warning had Time to make their E&longs;cape. But
the Fir is much the Be&longs;t for that U&longs;e; for as it
is one of the Bigge&longs;t and Thicke&longs;t of Trees, &longs;o
it is endued with a natural Stiffne&longs;s, that will
not ea&longs;ily give way to the Weight that is laid
upon it, but &longs;tands firm and never yields. Add
be&longs;ides, that it is ea&longs;y to work, and does not
lie too heavy upon the Wall. In &longs;hort, many
Perfections, and U&longs;es, and great Prai&longs;es are a&longs;
cribed to this &longs;ingle Wood; neverthele&longs;s we
cannot di&longs;own that it has one Fault, which is,
that it is too apt to catch Fire. Not inferior
to this for Roofs, is the Cypre&longs;s, a Tree, in
many other Re&longs;pects &longs;o u&longs;eful, that it claims a
principal Rank among the mo&longs;t excellent. The
Ancients reckoned it as one of the Be&longs;t, and
not inferior to Cedar or Ebony. In
Cypre&longs;s is valued almo&longs;t equal with the Spice
Trees, and with good Rea&longs;on; for whatever
Prai&longs;es may be be&longs;towed upon the Ammony or
Cirenaic Field Pine, which
everla&longs;ting, yet if you con&longs;ult either Smell,
Beauty, Strength, Bigne&longs;s, Straitne&longs;s, or Du
ration, or all the&longs;e together, what Tree can you
put in Competition with the Cypre&longs;s? It is
by Worms or Age, and never &longs;plits of its own
accord. For this Rea&longs;on
that the publick Laws and Statutes &longs;hould be
carved in &longs;acred Tables of Cypre&longs;s, believing
they would be more la&longs;ting than Tables of
Bra&longs;s. This Topick naturally leads me to give
an Account of what I my&longs;elf remember to
have read and ob&longs;erv'd of this Wood. It is re
lated that the Gates of the Temple of
at
dred Years, and pre&longs;erved their Beauty in &longs;uch
a Manner that they always &longs;eemed to be new. In the Church of St.
repairing of the Gates by Pope
found, that where they had not been injured
by the Violence of the Enemy in &longs;tripping a
way the Silver with which they were formerly
covered, they had continued whole and &longs;ound
above five hundred and fifty Years; for if we
examing the Annals of the
long it is from the Time of
who &longs;et them up, to There
fore, though the Fir is very much commended
for making Rafters, yet the Cypre&longs;s is prefer
red before it, perhaps only upon this one Ac
count, namely, that it is more la&longs;ting; but
then it is heavier than the Fir. The Pine and
Pitch Trees al&longs;o are valued, for the Pine is
&longs;uppo&longs;ed to have the &longs;ame Quality as the Fir,
of ri&longs;ing again&longs;t the Weight that is laid upon
it: But between the Fir and the Pine there is
this Difference, among others, that the Firs is
le&longs;s injured by Worms, becau&longs;e the Pine is of a
&longs;weeter Juice than the Fir. I do not know
any Wood that is to be preferred to the Larch,
or Turpentine Tree, which, within my Ob&longs;er
vation, has &longs;upported Buildings perfectly &longs;trong,
and to a very great Age, in many Places, and
particularly in tho&longs;e very ancient Structures in
the Market-place at
Tree is reckoned to be furni&longs;hed with the Con
veniences of all the Re&longs;t; it is nervous, tena
cious of its Strength, unmoveable in Storms,
not mole&longs;ted with Worms; and it is an anci
ent Opinion, that again&longs;t the Injuries of Fire
it remains invincible, and in a Manner unhurt,
in&longs;omuch that they advi&longs;e us, on whatever Side
we are apprehen&longs;ive of Fire, to place Beams of
Larch by Way of Security. It is true I have
&longs;een it take Fire and burn, but yet in &longs;uch a
Manner that it &longs;eemed to di&longs;dain the Flames,
and to threaten to drive them away. It has
indeed one Defect, which is, that in Sea-wa
ter it is very apt to breed Worms. For Beams
the Oak and Olive are accounted improper,
becau&longs;e of their Heavine&longs;s, and that they give
Way beneath the Weight that is laid upon
them, and are apt to warp even of them&longs;elves;
be&longs;ides, all Trees that are more inclinable to
break into Shivers than to &longs;plit, are unfit for
Beams; &longs;uch are the Olive, the Fig, the Lin
den, the Sallow, and the like. It is a &longs;urpriz
ing Property which they relate of the Palm
Tree, that it ri&longs;es again&longs;t the Weight that is
laid upon it, and bends upwards in &longs;pite of all
Re&longs;i&longs;tance. For Beams and Coverings ex
po&longs;ed to the open Air, the Juniper is greatly
commended; and
Properties as the Cedar, but is &longs;ounder. The
Olive too is reckoned extreamly durable, and
the Box is e&longs;teemed as one of the Be&longs;t of all. Nor is the Che&longs;nut, though apt to cleave and
&longs;plit, rejected for Works to the open Air. But
the wild Olive they particularly e&longs;teem &longs;or the
&longs;ame Rea&longs;on as the Cypre&longs;s, becau&longs;e it never
breeds Worms, which is the Advantage of all
Trees that have oily and gummy Juices, e&longs;pe
cially if tho&longs;e Juices are bitter. The Worm
never enters into &longs;uch Trees, and it is certain
they exclude all Moi&longs;ture from without. Con
trary to the&longs;e are &longs;uppo&longs;ed to be all Woods
that have Juices of a &longs;weet Ta&longs;te, and which
ea&longs;ily take Fire; out of which, neverthele&longs;s,
they except the &longs;weet as well as the wild Olive.
are very weak in their Nature again&longs;t Storms,
and do not endure to a great Age.
that the Ma&longs;t-holm &longs;oon rots. But the Fir,
and particularly that which grows in the
for U&longs;es within Doors, as for Bed&longs;teads, Ta
bles, Doors, Benches, and the like, is excel
lent; becau&longs;e it is, in its Nature, very dry, and
very tenacious of the Glue. The Pitch-Tree
and Cypre&longs;s al&longs;o are very good for &longs;uch U&longs;es;
the Beech for other Service is too brittle, but
does mighty well for Coffers and Beds, and
will &longs;aw into extreme thin Planks, as will like
wi&longs;e the Scarlet-Oak. The Che&longs;nut, on the
Contrary, the Elm, and the A&longs;h are reckoned
very unfit for Planks, becau&longs;e they ea&longs;ily &longs;plit,
and though they &longs;plit &longs;lowly, they are very in
clinable to it; though el&longs;e the A&longs;h is account
ed very obedient in all Manner of Works. But
I am &longs;urprized the Ancients have not celebra
ted the Nut Tree; which, as Experience &longs;hews
us, is extremely tractable, and good for mo&longs;t
U&longs;es, and e&longs;pecially for Boards or Planks,
They commend the Mulberry-Tree, both for
its Durablene&longs;s, and becau&longs;e by Length of
tells us, that the Rich u&longs;ed to make their
Doors of the Lote-Tree, the Scarlet-Oak, and
of Box. The Elm, becau&longs;e it firmly main
tains its Strength, is &longs;aid to be very proper for
Jambs of Doors, but it &longs;hould be &longs;et with its
Head downwards.
ought to be made of Holly, Laurel, and Elm:
For Bars and Bolts, they recommend the Cor
nel-Tree; for Stairs, the wild A&longs;h or the
Maple. They hollowed the Pine, the Pitch
Tree and the Elm for Aqueducts, but they &longs;ay
unle&longs;s they are buried under Ground they pre
&longs;ently decay. La&longs;tly, the Female Larch-Tree,
which is almo&longs;t of the Colour of Honey, for
the Ornaments of Edifices and for Tables for
Painting, they found to be in a Manner eternal
and never crack or &longs;plit; and be&longs;ides, as its
Veins run &longs;hort, not long, they u&longs;ed it for the
Images of their Gods, as they did al&longs;o the
Lote, the Box, the Cedar, and the Cypre&longs;s
too, and the large Roots of the Olive, and the
the Lote-Tree.
IF they had Occa&longs;ion to turn any Thing
long and round, they u&longs;ed the Beech, the
Mulberry, the Tree that yields the Turpentine,
but e&longs;pecially the mo&longs;t clo&longs;e bodied Box, mo&longs;t
excellent for Turning; and for very curious
Works, the Ebony. Neither for Statues or
Pictures did they de&longs;pi&longs;e the Poplar, both
white and black, the Sallow, the Hornbeam,
the Service-Tree, the Elder, and the Fig;
which Woods, by their Dryne&longs;s and Evenne&longs;s,
are not only good for receiving and pre&longs;erving
the Gums and Colours of the Painter, but are
wonderfully &longs;oft and ea&longs;y under the Carver's
Tool for expre&longs;&longs;ing all Manner of Forms. Though it is certain that none of the&longs;e for
Tractablene&longs;s can compare with the Linden. Some there are that for Statues chu&longs;e the Jubol
Tree. Contrary to the&longs;e is the Oak, which
will never join either with it&longs;elf or any other
Wood of the &longs;ame Nature, and de&longs;pi&longs;es all
Manner of Glue: The &longs;ame Defect is &longs;uppos'd
to be in all Trees that are grained, and in
clin'd to di&longs;til. Wood that is ea&longs;ily plain'd,
and has a clo&longs;e Body, is never well to be
fa&longs;ten'd with Glue; and tho&longs;e al&longs;o that are of
different Natures, as the Ivy, the Laurel and
the Linden, which are hot, if glued to tho&longs;e
that grow in moi&longs;t Places, which are all in
their Natures cold, never hold long together. The Elm, the A&longs;h, the Mulberry, and the
Cherry-Tree, being dry, do not agree with the
Plane Tree or the Alder, which are Moi&longs;t. Nay, the Ancients were &longs;o far from joining
together Woods different in their Natures, that
they would not &longs;o much as place them near
one another. And for this Rea&longs;on
advi&longs;es us again&longs;t joining Planks of Beech and
Oak together.
CHAP. VII.
But to &longs;peak of all the&longs;e more &longs;um
marily. All Authors are agreed that
Trees which do not bear Fruit are &longs;tronger and
&longs;ounder than tho&longs;e which do; and that the
wild ones, which are not cultivated either with
Hand or Steel, are harder than the Dome&longs;tick.
into any Infirmities that kill them, whereas the
Dome&longs;tick and Fruit-bearers are &longs;ubject to
very con&longs;iderable Infirmities; and among the
Fruit-bearers tho&longs;e which bear early are
weaker than tho&longs;e which bear late, and the
Sweet than the Tart; and among the tart ones,
&longs;uch are accounted the Firme&longs;t, that have the
Sharpe&longs;t and the lea&longs;t Fruit. Tho&longs;e that bear Fruit
only once in two Years, and tho&longs;e which are
entirely barren, have more Knots in them than
tho&longs;e which bear every Year; the Shorte&longs;t
likewi&longs;e are the Harde&longs;t, and the Barren grow
fa&longs;ter than the Fruitful. They &longs;ay likewi&longs;e
that &longs;uch Trees as grow in an open Place, un
&longs;helter'd either by Woods or Hills, but &longs;haken
by frequent Storms and Winds, are &longs;tronger
and thicker, but at the &longs;ame Time &longs;horter and
more knotty than &longs;uch as grow down in a Val
ley, or in any other Place defended from the
Winds. They al&longs;o believe that Trees which
grow in moi&longs;t &longs;hady Places are more tender
than tho&longs;e which grow in a dry open Situation,
and that tho&longs;e which &longs;tand expo&longs;ed to the
North are more &longs;erviceable than tho&longs;e which
grow to the South. They reject, as abortive
all Trees that grow in Places not agreeable to
their Natures, and though &longs;uch as &longs;tand to the
in their Sap, &longs;o that they are not &longs;trait and
even enough for Service, Moreover, tho&longs;e
which are in their Natures dry and &longs;low growers,
are &longs;tronger than tho&longs;e which are moi&longs;t and
fruitful; wherefore
one were Male and the other Female, and that
white Timber was le&longs;s clo&longs;e and more tractable
than that which has any other Colour in it. It is certain that heavy Wood is harder and
clo&longs;er than light; and the Lighter it is, the
more Brittle; and the more Knotty the &longs;tronger. Trees likewi&longs;e which Nature has endu'd with
the longe&longs;t Life, &longs;he has always endu'd with
the Property of keeping longe&longs;t from Decay
when cut down, and the le&longs;s Sap they have, &longs;o
much they are the Stronger and more Hardy. The Parts neare&longs;t to the Sap are indeed
harder and clo&longs;er than the re&longs;t; but tho&longs;e next
the Bark have more binding Nerves, for it is
&longs;uppos'd, in Trees ju&longs;t as in Animals, the Bark
is the Skin, the Parts next under the Bark are
the Fle&longs;h, and that which enclo&longs;es the Sap, the
Bone; and
were in the Nature of Nerves. Of all the Parts
of the Tree, the wor&longs;t is the Alburnum, or
Juice, that nouri&longs;hes it, both becau&longs;e it is very
apt to breed Worms, and upon &longs;everal other
Accounts. To the&longs;e Ob&longs;ervations we may
add, that the Part of the Tree which, while
it was &longs;tanding, was towards the South, will
be dryer than the re&longs;t, and thinner, and more
extenuated, but it will be firmer and clo&longs;er;
and the Sap will be nearer to the Bark on that
Side than on the other. Tho&longs;e Parts al&longs;o
which are neare&longs;t to the Ground and to the
Roots, will be heavier than any of the re&longs;t; a
Proof whereof is that they will hardly float
upon the Water; and the Middle of all Trees
is the mo&longs;t knotty. The Veins too, the nea
rer they are to the Roots, the more they are
wreath'd and contorted; neverthele&longs;s the
lower Parts are reckoned always &longs;tronger and
more u&longs;eful than the Upper. But I find in
good Authors &longs;ome very remarkable Things
of &longs;ome Trees; they &longs;ay that the Vine exceeds
even the Eternity of Time it&longs;elf. In
near
made of that Wood to be &longs;een in
which had la&longs;ted for a va&longs;t Number of Years
without the lea&longs;t Decay; and indeed it is uni
ver&longs;ally allow'd that there is no Wood what
&longs;oever more durable. In
of
informs us, that two Men can hardly embrace
its Trunk. They tell us of a Roof of Cedar
in
&longs;eventy eight Years. In a Temple of
in
la&longs;ted from two Hundred Years before the
Siege of
The Cedar too is of a mo&longs;t wonderful Nature,
if as they &longs;ay it is the only Wood that will
not retain the Nails. In the Mountains near
the Lake
grows a Kind of Fir, which, if you make
Ve&longs;&longs;els of it, will not hold the Wine, unle&longs;s
you fir&longs;t anoint them with Oil. Thus much
for Trees.
CHAP. VIII.
&longs;ofte&longs;t and which the harde&longs;t, and which be&longs;t and mo&longs;t durable.
We mu&longs;t likewi&longs;e make Provi&longs;ion of the
Stone which is to be u&longs;ed in our
Walls, and this is of two Sorts; the one proper
only &longs;or making the Lime and the Cement,
the other for erecting the Building. Of
this latter we &longs;hall treat fir&longs;t, omitting many
Particulars, both for the Sake of Brevity, and
becau&longs;e they are already &longs;ufficiently known. Neither &longs;hall we &longs;pend any Time here in phi
lo&longs;ophical Enquiries about the Principle and
Origin of Stones; as, whether their fir&longs;t Par
ticles, made vi&longs;cous by a Mixture of Earth and
Water, harden fir&longs;t into Slime, and afterwards
into Stone; or what is &longs;aid of Gems, that
they are collected and concreted by the Heat
and Power of the Rays of the Sun, or rather
that there is in the Bo&longs;om of the Earth certain
natural Seeds as of other Things, &longs;o al&longs;o of
Stones: And whether their Colour is owing
to a certain proper blending of the Particles of
Water with very minute ones of Earth; or to
&longs;ome innate Quality of its own Seed, or to an
Impre&longs;&longs;ion receiv'd from the Sun's Rays. And
though the&longs;e Di&longs;qui&longs;itions might perhaps help
proceed to treat of the Method of Building as
addre&longs;&longs;ing my&longs;elf to Artificers approv'd for
Skill and Experience, with more Freedom
than perhaps would be allow'd by tho&longs;e who
are &longs;or more exact philo&longs;ophi&longs;ing.
to dig the Stone in Summer, to let it lie in the
open Air, and not to u&longs;e it under two Years:
In Summer, to the Intent that it may grow
accu&longs;tom'd by Degrees to Wind, Rain, and
Fro&longs;t, and other Inclemencies of the Weather,
which it had not felt before. For if Stone,
immediately upon its being dug out of the
Quarry, while it is full of its native Juice and
Humidity, is expos'd to &longs;evere Winds and
&longs;udden Fro&longs;ts, it will &longs;plit and break to Pieces. It &longs;hould be kept in the open Air, in order to
prove the Goodne&longs;s of each particular Stone,
and how well it is able to re&longs;i&longs;t the Accidents
that injure it, making Experiment by this &longs;mall
Trial, how long they are likely to hold again&longs;t
the A&longs;&longs;aults of Time. They &longs;hould not be
u&longs;ed under two Years, to the Intent that you
may have Time to find out &longs;uch among them
as are weak in their Nature, and likely to dam
age the Work, and to &longs;eperate them from the
good ones; for it is certain, in one and the
&longs;ame Kind of Stones there is a Difference in
Goodne&longs;s of any Sort of Stone, and its Fit
ne&longs;s for this or that particular Situation, is be&longs;t
learnt from U&longs;e and Experience; and you
may much &longs;ooner come at their Values and
Properties from old Buildings, than from the
Writings and Precepts of Philo&longs;phers. How
ever, to &longs;ay &longs;omething briefly of Stones in ge
neral, we will beg Leave to offer the follow
ing Ob&longs;ervations.
ALL white Stone is &longs;ofter than red, the clear
is more ea&longs;ily wrought than the Cloudy, and
the more like Salt it looks, the harder it is to
work. Stone that looks as if it were &longs;trew'd
over with a bright &longs;hining Sand, is har&longs;h; if
little Sparks, as it were, of Gold are intermix'd,
it will be &longs;tubborn; if it has a Kind of little
black Points in it, it will be hard to get out
of the Quarry: That which is &longs;potted with
angular Drops is &longs;tronger than that which has
round ones, and the &longs;maller tho&longs;e Drops are,
the harder it will be; and the finer and clearer
the Colour is, the longer it will la&longs;t. The
Stone that has fewe&longs;t Veins, will be mo&longs;t
entire, and when the Veins come neare&longs;t in
Colour to the adjoining Parts of the Stone, it
will prove mo&longs;t equal throughout: The &longs;maller
the Veins, the hand&longs;omer; the more winding
they run, the more untoward; and the more
knotty, the wor&longs;e, Of the&longs;e Veins that is
mo&longs;t apt to &longs;plit which has in the Middle a
reddi&longs;h Streak, or of the Colour of rotten
Oker. Much of the &longs;ame Nature is that which
is &longs;tain'd here and there with the Colour of
faded Gra&longs;s, but the mo&longs;t difficult of all is
&longs;uch as looks like a cloudy Piece of Ice. A
Multitude of Veins &longs;hews the Stone to be de
ceitful and apt to crack; and the &longs;traiter they
are, the more un&longs;aithful. Upon breaking a
Stone, the more fine and poli&longs;h'd the Frag
ments appear, the clo&longs;er bodied it is; and that
which when broken has its Out&longs;ide the lea&longs;t
rugged, will be more manageable than tho&longs;e
which are rough. Of the Rough ones, tho&longs;e
which are white&longs;t will be wor&longs;t for working;
whereas, on the Contrary, in brown Stones,
tho&longs;e of the &longs;malle&longs;t and fine&longs;t Grain are lea&longs;t
obedient to the Tool. All mean ordinary
Stones are the Harder for being &longs;pungy, and
that which being &longs;prinkled with Water is long
e&longs;t in drying, is the mo&longs;t crude.
ALL heavy Stones are more &longs;olid and ea&longs;ier
to poli&longs;h than light ones, which upon rubbing
is much more apt to come off in Flakes than
&longs;uch as are heavy. That which upon being
&longs;truck gives the be&longs;t Sound, is clo&longs;er made than
that which &longs;ounds dull; and that which upon
&longs;trong Friction &longs;mells of Sulphur, is &longs;tronger
than that which yields no Smell at all. La&longs;t
ly, that which makes the mo&longs;t Re&longs;i&longs;tance again&longs;t
the Chizzel will be mo&longs;t firm and rigid again&longs;t
the Violence of Storms. They &longs;ay, that tho&longs;e
Stones which hold together in the large&longs;t Scant
lings at the Mouth of the Quarry, are firme&longs;t
again&longs;t the Weather. All Stone too is &longs;ofter
when it is ju&longs;t dug up, than after it has been
&longs;ome Time in the Air, and when it is wetted,
or &longs;o&longs;tened with Water, is more yielding to the
Tool than when it is dry. Al&longs;o &longs;uch Stones as
are dug out of the moi&longs;te&longs;t Part of the Quarry,
will be the clo&longs;e&longs;t when they come to be dry;
and it is thought that Stones are ea&longs;ier wrought
in a South-wind than in a North, and are more
apt to &longs;plit in a North-wind than in a South. But if you have a Mind to make an Experi
ment how your Stone will hold out again&longs;t
Time, you may judge from hence: If a Piece
of it, which you &longs;oak in Water, increa&longs;es much
of its Weight, it will be apt to be rotted by
Moi&longs;ture; and that which flies to Pieces in
Fire, will bear neither Sun nor Heat. Neither
do I think that we ought to omit here &longs;ome
Things worthy Memorial, which the Ancients
relate of &longs;ome Stones.
CHAP. IX.
It will not be foreign to our Purpo&longs;e to hear
what a Variety there is in Stones, and
what admirable Qualities &longs;ome are endued
with, that we may be able to apply each to its
propere&longs;t U&longs;e. In the Territory of
proper for all Manner of Buildings, which nei
ther Fire nor any Injuries of Weather ever af
fects, and which pre&longs;erves the Lineaments of
Statues beyond any other.
when
Ruins by the Flames, he made u&longs;e of the
banian
the Fire never hurts that Stone.
IN the Territory of the
nice,
of
white Stone, which is ea&longs;ily cut with a Saw
and poli&longs;h'd, which if it were not for the
Weakne&longs;s and Brittlene&longs;s of its Nature, would
be u&longs;ed by every body; but any thing of
Fro&longs;t or Wet rots and breaks it, and it is not
&longs;trong enough to re&longs;i&longs;t the Winds from the
Sea.
but if touch'd either by Flame or Vapour, it
immediately flies in Pieces, which indeed is
&longs;aid to be the Ca&longs;e of all Stones, e&longs;pecially of
Flint both white and black, that they cannot
endure Fire.
IN the
Colour of black A&longs;hes, in which there &longs;eems
to be Coals mix'd and inter&longs;pers'd, which is
beyond Imagination ea&longs;y to be wrought with
Iron, thoroughly &longs;ound, and not weak again&longs;t
Fire or Weather; but it is &longs;o dry and thir&longs;ty,
that it pre&longs;ently drinks and burns up the Moi
&longs;ture of the Cement, and reduces it perfectly
into Powder, &longs;o that the Junctures opening,
the Work pre&longs;ently decays and falls to Ruins. But round Stones, and e&longs;pecially tho&longs;e which
are found in Rivers, are of a Nature directly
contrary; for being always moi&longs;t, they never
bind with the Cement. But what a &longs;urprizing
Di&longs;covery is this which has been made, name
ly, that the Marble in the Quarry grows! in
the&longs;e our Days they have found at
Ground a Number of &longs;mall Pieces of
tine
the Nouri&longs;hment (if we may &longs;o call it) given
it by the Earth and by Time, are grown to
gether into one Piece.
IN the Lake
where the Water tumbles down a broken Pre
cipice into the River
that the upper Edge of the Bank has grown
continually, in&longs;omuch that &longs;ome have believ'd
that this Encrea&longs;e and Growth of the Stone
has in Length of Time clo&longs;ed up the Mouth
of the Valley and turn'd it into a Lake.
BELOW
from &longs;ome high Rocks towards the Ea&longs;t, there
are daily &longs;een to grow huge Pieces of hanging
Stone, of &longs;uch a Magnitude, that any one of
them would be a Load for &longs;everal Carts. This
Stone while it is fre&longs;h and moi&longs;t with its natu
ral Juices, is very &longs;oft; but when it is dry, it
grows extremely hard, and very good for all
Manner of U&longs;es. I have known the like hap
pen in ancient Aqueducts, who&longs;e Mouths,
having contracted a Kind of Gummine&longs;s, have
&longs;eem'd incru&longs;ted all over with Stone. There
are two very remarkable Things to be &longs;een at
this Day in
throws out, &longs;ometimes in one Place and &longs;ome
times in another, a great Number of round
Stones, generated within the Bowels of the
Earth: In the Territory of
Banks of the River
great many Stones, naturally long and large,
which continually throw out a con&longs;iderable
Quantity of Salt, which in Proce&longs;s of Time is
thought to grow into Stone too. In that of
of Ground all &longs;trew'd over with hard Stones,
which every &longs;even Years di&longs;&longs;olve into Clods of
Earth.
In
Stone, if mix'd with Sea-water. All the Way
upon the Shore from
thing that is wa&longs;h'd by the Sea is petrified.
out of the Ground have a &longs;weet Smell, and
and he adds, that this Stone is of &longs;uch a Na
ture, that when the Rain falls upon it in any
Building, the Cement all di&longs;&longs;olves, and the
Wall grows to be all of a Piece.
WE are told, that they find in
Stone very apt to cleave, call'd the
gus,
tirely con&longs;um'd in le&longs;s than forty Days, all
but the Teeth; and which is mo&longs;t &longs;urprizing,
all the Habits, and every Thing buryed with
the Body, turns into Stone. Of a contrary
Nature to this is the Stone called
in which
the Body entire for a long Time. But of this
Subject enough.
CHAP. X.
aud in what Shapes, their different Sorts, and the U&longs;efulne&longs;s of triangular
Ones; and briefly, of all other Works made of baked Earth.
It is certain the Ancients were very fond of
u&longs;ing Bricks in&longs;tead of Stone. I confe&longs;s,
I believe that at fir&longs;t Men were put upon mak
ing Bricks to &longs;upply the Place of Stone in
their Buildings, thro' Scarcity and Want of it;
but afterwards finding how ready they were
in working, how well adapted both to U&longs;e
and Beauty, how &longs;trong and durable, they pro
ceeded to make not only their ordinary Struc
tures, but even their Palaces of Brick. At
la&longs;t, either by Accident or Indu&longs;try, di&longs;cover
ing what U&longs;e Fire was of in hardening and
&longs;trengthening them, they began in mo&longs;t Places
to bake the Bricks they built with. And &longs;rom
my own Ob&longs;ervations upon the ancient Struc
tures, I will be bold to &longs;ay, that there is not a
better Material for any Sort of Edifice than
Brick, not crude but baked; provided a right
Method be u&longs;ed in baking them. But we will
re&longs;erve the Prai&longs;es of Works make of Bricks
for another Place.
OUR Bu&longs;ine&longs;s is to ob&longs;erve here, that a
whiti&longs;h chalky Earth is very much recom
mended for making them. The reddi&longs;h al&longs;o
is approved of, and that which is call'd male
Sand. That which is ab&longs;olutely &longs;andy and
gravelly is to be avoided, and the &longs;tony mo&longs;t
of all; becau&longs;e in baking it is &longs;ubject to warp
and crack, and if over baked will fret away of
it&longs;elf. We are advi&longs;ed not to make our Bricks
of Earth fre&longs;h dug, but to dig it in the Au
tumn, and leave it to dige&longs;t all Winter, and to
make it into Brick early in the Spring; for if
you make it in Winter, it is obvious that the
Fro&longs;t will crack it, and if you make it in the
Middle of Summer, the exce&longs;&longs;ive Heat will
make it &longs;cale off in drying. But if Nece&longs;&longs;ity
obliges you to make it in Winter, in extreme
cold Weather, cover it immediately over with
very dry Sand, and if in Summer, with wet
Straw; for being &longs;o kept, it will neither crack
nor warp. Some are for having their Bricks
glazed; if &longs;o, you mu&longs;t take Care not to make
them of Earth that is either &longs;andy, or too lean
or dry; &longs;or the&longs;e will &longs;uck and eat away the
Glazing: But you mu&longs;t make them of a whiti&longs;h
fat Clay, and you mu&longs;t make them thin, for
if they are too thick they will not bake tho
rowly, and it is a great Chance but they &longs;plit;
if you are oblig'd to have them thick, you may
in a great Mea&longs;ure prevent that Inconveniency,
if you make one or more little Holes in them
about half Way through, whereby the Damp
and Vapour having proper Vents, they will
both dry and bake the better.
THE Petters rub their Ve&longs;&longs;els over with
Chalk, by which Means, the Glazing, when
it is melted over it, makes an even Surface;
the &longs;ame Method may be u&longs;ed in making
Bricks. I have ob&longs;erv'd in the Works of the
Ancients, that their Bricks have a Mixture of a
certain Proportion of Sand, and e&longs;pecially of
the red Sort, and I find they al&longs;o mix'd them
with red Earth, and even with Marble. I know
by Experience that the very &longs;ame Earth will
make harder and &longs;tronger Brick, if we take the
Pains to knead every Lump two or three Times
over, as if we were making of Bread, till it
grows like Wax, and is per&longs;ectly clear of the
lea&longs;t Particle of Stone. The&longs;e, when they have
pa&longs;s'd the Fire will attain the Hardne&longs;s even
of a Flint, and whether owing to the Heat in
baking, or the Air in drying, will get a Sort
of a &longs;trong Cru&longs;t, as Bread does. It will there
fore be be&longs;t to make them thin, that they
may have the more Cru&longs;t and the le&longs;s Crum:
PLATE 3.
and poli&longs;hed, they will defy the Fury of the
Weather. The &longs;ame is true of Stones that are
poli&longs;hed, which thereby e&longs;cape being eaten
with Ru&longs;t. And it is thought that Bricks
&longs;hould be rubbed and ground either immedi
ately upon their being taken out of the Kiln,
before they are wetted; or when they have
been wetted, before they are dry again; be
cau&longs;e when once they have been wetted and
afterwards dryed, they grow &longs;o hard that they
will turn and break the Edge of the Tool;
but they are ea&longs;ier to grind when they are new,
and hardly cold. There were three Sorts of
Bricks among the Ancients; the Fir&longs;t was a
Foot and an Half Long, and a Foot Bread, the
Second fifteen Inches every Way, the Third a
Foot. We &longs;ee in &longs;ome of their Buildings, and
e&longs;pecially in their Arches and
Bricks two Foot every Way. We are told that
the Ancients did not u&longs;e the &longs;ame Sort of Brick
in their publick as in their private Edifices. I
have ob&longs;erved in &longs;everal of their Structures, and
particularly in the
ferent Sorts of Bricks, &longs;ome bigger, &longs;ome &longs;mall
er; &longs;o that I &longs;uppo&longs;e they u&longs;ed them indiffe
rently, and put in Practice not only what was
ab&longs;olutely nece&longs;&longs;ary for U&longs;e, but any Thing
that came into their Fancy, or which they
thought would conduce to the Beauty of the
Work. But, not to mention others, I have
&longs;een &longs;ome not longer than &longs;ix Inches, and not
thicker than one, nor broader than three; but
the&longs;e they chiefly u&longs;ed in their Pavements,
where they were laid edgeways. I am be&longs;t
plea&longs;ed with their triangular ones, which they
made in this Manner; they made one large
Brick, a Foot Square, and an Inch and an
Half Thick; and while it was fre&longs;h they cut
it in two Lines cro&longs;&longs;ways from one Angle to
the other, which divided it into four equal
Triangles. The&longs;e Bricks had the follow
ing Advantages, they took up le&longs;s Clay, they
were ea&longs;ier to di&longs;po&longs;e in the Kiln and to take
out again, they were more convenient for
working, becau&longs;e the Bricklayer could hold
four of them in one Hand, and with a &longs;mail
Stroke divide the one &longs;rom the other; when
placed in the Wall, with their Fronts &longs;oremo&longs;t
and their Angles inward, they appeared like
compleat Bricks of a Foot Long: This made
the Expence le&longs;s, the Work more graceful, and
the Wall &longs;tronger; for as there &longs;eemed to be
none but entire Bricks in the Wall, the Angles
being &longs;et like Teeth in the Rubbi&longs;h that was
laid in the Middle, made it extremely &longs;trong
and durable. After the Bricks are moulded,
they direct that they &longs;hould not be put into the
Kiln till they are perfectly dry, and they &longs;ay
they never are &longs;o under two Years; and they
are reckoned to dry better in the Shade than in
the Sun: But of the&longs;e too enough, unle&longs;s we
will add that in all this Sort of Works, which
are called Pla&longs;tick, they reckon excellent,
among others, the Earth that is called
the
the
Nor will I con&longs;ult Brevity &longs;o much as to omit,
that whatever I have here &longs;aid of Bricks, will
hold good of all Sorts of Tiles for Roofs of
Hou&longs;es or Gutters, and in a Word, of all Man
ner of Works made of baked Earth. We have
treated of Stone, let us now proceed to &longs;peak
of Lime.
CHAP. XI.
they agree and wherein they differ, and of &longs;ome Things not unworthy of
Memory.
of different Sorts of Stone, and takes that
which is made of Flint to be good for no Man
ner of Work what&longs;oever; be&longs;ides, in making
of Lime all Stone is extremely improper that
is dry and exhau&longs;ted, or rotten, and which in
burning has nothing in it for the Fire to con
&longs;ume, as all mouldering Stone, and the reddi&longs;h
and pale ones, which are found near
the Country of the
The Lime commended by the be&longs;t Judges, is
that which lo&longs;es a third Part of its Weight by
burning; be&longs;ides, Stone that is too moi&longs;t in its
Nature, is apt to vitrify in the Fire, &longs;o as to be
of no U&longs;e for making of Lime.
that the green, or
re&longs;i&longs;ts the Fire; but we know very well that
the
in the Kiln, from burning too. They al&longs;o
di&longs;like all carthy Stone, becau&longs;e it makes the
Lime &longs;oul. But the ancient Architects greatly
prai&longs;e the Lime made of very hard clo&longs;e Stone,
e&longs;pecially white, which they &longs;ay is not im
proper for any Sort of Work, and is extremely
&longs;trong in Arches. In the &longs;econd Place, they
commend Lime made of Stone, not indeed
light or rotten, but &longs;pungy; which they think
for plai&longs;tering is better, and more tractable
than any other, and gives the be&longs;t Varni&longs;h to
the Work; and I have ob&longs;erved the Architects
in
what was made of the common Stones they
found in Rivers or Torrents, blacki&longs;h, and &longs;o
very hard, that you would take them for
Flints; and yet it is certain, both in Stone
and Brickwork, it has pre&longs;erved an extraordi
nary Strength to a very great Age. We read
in
which they make Mill-&longs;tones, is excellent for
all manner of U&longs;es; but I find upon Experi
ence, that &longs;uch of them as &longs;eem &longs;potted with
Drops of Salt, being too rough and dry, will
not do for this U&longs;e; but that which is not &longs;o
&longs;potted, but is clo&longs;er, and when it is ground,
makes a finer Du&longs;t, &longs;ucceeds extremely well. However, let the Nature of the Stone be what
it will, that of the Quarry will be much bet
ter for making of Lime, than that which we
pick up; and that dug out of a &longs;hady, moi&longs;t
Quarry, better than out of a dry one; and
made of white Stone, more tractable than of
black. In
Lime of Oy&longs;ter and Cockle-Shells. There is
moreover a kind of Lime which we call Plai
&longs;ter of Paris, which too is made of burnt
Stone; tho' we are told that in
about
of the Surface of the Earth, ready baked by
the Heat of the Sun. But the Stone that
makes the Plai&longs;ter of Paris, is different from
that which makes the Lime; for it is very
&longs;oft, and will ea&longs;ily rub to Pieces, except one
found in It differs
likewi&longs;e in this, that the Plai&longs;ter of Paris
Stone requires but twenty Hours; and the
Lime Stone takes three&longs;core Hours in burning. I have ob&longs;erved, that in
Sorts of Plai&longs;ter of Paris, two of which are
tran&longs;parent, and two which are not: Of the
tran&longs;parent, one is like Lumps of Allum, or
rather of Alaba&longs;ter, and they called it the
Scaly Sort, becau&longs;e it con&longs;its of extreme
thin Scales, one over the other, like the Coats
of an Onion. The other is &longs;caly too, but is
more like a blacki&longs;h Salt than Allum. The
Sorts that are not tran&longs;parent are both like a
very clo&longs;e Sort of Chalk, but one is pale and
whiti&longs;h, and the other with that Palene&longs;s has
a Tincture of red; which la&longs;t is firmer and
clo&longs;er than the fir&longs;t. Of the la&longs;t, the redde&longs;t
is the mo&longs;t tenacious. Of the fir&longs;t, that which
is the cleare&longs;t and white&longs;t is u&longs;ed in Stuc Work
for Figures and Corni&longs;hes.
NEAR
&longs;olid that you would take it for Marble or Ala
ba&longs;ter, which I had had cut with a Saw into
large thin Pieces, extremely convenient for In
cru&longs;tations. That I may omit nothing that is
nece&longs;&longs;ary, all Plai&longs;ter of Paris mu&longs;t be broken
and pounded with wooden Mallets, till it is
reduced to Powder, and &longs;o kept in Heaps in
&longs;ome very dry Place, and as &longs;oon as ever it is
brought out, it mu&longs;t be watered and u&longs;ed im
mediately.
BUT Lime on the Contrary need not be
pounded, but may be &longs;oak'd in the Lumps,
and mu&longs;t be plentifully &longs;oak'd with Water a
good while before you u&longs;e it, e&longs;pecially if it is
for Plai&longs;tering; to the Intent that if there
&longs;hould be any Lumps not enough burnt, it
may be di&longs;&longs;olv'd and liquify'd by long lying
in the Water: Becau&longs;e, when it is u&longs;ed too
&longs;oon, before it is duly &longs;oak'd, there will be &longs;ome
&longs;mall unconcocted Stones in it, which afterwards
coming to rot, throw out little Pu&longs;tules, which
&longs;poil the Neatne&longs;s of the Work. Add here
unto, that you need not give your Lime a
Flood, as I may call it, of Water at once, but
wet it by little and little, &longs;prinkling it &longs;everal
Times over, till it is in all Parts thoroughly
impregnated with it; afterwards it mu&longs;t be
kept in &longs;ome &longs;hady Place, moderately moi&longs;t,
clear from all Mixture, and only cover'd over
with a little Sand, till by Length of Time it is
better fermented; and it has been found that
Lime by this thorough Fermentation acquires
inconceivable Virtue. I have known &longs;ome
found in an old neglected Ditch, that, as
plainly appear'd by the &longs;tronge&longs;t Conjectures,
was left there above five hundred Years;
which when it was di&longs;cover'd was &longs;o moi&longs;t and
liquid, and, to u&longs;e the Expre&longs;&longs;ion, &longs;o mature,
that it far exceeded Honey or Marrow it&longs;elf in
Softne&longs;s; and nothing in Nature can be ima
gin'd more &longs;erviceable for all Manner of U&longs;es. It requires double the Sand if prepared thus,
In this,
therefore, Lime and Plai&longs;ter of Paris do not
agree; but in other Things they do. Carry
your Lime, therefore, immediately out of the
Kiln into a &longs;hady, dry Place, and water it; for
if you keep it either in the Kiln it&longs;elf, or any
where el&longs;e in the Air, or expos'd to the Moon
or Sun, e&longs;pecially in Summer, it would &longs;oon
crumble to Powder, and be totally u&longs;ele&longs;s. But of this &longs;ufficient.
They advi&longs;e us not to
put our Stone into the Kiln till we have bro
ken it into Pieces, not &longs;maller than the Clods;
for, not to mention that they will burn the
ea&longs;ier, it has been ob&longs;erved that in the middle
of &longs;ome Stones, and e&longs;pecially of round ones,
there are &longs;ometimes certain Concavities, in
which the Air being inclo&longs;ed often does a great
deal of Mi&longs;chief: For when they come to
feel the Fire in the Kiln, this Air is either
compre&longs;&longs;ed by the cold retiring inwards, or
el&longs;e when the Stone grows hot it turns to Va
pour, which makes it &longs;well till it bur&longs;ts the
Pri&longs;on wherein it is confined, and breaks out
with a dreadful Noi&longs;e and irre&longs;i&longs;tible Force,
and blows up the whole Kiln. Some in the
middle of &longs;uch Stones have &longs;een living Crea
tures, of various kinds, and particularly Worms
with a hairy Back, and a great Number of
Feet, which do a great deal of Harm to the
Kiln. And I will here add &longs;ome Things worthy
to be recorded, which have been &longs;een in our
Days, &longs;ince I do not write only for the U&longs;e of
Workmen, but al&longs;o for all &longs;uch as are &longs;tudious
of curious Enquiries; for which Rea&longs;on, I
&longs;hall not &longs;cruple, now and then, to intermix
any thing that is delightful, provided it is not
ab&longs;olutely foreign to my Purpo&longs;e.
THERE was brought to Pope
Serpent found by the Miners in a Quarry in
low of a great Stone, without the lea&longs;t Crack
or Hole in it for Admi&longs;&longs;ion of Air; in like
Manner Toads too have been found and Crabs,
but dead. I my&longs;elf have been Witne&longs;s to the
finding of the Leaves of Trees in the Middle
of a very white Piece of Marble. All the
Summit of Mount
divide the Country of
and is higher than any of the re&longs;t, is covered
over with a white Stone, &longs;o that the very
Mountain looks white with it, among which,
e&longs;pecially on that Side, which looks towards
Figures upon them, exactly like Sea-&longs;hells, not
bigger than the Palm of a Man's Hand. But,
what is more extraordinary, in the
they daily find Stones upon the Ground marked
with the Figure of the Cinquefoil, with every
Line and Vein drawn &longs;o exactly and regularly,
by the Hand of Nature, that the nice&longs;t Arti&longs;t
cannot pretend to come up to it; and which
is mo&longs;t curious of all, every one of the&longs;e Stones
are found with the Impre&longs;&longs;ion turned down
wards, and hid by the Stone, as if Nature had
not been at the Pains of &longs;uch fine Sculptures
to gain the Approbation of Men, but for her
own Diver&longs;ion. But to return to our Subject.
I SHALL not &longs;pend Time here to &longs;hew how
to make the Mouth of the Kiln, and its Co
vering, and the inward Seat of the Fire, and
how to give Vent to the Flame when it grows
hot, and to keep it, as it were, within its
own Confines, &longs;o as to direct the whole uni
ted Strength and Power of the Fire to the
burning of the Lime. Nor will I proceed to
teach how the Fire is to be kindled by little
and little, and never left till the Flame burns
out at the Top of the Furnace perfectly clear,
and without the lea&longs;t Smoke, and till the very
uppermo&longs;t Stones are red hot; and that the
Stone is not burnt enough, till the Kiln,
which had been &longs;welled and cracked by the
Fire, afterwards &longs;ettles and clo&longs;es it&longs;elf again. It is a &longs;urprizing Thing to ob&longs;erve the Nature
of this Element; for if you take away the Fire,
the Kiln will grow cooler and cooler by De
grees at the Bottom, while it continues burn
ing hot at Top. But as in Building, we have
Occa&longs;ion not only for Lime, but Sand, we will
now &longs;ay &longs;omething about that.
CHAP. XII.
ing, in different Places.
There are three Sorts of Sand, Pit
&longs;and, River-&longs;and, and Sea-&longs;and; the
be&longs;t of all the&longs;e is the Pit-&longs;and; and this is of
&longs;everal Kinds; black, white, red, the car
buncly, and the gritty. But if any &longs;hould ask
what I take Sand to be, I might perhaps an
the &longs;malle&longs;t Stones, the large ones being all bro
ken to Pieces; tho' it is
that Sand, e&longs;pecially that which in
they call the carbuncly Sort, is a Kind of
Earth burnt by the Fire inclo&longs;ed by Nature
within the Hills, and made &longs;omewhat harder
than Earth unburnt, but &longs;ofter than any Stone. Of all the&longs;e they mo&longs;t commend the carbuncly
Sort. I have ob&longs;erved, that in the publick
Buildings in
of the wor&longs;t. Of all the Pit-&longs;and the white is
the wor&longs;t. The gritty is of U&longs;e in filling up
of Foundations; but among the be&longs;t, they
give the &longs;econd Place to the fine&longs;t of the
gritty, and e&longs;pecially to the &longs;harp angular Sort,
without the lea&longs;t Mixture of Earth in it, as is
that which they find in the Territory of the Next to this they e&longs;teem the
River Sand, which is dug after the uppermo&longs;t
Layer is taken off; and next to the River
&longs;and that of the Torrent, e&longs;pecially of &longs;uch
Torrents as run between Hills, where the
Water has the greate&longs;t De&longs;cent. In the la&longs;t
Place comes the Sea-&longs;and, and of this Sort,
the blacke&longs;t and mo&longs;t glazed is not wholly to
be de&longs;pi&longs;ed. In the Country, near
they e&longs;teem their Sea-&longs;and not inferior to Pit
&longs;and, but they &longs;ay it is not to be dug in all
Parts of the Shore alike; for they find it wor&longs;t
of all where it is expo&longs;ed to the South Wind;
but it is not bad in tho&longs;e Places which look to
the South-we&longs;t. But of Sea-&longs;ands, it is certain
the be&longs;t is that which lies under Rocks, and
which is of the coar&longs;e&longs;t Grain. There is a
great deal of Difference in Sands, for that of
the Sea is very &longs;low in drying, and is continu
ally moi&longs;t and apt to di&longs;&longs;olve, by Rea&longs;on of its
Salt, and is therefore very improper and un
faithful in &longs;upporting of great Weights. That
of the River too is &longs;omewhat moi&longs;ter than the
Pit-&longs;and, and therefore is more tractable and
better for Plai&longs;tering-work. The Pit-&longs;and, by
means of its Fatne&longs;s, is mo&longs;t tenacious, but is
apt to crack, for which Rea&longs;on they u&longs;e it in
Vault-work, but not in plai&longs;tering. But of
each Sort, that is always be&longs;t, which being
rubbed with the Hand creeks the mo&longs;t, and
being laid upon a white Cloth, makes the
lea&longs;t Soil, and leaves the lea&longs;t Earth behind it. On the contrary, that is the wor&longs;t, which feels
mealy in&longs;tead of &longs;harp, and which in Smell and
Colour re&longs;embles red Earth, and being mixed
with Water makes it foul and muddy, and if
le&longs;t abroad in the Air, pre&longs;ently brings forth
Gra&longs;s. Neither will that be good, which af
ter it is dug, is left for any Time expo&longs;ed to
the Sun, or Moon, or to Fro&longs;ts; becau&longs;e it
turns it in a Manner to Earth, and makes it
very apt to rot; or when it is inclined to
bring &longs;orth Shrubs, or wild Figs, it is ex
tremly bad for cementing of Walls. We have
now treated of Timber, Stone, Lime, and
Sand, &longs;uch as are approved of by the Anci
ents; but in all Places the&longs;e Things are not
to be found with all the Qualifications which
we require.
of its Abundance of Marble, always flouri&longs;hed
in fine Buildings and Statues; but Marble is
not to be got every where. In &longs;ome Places
there is either no Stone at all, or what there is,
is good for no manner of U&longs;e. In all the
Southern Parts of
Want of Sand-Pits, but on the other Side of
the
thaginiansIn &longs;ome Places, not ha
ving any Sort of Stone, they build with
Hurdles and Potters Earth.
that the
well publick as private, of nothing but Wood,
even to the Walls of their City, and the Sta
tues of their Gods.
have no Wood at all; and that for Want of it
they are obliged to make their Fires of Bones. In
tle. For this Rea&longs;on, the Habitations of Men
are different, according to the different Conve
niencies of the Country. Among the
tians
and in In
ræ,
of Salt: But of the&longs;e el&longs;ewhere. So that as
we have already ob&longs;erved, there is not the &longs;ame
Plenty of Stone, Sand, and the like, every
where, but in different Places there are diffe
rent Accommodations and Conveniencies:
Therefore we are to make U&longs;e of &longs;uch as of
fer them&longs;elves; and out of tho&longs;e we &longs;hould,
in the fir&longs;t Place, make it our Bu&longs;ine&longs;s, always
to &longs;elect and provide the be&longs;t and propere&longs;t,
and, &longs;econdly, in building with them, we
&longs;hould carefully allot to each its proper Place
and Situation.
CHAP. XIII.
Building; what Sea&longs;on is mo&longs;t convenient; as al&longs;o, with what Auguries or
Prayers we ought to &longs;et out upon our Work.
Having got ready the Materials before
&longs;poken of, it remains now that we pro
ceed to treat of the Work it&longs;elf. For as to the
providing of Iron, Bra&longs;s, Lead, Gla&longs;s, and the
like, it requires no Care, but merely the Buy
ing, and having them in Readine&longs;s, that your
Building may not &longs;tand &longs;till for them; tho'
we &longs;hall in due Time lay down &longs;ome In&longs;truc
tions about the Choice and Di&longs;tribution of
them, which is of Con&longs;equence to the com
pleating and adorning the Work. And we
&longs;hall take and con&longs;ider the Structure from the
Foundation, in the &longs;ame Manner as if we were
actually about doing the Work our&longs;elves. But
here I mu&longs;t again admoni&longs;h you to con&longs;ider
the Times, both with Relation to the Publick,
and to your&longs;elf and Family, whether they are
trouble&longs;ome or peaceable, pro&longs;perous or cala
mitous, le&longs;t we expo&longs;e our&longs;elve
go on with our Undertaking, or to Lo&longs;s if we
give it over. We &longs;hould al&longs;o have a particu
lar Regard to the Sea&longs;on of the Year; for we
&longs;ee that Buildings begun and pro&longs;ecuted
in Winter, e&longs;pecially in a cold Climate,
are taken with the Fro&longs;t, or in Summer,
in a hot Climate, dry'd up with the Heat before
ever they have fa&longs;ten'd. For this Rea&longs;on it
was that
never to undertake &longs;uch a Work but in a pro
per Sea&longs;on of the Year, which is from the Be
ginning of
ber,
of Summer. But I am for ha&longs;tening or delay
ing the Work ju&longs;t according to the Difference
of the Climate and of the Weather; and there
fore if you are prepar'd with all the Things before
recited, and your Convenience &longs;uits, you have
nothing to do but to mark out the Area of
your Structure in the Ground, with all its
Lines, Angles and Dimen&longs;ions. But there are
&longs;ome who tell us that in Building we &longs;hould
ob&longs;erve and wait for happy Au&longs;pices, and that
it is of the utmo&longs;t Importance from what par
ticular Point of Time the Structure is to date
its Being. They relate, that
found out the exact Nativity of
by the Ob&longs;ervation of the Turns in its For
tune. The wi&longs;e&longs;t Men among the Ancients
had &longs;uch an Opinion of the Con&longs;equence of
the Moment of the Beginning a Thing might
have as to its future Succe&longs;s, that
micus Maturnus
ans that pretended to have di&longs;cover'd the very
in&longs;tant when the World had its Beginning,
and that wrote very accurately about it: For
it begun ju&longs;t at the Ri&longs;ing of the
the Moon was fourteen Days old, the Sun
being in
and And indeed, if we
rightly con&longs;ider them, the Times may have a
great Influence in Things. For how is it el&longs;e,
that in the &longs;horte&longs;t Day of the Year, the
Penny-royal, tho' quite dry, &longs;prouts and flou
ri&longs;hes; Bladders that are blown up bur&longs;t; the
Leaves of Willows, and the Kernels of Apples
turn and change Sides; and that the &longs;mall
Fibres of a Shell-fi&longs;h corre&longs;pond, increa&longs;e and
decrea&longs;e with the Increa&longs;e and Decrea&longs;e of
the Moon. I mu&longs;t confe&longs;s, though I have
not &longs;o much Faith in the Profe&longs;&longs;ors of this
Science, and the Ob&longs;ervers of Times and Sea
&longs;ons, as to believe their Art can influence the
Fortune of any Thing, yet I think they are not
to be de&longs;pi&longs;ed when they argue for the Happi
ne&longs;s or Adver&longs;ity of &longs;uch &longs;tated Times as the&longs;e
from the Di&longs;po&longs;ition of the Heavens. But let
this be as it will, the following their In&longs;tructi
ons may be of great Service, if true; and can
do little harm, if fal&longs;e. I might here add &longs;ome
ridiculous Circum&longs;tances which the Ancients
ob&longs;erved in the Beginning of their Undertakings;
but I would not have them interpreted in a
wrong Sen&longs;e; and indeed they de&longs;erve only to
be laughed at, who would per&longs;wade us that
the very Marking out of the Platform ought
to be done under proper Au&longs;pices. The An
cients were &longs;o governed by the&longs;e Super&longs;titions,
that in making out the Li&longs;ts of their Armies,
not an unlucky Name; which was a Rule they
al&longs;o ob&longs;erved in the Ceremony of purifying their
Soldiers and their Colonies, wherein, the Per
&longs;on that was to lead the Bea&longs;t to the Sacrifice
mu&longs;t have a fortunate Name. And the Cen
&longs;ors, in framing out the publick Revenues and
E&longs;tates, always began with the Lake
becau&longs;e of the Lucrativene&longs;s of its Name, So
likewi&longs;e, being terrified with the di&longs;mal Name
of
not be &longs;aid to be gone a damnable Voyage,
they changed its Name into
likewi&longs;e they &longs;erved
was called Neither, on the other
Hand, can I forbear laughing at their Conceit,
that in beginning Undertakings of this Sort it
was good to repeat certain favourable Words
and Charms.
AND there are &longs;ome that affirm, that Men's
Words are &longs;o powerful, that they are obey'd
even by Bea&longs;ts and Things inanimate. I omit
be refre&longs;h'd by certain Words. They tell us
too, that they u&longs;ed with certain Prayers and
Forms of Words to entreat and be&longs;eech their
Mother Earth to give Nouri&longs;hment to foreign
Trees, and &longs;uch as &longs;he was not accu&longs;tom'd to
bear; and that the Trees al&longs;o were to be
humbly pray'd to &longs;uffer them&longs;elves to be re
mov'd, and to thrive in another Ground. And
&longs;ince we are got into this fooli&longs;h Strain of re
cording the Follies of other Men, I will al&longs;o
mention, for Diver&longs;ion Sake, what they tell us,
that the Words of Mankind are of &longs;uch Effect,
that Turnips will grow incredibly, if when we
&longs;ow them we at the &longs;ame Time pray them to
be gracious and lucky to us, our Families, and
our Neighbourhood. But if the&longs;e be &longs;o, I can't
imagine why the Ba&longs;ilico-root &longs;hould, as they
&longs;ay, grow the fa&longs;ter for being cur&longs;t and abu&longs;ed
when it is &longs;own. But let us leave this idle Sub
ject. It is undoubtedly proper, omitting all
the&longs;e uncertain Super&longs;titions, to &longs;et about our
Work with a holy and religious Preparation.
Jovis omnia plena.
We ought therefore to begin our Undertaking
with a clean Heart, and with devout Oblati
ons, and with Prayers to Almighty God to
implore his A&longs;&longs;i&longs;tance, and Ble&longs;&longs;ing upon the
Beginnings of our Labours, that it may have
a happy and pro&longs;perous Ending, with Strength
and Happine&longs;s to it and its Inhabitants, with
Content of Mind, Encrea&longs;e of Fortune, Succe&longs;s
of Indu&longs;try, Acqui&longs;ition of Glory, and a Suc
ce&longs;&longs;ion and Continuance of all good Things. So much for our Preparation.
THE
ARCHITECTURE
OF
BOOK III. CHAP. I.
Wherein lies the Bu&longs;ine&longs;s of the Work; the different Parts of
the Wall, and what they require. That the Foundation is no Part of the
Wall; what Soil makes the be&longs;t Foundation.
The whole Bu&longs;ine&longs;s of the working
Part of Building is this; by a re
gular and artful Conjunction of
different Things, whether &longs;quare
Stone, or uneven Scantlings, or
Timber, or any other &longs;trong Material, to form
them as well as po&longs;&longs;ible into a &longs;olid, regular,
and con&longs;i&longs;tent Structure. We call it regular
and con&longs;i&longs;tent when the Parts are not incon
gruous and disjointed, but are di&longs;po&longs;ed in their
proper Places, and are an&longs;werable one to the
other, and conformable to a right Ordinance of
Lines. We are therefore to con&longs;ider what are
the principal e&longs;&longs;ential Parts in the Wall, and
what are only the Lines and Di&longs;po&longs;ition of
tho&longs;e Parts. Nor are the Parts of the Wall
any Thing difficult to find out; for the Top,
the Bottom, the right Side, the Left, the re
mote Parts, the Near, the Middle are obvious
of them&longs;elves; but the particular Nature of
each of the&longs;e, and wherein they differ, is not
&longs;o ea&longs;ily known. For the rai&longs;ing a Building is
not, as the Ignorant imagine, merely laying
Stone upon Stone, or Brick upon Brick; but
as there is a great Diver&longs;ity of Parts, &longs;o there
requires a great Diver&longs;ity of Materials and Con
trivance. For one Thing is proper in the
Foundation, another in the naked Wall and in
the Corni&longs;h, another for the Coins, and for the
Lips of the Apertures, one for the outward
Face of the Wall, another for the cramming
and filling up the middle Parts: Our Bu&longs;ine&longs;s
here is to &longs;hew what is requi&longs;ite in each of
the&longs;e. In doing this, therefore, we &longs;hall begin
at the Foundation, imitating, as we &longs;aid before,
tho&longs;e that are actually going to rai&longs;e the Struc
ture. The Foundation, if I mi&longs;take not, is
not properly a Part of the Wall, but the Place
and Seat on which the Wall is reared. For
if we can find a Seat perfectly firm and &longs;olid,
con&longs;i&longs;ting perhaps of nothing but Stone, what
Foundation are we obliged to make? None,
thence to erect our Wall. At
huge Towers rai&longs;ed immediately from the na
ked Earth, becau&longs;e the Hill is lined with a
&longs;olid Rock. Making a Foundation, that is
to &longs;ay, digging up the Ground, and making a
Trench, is nece&longs;&longs;ary in tho&longs;e Places, where
you cannot find firm Ground without digging;
which, indeed, is the Ca&longs;e almo&longs;t every where,
as will appear hereafter. The Marks of a good
Soil for a Foundation are the&longs;e; if it does not
produce any kind of Herb that u&longs;ually grows
in moi&longs;t Places; if it bears either no Tree at
all, or only &longs;uch as delight in a very hard,
clo&longs;e Earth; if every Thing round about is
extremely dry, and, as it were, quite parched
up; if the Place is &longs;tony, not with &longs;mall round
Pebbles, but large &longs;harp Stones, and e&longs;pecially
Flints; if there are no Springs nor Veins of
Water running under it; becau&longs;e the Nature
of all Streams is either to be perpetually car
rying away, or bringing &longs;omething along with
them: And therefore it is that in all flat
Grounds, lying near any River, you can never
meet with any firm Soil, till you dig below
the Level of the Channel. Before you begin
to dig your Foundations, you &longs;hould once
again carefully review and con&longs;ider all the
Lines and Angles of your Platform, what Di
men&longs;ions they are to be of, and how they are
to di&longs;po&longs;ed. In making the&longs;e Angles we mu&longs;t
u&longs;e a &longs;quare Rule, not of a &longs;mall but of a
very large Size, that our &longs;trait Lines may be
the truer. The Ancients made their &longs;quare
Rule of three &longs;trait ones joined together in a
Triangle, whereof one was of three Cubits,
the other of four, and the third of five. The
Ignorant do not know how to make the&longs;e
Angles till they have fir&longs;t cleared away every
Thing that incumbers the Area, and have it
all per&longs;ectly open, almo&longs;t level before them:
For which Rea&longs;on, laying furiou&longs;ly hold of
their Tools, they fall like &longs;o many Ravagers
to demoli&longs;hing and levelling every Thing be
fore them; which would become them much
better in the Country of an Enemy. But the
Error of the&longs;e Men ought to be corrected;
for a Change of Fortune, or the Adver&longs;ity of
the Times, or &longs;ome unfore&longs;een Accident, or
Nece&longs;&longs;ity, may po&longs;&longs;ibly oblige you to lay a&longs;ide
the Thoughts of the Undertaking you have
begun. And it is certainly very un&longs;eemly, in
the mean while, to have no Regard to the
Labours of your Ance&longs;tors, or to the Conve
niencies which your Fellow-Citizens find in
the&longs;e paternal Habitations, which they have
been long accu&longs;tomed to; and as for pulling
down and demoli&longs;hing, that is in your Power
at any Time. I am therefore for pre&longs;erving
the old Structures untouched, till &longs;uch Time
as it is ab&longs;olutely nece&longs;&longs;ary to remove them
to make Way for the new.
CHAP. II.
Tokens we may know the Goodne&longs;s of the Ground.
In marking out your Foundations, you are
to remember, that the &longs;ir&longs;t Ground-work
of your Wall, and the Soccles, which are
called Foundations too, mu&longs;t be a determinate
Proportion broader than the Wall that is to be
erected upon it; in Imitation of tho&longs;e who
walk over the Snow in the
who wear upon their Feet Hurdles made of
Twigs and &longs;mall Ropes, plaited together for
that very Purpo&longs;e, the Broadne&longs;s of which
keeps them from &longs;inking in the Snow. How
to di&longs;po&longs;e the Angles, is not ea&longs;y to teach
clearly with Words alone; becau&longs;e the Method
of drawing them, is borrowed &longs;rom the Ma
thematicks, and &longs;tands in Need of the Ex
ample of Lines, a Thing &longs;oreign to our De&longs;ign
here, and which we have treated of in another
Place, in our Mathematical Commentaries. However, I will endeavour, as far as is nece&longs;
&longs;ary here, to &longs;peak of them in &longs;uch a Manner,
that if you have any Share of Ingenuity, you
may ea&longs;ily comprehend many Things, by
Means of which you may afterwards make
your&longs;elf Ma&longs;ter of all the re&longs;t. Whatever may
chance to &longs;eem more ob&longs;cure, if you have a
Mind to under&longs;tand it thoroughly, you may
apply to tho&longs;e Commentaries. My Method,
then, in de&longs;cribing the Foundations, is to draw
&longs;ome Lines, which I call radical ones,
in this Manner*. From the Middle
of the Fore-front of the Work, I draw a Line
quite thro' to the Back-front, in the Middle
which I rai&longs;e, and let fall Perpendiculars, ac
cording to the Method of the Geometers; and
to the&longs;e two Lines I reduce every Thing
that I have Occa&longs;ion to mea&longs;ure; which &longs;uc
ceeds per&longs;ectly well in all Re&longs;pects; for the
Parallel Lines are obvious; you &longs;ee exactly
where to make your Angles corre&longs;pondent,
and to di&longs;po&longs;e every Part con&longs;i&longs;tently, and
agreeably, with the others. But if it &longs;o hap
pens, that any old Buildings ob&longs;truct your
Sight from di&longs;covering and fixing upon the
exact Seat of every Angle; your Bu&longs;ine&longs;s
then is to draw Lines, at equal Di&longs;tances, in
tho&longs;e Places which are clear and free; then
having marked the Point of Inter&longs;ection, by
the A&longs;&longs;i&longs;tance of the Diameter and Gnomon,
and by drawing other Lines at equal Di&longs;tances,
fitted to the Square, we may compleatly effect
our Purpo&longs;e: And it will be of no &longs;mall Con
venience to terminate the Ray of Sight with a
Line in tho&longs;e Places which lie higher than the
re&longs;t; whence letting fall a Perpendicular, we
may find the right Direction and Production of
our Lines. Having marked out the Lines
and Angles of our Trenches, we ought to
have, if po&longs;&longs;ible, as &longs;harp and clear a Sight as
a certain
&longs;aid to have, who they tell us, could &longs;ee the
lowe&longs;t Veins of Water that run under Ground,
as plainly as if they were above Ground. So
the many Things happen under the Surface of
Earth, which we know nothing of, as makes it
un&longs;afe to tru&longs;t the Weight and Expence of a
Building to it. And, certainly, as in all the
re&longs;t of the Structure, &longs;o e&longs;pecially in the Foun
dations, we ought to neglect no Precaution
which it becomes an accurate and diligent
Architect to take; for an Error in any other
Part does le&longs;s Mi&longs;chief, and is more ea&longs;ily re
medied, or better borne, than in the Founda
tion; in which, a Mi&longs;take is inexcu&longs;able. But
the Ancicnts u&longs;ed to &longs;ay, dig on, and good
Fortune attend you, till you find a &longs;olid Bot
tom; for the Earth has &longs;everal Strata, and
tho&longs;e of different Natures; &longs;ome &longs;andy, others
gravelly, &longs;ome &longs;tony, and the like; under
which, at certain Depths, is a hard, firm
Bank, fit to &longs;upport the heavie&longs;t Structure. This al&longs;o is various, and hardly like any thing of
its own kind in any Particular; in &longs;ome Places
it is exce&longs;&longs;ively hard, and &longs;carce penetrable with
Iron; in others, fatter and &longs;ofter; in &longs;ome
Places blacker, in others whiter; which la&longs;t
is reckoned the weake&longs;t of all; in &longs;ome Places
chalky, in others, &longs;tony; in others, a Kind
of Potters Clay mixed with Gravel; of all
which, no other certain Judgment can be
made, but that the be&longs;t is reckoned to be that
which is harde&longs;t to the Pick-axe, and which
when wetted does not di&longs;&longs;olve. And for this
Rea&longs;on, none is thought firmer and &longs;tronger,
or more durable, than that which &longs;erves as a
Bottom to any Springs of Water in the Bowels
of the Earth. But it is my Opinion, that the
be&longs;t Way is to take Coun&longs;el with di&longs;ereet and
experienced Men of the Country, and with
the neighbouring Architects; who, both from
the Example of old Structures, and from their
daily Practice in actual Building, mu&longs;t be the
be&longs;t Judges of the Nature of the Soil, and
what Weight it is able to bear. There are
al&longs;o Methods of proving the Firmne&longs;s of the
Soil. If you roll any great Weight along the
Ground, or let it fall down from any Heighth,
and it does not make the Earth &longs;hake, nor
&longs;tir the Water &longs;et there on Purpo&longs;e in a Ba&longs;on;
you may &longs;afely promi&longs;e your&longs;elf a good, &longs;ound
Foundation in that Place. But in &longs;ome Coun
tries there is no &longs;olid Bottom to be found any
where; as near the
nice,
met with but a loo&longs;e, &longs;oft Mud.
page 44)
CHAP. III.
Place too ha&longs;tily, till we have fir&longs;t dug Wells, or Re&longs;ervoirs; but that in
mar&longs;hy Places, we mu&longs;t make our Foundation with Piles burnt at the Ends,
and driven in with their Heads downward with light Beetles, and many
repeated Blows, till they are driven quite into the Head.
You mu&longs;t therefore u&longs;e different Me
thods for your Foundations, according
to the Diver&longs;ity of Places, whereof &longs;ome are
lofty, &longs;ome low, others between both, as the
Sides of Hills: Some again are parcht and
dry, as generally the Summits and Ridges of
tho&longs;e which lie near Seas or Lakes, or in Bot
toms between Hills. Others are &longs;o &longs;ituated as
to be neither always dry nor always wet, which
is the Nature of ca&longs;y A&longs;cents, where the
Water does not lie and &longs;oak, but runs gently
off. We mu&longs;t never tru&longs;t too ha&longs;tily to any
Ground, tho' it does re&longs;i&longs;t the Pick-axe, for
it may be in a Plain, and be infirm, the Con
&longs;equence of which might be the Ruin of the
whole Work. I have &longs;een a Tower at
a Place belonging to the
a few Years after it was built, made its Way
thro' the Ground it &longs;tood upon, which, as
the Fact evinced, was a loo&longs;e weak Soil, and
bury'd it&longs;elf in Earth, up to the very Battle
ments. For this Rea&longs;on they are very much
to be blamed, who not being provided by Na
ture with a Soil fit to &longs;upport the Weight of
an Edifice, and Lightning upon the Ruins or
Remains of &longs;ome old Structure, do not take
the Pains to examine the Goodne&longs;s of its Foun
dation, but incon&longs;iderately rai&longs;e great Piles of
Building upon it, and out of the Avarice of
&longs;aving a little Expence, throw away all the
Money they lay out in the Work. It is there
fore excellent Advice, the fir&longs;t Thing you do
to dig Wells, for &longs;everal Rea&longs;ons, and e&longs;peci
ally in order to get acquainted with the Strata
of the Earth, whether &longs;ound enough to bear
the Super&longs;tructure, or likely to give way. Add,
likewi&longs;e, that the Water you find in them, and
the Stuff you dig out, will be of great Service
to you in &longs;everal Parts of your Work; and
moreover, that the Opening &longs;uch Vents will be
a great Security to the Firmne&longs;s of the Build
ing, and prevent its being injured by &longs;ubter
rancous Exhalations. Having therefore, either
by digging a Well, or a Ci&longs;tern, or a Shoar, or
any other Hole of that Nature, made your&longs;elf
thoroughly acquainted with the Veins or
Layers of the Earth, you are to make Choice
of that which you may mo&longs;t &longs;afely tru&longs;t with
your Super&longs;tructure. In Eminences, or where
ever el&longs;e the Water is running down wa&longs;hes
away the Ground, the deeper you make your
Trench, the better. And that the Hills are
actually eaten and wa&longs;h'd away, and wa&longs;ted
more and more daily by continual Rains, is
evident &longs;rom the Caverns and Rocks which
every Day grow more vi&longs;ible, whereas at fir&longs;t
they were &longs;o cover'd with Earth that we could
hardly perceive them. Mount
is about
was all over cover'd with Firs; and now it is
quite wild and naked; occa&longs;ion'd, as I &longs;up
po&longs;e, by the Wa&longs;hing of the Rain In Situ
ations upon Slopes,
gin our Foundations at the lowe&longs;t Part of the
Slope fir&longs;t; which is certainly very right, for
be&longs;ides that whatever you lay there will always
&longs;tand firm and unmoveable in its Place, it will
al&longs;o &longs;erve as a Prop or Buttre&longs;s, to whatever
you add to the upper Parts, if you aftewards
think fit to enlarge your Structure. You will
al&longs;o thereby di&longs;cover and provide again&longs;t tho&longs;e
Defects which &longs;ometimes happen in &longs;uch Tren
ches by the cracking or falling in of the Earth. In
mar&longs;hy Grounds, you &longs;hould make your Trench
very wide, and fortify both Sides of it with
Stakes, Hurdles, Planks, Sea-weeds, and Clay,
&longs;o &longs;trongly that no Water may get in; then
you mu&longs;t draw off every drop of Water that
happens to be left within your Frame-work,
and dig out the Sand, and clear away the Mud
from the Bottom till you have firm dry Ground
to &longs;et your Foot upon. The &longs;ame you are to
do in &longs;andy Ground, as far as Nece&longs;&longs;ity requires. Moreover, the Bottom of the Trench
mu&longs;t be laid exactly level, not &longs;loping on
either Side, that the Materials laid upon it may
be equally balanced. There is a natural in
&longs;tinct in all heavy Bodies to lean and pre&longs;s
upon the lowe&longs;t Parts. There are other
Things which they direct us to do in mar&longs;hy
Situations, but they belong rather to the Wal
ling than to the Foundations. They order us to
drive into the Ground a great Number of
Stakes and Piles burnt at the End, and &longs;et
with their Heads downwards, &longs;o as to have
a Surface of twice the Breadth that we intend
for our Wall; that the&longs;e Piles &longs;hould never be
le&longs;s in length than the eighth Part of the
Heighth of the Wall to be built upon them,
and for their Thickne&longs;s, it &longs;hould be the
twel&longs;th Part of their Length, and no le&longs;s. La&longs;tly
they &longs;hould be drove in &longs;o clo&longs;e that their is
not room for one more. The In&longs;trument we
u&longs;e for driving in the&longs;e Piles, whatever Sort it
it is of, &longs;hould do its Bu&longs;ine&longs;s by a great many
repeated Strokes; for when it is too heavy,
coming down with an immen&longs;e and intolerable
Force, it breaks and &longs;plits the Timber; but the
continual Repetition of gentle Strokes wearies
and overcomes the greate&longs;t Hardne&longs;s and Ob&longs;ti
nacy of the Ground. You have an In&longs;tance of this
when you go to drive a &longs;mall Nail into a hard
Piece of Timber; if you u&longs;e a great heavy
Hammer, it won't do; but if you work with
a manageable light one, it penetrates imme-
PLATE 4.
“Linea Prima” = first line.
“Linea Seconda” = second line.
“Chiodo” = nail.
PLATE 5.
What has been &longs;aid may &longs;uffice, with relation
to our Trench, unle&longs;s we would add, that
&longs;ometimes, either to &longs;ave Money, or to avoid
an intermediate Piece of rotten Ground, it may
not be ami&longs;s to make a Foundation not con
tinued entire all the way, but with Intervals
left between, as if we were only making
Columns or Pila&longs;ters, then turning Arches
from one Pila&longs;ter to the other, to
lay over them the re&longs;t of the Wall
In the&longs;e we are to ob&longs;erve the &longs;ame
Directions as we gave before; but the greater
Weight you are to rai&longs;e upon them, the large. and &longs;tronger Pila&longs;ters and Ba&longs;es you mu&longs;t
make. But of the&longs;e enough.
Plate 5.
CHAP. IV.
Mortar.
We now come to begin our Wall; but
as the Workman's Art and Manner
of Building depends partly upon the Nature,
Form and Quality of his Stone, and partly
upon the Tempering of his Mortar, we are
therefore fir&longs;t to treat briefly of the&longs;e. Of
Stones, &longs;ome are living, juicy, and &longs;trong, &longs;uch
as Flint, Marble, and the like, which by Na
ture are heavy and &longs;onorous; others are ex
hau&longs;ted, light, and dead &longs;ounding, as are all
Stones that are &longs;oft and &longs;andy. Again, &longs;ome
have even Superficies, &longs;trait Lines, and equal
Angles, which are call'd Squared Stones;
others have uneven Superficies, of various
Lines, and unequal Angles, which we call
Rough. Of Stones al&longs;o, &longs;ome are big and
unweildy, &longs;o that a Man's Hand cannot
manage them at Plea&longs;ure, without the A&longs;&longs;i&longs;tance
of Sleds, Leavers, Rowlers, Pullies, or the
like Engines; others &longs;mall, &longs;o as you may
rai&longs;e and manage them with one &longs;ingle Hand
ju&longs;t as you plea&longs;e. The third Sort is between
both, of a moderate Size and Weight, which
are call'd &longs;izeable. All Stone &longs;hould be En
tire, not Muddy, and well wa&longs;h'd; you may
know whether it is Entire or Crack'd, by the
Sound it gives when you Strike upon it. You
can wa&longs;h them no where better than in a
River; and it is certain that the Middling
&longs;izeable Sort are not &longs;oak'd enough under nine
Days, and the large ones under more. That
which is fre&longs;h dug out of the Quarry is better
than that which has been long kept; and that
which has been once cemented with Mortar
will not cement well again a &longs;econd Time. So much may &longs;uffice as to Stone.
As for
Lime, they condemn that which when it
comes from the Kiln is not in entire Lumps,
but in broken Pieces, and as it were in Pow
der, and they &longs;ay it will never prove &longs;ervice
able. They commend that which purges and
grows white in the Fire, and which is light
and &longs;onorous, and when you water it, bur&longs;ts,
and throws out a &longs;trong thick Smoke high into
the Air. The former, being weak, mu&longs;t of
Cour&longs;e require le&longs;s Sand; but this latter, being
&longs;trong, requires more.
every two Foot of Work, we &longs;hould allow one
Bu&longs;hel of Lime and two of Sand: Others
pre&longs;cribe different Proportions.
to give to each Bu&longs;hel of Lime three of Pit
&longs;and, or two of River or Sea-&longs;and. La&longs;tly,
when the Quality and Nature of your Stone
requires your Mortar to be more liquid or
tractable (which we &longs;hall &longs;peak of more clearly
below) your Sand mu&longs;t be &longs;ifted through a
Sieve; but when it is to be &longs;tiffer, then mix it
with half Gravel and broken Fragments of
Stone. All agree, that if you mix it with
one third of broken Tile or Brick pounded, it
will be much more tenacious. However, mix
it as you will, you mu&longs;t &longs;tir it about often, till
the &longs;malle&longs;t Pieces are incorparated; and &longs;ome,
for this Purpo&longs;e, and that it may be well
mingled together, &longs;tir it about and beat it a
great while in a Mortar. But we &longs;hall &longs;ay
no more here of the Cement, only thus much,
that Lime takes better hold with Stone of its
own Kind, and e&longs;pecially out of the &longs;ame
Quarry, than with a Stranger.
CHAP. V.
of the Ancients.
For making the lower Cour&longs;es, that is to
&longs;ay, rai&longs;ing the Foundations up to the
Level of the Ground, I do not find any Precepts
among the Ancients, except this one, that all
Stones which, after being in the Air two Years,
di&longs;cover any Defect, mu&longs;t be bani&longs;h'd into the
Foundation. For as in an Army, the &longs;luggi&longs;h
and weak who cannot endure the Sun and
Du&longs;t, are &longs;ent home with Marks of Infamy,
&longs;o the&longs;e &longs;oft enervated Stones ought to be re
jected, and left to an inglorious Repo&longs;e in their
primitive Ob&longs;curity. Indeed I find by Hi&longs;torians,
that the Ancients took as much Care of the
Strength and Soundne&longs;s of their Foundation in
all its Parts as of any other Part of the Wall.
(the Author of the Law, that whoever was
&longs;ued for Debt &longs;hould give the Corp&longs;e of his
Father in Pawn) when he built a Pyramid of
Bricks to make his Foundations, drove Piles
into the Mar&longs;h, and laid his Bricks upon them. And we are inform'd that
lent Architect that built the famous Temple
of
a level Piece of Ground, thoroughly drain'd,
and likely to be free from Earthquakes; that
he might not lay the Foundations of &longs;uch a
huge Pile in &longs;o loo&longs;e and unfaithful a Soil
without due Precautions, fir&longs;t made a Bottom
of Coals pounded to Du&longs;t; then drove in Piles
with Fleeces and Coals wedged in between
Pile and Pile; and over the&longs;e a Cour&longs;e of
Stone with very long Junctures.
WE find that about
Foundations of their Publick Works, they
&longs;ometimes u&longs;ed Stones thirty Feet long, and
not le&longs;s than fifteen high. But I have ob
&longs;erved, that in other Places, the Ancients,
who were wonderfully expert in managing of
great Works, followed different Rules and
Methods in filling up the Foundations. In
the Sepulchre of the
up with little Pieces of very hard Stone, each
not bigger than a Handful, and which they
perfectly drowned in Mortar. In the
Argentarium,
broken Stones; in the
the very wor&longs;t Sort of &longs;oft Stuff. But I am
mightily plea&longs;ed with tho&longs;e who in the
imitated Nature, in a Contrivance particularly
well adapted to Hills; for as &longs;he, in the For
mation of Mountains, mixes the &longs;ofte&longs;t Mate
rials with the harde&longs;t Stone, &longs;o the&longs;e Work
men &longs;ir&longs;t laid a Cour&longs;e of &longs;quared Stone, as
&longs;trong as they could get, to the Heighth of
two Feet; over the&longs;e they made a Kind of
Plai&longs;ter of Mortar, and broken Fragments,
then another Cour&longs;e of Stone, and with another
of Plai&longs;ter they fini&longs;hed their Foundation. I
have known other In&longs;tances, where the An
cients have made much the &longs;ame Sort of Foun
dations and Structures too, of coar&longs;e Pit-gra
vel, and common Stone that they have picked
up by chance, which have la&longs;ted many Ages. Upon pulling down a very high and &longs;trong
Tower at
Foundations were filled with nothing but
round Stones and Chalk, to the Heighth of
nine Feet; the other Parts were built with
Mortar. We find therefore that very different
Methods have been u&longs;ed, and which to ap
prove mo&longs;t I confe&longs;s my&longs;elf at a Lo&longs;s, all of
them have &longs;o long endured firm and &longs;ound. So that I think we ought to chu&longs;e that which
is lea&longs;t expen&longs;ive, provided we do not throw
in all manner of old Rubbi&longs;h, and any thing
apt to moulder. There are al&longs;o other Sorts
of Foundations; one belongs to Porticoes,
and all other Places where Rows of Columns
are to be &longs;et; the other to Maritime Places,
where we cannot pick and chu&longs;e the Good
ne&longs;s of our Bottom as we could wi&longs;h. Of
the Maritime we will con&longs;ider when we come
to treat of making of Ports, and running Moles
out into the Sea; becau&longs;e the&longs;e do not relate
to the general Work of all manner of Build
ings, which is the Subject of our Di&longs;cour&longs;e here,
but only to one particular Part of the City,
which we &longs;hall treat of together with other
Things of the like Nature, when we give an
Account of all Publick Works, Member by
Member. In laying Foundations under Rows
of Columns, there is no Occa&longs;ion to draw an
even continued Line of Work all the Way
&longs;trengthen the Places you intend for the Seats
or Beds of your Columns, and then from one
to the other draw Arches with their Backs
downwards, &longs;o that the Plane or Level of the
Area will be the Chord of tho&longs;e Arches; as
you may &longs;ee by the Plate of the Page 41. let
B. For &longs;tanding thus, they will be le&longs;s apt to
force their Way into the Earth in any one
Place, the Weight being counterpos'd and
thrown equally on both Sides on the Props of
the Arches. And how apt Columns are to
drive into the Ground, by means of the great
Pre&longs;&longs;ure of the Weight laid upon them, is
manife&longs;t from that Corner of the noble Tem
ple of
We&longs;t. For being de&longs;irous to leave the publick
Way, which was interrupted by that Angle, a
free and open Pa&longs;&longs;age underneath, they broke
the Area of their Platform and turn'd an Arch
again&longs;t the Wall, leaving that Corner as a Sort
of Plai&longs;ter on the other Side of the Pa&longs;&longs;age,
and fortifying it, as well as po&longs;&longs;ible, with &longs;tout
Work, and with the A&longs;&longs;i&longs;tance of a Buttre&longs;s. Yet this at la&longs;t, by the va&longs;t Weight of &longs;o great
a Building, and the giving Way of the Earth,
became ruinous. But let this &longs;uffice upon this
Head.
CHAP. VI.
Top; the Difference between the Wall and the Foundation; the principal
Parts of the Wall; the three Methods of Walling; the Materials and
Form of the fir&longs;t Cour&longs;e or Layer.
The Foundations being laid, we come
next to the Wall. But I will not omit
here a Precaution which belongs as well to the
Compleating of the Foundation as to the
Structure of the Wall. In large Buildings,
where the Wall is to be very thick, we ought
to leave Vents and Tunnels in the Body of the
Wall, at moderate Di&longs;tances one from the other,
from the Foundation quite to the Top, through
which any Vapour or Damp that may happen
to engender or gather under Ground may have
free Pa&longs;&longs;age without damaging the Work. The
Ancients in &longs;ome of the&longs;e Vents were u&longs;ed to
make winding Stairs, as well for the Sake of the
Beauty of the Contrivance it&longs;elf, as for the
Convenience of pa&longs;&longs;ing up to the Top of the
Edifice, and perhaps too for the Saving of &longs;ome
Expence. But to return to our Subject; be
tween the Foundation and the naked Wall there
is this Difference, that the former having the
Support of the Sides of the Trench, may be made
of nothing but Rubbi&longs;h, whereas the Latter con
&longs;i&longs;ts of Variety of Parts, as we &longs;hall hereafter
&longs;hew. The principal Parts of the Wall are
the&longs;e; fir&longs;t, the bottom Part, which begins
immediately from the Level of the Foundati
ons; this we call the fir&longs;t Cour&longs;e laid upon the
Level, or the Cour&longs;e ri&longs;ing from the Ground:
The middle Parts, which girt and &longs;urround
the Wall, we &longs;hall call the &longs;econd Cour&longs;e: The
highe&longs;t Parts, la&longs;tly, that is to &longs;ay, tho&longs;e which
&longs;upport the top Roof, we call Cornices. Some
of the principal Parts or rather the prin
cipal Parts of all are the Corners of the
Wall, and the Pila&longs;ters, or Columns, or any
thing el&longs;e in their &longs;tead &longs;et in the Wall to &longs;up
port the Beams and Arches of the Covering;
all which are comprized under the Name of
Bones or Ribs. Likewi&longs;e the Jambs on each
Side of all Openings partake of the Nature both
of Corners and of Columns. Moreover, the
Coverings of Openings, that is to &longs;ay, the Lin
tels or Tran&longs;oms, whether &longs;trait or arched, are
al&longs;o reckoned among the Bones. And indeed
I take an Arch to be nothing more than a Beam
bent, and the Beam or Tran&longs;om to be only a
Column laid cro&longs;&longs;ways. Tho&longs;e Parts which
interfere or lie between the&longs;e principal Parts,
are very properly called Fillers up. There are
&longs;ome Things throughout the whole Wall
which agree each with &longs;ome one of the Parts
we have here &longs;poken of; that is to &longs;ay, the fill
ing up or cramming of the Middle of the Wall,
and the two Barks or Shells of each Side,
whereof that without is to bear the Sun and
Weather, and that within is to give Shade and
Shelter to the In&longs;ide of the Platform. The
Rules for the&longs;e Shells and for their &longs;tuffing are
various, according to the Variety of Structures. The different Sorts of Structures are the&longs;e; the
ordinary Sort, the chequer Sort and the Irregu
lar: And here it may not be ami&longs;s to take
u&longs;ed to build their Country Hou&longs;es of Stone,
but the
Brick unbaked, the
tle Stones mixed together. But of the&longs;e we
&longs;hall &longs;peak el&longs;ewhere. The ordinary Sort of
Structure, is that in which &longs;quared Stones,
either the middling or rather the large Sort, are
placed with their Fronts exactly an&longs;wering to
the &longs;quare level and plumb Line; which is the
&longs;tronge&longs;t and mo&longs;t la&longs;ting Way of all. The
chequered Way is when &longs;quared Stones, either
the middle &longs;ized, or rather very &longs;mall ones, are
placed not on their Sides, but on their Corners,
and lie with their Fronts an&longs;wering to the
&longs;quare and plumb Line. The irregular Way
is where ordinary rough Stones are placed with
their Sides an&longs;wering, as well as the Inequality
of their Forms will permit, one to the other;
and this is the Method u&longs;ed in the Pavement
of the publick Ways. But the&longs;e Methods mu&longs;t
be u&longs;ed differently in different Places; for in
the Ba&longs;es, or fir&longs;t Cour&longs;e above the Ground, we
mu&longs;t make our Shell of nothing but very large
and very hard &longs;quare Stones; for as we ought
to make the whole Wall as firm and entire as
po&longs;&longs;ible, &longs;o there is no Part of it that requires
more Strength and Soundne&longs;s than this; in&longs;o
much that if it were po&longs;&longs;ible for you to make
it all of one &longs;ingle Stone you &longs;hould do it, or
at lea&longs;t make it only of &longs;uch a Number as may
come as near as may be to the Firmne&longs;s and
Durablene&longs;s of one &longs;ingle Stone. How the&longs;e
great Stones are to be mov'd and manag'd,
belonging properly to the Article of Ornaments,
we &longs;hall con&longs;ider of it in another Place.
RAISE your Wall &longs;ays
and good Mortar to at lea&longs;t a Foot high above
the Ground, and it matters not if you build
the re&longs;t even of Brick unbak'd. His Rea&longs;on
for this Admonition is plainly becau&longs;e the Rain
Water falling from the Roof might not rot
this Part of the Wall. But when we examine
the Works of the Ancients, and find that not
only in our own Country the lower Parts of
all good Buildings are compos'd of the harde&longs;t
Stone, but that even among tho&longs;e Nations
which are under no Apprehen&longs;ions from Rain,
as in
their Pyramids of a black Stone of an extreme
Hardne&longs;s; we are obliged to look more nearly
into this Matter. We &longs;hould therefore con
&longs;ider that as Iron, Bra&longs;s, and the like hard
Metals, if bent &longs;everal Times fir&longs;t this way
and then that, will at la&longs;t crack and break; &longs;o
other Bodies, if wearied with a repeated Change
of Injuries, will &longs;poil and corruptinconceivably;
which is what I have ob&longs;erved in Bridges,
e&longs;pecially of Wood: Tho&longs;e Parts of them
which &longs;tand all the Changes of Weather, &longs;ome
times burnt with the Rays of the Sun, and
&longs;harp Bla&longs;ts of Wind, at other Times &longs;oak'd
with Night-dews or Rains, very &longs;oon decay
and are quite eaten away by the Worms. The
&longs;ame holds good of tho&longs;e Parts of the Wall
which are near to the Ground, which by theal
ternate injuries of Du&longs;t and Wet are very apt to
moulder and rot. I therefore lay it down as an
indi&longs;pen&longs;ible Rule, that all the fir&longs;t Cour&longs;e of
Work from the Level, &longs;hould be compos'd of
the harde&longs;t, &longs;ounde&longs;t, and large&longs;t Stones, to
&longs;ecure it again&longs;t the frequent A&longs;&longs;aults of con
trary Injuries: Which Stone is harde&longs;t and be&longs;t,
we have &longs;hewn &longs;ufficiently in the Second Book.
CHAP. VII.
al&longs;o, which are the Stronge&longs;t and which the Weake&longs;t.
It is certainly of very great Con&longs;equence in
what Manner we di&longs;po&longs;e and join our
Stone in the Work, either in this or any other
Part; for as in Wood &longs;o al&longs;o in Stone, there
are Veins and Knots, and other Parts, of
which &longs;ome are weaker than others, in&longs;omuch
that Marble it&longs;elf will warp and &longs;plit. There
is in Stones a Kind of Impo&longs;tumes, or Collections
of putrid Matter, which in Time &longs;well and
grow, by means, as I &longs;uppo&longs;e of the Humidity
of the Air, which they &longs;uck in and imbibe
which breeds larger Pu&longs;tules, and eats away
the Building. For be&longs;ides what we have
already &longs;aid of Stones in their proper Place, it
is nece&longs;&longs;ary to con&longs;ider here that they are
created by Nature, lying flat as we &longs;ee them
in the Ground, of a liquid and fluxible Sub
&longs;tance, which, as we are told, when it is af
terwards harden'd and grown, re&longs;erves in the
Ma&longs;s the original Figure of its Parts. Hence
a more &longs;olid and weighty Con&longs;i&longs;tence than the
Upper, and that they interrupted with Veins,
ju&longs;t according as their Sub&longs;tances happened to
unite and conglutinate. That Matter which is
found within the Veins, whether it be the Scum
of the fir&longs;t congealed Sub&longs;tance mix'd with the
Dregs of the adventitious Matter, or whatever
el&longs;e it be, as it is plainly of &longs;o different a Con
&longs;i&longs;tence, that Nature will not permit it to
unite with the re&longs;t, it is no Wonder that it is
the Part in Stone which is apt to crack. And
indeed, as Experience teaches us, the Deva
&longs;tations of Time too evidently demon&longs;trate,
without &longs;earching into Cau&longs;es more remote,
that all vegetative and compound Bodies con
&longs;ume and decay; &longs;o in Stones, the Parts ex
pos'd to the Weather are &longs;oone&longs;t rotted. This
being the Ca&longs;e, we are advi&longs;ed in Placing our
Stone to &longs;et tho&longs;e Parts of it which are the
&longs;tronge&longs;t, and lea&longs;t apt to putrify, again&longs;t the
Violence of the alternate Injuries of the Wea
ther, e&longs;pecially in tho&longs;e Parts of the Building
where mo&longs;t Strength is requir'd. For this Rea
&longs;on we &longs;hould not &longs;et the Veins upright, le&longs;t
the Weather &longs;hould make the Stone crack and
&longs;cale off; but they &longs;hould be laid flat down
wards that the Pre&longs;&longs;ure of the incumbant
Weight may hinder them from opening. The
Side which in the Quarry lay mo&longs;t hid, &longs;hould
be placed again&longs;t the Air; becau&longs;e it is always
the &longs;tronge&longs;t and mo&longs;t unctious. But of all
Stone, none will prove &longs;o hardy as that which
has its Veins not running in parellel Lines with
tho&longs;e of the Quarry, but cro&longs;&longs;way and directly
tran&longs;ver&longs;e. Moreover the Corners throughout
the whole Building, as they require the
greate&longs;t Degree of Strength, ought to be par
ticularly well fortify'd; and, if I mi&longs;take not,
each Corner is in effect the half of the whole
Structure; for if one of them happens to fail,
it occa&longs;ions the Ruin of both the Sides to
which it an&longs;wers. And if you will take the
Pains to examine, I dare &longs;ay you will find that
hardly any Building ever begins to decay, but
by the Fault of one of its Corners. It there
fore &longs;hew'd great Di&longs;cretion in the Ancients,
to make their Corners much thicker than the
re&longs;t of the Wall, and in Porticoes of Columns
to &longs;trengthen their Angles in a particular Man
ner. This Strength in the Corners is not re
quired upon Account of its Supporting the
Covering (for that is rather the Bu&longs;ine&longs;s of the
Columns) but only to keep the Wall up to its
Duty, and hinder it from leaning any Way
from its perpendicular. Let the Corners there
fore be of the harde&longs;t and longe&longs;t Stones,
which may embrace both Sides of the Wall, as
it were, like Arms; and let them be full as
broad as the Wall, that there may be no need
to &longs;tuff the Middle with Rubbi&longs;h. It is al&longs;o
nece&longs;&longs;ary, that the Ribs in the Wall and the
Jambs or Sides of the Apertures, &longs;hould be
fortify'd like the Corners, and made &longs;trong in
proportion to the Weight they are de&longs;ign'd to
&longs;upport. And above all we &longs;hould leave Bits,
that is to &longs;ay, Stones left every other Row jut
ting out at the Ends of the Wall, like Teeth,
for the Stones of the other Front of the Wall
to fa&longs;ten and catch into.
CHAP. VIII.
Sorts.
The Parts of the Fini&longs;hing are tho&longs;e
which, as we &longs;aid before, are common
to the whole Wall; that is, the Shell and the
Stuffing; but there are two Shells, one out
ward and the other inward; if you make the
outward of the harde&longs;t Stone you can get, the
Building will be the more durable. And indeed
in all Sorts of Fini&longs;hing, let it be of what
Kind of Work you will, either chequer'd, or
of rough Stones, it is indifferent, provided you
&longs;et again&longs;t the continual mi&longs;chievous Violence
either of Sun, or Wind, or of Fire, or Fro&longs;t,
&longs;uch Stones as are in their Nature be&longs;t fitted
for re&longs;i&longs;ting either Force, Weight, or Injuries;
and we &longs;hould take Care to let our Materials be
particularly Sound where-ever the Rain in its
Fall from the Roof or Gutters is driven by the
Wind again&longs;t the Wall; &longs;ince we often find in
old Buildings, that &longs;uch Sprinklings will rot
and eat into Marble it&longs;elf. Though all prudent
Architects, to provide again&longs;t this Mi&longs;chief,
have taken Care to bring all the Water on the
Roof together into Gutters and Pipes, and &longs;o
carry it clear away. Moreover, the Ancients
always began to fall to the South-&longs;ide &longs;ir&longs;t;
and in Buildings ruinated by Time, I have
taken Notice that they always began to decay
fir&longs;t towards the South. The Rea&longs;on of this
may perhaps be that the Heat and Force of the
Sun lying upon the Work while it was &longs;till
in Hand might exhau&longs;t the Strength of the
Cement; and the Stone it&longs;elf being frequently
moi&longs;ten'd by the South-wind, and then again
dry'd and burnt by the Rays of the Sun,
rots and moulders. Again&longs;t the&longs;e and the like
Injuries therefore, we &longs;hould oppo&longs;e our be&longs;t
and &longs;toute&longs;t Materials. What I think too is
principally to be ob&longs;erv'd, is to let every Row
or Cour&longs;e of Stone throughout the Wall be
even and equally proportion'd, not patch'd up
of great Stones on the right Hand and little
ones on the left; becau&longs;e we are told that the
Wall by the Addition of any new Weight is
&longs;queezed clo&longs;er together, and the Mortar in
drying is hinder'd by this Pre&longs;&longs;ure from taking
due hold, which mu&longs;t of Cour&longs;e make Cracks
and Defects in the Work. But you may be
&longs;afely allow'd to make the inward Shell, and
all the Front of the Wall of that Side, of a
&longs;ofter and weaker Stone; but whatever Shell
you make, whether inward or outward, it
mu&longs;t be always perpendicular, and its Line
exactly even. Its Line mu&longs;t always an&longs;wer
ju&longs;tly to the Line of the Platform, &longs;o as not in
any Part to &longs;well out or &longs;ink in, or to be
wavy, or not exactly plum, and perfectly well
compacted and fini&longs;hed. If you rough.
Ca&longs;t
your Wall as you build it, or while it is fre&longs;h,
whatever Plai&longs;tering or Whitening you do it
over with afterwards will la&longs;t, in a Manner, for
ever. There are two Sorts of Stuffing; the
one is that with which we fill the Hollow that
is left between the two Shells, con&longs;i&longs;ting of
Mortar and broken Fragments of Stone thrown
in together without any Order; the other con
&longs;i&longs;ting of ordinary rough Stone, with which
we may be &longs;aid rather to wall than only to fill
up. Both plainly appears to have been in
vented by good-husbandry, becau&longs;e any &longs;mall
Coar&longs;e Stuff is u&longs;ed in this Kind of Work. But if there was Plenty of large &longs;quare Stone
ea&longs;ily to be had, who I wonder, would choo&longs;e
to make U&longs;e of &longs;mall Fragments? And indeed
herein alone the Ribs of the Wall differ from
what we call the Fini&longs;hing, that between the
two Shells of this latter we &longs;tuff in coar&longs;e Rub
bi&longs;h or broken Pieces that come to Hand;
whereas, in the Former we admit very &longs;ew
or no unequal Stones, but make tho&longs;e Parts of
the Wall quite through, of what we have
call'd the If I were to
choo&longs;e, I would have the Wall throughout
made of nothing but regularCour&longs;es of &longs;quared
Stone, that it might be as la&longs;ting as po&longs;&longs;ible;
but whatever hollow you leave between the
Shells to be filled up with Rubbi&longs;h, you &longs;hould
take Care to let the Cour&longs;es of each Side be
as even as po&longs;&longs;ible and it will be proper be
&longs;ides to lay a good many large Stones, at con
venient Di&longs;tances, that may go quite through
the Wall to both Shells, in order to bind and
gird them together, that the Rubbi&longs;h you
&longs;tuff them with may not bur&longs;t them out. The Ancients made it a Rule in &longs;tuffing their
Walls, not to continue the Stuffing uninterrup
ted to the Heigth of above five Foot, and then
they laid over it a Cour&longs;e of whole Stone. This
fa&longs;ten'd and bound the Wall, as it were, with
Nerves and Ligaments; &longs;o that if any Part of
the Stuffing, either through the Fault of the
Workman, or by Accident, happen'd to &longs;ink,
it could not pull every Thing el&longs;e along with
it, but the Weight above had in a Manner
a new Ba&longs;is to re&longs;t upon. La&longs;tly, we are
taught what I find con&longs;tantly ob&longs;erved
among the Ancients, never to admit any Stone
among our Stuffing that weighs above a Pound,
becau&longs;e they &longs;uppo&longs;e that &longs;mall ones unite
more ea&longs;ily, and knit bettter with the Cement
than large ones.
IT is not altogether foreign to our Pur
po&longs;e, what we read in
that he divided the Plebeans into &longs;everal Cla&longs;
&longs;es, according to their &longs;everal Profe&longs;&longs;ions, upon
this Principle, that the &longs;maller the Parts are
a Body is &longs;plit into, the more ea&longs;ily it may
be governed and managed. It is al&longs;o of no
little Con&longs;equence to have the Hollow com
pletly fill'd up, and every the lea&longs;t Crevice
clo&longs;e &longs;topt, not only upon the Account of
Strength, but likewi&longs;e to hinder any Animals
from getting in and making their Ne&longs;ts there,
and to prevent the Gathering of Dirt and
Seeds, which might make Weeds grow in the
Wall. It is almo&longs;t incredible what huge
Weights of Stone, and what va&longs;t Piles I have
known moved and opened by the &longs;ingle Root
of one Plant. You mu&longs;t take Care therefore
to let your whole Structure be girt and fill'd
compleatly.
CHAP. IX.
and how to unite &longs;everal Stones for the &longs;trengthening of the Wall.
A mong the Girders we reckon tho&longs;e Cour
&longs;es of large Stone which tie the out
ward Shell to the Inward, and which bind the
Ribs one into the other, &longs;uch as are tho&longs;e
which we &longs;aid in the la&longs;t Chapter ought to be
made every five Foot. But there are other
Girders be&longs;ides, and tho&longs;e principal ones,
which run the whole Length of the Wall to
embrace the Corners and &longs;trengthen the whole
Work: But the&longs;e latter are not &longs;o frequent,
and I do not remember ever to have &longs;een
above two, or at mo&longs;t three in one Wall. Their Place is the Summit of the Wall, to be
as it were a Crown to the Whole, and to per
form the &longs;ame Service at the Top which the
other more frequent Girders at the Di&longs;tance
of every five Foot do in the Middle, where
&longs;maller Stones are allow'd; but in the&longs;e other
Girders, which we call Cornices, as they are
fewer and of more Importance, &longs;o much the
larger and the &longs;tronger Stones they require. In
both according to their different Offices, the
be&longs;t, the longe&longs;t, and the thicke&longs;t Stones are
nece&longs;&longs;ary. The &longs;maller Girders are made to
an&longs;wer to the Rule and Plum-line with the
re&longs;t of the Shell of the Wall: but the&longs;e great
ones, like a Crown, project &longs;omewhat forwards. The&longs;e long, thick Stones mu&longs;t be laid exactly
plum, and be well link'd with the under
Cour&longs;es, &longs;o as to make a Kind of Pavement
at Top to &longs;hadow and protect the Sub&longs;truc
ture. The Way of placing the&longs;e Stones one
upon the other, is to let the Middle of the
Stone above an&longs;wer exactly to the Juncture of
the two in the Cour&longs;e below, &longs;o that its Weight
is equally pois'd upon them both; as (A.)
Which way of Working, as it ought not in
deed to be neglected in any Part of the Wall,
ought to be particularly followed in the Gir
ders. I have ob&longs;erved that the Ancients in
their checquer'd Works u&longs;ed to make their
Girders of five Cour&longs;es of Bricks, or at lea&longs;t of
three, and that all of them, or at lea&longs;t one
Cour&longs;e was of Stone, not thicker than the re&longs;t,
but longer and broader; as (B.) But in their
ordinary Sort of Brick-work, I find they were
content for Girders to make at every five Foot
a Cour&longs;e of Bricks two Foot thick as (C)
I KNOW &longs;ome too have inter&longs;pers'd Plates or
Cramps of Lead of a con&longs;iderable Length,
and as broad as the Wall was thick, in order
to bind the Work. But when they built with
very large Stone, I find they were contented
with fewer Girders, or even only with the
Cornices. In making the Cornices, which are
to girt in the Wall with the &longs;tronge&longs;t Liga
ture, we ought to neglect none of the Rules
which we have laid down about the Girders;
namely, we &longs;hould u&longs;e in them none but the
longe&longs;t, thicke&longs;t, and &longs;tronge&longs;t Stones, which
we &longs;hould put together in the mo&longs;t exact and
regular Order, each laid nicely even and level
by the Square and Plum-line. And we ought
to be more diligent and careful in this Part of
the Work, becau&longs;e it is to gird in the Whole
Wall, which is more apt to ruinate in this Part
than in any other. The Covering too has its
Office with relation to the Wall; whence it
is laid down as a Rule, that to a Wall of crude
Bricks we are to make a Cornice of baked
ones, to the Intent that if any Water &longs;hould
chance to fall from the End of the Covering,
or from the Gutters, it may be it may do no
Mi&longs;chief, but that the Wall may be defended
by the Projecting of the Cornice. For which
Rea&longs;on we ought to take Care that every Part
of the Wall have a Cornice over it for a
Covering to it, which ought to be firmly
wrought and well &longs;tucco'd over to repel all the
Injuries of the Weather. We are here again
to con&longs;ider in what Manner we are to unite
and con&longs;olidate a Number of &longs;eperate Stones
into one Body of Wall; and the principal
Thing that offers it&longs;elf to our Thoughts as
nece&longs;&longs;ary, is good Lime; though I do not
take it to be the proper Cement for every Sort
of Stone: Marble, for In&longs;tance, if touch'd
with Lime, will not only loo&longs;e its Whitene&longs;s,
but will contract foul bloody Spots. But Mar
ble, is &longs;o delicate and &longs;o coy of its Whitene&longs;s,
that it will hardly bear the Touch of any
Thing but it&longs;elf; it di&longs;dains Smoke; &longs;mear'd
Wine, it turns of a dirty brown; with Water,
kept &longs;ome time in Che&longs;&longs;nut-wood, it changes
quite thro' to black, and is &longs;o totally &longs;tain'd,
that no &longs;craping will fetch out the Spots. For
this Rea&longs;on the Ancients u&longs;ed Marble in their
Works naked, and if po&longs;&longs;ible without the
lea&longs;t Mortar: But of the&longs;e hereafter.
CHAP. X.
tween Stone and Sand.
Now as it is the Bu&longs;ine&longs;s of an expert
Workman, not &longs;o much to make
Choice of the fitte&longs;t Materials, as to put tho&longs;e
which he is &longs;upplied with to the be&longs;t and
propere&longs;t U&longs;es; we will proceed on our Sub
ject in this Manner. Lime is well burnt, when
after it has been water'd, and the Heat gone
out of it, it ri&longs;es up like the Froth of Milk,
and &longs;wells all the Clods. Its not having been
long enough &longs;oak'd you may know by the little
Stones you will find in it when you mix the
Sand with it. If you put too much Sand to it,
it will be too &longs;harp to cement well; if you
put le&longs;s than its Nature and Strength requires,
it will be as &longs;tiff as Glue, and is not to be
managed. Such as is not thoroughly &longs;oak'd,
or that is weaker upon any other Account,
may be u&longs;ed with le&longs;s Danger in the Foundation
than in the Wall, and in the Stuffing than in
Shells. But the Corners, the Ribs, and the
Band-&longs;tones mu&longs;t be entirely free from Mortar
that has the lea&longs;t Defect; and Arches e&longs;peci
ally require the very be&longs;t of all. The Corners,
and Ribs, and the Band-&longs;tones, and Cornices
require the fine&longs;t, &longs;malle&longs;t and cleare&longs;t Sand,
particularly when they are built of poli&longs;hed
Stone. The Stuffing may be done with
coar&longs;er Stone.
STONE in its Nature dry and thir&longs;ty, agrees
not ill with River-&longs;and. Stone in its Nature
moi&longs;t and watery, delights in Pit-&longs;and. I
would not have Sea-&longs;and u&longs;ed towards the
South; it may perhaps do better again&longs;t the
Northern Winds. For &longs;mall Stones, a thick
lean Mortar is be&longs;t; to a dry exhau&longs;ted Stone,
we &longs;hould u&longs;e a fat Sort; though the Ancients
were of Opinion that in all Parts of the Walls
the fatti&longs;h Sort is more tenacious than the lean. Great Stones they always lay upon a very &longs;oft
fluid Mortar, &longs;o that it rather &longs;eems de&longs;ign'd
to lubricate and make the Bed they are laid
upon &longs;lippery, to the Intent, that while they
are fixing in their Places they may be ea&longs;y to
move with the Hand, then to cement and
fa&longs;ten them together. But it is certainly proper
to lay a &longs;oft Stuff underneath in this Manner,
like a Pillow, to prevent the Stones, which
have a great Weight lying upon them, from
breaking. There are &longs;ome, who ob&longs;erving
here and there in the Works of the Ancients,
large Stones, which where they join &longs;eem
dawb'd over with red Earth, imagine that the
Ancients u&longs;ed that in&longs;tead of Mortar. I do
not think this probable, becau&longs;e we never find
both Sides, but only one of them, &longs;mear'd
with this Sort of Stuff. There are &longs;ome other
Rules concerning the Working of our Walls,
not to be neglected. We ought never to fall
upon our Work with a violent Ha&longs;te, heaping
one Stone upon another, in a Kind tumul
tuousHurry, without the lea&longs;t Re&longs;pite: Neither
ought we, after we have began to build, to
delay it with a &longs;luggi&longs;h Heavine&longs;s, as if we had
no Stomach to what we are about; but we
ought to follow our Work with &longs;uch a rea&longs;on
able Di&longs;patch, that Speed and Con&longs;ideration
may appear to go Hand in Hand together. Experienced Workmen forewarn us again&longs;t
rai&longs;ing the Structure too high, before what we
have already done is thoroughly &longs;ettled; be
cau&longs;e the Work, while it is fre&longs;h and &longs;oft, is
too weak and pliable to bear a Super&longs;tructure. We may take Example from the Swallows,
taught by Nature, which when they build
their Ne&longs;ts, fir&longs;t dawb or glue over the Beams
which are to be the Foundation and Ba&longs;is of
their Edifice, and then are not too ha&longs;ty to
lay the &longs;econd dawbing over this, but inter
mit the Work till the fir&longs;t is &longs;ufficiently dry'd;
after which they continue their Building rea&longs;on
ably and properly. They &longs;ay the Mortar has
taken &longs;ufficient hold when it puts forth a Kind
of Mo&longs;s or little Flower well known to Ma&longs;ons. At what Di&longs;tances it is proper to re&longs;pite the
we may gather from the Thickne&longs;s of the
Wall it&longs;elf, and from the Temperature of the
PLATE 6.
PLATE 7.
When you think
it Time for a Re&longs;pite, cover the Top of the
Wall over with Straw, that the Wind and Sun
may not exhau&longs;t the Strength of the Cement,
and make it rather u&longs;ele&longs;s than dry and binding. When you re&longs;ume your Work, pour a con
&longs;iderable Quantity of clean Water upon it,
till it is thoroughly &longs;oak'd and wa&longs;h'd from
all Manner of Dirt, that no Seeds may be left
to engender Weeds. There is nothing that
makes the Work &longs;tronger and more durable
than moi&longs;tening the Stone &longs;ufficiently with
Water; and they &longs;ay the Stone is never
&longs;oak'd as it &longs;hould be, if upon breaking, the
In&longs;ide all through is not moi&longs;t and turned black. Add to what has been &longs;aid, that in erecting
our Wall we ought, in &longs;uch Places where it
is po&longs;&longs;ible new Openings may afterwards be
wanting either for Conveniency or Plea&longs;ure, to
turn Arches in the Wall, that if you after
wards take out any of the Work from beneath
tho&longs;e Arches, for the afore&longs;aid Purpo&longs;es, the
Wall may have a good Arch, built at the
&longs;ame Time with it&longs;elf, to re&longs;t upon. It is
hardly to be conceiv'd how much the Strength
of a Building is impair'd only by taking out
one &longs;ingle Stone, be it ever &longs;o little; and
there is no &longs;uch Thing as &longs;etting a new Struc
ture upon an old one, but that they will open
and part one from the other; and how much
&longs;uch a Crack mu&longs;t di&longs;po&longs;e the Wall to ruin,
need not be mention'd. A very thick Wall
has no need of Scaffolding, becau&longs;e it is broad
enough for the Ma&longs;on to &longs;tand upon the Wall
it&longs;elf.
CHAP. XI.
and how to pre&longs;erve them; the mo&longs;t ancient In&longs;tructions of Architects; and
&longs;ome Methods to prevent the Mi&longs;chiefs of Lightening.
We have treated of the be&longs;t Manner of
Building, what Stone we are to
choo&longs;e, and how we are to prepare our Mor
tar: But as we &longs;hall &longs;ometimes be obliged to
make u&longs;e of other Sorts of Stone, whereof &longs;ome
are not cemented with Mortar, but only with
Slime; and others which are join'd without
any Cement at all: And there are al&longs;o Buildings
con&longs;i&longs;ting only of Stuffing, or rough Work,
and others again only of the Shells; of all
the&longs;e we &longs;hall &longs;ay &longs;omething as briefly as
po&longs;&longs;ible. Stones that are to be cemented with
Slime, ought to be &longs;quared, and very arid; and
nothing is more proper for this than Bricks,
either burnt, or rather crude, but very well
dried. A Building made of crude Bricks is
extremely healthy to the Inhabitants, very
&longs;ecure again&longs;t Fire, and but little affected by
Earthquakes; But then if it is not of a good
Thickne&longs;s, it will not &longs;upport the Roof; for
which Rea&longs;on
Pila&longs;ters of Stone to perform that Office. Some
tell us, that the Slime which is u&longs;ed for
Cement ought to be like Pitch, and that the
be&longs;t is that which being &longs;teep'd in Water is
&longs;lowe&longs;t in di&longs;&longs;olving, and will not ea&longs;ily rub
off from one's Hand, and which conden&longs;es
mo&longs;t in drying. Others commend the Sandy
as be&longs;t, becau&longs;e it is mo&longs;t tractable. This Sort
of Work ought to be cloathed with a Cru&longs;t of
Mortar on the Out&longs;ide, and within, if you think
fit, with Plai&longs;ter of And for the better Sticking the&longs;e on, you mu&longs;t
in Building your Wall, &longs;et little Pieces of Tile
here and there in the Cracks of the Joining,
jutting out like Teeth, for the Plai&longs;ter to
cleave to. When the Structure is to be com
po&longs;ed of naked Stones, they ought to be
&longs;quared and much bigger than the other,
and very &longs;ound and &longs;trong; and in this Sort
of Work we allow of no &longs;tuffing; the Cour&longs;es
mu&longs;t be regular and even, the Junctures con
trived with frequent Ligatures of Cramps and
Pins. Cramps are what fa&longs;ten together with
two Stones &longs;ideways that lie even with one
another, and unite them into a Row: Pins
are fix'd into an upper Stone and an under one,
to prevent the Row from being by any Violence
driven out from the re&longs;t. Cramps and Pins
of Iron are not reckoned ami&longs;s; but I have
ob&longs;erved in the Works of the Ancients, that
Iron ru&longs;ts, and will not la&longs;t; But Bra&longs;s will
almo&longs;t endure for ever. Be&longs;ides, I find that
Marble is tainted by the Ru&longs;t of the Iron, and
breaks all round it. We likewi&longs;e meet with
Cramps made of Wood in very ancientStructures;
tho&longs;e of Iron. The Cramps of Bra&longs;s and Iron
are &longs;a&longs;tened in with Lead: But tho&longs;e of Wood
are &longs;ufficiently &longs;ecured by their Shape, which
is made in &longs;uch Manner, that for Re&longs;emblance,
they are called Swallow, or Dove-tailed. The
Cramps mu&longs;t be &longs;o placed that no Drops of
Rain may penetrate to them; and it is
Thought that the Bra&longs;s ones are yet more
&longs;trengthened again&longs;t old Age, if in Ca&longs;ting
they are mixed with one thirtieth Part of Tin:
They will be le&longs;s liable to ru&longs;t if they are
anointed with Pitch, or Oil. It is affirmed
that Iron may be &longs;o tempered by White-lead,
Plai&longs;ter, and Liquid Pitch, as not to ru&longs;t. Wooden Cramps done over with Maiden-wax
and Lees of Oil, will never rot. I have
known them pour &longs;o much Lead upon Cramps,
and that &longs;o boyling Hot, that it has bur&longs;t the
Stones. In ancient Structures we often meet
with very &longs;trong Walls made of nothing but
Rubbi&longs;h and broken Stuff; the&longs;e are built like
the Mud-Walls common in
by fa&longs;tening on each Side Planks or Hurdles,
in&longs;tead of Shells, to keep the Stuff together till
it is dry and &longs;ettled: But herein they differ,
that the Ancients filled up their Work with
Mortar liquid, and in a Manner floating;
whereas, the other only took a clammy Sort
of Earth which they trod and rammed with
their Feet, and with Beetles, after having fir&longs;t
made it tractable by thorough wetting and
kneading. The Ancients al&longs;o in tho&longs;e rough
Works of theirs, at the Di&longs;tance of every three
Foot made a Kind of Band of Pieces of large
Stone, e&longs;pecially of the ordinary Sort, or at
lea&longs;t angular; becau&longs;e round Stones, though
they are very hardy again&longs;t all Sorts of Injuries,
yet if they are not &longs;urrounded with &longs;trong Sup
ports, are very unfaithful in any Wall. In
the&longs;e other Works, that is to &longs;ay, in the
Buildings of Earth, they mixed with their Clay
the
made a Stuff admirably good for Working,
and which remained unhurt either by Wind or
Weather. In
&longs;een upon the Ridges of Mountains &longs;everal
little Towers for viewing the Country built of
Earth, which had endured quite from the Days
of We make this Sort of Cru&longs;t
(which is a fitter Name for it than Shell) with
Hurdles and Mats, made of Reeds not fre&longs;h
gathered; a Work indeed not very magni
ficent, but generally u&longs;ed by the Old
Romans. They rough Ca&longs;t the Hurdles over
with Clay, beat up for three Days running
with the Reeds, and then (as we &longs;aid before)
cloath it with Mortar, or Plai&longs;ter of
which they afterwards adorn with Painting
and Statues. If you mix your Plai&longs;ter up with
a third Part of broken Tile, or Brick pounded,
it will be the le&longs;s injured by wet: If you mix
it with Lime, it will be the Stronger: But in
damp Places, or &longs;uch as are expo&longs;ed to Cold and
Fro&longs;t, Plai&longs;ter of I will now, by Way of Epilogue, give you a
Law of very great Antiquity among Arch
itects, which in my Opinion ought no le&longs;s to
be ob&longs;erved than the An&longs;wers of Oracles: And
it is this. Make your Foundation as &longs;trong as
po&longs;&longs;ible: Let the Super&longs;tructure lie exactly
plum to its Centre: Fortify the Corners and
Ribs of the Wall from the Bottom to the Top
with the large&longs;t and the &longs;tronge&longs;t Stones: Soak
your Lime well: Do not u&longs;e your Stone till
it is thoroughly watered: Set the harde&longs;t Sort
to that Side which is mo&longs;t expo&longs;ed to Injuries:
Rai&longs;e your Wall exactly by the Square, Level
and Plum-line: Let the Middle of the upper
Stone lie directly upon the Meeting of the two
below it: Lay the entire Stones in the Cour&longs;es,
and fill up the Middle with the broken Pieces:
Bind the inward and out&longs;ide Shells to one
another by frequent Cro&longs;s or Band-&longs;tones. Let
this &longs;uffice with Relation to the Wall; we
come now to the Covering. But I will not
pa&longs;s over one Thing which I find the Ancients
ob&longs;erved very religiou&longs;ly. There are &longs;ome
Things in Nature which are endued with
Properties by no means to be neglected; par
ticularly, that the Lawrel-tree, the Eagle, and
the Sea-calf, are never to be touched by
Lightening. There are &longs;ome therefore who
&longs;uppo&longs;e that if the&longs;e are inclo&longs;ed in the Wall,
the Lightening will never hurt it. This I take
to be ju&longs;t as probable as another wonderful
Thing which we are told, that the Land-toad,
or Rudduck, if &longs;hut up in an earthen Pot,
and burned in a Field, will drive away the
Birds from devouring the Seeds; and that the
Tree
will ob&longs;truct a Woman's Delivery; and that
the Leaves of the Lesbian Oemony kept but
under the Roof, will give a Flux of the Belly
and an Evacuation that will certainly prove
Mortal. Let us now return to our Subject,
for the better under&longs;tanding of which, it will
be proper to look back to what we have
formerly &longs;aid of the Lines of Building
CHAP. XII.
the Ribs.
Of Coverings, &longs;ome are to the open Air,
and &longs;ome are within; &longs;ome con&longs;i&longs;t of
&longs;trait Lines, others of curve, and &longs;ome of both:
We may add, not improperly, that &longs;ome are
of Wood, and &longs;ome of Stone. We will fir&longs;t,
according to our Cu&longs;tom, mention one Ob&longs;er
vation which relates in general to all Sorts of
Coverings; which is this: That all manner of
Roofs, or Coverings have their Ribs, Nerves,
Fini&longs;hings, and Shells, or Cru&longs;ts, ju&longs;t the &longs;ame
as the Wall: Which will appear from the
Con&longs;ideration of the Thing it&longs;elf. To begin
with tho&longs;e of Wood, and con&longs;i&longs;ting of &longs;trait
Lines; it is nece&longs;&longs;ary for &longs;upporting the Cover
to lay very &longs;trong Beams acro&longs;s from one Wall
to the other; which, as we took Notice be
fore, are Columns laid tran&longs;ver&longs;e: The&longs;e
Beams therefore, are a Sort of Ribs; and if
it were not for the Expences, who would not
wi&longs;h to have the whole Building con&longs;i&longs;t, if we
may u&longs;e the Expre&longs;&longs;ion, of nothing but Ribs
and &longs;olid Work; that is to &longs;ay, of continued
Columns and Beams clo&longs;e compacted? but we
here con&longs;ult Oeconomy, and &longs;uppo&longs;e every
Thing to be &longs;uperfluous, that without Pre
judice to the Strength of the Work, may be
po&longs;&longs;ibly retrenched; and for this Rea&longs;on, we
leave Spaces between the Beams. Between
the&longs;e we lay the Cro&longs;s-beams, Rafters, and the
like; which may not at all improperly be
reckoned the Ligatures: To the&longs;e we fit and
joyn Boards and Planks of greater Breadth,
which there is no Rea&longs;on why we &longs;hould not
call theFini&longs;hing; and in the &longs;ame Way of think
ing, the Pavement and Tiling is the Outward
Shell, and the Ceiling, or Roof, which is over
our Head the Inward. If this be granted, let
us con&longs;ider whether there is any Thing ne
ce&longs;&longs;ary to be ob&longs;erved with Relation to any of
the&longs;e Parts, that having duly examined it, we
may the more ea&longs;ily under&longs;tand what belongs
to Coverings of Stone. We will &longs;peak of them
therefore as briefly as po&longs;&longs;ible: Fir&longs;t, taking
Notice of one Thing not foreign to our Pur
po&longs;e. There is a very vicious Practice among
our modern Architects; which is, that in
order to make their Ceilings, they leave great
Holes in the very Ribs of the Building to let
the Heads of the Beams into after the Wall is
fini&longs;hed; which not only weakens the Struc
ture, but al&longs;o makes it more expo&longs;ed to Fire;
becau&longs;e by the&longs;e Holes the Flames find a
Pa&longs;&longs;age from one Apartment to another. For
which Rea&longs;on, I like the Method u&longs;ed among
the Ancients, of &longs;etting in the Wall &longs;trong
Tables of Stone called Corbels, upon which
they laid the Heads of their Beams. If you
would bind the Wall, and the Beams together,
you have Bra&longs;s Cramps, and Braces, and
Catches or Notches in the Corbel it&longs;elf, which
will &longs;erve for that Purpo&longs;e. The Beams ought
to be perfectly &longs;ound and clear; and e&longs;peci
ally about the Middle of its Length it ought
to be free from the lea&longs;t Defect, placing your
Ear at one End of it while the other is &longs;truck,
if the Sound come to you dead, and flat, it is
a Sign of &longs;ome private Infirmity. Beams that
have Knots in them are ab&longs;olutely to be re
jected, e&longs;pecially if there are many, or if they
are crouded together in a Clu&longs;ter. The Side
of the Timber that lies neare&longs;t the Heart,
mu&longs;t be planed, and laid uppermo&longs;t in the
Building; but the Part that is to lie under
mo&longs;t, mu&longs;t be planed very &longs;uperficially, only
the Bark, nay, and of that hardly any, or as
little as po&longs;&longs;ible. Which-&longs;oever Side has a
Defect that runs cro&longs;&longs;ways of the Beam, lay
uppermo&longs;t; if there is a Crak longways, ne
&vring;er venture it of the Side, but lay it either
uppermo&longs;t, or rather undermo&longs;t. If you hap
pen to have Occa&longs;ion to bore a Hole in it, or
any Opening, never meddle with the Middle
of its length, nor its lower Superficies. If, as in
Churches, the Beams are to be laid in Couples;
leave a Space of &longs;ome Inches between them,
that they may have Room to exhale, and not
be &longs;poyled by heating one another: And it
will not be ami&longs;s to lay the two Beams of the
&longs;ame Couple different Ways, that both their
Heads may not lie upon the &longs;ame Pillow;
but where one has its Head, the other may
have its Foot: For by this Means the Strength
of the one's Foot will a&longs;&longs;i&longs;t the Weakne&longs;s
of the other's Head; and &longs;o The
that is, they &longs;hould be of the &longs;ame Kind of
Timber, and rai&longs;ed in the &longs;ame Wood, ex
po&longs;ed if po&longs;&longs;ible to the &longs;ame Winds, and fell'd
the &longs;ame Day; that being endued with the
&longs;ame natural Strength, they may bear their
Shares equally in the Service. Let the Beds for
the Beams be exactly level, and perfectly firm
and &longs;trong; and in laying them take care
that the Timber does not touch any Lime,
and let it have clear and open Vents all about
it, that it may not be tainted by the Contact
of any other Materials, nor decay by being
too clo&longs;e &longs;hut up. For a Bed for the Beams,
&longs;pread under them either Fern, a very dry
Kind of Herb, or A&longs;hes, or rather Lees of
Oil with the brui&longs;ed Olives. But if your Tim
ber is &longs;o &longs;hort, that you cannot make a Beam
of one Piece, you mu&longs;t join two or more to
gether, in &longs;uch a Manner as to give them the
Strength of an Arch; that is to &longs;ay, &longs;o that
the upper Line of the compacted Beam, can
not po&longs;&longs;ibly by any Pre&longs;&longs;ure become &longs;horter;
and on the contrary, that the lower Line can
not grow longer: And there mu&longs;t be a Sort
of Cord to bind the two Beams together,
which &longs;hove one another with their Heads,
with a &longs;trong Ligature. The Rafters, and all
the re&longs;t of the Wood-work, depend upon the
Goodne&longs;s and Soundne&longs;s of the Beams; being
nothing el&longs;e but Beams &longs;plit. Boards or Planks
are thought to be inconvenient if too thick, be
cau&longs;e whenever they begin to warp they throw
out the Nails; and thin Boards, e&longs;pecially in
Coverings expo&longs;ed to the Air, they &longs;ay, mu&longs;t
be fa&longs;tened with Nails in Pairs, &longs;o as to &longs;e
cure the Corners, the Sides and the Middle. They tell us, that &longs;uch Nails as are to bear any
tran&longs;ver&longs;e Weight, mu&longs;t be made thick; but as
for others, it matters not if they are thinner;
but then they mu&longs;t be longer, and have
broader Heads.
BRASS Nails are mo&longs;t durable in the Air, or
in wet; but I have found the Iron ones to be
&longs;tronger under Cover. For fattening of the
Rafters together, wooden Pins are much u&longs;ed. Whatever we have here &longs;aid of Coverings of
Wood, mu&longs;t be ob&longs;erved al&longs;o with relation to
tho&longs;e of Stone; for &longs;uch Stones as have Veins,
or Faults running cro&longs;&longs;ways, mu&longs;t be rejected
for the making of Beams, and u&longs;ed in Columns;
or if there are any &longs;mall incon&longs;iderable Faults,
the Side of the Stone in which it appears,
when it is u&longs;ed, mu&longs;t be laid downwards,
Veins running longways in Beams of any Sort,
are more excu&longs;able than tran&longs;ver&longs;e ones. Tables, or Scantlings of Stones al&longs;o, as well
for other Rea&longs;ons, as upon Account of their
Weight, mu&longs;t not be made too thick. La&longs;tly,
the Beams, Rafters, and Planks that are u&longs;ed
in Coverings, whether of Wood, or Stone,
mu&longs;t be neither &longs;o thin, nor &longs;o few as not to
be &longs;ufficient for upholding them&longs;elves, and their
Burthens; nor &longs;o thick, or &longs;o crouded as to
take from the Beauty, and Symmetry of the
Work; but tho&longs;e are things we &longs;hall &longs;peak of
el&longs;ewhere. And thus much for Coverings of
&longs;traight Lines; unle&longs;s it may be proper to men
tion one Thing which is in my Opinion tobe neg
lected in no Sort of Structure. The Philo&longs;ophers
have ob&longs;erved, that Nature in forming the Bo
dies of Animals, always takes care to fini&longs;h her
Work in &longs;uch a Manner, that the Bones &longs;hould
all communicate, and never be &longs;eperate one
from the other: So we al&longs;o &longs;hould connect the
Ribs togther, and fa&longs;ten them together well
with Nerves and Ligatures; &longs;o that the Com
munication among the Ribs &longs;hould be &longs;o con
tinued, that if all the re&longs;t of the Structure
failed, the Frame of the Work &longs;hould yet
&longs;tand firm and &longs;trong with all its Parts and
Members.
CHAP. XIII.
&longs;truction, and how to &longs;et the Stones in an Arch.
We come now to &longs;peak of Roofs made
of Curve Lines, and we are fir&longs;t to
con&longs;ider tho&longs;e Particulars wherein they exactly
agree with Coverings of &longs;trait Lines. A curvili
near Roof is compo&longs;ed of Arches; and we have
already &longs;aid that an Arch is nothing but a
Beam bent. We might al&longs;o here mention the
Ligatures, and tho&longs;e Things which mu&longs;t be
u&longs;ed for filling up the Vacuities; but I would
be under&longs;tood more clearly, by explaining
what I take to be the Nature of an Arch, and
of what Parts it con&longs;i&longs;ts.
I SUPPOSE then, that Men learnt at fir&longs;t to turn
Arches from this: They &longs;aw that two Beams
their Feet &longs;et wide, would, if fa&longs;tened at Top,
&longs;tand, very firm, by means of the Equalne&longs;s
of their Weight: They were plea&longs;ed with this
Invention, and began to make their Roofs
in the &longs;ame Manner, to throw off the Rain,
both Ways. Afterwards, perhaps, not being
able to cover a wider Space for want of Beams
long enough, they put between the Heads of
the&longs;e two Beams another cro&longs;&longs;ways at Top,
&longs;o that they made a Figure much like that of
the Greek Letter
they might call a Wedge; and as this &longs;uc
ceeded very well, they multiplyed the Wedges,
and thus made a Kind of Arch, who&longs;e Figure
mightily delighted them. Then transferring
the &longs;ame Method to their Works of Stone, con
tinuing to multiply the Wedges, they made
an entire Arch, which mu&longs;t be allowed to be
nothing el&longs;e but a Conjunction of a Number
of Wedges, whereof &longs;ome &longs;tanding with their
Heads below the Arch, are called the Foot of
the Arch, tho&longs;e in the Middle above, the Key
of the Arch, and tho&longs;e on the Sides, the Turn,
or Ribs of the Arch. It will not be improper
here to repeat what we &longs;aid in the fir&longs;t Book
upon this Subject: There are different Sorts
of Arches, the Entire, is the full half of a
Circle, or that who&longs;e Chord runs through the
Centre of the Circle; there is another which
approaches more to the Nature of a Beam than
of an Arch, which we call the Imperfect, or
dimini&longs;hed Arch, becau&longs;e it is not a compleat
Semi-circle; but a determinate Part le&longs;s,
having its Chord above the Centre, and at
&longs;ome Di&longs;tance from it. There is al&longs;o the
Compo&longs;ite Arch, called by &longs;ome the Angular,
and by others an Arch comp&longs;ed of two Arches
le&longs;s than Semi-circles; and its Chord has the
two Centres of two Curve Lines, which
mutually inter&longs;ect each other. That the Entire
Arch is the Stronge&longs;t of all, appears not only
from Experience, but Rea&longs;on; for I do not
&longs;ee how it can po&longs;&longs;ibly di&longs;unite of it&longs;elf, unle&longs;s
one Wedge &longs;hoves out another, which they are
&longs;o far from doing, that they a&longs;&longs;i&longs;t and &longs;upport
one another. And indeed, if they were to go
about any &longs;uch Violence, they would be pre
vented by the very Nature of Pondero&longs;ity, by
which they are pre&longs;&longs;ed downwards, either by
&longs;ome Super&longs;tructure, or by that which is in the
Wedges them&longs;elves. This makes
that in Arches, the Work on the right Hand
is keptup no le&longs;s by that on the Left, than the
Work on the Left is by that on the Right. And
if we look only into the Thing it&longs;elf; how is
it po&longs;&longs;ible for the middle Wedge at Top, which
is the Key-&longs;tone to the Whole, to thru&longs;t out
either of the two next Side Wedges, or how
can that be driven out of its Place by them? The next Wedges al&longs;o in the Turn of the
Arch, being ju&longs;tly counterpoi&longs;ed, will &longs;urely
&longs;tand to their Duty; and la&longs;tly, how can the
two Wedges under the two Feet of the Arch,
ever be moved while the upper ones &longs;tand firm? Therefore we have no need of a Cord, or Bar
in an entire Arch, becau&longs;e it &longs;upports it&longs;elf
by its own Strength; but in dimini&longs;h'd
Arches there is Occa&longs;ion either for an Iron
Chain or Bar, or for an Exten&longs;ion of Wall on
both Sides, that may have the Effect of a Bar
to &longs;upply the Want of Strength, that there is
in the dimini&longs;h'd Arch, and make it equal to
the Entire. The ancient Architects always
u&longs;e the&longs;e Precautions, and where-ever it was
po&longs;&longs;ible, con&longs;tantly &longs;ecured their dimini&longs;h'd
Arches, by &longs;etting them in a good Body of
Wall. They al&longs;o endeavour'd, if they had an
Opportunity, to turn their imperfect Arches
upon a &longs;trait Beam; and over the&longs;e imperfect
ones, they u&longs;ed to turn entire Arches, which
protected the dimini&longs;hed ones which were
within them, and took upon them&longs;elves the
Burthen of the Super&longs;tructure. As for Com
po&longs;ite Arches, we do not find any of them in
the Buildings of the Ancients; &longs;ome think
them not ami&longs;s for the Apertures in Towers;
becau&longs;e they &longs;uppo&longs;e they will cleave
the great Weight that is laid upon
them, as the Prow of a Ship does the Water,
and that they are rather &longs;trengthened than op
pre&longs;s'd by it.
THE Stones u&longs;ed in Building an Arch,
&longs;hould be every Way the bigge&longs;t that can be
got; becau&longs;e the Parts of any Body that are
united and compacted by Nature, are more
in&longs;eparable than tho&longs;e which are join'd and
cemented by Art. The Stones al&longs;o ought to
be equal on both Sides, as if they were balan
ced with re&longs;pect to their Fronts, Sizes, Weight,
and the like. If you are to make a Portico, and
to draw &longs;everal Arches over continued Aper
tures, from the Capitals of Columns, never let
the Seat from which two or more Arches are
to ri&longs;e, be made of two Pieces, or of as many
as there are to be Arches, but only of one
&longs;ingle Stone, and that as &longs;trong as may be, to
hold together the Feet of all the Arches. The
&longs;econd Stones in the Arch, which ri&longs;e next to
the&longs;e, if they are large Pieces, mu&longs;t be &longs;et
perpendicularly. The third Stone which is
laid upon the&longs;e &longs;econd ones, mu&longs;t be &longs;et
by the Plum-lines, as we directed in rai&longs;ing
the Wall, with even Joinings, &longs;o that they
may &longs;erve both the Arches, and be a Binding
to both their Wedges. Let the Lines of the
Joinings of all the Stones in the Arch point
exactly to the Centre of that Arch.
THE mo&longs;t skillful Workmen always make
the Key-&longs;tone of one &longs;ingle Piece, very large
and &longs;trong; and if the Breadth of the Top is
&longs;o great, that no one Stone will &longs;uffice, it will
then be no longer only an Arch, but a vaul
ted Roof.
CHAP. XIV.
are compo&longs;ed, and the Method of letting them &longs;ettle.
There are &longs;everal Sorts of Vaults; &longs;o
that it is our Bu&longs;ine&longs;s here to enquire
wherein they differ, and of what Lines they
are compo&longs;ed; in doing of which, I &longs;hall be
obliged to invent new Names, to make my&longs;elf
clear and per&longs;picuous, which is what I have
principally &longs;tudied in the&longs;e Books. I know
the mighty Vaults; and
made like the Keel of a Ship, Caverns: But I
claim this Liberty; that whatever in this Work,
is expre&longs;&longs;ed aptly, clearly, and properly, &longs;hall
be allowed to be expre&longs;&longs;ed right. The differ
ent Sorts of Vaults are the&longs;e, the plain Vault,
the Camerated, or mixed Vault, and the he
mi&longs;pherical Vault, or Cupola; be&longs;ides tho&longs;e
others which partake of the Kind of &longs;ome of
the&longs;e. The Cupola in its Nature is never
placed but upon Walls that ri&longs;e from a cir
cular Platform: The Camerated are proper for
a &longs;quare one; the plain Vaults are made over
any quadrangular Platform, whether long or
&longs;hort, as we &longs;ee in all &longs;ubterraneous Porticoes. Tho&longs;e Vaults too which are like a Hill bored
through, we al&longs;o call plain Vaults; the plain
Vault therefore, is like a Number of Arches
join'd together Sideways; or like a bent Beam
extended out in Breadth, &longs;o as to make a Kind
of a Wall turn'd with a Sweep over our
Heads for a Covering. But if &longs;uch a Vault
as this, running from North to South, hap
pens to be cro&longs;s'd by another which runs from
Ea&longs;t to We&longs;t, and inter&longs;ects it with equal
Lines meeting at the Angles like crooked
Horns, this will make a Vault of the Camer
ated Sort. But if a great Number of equal
Arches meet at the Top exactly in the Centre,
they con&longs;titute a Vault like the Sky, which
therefore we call the Hemi&longs;pherical, or com
pleat Cupola. The Vaults made of Part of
the&longs;e, are as follows: If Nature with an even
and perpendicular Section, were to divide the
Hemi&longs;phere of the Heavens in two Parts, from
Ea&longs;t to We&longs;t, it would make two Vaults,
which would be proper Coverings for any
&longs;emi-circular Building. But if from the Angle
at the Ea&longs;t, to that at the South, and from the
South to the We&longs;t, thence to the North, and
&longs;o back again to the Ea&longs;t, if Nature were to
break and interrupt this Hemi&longs;phere by &longs;o
many Arches turn'd from Angle to Angle,
&longs;he would then leave a Vault in the Middle,
which for its Re&longs;emblance to a &longs;welling Sail,
we will venture to call a Velar Cupola. But
that Vault which con&longs;i&longs;ts of a Number of
plain Vaults meeting in a Point at Top, we
&longs;hall call an Angular Cupola.
IN the Con&longs;truction of Vaults, we mu&longs;t
ob&longs;erve the &longs;ame Rules as in that of the Walls,
carrying on the Ribs of the Wall clear up to
the Summit of the Vault; and according to
the Method pre&longs;cribed for the Former, ob&longs;erv
ing the &longs;ame Proportions and Di&longs;tances: From
Rib to Rib, we mu&longs;t draw Ligatures cro&longs;&longs;ways,
and the Inter&longs;paces we mu&longs;t fill up with Stuf
fing. But the Difference between the Work
ing of a Vault and a Wall, lies in this; that
in the Wall the Cour&longs;es of Stone are laid even
and perpendicular by the Square and Plum
line; whereas, in the Vault the Cour&longs;es are
laid by a curve Line, and the Joints all point
to the Centre of their Arch.
THE Ancients hardly ever made their Ribs
of any but burnt Bricks, and tho&longs;e generally
about two Foot long, and advi&longs;e to fill up the
Inter&longs;paces of our Vaults with the lighte&longs;t
Stone, that they might not oppre&longs;s the Wall
with too great a Weight. But I have ob&longs;erved
that &longs;ome have not always thought them&longs;elves
obliged to make continued &longs;olid Ribs, but in
their &longs;tead, have at certain Di&longs;tances, &longs;et Bricks
lying Sideways, with their Heads jointing into
PLATE 8.
locks his right Hand Fingers into his left; and
the Inter&longs;paces they filled up with any common
Stone, and e&longs;pecially with Pumice Stone, which
is univer&longs;ally agreed to be the propere&longs;t of all,
for the &longs;tuffing Work of Vaults. In building
either Arches or Vaults, we mu&longs;t make u&longs;e of
Centres. The&longs;e are a Kind of Frames made
with the Sweep of an Arch of any rough Boards
ju&longs;t clapt together for a &longs;hort Service, and
covered either with Hurdles, Ru&longs;hes, or any
&longs;uch common Stuff, in order to &longs;upport the
Work till it is &longs;ettled and hardened. Yet there
is one &longs;ort of Vault which &longs;tands in no Need
of the&longs;e Machines, and that is the
Cupola;
Arches, but al&longs;o, in a Manner, of Cornices. And who can conceive the innumerable Liga
tures that there are in the&longs;e, which all wedge
together, and inter&longs;ect one another both with
equal and unequal Angles? So that in what&longs;o
ever Part of the whole Cupola you lay a Stone,
or a Brick, you may be &longs;aid at the &longs;ame time
to have laid a Key-&longs;tone to an infinite Number,
both of Arches, and Cornices. And when
the&longs;e Cornices, or Arches are thus built one
upon the other, if the Work were inclined to
ruinate, where &longs;hould it begin, when the Joints
of every Stone are directed to one Centre with
equal Force and pre&longs;&longs;ure? Some of the Ancients
tru&longs;ted &longs;o much to the Firmne&longs;s of this Sort of
Structure, that they only made plain Cornices
of Brick at &longs;tated Di&longs;tances, and filled up the
Inter&longs;paces with Rubble. But I think, tho&longs;e
acted much more prudently, who in rai&longs;ing
this Sort of Cupola, u&longs;ed the &longs;ame Methods as
in Walling, to cramp and fa&longs;ten the under
Cornices to the next above, and the Arches
too in &longs;everal Places, e&longs;pecially if they had not
plenty of Pit Sand to make very good Cement,
or if the Building was expo&longs;ed to South Winds,
or Bla&longs;ts from the Sea. You may likewi&longs;e
turn the Angular Cupolas without a Centre,
if you make a perfect one in the Middle of the
Thickne&longs;s of the Work. But here you will
have particular Occa&longs;ion for Ligatures to fa&longs;ten
the weaker Parts of the outer one tightly to
the &longs;tronger Parts of that within. Yet it will
be nece&longs;&longs;ary when you have laid one or two
Rows of Stone to make little light Stays, or
Catchers jutting out, on which, when tho&longs;e
Rows are &longs;ettled, you may &longs;et ju&longs;t Frame-work
enough to &longs;upport the next Cour&longs;es above, to
the Height of a few Feet, till they are &longs;ufficiently
hardened; and then you may remove the&longs;e
Frames, or Supports, higher and higher to
the other Cour&longs;es till you have fini&longs;h'd the
whole Work. The other Vaults, both plain and
mixed, or camerated, mu&longs;t needs be turn'd
upon Centres. But I would have the fir&longs;t
Cour&longs;es, and the Heads of their Arches be
placed upon very &longs;trong Seats; nor can I ap
prove the Method of tho&longs;e who carry the
Wall clear up fir&longs;t, only leaving &longs;ome Mould
ings, or Corbels, upon which, after a Time,
they turn their Arches; which mu&longs;t be a very
infirm and peri&longs;hable Sort of Work. The
true Way is to turn the Arch immediately,
and equally with the Cour&longs;es of the Wall
which is to &longs;upport it, that the Work may
have the &longs;tronge&longs;t Ligatures that is po&longs;&longs;ible,
and grow in a Manner all of one Piece. The
Vacuities which are left between the Back of
the Sweep of the Arch, and the Upright of
the Wall it is turn'd from, call'd by Work
men, the
up, not with Dirt, or old Rubbi&longs;h, but rather
with &longs;trong ordinary Work, frequently knit
and jointed into the Wall.
I AM plea&longs;ed with tho&longs;e who, to avoid over
burthening the Arch, have &longs;tuffed up the&longs;e
Vacuities with earthen Pots, turn'd with their
Mouths downwards, that they might not con
tain any wet, if it &longs;hould gather there, and
over the&longs;e thrown in Fragments of Stone not
heavy, but perfecty &longs;ound. La&longs;tly, in all Man
ner of Vaults, let them be of what Kind they
will, we ought to imitate Nature, who, when
&longs;he has knit the Bones, fa&longs;tens the Fle&longs;h with
Nerves, interweaving it every where with Li
gatures running in Breadth, Length, Height
and circularly. This artful Contexture is what
we ought to imitate in the joining of Stones
in Vaults. The&longs;e Things being compleated,
the next, and la&longs;t Bu&longs;ine&longs;s is to cover them
over; a Work of the greate&longs;t Con&longs;equence in
Building, and no le&longs;s difficult than nece&longs;&longs;ary;
in effecting, and compleating of which, the
utmo&longs;t Care and Study has been over and over
employed. Of this we are to treat; but fir&longs;t,
it will be proper to mention &longs;omething nece&longs;
&longs;ary to be ob&longs;erved in working of Vaults; for
different Methods are to be taken in the Exe
cution of different Sorts: Tho&longs;e which are
turn'd upon Centres mu&longs;t be fini&longs;h'd out of
hand, without Intermi&longs;&longs;ion; but tho&longs;e which
are wrought without Centres mu&longs;t be di&longs;con
tinued, and left to &longs;ettle Cour&longs;e by Cour&longs;e,
left new Work being added to the fir&longs;t before
it is dry, &longs;hould ruin the Whole. As to tho&longs;e
clo&longs;ed with their Key-&longs;tones, it will be proper
immediately to ea&longs;e the Props a little, that
tho&longs;e Centres re&longs;t upon; not only to prevent
the Stones fre&longs;h laid from floating in the Beds
of Mortar they are &longs;et in, but that the whole
Vault may &longs;ink and clo&longs;e by its own Weight
epually, into its right Seat: Otherwi&longs;e in drying,
the Work would not compact it&longs;elf as it ought,
but would be apt to leave Cracks when it came
afterwards to &longs;ettle. And therefore you mu&longs;t
not quite take away the Centre immediately,
but let it down ea&longs;ily Day after Day, by little
and little, for Fear, if you &longs;hould take it away
too &longs;oon, the Building &longs;hould never duly cement. But after a certain Number of Days, according
to the Greatne&longs;s of the Work, ea&longs;eit a little, and
&longs;o go on gradually, till the Wedges all compact
them&longs;elves in their Places, and are perfectly
&longs;ettled. The be&longs;t Way of letting down the
Frame is this: When you place your Centre
upon the Pila&longs;ters, or whatever el&longs;e it is to
re&longs;t upon, put under each of its Feet two
Wedges of Wood; aud when afterwards you
want to let it down, you may with a Ham
mer &longs;afely drive out the&longs;e Wedges by little
and little, as you &longs;hall judge proper.
LASTLY, it is my Opinion, that the Centres
ought not to be taken away till after Winter,
as well for other Rea&longs;ons, as becau&longs;e the
Wa&longs;hing of the Rains may weaken and de
moli&longs;h the whole Structure; though el&longs;e we
cannot do greater Service to a Vault than to
give it Water enough, and to let it be
thoroughly &longs;oak'd, that it may never feel Thir&longs;t. But of this Subject we have &longs;aid enough.
CHAP. XV.
Shapes of Tiles, and what to make them of.
I now come to cover the Roof.
And cer
tainly, if we weigh the Matter duly, there
is no Convenience in the whole Building
greater than the having Shelter from the burn
ing Sun, and the inclement Sea&longs;ons; and this
is a Benefit which you owe the Continuance
of, not to the Wall, nor to Area, nor any of
the&longs;e; but principally to the outward Shell of
the Roof; which all the Art and Indu&longs;try of
Man, though they have tried all Means, has
not yet been able to make &longs;o &longs;trong and im
penetrable again&longs;t the Weather as might be
wi&longs;h'd: Nor do I think, it will be an ea&longs;y
Matter to do it; for where, not only Rains,
but Extremes of Heat and Cold, and above
all, blu&longs;tering Storms of Wind, are continu
ally a&longs;&longs;aulting the &longs;ame Place; what Mate
rials are &longs;trong enough to re&longs;i&longs;t &longs;uch unwearied
and powerful Adver&longs;aries? Hence it happens,
that &longs;ome Coverings pre&longs;ently rot, others open,
others oppre&longs;s the Wall, &longs;ome crack, or break,
others are wa&longs;hed away; in&longs;omuch, that even
Metals, which are &longs;o hardy again&longs;t the Wea
ther, in other Places, are not here able to hold
out again&longs;t &longs;uch frequent A&longs;&longs;aults. But Men
not de&longs;pi&longs;ing &longs;uch Materials as Nature furni&longs;h
ed them with in their re&longs;pective Countries,
have provided again&longs;t the&longs;e Inconveniences as
well as they were able; and hence aro&longs;e various
Methods of Covering in a Building.
us
Hou&longs;es with Reeds, and the People of
&longs;eilles
Straw. The
tes, Pliny
Shells of Tortoi&longs;es. The greate&longs;t Part of
manyIn
they cut a white Sort of Stone which they
have (which Saws ea&longs;ier than Wood it&longs;elf) in
to their Scantlings, which they u&longs;e in&longs;tead of
Tiles. The
Pieces of a &longs;caly Sort of Stone. Others have
tried the Pargets, which we &longs;hall &longs;peak of by
and by. But after having made Experiment of
every Thing, the Wit and Invention of Man
has found out nothing yet more convenient
than Tiles of baked Clay. For all Sorts of
Parget grow rugged in Fro&longs;ts, and &longs;o crack and
break: Lead is melted by the Sun's Heat:
Bra&longs;s, if laid in thick Plates, is very co&longs;tly;
and if it is thin, it is apt to warp, and to be
eaten and con&longs;umed with Ru&longs;t.
ONE
&longs;ant, is &longs;aid to be the Inventer of Tiles, which
are of two Sorts, the one broad and flat, one
Foot broad, and a Foot and a half long,
Breadth, which is call'd a Gutter-tile; the
other round, like Greaves, (a Piece of Armour
for the Legs,) which is called a Ridge-tile;
both broader in that Part which is to receive
the Rain, and narrower in that from which
they are to di&longs;charge it. But the Plain, or
Gutter-tiles are the mo&longs;t Commodius, pro
vided they are laid exactly even, &longs;o as not to
lean of either Side, nor to make either Vallies
or Hilocks to &longs;top the Current of the Water,
or to let it &longs;ettle in, nor to leave any Cranny
uncover'd. If the Superficies of the Roof is
very large, it requires bigger Gutter-tiles, that
the Rain may not overflow them for want of
a &longs;ufficient Receptacle. To prevent the Fury
of the Wind from ripping off the Tiles, I
would have them all fa&longs;tened with Mortar;
e&longs;pecially in publick Buildings: But in private
Ones, it will be enough if you &longs;ecure only the
Gutter-tiles from that Violence, becau&longs;e what
ever Mi&longs;chief is done, is ea&longs;ily repair'd. There
is another very convenient Way of Tiling, in
this Manner: If in Timber Roofs, in&longs;tead of
Planks, you lay along the Girders Squares of
baked Clay, fa&longs;ten'd with Plai&longs;ter of
over the&longs;e Squares lay your Tiles with Mortar,
it will be a Covering very &longs;ecure again&longs;t Fire,
and very commodious to the Inhabitants; and
it will be le&longs;s expen&longs;ive, if, in&longs;tead of Squares,
you underlay it with Reeds, bound with Mor
tar. I would not have you u&longs;e your Tiles,
and e&longs;pecially tho&longs;e which you lay with Mor
tar, in publick Works, till they have &longs;upported
the Fro&longs;t and Sun two Years; becau&longs;e, if you
happen to u&longs;e any bad ones, there is no taking
them out again without a good deal of
Trouble and Expence. It may not be ami&longs;s
here to mention what I have read in
the Hi&longs;torian, relating to the famous hanging
Gardens in
a new, and not unu&longs;eful Invention: For upon
the Beams they laid Ru&longs;hes dawb'd over with
Pitch, and on the&longs;e two Rows of baked
Bricks, one above the other, cemented with
Mortar; and in the third Place, they laid
Plates of Lead &longs;o di&longs;po&longs;ed, and fa&longs;ten'd to
gether, that not the lea&longs;t wet could penetrate
to the Brick.
CHAP. XVI.
of the Ancients; and of the proper Sea&longs;ons for Beginning and Fini&longs;hing
the &longs;everal Parts of Building.
We come now to treat of Pavements,
which al&longs;o partake &longs;omewhat of the
Nature of Coverings. Of the&longs;e, &longs;ome are
open to the Air; others are laid upon Rafters
and Boards, others not: All require for their
Foundation a &longs;olid, and even Superficies, laid
exactly according to their proper Lines. Tho&longs;e
which are open to the Air ought to be rai&longs;ed
in &longs;uch a Manner, that every ten Foot may
have a Declivity of, at lea&longs;t, two Inches, to
throw off the Water, which ought to be con
veyed from thence either into Ci&longs;terns or
Sinks. If from the&longs;e Sinks you have not the
Conveniency of a Drain, either into the Sea,
or &longs;ome River, dig Pits for the Soil in conve
nient Places, &longs;o deep as to come to &longs;ome Spring
of Water, and then fill up tho&longs;e Pits with
round Pebbles.
LASTLY, if you have no Opportunity to
do this, make good large Sinks, and fling
Coals into them, and then fill them up with
Sand, which will &longs;uck up, and dry away the
&longs;uperfluous Moi&longs;ture. If the Superficies that
your Pavement is to be laid upon, is a &longs;oft
loo&longs;e Earth, ram it &longs;oundly, and lay it over
with broken Fragments of Stone, well beat in
with the Rammer al&longs;o: But if the Pavement
is to be upon Rafters, cover them over with
Boards, and upon them lay your Rubbi&longs;h or
Fragments of Stone a Foot high, and beaten
together, and con&longs;olidated with the Rammer. Some are of Opinion, that under the&longs;e we
ought to lay Fern, or Spart, to keep the Mor
tar from rotting the Timber. If your Rub
bi&longs;h is of new Stone, allow one Part of Mortar
to three of Rubbi&longs;h; if it is of old, you mu&longs;t
allow two Parts in five; and when it is laid,
the Way to &longs;tiffen it, is to pound it heartily
with the Rammer. Over the&longs;e you lay a
Plai&longs;ter &longs;ix Inches high, made of broken
Tiles, or Bricks pounded, mix'd with one
fourth Part of Mortar; and upon this, la&longs;tly,
you lay your Pavement, of what&longs;oever Sort it
is, whether of Brick or Tile, exactly by Rule The Work will be more &longs;ecure
&longs;till, if between the Rubbi&longs;h, and the Plai&longs;ter
you lay a Row of plain Tiles cemented with
Mortar, mixed up with Oil. As for Pave
ments which are not to be expo&longs;ed to the open
Air.
following Manner, which he tells us will be
very &longs;erviceable by means of its extraordinary
Dryne&longs;s: Dig two Foot deep into the Ground,
then ram the Bottom &longs;oundly, and lay a Pave
ment, either of Rubbi&longs;h, or broken Brick,
leaving Vent-holes for the Vapours to di&longs;charge
them&longs;elves; over this lay Coals well levell'd,
and ramm'd down, and over all a Cru&longs;t made
of Sand, Mortar, and A&longs;hes. The&longs;e Things
already mention'd, we have gathered from
down what I have with great Pains and Labour
di&longs;covered relating to Pavements from the
actual Works of the Ancients; from whence,
I con&longs;e&longs;s, I have learnt much more than from
their Writings. We will begin with the Out
ward Shell, which it is very difficult to make,
&longs;o as it &longs;hall not rot, or crack: For when once
it has been thoroughly &longs;oak'd with wet, and
comes to dry again, either by Sun, or Wind,
it dries by Scales, and as we &longs;ee in Mud left
after Floods, the upper Coat &longs;hrinks, and
leaves Cracks which cannot be filled up; for
tho&longs;e Parts which are dried and hardened,
cannot be made to cohere again by any Art
what&longs;oever, and tho&longs;e which are &longs;till moi&longs;t,
yield and give Way to the lea&longs;t Violence. I
find the Ancients made their Shell either of
baked Earth, or of Stone; and where Mens
Feet were not to tread, they made their Tiles
&longs;ometimes a Foot and a half every Way, ce
mented with Mortar mixed up with Oil; we
al&longs;o &longs;ometimes meet with &longs;mall Bricks one
Inch in Thickne&longs;s, two in Breadth, and four in
Length, join'd Sideways like a Fi&longs;h's Back
bone. We often find Pavements of very large
Slabs of Marble, and others again of &longs;maller
Pieces, and little Squares. There are other An
cient Pavements made all of one Piece, which
I &longs;uppo&longs;e, was a Mixture of Lime, Sand, and
pounded Brick, of each a third Part: which
may be made more &longs;trong and la&longs;ting yet, by
the Addition of one fourth Part of
Stone, beat to Powder. Others in this Sort of
Plai&longs;ter mightily commend the Sand of
zuolo, Plai&longs;ter that is
de&longs;igned for Pavements mu&longs;t be tried by con
tinual beating, whereby it will daily acquire
greater Stiffne&longs;s and Hardne&longs;s, till it comes to be
in a Manner firmer than Stone it&longs;elf. And it
is certain, that if this Plai&longs;ter is &longs;prinkled with
Lime-water, and Lin&longs;eed-oil, it will grow
almo&longs;t as hard as Gla&longs;s, and de&longs;y all Manner of
Weather. Mortar worked up with Oil, is &longs;aid
in Pavements to keep out every Thing that is
noxious. Under the Shell I ob&longs;erve they made
a Layer of Mortar, and &longs;mall Pieces of broken
Brick, of the Thickne&longs;s of two or three Inches. Next to this we find a Cour&longs;e of Rubbi&longs;h, of
Bits of Bricks and Chippings of Stone, &longs;uch as
the Ma&longs;ons cut off with their Chizzel, and this
is about a Foot in Thickne&longs;s. In &longs;ome Places
betwixt the&longs;e two Cour&longs;es, we find a regular
one of baked Tile, or Brick, and at the Bottom
of all a Layer of Stones, none bigger than a
Man's Fi&longs;t. The Stones found in Rivers,
which are called Male ones, as for In&longs;tance,
tho&longs;e round ones which partake of the Nature
of Flint, or Gla&longs;s, grow dry immediately when
they are taken out of the Water, whereas Brick
and ordinary Stone retain Moi&longs;ture a long
Time; for which Rea&longs;on, many affirm that the
Damps which ari&longs;e out of the Earth will never
be able to penetrate to the Shell of the Pave
ment, if it is underlaid with tho&longs;e Stones. We
&longs;ometimes find that they made little &longs;quare
Pila&longs;ters a Foot and a half high next to the
Ground, &longs;tanding about two Foot di&longs;tance one
from the other, upon which they laid baked
Tiles, and upon the&longs;e the Pavement above
mention'd. But this Kind of Pavement belongs
chiefly to Baths; of which we &longs;hall treat in
their proper Place. Pavements delight in
Damps, and a wet Air, while they are making,
and endure be&longs;t and longe&longs;t in moi&longs;t and &longs;hady
Places; and their chief Enemies are the Loo&longs;e
ne&longs;s of the Earth, and &longs;udden Droughts. For
as repeated Rains make the Ground clo&longs;e and
firm, &longs;o Pavements being heartily wetted, grow
compact, and hard as Iron. That Part of the
Pavement which is to receive the Water falling
from the Gutters, ought to be made of the
large&longs;t and &longs;ounde&longs;t Stones, &longs;uch as will not
ea&longs;ily be worn away by the continual Malice
(if we may &longs;o call it) of the Spouts that fall
upon them. In &longs;uch Pavements as are laid
upon Timber-work, or Roofing, you mu&longs;t take
Care that the Ribs upon which it re&longs;ts are
&longs;ufficiently &longs;trong, and equal one to the other;
for if it &longs;hould be otherwife, or one Wall, or
Rafter which it lies upon, &longs;hould be &longs;tronger
than another, the Pavement would decay and
&longs;plit in that Part; for as Timber-work will
not always keep exactly in the &longs;ame Condition,
Weather, being &longs;well'd by wet, and dried and
&longs;hrunk by Heat, it is no Wonder that the wea
ker Parts &longs;hould &longs;ink under the Weight, and
&longs;o crack the Pavement. But of this we have
&longs;aid enough.
HOWEVER, I will not pa&longs;s over one Thing
which is not at all foreign to our Purpo&longs;e,
namely, that different Times and Sea&longs;ons, and
Di&longs;po&longs;itions of the Air, are proper for digging
the Foundations, filling them up, rai&longs;ing the
Wall, turning of Vaults, and fini&longs;hing the
Shells. The Foundations are be&longs;t dug while
the Sun is in
being then thoroughly dry, which will keep
your Trench from being infe&longs;ted with Water. The Spring is very convenient for filling them
up, e&longs;pecially if they are pretty deep; becau&longs;e
they will be &longs;ufficiently defended from the
Heat of the Summer, by means of the Ground
which &longs;tands about them as their Protector;
though it will be &longs;till more convenient to fill
them up in the Beginning of Winter, unle&longs;s in
Countries near the Pole, or in &longs;uch cold
Climates where they will be likely to freeze
before they are dry. The Wall too abhors
both exce&longs;&longs;ive Heat, exce&longs;&longs;ive Cold, and &longs;ud
den Fro&longs;ts, and e&longs;pecially Northerly Winds. Vaults, till they are dry and &longs;ettled, require
an equal and temperate Sea&longs;on, more than
any other Sort of Structure. The be&longs;t Time
for laying on the Coat is about the ri&longs;ing of
the Stars, call'd the
Spring) and particularly &longs;uch Days as have
been &longs;ufficiently moi&longs;tened with &longs;outherly
Breezes; for if the Work which you are to
plai&longs;ter over, or white-wa&longs;h, is not extreamly
moi&longs;t, nothing that you lay on will &longs;tick to it,
but it will part and crack, and always look
rough and &longs;candalous. But of Plai&longs;tering and
Stuc-work we &longs;hall treat more largely in its
proper Place. Having now gone through the
general Con&longs;ideration of our Subject, it remains
that we de&longs;cend to Particulars; and accor
dingly we de&longs;ign to &longs;hew fir&longs;t the different
Sorts of Buildings, and the Qualities requi&longs;ite
in each of them; then their Ornaments; and
la&longs;tly, how to remedy &longs;uch Defects in them as
are owing either to the Fault of the Workman,
or the Injury of Time.
THE
OF
BOOK IV. CHAP. I.
That all Buildings, whether contrived for
Nece&longs;&longs;ity, Conveniency or Plea&longs;ure, were intended for the Service of Man
kind. Of the &longs;everal Divi&longs;ions of humane Conditions, whence ari&longs;es the
Diver&longs;ity of Buildings.
It is plain that Building was in
vented for the Service of Man
kind; for if we con&longs;ider the
Matter ever &longs;o little, it is natural
to &longs;uppo&longs;e that their fir&longs;t De&longs;ign
was only to rai&longs;e a Structure that might de
fend them and theirs from the ill Qualities of
the Weather; afterwards they proceeded to
make not only every Thing that was ne
ce&longs;&longs;ary to their Safety, but al&longs;o every Thing
that might be convenient or u&longs;eful to them. At la&longs;t, in&longs;tructed and allured by the Oppor
tunities that naturally offer'd them&longs;elves, they
began to contrive how to make their Build
ings &longs;ub&longs;ervient to their Plea&longs;ures and Recre
adons, and proceeded every Day further and
further in &longs;o doing: So that if upon con&longs;ider
ing the various Sorts of Buildings, we
&longs;hould &longs;ay, that &longs;ome were contrived by Ne
ce&longs;&longs;ity, &longs;ome by Convenience, and &longs;ome by
Plea&longs;ure, it might, perhaps, be no ill Defini
tion of the Matter. Yet when we take a View
of the great Plenty and Variety of Buildings
all about us, we ea&longs;ily perceive that all were
not erected merely upon tho&longs;e Accounts, or
for one Occa&longs;ion more than another, but that
this great Variety and Difference among them,
are owing principally to the Variety there is
among Mankind. So that, if according to
our Method we would make a careful Enquiry
into their Sorts and Parts, it is here that we
mu&longs;t begin our Di&longs;qui&longs;ition, namely, from the
Nature of Mankind, and wherein they differ
from one another; &longs;ince upon their Account
it is that Buildings are erected, and for their
U&longs;es varied: So that having thoroughly con
&longs;idered the&longs;e Things, we may treat of them
more clearly. For this Purpo&longs;e, it will not
be ami&longs;s to recollect the Opinions of the wi&longs;e
Founders of ancient Republicks and Laws con
ent Orders; in as much as they applied them
&longs;elves to the Con&longs;ideration of the&longs;e Things
with the greate&longs;t Care, Diligence and Appli
cation, and have received the highe&longs;t Applau&longs;es
for their Di&longs;coveries.
Commonwealth into two Ranks, one that made
and expounded the Laws, both Humane and
Divine, and the other that follow'd manual Oc
cupations.
according to their Wealth, and &longs;uch as did not
rai&longs;e from their Po&longs;&longs;e&longs;&longs;ions three hundred
Bu&longs;hels of Grain every Year, he reckon'd &longs;carce
worthy to be e&longs;teem'd a Citizen. The
gave the fir&longs;t Rank to Men of Learning and
Wi&longs;dom; the &longs;econd to the Orators, and the
la&longs;t to Artificers.
and
divided the
&longs;pective Employments. In
were in a Manner Slaves; the re&longs;t, &longs;ays
were either Soldiers, or Profe&longs;&longs;ors of Religion,
or the Study of Wi&longs;dom, whom they call'd Among the
the Prie&longs;ts; the &longs;econd, the Husbandmen,
and the la&longs;t, the Soldiers, with whom were
reckon'd the Shepherds, and Tenders of Herds. The
the fir&longs;t were tho&longs;e out of who&longs;e Number
they cho&longs;e their King; the &longs;econd were the
Prie&longs;ts; the third, the Soldiers, and the la&longs;t
the common People. The
fir&longs;t Rank to their Prie&longs;ts; the &longs;econd to their
King and Governours; the third to the Sol
diers, and the re&longs;t of the People were &longs;ubdi
vided into Husbandmen, Shepherds, and Ar
tificers, and further, as
into Mercenaries, and Seamen. We are told, that
Artificers, Husbandmen, and Soldiers.
&longs;eems not di&longs;plea&longs;ed with tho&longs;e who &longs;eparated
from the Multitude &longs;ome Men of greate&longs;t
Worth to manage their Coun&longs;els, and exerci&longs;e
their Office of Magi&longs;tracy and Judicature, and
divided the Remainder of the People into
Husbandmen, Artificers, Merchants, Merce
naries, Hor&longs;e, Foot and Seamen. Not much
unlike this, according to
rian, was the Commonwealth of the
who were di&longs;tingui&longs;hed into Prie&longs;ts, Husband
men, Shepherds, Artificers, Soldiers, Ephori,
or Super-intendants, and tho&longs;e who pre&longs;ided
over the publick Coun&longs;els.
peaceable and de&longs;irous of Quiet and Repo&longs;e;
and at other Times re&longs;tle&longs;s and warlike, ac
cording to the Temper of tho&longs;e at the Helm;
and therefore he divides the Body of the Citi
zens according to the Parts of the Mind of
Man; one to moderate every Thing with
Rea&longs;on and Coun&longs;el; another to re&longs;ent and
repel Injuries with Force; and a third to
prepare and admini&longs;ter Nouri&longs;hment to all
the re&longs;t. The&longs;e Things I have thus briefly
recited out of numorous Writings of the An
cients; and the natural Re&longs;ult &longs;eems to be
this, that all the&longs;e which I have mentioned
are every one of them different Parts of the
Republick, and con&longs;equently that each re
quires a particular Kind of Building. But
that according to our Cu&longs;tom we may be
able to treat of this Subject more di&longs;tinctly, it
will not be ami&longs;s to reflect upon the follow
ing Con&longs;iderations: If any one were to &longs;epa
rate the whole Number of Mankind into dif
ferent Parts, the fir&longs;t Thing that would offer
it&longs;elf to his Thoughts would be this; that it
is not the &longs;ame Thing to con&longs;ider all the In
habitants of any one Province all together
collectively, and to con&longs;ider them &longs;eparately
according to their re&longs;pective Di&longs;tinctions; and
the next Thing would be, that by a Contem
plation of Nature it&longs;elf, he would take Notice
in what Particular they differ'd mo&longs;t from
one another, that from thence he might take
Occa&longs;ion to &longs;eparate them into their proper
Divi&longs;ions. Now there is nothing wherein Men
differ more one from the other, than in the
very particular wherein they differ from
Brutes; namely, in Rea&longs;on, and the Know
ledge of u&longs;eful Arts, to which, if you plea&longs;e,
you may add Pro&longs;perity of Fortune: In all
which Gifts there are very few that excel at
the &longs;ame Time. This then opens to us our
fir&longs;t Divi&longs;ion, and in&longs;tructs us to &longs;elect from
the Multitude, a &longs;mall Number, whereof &longs;ome
are illu&longs;trious for their Wi&longs;dom, Experience
and Capacity; others for their Progre&longs;s, and
Knowledge in u&longs;eful Arts; and others, la&longs;tly,
for their Riches, and Abundance in the Goods
of Fortune. And who will deny that the&longs;e
are the mo&longs;t fit to be intru&longs;ted with the prin
cipal Offices in the Commonwealth? The
mo&longs;t excellent Per&longs;ons, therefore, who are
endued with the greate&longs;t Share of Wi&longs;dom,
ought to be intru&longs;ted with the chief Care and
Power of moderating in all Affairs. Such
Minds, and frame Laws with Ju&longs;tice and
Equity, and them&longs;elves &longs;et the Example of
Living orderly and happily. They will watch
continually for the Defence and Enlargement
of the Authority and Dignity of their Fellow
Citizens. And when they have determined
upon any Thing convement, u&longs;eful, or nece&longs;
&longs;ary; being perhaps them&longs;elves worn out
with Years, and fitter for Contemplation than
Action, they will commit the Execution of it
to &longs;uch as they know to be well experienced,
and brisk and courageous to bring the Matter
to effect, to whom they will give an Oppor
tunity of de&longs;erving well of their Country, by
the Pro&longs;ecution of their De&longs;ign. Then the&longs;e
others, having taken the Bu&longs;ine&longs;s upon them
&longs;elves, will faithfully perform their Parts at
home with Study and Application, and abroad
with Diligence and Labour, giving Judgment,
leading Armies, and exerci&longs;ing their own In
du&longs;try, and that of tho&longs;e who are under them. And la&longs;tly, as it is in vain to think of effecting
any Thing without Means, the next in Place
to tho&longs;e already mentioned are &longs;uch as &longs;upply
the&longs;e with their Wealth, either by Husbandry
or Merchandize. All the other Orders of
Men ought in Rea&longs;on to obey and be &longs;ub
&longs;ervient to the&longs;e as chief. Now if any Thing
is to be gather'd from all this to our Purpo&longs;e,
it is certainly that of the different Kinds of
Building, one Sort belongs to the Publick,
another to the principal Citizens, and another
to the Commonality.
AND again, among the principal Sort, one
is proper for tho&longs;e who bear the Weight of
the publick Coun&longs;els and Deliberations, an
other for tho&longs;e who are employ'd in the Exe
cution, and another for &longs;uch as apply them
&longs;elves to the ama&longs;&longs;ing of Wealth. Of all
which one Part, as we ob&longs;erved before, having
Relation to Nece&longs;&longs;ity, and another to Con
venience; it will be no Pre&longs;umption in us
who are treating of Buildings to allow another
Part to Plca&longs;ure, while in&longs;tead of claiming
any Merit upon this Account to our&longs;elves, we
confe&longs;s that the Principles of this Divi&longs;ion are
to be drawn from the fir&longs;t Rudiments of the
Philo&longs;ophers.
OF this, therefore, we are now to treat,
what belongs to a publick Building, what
to tho&longs;e of the principal Citizens, and what
to tho&longs;e of the common Sort. But where &longs;hall
we begin &longs;uch great Matters? Shall we follow
the gradual Cour&longs;e of Mankind in their pro
curing of all the&longs;e, and &longs;o beginning with the
mean Huts of poor People, go on by degrees
to tho&longs;e va&longs;t Structures which we &longs;ee of Thea
tres, Baths, and Temples. It is certain it was
a great while before Mankind enclo&longs;ed their
Cities with Walls. Hi&longs;torians tell us that
when
he did not meet with one walled Town; and
none in
Province of
were no Towns encompa&longs;s'd with Walls, but
the People dwelt up and down in Villages. The fir&longs;t City I find any Mention of is
belonging to the
girt in with a Wall drawn round all their
Hou&longs;es: Whatever
of
dotus
had Po&longs;&longs;e&longs;&longs;ion of
any Criminal with Death, but obliged him to
rai&longs;e the Earth all round the Village he lived
in; and this, they &longs;ay, was the fir&longs;t Beginning
of Cities in But we &longs;hall &longs;peak of
them in another Place. And though it mu&longs;t
be confe&longs;s'd that all humane Inventions take
their Ri&longs;e from very &longs;mall Beginnings, yet I
intend here to begin with the Works of the
greate&longs;t Perfection.
CHAP. II.
for a City, according to the Opinion of the Ancients, and that of the
Author.
All the Citizens are concerned in every
Thing of a publick Nature that makes
Part of the City: And if we are convinced of
what the Philo&longs;ophers teach, that the Occa&longs;ion
and Rea&longs;on of Building Cities is that the In
habitants may dwell in them in Peace, and,
as far as po&longs;&longs;ibly may be, free from all Incon
veniencies and Mole&longs;tations, then certainly it
what Place or Situation, and with what Cir
cuit of Lines it ought to be fix'd. Concern
ing the&longs;e Things there have been various
Opinions.
it the greate&longs;t Glory to have va&longs;t uninhabited
De&longs;arts for their Confines: Becau&longs;e they
thought the&longs;e De&longs;arts &longs;ecured them again&longs;t
&longs;udden Irruptions from their Enemies. The
Hi&longs;torians &longs;uppo&longs;e that the only Thing which
deterr'd
ing his Army into
Provi&longs;ions, and the Difficulty of the Places
through which he mu&longs;t march. The
being defended by their De&longs;arts and Mar&longs;hes,
never fell under the Dominion of any foreign
Prince. They &longs;ay, that the
wanting both Water and Fruits, never felt the
A&longs;&longs;aults, or Injuries of any Enemies.
&longs;ays that
Armies of Barbarians only for the Sake of her
Wines and Figs: We may add that the too
great Plenty of &longs;uch Things as &longs;erve only to
Luxury, are very prejudicial, as
both to Young and Old; becau&longs;e it is apt to
make the Latter cruel, and the Former effe
minate.
is a Region wonderfully fruitful, which as it
generally happens in rich Soils, engenders a
very cowardly weak Race of Men; whereas
on the contrary the
&longs;tony Country, being forced to con&longs;tant La
bour, and to live with great Frugality, were
extremely robu&longs;t and indu&longs;trious. The State
of Things being &longs;o, it is probable &longs;ome may
not di&longs;like the&longs;e barren difficult Places for
fixing a City in; tho' others again may be of
a contrary Opinion, de&longs;iring to enjoy all the
Benefits and Gifts of Nature, and to want no
thing that may contribute either to Nece&longs;&longs;ity
or Plea&longs;ure; and for the right u&longs;ing of the&longs;e
Benefits, the Fathers may provide by Laws
and Statutes. And they think the Conveni
encies of Life are much more plea&longs;ing when
they may be had at home, than when they are
obliged to fetch them from abroad: for which
Rea&longs;on, they de&longs;ire &longs;uch a Soil as
is to be found near
favourable a Climate, that all the Trees even
the Vines them&longs;elves, never drop their Leaves
the whole Year round: or &longs;uch a one as is
under Mount
to the North, where
Grapes are three Foot long, and that every
&longs;ingle Vine Tree yields half a Barrel of Wine,
and one Fig Tree an hundred and forty
Pound Weight of Figs; or &longs;uch a one as is
in
Ocean, where
their Fruits twice every Year; or like that of
tugal,
yields &longs;everal Harve&longs;ts, or rather like
the
brings forth Corn without Tillage. But the&longs;e
Things are uncommon, and rather to be with'd
for than had. And therefore the wife An
cients who have written upon this Subject,
either from their own Ob&longs;ervations, or the
Books of others, are of Opinion, that a City
ought to be &longs;o placed as to have all &longs;ufficient
Nece&longs;&longs;aries within its own Territory (as far as
the Condition of human Affairs will permit)
without being obliged to &longs;eek them abroad;
and that the Circuit of its Confines ought to
be fortified, that no Enemy can ea&longs;ily make
an Irruption upon them, though at the &longs;ame
time they may &longs;end out Armies into the Coun
tries of their Neighbours, whatever the Enemy
can do to prevent it; which is a Situation that
they tell us will enable a City not only to
defend its Liberty, but al&longs;o to enlarge the
Bounds of its Dominion. But after all, what
&longs;hall we &longs;ay? No Place ever had tho&longs;e Ad
vantages more than
&longs;trongly fortified in all its Parts, as to be in a
Manner inacce&longs;&longs;ible, having on one Side, the
Sea, and on the other a va&longs;t De&longs;art; on the
right Hand &longs;teep Mountains; and on the
Left, huge Mar&longs;hes; be&longs;ides, the Fruitfulne&longs;s
of the Soil is &longs;o great, that the Ancients u&longs;ed
to call
fabled that the Gods made it their common
Retreat either for Safety or Plea&longs;ure; and yet
even this Country, though &longs;o &longs;trong, and &longs;o
abounding in all Manner of Plenty, that it
could boa&longs;t of feeding the Univer&longs;e, and of
entertaining and harbouring the Gods them
&longs;elves, could not, as
ways pre&longs;erve its Liberty.
THOSE therefore are entirely in the Right,
who teach us, though in Fables, that human
Affairs are never per&longs;ectly &longs;ecure though laid
in the Lap of Upon which
Occa&longs;ion we may not improperly make u&longs;e of
the &longs;ame An&longs;wer that
was ask'd where that perfect Commonwealth
was to be found, which he had made &longs;o fine
a De&longs;cription of; that, &longs;ays he, was not the
was how to frame the be&longs;t that po&longs;&longs;ibly could
be, and that which deviates lea&longs;t from a Re
&longs;emblance of this, ought to be preferred above
all the re&longs;t. So our De&longs;ign is to de&longs;cribe and
illu&longs;trate by Examples &longs;uch a City as the wi&longs;e&longs;t
Men judge to be in all Re&longs;pects the mo&longs;t con
venient; and in other Re&longs;pects accommodat
ing our&longs;elves to Time and Nece&longs;&longs;ity, we &longs;hall
follow the Opinion of
cannot be alter'd but for the wor&longs;e, is really
be&longs;t. I lay it down therefore for granted, that
our City ought to be contrived as to &longs;uffer
none of the Inconveniencies &longs;poken of in the
fir&longs;t Book, nor to want any of the Nece&longs;&longs;aries
of Life. Its Territory &longs;hall be healthy, wide,
plea&longs;ant, various, fruitful, &longs;ecure, and abound
ing with Plenty of Fruits, and great Quantities
of Water. It mu&longs;t not want Rivers, Lakes,
and an open Pa&longs;&longs;age to the Sea for the con
venient bringing in of &longs;uch Things as are
wanted, and carrying out &longs;uch as may be
&longs;pared. All Things, in a Word, mu&longs;t con
tribute to the e&longs;tabli&longs;hing and improving all
Affairs both civil and military, whereby the
Commonwealth may be a Defence to its Sub
jects, an Ornament to it&longs;elf, a Plea&longs;ure to its
Friends, and a Terror to its Enemies. I take
it to be a great Happine&longs;s to any City, to be
able to cultivate a good hand&longs;ome Part of its
Territory, in Spite of any Enemy what&longs;oever. Moreover your City ought to &longs;tand in the
Middle of its Territory, in a Place from
whence it can have a View all round its Coun
try, and watch its Opportunities, and be ready
where-ever Nece&longs;&longs;ity calls, which may lie con
venient for the Farmer, and Ploughman to go
out to his daily Labour, and return with Ea&longs;e
laden with Grain and Fruits. But the Situation
is one of the Things of greate&longs;t Importance,
whether it &longs;hould be upon an open Plain, or
upon the Shore, or on a Hill: becau&longs;e each of
the&longs;e have &longs;ome particular Qualities that are
u&longs;eful, and others on the contrary that are not
&longs;o agreeable.
WHEN
the exce&longs;&longs;ive Heat bred Di&longs;tempers among
them; whereupon he carried them up to the
Hills, where the Whole&longs;omne&longs;s of the Air im
mediately cured them. Tho&longs;e that fir&longs;t built
Cites upon Hills, &longs;eem to have done it upon Ac
count of the Security of &longs;uch a Situation; but
then they generally want Water. The Plains af
ford great Conveniencies of Water, and of
Rivers; but the Air is more gro&longs;s, which
makes the Summer exce&longs;&longs;ively hot, and the
Winter as cold; be&longs;ides, being le&longs;s defended
again&longs;t any Violence.
THE Sea-&longs;hore is mighty convenient for the
Importation of Merchandizes; but all Sea
towns are reckoned too fond and greedy of
Novelties, and to &longs;uffer perpetual Commo
tions from the too great Concour&longs;e, and the
Broils of Strangers, and are expo&longs;ed to very
dangerous In&longs;ults and Revolutions from foreign
Fleets. In which &longs;oever of the&longs;e Situations
therefore you build your City, you &longs;hould en
deavour to contrive that it may partake of all
the Advantages, and be liable to none of
the Di&longs;advantages. Upon a Hill I would
make the Ground level, and upon a Plain I
would rai&longs;e it to an Eminence in that Part
where my City was to be placed. And if we
cannot effect this ju&longs;t according to our Wi&longs;h,
by rea&longs;on of the great Variety of Places, let
us make u&longs;e of the following Methods to ob
tain at lea&longs;t every Thing that is nece&longs;&longs;ary:
On a maritime Coa&longs;t, if it is a Plain, do not
let the City &longs;tand too near the Sea; nor too
far from it, if it is hilly. We are told that
the Shores of the Sea are liable to Alteration;
and that &longs;everal Towns, and particularly
Waves.
rounded by the Sea, is now become a
ne&longs;us,
Change: Nay they tell us that the Temple
of
&longs;hore, though now the Sea has left it, and it
&longs;tands far within the Land. They advi&longs;e us
to build our City either clo&longs;e to the Shore, or
el&longs;e at a pretty good Di&longs;tance from the Sea:
for we find that the Winds from the Sea are
heavy and &longs;harp, by rea&longs;on of their Saltne&longs;s:
And therefore, when they arrive at &longs;ome Place
at a middling Di&longs;tance from the Sea, e&longs;pecially
if it is a Plain, you will find the Air there ex
tremely moi&longs;t through the di&longs;&longs;olving of the
Salt which it took from the Sea, which makes
it thick and heavy, and perfectly ropy; &longs;o
that in &longs;uch Places you &longs;hall &longs;ometimes &longs;ee a
Sort of Strings flying about in the Air like
Cobwebs; And they tell us, that a Mixture
of Salt has the &longs;ame Effect upon the Air as it
has upon Water, which it will corrupt to
&longs;uch a Degree as to make it &longs;tink very offen
&longs;ively. The Ancients, and chiefly
for having a City &longs;tand at ten Miles Di&longs;tance
far off, let it be at lea&longs;t in &longs;ome Situation where
the above-mention'd Winds cannot reach it,
otherwi&longs;e than broken, tired and purified;
placing it &longs;o, that between it and the Sea there
may &longs;tand &longs;ome Hill to interrupt any noxi
ous Vapour from thence. A Pro&longs;pect of the
Sea from the Shore is wonderfully plea&longs;ant, and
is generally attended with a whole&longs;ome Air;
and
healthy where the Winds keep the Atmo&longs;phere
in continual Motion: but then the Sea there
mu&longs;t not be weedy, with a low Beach &longs;carce
covered with Water; but deep with a high
bold Shore of a living craggy Rock. The
placing a City upon the proud Shoulders of a
Mountain (if we may be allowed &longs;o florid an
Expre&longs;&longs;ion) contributes greatly not only to
Dignity and Plea&longs;ure, but yet more to Health. In tho&longs;e Places where the Hills over&longs;hadow the
Sea, the Water is always deep; be&longs;ides that if
any gro&longs;s Vapours do ari&longs;e from the Sea, they
&longs;pend them&longs;elves before they reach &longs;o high;
and if any &longs;udden Attack is made upon you from
an Enemy, you lie le&longs;s liable to be &longs;urprized,
and more advantageou&longs;ly for defending your
&longs;elf. The Ancients commend a Situation upon
the Ea&longs;t Side of a Hill, and in hot Countries,
that Side which lies open to Northern Winds. Others perhaps may rather chu&longs;e the We&longs;t Side,
from this Inducement, that manured Ground
lying to that A&longs;pect is the mo&longs;t fruitful: And
indeed it is certain Hi&longs;torians tell us, that under
Mount
North, is much more healthy than the others,
for the very &longs;ame Rea&longs;on that it is al&longs;o more
fruitful. La&longs;tly, if we build our City upon a
Hill, we &longs;hould take particular Care that we are
not expo&longs;ed to one great Inconvenience which
generally happens in &longs;uch a Situation, e&longs;pecially
if there are other Hills near, which rai&longs;e their
Heads above us; namely, that there is not a
&longs;ettled heavy Body of Clouds to darken and
eclip&longs;e the Day and infect the Air. We ought,
be&longs;ides, to have a Care that this Situation is
not expo&longs;ed to the raging Fury and Violence
of Winds, and e&longs;pecially of the North-wind;
which, as
every Body, and particularly old People. It
will make the Situation very bad if there is
any neighbouring Rock &longs;tanding above the
City, &longs;o as to throw upon it the Vapours
rai&longs;ed by the Sun, or any very deep Valley
reaking with unwhole&longs;ome Steams. Others ad
vi&longs;e that the Circuit of the Town &longs;hould ter
minate in Clifts and Precipices; but that the&longs;e
are not always &longs;afe again&longs;t Earthquakes, or
Storms, is &longs;ufficiently evident from very many
Towns, and particularly
for the very Ground it&longs;elf falls away in &longs;uch
Places, and brings down after it what&longs;oever is
built upon it.
YOU ought al&longs;o to take particular Care that
&longs;uch a Situation has no Hill near that ri&longs;es
above it, which falling into the Hands of an
Enemy, may enable him to give you continual
Trouble; nor any Plain laying under it big
enough to conceal an Army in Safety, and
give it Time to make Lodgments and open
Trenches, or to range its Forces in Order of
Battle to attack you. We read that
built the Town of
difficult Pa&longs;&longs;age to it, in&longs;omuch that only
three Men were &longs;ufficient to defend it; a Fort
re&longs;s certainly very convenient, provided your
Pa&longs;&longs;age out cannot be &longs;topt by the &longs;ame Num
ber of Men that can &longs;ecure the Pa&longs;&longs;age in. Men of Experience in military Affairs greatly
commend the Town of
enus
&longs;everal other Advantages that it has, it will not
allow of one Thing common in mountainous
Situations, which is that when once you have
climbed up to the Top, you then can fight
upon an equal Foot; for here you are repul&longs;ed
by a very high &longs;teep Precipice: Neither can the
Enemy here wa&longs;te and de&longs;troy the Country
round with one &longs;ingle Excur&longs;ion, nor &longs;ecure
all the Ways at one Time, nor make a &longs;ecure
Retreat to their Camp, nor &longs;end out to For
age, or to get Wood or Water without Dan
ger; whereas tho&longs;e in the Town enjoy all the
contrary Advantages; for by Means of the
Hills that lie beneath them all running one
into another with a great Number of little
Vallies between, they can at any Time i&longs;&longs;ue
out of a &longs;udden to attack the Enemy una
wares, and &longs;urprize them whenever any im
mediate Opportunity offers it&longs;elf. Nor are
they le&longs;s plea&longs;ed with
Rivers which meet there from different Quar
ters, and very difficult of Acce&longs;s thro' the
narrow Pa&longs;&longs;es of the Vallies guarded all round
with &longs;teep and unpa&longs;&longs;able Mountains: &longs;o that
the Enemy can find no Place to fix a Camp
for a Siege, and can never guard all the Pa&longs;&longs;es,
which are va&longs;tly convenient to tho&longs;e in the
Place for bringing in Provi&longs;ions and Succours, But let this &longs;uffice as to
mountainous Situations. But if you build your
City in a Plain, and according to the general
Practice on the Banks of a River, &longs;o perhaps as
to have the Stream run through the Middle of
the Town, you mu&longs;t have a Care that this
River does not come from the South, nor run
towards that Point: Becau&longs;e on one Side the
Damps, and on the other the Cold being en
crea&longs;ed by the Vapours of the Water, will
come to you with double Violence and Un
whole&longs;omene&longs;s. But if the River flows with
out the Compa&longs;s of the Walls, you mu&longs;t take
a View of the Country round about, and con
&longs;ider on which Side the Winds have the free&longs;t
Pa&longs;&longs;age, that you may there erect a &longs;ufficient
Wall to re&longs;train the River within its Limits. As for other Precautions, it may not be ami&longs;s
to con&longs;ider what the Mariners tell us; to
wit, that the Winds are naturally inclined to
follow the Sun and the Ea&longs;tern Breezes, when
the Phy&longs;icians ob&longs;erve, that tho&longs;e of the Morn
ing are the pure&longs;t, and tho&longs;e of the Evening
the mo&longs;t damp: Whereas on the Contrary when
they blow from the We&longs;t they are heavie&longs;t at
Sun-ri&longs;e, and lighte&longs;t at Sun-&longs;et. For the&longs;e
Rea&longs;ons the be&longs;t Po&longs;ition for a City will be to
have the River come in from the Ea&longs;t, and
go out towards the We&longs;t; becau&longs;e then that
Breeze or gentle Wind which ri&longs;es with the
Sun, will carry the Vapours out of the City,
if any noxious ones &longs;hould ari&longs;e, or at lea&longs;t it
will not encrea&longs;e them it&longs;elf: However, I
would rather have a River, Lake, or any other
Water extend to the North than to the South,
provided the Town do not &longs;tand under the Sha
dow of a Mountain, which is the wor&longs;t Situation
in the World. I will not repeat what we have
&longs;aid before, and we know that the South Wind
is very heavy and &longs;low in its Nature, in&longs;omuch
that when the Sails of a Ship are filled with
it, the Ve&longs;&longs;el &longs;eems oppre&longs;&longs;ed with its Weight,
and draws more Water; whereas, the
North Wind on the contrary &longs;eems to lighten
the Ship and the Sea too: however, it is better
to keep both the&longs;e at a Di&longs;tance, than to have
them continually beating again&longs;t the Wall. Nothing is more condemned than a River flow
ing under high &longs;teep Banks, with a very deep
&longs;tony Channel, and always &longs;haded; becau&longs;e its
Water is unwhol&longs;ome to drink, and the Air upon
it dangerous: And to avoid &longs;ettling near Bogs
and Mar&longs;hes, or &longs;tanding muddy Waters is the
Part of every prudent con&longs;iderate Builder. I
need not mention here the Di&longs;ea&longs;es occa&longs;ion'd
by &longs;uch Neighbourhoods: We need only ob
&longs;erve of the&longs;e Places, that be&longs;ides the common
Nui&longs;ances in Summer of ill Smells, Fleas and
other na&longs;ty Vermin, they are liable to one
great Inconvenience be&longs;ides, when you imagine
the Air to be whole&longs;ome&longs;t and cleare&longs;t (which
we al&longs;o took Notice of in relation to all
Plains) that they are Subject to exce&longs;&longs;ive Colds
in Winter and exce&longs;&longs;ive Heats in Summer. La&longs;tly, we mu&longs;t be very &longs;ure that none of the&longs;e,
whether Hill, Rock, Lake, Bog, River or Well,
or the like, may be &longs;o di&longs;po&longs;ed as to be likely
to &longs;trengthen or &longs;upport an Enemy, or to bring
any Manner of Inconveniencies upon your own
Citizens. And this is as much as is nece&longs;&longs;ary
with Regard to the Region and Situation.
CHAP. III.
of the Walls and Fortifications, and of the Cu&longs;toms and Ceremonies ob
&longs;erved by the Ancients in marking them out.
It is certain the Form of the City and the
Di&longs;tribution of its Parts mu&longs;t be various
according to the Variety of Places; &longs;ince we
&longs;ee it is impo&longs;&longs;ible upon a Hill to lay out an
Area whether round or &longs;quare, or of any other
regular Form, with that Ea&longs;e, that you may
upon an open Plain. The ancient Architects
in encompa&longs;&longs;ing their Towns with Walls, con
demn'd all Angles jutting out from the naked
of the Wall, as thinking they help the Enemy
more in their A&longs;&longs;ault than the Inhabitants in
their Defence; and that they were very weak
again&longs;t the Shocks of military Engines; and
indeed for Treacheries, and for the &longs;afer
throwing their Darts they are of &longs;ome Ad
vantage to the Enemy, e&longs;pecially where they
can run up to the Walls, and withdraw again
immediately to their Camp; but yet they are
&longs;ometimes of very great Service in Towns
&longs;eated upon Hills, if they are &longs;et ju&longs;t an&longs;wering At the famous City
which has &longs;everal little Towers placed here
and there upon the Hills, like the Fingers of
a Man's Hand extending out, if the Enemy
offers to attack one of the Angles with a good
Number of Men, he can find no Place to be
gin his A&longs;&longs;ault, and being obliged to march
under tho&longs;e Towers, is not able to with&longs;tand
the Weapons that will be ca&longs;t, and the Sallies
made upon him. So that the &longs;ame Method
for walling of Towns will not &longs;erve in all Pla
ces. Moreover the Ancients lay it down for
a Rule, that Cities and Ships &longs;hould by no
means be either &longs;o big as to look empty, nor
&longs;o little as to be crowded. Others are for hav
ing their Towns full and clo&longs;e, believing that
it adds to their Safety: Others, feeding them
&longs;elves with great Hopes of Times to come, de
light in having a va&longs;t deal of Room: Others,
perhaps, have an Eye to the Fame and Ho
nour of Po&longs;terity. The City of the
by
form us, was twenty Miles in Circuit;
phis,
three and forty Miles, &longs;ix Furlong;
three&longs;core Miles; and &longs;ome Towns enclo&longs;ed
&longs;o much Ground, that even within the Walls
they could rai&longs;e Provi&longs;ions for the whole Year. But, I think, there is a great deal of Wi&longs;dom
in the old Proverb, which tells us, that we
ought in all Things to avoid exce&longs;s; though
if I were to commit an Error of either Side,
I &longs;hould rather chu&longs;e that Proportion which
would allow of an Encrea&longs;e of Citizens, than that
which is hardly &longs;ufficient to contain the pre&longs;ent
Inhabitants. Add to this, that a City is not
built wholly for the Sake of Shelter, but ought
to be &longs;o contrived, that be&longs;ides mere civil
Conveniencies there may be hand&longs;ome Spaces
left for Squares, Cour&longs;es for Chariots, Gardens,
Places to take the Air in, for Swimming, and
the like, both for Ornament and Recreation.
WE read in the Ancients
and others, that their Forefathers us'd to
de&longs;ign the Walls of their Town with abundance
of religious Rites and Ceremonies. After the
repeated taking of Au&longs;pices they yoked a Bull
and a Cow together to draw a brazen Plough,
with which they traced out the Line that was
to be the Circuit of the Wall, the Cow being
placed on the In&longs;ide, and the Bull without. The Fathers and Elders that were to dwell in
the Town followed the Plough, laying all the
Clods of Earth into the Furrow again inward,
&longs;o that none might lie &longs;cattering outward, and
when they came to tho&longs;e Places where the Gates
were to be, they lifted up the Plough and car
ried it in their Hands, that the Ground&longs;ell of
the Gates might remain untouch'd; and for
this Rea&longs;on they e&longs;teem'd the whole Circle of
the Wall to be &longs;acred, all except the Gates,
which were by no means to be called &longs;o.
In the Days of
carna&longs;&longs;us,
their Towns, u&longs;ed, after performing a Sacri&longs;ice,
to kindle Fires before their Tents, and to
make the People pa&longs;s through them, believing
that they were purged and purified by the
Flame; and they held it unlawful to admit
any Body to this Ceremony that was polluted
or unclean. This is what we find to have
been the Cu&longs;tom of tho&longs;e Nations. In other
Places they u&longs;ed to mark out the Foundation
of their Walls by &longs;trowing all the Way a Du&longs;t
made of white Earth, which they called
and
Meal. From the&longs;e Ceremonies the Diviners
took Occa&longs;ion to foretell what &longs;hould happen
in Times to come; for noting the Nativity, as
we may call it, of the City, and &longs;ome Events
that &longs;eemed to have &longs;ome Connection with it,
they imagined they might thence draw Pre
dictions of its future Succe&longs;&longs;es. The
too in the Books of their Ceremonies taught
this Art of foretelling the Fortune of Towns
from the Day of their Nativities; and this not
from the Ob&longs;ervation of the Heavens, which
we mentioned in the Second Book, but from
Principles and Conjectures founded upon
pre&longs;ent Circum&longs;tances.
that the Method they taught was this: Such
Men as happened to be born the very &longs;ame
Day that the City was begun, and lived the
Longe&longs;t of any one born on that Day, were
reckoned by their Death to put a Period to the
fir&longs;t Age of that City; next, the longe&longs;t Liver
of tho&longs;e that dwelt in the City; at that Time,
when they died concluded the &longs;econd Age;
and &longs;o for the other Ages. Then they &longs;up
po&longs;ed that the Gods generally &longs;ent Omens to
point out the Conclu&longs;ion of each particular
Age. The&longs;e were the Super&longs;titions which
they taught; and they add that the
by the&longs;e Progno&longs;ticks could certainly fix every
Age of their City, which they determined to
to be as follows; their fir&longs;t four Ages they
made an hundred Years each; the Fifth, an
hundred and Twenty-three; the Sixth, an
hundred and Twenty, and as many the
lived in under the Emperors, and the Ninth
was to come; and by the&longs;e Progno&longs;ticks they
thought it no hard Matter to di&longs;cover even the
Events of future Ages. They conjectured that
from this Symptom, namely, becau&longs;e a Man
born on the Day of her Foundation became in
Time her Ma&longs;ter. And this Man, I find, was
Nineteenth of But the
ving no Walls at all about their City; for con
fiding in the Valour and Fortitude of their
Citizens, they thought there was no Occa&longs;ion
for any Fortification be&longs;ides good Laws. The
clo&longs;ed their Cities with the &longs;tronge&longs;t Walls;
for not to mention others,
ramis
that two Chariots might pa&longs;s upon the Top
abrea&longs;t, and &longs;o high, that they were above an
hundred Cubits.
of Some again have not been &longs;atisfied with one
Wall: The
with Three; and
forti&longs;ied his Town of
was &longs;eated upon an Hill with Seven. Now
as it is certain that Walls are a very
powerful Defence both of our Per&longs;ons and
Liberties, when the Enemy happens to be
&longs;uperior either in Number or Fortune, I can
not join in with tho&longs;e who are for having their
City quite naked without any Wall, neither
with &longs;uch as &longs;eem to place all their Hopes of
Defence in their Wallalone. I agree with what
tinually expo&longs;ed to the Danger of being brought
under Subjection; &longs;ince, whether it be owing
to Nature or Cu&longs;tom, neither publick Bodies
nor private Per&longs;ons can ever &longs;et Bounds to their
in&longs;atiable De&longs;ire of getting and po&longs;&longs;e&longs;&longs;ing &longs;till
more and more; from which one Source
ari&longs;es all the Mi&longs;chiefs of War. So that what
is there to be &longs;aid again&longs;t adding Security to
Security, and Fortification to Fortification? From what has been already &longs;aid, we may
conclude that of all Cities, the mo&longs;t Capacious
is the round One; and the mo&longs;t Secure, that
which is encompa&longs;&longs;ed with Walls broken here
and there into Angles or Ba&longs;tions jutting out at
certain Di&longs;tances, as
&longs;alem
cannot come up to the Wall between two
Angles jutting out, without expo&longs;ing them
&longs;elves to very great Danger; nor can their
military Engines attack the Heads of tho&longs;e
Angles with any Hopes of Succe&longs;s. But,
however, we &longs;hould be &longs;ure to make u&longs;e of all
the natural Advantages that offer them&longs;elves
for the Security of our Town or Fortification;
as we may ob&longs;erve the Ancients did, accor
ding to the Opportunity or Nece&longs;&longs;ity of the
Situation. Thus
the
of the Shore, appears from the old Ruins
which are left, to have been built of a very
great Length.
al&longs;o to be a very long City.
City of
and three broad, running along the Side of the
River. We read that the Walls of
were &longs;quare; and tho&longs;e of
Shape of a D. But whatever Shape is cho&longs;en
for the Walls,
Service, if they are &longs;o broad, that two armed
Soldiers po&longs;ted there for Defence, may ea&longs;ily
pa&longs;s without being in one anothers Way; and
&longs;o high, that they cannot be &longs;caled with Lad
ders; and built &longs;o firm and &longs;trong, as not to
yield to the battering Rams and other En
gines. The military Engines are of two Sorts;
one Sort are tho&longs;e which break and demoli&longs;h
the Wall by Battery; the other are &longs;uch as
attack and undermine the Foundation, and &longs;o
bring down the Super&longs;tructure. Now the
greate&longs;t Security again&longs;t both the&longs;e, is not &longs;o
much a Wall as a good Ditch. The Wall is
of no U&longs;e in the la&longs;t Ca&longs;e, unle&longs;s its Founda
tion lies under Water, or upon a &longs;olid Rock. The Ditch ought to be very broad and very deep;
for then it will hinder the moveable Tortoi&longs;e
&longs;hell, Towers, or other &longs;uch Machines from ap
proaching the Wall; and when the Founda
tion is under Water, or on a Rock, it will be in
vain to think of undermining it. It is a Di&longs;
pute among the military Men, whether it is
be&longs;t for the Ditch to be full of Water, or to
be kept dry; but it is allow'd, that the fir&longs;t
Thing to be con&longs;ulted is, which is mo&longs;t for
the Health of the Inhabitants; and then &longs;ome
&longs;ay tho&longs;e Ditches are certainly be&longs;t which are
&longs;o contrived, that if by the Force of Battery
any Part of the Wall is beaten into them, it
may be &longs;oon removed, and the Ditch kept
clear, that it may not be filled up, and &longs;o
make a Path for the Enemy.
CHAP. IV.
belonging to them.
But to return to the Walls.
The Ancients
advi&longs;e us to build them after this Man
ner. Rai&longs;e two Walls one within the other,
leaving between them a Space of twenty Foot,
which Space is to be fill'd up with the Earth
dug out of the Ditch, and well ramm'd in;
and let the&longs;e Walls be built in &longs;uch a Manner,
that you may mount from the Level of the
City quite to the Top of the Battlements, by
an ea&longs;y A&longs;cent, as it were by Steps. Others
&longs;ay, that the Earth which is dug out of the
Ditch, ought to be thrown without the Wall,
on the other Side of the Ditch, and there ca&longs;t
up into a Rampart, and from the Bottom of
the Ditch a Wall &longs;hould be run up, thick
and &longs;trong enough to &longs;upport the Weight of the
afore&longs;aid Earth which bears upon it. At a
Di&longs;tance from this another Wall &longs;hould be
rai&longs;ed in the Town, higher than the other, and
as far from it, as to leave Space enough for
the Soldiers to be drawn up, and to have
Room to fight in. Be&longs;ides this, you &longs;hould
between the principal Walls, and tho&longs;e within,
erect other Walls cro&longs;&longs;ways from one to the
other, by the Help whereof, the principal
Walls may unite with tho&longs;e behind, and more
ea&longs;ily &longs;upport the Weight of the Earth ca&longs;t in
between them. But indeed for my Part, I am
be&longs;t plea&longs;ed with tho&longs;e Walls which are &longs;o
&longs;ituated, that if they happen to be at length
demoli&longs;hed by the Force of Battery, they have
&longs;omewhat of a Plain at the Foot of them,
where they may lie and form a Kind of Ram
part, and &longs;o be kept from filling up the Ditch
with their Ruins. In other Re&longs;pects I am
very well plea&longs;ed with
the Wall ought to be built thus: Within the
Body of the Wall we &longs;hould lay a good many
Timbers of Olive-wood burnt, to the Intent
that the two Sides of the Walls being fa&longs;tened
together by the&longs;e wooden Bracers, the Work
may be the more durable. Such a Wall as this,
we are told by
People of the
&longs;ieged; ina&longs;much as they mixed Timbers a
mong their Brick-work, and made a very &longs;tout
Fortification of it. And
that in
in this Manner: They laid Beams within the
Wall, and braced them together at equal Di
&longs;tances, filling up the Vacancies with huge
Stones, &longs;o that one Beam never touched the
other; and &longs;o proceeded with &longs;everal Cour&longs;es
of Work in the &longs;ame Method, till they rai&longs;ed
a Wall of a good con&longs;iderable Height. This
Kind of Work was not unhand&longs;ome to the
Sight, and was a very &longs;trong Fortification, be
cau&longs;e the Stones &longs;ecured it again&longs;t Fire, and
the Timbers again&longs;t the Battering Rams. But
this mix'd Work others di&longs;approve of; becau&longs;e
they &longs;ay the Lime and the Wood will not
long agree together, for Timber is eaten and
burnt up both by the Saltne&longs;s and Heat of the
Lime. Be&longs;ides that, if the Wall &longs;hould hap
pen to be demoli&longs;h'd by Battery, they &longs;ay,
that as it is thus made in a Manner all of one
Piece, the whole Wall will be apt to go all
together at once. In my Opinion one very
good Way of Building a &longs;trong Wall, capable
to &longs;tand the Shocks of Engines, is this: make tri
angular Projections out from the naked of the
Wall, with one Angle facing the Enemy, at the
Di&longs;tance of every ten Cubits, and turn Arches
from one Projection to the other; then fill up the
Vacancies between them with Straw and Earth,
well rammed down together. By this Means
the Force and Violence of the Shocks of the
Engines, will be deadened by the Softne&longs;s of the
Earth, and the Wall will not be weakned by
the Battery, only here and there, and tho&longs;e
&longs;mall Breaches, or rather Holes, that are made
in it, will pre&longs;ently be &longs;topt up again. In
their Pumice-&longs;tones, which they have in great
Plenty, will do extreamly well for this Kind of
Work: But in other Places, for want of Pu
mice-&longs;tones and Earth, any &longs;oft Stone may
be made u&longs;e of; nor is Terra&longs;s ami&longs;s for this
Purpo&longs;e. La&longs;tly, if any Part of &longs;uch a Struc
ture &longs;tands expo&longs;ed to the mo&longs;t &longs;outherly
Winds, or nocturnal Vapours, cloath and face
it with a Shell of Stone. And particularly it
will be of great Service to let the outer Bank
of the Ditch have a good Slope, and lie a
it: For this will baulk the Aim of the mili
tary Engines, and make them throw over the
Wall. And &longs;ome think no Wall is &longs;o &longs;afe
again&longs;t Battery, as tho&longs;e which are built in un
even Lines, like the Teeth of a Saw.
I AM very well plea&longs;ed with tho&longs;e Walls in
Top have a Walk with little private Holes,
out of which, the Archers may privately annoy
the Enemy, as he moves about the Field in
Security; and at the Di&longs;tance of every fifty
Cubits are Towers, adjoining to the Wall like
Buttre&longs;&longs;es, projecting out in a round Figure
forwards, and &longs;omewhat higher than the Wall
it&longs;elf; &longs;o that whoever offers to approach be
tween the&longs;e Towers, is expo&longs;ed to be taken in
Flank and &longs;lain; and thus the Wall is de
fended by the&longs;e Towers, and the Towers
mutually by one another. The Back of the
Towers, which look into the Town, ought to
have no Wall, but &longs;hould be left quite open
and naked; that if the Enemy &longs;hould get
Po&longs;&longs;e&longs;&longs;ion of them, they may not be &longs;afe in
them from the A&longs;&longs;aults of the Inhabitants.
THE Corni&longs;hes of the Towers and Walls,
be&longs;ides that they add to their Beauty, and are
a Ligature to &longs;trengthen their Work, do al&longs;o
by their Projection hinder the getting into the
Town from &longs;caling Ladders. Some are for
leaving Precipices of deep Holes here and there
along the Side of the Wall, and e&longs;pecially near
the Towers, &longs;ortified with wooden Bridges
which may be pre&longs;ently rai&longs;ed or let down, as
Occa&longs;ion requires.
THE Ancients u&longs;ed on each Side of their
Gates to erect two Towers, larger than the
re&longs;t, and &longs;trongly fortified on all Sides, to &longs;e
cure and protect the Entrance into the Town. There ought to be no Rooms with vaulted
Roofs in the Towers, but only wooden Floors,
that upon any Emergency may ea&longs;ily be re
moved or burnt; and tho&longs;e Floors &longs;hould not
be fa&longs;tened with Nails, that if the Enemy gets
the better, they may be taken away without
Difficulty. All that is nece&longs;&longs;ary is to have a
Covering to &longs;helter the Centinels from the
Storms and Injuries of the Weather. The
Battlements over the Gate &longs;hould have Holes
through the Bottom of them, through which,
Stones and Firebrands may be thrown down
upon the Enemy's Heads, or even Water, if
they have &longs;et Fire to the Gate; which for its
Security again&longs;t &longs;uch a Misfortune, they tell us
ought to be covered over with Leather and
Plates of Iron. But of this, enough.
CHAP. V.
In making our Gates we should ob&longs;erve, that
they ought to be ju&longs;t as many in Num
ber as the Highways, or Streets; for &longs;ome we
&longs;hall call High Streets, and others, private ones. Not that I intend to trouble my &longs;elf about the
Di&longs;tinction of the Lawyers, who &longs;ay that the
Road for Bea&longs;ts, and the Way for Men, ought
to be called by different Names: But by the
Name of Way, I &longs;hall under&longs;tand them all. The Highways are properly tho&longs;e by which
we go into the Provinces, with our Armies
and all their Baggage; for which Rea&longs;on the
Highways ought to be much broader than
others, and I find the Ancients &longs;eldom u&longs;ed
to make them le&longs;s than eight Cubits in any
Part. By a Law in the twelve Tables it was
ordained, that the Ways which ran &longs;trait
&longs;hould be twelve Foot broad, and tho&longs;e which
were crooked or winding, not le&longs;s than &longs;ixteen. The private Ways are tho&longs;e which leaving the
publick ones, lead us to &longs;ome Town or Ca&longs;tle,
or el&longs;e into &longs;ome other Highway, as Lanes in
Cities, and cro&longs;s Roads in the Country. There
are another Kind of publick Ways, which may
not improperly be called High Streets, as are
&longs;uch which are de&longs;igned for &longs;ome certain Pur
po&longs;e, e&longs;pecially any publick one; as for In
&longs;tance, tho&longs;e which lead to &longs;ome Temple, or
to the Cour&longs;e for Races, or to a Place of
Ju&longs;tice. The Ways are not to be made in the
&longs;ame Manner in the Country, that they are in
the City. In the Country they ought to be
&longs;pacious and open, &longs;o as a Man may &longs;ee all
about him; free and clear from all Manner
of Impediments, either of Water or Ruins;
without lurking Places or Retreats of any Sort
for Rogues to hide them&longs;elves in, nor too
many cro&longs;s Roads to favour their Villanies:
La&longs;tly, they ought to be as &longs;trait, and as &longs;hort as
po&longs;&longs;ible: I do not reckon the &longs;horte&longs;t Way to be
is the &longs;a&longs;e&longs;t: I would rather chu&longs;e to have it
&longs;omewhat the longer, than to have it inconveni
ent. Some think the Country of
mo&longs;t &longs;ecure of any, becau&longs;e it is cut through
with deep Roads almo&longs;t like Pits, doubtful at
the Entrance, uncertain in their Pa&longs;&longs;age, and
un&longs;afe upon Account of the Ground which lies
above them, from whence any Enemy may be
prodigiou&longs;ly in&longs;e&longs;ted.
THE Men of be&longs;t Experience think that
Way the mo&longs;t &longs;ecure, which is carried over
the Backs of &longs;mall Hills, made level. Next
to this are &longs;uch as are made through the Fields
upon a high rai&longs;ed Bank, according to the
Manner of the Ancients, who indeed upon
that Account gave them the Name of
or And it is certain &longs;uch rai&longs;ed
Cau&longs;eys have a va&longs;t many Conveniences: It
relieves the Traveller from the Fatigue and
Vexation of his Journey, to enjoy a fine Pro&longs;
pect from the Heighth of the Cau&longs;ey all the
Way as he travels; be&longs;ides that, it is a great
Convenience to be able to perceive an Enemy
at a good Di&longs;tance, and to have &longs;uch an Ad
vantage as either to be able to repel them
with a &longs;mall Force, or to retire without Lo&longs;s,
if you find they are the &longs;tronger. There is a
great Convenience, not at all foreign to our
Purpo&longs;e, which I have ob&longs;erved in the Road
that goes to the Port of As there is a
va&longs;t Concour&longs;e of People, and great Quantities
of Merchandize brought thither from
Africa, Lybia, Spain, Germany,
ands, the Road is made double, and in the
Middle of it is a Row of Stones, &longs;tanding up
a Foot high like Terms to direct the Pa&longs;&longs;en
gers to go on one Side, and return on the other,
&longs;o to avoid the Inconvenience of meeting one
another.
To conclude, &longs;uch &longs;hould be the Ways out
of the City; &longs;hort, &longs;trait, and &longs;ecure. When
they come to the Town, if the City is noble
and powerful, the Streets &longs;hould be &longs;trait and
broad, which carries an Air of Greatne&longs;s and
Maje&longs;ty; but if it is only a &longs;mall Town or a
Fortification, it will be better, and as &longs;afe, not
for the Streets to run &longs;trait to the Gates; but
to have them wind about &longs;ometimes to the
Right, &longs;ometimes to the Left, near the Wall,
and e&longs;pecially under the Towers upon the
Wall; and within the Heart of the Town, it
will be hand&longs;omer not to have them &longs;trait,
but winding about &longs;everal Ways, backwards
and &longs;orwards, like the Coar&longs;e of a River. For
thus, be&longs;ides that by appearing &longs;o much the lon
ger, they will add to the Idea of the Greatne&longs;s
of the Town, they will likewi&longs;e conduce very
much to Beauty and Convenience, and be a
greater Security again&longs;t all Accidents and
Emergencies. Moreover, this winding of the
Streets will make the Pa&longs;&longs;enger at every Step
di&longs;cover a new Structure, and the Front and
Door of every Hou&longs;e will directly face the
Middle of the Street; and whereas in larger
Towns even too much Breadth is unhand&longs;ome
and unhealthy, in a &longs;mall one it will be both
healthy and plea&longs;ant, to have &longs;uch an open
View from every Hou&longs;e by Means of the
Turn of the Street.
widened the Streets of
City hotter, and therefore le&longs;s healthy; but in
other Places, where the Streets are narrow, the
Air is crude and raw, and there is a continual
Shade even in Summer. But further; in our
winding Streets there will be no Hou&longs;e but
what, in &longs;ome Part of the Day, will enjoy
&longs;ome Sun; nor will they ever be without
gentle Breezes, which whatever Corner they
come from, will never want a free and clear
Pa&longs;&longs;age; and yet they will not be mole&longs;ted
by &longs;tormy Bla&longs;ts, becau&longs;e &longs;uch will be broken
by the turning of the Streets. Add to all
the&longs;e Advantages, that if the Enemy gets into
the Town, he will be in Danger on every Side,
in Front, in Flank, and in Rear, from A&longs;&longs;aults
from the Hou&longs;es. So much for the publick
Streets. The private ones &longs;hould be like the
publick; unle&longs;s there be this Difference, that
they be built exactly in &longs;trait Lines, which will
an&longs;wer better to the Corners of the Building,
and the Divi&longs;ions and Parts of the Hou&longs;es. The Ancients in all Towns were for having
&longs;ome intricate Ways and turn-again Streets,
without any Pa&longs;&longs;age through them, that if an
Enemy comes into them, he may be at a Lo&longs;s,
and be in Confu&longs;ion and Su&longs;pence; or if he
pu&longs;hes on daringly, may be ea&longs;ily de&longs;troyed. It is al&longs;o proper to have &longs;maller &longs;hort Streets,
running cro&longs;s from one great Street to another;
not to be as a direct publick Way, but only
as a Pa&longs;&longs;age to &longs;ome Hou&longs;e that fronts it;
which will both give Light to the Hou&longs;es, and
make it more difficult for an Enemy to over
run all Parts of the Town.
into a great Number of &longs;eparate Quarters, and
ano her.
approving of tho&longs;e Separations, that he would
have the Hou&longs;es all clo&longs;e contiguous, and
that the joyning together of their Walls &longs;hould
make a Wall to the City.
CHAP. VI.
Arches, Angles, Feet, Key-&longs;tones, Cramps, Pavements, and Slopes.
The Bridge, no doubt, is a main Part
of the Street; nor is every Part of the
City proper for a Bridge; for be&longs;ides that it
is inconvenient to place it in a remote Corner
of the Town, where it can be of U&longs;e but to
few, and that it ought to be in the very Heart
of the City, to lie at hand for every body; it
ought certainly to be contrived in a Place
where it may ea&longs;ily be erected, and without
too great an Expence, and where it is likely
to be the mo&longs;t durable. We &longs;hould therefore
chu&longs;e a Ford where the Water is not too deep;
where the Shore is not too &longs;teep; which is
not uncertain and moveable, but con&longs;tant
and la&longs;ting. We &longs;hould avoid all Whirl
pools, Eddies, Gulphs, and the like Inconve
niences common in bad Rivers. We &longs;hould
al&longs;o mo&longs;t carefully avoid all Elbows, where the
Water takes a Turn; for very many Rea&longs;ons;
the Banks in &longs;uch Places being very liable to
be broken, as we &longs;ee by Experience, and be
cau&longs;e Pieces of Timber, Trunks of Trees, and
the like, brought down from the Country by
Storms and Floods, cannot &longs;wim down &longs;uch
Elbows in a &longs;trait Line, but turn a&longs;lant, meet
and hinder one another, and lodging again&longs;t
the Piles grow into a great Heap, which &longs;tops
up the Arches, and with the additional
Weight of the Water at length quite breaks
them down.
OF Bridges, &longs;ome are of Stone, others of
Wood. We &longs;hall &longs;peak fir&longs;t of tho&longs;e which
are of Wood, as the mo&longs;t ea&longs;y of Execution;
next we &longs;hall treat of tho&longs;e which are built of
Stone. Both ought to be as &longs;trong as po&longs;&longs;ible;
that therefore which is built of Wood, mu&longs;t
be fortified with a good Quantity of the
&longs;tronge&longs;t Timbers. We cannot give a better
Example of this Sort of Bridges than that built
by
tion of him&longs;elf, as follows: He fa&longs;tened to
gether two Timbers, leaving a Di&longs;tance be
tween them of two Foot; their Length was
proportioned to the Depth of the River, and
they were a Foot and an half thick, and cut
&longs;harp at the Ends. The&longs;e he let down into
the River with Cranes, and drove them well in
with a Sort of Rammers, not perpendicularly
down like Piles, but &longs;lanting upwards, and
giving Way according to the Current of the
River. Then, oppo&longs;ite to the&longs;e, he drove in
two others, fa&longs;tened together in the &longs;ame Man
ner, with a Di&longs;tance between them at Bottom
of forty Foot, &longs;lanting contrary to the Force
and Current of the Stream. When the&longs;e were
thus fixed, he laid acro&longs;s from one to the other,
Beams of the Thickne&longs;s of two Foot, which
was the Di&longs;tance left between the Timbers
drove down; and fa&longs;tened the&longs;e Beams at the
End, each with two Braces, which being
bound round and fa&longs;tened of oppo&longs;ite Sides,
the Strength of the whole Work was &longs;o great
and of &longs;uch a Nature, that the greatcr the
Force of Water was which bore again&longs;t it,
the clo&longs;er and firmer the Beams united. Over
the&longs;e other Beams were laid acro&longs;s and fa&longs;tened
to them, and a Floor, as we may call it, made
over them with Poles and Hurdles. At the
&longs;ame Time, in the lower Part of the River,
below the Bridge, other Timbers, or &longs;loping
Piles, were driven down, which being fa&longs;tened
to the re&longs;t of the Structure, &longs;hould be a Kind
of Buttre&longs;s to re&longs;i&longs;t the Force of the Stream;
and other Piles were al&longs;o driven in at a &longs;mall
Di&longs;tance above the Bridge, and &longs;tanding &longs;ome
what above the Water, that if the Enemy
&longs;hould &longs;end Trunks of Trees, or Ve&longs;&longs;els, down
the Stream, in order to break the Bridge, tho&longs;e
Piles might receive and intercept their Vio
lence, and prevent their doing any Prejudice
to the Work. All this we learn from
Nor is it foreign to our Purpo&longs;e to take Notice
of what is practiced at
pave their wooden Bridges with Bars of Iron,
e&longs;pecially where the Wheels of Carts and Wag
gons are to pa&longs;s. It remains now that we
PLATE 9.
are the&longs;e: The Banks of the Shore, the Piers,
the Arches, and the Pavement. Between the
Banks of the Shore and the Piers, is this Diffe
rence, that the Banks ought to be by much the
&longs;tronge&longs;t, ina&longs;much as they are not only to &longs;up
port the Weight of the Arches like the Piers,
but are al&longs;o to bear the Foot of the Bridge, and
to bear again&longs;t the Weight of the Arches, to
keep them from opening in any Part. We
ought therefore to be very careful in the Choice
of our Shore, and to find out, if po&longs;&longs;ible, a
Rock of &longs;olid Stone, &longs;ince nothing can be too
&longs;trong that we are to intru&longs;t with the Feet of
the Bridge; and as to the Piers, they mu&longs;t be
more or le&longs;s numerous in Proportion to the
Breadth of the River. An odd Number of Ar
ches is both mo&longs;t plea&longs;ant to the Sight, and
conduces al&longs;o to Strength; for the farther the
Current of the River lies from the Shore, the
freer it is from Impediment, and the freer
it is the &longs;wifter and ea&longs;ier it flows away;
for this therefore we ought to leave a Pa&longs;&longs;age
perfectly free and open, that it may not &longs;hake
and prejudice the Piers by &longs;truggling with the
Re&longs;i&longs;tance which it meets with from them. The Piers ought to be placed in tho&longs;e Parts of
the River, where the Water flows the mo&longs;t
&longs;lowly, and (to u&longs;e &longs;uch an Expre&longs;&longs;ion) the
mo&longs;t lazily: And tho&longs;e Parts you may ea&longs;ily
find out by means of the Tides: Otherwi&longs;e
you may di&longs;cover them in the following Man
ner: Imitate tho&longs;e who threw Nuts into a
River, whereby the Inhabitants of a Town be
&longs;ieged, gathering them up, were pre&longs;erved
from &longs;tarving; &longs;trew the whole Breadth of the
River, about fifteen hundred Paces above the
Place which you intend for your Bridge, and
e&longs;pecially when the River is fulle&longs;t, with &longs;ome
&longs;uch light Stuff that will ea&longs;ily float: And in
tho&longs;e Places where the Things you have
thrown in Clu&longs;ters thicke&longs;t together, you may
be &longs;ure the Current is &longs;tronge&longs;t. In the Situ
ation of your Piers therefore avoid tho&longs;e Places,
and chu&longs;e tho&longs;e others to which the Things
you throw in come the &longs;lowe&longs;t and thinne&longs;t.
KING
Bridge of
Channel, and carried it another Way among
&longs;ome Hills, and when he had fini&longs;hed his Build
ing brought it back again into its old Bed.
pared all the Materials for building a Bridge,
dug a great Lake, and into that turned the
River; and as the Channel grew dry as the
Lake filled, &longs;he took that Time to build her
Piers. The&longs;e mighty Things were done by
tho&longs;e great Princes: As for us, we are to pro
ceed in the following Manner: Make the
Foundations of your Piers in Autumn, when
the Water is lowe&longs;t, having fir&longs;t rai&longs;ed an In
clo&longs;ure to keep off the Water, which you may
do in this Manner: Drive in a double Row of
Stakes, very clo&longs;e and thick &longs;et, with their
Heads above the Top of the Water, like a
Trench; then put Hurdles within this double
Row of Stakes, clo&longs;e to that Side of the Row
which is next the intended Pier, and fill up
the Hollow between the two Rows with Ru&longs;hes
and Mud, ramming them together &longs;o hard
that no Water can po&longs;&longs;ibly get through. Then
whatever you find within this Inclo&longs;ure, Water,
Mud, Sand, and whatever el&longs;e is a Hindrance
to you, throw out. For the re&longs;t of your Work,
you mu&longs;t ob&longs;erve the Rules we have laid down
in the preceding Book. Dig till you come to
a &longs;olid Foundation, or rather make one of
Piles burnt at the End, and driven in as clo&longs;e
together as ever they can &longs;tick. And here I
have ob&longs;erved that the be&longs;t Architects u&longs;ed to
make a continued Foundation of the whole
Length of the Bridge, and not only under each
Pier; and this they did, not by &longs;hutting out
the whole River at once by one &longs;ingle Inclo
&longs;ure, but by fir&longs;t making one Part, then another,
and &longs;o joyning the whole together by degrees;
for it would be impo&longs;&longs;ible to with&longs;tand and
repul&longs;e the whole Force of the Water at once;
we mu&longs;t therefore, while we are at work with
one Part, leave another Part open, for a Pa&longs;
&longs;age for the Stream.
YOU may leave the&longs;e Pa&longs;&longs;ages either in the
Channel it&longs;elf, or if you think it more conve
nient, you may frame wooden Dams, or hang
ing Channels, by which the &longs;uperfluous Wa
ter may run off. But if you find the Expence
of a continued Foundation for the whole Bridge
too great, you may only make a &longs;eparate Foun
dation for every particular Pier, in the Form
of a Ship with one Angle in the Stern, and an
other in the Head, lying directly even with the
Current of the Water, that the Force of the
Water may be broken by the Angle. We are
to remember that the Water is much more
dangerous to the Stern, than to the Head of
the Piers, which appears from this, that at
the Stern the Water is in a more violent Mo
tion than at the Head, and forms Eddies,
which turn up the Ground at the Bottom;
while the Head &longs;tands firm and &longs;afe, being
guarded and defended by the Banks of Sand
thrown up before it by the Channel. Now
Structure to be be&longs;t fortified again&longs;t the
Violence of the Waters; and nothing will
conduce more to this, than to make the Pile
work deep and broad every Way, and e&longs;peci
ally at the Stern, that if any Accidents &longs;hould
carry away any of the Piles, there may be enow
le&longs;t to &longs;u&longs;tain the Weight of the Pier. It will
be al&longs;o extremely proper to begin your Foun
dation at the upper Part of the Channel, and
to make it with an ea&longs;y De&longs;cent, that the
Water which runs over it may not fall upon
it violently as into a Precipice, but glide over
gently, with an ea&longs;y Slope; becau&longs;e the Water
that ru&longs;hes down precipitately, routs up the
Bottom, and &longs;o being made &longs;till rougher carries
away every Thing that it can loo&longs;en, and is
every Moment undermining the Work.
BUILD the Piers of the bigge&longs;t and longe&longs;t
Stones, and of &longs;uch as in their Nature are be&longs;t
adapted for &longs;upporting of Fro&longs;ts, and as do
not decay in Water, nor are ea&longs;ily &longs;oftened by
any Accident, and will not crack and &longs;plit
under a great Weight; and build them ex
actly according to the Square, Level and Plum
line, omitting no Sort of Ligature Length
ways, and placing the Stones Breadth-ways in
alternate Order, &longs;o as to be a Binding one to
another; ab&longs;olutely rejecting any &longs;tuffing with
&longs;mall Pieces of Stone. You mu&longs;t al&longs;o fa&longs;ten
your Work with a good Number of Bra&longs;s
Cramps and Pins, &longs;o well fitted in, that the
Joynts of the Structure may not &longs;eparate, but
be kept tight and firm. Rai&longs;e both the Fronts
of the Building angular, both Head and Stern,
and let the Top of the Pier be &longs;ure to be
higher than the fulle&longs;t Tide; and let the Thick
ne&longs;s of the Pier be one fourth of the Heighth
of the Bridge. There have been &longs;ome that
have not terminated the Head and Stern of
their Piers with an Angle, but with an half
Circle; induced thereto, I &longs;uppo&longs;e, by the
Beautifulne&longs;s of that Figure. But though I
have &longs;aid el&longs;ewhere, that the Circle has the
&longs;ame Strength as an Angle, yet here I approve
better of an Angle, provided it be not &longs;o &longs;harp
as to be broken and defaced by every little Acci
dent: Nor am I altogether di&longs;plea&longs;ed with tho&longs;e
which end in a Curve, provided it be very much
lengthened out, and not left &longs;o obtu&longs;e as to re
&longs;i&longs;t the Force and Weight of the Water. The
Angle of the Pier is of a good Sharpne&longs;s, if it
is three Quarters of a Right Angle, or if you
like it better, you may make it two thirds. And thus much may &longs;uffice as to the Piers.
If
the Nature of your Situation is &longs;uch, that the
Sides or Banks of the Shore are not as you
could wi&longs;h; make them good in the &longs;ome Man
ner as you build your Piers, and indeed make
other Piers upon the Shore, and turn &longs;ome
Arches even upon the dry Ground; to the
Intent, that if in Proce&longs;s of Time, by the con
tinual wa&longs;hing of the Water, and the Force of
the Tides, any Part of the Bank &longs;hould be
carried away, your Pa&longs;&longs;age may &longs;till be pre
&longs;erved &longs;afe, by the Production of the Bridge
into the Land. The Arches ought upon all
Accounts, and particularly becau&longs;e of the con
tinual violent &longs;haking and Concu&longs;&longs;ion of Carts
and other Carriages, to be extreamly &longs;tout and
&longs;trong. Be&longs;ides, as &longs;ometimes you may be
obliged to draw immen&longs;e Weights over them,
&longs;uch as a Colo&longs;&longs;us, an Obelisk or the like; you
&longs;hould provide again&longs;t the Inconvenience which
happened to
moving that great Boundary Stone, alarmed all
the publick Officers, upon Account of the
Mi&longs;chief that might en&longs;ue. For the&longs;e Rea&longs;ons,
a Bridge both in its De&longs;ign, and in its whole
Execution, &longs;hould be well fitted to bear the
continual and violent Jars which it is to re
ceive from Carriages. That Bridges ought to
be built of very large and &longs;tout Stones, is very
manife&longs;t by the Example of an Anvil, which,
if is large and heavy, &longs;tands the Blows of the
Hammer unmoved; but if it is light, rebounds
and trembles at every Stroke. We have al
ready &longs;aid, that all vaulted Work con&longs;i&longs;ts of
Arches and Stuffing, and that the &longs;tronge&longs;t of
all Arches is the Semi-circle. But if by the
Di&longs;po&longs;ition of the Piers, the Semi-circle &longs;hould
ri&longs;e &longs;o high as to be inconvenient, we may
make u&longs;e of the Scheme Arch, only taking
Care to make the la&longs;t Piers on the Shore the
&longs;tronger and thicker. But whatever Sort of
Arch you vault your Bridge with, it mu&longs;t be
built of the harde&longs;t and large&longs;t Stones, &longs;uch as
you u&longs;e in your Piers; and there &longs;hould not
be a &longs;ingle Stone in the Arch but what is in
Thickne&longs;s at lea&longs;t one tenth Part of the Chord
of that Arch; nor &longs;hould the Chord it&longs;elf be
longer than &longs;ix Times the Thickne&longs;s of the
Pier, nor &longs;horter than four Times. The Stones
al&longs;o &longs;hould be &longs;trongly fa&longs;tened together with
Pins and Cramps of Bra&longs;s. And the la&longs;t Wedge,
which is called the Key-&longs;tone, &longs;hould be cut
according to the Lines of the other Wedges,
but left a &longs;mall Matter bigger at the Top, &longs;o
that it may not be got into its Place without
&longs;ome Strokes of a light Beetle; which will
&longs;o keep them tight to their Duty. The filling
up, or &longs;tuffing between the Arches &longs;hould be
wrought with the &longs;tronge&longs;t Stone, and with the
clo&longs;e&longs;t Joynts that can po&longs;&longs;ibly be made, But
if you have not a &longs;ufficient Plenty of &longs;trong
Stone to make your Stuffing of it, you may in
Ca&longs;e of Nece&longs;&longs;ity make u&longs;e of a weaker Sort;
&longs;till provided that the whole Turn of the Arch,
and the Cour&longs;e of Work behind both the Sides
of it, be built entirely of &longs;trong Stone.
THE next Work it to pave the Bridge; and
here we &longs;hould ob&longs;erve, that we ought to
make the Ground upon a Bridge as firm and
&longs;olid as the mo&longs;t durable Roads; we &longs;hould
rai&longs;e it with Gravel or coar&longs;e Sand, to the
Heighth of a Cubit, and then pave it with
Stone, filling up the Joints either with River
or Sea-&longs;and. But the Sub&longs;trature or Layer
under the Pavement of a Bridge ought fir&longs;t to
be levelled and rai&longs;ed quite to the Top of the
Arches; with regular Ma&longs;onry, and then the
Pavement it&longs;elf &longs;hould be cemented with Mor
tar. In all other Re&longs;pects we &longs;hould ob&longs;erve
the &longs;ame Rules in paving a Bridge, as in pav
ing a Road. The Sides &longs;hould be made firm
with the &longs;tronge&longs;t Work, and the re&longs;t paved
with Stones, neither &longs;o &longs;mall as to be ea&longs;ily
rai&longs;ed and thrown out upon the lea&longs;t Strain;
nor &longs;o large, that the Bea&longs;ts of Burden &longs;hould
&longs;lide upon them as upon Ice, and fall before
they meet with any Catch for their Foot. And
certainly we mu&longs;t own it to be of very great
Importance what Kind of Stone we u&longs;e in our
Pavements, if we con&longs;ider how much they
mu&longs;t be worn by the continual grinding of
the Wheels, and the Hoofs of all Manner of
Cattle, when we &longs;ee that even &longs;uch &longs;mall Ani
mals as Ants, with con&longs;tant pa&longs;&longs;ing up and
down, will wear Traces even in Flints.
I HAVE ob&longs;erved that the Ancients in many
Places, and particularly in the Way to
paved the Middle of the Road with Flints, and
only covered the Sides with &longs;mall Gravel. This
they did, that the Wheels might make the le&longs;s
Impre&longs;&longs;ion, and that the Hor&longs;es Hoofs might
not want &longs;ufficient Hold. In other Places, and
e&longs;pecially over Bridges, there was a rai&longs;ed Way
on each Side, with Stone Steps, for Foot Pa&longs;
&longs;engers; and the Middle of the Way was le&longs;t
for Bea&longs;ts and Carriages. La&longs;tly, the Ancients,
for this Sort of Work greatly commend Flints,
and e&longs;pecially tho&longs;e which are fulle&longs;t of Holes;
not becau&longs;e &longs;uch are the &longs;tronge&longs;t, but becau&longs;e
they are the lea&longs;t &longs;lippery. But we may make
u&longs;e of any Sort of Stone, according to what
we have in greate&longs;t Plenty, provided we only
u&longs;e the &longs;tronge&longs;t we can get, and with tho&longs;e
pave at lea&longs;t that Part of the Way which is
mo&longs;t beaten by Cattle; and the Part mo&longs;t
beaten by them is always mo&longs;t level, becau&longs;e
they always avoid all &longs;loping Ground as much
as they can. Let the Middle and highe&longs;t Part
of the Way be laid with Flints, or whatever
other Stone you u&longs;e, of the Thickne&longs;s of a
Foot and an half, and the Breadth of at lea&longs;t
a Foot, with the upper Face even, and &longs;o clo&longs;e
compacted together that there are no Grevices
left in order to throw off the Rain. There
are three different Slopes for all Streets; either
towards the Middle, which is proper for a
broad Street, or to the Sides, which is lea&longs;t
Hindrance to a narrow one; or el&longs;e Length
ways. But in this we are to govern our&longs;elves
according to the Conveniences and Advanta
ges of our Drains and Currents, whether into
the Sea, Lake or River. A very good Ri&longs;e
for a Slope is half an Inch in every three Foot. I have ob&longs;erved that the Ri&longs;e with which the
Ancients u&longs;ed to build their Bridges, was one
Foot in every thirty; and in &longs;ome Parts, as
particularly at the Summit of the Bridge, four
Inches in every Cubit or Foot and an half;
but this was only for &longs;o little a Way, that a
Bea&longs;t heavy loaden could get over it at one
Strain.
CHAP. VII.
Canals for Ships.
Drains or Sewers are look'd upon as
a Part of the Street, ina&longs;much as they
are to be made under the Street, thro' the
Middle of it; and are of great Service, as well
in the paving and levelling, as in cleaning the
Streets; for which Rea&longs;on they are by no
means to be neglected here. And indeed, may
we not very properly &longs;ay that a Drain is a
in the Con&longs;truction of it we ought to ob&longs;erve
all the &longs;ame Rules that we have ju&longs;t now been
laying down concerning Bridges. The Anci
ents had &longs;o high a Notion of the Serviceable
ne&longs;s of Drains and Sewers, that they be&longs;towed
no greater Care and Expence upon any Struc
ture what&longs;oever, than they did upon them; and
among all the wonderful Buildings in the City
of I &longs;hall not &longs;pend Time to &longs;hew how many Con
veniences ari&longs;e from good Drains; how clean
they keep the City, and how neat all Buildings
both publick and private, or how much they
conduce to the Clearne&longs;s and Healthine&longs;s of
the Air.
THE City of
be&longs;ieged and relieved by
been extremely beautiful, both for the Straitne&longs;s
of the Streets, and its many noble Structures;
but not having Drains to receive and carry away
its own Filth, it offended the Inhabitants abo
minable with ill Smells.
cany,
Help to Cleanline&longs;s; by which Means the
Town not only &longs;tinks every Night and Morn
ing, when People throw their Na&longs;tine&longs;s out of
the Windows, but even in the Day Time it is
&longs;een lying about the Streets. Drains are of
two Sorts; one carries away the Filth into
&longs;ome River, Lake or Sea; the other is a deep
Hole dug in the Ground, where the Na&longs;tine&longs;s
lies till it is con&longs;umed in the Bowels of the
Earth. That which carries it away, ought
to have a &longs;mooth &longs;loping Pavement, &longs;trong
compacted, that the Ordure may run off freely,
and that the Structure it&longs;elf may not be rotted
by the Moi&longs;ture lying continually &longs;oaking
upon it. It &longs;hould al&longs;o lie &longs;o high above the
River, that no Floods or Tides may fill it with
Mud and choak it up. A Drain that is to
lie open and uncover'd to the Air, need have
no other Pavement but the Ground it&longs;elf; for
the Poets call the Earth
lo&longs;ophers, the
vours and con&longs;umes every Thing. So that
whatever Filth and Na&longs;tine&longs;s is brought into
it, the Earth rots and de&longs;troys it, and prevents
its emitting ill Steams. Sinks for the Recep
tion of Urine, &longs;hould be as far from the Hou&longs;e
as po&longs;&longs;ible; becau&longs;e the Heat of the Sun makes
it rot and &longs;mell intolerably. Moreover, I can
not help thinking that Rivers and Canals, e&longs;
pecially &longs;uch as are for the Pa&longs;&longs;age of Ships,
ought to be included under the Denomination
of Roads; &longs;ince many are of Opinion, that
Ships are nothing but a Sort of Carriages, and
the Sea it&longs;elf no more than a huge Road. But
there is no Nece&longs;&longs;ity to &longs;ay any thing more of
the&longs;e in this Place. And if it happens that
the Conveniences we have here treated of, are
not found &longs;ufficient, our Bu&longs;ine&longs;s is to &longs;tudy
how to mend the Faults, and make whatever
other Additions are needful: The Method of
doing which, we &longs;hall &longs;peak of in due Time.
CHAP. VIII.
the City.
Now if there is any other Part of the
City that falls in properly with the Sub
ject of this Book, it is certainly the Haven,
which may be defined a Goal or proper Place
from whence you may begin a Voyage, or
where having performed it you may put an
End to the Fatigue of it, and take Repo&longs;e. Others perhaps would &longs;ay that a Haven is a Sta
ble for Ships; but let it be what you will, ei
ther a Goal, a Stable, or a Receptacle, it is cer
tain that if the Bu&longs;ine&longs;s of a Haven is to give a
Reception to Ships out of the Violence of Storms,
it ought to be made in &longs;uch a Manner as to be
a &longs;ufficient Shelter for that Purpo&longs;e: Let its
Sides be &longs;trong and high, and let there be
Room enough for large Ve&longs;&longs;els heavy laden to
come in and lie quiet in it. Which Conveni
ences, if they are offered to you by the natu
ral Situation of the Place, you have nothing
more to wi&longs;h for; unle&longs;s, as at
by Nature, it &longs;hould happen that you are
doubtful among &longs;uch a Number, which to
chu&longs;e. But it is evident from what we have
already &longs;aid in the fir&longs;t Book, that there are
&longs;ome Places where all the Winds cannot be,
and others where &longs;ome actually are continually
trouble&longs;ome and dangerous. Let us therefore
none blow but the mo&longs;t gentle and temperate
Winds, and where you may enter or go out,
with the mo&longs;t ea&longs;y Breezes, without being
forced to wait too long for them.
THEY &longs;ay, that of all Winds the North is
the gentle&longs;t; and that when the Sea is di
&longs;turbed by this Wind, as &longs;oon as ever the
Wind cea&longs;es, it is calm again: But if a South
wind rai&longs;es a Storm, the Sea continues turbu
lent a long while. But as Places are various,
our Bu&longs;ine&longs;s is to chu&longs;e &longs;uch a one as is be&longs;t
provided with all Conveniencies for Shipping:
we mu&longs;t be &longs;ure to have &longs;uch a Depth, in the
Mouth, Bo&longs;em and Sides of the Haven, as
will nor refu&longs;e Ships of Burthen, though
ever &longs;o deep laden; the Bottom too ought to
be clear, and not &longs;ull of any Sort of Weeds:
Though, &longs;ometimes, thick entangled Weeds
are of a good deal of U&longs;e in fa&longs;tening the An
chor. Yet I &longs;hould rather chu&longs;e an Haven
that does not produce any thing which can
contaminate the Purity of the Air, or preju
dice the Ships, as Ru&longs;hes and Weeds which
grow in the Water really do; for they en
gender a great many Kinds of Worms which
get into the Timbers of the Ve&longs;&longs;el, and the
rotting of the Weeds rai&longs;es unwhole&longs;ome Va
pours. There is another Thing which makes
an Haven noi&longs;ome and unhealthy, and that is
a Mixture of fre&longs;h Water; e&longs;pecially Rain
water that runs down from Hills: Though I
would be &longs;ure to have Streams and Springs in
the Neighbourhood, from whence, fre&longs;h Water
that will keep may be brought for the U&longs;e of
the Ve&longs;&longs;els. A Port al&longs;o ought to have a clear,
&longs;trait and &longs;afe Pa&longs;&longs;age outwards, with a Bot
tom not often &longs;hifting, free from all Impedi
ments, and &longs;ecure from the Ambu&longs;hes of Ene
mies and Pirates. Moreover, I would have
it covered with &longs;ome high &longs;teep Hill, that may
be &longs;een a great Way off, and &longs;erve as a Land
mark for the Sailors to &longs;teer their Cour&longs;e by. Within the Port we &longs;hould make a Key and
a Bridge for the more ea&longs;y unlading of the
Shipping. The&longs;e Works the Ancients rai&longs;ed
in different Ways, which it is not yet our
Time to &longs;peak of; and we &longs;hall come to it
more properly when we &longs;peak of the Method
of improving a Haven and running up a Pier. Be&longs;ides all this, a good Haven &longs;hould have
Places to walk in, and a Portico and Temple,
for the Reception of Per&longs;ons that are ju&longs;t
landed; nor &longs;hould it want Pillars, Bars and
Rings to fa&longs;ten Ships to; and there &longs;hould al&longs;o
be a good Number of Warehou&longs;es or Vaults
for the laying up of Goods. We &longs;hould al&longs;o
at the Mouth erect high and &longs;trong Towers,
from the Lanterns of which we may &longs;py what
Sails approach, and by Fires give Directions to
the Mariners, and which by their Fortificati
ons may defend the Ve&longs;&longs;els of our Friends, and
lay Chains acro&longs;s the Port to keep out an
Enemy. And from the Port &longs;trait thro' the
Heart of the City ought to run a large Street,
in which &longs;everal other Quarters of the Town
&longs;hould center, that the Inhabitants may pre
&longs;ently run thither from all Parts to repul&longs;e any
In&longs;ult from an Enemy. Within the Bo&longs;om of
the Haven likewi&longs;e, &longs;hould be &longs;everal &longs;maller
Docks, where battered Ve&longs;&longs;els may refit. But
there is one Thing which we ought not to
omit, &longs;ince it relates entirely to the Haven;
which is, that there have been, and now are,
many famous Cities, who&longs;e greate&longs;t Security
has lain in the un&longs;afe and uncertain Entrance
of their Harbours, and from the Variety of its
Channels made almo&longs;t hourly for the con
tinual Alteration of the Bottom. Thus much
we thought proper to &longs;ay of publick Works in
the univer&longs;al Acceptation; and I cannot tell
whether there is any Occa&longs;ion to add what
&longs;ome in&longs;i&longs;t upon, that there ought to be &longs;e
veral Squares laid out in different Parts of the
City, &longs;ome for the expo&longs;ing of Merchandizes
to &longs;ale in Time of Peace; others for the Exer
ci&longs;es proper for Youth; and others for laying
up Stores in Time of War, of Timber, For
age, and the like Provi&longs;ions nece&longs;&longs;ary for the
&longs;u&longs;taining of a Siege. As for Temples, Cha
pels, Halls for the Admini&longs;tration of Ju&longs;tice,
and Places for Shows, they are Buildings that,
tho' for publick U&longs;e, are yet the Property of
only a few Per&longs;ons; which are the Prie&longs;ts
and Magi&longs;trates; and therefore we &longs;hall treat
of them in their proper Places.
THE
ARCHITECTURE
OF
BOOK V. CHAP. I.
Of the Ca&longs;tles or Habitations of a
King or a Tyrant; their different Properties and Parts.
We &longs;hewed in the la&longs;t Book, that
Buildings ought to be variou&longs;ly ac
commodated, both in City and
Country, according to the Nece&longs;&longs;i
ties of the Citizens and Inhabitants; and that
&longs;ome belong'd to the Citizens in common,
others to tho&longs;e of greater Quality, and others
to the meaner Sort; and fini&longs;h'd our Account
of tho&longs;e of the fir&longs;t Kind. The De&longs;ign of this
fifth Book is to con&longs;ider of the &longs;upplying the
Nece&longs;&longs;aries and Conveniencies for particular
Per&longs;ons. And in this copious and difficult
Subject we &longs;hall make it our Study, to the ut
mo&longs;t of our Ability and Indu&longs;try, to omit
nothing really material or in&longs;tructive, and not
to &longs;ay any thing more for the Embelli&longs;hment
of our Di&longs;cour&longs;e than for the nece&longs;&longs;ary Expla
nation of our Subject. Let us begin therefore
with the noble&longs;t. The noble&longs;t are certainly
tho&longs;e who are entru&longs;ted with the &longs;upreme Au
thority and Moderation in publick Affairs. This is &longs;ometimes a &longs;ingle Per&longs;on, and &longs;ome
times Many. If it is a &longs;ingle Per&longs;on, that Per
&longs;on ought certainly to be him that has the
greate&longs;t Merit. We &longs;hall therefore fir&longs;t con
&longs;ider what is nece&longs;&longs;ary to be done for one that
has the &longs;ole Power in him&longs;elf. But we mu&longs;t
previou&longs;ly enquire into one very material Dif
&longs;erence; what Kind of a Governour this is;
whether one that with Ju&longs;tice and Integrity
rules over willing Subjects; one not guided &longs;o
much by his own Intere&longs;t, as the Good and
Welfare of his People: or &longs;uch a one as would
have Things &longs;o contrived with Relation to his
Subjects, that he may be able to continue his
Dominion over them, let them be ever &longs;o unea&longs;y
under it. For the Generality of particular
Buildings, and the City it&longs;elf ought to be laid
out differently for a Tyrant, from what they
are for tho&longs;e who enjoy and protect a Govern
ment as if it were a Magi&longs;tracy voluntarily put
into their Hands. A good King takes Care to
have his City &longs;trongly fortified in tho&longs;e Parts,
which are mo&longs;t liable to be a&longs;&longs;aulted by a foreign
Enemy: a Tyrant, having no le&longs;s Danger to
fear from his Subjects than from Strangers, mu&longs;t
fortify his City no le&longs;s again&longs;t his own People,
than again&longs;t Foreigners: and his Fortifications
mu&longs;t be &longs;o contrived, that upon Occa&longs;ion he
may employ the A&longs;&longs;i&longs;tance of Strangers again&longs;t
his own People, and of one Part of his People
again&longs;t the other. In the preceding Book, we
&longs;hewed how a City ought to be fortified again&longs;t
foreign Enemies: Let us here con&longs;ider how it is
to be provided again&longs;t the Inhabitants them
&longs;elves.
very powerful Enemy, and that if they added
would be irre&longs;i&longs;tible. The politick Kings of
thought it was extremely healthy and flouri&longs;h
ing, when no more than a thou&longs;and People died
in a Day, divided it by &longs;o many Cuts and Chan
nels, that it &longs;eemed not to be one &longs;ingle City,
but a great Number of &longs;mall Towns lying toge
ther. This I &longs;uppo&longs;e they did, not &longs;o much
that the Conveniencies of the River might be
equally di&longs;tributed, as to &longs;ecure them&longs;elves
again&longs;t the popular Commotions of a great
Multitude, and that if any &longs;uch &longs;hould happen,
they might the more ca&longs;ily &longs;uppre&longs;s them: ju&longs;t
as if a Man out of one huge Colo&longs;&longs;us, &longs;hould
make two or more Statues, that he might be better
able to manage or remove them. The
never u&longs;ed to &longs;end a Senator into
Procon&longs;ular Authority, to govern the whole
Province; but only &longs;ome Knights, with Com
mi&longs;&longs;ion to govern &longs;eparate Parts of it. And
this they did, as we are informed by
Intent that a Province &longs;o inclined to Tumults
and Innovations, might not be under the Care
of a &longs;ingle Per&longs;on: and they ob&longs;erved that no
City was more exempt from Di&longs;cord, than tho&longs;e
which were divided by Nature, either by a Ri
ver flowing thro' the Middle of it, or by a Num
ber of little &longs;eparate Hills; or by being built
one Part upon a Hill, and the other upon a
Plain, with a Wall between them. And this
Wall or Divi&longs;ion, I think, ought not to bedrawn
like a Diameter clear thro'the Area, but ought
rather to be made to enclo&longs;e one Circle within
another: for the richer Sort, de&longs;iring a more
open Space and more Room, will ea&longs;ily con&longs;ent
to be &longs;hut out of the inner Circle, and will be
very willing to leave the Middle of the Town,
to Cooks, Victuallers and other &longs;uch Trades;
and all the &longs;coundrel Rabble belonging to
rence's
the like, will be le&longs;s dangerous there than if
they were not to live &longs;eparate from the nobler
Citizens. Nor is it &longs;oreign to our Purpo&longs;e
what we read in
commanded the
tain Part of the Town, where if they offered
at any Di&longs;turbance, he was immediately ready
to quell them from a &longs;uperior Situation. This
Wall within the City ought to run thro' every
Di&longs;trict of the Town; and it &longs;hould be built &longs;o
&longs;trong and thick in all Re&longs;pects, and be rai&longs;ed
&longs;o high (as indeed &longs;o ought all the other City
Walls) that it may overlook all the private
Hou&longs;es. It &longs;hould al&longs;o be fortified with Bat
tlements and Towers; and a good Ditch on
both Sides would not be ami&longs;s; that your Men
may the more ea&longs;ily defend it on any Side. The Towers upon this Wall ought not to be
open on the In&longs;ide, but walled up quite round;
and they &longs;hould be &longs;o &longs;eated as not only to re
pul&longs;e the A&longs;&longs;aults of a foreign Enemy, but of
Dome&longs;tick one too upon Occa&longs;ion; and particu
larly they ought to command the great Streets,
and the Tops of all high Temples. I would
have no Pa&longs;&longs;age into the&longs;e Towers but from off
the Wall it&longs;elf; nor any Way up to the
Wall but what is entirely in the Power of the
Prince. There &longs;hould be no Arches nor Tow
ers in the Streets that lead from the Fortre&longs;s
into the City; nor Leads or Terra&longs;&longs;es from
whence the Soldiers may be mole&longs;ted with
Stones or Darts as they pa&longs;s to their Duty. In
a Word, the whole &longs;hould be &longs;o contrived that
every Place, which any Way commands the
Town, &longs;hould be in the Hands of the Prince;
and that it &longs;hould not be in the Power of any
Per&longs;on what&longs;oever, to prevent his Men from
over-running the whole City as he plea&longs;es. And herein the City of a Tyrant differs from
that of a King; and perhaps they differ too in
this, that a Town in a Plain is mo&longs;t conveni
ent for a free People; but one upon a Hill the
&longs;afe&longs;t &longs;or a Tyrant. The other Edifices for
the Habitation both for King and Tyrant, are
not only the &longs;ame in mo&longs;t re&longs;pects, but al&longs;o
differ very little from the Hou&longs;es of private
Per&longs;ons: And in &longs;ome Particulars they differ
both from one another, and from the&longs;e latter
too. We &longs;hall &longs;peak fir&longs;t of tho&longs;e Things
wherein they agree; and of their Peculiarities
afterwards. This Sort of Buildings is &longs;aid to
have been invented only for Nece&longs;&longs;ity: Yet
there are &longs;ome Parts of them which &longs;erve be
&longs;ides to Conveniency, that by U&longs;e and Habit
&longs;eem to be grown as nece&longs;&longs;ary as any: Such as
Porticoes, Places for taking the Air in, and the
like: Which, though Method may &longs;eem to re
quire it, I &longs;hall not di&longs;tingui&longs;h &longs;o nicely, as to
divide what is convenient from what is nece&longs;
&longs;ary: But &longs;hall only &longs;ay, that as in the City it
&longs;elf, &longs;o in the&longs;e Particular Structures, &longs;ome
Parts belong to the whole Hou&longs;hold, &longs;ome to
the U&longs;es of a few, and others to that of a &longs;ingle
Per&longs;on.
CHAP. II.
doors, concealed Pa&longs;&longs;ages and private Apartments; and wherein the Hou&longs;es
of Princes differ from tho&longs;e of private Men; as al&longs;o of the &longs;eparate and
common Apartments for the Prince and his Spou&longs;e.
I do not think the Portico and Ve&longs;tibule
were made only for the Conveniency of
Servants, as
common U&longs;e of the Citizens: But Places for
walking in within the Hou&longs;e, the inner Court
yard, the Hall (which I believe took its Name
from Dancing, becau&longs;e Nuptials and Fea&longs;ts
are celebrated in it) do not belong at all to the
Publick, but entirely to the Inhabitants. Par
lours for eating in are of two Sorts, &longs;ome for
the Ma&longs;ter, and others for the Servants: Bed
chambers are for the Matrons, Virgins, Gue&longs;ts,
and are to be &longs;eparate for each. Of the uni
ver&longs;al Divi&longs;ion of the&longs;e, we have already treat
ed in our fir&longs;t Book of De&longs;igns, as far as was
nece&longs;&longs;ary under a general Title: We &longs;hall now
proceed to &longs;hew the Number of all the&longs;e, their
Proportions, and proper Situations for the great
e&longs;t Convenience of the Inhabitants. The Por
tico and Ve&longs;tibule are adorned by the Noble
ne&longs;s of Entrance; the Entrance is adorned by
the View which it has before it, and by the
Magnificence of its Workman&longs;hip. Then the
inner Rooms for eating, laying up all Manner
of Nece&longs;&longs;aries, and the like, ought to be &longs;o
contrived and &longs;ituated, that the Things pre
&longs;erved in them may be well kept, that there be
no want of Sun or Air, and that they have all
Manner of proper Conveniencies, and be kept
di&longs;tinct, &longs;o that too great Familarity may not
le&longs;&longs;en the Dignity, Conveniency or Plea&longs;ure of
Gue&longs;ts, nor encourage the Impertinence of
Per&longs;ons that pay their Attendance to you. And indeed Ve&longs;tibules, Halls, and the like
Places of publick Reception in Hou&longs;es, ought
to be like Squares and other open Places in
Cities; not in a remote private Corner, but in
the Center and the mo&longs;t publick Place, where all
the other Members may readily meet: For here
all Lobbies and Stair-ca&longs;es are to terminate;
here you meet and receive your Gue&longs;ts. More
over, the Hou&longs;e &longs;hould not have above one
Entrance, to the Intent that nobody may come
in, nor any thing be carried out, without the
Knowledge of the Porter. Take Care too,
that the Windows and Doors do not lie handy
for Thieves, nor be &longs;o open to the Neighbours
that they can interrupt, or &longs;ee or hear what is
&longs;aid or done in the Hou&longs;e. The
built their private Hou&longs;es without any Win
dows outwards. Some perhaps may be for
having a Back-gate to which the Fruits of the
Harve&longs;t may be brought home, either in Carts
or on Hor&longs;es, and not make a Na&longs;tine&longs;s before
the principal Entrance; as al&longs;o a &longs;maller pri
vate Door, at which the Ma&longs;ter of the Hou&longs;e,
without the Knowledge of any of his Family,
may receive any private Me&longs;&longs;ages or Advices,
and go out him&longs;elf, as his Occa&longs;ions call him. I have nothing to &longs;ay again&longs;t the&longs;e: And I am
entirely for having concealed Pa&longs;&longs;ages and pri
vate and hidden Apartments, barely known to
the Ma&longs;ter him&longs;elf; where, upon any Misfor
tune, he may hide his Plate and other Wealth,
or by which, if need be, he may e&longs;cape him
&longs;elf. In
private Places made for concealing the King's
Hereditary Trea&longs;ures; and they were contriv
ed &longs;o cunningly, that it was hardly po&longs;&longs;ible to
find them out. Out of one of the&longs;e Places,
Prie&longs;t, thirteen hundred Years afterwards. took
three thou&longs;and Talents of Gold (which makes
eighteen hundred thou&longs;and
free the City from
of another of them,
that, got a va&longs;t Quantity of Gold. In the&longs;e
Things therefore the Hou&longs;es of Princes agree
with tho&longs;e of private Per&longs;ons. The chief Dif
ference between private Hou&longs;es and Palaces is,
that there is a particular Air &longs;uitable to each:
In the Latter the Rooms de&longs;igned for the Re
ception of Company &longs;hould be more numerous
and &longs;pacious; tho&longs;e which are intended only
for the U&longs;e of a Few, or only of one Per&longs;on,
&longs;hould be rather neat than large: But here
again a Palace &longs;hould differ from the Hou&longs;e
of a private Per&longs;on, and even the&longs;e private A
partments &longs;hould be made more &longs;pacious and
large, becau&longs;e all Parts of a Prince's Palace are In private Hou&longs;es, tho&longs;e
Parts which are for the Reception of many,
&longs;hould not be made at all different from tho&longs;e
of a Prince; and the Apartments &longs;hould be
kept di&longs;tinct for the Wife, for the Hu&longs;band,
and for the Servants; and every thing is not
to be contrived merely for Conveniency, but
for Grandeur too, and &longs;o, that the Number of
Servants may not breed any Confu&longs;ion. All
this indeed is very difficult, and hardly po&longs;&longs;i
ble to be done under a &longs;ingle Roof: therefore
every Member of the Hou&longs;e mu&longs;t have its par
ticular Area and Platform, and have a di&longs;tinct
Covering and Wall of its own: but then all
the Members &longs;hould be &longs;o joined together by
the Roof and by Lobbies, that the Servants,
when they are wanted about their Bu&longs;ine&longs;s,
may not be called, as it were, out of another
Hou&longs;e, but be always ready at Hand. Children
and Maids, among whom there is an eternal
Chattering, &longs;hould be entirely &longs;eparated from
the Ma&longs;ter's Apartment, and &longs;o &longs;hould the
Dirtine&longs;s of the Servants. The Apartments
where Princes are to eat &longs;hould be in the no
ble&longs;t Part of the Palace; it &longs;hould &longs;tand high,
and command a fine Pro&longs;pect of Sea, Hills,
and wide Views, which gives it an Air of
Greatne&longs;s. The Hou&longs;e for his Spou&longs;e &longs;hould
be entirely &longs;eparated from that of the Prince
her Husband, except only in the la&longs;t Apart
ment or Bed-chamber, which &longs;hould be in
common between both; but then a &longs;ingle Gate,
under the Care of the &longs;ame Porter, &longs;hould
&longs;erve both their Hou&longs;es. The other Particu
lars wherein the Hou&longs;es of Princes differ from
tho&longs;e of private Per&longs;ons, are &longs;uch as are in a
Manner peculiar to the&longs;e latter; and therefore
we &longs;hall &longs;peak of them in their Place. The
Hou&longs;es of Princes agree with one another in an
other Re&longs;pect; which is, that be&longs;ides tho&longs;e
Conveniencies which they ought to have for
their private U&longs;e, they &longs;hould have an Entrance
from the Ma&longs;ter Way, and e&longs;pecially from the
Sea or River; and in&longs;tead of a Ve&longs;tibule, they
&longs;hould have a large open Area, big enough to
receive the Train of an Amba&longs;&longs;ador, or any
other Great Man, whether they come in
Coaches, in Barks, or on Hor&longs;eback.
CHAP. III.
Watch-Towers, and the Difference between the Ca&longs;tle for a Tyrant, and the
Palace for a King.
I would have the Portico be not only a con
venient Covering for Men, but for Bea&longs;ts
al&longs;o, to &longs;helter them from Sun or Rain. Ju&longs;t
before the Ve&longs;tibule nothing can be nobler
than a hand&longs;ome Portico, where the Youth,
waiting till their old Gentlemen return from
tran&longs;acting Bu&longs;ine&longs;s with the Prince, may em
ploy them&longs;elves in all Manner of Exerci&longs;e,
Leaping, Tennis, Throwing of Stones, or
Wre&longs;tling. Next within &longs;hould be a hand&longs;ome
Lobby, or a large Hall; where the Clients
waiting for their Patrons, may conver&longs;e toge
ther; and where the Prince's Seat may be pre
pared for his giving his Decrees. Wherein this
there mu&longs;t be another Hall, where the principal
Men in the State may a&longs;&longs;emble them&longs;elves to
gether in order to &longs;alute their Prince, and to give
their Thoughts concerning what&longs;oever he que&longs;ti
ons them about: Perhaps it may not be ami&longs;s to
have two of tho&longs;e, one for Summer and ano
ther for Winter; and in the Contrivance of them,
particular Regard mu&longs;t be had to the great Age
of the Fathers that are to meet in them, that
there be no Inconveniencies in them which may
any way endanger their Health, and that they
may &longs;tay in them as long as their Bu&longs;ine&longs;s re
quires, with Safety and Plea&longs;ure. We are told
by
every body in the &longs;ame Place, but to make
proper Di&longs;tinctions among the Crowd, and to
receive &longs;ome in private, others in &longs;elect Num
bers, and the Re&longs;t in publick, to &longs;hew which
had the fir&longs;t, and which only the &longs;econd Share
in their Friend&longs;hip. If you are in the &longs;ame
high Rank of Fortune, and this Manner of
Proceeding either becomes or plea&longs;es you, the
be&longs;t Way will be to have &longs;everal Doors to re
ceive your Friends at, by which you may di&longs;
mi&longs;s tho&longs;e that have had Audience, and keep
out &longs;uch as you don't care to grant it to, with
out giving them too much Offence. At the
Top of the Hou&longs;e there &longs;hould be a high
Watch-Tower, from whence you may at any In the&longs;e
Particulars the Palace of a King and of a Ty
rant agree; but then they differ in the&longs;e
other. The Palace of a King &longs;hould &longs;tand in
the Heart of a City, it &longs;hould be ea&longs;y of Acce&longs;s,
beauti&longs;ully adorned, and rather delicate and
polite than proud or &longs;tately: But a Tyrant
&longs;hould have rather a Ca&longs;tle than a Palace, and
it &longs;hould &longs;tand in a Manner out of the City and
in it at the &longs;ame Time. It looks noble to have
the Palace of a King be near adjoyning to the
Theatre, the Temple, and &longs;ome Noblemens
hand&longs;ome Hou&longs;es: The Tyrant mu&longs;t have his
Ca&longs;tle entirely &longs;eparated from all other Build
ings. Both &longs;hould be built in a hand&longs;ome and
noble Manner, but yet &longs;o that the Palace may
not be &longs;o large and rambling as to be not ea&longs;ily
defended again&longs;t any In&longs;ult; nor the Ca&longs;tle &longs;o
clo&longs;e and &longs;o crampt up, as to look more like a
Jail than the Re&longs;idence of a great Prince. We &longs;hould not omit one Contrivance very con
venient for a Tyrant, which is to have &longs;ome
private Pipes concealed within the Body of the
Wall, by which he may &longs;ecretly hear every
Thing that is &longs;aid either by Strangers or Ser
vants. But as a Royal Hou&longs;e is different from
a Fortre&longs;s in almo&longs;t all Re&longs;pects, and e&longs;pecial
ly in the main Ones, the be&longs;t Way is to let the
Palace join to the Fortre&longs;s. The Ancients
u&longs;ed to build their Fortre&longs;s in the City, that to
they or their King might have a Place to fly
to in any Time of Adver&longs;ity, and where the Vir
tue of their Virgins and Matrons might be
protected by the Holine&longs;s of a Sanctuary: For
&longs;ecrate their Fortre&longs;&longs;es to Religion, upon which
Account they were called
in them a certain Sacrifice u&longs;ed to be perform
ed by Virgins, which was extremely &longs;ecret and
entirely remote from the Knowledge of the
Vulgar. Accordingly you &longs;eldom meet with
an ancient Fortre&longs;s without its Temple. But
Tyrants afterwards u&longs;urped the Fortre&longs;s to
them&longs;elves, and overthrew the Piety and Reli
gion of the Place, converting it to their cruel
and wicked Purpo&longs;es, and &longs;o made what was
de&longs;igned as a Refuge to the Mi&longs;erable, a Source
of Mi&longs;eries. But, to return.
The Fortre&longs;s be
longing to the Temple of
was encompa&longs;&longs;ed with three Walls; the fir&longs;t
Fortification was for the Prince, the &longs;econd for
his Spou&longs;e and her Children, and the la&longs;t was
the Po&longs;t of the Soldiers. A Stucture very well
contrived, only that it was much better adapt
ed for Defence than Offence. I mu&longs;t confe&longs;s
that as I cannot &longs;ay much for the Valour of a
Soldier that only knows how to repul&longs;e an E
nemy that a&longs;&longs;aults him, &longs;o I cannot much
commend a Fort that, be&longs;ides being able to
defend it&longs;elf, is not al&longs;o well di&longs;po&longs;ed for of
fending its Enemies. But yet you &longs;hould con
trive the Matter &longs;o, that though you have both
tho&longs;e Advantages, you &longs;hould &longs;eem to have had
an Eye only to one of them, namely, your own
Defence; that it may be thought the other
happened only from the Situation and Nature
of the Building.
CHAP. IV.
a Plain, or upon a Hill, its Inclo&longs;ure, Area, Walls, Ditches, Bridges, and
Towers.
I find that even Men of good Experience in
military Affairs, are in Doubt which is the
be&longs;t and &longs;tronge&longs;t Manner of building a For
tre&longs;s, either upon a Hill or Plain. There is
&longs;carce any Hill but what may be either at
tacked or undermined; nor any Plain but
what may be &longs;o well fortified that it &longs;hall be
impo&longs;&longs;ible to a&longs;&longs;ault it without great Danger. But I &longs;hall not di&longs;pute about this Que&longs;tion.
Our Bu&longs;ine&longs;s is to contrive every Thing &longs;uita
bly to the Nature of the Place; and indeed all
the Rules which we have laid down for the
building a City, &longs;hould be ob&longs;erved in the
building a Fortre&longs;s. The Fortre&longs;s particular
ly &longs;hould be &longs;ure to have even and direct
Streets, by which the Garri&longs;on may march to
attack an Enemy, or in Ca&longs;e of Sedition or
Treachery, their own Citizens and Inhabitants,
and bring in Succours, either out of their own
Country or from Abroad, without Impedi
ment, by Land, River, Lake, or Sea. One
very good Form for the Area of a Fortre&longs;s, is
that of a C joining to all the City Walls as to
a round O with bending Horns, but not en
which is &longs;haped like a Star with Rays running
out to the Circumference; and thus the For
tre&longs;s will be, as we before ob&longs;erved it ought,
neither within nor without the City. If we
were to give a brief De&longs;cription of the Fortre&longs;s,
or Citadel, it might perhaps be not ami&longs;s to
&longs;ay that it is the Back-door to the City &longs;trong
ly &longs;ortified on all Sides. But let it be what it
will, whether the Crown of the Wall, or the
Key to the City, it ought to look fierce, ter
rible, rugged, dangerous, and unconquerable;
and the le&longs;s it is, the &longs;tronger it will be. A
&longs;mall one will require the Fidelity only of a
few, but a large one that of a great many:
And, as
titude without a great many dangerous Spirits
in it; &longs;o that in the Ca&longs;e before us, the Fewer
we have occa&longs;ion to tru&longs;t, the Safer we &longs;hall be. The outward Wall, or Inclo&longs;ure of the For
tre&longs;s &longs;hould be built very &longs;trong, of large
Stone, with a good Slope on the Out&longs;ide, that
the Ladders &longs;et again&longs;t it may be weakened by
their &longs;tanding too oblique; and that the Ene
my who A&longs;&longs;aults it and endeavours to &longs;cale it,
may lie entirely open to the Stones thrown
down upon him; and that Things ca&longs;t at the
Wall by the military Engines may not &longs;trike
it full, but be thrown off a&longs;lant. The Ground
or Area on the In&longs;ide &longs;hould be all paved with
two or even three Layers of very large Stones,
that the Be&longs;iegers may not get in upon you by
Mines run under the Wall. All the Re&longs;t of
the Walls &longs;hould be made very high, and very
&longs;trong and thick quite to the uppermo&longs;t Cor
ni&longs;h, that they may &longs;toutly re&longs;i&longs;t all Manner of
Battery, and not ea&longs;ily be mounted by Ladders,
nor commanded by Intrenchments ca&longs;t up on
the Out&longs;ide. In other Re&longs;pects the &longs;ame
Rules are to be ob&longs;erved that we have given
for the Walls of the City. The greate&longs;t De
fence to the Walls either of a City or Fortre&longs;s
is to be &longs;o provided, that the Enemy cannot
approach you on any Side without being ex
po&longs;ed to imminent Danger. This is done both
by making very broad and deep Ditches, as
we &longs;aid before; and al&longs;o by leaving private
Loop-Holes almo&longs;t at the very Bottom of the
Wall, by which, while the Enemy is covering
him&longs;elf with his Shield from the Be&longs;ieged above,
he may be taken in his Flank which lies un
guarded. And indeed, there is no Kind of
Defence &longs;o &longs;erviceable as this. You gaul the
Enemy from the&longs;e Loop-Holes with the greate&longs;t
Safety to your&longs;elf, you have a nearer Aim at
him, and you are &longs;ure to do mo&longs;t Execution,
&longs;ince it is impo&longs;&longs;ible he &longs;hould defend all Parts
of his Body at the &longs;ame Time: And if your
Weapon pa&longs;&longs;es by the fir&longs;t Man without hurt
ing him, it meets another, and &longs;ometimes
wounds two or three at a Time. On the
Contrary, when the be&longs;ieged throws Things
down from the Top of the Wall, they mu&longs;t
&longs;tand expo&longs;ed to a good Deal of Danger, and
it is a great Chance whether they hit &longs;o much
as one Man, who may ea&longs;ily &longs;ee what is com
ing upon him, and avoid it, or turn it a&longs;ide
with his Buckler. If the Fortre&longs;s &longs;tands upon
the Sea-&longs;ide, you &longs;hould fix Piles and Heaps of
Stone &longs;cattered up and down about the Coa&longs;t
to make it un&longs;afe, and prevent any Batteries in
Shipping from coming too near. If it is upon
a Plain it &longs;hould be &longs;urrounded with a Ditch
filled with Water; but then to prevent its
&longs;tinking and infecting the Air, you &longs;hould dig
for it till you come to a living Spring. If it is upon
a Hill, it &longs;hould be encompa&longs;&longs;ed with broken
Precipices; and where we have an Opportuni
ty we &longs;hould make u&longs;e of all the&longs;e Advantages
together. Tho&longs;e Parts which are expo&longs;ed to
battery, &longs;hould be made Semi-circular, or ra
ther with a &longs;harp Angle like the Head of a
Ship. I am not to learn that &longs;ome People of
good Experience in military Matters, are of
Opinion that very high Walls are dangerous in
Ca&longs;e of Battery; becau&longs;e their Ruins fill up the
Ditch, and make a Way in it for the Enemy to
approach and a&longs;&longs;ault the Place. But we &longs;hall
avoid this Inconvenience, if we ob&longs;erve all the
Rules before laid down. But to return.
With
in the Fortre&longs;s ought to be one principal Tower,
built in the &longs;toute&longs;t Manner, and &longs;ortified as
&longs;trongly as po&longs;&longs;ible, higher than any other Part
of the Ca&longs;tle, and not acce&longs;&longs;ible by more than
one Way, to which there &longs;hould be no other
Entrance but by a Draw-bridge. Draw
bridges are of two Sorts; one which is lifted up
and &longs;tops up the Entrance; the other, which
&longs;lides out and in, as you have occa&longs;ion for it. In a Place expo&longs;ed to boi&longs;terous Winds, this
la&longs;t is the mo&longs;t Convenient. Any Tower that
may po&longs;&longs;ibly infe&longs;t this principal One, ought
to be left quite open and naked on that Side
which &longs;tands towards it, or faced only with a
very thin weak Wall.
CHAP. V.
centinel, or to fight. Of the Covering or Roof of the Fortre&longs;s, and in what
Manner it is to be made &longs;trong, and of the other Conveniencies nece&longs;&longs;ary in the
Ca&longs;tle, either of a King or a Tyrant.
The Place where the Soldiers are to &longs;tand
to keep centinel, and to defend the
Wall, &longs;hould be &longs;o laid out, that &longs;ome may
guard the lower Parts of the Fortre&longs;s, others
the upper, thus being all di&longs;tributed into vari
ous Po&longs;ts and Employments. In a Word, the
Entrance in, and Pa&longs;&longs;age out, and every &longs;epa
rate Part &longs;hould be &longs;o contrived and &longs;ecured,
that it may be expo&longs;ed neither to the Treach
ery of Friends, nor the Force or Fraud of Ene
mies. The Roofs in a Fortre&longs;s &longs;hould be built
with an acute Angle, and very &longs;trong, that
they may not ea&longs;ily be demoli&longs;hed by the
Weight of what is thrown from the military
Engines; the Rafters in them mu&longs;t &longs;tand very
clo&longs;e together, and a Covering over them, and
then lay the Gutters for carrying off the Rain,
but entirely without Lime or Mortar. Then
make a Covering over the Whole of Pieces of
Tile, or rather of Pumice-&longs;tones, to the Heighth
of three Foot: Thus it will neither be in
Danger from any Weight falling upon it, nor
from Fire. In &longs;hort, a Fortre&longs;s is to be built
like a little Town: It &longs;hould be fortified with
the &longs;ame Care and Art, and if po&longs;&longs;ible, pro
vided with all the Conveniencies that a Town
&longs;hould be. It mu&longs;t not want Water, nor &longs;uf
ficient room for lodging the Soldiers, and laying
up Stores of Arms, Corn, Salted-meat, Vine
gar, and particularly Wood. And within this
Fortre&longs;s too, that which we called the princi
pal Tower, ought to be a little Fortre&longs;s within
it&longs;elf, and &longs;hould want none of the Conveni
encies required in a great one. It &longs;hould have
its own Ci&longs;terns, and Store-rooms for all Pro
vi&longs;ions nece&longs;&longs;ary, either for its Maintenance or
Defence. It &longs;hould have Pa&longs;&longs;ages, by which
it may upon Occa&longs;ion attack even its own
Friends, and for the Admi&longs;&longs;ion of Succours. I
will not omit one Circum&longs;tance, which is, that
Ca&longs;tles have &longs;ometimes been defended by
Means of their private Pa&longs;&longs;ages for Water, and
Towns taken by Means of their Drains. Both
the&longs;e may be of U&longs;e for &longs;ending out private
Me&longs;&longs;engers. But you &longs;hould be &longs;ure to con
trive them &longs;o, that they may do you more Ser
vice than Prejudice. Let them therefore be
made but ju&longs;t big enough; let them run wind
ing &longs;everal Ways, and let them end in &longs;ome
very deep Place, that there may not be room
enough for a Man with his Arms, and that
even one unarmed may not get into the Ca&longs;tle
without being permitted or called. The
Mouths of them may end very conveniently
in &longs;ome common Drain, or rather in &longs;ome un
known de&longs;art Place, or in a private Chapel, or
a Tomb in &longs;ome Church. We &longs;hould like
wi&longs;e never be unprovided again&longs;t human Acci
dents and Calamities; and therefore it will be
very proper to have &longs;ome Pa&longs;&longs;age into the very
Heart of the Fortre&longs;s, known to nobody but
your&longs;elf; by which if you &longs;hould ever happen
to be &longs;hut out, you may immediately get in
with an armed Force: And perhaps one good
Way to do this may be to have &longs;ome very pri
vate Part of the Wall built only of Earth or
Chalk, and not of Stone and Mortar. Thus
much may &longs;uffice for what is nece&longs;&longs;ary to be
done for a &longs;ingle Per&longs;on that is po&longs;&longs;e&longs;&longs;ed of the
Government, whether King or Tyrant.
CHAP. VI.
The proper Situation and
Building for the Hou&longs;es of tho&longs;e that govern the Republick, and of the Prie&longs;ts. Of Temples, as well large as &longs;mall, Chapels and Oratories.
We are now to treat of tho&longs;e Things
which are proper to &longs;uch as are at the
Head not of a Monarchy but of a Common
wealth; and here the Power is lodged either
in the Hands of &longs;ome one &longs;ingle Magi&longs;trate,
or el&longs;e is divided among a certain Number.
which appertain to the publick Wor&longs;hip: The
Care of which is in the Prie&longs;ts; and of Things
profane, which regard the Welfare and good of
the Society; the Care of which is in the Sena
tors and Judges at Home, and in the Generals
of Armies and Fleets Abroad. To each of
the&longs;e belong two Kinds of Building, one upon
account of the Per&longs;on's Office, the other for
the U&longs;e of his own private Family. Every
Man's Hou&longs;e &longs;hould certainly be &longs;uited to the
Condition of Life which he is in, whether he
is a King, a Tyrant, or a private Per&longs;on. There
are &longs;ome Circum&longs;tances which in a particular
Manner become Men in high Stations.
very judiciou&longs;ly makes
in a private Part of the City, and &longs;haded with
Trees; knowing very well that the Habitati
ons of great Men, for the Dignity and Quiet
both of them&longs;elves and Families, &longs;hould be re
mote from the Concour&longs;e of the Vulgar, and
from the Noi&longs;e of Trades; and this not only
for the Plea&longs;ure and Conveniency of having
Room for Gardens, Groves, or the like, but
al&longs;o that &longs;o large a Family, con&longs;i&longs;ting of diffe
rent Sorts of People, may not lie in the Way
to be corrupted and debauched by an ill
Neighbourhood, &longs;ince (as is rightly ob&longs;erved)
more Mi&longs;chief is done by Wine Abroad than at
Home: And moreover, in order to avoid the
eternal Torment of numerous Vi&longs;itors and At
tendants. I have indeed ob&longs;erved that wi&longs;e
Princes have not only placed them&longs;elves out of
the Way of the Crowd, but even out of the
City it&longs;elf, that the common People might not
be trouble&longs;ome to them, but when they were
in &longs;ome particular Want of their Protection:
And, in Reality, what &longs;ignifies all their Wealth
and Greatne&longs;s, if they can never enjoy a few
Hours of Repo&longs;e and Lei&longs;ure? However, their
Hou&longs;es, let them &longs;tand where they will, ought
to have large &longs;pacious Apartments to receive
tho&longs;e that come to attend them, and the Street
which leads from them to the Places where the
publick Affairs are tran&longs;acted, &longs;hould be of a
good Breadth, that their Servants, Clients,
Suitors and Followers crowding to attend their
Patron, may not &longs;top up the Way, and breed
Confu&longs;ion. The different Places where the
Magi&longs;trates are to exerci&longs;e their Offices, are
known to every Body: The Bu&longs;ine&longs;s of the
Senator, is in the Senate-hou&longs;e; of the Judge,
in the Tribunal, or Court of Ju&longs;tice; of the
General in the Army; of the Admiral on board
the Fleet. But what &longs;hall we &longs;ay of the Prie&longs;ts?
to whom belongs not only the Temple, but
al&longs;o the Cloy&longs;ter, which might be called a
Lodgement, or Camp for Soldiers, &longs;ince the
chief Prie&longs;ts, and all his inferior Mini&longs;ters, are
employed in a &longs;tubborn and laborious Warfare,
(as we have &longs;hewed in the Book called
Prie&longs;tOf Temples, &longs;ome are principal, as is that
wherein the chief Prie&longs;t upon &longs;tated Sea&longs;ons ce
lebrates &longs;ome &longs;olemn Rites and Sacrifices:
Others are under the Guardian&longs;hip of inferior
Prie&longs;ts, as all Chapels in Town, and Oratories
in the Country. Perhaps the mo&longs;t convenient
Situation for the principal Temple may be in
the Middle of the City; but it is more Decent
to have it &longs;omewhat remote from the Crowd:
A Hill gives it an Air of Dignity, but it is more
&longs;ecure from Earthquakes in a Plain. In a
Word, the Temple is to be placed where it
may appear with mo&longs;t Maje&longs;ty and Reverence:
For which Rea&longs;on it &longs;hould lie entirely out of
the Way of all Filth and Indecency, to the In
tent that Fathers, Matrons and Virgins, who
come to offer up their Prayers, may not be
&longs;hocked and offended, or perverted from their
intended Devotions.
tect, who wrote about the
that the ancient Architects were for having the
Fronts of their Temples facing the We&longs;t: But
this Cu&longs;tom was afterwards quite altered, and
it was thought better to have the Temples and
the
have a View of the ri&longs;ing Sun. But I have ob
&longs;erved my&longs;elf that the Ancients in the &longs;ituating
of their &longs;maller Temples or Chapels, generally
turned their Fronts &longs;o as they might be &longs;een
from the Sea, or &longs;ome River or great Road. To conclude, a Structure of this Kind ought
to be &longs;o built as to entice tho&longs;e who are ab&longs;ent
to come and &longs;ee it, and to charm and detain
tho&longs;e that are pre&longs;ent by the Beauty and Curi
o&longs;ity of its Workman&longs;hip. An arched Roof
will &longs;ecure it mo&longs;t again&longs;t Fire, and a flat one
again&longs;t Earthquakes; but the former will be
the lea&longs;t liable to Decay by the Injury of Time. And this may &longs;uffice as to the Temples, be
cau&longs;e many Things which &longs;eem nece&longs;&longs;ary to be
&longs;aid here, belong more properly to their Orna
ment than to their real U&longs;e: And therefore of
tho&longs;e we &longs;hall treat el&longs;ewhere. Smaller Tem
ples and Chaples mu&longs;t imitate the Greater, ac
cording to the Dignity of their Situation and
U&longs;es.
CHAP. VII.
Sorts of Cloy&longs;ters and their proper Situations.
The Prie&longs;t's Camp is the Cloy&longs;ter, in
which a certain Number of Per&longs;ons &longs;hut
them&longs;elves up together in order to devote them
&longs;elves either to Religion or Virtue; &longs;uch are tho&longs;e
who have dedicated them&longs;elves to the &longs;acred
Functions, or who have taken upon them&longs;elves
a Vow of Cha&longs;tity. Be&longs;ides this Cloy&longs;ter is a
Place where Per&longs;ons of &longs;tudious Di&longs;po&longs;itions
employ them&longs;elves about the Knowledge of
Things as well Divine as Human; for as the
Prie&longs;t's Duty is as far as in him lies to lead
Mankind into a Cour&longs;e of Life as near to Per
fection as po&longs;&longs;ible, this can never be done more
effectually than by Philo&longs;ophy. For as there
are two Things in the Nature of Man to which
this mu&longs;t be owing, Virtue and Truth; when
the former has taught us to calm and govern
our Pa&longs;&longs;ions, and the latter to know the Prin
ciples and Secrets of Nature, which will purge
the Mind from Ignorance and the Contagion of
the Body; we may then be qualified to enter
into a happy Cour&longs;e of Life, and to have &longs;ome
Re&longs;emblance with the divine Nature it&longs;elf. Add
to this, that it is the Duty of all good Men, as
the Prie&longs;ts ought and would be thought to be,
to exerci&longs;e them&longs;elves in all tho&longs;e Offices of
Humanity which are due from every Man to
his Neighbour, namely, to a&longs;&longs;i&longs;t and relieve the
Poor, the Di&longs;tre&longs;&longs;ed and the Infirm, to the ut
mo&longs;t of their Power. The&longs;e are the Things
in which the Prie&longs;t is to employ him&longs;elf and
all tho&longs;e under his Direction. Of the Struc
tures proper for the&longs;e Purpo&longs;es, whether be
longing to the &longs;uperior or inferior Rank of
Prie&longs;ts, we are now to treat; and fir&longs;t we &longs;hall
begin with the Cloy&longs;ter. Cloy&longs;ters are of &longs;e
veral Sorts, either for &longs;uch Per&longs;ons as are to be
&longs;o &longs;trictly confined that they mu&longs;t never ap
pear in publick at all, unle&longs;s at Church or in
Proce&longs;&longs;ions; or for tho&longs;e who are to be allow
ed a little more Liberty. Of the&longs;e again &longs;ome
are for Men, others for Women. Tho&longs;e for
Women &longs;hould, in my Opinion, be neither too
much in the City, nor too much out of it: For
though in a Solitude they may not be &longs;o much
&longs;requented, yet any one that has a De&longs;ign may
have more Opportunity to execute any villan
ous Enterprize where there are &longs;o few Wit
ne&longs;&longs;es, than where there are a great many both
to &longs;hame and di&longs;&longs;wade him from &longs;uch an At
tempt. It is our Bu&longs;ine&longs;s in both to take Care
not that they have no Inclinations to be un
cha&longs;te, but no means. For this Purpo&longs;e every
Entrance mu&longs;t be &longs;o &longs;ecured, that nobody can
po&longs;&longs;ibly get in; and &longs;o well watched, that no
body may loyter about in order to attempt it
without in&longs;tant Su&longs;picion and Shame. No
Camp for an Army &longs;hould be &longs;o well guarded
by Intrenchments and Pali&longs;adoes, as a Mona&longs;
tery ought to be by high Walls, without either
Doors or Windows in them, or the lea&longs;t Hole
by which not only no Violator of Cha&longs;tity, but
not &longs;o much as the lea&longs;t Temptation either by
the Eye or Ear, may po&longs;&longs;ibly get in to di&longs;order,
or pollute the Minds of the Reclu&longs;e. Let them
receive their Light from an open Court on the
In&longs;ide. Round this Court the Portico, Cells,
Refectory, Chapter-hou&longs;e and the like Conve
niencies &longs;hould be di&longs;po&longs;ed according to their
various U&longs;es, in the &longs;ame Manner as in private
Hou&longs;es. Nor &longs;hould Space be wanting for
Gardens and Meadows, for the moderate Re
creation of the Mind, but not for admini&longs;tring
to Plea&longs;ure. If all the&longs;e Precautions are ta
ken, it will be be&longs;t to have them out of the
Way of a Concour&longs;e of People. The Cloy&longs;ters
for both Sexes therefore cannot be better placed
than without the City; that the Attention of
their Thoughts which are entirely dedicated to
Holine&longs;s, and the calm and &longs;ettled Religion of
their Minds may not be di&longs;turbed by too many
Vi&longs;itors. But then I would have their Hou&longs;es,
whether they are for Men or Women, &longs;ituated
in the mo&longs;t healthy Air that can be found out;
that the Reclu&longs;e, while they are wholly intent
upon the Care of their Souls, may not have
their Bodies, already impared, by con&longs;tant fa&longs;t
ing and watching, oppre&longs;&longs;ed likewi&longs;e with
Weakne&longs;s and Di&longs;ea&longs;es. Tho&longs;e who are with
out the City &longs;hould be placed in a Situation
naturally &longs;trong, that neither Robbers nor any
plundering Enemy with a &longs;mall Force, may
be able at every turn to &longs;ack it; and I would
have it moreover fortified with a Trench and a
which is not at all incon&longs;i&longs;tent with a religious
Edifice. The Mona&longs;tery for tho&longs;e Reclu&longs;e
who to Religion join the Study of the liberal
Arts, that they may be the more ready to pro
mote the Good of Mankind, according to the
Obligation of their Character, ought to be nei
ther within the Noi&longs;e and Hurry of Trade&longs;
men, nor too far remote from the Acce&longs;s of the
Citizens. And as they are a great many in
Family, and there is generally a great Con
cour&longs;e of People to hear them Preach and Di&longs;
pute concerning &longs;acred Things; they require a
very large Hou&longs;e. They can be placed no where
better than among &longs;ome publick Buildings,
&longs;uch as Theatres, Circu&longs;&longs;es, or Squares, where
the Multitude going for their Plea&longs;ure may
more ea&longs;ily by the Exhortations, Example and
Admonition of the Religious, be drawn from
Vice to Virtue, and from Ignorance to Know
ledge.
CHAP. VIII.
Women.
The Ancients, and e&longs;pecially the
u&longs;ed in the very Middle of their Cities
to erect tho&longs;e Edifices which they called
to Philo&longs;ophy, attended publick Di&longs;putations. They were large &longs;pacious Places full of Win
dows, with a free Pro&longs;pect on all Sides, and
rai&longs;ed Seats, and Porticoes running round &longs;ome
green flowery Meadow. Such a Structure is
extremely proper for the&longs;e Per&longs;ons, who may
be reckoned a Kind of Religious; and I would
have tho&longs;e who delight in the Study of Learn
ing, be provided with every Thing that may
induce them to &longs;tay with their Tutors with
Plea&longs;ure, and without Unea&longs;ine&longs;s or Satiety. For this Rea&longs;on, I would have the Meadow,
the Portico, and every Thing el&longs;e &longs;o laid out,
that nothing what&longs;oever could be better con
trived for Recreation. In Winter let them re
ceive the kindly Beams of the Sun, and in Sum
mer be &longs;hady and open to gentle refre&longs;hing
Breezes. But of the Delicacies of this Kind of
Structures we &longs;hall &longs;peak more particularly in
another Place. Only if you do re&longs;olve to erect
publick Schools, where the Learned may meet
and conver&longs;e, place them in that Situation
which may be mo&longs;t convenient and plea&longs;ant for
them. Let there be no Noi&longs;es of working Trades,
no noi&longs;ome ill Smells; and do not let it be a
Place for idle People to loyter in; but let it
have more the Air of a Solitude, &longs;uch as be
comes Men of Gravity employed about the no
ble&longs;t and mo&longs;t curious Enquiries: In a Word,
it &longs;hould have more of Maje&longs;ty than Nicety. As for Ho&longs;pitals where the Prie&longs;t is to exerci&longs;e
his Charity towards the Poor and Di&longs;tre&longs;&longs;ed,
they are to be built with much Thought, and
a good Deal of Variety; for one Place is pro
per for harbouring the Di&longs;tre&longs;&longs;ed, and another
for curing and fo&longs;tering the Sick and Infirm:
Among the&longs;e la&longs;t too we &longs;hould take Care to
make a good Deal of Di&longs;tinction, that while
we are providing for a few u&longs;ele&longs;s People, we
do not neglect more that might really be of
Service. There have been &longs;ome Princes in
that would never &longs;uffer any tattered Cripples
to go about their Cities begging Charity from
Door to Door; but as &longs;oon as ever they came,
an Order was brought to them not to be &longs;een
in that City without working at &longs;ome Trade
above three Days: For there is hardly any &longs;o
maimed but what may do &longs;ome Work or other;
and even a blind Man may turn a Rope
maker's Wheel, if he can do nothing el&longs;e. As
for tho&longs;e who are entirely oppre&longs;&longs;ed and dif
abled by &longs;ome heavier Infirmity, they were
taken care of by Magi&longs;trates appointed on pur
po&longs;e to provide for &longs;ick Strangers, and di&longs;tri
buted regularly to inferior Ho&longs;pitlers, to be
looked after. And by this Means the&longs;e poor
Wretches did not wander about begging Re
lief, perhaps in vain; and the City was not of
fended by mi&longs;erable and filthy Objects. In
ty, there are noble Ho&longs;pitals, built at a va&longs;t
Expence; where as well Strangers as Natives,
are furni&longs;hed plentifully with all Manner of
Nece&longs;&longs;aries for their Cure. But as the Sick are
of various Sorts, &longs;ome afflicted with Lepro&longs;y or
Plague, with which they might infect tho&longs;e who
are in Health, and others, if &longs;uch an Expre&longs;
&longs;ion may be allowed, with more whol&longs;ome
tirely &longs;eperate. The Ancients dedicated their
Buildings of this Nature to
and
a&longs;cribed the Cure of Sickne&longs;s and Pre&longs;ervation
Health, and &longs;ituated them in the be&longs;t Air they
could find out, and near Plenty of the cleare&longs;t
Water, where the Sick might recover their
Health, not &longs;o much by the A&longs;&longs;i&longs;tanc of tho&longs;e
Gods, as the natural Healthine&longs;s of the Place:
And certainly nothing can be more rea&longs;onable
than to carry the Sick, whether under a private
or a publick Cure, into the mo&longs;t healthy Places;
and perhaps none are more &longs;o, than tho&longs;e which
are very dry and &longs;tony, fanned with continual
Breezes, not burnt up by the Sun, but cool and
temperate: Since we find that all Moi&longs;ture is
the Mother of Corruption. We &longs;ee that Na
ture in every Thing loves a Medium; and even
Health it&longs;elf is nothing but a due Moderation
of the Qualities of the Body; and indeed no
thing that is in Extreams can plea&longs;e. For the
Re&longs;t, tho&longs;e who are &longs;eized with Di&longs;ea&longs;es which
are contagious, &longs;hould be taken Care of not on
ly without the City, but remote even from any
high Road; the others may be kept in the
City. The Apartments for all the&longs;e &longs;hould be
&longs;o laid out and di&longs;tributed, that there may be
di&longs;tinct Places for tho&longs;e who are curable, and
tho&longs;e whom you take in rather to maintain
them for the Remainder of their unhappy
Days, than to cure them: Of this Sort are the
Superannuated, and tho&longs;e who want their
Sen&longs;es. Add further, that the Men and Wo
men, as well the Patients, as the Per&longs;ons that
attend them, &longs;hould have Apartments &longs;eparate
from one another; and as &longs;ome Parts of the
Building &longs;hould be for Particulars, others &longs;hould
be in common, according as it &longs;hall be found
nece&longs;&longs;ary for the Management of the Patients,
and the more ea&longs;y cohabiting together: Of
which there is no Occa&longs;ion to &longs;ay more in this
Place. We &longs;hall only ob&longs;erve that all the&longs;e
Conveniencies are to be contrived according to
the Rules hereafter to be laid down for the
Hou&longs;es of private Per&longs;ons. We &longs;hall there
fore now proceed according to the Method
which we have pre&longs;cribed to our&longs;elves.
CHAP. IX.
Ju&longs;tice.
Having already ob&longs;erved that the Re
publick con&longs;i&longs;ts of two Parts, the Sacred
and the Profane, and having treated of the
Sacred as much as was requi&longs;ite, and in a good
Mea&longs;ure too of the Profane, where we took
Notice of the Place in the Palace of the Prince
where the Senate was to meet, and where
Cau&longs;es were to be heard; we &longs;hall now very
briefly &longs;peak of tho&longs;e Things which &longs;eem nece&longs;
&longs;ary to be further added, then proceed to In
campments and Fleets, and la&longs;tly treat of
Things relating to the U&longs;es of private Per&longs;ons. The Ancients u&longs;ed to call their Senates together
in Temples, and afterwards it grew a Cu&longs;tom
for them to meet &longs;omewhere out of the City. But at length, both for greater Dignity and
Conveniency in tran&longs;acting the publick Affairs,
it was found nece&longs;&longs;ary to rai&longs;e Structures for
this Purpo&longs;e only; where neither the Length
of the Way, nor any Inconveniency in the
Place it&longs;elf, might deter the aged Fathers from
meeting often, and continuing a good while
together; and for this Rea&longs;on they placed the
Senate-hou&longs;e in the Middle of the City, with
the Place for the Admini&longs;tration of Ju&longs;tice and
the Temple near adjoining, that not only tho&longs;e
who made Intere&longs;t for Offices, or were obliged
to attend Law-&longs;uits, might with greater Con
venience, and without lo&longs;ing their Time or
Opportunity, look after their Affairs of both
Natures; but al&longs;o that the Fathers (as Men are
generally mo&longs;t devoted to Religion in their old
Age) might fir&longs;t pay their Devotions in the
Temple, and afterwards repair immediately to
the Tran&longs;action of the publick Bu&longs;ine&longs;s. Add
to all this, that when any Amba&longs;&longs;ador or fo
reign Prince de&longs;ires Audience of the Senate, it
becomes the Republick to have a Place &longs;uitable
to the Dignity both of the Stranger and of the
City, to receive them in, while they wait for
Introduction. La&longs;tly, in publick Buildings of
this Sort, you mu&longs;t neglect none of tho&longs;e Rules
which belong to the convenient and honoura
ble Reception of a Multitude of Citizens, and
their ea&longs;y Di&longs;mi&longs;&longs;ion: And above all you mu&longs;t
take particular Care, that there is not the lea&longs;t
and the like. But in the Hall for the Admi
ni&longs;tration of Ju&longs;tice, where Numbers of Peo
ple re&longs;ort about various Contentions, the A
pertures mu&longs;t be more and larger, and more
direct than either in the Temple or Senate
hou&longs;e. The Entrance into the Senate-hou&longs;e
ought to be made no le&longs;s &longs;trong than hand
&longs;ome, for very many Rea&longs;ons, and particularly
to the Intent that no fooli&longs;h head&longs;trong Rab
ble, at the In&longs;tigation of any &longs;editious Ring
leader, may be able at any Time to attack and
in&longs;ult the Senators: For which Rea&longs;on, more
than for any other, there ought to be Porti
coes, Ve&longs;tibules, and the like, where Servants,
Clients and Attendants, waiting for their Pa
trons, may be ready at Hand to defend them
in Ca&longs;e of any &longs;udden Commotion. I will not
omit one Ob&longs;ervation, namely, that no Place
where we are to hear the Voices of Per&longs;ons
either &longs;peaking, &longs;inging, or di&longs;puting, &longs;hould
ever be vaulted becau&longs;e &longs;uch Roofs confound
the Voice with Ecchoes: Whereas a flat Ceil
ing made of Timbers renders the Sound more
clear and di&longs;tinct.
CHAP. X.
what Manner they are to be fortified; and the various Methods u&longs;ed by
different Nations.
In laying down a Camp we ought to review
and re-con&longs;ider all tho&longs;e Rules which we
gave in the la&longs;t Book for the Situation of a Ci
ty; for, indeed, Camps are as it were the Seeds
of Cities, and you will find that not a few Ci
ties have been built in tho&longs;e very Places, where
excellent Generals had before incamped with
their Armies. In making a Camp, the chief
Matter is to know to what Intent it is de&longs;ign
ed. There would not be the lea&longs;t Occa&longs;ion
for a Camp if it were not for unfore&longs;een Acci
dents in War, and for the Apprehen&longs;ion of A&longs;
&longs;aults from a &longs;uperior Force: And therefore
we are to con&longs;ider the Nature of the Enemy. Of Enemies &longs;ome are inferior as to Valour and
Number; &longs;ome equal, &longs;ome &longs;uperior. For this
Rea&longs;on we &longs;hall determine the different Sorts
of Incampments to be three; the Fir&longs;t is that
which is made only for a Time, and is move
able every Moment, which is proper for with
&longs;tanding and managing an Enemy equal to
your&longs;elf, and is de&longs;igned partly for keeping the
Soldier &longs;afe from &longs;udden Attacks, and partly
for watching and obtaining Opportunities of
effecting your De&longs;igns. The &longs;econd Sort of
Incampment is &longs;tationary, in which you wait
to oppre&longs;s and &longs;ubdue an Enemy, who, di&longs;
tru&longs;ting his own Forces, &longs;huts him&longs;elf up in
&longs;ome &longs;trong Hold. The third Sort is that in
which you &longs;hut up your&longs;elf, to receive and re
pul&longs;e the Attacks of a &longs;uperior Force, &longs;o as to
be able to &longs;end the Enemy away weary of the
Fatigues and Lo&longs;s in be&longs;ieging you. In all
the&longs;e you mu&longs;t take great Care that every
Thing be &longs;o ordered, that not the lea&longs;t Parti
cular be wanting which can be of Service to
your own Security and Welfare, and to the
&longs;u&longs;taining, repul&longs;ing and breaking the Enemy;
and on the Contrary, that the Enemy, as far as
lies in your Power, may have no Conveniency
what&longs;oever, by means of which he may either
hurt you, or &longs;ecure him&longs;elf. For this Rea&longs;on,
the fir&longs;t Thing to be con&longs;ulted, is the Nature
of the Situation, that it be in a Country well
furni&longs;hed with all Manner of Provi&longs;ions, and
lie convenient for the ea&longs;y bringing in either of
Convoys or Supplies upon all Occa&longs;ions. Let
Water by no means be wanting, and let Wood
and Pa&longs;ture be not far off. Take care to have
a free Communication with your own Terri
tory, and an open Pa&longs;&longs;age at plea&longs;ure into the
Enemy's. Let the Enemy on the Contrary, have
nothing but Difficulties and Ob&longs;tacles. I am
for having a Camp placed on a Situation &longs;o
high, as to have an open View of the Enemy's
Country all round; &longs;o that they may not be
gin or attempt any Thing what&longs;oever, without
your being immediately aware of it. Let it be
&longs;ecured all round with &longs;teep Slopes, difficult
A&longs;cents, and broken Precipices; that the Ene
my may not be able to &longs;urround you with
Multitudes, nor to attack you on any Side,
without expo&longs;ing him&longs;elf to imminent Danger;
or that if he &longs;hould come clo&longs;e up to you, he
may not conveniently u&longs;e his Engines, or make
any &longs;ecure Lodgments for him&longs;elf near you.
&longs;ure to be the Fir&longs;t to lay hold of them; if
not, we mu&longs;t then con&longs;ider what Sort of Camp,
and what Kind of Situation will be&longs;t an&longs;wer
your Purpo&longs;e. A &longs;tationary Camp ought to
be much better fortified than a Flying one:
And a Plain requires more Art and Diligence
to &longs;trengthen it, than a Hill. We &longs;hall begin
with the moveable, or flying Camp, becau&longs;e it
is much more frequently u&longs;ed than a &longs;tationary
one: And indeed, the frequent moving the
Camp, has very often conduced extremely to
the Health of the Army. In placing a Camp,
it is a Que&longs;tion that naturally ari&longs;es in the
Mind, whether it is be&longs;t to fix it upon our
own Territory, or upon that of the Enemy.
Camp, our Enemy is oppre&longs;&longs;ed, but our Friends
ea&longs;ed. Without doubt, it is honourable and
brave to lie upon the Enemy's Country; but
it is convenient and &longs;afe to be upon our own. But indeed a Camp is, with regard to all the
Territory which is &longs;ubject to it, what a Citadel
is to a City; which ought to have a &longs;hort and
ea&longs;y Retreat towards its Friends, and an open
and ready Pa&longs;&longs;age upon its Enemies. La&longs;tly,
in the fortifying of Camps various Methods
have been u&longs;ed. The
Fence round their Camps with Stakes ten foot
long, &longs;harpened and burnt at the Ends, with
one End fixed in the Ground, and the other
&longs;tanding up to keep off the Enemy.
tells us, that the
part of their Waggons, as he &longs;ays the
ans The
(or People of
Trees, and binding and interlacing the Boughs
together made them into a &longs;trong Hedge,
which &longs;erved chiefly for keeping off the Hor&longs;e.
der
ving Occa&longs;ion to land, he &longs;urrounded his Camp
with a Wall to &longs;ecure him&longs;elf again&longs;t the
barians. The
provided, and had &longs;o much Fore&longs;ight, that
whatever happened they took care it &longs;hould
never be by their own Fault; and they u&longs;ed to
exerci&longs;e their Soldiers no le&longs;s in making In
campments, than in the other Parts of the Mi
litary Duty. Nor did they think there was &longs;o
much Merit in offending their Enemies, as in
&longs;ecuring their own Men; and they accounted
it no &longs;mall Part of the Victory, to be able to
with&longs;tand the Enemy, and to repul&longs;e him &longs;o
&longs;toutly as to make him De&longs;pair of Succe&longs;s. For
which Rea&longs;on they never neglected any Means
of De&longs;ence that they could learn or invent for
their own Safety: And if high Hills or Preci
pices were not to be had, they imitated them
as well as they could with very deep Ditches
and high Ramparts, emcompa&longs;&longs;ed with &longs;trong
Fences of Stakes and Hurdles.
CHAP. XI.
Parts; together with the different Methods of attacking and defending a
Camp or other Fortification.
We &longs;hall here proceed further upon this
Subject of Camps according to the
Methods of the aforementioned Ancients. We
mu&longs;t take Care to pitch upon a Place not only
convenient, but &longs;o well adapted for whatever
Purpo&longs;e we have in Hand, that none could be
found more &longs;uitable. And be&longs;ides the other
Advantages before recited, let the Soil be dry,
not muddy nor liable at any Time to be over
flowed; but let the Situation be &longs;uch that it
may be always clear and free for your own
Men, and unfafe for the Enemy. Let there
be no foul Puddle in the Neighbourhood, and
let there be good Water at an ea&longs;y Di&longs;tance. Contrive, if po&longs;&longs;ible, to have &longs;ome clear Springs
within the Camp it&longs;elf, or to have the Fo&longs;s
filled with &longs;ome River or running Stream. The
Camp ought not to be &longs;o large, out of Propor
tion to the Number of your Soldiers, that they
cannot be able to keep &longs;ufficient Centry about
it, &longs;o as to give the Watch-word round one to
another; or to relieve one another &longs;o often as
may be requi&longs;ite in defending the Ramparts:
Nor, on the Contrary, ought it to be &longs;o crampt
up and confined, as not to afford &longs;ufficient
room for all proper Conveniencies.
was of Opinion that Angles were u&longs;ele&longs;s in a
Camp, and therefore he always laid out his in
a Circle, unle&longs;s he had &longs;ome Hill, River or For
tification at his Back. Others commend a
&longs;ituating a Camp we mu&longs;t accommodate our
&longs;elves to the Nece&longs;&longs;ity of the Time, and the
Nature of the Place, according to the Purpo&longs;e
which we have in Hand, whether it be to op
pre&longs;s the Enemy or to re&longs;i&longs;t him. Let us
make our Fo&longs;s &longs;o big, that it may not be filled
up without great Labour, and a long Space of
Time; or rather let us have two Fo&longs;&longs;es, with
&longs;ome intermediate Space between them. The
Ancients, in Works of this Nature al&longs;o, held it
a Point of Religion to make u&longs;e of odd Num
bers; for which Rea&longs;on it was their Cu&longs;tom to
make their Ditches fifteent Foot wide, and nine
deep. Let the Sides of the Ditch be Perpen
dicular, &longs;o that it may be as broad at the Bot
tom as the Top; but where the Soil is loo&longs;e,
you may allow a &longs;mall Slope, running &longs;ome
what narrower towards the Bottom. In a
Plain, or a low Situation, fill your Ditch with
Water brought from &longs;ome River, Lake, or Sea:
But if this cannot be effected &longs;trew all the Bot
tom with &longs;harp Points of Steel and Caltrops,
and fix up and down a good Number of Stakes
with their Ends &longs;moothed and &longs;harpened, to
keep off the Enemy. Having compleated your
Ditch, make your Rampart &longs;o thick, that it
may not be to be &longs;haken by every little mili
tary Engine, and &longs;o high as to be above the
Reach of the grappling Hooks, and even of
Darts thrown by the Hand. The Earth dug
out of the Fo&longs;s lies very convenient and ready
at Hand for making up the Rampart. The
Ancients for that Work very much commend
ed Turfs dug out of the Meadows with the
Gra&longs;s upon them, the Roots whereof fa&longs;ten
them very &longs;trongly together. Others intermix
them with Twigs of green Oziers, which &longs;trike
their Roots into the Rampart, and by the Con
texture of their Fibres &longs;trengthen the whole
Work. Along the inward Edge of the Fo&longs;s
and the Out&longs;ide of the Rampart &longs;et Thorns,
Spikes, Tenter-hooks and the like, to retard
the Enemy in his A&longs;cent. Let the Top of the
Rampart be girt with a &longs;trong Frame of Tim
bers joyned to one another cro&longs;&longs;ways like a
Corni&longs;h, with Hurdles and Earth well rammed
in together between them; and upon the&longs;e
rai&longs;e your Battlements, and &longs;tick in forked Pa
li&longs;adoes like Stag's Horns. In a Word, let
every Thing be &longs;o contrived in this Kind of
Structure, as to make it difficult to be either
undermined, thrown down, or mounted; and
to protect the Soldier who is to defend it. Upon the Edge of this Rampart erect Towers
at the Di&longs;tance of every hundred Feet, and
e&longs;pecially in &longs;uch Parts as are mo&longs;t likely to be
attacked, where they ought to &longs;tand clo&longs;er and
be built higher that they may the more effec
tually annoy the Enemy, when he attempts to
make his Way into the Camp. Let the
torium,
ing towards the Enemy, as al&longs;o that in the
Back of the Camp, which two Gates u&longs;ed
formerly to be called the
the
e&longs;t Parts of the Camp, and lie convenient for
making any &longs;udden Sally with the Army, or
bringing in of Provi&longs;ions, or giving a ready
Retreat to your own Men. All the&longs;e Con
veniencies belong more particularly to a &longs;tati
onary Camp, than to a flying one: But as we
ought to be provided again&longs;t all Accidents that
either Fortune or the Calamity of the Times
can produce, we &longs;hould not, even in a flying
Camp, neglect any of tho&longs;e Particulars which
we have &longs;poken of, as far as may be nece&longs;&longs;ary. Tho&longs;e Things which belong to a &longs;tationary
Camp, e&longs;pecially one that is to expect a Siege,
are very nearly the &longs;ame with tho&longs;e which we
&longs;poke of with Relation to the Citadel of a Ty
rant. A Citadel is a Structure purpo&longs;ely de
&longs;igned for the Su&longs;taining a Siege, &longs;ince the Ci
tizens always look upon it with an irreconcile
able Hatred: And it is indeed the mo&longs;t cruel
Kind of Siege that can be imagined, to be con
tinually watching it, and to be always upon the
Catch for an Opportunity that may offer, by
Means of which you may &longs;atisfy the &longs;trong De
&longs;ire you have to de&longs;troy it: And for this Rea
&longs;on, as we ob&longs;erved before, we &longs;hould take the
greate&longs;t Care to make it &longs;trong, &longs;tout, durable,
well provided for its own Defence, and for
weakening and repul&longs;ing the Enemy, and able
to defy the mo&longs;t ob&longs;tinate and violent Attacks. On the other Hand in tho&longs;e Camps, where you
are to be &longs;hut up and mole&longs;t an Enemy, all the
&longs;ame Things are to be ob&longs;erved with the &longs;ame
Care: For it is indeed a ju&longs;t Ob&longs;ervation, that
the Nature of War is &longs;uch, that he who be
&longs;ieges is in a great Mea&longs;ure be&longs;ieged him&longs;elf. For this Rea&longs;on you are to con&longs;ider not only
how you may take the Place, but al&longs;o how
you may keep your&longs;elf from being oppre&longs;&longs;ed,
either by the Boldne&longs;s or Diligence of the E
nemy, or by the Carele&longs;&longs;ne&longs;s of your own Men. In order to take the Place, you mu&longs;t proceed
either by Siege or by A&longs;&longs;ault: And to keep
your&longs;elf from being oppre&longs;&longs;ed, there are al&longs;o
two Methods, which are, being &longs;toutly fortified, The whole Pur
po&longs;e of an A&longs;&longs;ault is to break in either upon a
Town or a Fortification. I &longs;hall not &longs;peak here
either of Scaling-ladders, by Means whereof
you mount the Wall in &longs;pite of the Enemy;
nor of Mines, moveable Towers, Engines for
Battery, nor of any other Methods of Offence
either by Fire, Water, or any other Force: In
a&longs;much as we intend to treat of the&longs;e military
Engines more clearly in another Place. Thus
much it may be proper here to mention, that
again&longs;t the Violence of Battery we &longs;hould op
po&longs;e Beams, Planks, Parapets of &longs;trong Tim
ber, Hurdles, Ropes, Fa&longs;cines, Sacks &longs;tuffed
with Wool, Ru&longs;hes, or Earth; and they &longs;hould
be &longs;o contrived as to hang loo&longs;e and pliable. Again&longs;t Fire the&longs;e Things ought to be wetted,
and e&longs;pecially with Vinegar, or Mud, and co
vered with Brick unbaked; again&longs;t Water, to
prevent the Bricks from being wa&longs;hed away,
they &longs;hould be covered over with the Hides of
Bea&longs;ts; and la&longs;tly, again&longs;t Battery, that the
Hides may not be broken through or torn
away, add any coar&longs;e Cloths or Tarpawlins
thoroughly wetted and &longs;oaked. Circumvalla
tions or Trenches round the Place be&longs;ieged,
ought for &longs;everal Rea&longs;ons to be drawn pretty
near it; for by that Means their Circuit will
be le&longs;s, they will require fewer Hands, Ex
pence and Materials, to fini&longs;h them, and when
fini&longs;hed, the fewer Men will be nece&longs;&longs;ary to
defend them: But they mu&longs;t not run &longs;o clo&longs;e
under the Wall, that the Be&longs;ieged may an
noy your Men within their Trenches by En
gines upon the Wall. If the Circumvallation
be only intended to cut off from the Be&longs;ieged
all Manner of Supplies, either of Men or Pro
vi&longs;ions from without; you may do this by
&longs;topping up all the Ways and Pa&longs;&longs;ages, either
by barracading the Bridges, and Fords, and
blocking up the Roads with &longs;trong Fences of
Wood or Stones; or by running up a continu
ed Rampart to joyn together the Lakes, Bogs,
Mar&longs;hes, Rivers and Hills; or if you can any
Ways lay the Country under Water. To the&longs;e
Precautions we &longs;hould add tho&longs;e which relate
to the Defence of our own Camp: For the
Trenches, Ramparts, Towers and the like
ought to be &longs;o well fortified both towards the
Place be&longs;ieged, and on the Side of any Coun
try that might throw in Succours, that the
former may not be able to annoy you by Sallies,
nor the Latter by Incur&longs;ions. Moreover, in
convenient Places erect Watch-towers and
Forts, that your Men may go out to forage for
Wood, Water and Provi&longs;ions with Safety and
Freedom. But do not let your Troops be di&longs;
per&longs;ed up and down in Places &longs;o remote from
one another, that they cannot obey the Orders
of a &longs;ingle General, nor fight with united
Forces, nor be ready at Hand to a&longs;&longs;i&longs;t one an
other upon any &longs;udden Emergency. It will
not be foreign to our Purpo&longs;e to &longs;et down here
an Account of a Fortification out of
well worthy to be remembered. He tells us,
that when
cius Antonius
quite to the
Foot broad, and as many deep: Which he for
tified with a high Wall, and with a thou&longs;and
and fifty wooden Towers &longs;tanding up, each
three&longs;core Foot above the Wall, and made the
Whole &longs;o &longs;trong, that the Be&longs;ieged were not
more &longs;traitened in by it, than they were ex
cluded from annoying the Enemy in any Part. And thus much may &longs;uffice for Incampments
or Stations by Land, unle&longs;s it may be thought
nece&longs;&longs;ary to add, that we ought to chu&longs;e out a
Place of the greate&longs;t Dignity and Honour,
wherein to plant the Standard of the Com
monwealth with befitting Maje&longs;ty, where the
Rites of Religion may be performed with all
due Reverence, and where the Generals and
other chief Officers may meet either in Coun
cil or for the Admini&longs;tration of Ju&longs;tice.
CHAP. XII.
Parts; as al&longs;o of Havens and their proper Fortification.
Some perhaps will not allow that Fleets
are Sea Incampments; but will be rather
for &longs;aying, that we u&longs;e Ships like a Kind of
Water Elephant, which we direct as we plea&longs;e
by its Bridle; and that the Haven is much
more like a Sea Incampment, than the Fleet. Others on the Contrary, will &longs;ay, that a Ship
is no other than a travelling Fortre&longs;s. We &longs;hall
that there are two Things by Means of which
the Art of Building may contribute to the
Sa&longs;ety and Victory of Generals of Fleets and
their Forces: The Fir&longs;t con&longs;i&longs;ts in the right
Con&longs;truction and Rigging of the Ve&longs;&longs;els, and
the Second in the proper fortifying the Haven;
whether you are to go to attack the Enemy,
or to &longs;tay to defend your&longs;elf. The primary
U&longs;e of Shipping is to convey you and yours:
The Second, is to fight without Danger. The
Danger mu&longs;t ari&longs;e either from the Ships them
&longs;elves, in which Ca&longs;e it &longs;eems to be innate and
incorporate with them; or el&longs;e mu&longs;t happen to
them from without. That from without, is
from the Force and Violence of Winds and
Waves, from Rocks and Shelves; all which are
to be avoided by Experience in Sea-affairs, and
a thorough Knowledge of Places and Winds:
But the Danger incorporate and innate with
the Ve&longs;&longs;el it&longs;elf, ari&longs;es either from the De&longs;ign,
or the Timbers; again&longs;t which Defects it falls
under our Province to provide. We &longs;hould
reject all Timber that is brittle, or apt to &longs;plit,
too heavy or liable to rot &longs;oon. Nails and Pins
of Bra&longs;s or Copper, are reckoned better than
tho&longs;e of Iron. I have ob&longs;erved by Means of
Treati&longs;e was dug up out of the
where it had lain under Water above thirteen
hundred Years, that the Pine and Cypre&longs;s
Wood which was in it had remained &longs;urpriz
ingly &longs;ound. It was covered on the Out&longs;ide
with double Planks, done over with
Pitch, to which &longs;tuck a Coat of Linen Cloth,
and that again was plated over with Sheets of
Lead fa&longs;tened on with bra&longs;s Nails. The anci
ent Architects took the Model of their Ships
from the Shape of a Fi&longs;h; that Part which
was the Back of the Fi&longs;h, in the Ship was the
Keel; that which in the Fi&longs;h was the Head,
in the Ship was the Prow; the Tail was the
Helm, and in&longs;tead of Fins and Gills, they made
Oars. Ships are of two Sorts, and are built
either for Burthen or for Speed: A long Ve&longs;
&longs;el cuts its Way quicke&longs;t through the Water,
e&longs;pecially when it Sails before the Wind; but
a &longs;hort one is mo&longs;t obedient to the Helm. I
would not have the Length of a Ve&longs;&longs;el of Bur
then le&longs;s than three Times its Breadth; nor
that of a Ve&longs;&longs;el for Speed, more than nine
Times. We have treated more particularly of
every Thing relating to a Ve&longs;&longs;el in a Book in
tended wholly for that Purpo&longs;e, called the
Ship; and therefore &longs;hall have Occa&longs;ion to &longs;ay
no more of it here, than what is ju&longs;t nece&longs;&longs;ary. The Parts of a Ship are the&longs;e, the Keel, the
Poop, the Prow, the two Sides, to which you
may, if you plea&longs;e, add the Sail, the Helm,
and the Re&longs;t of the Parts that belong to the
Cour&longs;e of the Ship. The Hollow of the Ve&longs;&longs;el
will bear any Weight that is equal to the
Weight of Water that would fill it quite up to
the Top. The Keel mu&longs;t be &longs;traight, but all
the other Parts made with curve Lines. The
broader the Keel is, the greater Weight the
Ve&longs;&longs;el will carry, but then it will be the &longs;low
er; the narrower the Keel is, the Swi&longs;ter will
be the Ship, but then it will be un&longs;teady, un
le&longs;s you fill it with Balla&longs;t. The broad Keel is
mo&longs;t convenient in &longs;hallow Water; but in deep
Seas the narrow one will be more &longs;ecure. The
Sides and Prow built high will make the &longs;tout
e&longs;t Re&longs;i&longs;tance again&longs;t the Waves, but then
they are more expo&longs;ed to Danger from the
Winds; the Sharper the Head is, the Swifter
the Ship will make its Way; and the Thinner
the Stern, the more Steady will be the Ve&longs;&longs;el
in its Cour&longs;e. The Sides of the Ship towards
the Head ought to be very &longs;tout, and a little
Swelling outwards to throw off the Waves
when it ploughs through the Water both with
Sails and Oars; but towards the Stern they
&longs;hould grow narrower, in order to &longs;lip through
the Waves with the more Ea&longs;e. A Number
of Helms adds Firmne&longs;s to the Ve&longs;&longs;el, but takes
off from its Swiftne&longs;s. The Ma&longs;t &longs;hould be as
long as the whole Ship. We &longs;hall not here
de&longs;cend to other minute Particulars nece&longs;&longs;ary
both to the Way and Defence of the Ve&longs;&longs;el,
&longs;uch as Oars, Ropes, &longs;harp Beaks, Towers,
Bridges and the like; but &longs;hall only ob&longs;erve,
that the Planks and Timbers which hang
down by the Sides and &longs;tick out by the Beak
of the Ve&longs;&longs;el, will &longs;erve in&longs;tead of a Fortifica
tion again&longs;t the Attacks of the Enemy as will
Poles &longs;tuck upright, in&longs;tead of Towers, and
the Boom, or the Skiff laid over the Boom, in
&longs;tead of Bridges. The Ancients u&longs;ed in the
Prow of their Ships to place a military En
gine, which they called a
Mariners now in the Head and Stem of their
Ve&longs;&longs;els near the Ma&longs;ts have learnt to &longs;et up
Towers, which they fence round with old
coar&longs;e Cloths, Ropes, Sacks, and the like, to
deaden the Force of any Violence that might
attack them; and to keep off any Enemy that
&longs;hould attempt to board them, they &longs;et up a
Fence of Net-work. I have in another Place
contrived and &longs;hewn how the Floor of the Ship
ment, be filled with &longs;harp Points &longs;ticking up
clo&longs;e to one another, &longs;o that an Enemy can
never &longs;et his Foot any where without a Wound;
and on the other Hand when there is Occa&longs;ion,
how all the&longs;e may in le&longs;s Space of Time be all
removed and cleared away; but this is not a
proper Place for repeating it again, and it is
&longs;ufficient to have given the Hint to an ingeni
ous Mind. Moreover I have found a Way how,
with a &longs;light Stroke of a Hammer, to throw
down the whole Floor, with all the Men that
have boarded the Ve&longs;&longs;el and &longs;tand upon it, and
then again with very little Labour to replace
it as it was before, whenever it is thought ne
ce&longs;&longs;ary &longs;o to do. Neither is this a proper Place
to relate the Methods which I have invented
to &longs;ink and burn the Enemy's Ships and de
&longs;troy their Crews by mi&longs;erable Deaths. We
may perhaps &longs;peak of them el&longs;ewhere. One
Thing mu&longs;t not be omitted, namely, that Ve&longs;
&longs;els of different Heights and Sizes are requi
&longs;ite in different Places. In the
giore,
large Ship, that cannot be managed with
out a great Number of Hands, is very un
&longs;afe when the Winds are any thing boi&longs;terous:
On the Contrary out of the Strait's Mouth, in
the wide Ocean, a little Ve&longs;&longs;el will not be able
to live. To this Head of maritime Affairs al&longs;o
belong the Defending and Blocking up a Ha
ven. This may be done by &longs;inking any great
Body, or by Moles, Piers, Chains and the like,
whereof we have treated in the preceding
Book. Drive in Piles, block the Port up with
huge Stones, and &longs;ink large hollow Frames
made either of Planks or Oziers and filled
with any heavy Stuff. But if the Nature of
the Place, or the Greatne&longs;s of the Expence will
not allow of this, as for In&longs;tance, if the Bot
tom be a Sand or Mud continually moving, or
the Water be of too great a Depth, you may
then block up the Haven in the following
Manner. Make a Float of great Barrels fa&longs;ten
ed together, with Planks and Timbers joyned
cro&longs;s-ways to one another, and with large
Spikes and &longs;harp Beaks &longs;ticking out from the
Float, and Piles with Points of Iron, &longs;uch as
are called &longs;hod Piles, to the Intent that none
of the Enemy's light Ships may dare to drive
again&longs;t the Float with full Sails, in order to
endeavour to break or pa&longs;s it. Dawb the Float
over with Mud to &longs;ecure it again&longs;t Fire, and
fortify it with a Pali&longs;ado of Hurdles or &longs;trong
Boards, and in convenient Places with wooden
Towers, fa&longs;tening the whole Work again&longs;t the
Fury of the Waves with a good Number of
Anchors concealed from the Enemy. It would
not be ami&longs;s to make &longs;uch a Work &longs;inuous or
wavy, with the Backs of the Arches turned
again&longs;t the Stre&longs;s of the Weather, that the
Float may bear the lefs upon its Anchors. But upon this Subject, thus much may &longs;uffice.
CHAP. XIII.
who&longs;e Bu&longs;ine&longs;s is to &longs;upply and pre&longs;ide over the publick Granaries, Chambers
of Accompts, Ar&longs;enals, Marts, Docks and Stables; as al&longs;o of the three Sorts
of Pri&longs;ons, their Structures, Situations and Compartitions.
Now as the Execution of all the&longs;e
Things requires good Store of Provi&longs;i
ons, and of Trea&longs;ures to &longs;upply the Expence;
it will be nece&longs;&longs;ary to &longs;ay &longs;omething of the Ma
gi&longs;trates who have the Care of this Part of the
Bu&longs;ine&longs;s; as for In&longs;tance, Commi&longs;&longs;aries, Cham
berlains, publick Receivers, and the like, for
whom the following Structures mu&longs;t Be erect
ed: The Granary, the Chamber for keeping
the Trea&longs;ures, the Ar&longs;enal, the Mart or Place
for the tran&longs;acting Commerce, the Dock and
the publick Stables for Hor&longs;es. We &longs;hall have
but little to &longs;ay here upon the&longs;e Heads, but
that little mu&longs;t not be neglected. It is evident
to every Man's Rea&longs;on, that the Granary, the
Chamber of Accompts, and the Ar&longs;enal or
Magazine for Arms ought to be placed in the
Heart of the City, and in the Place of great
e&longs;t Honour, for the greater Security and Con
veniency. The Docks or Ar&longs;enals for Ship
ping &longs;hould be placed at a Di&longs;tance from the
Hou&longs;es of the Citizens, for fear of Fire. We
&longs;hould al&longs;o be &longs;ure, in this la&longs;t Sort of Struc
ture, to raife a good many entire Party-walls
quite up above the Roof, to confine the Flame,
if any &longs;hould happen, and prevent it catching
from one Roof to another. Marts ought to be
fixed by the Sea-&longs;idé, upon the Mouths of Ri
vers, and the Meeting of &longs;everal great Roads. The Docks or Ar&longs;enals for Shipping &longs;hould
have large Ba&longs;ons or Canals of Water, wherein
to receive &longs;uch Ve&longs;&longs;els as want refitting, and
from which they may be conveniently launched
out again to Sea; but we &longs;hould take Care
that this Water be not a &longs;tanding one, but be
kept in con&longs;tant Motion. Shipping is very
much rotted by &longs;outherly Winds, and cracked
by the mid-day Heat; but the A&longs;pect of the
ri&longs;ing Sun pre&longs;erves it. All Granaries, or other
Structures built for the laying up of Stores, ab
&longs;olutely require a Drine&longs;s both of Air and Si
tuation. But we &longs;hall &longs;peak more fully of
the Particulars, when we come to the Conve
niencies belonging to private Per&longs;ons, to who&longs;e
u&longs;e they are indeed referred; only we &longs;hall &longs;ay
&longs;omething here of the Places for laying up Salt. A Storehou&longs;e for Salt ought to be made in the
following Manner. Make up the Ground
with a Layer of Coal to the Height of one
Cubit or Foot and an half, and &longs;tamp it down
very tight; then &longs;trew it with Sand pounded
together with clean Chalk, to the Height of
three Hands breadths, and lay it exactly level;
and then pave it with &longs;quare Bricks baked till
they are quite black. The Face of the Walls
on the In&longs;ide ought to be made of the &longs;ame
Sort of Bricks; but if you have not a &longs;ufficient
Quantity of them, you may build it with &longs;quare
Stone, not either with &longs;oft Stone or Flint, but
with &longs;ome Stone of a middle Nature between
tho&longs;e two, only very hard; and let this Sort of
Work go the Thickne&longs;s of a Cubit into the
Wall; and then let the whole In&longs;ide be lined
with Planks of Wood, fa&longs;tened with bra&longs;s Nails,
or rather joynted together without any Nails
at all, and fill up the intermediate Space be
tween the Lining and the Wall, with Reeds. It would al&longs;o have a mighty good Effect to
dawb over the Planks with Chalk &longs;teeped in
Lees of Oil, and mixed with Spart and Ru&longs;hes
&longs;hred &longs;mall. La&longs;tly, all publick Buildings of
this Nature ought to be well fortified with
&longs;tout Walls, Towers, and Ammunition, again&longs;t
all Manner of Force, Malice, or Fraud either
of Robbers, Enemies or &longs;editious Citizens. I
think I have now &longs;aid enough of publick
Structures, unle&longs;s it may be thought nece&longs;&longs;ary
to con&longs;ider of one Particular more which con
cerns the Magi&longs;trate, and that not a little;
namely, that it is nece&longs;&longs;ary he &longs;hould have
Places for the Confinement of &longs;uch as he has
condemned either for Contumacy, Treachery
or Villany. I ob&longs;erve that the Ancients had
three Sorts of Pri&longs;ons. The fir&longs;t was that
wherein they kept the Di&longs;orderly and the Igno
rant, to the Intent that every Night they might
be doctored and in&longs;tructed by learned and able
Profe&longs;&longs;ors of the be&longs;t Arts, in tho&longs;e Points
which related to good Manners and an hone&longs;t
Life. The Second was for the Confinement
of Debtors, and for the Reformation of &longs;uch
as were got into a licentious Way of Living. The la&longs;t was for the mo&longs;t wicked Wretches and
horrid Profligates, unworthy of the Light of the
Sun or the Society of Mankind, and &longs;oon to be
delivered over to capital Puni&longs;hment or perpe
tual Impri&longs;onment and Mi&longs;ery. If any Man is
of Opinion that this la&longs;t Sort of Pri&longs;on ought
to be made like &longs;ome &longs;ubterraneous Cavern, or
frightful Sepulchre, he has certainly a greater
Regard to the Puni&longs;hment of the Criminal than
is agreeable either to the De&longs;ign of the Law or
to Humanity; and though wicked Men do by
their Crimes de&longs;erve the highe&longs;t Puni&longs;hment,
yet the Prince or Commonwealth ought never
to forget Mercy in the Mid&longs;t of Ju&longs;tice. There
fore let it be &longs;ufficient to make this Sort of
Buildings very &longs;trong and &longs;ecure, with &longs;tout
Walls, Roofs and Apertures, that the Per&longs;on
confined may have no Means of making his
E&longs;cape; which may in a great Mea&longs;ure be ob
tained, by the Thickne&longs;s, Depth and Height of
the Walls, and their being built with very hard
and large Stones, joyned together with Pins of
Iron or Bra&longs;s. To this you may, if you plea&longs;e,
add Windows grated with &longs;trong Bars of Iron
or Wood; though in reality nothing of this Sort
what&longs;oever can fully &longs;ecure a Pri&longs;oner always
thoughtful of his Liberty and Safety, nor pre
vent his making his E&longs;cape, if you let him u&longs;e
the Strength which Nature and Cunning have
be&longs;towed upon him, and on which Account
there is an excellent Admonition contained in
this Saying, that the vigilant Eye of a Goaler is
a Pri&longs;on of Adamant. But in other Re&longs;pects,
let us follow the Method and Cu&longs;toms of the
Ancients. We mu&longs;t remember that in a Pri
&longs;on there mu&longs;t be Privies and Hearths for Fire,
which ought to be contrived to be without
either Smoake or ill Smells. the following
Plan of an entire Pri&longs;on may an&longs;wer all the a
forementioned Purpo&longs;es. Enclo&longs;e with very
high and &longs;trong Walls, without any Apertures,
frequented Part of the City, and fortify it with
Towers and Galleries. From this Wall in
wards the Apartments where the Pri&longs;oners are
to be confined, let there be an open Walk
about four Foot and an half wide, where the
Keepers may take their Rounds every Night
to prevent any E&longs;capes by Con&longs;piracy among the
Pri&longs;oners. The Space remaining in the Mid
dle of this Circuit divide in the following Man
ner. In&longs;tead of a Ve&longs;tibule make a good plea
&longs;ant Hall, where tho&longs;e may be in&longs;tructed who
are &longs;ent thither in order to be forced to learn
how to demean them&longs;elves. Next to this Hall,
make Habitations for the Goalers and Places
for them to keep guard in, within an Enclo&longs;ure
of Lattices and Cro&longs;s-bars. Next let there be
an open Court, with Porticoes on each Side of
it, with Windows in them, through which you
may &longs;ee into all the Cells within; in which
Cells Bankrupts and Debtors are to be confin
ed, not all together, but in different Apart
ments. In the Front of this Court there mu&longs;t
be a clo&longs;er Pri&longs;on, for &longs;uch as are guilty of
&longs;mall Offences, and beyond that a Place where
Pri&longs;oners for capital Crimes may be confined
with yet greater Strictne&longs;s and Privacy.
CHAP. XIV.
the Rules to be ob&longs;erved in its Situation and Structure.
I now come to treat of private Edifices.
I
have already ob&longs;erved el&longs;ewhere, that a
Hou&longs;e is a little City. We are therefore in the
building of it, to have an Eye almo&longs;t to every
Thing that relates to the Building of a City;
that it be healthy, furni&longs;hed with all Manner
of Nece&longs;&longs;aries, not defficient in any of the Con
veniencies that conduce to the Repo&longs;e, Tran
quility or Delicacy of Life. What tho&longs;e are
and how they are to be obtained, I think I have
already, in a great Mea&longs;ure, &longs;hewn in the pre
ceding Books. However, as the Occa&longs;ion here
is different, we &longs;hall con&longs;ider them over again
in the following Manner. A private Hou&longs;e is
manife&longs;tly de&longs;igned for the U&longs;e of a Family,
to which it ought to be a u&longs;eful and conveni
ent Abode. It will not be &longs;o convenient as it
ought, if it has not every Thing within it&longs;elf
that the Family has Occa&longs;ion for. There is a
great Number of Per&longs;ons and Things in a Fa
mily, which you cannot di&longs;tribute as you would
in a City &longs;o well as you can in the Country. In building a Hou&longs;e in Town, your Neigh
bour's Wall, a common Gutter, a publick
Square or Street, and the like, &longs;hall all hinder
you from contriving it ju&longs;t to your own Mind;
which is not &longs;o in the Country, where you have
as much Freedom as you have Ob&longs;truction in
Town. For this, and other Rea&longs;ons, there
fore, I &longs;hall di&longs;tingui&longs;h the Matter thus: That
the Habitation for a private Per&longs;on mu&longs;t be
different in Town from what it is in the Coun
try. In both the&longs;e there mu&longs;t again be a Dif
ference between tho&longs;e which are for the meaner
Sort of Citizens, and tho&longs;e which are for the
Rich. The meaner Sort build only for Ne
ce&longs;&longs;ity; but the Rich for Plea&longs;ure and Delight. I &longs;hall &longs;et down &longs;uch Rules as the Mode&longs;ty of
the wi&longs;e&longs;t Men may approve of in all Sorts of
Buildings, and for that Purpo&longs;e &longs;hall begin
with tho&longs;e which are mo&longs;t ea&longs;y. Habitations
in the Country are the free&longs;t from all Ob&longs;truc
tions, and therefore People are more inclined to
be&longs;tow their Expence in the Country than in
Town. We &longs;hall therefore fir&longs;t take a Review
of &longs;ome Ob&longs;ervations which we have already
made, and which are very material with Re
lation to the chief U&longs;es of a Country Hou&longs;e. They are as follows: We &longs;hould carefully avoid
a bad Air and an ill Soil. We &longs;hould build
in the Middle of an open Champian, under the
Shelter of &longs;ome Hill, where there is Plenty of
Water, and plea&longs;ant Pro&longs;pects, and in the
healthie&longs;t Part of a healthy Country. A heavy
unhealthy Air is &longs;aid to be occa&longs;ioned not on
ly by tho&longs;e Inconveniencies which we mention
ed in the fir&longs;t Book, but al&longs;o by thick Woods,
e&longs;pecially if they are full of Trees with bitter
Leaves; becau&longs;e the Air in &longs;uch Places being
not kept in Motion either by Sun or Winds,
wants its due Concoction; it is al&longs;o occa&longs;ioned
by a barren and unwhol&longs;ome Soil, which will
never produce any Thing but Woods. A
Country Hou&longs;e ought to &longs;tand in &longs;uch a Place
as may lie mo&longs;t convenient for the Owner's
Hou&longs;e in Town.
of Exerci&longs;e, and return on Hor&longs;eback. It ought
not therefore to lie far from the City, and the
Way to it &longs;hould be both good and clear, &longs;o as
he may go it either in Summer or Winter, either
in a Coach, or on Foot, and if po&longs;&longs;ible by
Water. It will be al&longs;o very convenient to have
your Way to it lie through a Gate of the City
that is not far from your Town Hou&longs;e, but as
near it as may be, that you may go backwards
and forwards from Town to Country, and from
Country to Town, with your Wife and Fami
ly, as often as you plea&longs;e, without being too
much ob&longs;erved by the People, or being obliged
in the lea&longs;t to con&longs;ult your Dre&longs;s. It is not
ami&longs;s to have a Villa &longs;o placed, that when you
go to it in a Morning the Rays of the ri&longs;ing
Sun may not be trouble&longs;ome to your Eyes, nor
tho&longs;e of the &longs;etting Sun in the Evening when
you return to the City. Neither &longs;hould a Coun
try Hou&longs;e &longs;tand in a remote, de&longs;art, mean Cor
ner, di&longs;tant from a rea&longs;onable Neighbourhood:
but in a Situation where you may have Peo
ple to conver&longs;e with, drawn to the &longs;ame Place
by the Fruitfulne&longs;s of the Soil, the Plea&longs;antne&longs;s
of the Air, the Plentifulne&longs;s of the Country,
the Sweetne&longs;s of the Fields, and the Security of
the Neighbourhood. Nor &longs;hould a Villa be
&longs;eated in a Place of too much Re&longs;ort, near ad
joyning either to the City, or any great Road,
or to a Port where great Numbers of Ve&longs;&longs;els
and Boats are continually putting in; but in
&longs;uch a Situation, as though none of tho&longs;e Plea
&longs;ures may be wanting, yet your Family may
not be eternally mole&longs;ted with the Vi&longs;its of
Strangers and Pa&longs;&longs;engers. The Ancients &longs;ay
that in windy Places Things are never &longs;poilt
by Ru&longs;t or Mildew; but in moi&longs;t Places, and
low Vallies, where the Winds have not a free
Cour&longs;e, they are very much expo&longs;ed to them. I cannot approve of one general Rule which is
laid down for all Places, namely, that a Coun
try Hou&longs;e ought to be built &longs;o as to look to
wards the ri&longs;ing of the Sun when it is in the
Equinox: For nothing can be &longs;aid relating to
the Sun and Winds but what mu&longs;t alter accord
ing to the Difference of the Climate, &longs;ince the
North Wind is not light and the South un
healthy in all Places.
very well ob&longs;erved that all Winds which blow
from the Sea, are gro&longs;&longs;er than tho&longs;e which
blow over Land, which are always lighter. Upon this Account of the Winds we ought to
avoid the Mouths of all Vallies, becau&longs;e in &longs;uch
Places the Winds are too cold if they come in
the Night, or too hot, if in the Day, being
over-heated by the too great Reflection of the
Sun's Rays.
CHAP. XV.
Members whether for the Lodging of Men, Animals, or Tools of Agricul
ture and other nece&longs;&longs;ary In&longs;truments.
But as of Habitations in the Country &longs;ome
are de&longs;igned for Gentlemen, others for
Hu&longs;bandmen, &longs;ome invented for U&longs;e, others
perhaps for Plea&longs;ure; we &longs;hall begin with tho&longs;e
which belong to Husbandmen. The Habita
tions of the&longs;e ought not to be far from their
Ma&longs;ter's Hou&longs;e, that he may be at Hand to
over-look them every now and then, to &longs;ee
what they are doing, and what Orders it is
nece&longs;&longs;ary for him to give. The peculiar Bu&longs;i
ne&longs;s of the&longs;e Structures is for the getting in,
ordering and pre&longs;erving the Fruits of the Earth:
Unle&longs;s you will &longs;ay that this la&longs;t Office, name
ly, of pre&longs;erving the Grain, belongs rather to
the Hou&longs;e of the Ma&longs;ter, and even rather to his
Hou&longs;e in the City than to that in the Country. This Bu&longs;ine&longs;s is to be done by a Number of
Hands and a good Quantity of Tools, but mo&longs;t
of all by the Diligence and Indu&longs;try of the
Farmer or Over&longs;eer. The Ancients comput
ed the nece&longs;&longs;ary Family of a Farmer to be
about fifteen Per&longs;ons; for the&longs;e therefore you
mu&longs;t have convenient Places where they may
warm them&longs;elves when they are cold, or retire
for Shelter when they are driven from their
Labour by foul Weather, where they may eat
their Meals, re&longs;t them&longs;elves and prepare the
Things they will want in their Bu&longs;ine&longs;s. Make
therefore a large Kitchen, not ob&longs;cure, nor li
able to Danger from Fire, with an Oven, Stove,
Pump and Sink. Beyond the Kitchen let there
be a Room where the better Sort among your
People may lie, and a Larder for pre&longs;erving all
Sorts of Provi&longs;ions for daily U&longs;e. Let all the
may be near tho&longs;e Things which are under his
particular Care. Let the Over&longs;eer lie near the
principal Gate, that nobody may pa&longs;s and re
pa&longs;s or carry any Thing out in the Night with
out his Knowledge. Let tho&longs;e who have the
Care of the Cattle, lie near the Stable, that
they may be always at Hand to keep every
Thing in good Order. And this may be &longs;uf
ficient with Relation to your People. Of
Tools or In&longs;truments, &longs;ome are animate, as
Cattle; and &longs;ome inanimate, as Carts, all Sorts
of iron Tools, and the like; for the&longs;e erect on
one Side of the Kitchen a large Shed under
which you may &longs;et your Cart, Plough, Har
row, Yoke, Hay-baskets, and the like Uten&longs;ils;
and let this Shed have a South A&longs;pect, that in
Winter Time the Family may divert them&longs;elves
under it on Holydays. Make a very large
and neat Place for your Pre&longs;&longs;es both of Wine
and Oil. Let there be al&longs;o a Store-hou&longs;e for
the laying up and pre&longs;erving your Mea&longs;ures,
Hampers, Baskets, Cordage, Houghs, Pitch
forks and &longs;o forth. Over the Rafters that run
acro&longs;s within the Shed, you may &longs;pread Hur
dles, and upon them you may lay up Poles,
Rods, Staves, Boughs, Leaves and Fodder for
your Oxen, Hemp and Flax unwrought, and
&longs;uch like Stores. Cattle is of two Sorts; one,
for Labour; as Oxen and Hor&longs;es; the other,
for Profit, as Hogs, Sheep, Goats, and all Sorts
of Herds. We &longs;hall &longs;peak fir&longs;t of the labour
ing Sort, becau&longs;e they &longs;eem to come under the
Head of In&longs;truments; and afterwards we &longs;hall
&longs;ay &longs;omething of tho&longs;e which are for Profit,
which belong properly to the Indu&longs;try of your
Over&longs;eer or Farmer. Let the Stables for Hor&longs;es,
and for Oxen, and all other black Cattle, be
warm in Winter, and let their Racks be &longs;trong
and well fenced, that they may not &longs;catter their
Meat. Let the Hay for the Hor&longs;es be above
them, that they may not reach it without &longs;ome
Pains, and that they may be forced to rai&longs;e
their Heads high for it, which makes their
Heads drier and their Shoulders lighter. On
the Contrary, let their Oats and other Grain
lie &longs;o as they may be forced to &longs;toop low for
it; which will prevent their taking too large
Mouthfuls, and &longs;wallowing too much whole;
be&longs;ides that it will &longs;trengthen their Brea&longs;t and
Mu&longs;cles. But above all you mu&longs;t take parti
cular Care that the Wall behind the Manger,
again&longs;t which the Hor&longs;e's Head is to &longs;tand, be
not damp. The Bone which covers the Hor&longs;e's
Brain is &longs;o thin, that it will bear neither Damp
nor Cold; and therefore take Care al&longs;o that the
Moon's Beams do not come in at the Win
dows; which are very apt to make him Wall
eyed and to give him grievous Coughs; and
indeed the Moon's Beams are as bad as a Pe&longs;
tilence to any Cattle that are infirm. Let the
Oxe's Manger be &longs;et lower, that he may eat as
he lyes. If Hor&longs;es &longs;ee the Fire, they are pro
digiou&longs;ly frightened and will grow rugged. Oxen are plea&longs;ed with the Sight of Men.
If a
Mule is &longs;et up in a hot or dark Place, &longs;he runs
Mad. Some think the Mule does not want &longs;o
much as the lea&longs;t Shelter for any other Part
but her Head, and that it is not at all the
Wor&longs;e if her other Parts are expo&longs;ed to Dews
and Colds. Let the Ground under the Oxen
be paved with Stone, that the Filth and Dung
may not rot their Hoofs. Under Hor&longs;es, make
a Trench in the Pavement, and cover it with
Planks of Holm or Oak, that their Urine may
not &longs;ettle under them, and that by their pawing
they may not &longs;poil both their Hoofs and the
Pavement.
CHAP. XVI.
all Sorts of Animals, as about the Fruits of the Earth; as al&longs;o of the Con
&longs;truction of the Thre&longs;hing-floor.
We &longs;hall ju&longs;t briefly mention that the
Indu&longs;try of the Over&longs;eer, is not only
to be employed about gathering in the Fruits
of the Earth, but al&longs;o about the Management
and Improvement of Cattle, Fowls, Fi&longs;h and
other Animals. Set the Stalls for Cattle in a
dry Place, and never in a Damp one; clear
away every little Stone from under them, and
make them with a Slope, that you may ea&longs;ily
&longs;weep and clean them; let one Part of them
be covered, and the other open, and take Care
that no &longs;outherly or other moi&longs;t Wind can af
fect the Cattle in the Night, and that they be
&longs;heltered from all other trouble&longs;ome Bla&longs;ts.
of &longs;quare Stone, with its Foundations dug &longs;o
low as to be in Water; within the Space en
clo&longs;ed make a Floor of male Sand, with little
Hillocks here and there of Fuller's Earth. Let
your Poultry have a Shed in the Yard facing
the South, and thick &longs;trewed with A&longs;hes, and
over this Places for them to lay their Eggs,
and Perches to roo&longs;t upon in the Night. Some
are for keeping their Poultry in large Coops in
&longs;ome hand&longs;ome inclofed Area facing the Ea&longs;t;
but tho&longs;e that are defigned for laying and
hatching of Eggs, as they are more cheerful,
having their Liberty, &longs;o too they are more
fruitful; whereas, tho&longs;e which are kept in a
dark confined Place, &longs;eldom bring their Eggs
to any Thing. Place your Dove-hou&longs;e &longs;o as
to be in View of Water, and do not make it
too lofty, but of &longs;uch an ea&longs;y Heigth, that the
Pidgeons wearied with flying, or after &longs;porting
about in the Air with one another, may gent
ly glide down upon it with Ea&longs;e and Plea&longs;ure. Some there are who &longs;ay that when the Pidgeon
has found her Meat in the Field, the farther &longs;he
has it to carry to her Young, the Fatter &longs;he
makes them with it; and the Rea&longs;on they give
is, becau&longs;e the Meat which they carry Home
to feed their Young in their Crop, by &longs;taying
there a good While is half concocted; and up
on this Account, they are for placing the Dove
hou&longs;e on &longs;ome very high &longs;teep Situation. They
think too, that it is be&longs;t for the Dove-hou&longs;e to
be at a pretty good Di&longs;tance from its Water,
that the Pidgeons may not chill their Eggs by
coming to them with their Feet wet. If in
one Corner of the Tower you enclo&longs;e a Ka&longs;trel,
it will &longs;ecure your Dove-hou&longs;e from Birds of
Prey. If under the Door you bury the Head
of a Wolf &longs;trewed over with Cummin-&longs;eed, in
an earthen Ve&longs;&longs;el full of Holes for the Smell to
get out, it will bring you an infinite Number
of Pidgeons. If you make your Dove-hou&longs;e
Floor of Chalk, and wet it thoroughly with
Man's Urine, you will bring Multitudes of
Pidgeons from the Seats of their Ance&longs;tors, to
take up their Abode with you. Before the
Windows let there be Cornices of Stone, or of
Olive-wood, projecting out a Cubit, for the
Pidgeons to light upon at their coming Home,
and to take their Flight from at their going
Abroad. If the Young ones which are con
fined have a View of Trees and the Sky before
they can fly, it will make them Droop and
Pine away. Other &longs;maller Birds which you
have a De&longs;ire to breed, ought to have their
Ne&longs;ts and Apartments made for them in &longs;ome
warm Place. Tho&longs;e which walk more than
they fly, &longs;hould have them low, and upon the
Ground it&longs;elf; for others they &longs;hould be made
higher. Each &longs;hould have a &longs;eparate Apart
ment, divided by Partitions on each Side to
keep their Eggs or Young from falling out of
the Ne&longs;t. Clay is better to make the Ne&longs;ts of
than Lime, and Lime than Terra&longs;s. All Sort
of old Stone new cut is bad; Bricks are better
than Turf, if not too much baked. The Wood
either of Poplar or Fir is very u&longs;eful. All the
Apartments for Birds ought to be &longs;mooth, clean
and &longs;weet, and e&longs;pecially &longs;or Pidgeons. Even
four footed Bea&longs;ts, if kept na&longs;ty, will grow
Scabby. Let every Part, therefore, be well
done over with Rough-ca&longs;t, and plai&longs;tered and
white wa&longs;hed, not leaving the lea&longs;t Cranny un
&longs;topped, that Pole-cats, Weezels, Newts, or the
like Vermin may not de&longs;troy the Eggs, or the
Young, or prejudice the Wall; and be &longs;ure to
make convenient Places to keep their Meat and
Water in. It will be very Convenient for this
Purpo&longs;e to have a Moat quite round your Hou&longs;e,
wherein your Gee&longs;e, Ducks, Hogs and Cows
may water and wa&longs;h them&longs;elves, and near
which, in all Weathers, they may have as much
Meat lying ready for them as they will eat. Let the Water and Meat for your &longs;maller
Fowls be kept in Tunnels along the Wall, &longs;o
that they may not &longs;eatter or dirty it with their
Feet; and you may have Pipes into the&longs;e Tun
nels from without, through which you may
convey their Food into them. In the Middle,
let there be a Place for them to wa&longs;h in, with
a con&longs;tant &longs;upply of clean Water. Make your
Pi&longs;h-pond in a chalky Soil, and dig it &longs;o deep
that the Water may neither be over heated by
the Rays of the Sun, nor too ea&longs;ily frozen up
by the Cold. Moreover, make &longs;ome Caverns
in the Sides, for the Fi&longs;h to run into upon any
&longs;udden Di&longs;turbance of the Water, that they
may not be wa&longs;ted and worn away by conti
nual Alarms. Fi&longs;h are nouri&longs;hed by the Juices
of the Earth; great Heat torments them, and
extreme Fro&longs;t kills them; but they are very
much plea&longs;ed and delighted by the Mid-day
Sun. It is thought not ami&longs;s to have the tur
bid Floods after Rains flow into the Pond &longs;ome
times; but never upon the fir&longs;t Rain after the
Dog-days; becau&longs;e they then have a &longs;trong
Tincture of Lime, and will kill the Fi&longs;h; and
afterwards too they &longs;hould be admitted but
rarely, becau&longs;e their &longs;tinking Slime is apt to
prejudice both the Fi&longs;h and Water too; but
Reflux of Water, either from &longs;ome Spring,
River, Lake or Sea. But concerning Fi&longs;h
ponds which are to be &longs;upplied by the Sea-wa
ter, the Ancients have given us fuller In&longs;truc
tions, in the following Manner. A muddy Soil
affords the be&longs;t Nourithment for flat Fi&longs;h, &longs;uch
as Soals and the like, and a &longs;andy is be&longs;t for
&longs;hell Fi&longs;h. The Sea it&longs;elf is be&longs;t for others, as
the Dory and Shark; and the Sea-thru&longs;t and
Whiting feed be&longs;t among the Rocks where
they are naturally bred La&longs;tly, they &longs;ay that
there can be no better Pond for keeping Fi&longs;h
in, than one &longs;o &longs;ituated that the Waves of the
Sea which flow into it are continually remov
ing tho&longs;e which were in it before, not &longs;uffering
the Water ever to &longs;tagnate, and that the &longs;lower
the Water is in renewing, the le&longs;s whole&longs;ome
it is. And thus much may &longs;uffice as to the
Care and Indu&longs;try of the Farmer or Over&longs;eer,
in the Affairs abovementioned. But we mu&longs;t
not here omit the chief Thing needful with Re
lation to the gathering together and &longs;toring up
the Fruits of the Harve&longs;t, and that is the
Thre&longs;hing-floor which ought to lie open to the
Sun and Air, and not far from the Shed men
tioned before, that upon any &longs;udden Rain you
may immediately remove both your Grain and
Workmen into Shelter. In order to make your
Floor, you need not give your&longs;elf the Trouble
to lay the Ground exactly level; but only
plain it pretty even, and then dig it up and
throw a good Quantity of Lees of Oil upon it,
and let it &longs;oak in thoroughly; then break the
Clods very &longs;mall and lay them down even,
either with a Roller or a Harrow, and beat it
down clo&longs;e with a Rammer; then pour &longs;ome
more Lees of Oil upon it, and when this is
dried into it, neither Mice, nor Ants will come
a-near it, neither will it ever grow poachy or
produce Gra&longs;s or Weeds. Chalk likewi&longs;e adds
a good Deal of Firmne&longs;s to a Work of this
Nature. And thus much for the Habitation
of the Labourers.
CHAP. XVII.
Di&longs;po&longs;ition of each of tho&longs;e Parts.
Some are of Opinion that a Gentleman's
Country Hou&longs;e &longs;hould have quite diffe
rent Conveniencies for Summer and for Win
ter; and the Rules they give for this Purpo&longs;e
are the&longs;e: The Bed-chambers for the Winter
&longs;hould look towards the Point at which the
Sun ri&longs;es in Winter, and the Parlour, towards
the Equinoctial Sun-&longs;etting; whereas the Bed
chambers for Summer &longs;hould look to the South,
the Parlours, to the Winter Sun-ri&longs;ing, and the
Portico or Place for walking in, to the South. But, in my Opinion, all the&longs;e Conveniencies
ought to be varied according to the Difference
of the Country and Climate, &longs;o as to temper
Heat by Cold and Dry by Moi&longs;t. I do not
think it nece&longs;&longs;ary for the Gentleman's Hou&longs;e
to &longs;tand in the mo&longs;t fruitful Part of his whole
E&longs;tate, but rather in the mo&longs;t Honourable,
where he can uncontrolled enjoy all the Plea&longs;ures
and Conveniencies of Air, Sun, and fine Pro
&longs;pects, go down ea&longs;ily at any Time into his
E&longs;tate, receive Strangers hand&longs;omely and &longs;paci
ou&longs;ly, be &longs;een by Pa&longs;&longs;engers for a good Way
round, and have a View of &longs;ome City, Towns,
the Sea, an open Plain, and the Tops of &longs;ome
known Hills and Mountains. Let him have
the Delights of Gardens, and the Diver&longs;ions of
Fi&longs;hing and Hunting clo&longs;e under his Eye. We
have in another Place ob&longs;erved, that of the dif
ferent Members of a Hou&longs;e, &longs;ome belong to the
whole Family in general, other to a certain
Number of Per&longs;ons in it, and others again on
ly to one or more Per&longs;ons &longs;eparately. In our
Country Hou&longs;e, with Regard to tho&longs;e Members
which belong to the whole Family in general,
let us imitate the Prince's Palace. Before the
Door let there be a large open Space, for the
Exerci&longs;es either of Chariot or Hor&longs;e Racing,
much longer than a Youth can either draw a
Bow or throw a Dart. Within the Hou&longs;e,
with Regard to tho&longs;e Conveniencies nece&longs;&longs;ary
for a Number of Per&longs;ons in the Family, let
there not be wanting open Places for Walking,
Swimming, and other Diver&longs;ions, Court-yards,
Gra&longs;s-plots and Porticoes, where the old Men
may chat together in the kindly Warmth of
the Sun in Winter, and where the Family may
divert them&longs;elves and enjoy the Shade in Sum
mer. It is manife&longs;t &longs;ome Parts of the Hou&longs;e
are for the Family them&longs;elves, and others for The Family con&longs;i&longs;ts of the following Per&longs;ons:
The Husband, the Wife, their Children and
Relations, and all the different Sorts of Ser
vants attendant upon the&longs;e; be&longs;ides which,
Gue&longs;ts too are to be reckoned as Part of the
Family. The Things u&longs;e&longs;ul to the Family are
Provi&longs;ions and all Manner of Nece&longs;&longs;aries, &longs;uch
as Cloths, Arms, Books, and Hor&longs;es al&longs;o. The
principal Member of the whole Building, is
that which (whatever Names others may give
it) I &longs;hall call the Court-yard with its Portico;
next to this is the Parlour, within this the Bed
chambers, and la&longs;tly, the private Rooms for
the particular U&longs;es of each Per&longs;on in the Fa
mily. The other Members of the Hou&longs;e are
&longs;ufficiently known by their U&longs;es. The Court
yard therefore is the principal Member, to
which all the other &longs;maller Members mu&longs;t cor
re&longs;pond, as being in a Manner a publick Mar
ket-place to the whole Hou&longs;e, which from this
Court-yard derives all the Advantages of Com
munication and Light. For this Rea&longs;on every
one de&longs;ires to have his Court-yard as &longs;pacious,
large, open, hand&longs;ome and convenient as po&longs;
&longs;ible. Some content them&longs;elves with one Court
yard, others are for having more, and for en
clo&longs;ing them all with very high Walls, or &longs;ome
with higher and &longs;ome with lower; and they
are for having them &longs;ome covered and others
open, and others again half covered and half
uncovered; in &longs;ome they would have a Portico
only on one Side, in others on two or more,
and in others all round; and the&longs;e Porticoes,
la&longs;tly, &longs;ome would build with flat, others with
arched Roo&longs;s. Upon the&longs;e Heads I have no
thing more to &longs;ay, but that Regard mu&longs;t be had
to the Climate and Sea&longs;on, and to Nece&longs;&longs;ity
and Convenience; &longs;o as in cold Countries to
ward again&longs;t the bleak North-wind, and the
Severity of the Air and Soil; and in hot Cli
mates, to avoid the trouble&longs;ome and &longs;corching
Rays of the Sun. Admit the plea&longs;ante&longs;t
Breezes on all Sides, and &longs;uch a grate&longs;ul Quan
tity of Light as is nece&longs;&longs;ary; but do not let
your Court-yard be expo&longs;ed to any noxious
Vapours exhaled from any damp Place, nor to
frequent ha&longs;ty Showers from &longs;ome overlooking
Hill in the Neighbourhood. Exactly an&longs;wer
ing the Middle of your Court-yard place your
Entrance, with a hand&longs;ome Ve&longs;tibule, neither
narrow, difficult or ob&longs;cure. Let the fir&longs;t Room
that offers it&longs;elf be a Chapel dedicated to God,
with its Altar, where Strangers and Gue&longs;ts may
offer their Devotions, beginning their Friend
&longs;hip by Religion; and where the Father of the
Family may put up his Prayers for the Peace
of his Hou&longs;e and the Welfare of his Relations. Here let him embrace tho&longs;e who come to vi&longs;it
him, and if any Cau&longs;e be referred to him by his
Friends, or he has any other &longs;erious Bu&longs;ine&longs;s
of that Nature to tran&longs;act, let him do it in this
Place. Nothing is hand&longs;omer in the Middle
of the Portico, than Windows of Gla&longs;s, through
which you may receive the Plea&longs;ure either of
Sun or Air, according to the Sea&longs;on.
&longs;ays, that Windows looking to the South, re
ceive a pure Sun and a clear Light; and the
Ancients thought it be&longs;t to place their Porti
coes fronting the South, becau&longs;e the Sun in
Summer running his Cour&longs;e higher, did not
throw in his Rays, where they would enter in
Winter. The Pro&longs;pect of Hills to the South,
when tho&longs;e Hills, on the Side which you have
a View of, are continually covered with Clouds
and Vapours, is not very plea&longs;ant, if they are
at a great Di&longs;tance; and if they are near, and
in a Manner ju&longs;t over your Head, they will
incommode you with chill Shadows and cold
Rimes; but if they are at a convenient Dif
tance, they are both plea&longs;ant and convenient,
becau&longs;e they defend you from the &longs;outhern
Winds. Hills towards the North reverberating
the Rays of the Sun, encrea&longs;e the Heat; but at
a pretty good Di&longs;tance, they are very delight
ful, becau&longs;e the Clearne&longs;s of the Air, which is
always &longs;erene in &longs;uch a Situation, and the
Brightne&longs;s of the Sun, which it always enjoys,
is extremely chearful to the Sight. Hills to the
Ea&longs;t and &longs;o likewi&longs;e to the We&longs;t, will make
your Mornings cold and the Dews plenti&longs;ul,
if they are near you; but both, if at &longs;ome toler
able Di&longs;tance, are wonderfully Plea&longs;ant. So
too, Rivers and Lakes are inconvenient if too
near, and afford no Delight, if too far off:
Whereas, on the Contrary, the Sea, if it is at
a large Di&longs;tance, makes both your Air and Sun
unhealthy; but when it is clo&longs;e to you, it does
you le&longs;s Harm, becau&longs;e then you have always
an Equality in your Air. Indeed there is this
to be &longs;aid, that when it is at a great Di&longs;tance,
it encrea&longs;es the De&longs;ire we have to &longs;ee it. There
is a good Deal too in the Point to which we
lie open to it: For if you are expo&longs;ed to the
Sea towards the South, it &longs;corches you; if to
wards the Ea&longs;t, it infe&longs;ts you with Damps; if
to the We&longs;t, it makes your Air cloudy and full
of Vapours; and if to the North, it chills you
with exce&longs;&longs;ive Cold. From the Court-yard
we proceed to the Parlours, which mu&longs;t be
n Summer, others in Winter; and others as we
may &longs;ay in the middle Sea&longs;ons. Parlours for
Summer require Water and the Verdure of
Gardens; tho&longs;e for Winter, mu&longs;t be warm and
have good Fire-places. Both &longs;hould be large,
plea&longs;ant and delicate. There are many Ar
guments to convince us that Chimnies were in
U&longs;e among the Ancients; but not &longs;uch as ours
are now. One of the Ancients &longs;ays, the Tops
of the Hou&longs;es &longs;moke,
And we find it continues the &longs;ame all over
Chimnies ri&longs;e higher than the Tops of the
Hou&longs;es.
lours it is ridiculous to adorn the Ceiling with
hand&longs;ome Painting, becau&longs;e it will be pre&longs;ent
ly &longs;poilt by the con&longs;tant Smoke and continual
Fires; for which Rea&longs;on the Ancients u&longs;ed to
paint tho&longs;e Ceilings with Black, that it might
&longs;eem to be done by the Smoke it&longs;elf. I find
too, that they made U&longs;e of a purified Sort of
Wood, that was quite clear of Smoke, like our
Charcoal, upon which Account it was a Di&longs;
pute among the Lawyers, whether or no Coal
was to come under the Denomination of Wood;
and therefore it is probable they generally u&longs;ed
moveable Hearths or Chafing-pans either of
Bra&longs;s or Iron, which they carried from Place to
Place where-everthey had Occa&longs;ion to make a
Fire. And perhaps that warlike Race of Men,
hardened by continual Incampments, did not
make &longs;o much U&longs;e of Fire as we do now; and
Phy&longs;icians will not allow it whole&longs;ome, to be
too much by the Fire-&longs;ide.
that the Fle&longs;h of Animals gains its Firmne&longs;s
and Solidity from Cold; and tho&longs;e who&longs;e Bu&longs;i
ne&longs;s it is to take Notice of Things of this Na
ture have ob&longs;erved, that tho&longs;e working Men
who are continually employed about the Fur
nace have generally dry wrinkled Skins; the
Rea&longs;on of which they &longs;ay is, becau&longs;e the Jui
ces, of which the Fle&longs;h is formed, are exhau&longs;t
ed by the Fire, and evaporate in Steam. In
is ab&longs;olutely nece&longs;&longs;ary again&longs;t the extreme
Cold, they make U&longs;e of Stoves; of which we
&longs;hall &longs;peak el&longs;ewhere. Let us return to the
Chimney, which may be be&longs;t made &longs;erviceable
in the following Manner. It mu&longs;t be as direct
as po&longs;&longs;ible, capacious, not too far from the
Light, it mu&longs;t not draw the Wind too much,
but enough however to carry up the Smoke,
which el&longs;e would not go up the Tunnel. For
the&longs;e Rea&longs;ons do not make it ju&longs;t in a Corner,
nor too far within the Wall, nor let it take up
the be&longs;t Part of the Room where your chief
Gue&longs;ts ought to &longs;it. Do not let it be in
commoded by the Air either of Doors or Win
dows, nor &longs;hould it project too &longs;ar out into the
Room. Let its Tunnel be very wide and car
ried up perpendicular, and let the Top of it
ri&longs;e above the highe&longs;t Part of the whole Build
ing; and this not only upon Account of the
Danger of Fire, but al&longs;o to prevent the Smoke
from being driven down the Chimney again by
any Eddy of Wind on the Top of the Hou&longs;e. Smoke being hot naturally mounts, and the
Heat of the Flame quickens its A&longs;cent: When
it comes therefore into the Tunnel of the
Chimney, it is compre&longs;&longs;ed and &longs;traitened as in
a Channel, and being pu&longs;hed on by the Heat
of the Fire, is thru&longs;t out in the &longs;ame Manner
as the Sound is out of a Trumpet. And as a
Trumpet, if it is too big, does not give a clear
Sound, becau&longs;e the Air has Room to rowl about
in it; the &longs;ame will hold good with Relation
to the Smoke in a Chimney. Let the Top of
the Chimney be covered to keep out Rain, and
all round the Sides let there be wide Holes for
the Pa&longs;&longs;age of the Smoke, with Breaks projec
ting out between each Hole to keep off the
Violence of the Wind. Where this is not &longs;o
convenient, erect an upright Pin, and on it hang
a bra&longs;s Cover broad enough to take in the
whole Mouth of the Chimney, and let this Co
ver have a Vane at the Top like a Sort of
Cre&longs;t, which like a Helm may turn it round
according to the Wind. Another very good
Method al&longs;o is to &longs;et on the Chimney Top &longs;ome
Spire like a Hunter's Horn, either of Bra&longs;s or
baked Earth, broader at one End than the
other, with the broad End turned downwards
to the Mouth of the Chimney; by which
means the Smoke being received in at the
broad End, will force its Way out at the Nar
row, in Spite of the Wind. To the Parlours
we mu&longs;t accommodate the Kitchen, and the
Pantry for &longs;etting by what is left after Meals,
together with all Manner of Ve&longs;&longs;els and Linen. The Kitchen ought to be neither ju&longs;t under the
No&longs;es of the Gue&longs;ts, nor at too great a Di&longs;
tance; but &longs;o that the Victuals may be brought
in neither too hot nor too cold, and that the
Noi&longs;e of the Scullions, with the Clatter of
their Pans, Di&longs;hes and other Uten&longs;ils, may not
be trouble&longs;ome. The Pa&longs;&longs;age through which
the Victuals are to be carried, &longs;hould be hand
&longs;ome and convenient, not open to the Weather,
the Stomachs of the Gue&longs;ts. From the Par
lour the next Step is to the Bed-chamber; and
for a Man of Figure and Elegance, there &longs;hould
be different ones of the&longs;e latter, as well as of
the former, for Summer and for Winter. This
puts me in Mind of
is not fit a great Man &longs;hould be wor&longs;e lodged
than a Swallow or a Crane. However I &longs;hall
only &longs;et down &longs;uch Rules, with Relation to
the&longs;e Apartments, as are compatible with the
greate&longs;t Mode&longs;ty and Moderation. I remem
ber to have read in
rian, that among the
for the Wife to appear at Table, if any body
was there be&longs;ides Relations; and that the A
partments for the Women, were Parts of the
Hou&longs;e where no Men ever &longs;et his Foot except
the neare&longs;t Kindred. And indeed I mu&longs;t own
I think the Apartments for the Ladies, ought
to be &longs;acred like Places dedicated to Religion
and Cha&longs;tity. I am be&longs;ides for having the
Rooms particularly de&longs;igned for Virgins and
young Ladies, fitted up in the neate&longs;t and mo&longs;t
delicate Manner, that their tender Minds may
pa&longs;s their Time in them with le&longs;s Regret and
be as little weary of them&longs;elves as po&longs;&longs;ible. The
Mi&longs;tre&longs;s of the Family &longs;hould have an Apart
ment, in which &longs;he may ea&longs;ily hear every
Thing that is done in the Hou&longs;e. However,
in the&longs;e Particulars, the Cu&longs;toms of every
Country are always to be principally ob&longs;erved. The Husband and the Wife &longs;hould each have
a &longs;eparate Chamber, not only that the Wife,
either when &longs;he lies in, or in Ca&longs;e of any other
Indi&longs;po&longs;ition, may not be trouble&longs;ome to her
Husband; but al&longs;o that in Summer Time,
either of them may lie alone whenever they
think fit. Each of the&longs;e Chambers &longs;hould have
its &longs;eparate Door, be&longs;ides which there &longs;hould
be a common Pa&longs;&longs;age between them both, that
one may go to the other without being ob&longs;erv
ed by any body. The Wife's Chamber &longs;hould
go into the Wardrobe; the Husband's into the
Library. Their ancient Mother, who requires
Tranquility and Repo&longs;e, &longs;hould have a warm
Chamber, well &longs;ecured again&longs;t the Cold, and
out of the Way of all Noi&longs;es either from with
in or without. Be &longs;ure particularly to let it
have a good Fire-place, and all other Conve
niencies nece&longs;&longs;ary for an infirm Per&longs;on, to com
fort and cheer both the Body and Mind. Out
of this Chamber let there be a Pa&longs;&longs;age to the
Place where you keep your Trea&longs;ure. Here
place the Boys; and by the Wardrobe the
Girls, and near them the Lodgings for the
Nur&longs;es. Strangers and Gue&longs;ts &longs;hould be lodged
in Chambers near the Ve&longs;tibule or Fore-gate;
that they may have full Freedom both in their
own Actions, and in receiving Vi&longs;its from their
Friends, without di&longs;turbing the Re&longs;t of the Fa
mily. The Sons of fixteen or &longs;eventeen Years
old, &longs;hould have Apartments oppo&longs;ite to the
Gue&longs;ts, or at lea&longs;t not far from them, that
they may have an Opportunity to conver&longs;e and
grow familiar with them. The Strangers too
&longs;hould have &longs;ome Place to them&longs;elves, where
they may lock up any Thing private or valu
able, and take it out again whenever they
think fit. Next to the Lodgings of the young
Gentlemen, &longs;hould be the Place where the
Arms are kept. Stewards, Officers and Ser
vants &longs;hould be &longs;o lodged a&longs;under from the
Gentlemen, that each may have a convenient
Place, &longs;uitable to his re&longs;pective Bu&longs;ine&longs;s. The
Maid-&longs;ervants and Valets &longs;hould always be
within ea&longs;y Call, to be ready upon any Occa
&longs;ion that they are wanted for. The Butler's
Lodging &longs;hould be near both to the Vault and
Pantry. The Grooms &longs;hould lie near the Stable.
The Saddle-hor&longs;es ought not to be kept in the
&longs;ame Place with tho&longs;e of Draught or Burthen;
and they &longs;hould be placed where they cannot
offend the Hou&longs;e with any Smells, nor pre
judice it by their Kicking, and out of all Danger
of Fire. Corn and all Manner of Grain is &longs;poilt
by Moi&longs;ture, tarni&longs;hed and turned pale by
Heat, &longs;hrunk by Wind, and rotted by the
Touch of Lime. Where-ever therefore you in
tend to lay it, whether in a Cave, Pit, Vault,
or on an open Area, be &longs;ure that the Place be
thoroughly dry and perfectly clean and new
made.
dug up near
though it had lain hid above an hundred
Years. Some &longs;ay, that Barley laid in a warm
Place, will not &longs;poil; but it will keep very
little above a Year. The Philo&longs;ophers tell us,
that Bodies are prepared &longs;or Corruption by
Moi&longs;ture, but are a&longs;terwards actually corrupt
ed by Heat. If you make a Floor in your
Granary of Lees of Oil mixed with Potter's
Clay and Spart or Straw chopt &longs;mall, and beat
well together, your Grain will keep &longs;ound up
on it a great While, and be neither &longs;poilt by
Weevil nor &longs;tolen by the Ant. Granaries de
&longs;igned only for Seeds are be&longs;t built of unbaked
Bricks. The North-wind is le&longs;s prejudicial
than the South to all Stores of Seeds and Fruits;
but any Wind what&longs;oever blowing from damp
andany con&longs;tant impetuous Wind willmake them
&longs;hrivelled and withered. For Pul&longs;e and e&longs;pe
cially Beans make a Floor of A&longs;hes mixed with
Lees and Oil. Keep Apples in &longs;ome very clo&longs;e,
but cool boarded Room.
nion, that they will keep the whole Year round
in Bladders blown up and tied clo&longs;e. The In
con&longs;tancy of the Air is what &longs;poils every
Thing; and therefore keep every Breath of it
from your Apples, if po&longs;&longs;ible; and particularly
the North-wind, which is thought to &longs;hrivel
them up. We are told that Vaults for Wine
&longs;hould lie deep under Ground, and be very clo&longs;e
&longs;topt up; and yet there are &longs;ome Wines which
decay in the Shade. Wine is &longs;poilt by the
Ea&longs;tern, Southern and We&longs;tern Winds, and
e&longs;pecially in the Winter or the Spring. If it is
touched even by the North-wind in the Dog
days, it will receive Injury. The Rays of the
Sun make it heady; tho&longs;e of the Moon, thick. If it is in the lea&longs;t &longs;tirred, it lo&longs;es its Spirit and
grows weak. Wine will take any Smell that
is near it, and will grow dead near a Stink. When it is kept in a dry cool Place, always
equally tempered, it will remain good for many
Years. Wine, &longs;ays
kept cool, &longs;o long it will keep good. Make
your Vault for Wine therefore in a &longs;teady
Place, never &longs;haken by any Sort of Carriages;
and its Sides and Lights &longs;hould be towards the
North. All Manner of Filth and ill Smells,
Damps, Vapours, Smoke, the Stinks of all
Sorts of rotten Garden-&longs;tuff, Onions, Cabbage,
wild or dome&longs;tick Figs, &longs;hould by all Means
be quite &longs;hut out. Let the Floor of your Vault
be pargetted, and in the Middle make a little
Trench, to &longs;ave any Wine that may be &longs;pilt by
the Fault of the Ve&longs;&longs;els. Some make their
Ve&longs;&longs;els them&longs;elves of Stue or Stone. The big
ger the Ve&longs;&longs;el is, the more Spirit and Strength
will be in the Wine. Oil delights in a warm
Shade, and cannot endure any cold Wind; and
is &longs;poilt by Smoke or any other Steam. We
&longs;hall not dwell upon coar&longs;er Matters; namely,
how there ought to be two Places for keeping
Dung in, one for the Old, and another for the
New; that it loves the Sun and Moi&longs;ture, and
is dried up and exhau&longs;ted by the Wind; but
&longs;hall only give this general Rule, that tho&longs;e
Places which are mo&longs;t liable to Danger by Fire,
as Hay-lofts and the like, and tho&longs;e which are
unplea&longs;ant either to the Sight or Smell, ought
to be &longs;et out of the Way and &longs;eparated by
them&longs;elves. It may not be ami&longs;s ju&longs;t to men
tion here, that the Dung of Oxen will not
breed Scrpents. But there is one filthy Prac
ti&longs;e which I cannot help taking Notice of. We
take Care in the Country to &longs;et the Dunghill
out of the Way in &longs;ome remote Corner, that
the Smell may not offend our Ploughmen;
and yet in our own Hou&longs;es, in our be&longs;t Cham
bers (where we our&longs;elves are to re&longs;t) and as it
were at our very Bol&longs;ters, we are &longs;o unpolite as
to make &longs;ecret Privies, or rather Store-rooms of
Stink. If a Man is Sick, let him make u&longs;e of
a Clo&longs;e-&longs;tool; but when he is in Health, &longs;ure
ly &longs;uch Na&longs;tine&longs;s cannot be too far off. It is
worth ob&longs;erving how careful Birds are, and par
ticularly Swallows, to keep their Ne&longs;ts clean
and neat for their young ones. The Example
Nature herein &longs;ets us is wonderful. Even the
young Swallows, as &longs;oon as ever Time has
&longs;trengthened their Limbs will never Mute, but
out of the Ne&longs;t; and the old ones, to keep the
Filth at a &longs;till greater Di&longs;tance, will catch it
in their Bills as it is falling, to carry it further
off from their own Ne&longs;t. Since Nature has
given us this excellent In&longs;truction, I think we
ought by no means to neglect it.
CHAP. XVIII.
The Habitations of the middling Sort ought to re&longs;emble tho&longs;e of the Rich;
at lea&longs;t in Proportion to their Circum&longs;tances. Buildings &longs;hould be contrived
more for Summer, than for Winter.
The Country Hou&longs;e and Town Hou&longs;e
for the Rich differ in this Circum
&longs;tance; that they u&longs;e their Country Hou&longs;e
chiefly for a Habitation in the Summer, and
their Town Hou&longs;e as a convenient Place of
Shelter in the Winter. In their Country Hou&longs;e
therefore they enjoy the Plea&longs;ures of Light,
Air, &longs;pacious Walks and fine Pro&longs;pects; in
of Luxury and the Night. It is &longs;ufficient there
fore if in Town they can have an Abode that
does not want any Conveniencies for living
with Health, Dignity and Politene&longs;s: But yet,
as far as the Want of Room and Pro&longs;pect will
admit, our Habitation in Town &longs;hould not be
without any of the Delicacies of that in the
Country. We &longs;hould be &longs;ure to have a good
Court-yard, Portico, Places for Exerci&longs;e, and
&longs;ome Garden. If you are crampt for Room,
and cannot make all your Conveniencies upon
one Floor, make &longs;everal Stories, by which
means you may make the Members of your
Hou&longs;e as large as is nece&longs;&longs;ary; and if the Na
ture of your Foundation will allow it, dig
Places under Ground for your Wines, Oil, Wood,
and even &longs;ome Part of your Family, and &longs;uch
a Ba&longs;ement will add Maje&longs;ty to your whole
Structure. Thus you may build as many Stories
as you plea&longs;e, till you have fully provided for
all the Occa&longs;ions of your Family. The prin
cipal Parts may be allotted to the principal Oc
ca&longs;ions; and the mo&longs;t Honourable, to the mo&longs;t
Honourable. No Store-rooms &longs;hould be want
ing for laying up Corn, Fruits, and all Manner
of Tools, Implements and Hou&longs;hold-&longs;tuff;
nor Places for divine Wor&longs;hip; nor Wardrobes
for the Women. Nor mu&longs;t you be without
convenient Store-rooms for laying up Cloaths
de&longs;igned for your Family to wear only on Ho
lidays, and Arms both de&longs;en&longs;ive and offen&longs;ive,
Implements for all Sorts of Works in Wool,
Preparations for the Entertainment of Gue&longs;ts,
and all Manner of Nece&longs;&longs;aries for any extraor
dinary Occa&longs;ions. There &longs;hould be different
Places for tho&longs;e Things that are not wanted
above once a Month, or perhaps once a Year,
and for tho&longs;e that are in U&longs;e every Day. Every
one of which, though they cannot be always
kept lockt up in Store-rooms, ought however
to be kept in &longs;ome Place where they may be
con&longs;tantly in Sight; and e&longs;pecially &longs;uch Things
as are &longs;eldome&longs;t in U&longs;e; becau&longs;e tho&longs;e Things
which are mo&longs;t in Sight, are lea&longs;t in Danger
of Thieves. The Habitations of middling Peo
ple ought to re&longs;emble the Delicacy of tho&longs;e of
the richer Sort, in Proportion to their Circum
&longs;tances; &longs;till imitating them with &longs;uch Mode
ration, as not to run into a greater Expence
than they can well &longs;upport. The Country
Hou&longs;es for the&longs;e, therefore, &longs;hould be contrived
with little le&longs;s Regard to their Flocks and
Herds, than to their Wives. Their Dove
hou&longs;e, Fi&longs;h-ponds, and the like &longs;hould be le&longs;s
for Plea&longs;ure, than for Pro&longs;it: But yet their
Country Hou&longs;e &longs;hould be built in &longs;uch a Man
ner, that the Wife may like the Abode, and
look after her Bu&longs;ine&longs;s in it with Plea&longs;ure; nor
&longs;hould we have our Eye &longs;o entirely upon Pro
fit, as to neglect the Health of the Inhabitants. Whenever we have Occa&longs;ion for Change of
Air,
our Bodies will grow accu&longs;tomed to Winter
Colds, with le&longs;s Danger of our Health than to
Summer Heats. But we, on the Contrary, are
fond of going to our Country Hou&longs;es chiefly
in Summer; we ought therefore to take Care
to have that the mo&longs;t Healthy. As for the
Town Hou&longs;e for a Trade&longs;man, more Regard
mu&longs;t be had to the Conveniency of his Shop,
from whence his Gain and Livelihood is to
ari&longs;e than to the Beauty of his Parlour; the
be&longs;t Situation for this is, in Cro&longs;s-ways, at a
Corner; in a Market-place or Square, in the
Middle of the Place; in a High-&longs;treet, &longs;ome
remarkable jutting out; ina&longs;much as his chief
De&longs;ign is to draw the Eyes of Cu&longs;tomers. In
the middle Parts of his Hou&longs;e he need have no
Partitions but of unbaked Bricks and common
Plai&longs;ter; but in the Front and Sides, as he can
not always be &longs;ure of having hone&longs;t Neighbours,
he mu&longs;t make his Walls &longs;tronger again&longs;t the
A&longs;&longs;aults both of Men and Weather. He &longs;hould
al&longs;o build his Hou&longs;e either at &longs;uch a proper
Di&longs;tance from his next Neighbour's, that there
may be room for the Air to dry the Walls af
ter any Rain; or &longs;o clo&longs;e, that the Water may
run off from both in the &longs;ame Gutter; and let
the Top of the Hou&longs;e, and the Gutters parti
cularly, have a very good Slope, that the Rain
may neither lie &longs;oaking too long, nor da&longs;h back
into the Hou&longs;e; but be carried away as quick
and as clear as po&longs;&longs;ible. There remains no
thing now but to recollect &longs;ome few Rules laid
down in the fir&longs;t Book, and which &longs;eem to be
long to this Head. Let tho&longs;e Parts of the
Building which are to be particularly &longs;ecure
again&longs;t Fire, and the Injuries of the Weather,
or which are to be clo&longs;er or freer from Noi&longs;e,
be all vaulted; &longs;o likewi&longs;e &longs;hould all Places un
der Ground: But for Rooms above Ground,
flat Ceilings are whole&longs;omer. Tho&longs;e which
require the cleare&longs;t Light, &longs;uch as the common
Parlour, the Portico, and e&longs;pecially the Library,
&longs;hould be &longs;ituated full Ea&longs;t? Tho&longs;e Things
which are injured by Moths, Ru&longs;t or Milldew,
&longs;uch as Cloaths, Books, Arms, and all Manner
South or We&longs;t. If there be Occa&longs;ion for an
equal con&longs;tant Light, &longs;uch as is nece&longs;&longs;ary for
Painters, Writers, Sculptors and the like, let
them have it from the North. La&longs;tly, let all
Summer Apartments &longs;tand open to the Northern
Winds, all Winter ones to the South, and all
tho&longs;e for Spring and Autumn to the Ea&longs;t. Baths
and &longs;upper Parlours for the Spring Sea&longs;on &longs;hould
be towards the We&longs;t. And if you cannot po&longs;
&longs;ibly have all the&longs;e exactly according to your
Wi&longs;h, at lea&longs;t chu&longs;e out the mo&longs;t convenient
Places for your Summer Apartments: For in
deed, in my Opinion, a wi&longs;e Man &longs;hould build
rather for Summer than for Winter. We may
ea&longs;ily arm our&longs;elves again&longs;t the Cold by ma
king all clo&longs;e, and keeping good Fires; but
many more Things are requi&longs;ite again&longs;t Heat,
and even all will &longs;ometimes be no great Re
lief. Let Winter Rooms therefore be &longs;mall,
low and little Windows, and Summer ones, on
the Contrary, large, &longs;pacious, and open to cool
Breezes, but not to the Sun or the hot Air
that comes from it. A great Quantity of Air
inclo&longs;ed in a large Room, is like a great Quan
tity of Water, not ea&longs;ily heated.
THE
OF
BOOK VI. CHAP. I.
how much Pains, Study and Application he has employed in writing upon
the&longs;e Matters.
In the five preceding Books we have
treated of the De&longs;igns, of the Ma
terials for the Work, of the Work
men, and of every Thing el&longs;e that
appeared nece&longs;&longs;ary to the Con
&longs;truction of an Edi&longs;ice, whether publick or
private, &longs;acred or profane, &longs;o far as related to
its being made &longs;trong again&longs;t all Injuries of
Weather, and convenient for its re&longs;pective U&longs;e,
as to Times Places, Men and Things: With
how much Care we have treated of all the&longs;e
Matters, you may &longs;ee by the Books them&longs;elves,
from whence you may judge whether it was
po&longs;&longs;ible to do it with much greater. The La
bour indeed was much more than I could have
fore&longs;een at the Beginning of this Undertaking. Continual Difficulties every Moment aro&longs;e
either in explaining the Matter, or inventing
Names, or methodizing the Subject, which per
&longs;ectly con&longs;ounded me, and di&longs;heartened me
from my Undertaking. On the other Hand,
the &longs;ame Rea&longs;ons which induced me to be be
gin this Work, pre&longs;&longs;ed and encouraged me to
proceed. It grieved me that &longs;o many great
and noble In&longs;tructions of ancient Authors
&longs;hould be lo&longs;t by the Injury of Time, &longs;o that
&longs;carce any but
neral Wreek: A Writer indeed of univer&longs;al
Knowledge, but &longs;o maimed by Age, that in
many Places there are great Cha&longs;ms, and many
Things imperfect in others. Be&longs;ides this, his
Style is ab&longs;olutely void of all Ornaments, and
he wrote in &longs;uch a Manner, that to the
he &longs;eems to write
Latin:
it&longs;elf, that he wrote neither
and he might almo&longs;t as well have never
wrote at all, at lea&longs;t with Regard to us, &longs;ince
we cannot under&longs;tand him. There remained
many Examples of the ancient Works, Temples
and Theatres, from whence, as from the mo&longs;t
skilful Ma&longs;ters, a great deal was to be learn
ed; but the&longs;e I &longs;aw, and with Tears I &longs;aw it,
mouldering away daily. I ob&longs;erved too that
tho&longs;e who in the&longs;e Days happen to undertake
any new Structure, generally ran after the
Whims of the Moderns, in&longs;tead of being de
lighted and directed by the Ju&longs;tne&longs;s of more
noble Works. By this Means it was plain, that
this Part of Knowledge, and in a Manner of
Life it&longs;elf, was likely in a &longs;hort Time to be
wholly lo&longs;t. In this unhappy State of Things,
I could not help having it long, and often, in
my Thoughts to write upon this Subject my
&longs;elf. At the &longs;ame Time I con&longs;idered that in
the Examination of &longs;o many noble and u&longs;eful
be a Shame to neglect any of tho&longs;e Ob&longs;ervati
ons which voluntarily offered them&longs;elves to me;
and I thought it the Duty of an hone&longs;t and
&longs;tudious Mind, to endeavour to free this Sci
ence, for which the mo&longs;t Learned among the
Ancients had always a very great E&longs;teem, from
its pre&longs;ent Ruin and Oppre&longs;&longs;ion. Thus I &longs;tood
doubtful, and knew not how to re&longs;olve, whe
ther I &longs;hould drop my De&longs;ign, or go on. At
length my Love and Inclination for the&longs;e Stu
dies prevailed; and what I wanted in Capacity,
I made up in Diligence and Application. There
was not the lea&longs;t Remain of any ancient Struc
ture, that had any Merit in it, but what I went
and examined, to &longs;ee if any Thing was to be
learned from it. Thus I was continually &longs;earch
ing, con&longs;idering, mea&longs;uring and making
Draughts of every Thing I could hear of, till
&longs;uch Time as I had made my&longs;elf perfect Ma
&longs;ter of every Contrivance or Invention that had
been u&longs;ed in tho&longs;e ancient Remains; and thus
I alleviated the Fatigue of writing, by the
Thir&longs;t and Plea&longs;ure of gaining Information. And indeed the Collecting together, rehear&longs;ing
without Meanne&longs;s, reducing into a ju&longs;t Method,
writing in an accurate Style, and explaining
per&longs;picuou&longs;ly &longs;o many various Matters, &longs;o un
equal, &longs;o di&longs;per&longs;ed, and &longs;o remote from the
common U&longs;e and Knowledge of Mankind,
certainly required a greater Genius, and more
Learning than I can pretend to. But &longs;till I
&longs;hall not repent of my Labour, if I have only
effected what I chiefly propo&longs;ed to my&longs;elf,
namely, to be clear and intelligible to the
Reader, rather than Eloquent. How difficult
a Thing this is, in handling Subjects of this
Nature, is better known to tho&longs;e who have
attempted it, then believed by tho&longs;e who never
tried it. And I flatter my&longs;elf, it will at lea&longs;t
be allowed me, that I have wrote according to
the Rules of this Language, and in no ob&longs;cure
Style. We &longs;hall endeavour to do the &longs;ame in
the remaining Parts of this Work. Of the
three Properties required in all Manner of
Buildings, namely, that they be accommoda
ted to their re&longs;pective Purpo&longs;es, &longs;tout and
&longs;trong for Duration, and plea&longs;ant and delight
ful to the Sight, we have di&longs;patched the two
fir&longs;t, and are now to treat of the third, which
is by much the mo&longs;t Noble of all, and very
nece&longs;&longs;ary be&longs;ides.
CHAP. II.
to Art and Exactne&longs;s of Proportion; as al&longs;o of the Birth and Progre&longs;s
of Arts.
It is generally allowed, that the Plea&longs;ure and
Delight which we feel on the View of any
Building, ari&longs;e from nothing el&longs;e but Beauty
and Ornament, &longs;ince there is hardly any Man
&longs;o melancholy or &longs;tupid, &longs;o rough or unpoli&longs;h
ed, but what is very much plea&longs;ed with what
is beautiful, and pur&longs;ues tho&longs;e Things which
are mo&longs;t adorned, and rejects the unadorned
and neglected; and if in any Thing that he
Views he perceives any Ornament is wanting,
he declares that there is &longs;omething deficient
which would make the Work more delightful
and noble. We &longs;hould therefore con&longs;ult Beauty
as one of the main and principal Requi&longs;ites in
any Thing which we have a Mind &longs;hould plea&longs;e
others. How nece&longs;&longs;ary our Forefathers, Men
remarkable for their Wi&longs;dom, looked upon this
to be, appears, as indeed from almo&longs;t every
thing they did, &longs;o particularly from their Laws,
their Militia, their &longs;acred and all other pub
lick Ceremonies; which it is almo&longs;t incredible
what Pains they took to adorn; in&longs;omuch that
one would almo&longs;t imagine they had a Mind to
have it thought, that all the&longs;e Things (&longs;o ab
&longs;olutely nece&longs;&longs;ary to the Life of Mankind) if
&longs;tript of their Pomp and Ornament, would be
&longs;omewhat &longs;tupid and in&longs;ipid. When we lift
up our Eyes to Heaven, and view the wonder
ful Works of God, we admire him more for
the Beauties which we &longs;ee, than for the Con
veniencies which we feel and derive from
them. But what Occa&longs;ion is there to in&longs;i&longs;t upon
this? When we&longs;ee that Nature con&longs;ults Beauty
in a Manner to exce&longs;s, in every Thing &longs;he does,
even in painting the Flowers of the Field. If
Beauty therefore is nece&longs;&longs;ary in any Thing, it
is &longs;o particularly in Building, which can never
be without it, without giving Offence both to
the Skilful and the Ignorant. How are we
moved by a huge &longs;hapele&longs;s ill-contrived Pile the greater it is, the more we blame
the Folly of the Expence, and condemn the
Builder's incon&longs;iderate Lu&longs;t of heaping up Stone
upon Stone without Contrivance. The having
&longs;atisfied Nece&longs;&longs;ity is a very &longs;mall Matter, and
the having provided for Conveniency affords
no Manner of Plea&longs;ure, where you are &longs;hocked
by the Deformity of the Work. Add to this,
that the very Thing we &longs;peak of is it&longs;elf no
&longs;mall help to Conveniency and Duration: For
who will deny that it is much more convenient
to be lodged in a neat hand&longs;ome Structure,
than in a na&longs;ty ill-contrived Hole? or can any
Building be made &longs;o &longs;trong by all the Contri
vance of Art, as to be &longs;afe from Violence and
Force? But Beauty will have &longs;uch an Effect
even upon an enraged Enemy, that it will di&longs;
arm his Anger, and prevent him from offering
it any Injury: In&longs;omuch that I will be bold to
&longs;ay, there can be no greater Security to any
Work again&longs;t Violence and Injury, than Beau
ty and Dignity. Your whole Care, Diligence
and Expence, therefore &longs;hould all tend to this,
that whatever you build may be not only u&longs;e
ful and convenient, but al&longs;o hand&longs;omely
adorned, and by that means delightful to the
Sight, that whoever views it may own the Ex
pence could never have been better be&longs;towed. But what Beauty and Ornament are in them
&longs;elves, and what Difference there is between
them, may perhaps be ea&longs;ier for the Reader to
conceive in his Mind, than for me to explain
by Words. In order therefore to be as brief
as po&longs;&longs;ible, I &longs;hall define Beauty to be a Har
mony of all the Parts, in what&longs;oever Subject it
appears, fitted together with &longs;uch Proportion
and Connection, that nothing could be added,
dimini&longs;hed or altered, but for the Wor&longs;e. A
Quality &longs;o Noble and Divine, that the whole
Force of Wit and Art has been &longs;pent to pro
cure it; and it is but very rarely granted to any
one, or even to Nature her&longs;elf, to produce any
Thing every Way perfect and compleat. How
extraordinary a Thing (&longs;ays the Per&longs;on intro
duced in
This Critick in Beauty found that there was
&longs;omething deficient or &longs;uperfluous, in the Per
&longs;ons he di&longs;liked, which was not compatible
with the Perfection of Beauty, which I imagine
might have been obtained by Means of Orna
ment, by painting and concealing any Thing
that was deformed, and trimming and poli&longs;hing
what was hand&longs;ome; &longs;o that the un&longs;ightly
Parts might have given le&longs;s Offence, and the
more lovely more Delight. If this be grant
ed we may define Ornament to be a Kind of
an auxiliary Brightne&longs;s and Improvement to
Beauty. So that then Beauty is &longs;omewhat
lovely which is proper and innate, and diffu&longs;ed
over the whole Body, and Ornament &longs;ome
what added or fa&longs;tened on, rather than proper
and innate. To return therefore where we
le&longs;t off. Whoever would build &longs;o as to have
their Building commended, which every rea
&longs;onable Man would de&longs;ire, mu&longs;t build accord
ing to a Ju&longs;tne&longs;s of Proportion, and this Ju&longs;t
ne&longs;s of Proportion mu&longs;t be owing to Art. Who
therefore will affirm, that a hand&longs;ome and ju&longs;t
Structure can be rai&longs;ed any otherwi&longs;e than by
the Means of Art? and con&longs;equently this Part
of Building, which relates to Beauty and Orna
ment, being the Chief of all the Re&longs;t, mu&longs;t
without doubt be directed by &longs;ome &longs;ure Rules
of Art and Proportion, which whoever ne
glects will make him&longs;elf ridiculous. But there
are &longs;ome who will by no means allow of this,
and &longs;ay that Men are guided by a Variety of
Opinions in their Judgment of Beauty and of
Buildings; and that the Forms of Structures
mu&longs;t vary according to every Man's particular
Ta&longs;te and Fancy, and not be tied down to any
Rules of Art. A common Thing with the
Ignorant, to de&longs;pi&longs;e what they do not under
&longs;tand! It may not therefore be ami&longs;s to confute
this Error; not that I think it nece&longs;&longs;ary to
enter into a long Di&longs;cu&longs;&longs;ion about the Origin
of Arts, from what Principles they were de
duced, and by what Methods improved. I
&longs;hall only take Notice that all Arts were begot
by Chance and Ob&longs;ervation, and nur&longs;ed by
U&longs;e and Experience, and improved and per
fected by Rea&longs;on and Study. Thus we are
told that Phy&longs;ick was invented in a thou&longs;and
Years by a thou&longs;and thou&longs;and Men; and &longs;o too
the Art of Navigation; as, indeed, all other
Arts have grown up by Degrees from the &longs;mall
e&longs;t Beginnings.
CHAP. III.
Perfection in
The Art of Building, as far as I can
gather from the Works of the Ancients,
&longs;pent the fir&longs;t Vigour of its Youth (if I may
be allowed that Expre&longs;&longs;ion) in
wards flouri&longs;hed among the
la&longs;t came to its full Maturity in And
this Account &longs;eems very probable; for the
Kings of
&longs;ure, when they came to con&longs;ider them&longs;elves,
their own Riches, and the Greatne&longs;s and Ma
je&longs;ty of their Empire, and found that they had
Occa&longs;ion for larger and nobler Habitations,
they began to &longs;earch out and collect every
Thing that might &longs;erve to this Purpo&longs;e; and
in order to make their Buildings larger and
hand&longs;omer, began perhaps with building their
Roofs of larger Timbers, and their Walls of a
better Sort of Stone. This &longs;hewed noble and
great, and not unhand&longs;ome. Then finding
that &longs;uch Works were admired for being very
large, and imagining that a King was obliged
to do &longs;omething which private Men could not
effect, the&longs;e great Monarchs began to be de
lighted with huge Works, which they fell to
rai&longs;ing with a Kind of Emulation of one an
other, till they came to erecting tho&longs;e wild im
men&longs;e Moles, the Pyramids. Hereupon I ima
gine that by frequent Building they began to
find out the Difference that there was between
a Structure built in one Manner, and one built
in another, and &longs;o getting &longs;ome Notion of
Beauty and Proportion, began to neglect tho&longs;e
Things which wanted tho&longs;e Qualities.
came next; which flouri&longs;hing in excellent
Geniu&longs;&longs;es and Men of Learning, pa&longs;&longs;ionately
de&longs;irous of adorning their Country, began to
erect Temples and other publick Structures. They then thought fit to look abroad and take
a more careful View of the Works of the
&longs;yrians
to under&longs;tand that in all Things of this Nature
the Skill of the Workman was more admired
than the Wealth of the Prince: For any one
that is rich may rai&longs;e a great Pile of Building;
but to rai&longs;e &longs;uch a one as may be commended
by the Skilful, is the Part only of a &longs;uperior
Genius. Hereupon
Works &longs;he could not equal tho&longs;e Nations in
Expence, re&longs;olved to try if &longs;he could not out-do
them in Ingenuity. She began therefore to
trace and deduce this Art of Building, as in
deed &longs;he did all others, from the very Lap of
Nature it&longs;elf, examining, weighing and con
&longs;idering it in all its Parts with the greate&longs;t Di
ligence and Exactne&longs;s: enquiring with the
greate&longs;t Strictne&longs;s into the Difference between
tho&longs;e Buildings which were highly prai&longs;ed, and
tho&longs;e which were di&longs;liked, without neglecting
the lea&longs;t Particular. She tried all Manner of
Experiments, &longs;till tracing and keeping clo&longs;e to
the Foot&longs;teps of Nature, mingling uneven
Numbers with even, &longs;trait Lines with Curves,
Light with Shade, hoping that as it happens
from the Conjunction of Male and Female, &longs;he
&longs;hould by the Mixture of the&longs;e Oppo&longs;ites hit
upon &longs;ome third Thing that would an&longs;wer her
Purpo&longs;e: Nor even in the mo&longs;t minute Parti
culars did &longs;he neglect to weigh and con&longs;ider all
the Parts over and over again, how tho&longs;e on
the right Hand agreed with tho&longs;e on the left,
the Upright with the Platform, the nearer with
the more remote, adding, dimini&longs;hing, propor
tioning the great Parts to the Small, the Simi
lar to the Di&longs;&longs;imilar, the La&longs;t to the Fir&longs;t, till
&longs;he had clearly demon&longs;trated that different
Rules were to be ob&longs;erved in tho&longs;e Edifices
which were intended for Duration, to &longs;tand as
it were Monuments to Eternity, and tho&longs;e
which were de&longs;igned chiefly for Beauty. The&longs;e
were the Methods pur&longs;ued by the Italy,
wholly to Par&longs;imony, concluded that the Mem
bers in Buildings ought to be contrived in the
&longs;ame Manner as in Animals; as, for In&longs;tance,
in a Hor&longs;e, who&longs;e Limbs are generally mo&longs;t
beautiful when they are mo&longs;t u&longs;eful for Service:
from whence they inferred that Beauty was
never &longs;eparate and di&longs;tinct from Conveniency. But afterwards when they had obtained the
Empire of the World, being then no le&longs;s in
flamed than the
dorning their City and them&longs;elves, in le&longs;s than
thirty Years that which before was the fine&longs;t
Hou&longs;e in the whole City of
abounded in &longs;uch an incredible Number of in
genious Men who exerci&longs;e their Talent this
Way, that we are told there was at one Time
no le&longs;s than &longs;even hundred Architects at
who&longs;e Works were &longs;o noble that the extraor
dinary Prai&longs;e which is be&longs;towed upon them,
is hardly equal to their Merit. And as the
Wealth of the Empire was &longs;ufficient to bear the
Expence of the mo&longs;t &longs;tately Structures, &longs;o we
are told that a private Man, by Name
at his own proper Charges built Baths for the
People of But &longs;till though the Con
dition of their State was thus flouri&longs;hing, they
thought it mo&longs;t laudable to join the Magnifi
cence of the mo&longs;t profu&longs;e Monarchs, to the an
cient Par&longs;imony and frugal Contrivance of their
own Country: But &longs;till in &longs;uch a Manner, that
their Frugality &longs;hould not prejudice Conveni
ency, nor Conveniency be too cautious and
fearful of Expence; but that both &longs;hould be
embelli&longs;hed by every thing that was delicate or
beautiful. In a Word, being to the greate&longs;t
Degree careful and exact in all their Buildings,
they became at la&longs;t &longs;o excellent in this Art,
that there was nothing in it &longs;o hiden or &longs;ecret
but what they traced out, di&longs;covered and
brought to light, by the Favour of Heaven,
and the Art it&longs;elf not frowning upon their En
deavours: For the Art of Building having had
her ancient Seat in
the
Structures which we read to have been erected
by their Kings, of Labyrinths and Sepulchres,
had among them &longs;ome excellent ancient Writ
ings, which taught the Manner of building
Temples, according to the Practice of the An
cient
ancient Seat in
much Fervour &longs;he was courted there, &longs;he &longs;eems
to have re&longs;olved, that this Empire of the World,
which was already adorned with all other Vir
tues, &longs;hould be made &longs;till more admirable by
her Embelli&longs;hments. For this Rea&longs;on &longs;he gave
her&longs;elf to them to be throughly known and un
der&longs;tood; thinking it a Shame that the Head
of the Univer&longs;e and the Glory of all Nations
&longs;hould be equalled in Magnificence by tho&longs;e
whom &longs;he had excelled in all Virtues and Sci
ences. Why &longs;hould I in&longs;i&longs;t here upon their
Porticoes, Temples, Gates, Theatres, Baths,
and other gigantick Structures; Works &longs;o a
mazing, that though they were actually exe
cuted, &longs;ome very great foreign Architects
thought them impracticable. In &longs;hort, I need
&longs;ay no more than that they could not bear to
have even their common Drains void of Beau
ty, and were &longs;o delighted with Magnificence
and Ornament, that they thought it no Profu
&longs;ion to &longs;pend the Wealth of the State in Build
ings that were hardly de&longs;igned for any thing
el&longs;e. By the Examples therefore of the Anci
ents, and the Precepts of great Ma&longs;ters, and
con&longs;tant Practice, a thorough Knowledge is to
be gained of the Method of rai&longs;ing &longs;uch mag
nificent Structures; from this Knowledge
&longs;ound Rules are to be drawn, which are by no
means to be neglected by tho&longs;e who have not
a Mind to make them&longs;elves ridiculous by build
ing, as I &longs;uppo&longs;e nobody has. The&longs;e Rules it
is our Bu&longs;ine&longs;s here to collect and explain, ac
cording to the be&longs;t of our Capacity. Of the&longs;e
&longs;ome regard the univer&longs;al Beauty and Orna
ment of the whole Edifice; other the particu
lar Parts and Members taken &longs;eparately. The
former are taken immediately from Philo&longs;ophy
and are intended to direct and regulate the
Operations of this Art; the others from Ex
perience, as we have &longs;hewn above, only filed
and perfected by the Principles of Philo
&longs;ophy. I &longs;hall &longs;peak fir&longs;t of tho&longs;e wherein this
particular Art is mo&longs;t concerned; and as for
the others, which relate to the Univer&longs;ality,
they &longs;hall &longs;erve by Way of Epilogue.
CHAP. IV
Hand of the Artificer, or from Nature; and that though the Region indeed
can hardly be improved by the Wit or Labour of Man, yet many other
Things may be done highly worthy of Admiration, and &longs;carcely credible.
That which delights us in Things that
are either beautiful or finely adorned,
mu&longs;t proceed either from the Contrivance and
Invention of the Mind, or the Hand of the
Artificer, or from &longs;omewhat derived immedi
ately from Nature her&longs;elf. To the Mind be
and other Things of the like Nature which
give Dignity to the Work: To the Hand, the
ama&longs;&longs;ing, adding, dimini&longs;hing, chipping, po
li&longs;hing, and the like, which make the Work
delicate: The Qualities derived from Nature
are Heavine&longs;s, Lightne&longs;s, Thickne&longs;s, Clearne&longs;s,
Durability,
erful. The&longs;e three Operations are to be adapt
cd to the &longs;everal Parts according to their various
U&longs;es and Offices. There are &longs;everal Ways of
dividing and con&longs;idering the different Parts:
But at pre&longs;ent we &longs;hall divide all Buildings
either according to the Parts in which they
generally agree, or to tho&longs;e in which they ge
nerally differ. In the fir&longs;t Book we &longs;aw that
all Edifices mu&longs;t have Region, Situation, Com
partition, Walling, Covering, and Apertures;
in the&longs;e Particulars therefore they agree. But
then in the&longs;e others they differ, namely, that
&longs;ome are Sacred, others Profane, &longs;ome Pub
lick, others Private, &longs;ome de&longs;igned for Nece&longs;
&longs;ity, others for Plea&longs;ure, and &longs;o on. Let us be
gin with tho&longs;e Particulars wherein they agree. What the Hand or Wit of Man can add to
the Region, either of Beauty or Dignity, is
hardly di&longs;coverable; unle&longs;s we would give in
to tho&longs;e miraculous and &longs;uper&longs;titious Accounts
which we read of &longs;ome Works. Nor are the
Undertakers of &longs;uch Works blamed by pru
dent Men, if their De&longs;igns an&longs;wer any great
Conveniency; but if they take Pains to do
what there was no Nece&longs;&longs;ity for, they are ju&longs;t
ly denied the Prai&longs;e they hunt after. For who
would be &longs;o daring as to undertake, like
crates,
(according to
into a Statue of
Hands to build a City big enough to contain
ten thou&longs;and Men? Indeed I &longs;hould not di&longs;
commend Queen
the River
flow three Times round the City of the
rians,
by tho&longs;e Trenches, and fruitful by the over
flowing of the Water. But let us leave it to
mighty Kings to be delighted with &longs;uch Un
dertakings: Let them join Sea to Sea by cut
ting the Land between them: Let them level
Hills: Let them make new I&longs;lands, or join old
ones to the Continent: Let them put it out
of the Power of any others to imitate them,
and &longs;o make their Names memorable to Po&longs;te
rity: Still all their wa&longs;t Works will be com
mended not &longs;o much in Proportion to their
Greatne&longs;s as their U&longs;e. The Ancients &longs;ome
times added Dignity not only to particular
Groves, but even to the whole Region, by
Means of Religion. We read that all
was con&longs;ecrated to
not now to be in&longs;i&longs;ted upon. It will be of great
and real Advantages, if the Region be po&longs;&longs;e&longs;&longs;ed
of &longs;ome rare Quality, no le&longs;s u&longs;eful than extra
ordinary: As for In&longs;tance, if the Air be more
temperate than in any other Place, and always
equal and uniform, as we are told it is at
they plea&longs;e; or if the Region produces &longs;ome
thing not to be found el&longs;ewhere and very de
&longs;irable and whole&longs;ome to Man, as that which
produces Amber, Cinnamon, and Bal&longs;am; or
if it has &longs;ome divine Influence in it, as there is
in the Soil of the I&longs;land
told nothing noxious is produced. The Situ
ation, being a certain determinate Part of the
Region, is adorned by all the &longs;ame Particulars
as beautify the Region it&longs;elf. But Nature ge
nerally offers more Conveniencies, and tho&longs;e
more ready at Hand, for adorning the Situati
on than the Region; for we very frequently
meet with Circum&longs;tances extreamly noble and
&longs;urpri&longs;ing, &longs;uch as Promontories, Rocks, brok
en Hills va&longs;tly high and &longs;harp, Grottoes, Ca
verns, Springs and the like; near which, if we
would have our Situation &longs;trike the Beholders
with Surprize, we may build to our Hearts
de&longs;ire. Nor &longs;hould their be wanting in the
Pro&longs;pect Remains of Antiquity, on which we
cannot turn our Eyes without con&longs;idering the
various Revolutions of Men and Things, and
being filled with Wonder and Admiration. I
need not mention the Place where
&longs;tood, or the Plains of
Blood, nor the Fields near
thou&longs;and other Places memorable for &longs;ome
great Event. How the Hand and Wit of Man
may add to the Beauty of the Situation, is not
&longs;o ea&longs;ily &longs;hewn. I pa&longs;s over Things com
monly done; &longs;uch as Plane-trees brought by
Sea to the I&longs;land of
ation, or Columns, Obelisks and Trees left by
great Men in order to &longs;trike Po&longs;terity with Ve
neration; as for In&longs;tance, the Olive-tree planted
by
&longs;o many Ages in the Citadel of
wife pa&longs;s over ancient Traditions handed down
from Age to Age, as that of the Turpentine
tree near
&longs;tood from the Creation of the World to the
Days of Nothing can
a Place than &longs;ome artful Laws made by the
Ancients; &longs;uch as the&longs;e: That nothing Male
&longs;hould pre&longs;ume to &longs;et Foot in the Temple of
the
trician Portico; and at
man &longs;hould enter the &longs;acred Grove, nor the in
ner Parts of the Temple of
that no Per&longs;on what&longs;oever, be&longs;ides the Prie&longs;t,
and he only in order to purify him&longs;elf for Sa
cri&longs;ice, &longs;hould wa&longs;h in the Fountain near
thos;
in the Place called
at
were depo&longs;ited; and upon &longs;ome Chapels there
have been In&longs;criptions, &longs;trictly forbidding any
common Pro&longs;titute to enter; in the Temple of
they were bare-footed; it was unlawful to bring
a Bond-woman into the Temple of the God
de&longs;s
cluded from the Temple of
and all Fiddlers from that of
nedos. So again, it was unlawful to go out of
the Temple of
ficing, and to carry any Ivy into the Temple
of In the Temple of
lawful &longs;o much as to mention the Name of
Wine. In the &longs;ame Manner it was decreed,
that the Gate
be &longs;hut, but in Time of War, nor the Temple
of
that the Temple of the Godde&longs;s
&longs;tand always open. If we were to imitate any
of the&longs;e Cu&longs;toms, perhaps it might not be a
mi&longs;s to make it criminal for Women to enter
the Temples of Martyrs; or Men, tho&longs;e dedi
cated to Virgin Saints. Moreover there are &longs;ome
Advantages very de&longs;irable, &longs;aid to be procured
by Art, which when we read of, we could
&longs;carcely believe, unle&longs;s we &longs;aw &longs;omething like
it in &longs;ome particular Places even at this Day. We are told that it was brought about by hu
man Art, that in
never hurt any body, and that no Daws will fly
within the Walls; and that no Gra&longs;shoppers
are ever heard in In the Temple of
I&longs;land of
enter, nor any Dog or Fly of any Sort in the
Temple of
at But what &longs;hall we &longs;ay of this &longs;ur
prizing Particularity, that at
this Day, no Kind of Fly ever enters the pub
lick Palace of the
Fle&longs;h-market at
one Fly &longs;een throughout the Year, and that a
remarkable one for its Whitene&longs;s. The&longs;e
&longs;trange Accounts which we find in Authors,
are too numerous to be all in&longs;erted here, and
whether they are owing to Nature or Art, I
&longs;hall not now pretend to decide. But then,
again, how can we, either by Nature or Art,
account for what they tell us of a Laurel-tree
growing in the Sepulchre of
en, and put aboard a Ship, that Ship &longs;hall ne
ver be free from Mutinies and Tumults till the
Twig is thrown out of it: Or for its never
raining upon the
Sacrifice is left at
minor,
break off any Part of
immediately begins to rain, and never leaves off
till it is made whole again? Some indeed af
firm, that all the&longs;e Things may be done by an
Art, now lo&longs;t, by means of little con&longs;tellated
Images, which A&longs;tronomers pretend are not
unknown to them. I remember to have read
in the Author of the Life of
that in the chief Apartments of the Royal Palace
at
Cieling four golden Birds, which they called
the Tongues of the Gods, and that the&longs;e were
endued with the Virtue of conciliating the Af
fection of the Multitude towards their King:
And
he him&longs;elf &longs;aw a certain Man named
who in the Prefence of the Emperor
and his Sons, immediately cured a Man that
was po&longs;&longs;e&longs;&longs;ed, by fa&longs;tening a Ring to his No&longs;e;
and the &longs;ame Author writes that
po&longs;ed certain Ver&longs;es, which would give Ea&longs;e
in Di&longs;tempers; and
that the
drive away evil Spirits, and taught the Methods
by which
Bea&longs;ts to do mi&longs;chief.
there were Men who u&longs;ed to carry Charms
about them, by which they were &longs;ecured a
gain&longs;t all unhappy Turns of Fortune; and that
tho&longs;e Charms were &longs;o powerful, that the Per
&longs;ons who wore them could never die till they
were taken from them. If the&longs;e Things could
be true, I &longs;hould ea&longs;ily believe what we read
in
an Image, which if it were brought out of the
with Terror and Dread on whatever Side it was
turned; and that no Eye dur&longs;t look towards
it, for Fear. The&longs;e miraculous Accounts we
have in&longs;erted only by way of Amu&longs;ement. As
to other Particulars which may help to make
the Situation beautiful, con&longs;idered in a general
View, &longs;uch as the Circumference, the Space
round about it, its Elevation, Levelling,
Strengthening, and the like, I have nothing
more to &longs;ay here, but to refer you for In&longs;truc
tions to the fir&longs;t and third Books. The chief
Qualities requi&longs;ite in a Situation or Platform
(as we have there ob&longs;erved) are to be perfectly
dry, even, and &longs;olid, as al&longs;o convenient and
&longs;uitable to the Purpo&longs;e of the Building; and
it will be a very great Help to it, to &longs;trengthen
it with a good Bottom made of baked Earth,
in the Manner which we &longs;hall teach when we
come to treat of the Wall. We mu&longs;t not here
omit an Ob&longs;ervation made by
will be a great Addition to the Dignity of the
Place, if you give it &longs;ome great Name; and
this we find the Emperor
fond of doing, when he gave the Names of
great Titles to the &longs;everal Parts of his
CHAP. V.
adorning the Wall and Covering.
Though we have already &longs;aid almo&longs;t
as much as was nece&longs;&longs;ary of the Com
partition in the fir&longs;t Book, yet we &longs;hall take a
brief Review of it again here. The chief and
fir&longs;t Ornament of any Thing is to be free from
all Improprieties. It will therefore be a ju&longs;t
and proper Compartition, if it is neither con
fu&longs;ed nor interrupted, neither too rambling nor
compo&longs;ed of un&longs;uitable Parts, and if the Mem
bers be neither too many nor too few, neither
too &longs;mall nor too large, nor mi&longs;-matcht nor un
&longs;ightly, nor as it were &longs;eparate and divided
from the Re&longs;t of the Body: But every Thing
&longs;o di&longs;po&longs;ed according to Nature and Conveni
ence, and the U&longs;es for which the Structure is
intended, with &longs;uch Order, Number, Size, Si
tuation and Form, that we may be &longs;atisfied
there is nothing throughout the whole Fabrick,
but what was contrived for &longs;ome U&longs;e or Con
venience, and with the hand&longs;ome&longs;t Compact
ne&longs;s of all the Parts. If the Compartition
an&longs;wers in all the&longs;e Re&longs;pects, the Beauty and
Richne&longs;s of any Ornaments will &longs;it well upon
it; if not, it is impo&longs;&longs;ible it &longs;hould have any
Air of Dignity at all. The whole Compo&longs;iti
on of the Members therefore &longs;hould &longs;eem to be
made and directed entirely by Nece&longs;&longs;ity and
Conveniency; &longs;o that you may not be &longs;o much
plea&longs;ed that there are &longs;uch or &longs;uch Parts in
the Building, as that they are di&longs;po&longs;ed and laid
out in &longs;uch a Situation, Order and Connection. In adorning the Wall and Covering, you will
have &longs;ufficient Room to di&longs;play the fine&longs;t Ma
terials produced by Nature, and the mo&longs;t curi
ous Contrivance and Skill of the Artificer. If
it were in your Power to imitate the ancient
Gold, one to the Heavenly, the other to the
Royal
Stone, almo&longs;t beyond humane Belief, like that
which
of
every Way, and an hundred and fifty long;
or if you had &longs;uch large Stone, that you could
make &longs;ome Part of the Work all of one Piece,
like a Chapel in
forty Cubits wide in Front, and hollowed in
one &longs;ingle Stone, and &longs;o al&longs;o covered with an
other: This no doubt would create a va&longs;t deal
of Admiration in the Beholders, and e&longs;pecially
if the Stone was a foreign one, and brought
through difficult Ways, like that which
dotus
of
broad, and fifteen high, and was carried as far
as It will al&longs;o add great
ly to the Ornament and Wonder of the Work,
if &longs;uch an extraordinary Stone be &longs;et in a re
markable and honourable Place. Thus the
little Temple at
is not &longs;o &longs;urprizing upon Account of being co
vered with one &longs;ingle Stone, as upon Account
of &longs;uch a huge Stone's being rai&longs;ed to &longs;o great a
Height. The Rarity and Beauty of the Stone
it&longs;elf will al&longs;o add greatly to the Ornament; as
for In&longs;tance, if it is that &longs;ort of Marble, with
white, &longs;o clear and tran&longs;parent, that even when
all the Doors were &longs;hut the Light &longs;eemed to be
enclo&longs;e within the Temple. All the&longs;e Things
are very Noble in them&longs;elves; but they will
make no Figure if there is not Care and Art
u&longs;ed in their Compo&longs;ition or putting together:
For every Thing mu&longs;t be reduced to exact Mea
&longs;ure, &longs;o that all the Parts may corre&longs;pond with
one another, the Right with the Left, the
lower Parts with the Upper, with nothing in
terfering that may blemi&longs;h either the Order or
the Materials, but every Thing &longs;quared to ex
act Angles and &longs;imilar Lines. We may often
ob&longs;erve that ba&longs;e Materials managed with Art,
make a hand&longs;omer Shew than the Noble&longs;t
heaped together in Confu&longs;ion. Who can ima
gine that the Wall of
informs us was built &longs;o tumultuou&longs;ly that they
even threw into it &longs;ome of the Statues of their
Sepulchres, could have any Beauty in it, or be
any ways adorned by being full of broken Sta
tues? On the Contrary, we are very much
plea&longs;ed with the Walls of &longs;ome old Country
Hou&longs;es, though they are built of any Stone
that the People could pick up; becau&longs;e they
are di&longs;po&longs;ed in even Rows, with an alternate
Checquer of Black and White: &longs;o that con
&longs;idering the Meanne&longs;s of the Structure, no
thing can be de&longs;ired hand&longs;omer. But perhaps
this Con&longs;ideration belongs rather to that Part
of the Wall which is called the outward Coat,
than to the Body of the Wall it&longs;elf. To con
clude, all your Materials &longs;hould be &longs;o di&longs;tribu
ted that nothing &longs;hould be begun, but accord
ing to &longs;ome judicious Plan; nothing carried on
but in pur&longs;uance of the &longs;ame; and no Part of
it left imperfect, but fini&longs;hed and compleated
with the utmo&longs;t Care and Diligence. But the
principal Ornament both of the Wall and Co
vering, and e&longs;pecially of all vaulted Roofs (al
ways excepted Columns) is the outward Coat:
And this may be of &longs;everal Sorts; either all
white, or adorned with Figures and Stuc-work,
or with Painting, or Pictures &longs;et in Pannels, or
with
the&longs;e together.
CHAP. VI.
another or rai&longs;ed to any great Height.
Of tho&longs;e Ornaments la&longs;t mentioned we are
to treat; and to &longs;hew what they are and
how they are to be made; but having in the
la&longs;t Chapter mentioned the moving of va&longs;t
Stones, it &longs;eems nece&longs;&longs;ary here to give &longs;ome
Account in what Manner &longs;uch huge Bodies are
moved, and how they are rai&longs;ed to &longs;uch high
and difficult Places.
cu&longs;e,
ing through the Middle of the Market Place,
with his Hand, as if he had been only leading
along a Hor&longs;e by the Bridle: But we &longs;hall here
con&longs;ider only tho&longs;e Things that are nece&longs;&longs;ary
in Practice; and then take Notice of &longs;ome
Points, by which Men of Learning and good
Apprehen&longs;ions may fully and clearly under
&longs;tand the whole Bu&longs;ine&longs;s of them&longs;elves.
&longs;ays, that the Obelisk brought from
to
the
king out &longs;ome of the Bricks they could at any
Time lighten the Ve&longs;&longs;el of its Lading. We
find in
that an Obelisk was brought from the
a Ve&longs;&longs;el of three hundred Oars, and laid upon
Rollers at three Miles di&longs;tance from
&longs;o drawn into the great
Gate that leads to
thou&longs;and Men laboured hard at the crecting it,
though the whole
but va&longs;t Engines and Ropes of a prodigious
Thickne&longs;s. We read in
and his Son
and Architraves to
they borrowed from tho&longs;e Cylinders with
which the Ancients u&longs;ed to level the Ground:
For in each End of the Stone they fixed a Pin
of Iron which they fa&longs;tened in with Lead,
which Pin &longs;tood out and &longs;erved as an Axis,
and at each End was let into a Wheel &longs;o large
as for the Stone to hang upon its Pins above
the Ground; and &longs;o by the Motion of the
Wheels the Stones were carried along with a
great deal of Ea&longs;e. We are told that
minus
Mound of Earth all the Way up along with
the Building, by which he carried up tho&longs;e
huge Stones into their Places.
that
building of that Pyramid which employed an
hundred thou&longs;and Men for many Years, left
Steps on the Out&longs;ide of it, by means of which
the large&longs;t Stones might by proper Engines, be
rai&longs;ed up into their Places without having Oc
ca&longs;ion for very long Timbers. We read too
of Architraves of va&longs;t Stones being laid upon
huge Columns in the following Manner: Un
der the Middle of the Architrave they &longs;et two
Bearers acro&longs;s, pretty near each other. Then
they loaded one End of the Architraves with a
great Number of Baskets full of Sand, the
Weight of which rai&longs;ed up the other End, on
which there were no Baskets, and one of the
Bearers was left without any Weight upon it:
Then removing the Baskets to the other End
&longs;o rai&longs;ed up, and putting under &longs;ome higher
Bearers in the Room of that which was left
without Weight, the Stone by little and little
ro&longs;e up as it were of its own accord. The&longs;e
Things which we have here briefly collect
ed together, we leave to be more clearly
learnt from the Authors them&longs;elves. But
the Method of this Treati&longs;e requires, that we
&longs;hould &longs;peak &longs;uccinctly of &longs;ome few Things
that make to our Purpo&longs;e. I &longs;hall not wa&longs;te
Time in explaining any &longs;uch curious Principles,
as that it is the Nature of all heavy Bodies to
pre&longs;s continually downwards, and ob&longs;tinately
to &longs;eek the lowe&longs;t Place; that they make the
greate&longs;t Re&longs;i&longs;tance they are able again&longs;t being
rai&longs;ed aloft, and never change their Place, but
after the &longs;toute&longs;t Conflict, being either over
come by &longs;ome greater Weight or &longs;ome more
powerful contrary Force. Nor &longs;hall I &longs;tand to
ob&longs;erve that Motions are various, from high to
low or from low to high, directly, or about a
Curve; and that &longs;ome Things are carried, &longs;ome
drawn, &longs;ome pu&longs;hed on, and the like; of
which Enquiries we &longs;hall treat more copiou&longs;ly
in another Place. This we may lay down for
certain, that a Weight is never moved with &longs;o
much Ea&longs;e as it is downwards; becau&longs;e it then
moves it&longs;elf, nor ever with more Difficulty,
than upwards; becau&longs;e it naturally re&longs;i&longs;ts that
Direction; and that there is a Kind of middle
Motion between the&longs;e two, which perhaps par
takes &longs;omewhat of the Nature of both the
others, ina&longs;much as it neither moves of it&longs;elf,
nor of it&longs;elf re&longs;i&longs;ts, as when a Weight is drawn
upon an even Plain, free from all Rubs. All
other Motions are ea&longs;y or difficult in Proporti
on as they approach to either of the preceding. And indeed Nature her&longs;elf &longs;eems in a good
Mea&longs;ure to have &longs;hewn us in what Manner
great Weights are to be moved: for we may
ob&longs;erve, that if any con&longs;iderable Weight is laid
upon a Column &longs;tanding upright, the lea&longs;t
Shove will pu&longs;h it off, and when once it be
gins to fall, hardly any Force is &longs;ufficient to
&longs;top it. We may al&longs;o ob&longs;erve, that any round
Column, or Wheel, or any other Body that
turns about, is very ea&longs;ily moved, and very
hard to &longs;top when once it is &longs;et on going; and
if it is draged along without rowling, it does
not move with half the Ea&longs;e. We further &longs;ee,
that the va&longs;t Weight of a Ship may be moved
upon a &longs;tanding Water with a very &longs;mall Force,
if you keep pulling continually; but if you
&longs;trike it with ever &longs;o great a Blow &longs;uddenly, it
will not &longs;tir an Inch: On the Contrary, &longs;ome
Things will move with a &longs;udden Blow or a fu
rious Pu&longs;h, which could not otherwi&longs;e be &longs;tirred
without a mighty Force or huge Engines. Upon Ice too the greate&longs;t Weights make but a
&longs;mall Re&longs;i&longs;tance, again&longs;t one that tries to draw
them. We likewi&longs;e &longs;ee that any Weight which
hangs upon a long Rope, is very ea&longs;ily moved
as far as a certain Point; but not &longs;o ea&longs;ily, fur
ther. The Con&longs;ideration of the Rea&longs;ons of
the&longs;e Things, and the Imitation of them, may
be very u&longs;eful to our Purpo&longs;e; and therefore
we &longs;hall briefly treat of them here. The Keel
or Bottom of any Weight, that is to be drawn
along, &longs;hould be even and &longs;olid; and the
Broader it is, the le&longs;s it will plough up the
Ground all the Way under it, but then the
Thinner it is, it will &longs;lip along the Quicker,
only it will make the deeper Furrows, and be
apter to &longs;tick: If there are any Angles or Ine
qualities in the Bottom of the Weight, it will
u&longs;e them as Claws to fa&longs;ten it&longs;elf in the Plain,
and to re&longs;i&longs;t its own Motion. If the Plain be
&longs;mooth, &longs;ound, even, hard, not ri&longs;ing or &longs;ink
ing on any Side, the Weight will have nothing
to hinder its Motion, or to make it re&longs;u&longs;e to
obey, but its own natural Love of Re&longs;t, which
makes it lazy and unwilling to be moved. Perhaps it was from a Con&longs;ideration of the&longs;e
Things, and from a deeper Examination of the
Particulars we have here mentioned, and
chimedes
ly a Ba&longs;is for &longs;o immen&longs;e a Weight, he would
not doubt to turn the World it&longs;elf about. The
Preparation of the Bottom of the Weight and
is what we are here to con&longs;ider, may be effect
ed in the following Manner. Let &longs;uch a Num
ber of Poles be laid along, and of &longs;uch a
Strength and Thickne&longs;s as may be &longs;ufficient
for the Weight; let them be &longs;ound, even,
&longs;mooth, and clo&longs;e joined to one another: Be
tween the Bottom of the Weight and this Plain
which it is to &longs;lide upon, there &longs;hould be &longs;ome
thing to make the Way more &longs;lippery; and
this may be either Soap, or Tallow, or Lees of
Oil, or perhaps Slime. There is another Way
of making the Weight &longs;lip along, which is by
underlaying it cro&longs;s-ways with Rollers: But
the&longs;e, though you have a &longs;ufficient Number of
them, are very hard to be kept even to their
proper Lines and exact Direction; which it is
ab&longs;olutely nece&longs;&longs;ary they &longs;hould be, and that
they &longs;hould all do Duty equally and at once,
or el&longs;e they will run together in Confu&longs;ion,
and carry the Weight to one Side And if you
have but few of them, being continually load
ed, they will either be &longs;plit or flatted, and &longs;o
be rendered u&longs;ele&longs;s; or el&longs;e that &longs;ingle Line
with which they touch the Plain underneath,
or that other with which they touch the
Weight that is laid upon them, will &longs;tick fa&longs;t
with their &longs;harp Points and be immoveable
A Cylinder or Roller is a Body con&longs;i&longs;ting of a
Number of Circles joined together; and the
Mathematicians &longs;ay that a Circle can never
touch a right Line in more than one Point;
for which Rea&longs;on I call the &longs;ingle Line which
is pre&longs;&longs;ed by the Weight, the Point of the Rol
ler. The only Way to provide again&longs;t this In
convenience, is to have the Roller made of the
&longs;tronge&longs;t and &longs;ounde&longs;t Stuff, and exactly ac
cording to Rule and Proportion.
CHAP. VII.
But as there are &longs;everal other Things, be
&longs;ides tho&longs;e already mentioned, which are
nece&longs;&longs;ary for our Purpo&longs;e, &longs;uch as Wheels, Pul
lies, Skrews and Leavers, we &longs;hall here treat of
them more di&longs;tinctly. Wheels in a great Mea
&longs;ure are the &longs;ame as Rollers, as they always
pre&longs;s down perpendicularly upon one Point:
But there is this Difference between them,
namely, that Rollers are more expeditious,
Wheels being hindered by the Friction of their
Pins or Axis. The Parts of a Wheel are three:
The large outer Circle, the Pin or Axis in the
Middle, and the Hole or Circle into which the
Pin is let. This Circle &longs;ome perhaps would
rather call the Pole; but becau&longs;e in &longs;ome Ma
chines it &longs;tands &longs;till, and in others moves about,
we rather de&longs;ire Leave to call it the Axicle. If the Wheel turns upon a very thick Axis, it
will go very hard; if upon too thin a one, it
will not &longs;upport its Load; if the outer Circle
of the Wheel be too &longs;mall, the &longs;ame Inconve
nience will happen that we ob&longs;erved of the
Roller, that is, it will &longs;tick in the Plain; if it
be too large, it will go along tottering from
Side to Side, and it will never be ready or
handy at turning one way or the other. If the
Axicle or Circle in which the Axis turns, be
too large, it will grind its Way out; if it be
too narrow, it will hardly be able to turn. Be
tween the Axis and the Circle in which it turns,
there &longs;hould be &longs;omewhat to lubricate: Be
cau&longs;e one of the&longs;e is to be con&longs;idered as the
Plain, and the other as the Bottom or Keel of
the Weights. Rollers and Wheels &longs;hould be
made of Elm or Holm-Oak: The Axis of
Holly or the Cornel-tree, or indeed rather of
Iron: The Circle for the Wheel to turn in, is
made be&longs;t of Bra&longs;s with one third of Tin. Pul
lies are little Wheels. Leavers are of the Na
ture of the Radii or Spokes of a Wheel. But
every Thing of this Sort, whether large Wheels
which Men turn about by walking within
them, or Cranes or Skrews, or any other En
gine, working either by Leavers or Pullies; the
Principles, I &longs;ay, of all the&longs;e are deduced from
the Balance. They tell us, that
believed to be a God chiefly upon this Ac
count, that without the lea&longs;t Ge&longs;ture with his
Hand, he could make his Meaning perfectly
clear and plain by his Words. This, though
I am a little fearful of &longs;ucceeding in it, I &longs;hall
here endeavour to do to the utmo&longs;t of my
Power: For my De&longs;ign is to &longs;peak of the&longs;e
Things not like a Mathematician, but like a
Workman; and to &longs;ay no more than is ab&longs;o
lutely nece&longs;&longs;ary. For the clearer under&longs;tand
ing therefore of this Matter, I will &longs;uppo&longs;e that
you have in your Hand, a Dart. In this Dart I
I call Points; the two Ends, that is the Steel
and the Peathers, and the third is the Loop in
the Middle for throwing the Dart by; and the
two Spaces between the two Ends and the
Loop, I &longs;hall call the Radii. I &longs;hall not di&longs;
pute about the Rea&longs;ons of the&longs;e Names, which
will appear better from the Con&longs;ideration of
the Thing it&longs;elf. If the Loop be placed ex
actly in the Middle of the Dart, and the Fea
ther End be ju&longs;t equal in Weight to the Steel,
both Ends of the Dart will certainly hang even
and be equally poi&longs;ed; if the &longs;teel End be the
Heavie&longs;t, the Feather will be thrown up, but
yet there will be a certain Point in the Dart
further towards the heavy End, to which if
you &longs;lip the Loop, the Weight will be imme
diately brought to an equal Poi&longs;e again; and
this will be the Point by which the larger Ra
dius exceeds the &longs;maller ju&longs;t as much as the
&longs;maller Weight is exceeded by the larger. For
tho&longs;e who apply them&longs;elves to the Study of
the&longs;e Matters, tell us, that unequal Radii may
be made equal to unequal Weights, provided
the Number of the Parts of the Radius and
Weight of the right Side, multiplied together,
be equal to the Number of tho&longs;e Parts on the
oppo&longs;ite left Side: Thus if the Steel be three
Parts, and the Feather two, the Radius be
tween the Loop and the Steel mu&longs;t be two, and
the other Radius between the Loop and the
Feather mu&longs;t be three. By which Means, as
this Number five will an&longs;wer to the five on the
oppo&longs;ite Side, the Radii and the Weights an
&longs;wering equally to one another, they will hang
even and be equally poi&longs;ed. If the Number
on each Side do not an&longs;wer to one another,
that Side will overcome on which that Inequa
lity of Numbers lies. I will not omit one Ob
&longs;ervation, namely, that if equal Radii run out
from both Sides of the Loop, and you give the
Ends a twirl round in the Air they will de
&longs;eribe equal Circles; but if the Radii be un
equal, the Circles which they de&longs;cribe, will be
unequal al&longs;o. We have already &longs;aid that a
Wheel is made up of a Number of Circles:
Whence it is evident, that if two Wheels let
into the &longs;ame Axis be turned by one and the
&longs;ame Motion, &longs;o as when one moves the
other cannot &longs;tand &longs;till, or when one &longs;tands
&longs;till the other cannot move; from the Length
of the Radii or Spokes in each Wheel we may
come at the Knowledge of the Force which is
in that Wheel, remembring always to take the
Length of the Radius &longs;rom the very Center of
the Axis. If the&longs;e Principles are &longs;ufficiently
under&longs;tood, the whole Secret of all the&longs;e En
gines of which we are here treating, will be
mani&longs;e&longs;t; e&longs;pecially with Relation to Wheels
and Leavers. In Pullies indeed we may con
&longs;ider &longs;ome &longs;urther Particulars: For both the
Rope which runs in the Pully and the little
Wheel in the Pully are as the Plain, whereon
the Weight is to be carried with the middle
Motion, which we ob&longs;erved in the la&longs;t Chapter
was between the mo&longs;t Ea&longs;y and the mo&longs;t Dif
ficult, ina&longs;much as it is neither to be rai&longs;ed up
nor let down, but to be drawn along upon the
Plain keeping always to one Center. But that
you may under&longs;tand the Rea&longs;on of the Thing
more clearly, take a Statue of a thou&longs;and
Weight; if you hang this to the Trunk of a
Tree by one &longs;ingle Rope, it is evident this Rope
mu&longs;t bear the whole thou&longs;and Weight. Fa&longs;ten
a Pully to the Statue, and into this Pully let
the Rope by which the Statute hangs, and bring
this Rope up again to the Trunk of the Tree,
&longs;o as the Statue may hang upon the double
Rope, it is plain the Weight of the Statue is
then divided between two Ropes, and that the
Pully in the Middle divides the Weight equal
ly between them. Let us go on yet further,
and to the Trunk of the Tree fa&longs;ten another
Pully and bring the Rope up through this
likewi&longs;e. I ask you what Weight this Part of
the Rope thus brought up and put through
the Pully will take upon it&longs;elf: You will &longs;ay
five hundred; do you not perceive from hence
that no greater Weight can be thrown upon
this &longs;econd Pully by the Rope, than what the
Rope has it&longs;elf; and that is five hundred. I
&longs;hall therefore go no farther, having, I think,
demon&longs;trated that a Weight is divided by Pul
lies, by which means a greater Weight may be
moved by a &longs;maller; and the more Pullies
there are, the more &longs;till the Weight is divided;
from whence it follows that the more Wheels
there are in them, &longs;o many more Parts the
Weight is &longs;plit into and may &longs;o much the more
ea&longs;ily be managed.
PLATE 10.
PLATE 11.
PLATE 12.
PLATE 13.
CHAP. VIII.
are either drawn, carried or pu&longs;hed along.
We have already treated of Wheels, Pul
lies and Leavers; we are now to pro
ceed to the Skrew. A Skrew con&longs;i&longs;ts of a
Number of Circles like Rings, which take up
on them&longs;elves the Burthen of the Weight. If
the&longs;e Rings were entire, and not broken in
&longs;uch a Manner, that the End of one of them is
the Beginning of the other; it is certain the
Weight which they &longs;upport, though it might
be moved about, would neither go upwards nor
downwards, but evenly round upon an equal
Plain according to the Direction of the Rings:
The Weight therefore is forced to &longs;lide either
upwards or downwards along the Slope of the
Rings, which act herein after the Manner of
the Leaver. Again, if the&longs;e Rings or this Worm
be of a &longs;mall Circumference, or be cut in too
near to the Center of the Skrew, the Weight
will then be moved by &longs;horter Leavers and
with a &longs;maller Force. I will not here omit one
Thing which I did not think to have menti
oned in this Place: Namely, that if you could
&longs;o order it that the Bottom or Keel of any
Weight which you would move might (as far
as could be done by the Art and Skill of the
Workman) be made no broader than a Point,
and be moved in &longs;uch a Manner upon a firm
and &longs;olid Plain as not in the lea&longs;t to cut into
it, I would engage you &longs;hould move
medes's
Nature what&longs;oever. But of the&longs;e Matters we
&longs;hall treat in another Place. Each of the&longs;e
Forces in particular, of which we have already
&longs;poken, are of great Power for the moving of
any Weight; but when they are all joined to
gether, they are va&longs;tly &longs;tronger. In
you every where &longs;ee the Youth &longs;porting upon
the Ice with a &longs;ort of wooden Pattens with a
very fine thin Bottom of Steel, in which with
a very &longs;mall Strain they &longs;lip over the Ice with
&longs;o much Swiftne&longs;s, that the quicke&longs;t flying
Bird can hardly out-go them. But as all Weights
are either drawn, or pu&longs;hed along, or carried,
we may di&longs;tingui&longs;h them thus: That they are
drawn by Ropes; pu&longs;hed along by Leavers;
and carried by Wheels, Rollers and the like:
And how all the&longs;e Powers may be made u&longs;e of
at the &longs;ame Time, is manife&longs;t. But in all the&longs;e
Methods, there mu&longs;t of Nece&longs;&longs;ity be &longs;ome one
Thing, which &longs;tanding firm and immoveable
it&longs;elf, may &longs;erve to move the Weight in Que&longs;
tion. If this Weight is to be drawn, there mu&longs;t
be &longs;ome greater Weight, to which you may
fa&longs;ten the In&longs;truments you are to employ; and
if no &longs;uch Weight can be had, fix a &longs;trong iron
Stake of the Length of three Cubits, deep in
to the Ground which mu&longs;t be rammed down
tight all about it, or well &longs;trengthened with
Piles laid cro&longs;s-ways: And then fa&longs;ten the
Ropes of your Pullies or Cranes to the Head
of the Stake which &longs;tands up out of the Ground. If the Ground be &longs;andy, lay long Poles all the
Way for the Weight to &longs;lide upon, and at the
Head of the&longs;e Poles fa&longs;ten your In&longs;truments to
a good &longs;trong Stake. I will take Notice of
one Thing which the Unexperienced will never
allow, till they under&longs;tand the Matter thorough
ly; which is, that along a Plain it is more con
venient to draw two Weights than one; and
this is done in the following Manner: Having
moved the fir&longs;t Weight to the End of the
Timbers laid for it to &longs;lide upon, fix it there
with Wedges in &longs;uch a Manner that nothing
can &longs;tir it, and then fa&longs;ten or tie to it the En
gines, or In&longs;truments with which you are to
draw your other Weight; and thus the move
able Weight will be overcome and drawn along
the &longs;ame Plain by the other Weight, which is
no more than equal to it, but only that it is
fixed. If the Weight is to be drawn up on high,
we may very conveniently make u&longs;e of one
&longs;ingle Pole, or rather of the Ma&longs;t of a Ship;
but it mu&longs;t be very &longs;tout and &longs;trong. This
Ma&longs;t we mu&longs;t &longs;et upright, fa&longs;tening the Foot
of it to a Stake, or fixing it &longs;trong in any other
Manner that you plea&longs;e. To the upper End of
it we mu&longs;t fa&longs;ten no le&longs;s than three Ropes, one
on the right Side, another on the le&longs;t, and the
other running down directly even with the
Ma&longs;t. Then at &longs;ome Di&longs;tance from the Foot
of the Ma&longs;t fix your Cap&longs;tern and Pullies in
the Ground, and putting this la&longs;t Rope through
the Pullies, let it run through them &longs;o as to
draw the Head of the Ma&longs;t a little downwards,
proper by means of the two &longs;ide Ropes, as with
two Reins, making it either &longs;tand upright
whenever we find it nece&longs;&longs;ary, or &longs;toop which
&longs;oever way we Plea&longs;e to &longs;et down the Weight
in the proper place. As to the&longs;e two &longs;ide
Ropes, if you have no greater Weight to fa&longs;ten
them to, you may fix them in the following
Manner: Dig a &longs;quare Pit in the Ground, and
in it lay the Trunk of a Tree, to which fa&longs;ten
one or more Loops that may &longs;tand up out of
the Ground; then lay &longs;ome cro&longs;s Timbers over
the Trunk, and fill up the Pit with Earth, ram
ming it down very clo&longs;e, and if you wet it, it
will be the heavier. In all the other Particu
lars, you may ob&longs;erve the Rules we have laid
down as to the Plain on which the Weight is
to &longs;lide: For you mu&longs;t fa&longs;ten Pullies both to
the Head of the Ma&longs;t and to the Weight which
is to be rai&longs;ed, and near the Foot of the Ma&longs;t
you mu&longs;t fix your Cap&longs;tern, or whatever other
In&longs;trument you u&longs;e that acts with the Power of
the Leaver. In all Engines of this Nature de
&longs;igned for the moving of great Weights, we
&longs;hould take Care that none of the Parts of the
Machine which are to have any Stre&longs;s upon
them, be too &longs;mall, and that none of our
Ropes, Spokes, or any other Medium which
we u&longs;e in the Movement be weak by means of
their Length; for indeed long and thin are in
a Manner &longs;ynonimous Terms, and &longs;o, on the
Contrary, are &longs;hort and thick. If the Ropes
are &longs;mall let them run double in the Pullies;
if they are very thick, you mu&longs;t get larger
Pullies, that the Rope may not be cut by the
Edges of the Pully-wheel. The Axis of the
Pully &longs;hould be Iron, and not le&longs;s in Thickne&longs;s
than the &longs;ixth Part of the Semidiameter of the
Pully it&longs;elf, nor more than the eighth Part of
the whole Diameter. If the Rope be wetted,
it will be the more &longs;ecure from taking Fire,
which &longs;ometimes happens by means of its Mo
tion and Friction in the Pully; it will al&longs;o turn
the Pully round the better, and keep better
within the Wheel. It is better to wet the
Rope with Vinegar than with Water; but if
you do it with Water, Sea-water is be&longs;t. If
you wet with fre&longs;h Water, and it is expo&longs;ed to
the Heat of the Sun, it will rot pre&longs;ently. Twi&longs;ting the Ropes together is much &longs;afer than
tying them; and e&longs;pecially you mu&longs;t take Care
that one Rope does not cut the other. The
Ancients u&longs;ed a Bar or Rule of Iron, to which
they fa&longs;tened the fir&longs;t Knots of their Ropes,
and their Pullies, and for taking up any Weight,
and e&longs;pecially of Stone, they had a Kind of
Pincers or Forceps of Iron. The Shape of
the&longs;e Pincers or Forceps was taken from the
Letter X, the lower Limbs of it being turned
inwards like a Crab's Claw, by which means it
fa&longs;tened it&longs;elf to the Weight. The two upper
Limbs had Holes at the Top, through which
they put a Rope, which being tied, and &longs;train
ed tight by the moving Force, made the Teeth
of the Pincers keep clo&longs;er to the Weight -A-.
In very large Stones, and e&longs;pecially in the
Middle of Columns, though perfectly &longs;mooth
in all other Parts, I have &longs;een little Knobs left
jutting out, like Handles, again&longs;t which the
Ropes were hitched, to prevent their &longs;lipping. It is al&longs;o common, e&longs;pecially in Cornices, to
make a Hole in the Stone like a Morti&longs;e, after
this Manner; you make a Hole in the Stone
like an empty Pur&longs;e, of a Bigne&longs;s an&longs;werable
to the Size of the Stone, narrower at the Mouth
than at the Bottom. I have &longs;een &longs;ome of the&longs;e
Holes a Foot deep. You then fill it with iron
Wedges, -B-the two &longs;ide Wedges being &longs;hap
ed like the letter D, which are put in fir&longs;t to
fill up the Sides of the Hole, and the middle
Wedge is put in la&longs;t between the&longs;e two. All
the&longs;e three Wedges have their Ears which pro
ject out beyond the Morti&longs;e, and the&longs;e Ears
have a Hole drilled in them, through which
you put an iron Pin, which fa&longs;tens on a &longs;trong
Handle or Ring; and to this Ring you fa&longs;ten
the Rope which runs through the Pully that
is to draw up the Weight. My way of fa&longs;ten
ing my Ropes about Columns, Jambs of Doors,
and other &longs;uch Stones which are to be &longs;et up
right, is as follows. I make a Cincture or
Hoop of Wood or Iron of a due Strength for
bearing the Weight which I am to move, and
with this Hoop I &longs;urround the Column or
other Stone in &longs;ome convenient Part, making
it tight to the Stone with long thin Wedges
drove in gently with a Hammer, then I fa&longs;ten
my Ligatures to this Hoop, and by this Means
I neither &longs;poil the Beauty of the Stone by ma
king Morti&longs;es in it, nor break the Edges of the
Jambs by the Rubbing of the Ropes again&longs;t
them: Be&longs;ides that it is the mo&longs;t expeditious,
convenient and &longs;afe&longs;t Way of fa&longs;tening the
Ropes that has been thought of. In another
Place I &longs;hall enlarge more particularly upon
many Things relating to this Subject. All I
&longs;hall ob&longs;ervc further here is, that all Engines
may be looked upon to be a Sort of Animals,
with prodigious &longs;trong Hands; and that they
move Weights ju&longs;t in the &longs;ame Manner as we
PLATE 14.
PLATE 15.
For this Rea&longs;on, the
&longs;ame Di&longs;tention and Contraction of the Mem
bers and Nerves which we u&longs;e in pulling,
thru&longs;ting or lifting, we are to imitate in our
Engines. I &longs;hall only add one Piece of Ad
vice more, which is, that whenever you are to
move any great Weight, in any Manner what
&longs;oever, you would go about it carefully, cauti
ou&longs;ly and deliberately, remembering the many
uncertain and irrecoverable Accidents and
Dangers which &longs;ometimes happen in Attempts
of this Nature, even to the mo&longs;t experienced:
For you will never get &longs;o much Honour and
Reputation if what you undertake, &longs;ucceeds, as
you will incur Blame and the Imputation of
Ra&longs;hne&longs;s, if it fails. We &longs;hall now leave this
Subject, to proceed to the outward Coat of
the Wall.
CHAP. IX.
three in Number: How they are to be made, and to what Purpo&longs;es they are
to &longs;erve. Of the &longs;everal Sorts of Mortar, and in what Manner the
Lime is to be prepared for making them: Of Ba&longs;s-relieves in Stuc-work
and Paintings, with which the Wall may be adorned.
In all Incru&longs;tations there mu&longs;t be at lea&longs;t
three Coats of Mortar; the fir&longs;t is called
Rough-ca&longs;ting, and its Office is to &longs;tick as clo&longs;e
as po&longs;&longs;ible to the Wall and to bind on the two
outer Coats; the Office of the outer Coat, is
to make the Work &longs;hew neat, &longs;mooth, and po
li&longs;hed; that of the middle Coat, which we call
Plai&longs;tering, is to prevent any Faults or Defects
in either of the other two. The Defects are
the&longs;e: If the two la&longs;t, that is to &longs;ay, the Plai&longs;t
ering and the outer Coat are &longs;harp, and to u&longs;e
&longs;uch an Expre&longs;&longs;ion, tenacious of the Wall, as
the Rough-ca&longs;t ought to be, their Acrimony
will occa&longs;ion an infinite Number of Cracks in
them in drying. And if the Rough-ca&longs;t be
&longs;oft, as the outer Coat &longs;hould be, it will not
take hold of the Wall as it ought, but will fall
off in Pieces. The oftener we plai&longs;ter the Wall
over, the better we may poli&longs;h it, and the
longer it will endure the Injuries of Time. Among the ancient Buildings I have &longs;een &longs;ome
which have been done over no le&longs;s than nine
Times. The fir&longs;t of the&longs;e &longs;hould be very &longs;harp,
and made of Pit-Sand and Brick beaten not
too fine, but about the Size of &longs;mall Gravel,
and laid on about the Thickne&longs;s of three
Inches. For the Plai&longs;tering, or middle Coat,
River-Sand is better, and is le&longs;s apt to crack. This Coat too &longs;hould be &longs;omewhat rough, be
cau&longs;e to a &longs;mooth Surface nothing will &longs;tick
that you lay on. The la&longs;t of all &longs;hould be as
white as Marble; for which Rea&longs;on, in&longs;tead of
Sand you &longs;hould u&longs;e the white&longs;t Stone that can
be got pounded &longs;mall; and it will be &longs;ufficient
if this Coat be laid on about half an Inch thick,
&longs;or when it is much more, it will not ea&longs;ily
dry. I know &longs;ome that, out of good Hu&longs;
bandry, make it no thicker than a Piece of
Shoe-leather. The &longs;econd Coat, or Plai&longs;ter
ing, ought to be ordered according to its Proxi
mity to either of the other two. In Moun
tains where there are Stone-pits, you meet
with certain Veins extremely like a tran&longs;parent
Alaba&longs;ter, which are neither Marble nor Tarres,
but of a Kind of middle Nature between both,
and very friable. If this be beat &longs;mall and
mixed up in&longs;tead of Sand, it will &longs;hew full of
little Sparks that will &longs;hine like a fine Sort of
Marble. In many Places we &longs;ee Nails &longs;tuck
into the Wall to keep on the Plai&longs;tering, and
Time has proved to us that it is better to have
them of Bra&longs;s than of Iron. I am very much
plea&longs;ed with tho&longs;e who, in&longs;tead of Nails, &longs;tick
little Pieces of Flint in between the Joints of
the Stone; which they drive in gently with a
wooden Hammer. The fre&longs;her and rougher
the Wall it&longs;elf is, the fa&longs;ter all your plai&longs;tering
Work will cleave to it: For which Rea&longs;on, if,
as you build the Wall, and while the Work is
Green, you rough-ca&longs;t it, though but &longs;lightly,
the Plai&longs;tering and outer Coat will &longs;tick to it
&longs;o fa&longs;t, as hardly ever to peel off. After &longs;outher
ly Winds, it is very proper to do any of this
Sort of Work; but if when a north Wind
blows, or in any great Cold or Heat, you offer
at any Sort of Plai&longs;tering, e&longs;pecially at laying
on the outer Coat, it will &longs;cale off pre&longs;ently. La&longs;tly, all Incru&longs;tations are of two Sorts; either
Stuc and
Plai&longs;ter are &longs;pread on; but Stuc is never good
but in very dry Places. The Moi&longs;ture trick
ling down from old Walls is extremely preju
dicial to all Sorts of Incru&longs;tations. The&longs;e In
cru&longs;tations which are fa&longs;tened to the Work are
Stone, Gla&longs;s and the like. The different Sorts
of Incru&longs;tations which are &longs;pread on are either
flat White, Ba&longs;s-relieve, or painted in Fre&longs;co. Tho&longs;e which are fa&longs;tened on, are either plain,
pannelled or te&longs;&longs;elated. We &longs;hall &longs;peak fir&longs;t of
tho&longs;e which are &longs;pread on, for which the Lime
mu&longs;t be prepared in the following Manner:
Quench it in a covered Pit with clear Water,
and let there be much more Water than Lime;
then with an Axe chop and cut it as if you
were chopping of Wood, and you will know
when it is &longs;ufficiently &longs;oaked and di&longs;&longs;olved by
the Axes not being offended by the lea&longs;t Stone
or Grit. It is thought not to be &longs;ufficiently
&longs;oaked under three Months. It is never good
unle&longs;s it be very glutinous and clammy; for if
the Axe comes out of it dry, it is a Sign it has
not had a &longs;ufficient Quantity of Water to quench
its Thir&longs;t. When you mix it up with the Sand,
or any other pounded Materials, beat it over
and over again very heartily, till it perfectly
foams again. That which was de&longs;igned for
the outer Coat the Ancients u&longs;ed to pound in
a Mortar, and they tempered their Mixture &longs;o
well, that it never &longs;tuck to the Trowel when
they came to lay it on. Upon this fir&longs;t Coat,
while it is &longs;till wet and fre&longs;h, lay on the &longs;econd,
and be &longs;ure to let all the three be laid on &longs;o
fa&longs;t as to dry together, beating them even and
&longs;mooth while they are wet. The outer Coat
of flat White, if you rub and &longs;mooth it well,
will &longs;hine like a Looking-gla&longs;s; and if when
it is almo&longs;t dry, you anoint it with Wax and
Gum Ma&longs;tix di&longs;&longs;olved in a little Oil, and heat
the Wall thus anointed with a Pan of Charcoal,
&longs;o that it may imbibe that Ointment, it will
out-do any Marble in Whitene&longs;s. I have found
by Experience that this Coat will never &longs;cale
off, if while you are working it, upon the fir&longs;t
Appearance of any Crack, you make it good
with a few Twigs of white Mallows or wild
Spart. But if you are obliged to plai&longs;ter in
the Dog-days, or in any very hot Place, cut
and beat &longs;ome old Ropes very &longs;mall, and mix
them with the Plai&longs;ter. You may al&longs;o give it
a very fine Poli&longs;h, by throwing in a little
white Soap di&longs;&longs;olved in warm Water; but if
you u&longs;e too much of this, it will make your
Work look pale. Figures in Stuc-work are
ea&longs;ily made from a Mold; and the Mold it&longs;elf
is taken off from any Relieve, by pouring &longs;ome
liquid Plai&longs;ter over it; and as it is drying, if it
is anointed with the Compo&longs;ition above men
tioned, it will get a Surface like Marble. The&longs;e
Figures are of two Sorts, one alto Relieve and
the other ba&longs;&longs;o Relieve. In an upright Wall,
the alto Relieve do extremely well: But on an
arched Cieling the ba&longs;&longs;o Relieve are better;
becau&longs;e tho&longs;e of the high Relieve being to hang
down from the Cieling, are very apt to break
off by their own Weight, which may endanger
the Per&longs;ons in the Room. It is a very good
Admonition, that where there is likely to be
much Du&longs;t, we &longs;hould never make Ornaments
of high Relieve; but flat and low, that they
may be ea&longs;ily cleaned. Of painted Surfaces
&longs;ome are done while the Work is fre&longs;h, and
others when it is dry. All natural Colours
which proceed from the Earth, from Mines or
the like, are proper for Paintings in Fre&longs;co:
But all artificial Colours, and e&longs;pecially tho&longs;e
which are altered by Means of Fire, require a
very dry Surface, and abhor Lime, the Rays of
the Moon, and &longs;outhern Winds. It has been
newly found out that Colours mixed up with
Lin&longs;eed Oil, will &longs;tand a va&longs;t While again&longs;t all
the Injuries of the Air and Sea&longs;ons, provided
the Wall on which they are laid be perfectly
dry, and quite clear of all Moi&longs;ture; though I
have ob&longs;erved that the antient Painters, in
painting the Poops of their Ships, make u&longs;e of
liquid Wax, in&longs;tead of Size. I have al&longs;o &longs;een
in the Works of the Ancients, &longs;ome Colours of
Gems laid on the Wall, if I judge rightly, with
Wax, or perhaps with a white Sort of Terra&longs;s,
which was &longs;o hardened by Time, that it could
not be got off either by Fire or Water, and you
would have taken it for a hard Sort of Gla&longs;s. I have known &longs;ome too, that with the white
milky Flower of Lime, have laid Colours up
on the Wall, while it was &longs;till fre&longs;h, that have
looked as much like Gla&longs;s as po&longs;&longs;ible. But of
this Subject, we need &longs;ay no more.
CHAP. X.
for that Purpo&longs;e; as al&longs;o of the Difference and Agreement between
As to tho&longs;e Incru&longs;tations which are fa&longs;ten
ed on to the Work, whether flat Facings,
or pannelled Work, the &longs;ame Method is to be
u&longs;ed in both. It is very &longs;urprizing to con&longs;ider
the Diligence which the Antients u&longs;ed in &longs;aw
ing and poli&longs;hing their Scantlings of Marble. I my&longs;elf have &longs;een &longs;ome Pieces of Marble above
&longs;ix Foot long and three broad, and yet &longs;carce
half an Inch thick, and the&longs;e have been joined
together with a curve Line, that the Spectators
might not ea&longs;ily find out where the Junctures
were.
mended the Sand of
&longs;awing of Marble, and that the
the neare&longs;t to it: But that the
rather too &longs;oft, though even that was better than
ours. They tell us that there is a Sort found
in a certain Flat in the
was much u&longs;ed by the Ancients. We dig a
Sand about the Shore of
improper for this Purpo&longs;e. The &longs;harp Sand
found in any Sort of Torrent is good, but the
larger it is, the wider it cuts and the more it
eats into the Stone; whereas the &longs;ofter it goes
through, the Smoother it leaves the Surface,
and the more ea&longs;ily to be poli&longs;hed. The Po
li&longs;hing mu&longs;t be begun with chizzelling, but
ended with the &longs;ofte&longs;t and &longs;moothe&longs;t rubbing. The
bing and poli&longs;hing of Marble; &longs;o is the Whet
&longs;tone, and the Emeril, who&longs;e Du&longs;t nothing can
exceed for this Purpo&longs;e. The Pumice-&longs;tone
too, for giving the la&longs;t Poli&longs;h, is very u&longs;eful. The Scum of calcined Tin, which we call Put
ty, white Lead burnt, the
particular, and the like, if they are beat in
to the fine&longs;t Du&longs;t that po&longs;&longs;ibly can be, &longs;till re
taining their Sharpne&longs;s, are very good for this
Work. For fa&longs;tening on the Scantlings, if
they are thick, fix into the Wall either Pins of
Iron, or little Spars of Marble &longs;ticking out from
the Wall, to which you may fa&longs;ten your Scant
ling without any Thing of Cement. But if the
Scantlings are thin, after the &longs;econd Plai&longs;ter
ing, in&longs;tead of Mortar, take Wax, Pitch, Ro
&longs;in, Gum Ma&longs;tic, and a good Quantity of any
other Sort of Gum what&longs;oever, all melted and
mixed together, and warm your Piece of Mar
ble by degrees, le&longs;t if you put it to the Fire at
once of a Sudden, the Heat &longs;hould make it
crack. In fixing up your Scantlings, it will be
very laudable if the Juncture and Order in
which you place them, produce a beautiful Ef
fect, by means of the Veins and Colours an
&longs;wering and &longs;etting off one another. I am
mightily plea&longs;ed with the Policy of the Anci
ents, who u&longs;ed to make tho&longs;e Parts which lay
neare&longs;t to the Eye as neat and as exactly poli&longs;hed
as was po&longs;&longs;ible, but did not take &longs;o much Pains
about tho&longs;e which &longs;tood at any Di&longs;tance, or
Heigth, and in &longs;ome Places put them up with
out any poli&longs;hing at all, where they knew the
Eye of the mo&longs;t curious Examiner could not
reach them.
that which is flat, agree in this Particular,
that both are de&longs;igned to imitate Painting, by
means of an artful Compo&longs;ition of various Co
lours of Stones, Gla&longs;s, and Shells.
to have been the Fir&longs;t that had Mother of
Pearl cut and mixed in But
herein they differ, that in
lieve we u&longs;e the large&longs;t Pieces of Marble,
that we can get; whereas in the flat
we put none but little &longs;quare Pieces, no big
ger than a Bean; and the &longs;maller the&longs;e Pieces
are, the more Bright and Sparkling they make
the Work, the Light by &longs;o many different Faces
being broke into the more various Parts. They
differ too in this, that in fa&longs;tening on the for
mer, Cement made of Gums is the Be&longs;t; but
in the flat Work, we &longs;hould u&longs;e Mortar made
of Lime, with a Mixture of
beat as &longs;mall as Du&longs;t. There are &longs;ome that, in
flat Work
Lime often in hot Water, in order to get out
its Saltne&longs;s and make it &longs;ofter and more gluey. I have known &longs;ome of the harde&longs;t Stone poli&longs;h
ed upon a Grind-&longs;tone, in order to be u&longs;ed in
the In the flat
you may fa&longs;ten Gold to Gla&longs;s with a Cement
of Lead or Litharge, which may be made more
liquid than any Sort of Gla&longs;s what&longs;oever. All
Surface of the Wall may likewi&longs;e &longs;erve as to
Pavements, of which we promi&longs;ed to &longs;peak,
only that on Pavements we never be&longs;tow fine
Painting nor &longs;uch good
you will grant the Name of Painting to a Par
get of various Colours poured into hollow little
Spaces &longs;eparated from each other by thin Par
titions of Marble in Imitation of Painting. This
Parget may be made of red Oker burnt, with
Brick, Stone and the Dro&longs;s of Iron; and when
it is laid on and is thoroughly dry, it mu&longs;t be
cleared and ground down &longs;mooth, which is done
in the following Manner: Take a hard Stone,
or rather a Piece of Lead of three&longs;core Pound
Weight, with its lower Surface perfectly &longs;mooth;
to each End of this fa&longs;ten a Rope, by which
you mu&longs;t draw it backwards and forwards over
your Pavement, &longs;till keeping it &longs;upplied with
Sand and Water, till it is rubbed exactly &longs;mooth,
and is poli&longs;hed as it ought, which it never is
unle&longs;s all the Lines and Angles of the Dies an
&longs;wer and fit one another to the greate&longs;t Nice
ne&longs;s. If this Parget be rubbed over with Oil,
e&longs;pecially that of Lin&longs;eed, it will get a Coat
like Gla&longs;s. It al&longs;o does very well to anoint it
with Lees of Oil, as al&longs;o with Water in which
Lime has been quenched, with which you
&longs;hould rub it over often. In all our
Works we &longs;hould avoid u&longs;ing the &longs;ame Co
lours too often in the &longs;ame Places, as al&longs;o too
frequent Repetitions of the &longs;ame Figures and
Irregularity in the Compo&longs;ition of them. We
&longs;hould likewi&longs;e take Care that the Junctures
are not too wide, but that every Thing be fit
ted together with the utmo&longs;t Exactne&longs;s, that
equal Care may appear to have been u&longs;ed in all
Parts of the Work.
CHAP. XI.
of the Rafters, Vaults and open Terra&longs;&longs;es.
The Coverings too have their Beauty and
Gratefulne&longs;s from the Contrivance of
the Rafters, Vaults and open Terra&longs;&longs;es. There
are Roofs yet to be &longs;een in
with Rafters of Bra&longs;s, forty Foot long; a Work
wherein we know not which to admire mo&longs;t,
the Greatne&longs;s of the Expence, or the Skill of
the Workmen. In the Temple of
was a Roof of Cedar, which la&longs;ted a va&longs;t
While.
of
ver. There are &longs;till to be &longs;een Temples covered
with Slabs of Marble, as, we are told, was the
Temple of
ones of &longs;uch wonderful Whitene&longs;s and Splen
dor, that at a Di&longs;tance the whole Roof appear
ed like a Mountain of Snow.
fir&longs;t that gilt the Bra&longs;s Tiles on the Capitol
with Gold. I find too that the
Bra&longs;s gilt; and Pope
Time
new Religion and Wor&longs;hip, covered the Church
of St.
manyIn many
Places we cover our Roofs with Lead, which
will endure a great While, &longs;hews very hand
&longs;ome, and is not very expen&longs;ive; but it is at
tended with this Inconvenience, that if it is laid
upon a Stone Roof, not having room for Air
under it, when the Stones come to be heated
by the Rays of the Sun, it will melt. There
is an Experiment which may convince us of
the Truth of this. If you &longs;et a leaden Ve&longs;&longs;el
full of Water upon the Fire, it will not melt;
but if you throw the lea&longs;t Stone into it,
where that touches it will immediately melt
into a Hole. Be&longs;ides this, if it is not well
cramped and pinned down in all Parts, it is
ea&longs;ily ripped off by the Wind. Moreover it is
pre&longs;ently eat into and &longs;poilt by the Saltne&longs;s of
Lime; &longs;o that it does much the be&longs;t upon
Timbers, if you are not afraid of Fire: But
here again, there is a great Inconvenience arif
ing from the Nails, e&longs;pecially if they are of
Iron, ina&longs;much as they are more apt to grow
hoter than Stone, and, be&longs;ides, eat away the
Lead all about them with Ru&longs;t. For this
Rea&longs;on the Cramps and Pins ought al&longs;o to be
all of Lead, and mu&longs;t be fa&longs;tened into the
Sheets with hot Sodder. Under this Covering
you &longs;hould make a thin Bed of A&longs;hes of Wil
low, wa&longs;hed and mixed with Chalk. Bra&longs;s
Nails are not &longs;o apt to grow hot or to ru&longs;t, as If Lead is daubed with any Sort
of Filch, it quickly &longs;poils; and for this Rea&longs;on
we &longs;hould take Care that our Roof be not a
convenient Harbour for Birds; or if it is a like
ly Place for them to get together in, we &longs;hould
make our Stuff thick where their Dung is to
fall.
of
of Chains, to which hung four hundred little
Bells continually vibrating, the Noi&longs;e of which
drove away the Birds. In the Covering we
al&longs;o adorn the Ridge, Gutters and Angles, by
&longs;etting up Va&longs;es, Balls, Statues, Chariots and
the like, each of which we &longs;hall &longs;peak of in
particular in its due Place. At pre&longs;ent I do
not call to Mind any thing further relating to
this Sort of Ornaments in general, except that
each be adapted to the Place to which it is
mo&longs;t &longs;uitable.
CHAP. XII.
many and various Difficulties and Inconveniences; that the fal&longs;e Apertures
are of two Sorts, and what is required in each.
The Ornaments of the Aperture give no
&longs;mall Beauty and Dignity to the Work,
but they are attended with many great Diffi
culties, which cannot be provided again&longs;t
without a good deal of Skill in the Artificer,
and a con&longs;iderable Expence. They require very
large Stones, &longs;ound, equal, hand&longs;ome and rare,
which are Things not ea&longs;ily to be got, and
when got not ea&longs;ily removed, poli&longs;hed, or &longs;et
up according to your Intention.
that the Architects owned they could not &longs;et
up a Column exactly perpendicular, which in
all Apertures is ab&longs;olutely nece&longs;&longs;ary both with
Re&longs;pect to Duration and Beauty. There are
other Inconveniencies be&longs;ides; which, as far as
lies in our Power, we &longs;hall endeavour to pro
vide again&longs;t. An Aperture naturally implies
an Opening; but &longs;ometimes behind this Open
ing we run up a Wall which makes a Kind
of fal&longs;e Opening which is not pervious but
clo&longs;ed up; which for this Rea&longs;on we &longs;hall ac
cordingly call a fal&longs;e Aperture. This Sort of
Ornaments, as indeed were mo&longs;t of tho&longs;e
which &longs;erve either to &longs;trengthen the Work or
to &longs;ave Expence, was fir&longs;t invented by the
Carpenters, and afterwards imitated by the
Ma&longs;ons, who thereby gave no &longs;mall Beauty to
their Structures. Any of the&longs;e Apertures would
be more beautiful if their Ribs were all of one
Piece, made of one entire Stone; and next to
this, is the having the Parts &longs;o nicely joined
that the Joints cannot be &longs;een. The Ancients
u&longs;ed to erect their Columns and other Stones
which &longs;erved as Ribs to the&longs;e fal&longs;e Apertures,
and fix them firm on their Ba&longs;es, before they
carried up the Wall; and herein they did very
wi&longs;ely; for by this Means they had more Room
to u&longs;e their Engines, and could take the Per
pendicular more exactly. You may plant your
Column perpendicular upon its Ba&longs;e in the fol
lowing Manner: In the Ba&longs;e and at the Top
and Bottom of the Column mark the exact
Center of each Circle. Into the Center of the
Ba&longs;e fa&longs;ten an iron Pin, &longs;oddering it in with
Lead, and make a Hole in the Center of the
Bottom of the Column, ju&longs;t big enough to re
ceive the Pin which &longs;ticks up in the Center of
the Ba&longs;e. In the Top of your Engine, or
Scaffolding, make a Mark exactly perpendicu
lar over the Pin which &longs;ticks up in the Center
of the Ba&longs;e, which you may find by letting &longs;all
Line from thence to that Pin. When you
have thus prepared every Thing, it will be no
hard Matter to move the Head of the Shaft
till its Center an&longs;wers exactly to the Mark
which you have made above and is perpendi
cular to the Center of its Ba&longs;e. I have ob&longs;erv
ed from the Works of the Ancients that the
&longs;ofter Sort of Marble may be &longs;moothed with
the very &longs;ame In&longs;truments with which we
plane Wood. The Ancients al&longs;o u&longs;ed to &longs;et
up their Stones quite rough, only &longs;moothing
the Heads and Sides of them which were to
join to other Stones, and a&longs;terwards when the
Building was rai&longs;ed, they poli&longs;hed the Faces of
the Stones, which they had le&longs;t rough before;
and this I believe they did that they might
leave the lea&longs;t Expence that was po&longs;&longs;ible to the
Hazards of their Engines: For it would have
been a much greater Lo&longs;s to them, if by Acci
dent any Stone that was quite &longs;moothed and
poli&longs;hed had been let fall and broke, than if Be&longs;ides that by this means they had the Ad
vantage of doing their Work at different Times,
according to the different Sea&longs;ons which are re
qui&longs;ite for building the Wall, and for cloathing
and poli&longs;hing it. There are two Sorts of fal&longs;e
Apertures: One is that where the Columns or
Pila&longs;ters are &longs;o joined to the Wall, that one Part
of them is hid within it, and only Part of them
appears; the other is that wherein the whole
Columns &longs;tand out of the Wall, &longs;omewhat
imitating a Portico. The former therefore we
may call the low Relieve, and the latter the
whole Relieve. In the low Relieve we may u&longs;e
either half Columns or Pila&longs;ters. The half
Columns mu&longs;t never &longs;tand more nor le&longs;s out of
the Wall than one half of their Diameter. Pi
la&longs;ter, never more than one fourth Part of its
Breadth, nor le&longs;s than a &longs;ixth. In the whole
Relieve the Columns mu&longs;t never &longs;tand out
from the Naked of the Wall more than with
their whole Ba&longs;e and one fourth Part of the
Breadth of their Ba&longs;e; and never le&longs;s than with
their whole Ba&longs;e and Sha&longs;t &longs;tanding out clear
from the Wall. But tho&longs;e which &longs;tand out
from the Wall with their whole Ba&longs;e and one
fourth Part more mu&longs;t have their Pila&longs;ters of
the low Relieve, fixed again&longs;t the Wall to an
&longs;wer to them. In the whole Relieve the En
tablature mu&longs;t not run all along the Wall but
be broke and project over the Head of each
Column, as you may &longs;ee in Plate 19. No. 4.
But in the half Relieve you may do as you
think fit, either carrying on your Entablature
entire all the Length of the Wall, or breaking
it over each Pila&longs;ter with a Sweep, after the
Manner of the whole Relieve. We have now
treated of tho&longs;e Ornaments wherein all Build
ings agree: But of tho&longs;e wherein they differ,
we &longs;hall &longs;peak in the following Book, this be
ing already long enough. But as in this we
undertook to treat of every Thing relating to
Ornaments in general, we &longs;hall not pa&longs;s by any
Thing that may be &longs;erviceable under this Head.
A.
Columns, called
CHAP. XIII.
minutions, Swells, A&longs;tragals and Fillets.
The principal Ornament in all Archi
tecture certainly lies in Columns; for
many of them &longs;et together embelli&longs;h Porticoes,
Walls and all Manner of Apertures, and even
a &longs;ingle one is hand&longs;ome, and adorns the Meet
ing of &longs;everal Streets, a Theatre, an open
Square, &longs;erves for &longs;etting up Trophies, and pre
&longs;erving the Memory of great Events, and is &longs;o
Beautiful and Noble that it is almo&longs;t incredible
what Expence the Ancients u&longs;ed to be&longs;tow in
&longs;ingle Pillars, which they looked upon as a very
&longs;tately Ornament: For o&longs;tentimes, not being
content with making them of
midian
have them carved with Figures and Hi&longs;tories
by the mo&longs;t excellent Sculptors; and of &longs;uch
Columns as the&longs;e we are told there were above
an Hundred and Twenty in the Temple of Others made their Capi
tals and Ba&longs;es of gilt Bra&longs;s, as we may &longs;ee in
the double Portico at
in the Con&longs;ul&longs;hip of that
umphed over Some made their whole
Columns of Bra&longs;s, and others plated them all
over with Silver; but we &longs;hall not dwell upon
&longs;uch Things as tho&longs;e. Columns mu&longs;t be ex
actly round and perfectly &longs;mooth. We read
that one
of
Workhou&longs;es, wherein they hung their Columns
with &longs;o nice a Poi&longs;e, that they could be turned
about by a little Boy, and &longs;o poli&longs;hed &longs;mooth. But this is a
We &longs;hall proceed
to &longs;omething more material. In all Columns
we may con&longs;ider two long Lines in the Shaft;
one we may call the Axis of the Shaft, and the
other the Out-lines; the &longs;hort Lines that we
are to con&longs;ider are the &longs;everal Diameters of
tho&longs;e Circles which in different Places gird the
Column about; and of tho&longs;e Circles, the prin
cipal are the two Superficies; one at the Top
and the other at the Bottom of the Shaft. The
Axis of the Shaft is a Line drawn through the
very Center of the Column from the Center of
the Circle which forms the flat Superficies at
the Top, to the Center of the Circle which is
the flat Superficies at the Bottom, and this
Line may be al&longs;o called the Perpendicular in
the Middle of the Column. In this Line meet
the Centers of all the Circles. But the out Line
is one drawn from the Sweep of the Fillet at
the Top along the Surface of the Column to
PLATE 16.
1)
PLATE 17.
2)
PLATE 18.
3)
PLATE 19.
4)
PLATE 20.
terminate all the Diameters that are in the
Thickne&longs;s of the Sha&longs;t, and it does not run
&longs;trait like the Axis, but is compo&longs;ed of a great
Number of Lines, &longs;ome &longs;trait and &longs;ome curve;
as we &longs;hall &longs;hew hereafter. The &longs;everal Dia
meters of Circles which we are to con&longs;ider in
different Parts of the Column, are &longs;ive; the
Sweeps, the Diminutions, and the Swell or Belly
of the Shaft. The Sweeps are two, one at the
Top and the other at the Bottom of the Co
lumn, and are called Sweeps upon account of
their running out a little beyond the Re&longs;t of
the Shaft, The Diminutions are likewi&longs;e two,
clo&longs;e by the Sweeps at the Bottom and Top,
and are &longs;o called becau&longs;e in tho&longs;e Parts the
Shaft dimini&longs;hes inwards. The Diameter of
the Swell or Belly of the Column is to be ob
&longs;erved about the Middle of the Shaft, and is
called the Belly, becau&longs;e the Column &longs;eems to
&longs;well out ju&longs;t in that Part. Again, the Sweeps
differ from one another, for that which is at
the Bottom is formed by the Fillet and a &longs;mall
Curve running from the Fillet to the Body of
the Shaft; but the Sweep at the Top of the
Sha&longs;t, be&longs;ides this Curve and its Fillet has like
wi&longs;e the A&longs;tragal. La&longs;tly, the Out-lines mu&longs;t
be formed in the following Manner: On the
Pavement, or upon the flat Side of a Wall,
which is proper for the Drawing your De&longs;ign,
draw a &longs;trait Line, of the Length which you
intend to give the Column, which perhaps is
as yet in the Quarry. This Line we call the
Axis of the Shaft. Then divide this Axis into
a certain Number of determinate Parts, ac
cording to the Nature of the Building, and of
the various Sorts of Columns which you are to
erect, of which Variety we &longs;hall &longs;peak in due
Time; and according to a due Proportion of
the&longs;e Parts you mu&longs;t make the Diameter of the
Bottom of your Shaft, with a little Line drawn
acro&longs;s the Axis. The Diameter you divide in
to four-and-twenty Parts, one of which you
give to the Height of the Fillet, which Height
we mark upon the Wall with a &longs;mall Stroke;
then take three more of tho&longs;e Parts, and at
that Height make a Mark in the Axis of the
Shaft, which is to be the Center of the next
Diminution, and through this Center draw a
Line exactly parallel with the Diameter of the
Bottom of the Shaft, which Line mu&longs;t be the
Diameter of the lower Diminution, and be one
&longs;eventh Part &longs;horter than the Diameter of the
Bottom of the Shaft. Having marked the&longs;e
two Lines, that is to &longs;ay, the Diameter of the
Diminution, and the Fillet, draw from the
Point of the End of the Fillet to the Point of
that Diameter in the Shaft of the Column a
curve Line, as ea&longs;y and neat as po&longs;&longs;ible; the
Beginning of this curve Line mu&longs;t be one Quar
ter of a little Circle, the Semi-diameter of
which mu&longs;t be the Height of the Fillet. Then
divide the whole Length of the Shaft into &longs;even
equal Parts, and mark tho&longs;e Divi&longs;ions with lit
tle Dots. At the fourth Dot, counting from
the Bottom, make the Center of the Belly of
the Shaft, acro&longs;s which draw its Diameter,
who&longs;e Length mu&longs;t be equal to the Diameter
of the Diminution at the Bottom. The Di
minution and Sweep at the Top mu&longs;t be made
as follows: According to the Species of the
Column, of which we &longs;hall treat el&longs;ewhere,
take the Diameter of the upper Superficies from
the Diameter of the Bottom of the Shaft, and
draw it at the Top of the Column in your De
&longs;ign; which Diameter &longs;o drawn mu&longs;t be di
vided into twelve Parts, one of which Parts
mu&longs;t be allowed to the Projecture of the Fillet
and A&longs;tragal, giving two thirds of it to the
latter, and one third to the former. Then
make the Center of your Diminution, at the
Di&longs;tance of one and a half of tho&longs;e Parts from
the Center of the upper Surface of the Shaft,
and the Diameter of this Diminution a ninth
Part le&longs;s than the large&longs;t Diameter of that Sur
face. You mu&longs;t afterwards draw the Curve or
Sweep in the &longs;ame Manner as I taught you to
draw that below. La&longs;tly, having thus marked
in your De&longs;ign the Sweeps, Diminutions, and
all the other Particulars which we have here
mentioned, draw a &longs;trait Line from the Dimi
nution at the Top, and another from the Di
minution at the Bottom to the Diameter of the
Belly or Swell of the Column, and this will
make in your De&longs;ign what we called the Out
line of the Column, and by this Line you may
make a Model of Wood by which your Ma
&longs;ons may &longs;hape and fini&longs;h the Column it&longs;elf. The Superficies of the Bottom of the Shaft, if
the Column be exactly rounded, mu&longs;t make
equal Angles on all Sides with the Axis in the
Middle, and with the like Superficies at the Top
of the Shaft. The&longs;e Things I do not find com
mitted to writing by any of the Ancients, but I
have gathered them by my own Indu&longs;try and
Application from the Works of the be&longs;t Ma
&longs;ters. All that is to follow may be for the
mo&longs;t Part referred to the Proportions of the
Lines already treated of, and will be very de
lightful and of great U&longs;e, e&longs;pecially to the Im
provement of Painters.
THE
ARCHITECTURE
OF
BOOK VII. CHAP. I.
Of the ORNAMENTS of Sacred EDIFICES.
&longs;ecrated to the Gods; of the proper Region for the City, its Situation and
principal Ornaments.
We have already ob&longs;erved that all
Buildings con&longs;i&longs;t of &longs;everal Parts,
and that of the&longs;e Parts &longs;ome are
tho&longs;e wherein all Manner of Build
ings in general agree; &longs;uch as Si
tuation, Covering, and the like; and others,
tho&longs;e wherein they differ. We have already
treated of the Ornaments which belong to the
former; we are now to &longs;peak of tho&longs;e which
are proper to the latter. And this Di&longs;cour&longs;e
will be of &longs;o u&longs;eful a Nature, that even Painters,
tho&longs;e mo&longs;t accurate Searchers after every Thing
that is beautiful, will confe&longs;s, that they them
&longs;elves have ab&longs;olute Occa&longs;ion for it. As for
the Plea&longs;antne&longs;s of it, I &longs;hall only &longs;ay, that I be
lieve nobody will repent his having read it. But I mu&longs;t now de&longs;ire not to be blamed, if,
having propo&longs;ed new Ends to my&longs;elf, I begin
to handle my Subject upon fre&longs;h Principles. The Principles and Steps to any Subject are
found by the Divi&longs;ion, Intent and Con&longs;idera
tion of the Parts whereof that Subject con&longs;i&longs;ts. For as in a Statue made of Bra&longs;s, Gold and
Silver melted together, the Workman con&longs;iders
the Parts with regard to their Weight, the
Statuary with regard to their Out-lines, and
others perhaps as to other Re&longs;pects; &longs;o, as we
have ob&longs;erved before, the Parts of Architecture
ought to be divided in &longs;uch a Manner, that our
Con&longs;iderations upon each of them may be as
clear and di&longs;tinct as po&longs;&longs;ible. We &longs;hall now
therefore proceed upon that Divi&longs;ion which
regards the Beauty and Ornament of Buildings,
more than either their Conveniency or Strength. Though indeed all the&longs;e Qualifications have
&longs;uch a mutual Agreement with one another,
that where any one of them is wanting, the
others al&longs;o lo&longs;e their Commendation. All
Buildings therefore are either publick or pri
vate; and both publick and private, are either
&longs;acred or profane. We &longs;hall fir&longs;t treat of pub
lick Edifices. The Ancients u&longs;ed to found the
Walls of their Cities with the greate&longs;t Religion,
dedicating them to &longs;ome God who was to be
their Guardian: Nor did they think that it
was po&longs;&longs;ible for the publick Weal to be &longs;o per
fectly &longs;ecured by the Prudence of any Man
what&longs;oever, but that it might be endangered
were concerned with it; and they were of Opi
nion that a City, either through the Negli
gence of its own People, or the Envy of its
Neighbours, was continually expo&longs;ed to Dangers
and Accidents; ju&longs;t as a Ship is which is to&longs;&longs;ed
on the Sea. And upon this Account I &longs;uppo&longs;e,
they fabled that
man Affairs, appointed Semi-Gods and Heroes
to be Guardians over Cities and to protect them
by their Wi&longs;dom; &longs;ince indeed we are not to
tru&longs;t wholly to Walls for our Defence, but
&longs;tand in need be&longs;ides of the Favour of Heaven. And the Rea&longs;on they gave for
ing was this, that as we do not &longs;et one of the
Bea&longs;ts them&longs;elves to take Care of a Flock or
Herd, but a Shepherd; &longs;o it was rea&longs;onable
that the Guardians appointed over Men, &longs;hould
be &longs;ome other Kind of Beings of &longs;uperior Wi&longs;
dom and greater Virtue than common Men;
and therefore they dedicated their Walls to the
Gods. Others &longs;ay, that it is &longs;o ordered by the
Providence of the great and good God, that as
the Minds of Men have their fatal
have Cities al&longs;o. It is no Wonder therefore
that the Walls within which the Citizens were
to be a&longs;&longs;ociated and defended, were accounted
holy; and that the Ancients, whenever they
were about to lay Siege to any Town, le&longs;t they
&longs;hould &longs;eem to offer any In&longs;ult to Religion,
u&longs;ed to invoke, and with &longs;acred Hymns en
deavoured to appea&longs;e the Gods that were
Guardians of the Place, be&longs;eeching them to
pa&longs;s willingly over to them. As for the Tem
ple, who can doubt that to be &longs;acred, as well
for other Rea&longs;ons, as chiefly becau&longs;e we there
pay the due Reverence and Honour to God
for tho&longs;e infinite Obligations which Mankind
has towards him? Piety is one of the Princi
pal Parts of Ju&longs;tice, and who can doubt that
Ju&longs;tice is a Pre&longs;ent from Heaven? Another
Part of Ju&longs;tice which has a very near Relation
to the preceding, and is of the greate&longs;t Excel
lence and Dignity, and extremely grateful to
the divine Being, and con&longs;equently highly
&longs;acred, it is that which is di&longs;pen&longs;ed between
Man and Man for the Maintenance of Peace
and Tranquillity, and giving to every one his
due De&longs;erts: For this Rea&longs;on the Places &longs;et
apart for the Admini&longs;tration of Ju&longs;tice, &longs;hould
always be looked upon as &longs;acred to Religion. What &longs;hall we &longs;ay of the Monuments of great
Actions and Events which are dedicated to
Eternity, and left to future Ages? Surely we
may venture to affirm, that all the&longs;e have &longs;ome
Relation to Ju&longs;tice and Religion. We are
now therefore to treat of the Walls, Temples,
Places for the Admini&longs;tration of Ju&longs;tice, and
Monuments of great Events; unle&longs;s it may be
fir&longs;t thought nece&longs;&longs;ary to &longs;et down &longs;ome Ob
&longs;ervations concerning Cities in general, which
ought not to be omitted. A large Number of
Edifices well di&longs;tributed, and di&longs;po&longs;ed in their
proper Places, cannot fail of giving a City a
great Air of Magnificence.
viding the whole Area of a City into twelve
Parts, allotting to each its particular Temples
and Chapels, To the&longs;e I would add particu
lar Courts of Judicature for each Di&longs;trict, to
gether with Places for other inferior Magi
&longs;trates, Fortre&longs;&longs;es, Spaces for publick Races,
Exerci&longs;es and Games, and every Thing el&longs;e of
this Nature, provided there be a &longs;ufficient
Number of Hou&longs;es to be allotted to every Di&longs;
trict: For of Cities, &longs;ome are large, others
&longs;mall; &longs;uch as are generally fortified Towns,
and Places de&longs;igned chiefly for Strength. The
ancient Writers were of Opinion that the Cities
which &longs;tood in Plains were not very ancient,
and therefore could not pretend to much Au
thority; believing that &longs;uch could not be built
till long after the Deluge. But, indeed, Cities
in large open Plains, and Ca&longs;tles in Places of
&longs;teep and difficult Acce&longs;s, are be&longs;t &longs;ituated
both for Plea&longs;ure and Convenience: But &longs;till
in each of the&longs;e I would always have this Dif
ference, that the Town which &longs;tands in a Plain
&longs;hould ri&longs;e upon a gentle Slope, for the Re
moval of Dirt and Filth; and that which is on
a Hill, &longs;hould be built upon a level and even
Area, for the greater Beauty of the Streets and
Buildings.
was preferable to
upon Hills, nor was broken by Vallies, but lay
open and level.
pleating the Town he had begun to build in
the I&longs;land of
of great Strength and many Conveniences, be
cau&longs;e he found it would not have Room enough
to enlarge it&longs;elf, as in all Probability it would
have Occa&longs;ion to do. Nor &longs;hould we omit to
take Notice here, that the greate&longs;t Ornament
of a City is the Multitude of her Citizens. We
read that
Riche&longs;t and mo&longs;t Honourable of his Subjects,
to remove thither with all their Wealth to in
habit it, publi&longs;hing an Edict, that whatever
Effects they did not carry with them, but left
el&longs;ewhere, &longs;hould be forfeited to the publick But this is no more than what the
Neighbours all around, and other Strangers,
will do willingly and of their own Accord, to
a Place where they know they can live with
Health, Plea&longs;ure and Plenty, and among a
People of a fair and regular Behaviour. But
the principal Ornament of the City will ari&longs;e
&longs;rom the Di&longs;po&longs;ition of the Streets, Squares and
publick Edifices, and their being all laid out
and contrived beautifully and conveniently, ac
cording to their &longs;everal U&longs;es; for without Or
der, there can be nothing Hand&longs;ome, Conve
nient or Plea&longs;ing. In a well regulated City,
vent the introducing of any foreign Delicacies
or Corruptions; and, in order thereto &longs;hould
&longs;uffer no Citizen to travel till full forty Years
of Age; and that &longs;uch Strangers as &longs;hould be
admitted into the City, in order to pro&longs;ecute
their Studies, when they had &longs;ufficiently im
proved them&longs;elves, &longs;hould be &longs;ent Home again
to their own Country. And this is nece&longs;&longs;ary,
becau&longs;e the Citizens, from the Contagion of
Foreigners, are apt to fall off daily more and
more from that Par&longs;imony wherein they were
educated by their Ance&longs;tors, and to de&longs;pi&longs;e
their own old Cu&longs;toms and U&longs;ages; which is
the chief Rea&longs;on that Cities grow &longs;o univer
&longs;ally corrupted.
People of
zens grew vicious by their Intercour&longs;e with the
Manners is always the Occa&longs;ion of continual
Innovations; in order to prevent it, elected one
Citizen yearly out of their Number, who was
always to be a Man of Gravity and Circum
&longs;pection, who &longs;hould go among the
and provide and bring them all &longs;uch Things as
any of the&longs;e Citizens gave him Commi&longs;&longs;ion to
procure them. In a Word, all the wi&longs;e&longs;t Men
are agreed in this, that the greate&longs;t Care and
Precaution ought to be u&longs;ed to keep the City
from being corrupted by the Intercour&longs;e of
Strangers who come to it. Not that I am for imi
tating tho&longs;e who are again&longs;t granting Admi&longs;&longs;ion
to any Strangers what&longs;oever. Among the
it was the ancient Cu&longs;tom never to receive any
People that were not in League with them,
though not in Enmity neither, if they had Oc
ca&longs;ion to pa&longs;s through their Country in Arms:
Neither would they drive them away; but
they u&longs;ed to appoint a Market for all Nece&longs;&longs;a
ries at &longs;ome little Di&longs;tance without the Walls,
where the Strangers might refre&longs;h them&longs;elves
with whatever Conveniencies they wanted, and
the Citizens might not be expo&longs;ed to any
Danger. But I, for my Part, am be&longs;t plea&longs;ed
with the
permitted Strangers to come among them,
would not &longs;uffer them to have every Thing
in common with their own Citizens. The
Streets which led to the Market or publick
Place were open to all Strangers; but the more
private Parts of the City, &longs;uch as the Ar&longs;enal,
and the like, they were not allowed &longs;o much
as to &longs;ee. In&longs;tructed therefore by the&longs;e Ex
amples, let us lay out the Platform of our City
in &longs;uch a Manner, that not only Strangers may
have their Habitations &longs;eparate, convenient for
them, and not inconvenient to the Citizens;
but al&longs;o that the Citizens them&longs;elves may con
ver&longs;e, negociate and dwell together commo
diou&longs;ly and honourably, according to their &longs;e
veral Ranks and Occa&longs;ions. It will add much
to the Beauty of the City, if the Shops for par
ticular Trades &longs;tand in particular Streets and
Di&longs;tricts in the mo&longs;t convenient Parts of the
Town. Gold&longs;miths, Silver&longs;miths and Painters
may have their Shops in the publick Place, and
&longs;o may the Sellers of Drugs, of Habits, and
other creditable Trades; but all na&longs;ty, &longs;tink
ing Occupations &longs;hould be removed out of the
Way, e&longs;pecially the offen&longs;ive Smells of Tan
ners, which &longs;hould be &longs;et by them&longs;elves and
towards the North, becau&longs;e the Winds &longs;eldom
blow into the City from that Corner; or, if
they do, they blow &longs;o &longs;trong that they rather
fly than pa&longs;s over it. There may perhaps be
&longs;ome who would like better to have the Ha
bitations of the Gentry &longs;eparate by them&longs;elves,
quite clear and free from all Mixture with the
meaner Sort of People. Others are for having
every Di&longs;trict of the City &longs;o laid out, that each
Part might be &longs;upplied at Hand with every
Thing that it could have Occa&longs;ion for, and for
this Rea&longs;on they are not again&longs;t having the
meane&longs;t Trades in the Neighbourhood of the
mo&longs;t honourable Citizens. But of this Sub
ject we have &longs;aid enough. Conveniency is one
Thing, and Dignity another. Let us now
return.
CHAP. II.
were the fir&longs;t that erected Temples.
The Ancients, and particularly the
trurians,
Stones, and the Large&longs;t that could be got. The
tocles, There
are &longs;ome very ancient Ca&longs;tles &longs;till to be &longs;een in
near
wrought Stone; which Sort of Work plea&longs;es
me extremely, becau&longs;e it gives the Building a
rugged Air of the antique Severity, which is a
very great Ornament to a Town. I would
have the Walls of a City built in &longs;uch a Man
ner, that the Enemy at the bare Sight of them
may be &longs;truck with Terror, and be &longs;ent away
with a Di&longs;tru&longs;t of his own Forces. There is
a good deal of Maje&longs;ty too in very broad deep
Ditches clo&longs;e to the Foot of the Wall, with
very &longs;teep Sides, like tho&longs;e which we are told
were at
broad and above an hundred deep. There is
al&longs;o much Maje&longs;ty in the Height and Thick
ne&longs;s of the Walls them&longs;elves, &longs;uch as we are
told were built by
granes,
inclined to Magnificence. In the Towers and
Corridors of the Walls of
Pavements of
tated with the hand&longs;ome&longs;t Materials; but all
Ornaments are not &longs;uitable to all Cities alike. Delicate Cornices and Incru&longs;tations are not &longs;o
proper for the Walls of a Town; but in&longs;tead of
a Cornice let there be a projecting Row of long
Stones, &longs;omewhat more regularly wrought than
the Re&longs;t, and &longs;et by the Level and Plum-line;
and in&longs;tead of Incru&longs;tations, tho' I would have
the Front pre&longs;erve its rugged and threatning
A&longs;pect, yet I would have the Stones &longs;o well fit
ted to one another, that there may be no
Cracks in the Building. The be&longs;t Way to fit
&longs;uch Stones together is by Means of the
Rule; like which
Laws ought to be made; for it was of Lead
and pliable; becau&longs;e having very hard Stones
and difficult to be wrought, for the &longs;aving of
Expence and Labour, they did not take the
Pains to &longs;quare them, but &longs;et them in the Wall
without any certain Order and where-ever they
would fit in; and finding it an endle&longs;s Task
to remove them from Place to Place till they
could fit them in exactly, they invented this
Rule which would bend any Way, which they
moulded to the Sides and Corners of the Stone
which they had already &longs;et, and to which they
were to fit the next, and made u&longs;e of the Rule
thus moulded for chu&longs;ing out &longs;uch Stones as
would fit the Vacancies they were to fill up,
and an&longs;wer be&longs;t to the Stones which they had
already &longs;et in the Wall. Moreover, for a &longs;till
greater Addition of Reverence and Dignity, I
would have a very hand&longs;ome open Space left
both within and without the Walls, and dedi
cated to the publick Liberty; which &longs;hould
not be cumbered up by any Per&longs;on what&longs;oever,
either with Trench, Wall, Hedge, or Shrub,
under very great Penalties. Let us now pro
ceed to the Temple. The fir&longs;t Builders of
Temples I find to have been in
their Sacrifices, u&longs;ed always to begin with a
Prayer to Some were of Opinion that
ples, and upon that Account thought him the
fir&longs;t God to be adored. They &longs;ay that in
nicia, U&longs;o
built Temples to Fire and Wind. Others tell
us that
in his Pa&longs;&longs;age through
in all that Region, after he had built Towns
there, al&longs;o erected Temples and e&longs;tabli&longs;hed re
ligious Rites. Others &longs;ay that in
crops
Godde&longs;s
built one to Some write that
who was al&longs;o called the Law-giver, becau&longs;e &longs;he
was the fir&longs;t Deity that commanded Men to
live according to her Laws, was al&longs;o the fir&longs;t
that rai&longs;ed a Temple to
Progenitors, and appointed Prie&longs;ts to attend their
Wor&longs;hip. But what Manner of Temples any
of the&longs;e were, is not &longs;o well known. I am
very much inclined to believe they were like
that which was in the Citadel of
that in the Capitol at
and Reeds, the
cient Par&longs;imony of their Forefathers. But when
the great Wealth of their Kings and of many
of their Citizens brought them to think of ho
nouring them&longs;elves and their City by the State
line&longs;s of their Edifices, they looked upon it to
be a Shame that the Habitations of the Gods
&longs;hould not be made hand&longs;omer than the Hou&longs;es
of Men; and this Humour in a &longs;hort Time
made &longs;o great a Progre&longs;s, that only in the
Foundation of one &longs;ingle Temple, while the
City was yet extremely frugal, King
laid out four thou&longs;and Pounds Weight of Sil
ver: And I highly commend that Prince for
this Act of Genero&longs;ity, as it was done out of
Regard to the Dignity of the City, and to the
Reverence which is due to the Gods, to whom
we owe all Things: Though it has been the
Opinion of &longs;ome, who have had the Reputati
on of Wi&longs;dom, that it is very improper to de
dicate or build any Temples at all to the Gods,
and we are told, that it was in this Per&longs;ua&longs;ion
that
thinking it an impious Thing to &longs;hut up the
Gods between Walls, to whom all Things
ought to be open, and to whom the whole
World ought to &longs;erve as a Temple. But let
us return to our Subject.
CHAP. III.
our Temples; to what Gods and in what Places we &longs;hould build them, and
of the various Kinds of Sacrifices.
In the whole Compa&longs;s of the Art of Build
ing, there is nothing in which we ought to
employ more Thought, Care and Diligence
than in the laying out and adorning a Tem
ple; becau&longs;e, not to mention that a Temple
well built and hand&longs;omely adorned is the great
e&longs;t and noble&longs;t Ornament a City can have; it
is moreover the Habitation of the Gods: And
if we adorn and beautify the Hou&longs;e where a
King or any great Man is to dwell, with all the
Art we are Ma&longs;ters of, what ought we to do
to tho&longs;e of the immortal Gods? Whom we
expect, when invoked, to be pre&longs;ent at our Sa
crifices, and to give Ear to our Prayers. And
though the Gods may de&longs;pi&longs;e tho&longs;e peri&longs;hable
Things which we mo&longs;t highly value; yet Men
are moved by the Purity of beautiful Materials,
and rai&longs;ed by them to Reverence and Devoti
on for the Deity to which they are &longs;acred. It
is certain that Temples may be of great U&longs;e
for &longs;tirring up Men to Piety, by filling their
Minds with Delight, and Entertaining them
with Admiration of their Beauty. The An
cients were wont to &longs;ay, that Piety was ho
noured when the Temples were frequented. For this Rea&longs;on I would have the Temple
made &longs;o beautiful, that the Imagination &longs;hould
not be able to form an Idea of any Place more
&longs;o; and I would have every Part &longs;o contrived
and adorned, as to fill the Beholders with Awe
and Amazement, at the Con&longs;ideration of &longs;o
many noble and excellent Things, and almo&longs;t
force them to cry out with A&longs;toni&longs;hment:
This Place is certainly worthy of God!
&longs;ays, that the
large, that they were not able to make a Roof
to cover it; which I do not approve. The
in the World. I am not again&longs;t building them
&longs;uch, that it &longs;hould be very hard to make any
Addition to them. Ornaments are in a Man
ner infinite, and even in &longs;mall Temples there is
always &longs;omething which we imagine might
and ought to be added. I would have the
Temple as large as the Bigne&longs;s of the City re
quires, but not unmea&longs;urably huge. What I
&longs;hould chiefly de&longs;ire in a Temple, would be
this, that every Thing which you behold &longs;hould
be &longs;uch; that you &longs;hould be at a Stand which
mo&longs;t to commend, the Genius and Skill of the
Workmen, or the Zeal and Genero&longs;ity of the
Citizens in procuring and dedicating &longs;uch rare
and beautiful Materials to this Service; and
be doubtful whether tho&longs;e very Materials con
duce mo&longs;t to Beauty and Stateline&longs;s, or to Du
ration, which, as in all other Buildings both
publick and private, &longs;o chiefly in the Structure
of Temples, ought to be very carefully con
&longs;ulted; in as much as it is in the highe&longs;t De
gree rea&longs;onable that &longs;uch a great Expence
&longs;hould be well &longs;ecured from being lo&longs;t by means
of any Accidents, be&longs;ides that Antiquity gives
to any Structure of this Nature. The Anci
ents, who had their In&longs;tructions from the
not proper for the Temples of different Gods:
The Temples to the Gods that pre&longs;ided over
Peace, Mode&longs;ty and good Arts, they judged
fit to be placed within the Compa&longs;s of the
Walls; but tho&longs;e Deities that were the Guar
dians of Plea&longs;ures, Feuds and Combu&longs;tions,
&longs;uch as
&longs;omewhere without the City.
and
of Cities, they &longs;eated in the Heart of the
Town, or in the Citadel;
of working Trades, and
Merchants &longs;acrificed in the Month of
and
the Summit of the highe&longs;t Hills; the Temple
of
nece&longs;&longs;ary to the Sick, was Water. In other
Countries
place the Temple of this God out of the City,
for the Sake of the Goodne&longs;s of the Air. Fur
ther, they imagined that the Temples of vari
ous Gods ought to be built in various Forms. The Temple of the
thought &longs;hould be round; and
that of
Top, becau&longs;e it was that God who opened the
Seeds of all Things. The Temple of the God
de&longs;s
built as round as a Ball: Tho&longs;e of the other
cele&longs;tial Gods they rai&longs;ed &longs;omewhat above the
Ground; tho&longs;e of the infernal Gods they built
under Ground, and tho&longs;e of the terre&longs;trial
they &longs;et upon the Level. If I am not mi&longs;taken
too, their various Sorts of Sacrifices made them
invent different Sorts of Temples: For &longs;ome
wa&longs;hed their Altars with Blood, others &longs;acrificed
with Wine and a Cake; others were daily
practi&longs;ing new Rites.
Law among the
be &longs;prinkled upon a funeral Pile; for which
Rea&longs;on the Ancients u&longs;ed to perform their Li
bations not with Wine but Milk. In the
perborean
was fabled to be born, the Metropolis was con
&longs;ecrated to
ing u&longs;ed con&longs;tantly every Day to &longs;ing the
Prai&longs;es of their Gods, were all good Ma&longs;ters of
Mu&longs;ick. I find in
the People of the I&longs;thmus, or the
to &longs;acrifice an Ant to the Sun and to
It was not lawful for the
their Gods by any Thing but Prayers within
their City; wherefore, that they might &longs;acri
fice Sheep to
their Temples out of the Town. But our
Countrymen by Degrees got into a Way of
making u&longs;e of Ba&longs;iliques or Palaces for their
Places of Wor&longs;hip; which was occa&longs;ioned by
their being accu&longs;tomed from the Beginning to
meet and get together in the Palaces of private
Per&longs;ons; be&longs;ides, that the Altar had a very
great Air of Dignity when &longs;et in the Place of
the Tribunal, as had al&longs;o the Choir when di&longs;
po&longs;ed about the Altar. The other Parts of the
Structure, &longs;uch as the Nave and the Portico,
&longs;erved the People either to walk about in, or
to attend the religious Ceremonies. Add to
this, that the Voice of the Pontiff, when he
preached, might be more di&longs;tinctly heard in a
Ba&longs;ilique cieled with a Timber, than in a Tem
ple with a vaulted Roof: But of the&longs;e Things
we &longs;hall treat in another Place. It may not
be ami&longs;s to take Notice here of what the An
cients tell us, that the Temples dedicated to
more tender Godde&longs;&longs;es, ought in their Struc
ture to imitate that Virgin's Delicacy and &longs;mil
ing Gaiety of Youth, which is proper to them;
but that
Deities &longs;hould have Temples which &longs;hould ra
ther fill the Beholders with Awe by their Gra
vity, than with Plea&longs;ure by their Beauty. La&longs;t
ly, the Place where you intend to fix a Tem
ple, ought to be noted, famous, and indeed
&longs;tately, clear from all Contagion of &longs;ecular
Things, and, in order thereunto, it &longs;hould have
a &longs;pacious hand&longs;ome Area in its Front, and be
&longs;urrounded on every Side with great Streets, or
rather with noble Squares, that you may have
a beautiful View of it on every Side.
CHAP. IV.
latter &longs;hould be di&longs;tributed.
The Parts of the Temple are two; the
Portico and the In&longs;ide: But they differ
very much from one another in both the&longs;e Re
&longs;pects; for &longs;ome Temples are round, &longs;ome
&longs;quare, and others, la&longs;tly, have many Sides. It
is manife&longs;t that Nature delights principally in
round Figures, &longs;ince we find that mo&longs;t Things
which are generated, made or directed by Na
ture, are round. Why need I in&longs;tance in the
Stars, Trees, Animals, the Ne&longs;ts of Birds, or
the like Parts of the Creation, which &longs;he has
cho&longs;en to make generally round? We find too
that Nature is &longs;ometimes delighted with Figures
of &longs;ix Sides; for Bees, Hornets, and all other
Kinds of Wa&longs;ps have learnt no other Figure
for building their Cells in their Hives, but the
Hexagon. The Area for a round Temple
&longs;hould be marked out exactly circular. The
Ancients, in almo&longs;t all their quadrangular
Temples made the Platform half as long again
as it was broad. Some made it only a third
Part of the Breadth longer; and others would
have it full thrice the Breadth long. But in
all the&longs;e quadrangular Platforms the greate&longs;t
Blemi&longs;h is for the Corners to be not exactly
rectangular. The Polygons u&longs;ed by the An
cients were either of &longs;ix, eight, or &longs;ometimes
ten Sides. The Angles of &longs;uch Platforms
&longs;hould all terminate within a Circle, and indeed
from a Circle is the be&longs;t Way of deducing
them; for the Semidiameter of the Circle will
make one of the &longs;ix Sides which can be con
tained in that Circle. And if from the Cen
ter you draw Right-lines to cut each of tho&longs;e
&longs;ix Sides exactly in the Middle, you will plainly
&longs;ee what Method you are to take to draw a
Platform of twelve Sides, and from that of
twelve Sides you may make one of four, or
eight, as in Fig. However here is an
other ea&longs;ier Way of drawing a Platform of eight
Sides. Having drawn an equilateral and right
angled Square together with its Diagonals from
Corner to Corner; from the Point where tho&longs;e
Diagonals inter&longs;ect each other in the Middle, I
turn a Circle, opening the Compa&longs;&longs;es &longs;o wide
as to take in all the Sides of the Square; then
I divide one of tho&longs;e Sides into two equal Parts,
and through the Point of that Divi&longs;ion draw a
Line from the Center to the Circumference of
the Circle
that Line touches the Circumference to the
Angle of the Square, will be exactly one of the
eight Sides which that Circle will contain. We may al&longs;o draw a Platform of ten Sides by
means of a Circle, in the following Manner:
Draw two Diameters in the Circle, inter&longs;ecting
each other at Right-angles, and then divide
the Half of either of tho&longs;e Diameters into two
equal Parts, and from that Divi&longs;ion draw a
&longs;traight Line upwards a&longs;lant to the Head of
the other Diameter; and if from this &longs;lant
Line you take off the Quantity of the fourth
Part of one of the Diameters, the Remainder of
that Line will be one of the ten Sides which
can be contained in that Circle, as you may
&longs;ee in Letter To Temples it is u&longs;ual to
joyn Chapels; to &longs;ome, more; to others fewer. In quadrangular Temples it is very unu&longs;ual to
make above one, and that is placed at the
Head, &longs;o as to be &longs;een immediately by tho&longs;e
that come in at the Door. If you have a Mind
to make more Chapels on the Sides, they will
not be ami&longs;s in tho&longs;e quadrangular Temples
which are twice as long as broad; and there
we &longs;hould not make more than one in each
Side: Though if you do make more, it will
be better to make an odd Number on each Side
than an even one. In round Platforms, and
al&longs;o in tho&longs;e of many Faces (if we may ven
ture &longs;o to call them) we may very conveniently
make a greater Number of Chapels, according
to the Number of tho&longs;e Faces, one to each, or one
with and one without alternately, an&longs;wering to
each other. In round Platforms &longs;ix Chapels,
or even eight will do extremely well. In Plat
forms of &longs;everal Faces you mu&longs;t be &longs;ure to let
the Corners be exactly an&longs;wering and &longs;uiting
to one another. The Chapels them&longs;elves mu&longs;t
be made either Parts of a rectangled Square, or
of a Circle. For the &longs;ingle Chapel at the Head
of a Temple, the &longs;emicircular Form is much
the hand&longs;ome&longs;t; and next to that is the rect
angular. But if you are to make a good Num
ber of Chapels, it will certainly be much more
PLATE 21.
PLATE 22.
&longs;quare and Part round alternately, and an&longs;wer
ing one to the other. For the Aperture of
the&longs;e Chapels ob&longs;erve the following Rule. When you are to make a &longs;ingle Chapel in a
quadrangular Temple, divide the Breadth of
the Temple into four Parts, and give two of
tho&longs;e Parts to the Breadth of the Chapel. If
you have a Mind to have it more &longs;pacious, di
vide that Breadth into &longs;ix Parts, and give four
of them to the Breadth of your Chapel. And
thus the Ornaments and Columns which you
are to add to them, the Windows, and the like,
may be hand&longs;omely fitted in their proper
Places. If you are to make a Number of
Chapels about a round Platform, you may, if
you plea&longs;e, make them all of the &longs;ame Size
with the principal one; but to give that the
greater Air of Dignity, I &longs;hould rather chu&longs;e
to have it a twelfth Part bigger than the re&longs;t. There is al&longs;o this other Difference in quadran
gular Temples, that if the principal Chapel is
made of equal Lines, that is to &longs;ay, in an exact
Square, it may not be ami&longs;s; but the other
Chapels ought to be twice as broad as they are
deep. The Solid of the Walls, or tho&longs;e Ribs
of the Building which in Temples &longs;eparate one
Chapel from the other, &longs;hould never have le&longs;s
Thickne&longs;s than the fifth Part of the Break
which is left between them, nor more than the
third; or, if you would have them extremely
&longs;trong, the half. But in round Platforms, if
the Chapels are in Number &longs;ix, let the Solid or
Rib which is left between each Chapel, be one
half of the Break; and if there be eight of
tho&longs;e Chapels, let the &longs;olid Wall between them,
e&longs;pecially in great Temples, be as thick as the
whole Break for the Chapel: But if the Plat
form con&longs;i&longs;t of a great Number of Angles, let
the Solid always be one third of the Break. In
&longs;ome Temples, according to the Cu&longs;tom of the
ancient
the Sides not with Chapels, but with a &longs;mall
Sort of I&longs;les, in the following Manner: They
cho&longs;e a Platform, which was one &longs;ixth Part
longer than it was broad: Of this Length they
a&longs;&longs;igned two of tho&longs;e &longs;ix Parts to the Depth of
the Portico, which was to &longs;erve as a Ve&longs;tibule
to the Temple; the re&longs;t they divided into three
Parts, which they gave to the three Breadths of
the &longs;ide I&longs;les. Again, they divided the Breadth
of the Temple into ten Parts, three of which
they a&longs;&longs;igned to the little I&longs;les on the right
Hand, and as many to tho&longs;e on the left, and
the other four they gave to the Area in the
Middle. At the Head of the Temple, and &longs;o
fronting the Middle of each &longs;ide I&longs;le, they pla
ced Chapels, and the Walls which &longs;eparated
the &longs;everal I&longs;les they made in Thickne&longs;s one
fifth Part of the Inter&longs;pace.
CHAP. V.
and Inter&longs;paces of the Portico.
Hitherto we have &longs;poken of the
Platform for the In&longs;ide. The Portico
to a quadrangular Temple may be either only
in Front, or on the Back of the Structure, or
el&longs;e both in the Front and the back Part at the
&longs;ame Time, or, la&longs;tly, it may run quite round
the Fabrick. Where-ever any Chapel projects
out, there &longs;hould be no Portico. The Portico
&longs;hould never be &longs;horter, in quadrangular Tem
ples, than the full Breadth of the Temple;
and never broader than the third Part of its
Length. In tho&longs;e Porticoes which run along
the Sides of the Temple, let the Columns be
&longs;et as far from the Wall as they &longs;tand from one
another. The back Portico may imitate which
you plea&longs;e of the afore-mentioned. Circular
Temples have either a Portico quite round
them, or el&longs;e have only one Portico, which
mu&longs;t be in Front. In both, the &longs;ame Propor
tions mu&longs;t be ob&longs;erved as in tho&longs;e to quadran
gular Platforms; nor indeed mu&longs;t &longs;uch Porti
coes be ever made other than quadrangular. As to their Length, it mu&longs;t either be equal to
the whole Breadth of the In&longs;ide of the Plat
form, or an eighth Part le&longs;s, or at the mo&longs;t a
fourth Part, which is the &longs;horte&longs;t that is ever
allowed. The
cient Laws of their Forefathers, were to have
one &longs;acred and chief City in a fit and conve
nient Place, and therein one &longs;ingle Temple and
one Altar built of Stones, not hewn by Men's
Hands, but ju&longs;t &longs;uch as they could find, pro
vided they were white and clean; and there
was to be no Steps to a&longs;cend to this Temple;
ing in the Wor&longs;hip of one God, by whom
alone they were defended and pre&longs;erved. Now
I cannot approve of either of the&longs;e Particulars:
For as to the Fir&longs;t, it mu&longs;t be extremely in
convenient to the People, and e&longs;pecially to
tho&longs;e who frequent the Temples mo&longs;t, as the
old Folks and the Infirm; and the Second mu&longs;t
take very much from the Maje&longs;ty of the Struc
ture. As to what I have ob&longs;erved in &longs;ome
&longs;acred Edifices, built not long before our Time,
to which you a&longs;cend by a few Steps on the
Out&longs;ide, and afterwards have as many to go
down again within, I will not ab&longs;olutely call it
ridiculous; but why they &longs;hould contrive it in
this Manner, I cannot imagine. Indeed I would
have the Plain of the Portico, and &longs;o of the
whole Temple, &longs;omewhat rai&longs;ed above the Le
vel of the re&longs;t of the Town, which gives the
Fabrick a great Air of Dignity. But as in an
Animal, the Head, the Feet, and every parti
cular Member, &longs;hould be exactly proportioned
to all the other Members, and to all the re&longs;t
of the Body; &longs;o in a Building, and e&longs;pecially
in a Temple, all the Parts &longs;hould be made to
corre&longs;pond &longs;o exactly, that let us con&longs;ider which
of them we plea&longs;e, it may bear its ju&longs;t Propor
tion to all the Re&longs;t. Thus I find that mo&longs;t
of the be&longs;t ancient Architects u&longs;ed to take their
Elevation of the Plain of their Temple, from
the Breadth of the Temple it&longs;elf, which they
divided into &longs;ix Parts, giving one of tho&longs;e
Parts to the Height of the Plain or Mound of
the Structure. Others, in larger Temples, rai&longs;
ed it only a &longs;eventh Part, and in the Bigge&longs;t of
all, only a ninth. The Portico, by its Nature,
&longs;hould have a continued Wall but of one Side,
and all the other Sides &longs;hould be full of large
Apertures for Pa&longs;&longs;age. Your Bu&longs;ine&longs;s there
fore is to con&longs;ider what Kind of Apertures you
would make u&longs;e of; for Colonades are of two
Sorts; one where the Columns &longs;tand wide and
at a great Di&longs;tance from each other; and the
other, where they &longs;tand clo&longs;e and thick. And
neither of the&longs;e Sorts is without its Inconveni
encies; for in the wide Sort, the Apertures are
&longs;o large, that if you would make u&longs;e of an
Architrave, it is apt to break in the Middle,
and if you would carry Arches over it, it is no
ea&longs;y Matter to turn them upon the Heads of
the Columns. Where the Columns &longs;tand clo&longs;e
and thick, they intercept the View, the Light
and the Pa&longs;&longs;age, and upon this Account, a
third Manner has been found out, in a Medium
between the other two, which is called Elegant,
and avoids the Defects of the others; is more
convenient and much more approved. And
with the&longs;e three Sorts we might have been con
tented; but the Diligence of Architects have
added two other Sorts, which I &longs;uppo&longs;e may
be accounted for as follows: Not having a
&longs;ufficient Number of Columns for the Exten
&longs;ivene&longs;s of their Area, they deviated &longs;omewhat
from the laudable Medium, and imitated the
wider Apertures; and when they happen to
have Plenty of Columns, they were fond of
&longs;etting them clo&longs;er together; whence aro&longs;e five
Sorts of Intercolumniations, which we may call
by the Names of Wide, Clo&longs;e, Elegant, Le&longs;s
wide, Le&longs;s-clo&longs;e. I further &longs;uppo&longs;e it to have
happened, that the Architects being &longs;ometimes
de&longs;titute of long Stones, were obliged to make
their Columns &longs;horter, knowing that this
would take much from the Beauty of the
Structure, they &longs;et a Plinth under their Columns,
in order to give them their ju&longs;t Height; for
they found by a careful View and Examinati
on of other Buildings, that Columns had no
Grace in a Portico, unle&longs;s a right Proportion
was ob&longs;erved both in their Height and Thick
ne&longs;s. This induced them to lay down the fol
lowing Rules for this Purpo&longs;e. The Interco
lumniation may be unequal; but the Columns
them&longs;elves mu&longs;t always be exactly equal. Let
the Apertures that an&longs;wers to the Door be &longs;ome
what wider than the re&longs;t. Where the Inter
columniation is clo&longs;e, make u&longs;e of thinner Co
lumns; where it is wide, make u&longs;e of thicker;
thus always proportioning the Thickne&longs;s of the
Colums to the Inter&longs;paces, and the Inter&longs;paces
to the Thickne&longs;s of the Columns, which you
may do by the following Rules. In the clo&longs;e&longs;t
Sort of Colonades, let the Intercolumniation be
never narrower than one Diameter and a Half
of the Column; and in the wide&longs;t, let it be
never broader than three Diameters and three
eighths. In the elegant Sort of Colonades you
may allow two Diameters and a Quarter, in the
Le&longs;s-clo&longs;e, two; in the Le&longs;s-wide, three. The
middle Inter&longs;pace in the Colonade &longs;hould be
&longs;omewhat wider than the re&longs;t, and the Ancients
direct us to give it an Addition of one fourth
Part: But by an Examination of old Buildings,
I find that this middle Inter&longs;pace was not al
ways made according to this Rule; for in the
wide Colonades, no good Architect ever made
it a fourth Part wider, but only about a
twelfth; and herein they acted very prudently,
le&longs;t an unfaithful Architrave &longs;hould not be able
to bear even the Weight of its own Length, Others indeed, in
other Colonades, have allowed a &longs;ixth Part;
but mo&longs;t have made it only a twelfth, e&longs;pecial
ly in tho&longs;e Colonades which we have called
Elegant.
CHAP. VI.
When we have re&longs;olved upon our In
tercolumniation, we are to erect our
Columns which are to &longs;upport the Roof or
Covering. But we are to make a great Dif
ference between a Work that con&longs;i&longs;ts of Pila&longs;
ters, and one that con&longs;i&longs;ts of Columns, and
between covering them with Arches, or with
Architraves. Arches and Pila&longs;ters are very
proper in Theatres, and Arches are not ami&longs;s
in Ba&longs;iliques; but in the nobler Temples, we
never &longs;ee any Porticoes without Architraves. Of the&longs;e Things we are now to treat.
The
Parts of the Column are the&longs;e: The lower
Plinth, upon that the Ba&longs;e, upon the Ba&longs;e the
Column, then the Capital, next to that the
Architrave, after which comes the Freeze,
where the Ends of the Rafters either terminate
or are concealed, and over all is the Cornice. I think it will be proper to begin with the
Capitals, by which chiefly Columns are di&longs;
tingui&longs;hed from one another. And here I en
treat tho&longs;e who &longs;hall hereafter copy this Book,
that they would take the Pains to write the
Numbers which I &longs;et down, with Letters at
length, in this Manner, twelve, twenty, forty,
and not with numeral Characters, as XII. XX.
XL. Nece&longs;&longs;ity fir&longs;t taught Men to &longs;et Capi
tals upon their Columns, for the Heads of the
Timbers of their Architraves to meet and re&longs;t
upon; but this being at fir&longs;t nothing but a
&longs;quare Block of Wood, looked very mean and
unhand&longs;ome. Some Arti&longs;ts therefore among
the
the Honour of all Inventions) were the fir&longs;t
that endeavoured to improve it by making it
round, &longs;o as to look like a Cup covered with
a &longs;quare Tile; and becau&longs;e it &longs;eemed &longs;omewhat
too &longs;quat, they rai&longs;ed it higher by lengthening
the Neck. The
on of the
tion of the Cup into the Capital; but they did
not like to &longs;ee it &longs;o naked, nor with &longs;o long a
Neck, and there&longs;ore they added to it the Imi
tation of the Bark of a Tree hanging down on
each Side, which by its Convolution inwards,
or Volute, embraced the Sides of the Cup. Next came the
certain Arti&longs;t, named
the &longs;quat Cup, made u&longs;e of a high Va&longs;e co
vered with Leaves, in Imitation of one which
he had &longs;een on the Tomb of a young Maiden,
all over-grown with the Leaves of an Acanthus,
which had &longs;prung up quite round it, and which
he thought looked very beautiful. Thus three
Sorts of Capitals were now invented and re
ceived into Practice by the be&longs;t Workmen in
tho&longs;e Days: The
ed that this was in u&longs;e before among the anci
ent
the And what think you, was the
Occa&longs;ion of that infinite Number of other Ca
pitals which we &longs;ee quite different the one from
the other, but the Diligence and Application
with which Men have been continually &longs;tudy
ing to find out &longs;omething new? But yet there
is none that de&longs;erves to be preferred before
tho&longs;e already mentioned, except one which,
that we may not own our&longs;elves obliged to
Strangers for every thing, I call the
for this Order to the Richne&longs;s of the
thian,
in&longs;tead of tho&longs;e Ears, has &longs;ub&longs;tituted Volutes,
which are extremely admired and commend
ed. But to return to the Ordonnance of Co
lumns; the ancient Architects have left us the
following Rules for their Proportions. They
tell us that the
&longs;even Times as long as its Diameter at Bottom;
the
ten of its own Diameters. The Ba&longs;es of all
the&longs;e Columns they made of the &longs;ame Height;
but they made them of different Lineaments
and De&longs;igns: And indeed they differed as to
the Lineaments of almo&longs;t every particular Part,
though they in a great Mea&longs;ure agreed as to
the Proportions of Columns in general, and
particularly as to tho&longs;e Lineaments of Co
lumns, whereof we treated in the la&longs;t Book, all
were of one accord, as well the In this Point too
namely, that the Tops of the Shafts of all Co
lumns ought to be thinner than they were at
Bottom. Some laid it down as a Rule, that
they &longs;hould be a fourth Part thicker at Bottom
than at the Top. Others con&longs;idering that
Things always &longs;eem to lo&longs;e of their Bigne&longs;s in
Proportion to the Di&longs;tance from which they
are viewed, very prudently advi&longs;e that &longs;uch
Columns as were to be of a great Length,
&longs;hould be made &longs;omewhat thicker at the Top
than tho&longs;e that were &longs;horter; and for this Pur
po&longs;e they gave the following Directions. The
Diameter of the Bottom of a Column of fifteen
Foot high, &longs;hould be divided into &longs;ix Parts,
whereof five &longs;hould be given to the Diameter
at the Top. Of all Columns from fifteen to
twenty Foot high, the lower Diameter &longs;hould
be divided into thirteen Parts, eleven whereof
are to be allowed to the Thickne&longs;s at the Top;
all Columns from twenty to thirty Foot high,
mu&longs;t have &longs;even Parts at the Bottom, and &longs;ix
at the Top; tho&longs;e from thirty to forty Foot,
mu&longs;t have fifteen Parts Thickne&longs;s below and
thirteen above: La&longs;tly, tho&longs;e amounting to
fifty Foot height, mu&longs;t have eight Parts at the
Bottom, and &longs;even at the Top. According to
the &longs;ame Rule and Proportion, as the Column
grows &longs;till longer, the larger Diameter we mu&longs;t
allow to the Top of its Shaft: So that in the&longs;e
Points all Columns agree. Not that I can
&longs;ay, upon tho&longs;e Mea&longs;urements which I have
taken of ancient Structures, that the&longs;e Rules
were always &longs;trictly ob&longs;erved among the
mans.
CHAP. VII.
Scotia, Li&longs;ts, Die, and of the &longs;maller Parts of tho&longs;e Members, the Plat
band, Corona, Ovolo, &longs;mall Ogee, Cima-inver&longs;a, and Cymatium, both up
right and rever&longs;ed.
We &longs;hall here take a &longs;econd Review of
the &longs;ame Things relating to Columns,
which we con&longs;idered in the la&longs;t Book; not in
deed in the &longs;ame Method, but in another no
le&longs;s u&longs;eful. For this Purpo&longs;e, out of tho&longs;e Co
lumns which the Ancients made u&longs;e of in their
publick Buildings, I &longs;hall take one of a middle
Proportion between the Bigge&longs;t and the Lea&longs;t,
which I &longs;uppo&longs;e to be of about thirty Foot. The bigge&longs;t Diameter of the Shaft of this Co
lumn, I &longs;hall divide into nine equal Parts,
eight of which I &longs;hall a&longs;&longs;ign to the bigge&longs;t Di
ameter of its Cincture at the Top: Thus its
Proportion will be as eight to nine, which the In the &longs;ame Pro
portion I &longs;hall make the Diameter of the Di
minution at Bottom, to the large&longs;t Diameter
of the Sha&longs;t, making the latter nine and the
&longs;ormer eight. Again I &longs;hall make the Dia
meter of the Cincture at the Top to that of
the upper Diminution, as &longs;even to eight, or in
the Proportion which the
&longs;eptimal. I now proceed to the De&longs;cription
of tho&longs;e Members wherein they differ. Ba&longs;es
con&longs;i&longs;t of the&longs;e following; the Die, the Torus
and the Scotia. The Die is that &longs;quare Mem
ber which is at the Bottom of all, and I call it
by this Name, becau&longs;e it is &longs;quare on every Side,
like a flat Die; the Toru&longs;&longs;es are tho&longs;e Cu&longs;hi
ons, upon one of which the Column re&longs;ts, and
the other &longs;tands upon the Die; the Scotia is
that circular Hollow which lies between two
Toru&longs;&longs;es, like the Hollow in the Wheel of a
Pully. All the Mea&longs;ures of the&longs;e Members are
taken from the Diameter of the Bottom of the
Shaft; and fir&longs;t the
Proportions for them. They made the Height
of the Ba&longs;e to be half the Diameter of the Bot
tom of the Shaft, and the Plinth or Die, as
broad at mo&longs;t every Way as one Diameter and
a Half of the Column, and as one Diameter
and a Third at lea&longs;t. They then divided the
Height of the whole Ba&longs;e into three Parts, one
of which they a&longs;&longs;igned to the Height of the
Die. Thus the Height of the whole Ba&longs;e was
three Times that of the Die, and the Breadth
of the Die was three times the Height of the
Ba&longs;e. Then exclu&longs;ive of the Die they divided
the Re&longs;t of the Height of the Ba&longs;e into four
Parts, the uppermo&longs;t of which they gave to the
upper Torus. Again, what remained between
the upper Torus and the Die at Bottom, they
divided into two Parts, one of which they al
lowed to the lower Torus, and the other they
PLATE 23.
PLATE 24.
two Toru&longs;&longs;es. A Scotia con&longs;i&longs;ts of a hollow
Channel edged on each Side with an Annulet;
to each of tho&longs;e Annulets they allowed one
&longs;eventh Part of the Scotia, and the re&longs;t they
hollowed. We have formerly laid it down as a
Rule, that in all Building particular Care mu&longs;t
be taken that all the Work be &longs;et upon a per
fect Solid. Now it would not be &longs;o, if a Per
pendicular falling from the Edge of the upper
Stone were to meet with any void Space or Hol
low. For this Rea&longs;on in cutting their Scotias,
they took Care not to go in &longs;o far as to come
within the Perpendicular of the Work above. The Toru&longs;&longs;es mu&longs;t project one Half and an
Eighth of their Thickne&longs;s, and the extreme&longs;t
Edge of the Circle of the bigge&longs;t Torus mu&longs;t
be exactly Perpendicular to the Die. This was
the Method of the The
proved of the
two Scotias, and placed two Fillets between
them. Thus their Ba&longs;e was the Height of
half the Diameter of the Bottom of the Shaft;
and this Height they divided into four Parts,
one of which they a&longs;&longs;igned to the Height of the
Plinth, giving eleven of tho&longs;e fourth Parts to its
Breadth: So that the whole Height of the Ba&longs;e
was as four, and the Breadth as eleven. Ha
ving thus de&longs;igned their Plinth, they divided
the re&longs;t of the Height into &longs;even Parts, two of
which they gave to the Thickne&longs;s of the lower
Torus, and what remained be&longs;ides this Torus
and the Plinth, they divided into three Parts,
one of which they hollowed to the upper To
rus, and the two middle Parts they gave to the
two Scotias with their two Fillets, which &longs;eem
ed to be &longs;queezed between the two Toru&longs;&longs;es. The Proportions of the&longs;e Scotias and Fillets
were as follows: They divided the Space be
tween the two Toru&longs;&longs;es into &longs;even Parts, one
of which they gave to each Fillet, dividing the
re&longs;t equally between the two Scotias. As to
the Projecture of the Toru&longs;&longs;es they ob&longs;erved
the &longs;ame Rules as the
ing their Scotias had regard to the Perpendi
cular Solid of the Stone that was to be laid
over them; but they made their Annulets on
ly an eighth Part of the Scotia. Others were
of Opinion, that exclu&longs;ive of the Plinth, the
Ba&longs;e ought to be divided into &longs;ixteen Parts,
which we call Minutes; and of the&longs;e they gave
four to the lower Torus, and three to the upper,
three and a half to the lower Scotia, and three
and a half to the upper, and the other two
they a&longs;&longs;igned to the Fillets between them. The&longs;e were the
The
rinthians
Ba&longs;e too, and made u&longs;e indifferently of them
both; &longs;o that indeed they added nothing to the
Column, but a Capital. We are told that the
the
round Plinth; but I never met with &longs;uch a
Ba&longs;e among the Works of the Ancients. In
deed I have taken Notice, that in Porticoes
which u&longs;ed to go clear round their circular
Temples, the Ancients carved one continued
Plinth quite round, which &longs;erved for all the
Columns, and of the due Height which the
Plinth of the Ba&longs;e ought to be of. This I
doubt not they did, becau&longs;e they were con
vinced that &longs;quare Members did not &longs;uit with
a circular Structure. I have ob&longs;erved, that
&longs;ome have made even the Sides of the Abacus
of their Capitals point to the Center of the
Temple, which, if it were to be done in the
Ba&longs;es, might not be altogether ami&longs;s, though it
would &longs;carce be much commended. And here
it may not be improper to &longs;ay &longs;omething of the
&longs;everal Members of the Ornaments made u&longs;e
of in Architecture; and they are the&longs;e; the
Plat-band, the Corona, the Ovolo, or Quarter
round, the &longs;mall Ovolo, or Ogee, the Cima
inver&longs;a, and the Cymatium, or Doucine, both
upright and rever&longs;ed. All the&longs;e particular
Members have each a Projecture, but with
different Lines. The Plat-band projects in a
Square like the Letter L, and is indeed the
&longs;ame as a Li&longs;t or Fillet, but &longs;omewhat broader. The Corona has a much greater Projecture
than the Plat-band; the Ovolo, or Quarter
round, I was almo&longs;t tempted to call the Ivy,
becau&longs;e it runs along and cleaves to another
Member, and its Projecture is like a C placed
under the Letter L, thus <30> and the &longs;mall Ovolo,
or Ogee is only &longs;omewhat le&longs;s. But if you
place this Letter C rever&longs;ed under the Letter L,
thus <31> it forms the Cima-inver&longs;a. Again, if
under the &longs;ame Letter L you place an S in this
Manner <32> it is called the Cymatium, or Gola
from its Re&longs;emblance to a Man's Throat; but
if you place it inverted thus <33> it is called Cima
inver&longs;a, or by &longs;ome from the Similitude of its
Curve, the Onda, or Undula. Again, the&longs;e
Members are either plain, or el&longs;e have &longs;ome
other Ornaments in&longs;erted into them. In the
Plat-band or Fa&longs;cia it is common to carve
Cockle-&longs;hells, Birds, or In&longs;criptions. In the
Corona we frequently have Dentils, which are
made in the following Proportions: Their
Inter&longs;pace between them is two thirds of their
Breadth. The Ovolo, or Quarter-round, is
&longs;ometimes adorned with Eggs and &longs;ometimes
with Leaves, and the&longs;e Eggs are &longs;ometimes
carved entire, and &longs;ometimes &longs;heared off at the
Top. The Ogee, or Baguette is make like a
Row of Beads, &longs;trung upon a Thread. The
Cymatiums are never carved with any thing
but Leaves. The Annulets are always left
plain on every Side. In the putting the&longs;e
Members together, we mu&longs;t always keep to
this Rule, that the upper ones have always
more Projecture than tho&longs;e below them. The
Annulets are what &longs;eparate one Member from
the other, and &longs;erve as a Kind of Cymaize to
each Member; the Cymaize being any Li&longs;t
that is at the Top of any Member what&longs;oever. The&longs;e Cymaizes, or Annulets being always
&longs;mooth and poli&longs;hed, are al&longs;o of U&longs;e in di&longs;tin
gui&longs;hing the rough carved Members from each
other, and their Breadth is a &longs;ixth Part of the
Member over which they are &longs;et, whether it be
the Corona or Ovolo; but in the Cymatium
their Breadth is one whole third.
CHAP. VIII.
Let us now return to the Capitals.
The
Height as their Ba&longs;e, and divided that Height
into three Parts: The Fir&longs;t they gave to the
Abacus, the Second to the Ovolo which is un
de rthe Abacus, and the Third they allowed to
the Gorgerin or Neck of the Capital which is
under the Ovolo. The Breadth of the Abacus
every Way was equal to one whole Diameter,
and a twelfth of the Bottom of the Shaft. This
Abacus is divided into two Members, an up
right Cymatium and a Plinth, and the Cyma
tium is two fifth Parts of the whole Abacus. The upper Edge of the Ovolo joyned clo&longs;e to
the Bottom of the Abacus. At the Bottom of
the Ovolo &longs;ome made three little Annulets, and
others a Cymatium as an Ornament, but the&longs;e
never took up above a third Part of the Ovolo. The Diameter of the Neck of the Capital,
which was the lowe&longs;t Part of it, never exceed
ed the Thickne&longs;s of the Top of the Sha&longs;t,
which is to be ob&longs;erved in all Sorts of Capitals. Others, according to the Ob&longs;ervations which I
have made upon ancient Buildings, u&longs;ed to
make the Height of the
Quarters of the Diameter of the Bottom of the
Shaft, and divided this whole Height of the
Capital into eleven Parts, of which they allow
ed four to the Abacus, four to the Ovolo, and
three to the Neck of the Capital. Then they
divided the Abacus into two Parts, the up
permo&longs;t of which they gave to the Cymatium
and the lowermo&longs;t to the Plinth. The Ovolo
al&longs;o they divided into two Parts, a&longs;&longs;igning the
lowermo&longs;t either to the Annulets or to a Cy
matium, which &longs;erved as an Edging to the
Ovolo, and in the Neck of the Capital &longs;ome
cut Ro&longs;es, and others Leaves with a high Pro
jecture. This was the Practice of the
Our Rules for the Let the whole Height of the Capital be one
half the Diameter of the Bottom of the Co
lumn. Let us divide this Height into nineteen
Parts, or Minutes, three of which we mu&longs;t give
to the Abacus, four to the Thickne&longs;s of the
Volute, &longs;ix to the Ovolo, and the other &longs;ix be
low we mu&longs;t leave for the Turn of the Volutes
on each Side. The Breadth of the Abacus
every Way mu&longs;t be equal to the Diameter of
the Top of the Shafts; the Breadth of the Rind
which is to terminate in the Scroll mu&longs;t both
in the Front and Back of the Capital be equal
to the Abacus. This Rind mu&longs;t fall down on
each Side winding round like a Snail-&longs;hell. The Center of the Volute on the right Side
mu&longs;t be di&longs;tant from that on the Left two
and-thirty Minutes, and from the highe&longs;t
Point of the Abacus twelve Minutes. The
Method of turning this Volute is as follows:
About the Center of the Volute de&longs;cribe a lit
tle Circle, the Semi-diameter of which mu&longs;t be
one of the afore-mentioned Minutes. This is
the Eye of the Volute. In the Circumference
of this little Circle make two Points oppo&longs;ite
to each other, one above and the other below. Then fix one Foot of your Compa&longs;&longs;es into the
uppermo&longs;t Point, and extend the other to the
Line that divides the Abacus from the Rind,
and turn it outwards from the Capital till you
have made a perfect Semi-circle ending Per
pendicular under the lowe&longs;t Point or Dot in
the Eye of the Volute. Then contract your
PLATE 25.
“Diametro etc.” = diameter of
the column below. “minu.” = minutes.
PLATE 26.
“Voluta” = volute.
“Profilo” =
profile. “Pianta” = plan.
“Capitello Ionico in prospeto” = Ionic capital in elevation.
PLATE 27.
PLATE 28.
below the Eye, let the other reach to the End
of the Line which you have already turned,
that is to &longs;ay, to the End of your Semi-circle,
and turn it upwards till you touch the upper
Edge of the Ovolo. Thus with two unequal
Semi-circles, you will have made one entire
Compa&longs;s about the Eye of your Volute. Then
go on with your Sweep in the &longs;ame Manner,
till you have turned it quite to the Eye of the
Volute, or that little Circle in the Middle. The Top of the Ovolo in the Front mu&longs;t have
a Projecture of two Minutes beyond the Rind,
and the lower Part of it mu&longs;t be even with the
Top of the Shaft. The Sides of the Volutes
where the hindmo&longs;t joins to the foremo&longs;t on
each Side of the Capital, mu&longs;t be contracted to
the &longs;ame Width as the Ovolo, with the Addi
tion only of one half Minute. The Abacus
mu&longs;t be adorned with an upright Cymatium
of one Minute. The Back of the Volute mu&longs;t
be adorned with a little Channel half a Minute
deep, and the Annulets on the Side of this
Channel mu&longs;t be one Fourth of its Breadth,
and the Spaces on each Side the Channel mu&longs;t
be filled with Leaves or Fruits. That Part of
the Ovolo which appears forward in the Front
of the Capital mu&longs;t be carved with Eggs, and
under them with Berries. In the Void left on
each Side by the Sweep of the Volute, carve
Leaves or Scales. And thus much for the
Capital. The
one whole Diameter of the Bottom of the Shaft. This Height mu&longs;t be divided into &longs;even Parts
or Minutes, of which the Abacus mu&longs;t be al
lowed one. The re&longs;t is entirely taken up by
the Bell or Va&longs;e, the Breadth of which at the
Bottom mu&longs;t be exactly equal to that of the
Top of the Shaft, without any of its Projec
tures, and the Breadth of the Top of the Va&longs;e
mu&longs;t be equal to the large&longs;t Diameter of the
Bottom of the Shaft. The Length of the A
bacus on every Side mu&longs;t be equal to ten of the
afore-mentioned Parts; but the Corners of it
mu&longs;t be cut away to the Breadth of one half
of tho&longs;e Parts. The Abacus of the other Ca
pitals con&longs;i&longs;ts entirely of &longs;traight Lines, but
that of the
inwards to the Thickne&longs;s of the Bottom of the
Va&longs;e. The Thickne&longs;s of the Abacus is divid
ed into three Parts, the Uppermo&longs;t of which
mu&longs;t be made exactly as we adorn the Top of
the Shaft, that is to &longs;ay, with a Fillet and &longs;mall
Baguette. The Va&longs;e mu&longs;t be covered with
two Rows of Leaves &longs;tanding upright, each
Row con&longs;i&longs;ting of eight Leaves. Each Row
mu&longs;t be in Height two of the afore-mentioned
Parts, and the remaining Parts mu&longs;t be given
to &longs;everal little Shoots ri&longs;ing out of the Leaves
to the Top of the Va&longs;e. The&longs;e Shoots are in
Number &longs;ixteen, of which four are tied in each
Front of the Capital, two on the le&longs;t Hand in
one Knot, and two on the right in another,
&longs;preading away from each Knot in &longs;uch a Man
ner, that the Tops of the two outward ones
make a Sort of a Volute exactly under the
Horns of the Abacus. The two Middle ones
in each Front join together, winding al&longs;o like
Volutes, and exactly over the Middle of them
is carved a beautiful Flower ri&longs;ing out of the
Va&longs;e, which mu&longs;t not exceed the Abacus in
Breadth. The Breadth of tho&longs;e Parts of the
Lips of the Va&longs;e which tho&longs;e Shoots do not
conceal from us, is only one of the afore-men
tioned &longs;eventh Parts. The Leaves mu&longs;t be di
vided into five Plumes, and never more than
into &longs;even. The Tops of the Leaves mu&longs;t pro
ject half a Minute. It looks hand&longs;ome in the
Leaves of this Capital, and all other Carving
of the &longs;ame Nature, to have all the Lines cut
in deep and bold. This was the Capital of
the The
their Capital all the Ornaments that they found
in the others, and ob&longs;erved the &longs;ame Method
in making the Va&longs;e, Abacus, Leaves, and the
Flower in the Abacus, as the But
in&longs;tead of Shoots they made u&longs;e of a Sort of
Volutes, under the four Horns of the Abacus,
projecting two whole Minutes. The Front of
the Capital, being otherwi&longs;e naked, borrowed
its Ornaments from the
Shoots it has Volutes, and the Lips of its Va&longs;e
are carved full of Eggs with Berries underneath
them, like an Ovolo. Be&longs;ides the Capitals here
de&longs;cribed, we up and down &longs;ee a great many
other Sorts made up of the Members of the&longs;e,
with either Additions or Diminutions: But I
do not find that they are much approved. And thus much may &longs;uffice of Capitals, unle&longs;s
it be nece&longs;&longs;ary ju&longs;t to mention one Practice;
which is, that it is common over the Abacus
to lay a very thick &longs;quare Piece of Stone, or
Plinth, which &longs;eems as it were to give the Ca
pital Breadth, and to prevent its being oppre&longs;&longs;
ed by the Architrave, and at the &longs;ame Time is
of U&longs;e to keep the nice&longs;t and mo&longs;t delicate
Parts of the Work from being injured in laying
the Super&longs;tructure.
CHAP. IX.
and Drip or Crona, as al&longs;o of Flutings and &longs;ome other Ornaments helong
ing to Columns.
Having fixed our Capitals, we upon
them rai&longs;e our Architraves, upon the
Architrave the Freze, Cornice and other Mem
bers of the Covering. In mo&longs;t of the&longs;e Mem
bers the
from the
they agree. For In&longs;tance, it is a general Rule,
that the Thickne&longs;s of the Bottom of the Ar
chitrave &longs;hould be never greater than the Solid
of the Top of the Shaft of the Column, nor
&longs;hould the Breadth of the Top of the &longs;ame
Architrave be greater than the Diameter of the
Bottom of the Shaft. The Cornice is that
Member which lies upon the Freze, and pro
jects over it. In this too they ob&longs;erved the
Rule which we have already given, that the
Projecture of all Members that &longs;tood out from
the Naked of the Wall ought to be equal to
their Height. It was al&longs;o u&longs;ual with them to
make their Cornice lean forwards about a
twelfth Part of its Width, knowing that this
Member would &longs;eem to be falling backwards,
if it were &longs;et up at right Angles. I here again
entreat tho&longs;e who &longs;hall hereafter tran&longs;cribe this
Book, and I do it in the mo&longs;t earne&longs;t Manner,
that they would write the Numbers which I
&longs;et down with Letters at Length, and not with
numeral Characters, for the avoiding of more
numerous Errors. The
made the Height of their Architrave le&longs;s than
half the Diameter of the Bottom of their Co
lumn, and this Architrave they divided into
three Fa&longs;cias, under the uppermo&longs;t of which
ran &longs;ome &longs;hort Mouldings, in each whereof
&longs;tuck &longs;ix Nails, which were fixed in tho&longs;e
Mouldings with their Heads downwards, and
might at fir&longs;t be intended to keep the Freze
from retiring backward. The whole Height
of this Architrave they divided into twelve
Parts or Minutes, by which we &longs;hall mea&longs;ure
all the following Members. Four of the&longs;e
Minutes they gave to the lower Fa&longs;cia, &longs;ix to
the Middle one which is above it, and the other
two they left for the upper Fa&longs;cia; and of the
&longs;ix Minutes given to the middle Fa&longs;cia, one
was allowed to the Reglet or Moulding under
the Tænia, and another to the Nails which
&longs;tuck in that Moulding. The Length of the&longs;e
Reglets was twelves Minutes, and the Spaces
from one Reglet to the other were eighteen. Over the Architrave for an Ornament they &longs;et
the Triglyphs, the Front of which, being rai&longs;ed
High and Perpendicular, projected over the
Architrave half a Minute. The Breadth of
the Triglyphs mu&longs;t be equal to the Thickne&longs;s
of the Architrave, and their Height or Length
half as much more, &longs;o that this will be eight
teen Minutes. Lengthways in the Face of the&longs;e
Triglyphs we cut three Furrows at equal Di&longs;
tance from each other, and hollowed at right
Angles, allowing the Breadth of the opening
one Minute. The Corners of the&longs;e Furrows or
Channels mu&longs;t be cut away to the Breadth of
half a Minute. The Spaces or Metopes be
tween the Triglyphs, where the Proportions are
elegant, are flat Tables exactly &longs;quare, and the
Triglyphs them&longs;elves mu&longs;t be &longs;et perpendicu
larly over the Solid of their Columns. The
Face of the Triglyphs project half a Minute out
from the Metopes; but the Perpendicular of
the Metopes mu&longs;t fall exactly upon the lower
Fa&longs;cia of the Architrave. In the&longs;e Metopes it
is u&longs;ual to carve the Skulls of Oxen, Pateras,
Wheels, and the like. Over each of the&longs;e
Triglyphs and Metopes, in&longs;tead of a Cymati
um, mu&longs;t run a Fillet of the Breadth of two
Minutes, over the&longs;e a Cima-inver&longs;a of the
Breadth of two Minutes, and above that a Plat
band of the Breadth of three Minutes, which is
adorned with little Eggs, in Imitation, perhaps,
of the &longs;mall Stones which &longs;ometimes bur&longs;t out
between the Joints of a Pavement through the
too great Abundance of Mortar. In the&longs;e we
fix the Mutules of the &longs;ame Breadth as the
Triglyphs, and of the &longs;ame Height as the Plat
band, placed directly over the Heads of the
Triglyphs and projecting twelve Minutes. The
Heads of the Mutules are cut Perpendicular,
with a Cymai&longs;e over them. Over the Mutules
runs a &longs;mall Cima of three Quarters of a Mi
nute. In the Plat-fond of the Entablature be
tween the Mutules we carve a Ro&longs;e or a Flower
PLATE 29.
PLATE 30.
Upon the Mutules lies
the Corona, which is allowed four Minutes,
and this Corona con&longs;i&longs;ts of a Plat-band or Drip
and a Cima Recta, which la&longs;t takes up one
Minute and a Half. If you are to have a Pe
diment over your Building, all the Members of
the Cornice mu&longs;t be transferred to that, and
every Member in the Pediment mu&longs;t corre&longs;pond
with the &longs;ame in the Cornice, and an&longs;wer to
the &longs;ame Perpendiculars and Proportions. There
is only this Difference between Pediments and
the fir&longs;t Cornices, that in Pediments the high
e&longs;t Member of the Cornice is always the Drip,
which in the
four Minutes in Height, whereas this Drip or
Cima has never Place in a Cornice that is to
have a Pediment over it; but in tho&longs;e which
are to have no Pediment it is con&longs;tantly u&longs;ed. But of Pediments we &longs;hall &longs;peak by and by.
This was the Entablature of the The
&longs;on, that the Proportion of the Architrave
ought to encrea&longs;e according to the Bigne&longs;s of
the Column; which mu&longs;t certainly have a good
Effect both here and in the The Rules they gave for enlarging this Pro
portion were as follows: When the Column
was twenty Foot high the Architrave ought to
be the thirteenth Part of that Length; but
when the Column was to be five-and-twenty
Foot, the Architrave &longs;hould be the twelfth
Part of the Length of the Column. La&longs;tly,
if the Column was to be thirty Foot high, the
Architrave was to be the eleventh Part, and for
higher Columns in the &longs;ame Gradation. The
of three Fa&longs;cias, and the Whole was divided
into nine Parts, two of which were allowed to
the Cymai&longs;e, which was an upright one. The
Remainder below the Cymai&longs;e they divided in
to twelve Parts, three of which went to the
lower, four to the middle, and five to the up
per Fa&longs;cia, which lies ju&longs;t below the Cymai&longs;e. Some made the&longs;e Fa&longs;cias without any Sort of
Mouldings between them, but others made
them with Mouldings, and the&longs;e were &longs;ome
times a &longs;mall Cima-inver&longs;a, taking up a fifth
Part of the Fa&longs;cia, and &longs;ometimes a Baguette
taking up a &longs;eventh Part. We may ob&longs;erve in
the Works of the Ancients, that the Linea
ments or Members of the &longs;everal Orders were
often mixed, one borrowing from another, and
often with a very good Effect. But they &longs;eem
ed chiefly plea&longs;ed with an Architrave of only
two Fa&longs;cias, which I take to be entirely
without its Reglets and Drops. Their Man
ner of de&longs;igning this Architrave was thus. They
divided the whole Height into nine Parts, a&longs;
&longs;igning one Part and two Thirds to the Cy
mai&longs;e. The upper Fa&longs;cia had four Parts and
one Third, and the lower Fa&longs;cia the other three. Half the upper Part of this Cymai&longs;e was taken
up with a Cima-inver&longs;a and a Fillet, and the
other half with a &longs;mall Quarter-round. The
upper Fa&longs;cia for its Cymai&longs;e had a Baguette,
which took up an eighth Part of the Fa&longs;cia,
and the lower Fa&longs;cia had a Cima-recta of the
third Part of its whole Breadth. Upon the
Architrave lay the Rafters; but their Heads
did not appear out, as in the
were cut away Perpendicular to the Archi
trave, and were covered with a flat Pannel
which I call the Freze, the Breadth of which
was the &longs;ame as the Height of the Architrave
which is under it. Upon this they u&longs;ed to
carve Va&longs;es and other Uten&longs;ils belonging to
their Sacrifices, or Skulls of Oxen at certain
&longs;tated Di&longs;tances, with Fe&longs;toons of Flowers and
Fruits hanging between their Horns. This
Freze had over it a Cima-recta, which was
never higher than &longs;our Parts of the Freze, nor
lower than three. Over this ran the Denticle,
four Parts high, &longs;ometimes carved and &longs;ome
times left quite plain. Above this was the
Ovolo, out of which came the Mutules, three
Parts in Height, and carved with Eggs, and
from hence came the Mutules &longs;upporting the
Drip, which was four Parts high and &longs;ix Parts
and a half Broad in its Soffit, or that Face un
derneath which lay over the Mutules. Over
this Drip was a &longs;mall Cima-recta, or el&longs;e a Ba
guette two Parts in Height, and at the Top of
all was a Cymai&longs;e or Cima-inver&longs;a of three
Parts, or if you plea&longs;e of four. In this Cy
mai&longs;e both the
carve the Mouths of Lyons, which &longs;erved for
Spouts to throw out the Water; but they took
Care that they &longs;hould neither &longs;prinkle any Body
that was going into the Temple, nor beat back
into any Part of the Temple it&longs;elf; and for this
Rea&longs;on they &longs;topt up tho&longs;e Mouths that were
over the Doors and Windows. The
ans
Freze or Cornice, that I can call to Mind, ex
cept only that they did not make their Mutu
les &longs;quare like the
Sweep like a Cymai&longs;e, and made the Di&longs;tances
between them equal to their Projecture from
the Naked of the Building. In all other Re
&longs;pects they followed the Thus much
be covered with Architraves; of tho&longs;e which are
to &longs;upport Arches we &longs;hall &longs;peak by and by,
when we come to treat of the Ba&longs;ilique. There
are only &longs;ome few Particulars more relating to
Colonades of this Sort, which ought by no
Means to be omitted. It is certain that a Co
lumn which &longs;tands in the open Air, always
&longs;eems &longs;maller than one that is under Cover, and
the more Flutings there are in its Shaft, the
Thicker it will appear. For this Rea&longs;on we
are advi&longs;ed either to make tho&longs;e fluted Co
lumns that &longs;tand in the open Air &longs;omewhat
thicker, or el&longs;e to encrea&longs;e the Number of the
Channels. The&longs;e Channels are made either
direct along the Shaft, or el&longs;e run &longs;piral about
it. The
Shaft. The&longs;e Channels are called by Archi
tects Striæ, and among the
in Number Twenty. Others made Twenty
four. Others &longs;eparated the&longs;e Channels by &longs;mall
Li&longs;ts, which were never more than a third, nor
le&longs;s than a fourth Part of the Groove of the
Fluting, and the&longs;e Flutings were a &longs;emi-circu
lar Concave. In the
ings are plain without any Li&longs;t, with very little
hollow, or at mo&longs;t but the Quarter of a Circle,
terminating the Channels in an Angle. For
the lower third Part of the Shaft of the Co
lumn, they generally filled their Flutings with
a Cable, to make the Column &longs;tronger, and
le&longs;s liable to Injuries. Tho&longs;e Flutings which
run direct along the Shaft, make the Column
appear to the Eye of the Beholder thicker than
it really is. Tho&longs;e Channels that run &longs;piral
about the Shaft, vary it too; but the le&longs;s they
&longs;werve from the Perpendicular of the Column,
the Thicker the Column will appear. They
mu&longs;t round clear round the Column never
more than three Times, nor ever make le&longs;s than
one compleat Revolution. Whatever Flutings
you make, they mu&longs;t always run from the Bot
tom to the Top of the Shaft in even and con
tinued Lines, with an equal Hollow all the
Way. The Sides of the Builder's Square will
&longs;erve us as a Guide for making our Channels. There is a mathematical Line, which being
drawn from any certain Point of the Circum
ference of a Semi-circle to the End of its Dia
meter is called a right Angle, which is the &longs;ame
as the Builder's Square. Having then marked
out the Sides of your Flutings, &longs;ink them &longs;o
deep in the Middle, that the Angle of your
Square may touch the Bottom and its two Sides
of the Lips of them at the &longs;ame Time. At
each End of the Shaft of a fluted Column, you
mu&longs;t leave a proper Di&longs;tance plain between the
Channels and the Cincture at one End, and
the A&longs;tragal at the other. We are told, that
all round the Temple of
Columns, they made u&longs;e of Colo&longs;&longs;al Statues
eighteen Foot high. In other Places they had
wreathed Columns twi&longs;ted round with Ten
drils and Vine-leaves carved in Relief, and
with the Figures of little Birds here and there
inter&longs;per&longs;ed. But the plain Column is much
more agreeable to the Maje&longs;ty of a Temple. There are certain Dimentions which are great
Helps to the Workmen in the placing of their
Columns, and the&longs;e are taken from the Num
ber of the Columns them&longs;elves that are to be
u&longs;ed in the Structure. Thus, for In&longs;tance, to
begin with the
Columns for the Front of their Building, they
divided the Front of the Platform into &longs;even
and-twenty Parts. If they had &longs;ix Columns,
they divided it into one-and-forty, and if eight
into &longs;ix-and-fifty, and of the&longs;e Parts they al
lowed two for the Thickne&longs;s of each Column.
But in
to be u&longs;ed, the Front of the Platform mu&longs;t be
divided into eleven Parts and a half; where
the&longs;e are to be &longs;ix, into eighteen, and where
eight, into four-and-twenty and a half; whereof
only one Part mu&longs;t be given to the Thickne&longs;s
of each Column.
CHAP. X.
tar, and of the Walls and their Ornaments.
It is the mo&longs;t approved Ta&longs;te to a&longs;cend to
the Floor of the Temple and to the inner
Area by &longs;ome Number of Steps, and to have
the Place where the Altar is to be fixed, rai&longs;ed
higher than the Re&longs;t. The Apertures and En
trance to the Chapels on the Sides were &longs;ome
times left quite open without any Inclo&longs;ure
what&longs;oever, and &longs;ometimes &longs;hut in with two
PLATE 31.
PLATE 32.
PLATE 33.
PLATE 34.
and Cornice, according to the Rules ju&longs;t now
laid down for Porticoes; and the re&longs;t of the
Void above the Cornice was left quite open
for &longs;etting of Statues or large Candle&longs;ticks. Others inclo&longs;ed the Entrance into &longs;uch Chapels
with a Walls brought half Way on each Side. Tho&longs;e who imagine that the great Thickne&longs;s
of the Walls adds Dignity to a Temple, are
greatly mi&longs;taken; for who is there that does
not di&longs;like a Body compo&longs;ed of gouty Limbs? be&longs;ides that when the Walls are too thick, they
always intercept the Light. In the
Care of that great Work having in it Occa&longs;ion
for thick Walls, built the Ribs entirely of &longs;olid
Work, without any Stuffing, and tho&longs;e Inter
&longs;paces which a le&longs;s skilful Arti&longs;t would have
&longs;tuffed, he employed in Niches and other A
pertures, whereby he &longs;aved Expence, and made
the Structure le&longs;s heavy, and more beautiful. The Thickne&longs;s of the Walls mu&longs;t be proporti
oned after the Manner of Columns; that is to
&longs;ay, their Thickne&longs;s mu&longs;t corre&longs;pond to their
Height, as in tho&longs;e. I have ob&longs;erved that the
Ancients, in building their Temples, u&longs;ed to
divide the Front of their Platform into twelve
Parts; or, when they would make them parti
cularly &longs;trong, into nine, and one of tho&longs;e
Parts was the Thickne&longs;s of the Wall. In cir
cular Temples the Wall was never le&longs;s high
than half the Diameter of its inner Area;
many made it two Thirds of that Diameter,
and &longs;ome three Fourths, which was the Height
to which they carried the Wall before they be
gan the Sweep of the Cupola. But the more
di&longs;creet Workmen divided the Circumference
of this circular Platform into four Parts; and
one of tho&longs;e fourth Parts being extended to a
Line was equal to the inward Height of the
Wall, which is as four to eleven: And this
Practice has been al&longs;o imitated in &longs;quare Tem
ples as well as round ones, and in many other
Kinds of Structures that were to be covered
with Arches. But where there were to be
Chapels on each Side in the Wall, to make the
Aperture &longs;eem the Larger they &longs;ometimes rai&longs;ed
their Wall equal in Height to the whole Breadth
of the Area. In round Temples the inward
Height of the Wall will not be the &longs;ame as the
outward: Becau&longs;e within the Wall ends exact
ly where the Sweep of the Arch begins; but
without, it is carried up &longs;traight to the Top of
the Cornice. If the Cupola have a Cover on
the Out&longs;ide made with Degrees like Steps, the
outward Wall will take up a third Part of it;
but if the Cover be made with &longs;traight Lines
and a common Slope, then the outward Wall
will take up half. Nothing is more conveni
ent for building the Walls of a Temple, than
Brick; but then it mu&longs;t be ca&longs;ed with &longs;ome
thing hand&longs;omer. There have been many dif
ferent Opinions with Relation to the Adorning
of the Walls of Temples. At
in
Walls adorned with a very beautiful Stone, and all
the Joints pointed with ma&longs;&longs;y Gold. In the Tem
ple of
the celebrated Carver, made an Incru&longs;tation of
Stuc tempered with Saffron and Milk. The
Kings of
of
Concubines of
no le&longs;s than a Cubit or Foot and half broad,
and three hundred &longs;ixty-five Cubits round,
with a Day of the Year in&longs;cribed upon every
Cubit. Others condemned this Exce&longs;s of Or
nament in Temples.
People &longs;hould be admoni&longs;hed by the Laws to
lay a&longs;ide all Manner of Delicacy in the Adorn
ing their Temples, and take Care only to have
them perfectly clean and white. However,
&longs;ays he, let the Structure of them be beautiful. I confe&longs;s, for my own Part, I am very ready to
believe, that Purity and Simplicity of Colour,
as of Life, mu&longs;t be mo&longs;t plea&longs;ing to the Divine
Being; and that it is not proper to have any
Thing in a Church that may be likely to draw
off Men's Thoughts from Devotion and fix
them upon the Plea&longs;ure and Delight of the
Sen&longs;es: But &longs;till I am of Opinion, that he is
highly to be commended, who, as in other
publick Structures, &longs;o al&longs;o in Temples, without
departing from the Gravity requi&longs;ite in &longs;uch
Works, endeavours to have all the Parts, the
Walls, Roof, and Pavement, as hand&longs;ome and
clegant as po&longs;&longs;ible, &longs;till chiefly having it in his
Eye to make all his Ornaments the mo&longs;t dura
ble that may be. Thus nothing can be more
proper for the Ornament of the Roof on the
In&longs;ide than all Sorts of
Marble, Gla&longs;s, and other la&longs;ting Materials. Stuc-work with Figures, according to the Prac
tice of the Ancients, may be a very hand&longs;ome
Coat for the Out&longs;ide. In both you mu&longs;t take
the greate&longs;t Care to chu&longs;e proper Places as
well for your Pictures as Figures. The Por
tico, for In&longs;tance, is the fitte&longs;t Place for the
Repre&longs;entation of great Actions in Pictures.
Pictures do much better than painting upon
the Wall it&longs;elf, and in my Mind Statues are
hand&longs;omer than Pictures. unle&longs;s they be &longs;uch
excellent ones as tho&longs;e two, for which
the Dictator gave ninety Talents, or fourteen
hundred of our Crowns, in order to adorn the
Temple of
upon a Picture with no le&longs;s Plea&longs;ure (I mean a
good one, for ill Painting is a Di&longs;grace to the
Wall) than I read a good Hi&longs;tory. They both
indeed are Pictures, only the Hi&longs;torian paints
with Words, and the Painter with his Pencil. All other Qualifications are common to them
both, and they both require the greate&longs;t Genius
and Application. But I would have nothing
either on the Wall or Pavement of the Tem
ple but what &longs;avours entirely of Philo&longs;ophy. We
read that in the Capitol there were Tables of
Bra&longs;s whereon were in&longs;cribed the Laws by
which the Empire was to be governed; which,
when the Temple was de&longs;troyed by Fire, were
re&longs;tored by the Emperor
Number of three Thou&longs;and. We are told that
at the Entrance of the Temple of
los
veral Compo&longs;itions of Herbs proper to be u&longs;ed
as Remedies again&longs;t all Sorts of Poi&longs;on. Thus
I &longs;hould think it would be proper among us,
by Way of In&longs;cription, to have &longs;uch Precepts
as may make us more ju&longs;t, more mode&longs;t, more
u&longs;eful, more adorned with all Virtues, and
more acceptable in the Sight of God; &longs;uch as
the&longs;e,
you would be belovedAnd I would
have the Compo&longs;ition of the Lines of the
Pavement full of mu&longs;ical and geometrical Pro
portions; to the Intent that which-&longs;oever Way
we may turn our Eyes, we may be &longs;ure to find
Employment for our Minds. One Method
which the Ancients took to adorn their Tem
ples, was to fill them with Things that were
uncommon and excellent; as in the Temple of
of Emmets brought from
Crowns made of Cinnamon which
gave to the Capitol; or like that great Root of
Cinnamon which
cipal Temple of Mount
Gold. At
dered by
ticoes of the Temple there were above fifteen
thou&longs;and Suits of Armour, and to adorn the
Temple it&longs;elf above two thou&longs;and Statues; all
which, according to
de&longs;troyed and broken by
which were in&longs;cribed with the Name, or bore
the Repre&longs;entation of &longs;ome God; and perhaps
Variety is more to be con&longs;ulted in &longs;uch Collec
tions than Number.
in
the Secret of making Statues of Salt; and
tells us, that there was one made of Gla&longs;s. There is no Que&longs;tion but &longs;uch Things mu&longs;t be
exceeding rare, and very worthy to rai&longs;e our
Admiration of the Work both of Nature and
Art. But of Statues we &longs;hall &longs;peak in another
Place. The Walls and Apertures mu&longs;t be
adorned with Columns; but not like a Porti
co. There is one Thing which I have ob&longs;erv
ed in the Covering of &longs;ome of the bigge&longs;t
Temples, which is, that not having Columns
of Height &longs;ufficient to reach to the Spring of
their Arches, they heightened the Sides of the
Arches them&longs;elves in &longs;uch a Manner that their
Sagitta was a third Part longer than their Se
mi-diameter, which added not a little to the
Clearne&longs;s and Beauty of the Work it&longs;elf. And
here I mu&longs;t not omit one Precept, namely, that
the Spring of the Arch &longs;hould have at lea&longs;t &longs;o
much Perpendicular, as to prevent the Projec
ture of the Cornices from taking away any Part
of the Arch from the Sight of tho&longs;e that &longs;taid
below in the Middle of the Temple.
CHAP. XI.
I am entirely for having the Roofs of Tem
ples arched, as well becau&longs;e it gives them
the greater Dignity, as becau&longs;e it makes them
more durable. And indeed I know not how
it happens that we &longs;hall hardly meet any one
Temple what&longs;oever that has not fallen into the
Calamity of Fire. We read that
all the Temples in
moved the Trea&longs;ure and Ornaments belonging
to them to Eu&longs;ebius
Oracle of
the
of it&longs;elf, and was rebuilt by
informed by We read too that it
that
U&longs;e of his Citizens. It was al&longs;o con&longs;umed by
Fire in the Reign of
the Death of
and it is certain, that it was again burnt about
the Time of the Birth of tho&longs;e three great Lu
minaries of Learning,
ro. The Temple of
as it was al&longs;o about the Time that
was condemned to drink Poi&longs;on at
and the Temple of the
by Fire the &longs;ame Year that
Why &longs;hould I mention the &longs;acred Porticoes of
Or at
of the Godde&longs;s
In which la&longs;t we are told the Sibyls Ver&longs;es
were de&longs;troyed. We indeed find, that &longs;carce
any Temple e&longs;caped the &longs;ame Calamity.
dorus
dedicated to
cily,
the Flames.
e&longs;caped being burnt, when he him&longs;elf took it,
becau&longs;e its Roofs were vaulted. Nor are vault
ed Roofs de&longs;tituted of their Ornaments. The
Ancients transferred all the &longs;ame Ornaments to
their Cupolas, as the Gold&longs;miths u&longs;ed about
the Pateras or Cups for the Sacrifices; and the
&longs;ame Sort of Work as was u&longs;ed in the Quilts
of their Beds, they imitated in their vaulted
Roofs, whether plain or camerated. Thus we
&longs;ee them divided into four, eight, or more Pan
nels, or cro&longs;&longs;ed different Ways with equal
Angles and with Circles, in the mo&longs;t beautiful
Manner that can be imagined. And here it
may be proper to ob&longs;erve, that the Ornaments
of vaulted Roofs, which con&longs;i&longs;t in the Forms
of their Pannels or Excavations, are in many
Places exceeding hand&longs;ome, and particularly
at the
any In&longs;truction left us in Writing how to make
them. My Method of doing it, which is very
ea&longs;y and cheap, is as follows: I de&longs;cribe the
Lineaments of the future Pannels or Excavati
ons upon the Boards of the Scaffolding it&longs;elf,
whether they are to be Quadrangular, Sexan
gular, or Octangular. Then tho&longs;e Parts which
I intended to excavate in my Roof, I rai&longs;e to
the &longs;tated Height with unbaked Bricks &longs;et in
Clay in&longs;tead of Mortar. Upon this Kind of
Mount thus rai&longs;ed on the Back of the Scaffold
ing, I build my vaulted Roof of Brick and Mor
tar, taking great Care that the thinner Parts
cohere firmly with the Thicker and Stronger. When the Vault is compleated and &longs;ettled and
the Scaffolding is taken away from under it, I
clear the &longs;olid Building from tho&longs;e Mounts of
Clay which I had rai&longs;ed at fir&longs;t; and thus the
Shape of my Evcavations or Pannels are formed
according to my original De&longs;ign. But to re
turn to our Subject. I am extremely delighted
with an Ornament mentioned by
tells us of a Roof on which was painted a Sky
with a moving Star in it, which by a Kind of
Hand &longs;hewed at once the Hour of the Day and
what Wind blew abroad. I &longs;hould be wonder
fully plea&longs;ed with &longs;uch a Contrivance. The
Ancients were of Opinion that rai&longs;ing the Roof
high and ending it with a Pedient gave &longs;uch an
Air of Greatne&longs;s to a Building, that they u&longs;ed
to &longs;ay the Hou&longs;e of
never &longs;uppo&longs;ed it rained in Heaven, could
not look hand&longs;ome without it. The Rule for
the&longs;e Pediments is as follows. Take not more
than the Fourth nor le&longs;s than the Fifth of the
Breadth of your Front along the Cornice, and
let this be the Summit or upper Angle of your
Pediment. Upon this Summit, as al&longs;o at each
End, you &longs;et Acroteria, or little Pede&longs;tals for
Statues. The Height of the Acroteria or Pe
de&longs;tals at the Ends &longs;hould be equal to that of
the Freze and Cornice; but that which &longs;tands
on the Summit, &longs;hould be an eighth Part higher
than the others. We are told that
was the fir&longs;t that adorned his Pediments with
Statues, which he made of Earth coloured red;
but afterwards they came to be made of Mar
ble, and the whole Covering too.
CHAP. XII.
together with their Members, Proportions and Ornaments.
The Windows in the Temple ought to
be &longs;mall and high, &longs;o that nothing but
the Sky may be &longs;een through them; to the
Intent that both the Prie&longs;ts that are employed
in the Performance of divine Offices, and tho&longs;e
that a&longs;&longs;i&longs;t upon Account of Devotion, may
reign Objects. That Horror with which a
&longs;olemn Gloom is apt to &longs;ill the Mind naturally
rai&longs;es our Veneration, and there is always &longs;ome
what of an Au&longs;terity in Maje&longs;ty: Be&longs;ides that
tho&longs;e Lights which &longs;hould be always burning
in Temples, and than which nothing is more
awful for the Honour and Ornament of Re
ligion, look faint and langui&longs;h, unle&longs;s favoured
by &longs;ome Ob&longs;curity. For this Rea&longs;on the Ancients
were very often contented without any other
Aperture be&longs;ides the Gate. For my own Part,
I am for having the Entrance into the Temple
thoroughly well lighted, and tho&longs;e Parts with
in, where People are to walk, not melan
choly; but the Place where the Altar is to be
&longs;eated, I think &longs;hould have more of Maje&longs;ty
than Beauty. But to return to the Apertures
them&longs;elves. Let us here remember what has
formerly been &longs;aid, namely, that Apertures
con&longs;i&longs;t of three Parts, the Void, the Jambs
and the Lintel, which two la&longs;t we may call
the Frame of the Door or Window. The An
cients never u&longs;ed to make either Doors or Win
dows otherwi&longs;e than &longs;quare. We &longs;hall treat
fir&longs;t of Doors. All the be&longs;t Architects, whe
ther
made their Doors narrower at the Top than
at the Bottom by one fourteenth Part. To
the Lintel they gave the &longs;ame Thickne&longs;s as
they found at the Top of the Jamb, making
the Lines of their Ornaments an&longs;wer exactly
to one another, and meet together in ju&longs;t
Angles: And they rai&longs;ed the Cornice over the
Door equal in Height to the Capital of the
Columns in the Portico. Thus far they all
agreed, but in other Particulars they differed
very much. And fir&longs;t the
whole Height, that is to &longs;ay, from the Level of
the Pavement up to the Roof, into &longs;ixteen
Parts, whereof they gave ten to the Height of
the Void, which the Ancients u&longs;ed to call the
Light; five to its Breadth, and one to the
Breadth of the Frame. This was the
Divi&longs;ion; but the
Height to the Top of the Columns, as afore
mentioned, into nineteen Parts, whereof they
gave twelve to the Height of the Light, &longs;ix to
its Breadth, and one to the Frame. The
rinthians
a&longs;&longs;igning &longs;even to the Breadth of the Light,
and doubling that Breadth for its Length, and
allowing for the Breadth of the Frame one
&longs;eventh Part of the Breadth of the Light. In
all the&longs;e Doors the Frame was an Architrave. And, unle&longs;s I am much mi&longs;taken, the
made u&longs;e of their own Architrave, adorned
with three Fa&longs;cias, as did the
theirs, only leaving out the Reglets and
Drops; and all adorned their Lintels with
mo&longs;t of the Delicacies of their Cornice; only
the
&longs;tead of them made u&longs;e of a Freze as broad as
the Jamb or Frame of the Door. Over the
Freze they added an upright Cymatium; and
over that a plain Dentil, and next an Ovolo;
above that ran the Mutules with their Cymai&longs;e,
and over them an inverted Cymatium; ob
&longs;erving in all the&longs;e Members the &longs;ame Pro
portions as we have already &longs;et down for the The
trary, did not make u&longs;e of a plain Freze, as
in their common Entablature; but in&longs;tead of
it made a &longs;welling Freze, one third Part of
the Breadth of the Architrave, adorned with
Leaves bound about with a Kind of Swathes. Over this they made their Cyma&longs;e, Dentil,
Ovolo, Mutules, with their Cymai&longs;e, and above
all the Drip and inverted Cymatium. Be&longs;ides
this, at each End of the Entablature, on the
Out&longs;ide of the Jamb, under the Drip, they
made a Sort of Ears, as we may call them,
from their Re&longs;emblance to the hand&longs;ome Ears
of a fine Spaniel, by Architects called,
The&longs;e Con&longs;oles were turned like a great S. The Ends winding round in this Manner, <29>,
and the Thickne&longs;s of the Con&longs;ole at the Top
was equal to the Breadth of the &longs;welling Freze,
and one fourth Part le&longs;s at Bottom. The
Length reached down to the Top of the Void
or Light. The
Doors all the Embelli&longs;hments of a Collonade. And to avoid further Repetitions, we adorn a
Door, e&longs;pecially when it is to &longs;tand under the
open Air with a Sort of little Portico, attached
again&longs;t the Wall, in this Manner. Having made
the Frame of the Door, we place on each Side
an entire Column, or if you will only an half
Column, with their Ba&longs;es at &longs;uch a Di&longs;tance
from each other, as to leave the Jambs, or
whole Antipagment clear. The Length of
the whole Columns with their Capitals, mu&longs;t
be equal to the Di&longs;tance between the outward
Edge of the left Ba&longs;e to the outward Edge of
the Right. Over the&longs;e Columns you make a
regular Architrave, Freze, Cornice and Pedi
ment, according to all the &longs;ame Proportions as
as we have above laid down for a Portico. Some on each Side of the Door, in&longs;tead of a
plain Jamb, made u&longs;e of all the Ornaments of a
PLATE 35.
PLATE 36.
PLATE 37.
but this is a Delicacy much more &longs;uitable to
the Hou&longs;e of a private Per&longs;on, and e&longs;pecially
about Windows, than to the Door of a Tem
ple. In very large Temples, and e&longs;pecially in
&longs;uch as have no other Apertures but the Door,
the Height of the Open of that Door is divided
into three Parts, the uppermo&longs;t of which is left
by Way of Window, and grated, the Remain
der &longs;erves for the Door. The Door it&longs;elf too,
or Valve, con&longs;i&longs;ts of different Members and
Proportions. Of the&longs;e Members the Chief is
the Hinge, which is contrived after two Man
ners; either by an iron Staple fixed in the
Door-ca&longs;e; or el&longs;e by Pins coming out from
the Top and Bottom of the Door it&longs;elf, upon
which it balances and turns, and &longs;o &longs;huts and
opens. The Doors of Temples, which for the
Sake of Duration, are generally made of Bra&longs;s,
and con&longs;equently mu&longs;t be very heavy, are bet
ter tru&longs;ted to Axles, in the later Manner, than
to hang upon any Staples. I &longs;hall not here
&longs;pend Time in giving an Account of tho&longs;e
Doors which we read of in Hi&longs;torians and Poets,
enriched with Gold, Ivory, and Statues, and
&longs;o heavy that they could never be opened with
out a Multitude of Hands, and &longs;uch a Noi&longs;e as
terri&longs;ied the Hearers, I own Facility in open
ing and &longs;hutting them is more to my Mind. Under the Bottom therefore of the lower Pin
or Axle, make a Box of Bra&longs;s mixed with Tin,
and in this Box &longs;ink a deep hollow Concave at
the Bottom; let the Bottom of the Axle have al&longs;o
a Concavity in it, &longs;o that the Box and the Axle
may contain between them a round Ball of
Steel, perfectly &longs;mooth and well poli&longs;hed. The
upper Pin or Axle mu&longs;t al&longs;o be let into a bra&longs;s
Box made in the Lintel, and be&longs;ides mu&longs;t turn
in a moveable iron Circle as &longs;mooth as it can
be made; and by this Means the Door will
never make the lea&longs;t Re&longs;i&longs;tance in turning, but
&longs;wing which Way you plea&longs;e with all the Ea&longs;e
imaginable. Every Door &longs;hould have two Val
ves or Leaves, one opening to one Side, and the
other to the other. The Thickne&longs;s of the&longs;e
Leaves &longs;hould be one twelfth Part of their
Breadth. Their Ornament are Pannels or
&longs;quare Mouldings applied lengthways down the
Leaf, and you may have as many of them as
you will, either two or three, one above the
other, or only one. If you have two, they mu&longs;t
lie like the Steps of a Stair, one above the other,
and both mu&longs;t take up no more of the Breadth
of the Leaf than a fourth, nor le&longs;s than a &longs;ixth
Part; and let the la&longs;t, which lies above the
other, be one fifth Part broader than the un
der one. If you have three of the&longs;e Mould
ings, ob&longs;erve the &longs;ame Proportions in them as
in the Faces of the
you have only one Moulding, let it be not
more than a fifth, nor le&longs;s than a &longs;eventh Part
of the Breadth of the Leaf. The&longs;e Mouldings
mu&longs;t all fall inward to the Leaf with a Cima
recta. The Length of the Leaf &longs;hould al&longs;o be
divided by other Mouldings cro&longs;sways, giving
the upper Pannel two fifth Parts of the whole
Height of the Door. In Temples the Win
dows mu&longs;t be adorned in the &longs;ame Manner as
the Doors; but their Apertures, being near the
highe&longs;t Part of the Wall, and their Angles ter
minating near the Vault of the Roof, they are
therefore made with an Arch, contrary to the
Practice in Doors. Their Breadth is twice their
Height; and this Breadth is divided by two
little Columns, placed according to the &longs;ame
Rules as in a Portico; only that the&longs;e Columns
are generally &longs;quare. The De&longs;igns for Niches,
Statues or other Repre&longs;entations, are borrowed
from tho&longs;e of Doors; and their Height mu&longs;t
take up one third Part of their Wall. The
Ancients in the Windows of their Temples,
in&longs;tead of Panes of Gla&longs;s, made u&longs;e of thin
tran&longs;parent Scantlings of Alaba&longs;ter, to keep out
Wind and Weather; or el&longs;e made a Grate of
Bra&longs;s or Marble, and filled up the Inter&longs;paces
of this Grate not with brittle Gla&longs;s, but with
a tran&longs;parent Sort of Stone brought from
govia, The Scantlings are &longs;eldom above a
Foot broad, and are of a bright tran&longs;parent
Sort of Plai&longs;ter or Talk, endued by Nature
with a particular Property, namely, that it
never decays.
CHAP. XIII.
noble Ornaments of Temples.
The next chief Point to be con&longs;idered
in the Temple, is fixing the Altar,
where Divine Office is to be performed, which
&longs;hould be in the mo&longs;t honourable Place, and
this &longs;eems to be exactly in the Middle of the
Tribune. The Ancients u&longs;ed to make their
it placed the Statue of their Deity. Whether
or no it be proper to have more Altars for Sa
crifice in a Temple, than one, I &longs;hall leave to
the Judgment of others. Among our Fore
fathers, in the primitive Times of our Religi
on, the devout Chri&longs;tians u&longs;ed to meet toge
ther at the Holy Supper, not to fill their Bodies
with Food, but in order to &longs;often and huma
nize their Manners by frequent Conver&longs;ation
and Communion with each other; and having
filled their Minds with good In&longs;tructions, they
returned every Man to his own Home, warm
ed and inflamed with the Love of Virtue. For
having rather ta&longs;ted than eat the moderate
Portion that was &longs;et before them, they read
and rea&longs;oned upon all Sort of divine Subjects. Every one burnt with Charity towards his
Neighbour, for their common Salvation, and
for the Divine Wor&longs;hip. La&longs;tly, every Man,
according to his Power, paid a Kind of Tax
due to Piety, for the Maintenance of &longs;uch as
truly de&longs;erved it, and the Bi&longs;hop di&longs;tributed
the&longs;e Contributions among &longs;uch as wanted. Thus all Things were common among them,
as among loving Brethren. Afterwards when
Princes con&longs;ented that the&longs;e Duties &longs;hould be per
formed publickly, they did not indeed deviate
much from the In&longs;titution of their Forefathers;
but as greater Numbers came in than before,
the Supper was &longs;till more moderate. The Ser
mons preached in tho&longs;e Times by the learned
Bi&longs;hops, are &longs;till extant in the Writings of the
Fathers. Thus in tho&longs;e Ages they had but
one Altar, where they u&longs;ed to meet to cele
brate only one Sacrifice in a Day. Next &longs;uc
ceeded the&longs;e our Times, which I wi&longs;h to God
&longs;ome worthy Man might ari&longs;e to reform, and
be this &longs;aid without Offence to our Popes, who,
though to keep up their own Dignity, they
hardly &longs;uffer them&longs;elves to be &longs;een by the
People once in a Year, yet have &longs;o crowded
every Place with Altars, and perhaps too with
-------But I &longs;hall venture to &longs;ay no more. This I may venture to affirm, that as there is
nothing in Nature can be imagined more Holy
or Noble than our Sacrifice, &longs;o I believe no
Man of Sen&longs;e can be for having it deba&longs;ed by
being made too common. There are other
Sorts of Ornaments al&longs;o, not fixed, which
&longs;erve to adorn and grace the Sacrifice; and
others of the &longs;ame Nature that embelli&longs;h the
Temple it&longs;elf, the Direction of which belongs
likewife to the Architect. It has been a Que&longs;
tion which is the mo&longs;t beautiful Sight: A large
Square full of Youth employed about their &longs;e
veral Sports; or a Sea full of Ships; or a Field
with a victorious Army drawn out in it; or a
Scnate-hou&longs;e full of venerable Magi&longs;trates; or
a Temple illuminated with a great Number of
chearful Lights? I would de&longs;ire that the Lights
in a Temple &longs;hould have &longs;omewhat of a Maje
&longs;ty in them which is not to be found in the
blinking Tapers that we u&longs;e now-a-days. They
might, indeed, have a good Effect enough if
they were &longs;et in Rows with any thing of a
pretty Regularity, or &longs;tuck all along the Edge
of the Cornice. But I am much better plea&longs;ed
with the Ancients, who on the Top of their
Candle&longs;ticks fixed large Shells in which they
lighted an odoriferous Flame. They divided
the whole Length of the Candle&longs;ticks into &longs;e
ven Parts, two of which they gave to the Ba&longs;e,
which was triangular, and longer than it was
broad , and broader at Botton than
at Top . The Shaft of the Candle
&longs;tick was divided by &longs;everal little Pans placed
one above the other, to catch the Drops that
fell from the upper Shell; and at the Top of
all was that Shell, full of Gums and odoriferous
Woods. We have an Account how much
&longs;weet Balm u&longs;ed to be burnt on every Holy
day in the principal Churches by the Emperor's
Order in
was no le&longs;s than five hundred and four &longs;core
Pounds Weight. And this may &longs;uffice as to
Lamps: Let us now ju&longs;t mention &longs;ome other
Things, which are very noble Ornaments in
Temples. We read that
Temple of the
of ma&longs;&longs;y Gold, which weighed thirty thou&longs;and
Pound Weight; and that at
were Ve&longs;&longs;els of &longs;olid Gold and Silver, each of
which would contain &longs;ix Amphoras, or about
four-and-fifty of our Gallons, among which
there were &longs;ome that were more valued for the
Invention and Workman&longs;hip than for the Me
tal. We are told that in the Temple of
at
with Figures in Steel, &longs;ent by the
a Pre&longs;ent to
hold three hundred Amphoras, or two thou
&longs;and &longs;even hundred Gallons. We read too that
the
iron Cauldron with the Heads of &longs;everal Ani
mals finely wrought upon it, and &longs;upported &longs;e
veral kneeling colo&longs;&longs;al Statues ten Foot and a
half high. It was a wonderful Contrivance of
God
of that God which was continually turning
round to face the Sun. And there was &longs;ome
what yet more wonderful than this in the Tem
ple of
Dart hanging upon nothing. For &longs;uch kind
of Ornaments no other certain Rule can be
given, but that they be &longs;et in decent Places,
where they may be viewed with Wonder and
Reverence.
CHAP. XIV.
wherein they differ from Temples.
It is certain that at fir&longs;t Ba&longs;iliques were no
thing but Places where the Magi&longs;trates u&longs;ed
to meet to admini&longs;ter Ju&longs;tice under Shelter,
and the Tribunal was added to give the greater
Air of Maje&longs;ty to the Structure. Afterwards
in order to enlarge them, the principal Roof
being found not &longs;ufficient, Porticoes were add
ed on each Side, fir&longs;t a &longs;ingle, and in Time a
double one. Others acro&longs;s the Tribunal made
a Nave, which we &longs;hall call the Ju&longs;ticiary Nave,
as being the Place for the Concour&longs;e of the
Notaries, Sollicitors and Advocates, and joined
this Nave to the other I&longs;les after the Manner of
the Letter T. The Porticoes without were
&longs;uppo&longs;ed to be added afterwards for the Con
venience of Servants: So that the Ba&longs;ilique
con&longs;i&longs;ts of Naves or I&longs;les, and of Porticoes: But
as the Ba&longs;ilique &longs;eems to partake of the Na
ture of the Temple, it has claimed mo&longs;t of the
Ornaments belonging to the Temple, but &longs;till
in &longs;uch a Manner as to &longs;eem rather to imitate
than to pretend to equal it in Embelli&longs;hments. It is rai&longs;ed above the Level of the Ground, like
the Temple, but an eighth Part le&longs;s; that &longs;o
it may yield to the Temple, as to the more
honourable Structure: And indeed none of its
other Ornaments mu&longs;t be allowed the &longs;ame So
lemnity as tho&longs;e u&longs;ed in a Temple. Moreover
there is this further Difference between the
Ba&longs;ilique and the Temple, that the I&longs;les in the
former mu&longs;t be clear and open, and its Win
dows per&longs;ectly light&longs;ome, upon account of the
&longs;ometimes tumultuous Crowd of Litigants, and
for the Conveniency of examining and &longs;ub
&longs;cribing to Writings; and it would be very
proper, if it could be &longs;o contrived, that &longs;uch as
came to &longs;eek either their Clients or their Pa
trons, might immediately find them out; For
which Rea&longs;on the Columns ought to be &longs;et at
a greater Di&longs;tance from each other; and there
fore tho&longs;e that &longs;upport Arches are the mo&longs;t
proper, though &longs;uch as bear Architraves are
not to be wholly rejected. Thus we may de
fine the Ba&longs;ilique to be a clear &longs;pacious Walk
covered with a Roof, with Porticoes or I&longs;les on
the In&longs;ide; becau&longs;e that which is without I&longs;les
&longs;eems to me to have more in it of the Court
of Ju&longs;tice or Senate-hou&longs;e, whereof we &longs;hall
&longs;peak in due Time, than of the Ba&longs;ilique. The
Platform of the Ba&longs;ilique &longs;hould be twice as
long as broad; and the chief I&longs;le, which is that
in the Middle, and the cro&longs;s one, which we
have called the Ju&longs;ticiary, &longs;hould be entirely
clear and free for Walkers. If it is to have on
ly one &longs;ingle I&longs;le on each Side, without the
Ju&longs;ticiary Nave, you may order your Propor
tions as follows: Divide the Breadth of the
Platform into nine Parts, whereof five of them
mu&longs;t be allowed to the middle I&longs;le, and two to
each Portico or &longs;ide I&longs;le. The Length too
mu&longs;t be divided into nine Parts, one of which
mu&longs;t be given to the Sweep of the Tribunal,
and two to the Breadth or Entrance into that
Tribunal. But if be&longs;ides the &longs;ide I&longs;le you
would have a Ju&longs;ticiary Nave, then divide the
Breadth of the Platform only into four Parts,
giving two to the middle I&longs;le, and one to each
&longs;ide I&longs;le; and divide the Length as follows:
Give one twelfth Part of it to the Sweep of the
Tribunal, two twelfths and an half to the
Breadth of its Entrance, and let the Breadth of
the Ju&longs;ticiary Nave be the &longs;ixth Part of the
Length of the whole Platform. But if you are
to have not only the Ju&longs;ticiary Nave, but double
I&longs;les be&longs;ides; then divide the Breadth of the
Platform into ten Parts, giving four to the
middle I&longs;le, and three on each Side to be di
vided equally for the &longs;ide I&longs;les, and divide the
Length into twenty Parts, giving one and a
half to the Sweep of the Tribunal, and three
and one third to its Entrance, and allowing on
ly three Parts to the Breadth of the Ju&longs;ticiary
Nave. The Walls of the Ba&longs;ilique need not
be &longs;o thick as tho&longs;e of the Temple; becau&longs;e
of a vaulted Roof, but only a flat one of Sum
mers and Rafters. Let their Thickne&longs;s there
fore be only one twentieth Part of their Height,
and let their Height be only once the Breadth
of the Front and an Half, and never more. At
the Angles of the I&longs;les come out Pila&longs;ters from
the Naked of the Wall, running parallel with,
and on a Line with, the Columns, not le&longs;s than
twice, nor more than three Times the Thick
ne&longs;s of the Wall. Others, &longs;till more to &longs;trength
en the Building, make &longs;uch a Pila&longs;ter in the
Middle of the Row of Columns, in Breadth
three of the Diameters of one the Columns, or
at mo&longs;t four. The Columns them&longs;elves too
mu&longs;t never have the &longs;ame Solidity as tho&longs;e
u&longs;ed in Temples; and therefore, if we make
our Colonades with an Architrave over it, we
may ob&longs;erve the following Rules. If the Co
lumns are to be
Part from their Diameter; if
if As for the Compo&longs;ition of
the other Members, the Capitals, Architrave,
Freze, Cornice, and the like, you may proceed
in the &longs;ame Manner as in Temples.
CHAP. XV.
are to be u&longs;ed in Ba&longs;iliques, and what Cornices, and where they are to be
placed; of the Height and Wedth of Windows and their Gratings; of the
Roofs and Doors of Ba&longs;iliques, and their Ornaments.
Columns that are to have Arches over
them, ought by rights to be &longs;quare; for
if they were round, the Work would not be
true, becau&longs;e the Heads of the Arches would
not lie plum upon the Solid of the Column
underneath; but as much as their Squares ex
ceeded a Circle, &longs;o much of them would hang
over the Void. To remedy this Defect, the
be&longs;t ancient Ma&longs;ters placed over the Capitals
of their Columns another Abacus or Plinth, in
Thickne&longs;s &longs;ometimes one fourth and &longs;ometimes
one fi&longs;th Part of the Diameter of the Column;
the upper Part of this Plinth, which went off
with a Cima-recta, was equal to the greate&longs;t
Breadth of the Top of the Capital, and its Pro
jecture was equal to its Height, &longs;o that by this
means the Heads and Angles of the Arches had
a &longs;uller and firmer Seat. Colonades with
Arches, as well as tho&longs;e with Architraves, are
various, &longs;ome being thinner &longs;et, others clo&longs;er,
and &longs;o on. In the clo&longs;er Sort the Height of
the Void mu&longs;t be three Times and an half the
Breadth of the Aperture; in the thin Set, the
Height mu&longs;t be once the Breadth and two
thirds; in the le&longs;s thin, the Height mu&longs;t be
twice the Breadth; in the clo&longs;e&longs;t of all, the
Breadth mu&longs;t be one third of the Height. We
have formerly ob&longs;erved, that an Arch is no
thing el&longs;e but a Beam bent. We may there
fore give the &longs;ame Ornaments to Arches as to
Architraves, according to the different Sorts of
Columns over which they are turned; be&longs;ides
which, if we would have our Structure very
rich, over the Heads of our Arches we may
run an Architrave, Freze, and Cornice in a
&longs;traight Line, with the &longs;ame Proportions as we
&longs;hould make them over Columns that &longs;hould
reach to that Height. But as the Ba&longs;ilique is
&longs;ometimes encompa&longs;&longs;ed only with one &longs;ingle
I&longs;le, and at other Times with two, the Place of
the Cornice over the Columns and Arches mu&longs;t
vary accordingly. In tho&longs;e which are encom
pa&longs;&longs;ed only with one &longs;ingle Portico, having di
vided the Height of your Wall into nine Parts,
the Cornice mu&longs;t go only to five; or if you
divide it into &longs;even, to four. But in tho&longs;e
which are to have double I&longs;les, the Cornice
mu&longs;t be placed at one third of the Height of
the Wall at lea&longs;t, and at never more than three
eighths. We may al&longs;o over the fir&longs;t Cornice,
as well for the greater Ornament as for real
U&longs;e, place other Columns, and e&longs;pecially Pi
la&longs;ters, directly plum over the Centers of the
Columns which are below them. And this
indeed is of great Service, as it maintains the
Strength and Firmne&longs;s of the Ribs of the Work,
and adds Maje&longs;ty to it, and at the &longs;ame Time
takes off much from the Weight and Expence
of the Wall; and over this upper Colonade
too we make a regular Entablature, according
to the Order of the Columns. In Ba&longs;iliques
with double Side I&longs;les, we may rai&longs;e three Rows
of Columns in this Manner one above another;
but in others we &longs;hould make but two. Where
PLATE 38.
PLATE 39.
PLATE 40.
PLATE 41.
PLATE 42.
PLATE 43.
Space that is between the fir&longs;t Row and the
Roof into two Parts, and in that Divi&longs;ion end
the &longs;econd Cornice. Between the fir&longs;t and &longs;e
cond Cornices, let the Wall be pre&longs;erved en
tire, and adorn it with &longs;ome beautiful Sorts of
Stuc-work; but in the Wall between the &longs;e
cond and the third Cornices, you mu&longs;t make
your Windows for lighting the whole Structure. The Windows in Ba&longs;iliques mu&longs;t be &longs;et exactly
over the Intercolumnations, and an&longs;wer regu
larly to one another. The Breadth of the&longs;e
Windows mu&longs;t not be le&longs;s than three Fourths
of the Intercolumnation, and their Height
may very conveniently be twice their Breadth. Their Head-piece may be upon a Line with
the Top of the Columns, exclu&longs;ive of the Ca
pitals, if the&longs;e Windows be made &longs;quare; but
if they are round, their Arch may come al
mo&longs;t even with the Architrave, and &longs;o lower
as you think fit to dimini&longs;h the Arch; but
they mu&longs;t never ri&longs;e above the Tops of the
Columns. At the Bottom of the Window
mu&longs;t be a Plat-band for a Re&longs;t or Leaning
Place, with a Cima-recta and an Ovolo. The
Open of the Window mu&longs;t be grated, tho' not
paned with &longs;cantling Tale like tho&longs;e of the
Temple; but &longs;till they mu&longs;t have &longs;omething
to keep out Wind and Weather. On the other
Hand, it is nece&longs;&longs;ary to have a free Vent for
the Air, that the Du&longs;t which is rai&longs;ed by the
Peoples Feet may not injure their Eyes and
Lungs; and therefore I think nothing does
better here, than tho&longs;e fine Grates, either of
Bra&longs;s or Lead, with an infinite Number of
&longs;mall Holes di&longs;po&longs;ed in a regular Order, al
mo&longs;t like a Picture, which admit both Light
and Air to refre&longs;h the Spirits. The Roof or Ceil
ing will be extreamly hand&longs;ome, if it is compo&longs;
ed of different Pannels nicely jointed together,
with large Circles, in hand&longs;ome Proportions,
mixed with other Compartments and Angles,
and if tho&longs;e Pannels are &longs;eparated from each
other with flying Cornices, with all their due
Members, and with their Coffits adorned with
carved Work of Gems in Relief, intermixed
with beautiful Flowers, either of the Acanthus
or any other, the Pannels being enriched with
lively Colours, by the Hand of &longs;ome ingeni
ous Painter, which will add a &longs;ingular Grace
to the whole Work.
traordinary Cement for laying Gold upon
Wood-work; which may be made as follows. Mix together &longs;ix Pounds of Sinoper, or Terra
Pontica, and ten Pounds of red Oker, mixed
with two Pounds of Terra Melina or White
Lead, which mu&longs;t be all ground together, and
the pa&longs;t kept full ten Days before it is u&longs;ed. Ma&longs;tic &longs;teept in Lin&longs;eed Oil, and mixed with
Helbic Sinoper or Ruddle well burnt, makes
a Cement or Glue that will hardly ever come
off. The Height of the Door of the Ba&longs;ilique
mu&longs;t be an&longs;werable to that of the I&longs;les. If
there be a Portico on the Out&longs;ide, by Way of
Ve&longs;tibule, it mu&longs;t be of the &longs;ame Height and
Breadth as the I&longs;le within. The Void Cham
branle, and other Members of the Door mu&longs;t
be made after the &longs;ame Rules at the Door of
the Temple; but in a Ba&longs;ilique the Leaf
&longs;hould never be of the Bra&longs;s. But you may
make it of Cypre&longs;s, Cedar, or any other fine
Wood, and enrich it with Bo&longs;&longs;es of Bra&longs;s, con
triving the Whole rather for Strength than
Delicacy: Or if you would have it beautiful
or noble, do not embeli&longs;h it with any minute
Ornaments in Imitation of Painting, but adorn
it with &longs;ome Relieve, not too high rai&longs;ed,
that may make the Work look hand&longs;ome, and
not to be too liable to be injured. Some have
of late begun to build Ba&longs;iliques circular. In
the&longs;e the Height in the Middle mu&longs;t be equal
to the Breadth of the whole Structure; but
the Porticoes, Colonades, Doors and Windows
mu&longs;t be in the &longs;ame Proportions as in the
&longs;quare Ba&longs;ilique. Of this Subject &longs;ufficient has
been &longs;aid.
CHAP. XVI.
Events.
I come now to &longs;peak of Monuments erected
for pre&longs;erving the Memory of great Events;
and here by Way of Relief I &longs;hall take the
Liberty to unbend my&longs;elf a little from that In
ten&longs;ene&longs;s and Dryne&longs;s which is nece&longs;&longs;ary in
tho&longs;e Parts of this Work which turn altogether
upon Numbers and Proportions: However,
I &longs;hall take Care not to be too prolix. Our
mies, they were endeavouring with all their
Power to enlarge the Confines of their Em
pire, u&longs;ed to &longs;et up Statues and Terms to mark
the Cour&longs;e of their Victories, and to di&longs;tingui&longs;h
the Limits of their Conque&longs;ts. This was the
Origin of Pyramids, Obelisks, and the like
Monuments for the Di&longs;tinction of Limits. Afterwards being willing to make &longs;ome Ac
knowledgment to the Gods for the Victories
which they had gained, they dedicated Part of
their Plunder to Heaven, and con&longs;ecrated the
publick Rejoycings to Religion. This gave
Ri&longs;e to Altars, Chapels, and other Monuments
nece&longs;&longs;ary for their Purpo&longs;es. They were al&longs;o
de&longs;irous of eternizing their Memory to Po&longs;te
rity, and of making even their Per&longs;ons, as well
as Virtues known to future Ages. This pro
duced Trophies, Spoils, Statues, In&longs;criptions,
and the like Inventions for propagating the
Fame of great Exploits. People of lower Rank
too, tho' not eminent for any particular Ser
vice done their Country, but only for their
Wealth or Pro&longs;perity, were fond of imitating
the &longs;ame Practice, in which many different
Methods have been taken. The Terms erected
by
and great Trees with their Trunks encom
pa&longs;&longs;ed with Ivy. At
large Altar, which was &longs;et up by the
nauts,
Voyage.
ver
Va&longs;e of Bra&longs;s, &longs;ix Inches thick, which would
contain &longs;ix hundred * Amphoras.
near the River
Ocean, erected twelve Altars of prodigious large
&longs;quare Stones, and near the
all the Space of Ground which his Army took
up in its Encampment, with a Wall which
was &longs;even Miles and an half in Compa&longs;s.
ry&longs;ia,
his Soldiers to throw each of them one Stone
in different Heaps, which being very large
and numerous, might fill Po&longs;terity with A&longs;
toni&longs;hment.
Obelisk with hand&longs;ome In&longs;criptions, in Ho
nour of tho&longs;e who made a brave Re&longs;i&longs;tance
again&longs;t him; but tho&longs;e who &longs;ubmitted ba&longs;ely
he branded with Infamy, by &longs;etting up Obe
lisks and Columns with the Pudenda of a Wo
man carved upon them.
Countries thro' which he pa&longs;&longs;ed, erected
Temples in his own Honour, which we are
told were all demoli&longs;hed by
Intent, that no Memorial might any where
remain but that of The&longs;e were
Monuments erected during the Expeditions
them&longs;elves; others, &longs;uch as follow, were rai&longs;ed
after the Victory obtained, and the Conque&longs;t
compleated. In the Temple of
DiligentThe
ans
Stone with which the
King of
a God. The
Temple the Beaks of the Ships which they
took from their Enemies. In Imitation of
them
tians,
their Ships; which were afterwards removed
to the Capitol by the Emperor
lius Cæ&longs;ar
Sort, one upon the Ro&longs;trum, and the other
before the Senate, upon defeating the
giniansWhy need I
mention that infinite Number of Towers,
Temples, Obelisks, Pyramids, Labyrinths, and
the like Works which we read of in Hi&longs;tori
ans? I &longs;hall only ob&longs;erve, that this De&longs;ire of
perpetuating their Names by &longs;uch Structures,
ro&longs;e to &longs;uch a Pitch among the Heroes of old,
that they even built Towns for no other Pur
po&longs;e, calling them by their own Names to de
liver them down to Po&longs;terity.
to mention many others, be&longs;ides tho&longs;e Cities
which he built in Honour of his own Name,
went &longs;o far as to build one after the Name of his
Hor&longs;e But in my Opinion, what
defeated
built the City
very Place where he had been Conqueror. But
&longs;or he built three Cities in Honour of his
Wife, and called them
nour of his Mother, by the Name of
nine called
Name; and ten in Memory of his Father,
which were called Others have made
them&longs;elves famous to Po&longs;terity, not &longs;o much
by Magnificence and Expence, as by &longs;ome par
ticular new Invention.
of the Laurel which he had worn in Triumph,
planted a Grove which he con&longs;ecrated to fu
ture Triumphers. Near
of
his lower like a Fi&longs;h; who was thus honoured,
becau&longs;e from that Place he threw him&longs;elf into
the Lake: And if any
Fi&longs;h that was in it, he was looked upon as ex
communicate. The
deneze,
a Serpent, becau&longs;e by her Means they fancied
them&longs;elves freed from tho&longs;e Animals. Of the
&longs;ame Nature was
Io
related in the Ver&longs;es of the ancient Poets;
with which Inventions I am very much de
lighted, provided &longs;ome virtuous Precept
be contained in them; as in that Symbol
which was carved upon
in which was a Judge &longs;urrounded by &longs;ome
other chief Magi&longs;trates cloathed in the Habits
of Prie&longs;ts, and from their Necks hung down
upon their Brea&longs;ts the Image of Truth with
her Eyes clos'd, and &longs;eeming to nod her Head
towards them. In the Middle was a Heap of
Books, with this In&longs;cription upon it: This is
the true Phy&longs;ick of the Mind.
BUT the Invention of Statues was the mo&longs;t
excellent of all, as they are a noble Ornament
for all Sorts of Structures, whether &longs;acred or
profane, publick or private, and pre&longs;erve a
wonderful Repre&longs;entation both of Per&longs;ons and
Actions. Whatever great Genius it was that
invented Statues, it is thought they owe their
Beginning to the &longs;ame Nation as the Religion
of the ancient
by &longs;ome &longs;aid to be made by the
Others are of Opinion, that the
Gods, which being formed according to cer
tain magical Rules, had Power to bring up
Clouds and Rain, and other Meteors, and to
change them&longs;elves into the Shapes of different
Animals. Among the
Son of
Statues of the Gods to the Temple. We are
informed by
were placed in the publick Forum of
were tho&longs;e of
were the fir&longs;t Deliverers of the City from Ty
ranny; and
the&longs;e very Statues were &longs;ent back again to
xesThe Number of Sta
tues was &longs;o great at
ed a Marble People.
of the Height of eight-and-forty Foot.
&longs;et up a Statue near
Po&longs;ture, which was forty-&longs;even Foot long, and
in its Pede&longs;tal were two others, each twenty
Foot high. In the Sepulchre of
three Statues of
wonderful Workman&longs;hip, being all cut out of
one &longs;ingle Stone, whereof one, which was in a
&longs;itting Po&longs;ture, was &longs;o large, that only its Foot
was above &longs;even Foot and an Half long; and
what was extremely &longs;urprizing in it, be&longs;ides the
Skill of the Arti&longs;t, in all that huge Stone there
was not the lea&longs;t Spot or Flaw. Others after
wards, when they could not find Stones large
enough to make Statues of the Size which they
de&longs;ired, made u&longs;e of Bra&longs;s, and formed &longs;ome of
no le&longs;s than an hundred Cubits, or an hundred
and fifty Foot high. But the greate&longs;t Work
we read of in this Kind, was that of
who not being able to find any Stone large
enough for her Purpo&longs;e, and being re&longs;olved to
make &longs;omething much bigger than was po&longs;&longs;ible
to be done with Bra&longs;s, contrived near a Moun
tain in
Image carved out of a Rock of two Miles and
a furlong in Length, with the Figures of an
hundred Men offering Sacrifice to her, hewn
out of the &longs;ame Stone. There is one Particu
lar relating to this Article of Statues, mention
ed by
which is, that the
arrived at &longs;uch a Pitch of Skill in their Art, that
they would out of &longs;everal Stones in &longs;everal dif
ferent Places make one Statue, which when
put together &longs;hould &longs;eem to be all the Work
of one Hand; in which &longs;urprizing Manner we
are told the Statue of the
by The&longs;e Things I thought it not ami&longs;s
to write here by way of Recreation, which,
though very u&longs;eful in them&longs;elves, are here in
&longs;erted only as an Introduction to the follow
ing Book, where we &longs;hall treat of the Monu
ments rai&longs;ed by private Per&longs;ons; to which
they properly belong. For as private Men have
&longs;carce &longs;uffered even Princes to outdo them in
Greatne&longs;s of Expence for perpetuating their
Memories, but being equally fired with the
De&longs;ire of making their Names famous, have
&longs;pared for no Co&longs;t which their Fortunes would
Arti&longs;ts for their Purpo&longs;e; they have accord
ingly rivalled the greate&longs;t Kings in fine De&longs;igns
and noble Compo&longs;itions, &longs;o as, in my Opinion,
to be very little, if at all, inferior to them. But
tho&longs;e Works are re&longs;erved for the next Book,
in which I dare promi&longs;e the Reader he &longs;hall
find &longs;ome Entertainment worth his Pains. But
fir&longs;t we are here to &longs;peak of &longs;ome few Particu
lars nece&longs;&longs;ary to our pre&longs;ent Subject.
CHAP. XVII.
mo&longs;t proper for making them.
Some are again&longs;t placing any Statues in
Temples; and we are told that
being a Di&longs;ciple of
none: And
trymen upon this Account; we play with Ba
bies, &longs;ays he, like Children. The Ancients,
who were of this Opinion, u&longs;ed to argue con
cerning the Gods in the following Manner:
Who can be &longs;o weak as not to know, that every
Thing relating to the Gods is to be con&longs;idered
with the Mind, and not with the Eyes, &longs;ince it
is impo&longs;&longs;ible to give them any Form that can
be in the lea&longs;t Degree an&longs;werable to the Ex
cellence of their Nature? And indeed they
thought that the having no vi&longs;ible Repre&longs;enta
tions of them made by Hands, mu&longs;t have a
very good Effect, as it would put every Man
upon forming &longs;uch an Idea of the fir&longs;t Mover,
and of the &longs;upreme Intelligence, as be&longs;t &longs;uited
his own Capacity and Way of Thinking: By
which he would be the more induced to revere
the Maje&longs;ty of the Divine Name. Others
thought quite differently, holding, that the
Gods were repre&longs;ented under human Forms to
a very wi&longs;e End, and that they had a very good
Influence upon the Minds and Morals of the
Vulgar, who when they approached tho&longs;e Sta
tues, imagined they were in the Pre&longs;ence of
the Gods them&longs;elves. Others e&longs;pecially were
for &longs;etting up to publick View in con&longs;ecrated
Places, the Effigies of &longs;uch as had de&longs;erved well
of Mankind, and were therefore &longs;uppo&longs;ed to be
admitted among the Gods, believing it mu&longs;t
in&longs;pire Po&longs;terity, when they came to wor&longs;hip
them, with a Love of Glory, and an Emulati
on of their Virtue. It is certainly a Point of
great Importance what Statues we &longs;et up, e&longs;
pecially in Temples, as al&longs;o whereabouts, in
what Number, and of what Materials: For no
ridiculous Figures are to be admitted here, as
of the God
Gardens to &longs;care away the Birds; nor of fight
ing Soldiers, as in Porticoes, or the like; nei
ther do I think they &longs;hould be placed in clo&longs;e
Nooks and mean Corners. But fir&longs;t let us treat
of the Materials with which they &longs;hould be
made, and then proceed to the other Points. Of old, &longs;ays
Images of Wood; as was that of
los;
of
to have remained perfectly clear of the lea&longs;t
Corruption. Of the &longs;ame Sort was that of the
but
who built t