_THE VISIT TO THE BUILDING._
The building was beginning to assume a definite shape; the plan
was becoming visible above the ground. About twenty masons and
stonecutters, four carpenters and their helpers, enlivened this quarter
of the neighbourhood. Carts filled with bricks, sand and lime, were
coming in. Two timber-sawyers were cutting up trunks of trees into
planks; a small movable forge had been lighted under the shelter of a
clump of trees, and was used for repairing tools, with the prospect of
being called into requisition for forging iron straps, cramps, bands,
and lintel bars. A beautiful autumnal sun was shedding a warm but
subdued light on the busy scene. This spectacle succeeded in effacing
from Paul’s mind the gloomy impression left by his father’s words.
Under this aspect work did not seem to him invested with that harsh
and rugged form which had at first somewhat scared our holiday pupil.
Paul proceeded therefore to follow his cousin over the ground as an
attentive clerk of works (Fig. 35), listening with great care to his
observations.
“Here is a stone, Master Branchu,” said Eugène, “which must not be put
in; it has a flaw, and as it would be a lintel, it must be rejected.”
“But, sir, the flaw doesn’t go far.”
“Far or not, I disallow it,—do you understand? Paul, you will take
care that it be not laid.... Observe this little chink that is barely
visible; strike the stone with this hammer on both sides. Just so; the
ring of the stone is dull on this side; well, that proves to you that
it is not sound, and with the help of the frost this piece on the right
side will separate from its neighbour.... Here are some bricks that you
will not let them use: see how cracked they are; these white spots too
... they are particles of limestone which the fire has converted into
lime. When the damp acts upon them these particles of lime swell and
burst the brick. You must take care before allowing bricks to be used
to have them well moistened. Those which contain portions of lime will
fall to pieces and so will not be used.”
“But, my good sir,” said Branchu, “it isn’t my fault; the bricks are
not my business.”
“No; but it is your business to send back those that are defective to
the brickmaker, and not to pay him for them, since you have undertaken
to get them supplied; that will teach him to clear his ground
thoroughly of bits of limestone. There is some sand with clay in it,
see how it sticks to one’s fingers! Master Branchu, I must have none
but good coarse sand; you know well where that is to be got. This has
been taken from the edge of the pit; it is good for nothing but to be
put in the haunches of the cellar vaults for filling up; do not allow
it to be used in the mortar—you understand, Paul! Mortar requires well
granulated clean sand, the grains of which do not adhere to each other;
and observe,—before using it have a few bucketfuls of water thrown on
the heap. Take care, too, that the mortar is not mixed on the ground,
but on a wood platform. You have done so hitherto, that is quite right;
but take care that it is never made in any other way; if you are in a
hurry for it, and one platform is not enough, have two. Be very careful
too, Paul, to see that the stones are all well bedded in mortar.”
“Oh! you needn’t trouble yourself, sir, I never do otherwise.”
“Yes, I know very well, that for basements and hard stone this is
pretty sure to be attended to; but higher up your workmen are very
apt to lay the stones on wedges and run the beds with liquid mortar,
which is easier. Be very careful about this, Paul. All the stones ought
to be laid over their place, on thick wedges, leaving a void of two
and a half to three inches; the mortar ought to be spread below over
the whole surface, and be about three-quarters of an inch thick; then
take away the four wedges, and the stone settling down on the mortar,
it must be struck with a great wooden beetle till the joint is only
three-eighths of an inch everywhere, and the surplus mortar is pressed
out all round——”
“Here are some hollow beds, Master Branchu; you must have them
re-dressed.”
“What is a hollow bed?” said Paul to his cousin, in a whisper.
[Illustration: FIG. 36.]
“It is a concave bed surface of a stone,” replied Eugène, and added,
taking his note-book:
“Here (Fig. 36), you can understand that if the bed of a stone presents
the section A B, the middle C being more hollow than the edges, the
stone in question rests on the latter only; consequently if the
pressure is considerable the corners D E split off; we then say that
the stone is _flushed_. It is better that the surfaces should be made
as sketched at G, and should not rest upon their edges.
“Till now, Master Branchu, you have been raising your building by means
of runs or inclined planes, but we are getting high; we shall soon want
scaffolding.
“As we are building with range-work, using dressed stone above the
plinth only at the angles, and for the door and window casings, you
will leave scaffolding holes between these wall stones. Then you will
only want scaffolding-poles and put-logs. For raising the material the
carpenter is going to make you a hoist, and you will employ the crab
which I shall have sent from Chateauroux, where I have no use for it
just now.”
“If it’s the same to you, sir, I prefer our machine.”
“What!... your wheel concern, in which you put a couple of men like
squirrels?”
“Yes.”
“Well, as you like; nevertheless I mean to send for the crab; you shall
try it.”
“In fact,” said Eugène aside to Paul, “his _machine_, which dates, I
believe, from the Tower of Babel, raises the loads, when they are not
too heavy, much more easily than our winches; and as we have no very
heavy stones to raise, we will not oppose his wishes on this point.”
And turning to the master mason:
“It is a settled matter, Master Branchu, that we do not allow any
after-dressing, except for some very delicate mouldings or chamfers if
occasion requires; you will set your stones completely dressed with
only here and there a little thickness to be worked off.”
“Certainly, Mr. Architect, certainly; I would rather build like that.”
“So much the better, I am glad of it.” And addressing Paul: “I know
nothing more injurious than the custom that prevails in some great
cities of after-dressing buildings. Rough blocks are laid; then
when all is built, up they go and cut, pare, sink, scrape, mould,
and carve these shapeless masses, most frequently regardless of the
jointing; without considering that they thus take away, especially
from soft stone, that hard crust which it forms on its surface when
newly cut on leaving the quarry, and which resists the inclemency of
the weather; a crust which is never formed again when the materials
have once produced it and have thrown off what is called their
_quarry-damp_. Happily, in many of our provinces the excellent custom
has been retained of cutting each stone on the ground, once for all,
in that form which it is permanently to keep; and when once laid, the
stone-cutter’s tool does not touch it again. Independently of the
advantage I have just pointed out to you, this method requires more
care and attention on the part of the dressers, and it is not possible
then to put the beds and joints anywhere at random. Each stone, on this
plan, has its proper destination, and consequently the form suitable
to its place. Lastly, when a building is once raised, it is finished:
there is no occasion to do anything more to it. I must add, that this
method requires on the part of the architect, a complete and finished
study of each part of the work at every stage in his arrangement of the
parts of the structure.”