being, as I think, one that will go well in almost any wind, and is
applicable at any part of the roof. It is also roughly built, consisting
of a roof of loose stones, sometimes one large flat slab, supported
above the flue by four large supports, each of a single stone. It is
rather light in its appearance, and breaks the ridge of a roof very
agreeably. Separately considered, it is badly proportioned; but, as it
just equals the height to which a long chimney at the extremity of the
building would rise above the roof (as in a), it is quite right _in
situ_, and would be ungainly if it were higher. The upper part is always
dark, owing to the smoke, and tells agreeably against any background
seen through the hollow.
69. Fig. _c_ is the chimney of the Westmoreland cottage which formed the
subject of the last paper. The good taste which prevailed in the rest of
the building is not so conspicuous here, because the architect has begun
to consider effect instead of utility, and has put a diamond-shaped
piece of ornament on the front (usually containing the date of the
building), which was not necessary, and looks out of place. He has
endeavored to build neatly too, and has bestowed a good deal of plaster
on the outside, by all which circumstances the work is infinitely
deteriorated. We have always disliked cylindrical chimneys, probably
because they put us in mind of glasshouses and manufactories, for we are
aware of no more definite reason; yet this example is endurable, and has
a character about it which it would be a pity to lose. Sometimes when
the square part is carried down the whole front of the cottage, it looks
like the remains of some gray tower, and is not felt to be a chimney at
all. Such deceptions are always very dangerous, though in this case
sometimes attended with good effect, as in the old building called
Coniston Hall, on the shores of Coniston Water, whose distant outline
(Fig. 8) is rendered light and picturesque, by the size and shape of its
chimneys, which are the same in character as Fig. _c_.
[Illustration: FIG. 8. Coniston Hall, from the Lake near Brantwood
(1837).]
70. Of English chimneys adapted for buildings of a more elevated
character, we can adduce no good examples. The old red brick mass, which
we see in some of our venerable manor-houses, has a great deal of
English character about it, and is always agreeable, when the rest of
the building is of brick. Fig. _p_ is a chimney of this kind: there is
nothing remarkable in it; it is to be met with all over England; but we
have placed it beside its neighbor _q_ to show how the same form and
idea are modified by the mind of the nations who employ it. The design
is the same in both, the proportions also; but the one is a chimney, the
other a paltry model of a paltrier edifice. Fig. _q_ is Swiss, and is
liable to all the objections advanced against the Swiss cottages; it is
a despicable mimicry of a large building, like the tower in the
engraving of the Italian cottage (§ 31), carved in stone, it is true,
but not the less to be reprobated. Fig. _p_, on the contrary, is adapted
to its use, and has no affectation about it. It would be spoiled,
however, if built in stone; because the marked bricks tell us the size
of the whole at once, and prevent the eye from suspecting any intention
to deceive it with a mockery of arches and columns, the imitation of
which would be too perfect in stone; and therefore, even in this case,
we have failed in discovering a chimney adapted to the higher class of
edifices.
71. Fig. _d_ is a Netherland chimney, _e_ and _f_ German. Fig. _d_
belongs to an old Gothic building in Malines, and is a good example of
the application of the same lines to the chimney which occur in other
parts of the edifice, without bestowing any false elevation of
character. It is roughly carved in stone, projecting at its base
grotesquely from the roof, and covered at the top. The pointed arch, by
which its character is given, prevents it from breaking in upon the
lines of the rest of the building, and, therefore, in reality renders it
less conspicuous than it would otherwise have been. We should never have
noticed its existence, had we not been looking out for chimneys.
72. Fig. _e_ is also carved in stone, and where there is much variety of
architecture, or where the buildings are grotesque, would be a good
chimney, for the very simple reason, that it resembles nothing but a
chimney, and its lines are graceful. Fig. _f_, though ugly in the
abstract, might be used with effect in situations where perfect
simplicity would be too conspicuous; but both _e_ and _f_ are evidently
the awkward efforts of a tasteless nation, to produce something
original: they have lost the chastity which we admired in _a_, without
obtaining the grace and spirit of _l_ and _o_. In fact, they are
essentially German.
73. Figs. _h_ to _m_, inclusive, are Spanish, and have a peculiar
character, which would render it quite impossible to employ them out of
their own country. Yet they are not decorated chimneys. There is not one
fragment of ornament on any of them. All is done by variety of form; and
with such variety no fault can be found, because it is necessary to give
them the character of the buildings, out of which they rise. For we may
observe here, once for all, that character may be given either by form
or by decoration, and that where the latter is improper, variety of form
is allowable, because the humble associations which render ornament
objectionable, also render simplicity of form unnecessary.[13] We need
not then find fault with _fantastic_ chimneys, provided they are kept in
unison with the rest of the building, and do not draw too much
attention.
[Footnote 13: Elevation of character, as was seen in the Italian
cottage, depends upon simplicity of form.]
74. Fig. _h_, according to this rule, is a very good chimney. It is
graceful without pretending, and its grotesqueness will suit the
buildings round it--we wish we could give them: they are at Cordova.
Figs. _k_ and _l_ ought to be seen, as they would be in reality, rising
brightly up against the deep blue heaven of the south, the azure
gleaming through their hollows; unless perchance a slight breath of
refined, pure, pale vapor finds its way from time to time out of them
into the light air; their tiled caps casting deep shadows on their
white surfaces, and their _tout ensemble_ causing no interruption to
the feelings excited by the Moresco arches and grotesque dwelling houses
with which they would be surrounded; they are sadly spoiled by being cut
off at their bases.
75. Figs. _g_, _n_, _o_ are Italian. Fig. _g_ has only been given,
because it is constantly met with among the more modern buildings of
Italy. Figs. _n_ and _o_ are almost the only two varieties of chimneys
which are to be found on the old Venetian palaces (whose style is to be
traced partly to the Turk, and partly to the Moor). The curved lines of
_n_ harmonize admirably with those of the roof itself, and its
diminutive size leaves the simplicity of form of the large building to
which it belongs entirely uninterrupted and uninjured. Fig. _o_ is seen
perpetually carrying the whiteness of the Venetian marble up into the
sky; but it is too tall, and attracts by far too much attention, being
conspicuous on the sides of all the canals.
76. Figs. _q_, _r_, _s_ are Swiss. Fig. _r_ is one specimen of an
extensive class of decorated chimneys, met with in the northeastern
cantons. It is never large, and consequently having no false elevation
of character, and being always seen with eyes which have been prepared
for it, by resting on the details of the Swiss cottage, is less
disagreeable than might be imagined, but ought never to be imitated. The
pyramidal form is generally preserved, but the design is the same in no
two examples.
Fig. _s_ is a chimney very common in the eastern cantons, the principle
of which we never understood. The oblique part moves on a hinge, so as
to be capable of covering the chimney like a hat; and the whole is
covered with wooden scales, like those of a fish. This chimney sometimes
comes in very well among the confused rafters of the mountain cottage,
though it is rather too remarkable to be in good taste.
77. It seems then, that out of the eighteen chimneys, which we have
noticed, though several possess character, and one or two elegance, only
two are to be found fit for imitation; and, of these, one is exclusively
a _cottage_ chimney. This is somewhat remarkable and may serve as a
proof:--
First, of what we at first asserted, that chimneys which in any way
attract notice (and if these had not, we should not have sketched them)
were seldom to be imitated; that there are few buildings which require
them to be singular, and none which can tolerate them if decorated; and
that the architect should always remember that the size and height being
by necessity fixed, the form which draws least attention is the best.
78. Secondly, that this inconspicuousness is to be obtained, not by
adhering to any model of simplicity, but by taking especial care that
the lines of the chimney are no interruption, and its color no contrast,
to those of the building to which it belongs. Thus Figs. _h_ to _m_
would be far more actually remarkable in their natural situation, if
they were more simple in their form; for they would interrupt the
character of the rich architecture by which they are surrounded. Fig.
_d_, rising as it does above an old Gothic window, would have attracted
instant attention, had it not been for the occurrence of the same lines
in it which prevail beneath it. The form of _n_ only assimilates it more
closely with the roof on which it stands. But we must not _imitate_
chimneys of this kind, for their excellence consists only in their
agreement with other details, separated from which they would be
objectionable; we can only follow the principle of the design, which
appears, from all that we have advanced, to be this: we require, in a
good chimney, _the character of the building to which it belongs
divested of all its elevation, and its prevailing lines, deprived of all
their ornament_.
79. This it is, no doubt, excessively difficult to give; and, in
consequence, there are very few cities or edifices in which the chimneys
are not objectionable. We must not, therefore, omit to notice the
fulfillment of our expectations, founded on English character. The only
two chimneys fit for imitation, in the whole eighteen, are English; and
we would not infer anything from this, tending to invalidate the
position formerly advanced, that there was no taste in England; but we
would adduce it as a farther illustration of the rule, that what is most
adapted to its purpose is most beautiful. For that we have no taste,
even in chimneys, is sufficiently proved by the roof effects, even of
the most ancient, unaffected, and unplastered of our streets, in which
the chimneys, instead of assisting in the composition of the groups of
roofs, stand out in staring masses of scarlet and black, with foxes and
cocks whisking about, like so many little black devils, in the smoke on
the top of them, interrupting all repose, annihilating all dignity, and
awaking every possible conception which would be picturesque, and every
imagination which would be rapturous, to the mind of master-sweeps.
80. On the other hand, though they have not on the Continent the same
knowledge of the use and beauty of chimneys in the abstract, they
display their usual good taste in grouping, or concealing them; and,
whether we find them mingling with the fantastic domiciles of the
German, with the rich imaginations of the Spaniard, with the classical
remains and creations of the Italian, they are never intrusive or
disagreeable; and either assist the grouping, and relieve the
horizontality of the lines of the roof, or remain entirely unnoticed and
insignificant, smoking their pipes in peace.
81. It is utterly impossible to give rules for the attainment of these
effects, since they are the result of a feeling of the proportion and
relation of lines, which, if not natural to a person, cannot be
acquired, but by long practice and close observation; and it presupposes
a power rarely bestowed on an English architect, of setting regularity
at defiance, and sometimes comfort out of the question. We could give
some particular examples of this grouping; but, as this paper has
already swelled to an unusual length, we shall defer them until we come
to the consideration of street effects in general. Of the chimney in the
abstract, we are afraid we have only said enough to illustrate, without
removing, the difficulty of designing it; but we cannot but think that
the general principles which have been deduced, if carefully followed
out, would be found useful, if not for the attainment of excellence, at
least for the prevention of barbarism.
OXFORD, _Feb. 10, [1838]._
VI.
THE COTTAGE--CONCLUDING REMARKS.
"Nunquam aliud Natura, aliud Sapientia, dicit."
_Juvenal_ xiv. 321.
82. It now only remains for us to conclude the subject of the cottage,
by a few general remarks on the just application of modern buildings to
adorn or vivify natural scenery.
There are, we think, only three cases in which the cottage is considered
as an element of architectural, or any other kind of beauty, since it is
ordinarily raised by the peasant where he likes, and how he likes; and,
therefore, as we have seen, frequently in good taste.
83. I. When a nobleman, or man of fortune, amuses himself with
superintending the erection of the domiciles of his domestics. II. When
ornamental summer-houses, or mimicries of wigwams, are to be erected as
ornamental adjuncts to a prospect which the owner has done all he can to
spoil, that it may be worthy of the honor of having him to look at it.
III. When the landlord exercises a certain degree of influence over the
cottages of his tenants, or the improvements of the neighboring village,
so as to induce such a tone of feeling in the new erections as he may
think suitable to the situation.
84. In the first of these cases, there is little to be said; for the
habitation of the domestic is generally a dependent feature of his
master's, and, therefore, to be considered as a part of it. Porters'
lodges are also dependent upon, and to be regulated by, the style of the
architecture to which they are attached; and they are generally well
managed in England, properly united with the gate, and adding to the
effect of the entrance.
In the second case, as the act is in itself a barbarism, it would be
useless to consider what would be the best mode of perpetrating it.
In the third case, we think it will be useful to apply a few general
principles, deduced from positions formerly advanced.
85. All buildings are, of course, to be considered in connection with
the country in which they are to be raised. Now, all landscape must
possess one out of four distinct characters.
It must be either woody, the green country; cultivated, the blue
country; wild, the gray country; or hilly, the brown country.
I. The Woody, or green, Country. By this is to be understood the mixture
of park, pasture, and variegated forest, which is only to be seen in
temperate climates, and in those parts of a kingdom which have not often
changed proprietors, but have remained in unproductive beauty (or at
least, furnishing timber only), the garden of the wealthier population.
It is to be seen in no other country, perhaps, so well as in England. In
other districts, we find extensive masses of black forest, but not the
mixture of sunny glade, and various foliage, and dewy sward, which we
meet with in the richer park districts of England. This kind of country
is always surgy, oceanic, and massy, in its outline: it never affords
blue distances, unless seen from a height; and, even then, the nearer
groups are large, and draw away the attention from the background. The
under soil is kept cool by the shade, and its vegetation rich; so that
the prevailing color, except for a few days at the fall of the leaf, is
a fresh green. A good example of this kind of country is the view from
Richmond Hill.
86. Now, first, let us consider what sort of feeling this green country
excites; and, in order to do so, be it observed, that anything which is
apparently enduring and unchangeable gives us an impression rather of
future, than of past, duration of existence; but anything which being
perishable, and from its nature subject to change, has yet existed to a
great age, gives us an impression of antiquity, though, of course, none
of stability. A mountain, for instance (not geologically speaking, for
then the furrows on its brow give it age as visible as was ever wrinkled
on human forehead, but considering it as it appears to ordinary eyes),
appears to be beyond the influence of change: it does not put us in mind
of its past existence, by showing us any of the effect of time upon
itself; we do not feel that it is old, because it is not approaching any
kind of death; it is a mass of unsentient undecaying matter, which, if
we think about it, we discover must have existed for some time, but
which does not tell this fact to our feelings, or, rather, which tells
us of no time at which it came into existence; and therefore, gives us
no standard by which to measure its age, which, unless measured, cannot
be distinctly felt. But a very old forest tree is a thing subject to the
same laws of nature as ourselves: it is an energetic being, liable to an
approaching death; its age is written on every spray; and, because we
see it is susceptible of life and annihilation, like our own, we imagine
it must be capable of the same feelings, and possess the same faculties,
and, above all others, memory: it is always telling us about the past,
never pointing to the future; we appeal to it, as to a thing which has
seen and felt during a life similar to our own, though of ten times its
duration, and therefore receive from it a perpetual impression of
antiquity. So again a ruined town gives us an impression of antiquity;
the stones of which it is built, none; for their age is not written upon
them.
87. This being the case, it is evident that the chief feeling induced by
woody country is one of reverence for its antiquity. There is a quiet
melancholy about the decay of the patriarchal trunks, which is enhanced
by the green and elastic vigor of the young saplings; the noble form of
the forest aisles, and the subdued light which penetrates their
entangled boughs, combine to add to the impression; and the whole
character of the scene is calculated to excite conservative feeling.
The man who could remain a radical in a wood country is a disgrace to
his species.
88. Now, this feeling of mixed melancholy and veneration is the one of
all others which the modern cottage must not be allowed to violate. It
may be fantastic or rich in detail; for the one character will make it
look old-fashioned, and the other will assimilate with the intertwining
of leaf and bough around it: but it must not be spruce, or natty, or
very bright in color; and the older it looks the better.
A little grotesqueness in form is the more allowable, because the
imagination is naturally active in the obscure and indefinite daylight
of wood scenery; conjures up innumerable beings, of every size and
shape, to people its alleys and smile through its thickets; and is by no
means displeased to find some of its inventions half-realized in a
decorated panel or grinning extremity of a rafter.
89. These characters being kept in view, as objects to be attained, the
remaining considerations are technical.
For the form. Select any well-grown group of the tree which prevails
most near the proposed site of the cottage. Its summit will be a rounded
mass. Take the three principal points of its curve: namely, its apex and
the two points where it unites itself with neighboring masses. Strike a
circle through these three points; and the angle contained in the
segment cut off by a line joining the two lower points is to be the
angle of the cottage roof. (Of course we are not thinking of interior
convenience: the architect must establish his mode of beauty first, and
then approach it as nearly as he can.) This angle will generally be very
obtuse; and this is one reason why the Swiss cottage is always beautiful
when it is set among walnut or chestnut trees. Its obtuse roof is just
about the true angle. With pines or larches, the angle should not be
regulated by the form of the tree, but by the slope of the branches. The
building itself should be low and long, so that, if possible, it may not
be seen all at once, but may be partially concealed by trunks or leafage
at various distances.
90. For the color, that of wood is always beautiful. If the wood of the
near trees be used, so much the better; but the timbers should be
rough-hewn, and allowed to get weather-stained. Cold colors will not
suit with green; and, therefore, slated roofs are disagreeable, unless,
as in the Westmoreland cottage, the gray roof is warmed with lichenous
vegetation, when it will do well with anything; but thatch is better. If
the building be not of wood, the walls may be built of anything which
will give them a quiet and unobtruding warmth of tone. White, if in
shade, is sometimes allowable; but, if visible at any point more than
200 yards off, it will spoil the whole landscape. In general, as we saw
before, the building will bear some fantastic finishing, that is, if it
be entangled in forest; but, if among massive groups of trees, separated
by smooth sward, it must be kept simple.
91. II. The Cultivated, or blue, Country. This is the rich champaign
land, in which large trees are more sparingly scattered, and which is
chiefly devoted to the purposes of agriculture. In this we are
perpetually getting blue distances from the slightest elevation, which
are rendered more decidedly so by their contrast with warm corn or
plowed fields in the foreground. Such is the greater part of England.
The view from the hills of Malvern is a good example. In districts of
this kind, all is change; one year's crop has no memory of its
predecessor; all is activity, prosperity, and usefulness: nothing is
left to the imagination; there is no obscurity, no poetry, no nonsense:
the colors of the landscape are bright and varied; it is thickly
populated, and glowing with animal life. Here, then, the character of
the cottage must be cheerfulness; its colors may be vivid: white is
always beautiful; even red tiles are allowable, and red bricks
endurable. Neatness will not spoil it: the angle of its roof may be
acute, its windows sparkling, and its roses red and abundant; but it
must not be ornamented nor fantastic, it must be evidently built for the
uses of common life, and have a matter-of-fact business-like air about
it. Its outhouses and pigsties, and dunghills should therefore, be kept
in sight: the latter may be made very pretty objects, by twisting them
with the pitchfork, and plaiting them into braids, as the Swiss do.
92. III. The Wild, or gray, Country. "Wild" is not exactly a correct
epithet; we mean wide, uninclosed, treeless undulations of land, whether
cultivated or not. The greater part of northern France, though well
brought under the plow, would come under the denomination of gray
country. Occasional masses of monotonous forest do not destroy this
character. Here, size is desirable, and massiness of form; but we must
have no brightness of color in the cottage, otherwise it would draw the
eye to it at three miles off, and the whole landscape would be covered
with conspicuous dots. White is agreeable, if sobered down; slate
allowable on the roof as well as thatch. For the rest, we need only
refer to the remarks made on the propriety of the French cottage.