I cannot think, however, that the damage of an occasional Hardouin Mansart in France or a Mr. Pecksniff, I may say, in England, to the architecture of either country has been anything like as great as that done American Renaissance by their numerous colleagues upon this side of the water. That our modern architecture is as good as it is, is no less than remarkable, considering, too, how we are always trying to make it pay financially. And when at last there comes a scintillating opportunity where an architect is no longer obliged to turn out a rent-trap, a manufacturing plant, or something else that will pay a given percentage upon the investment, as happens in the case of a large country house, the marks of our national trade are very apt to obtrude themselves in a hundred amusing ways. The commercial habit cannot be relinquished in a moment, and thus, unconsciously, we betray ourselves.
Of the modern country seats of America, I should select Biltmore (see [Plate XCII]), in the North Carolina mountains—the masterpiece of Richard Morris Hunt—as standing first and foremost at the time I write. It is one of the very few examples of domestic architecture we have that can be compared with the historic castles of England to which I have referred and we are accustomed to seeing illustrated so beautifully in Country Life. We call Biltmore French Renaissance now; it will be American Renaissance later on. No other of Mr. Hunt’s designs can begin to equal it. You may observe that Ochre Court at Newport has a fine elevation to the sea. It is true. But the place is much marred by an overgrown servants’ wing, while the notorious Marble-house appears to have been created under pressure when the artist was overworked, for it has neither his inspiration nor individuality, merely representing several thousand cubic feet of classic architecture which would serve to better advantage for a plate in a text-book. But at Biltmore, we have an original design with the necessary attributes—attributes which I need not take the trouble to enumerate again, having been so particular about the reader’s making their acquaintance in the other chapters.
I remember I also mentioned the house of H. W. Poor, Esq., at Tuxedo (see Plates [XCIII] and [XCIV]), as an example of modern work in America that might withstand the odious ordeal of international comparison. Really, it is a very simple thing, the Anglo-Saxon home idea; for the life of me, I do not see why we have so little of it. The Jacobean manor-house historically developed to date is an admirable medium of expression, and in the illustration in [Plate XCIV] we may discover one other example of good American Renaissance. If you think the Tuxedo house looks too English to be called that, place it, it you please, beside Blickling Hall in Norfolkshire, a genuine Jacobean prototype, several fine illustrations of which will be found in the Architectural Record for October, 1901. Upon the long gallery of the latter, I think, Mr. T. Henry Randall, the architect of Mr. Poor’s house, has improved. The gallery of Blickling Hall has some
H. W. POOR HOUSE, TUXEDO, N. Y.
T. Henry Randall, Architect.
PHILLIPS HOUSE, LAWRENCE, L. I.
T. Henry Randall, Architect.