Handbook of the new Library of Congress

by Unknown

L’ALLEGRO.—BY W. B. VAN INGEN.

THE ROTUNDA.

Entering by either of the doors at the head of the staircase, the visitor at once steps out upon an embayed gallery, affording a spacious and uninterrupted view of the great domed Reading Room, or Rotunda, which, in every sense, is the central and most important portion of the Library. As such, it is marked by a magnificence of architecture and decoration nowhere else to be found in the building. Outside, from whatever direction one approaches, the gilded dome which forms its outer shell is the first thing to catch the eye; and the golden flame of the torch which surmounts the lantern indicates to the passer-by at once the central and the highest point of the whole structure. Within, richer materials have been used, and decoration has been more freely employed than in any other part of the Library. Sculpture and paintings, rare marbles, and a broad scheme of color and of ornamentation in stucco relief unite with a lofty architectural design to form what is one of the most notable interiors in the country.

The Importance of the Rotunda.—The detailed description of the Rotunda may be deferred a little, however, in order to explain its relation to the rest of the building, and, especially, the reason for its central position. Besides accumulating books and providing the student with proper accommodations for his work—such as good light and convenient chairs and tables—it is the business of every well managed library to supply its readers with the books they desire in the shortest possible time and with the least possible amount of friction. A well digested catalogue is the first requisite; the second is that the books should be stored in a place as closely accessible to the reading room as may be. In a small library this is a simple matter; the same room will be sufficient for both books and readers. When the number of volumes increases it is necessary to shelve them in a compact system of bookcases called a “stack”—or, as in the Library of Congress, in a series of stacks—which must occupy a portion of the building by itself. The reading room and the stacks being thus separated, it is still the aim of the architect to place them in such a way as to retain as far as possible the practical convenience of the smaller library, where every reader is almost within reaching distance of every book. This end is most easily attained by adopting what is called the “central system” of library construction, which is the system followed in the Library of Congress. It has already been seen that the building is in the form of a cross enclosed within a rectangle, thus allowing space for four courts for light and air. At the intersections of the arms of the cross is the Rotunda, the main entrance to which is through the west arm of the cross. The other three arms are occupied by the stacks; the East Stack, directly opposite, is the second short arm; the North and South Stacks, each the same length, are the two long arms. It is obvious that by this arrangement the books can be more easily reached than in any other way. The axes of the stacks are continued radii of the Rotunda, and, so far as the ground plan is concerned, the shortest way from any part of the cross to the Distributing Desk which the visitor sees below in the centre of the room is always along a straight line. This Distributing Desk, of course, being in the exact centre of everything, is the vital point, the kernel, of the whole arrangement. No part of the stack, it will be noted, is far enough away from it to delay the transmission of a book unreasonably, as might very well be the case if the three stacks were in one. Moreover, by the use of a mechanical contrivance, which will be explained later, even this distance is in effect very greatly reduced.

THE GALLERY OF THE ROTUNDA.
SHOWING THE STATUES OF HERODOTUS AND BEETHOVEN.

Another thing may well be noted in this connection although it has already been referred to in the preliminary description of the building—and that is, the comparative unimportance, from the standpoint of the real requirements of the Library, of the great Rectangle which encloses the stacks and the Rotunda, and necessarily appears from the street to be the main portion of the building. It contains rooms which, at present, are very convenient for clerical work or as art galleries and special reading rooms, and which may in time be necessary to accommodate an overflow of books; but it must steadily be borne in mind that the Rotunda and the stacks contain the real life of the institution. They are the only really essential and vital portion of the building; without them, there could hardly be a library; and by themselves they would be sufficient for almost every present need.

The General Arrangement.—The character of the Rotunda is warm and rich in ornament as befits a room where people remain to read. It is naturally not so formal as the Rotunda of the Capitol. The height of the room from the floor to the top of the dome, where it converges upon the lantern, is one hundred and twenty-five feet, and from the floor to the crown of the domed ceiling of the lantern itself, one hundred and sixty feet. This latter point, however, is quite shut off from the view of a person standing in the gallery and can be seen only from a position near the centre of the room. The ground plan of the room is octagonal in shape, measuring one hundred feet from one side to another. Eight massive clustered piers, each set some ten feet forward from a corner of the octagon, support a series of heavy arches running entirely round the room. These piers serve, as it were, to stake out the limit of the Reading Room proper; between them are marble screens arcaded in two stories, and behind they are connected with the outer wall by partitions which divide the octagon into eight bays or alcoves, each fourteen feet deep and thirty wide. In each alcove, at the height of the screen, is a gallery like that which the visitor has already entered, one connecting with another, through doors pierced in the partition walls, so as to form a continuous promenade—as it may be called, considering its purpose—in which the sightseer may walk without fear of disturbing the readers below.