Light (God’s eldest daughter) is a principal beauty in a building; yet it shines not alike from all parts of heaven. An east window welcomes the infant beams of the sun before they are of strength to do any harm, and is offensive to none but a sluggard. A south window in summer is a chimney with a fire in it, and needs the screen of a curtain. In a west window in summer time, toward night, the sun grows low and over-familiar, with more light than delight. A north window is best for butteries and cellars, where the beer will be sour for the sun’s smiling on it. Thorough-lights are best for rooms of entertainment, and windows on one side for dormitories. As for receipt:
A house had better be too little for a day than too great for a year. And it is easier borrowing of thy neighbor a brace of chambers for a night, than a bag of money for a twelvemonth. It is vain, therefore, to proportion the receipt to an extraordinary occasion, as those who, by over-building their houses have dilapidated their lands, and their estates have been pressed to death under the weight of their house. As for strength:
Country houses must be substantives, able to stand of themselves; not like city buildings, supported by their neighbors on either side. By strength we mean such as may resist weather and time, not invasion—castles being out of date in this peaceable age. As for the making of moats round about, it is questionable whether the fogs be not more unhealthful than the fish bring profit, or the water defense. Beauty remains behind, as the last to be regarded, because houses are made to be lived in, not looked on.
Let not the front look asquint on a stranger, but accost him right at his entrance. Uniformity, also, much pleaseth the eye; and it is observed that freestone, like a fair complexion, soonest waxeth old, while brick keeps her beauty longest.
Let the office-houses observe the due distance from the mansion-house. Those are too familiar which presume to be of the same pile with it. The same may be said of stables and barns; without which a house is like a city without outworks, it can never hold out long.
Gardens, also, are to attend in their place. When God (Genesis ii. 9) planted a garden eastward, He made to grow out of the ground every tree pleasant to the sight, and good for food. Sure He knew better what was proper to a garden than those, who, now-a-days, therein only feed the eyes, and starve both taste and smell.
To conclude. In building, rather believe any man than an artificer in his own art for matter of charges; not that they can not, but will not, be faithful. Should they tell thee all the cost at the first, it would blast a young builder in the budding, and therefore they sooth thee up till it hath cost thee something to confute them. The spirit of building first possessed people after the flood, which then caused the confusion of languages, and since, the estate of many a man.
Thomas Fuller, “Holy and Profane States,” 1608–1661.
OF BUILDING.
Houses are built to live in, and not to look on; therefore let use be preferred before uniformity, except where both may be had. Leave the goodly fabrics of houses, for beauty only, to the enchanted palaces of the poets, who build them with small cost. He that buildeth a fair house upon an ill seat, committeth himself to prison; neither do I reckon it an ill seat only where the air is unwholesome, but likewise where the air is unequal; as you shall see many fine seats set upon a knap of ground, environed with higher hills round about it, whereby the heat of the sun is pent in, and the wind gathereth as in troughs; so as you shall have, and that suddenly, as great diversity of heat and cold as if you dwelt in several places. Neither is it ill air only that maketh an ill seat, but ill ways, ill markets; and if you will consult with Momus, ill neighbors. I speak not of many more; want of water, want of wood, shade, and shelter, want of fruitfulness, and mixture of grounds of several natures; want of prospect, want of level grounds, want of places at some near distance for sports of hunting, hawking, and races; too near the sea, or too remote; having the commodity of navigable rivers, or the discommodity of their overflowing; too far from great cities, which may hinder business; or too near them, which lurcheth all provisions, and maketh every thing dear; where a man hath a great living laid together and where he is scanted; all which, as it is impossible perhaps to find together, so it is good to know them, and think of them, that a man may like as many as he can; and, if he have several dwellings, that he sod them so, that what he wanteth in one he may find in another. Lucullus answered Pompey well, who, when he saw his stately galleries, and rooms so large and lightsome, in one of his houses, said, “Surely an excellent place for summer, but how do you in winter?” Lucullus answered, “Why do you not think me as wise as some fowls, that ever change their abode toward the winter?”