I have procured you a pint of oil of our painters. If you have
any of the other plans of the Hotels drawn you will oblige by sending
them as it is important that the timber should be cut for them as
soon as possible. Hotel A on account of the flat roof being so large,
will be difficult. For that reason I believe I shall give it to Oldham.
The others being smaller and consequently less difficult in the man-
agement of the roof I intend for Spooner & Perry. Hotel A if placed
in a line with the north flank wall of Pav. No. 1 will have no dor-
mitory attached to it as there is only 56 ft. from the north flank to
the alley or cross street running up to the back of the dormitories.
I wish to see you also before we begin the foundations of the hotels,
as I find if we cut in the bank the depth of Hotel A we shall have a
bank 7 feet high and then the cellar to dig out; in order to save some
labor I propose advancing the buildings a few feet in the street and
then throwing the street more to the East.

   To whom but the architect could this letter have been
written? Every architect is receiving just such letters to-day.
The problems he mentions are just the ones that every
superintendent is confronted with and the answers to them
are just such as only the architect is authorized to give.

   A wealth of original plans, elevations, and specifications
existing, some may ask what has become of the detail draw-
ings? Detail drawings are for the use of builders. Jefferson

   Regardless of any aid Dr. Thornton or any other fur-
nished, the real source of his rotunda and pavilions was Pal-
ladio. There is no difficulty in determining this fact by an
examination of the buildings and comparing them with those
represented by Palladio, but besides this, we have Jefferson's
constant acknowledgment of this authority. His correspond-
ence during the constructive period makes repeated refer-
ence to Palladio, or to his editors, Chambray and Leoni, in
order to convey to his workmen his ideas without needless
drawing. Here is a photograph of his specifications for capi-
tals for four pavilions. (See Plates XI, XII, XIII.)

   That Jefferson turned to Palladio was the natural result
of his experience. He had seen the work of the few archi-
tects then working in America. He was familiar with their
limitations, their untrained, inefficient, jealous, and quarrel-
some dispositions. He knew personally Hallet, Hoban,
Turner, Thornton, and Latrobe.

   Palladio was his only source of accurate information con-

   Palladio had been the inspiration of Inigo Jones, who began
an architecture which latter culminated in the so-called Geor-
gian, a type which, although represented by some splendid
monuments, is nevertheless the outgrowth of the worst that
was in Palladio, a type characterized by order supporting order,
clustering of columns, multiplication of pilasters crowned with
broken entablatures, and frequently indulging inelegant, if
not vulgar, ornament. The Georgian architecture of England
was rooted in the depraved forms of Palladio -- it was a lean-
ing toward the Vitruvian, and while Jefferson also found his
starting-point in Palladio, his development was in precisely
the opposite direction. He refused to be led away from such
types as the Pantheon, but used Palladio to work back into
them; hence, while every type created by the Georgians
became increasingly mongrel and depraved, every form by
Jefferson became increasingly refined and classical. Jefferson
rarely indulges a pilaster, only once superimposed an order,
and never broke an entablature. The only excuse for care-

   His method in design can be traced in his plans for the
library, which as he has decided shall be a reduced Pantheon
after Palladio. He says: --

   The diameter to be 77 feet being 1/2 that of the Pantheon conse-
quently 1/4 its area and 1/8 its volume. The circumference is 242
feet. (See Plate XIV.)

   To adjust itself to his general composition he has decided
that he wants his columns to have a basal diameter of three
feet. This being his module, one minute of the module is
equal to one-sixtieth of thirty-six inches or six-tenths of
an inch. With this lesser unit of measure he proceeds to
devise all the proportions demanded in his reductions: --

   The reduced diameter of the column is to be 54' (minutes),
making the top of the shaft two feet, eight and four-tenths
inches.

   In the same manner he derives the breadth of his portico,
which is to be sixteen modules or forty-eight feet.

   

	Ft.	In.
1.	Intercollonations, 2 diameters	= 6-
2.	Projection of Cornice 47¾ min	= 2-	4.65
3.	Pediment span	= 52-	5.75
4.	Pediment height	= 11-	8.

   Here, then, in his own words, we have his method of
deriving his proportions in transverse and vertical lines.
Right or wrong, he concluded that these are correct for an
entrance to his principal building.

   Now out of this space, as a master of design he sets about,
first, to secure to his major purpose its requisite share, without
omitting to provide in a most economical manner for his
minor demands. The upper two-thirds with its vaulted dome
he devotes to his library, the lower one-third he utilizes in
two floors, each containing two elliptical rooms with ample
passage-and entrance-ways. For the use of his builders he
gives transverse and vertical sections of the rotunda, just as
he did for the portico. Hence, we must conclude that
Jefferson possessed ability as a designer. (See Plates XV,
XVI, XVII.)

   The second requisite of an architect is his ability to con-
struct. What did Jefferson know of the properties of ma-
terials, of the methods of combining them? What practical
experience had he? Did he conform to the laws of scientific

   All these questions can be answered in the affirmative by
examination of the same building. The roof of this building
was a sufficient test of his practical ability in construction.
This is the manner in which he accomplished his task. He
first drew the plan of the roof giving the plates and ribs;
the primary ribs extending from plate to crown, the second-
ary, three-quarters the way from plate to crown heading in on
a secondary crown, the third running one-half way, and the
fourth set running one-quarter way. Here are his own draw-
ings and specifications. He says: --

   The thickness of the wall at top, to wit, at the spring of the vault
of the roof is 22. in. On the top of the wall lay a curbed plate, in
Delorm's manner, consisting of 4 thicknesses of 3.in. each, 22. in
wide pieces 12 ft. long, breaking joints every 3 ft. bolted through
with bolts of iron, having a nut and screw at their ends. On this
curbed plate the ribs of the roof are to rest. The ribs are to be 4 in.
thicknesses of one inch plank in pieces 4 ft. long, breaking joints at
every foot. They are to be 18 in. wide, which leaves 4 in. of the
plate for the attic upright to rest on. The ribs are to be keyed to-
gether by cross boards at proper intervals for the ribs to head in as
they shorten. The curb of the sky light to be made also in Delorm's
way but vertically. (See Plate XVII.)

   Here is found illustrated a knowledge and a practical
application of his ability in construction: a peculiar roof

   His training in the management of mechanics, of laborers,
and in the manufacture of building materials fitted him to
calculate successfully the cost of construction. Further he
had at hand Latrobe's estimate of the cost of Philadelphia
building. On the back of each plan he enumerates the num-
ber of brick in each part of the building designed, even to
the number in each column. From the number of brick he
arrives at the total cost of construction, as is seen in the fol-
lowing example: --

   He says in Philadelphia they calculate roughly that: (1)
The cost of brick walls as equal to the cost of carpenters'
work. (2) The cost of carpenters' materials and iron-
mongery as equal to the cost of brick walls. He points out
that this is more expensive than in Virginia at that time.
These calculations are copied from specifications written by
his own hand. There can be no question, then, as to his being
qualified to estimate the cost.

   There remains the third test to be applied before con-
clusion can be reached upon his architectural ability. It has
been shown that he understood and appreciated the art of
design and that he possessed the ability to construct. What
ability did he have to decorate? What were his artistic
powers?

   If it was assumed that the University group was his crea-
tion, no further answer would be required -- they stand as
an incontestable proof of some one's appreciative and highly
developed artistic power. Such reverence for tradition, and
such complete allegiance to the canons of good taste he has
manifested in the detail of his ornament for the various units
of his group and the various architectural members of his
units, that no critic has yet pointed out a discordant note in
the harmony of his theme. Always a motif, but never so
often occurring as to appear monotonous nor so infrequent
as to lose the air of continuity.

   While he continuously had by him Palladio with his best
types, he is never afraid to depart from the laws that au-
thority works out; yet, when he has once departed, the end
justifies the means. An example of one of his departures is
preserved in his own words. What he says in his specifica-
tions for attic pilasters in his Theatre of Marcellus is highly
interesting; he says: --

   I have never seen an attic pilaster, with the measures of its parts
minutely expressed except that of the Temple of Nerva Trajan.
That temple is so overloaded with ornament, and its pilaster frit-
tered away so minutely in its mouldings as to lose all effect. I have
simplified these mouldings to suit our plainer style, still, however,
retaining nearly their general outlines and proportions. (See Plate
XVIII.)

   This is not the voice of one who dares not walk alone,

   Another example of his independent artistic judgment is
seen in his Tuscan arcade, which, almost with effrontery,
pursues its way along the boundaries of the lawn, leaping
upward or diving downward, daringly raps at the doors of
each of the three orders of his classic temples. An archi-
tectural unit in itself surmounted by an anachronistic Chi-
nese balustrade, what more incongruous in thought? Yet
what more satisfying in beholding? This is not the work
of a mere copyist, but of one having within him a feeling of
confidence.

   Jefferson's distance compensation in the perspective of his
ensemble was equally as ingenious and effective as was that
of the Greeks who curved the lines of their temple eaves.
Standing in the south rotunda portico, looking down the
lawn each unit, while maintaining its relationship, is never-
theless possessed of its individuality. He secured this by
geometrically varying the diverging lines in two directions
-- horizontal and vertical. Pavilions I and III and II and IV
are spaced 89 feet, 8½ inches on centres; III and V and
IV and VI are spaced 126 feet, 4½ inches on centres; V
and VII and VI and VIII are spaced 143 feet, 6 inches on
centres, and VII and IX and VIII and X are spaced 157
feet, 1 inch on centres. Thus he succeeds in holding apart

   Vitruvius, and Palladio after him, had endeavored to dis-
cover some mathematical principle or exact expression for
the classic proportions manifest in the various orders. Col-
umnar proportions, for example, were laid down as eight,
nine, and nine and one-half diameters for Doric, Ionic, and
Corinthian respectively. In like manner proportions were
established for entablatures and inter-columniations. Pal-
ladio's effort was a successful revolt against the license then
rampant in European architecture, but being founded only
in a half-truth it inevitably led to errors in an opposite di-
rection. The proportions of the human figure when enlarged
into the lengths and girths of a giant serve only to magnify

   Vitruvius and Palladio failed to discover a mathematical
rule because none existed. The better Roman architects
must have worked out for each composition their proportions
in design, modelling in plan and in elevation until their criti-
cal eye could discover no offense and until their artistic spirit
found peace and satisfaction. It was then, and not until then,

   Some laws there were (and are, to be sure) which bound
the Roman architect, laws with a penalty more unescapable
than any mathematical laws enunciated by Vitruvius, Palladio,
or any archæological student. They were laws of art and not
of mathematics. Therefore while Jefferson drew his types
from Palladio, he did not copy him, as is seen in a few of
his buildings: --

   

		Diameters
	Palladio and Vitruvius	Jefferson
Diocletian Doric	8.	9.2
Fortuna Virilis Ionic	9.	8.8
Albano Doric	8.	8.5
Theatre Marcellus Doric	8.	7.5
Diocletian Corinthian	9.5	9.5

   Thus it is seen that only in one instance did he follow the
mathematical maxims of Palladio and that in his Corinthian,
whereas in the Doric of the Bath of Diocletian he diverged
more than one diameter. These variations were requisite for

   Moreover, remembering that this work was executed
nearly a century ago, we could supply evidence of his fourth
qualification -- that of surveyor and engineer. The lawn
itself, with its boundaries and its buildings, was laid out
with transit and level manipulated by the hand of Jefferson.
Architects of to-day are saved from this by later subdivisions
of the sciences.

   Architecture was only one of the many human interests
with which Jefferson was identified in a most distinguished
manner, and, whatever the subject, his relation to it was that
of a diligent and discriminating student.

   His talent in drawing, although far inferior to the splendid
technique characteristic of the modern architect's office, and
certainly very meagre as compared with the yards upon
yards of blue-prints, elevations, sections, and full-size detail,
is, however, despite these deficiencies, which were the limi-
tations of the time rather than the man, clear, expressive,
and intelligible. Nor should it be forgotten that the hand
guiding the pen was more than seventy-five years old.

   His discriminating selection of types, his genius in com-
bination, the pleasurable exhilaration he produces in his dar-
ing but successful contrasts, the tranquillity secured by his
harmony earn for him an incontestable place among artistic
architects.

   That he was able to take such classic models as the Temple
of Fortuna Virilis, the Temple of Cori, and the Pantheon,
reduce them, modify them, adjust them to a new setting,
adapt them to a new purpose and to a different time, yet
preserving with extreme fidelity the art in their lines and
proportions, will perpetuate his fame as an architect with
the power of splendid critical judgment. His was not the
quickly grasped and drunken conception of the tyro, who
with a few modillions, triglyphs, and metopes, a supply of
columns, an assortment of capitals, and a few hundred yards
of egg and dart moulding, would undertake the building of
an institution for all men for all time. Nowhere does he
sacrifice principle, practice rule-of-thumb, or bend to the
cheapness of expediency. It was, therefore, with more than
his usual characteristic optimism that he could disregard the

   It is confidently believed that no considerable system of building
within the U.S. has been done on cheaper terms, nor more correctly,
faithfully or solidly executed according to the nature of the material
used. That the style or scale of the buildings should have met the
approbation of every individual judgment was impossible from the
various structure of various minds. Whether it has satisfied the
general judgment, is not known to us, no previous expression of
that was manifested but in the injunctions of the law to provide for
the accommodation of ten professors and a competent number of
students; and by the subsequent enactments, implying an appro-
bation of the plan reported by the original commissioners, on the
requisition of the law constituting them; which plan was exactly
that now carried into execution. We had, therefore, no supple-
mentary guide but our own judgments, which we have exercised
conscientiously, in adopting a scale and style of building believed to
be proportioned to the respectability, the means and wants of our
country and such as will be approved in any future condition it may
attain. We owed to it to do, not what was to perish with ourselves,
but what would remain, be respected and preserved thro other ages.
And we fondly hope that the instruction which may flow from this
institution, kindly cherished, by advancing the minds of our youth
with the growing science of the times, and elevating the views of
our citizens generally to the practice of social duties, and the func-
tions of self government, may ensure to our country the reputation,
the safety and prosperity, and all the other blessings which expe-
rience proves to result from the cultivation and improvement of
the general mind. And without going into the monitory history

---

-[73]-


of the ancient world, in all its quarters, and at all its periods, that of
the soil in which we live, and of its occupants indigenous and im-
migrant, teaches us the awful lesson, that no nation is permitted to
live in ignorance with impunity.

   In these words, when his plans were completed, he uttered
his prophetic hope; his buildings, having now reached the
closing years of their first century, are only in their youth,
and an appreciative posterity answers him in the affirma-
tive.

   Since writing the chapter on the University buildings,
there has come into the possession of the author, through
Dr. W. M. Randolph, a descendant of Jefferson, the note-
book used on July 18, 1817, the day on which Jefferson
staked out his plan on a virgin hill. The notes in this book
bear further testimony: that Jefferson himself used the
theodolite and staked out the plan; that he had at this time
constructed his square or lawn; and that he modified the
natural fall into grades which would accentuate his archi-
tectural perspective. The following is taken from the first
page of this notebook: --

Operations at & for the College.

July 18, a. the place at which the theodolite was fixed being the
center of the Northern square, and the point destined
for some principal building in the level of the square 1.
m. n. o.

---

-[74]-

   

the fall from a. to d. 18 f.
*from a. to d. the bearing magnetically S. 21 ^o W
add for variation... 2½

S. 23½ W

? the true meridian was that day 2½ ^o to left of magnetic.
b. is the center of the middle square, and at
g. we propose to erect our first pavilion.
c. is the center of the Southern square.
locust stakes were driven at l. a. f. ‖ g. b. h. ‖ i. c. k.
and at d. is a pile of stones.
each square is to be level within itself, with a pavilion
at each end to wit at ef. gh. ik. and 10 dormitories on
each side of each pavilion filling up the sides of the
squares.
from a. to b. was measured 255. f. or 85. yds., b. c.
the same, & c. d. the half.
from the points a. b. c. was measured 100. f. each way
to ef. gh. ik. making thus each square 255 f. by 200.

f. =.8541 of an acre or nearly [unclear: ] .

   In the same notebook is found an ingenious and interest-
ing scheme for adapting his rotunda dome to the study of
astronomy. He knew that it was impossible to secure a me-
chanic with the mathematical and astronomical training or
an astronomer with the mechanical training and understand-

   The concave ceiling of the Rotunda is proposed to be painted
sky-blue and spangled with gilt stars in their position and magni-
tude copied exactly from any selected hemisphere of our latitude.
A seat for the Operator movable and fixable at any point in the
concave, will be necessary, and means of giving to every star it's
exact position.

Machinery for moving the Operator.

   a. b. c. d. e. f. g. is the inner surface of 90 ^o of the dome.

   o. p. is a boom, a white oak sapling of proper strength, it's heel
working in the centre of the sphere, by a compound joint admitting
motion in any direction, like a ball and socket.

   p. q. r. is a rope suspending the small end of the boom, passing
over a pully in the zenith at q. and hanging down to the floor, by
which it may be raised or lowered to any altitude.

   at p. a common saddle, with stirrups is fixed for the seat of the oper-
ator, and seated on that, he may by the rope be presented to any
point of the concave.

---

-[78]-

   

Machinery for locating the stars.

   a. s. is the horizontal plane passing thro the centre of the sphere
o. an annular ream of wood, of the radius of the sphere must be
laid on this plane and graduated to degrees and minutes, the gradu-
ation beginning in the North rhomb of the place. Call this the
circle of amplitude. a moveable meridian of 90 ^o must then be pro-
vided, it's upper end moving on a pivot in the zenith, it's lower end
resting on the circle of amplitude, this must be made of thin flexible
white oak like the ream of a cotton spinning wheel, and fixed in
it's curvature, in a true quadrant by a similar lath of white oak as it's
chord a. n. their ends made fast together by clamps. This flexible
meridian may be of 6 I. breadth, and graduated to degrees and
minutes.

   The zenith distance and amplitude of every star must then be ob-
tained from the astronomical tables, place the foot of the moveable
meridian in that of the North rhomb of the place, and the polar star
at it's zenith distance, and so of every other star of that meridian;
then move the foot to another meridian at a convenient interval,
mark it's star by their zenith distance, and so go round the circle.
bh. ci. dk. el. fm. are braces of window cord for keeping the merid-
ian in it's true curve.

   perhaps the rope had better be attached to the boom at s. instead of
p. to be out of the way of the operator, perhaps also the chord board
an. had better present it's edge to the meridian than it's side.

   if the meridian ark and it's chord be 6 I. wide & ½ I. thick they
will weigh about 135 lb. and consequently be easily manageable.

   if the boom op. be 35 f. long, 6 I. at the but and 3. I. at the
small end, it will weigh about 100 lb. and be manageable also.

   While much of Mr. Jefferson's renown as an architect
rests upon the success he attained in his monumental struc-

   Just before his death, but after he had completed all the

   The 4 angular rooms of this drawing are 18 f. diam. in the clear
& 18f. high. This dimension determines all the others. For an Observ-
atory the material attentions are 1. that it be so solid in it's construc-
tion, with a foundation and walls so massive as not to be liable to
tremble with the wind, walking, etc. 2. That it have ample aper-
tures in every direction. 3. That it have some one position per-
fectly solid which may command the whole horizon and heavens;
with a cupola cover, moveable and high enough to protect long
telescopes from the weather. As to height of the building, the less
the solider. The Observatories in the considerable cities of Europe
are high of necessity to overlook the buildings of the place. That
of Paris is 80.f. high. but so much the worse, if avoidable. In the
design on the other side, the body of the building is surrounded with
a terras of 70.f. square, 4½ f. high, to be filled solidly with stone
laid dry and compact, and paved. all the rooms of the building are
to be filled compactly with stone, in like manner to the floors, which
should be paved. the doors of the 4 passages to be arched in order
to unite the 4 octagon rooms together, and to form them into one
solid body, all the walls to be 2½ bricks thick. those of the middle
rooms to be vaulted together at top, and the hollow between the
hemisphere and the square of the walls to be honeycombed with

---

-[83]-


cross arches their crowns being made strait and level with the crown
of the vault. this should rise a little above the top of the roof, so as
to give a solid paved terras on the top which may command the
whole horison. the Cupola cover should have a cylindrical body of
thin light frame work moveable on pulley wheels at bottom in a cir-
cular groove, the top a hollow hemisphere, lightly ribbed and cov-
ered with tin, the two together high enough to cover a long refrac-
tor, of 15 f. for example. this moveable cover should be cut vertically
into 2. halves from top to bottom, and the radius of one half should
be less than that of the other, and move in an inner groove so that
one may be shut into the other, leaving half of the vault of the
heavens open to view, thus. over the wall of the mural quadrant
must be a fissure in the roof closed with shutters water tight.

   This building is proposed for the ordinary purposes of the Astron-
omical professor and his school, and should be placed on the near-
est site proper for it, & convenient to the University. the hill on
which the old buildings stand seems to be the best.

   The mountain belonging to the University was purchased with a
view to a permanent establishment of an Observatory, with an As-
tronomer resident at it, employed solely in the business of Observa-
tion. but I believe a site on the nearest mountain in the S. W. ridge,
Montalto for example would be better, because of it's command of
the fine horison to the East.

   On the margin of this plan he portrays his sterling hon-
esty. After having drawn them he found a scheme better
adapted to the function, so he stamps upon his own scheme
his emphatic condemnation in these words: --

   See an infinitely better plan by Hassler in the Am. Philosoph.

---

-[84]-


transaction, new series, vol II. Pl. X 1825. See Observatory of
Paris 2. Miliria. p.A; 187 Pl IX.c

   The writer has had much practical experience with the
architects of to-day and has found them exceptionally sincere
in being willing to surrender the wrong and grasp the cor-
rect, quick to abandon their own error and follow another's
truth, but he is not sure that in making the transition they
would, all of them, tarry long enough to put the stamp of
their own condemnation upon their own work.

   Jefferson's interest in art and monumental architecture is
clearly portrayed in his letter to the Comtesse de Tesse
while on a tour through Southern France. It also discloses in
words, as the University buildings proclaim in works, his slant
toward the Roman art.

Nismes, March 20th 1787.

   Here I am, Madam, gazing whole hours at the Maison Quarree,
like a lover at his mistress. The stocking weavers and silk-spinners
around it consider me as a hypochondriac Englishman, about to
write with a pistol the last chapter of his history. This is the second
time I have been in love since I left Paris. The first was with a
Diana at the Chateau de Laye-Espinaye in Beaujolais, a delicious
morsel of sculpture, by M. A. Slodtz. This you will say, was in
rule, to fall in love with a female beauty; but with a house! It is
out of all precedent. No, madam, it is not without a precedent in
my own history. While in Paris, I was violently smitten with the
Hotel de Salm, and used to go to the Fisheries almost daily to
look at it. The loueuse des chaises -- inattentive to my passion --

---

-[87]-


never had the complaisance to place a chair there, so that sitting on
the parapet, and twisting my neck around to see the object of my
admiration, I generally left it with a torti-coli.

   From Lyons to Nismes I have been nourished with the remains
of Roman grandeur. They have always brought you to my mind
because I know your affection for whatever is Roman and noble.
At Vienne I thought of you. But I am glad you were not there;
for you would have seen me more angry than, I hope, you will ever
see me. The Prætorian Palace as it is called -- comparable, for its
fine proportions, to the Maison Quarree -- defaced by the barbari-
ans who have converted it to its present purpose, its beautiful fluted
corinthian columns cut out, in part, to make space for Gothic win-
dows, and hewed down, in the residue, to the plane of the building,
was enough, you must admit, to disturb my composure. At Orange,
too, I thought of you. I was sure you had seen with pleasure the
sublime triumphal arch of Marius at the entrance to the city. I went
then to the Arenæ. Would you believe, Madam, that in this eight-
eenth century, in France under the reign of Louis XVI., they are
at this moment pulling down the circular wall of this superb remain,
to pave a road? And that, too, from a hill which is itself an entire
mass of stone, just as fit, and more accessible!

   An evidence of Jefferson's resourcefulness is seen in his
plan and specifications for a bell-clock which would work
automatically. This must be arranged so that the bell can be
struck by the operation of the clock machinery and yet it
must be possible for the bell-ringer voluntarily to ring it at
any hour. He secures this feature by fixing the bell so as to
prevent its motion from disturbing the hammers within it.

   It is not easy for those of our time to appreciate the many
and the varied character of the difficulties that confronted
Jefferson in his building operations.

   The settlement at Charlottesville was too small to give aid
in the way of mechanics' or of builders' supplies, conse-
quently nearly every article for such purposes and even
many of those things needed in everyday life must be made
upon the farm. He taught some of the negroes to become
good cabinetmakers, carpenters, stonecutters, bricklayers,
and blacksmiths. He employed the pickaninnies in a minia-
ture nail factory, which, beside supplying nails for his own
use, furnished a surplus to be sold for profit in the neighbor-
ing village. In order to accomplish this he stimulated am-
bition by keeping in operation a system of rewards, distinc-

   CaO + H2O = Ca (HO)2

   3Ca (HO)2 + SiO2 = Ca3SiO5 + 2H2O.

   He discovered that kiln-drying lumber injured its quality,
made it brittle, and favored splintering; for this reason he

   Such as essayed to do the work of the architect during
Jefferson's time were only amateurs, who with an itinerant
habit migrated from place to place, to the seat of construction,
because they were never able to communicate their ideas by
either verbal or graphic instruction. They were in fact builder-
architects who did not foresee difficulties, but attempted the
solution of building problems only as they arose. Jefferson,
on the other hand, while he never neglected personal super-
vision, communicated his ideas in such exact terms, and in
such order of succession, that if faithful adherence was observed
the building in his mind would result and none other. No word
was ever written which could be omitted, and none which
was left out could be added without endangering the success-
ful achievement of the conception.

   In 1792, when the United States, a fledgling nation, found

   The abiding integrity of Jefferson's building operations,
his honesty in construction, his resourcefulness in the com-
bination of materials, his ingenuity in their adaptation, his
accurate observation, his scientific slant of mind, his versatility
in information, his powers of discrimination, his sense of
proportion, all combined with a bigness of mind and an artistic
temperament, lifted him at once as an architect from compe-
tition with all his contemporaries.

   In his main hall at Monticello, Jefferson could face the embers
in his grand fireplace, watch the laborers on his Pantops farm,

   To be sure it would be unfair to expect the specialized
architect of our day to embody in his equipment such varied
qualifications as the old statesman-architect possessed, just as
it would be unfair to demand of Jefferson such splendid detail
as the modern specialized architect offers. Yet out of the con-
tinuous stream of architects who pass his work in review,
not one has departed without paying a graceful tribute to his
supremacy. Stanford White, when asked why he did not locate
his buildings nearer the old Jefferson group, replied in all
sincerity that such temerity must be reserved for a more
audacious architect.

   It is a tribute to the profession of our own generation that,
notwithstanding the development of their science and the
specialization of their tasks, they maintain a reverence for
those who labored under the limiting conditions of the past.
And nowhere in their history have they found a figure stand-
ing for a higher truth or maintaining a nobler ideal. As future

   * Dec. 7. 19. I took the bearing accurately of the range of pavilions, & found it
magnetically S. 21. W. the variation of the needle being that day 4 ^o E. of the true N.
or to the right, it is probable that at the operation of July 18, the merid. of
mount'n. was inadvertently consid'd. as the true one.

Thomas Jefferson
As a Designer of Landscapes
by
warren h. manning

   Mr. Jefferson's writings, his University of Virginia, his
Monticello, give unmistakable evidence of his appreciation
of landscape, of the value of buildings as elements of land-
scape, and of the relation that they should bear to the topog-
raphy and to the outlook of a site.

   Had he not loved and appreciated landscape, he would not
have said, "And our own dear Monticello, where Nature has
spread such a rich mantle under the eye, mountains, forests,
rocks, rivers. There is a mountain there in the opposite di-
rection of the afternoon's sun, the valley between which and
Monticello, is five hundred feet deep." "How sublime to look
down upon the workhouse of Nature to see her clouds, hail,
snow, rain, thunder, all fabricated at our feet."

   In his outline of the University curriculum in the letter of
September 7, 1814, to Peter Carr, President of the Board
of Trustees, he designated as his third division, Professional
Grades, stating that to the Professional School would come
among others, the "agricultor"; to the Department of Rural
Economy, the gentleman, the architect, the pleasure gardener,
painter, and musician. In the School of Fine Arts he included

   Thus in the educational forecast of his greatest monument,
the University of Virginia, and in the design of his home as
indicated elsewhere, does Jefferson recognize the broader
phases of landscaping which at that time was no more clearly
differentiated in the popular mind, from gardening, architect-
ure, horticulture, or engineering, than it is to-day.

   In Mr. Jefferson's day, the most important constructive
work of his century, as well as the classics of the profession
that deals with landscape, was being produced in England by
such practitioners and writers as Repton, Kent, Price, Gilpin,
Pope, and Addison. Of the books then produced, the late
Frederick Law Olmsted, the master mind of this profession
in America, first placed in the hands of his students Wheatley's
"Observations on Modern Gardening." With this book in
hand, Mr. Jefferson made "A tour to some of the English
gardens" in March and April, 1776, made "chiefly," he
states, "for such practical things as might enable me to esti-
mate the expenses of making and maintaining a garden of
that style." He says that Wheatley's descriptions "are, in
point of style, models of perfect elegance and classical cor-
rectness; they are as remarkable for their exactness." Mr.
Jefferson, in his own description of these gardens, intelligently
and discriminatingly comments upon the merits and defects

   There was included with this knowledge and appreciation
of the fine arts, a practical interest in and an intimate know-
ledge of the mechanical devices and methods, and the materials
used in the construction of buildings and landscapes. The
sketches in his notes of travel, his letters to friends, his minute
instructions to his farm superintendent regarding the farming
and manufacturing at his Monticello, and the plans and direc-
tions for the construction of the University made with his own
hands, give abundant evidence of this. He was a skillful sur-
veyor, too, for he in person surveyed and drew the plans of
his own estates and the University site. His engineering
knowledge enabled him to bring the University water-sup-
ply from basins fed with surface and spring water "in wooden
pipes from the neighboring high lands," and also to seek for
a contingent supply, as indicated by his inquiries "for a per-
son acquainted with the art of boring for water to immense
depths. We have occasion for such an artist at our University."

   Mr. Jefferson's interest in city planning is also indicated in
his letter of February 8, 1805, in which he refers to yellow
fever as originating in low, ill-cleansed parts of the town
and suggests a "checker-board plan" in which "black
squares only to be building squares, and the white ones to be
open in turf and trees." "I have accordingly proposed that

   That Mr. Jefferson's "garden" and "gardening" repre-
sented in his mind what we term "landscape," is indicated
by the statement in his "traveling notes" of June 3, 1788,
to young friends who were going abroad; "Gardens [are]
peculiarly worth the attention of an American, because it is
the country of all others where the noblest gardens may be
made without expense. We have only to cut out the
superabundant plants."

   The most notable example of Jefferson's own cutting out
of the super-abundant plants to make a landscape is to be
observed on the road through his estate from Charlottesville
to Monticello. This road, after leaving the village, crosses a
tree-arched stream, then follows its shore for some distance
before beginning its hillside climb. At a point a little more
than halfway up to the saddle of the ridge which is termi-
nated by Monticello is one spot which I conceive was sought
out by Jefferson with much woods tramping and tree-climb-
ing to establish viewpoints. Here the steep forested hill-
side towers uphill above you, and grassy fields fall steeply
downhill away from you. To the right is the edge of the
Monticello thirty-acre hilltop forest, from which Mr. Jeffer-

   The road from here soon passes into the woods, and to
the entrance lodge that lies in the saddle of the ridge. From
here there is a rather steep climb on a great curve through
a wood with a Scotch broom undergrowth by Jefferson's
monument to his home. Not far from the lodge the return
branch road, recently constructed, is passed on the right, but

   The house is located just far enough back from the point
of the ridge summit to make way for a sweep of gently
sloping lawn where a large party of people and their vehicles
could gather, turn, and move about. This was made dis-
tinctly the entrance side of the house. The house main floor
elevation was fixed at a point where its occupants could look
over a lawn one hundred and ten feet wide and one hundred
and fifteen feet long. From near its floor level, platforms
extend east and west to the edge of the retaining wall that
holds a part of the south lawn quadrangle in place. This
retaining wall extends back to office building terminals on
each side, beyond which the lawn surface merges into the
natural slope. Along the face of the west part of the retaining

   From the point where the two roads through the woods
meet near the south end of the lawn, the drive passed on a di-
rect and level line, by the ivy-covered ruins of old buildings,
then by the terraced kitchen garden on the steep easterly
slope at the right, and then on to the farm. These kitchen
gardens were constructed mostly during the period when
Mr. Jefferson was President of the United States. His over-
seer states that there were grown here "vegetables of all
kinds, figs, grapes, and the greatest variety of fruit." On the
west of this entrance road as it passed the house, the terrace
at the servants' quarter level was high enough up above the
road so that activities thereon could be screened from visit-
ors on foot or in vehicle by a low hedge.

   The sunny south lawn was the home lawn where Jeffer-
son and his family were completely protected from the in-
trusion of visitors who might come in by the only entrance
road.

   It is not necessary to go further in the description of
Monticello to show this man's genius as a designer of a

   The development of the home estate plan and the building
of the house extended over a thirty-year period that followed
1764, yet I find no evidence of radical departures from his
first conceptions. Study the topography of this section, and
you will see that he selected the most commanding of its
conveniently accessible sites, certainly the finest site on his
father's thirty thousand acres. He clearly recognized in the
beginning the big units in the natural beauty of the site, the

   One of the most important of these landscape units was
"the valley five hundred feet deep," the Charlottesville Valley,
his "sublime workhouse of Nature." It was here that the
site of the University of Virginia was officially located Au-
gust 1, 1818, on a ridge, where the College Trustees had
directed on May 5, 1817, that the first building should be
erected. The beauty of this valley had so appealed to Mr.
Jefferson, and his conception of the relation of building to
landscape was so broad, that he must have had definitely in
mind, during all these constructive years, the visual connec-
tion between his first love "Monticello" and the University,
of which he expressed his desire to be called the father, in the
epitaph which he wrote. At his home the westerly slope below
the house and its south lawn were cleared of trees and laid
in grass. This gave an unobstructed view of the University.
On that side of the University ridge that faced Monticello,
the outbuildings and the ranges were stepped down the slope
to give views over their tops down into the valley and up to
Monticello from the professors' quarters in the second story
of the pavilion on the East Lawn, as well as from the stu-
dents' quarters in the East Range. This arrangement pre-

   In the design of the College, Mr. Jefferson had the benefit
of foreign travel and the intercourse with distinguished men
and women that his position as Ambassador to France and as
President of this United States gave him, advantages that had
not come to him when he conceived Monticello's plan. This
intercourse and his study of this plan gave rise to expres-
sions that represented his appreciation of landscape and its
place in design that I have referred to at the outset. While
this intercourse aided him in the development of his Univer-
sity plan, it did not impair his originality of thought or inde-
pendence of action, or his power of adapting the conceptions
of others to his special problems without making servile
copies. Not only was this true in the units of his plan, but
also in his terms of identification, such as "The Lawns,"
"The Ranges," "The Pavilions."

   In Mr. Jefferson's letter of September 7, 1814, to Peter
Carr, he states that "In his acquaintance with the organiza-
tion of the seminaries of other countries and with the opin-
ions of the most enlightened individuals he found no two
alike, each being adapted to the condition of the section or

   His statement of April 2, 1821, with many reasons why
a "Village form is preferable to a single great building,"
forecasts a plan which Mr. Herbert B. Adams refers to as
the "modern adaptation of the mediæval idea of cloistered
retreats, with colonnades and quadrangles, the latter opening
toward the south."

   May 5, 1817, the Trustees directed the erection of build-
ings in accordance with a plan presented "for buildings
about a square." Four days later Mr. Jefferson delineated
his connected pavilions and dormitories on three sides of a
"square" opening south, "with trees and grass," in a letter
to Mr. William Thornton. This letter is reproduced in Dr.
Lambeth's chapter. On January 6, 1818, the Trustees de-
scribed the purchase of land "high, dry, open, and furnished
with water," and a plan which provided for adding to the
buildings "indefinitely hereafter," "the whole in form and
effect" to have "the character of an academical village."

   On August 1, 1818, a legislative commission meeting at
Rock Fish Gap in the Blue Ridge approved the site and the
plans, with the knowledge that "one pavilion and its appen-
dix of dormitories" were far advanced and another under
way, and that the one hundred and fifty-three acres of land
that were added to the original forty-seven acres included

   Referring again to the reproductions in Dr. Lambeth's
chapters, it will be observed that Mr. Jefferson in his first
plan located the ranges (dormitories) close to the rear of
the lawn, class-room and professors' homes (pavilions), with
gardens at the back of the ranges, and then ingeniously re-
versed the gardens on his plan to bring them between the
ranges and lawns by cutting out and reversing a part of his
drawing. This last arrangement permitted a direct access by
stairs to the gardens from the professors' homes in the sec-
ond story of the pavilions which were included in one plan
and partly built, as indicated by Dr. Lambeth. The service
road and yard, used in common by two pavilions, were shut
off from the gardens by the serpentine walls. Thus you will
see he provided a secluded outdoor compartment for profes-
sors' families that corresponded to his Monticello south lawn.

   Regarding these changes, Mr. J. C. Cabel, who was Mr.
Jefferson's most helpful legislative co-worker, but whose
criticism on the style and constructions of buildings were
generally not accepted, says, "I was extremely happy to be
informed by General Cocke that you had annexed the gar-
dens to the back yards of the pavilions."

   In locating the group of buildings, Mr. Jefferson so fixed

   The rotunda also was placed at the head of a valley, run-
ning with the axis line, and through which a most effective
view of this structure was to be obtained from uplands a third
of a mile to the north.

   It will be observed that this orientation of the quadrangle
was made to take advantage of the steep slopes and valleys
in making both outlook and inlook to landscapes and build-
ings more effective, in the same manner that similar situations
were taken advantage of at Monticello at the fine view on the
road up, as well as in the location of the house. That this was
a result of a study of his landscape and topography is made
evident by the fact that he did not follow the line of least

   With these references to the landscape phases of Mr.
Jefferson's design and a previous reference to his stepping
down the building on the Monticello side of the slope, I
would have you read Dr. Lambeth's statement regarding the
false perspective which he so skillfully developed in his view
from the rotunda between the connected pavilions of the
East and West Lawns toward the view that he had retained
by keeping his "opening south."

   Some of the circumstances attending the location and con-
struction of the University, showing Mr. Jefferson's respon-
sibility for the minutest detail, will be of interest.

   You will observe Dr. Lambeth's reproduction of the orig-
inal survey notes made about the time the buildings were lo-
cated, and Mr. Jefferson's footnotes on discrepancies thereon.

   Captain Bacon states that Mr. Jefferson wrote the deed
himself for the first purchase of forty-seven acres, which

   From Mr. Tucker's "Life of Jefferson" (1837) comes
the statement that from the spring of 1819, Mr. Jefferson
procured the different workmen and superintended the build-
ing of the University. "He not only formed a general plan
of the buildings, but drafts of every subordinate part were
made by him." Captain Bacon describes minutely the event
of Mr. Jefferson's laying out the entire foundation of the
University with rule, pegs, and twine, and then immediately
setting at work upon it the ten men assembled for the pur-
pose. He also described Mr. Jefferson's almost daily visits
of inspection regardless of storms or company, and his rigid
rejection of poor materials. He refers also to the great time
and the crowds that were at the laying of the corner-stone
by President James Monroe, who was a Trustee, as were
Presidents Madison and Jefferson, both being at this cere-
mony on October 6, 1817.

   It is quite obvious that Mr. Jefferson's interest in gardens
and lawns was quite as great as it was in the buildings, and
that he intended to have tree plantations made, as indicated

   While we know that Mr. Jefferson made and executed
his own landscape planting studies at Monticello and intended
to have trees on the lawns at the University, as stated above,
I do not find that any trees were planted under his personal
direction or in accordance with any planting plan he may
have made. The only record I have of tree planting is that
the original trees of the two rows on the lawn were planted
in 1840, the present red maples and ash about 1860. Other
trees about the grounds were evidently planted at various
times without proper consideration, for they almost wholly
hide the buildings from every viewpoint.

   Mr. Jefferson did, however, have definite plans for the
creation of an arboretum, and in the preparation of this he
was assisted by the Abbé Corriea de Serra. On April 17,
1826, two months before his death, he sent Professor Emmet
a detailed plan of six acres, which included, as he states, the
extent of ground to be employed, the number and character
of plants to be introduced on it, "restrained altogether to

   Mr. Jefferson's biographers have not touched upon his
broad conception of landscape which I have endeavored to
make clear, wherein buildings are considered as important
incidents in a landscape to be definitely and accurately co-re-
lated to it. The importance of this co-relation is coming to
be more and more clearly recognized to-day, because that
profession that designs and constructs landscapes, and ar-
ranges for the location of buildings and arrangement of
grounds, is securing year by year more effective results in
coöperation with that profession that designs and constructs
buildings.

   If this chapter will help more definitely to differentiate the
responsibilities of these professions in the public mind, then
it is well that it should have been written.