The Ten Books on Architecture by Vitruvius Pollio

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Title: Ten Books on Architecture

Author: Vitruvius

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VITRUVIUS

THE TEN BOOKS ON ARCHITECTURE

TRANSLATED BY
MORRIS HICKY MORGAN, PH.D., LL.D.
LATE PROFESSOR OF CLASSICAL PHILOLOGY
IN HARVARD UNIVERSITY

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS AND ORIGINAL DESIGNS
PREPARED UNDER THE DIRECTION OF
HERBERT LANGFORD WARREN, A.M.
NELSON ROBINSON JR. PROFESSOR OF ARCHITECTURE
IN HARVARD UNIVERSITY
CAMBRIDGE
HARVARD UNIVERSITY PRESS
LONDON: HUMPHREY MILFORD
OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
1914
COPYRIGHT, HARVARD UNIVERSITY PRESS

* * * * *




PREFACE


During the last years of his life, Professor Morgan had devoted much
time and energy to the preparation of a translation of Vitruvius, which
he proposed to supplement with a revised text, illustrations, and notes.
He had completed the translation, with the exception of the last four
chapters of the tenth book, and had discussed, with Professor Warren,
the illustrations intended for the first six books of the work; the
notes had not been arranged or completed, though many of them were
outlined in the manuscript, or the intention to insert them indicated.
The several books of the translation, so far as it was completed, had
been read to a little group of friends, consisting of Professors Sheldon
and Kittredge, and myself, and had received our criticism, which had, at
times, been utilized in the revision of the work.

After the death of Professor Morgan, in spite of my obvious incompetency
from a technical point of view, I undertook, at the request of his
family, to complete the translation, and to see the book through the
press. I must, therefore, assume entire responsibility for the
translation of the tenth book, beginning with chapter thirteen, and
further responsibility for necessary changes made by me in the earlier
part of the translation, changes which, in no case, affect any theory
held by Professor Morgan, but which involve mainly the adoption of
simpler forms of statement, or the correction of obvious oversights.

The text followed is that of Valentine Rose in his second edition
(Leipzig, 1899), and the variations from this text are, with a few
exceptions which are indicated in the footnotes, in the nature of a
return to the consensus of the manuscript readings.

The illustrations in the first six books are believed to be
substantially in accord with the wishes of Professor Morgan. The
suggestions for illustrations in the later books were incomplete, and
did not indicate, in all cases, with sufficient definiteness to allow
them to be executed, the changes from conventional plans and designs
intended by the translator. It has, therefore, been decided to include
in this part of the work only those illustrations which are known to
have had the full approval of Professor Morgan. The one exception to
this principle is the reproduction of a rough model of the Ram of
Hegetor, constructed by me on the basis of the measurements given by
Vitruvius and Athenaeus.

It does not seem to me necessary or even advisable to enter into a long
discussion as to the date of Vitruvius, which has been assigned to
various periods from the time of Augustus to the early centuries of our
era. Professor Morgan, in several articles in the _Harvard Studies in
Classical Philology_, and in the _Proceedings of the American Academy_,
all of which have been reprinted in a volume of _Addresses and Essays_
(New York, 1909), upheld the now generally accepted view that Vitruvius
wrote in the time of Augustus, and furnished conclusive evidence that
nothing in his language is inconsistent with this view. In revising the
translation, I met with one bit of evidence for a date before the end of
the reign of Nero which I have never seen adduced. In viii, 3, 21, the
kingdom of Cottius is mentioned, the name depending, it is true, on an
emendation, but one which has been universally accepted since it was
first proposed in 1513. The kingdom of Cottius was made into a Roman
province by Nero (cf. Suetonius, _Nero_, 18), and it is inconceivable
that any Roman writer subsequently referred to it as a kingdom.

It does seem necessary to add a few words about the literary merits of
Vitruvius in this treatise, and about Professor Morgan's views as to the
general principles to be followed in the translation.

Vitruvius was not a great literary personage, ambitious as he was to
appear in that character. As Professor Morgan has aptly said, "he has
all the marks of one unused to composition, to whom writing is a painful
task." In his hand the measuring-rod was a far mightier implement than
the pen. His turgid and pompous rhetoric displays itself in the
introductions to the different books, where his exaggerated effort to
introduce some semblance of style into his commonplace lectures on the
noble principles which should govern the conduct of the architect, or
into the prosaic lists of architects and writers on architecture, is
everywhere apparent. Even in the more technical portions of his work, a
like conscious effort may be detected, and, at the same time, a lack of
confidence in his ability to express himself in unmistakable language.
He avoids periodic sentences, uses only the simpler subjunctive
constructions, repeats the antecedent in relative clauses, and, not
infrequently, adopts a formal language closely akin to that of
specifications and contracts, the style with which he was, naturally,
most familiar. He ends each book with a brief summary, almost a formula,
somewhat like a sigh of relief, in which the reader unconsciously
shares. At times his meaning is ambiguous, not because of grammatical
faults, which are comparatively few and unimportant, but because, when
he does attempt a periodic sentence, he becomes involved, and finds it
difficult to extricate himself.

Some of these peculiarities and crudities of expression Professor Morgan
purposely imitated, because of his conviction that a translation should
not merely reproduce the substance of a book, but should also give as
clear a picture as possible of the original, of its author, and of the
working of his mind. The translation is intended, then, to be faithful
and exact, but it deliberately avoids any attempt to treat the language
of Vitruvius as though it were Ciceronian, or to give a false impression
of conspicuous literary merit in a work which is destitute of that
quality. The translator had, however, the utmost confidence in the
sincerity of Vitruvius and in the serious purpose of his treatise on
architecture.

To those who have liberally given their advice and suggestions in
response to requests from Professor Morgan, it is impossible for me to
make adequate acknowledgment. Their number is so great, and my knowledge
of the indebtedness in individual cases is so small, that each must be
content with the thought of the full and generous acknowledgment which
he would have received had Professor Morgan himself written this
preface.

Personally I am under the greatest obligations to Professor H. L.
Warren, who has freely given both assistance and criticism; to Professor
G. L. Kittredge, who has read with me most of the proof; to the Syndics
of the Harvard University Press, who have made possible the publication
of the work; and to the members of the Visiting Committee of the
Department of the Classics and the classmates of Professor Morgan, who
have generously supplied the necessary funds for the illustrations.

ALBERT A. HOWARD.




CONTENTS


BOOK I

PREFACE 3

THE EDUCATION OF THE ARCHITECT 5

THE FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF ARCHITECTURE 13

THE DEPARTMENTS OF ARCHITECTURE 16

THE SITE OF A CITY 17

THE CITY WALLS 21

THE DIRECTIONS OF THE STREETS; WITH REMARKS ON THE WINDS 24

THE SITES FOR PUBLIC BUILDINGS 31


BOOK II

INTRODUCTION 35

THE ORIGIN OF THE DWELLING HOUSE 38

ON THE PRIMORDIAL SUBSTANCE ACCORDING TO THE PHYSICISTS 42

BRICK 42

SAND 44

LIME 45

POZZOLANA 46

STONE 49

METHODS OF BUILDING WALLS 51

TIMBER 58

HIGHLAND AND LOWLAND FIR 64


BOOK III

INTRODUCTION 69

ON SYMMETRY: IN TEMPLES AND IN THE HUMAN BODY 72

CLASSIFICATION OF TEMPLES 75

THE PROPORTIONS OF INTERCOLUMNIATIONS AND OF COLUMNS 78

THE FOUNDATIONS AND SUBSTRUCTURES OF TEMPLES 86

PROPORTIONS OF THE BASE, CAPITALS, AND ENTABLATURE IN THE
IONIC ORDER 90


BOOK IV

INTRODUCTION 101

THE ORIGINS OF THE THREE ORDERS, AND THE PROPORTIONS OF THE
CORINTHIAN CAPITAL 102

THE ORNAMENTS OF THE ORDERS 107

PROPORTIONS OF DORIC TEMPLES 109

THE CELLA AND PRONAOS 114

HOW THE TEMPLE SHOULD FACE 116

THE DOORWAYS OF TEMPLES 117

TUSCAN TEMPLES 120

CIRCULAR TEMPLES AND OTHER VARIETIES 122

ALTARS 125


BOOK V

INTRODUCTION 129

THE FORUM AND BASILICA 131

THE TREASURY, PRISON, AND SENATE HOUSE 137

THE THEATRE: ITS SITE, FOUNDATIONS, AND ACOUSTICS 137

HARMONICS 139

SOUNDING VESSELS IN THE THEATRE 143

PLAN OF THE THEATRE 146

GREEK THEATRES 151

ACOUSTICS OF THE SITE OF A THEATRE 153

COLONNADES AND WALKS 154

BATHS 157

THE PALAESTRA 159

HARBOURS, BREAKWATERS, AND SHIPYARDS 162


BOOK VI

INTRODUCTION 167

ON CLIMATE AS DETERMINING THE STYLE OF THE HOUSE 170

SYMMETRY, AND MODIFICATIONS IN IT TO SUIT THE SITE 174

PROPORTIONS OF THE PRINCIPAL ROOMS 176

THE PROPER EXPOSURES OF THE DIFFERENT ROOMS 180

HOW THE ROOMS SHOULD BE SUITED TO THE STATION OF THE
OWNER 181

THE FARMHOUSE 183

THE GREEK HOUSE 185

ON FOUNDATIONS AND SUBSTRUCTURES 189


BOOK VII

INTRODUCTION 195

FLOORS 202

THE SLAKING OF LIME FOR STUCCO 204

VAULTINGS AND STUCCO WORK 205

ON STUCCO WORK IN DAMP PLACES, AND ON THE DECORATION OF
DINING ROOMS 208

THE DECADENCE OF FRESCO PAINTING 210

MARBLE FOR USE IN STUCCO 213

NATURAL COLOURS 214

CINNABAR AND QUICKSILVER 215

CINNABAR (_continued_) 216

ARTIFICIAL COLOURS. BLACK 217

BLUE. BURNT OCHRE 218

WHITE LEAD, VERDIGRIS, AND ARTIFICIAL SANDARACH 219

PURPLE 219

SUBSTITUTES FOR PURPLE, YELLOW OCHRE, MALACHITE GREEN, AND
INDIGO 220


BOOK VIII

INTRODUCTION 225

HOW TO FIND WATER 227

RAINWATER 229

VARIOUS PROPERTIES OF DIFFERENT WATERS 232

TESTS OF GOOD WATER 242

LEVELLING AND LEVELLING INSTRUMENTS 242

AQUEDUCTS, WELLS, AND CISTERNS 244


BOOK IX

INTRODUCTION 251

THE ZODIAC AND THE PLANETS 257

THE PHASES OF THE MOON 262

THE COURSE OF THE SUN THROUGH THE TWELVE SIGNS 264

THE NORTHERN CONSTELLATIONS 265

THE SOUTHERN CONSTELLATIONS 267

ASTROLOGY AND WEATHER PROGNOSTICS 269

THE ANALEMMA AND ITS APPLICATIONS 270

SUNDIALS AND WATER CLOCKS 273


BOOK X

INTRODUCTION 281

MACHINES AND IMPLEMENTS 283

HOISTING MACHINES 285

THE ELEMENTS OF MOTION 290

ENGINES FOR RAISING WATER 293

WATER WHEELS AND WATER MILLS 294

THE WATER SCREW 295

THE PUMP OF CTESIBIUS 297

THE WATER ORGAN 299

THE HODOMETER 301

CATAPULTS OR SCORPIONES 303

BALLISTAE 305

THE STRINGING AND TUNING OF CATAPULTS 308

SIEGE MACHINES 309

THE TORTOISE 311

HEGETOR'S TORTOISE 312

MEASURES OF DEFENCE 315

NOTE ON SCAMILLI IMPARES 320

INDEX 321




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS


CARYATIDES FROM TREASURY OF CNIDIANS, DELPHI 6

CARYATIDES OF ERECHTHEUM, ATHENS 6

CARYATID IN VILLA ALBANI, ROME 6

CARYATIDES 7

PERSIANS 9

CONSTRUCTION OF CITY WALLS 23

TOWER OF THE WINDS, ATHENS 26

DIAGRAM OF THE WINDS 29

DIAGRAM OF DIRECTIONS OF STREETS 30

VITRUVIUS' BRICK-BOND 44

TRAVERTINE QUARRIES, ROMAN CAMPAGNA 49

EXAMPLE OF OPUS INCERTUM, CIRCULAR TEMPLE, TIVOLI 51

OPUS RETICULATUM, THERMAE OF HADRIAN'S VILLA, TIVOLI 52

EXAMPLE OF OPUS RETICULATUM, DOORWAY OF STOA POECILE, HADRIAN'S
VILLA 52

MAUSOLEUM AT HALICARNASSUS, RESTORED 54

CLASSIFICATION OF TEMPLES ACCORDING TO ARRANGEMENTS OF COLONNADES 76

HYPAETHRAL TEMPLE OF VITRUVIUS COMPARED WITH PARTHENON AND
TEMPLE OF APOLLO NEAR MILETUS 77

CLASSIFICATION OF TEMPLES ACCORDING TO INTERCOLUMNIATION 79

EUSTYLE TEMPLE OF VITRUVIUS COMPARED WITH TEMPLE OF TEOS 81

VITRUVIUS' RULES FOR DIAMETER AND HEIGHT OF COLUMNS COMPARED
WITH ACTUAL EXAMPLES 83

DIMINUTION OF COLUMNS IN RELATION TO DIMENSIONS OF HEIGHT 85

ENTASIS OF COLUMNS 87

FRA GIOCONDO'S IDEA OF "SCAMILLI IMPARES" 89

IONIC ORDER ACCORDING TO VITRUVIUS COMPARED WITH ORDER OF
MAUSOLEUM AT HALICARNASSUS 91

COMPARISON OF IONIC ORDER ACCORDING TO VITRUVIUS WITH ACTUAL
EXAMPLES AND WITH VIGNOLA'S ORDER 95

BASILICA AT POMPEII 104

CORINTHIAN CAPITAL OF VITRUVIUS COMPARED WITH MONUMENTS 105

VITRUVIUS' DORIC ORDER COMPARED WITH TEMPLE AT CORI AND THEATRE
OF MARCELLUS 111

VITRUVIUS' TEMPLE PLAN COMPARED WITH ACTUAL EXAMPLES 115

VITRUVIUS' RULE FOR DOORWAYS COMPARED WITH TWO EXAMPLES 119

TUSCAN TEMPLE ACCORDING TO VITRUVIUS 121

CIRCULAR TEMPLE, TIVOLI 123

MAISON CARRÉE, NÎMES 123

PLAN OF TEMPLE, TIVOLI 123

PLAN OF TEMPLE OF VESTA, ROME 123

PLAN OF CIRCULAR TEMPLE ACCORDING TO VITRUVIUS 124

FORUM, TIMGAD 131

FORUM, POMPEII 133

PLAN OF BASILICA, POMPEII 134

VITRUVIUS' BASILICA, FANO 135

ROMAN THEATRE ACCORDING TO VITRUVIUS 147

THEATRE AT ASPENDUS 149

THEATRE PORTICO ACCORDING TO VITRUVIUS 152

TEPIDARIUM OF STABIAN BATHS, POMPEII 157

APODYTERIUM FOR WOMEN, STABIAN BATHS, POMPEII 157

STABIAN BATHS, POMPEII 158

PALAESTRA, OLYMPIA, AND GREEK PALAESTRA ACCORDING TO VITRUVIUS 161

PLANS OF HOUSES, POMPEII 176

PLAN OF HOUSE OF SILVER WEDDING, POMPEII 177

PLAN OF TYPICAL ROMAN HOUSE 178

PERISTYLE OF HOUSE OF THE VETTII, POMPEII 179

PLAN OF HOUSE OF THE VETTII, POMPEII 179

PLAN OF VILLA RUSTICA, NEAR POMPEII 183

PLAN OF VITRUVIUS' GREEK HOUSE 186

PLAN OF GREEK HOUSE, DELOS 187

PLAN OF GREEK HOUSE DISCOVERED AT PERGAMUM 188

RETAINING WALLS 191

CONSTRUCTION OF THE ANALEMMA 271

CONSTRUCTION OF WATER SCREW 295

WATER SCREW 296

HEGETOR'S RAM AND TORTOISE 312

1. From sixteenth century MS.

2. From model by A. A. Howard.

* * * * *



VITRUVIUS

* * * * *




BOOK I




PREFACE


1. While your divine intelligence and will, Imperator Caesar, were
engaged in acquiring the right to command the world, and while your
fellow citizens, when all their enemies had been laid low by your
invincible valour, were glorying in your triumph and victory,--while all
foreign nations were in subjection awaiting your beck and call, and the
Roman people and senate, released from their alarm, were beginning to be
guided by your most noble conceptions and policies, I hardly dared, in
view of your serious employments, to publish my writings and long
considered ideas on architecture, for fear of subjecting myself to your
displeasure by an unseasonable interruption.

2. But when I saw that you were giving your attention not only to the
welfare of society in general and to the establishment of public order,
but also to the providing of public buildings intended for utilitarian
purposes, so that not only should the State have been enriched with
provinces by your means, but that the greatness of its power might
likewise be attended with distinguished authority in its public
buildings, I thought that I ought to take the first opportunity to lay
before you my writings on this theme. For in the first place it was this
subject which made me known to your father, to whom I was devoted on
account of his great qualities. After the council of heaven gave him a
place in the dwellings of immortal life and transferred your father's
power to your hands, my devotion continuing unchanged as I remembered
him inclined me to support you. And so with Marcus Aurelius, Publius
Minidius, and Gnaeus Cornelius, I was ready to supply and repair
ballistae, scorpiones, and other artillery, and I have received rewards
for good service with them. After your first bestowal of these upon me,
you continued to renew them on the recommendation of your sister.

3. Owing to this favour I need have no fear of want to the end of my
life, and being thus laid under obligation I began to write this work
for you, because I saw that you have built and are now building
extensively, and that in future also you will take care that our public
and private buildings shall be worthy to go down to posterity by the
side of your other splendid achievements. I have drawn up definite rules
to enable you, by observing them, to have personal knowledge of the
quality both of existing buildings and of those which are yet to be
constructed. For in the following books I have disclosed all the
principles of the art.




CHAPTER I

THE EDUCATION OF THE ARCHITECT


1. The architect should be equipped with knowledge of many branches of
study and varied kinds of learning, for it is by his judgement that all
work done by the other arts is put to test. This knowledge is the child
of practice and theory. Practice is the continuous and regular exercise
of employment where manual work is done with any necessary material
according to the design of a drawing. Theory, on the other hand, is the
ability to demonstrate and explain the productions of dexterity on the
principles of proportion.

2. It follows, therefore, that architects who have aimed at acquiring
manual skill without scholarship have never been able to reach a
position of authority to correspond to their pains, while those who
relied only upon theories and scholarship were obviously hunting the
shadow, not the substance. But those who have a thorough knowledge of
both, like men armed at all points, have the sooner attained their
object and carried authority with them.

3. In all matters, but particularly in architecture, there are these two
points:--the thing signified, and that which gives it its significance.
That which is signified is the subject of which we may be speaking; and
that which gives significance is a demonstration on scientific
principles. It appears, then, that one who professes himself an
architect should be well versed in both directions. He ought, therefore,
to be both naturally gifted and amenable to instruction. Neither natural
ability without instruction nor instruction without natural ability can
make the perfect artist. Let him be educated, skilful with the pencil,
instructed in geometry, know much history, have followed the
philosophers with attention, understand music, have some knowledge of
medicine, know the opinions of the jurists, and be acquainted with
astronomy and the theory of the heavens.

4. The reasons for all this are as follows. An architect ought to be an
educated man so as to leave a more lasting remembrance in his treatises.
Secondly, he must have a knowledge of drawing so that he can readily
make sketches to show the appearance of the work which he proposes.
Geometry, also, is of much assistance in architecture, and in particular
it teaches us the use of the rule and compasses, by which especially we
acquire readiness in making plans for buildings in their grounds, and
rightly apply the square, the level, and the plummet. By means of
optics, again, the light in buildings can be drawn from fixed quarters
of the sky. It is true that it is by arithmetic that the total cost of
buildings is calculated and measurements are computed, but difficult
questions involving symmetry are solved by means of geometrical theories
and methods.

5. A wide knowledge of history is requisite because, among the
ornamental parts of an architect's design for a work, there are many the
underlying idea of whose employment he should be able to explain to
inquirers. For instance, suppose him to set up the marble statues of
women in long robes, called Caryatides, to take the place of columns,
with the mutules and coronas placed directly above their heads, he will
give the following explanation to his questioners. Caryae, a state in
Peloponnesus, sided with the Persian enemies against Greece; later the
Greeks, having gloriously won their freedom by victory in the war, made
common cause and declared war against the people of Caryae. They took
the town, killed the men, abandoned the State to desolation, and carried
off their wives into slavery, without permitting them, however, to lay
aside the long robes and other marks of their rank as married women, so
that they might be obliged not only to march in the triumph but to
appear forever after as a type of slavery, burdened with the weight of
their shame and so making atonement for their State. Hence, the
architects of the time designed for public buildings statues of these
women, placed so as to carry a load, in order that the sin and the
punishment of the people of Caryae might be known and handed down even
to posterity.

[Illustration: Photo. H. B. Warren CARYATIDES OF THE ERECHTHEUM AT
ATHENS]

[Illustration: CARYATIDES FROM THE TREASURY OF THE CNIDIANS AT DELPHI]

[Illustration: Photo. Anderson CARYATIDES NOW IN THE VILLA ALBANI AT
ROME]

[Illustration: CARYATIDES (From the edition of Vitruvius by Fra
Giocondo, Venice, 1511)]

6. Likewise the Lacedaemonians under the leadership of Pausanias, son of
Agesipolis, after conquering the Persian armies, infinite in number,
with a small force at the battle of Plataea, celebrated a glorious
triumph with the spoils and booty, and with the money obtained from the
sale thereof built the Persian Porch, to be a monument to the renown and
valour of the people and a trophy of victory for posterity. And there
they set effigies of the prisoners arrayed in barbarian costume and
holding up the roof, their pride punished by this deserved affront,
that enemies might tremble for fear of the effects of their courage,
and that their own people, looking upon this ensample of their valour
and encouraged by the glory of it, might be ready to defend their
independence. So from that time on, many have put up statues of Persians
supporting entablatures and their ornaments, and thus from that motive
have greatly enriched the diversity of their works. There are other
stories of the same kind which architects ought to know.

7. As for philosophy, it makes an architect high-minded and not
self-assuming, but rather renders him courteous, just, and honest
without avariciousness. This is very important, for no work can be
rightly done without honesty and incorruptibility. Let him not be
grasping nor have his mind preoccupied with the idea of receiving
perquisites, but let him with dignity keep up his position by cherishing
a good reputation. These are among the precepts of philosophy.
Furthermore philosophy treats of physics (in Greek [Greek: physiologia])
where a more careful knowledge is required because the problems which
come under this head are numerous and of very different kinds; as, for
example, in the case of the conducting of water. For at points of intake
and at curves, and at places where it is raised to a level, currents of
air naturally form in one way or another; and nobody who has not learned
the fundamental principles of physics from philosophy will be able to
provide against the damage which they do. So the reader of Ctesibius or
Archimedes and the other writers of treatises of the same class will not
be able to appreciate them unless he has been trained in these subjects
by the philosophers.

8. Music, also, the architect ought to understand so that he may have
knowledge of the canonical and mathematical theory, and besides be able
to tune ballistae, catapultae, and scorpiones to the proper key. For to
the right and left in the beams are the holes in the frames through
which the strings of twisted sinew are stretched by means of windlasses
and bars, and these strings must not be clamped and made fast until they
give the same correct note to the ear of the skilled workman. For the
arms thrust through those stretched strings must, on being let go,
strike their blow together at the same moment; but if they are not in
unison, they will prevent the course of projectiles from being straight.

[Illustration: PERSIANS

(From the edition of Vitruvius by Fra Giocondo, Venice, 1511)]

9. In theatres, likewise, there are the bronze vessels (in Greek [Greek:
êcheia]) which are placed in niches under the seats in accordance with
the musical intervals on mathematical principles. These vessels are
arranged with a view to musical concords or harmony, and apportioned in
the compass of the fourth, the fifth, and the octave, and so on up to
the double octave, in such a way that when the voice of an actor falls
in unison with any of them its power is increased, and it reaches the
ears of the audience with greater clearness and sweetness. Water
organs, too, and the other instruments which resemble them cannot be
made by one who is without the principles of music.

10. The architect should also have a knowledge of the study of medicine
on account of the questions of climates (in Greek [Greek: klimata]),
air, the healthiness and unhealthiness of sites, and the use of
different waters. For without these considerations, the healthiness of a
dwelling cannot be assured. And as for principles of law, he should know
those which are necessary in the case of buildings having party walls,
with regard to water dripping from the eaves, and also the laws about
drains, windows, and water supply. And other things of this sort should
be known to architects, so that, before they begin upon buildings, they
may be careful not to leave disputed points for the householders to
settle after the works are finished, and so that in drawing up contracts
the interests of both employer and contractor may be wisely
safe-guarded. For if a contract is skilfully drawn, each may obtain a
release from the other without disadvantage. From astronomy we find the
east, west, south, and north, as well as the theory of the heavens, the
equinox, solstice, and courses of the stars. If one has no knowledge of
these matters, he will not be able to have any comprehension of the
theory of sundials.

11. Consequently, since this study is so vast in extent, embellished and
enriched as it is with many different kinds of learning, I think that
men have no right to profess themselves architects hastily, without
having climbed from boyhood the steps of these studies and thus, nursed
by the knowledge of many arts and sciences, having reached the heights
of the holy ground of architecture.

12. But perhaps to the inexperienced it will seem a marvel that human
nature can comprehend such a great number of studies and keep them in
the memory. Still, the observation that all studies have a common bond
of union and intercourse with one another, will lead to the belief that
this can easily be realized. For a liberal education forms, as it were,
a single body made up of these members. Those, therefore, who from
tender years receive instruction in the various forms of learning,
recognize the same stamp on all the arts, and an intercourse between all
studies, and so they more readily comprehend them all. This is what led
one of the ancient architects, Pytheos, the celebrated builder of the
temple of Minerva at Priene, to say in his Commentaries that an
architect ought to be able to accomplish much more in all the arts and
sciences than the men who, by their own particular kinds of work and the
practice of it, have brought each a single subject to the highest
perfection. But this is in point of fact not realized.

13. For an architect ought not to be and cannot be such a philologian as
was Aristarchus, although not illiterate; nor a musician like
Aristoxenus, though not absolutely ignorant of music; nor a painter like
Apelles, though not unskilful in drawing; nor a sculptor such as was
Myron or Polyclitus, though not unacquainted with the plastic art; nor
again a physician like Hippocrates, though not ignorant of medicine; nor
in the other sciences need he excel in each, though he should not be
unskilful in them. For, in the midst of all this great variety of
subjects, an individual cannot attain to perfection in each, because it
is scarcely in his power to take in and comprehend the general theories
of them.

14. Still, it is not architects alone that cannot in all matters reach
perfection, but even men who individually practise specialties in the
arts do not all attain to the highest point of merit. Therefore, if
among artists working each in a single field not all, but only a few in
an entire generation acquire fame, and that with difficulty, how can an
architect, who has to be skilful in many arts, accomplish not merely the
feat--in itself a great marvel--of being deficient in none of them, but
also that of surpassing all those artists who have devoted themselves
with unremitting industry to single fields?

15. It appears, then, that Pytheos made a mistake by not observing that
the arts are each composed of two things, the actual work and the theory
of it. One of these, the doing of the work, is proper to men trained in
the individual subject, while the other, the theory, is common to all
scholars: for example, to physicians and musicians the rhythmical beat
of the pulse and its metrical movement. But if there is a wound to be
healed or a sick man to be saved from danger, the musician will not
call, for the business will be appropriate to the physician. So in the
case of a musical instrument, not the physician but the musician will be
the man to tune it so that the ears may find their due pleasure in its
strains.

16. Astronomers likewise have a common ground for discussion with
musicians in the harmony of the stars and musical concords in tetrads
and triads of the fourth and the fifth, and with geometricians in the
subject of vision (in Greek [Greek: logos optikos]); and in all other
sciences many points, perhaps all, are common so far as the discussion
of them is concerned. But the actual undertaking of works which are
brought to perfection by the hand and its manipulation is the function
of those who have been specially trained to deal with a single art. It
appears, therefore, that he has done enough and to spare who in each
subject possesses a fairly good knowledge of those parts, with their
principles, which are indispensable for architecture, so that if he is
required to pass judgement and to express approval in the case of those
things or arts, he may not be found wanting. As for men upon whom nature
has bestowed so much ingenuity, acuteness, and memory that they are able
to have a thorough knowledge of geometry, astronomy, music, and the
other arts, they go beyond the functions of architects and become pure
mathematicians. Hence they can readily take up positions against those
arts because many are the artistic weapons with which they are armed.
Such men, however, are rarely found, but there have been such at times;
for example, Aristarchus of Samos, Philolaus and Archytas of Tarentum,
Apollonius of Perga, Eratosthenes of Cyrene, and among Syracusans
Archimedes and Scopinas, who through mathematics and natural philosophy
discovered, expounded, and left to posterity many things in connexion
with mechanics and with sundials.

17. Since, therefore, the possession of such talents due to natural
capacity is not vouchsafed at random to entire nations, but only to a
few great men; since, moreover, the function of the architect requires a
training in all the departments of learning; and finally, since reason,
on account of the wide extent of the subject, concedes that he may
possess not the highest but not even necessarily a moderate knowledge of
the subjects of study, I request, Caesar, both of you and of those who
may read the said books, that if anything is set forth with too little
regard for grammatical rule, it may be pardoned. For it is not as a very
great philosopher, nor as an eloquent rhetorician, nor as a grammarian
trained in the highest principles of his art, that I have striven to
write this work, but as an architect who has had only a dip into those
studies. Still, as regards the efficacy of the art and the theories of
it, I promise and expect that in these volumes I shall undoubtedly show
myself of very considerable importance not only to builders but also to
all scholars.




CHAPTER II

THE FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF ARCHITECTURE


1. Architecture depends on Order (in Greek [Greek: taxis]), Arrangement
(in Greek [Greek: diathesis]), Eurythmy, Symmetry, Propriety, and
Economy (in Greek [Greek: oikonomia]).

2. Order gives due measure to the members of a work considered
separately, and symmetrical agreement to the proportions of the whole.
It is an adjustment according to quantity (in Greek [Greek: posotês]).
By this I mean the selection of modules from the members of the work
itself and, starting from these individual parts of members,
constructing the whole work to correspond. Arrangement includes the
putting of things in their proper places and the elegance of effect
which is due to adjustments appropriate to the character of the work.
Its forms of expression (Greek [Greek: ideai]) are these: groundplan,
elevation, and perspective. A groundplan is made by the proper
successive use of compasses and rule, through which we get outlines for
the plane surfaces of buildings. An elevation is a picture of the front
of a building, set upright and properly drawn in the proportions of the
contemplated work. Perspective is the method of sketching a front with
the sides withdrawing into the background, the lines all meeting in the
centre of a circle. All three come of reflexion and invention. Reflexion
is careful and laborious thought, and watchful attention directed to the
agreeable effect of one's plan. Invention, on the other hand, is the
solving of intricate problems and the discovery of new principles by
means of brilliancy and versatility. These are the departments belonging
under Arrangement.

3. Eurythmy is beauty and fitness in the adjustments of the members.
This is found when the members of a work are of a height suited to their
breadth, of a breadth suited to their length, and, in a word, when they
all correspond symmetrically.

4. Symmetry is a proper agreement between the members of the work
itself, and relation between the different parts and the whole general
scheme, in accordance with a certain part selected as standard. Thus in
the human body there is a kind of symmetrical harmony between forearm,
foot, palm, finger, and other small parts; and so it is with perfect
buildings. In the case of temples, symmetry may be calculated from the
thickness of a column, from a triglyph, or even from a module; in the
ballista, from the hole or from what the Greeks call the [Greek:
peritrêtos]; in a ship, from the space between the tholepins [Greek:
(diapêgma)]; and in other things, from various members.

5. Propriety is that perfection of style which comes when a work is
authoritatively constructed on approved principles. It arises from
prescription [Greek: (thematismô)], from usage, or from nature. From
prescription, in the case of hypaethral edifices, open to the sky, in
honour of Jupiter Lightning, the Heaven, the Sun, or the Moon: for these
are gods whose semblances and manifestations we behold before our very
eyes in the sky when it is cloudless and bright. The temples of
Minerva, Mars, and Hercules, will be Doric, since the virile strength of
these gods makes daintiness entirely inappropriate to their houses. In
temples to Venus, Flora, Proserpine, Spring-Water, and the Nymphs, the
Corinthian order will be found to have peculiar significance, because
these are delicate divinities and so its rather slender outlines, its
flowers, leaves, and ornamental volutes will lend propriety where it is
due. The construction of temples of the Ionic order to Juno, Diana,
Father Bacchus, and the other gods of that kind, will be in keeping with
the middle position which they hold; for the building of such will be an
appropriate combination of the severity of the Doric and the delicacy of
the Corinthian.

6. Propriety arises from usage when buildings having magnificent
interiors are provided with elegant entrance-courts to correspond; for
there will be no propriety in the spectacle of an elegant interior
approached by a low, mean entrance. Or, if dentils be carved in the
cornice of the Doric entablature or triglyphs represented in the Ionic
entablature over the cushion-shaped capitals of the columns, the effect
will be spoilt by the transfer of the peculiarities of the one order of
building to the other, the usage in each class having been fixed long
ago.

7. Finally, propriety will be due to natural causes if, for example, in
the case of all sacred precincts we select very healthy neighbourhoods
with suitable springs of water in the places where the fanes are to be
built, particularly in the case of those to Aesculapius and to Health,
gods by whose healing powers great numbers of the sick are apparently
cured. For when their diseased bodies are transferred from an unhealthy
to a healthy spot, and treated with waters from health-giving springs,
they will the more speedily grow well. The result will be that the
divinity will stand in higher esteem and find his dignity increased, all
owing to the nature of his site. There will also be natural propriety in
using an eastern light for bedrooms and libraries, a western light in
winter for baths and winter apartments, and a northern light for picture
galleries and other places in which a steady light is needed; for that
quarter of the sky grows neither light nor dark with the course of the
sun, but remains steady and unshifting all day long.

8. Economy denotes the proper management of materials and of site, as
well as a thrifty balancing of cost and common sense in the construction
of works. This will be observed if, in the first place, the architect
does not demand things which cannot be found or made ready without great
expense. For example: it is not everywhere that there is plenty of
pitsand, rubble, fir, clear fir, and marble, since they are produced in
different places and to assemble them is difficult and costly. Where
there is no pitsand, we must use the kinds washed up by rivers or by the
sea; the lack of fir and clear fir may be evaded by using cypress,
poplar, elm, or pine; and other problems we must solve in similar ways.

9. A second stage in Economy is reached when we have to plan the
different kinds of dwellings suitable for ordinary householders, for
great wealth, or for the high position of the statesman. A house in town
obviously calls for one form of construction; that into which stream the
products of country estates requires another; this will not be the same
in the case of money-lenders and still different for the opulent and
luxurious; for the powers under whose deliberations the commonwealth is
guided dwellings are to be provided according to their special needs:
and, in a word, the proper form of economy must be observed in building
houses for each and every class.




CHAPTER III

THE DEPARTMENTS OF ARCHITECTURE


1. There are three departments of architecture: the art of building, the
making of timepieces, and the construction of machinery. Building is, in
its turn, divided into two parts, of which the first is the construction
of fortified towns and of works for general use in public places, and
the second is the putting up of structures for private individuals.
There are three classes of public buildings: the first for defensive,
the second for religious, and the third for utilitarian purposes. Under
defence comes the planning of walls, towers, and gates, permanent
devices for resistance against hostile attacks; under religion, the
erection of fanes and temples to the immortal gods; under utility, the
provision of meeting places for public use, such as harbours, markets,
colonnades, baths, theatres, promenades, and all other similar
arrangements in public places.

2. All these must be built with due reference to durability,
convenience, and beauty. Durability will be assured when foundations are
carried down to the solid ground and materials wisely and liberally
selected; convenience, when the arrangement of the apartments is
faultless and presents no hindrance to use, and when each class of
building is assigned to its suitable and appropriate exposure; and
beauty, when the appearance of the work is pleasing and in good taste,
and when its members are in due proportion according to correct
principles of symmetry.




CHAPTER IV

THE SITE OF A CITY


1. For fortified towns the following general principles are to be
observed. First comes the choice of a very healthy site. Such a site
will be high, neither misty nor frosty, and in a climate neither hot nor
cold, but temperate; further, without marshes in the neighbourhood. For
when the morning breezes blow toward the town at sunrise, if they bring
with them mists from marshes and, mingled with the mist, the poisonous
breath of the creatures of the marshes to be wafted into the bodies of
the inhabitants, they will make the site unhealthy. Again, if the town
is on the coast with a southern or western exposure, it will not be
healthy, because in summer the southern sky grows hot at sunrise and is
fiery at noon, while a western exposure grows warm after sunrise, is hot
at noon, and at evening all aglow.

2. These variations in heat and the subsequent cooling off are harmful
to the people living on such sites. The same conclusion may be reached
in the case of inanimate things. For instance, nobody draws the light
for covered wine rooms from the south or west, but rather from the
north, since that quarter is never subject to change but is always
constant and unshifting. So it is with granaries: grain exposed to the
sun's course soon loses its good quality, and provisions and fruit,
unless stored in a place unexposed to the sun's course, do not keep
long.

3. For heat is a universal solvent, melting out of things their power of
resistance, and sucking away and removing their natural strength with
its fiery exhalations so that they grow soft, and hence weak, under its
glow. We see this in the case of iron which, however hard it may
naturally be, yet when heated thoroughly in a furnace fire can be easily
worked into any kind of shape, and still, if cooled while it is soft and
white hot, it hardens again with a mere dip into cold water and takes on
its former quality.

4. We may also recognize the truth of this from the fact that in summer
the heat makes everybody weak, not only in unhealthy but even in healthy
places, and that in winter even the most unhealthy districts are much
healthier because they are given a solidity by the cooling off.
Similarly, persons removed from cold countries to hot cannot endure it
but waste away; whereas those who pass from hot places to the cold
regions of the north, not only do not suffer in health from the change
of residence but even gain by it.

5. It appears, then, that in founding towns we must beware of districts
from which hot winds can spread abroad over the inhabitants. For while
all bodies are composed of the four elements (in Greek [Greek:
stoicheia]), that is, of heat, moisture, the earthy, and air, yet there
are mixtures according to natural temperament which make up the natures
of all the different animals of the world, each after its kind.

6. Therefore, if one of these elements, heat, becomes predominant in any
body whatsoever, it destroys and dissolves all the others with its
violence. This defect may be due to violent heat from certain quarters
of the sky, pouring into the open pores in too great proportion to admit
of a mixture suited to the natural temperament of the body in question.
Again, if too much moisture enters the channels of a body, and thus
introduces disproportion, the other elements, adulterated by the liquid,
are impaired, and the virtues of the mixture dissolved. This defect, in
turn, may arise from the cooling properties of moist winds and breezes
blowing upon the body. In the same way, increase or diminution of the
proportion of air or of the earthy which is natural to the body may
enfeeble the other elements; the predominance of the earthy being due to
overmuch food, that of air to a heavy atmosphere.

7. If one wishes a more accurate understanding of all this, he need only
consider and observe the natures of birds, fishes, and land animals, and
he will thus come to reflect upon distinctions of temperament. One form
of mixture is proper to birds, another to fishes, and a far different
form to land animals. Winged creatures have less of the earthy, less
moisture, heat in moderation, air in large amount. Being made up,
therefore, of the lighter elements, they can more readily soar away into
the air. Fish, with their aquatic nature, being moderately supplied with
heat and made up in great part of air and the earthy, with as little of
moisture as possible, can more easily exist in moisture for the very
reason that they have less of it than of the other elements in their
bodies; and so, when they are drawn to land, they leave life and water
at the same moment. Similarly, the land animals, being moderately
supplied with the elements of air and heat, and having less of the
earthy and a great deal of moisture, cannot long continue alive in the
water, because their portion of moisture is already abundant.

8. Therefore, if all this is as we have explained, our reason showing us
that the bodies of animals are made up of the elements, and these
bodies, as we believe, giving way and breaking up as a result of excess
or deficiency in this or that element, we cannot but believe that we
must take great care to select a very temperate climate for the site of
our city, since healthfulness is, as we have said, the first requisite.

9. I cannot too strongly insist upon the need of a return to the method
of old times. Our ancestors, when about to build a town or an army post,
sacrificed some of the cattle that were wont to feed on the site
proposed and examined their livers. If the livers of the first victims
were dark-coloured or abnormal, they sacrificed others, to see whether
the fault was due to disease or their food. They never began to build
defensive works in a place until after they had made many such trials
and satisfied themselves that good water and food had made the liver
sound and firm. If they continued to find it abnormal, they argued from
this that the food and water supply found in such a place would be just
as unhealthy for man, and so they moved away and changed to another
neighbourhood, healthfulness being their chief object.

10. That pasturage and food may indicate the healthful qualities of a
site is a fact which can be observed and investigated in the case of
certain pastures in Crete, on each side of the river Pothereus, which
separates the two Cretan states of Gnosus and Gortyna. There are cattle
at pasture on the right and left banks of that river, but while the
cattle that feed near Gnosus have the usual spleen, those on the other
side near Gortyna have no perceptible spleen. On investigating the
subject, physicians discovered on this side a kind of herb which the
cattle chew and thus make their spleen small. The herb is therefore
gathered and used as a medicine for the cure of splenetic people. The
Cretans call it [Greek: hasplênon]. From food and water, then, we may
learn whether sites are naturally unhealthy or healthy.

11. If the walled town is built among the marshes themselves, provided
they are by the sea, with a northern or north-eastern exposure, and are
above the level of the seashore, the site will be reasonable enough. For
ditches can be dug to let out the water to the shore, and also in times
of storms the sea swells and comes backing up into the marshes, where
its bitter blend prevents the reproductions of the usual marsh
creatures, while any that swim down from the higher levels to the shore
are killed at once by the saltness to which they are unused. An instance
of this may be found in the Gallic marshes surrounding Altino, Ravenna,
Aquileia, and other towns in places of the kind, close by marshes. They
are marvellously healthy, for the reasons which I have given.

12. But marshes that are stagnant and have no outlets either by rivers
or ditches, like the Pomptine marshes, merely putrefy as they stand,
emitting heavy, unhealthy vapours. A case of a town built in such a spot
was Old Salpia in Apulia, founded by Diomede on his way back from Troy,
or, according to some writers, by Elpias of Rhodes. Year after year
there was sickness, until finally the suffering inhabitants came with a
public petition to Marcus Hostilius and got him to agree to seek and
find them a proper place to which to remove their city. Without delay he
made the most skilful investigations, and at once purchased an estate
near the sea in a healthy place, and asked the Senate and Roman people
for permission to remove the town. He constructed the walls and laid out
the house lots, granting one to each citizen for a mere trifle. This
done, he cut an opening from a lake into the sea, and thus made of the
lake a harbour for the town. The result is that now the people of Salpia
live on a healthy site and at a distance of only four miles from the old
town.




CHAPTER V

THE CITY WALLS


1. After insuring on these principles the healthfulness of the future
city, and selecting a neighbourhood that can supply plenty of food
stuffs to maintain the community, with good roads or else convenient
rivers or seaports affording easy means of transport to the city, the
next thing to do is to lay the foundations for the towers and walls. Dig
down to solid bottom, if it can be found, and lay them therein, going as
deep as the magnitude of the proposed work seems to require. They should
be much thicker than the part of the walls that will appear above
ground, and their structure should be as solid as it can possibly be
laid.

2. The towers must be projected beyond the line of wall, so that an
enemy wishing to approach the wall to carry it by assault may be exposed
to the fire of missiles on his open flank from the towers on his right
and left. Special pains should be taken that there be no easy avenue by
which to storm the wall. The roads should be encompassed at steep
points, and planned so as to approach the gates, not in a straight line,
but from the right to the left; for as a result of this, the right hand
side of the assailants, unprotected by their shields, will be next the
wall. Towns should be laid out not as an exact square nor with salient
angles, but in circular form, to give a view of the enemy from many
points. Defence is difficult where there are salient angles, because the
angle protects the enemy rather than the inhabitants.

3. The thickness of the wall should, in my opinion, be such that armed
men meeting on top of it may pass one another without interference. In
the thickness there should be set a very close succession of ties made
of charred olive wood, binding the two faces of the wall together like
pins, to give it lasting endurance. For that is a material which neither
decay, nor the weather, nor time can harm, but even though buried in the
earth or set in the water it keeps sound and useful forever. And so not
only city walls but substructures in general and all walls that require
a thickness like that of a city wall, will be long in falling to decay
if tied in this manner.

4. The towers should be set at intervals of not more than a bowshot
apart, so that in case of an assault upon any one of them, the enemy may
be repulsed with scorpiones and other means of hurling missiles from the
towers to the right and left. Opposite the inner side of every tower the
wall should be interrupted for a space the width of the tower, and have
only a wooden flooring across, leading to the interior of the tower but
not firmly nailed. This is to be cut away by the defenders in case the
enemy gets possession of any portion of the wall; and if the work is
quickly done, the enemy will not be able to make his way to the other
towers and the rest of the wall unless he is ready to face a fall.

5. The towers themselves must be either round or polygonal. Square
towers are sooner shattered by military engines, for the battering rams
pound their angles to pieces; but in the case of round towers they can
do no harm, being engaged, as it were, in driving wedges to their
centre. The system of fortification by wall and towers may be made
safest by the addition of earthen ramparts, for neither rams, nor
mining, nor other engineering devices can do them any harm.

[Illustration: CONSTRUCTION OF CITY WALLS

(From the edition of Vitruvius by Fra Giocondo, Venice, 1511)]

6. The rampart form of defence, however, is not required in all places,
but only where outside the wall there is high ground from which an
assault on the fortifications may be made over a level space lying
between. In places of this kind we must first make very wide, deep
ditches; next sink foundations for a wall in the bed of the ditch and
build them thick enough to support an earth-work with ease.

7. Then within this substructure lay a second foundation, far enough
inside the first to leave ample room for cohorts in line of battle to
take position on the broad top of the rampart for its defence. Having
laid these two foundations at this distance from one another, build
cross walls between them, uniting the outer and inner foundation, in a
comb-like arrangement, set like the teeth of a saw. With this form of
construction, the enormous burden of earth will be distributed into
small bodies, and will not lie with all its weight in one crushing mass
so as to thrust out the substructures.

8. With regard to the material of which the actual wall should be
constructed or finished, there can be no definite prescription, because
we cannot obtain in all places the supplies that we desire. Dimension
stone, flint, rubble, burnt or unburnt brick,--use them as you find
them. For it is not every neighbourhood or particular locality that can
have a wall built of burnt brick like that at Babylon, where there was
plenty of asphalt to take the place of lime and sand, and yet possibly
each may be provided with materials of equal usefulness so that out of
them a faultless wall may be built to last forever.




CHAPTER VI

THE DIRECTIONS OF THE STREETS; WITH REMARKS ON THE WINDS


1. The town being fortified, the next step is the apportionment of house
lots within the wall and the laying out of streets and alleys with
regard to climatic conditions. They will be properly laid out if
foresight is employed to exclude the winds from the alleys. Cold winds
are disagreeable, hot winds enervating, moist winds unhealthy. We must,
therefore, avoid mistakes in this matter and beware of the common
experience of many communities. For example, Mytilene in the island of
Lesbos is a town built with magnificence and good taste, but its
position shows a lack of foresight. In that community when the wind is
south, the people fall ill; when it is northwest, it sets them coughing;
with a north wind they do indeed recover but cannot stand about in the
alleys and streets, owing to the severe cold.

2. Wind is a flowing wave of air, moving hither and thither
indefinitely. It is produced when heat meets moisture, the rush of heat
generating a mighty current of air. That this is the fact we may learn
from bronze eolipiles, and thus by means of a scientific invention
discover a divine truth lurking in the laws of the heavens. Eolipiles
are hollow bronze balls, with a very small opening through which water
is poured into them. Set before a fire, not a breath issues from them
before they get warm; but as soon as they begin to boil, out comes a
strong blast due to the fire. Thus from this slight and very short
experiment we may understand and judge of the mighty and wonderful laws
of the heavens and the nature of winds.

3. By shutting out the winds from our dwellings, therefore, we shall not
only make the place healthful for people who are well, but also in the
case of diseases due perhaps to unfavourable situations elsewhere, the
patients, who in other healthy places might be cured by a different form
of treatment, will here be more quickly cured by the mildness that comes
from the shutting out of the winds. The diseases which are hard to cure
in neighbourhoods such as those to which I have referred above are
catarrh, hoarseness, coughs, pleurisy, consumption, spitting of blood,
and all others that are cured not by lowering the system but by building
it up. They are hard to cure, first, because they are originally due to
chills; secondly, because the patient's system being already exhausted
by disease, the air there, which is in constant agitation owing to winds
and therefore deteriorated, takes all the sap of life out of their
diseased bodies and leaves them more meagre every day. On the other
hand, a mild, thick air, without draughts and not constantly blowing
back and forth, builds up their frames by its unwavering steadiness, and
so strengthens and restores people who are afflicted with these
diseases.

4. Some have held that there are only four winds: Solanus from due east;
Auster from the south; Favonius from due west; Septentrio from the
north. But more careful investigators tell us that there are eight.
Chief among such was Andronicus of Cyrrhus who in proof built the marble
octagonal tower in Athens. On the several sides of the octagon he
executed reliefs representing the several winds, each facing the point
from which it blows; and on top of the tower he set a conical shaped
piece of marble and on this a bronze Triton with a rod outstretched in
its right hand. It was so contrived as to go round with the wind, always
stopping to face the breeze and holding its rod as a pointer directly
over the representation of the wind that was blowing.

5. Thus Eurus is placed to the southeast between Solanus and Auster:
Africus to the southwest between Auster and Favonius; Caurus, or, as
many call it, Corus, between Favonius and Septentrio; and Aquilo between
Septentrio and Solanus. Such, then, appears to have been his device,
including the numbers and names of the wind and indicating the
directions from which particular winds blow. These facts being thus
determined, to find the directions and quarters of the winds your method
of procedure should be as follows.

6. In the middle of the city place a marble amussium, laying it true by
the level, or else let the spot be made so true by means of rule and
level that no amussium is necessary. In the very centre of that spot set
up a bronze gnomon or "shadow tracker" (in Greek [Greek: skiathêras]).
At about the fifth hour in the morning, take the end of the shadow cast
by this gnomon, and mark it with a point. Then, opening your compasses
to this point which marks the length of the gnomon's shadow, describe a
circle from the centre. In the afternoon watch the shadow of your gnomon
as it lengthens, and when it once more touches the circumference of
this circle and the shadow in the afternoon is equal in length to
that of the morning, mark it with a point.

[Illustration: THE TOWER OF THE WINDS AT ATHENS]

7. From these two points describe with your compasses intersecting arcs,
and through their intersection and the centre let a line be drawn to the
circumference of the circle to give us the quarters of south and north.
Then, using a sixteenth part of the entire circumference of the circle
as a diameter, describe a circle with its centre on the line to the
south, at the point where it crosses the circumference, and put points
to the right and left on the circumference on the south side, repeating
the process on the north side. From the four points thus obtained draw
lines intersecting the centre from one side of the circumference to the
other. Thus we shall have an eighth part of the circumference set out
for Auster and another for Septentrio. The rest of the entire
circumference is then to be divided into three equal parts on each side,
and thus we have designed a figure equally apportioned among the eight
winds. Then let the directions of your streets and alleys be laid down
on the lines of division between the quarters of two winds.

8. On this principle of arrangement the disagreeable force of the winds
will be shut out from dwellings and lines of houses. For if the streets
run full in the face of the winds, their constant blasts rushing in from
the open country, and then confined by narrow alleys, will sweep through
them with great violence. The lines of houses must therefore be directed
away from the quarters from which the winds blow, so that as they come
in they may strike against the angles of the blocks and their force thus
be broken and dispersed.

9. Those who know names for very many winds will perhaps be surprised at
our setting forth that there are only eight. Remembering, however, that
Eratosthenes of Cyrene, employing mathematical theories and geometrical
methods, discovered from the course of the sun, the shadows cast by an
equinoctial gnomon, and the inclination of the heaven that the
circumference of the earth is two hundred and fifty-two thousand stadia,
that is, thirty-one one million five hundred thousand paces, and
observing that an eighth part of this, occupied by a wind, is three
million nine hundred and thirty-seven thousand five hundred paces, they
should not be surprised to find that a single wind, ranging over so wide
a field, is subject to shifts this way and that, leading to a variety of
breezes.

10. So we often have Leuconotus and Altanus blowing respectively to the
right and left of Auster; Libonotus and Subvesperus to the right and
left of Africus; Argestes, and at certain periods the Etesiae, on either
side of Favonius; Circias and Corus on the sides of Caurus; Thracias and
Gallicus on either side of Septentrio; Supernas and Caecias to the right
and left of Aquilo; Carbas, and at a certain period the Ornithiae, on
either side of Solanus; while Eurocircias and Volturnus blow on the
flanks of Eurus which is between them. There are also many other names
for winds derived from localities or from the squalls which sweep from
rivers or down mountains.

11. Then, too, there are the breezes of early morning; for the sun on
emerging from beneath the earth strikes humid air as he returns, and as
he goes climbing up the sky he spreads it out before him, extracting
breezes from the vapour that was there before the dawn. Those that still
blow on after sunrise are classed with Eurus, and hence appears to come
the Greek name [Greek: euros] as the child of the breezes, and the word
for "to-morrow," [Greek: aurion], named from the early morning breezes.
Some people do indeed say that Eratosthenes could not have inferred the
true measure of the earth. Whether true or untrue, it cannot affect the
truth of what I have written on the fixing of the quarters from which
the different winds blow.

[Illustration: DIAGRAM OF THE WINDS (From the edition of Vitruvius by
Fra Giocondo, Venice, 1511)]

12. If he was wrong, the only result will be that the individual winds
may blow, not with the scope expected from his measurement, but with
powers either more or less widely extended. For the readier
understanding of these topics, since I have treated them with brevity,
it has seemed best to me to give two figures, or, as the Greeks say,
[Greek: schêmata], at the end of this book: one designed to show the
precise quarters from which the winds arise; the other, how by turning
the directions of the rows of houses and the streets away from their
full force, we may avoid unhealthy blasts. Let A be the centre of a
plane surface, and B the point to which the shadow of the gnomon reaches
in the morning. Taking A as the centre, open the compasses to the point
B, which marks the shadow, and describe a circle. Put the gnomon back
where it was before and wait for the shadow to lessen and grow again
until in the afternoon it is equal to its length in the morning,
touching the circumference at the point C. Then from the points B and C
describe with the compasses two arcs intersecting at D. Next draw a line
from the point of intersection D through the centre of the circle to the
circumference and call it E F. This line will show where the south and
north lie.

[Illustration]

13. Then find with the compasses a sixteenth part of the entire
circumference; then centre the compasses on the point E where the line
to the south touches the circumference, and set off the points G and H
to the right and left of E. Likewise on the north side, centre the
compasses on the circumference at the point F on the line to the north,
and set off the points I and K to the right and left; then draw lines
through the centre from G to K and from H to I. Thus the space from G to
H will belong to Auster and the south, and the space from I to K will be
that of Septentrio. The rest of the circumference is to be divided
equally into three parts on the right and three on the left, those to
the east at the points L and M, those to the west at the points N and
O. Finally, intersecting lines are to be drawn from M to O and from L
to N. Thus we shall have the circumference divided into eight equal
spaces for the winds. The figure being finished, we shall have at the
eight different divisions, beginning at the south, the letter G between
Eurus and Auster, H between Auster and Africus, N between Africus and
Favonius, O between Favonius and Caurus, K between Caurus and
Septentrio, I between Septentrio and Aquilo, L between Aquilo and
Solanus, and M between Solanus and Eurus. This done, apply a gnomon to
these eight divisions and thus fix the directions of the different
alleys.




CHAPTER VII

THE SITES FOR PUBLIC BUILDINGS


1. Having laid out the alleys and determined the streets, we have next
to treat of the choice of building sites for temples, the forum, and all
other public places, with a view to general convenience and utility. If
the city is on the sea, we should choose ground close to the harbour as
the place where the forum is to be built; but if inland, in the middle
of the town. For the temples, the sites for those of the gods under
whose particular protection the state is thought to rest and for
Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva, should be on the very highest point
commanding a view of the greater part of the city. Mercury should be in
the forum, or, like Isis and Serapis, in the emporium: Apollo and Father
Bacchus near the theatre: Hercules at the circus in communities which
have no gymnasia nor amphitheatres; Mars outside the city but at the
training ground, and so Venus, but at the harbour. It is moreover shown
by the Etruscan diviners in treatises on their science that the fanes of
Venus, Vulcan, and Mars should be situated outside the walls, in order
that the young men and married women may not become habituated in the
city to the temptations incident to the worship of Venus, and that
buildings may be free from the terror of fires through the religious
rites and sacrifices which call the power of Vulcan beyond the walls.
As for Mars, when that divinity is enshrined outside the walls, the
citizens will never take up arms against each other, and he will defend
the city from its enemies and save it from danger in war.

2. Ceres also should be outside the city in a place to which people need
never go except for the purpose of sacrifice. That place should be under
the protection of religion, purity, and good morals. Proper sites should
be set apart for the precincts of the other gods according to the nature
of the sacrifices offered to them.

The principle governing the actual construction of temples and their
symmetry I shall explain in my third and fourth books. In the second I
have thought it best to give an account of the materials used in
buildings with their good qualities and advantages, and then in the
succeeding books to describe and explain the proportions of buildings,
their arrangements, and the different forms of symmetry.




BOOK II




INTRODUCTION


1. Dinocrates, an architect who was full of confidence in his own ideas
and skill, set out from Macedonia, in the reign of Alexander, to go to
the army, being eager to win the approbation of the king. He took with
him from his country letters from relatives and friends to the principal
military men and officers of the court, in order to gain access to them
more readily. Being politely received by them, he asked to be presented
to Alexander as soon as possible. They promised, but were rather slow,
waiting for a suitable opportunity. So Dinocrates, thinking that they
were playing with him, had recourse to his own efforts. He was of very
lofty stature and pleasing countenance, finely formed, and extremely
dignified. Trusting, therefore, to these natural gifts, he undressed
himself in his inn, anointed his body with oil, set a chaplet of poplar
leaves on his head, draped his left shoulder with a lion's skin, and
holding a club in his right hand stalked forth to a place in front of
the tribunal where the king was administering justice.

2. His strange appearance made the people turn round, and this led
Alexander to look at him. In astonishment he gave orders to make way for
him to draw near, and asked who he was. "Dinocrates," quoth he, "a
Macedonian architect, who brings thee ideas and designs worthy of thy
renown. I have made a design for the shaping of Mount Athos into the
statue of a man, in whose left hand I have represented a very spacious
fortified city, and in his right a bowl to receive the water of all the
streams which are in that mountain, so that it may pour from the bowl
into the sea."

3. Alexander, delighted with the idea of his design, immediately
inquired whether there were any fields in the neighbourhood that could
maintain the city in corn. On finding that this was impossible without
transport from beyond the sea, "Dinocrates," quoth he, "I appreciate
your design as excellent in composition, and I am delighted with it, but
I apprehend that anybody who should found a city in that spot would be
censured for bad judgement. For as a newborn babe cannot be nourished
without the nurse's milk, nor conducted to the approaches that lead to
growth in life, so a city cannot thrive without fields and the fruits
thereof pouring into its walls, nor have a large population without
plenty of food, nor maintain its population without a supply of it.
Therefore, while thinking that your design is commendable, I consider
the site as not commendable; but I would have you stay with me, because
I mean to make use of your services."

4. From that time, Dinocrates did not leave the king, but followed him
into Egypt. There Alexander, observing a harbour rendered safe by
nature, an excellent centre for trade, cornfields throughout all Egypt,
and the great usefulness of the mighty river Nile, ordered him to build
the city of Alexandria, named after the king. This was how Dinocrates,
recommended only by his good looks and dignified carriage, came to be so
famous. But as for me, Emperor, nature has not given me stature, age has
marred my face, and my strength is impaired by ill health. Therefore,
since these advantages fail me, I shall win your approval, as I hope, by
the help of my knowledge and my writings.

5. In my first book, I have said what I had to say about the functions
of architecture and the scope of the art, as well as about fortified
towns and the apportionment of building sites within the fortifications.
Although it would next be in order to explain the proper proportions and
symmetry of temples and public buildings, as well as of private houses,
I thought best to postpone this until after I had treated the practical
merits of the materials out of which, when they are brought together,
buildings are constructed with due regard to the proper kind of material
for each part, and until I had shown of what natural elements those
materials are composed. But before beginning to explain their natural
properties, I will prefix the motives which originally gave rise to
buildings and the development of inventions in this field, following in
the steps of early nature and of those writers who have devoted
treatises to the origins of civilization and the investigation of
inventions. My exposition will, therefore, follow the instruction which
I have received from them.




CHAPTER I

THE ORIGIN OF THE DWELLING HOUSE


1. The men of old were born like the wild beasts, in woods, caves, and
groves, and lived on savage fare. As time went on, the thickly crowded
trees in a certain place, tossed by storms and winds, and rubbing their
branches against one another, caught fire, and so the inhabitants of the
place were put to flight, being terrified by the furious flame. After it
subsided, they drew near, and observing that they were very comfortable
standing before the warm fire, they put on logs and, while thus keeping
it alive, brought up other people to it, showing them by signs how much
comfort they got from it. In that gathering of men, at a time when
utterance of sound was purely individual, from daily habits they fixed
upon articulate words just as these had happened to come; then, from
indicating by name things in common use, the result was that in this
chance way they began to talk, and thus originated conversation with one
another.

2. Therefore it was the discovery of fire that originally gave rise to
the coming together of men, to the deliberative assembly, and to social
intercourse. And so, as they kept coming together in greater numbers
into one place, finding themselves naturally gifted beyond the other
animals in not being obliged to walk with faces to the ground, but
upright and gazing upon the splendour of the starry firmament, and also
in being able to do with ease whatever they chose with their hands and
fingers, they began in that first assembly to construct shelters. Some
made them of green boughs, others dug caves on mountain sides, and some,
in imitation of the nests of swallows and the way they built, made
places of refuge out of mud and twigs. Next, by observing the shelters
of others and adding new details to their own inceptions, they
constructed better and better kinds of huts as time went on.

3. And since they were of an imitative and teachable nature, they would
daily point out to each other the results of their building, boasting of
the novelties in it; and thus, with their natural gifts sharpened by
emulation, their standards improved daily. At first they set up forked
stakes connected by twigs and covered these walls with mud. Others made
walls of lumps of dried mud, covering them with reeds and leaves to keep
out the rain and the heat. Finding that such roofs could not stand the
rain during the storms of winter, they built them with peaks daubed with
mud, the roofs sloping and projecting so as to carry off the rain water.

4. That houses originated as I have written above, we can see for
ourselves from the buildings that are to this day constructed of like
materials by foreign tribes: for instance, in Gaul, Spain, Portugal, and
Aquitaine, roofed with oak shingles or thatched. Among the Colchians in
Pontus, where there are forests in plenty, they lay down entire trees
flat on the ground to the right and the left, leaving between them a
space to suit the length of the trees, and then place above these
another pair of trees, resting on the ends of the former and at right
angles with them. These four trees enclose the space for the dwelling.
Then upon these they place sticks of timber, one after the other on the
four sides, crossing each other at the angles, and so, proceeding with
their walls of trees laid perpendicularly above the lowest, they build
up high towers. The interstices, which are left on account of the
thickness of the building material, are stopped up with chips and mud.
As for the roofs, by cutting away the ends of the crossbeams and making
them converge gradually as they lay them across, they bring them up to
the top from the four sides in the shape of a pyramid. They cover it
with leaves and mud, and thus construct the roofs of their towers in a
rude form of the "tortoise" style.

5. On the other hand, the Phrygians, who live in an open country, have
no forests and consequently lack timber. They therefore select a natural
hillock, run a trench through the middle of it, dig passages, and extend
the interior space as widely as the site admits. Over it they build a
pyramidal roof of logs fastened together, and this they cover with reeds
and brushwood, heaping up very high mounds of earth above their
dwellings. Thus their fashion in houses makes their winters very warm
and their summers very cool. Some construct hovels with roofs of rushes
from the swamps. Among other nations, also, in some places there are
huts of the same or a similar method of construction. Likewise at
Marseilles we can see roofs without tiles, made of earth mixed with
straw. In Athens on the Areopagus there is to this day a relic of
antiquity with a mud roof. The hut of Romulus on the Capitol is a
significant reminder of the fashions of old times, and likewise the
thatched roofs of temples or the Citadel.

6. From such specimens we can draw our inferences with regard to the
devices used in the buildings of antiquity, and conclude that they were
similar.

Furthermore, as men made progress by becoming daily more expert in
building, and as their ingenuity was increased by their dexterity so
that from habit they attained to considerable skill, their intelligence
was enlarged by their industry until the more proficient adopted the
trade of carpenters. From these early beginnings, and from the fact that
nature had not only endowed the human race with senses like the rest of
the animals, but had also equipped their minds with the powers of
thought and understanding, thus putting all other animals under their
sway, they next gradually advanced from the construction of buildings to
the other arts and sciences, and so passed from a rude and barbarous
mode of life to civilization and refinement.

7. Then, taking courage and looking forward from the standpoint of
higher ideas born of the multiplication of the arts, they gave up huts
and began to build houses with foundations, having brick or stone
walls, and roofs of timber and tiles; next, observation and application
led them from fluctuating and indefinite conceptions to definite rules
of symmetry. Perceiving that nature had been lavish in the bestowal of
timber and bountiful in stores of building material, they treated this
like careful nurses, and thus developing the refinements of life,
embellished them with luxuries. Therefore I shall now treat, to the best
of my ability, of the things which are suitable to be used in buildings,
showing their qualities and their excellencies.

8. Some persons, however, may find fault with the position of this book,
thinking that it should have been placed first. I will therefore explain
the matter, lest it be thought that I have made a mistake. Being engaged
in writing a complete treatise on architecture, I resolved to set forth
in the first book the branches of learning and studies of which it
consists, to define its departments, and to show of what it is composed.
Hence I have there declared what the qualities of an architect should
be. In the first book, therefore, I have spoken of the function of the
art, but in this I shall discuss the use of the building materials which
nature provides. For this book does not show of what architecture is
composed, but treats of the origin of the building art, how it was
fostered, and how it made progress, step by step, until it reached its
present perfection.

9. This book is, therefore, in its proper order and place.

I will now return to my subject, and with regard to the materials suited
to the construction of buildings will consider their natural formation
and in what proportions their elementary constituents were combined,
making it all clear and not obscure to my readers. For there is no kind
of material, no body, and no thing that can be produced or conceived of,
which is not made up of elementary particles; and nature does not admit
of a truthful exploration in accordance with the doctrines of the
physicists without an accurate demonstration of the primary causes of
things, showing how and why they are as they are.




CHAPTER II

ON THE PRIMORDIAL SUBSTANCE ACCORDING TO THE PHYSICISTS


1. First of all Thales thought that water was the primordial substance
of all things. Heraclitus of Ephesus, surnamed by the Greeks [Greek:
skoteinos] on account of the obscurity of his writings, thought that it
was fire. Democritus and his follower Epicurus thought that it was the
atoms, termed by our writers "bodies that cannot be cut up," or, by
some, "indivisibles." The school of the Pythagoreans added air and the
earthy to the water and fire. Hence, although Democritus did not in a
strict sense name them, but spoke only of indivisible bodies, yet he
seems to have meant these same elements, because when taken by
themselves they cannot be harmed, nor are they susceptible of
dissolution, nor can they be cut up into parts, but throughout time
eternal they forever retain an infinite solidity.

2. All things therefore appear to be made up and produced by the coming
together of these elements, so that they have been distributed by nature
among an infinite number of kinds of things. Hence I believed it right
to treat of the diversity and practical peculiarities of these things as
well as of the qualities which they exhibit in buildings, so that
persons who are intending to build may understand them and so make no
mistake, but may gather materials which are suitable to use in their
buildings.




CHAPTER III

BRICK


1. Beginning with bricks, I shall state of what kind of clay they ought
to be made. They should not be made of sandy or pebbly clay, or of fine
gravel, because when made of these kinds they are in the first place
heavy; and, secondly, when washed by the rain as they stand in walls,
they go to pieces and break up, and the straw in them does not hold
together on account of the roughness of the material. They should rather
be made of white and chalky or of red clay, or even of a coarse grained
gravelly clay. These materials are smooth and therefore durable; they
are not heavy to work with, and are readily laid.

2. Bricks should be made in Spring or Autumn, so that they may dry
uniformly. Those made in Summer are defective, because the fierce heat
of the sun bakes their surface and makes the brick seem dry while inside
it is not dry. And so the shrinking, which follows as they dry, causes
cracks in the parts which were dried before, and these cracks make the
bricks weak. Bricks will be most serviceable if made two years before
using; for they cannot dry thoroughly in less time. When fresh undried
bricks are used in a wall, the stucco covering stiffens and hardens into
a permanent mass, but the bricks settle and cannot keep the same height
as the stucco; the motion caused by their shrinking prevents them from
adhering to it, and they are separated from their union with it. Hence
the stucco, no longer joined to the core of the wall, cannot stand by
itself because it is so thin; it breaks off, and the walls themselves
may perhaps be ruined by their settling. This is so true that at Utica
in constructing walls they use brick only if it is dry and made five
years previously, and approved as such by the authority of a magistrate.

3. There are three kinds of bricks. First, the kind called in Greek
Lydian, being that which our people use, a foot and a half long and one
foot wide. The other two kinds are used by the Greeks in their
buildings. Of these, one is called [Greek: pentadôron], the other
[Greek: tetradôron]. [Greek: Dôron] is the Greek for "palm," for in
Greek [Greek: dôron] means the giving of gifts, and the gift is always
presented in the palm of the hand. A brick five palms square is called
"pentadoron"; one four palms square "tetradoron." Public buildings are
constructed of [Greek: pentadôra], private of [Greek: tetradôra].

4. With these bricks there are also half-bricks. When these are used in
a wall, a course of bricks is laid on one face and a course of
half-bricks on the other, and they are bedded to the line on each face.
The walls are bonded by alternate courses of the two different kinds,
and as the bricks are always laid so as to break joints, this lends
strength and a not unattractive appearance to both sides of such walls.

[Illustration: VITRUVIUS' BRICK-BOND ACCORDING TO REBER]

In the states of Maxilua and Callet, in Further Spain, as well as in
Pitane in Asia Minor, there are bricks which, when finished and dried,
will float on being thrown into water. The reason why they can float
seems to be that the clay of which they are made is like pumice-stone.
So it is light, and also it does not, after being hardened by exposure
to the air, take up or absorb liquid. So these bricks, being of this
light and porous quality, and admitting no moisture into their texture,
must by the laws of nature float in water, like pumice, no matter what
their weight may be. They have therefore great advantages; for they are
not heavy to use in building and, once made, they are not spoiled by bad
weather.




CHAPTER IV

SAND


1. In walls of masonry the first question must be with regard to the
sand, in order that it may be fit to mix into mortar and have no dirt in
it. The kinds of pitsand are these: black, gray, red, and carbuncular.
Of these the best will be found to be that which crackles when rubbed in
the hand, while that which has much dirt in it will not be sharp enough.
Again: throw some sand upon a white garment and then shake it out; if
the garment is not soiled and no dirt adheres to it, the sand is
suitable.

2. But if there are no sandpits from which it can be dug, then we must
sift it out from river beds or from gravel or even from the sea beach.
This kind, however, has these defects when used in masonry: it dries
slowly; the wall cannot be built up without interruption but from time
to time there must be pauses in the work; and such a wall cannot carry
vaultings. Furthermore, when sea-sand is used in walls and these are
coated with stucco, a salty efflorescence is given out which spoils the
surface.

3. But pitsand used in masonry dries quickly, the stucco coating is
permanent, and the walls can support vaultings. I am speaking of sand
fresh from the sandpits. For if it lies unused too long after being
taken out, it is disintegrated by exposure to sun, moon, or hoar frost,
and becomes earthy. So when mixed in masonry, it has no binding power on
the rubble, which consequently settles and down comes the load which the
walls can no longer support. Fresh pitsand, however, in spite of all its
excellence in concrete structures, is not equally useful in stucco, the
richness of which, when the lime and straw are mixed with such sand,
will cause it to crack as it dries on account of the great strength of
the mixture. But river sand, though useless in "signinum" on account of
its thinness, becomes perfectly solid in stucco when thoroughly worked
by means of polishing instruments.




CHAPTER V

LIME


1. Sand and its sources having been thus treated, next with regard to
lime we must be careful that it is burned from a stone which, whether
soft or hard, is in any case white. Lime made of close-grained stone of
the harder sort will be good in structural parts; lime of porous stone,
in stucco. After slaking it, mix your mortar, if using pitsand, in the
proportions of three parts of sand to one of lime; if using river or
sea-sand, mix two parts of sand with one of lime. These will be the
right proportions for the composition of the mixture. Further, in using
river or sea-sand, the addition of a third part composed of burnt brick,
pounded up and sifted, will make your mortar of a better composition to
use.

2. The reason why lime makes a solid structure on being combined with
water and sand seems to be this: that rocks, like all other bodies, are
composed of the four elements. Those which contain a larger proportion
of air, are soft; of water, are tough from the moisture; of earth, hard;
and of fire, more brittle. Therefore, if limestone, without being
burned, is merely pounded up small and then mixed with sand and so put
into the work, the mass does not solidify nor can it hold together. But
if the stone is first thrown into the kiln, it loses its former property
of solidity by exposure to the great heat of the fire, and so with its
strength burnt out and exhausted it is left with its pores open and
empty. Hence, the moisture and air in the body of the stone being burned
out and set free, and only a residuum of heat being left lying in it, if
the stone is then immersed in water, the moisture, before the water can
feel the influence of the fire, makes its way into the open pores; then
the stone begins to get hot, and finally, after it cools off, the heat
is rejected from the body of the lime.

3. Consequently, limestone when taken out of the kiln cannot be as heavy
as when it was thrown in, but on being weighed, though its bulk remains
the same as before, it is found to have lost about a third of its weight
owing to the boiling out of the water. Therefore, its pores being thus
opened and its texture rendered loose, it readily mixes with sand, and
hence the two materials cohere as they dry, unite with the rubble, and
make a solid structure.




CHAPTER VI

POZZOLANA


1. There is also a kind of powder which from natural causes produces
astonishing results. It is found in the neighbourhood of Baiae and in
the country belonging to the towns round about Mt. Vesuvius. This
substance, when mixed with lime and rubble, not only lends strength to
buildings of other kinds, but even when piers of it are constructed in
the sea, they set hard under water. The reason for this seems to be that
the soil on the slopes of the mountains in these neighbourhoods is hot
and full of hot springs. This would not be so unless the mountains had
beneath them huge fires of burning sulphur or alum or asphalt. So the
fire and the heat of the flames, coming up hot from far within through
the fissures, make the soil there light, and the tufa found there is
spongy and free from moisture. Hence, when the three substances, all
formed on a similar principle by the force of fire, are mixed together,
the water suddenly taken in makes them cohere, and the moisture quickly
hardens them so that they set into a mass which neither the waves nor
the force of the water can dissolve.

2. That there is burning heat in these regions may be proved by the
further fact that in the mountains near Baiae, which belongs to the
Cumaeans, there are places excavated to serve as sweating-baths, where
the intense heat that comes from far below bores its way through the
earth, owing to the force of the fire, and passing up appears in these
regions, thus making remarkably good sweating-baths. Likewise also it is
related that in ancient times the tides of heat, swelling and
overflowing from under Mt. Vesuvius, vomited forth fire from the
mountain upon the neighbouring country. Hence, what is called
"sponge-stone" or "Pompeian pumice" appears to have been reduced by
burning from another kind of stone to the condition of the kind which we
see.

3. The kind of sponge-stone taken from this region is not produced
everywhere else, but only about Aetna and among the hills of Mysia which
the Greeks call the "Burnt District," and in other places of the same
peculiar nature. Seeing that in such places there are found hot springs
and warm vapour in excavations on the mountains, and that the ancients
tell us that there were once fires spreading over the fields in those
very regions, it seems to be certain that moisture has been extracted
from the tufa and earth, by the force of fire, just as it is from
limestone in kilns.

4. Therefore, when different and unlike things have been subjected to
the action of fire and thus reduced to the same condition, if after
this, while in a warm, dry state, they are suddenly saturated with
water, there is an effervescence of the heat latent in the bodies of
them all, and this makes them firmly unite and quickly assume the
property of one solid mass.

There will still be the question why Tuscany, although it abounds in hot
springs, does not furnish a powder out of which, on the same principle,
a wall can be made which will set fast under water. I have therefore
thought best to explain how this seems to be, before the question should
be raised.

5. The same kinds of soil are not found in all places and countries
alike, nor is stone found everywhere. Some soils are earthy; others
gravelly, and again pebbly; in other places the material is sandy; in a
word, the properties of the soil are as different and unlike as are the
various countries. In particular, it may be observed that sandpits are
hardly ever lacking in any place within the districts of Italy and
Tuscany which are bounded by the Apennines; whereas across the Apennines
toward the Adriatic none are found, and in Achaea and Asia Minor or, in
short, across the sea, the very term is unknown. Hence it is not in all
the places where boiling springs of hot water abound, that there is the
same combination of favourable circumstances which has been described
above. For things are produced in accordance with the will of nature;
not to suit man's pleasure, but as it were by a chance distribution.

6. Therefore, where the mountains are not earthy but consist of soft
stone, the force of the fire, passing through the fissures in the stone,
sets it afire. The soft and delicate part is burned out, while the hard
part is left. Consequently, while in Campania the burning of the earth
makes ashes, in Tuscany the combustion of the stone makes carbuncular
sand. Both are excellent in walls, but one is better to use for
buildings on land, the other for piers under salt water. The Tuscan
stone is softer in quality than tufa but harder than earth, and being
thoroughly kindled by the violent heat from below, the result is the
production in some places of the kind of sand called carbuncular.

[Illustration: TRAVERTINE QUARRIES ON THE ROMAN CAMPAGNA

1. 2. Ancient quarries. 3. A similar modern quarry.

The top of the rock shows the original ground level. The present ground
level shows the depth to which the rock has been removed.]




CHAPTER VII

STONE


1. I have now spoken of lime and sand, with their varieties and points
of excellence. Next comes the consideration of stone-quarries from which
dimension stone and supplies of rubble to be used in building are taken
and brought together. The stone in quarries is found to be of different
and unlike qualities. In some it is soft: for example, in the environs
of the city at the quarries of Grotta Rossa, Palla, Fidenae, and of the
Alban hills; in others, it is medium, as at Tivoli, at Amiternum, or Mt.
Soracte, and in quarries of this sort; in still others it is hard, as in
lava quarries. There are also numerous other kinds: for instance, in
Campania, red and black tufas; in Umbria, Picenum, and Venetia, white
tufa which can be cut with a toothed saw, like wood.

2. All these soft kinds have the advantage that they can be easily
worked as soon as they have been taken from the quarries. Under cover
they play their part well; but in open and exposed situations the frost
and rime make them crumble, and they go to pieces. On the seacoast, too,
the salt eats away and dissolves them, nor can they stand great heat
either. But travertine and all stone of that class can stand injury
whether from a heavy load laid upon it or from the weather; exposure to
fire, however, it cannot bear, but splits and cracks to pieces at once.
This is because in its natural composition there is but little moisture
and not much of the earthy, but a great deal of air and of fire.
Therefore, it is not only without the earthy and watery elements, but
when fire, expelling the air from it by the operation and force of heat,
penetrates into its inmost parts and occupies the empty spaces of the
fissures, there comes a great glow and the stone is made to burn as
fiercely as do the particles of fire itself.

3. There are also several quarries called Anician in the territory of
Tarquinii, the stone being of the colour of peperino. The principal
workshops lie round the lake of Bolsena and in the prefecture of
Statonia. This stone has innumerable good qualities. Neither the season
of frost nor exposure to fire can harm it, but it remains solid and
lasts to a great age, because there is only a little air and fire in its
natural composition, a moderate amount of moisture, and a great deal of
the earthy. Hence its structure is of close texture and solid, and so it
cannot be injured by the weather or by the force of fire.

4. This may best be seen from monuments in the neighbourhood of the town
of Ferento which are made of stone from these quarries. Among them are
large statues exceedingly well made, images of smaller size, and flowers
and acanthus leaves gracefully carved. Old as these are, they look as
fresh as if they were only just finished. Bronze workers, also, make
moulds for the casting of bronze out of stone from these quarries, and
find it very useful in bronze-founding. If the quarries were only near
Rome, all our buildings might well be constructed from the products of
these workshops.

5. But since, on account of the proximity of the stone-quarries of
Grotta Rossa, Palla, and the others that are nearest to the city,
necessity drives us to make use of their products, we must proceed as
follows, if we wish our work to be finished without flaws. Let the stone
be taken from the quarry two years before building is to begin, and not
in winter but in summer. Then let it lie exposed in an open place. Such
stone as has been damaged by the two years of exposure should be used in
the foundations. The rest, which remains unhurt, has passed the test of
nature and will endure in those parts of the building which are above
ground. This precaution should be observed, not only with dimension
stone, but also with the rubble which is to be used in walls.

[Illustration: Photo. Moscioni

EXAMPLE OF OPUS INCERTUM. THE CIRCULAR TEMPLE AT TIVOLI]




CHAPTER VIII

METHODS OF BUILDING WALLS


1. There are two styles of walls: "opus reticulatum," now used by
everybody, and the ancient style called "opus incertum." Of these, the
reticulatum looks better, but its construction makes it likely to crack,
because its beds and builds spread out in every direction. On the other
hand, in the opus incertum, the rubble, lying in courses and imbricated,
makes a wall which, though not beautiful, is stronger than the
reticulatum.

2. Both kinds should be constructed of the smallest stones, so that the
walls, being thoroughly puddled with the mortar, which is made of lime
and sand, may hold together longer. Since the stones used are soft and
porous, they are apt to suck the moisture out of the mortar and so to
dry it up. But when there is abundance of lime and sand, the wall,
containing more moisture, will not soon lose its strength, for they will
hold it together. But as soon as the moisture is sucked out of the
mortar by the porous rubble, and the lime and sand separate and
disunite, the rubble can no longer adhere to them and the wall will in
time become a ruin.

3. This we may learn from several monuments in the environs of the city,
which are built of marble or dimension stone, but on the inside packed
with masonry between the outer walls. In the course of time, the mortar
has lost its strength, which has been sucked out of it by the porousness
of the rubble; and so the monuments are tumbling down and going to
pieces, with their joints loosened by the settling of the material that
bound them together.

4. He who wishes to avoid such a disaster should leave a cavity behind
the facings, and on the inside build walls two feet thick, made of red
dimension stone or burnt brick or lava in courses, and then bind them to
the fronts by means of iron clamps and lead. For thus his work, being no
mere heap of material but regularly laid in courses, will be strong
enough to last forever without a flaw, because the beds and builds, all
settling equally and bonded at the joints, will not let the work bulge
out, nor allow the fall of the face walls which have been tightly
fastened together.

5. Consequently, the method of construction employed by the Greeks is
not to be despised. They do not use a structure of soft rubble polished
on the outside, but whenever they forsake dimension stone, they lay
courses of lava or of some hard stone, and, as though building with
brick, they bind the upright joints by interchanging the direction of
the stones as they lie in the courses. Thus they attain to a perfection
that will endure to eternity. These structures are of two kinds. One of
them is called "isodomum," the other "pseudisodomum."

6. A wall is called isodomum when all the courses are of equal height;
pseudisodomum, when the rows of courses do not match but run unequally.
Both kinds are strong: first, because the rubble itself is of close
texture and solid, unable to suck the moisture out of the mortar, but
keeping it in its moist condition for a very long period; secondly,
because the beds of the stones, being laid smooth and level to begin
with, keep the mortar from falling, and, as they are bonded throughout
the entire thickness of the wall, they hold together for a very long
period.

7. Another method is that which they call [Greek: emplekton], used also
among us in the country. In this the facings are finished, but the other
stones left in their natural state and then laid with alternate bonding
stones. But our workmen, in their hurry to finish, devote themselves
only to the facings of the walls, setting them upright but filling the
space between with a lot of broken stones and mortar thrown in anyhow.
This makes three different sections in the same structure; two
consisting of facing and one of filling between them. The Greeks,
however, do not build so; but laying their stones level and building
every other stone length-wise into the thickness, they do not fill the
space between, but construct the thickness of their walls in one solid
and unbroken mass from the facings to the interior. Further, at
intervals they lay single stones which run through the entire
thickness of the wall. These stones, which show at each end, are called
[Greek: diatonoi], and by their bonding powers they add very greatly to
the solidity of the walls.

[Illustration: Photo. Moscioni

OPUS RETICULATUM FROM THE THERMAE OF HADRIAN'S VILLA AT TIVOLI]

[Illustration: Photo. Moscioni

EXAMPLE OF OPUS RETICULATUM FROM THE DOORWAY OF THE STOA POECILE. VILLA
OF HADRIAN AT TIVOLI]

8. One who in accordance with these notes will take pains in selecting
his method of construction, may count upon having something that will
last. No walls made of rubble and finished with delicate beauty--no such
walls can escape ruin as time goes on. Hence, when arbitrators are
chosen to set a valuation on party walls, they do not value them at what
they cost to build, but look up the written contract in each case and
then, after deducting from the cost one eightieth for each year that the
wall has been standing, decide that the remainder is the sum to be paid.
They thus in effect pronounce that such walls cannot last more than
eighty years.

9. In the case of brick walls, however, no deduction is made provided
that they are still standing plumb, but they are always valued at what
they cost to build. Hence in some states we may see public buildings and
private houses, as well as those of kings, built of brick: in Athens,
for example, the part of the wall which faces Mt. Hymettus and
Pentelicus; at Patras, the cellae of the temple of Jupiter and Hercules,
which are brick, although on the outside the entablature and columns of
the temple are of stone; in Italy, at Arezzo, an ancient wall
excellently built; at Tralles, the house built for the kings of the
dynasty of Attalus, which is now always granted to the man who holds the
state priesthood. In Sparta, paintings have been taken out of certain
walls by cutting through the bricks, then have been placed in wooden
frames, and so brought to the Comitium to adorn the aedileship of Varro
and Murena.

10. Then there is the house of Croesus which the people of Sardis have
set apart as a place of repose for their fellow-citizens in the
retirement of age,--a "Gerousia" for the guild of the elder men. At
Halicarnassus, the house of that most potent king Mausolus, though
decorated throughout with Proconnesian marble, has walls built of brick
which are to this day of extraordinary strength, and are covered with
stucco so highly polished that they seem to be as glistening as glass.
That king did not use brick from poverty; for he was choke-full of
revenues, being ruler of all Caria.

11. As for his skill and ingenuity as a builder, they may be seen from
what follows. He was born at Melassa, but recognizing the natural
advantages of Halicarnassus as a fortress, and seeing that it was
suitable as a trading centre and that it had a good harbour, he fixed
his residence there. The place had a curvature like that of the seats in
a theatre. On the lowest tier, along the harbour, was built the forum.
About halfway up the curving slope, at the point where the curved
cross-aisle is in a theatre, a broad wide street was laid out, in the
middle of which was built the Mausoleum, a work so remarkable that it is
classed among the Seven Wonders of the World. At the top of the hill, in
the centre, is the fane of Mars, containing a colossal acrolithic statue
by the famous hand of Leochares. That is, some think that this statue is
by Leochares, others by Timotheus. At the extreme right of the summit is
the fane of Venus and Mercury, close to the spring of Salmacis.

12. There is a mistaken idea that this spring infects those who drink of
it with an unnatural lewdness. It will not be out of place to explain
how this idea came to spread throughout the world from a mistake in the
telling of the tale. It cannot be that the water makes men effeminate
and unchaste, as it is said to do; for the spring is of remarkable
clearness and excellent in flavour. The fact is that when Melas and
Arevanias came there from Argos and Troezen and founded a colony
together, they drove out the Carians and Lelegans who were barbarians.
These took refuge in the mountains, and, uniting there, used to make
raids, plundering the Greeks and laying their country waste in a cruel
manner. Later, one of the colonists, to make money, set up a
well-stocked shop, near the spring because the water was so good, and
the way in which he carried it on attracted the barbarians. So they
began to come down, one at a time, and to meet with society, and thus
they were brought back of their own accord, giving up their rough and
savage ways for the delights of Greek customs. Hence this water acquired
its peculiar reputation, not because it really induced unchastity, but
because those barbarians were softened by the charm of civilization.

[Illustration: THE MAUSOLEUM AT HALICARNASSUS AS RESTORED BY FRIEDRICH
ADLER]

13. But since I have been tempted into giving a description of this
fortified place, it remains to finish my account of it. Corresponding to
the fane of Venus and the spring described above, which are on the
right, we have on the extreme left the royal palace which king Mausolus
built there in accordance with a plan all his own. To the right it
commands a view of the forum, the harbour, and the entire line of
fortifications, while just below it, to the left, there is a concealed
harbour, hidden under the walls in such a way that nobody could see or
know what was going on in it. Only the king himself could, in case of
need, give orders from his own palace to the oarsmen and soldiers,
without the knowledge of anybody else.

14. After the death of Mausolus, his wife Artemisia became queen, and
the Rhodians, regarding it as an outrage that a woman should be ruler of
the states of all Caria, fitted out a fleet and sallied forth to seize
upon the kingdom. When news of this reached Artemisia, she gave orders
that her fleet should be hidden away in that harbour with oarsmen and
marines mustered and concealed, but that the rest of the citizens should
take their places on the city wall. After the Rhodians had landed at the
larger harbour with their well-equipped fleet, she ordered the people on
the wall to cheer them and to promise that they would deliver up the
town. Then, when they had passed inside the wall, leaving their fleet
empty, Artemisia suddenly made a canal which led to the sea, brought her
fleet thus out of the smaller harbour, and so sailed into the larger.
Disembarking her soldiers, she towed the empty fleet of the Rhodians out
to sea. So the Rhodians were surrounded without means of retreat, and
were slain in the very forum.

15. So Artemisia embarked her own soldiers and oarsmen in the ships of
the Rhodians and set forth for Rhodes. The Rhodians, beholding their own
ships approaching wreathed with laurel, supposed that their
fellow-citizens were returning victorious, and admitted the enemy. Then
Artemisia, after taking Rhodes and killing its leading men, put up in
the city of Rhodes a trophy of her victory, including two bronze
statues, one representing the state of the Rhodians, the other herself.
Herself she fashioned in the act of branding the state of the Rhodians.
In later times the Rhodians, labouring under the religious scruple which
makes it a sin to remove trophies once they are dedicated, constructed a
building to surround the place, and thus by the erection of the "Grecian
Station" covered it so that nobody could see it, and ordered that the
building be called "[Greek: abaton]."

16. Since such very powerful kings have not disdained walls built of
brick, although with their revenues and from booty they might often have
had them not only of masonry or dimension stone but even of marble, I
think that one ought not to reject buildings made of brick-work,
provided that they are properly "topped." But I shall explain why this
kind of structure should not be used by the Roman people within the
city, not omitting the reasons and the grounds for them.

17. The laws of the state forbid that walls abutting on public property
should be more than a foot and a half thick. The other walls are built
of the same thickness in order to save space. Now brick walls, unless
two or three bricks thick, cannot support more than one story; certainly
not if they are only a foot and a half in thickness. But with the
present importance of the city and the unlimited numbers of its
population, it is necessary to increase the number of dwelling-places
indefinitely. Consequently, as the ground floors could not admit of so
great a number living in the city, the nature of the case has made it
necessary to find relief by making the buildings high. In these tall
piles reared with piers of stone, walls of burnt brick, and partitions
of rubble work, and provided with floor after floor, the upper stories
can be partitioned off into rooms to very great advantage. The
accommodations within the city walls being thus multiplied as a result
of the many floors high in the air, the Roman people easily find
excellent places in which to live.

18. It has now been explained how limitations of building space
necessarily forbid the employment of brick walls within the city. When
it becomes necessary to use them outside the city, they should be
constructed as follows in order to be perfect and durable. On the top of
the wall lay a structure of burnt brick, about a foot and a half in
height, under the tiles and projecting like a coping. Thus the defects
usual in these walls can be avoided. For when the tiles on the roof are
broken or thrown down by the wind so that rainwater can leak through,
this burnt brick coating will prevent the crude brick from being
damaged, and the cornice-like projection will throw off the drops beyond
the vertical face, and thus the walls, though of crude brick structure,
will be preserved intact.

19. With regard to burnt brick, nobody can tell offhand whether it is of
the best or unfit to use in a wall, because its strength can be tested
only after it has been used on a roof and exposed to bad weather and
time--then, if it is good it is accepted. If not made of good clay or if
not baked sufficiently, it shows itself defective there when exposed to
frosts and rime. Brick that will not stand exposure on roofs can never
be strong enough to carry its load in a wall. Hence the strongest burnt
brick walls are those which are constructed out of old roofing tiles.

20. As for "wattle and daub" I could wish that it had never been
invented. The more it saves in time and gains in space, the greater and
the more general is the disaster that it may cause; for it is made to
catch fire, like torches. It seems better, therefore, to spend on walls
of burnt brick, and be at expense, than to save with "wattle and daub,"
and be in danger. And, in the stucco covering, too, it makes cracks from
the inside by the arrangement of its studs and girts. For these swell
with moisture as they are daubed, and then contract as they dry, and, by
their shrinking, cause the solid stucco to split. But since some are
obliged to use it either to save time or money, or for partitions on an
unsupported span, the proper method of construction is as follows. Give
it a high foundation so that it may nowhere come in contact with the
broken stone-work composing the floor; for if it is sunk in this, it
rots in course of time, then settles and sags forward, and so breaks
through the surface of the stucco covering.

I have now explained to the best of my ability the subject of walls, and
the preparation of the different kinds of material employed, with their
advantages and disadvantages. Next, following the guidance of Nature, I
shall treat of the framework and the kinds of wood used in it, showing
how they may be procured of a sort that will not give way as time goes
on.




CHAPTER IX

TIMBER


1. Timber should be felled between early Autumn and the time when
Favonius begins to blow. For in Spring all trees become pregnant, and
they are all employing their natural vigour in the production of leaves
and of the fruits that return every year. The requirements of that
season render them empty and swollen, and so they are weak and feeble
because of their looseness of texture. This is also the case with women
who have conceived. Their bodies are not considered perfectly healthy
until the child is born; hence, pregnant slaves, when offered for sale,
are not warranted sound, because the fetus as it grows within the body
takes to itself as nourishment all the best qualities of the mother's
food, and so the stronger it becomes as the full time for birth
approaches, the less compact it allows that body to be from which it is
produced. After the birth of the child, what was heretofore taken to
promote the growth of another creature is now set free by the delivery
of the newborn, and the channels being now empty and open, the body will
take it in by lapping up its juices, and thus becomes compact and
returns to the natural strength which it had before.

2. On the same principle, with the ripening of the fruits in Autumn the
leaves begin to wither and the trees, taking up their sap from the earth
through the roots, recover themselves and are restored to their former
solid texture. But the strong air of winter compresses and solidifies
them during the time above mentioned. Consequently, if the timber is
felled on the principle and at the time above mentioned, it will be
felled at the proper season.

3. In felling a tree we should cut into the trunk of it to the very
heart, and then leave it standing so that the sap may drain out drop by
drop throughout the whole of it. In this way the useless liquid which is
within will run out through the sapwood instead of having to die in a
mass of decay, thus spoiling the quality of the timber. Then and not
till then, the tree being drained dry and the sap no longer dripping,
let it be felled and it will be in the highest state of usefulness.

4. That this is so may be seen in the case of fruit trees. When these
are tapped at the base and pruned, each at the proper time, they pour
out from the heart through the tapholes all the superfluous and
corrupting fluid which they contain, and thus the draining process makes
them durable. But when the juices of trees have no means of escape, they
clot and rot in them, making the trees hollow and good for nothing.
Therefore, if the draining process does not exhaust them while they are
still alive, there is no doubt that, if the same principle is followed
in felling them for timber, they will last a long time and be very
useful in buildings.

5. Trees vary and are unlike one another in their qualities. Thus it is
with the oak, elm, poplar, cypress, fir, and the others which are most
suitable to use in buildings. The oak, for instance, has not the
efficacy of the fir, nor the cypress that of the elm. Nor in the case of
other trees, is it natural that they should be alike; but the individual
kinds are effective in building, some in one way, some in another, owing
to the different properties of their elements.

6. To begin with fir: it contains a great deal of air and fire with very
little moisture and the earthy, so that, as its natural properties are
of the lighter class, it is not heavy. Hence, its consistence being
naturally stiff, it does not easily bend under the load, and keeps its
straightness when used in the framework. But it contains so much heat
that it generates and encourages decay, which spoils it; and it also
kindles fire quickly because of the air in its body, which is so open
that it takes in fire and so gives out a great flame.

7. The part which is nearest to the earth before the tree is cut down
takes up moisture through the roots from the immediate neighbourhood and
hence is without knots and is "clear." But the upper part, on account of
the great heat in it, throws up branches into the air through the knots;
and this, when it is cut off about twenty feet from the ground and then
hewn, is called "knotwood" because of its hardness and knottiness. The
lowest part, after the tree is cut down and the sapwood of the same
thrown away, is split up into four pieces and prepared for joiner's
work, and so is called "clearstock."

8. Oak, on the other hand, having enough and to spare of the earthy
among its elements, and containing but little moisture, air, and fire,
lasts for an unlimited period when buried in underground structures. It
follows that when exposed to moisture, as its texture is not loose and
porous, it cannot take in liquid on account of its compactness, but,
withdrawing from the moisture, it resists it and warps, thus making
cracks in the structures in which it is used.

9. The winter oak, being composed of a moderate amount of all the
elements, is very useful in buildings, but when in a moist place, it
takes in water to its centre through its pores, its air and fire being
expelled by the influence of the moisture, and so it rots. The Turkey
oak and the beech, both containing a mixture of moisture, fire, and the
earthy, with a great deal of air, through this loose texture take in
moisture to their centre and soon decay. White and black poplar, as well
as willow, linden, and the agnus castus, containing an abundance of
fire and air, a moderate amount of moisture, and only a small amount of
the earthy, are composed of a mixture which is proportionately rather
light, and so they are of great service from their stiffness. Although
on account of the mixture of the earthy in them they are not hard, yet
their loose texture makes them gleaming white, and they are a convenient
material to use in carving.

10. The alder, which is produced close by river banks, and which seems
to be altogether useless as building material, has really excellent
qualities. It is composed of a very large proportion of air and fire,
not much of the earthy, and only a little moisture. Hence, in swampy
places, alder piles driven close together beneath the foundations of
buildings take in the water which their own consistence lacks and remain
imperishable forever, supporting structures of enormous weight and
keeping them from decay. Thus a material which cannot last even a little
while above ground, endures for a long time when covered with moisture.

11. One can see this at its best in Ravenna; for there all the
buildings, both public and private, have piles of this sort beneath
their foundations. The elm and the ash contain a very great amount of
moisture, a minimum of air and fire, and a moderate mixture of the
earthy in their composition. When put in shape for use in buildings they
are tough and, having no stiffness on account of the weight of moisture
in them, soon bend. But when they become dry with age, or are allowed to
lose their sap and die standing in the open, they get harder, and from
their toughness supply a strong material for dowels to be used in joints
and other articulations.

12. The hornbeam, which has a very small amount of fire and of the
earthy in its composition, but a very great proportion of air and
moisture, is not a wood that breaks easily, and is very convenient to
handle. Hence, the Greeks call it "zygia," because they make of it yokes
for their draught-animals, and their word for yoke is [Greek: zyga].
Cypress and pine are also just as admirable; for although they contain
an abundance of moisture mixed with an equivalent composed of all the
other elements, and so are apt to warp when used in buildings on account
of this superfluity of moisture, yet they can be kept to a great age
without rotting, because the liquid contained within their substances
has a bitter taste which by its pungency prevents the entrance of decay
or of those little creatures which are destructive. Hence, buildings
made of these kinds of wood last for an unending period of time.

13. The cedar and the juniper tree have the same uses and good
qualities, but, while the cypress and pine yield resin, from the cedar
is produced an oil called cedar-oil. Books as well as other things
smeared with this are not hurt by worms or decay. The foliage of this
tree is like that of the cypress but the grain of the wood is straight.
The statue of Diana in the temple at Ephesus is made of it, and so are
the coffered ceilings both there and in all other famous fanes, because
that wood is everlasting. The tree grows chiefly in Crete, Africa, and
in some districts of Syria.

14. The larch, known only to the people of the towns on the banks of the
river Po and the shores of the Adriatic, is not only preserved from
decay and the worm by the great bitterness of its sap, but also it
cannot be kindled with fire nor ignite of itself, unless like stone in a
limekiln it is burned with other wood. And even then it does not take
fire nor produce burning coals, but after a long time it slowly consumes
away. This is because there is a very small proportion of the elements
of fire and air in its composition, which is a dense and solid mass of
moisture and the earthy, so that it has no open pores through which fire
can find its way; but it repels the force of fire and does not let
itself be harmed by it quickly. Further, its weight will not let it
float in water, so that when transported it is loaded on shipboard or on
rafts made of fir.

15. It is worth while to know how this wood was discovered. The divine
Caesar, being with his army in the neighbourhood of the Alps, and having
ordered the towns to furnish supplies, the inhabitants of a fortified
stronghold there, called Larignum, trusting in the natural strength of
their defences, refused to obey his command. So the general ordered his
forces to the assault. In front of the gate of this stronghold there
was a tower, made of beams of this wood laid in alternating directions
at right angles to each other, like a funeral pyre, and built high, so
that they could drive off an attacking party by throwing stakes and
stones from the top. When it was observed that they had no other
missiles than stakes, and that these could not be hurled very far from
the wall on account of the weight, orders were given to approach and to
throw bundles of brushwood and lighted torches at this outwork. These
the soldiers soon got together.

16. The flames soon kindled the brushwood which lay about that wooden
structure and, rising towards heaven, made everybody think that the
whole pile had fallen. But when the fire had burned itself out and
subsided, and the tower appeared to view entirely uninjured, Caesar in
amazement gave orders that they should be surrounded with a palisade,
built beyond the range of missiles. So the townspeople were frightened
into surrendering, and were then asked where that wood came from which
was not harmed by fire. They pointed to trees of the kind under
discussion, of which there are very great numbers in that vicinity. And
so, as that stronghold was called Larignum, the wood was called larch.
It is transported by way of the Po to Ravenna, and is to be had in Fano,
Pesaro, Ancona, and the other towns in that neighbourhood. If there were
only a ready method of carrying this material to Rome, it would be of
the greatest use in buildings; if not for general purposes, yet at least
if the boards used in the eaves running round blocks of houses were made
of it, the buildings would be free from the danger of fire spreading
across to them, because such boards can neither take fire from flames or
from burning coals, nor ignite spontaneously.

17. The leaves of these trees are like those of the pine; timber from
them comes in long lengths, is as easily wrought in joiner's work as is
the clearwood of fir, and contains a liquid resin, of the colour of
Attic honey, which is good for consumptives.

With regard to the different kinds of timber, I have now explained of
what natural properties they appear to be composed, and how they were
produced. It remains to consider the question why the highland fir, as
it is called in Rome, is inferior, while the lowland fir is extremely
useful in buildings so far as durability is concerned; and further to
explain how it is that their bad or good qualities seem to be due to the
peculiarities of their neighbourhood, so that this subject may be
clearer to those who examine it.




CHAPTER X

HIGHLAND AND LOWLAND FIR


1. The first spurs of the Apennines arise from the Tuscan sea between
the Alps and the most distant borders of Tuscany. The mountain range
itself bends round and, almost touching the shores of the Adriatic in
the middle of the curve, completes its circuit by extending to the
strait on the other shore. Hence, this side of the curve, sloping
towards the districts of Tuscany and Campania, lies basking in the sun,
being constantly exposed to the full force of its rays all day. But the
further side, sloping towards the Upper Sea and having a northern
exposure, is constantly shrouded in shadowy darkness. Hence the trees
which grow on that side, being nourished by the moisture, not only
themselves attain to a very large size, but their fibre too, filled full
of moisture, is swollen and distended with abundance of liquid. When
they lose their vitality after being felled and hewn, the fibre retains
its stiffness, and the trees as they dry become hollow and frail on
account of their porosity, and hence cannot last when used in buildings.

2. But trees which grow in places facing the course of the sun are not
of porous fibre but are solid, being drained by the dryness; for the sun
absorbs moisture and draws it out of trees as well as out of the earth.
The trees in sunny neighbourhoods, therefore, being solidified by the
compact texture of their fibre, and not being porous from moisture, are
very useful, so far as durability goes, when they are hewn into timber.
Hence the lowland firs, being conveyed from sunny places, are better
than those highland firs, which are brought here from shady places.

3. To the best of my mature consideration, I have now treated the
materials which are necessary in the construction of buildings, the
proportionate amount of the elements which are seen to be contained in
their natural composition, and the points of excellence and defects of
each kind, so that they may be not unknown to those who are engaged in
building. Thus those who can follow the directions contained in this
treatise will be better informed in advance, and able to select, among
the different kinds, those which will be of use in their works.
Therefore, since the preliminaries have been explained, the buildings
themselves will be treated in the remaining books; and first, as due
order requires, I shall in the next book write of the temples of the
immortal gods and their symmetrical proportions.




BOOK III




INTRODUCTION


1. Apollo at Delphi, through the oracular utterance of his priestess,
pronounced Socrates the wisest of men. Of him it is related that he said
with sagacity and great learning that the human breast should have been
furnished with open windows, so that men might not keep their feelings
concealed, but have them open to the view. Oh that nature, following his
idea, had constructed them thus unfolded and obvious to the view! For if
it had been so, not merely the virtues and vices of the mind would be
easily visible, but also its knowledge of branches of study, displayed
to the contemplation of the eyes, would not need testing by
untrustworthy powers of judgement, but a singular and lasting influence
would thus be lent to the learned and wise. However, since they are not
so constructed, but are as nature willed them to be, it is impossible
for men, while natural abilities are concealed in the breast, to form a
judgement on the quality of the knowledge of the arts which is thus
deeply hidden. And if artists themselves testify to their own skill,
they can never, unless they are wealthy or famous from the age of their
studios, or unless they are also possessed of the public favour and of
eloquence, have an influence commensurate with their devotion to their
pursuits, so that people may believe them to have the knowledge which
they profess to have.

2. In particular we can learn this from the case of the sculptors and
painters of antiquity. Those among them who were marked by high station
or favourably recommended have come down to posterity with a name that
will last forever; for instance, Myron, Polycletus, Phidias, Lysippus,
and the others who have attained to fame by their art. For they acquired
it by the execution of works for great states or for kings or for
citizens of rank. But those who, being men of no less enthusiasm,
natural ability, and dexterity than those famous artists, and who
executed no less perfectly finished works for citizens of low station,
are unremembered, not because they lacked diligence or dexterity in
their art, but because fortune failed them; for instance, Teleas of
Athens, Chion of Corinth, Myager the Phocaean, Pharax of Ephesus, Boedas
of Byzantium, and many others. Then there were painters like Aristomenes
of Thasos, Polycles and Andron of Ephesus, Theo of Magnesia, and others
who were not deficient in diligence or enthusiasm for their art or in
dexterity, but whose narrow means or ill-luck, or the higher position of
their rivals in the struggle for honour, stood in the way of their
attaining distinction.

3. Of course, we need not be surprised if artistic excellence goes
unrecognized on account of being unknown; but there should be the
greatest indignation when, as often, good judges are flattered by the
charm of social entertainments into an approbation which is a mere
pretence. Now if, as Socrates wished, our feelings, opinions, and
knowledge gained by study had been manifest and clear to see, popularity
and adulation would have no influence, but men who had reached the
height of knowledge by means of correct and definite courses of study,
would be given commissions without any effort on their part. However,
since such things are not plain and apparent to the view, as we think
they should have been, and since I observe that the uneducated rather
than the educated are in higher favour, thinking it beneath me to engage
with the uneducated in the struggle for honour, I prefer to show the
excellence of our department of knowledge by the publication of this
treatise.

4. In my first book, Emperor, I described to you the art, with its
points of excellence, the different kinds of training with which the
architect ought to be equipped, adding the reasons why he ought to be
skilful in them, and I divided up the subject of architecture as a whole
among its departments, duly defining the limits of each. Next, as was
preëminent and necessary, I explained on scientific principles the
method of selecting healthy sites for fortified towns, pointed out by
geometrical figures the different winds and the quarters from which they
blow, and showed the proper way to lay out the lines of streets and rows
of houses within the walls. Here I fixed the end of my first book. In
the second, on building materials, I treated their various advantages in
structures, and the natural properties of which they are composed. In
this third book I shall speak of the temples of the immortal gods,
describing and explaining them in the proper manner.




CHAPTER I

ON SYMMETRY: IN TEMPLES AND IN THE HUMAN BODY


1. The design of a temple depends on symmetry, the principles of which
must be most carefully observed by the architect. They are due to
proportion, in Greek [Greek: analogia]. Proportion is a correspondence
among the measures of the members of an entire work, and of the whole to
a certain part selected as standard. From this result the principles of
symmetry. Without symmetry and proportion there can be no principles in
the design of any temple; that is, if there is no precise relation
between its members, as in the case of those of a well shaped man.

2. For the human body is so designed by nature that the face, from the
chin to the top of the forehead and the lowest roots of the hair, is a
tenth part of the whole height; the open hand from the wrist to the tip
of the middle finger is just the same; the head from the chin to the
crown is an eighth, and with the neck and shoulder from the top of the
breast to the lowest roots of the hair is a sixth; from the middle of
the breast to the summit of the crown is a fourth. If we take the height
of the face itself, the distance from the bottom of the chin to the
under side of the nostrils is one third of it; the nose from the under
side of the nostrils to a line between the eyebrows is the same; from
there to the lowest roots of the hair is also a third, comprising the
forehead. The length of the foot is one sixth of the height of the body;
of the forearm, one fourth; and the breadth of the breast is also one
fourth. The other members, too, have their own symmetrical proportions,
and it was by employing them that the famous painters and sculptors of
antiquity attained to great and endless renown.

3. Similarly, in the members of a temple there ought to be the greatest
harmony in the symmetrical relations of the different parts to the
general magnitude of the whole. Then again, in the human body the
central point is naturally the navel. For if a man be placed flat on his
back, with his hands and feet extended, and a pair of compasses centred
at his navel, the fingers and toes of his two hands and feet will touch
the circumference of a circle described therefrom. And just as the human
body yields a circular outline, so too a square figure may be found from
it. For if we measure the distance from the soles of the feet to the top
of the head, and then apply that measure to the outstretched arms, the
breadth will be found to be the same as the height, as in the case of
plane surfaces which are perfectly square.

4. Therefore, since nature has designed the human body so that its
members are duly proportioned to the frame as a whole, it appears that
the ancients had good reason for their rule, that in perfect buildings
the different members must be in exact symmetrical relations to the
whole general scheme. Hence, while transmitting to us the proper
arrangements for buildings of all kinds, they were particularly careful
to do so in the case of temples of the gods, buildings in which merits
and faults usually last forever.

5. Further, it was from the members of the body that they derived the
fundamental ideas of the measures which are obviously necessary in all
works, as the finger, palm, foot, and cubit. These they apportioned so
as to form the "perfect number," called in Greek [Greek: teleion], and
as the perfect number the ancients fixed upon ten. For it is from the
number of the fingers of the hand that the palm is found, and the foot
from the palm. Again, while ten is naturally perfect, as being made up
by the fingers of the two palms, Plato also held that this number was
perfect because ten is composed of the individual units, called by the
Greeks [Greek: monades]. But as soon as eleven or twelve is reached, the
numbers, being excessive, cannot be perfect until they come to ten for
the second time; for the component parts of that number are the
individual units.

6. The mathematicians, however, maintaining a different view, have said
that the perfect number is six, because this number is composed of
integral parts which are suited numerically to their method of
reckoning: thus, one is one sixth; two is one third; three is one half;
four is two thirds, or [Greek: dimoiros] as they call it; five is five
sixths, called [Greek: pentamoiros]; and six is the perfect number. As
the number goes on growing larger, the addition of a unit above six is
the [Greek: ephektos]; eight, formed by the addition of a third part of
six, is the integer and a third, called [Greek: epitritos]; the addition
of one half makes nine, the integer and a half, termed [Greek:
hêmiolios]; the addition of two thirds, making the number ten, is the
integer and two thirds, which they call [Greek: epidimoiros]; in the
number eleven, where five are added, we have the five sixths, called
[Greek: epipemptos]; finally, twelve, being composed of the two simple
integers, is called [Greek: diplasios].

7. And further, as the foot is one sixth of a man's height, the height
of the body as expressed in number of feet being limited to six, they
held that this was the perfect number, and observed that the cubit
consisted of six palms or of twenty-four fingers. This principle seems
to have been followed by the states of Greece. As the cubit consisted of
six palms, they made the drachma, which they used as their unit, consist
in the same way of six bronze coins, like our _asses_, which they call
obols; and, to correspond to the fingers, divided the drachma into
twenty-four quarter-obols, which some call dichalca others trichalca.

8. But our countrymen at first fixed upon the ancient number and made
ten bronze pieces go to the denarius, and this is the origin of the name
which is applied to the denarius to this day. And the fourth part of it,
consisting of two asses and half of a third, they called "sesterce." But
later, observing that six and ten were both of them perfect numbers,
they combined the two, and thus made the most perfect number, sixteen.
They found their authority for this in the foot. For if we take two
palms from the cubit, there remains the foot of four palms; but the palm
contains four fingers. Hence the foot contains sixteen fingers, and the
denarius the same number of bronze _asses_.

9. Therefore, if it is agreed that number was found out from the human
fingers, and that there is a symmetrical correspondence between the
members separately and the entire form of the body, in accordance with a
certain part selected as standard, we can have nothing but respect for
those who, in constructing temples of the immortal gods, have so
arranged the members of the works that both the separate parts and the
whole design may harmonize in their proportions and symmetry.




CHAPTER II

CLASSIFICATION OF TEMPLES


1. There are certain elementary forms on which the general aspect of a
temple depends. First there is the temple in antis, or [Greek: naos en
parastasin] as it is called in Greek; then the prostyle, amphiprostyle,
peripteral, pseudodipteral, dipteral, and hypaethral. These different
forms may be described as follows.

2. It will be a temple in antis when it has antae carried out in front
of the walls which enclose the cella, and in the middle, between the
antae, two columns, and over them the pediment constructed in the
symmetrical proportions to be described later in this work. An example
will be found at the Three Fortunes, in that one of the three which is
nearest the Colline gate.

3. The prostyle is in all respects like the temple in antis, except that
at the corners, opposite the antae, it has two columns, and that it has
architraves not only in front, as in the case of the temple in antis,
but also one to the right and one to the left in the wings. An example
of this is the temple of Jove and Faunus in the Island of the Tiber.

4. The amphiprostyle is in all other respects like the prostyle, but has
besides, in the rear, the same arrangement of columns and pediment.

5. A temple will be peripteral that has six columns in front and six in
the rear, with eleven on each side including the corner columns. Let
the columns be so placed as to leave a space, the width of an
intercolumniation, all round between the walls and the rows of columns
on the outside, thus forming a walk round the cella of the temple, as
in the cases of the temple of Jupiter Stator by Hermodorus in the
Portico of Metellus, and the Marian temple of Honour and Valour
constructed by Mucius, which has no portico in the rear.

[Illustration: THE CLASSIFICATION OF TEMPLES ACCORDING TO THE
ARRANGEMENTS OF THE COLONNADES]

[Illustration: THE HYPAETHRAL TEMPLE OF VITRUVIUS COMPARED WITH THE
PARTHENON AND THE TEMPLE OF APOLLO NEAR MILETUS]

6. The pseudodipteral is so constructed that in front and in the rear
there are in each case eight columns, with fifteen on each side,
including the corner columns. The walls of the cella in front and in the
rear should be directly over against the four middle columns. Thus there
will be a space, the width of two intercolumniations plus the thickness
of the lower diameter of a column, all round between the walls and the
rows of columns on the outside. There is no example of this in Rome, but
at Magnesia there is the temple of Diana by Hermogenes, and that of
Apollo at Alabanda by Mnesthes.

7. The dipteral also is octastyle in both front and rear porticoes, but
it has two rows of columns all round the temple, like the temple of
Quirinus, which is Doric, and the temple of Diana at Ephesus, planned by
Chersiphron, which is Ionic.

8. The hypaethral is decastyle in both front and rear porticoes. In
everything else it is the same as the dipteral, but inside it has two
tiers of columns set out from the wall all round, like the colonnade of
a peristyle. The central part is open to the sky, without a roof.
Folding doors lead to it at each end, in the porticoes in front and in
the rear. There is no example of this sort in Rome, but in Athens there
is the octastyle in the precinct of the Olympian.




CHAPTER III

THE PROPORTIONS OF INTERCOLUMNIATIONS AND OF COLUMNS


1. There are five classes of temples, designated as follows: pycnostyle,
with the columns close together; systyle, with the intercolumniations a
little wider; diastyle, more open still; araeostyle, farther apart than
they ought to be; eustyle, with the intervals apportioned just right.

[Illustration: THE CLASSIFICATION OF TEMPLES ACCORDING TO
INTERCOLUMNIATION]

2. The pycnostyle is a temple in an intercolumniation of which the
thickness of a column and a half can be inserted: for example, the
temple of the Divine Caesar, that of Venus in Caesar's forum, and others
constructed like them. The systyle is a temple in which the thickness
of two columns can be placed in an intercolumniation, and in which the
plinths of the bases are equivalent to the distance between two plinths:
for example, the temple of Equestrian Fortune near the stone theatre,
and the others which are constructed on the same principles.

3. These two kinds have practical disadvantages. When the matrons mount
the steps for public prayer or thanksgiving, they cannot pass through
the intercolumniations with their arms about one another, but must form
single file; then again, the effect of the folding doors is thrust out
of sight by the crowding of the columns, and likewise the statues are
thrown into shadow; the narrow space interferes also with walks round
the temple.

4. The construction will be diastyle when we can insert the thickness of
three columns in an intercolumniation, as in the case of the temple of
Apollo and Diana. This arrangement involves the danger that the
architraves may break on account of the great width of the intervals.

5. In araeostyles we cannot employ stone or marble for the architraves,
but must have a series of wooden beams laid upon the columns. And
moreover, in appearance these temples are clumsy-roofed, low, broad, and
their pediments are adorned in the Tuscan fashion with statues of
terra-cotta or gilt bronze: for example, near the Circus Maximus, the
temple of Ceres and Pompey's temple of Hercules; also the temple on the
Capitol.

6. An account must now be given of the eustyle, which is the most
approved class, and is arranged on principles developed with a view to
convenience, beauty, and strength. The intervals should be made as wide
as the thickness of two columns and a quarter, but the middle
intercolumniations, one in front and the other in the rear, should be of
the thickness of three columns. Thus built, the effect of the design
will be beautiful, there will be no obstruction at the entrance, and the
walk round the cella will be dignified.

[Illustration: THE EUSTYLE TEMPLE OF VITRUVIUS COMPARED WITH THE TEMPLE
OF TEOS]

7. The rule of this arrangement may be set forth as follows. If a
tetrastyle is to be built, let the width of the front which shall have
already been determined for the temple, be divided into eleven parts and
a half, not including the substructures and the projections of the
bases; if it is to be of six columns, into eighteen parts. If an
octastyle is to be constructed, let the front be divided into
twenty-four parts and a half. Then, whether the temple is to be
tetrastyle, hexastyle, or octastyle, let one of these parts be taken,
and it will be the module. The thickness of the columns will be equal to
one module. Each of the intercolumniations, except those in the middle,
will measure two modules and a quarter. The middle intercolumniations in
front and in the rear will each measure three modules. The columns
themselves will be nine modules and a half in height. As a result of
this division, the intercolumniations and the heights of the columns
will be in due proportion.

8. We have no example of this in Rome, but at Teos in Asia Minor there
is one which is hexastyle, dedicated to Father Bacchus.

These rules for symmetry were established by Hermogenes, who was also
the first to devise the principle of the pseudodipteral octastyle. He
did so by dispensing with the inner rows of thirty-eight columns which
belonged to the symmetry of the dipteral temple, and in this way he made
a saving in expense and labour. He thus provided a much wider space for
the walk round the cella between it and the columns, and without
detracting at all from the general effect, or making one feel the loss
of what had been really superfluous, he preserved the dignity of the
whole work by his new treatment of it.

9. For the idea of the pteroma and the arrangement of the columns round
a temple were devised in order that the intercolumniations might give
the imposing effect of high relief; and also, in case a multitude of
people should be caught in a heavy shower and detained, that they might
have in the temple and round the cella a wide free space in which to
wait. These ideas are developed, as I have described, in the
pseudodipteral arrangement of a temple. It appears, therefore, that
Hermogenes produced results which exhibit much acute ingenuity, and
that he left sources from which those who came after him could derive
instructive principles.

[Illustration: VITRUVIUS' RULES FOR THE DIAMETER AND HEIGHT OF COLUMNS
IN THE DIFFERENT CLASSES OF TEMPLE COMPARED WITH ACTUAL EXAMPLES]

10. In araeostyle temples, the columns should be constructed so that
their thickness is one eighth part of their height. In the diastyle, the
height of a column should be measured off into eight and a half parts,
and the thickness of the column fixed at one of these parts. In the
systyle, let the height be divided into nine and a half parts, and one
of these given to the thickness of the column. In the pycnostyle, the
height should be divided into ten parts, and one of these used for the
thickness of the column. In the eustyle temple, let the height of a
column be divided, as in the systyle, into nine and a half parts, and
let one part be taken for the thickness at the bottom of the shaft. With
these dimensions we shall be taking into account the proportions of the
intercolumniations.

11. For the thickness of the shafts must be enlarged in proportion to
the increase of the distance between the columns. In the araeostyle, for
instance, if only a ninth or tenth part is given to the thickness, the
column will look thin and mean, because the width of the
intercolumniations is such that the air seems to eat away and diminish
the thickness of such shafts. On the other hand, in pycnostyles, if an
eighth part is given to the thickness, it will make the shaft look
swollen and ungraceful, because the intercolumniations are so close to
each other and so narrow. We must therefore follow the rules of symmetry
required by each kind of building. Then, too, the columns at the corners
should be made thicker than the others by a fiftieth of their own
diameter, because they are sharply outlined by the unobstructed air
round them, and seem to the beholder more slender than they are. Hence,
we must counteract the ocular deception by an adjustment of proportions.

[Illustration: THE DIMINUTION OF COLUMNS IN RELATION TO THEIR DIMENSIONS
OF HEIGHT]

12. Moreover, the diminution in the top of a column at the necking seems
to be regulated on the following principles: if a column is fifteen feet
or under, let the thickness at the bottom be divided into six parts,
and let five of those parts form the thickness at the top. If it is from
fifteen feet to twenty feet, let the bottom of the shaft be divided into
six and a half parts, and let five and a half of those parts be the
upper thickness of the column. In a column of from twenty feet to thirty
feet, let the bottom of the shaft be divided into seven parts, and let
the diminished top measure six of these. A column of from thirty to
forty feet should be divided at the bottom into seven and a half parts,
and, on the principle of diminution, have six and a half of these at the
top. Columns of from forty feet to fifty should be divided into eight
parts, and diminish to seven of these at the top of the shaft under the
capital. In the case of higher columns, let the diminution be determined
proportionally, on the same principles.

13. These proportionate enlargements are made in the thickness of
columns on account of the different heights to which the eye has to
climb. For the eye is always in search of beauty, and if we do not
gratify its desire for pleasure by a proportionate enlargement in these
measures, and thus make compensation for ocular deception, a clumsy and
awkward appearance will be presented to the beholder. With regard to the
enlargement made at the middle of columns, which among the Greeks is
called [Greek: entasis], at the end of the book a figure and calculation
will be subjoined, showing how an agreeable and appropriate effect may
be produced by it.




CHAPTER IV

THE FOUNDATIONS AND SUBSTRUCTURES OF TEMPLES


1. The foundations of these works should be dug out of the solid ground,
if it can be found, and carried down into solid ground as far as the
magnitude of the work shall seem to require, and the whole substructure
should be as solid as it can possibly be laid. Above ground, let walls
be laid under the columns, thicker by one half than the columns are to
be, so that the lower may be stronger than the higher. Hence they are
called "stereobates"; for they take the load. And the projections of the
bases should not extend beyond this solid foundation. The wall-thickness
is similarly to be preserved above ground likewise, and the intervals
between these walls should be vaulted over, or filled with earth rammed
down hard, to keep the walls well apart.

[Illustration: THE ENTASIS OF COLUMNS

1. The entasis as given by Fra Giocondo in the edition of 1511.

2. The entasis from the temple of Mars Ultor in Rome compared with
Vignola's rule for entasis.]

2. If, however, solid ground cannot be found, but the place proves to be
nothing but a heap of loose earth to the very bottom, or a marsh, then
it must be dug up and cleared out and set with piles made of charred
alder or olive wood or oak, and these must be driven down by machinery,
very closely together like bridge-piles, and the intervals between them
filled in with charcoal, and finally the foundations are to be laid on
them in the most solid form of construction. The foundations having been
brought up to the level, the stylobates are next to be put in place.

3. The columns are then to be distributed over the stylobates in the
manner above described: close together in the pycnostyle; in the
systyle, diastyle, or eustyle, as they are described and arranged above.
In araeostyle temples one is free to arrange them as far apart as one
likes. Still, in peripterals, the columns should be so placed that there
are twice as many intercolumniations on the sides as there are in front;
for thus the length of the work will be twice its breadth. Those who
make the number of columns double, seem to be in error, because then the
length seems to be one intercolumniation longer than it ought to be.

4. The steps in front must be arranged so that there shall always be an
odd number of them; for thus the right foot, with which one mounts the
first step, will also be the first to reach the level of the temple
itself. The rise of such steps should, I think, be limited to not more
than ten nor less than nine inches; for then the ascent will not be
difficult. The treads of the steps ought to be made not less than a foot
and a half, and not more than two feet deep. If there are to be steps
running all round the temple, they should be built of the same size.

5. But if a podium is to be built on three sides round the temple, it
should be so constructed that its plinths, bases, dies, coronae, and
cymatiumare appropriate to the actual stylobate which is to be under the
bases of the columns.

[Illustration: FRA GIOCONDO'S IDEA OF THE "SCAMILLI IMPARES"

(From his edition of Vitruvius, Venice, 1511)]

The level of the stylobate must be increased along the middle by the
scamilli impares; for if it is laid perfectly level, it will look to the
eye as though it were hollowed a little. At the end of the book a figure
will be found, with a description showing how the scamilli may be made
to suit this purpose.




CHAPTER V

PROPORTIONS OF THE BASE, CAPITALS, AND ENTABLATURE IN THE IONIC ORDER


1. This finished, let the bases of the columns be set in place, and
constructed in such proportions that their height, including the plinth,
may be half the thickness of a column, and their projection (called in
Greek [Greek: ekphora]) the same.[1] Thus in both length and breadth it
will be one and one half thicknesses of a column.

[Note 1: Reading _aeque tantam_ as in new _Rose._ Codd. _sextantem;_
Schn. _quadrantem._]

2. If the base is to be in the Attic style, let its height be so divided
that the upper part shall be one third part of the thickness of the
column, and the rest left for the plinth. Then, excluding the plinth,
let the rest be divided into four parts, and of these let one fourth
constitute the upper torus, and let the other three be divided equally,
one part composing the lower torus, and the other, with its fillets, the
scotia, which the Greeks call [Greek: trochilos].

3. But if Ionic bases are to be built, their proportions shall be so
determined that the base may be each way equal in breadth to the
thickness of a column plus three eighths of the thickness; its height
that of the Attic base, and so too its plinth; excluding the plinth, let
the rest, which will be a third part of the thickness of a column, be
divided into seven parts. Three of these parts constitute the torus at
the top, and the other four are to be divided equally, one part
constituting the upper trochilus with its astragals and overhang, the
other left for the lower trochilus. But the lower will seem to be
larger, because it will project to the edge of the plinth. The astragals
must be one eighth of the trochilus. The projection of the base will be
three sixteenths of the thickness of a column.

[Illustration: THE IONIC ORDER ACCORDING TO VITRUVIUS COMPARED WITH THE
ORDER OF THE MAUSOLEUM AT HALICARNASSUS

The difference between the Roman and the Greek relation of the
baluster-side of the capital to the echinus is to be noted.]

4. The bases being thus finished and put in place, the columns are to be
put in place: the middle columns of the front and rear porticoes
perpendicular to their own centre; the corner columns, and those which
are to extend in a line from them along the sides of the temple to the
right and left, are to be set so that their inner sides, which face
toward the cella wall, are perpendicular, but their outer sides in the
manner which I have described in speaking of their diminution. Thus, in
the design of the temple the lines will be adjusted with due regard to
the diminution.

5. The shafts of the columns having been erected, the rule for the
capitals will be as follows. If they are to be cushion-shaped, they
should be so proportioned that the abacus is in length and breadth
equivalent to the thickness of the shaft at its bottom plus one
eighteenth thereof, and the height of the capital, including the
volutes, one half of that amount. The faces of the volutes must recede
from the edge of the abacus inwards by one and a half eighteenths of
that same amount. Then, the height of the capital is to be divided into
nine and a half parts, and down along the abacus on the four sides of
the volutes, down along the fillet at the edge of the abacus, lines
called "catheti" are to be let fall. Then, of the nine and a half parts
let one and a half be reserved for the height of the abacus, and let the
other eight be used for the volutes.

6. Then let another line be drawn, beginning at a point situated at a
distance of one and a half parts toward the inside from the line
previously let fall down along the edge of the abacus. Next, let these
lines be divided in such a way as to leave four and a half parts under
the abacus; then, at the point which forms the division between the four
and a half parts and the remaining three and a half, fix the centre of
the eye, and from that centre describe a circle with a diameter equal to
one of the eight parts. This will be the size of the eye, and in it draw
a diameter on the line of the "cathetus." Then, in describing the
quadrants, let the size of each be successively less, by half the
diameter of the eye, than that which begins under the abacus, and
proceed from the eye until that same quadrant under the abacus is
reached.

7. The height of the capital is to be such that, of the nine and a half
parts, three parts are below the level of the astragal at the top of the
shaft, and the rest, omitting the abacus and the channel, belongs to
its echinus. The projection of the echinus beyond the fillet of the
abacus should be equal to the size of the eye. The projection of the
bands of the cushions should be thus obtained: place one leg of a pair
of compasses in the centre of the capital and open out the other to the
edge of the echinus; bring this leg round and it will touch the outer
edge of the bands. The axes of the volutes should not be thicker than
the size of the eye, and the volutes themselves should be channelled out
to a depth which is one twelfth of their height. These will be the
symmetrical proportions for capitals of columns twenty-five feet high
and less. For higher columns the other proportions will be the same, but
the length and breadth of the abacus will be the thickness of the lower
diameter of a column plus one ninth part thereof; thus, just as the
higher the column the less the diminution, so the projection of its
capital is proportionately increased and its breadth[2] is
correspondingly enlarged.

[Note 2: Codd. _altitudo_.]

8. With regard to the method of describing volutes, at the end of the
book a figure will be subjoined and a calculation showing how they may
be described so that their spirals may be true to the compass.

The capitals having been finished and set up in due proportion to the
columns (not exactly level on the columns, however, but with the same
measured adjustment, so that in the upper members there may be an
increase corresponding to that which was made in the stylobates), the
rule for the architraves is to be as follows. If the columns are at
least twelve feet and not more than fifteen feet high, let the height of
the architrave be equal to half the thickness of a column at the bottom.
If they are from fifteen feet to twenty, let the height of a column be
measured off into thirteen parts, and let one of these be the height of
the architrave. If they are from twenty to twenty-five feet, let this
height be divided into twelve and one half parts, and let one of them
form the height of the architrave. If they are from twenty-five feet to
thirty, let it be divided into twelve parts, and let one of them form
the height. If they are higher, the heights of the architraves are to be
worked out proportionately in the same manner from the height of the
columns.

9. For the higher that the eye has to climb, the less easily can it make
its way through the thicker and thicker mass of air. So it fails when
the height is great, its strength is sucked out of it, and it conveys to
the mind only a confused estimate of the dimensions. Hence there must
always be a corresponding increase in the symmetrical proportions of the
members, so that whether the buildings are on unusually lofty sites or
are themselves somewhat colossal, the size of the parts may seem in due
proportion. The depth of the architrave on its under side just above the
capital, is to be equivalent to the thickness of the top of the column
just under the capital, and on its uppermost side equivalent to the foot
of the shaft.

10. The cymatium of the architrave should be one seventh of the height
of the whole architrave, and its projection the same. Omitting the
cymatium, the rest of the architrave is to be divided into twelve parts,
and three of these will form the lowest fascia, four, the next, and
five, the highest fascia. The frieze, above the architrave, is one
fourth less high than the architrave, but if there are to be reliefs
upon it, it is one fourth higher than the architrave, so that the
sculptures may be more imposing. Its cymatium is one seventh of the
whole height of the frieze, and the projection of the cymatium is the
same as its height.

11. Over the frieze comes the line of dentils, made of the same height
as the middle fascia of the architrave and with a projection equal to
their height. The intersection (or in Greek [Greek: metopê]) is
apportioned so that the face of each dentil is half as wide as its
height and the cavity of each intersection two thirds of this face in
width. The cymatium here is one sixth of the whole height of this part.
The corona with its cymatium, but not including the sima, has the height
of the middle fascia of the architrave, and the total projection of the
corona and dentils should be equal to the height from the frieze to the
cymatium at the top of the corona.

[Illustration: A COMPARISON OF THE IONIC ORDER ACCORDING TO VITRUVIUS
WITH ACTUAL EXAMPLES AND WITH VIGNOLA'S ORDER

A: Showing the orders reduced to equal lower diameters. B: Showing the
orders to a uniform scale.]

And as a general rule, all projecting parts have greater beauty when
their projection is equal to their height.

12. The height of the tympanum, which is in the pediment, is to be
obtained thus: let the front of the corona, from the two ends of its
cymatium, be measured off into nine parts, and let one of these parts be
set up in the middle at the peak of the tympanum, taking care that it is
perpendicular to the entablature and the neckings of the columns. The
coronae over the tympanum are to be made of equal size with the coronae
under it, not including the simae. Above the coronae are the simae (in
Greek [Greek: epaietides]), which should be made one eighth higher than
the height of the coronae. The acroteria at the corners have the height
of the centre of the tympanum, and those in the middle are one eighth
part higher than those at the corners.

13. All the members which are to be above the capitals of the columns,
that is, architraves, friezes, coronae, tympana, gables, and acroteria,
should be inclined to the front a twelfth part of their own height, for
the reason that when we stand in front of them, if two lines are drawn
from the eye, one reaching to the bottom of the building and the other
to the top, that which reaches to the top will be the longer. Hence, as
the line of sight to the upper part is the longer, it makes that part
look as if it were leaning back. But when the members are inclined to
the front, as described above, they will seem to the beholder to be
plumb and perpendicular.

14. Each column should have twenty-four flutes, channelled out in such a
way that if a carpenter's square be placed in the hollow of a flute and
turned, the arm will touch the corners of the fillets on the right and
left, and the tip of the square may keep touching some point in the
concave surface as it moves through it. The breadth of the flutes is to
be equivalent to the enlargement in the middle of a column, which will
be found in the figure.

15. In the simae which are over the coronae on the sides of the temple,
lion's heads are to be carved and arranged at intervals thus: First one
head is marked out directly over the axis of each column, and then the
others are arranged at equal distances apart, and so that there shall be
one at the middle of every roof-tiling. Those that are over the columns
should have holes bored through them to the gutter which receives the
rainwater from the tiles, but those between them should be solid. Thus
the mass of water that falls by way of the tiles into the gutter will
not be thrown down along the intercolumniations nor drench people who
are passing through them, while the lion's heads that are over the
columns will appear to be vomiting as they discharge streams of water
from their mouths.

In this book I have written as clearly as I could on the arrangements of
Ionic temples. In the next I shall explain the proportions of Doric and
Corinthian temples.




BOOK IV




INTRODUCTION


1. I have observed, Emperor, that many in their treatises and volumes of
commentaries on architecture have not presented the subject with
well-ordered completeness, but have merely made a beginning and left, as
it were, only desultory fragments. I have therefore thought that it
would be a worthy and very useful thing to reduce the whole of this
great art to a complete and orderly form of presentation, and then in
different books to lay down and explain the required characteristics of
different departments. Hence, Caesar, in my first book I have set forth
to you the function of the architect and the things in which he ought to
be trained. In the second I have discussed the supplies of material of
which buildings are constructed. In the third, which deals with the
arrangements of temples and their variety of form, I showed the nature
and number of their classes, with the adjustments proper to each form
according to the usage of the Ionic order, one of the three which
exhibit the greatest delicacy of proportion in their symmetrical
measurements. In the present book I shall speak of the established rules
for the Doric and Corinthian orders, and shall explain their differences
and peculiarities.




CHAPTER I

THE ORIGINS OF THE THREE ORDERS, AND THE PROPORTIONS OF THE CORINTHIAN
CAPITAL


1. Corinthian columns are, excepting in their capitals, of the same
proportions in all respects as Ionic; but the height of their capitals
gives them proportionately a taller and more slender effect. This is
because the height of the Ionic capital is only one third of the
thickness of the column, while that of the Corinthian is the entire
thickness of the shaft. Hence, as two thirds are added in Corinthian
capitals, their tallness gives a more slender appearance to the columns
themselves.

2. The other members which are placed above the columns, are, for
Corinthian columns, composed either of the Doric proportions or
according to the Ionic usages; for the Corinthian order never had any
scheme peculiar to itself for its cornices or other ornaments, but may
have mutules in the coronae and guttae on the architraves according to
the triglyph system of the Doric style, or, according to Ionic
practices, it may be arranged with a frieze adorned with sculptures and
accompanied with dentils and coronae.

3. Thus a third architectural order, distinguished by its capital, was
produced out of the two other orders. To the forms of their columns are
due the names of the three orders, Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian, of
which the Doric was the first to arise, and in early times. For Dorus,
the son of Hellen and the nymph Phthia, was king of Achaea and all the
Peloponnesus, and he built a fane, which chanced to be of this order, in
the precinct of Juno at Argolis, a very ancient city, and subsequently
others of the same order in the other cities of Achaea, although the
rules of symmetry were not yet in existence.

4. Later, the Athenians, in obedience to oracles of the Delphic Apollo,
and with the general agreement of all Hellas, despatched thirteen
colonies at one time to Asia Minor, appointing leaders for each colony
and giving the command-in-chief to Ion, son of Xuthus and Creusa (whom
further Apollo at Delphi in the oracles had acknowledged as his son).
Ion conducted those colonies to Asia Minor, took possession of the land
of Caria, and there founded the grand cities of Ephesus, Miletus, Myus
(long ago engulfed by the water, and its sacred rites and suffrage
handed over by the Ionians to the Milesians), Priene, Samos, Teos,
Colophon, Chius, Erythrae, Phocaea, Clazomenae, Lebedos, and Melite.
This Melite, on account of the arrogance of its citizens, was destroyed
by the other cities in a war declared by general agreement, and in its
place, through the kindness of King Attalus and Arsinoe, the city of the
Smyrnaeans was admitted among the Ionians.

5. Now these cities, after driving out the Carians and Lelegans, called
that part of the world Ionia from their leader Ion, and there they set
off precincts for the immortal gods and began to build fanes: first of
all, a temple to Panionion Apollo such as they had seen in Achaea,
calling it Doric because they had first seen that kind of temple built
in the states of the Dorians.

6. Wishing to set up columns in that temple, but not having rules for
their symmetry, and being in search of some way by which they could
render them fit to bear a load and also of a satisfactory beauty of
appearance, they measured the imprint of a man's foot and compared this
with his height. On finding that, in a man, the foot was one sixth of
the height, they applied the same principle to the column, and reared
the shaft, including the capital, to a height six times its thickness at
its base. Thus the Doric column, as used in buildings, began to exhibit
the proportions, strength, and beauty of the body of a man.

7. Just so afterwards, when they desired to construct a temple to Diana
in a new style of beauty, they translated these footprints into terms
characteristic of the slenderness of women, and thus first made a column
the thickness of which was only one eighth of its height, so that it
might have a taller look. At the foot they substituted the base in
place of a shoe; in the capital they placed the volutes, hanging down at
the right and left like curly ringlets, and ornamented its front with
cymatia and with festoons of fruit arranged in place of hair, while they
brought the flutes down the whole shaft, falling like the folds in the
robes worn by matrons. Thus in the invention of the two different kinds
of columns, they borrowed manly beauty, naked and unadorned, for the
one, and for the other the delicacy, adornment, and proportions
characteristic of women.

8. It is true that posterity, having made progress in refinement and
delicacy of feeling, and finding pleasure in more slender proportions,
has established seven diameters of the thickness as the height of the
Doric column, and nine as that of the Ionic. The Ionians, however,
originated the order which is therefore named Ionic.

The third order, called Corinthian, is an imitation of the slenderness
of a maiden; for the outlines and limbs of maidens, being more slender
on account of their tender years, admit of prettier effects in the way
of adornment.

9. It is related that the original discovery of this form of capital was
as follows. A free-born maiden of Corinth, just of marriageable age, was
attacked by an illness and passed away. After her burial, her nurse,
collecting a few little things which used to give the girl pleasure
while she was alive, put them in a basket, carried it to the tomb, and
laid it on top thereof, covering it with a roof-tile so that the things
might last longer in the open air. This basket happened to be placed
just above the root of an acanthus. The acanthus root, pressed down
meanwhile though it was by the weight, when springtime came round put
forth leaves and stalks in the middle, and the stalks, growing up along
the sides of the basket, and pressed out by the corners of the tile
through the compulsion of its weight, were forced to bend into volutes
at the outer edges.

[Illustration: Photo. Sommer

THE BASILICA AT POMPEII]

[Illustration: THE CORINTHIAN CAPITAL OF VITRUVIUS COMPARED WITH THE
MONUMENTS]

10. Just then Callimachus, whom the Athenians called [Greek:
katatêxitechnos] for the refinement and delicacy of his artistic
work, passed by this tomb and observed the basket with the tender
young leaves growing round it. Delighted with the novel style and form,
he built some columns after that pattern for the Corinthians, determined
their symmetrical proportions, and established from that time forth the
rules to be followed in finished works of the Corinthian order.

11. The proportions of this capital should be fixed as follows. Let the
height of the capital, including its abacus, be equivalent to the
thickness of the base of a column. Let the breadth of the abacus be
proportioned so that diagonals drawn from one corner of it to the other
shall be twice the height of the capitals, which will give the proper
breadth to each face of the abacus. The faces should curve inwards, by
one ninth of the breadth of the face, from the outside edge of the
corners of the abacus. At the bottom the capital should be of the
thickness of the top of the column omitting the congé and astragal. The
height of the abacus is one seventh of the height of the capital.

12. Omitting the height of the abacus, let the rest be divided into
three parts, of which one should be given to the lowest leaf. Let the
second leaf occupy the middle part of the height. Of the same height
should be the stalks, out of which grow leaves projected so as to
support the volutes which proceed from the stalks, and run out to the
utmost corners of the abacus; the smaller spirals between them should be
carved just under the flower which is on the abacus. The flowers on the
four sides are to be made as large as the height of the abacus. On these
principles of proportion, Corinthian capitals will be finished as they
ought to be.

There are other kinds of capitals set upon these same columns and called
by various names, but they have no peculiarities of proportion of which
we can speak, nor can we recognize from them another order of columns.
Even their very names are, as we can see, derived with some changes from
the Corinthian, the cushion-shaped, and the Doric, whose symmetrical
proportions have been thus transferred to delicate sculptures of novel
form.




CHAPTER II

THE ORNAMENTS OF THE ORDERS


1. Since the origin and invention of the orders of columns have been
described above, I think it not out of place to speak in the same way
about their ornaments, showing how these arose and from what original
elements they were devised. The upper parts of all buildings contain
timber work to which various terms are applied. And not only in its
terminology but actually in its uses it exhibits variety. The main beams
are those which are laid upon columns, pilasters, and antae; tie-beams
and rafters are found in the framing. Under the roof, if the span is
pretty large, are the crossbeams and struts; if it is of moderate
extent, only the ridgepole, with the principal rafters extending to the
outer edge of the eaves. Over the principal rafters are the purlines,
and then above these and under the roof-tiles come the common rafters,
extending so far that the walls are covered by their projection.

2. Thus each and every detail has a place, origin, and order of its own.
In accordance with these details, and starting from carpenter's work,
artists in building temples of stone and marble imitated those
arrangements in their sculptures, believing that they must follow those
inventions. So it was that some ancient carpenters, engaged in building
somewhere or other, after laying the tie-beams so that they projected
from the inside to the outside of the walls, closed up the space between
the beams, and above them ornamented the coronae and gables with
carpentry work of beauty greater than usual; then they cut off the
projecting ends of the beams, bringing them into line and flush with the
face of the walls; next, as this had an ugly look to them, they fastened
boards, shaped as triglyphs are now made, on the ends of the beams,
where they had been cut off in front, and painted them with blue wax so
that the cutting off of the ends of the beams, being concealed, would
not offend the eye. Hence it was in imitation of the arrangement of the
tie-beams that men began to employ, in Doric buildings, the device of
triglyphs and the metopes between the beams.

3. Later, others in other buildings allowed the projecting principal
rafters to run out till they were flush with the triglyphs, and then
formed their projections into simae. From that practice, like the
triglyphs from the arrangement of the tie-beams, the system of mutules
under the coronae was devised from the projections of the principal
rafters. Hence generally, in buildings of stone and marble, the mutules
are carved with a downward slant, in imitation of the principal rafters.
For these necessarily have a slanting and projecting position to let the
water drip down. The scheme of triglyphs and mutules in Doric buildings
was, therefore, the imitative device that I have described.

4. It cannot be that the triglyphs represent windows, as some have
erroneously said, since the triglyphs are placed at the corners and over
the middle of columns--places where, from the nature of the case, there
can be no windows at all. For buildings are wholly disconnected at the
corners if openings for windows are left at those points. Again, if we
are to suppose that there were open windows where the triglyphs now
stand, it will follow, on the same principle, that the dentils of the
Ionic order have likewise taken the places of windows. For the term
"metope" is used of the intervals between dentils as well as of those
between triglyphs. The Greeks call the seats of tie-beams and rafters
[Greek: opai], while our people call these cavities columbaria
(dovecotes). Hence, the space between the tie-beams, being the space
between two "opae," was named by them [Greek: metopê].

5. The system of triglyphs and mutules was invented for the Doric order,
and similarly the scheme of dentils belongs to the Ionic, in which there
are proper grounds for its use in buildings. Just as mutules represent
the projection of the principal rafters, so dentils in the Ionic are an
imitation of the projections of the common rafters. And so in Greek
works nobody ever put dentils under mutules, as it is impossible that
common rafters should be underneath principal rafters. Therefore, if
that which in the original must be placed above the principal rafters,
is put in the copy below them, the result will be a work constructed on
false principles. Neither did the ancients approve of or employ mutules
or dentils in pediments, but only plain coronae, for the reason that
neither principal nor common rafters tail into the fronts of pediments,
nor can they overhang them, but they are laid with a slope towards the
eaves. Hence the ancients held that what could not happen in the
original would have no valid reason for existence in the copy.

6. For in all their works they proceeded on definite principles of
fitness and in ways derived from the truth of Nature. Thus they reached
perfection, approving only those things which, if challenged, can be
explained on grounds of the truth. Hence, from the sources which have
been described they established and left us the rules of symmetry and
proportion for each order. Following in their steps, I have spoken above
on the Ionic and Corinthian styles, and I shall now briefly explain the
theory of the Doric and its general appearance.




CHAPTER III

PROPORTIONS OF DORIC TEMPLES


1. Some of the ancient architects said that the Doric order ought not to
be used for temples, because faults and incongruities were caused by the
laws of its symmetry. Arcesius and Pytheos said so, as well as
Hermogenes. He, for instance, after getting together a supply of marble
for the construction of a Doric temple, changed his mind and built an
Ionic temple to Father Bacchus with the same materials. This is not
because it is unlovely in appearance or origin or dignity of form, but
because the arrangement of the triglyphs and metopes (lacunaria) is an
embarrassment and inconvenience to the work.

2. For the triglyphs ought to be placed so as to correspond to the
centres of the columns, and the metopes between the triglyphs ought to
be as broad as they are high. But in violation of this rule, at the
corner columns triglyphs are placed at the outside edges and not
corresponding to the centre of the columns. Hence the metopes next to
the corner columns do not come out perfectly square, but are too broad
by half the width of a triglyph. Those who would make the metopes all
alike, make the outermost intercolumniations narrower by half the width
of a triglyph. But the result is faulty, whether it is attained by
broader metopes or narrower intercolumniations. For this reason, the
ancients appear to have avoided the scheme of the Doric order in their
temples.

3. However, since our plan calls for it, we set it forth as we have
received it from our teachers, so that if anybody cares to set to work
with attention to these laws, he may find the proportions stated by
which he can construct correct and faultless examples of temples in the
Doric fashion.

Let the front of a Doric temple, at the place where the columns are put
up, be divided, if it is to be tetrastyle, into twenty-seven parts; if
hexastyle, into forty-two. One of these parts will be the module (in
Greek [Greek: embatês]); and this module once fixed, all the parts of
the work are adjusted by means of calculations based upon it.

4. The thickness of the columns will be two modules, and their height,
including the capitals, fourteen. The height of a capital will be one
module, and its breadth two and one sixth modules. Let the height of the
capital be divided into three parts, of which one will form the abacus
with its cymatium, the second the echinus with its annulets, and the
third the necking. The diminution of the column should be the same as
described for Ionic columns in the third book. The height of the
architrave, including taenia and guttae, is one module, and of the
taenia, one seventh of a module. The guttae, extending as wide as the
triglyphs and beneath the taenia, should hang down for one sixth of a
module, including their regula. The depth of the architrave on its under
side should answer to the necking at the top of the column. Above the
architrave, the triglyphs and metopes are to be placed: the triglyphs
one and one half modules high, and one module wide in front. They are to
be arranged so that one is placed to correspond to the centre of each
corner and intermediate column, and two over each intercolumniation
except the middle intercolumniations of the front and rear porticoes,
which have three each. The intervals in the middle being thus extended,
a free passage will be afforded to those who would approach the statues
of the gods.

[Illustration: VITRUVIUS' DORIC ORDER COMPARED WITH THE TEMPLE AT CORI
AND THE DORIC ORDER OF THE THEATRE OF MARCELLUS]

5. The width of the triglyph should be divided into six parts, and five
of these marked off in the middle by means of the rule, and two half
parts at the right and left. Let one part, that in the centre, form a
"femur" (in Greek [Greek: mêros]). On each side of it are the channels,
to be cut in to fit the tip of a carpenter's square, and in succession
the other femora, one at the right and the other at the left of a
channel. To the outsides are relegated the semichannels. The triglyphs
having been thus arranged, let the metopes between the triglyphs be as
high as they are wide, while at the outer corners there should be
semimetopes inserted, with the width of half a module.

In these ways all defects will be corrected, whether in metopes or
intercolumniations or lacunaria, as all the arrangements have been made
with uniformity.

6. The capitals of each triglyph are to measure one sixth of a module.
Over the capitals of the triglyphs the corona is to be placed, with a
projection of two thirds of a module, and having a Doric cymatium at the
bottom and another at the top. So the corona with its cymatia is half a
module in height. Set off on the under side of the corona, vertically
over the triglyphs and over the middle of the metopes, are the viae in
straight lines and the guttae arranged in rows, six guttae broad and
three deep. The spaces left (due to the fact that the metopes are
broader than the triglyphs) may be left unornamented or may have
thunderbolts carved on them. Just at the edge of the corona a line
should be cut in, called the scotia. All the other parts, such as
tympana and the simae of the corona, are to be constructed as described
above in the case of the Ionic order.

7. Such will be the scheme established for diastyle buildings. But if
the building is to be systyle and monotriglyphic, let the front of the
temple, if tetrastyle, be divided into nineteen and a half parts; if
hexastyle, into twenty-nine and a half parts. One of these parts will
form the module in accordance with which the adjustments are to be made
as above described.

8. Thus, over each portion of the architrave two metopes and two
triglyphs[3] will be placed; and, in addition, at the corners half a
triglyph and besides a space large enough for a half triglyph. At the
centre, vertically under the gable, there should be room for three
triglyphs and three metopes, in order that the centre intercolumniation,
by its greater width, may give ample room for people to enter the
temple, and may lend an imposing effect to the view of the statues of
the gods.

[Note 3: That is: two metopes with a triglyph between them, and half
of the triglyph on either side.]

9. The columns should be fluted with twenty flutes. If these are to be
left plane, only the twenty angles need be marked off. But if they are
to be channelled out, the contour of the channelling may be determined
thus: draw a square with sides equal in length to the breadth of the
fluting, and centre a pair of compasses in the middle of this square.
Then describe a circle with a circumference touching the angles of the
square, and let the channellings have the contour of the segment formed
by the circumference and the side of the square. The fluting of the
Doric column will thus be finished in the style appropriate to it.

10. With regard to the enlargement to be made in the column at its
middle, let the description given for Ionic columns in the third book be
applied here also in the case of Doric.

Since the external appearance of the Corinthian, Doric, and Ionic
proportions has now been described, it is necessary next to explain the
arrangements of the cella and the pronaos.




CHAPTER IV

THE CELLA AND PRONAOS


1. The length of a temple is adjusted so that its width may be half its
length, and the actual cella one fourth greater in length than in width,
including the wall in which the folding doors are placed. Let the
remaining three parts, constituting the pronaos, extend to the antae
terminating the walls, which antae ought to be of the same thickness as
the columns. If the temple is to be more than twenty feet in width, let
two columns be placed between the two antae, to separate the pteroma
from the pronaos. The three intercolumniations between the antae and the
columns should be closed by low walls made of marble or of joiner's
work, with doors in them to afford passages into the pronaos.

2. If the width is to be more than forty feet, let columns be placed
inside and opposite to the columns between the antae. They should have
the same height as the columns in front of them, but their thickness
should be proportionately reduced: thus, if the columns in front are in
thickness one eighth of their height, these should be one tenth; if the
former are one ninth or one tenth, these should be reduced in the same
proportion. For their reduction will not be discernible, as the air has
not free play about them. Still, in case they look too slender, when the
outer columns have twenty or twenty-four flutes, these may have
twenty-eight or thirty-two. Thus the additional number of flutes will
make up proportionately for the loss in the body of the shaft,
preventing it from being seen, and so in a different way the columns
will be made to look equally thick.

[Illustration: VITRUVIUS' TEMPLE PLAN COMPARED WITH ACTUAL EXAMPLES]

3. The reason for this result is that the eye, touching thus upon a
greater number of points, set closer together, has a larger compass to
cover with its range of vision. For if two columns, equally thick but
one unfluted and the other fluted, are measured by drawing lines round
them, one line touching the body of the columns in the hollows of the
channels and on the edges of the flutes, these surrounding lines, even
though the columns are equally thick, will not be equal to each other,
because it takes a line of greater length to compass the channels and
the flutes. This being granted, it is not improper, in narrow quarters
or where the space is enclosed, to use in a building columns of somewhat
slender proportions, since we can help out by a duly proportionate
number of flutings.

4. The walls of the cella itself should be thick in proportion to its
size, provided that their antae are kept of the same thickness as the
columns. If the walls are to be of masonry, let the rubble used be as
small as possible; but if they are to be of dimension stone or marble,
the material ought to be of a very moderate and uniform size; for the
laying of the stones so as to break joints will make the whole work
stronger, and their bevelled edges, standing up about the builds and
beds, will give it an agreeable look, somewhat like that of a picture.




CHAPTER V

HOW THE TEMPLE SHOULD FACE


1. The quarter toward which temples of the immortal gods ought to face
is to be determined on the principle that, if there is no reason to
hinder and the choice is free, the temple and the statue placed in the
cella should face the western quarter of the sky. This will enable those
who approach the altar with offerings or sacrifices to face the
direction of the sunrise in facing the statue in the temple, and thus
those who are undertaking vows look toward the quarter from which the
sun comes forth, and likewise the statues themselves appear to be coming
forth out of the east to look upon them as they pray and sacrifice.

2. But if the nature of the site is such as to forbid this, then the
principle of determining the quarter should be changed, so that the
widest possible view of the city may be had from the sanctuaries of the
gods. Furthermore, temples that are to be built beside rivers, as in
Egypt on both sides of the Nile, ought, as it seems, to face the river
banks. Similarly, houses of the gods on the sides of public roads should
be arranged so that the passers-by can have a view of them and pay their
devotions face to face.




CHAPTER VI

THE DOORWAYS OF TEMPLES


1. For the doorways of temples and their casings the rules are as
follows, first determining of what style they are to be. The styles of
portals are Doric, Ionic, and Attic.

In the Doric, the symmetrical proportions are distinguished by the
following rules. Let the top of the corona, which is laid above the
casing, be on a level with the tops of the capitals of the columns in
the pronaos. The aperture of the doorway should be determined by
dividing the height of the temple, from floor to coffered ceiling, into
three and one half parts and letting two and one half[4] thereof
constitute the height of the aperture of the folding doors. Let this in
turn be divided into twelve parts, and let five and a half of these form
the width of the bottom of the aperture. At the top, this width should
be diminished, if the aperture is sixteen feet in height, by one third
the width of the door-jamb; if the aperture is from sixteen to
twenty-five feet, let the upper part of it be diminished by one quarter
of the jamb; if from twenty-five to thirty feet, let the top be
diminished by one eighth of the jamb. Other and higher apertures should,
as it seems, have their sides perpendicular.

[Note 4: Codd. _duae._]

2. Further, the jambs themselves should be diminished at the top by one
fourteenth of their width. The height of the lintel should be equivalent
to the width of the jambs at the top. Its cymatium ought to be one sixth
of the jamb, with a projection equivalent to its height. The style of
carving of the cymatium with its astragal should be the Lesbian. Above
the cymatium of the lintel, place the frieze of the doorway, of the
same height as the lintel, and having a Doric cymatium and Lesbian
astragal carved upon it. Let the corona and its cymatium at the top of
all be carved without ornamentation, and have a projection equal to its
height. To the right and left of the lintel, which rests upon the jambs,
there are to be projections fashioned like projecting bases and jointed
to a nicety with the cymatium itself.

3. If the doorways are to be of the Ionic style, the height of the
aperture should be reached in the same manner as in the Doric. Let its
width be determined by dividing the height into two and one half parts
and letting one of them form the width at the bottom. The diminutions
should be the same as for Doric. The width of the faces of the jambs
should be one fourteenth of the height of the aperture, and the cymatium
one sixth of the width. Let the rest, excluding the cymatium, be divided
into twelve parts. Let three of these compose the first fascia with its
astragal, four the second, and five the third, the fasciae with their
astragals running side by side all round.

4. The cornices of Ionic doorways should be constructed in the same
manner as those of Doric, in due proportions. The consoles, otherwise
called brackets, carved at the right and left, should hang down to the
level of the bottom of the lintel, exclusive of the leaf. Their width on
the face should be two thirds of the width of the jamb, but at the
bottom one fourth slenderer than above.

Doors should be constructed with the hinge-stiles one twelfth of the
width of the whole aperture. The panels between two stiles should each
occupy three of the twelve parts.

5. The rails will be apportioned thus: divide the height into five
parts, of which assign two to the upper portion and three to the lower;
above the centre place the middle rails; insert the others at the top
and at the bottom. Let the height of a rail be one third of the breadth
of a panel, and its cymatium one sixth of the rail. The width of the
meeting-stiles should be one half the rail, and the cover-joint two
thirds of the rail. The stiles toward the side of the jambs should be
one half the rail. If the doors have folds in them, the height will
remain as before, but the width should be double that of a single door;
if the door is to have four folds, its height should be increased.

[Illustration: VITRUVIUS' RULE FOR DOORWAYS COMPARED WITH TWO EXAMPLES]

6. Attic doorways are built with the same proportions as Doric. Besides,
there are fasciae running all round under the cymatia on the jambs, and
apportioned so as to be equal to three sevenths of a jamb, excluding the
cymatium. The doors are without lattice-work, are not double but have
folds in them, and open outward.

The laws which should govern the design of temples built in the Doric,
Ionic, and Corinthian styles, have now, so far as I could arrive at
them, been set forth according to what may be called the accepted
methods. I shall next speak of the arrangements in the Tuscan style,
showing how they should be treated.




CHAPTER VII

TUSCAN TEMPLES


1. The place where the temple is to be built having been divided on its
length into six parts, deduct one and let the rest be given to its
width. Then let the length be divided into two equal parts, of which let
the inner be reserved as space for the cellae, and the part next the
front left for the arrangement of the columns.

2. Next let the width be divided into ten parts. Of these, let three on
the right and three on the left be given to the smaller cellae, or to
the alae if there are to be alae, and the other four devoted to the
middle of the temple. Let the space in front of the cellae, in the
pronaos, be marked out for columns thus: the corner columns should be
placed opposite the antae on the line of the outside walls; the two
middle columns, set out on the line of the walls which are between the
antae and the middle of the temple; and through the middle, between the
antae and the front columns, a second row, arranged on the same lines.
Let the thickness of the columns at the bottom be one seventh of their
height, their height one third of the width of the temple, and the
diminution of a column at the top, one fourth of its thickness at the
bottom.

[Illustration: THE TUSCAN TEMPLE ACCORDING TO VITRUVIUS.]

3. The height of their bases should be one half of that thickness. The
plinth of their bases should be circular, and in height one half the
height of the bases, the torus above it and congé being of the same
height as the plinth. The height of the capital is one half the
thickness of a column. The abacus has a width equivalent to the
thickness of the bottom of a column. Let the height of the capital be
divided into three parts, and give one to the plinth (that is, the
abacus), the second to the echinus, and the third to the necking with
its congé.

4. Upon the columns lay the main beams, fastened together, to a height
commensurate with the requirements of the size of the building. These
beams fastened together should be laid so as to be equivalent in
thickness to the necking at the top of a column, and should be fastened
together by means of dowels and dove-tailed tenons in such a way that
there shall be a space two fingers broad between them at the fastening.
For if they touch one another, and so do not leave airholes and admit
draughts of air to blow between them, they get heated and soon begin to
rot.

5. Above the beams and walls let the mutules project to a distance equal
to one quarter of the height of a column; along the front of them nail
casings; above, build the tympanum of the pediment either in masonry or
in wood. The pediment with its ridgepole, principal rafters, and
purlines are to be built in such a way that the eaves shall be
equivalent to one third of the completed roof.




CHAPTER VIII

CIRCULAR TEMPLES AND OTHER VARIETIES


1. There are also circular temples, some of which are constructed in
monopteral form, surrounded by columns but without a cella, while
others are termed peripteral. Those that are without a cella have a
raised platform and a flight of steps leading to it, one third of the
diameter of the temple. The columns upon the stylobates are constructed
of a height equivalent to the diameter taken between the outer edges of
the stylobate walls, and of a thickness equivalent to one tenth of their
height including the capitals and bases. The architrave has the height
of one half of the thickness of a column. The frieze and the other parts
placed above it are such as I have described in the third[5] book, on
the subject of symmetrical proportions.

[Illustration: _Photo. Anderson_

THE CIRCULAR TEMPLE AT TIVOLI]

[Illustration: THE MAISON CARRÉE AT NÎMES, A PSEUDO-PERIPTERAL TEMPLE]

[Note 5: 1 Codd. _quarto._]

[Illustration: TEMPLE AT TIVOLI]

[Illustration: _From Durm_

PLAN OF THE TEMPLE OF VESTA AT ROME]

2. But if such a temple is to be constructed in peripteral form, let two
steps and then the stylobate be constructed below. Next, let the cella
wall be set up, recessed within the stylobate about one fifth of the
breadth thereof, and let a place for folding doors be left in the middle
to afford entrance. This cella, excluding its walls and the passage
round the outside, should have a diameter equivalent to the height of a
column above the stylobate. Let the columns round the cella be arranged
in the symmetrical proportions just given.

3. The proportions of the roof in the centre should be such that the
height of the rotunda, excluding the finial, is equivalent to one half
the diameter of the whole work. The finial, excluding its pyramidal
base, should have the dimensions of the capital of a column. All the
rest must be built in the symmetrical proportions described above.

[Illustration: _From Durm_

THE CIRCULAR TEMPLE ACCORDING TO VITRUVIUS]

4. There are also other kinds of temples, constructed in the same
symmetrical proportions and yet with a different kind of plan: for
example, the temple of Castor in the district of the Circus Flaminius,
that of Vejovis between the two groves, and still more ingeniously the
temple of Diana in her sacred grove, with columns added on the right and
left at the flanks of the pronaos. Temples of this kind, like that of
Castor in the Circus, were first built in Athens on the Acropolis, and
in Attica at Sunium to Pallas Minerva. The proportions of them are not
different, but the same as usual. For the length of their cellae is
twice the width, as in other temples; but all that we regularly find in
the fronts of others is in these transferred to the sides.

5. Some take the arrangement of columns belonging to the Tuscan order
and apply it to buildings in the Corinthian and Ionic styles, and where
there are projecting antae in the pronaos, set up two columns in a line
with each of the cella walls, thus making a combination of the
principles of Tuscan and Greek buildings.

6. Others actually remove the temple walls, transferring them to the
intercolumniations, and thus, by dispensing with the space needed for a
pteroma, greatly increase the extent of the cella. So, while leaving all
the rest in the same symmetrical proportions, they appear to have
produced a new kind of plan with the new name "pseudoperipteral." These
kinds, however, vary according to the requirements of the sacrifices.
For we must not build temples according to the same rules to all gods
alike, since the performance of the sacred rites varies with the various
gods.

7. I have now set forth, as they have come down to me, all the
principles governing the building of temples, have marked out under
separate heads their arrangements and proportions, and have set forth,
so far as I could express them in writing, the differences in their
plans and the distinctions which make them unlike one another. Next,
with regard to the altars of the immortal gods, I shall state how they
may be constructed so as to conform to the rules governing sacrifices.




CHAPTER IX

ALTARS


Altars should face the east, and should always be placed on a lower
level than are the statues in the temples, so that those who are praying
and sacrificing may look upwards towards the divinity. They are of
different heights, being each regulated so as to be appropriate to its
own god. Their heights are to be adjusted thus: for Jupiter and all the
celestials, let them be constructed as high as possible; for Vesta and
Mother Earth, let them be built low. In accordance with these rules
will altars be adjusted when one is preparing his plans.

Having described the arrangements of temples in this book, in the
following we shall give an exposition of the construction of public
buildings.




BOOK V




INTRODUCTION


1. Those who have filled books of unusually large size, Emperor, in
setting forth their intellectual ideas and doctrines, have thus made a
very great and remarkable addition to the authority of their writings. I
could wish that circumstances made this as permissible in the case of
our subject, so that the authority of the present treatise might be
increased by amplifications; but this is not so easy as it may be
thought. Writing on architecture is not like history or poetry. History
is captivating to the reader from its very nature; for it holds out the
hope of various novelties. Poetry, with its measures and metrical feet,
its refinement in the arrangement of words, and the delivery in verse of
the sentiments expressed by the several characters to one another,
delights the feelings of the reader, and leads him smoothly on to the
very end of the work.

2. But this cannot be the case with architectural treatises, because
those terms which originate in the peculiar needs of the art, give rise
to obscurity of ideas from the unusual nature of the language. Hence,
while the things themselves are not well known, and their names not in
common use, if besides this the principles are described in a very
diffuse fashion without any attempt at conciseness and explanation in a
few pellucid sentences, such fullness and amplitude of treatment will be
only a hindrance, and will give the reader nothing but indefinite
notions. Therefore, when I mention obscure terms, and the symmetrical
proportions of members of buildings, I shall give brief explanations, so
that they may be committed to memory; for thus expressed, the mind will
be enabled to understand them the more easily.

3. Furthermore, since I have observed that our citizens are distracted
with public affairs and private business, I have thought it best to
write briefly, so that my readers, whose intervals of leisure are small,
may be able to comprehend in a short time.

Then again, Pythagoras and those who came after him in his school
thought it proper to employ the principles of the cube in composing
books on their doctrines, and, having determined that the cube consisted
of 216[6] lines, held that there should be no more than three cubes in
any one treatise.

[Note 6: Codd. _CC. & L._]

4. A cube is a body with sides all of equal breadth and their surfaces
perfectly square. When thrown down, it stands firm and steady so long as
it is untouched, no matter on which of its sides it has fallen, like the
dice which players throw on the board. The Pythagoreans appear to have
drawn their analogy from the cube, because the number of lines mentioned
will be fixed firmly and steadily in the memory when they have once
settled down, like a cube, upon a man's understanding. The Greek comic
poets, also, divided their plays into parts by introducing a choral
song, and by this partition on the principle of the cubes, they relieve
the actor's speeches by such intermissions.

5. Since these rules, founded on the analogy of nature, were followed by
our predecessors, and since I observe that I have to write on unusual
subjects which many persons will find obscure, I have thought it best to
write in short books, so that they may the more readily strike the
understanding of the reader: for they will thus be easy to comprehend. I
have also arranged them so that those in search of knowledge on a
subject may not have to gather it from different places, but may find it
in one complete treatment, with the various classes set forth each in a
book by itself. Hence, Caesar, in the third and fourth books I gave the
rules for temples; in this book I shall treat of the laying out of
public places. I shall speak first of the proper arrangement of the
forum, for in it the course of both public and private affairs is
directed by the magistrates.




CHAPTER I

THE FORUM AND BASILICA


1. The Greeks lay out their forums in the form of a square surrounded by
very spacious double colonnades, adorn them with columns set rather
closely together, and with entablatures of stone or marble, and
construct walks above in the upper story. But in the cities of Italy the
same method cannot be followed, for the reason that it is a custom
handed down from our ancestors that gladiatorial shows should be given
in the forum.

[Illustration: _From Gsell_

FORUM AT TIMGAD

A, Forum. B, Basilica. C, Curia. C', Official Building. D, Small Temple.
E, Latrina. F, Atrium.]

2. Therefore let the intercolumniations round the show place be pretty
wide; round about in the colonnades put the bankers' offices; and have
balconies on the upper floor properly arranged so as to be convenient,
and to bring in some public revenue.

The size of a forum should be proportionate to the number of
inhabitants, so that it may not be too small a space to be useful, nor
look like a desert waste for lack of population. To determine its
breadth, divide its length into three parts and assign two of them to
the breadth. Its shape will then be oblong, and its ground plan
conveniently suited to the conditions of shows.

3. The columns of the upper tier should be one fourth smaller than those
of the lower, because, for the purpose of bearing the load, what is
below ought to be stronger than what is above, and also, because we
ought to imitate nature as seen in the case of things growing; for
example, in round smooth-stemmed trees, like the fir, cypress, and pine,
every one of which is rather thick just above the roots and then, as it
goes on increasing in height, tapers off naturally and symmetrically in
growing up to the top. Hence, if nature requires this in things growing,
it is the right arrangement that what is above should be less in height
and thickness than what is below.

4. Basilicas should be constructed on a site adjoining the forum and in
the warmest possible quarter, so that in winter business men may gather
in them without being troubled by the weather. In breadth they should be
not less than one third nor more than one half of their length, unless
the site is naturally such as to prevent this and to oblige an
alteration in these proportions. If the length of the site is greater
than necessary, Chalcidian porches may be constructed at the ends, as in
the Julia Aquiliana.

5. It is thought that the columns of basilicas ought to be as high as
the side-aisles are broad; an aisle should be limited to one third of
the breadth which the open space in the middle is to have. Let the
columns of the upper tier be smaller than those of the lower, as written
above. The screen, to be placed between the upper and the lower tiers of
columns, ought to be, it is thought, one fourth lower than the columns
of the upper tier, so that people walking in the upper story of the
basilica may not be seen by the business men. The architraves, friezes,
and cornices should be adjusted to the proportions of the columns, as
we have stated in the third book.

[Illustration: _From Mau_

FORUM AT POMPEII

A, Forum. B, Basilica. C, Temple of Apollo. D, D', Market Buildings. E,
Latrina. F, City Treasury. G, Memorial Arch. H, Temple of Jupiter. I,
Arch of Tiberius. K, Macellum (provision market). L, Sanctuary of the
City Lares. M, Temple of Vespasian. N, Building of Eumachia. O,
Comitium. P, Office of the Duumvirs. Q, The City Council. R, Office of
the Aediles.]

6. But basilicas of the greatest dignity and beauty may also be
constructed in the style of that one which I erected, and the building
of which I superintended at Fano. Its proportions and symmetrical
relations were established as follows. In the middle, the main roof
between the columns is 120 feet long and sixty feet wide. Its aisle
round the space beneath the main roof and between the walls and the
columns is twenty feet broad. The columns, of unbroken height, measuring
with their capitals fifty feet, and being each five feet thick, have
behind them pilasters, twenty feet high, two and one half feet broad,
and one and one half feet thick, which support the beams on which is
carried the upper flooring of the aisles. Above them are other
pilasters, eighteen feet high, two feet broad, and a foot thick, which
carry the beams supporting the principal raftering and the roof of the
aisles, which is brought down lower than the main roof.

[Illustration: _From Durm_

PLAN OF THE BASILICA AT POMPEII]

7. The spaces remaining between the beams supported by the pilasters and
the columns, are left for windows between the intercolumniations. The
columns are: on the breadth of the main roof at each end, four,
including the corner columns at right and left; on the long side which
is next to the forum, eight, including the same corner columns; on the
other side, six, including the corner columns. This is because the two
middle columns on that side are omitted, in order not to obstruct the
view of the pronaos of the temple of Augustus (which is built at the
middle of the side wall of the basilica, facing the middle of the forum
and the temple of Jupiter) and also the tribunal which is in the former
temple, shaped as a hemicycle whose curvature is less than a semicircle.

[Illustration: VITRUVIUS' BASILICA AT FANO]

8. The open side of this hemicycle is forty-six feet along the front,
and its curvature inwards is fifteen feet, so that those who are
standing before the magistrates may not be in the way of the business
men in the basilica. Round about, above the columns, are placed the
architraves, consisting of three two-foot timbers fastened together.
These return from the columns which stand third on the inner side to the
antae which project from the pronaos, and which touch the edges of the
hemicycle at right and left.

9. Above the architraves and regularly dispersed on supports directly
over the capitals, piers are placed, three feet high and four feet broad
each way. Above them is placed the projecting cornice round about, made
of two two-foot timbers. The tie-beams and struts, being placed above
them, and directly over the shafts of the columns and the antae and
walls of the pronaos, hold up one gable roof along the entire basilica,
and another from the middle of it, over the pronaos of the temple.

10. Thus the gable tops run in two directions, like the letter T, and
give a beautiful effect to the outside and inside of the main roof.
Further, by the omission of an ornamental entablature and of a line of
screens and a second tier of columns, troublesome labour is saved and
the total cost greatly diminished. On the other hand, the carrying of
the columns themselves in unbroken height directly up to the beams that
support the main roof, seems to add an air of sumptuousness and dignity
to the work.




CHAPTER II

THE TREASURY, PRISON, AND SENATE HOUSE


1. The treasury, prison, and senate house ought to adjoin the forum, but
in such a way that their dimensions may be proportionate to those of the
forum. Particularly, the senate house should be constructed with special
regard to the importance of the town or city. If the building is square,
let its height be fixed at one and one half times its breadth; but if it
is to be oblong, add together its length and breadth and, having got the
total, let half of it be devoted to the height up to the coffered
ceiling.

2. Further, the inside walls should be girdled, at a point halfway up
their height, with coronae made of woodwork or of stucco. Without these,
the voice of men engaged in discussion there will be carried up to the
height above, and so be unintelligible to their listeners. But when the
walls are girdled with coronae, the voice from below, being detained
before rising and becoming lost in the air, will be intelligible to the
ear.




CHAPTER III

THE THEATRE: ITS SITE, FOUNDATIONS AND ACOUSTICS


1. After the forum has been arranged, next, for the purpose of seeing
plays or festivals of the immortal gods, a site as healthy as possible
should be selected for the theatre, in accordance with what has been
written in the first book, on the principles of healthfulness in the
sites of cities. For when plays are given, the spectators, with their
wives and children, sit through them spell-bound, and their bodies,
motionless from enjoyment, have the pores open, into which blowing winds
find their way. If these winds come from marshy districts or from other
unwholesome quarters, they will introduce noxious exhalations into the
system. Hence, such faults will be avoided if the site of the theatre is
somewhat carefully selected.

2. We must also beware that it has not a southern exposure. When the sun
shines full upon the rounded part of it, the air, being shut up in the
curved enclosure and unable to circulate, stays there and becomes
heated; and getting glowing hot it burns up, dries out, and impairs the
fluids of the human body. For these reasons, sites which are unwholesome
in such respects are to be avoided, and healthy sites selected.

3. The foundation walls will be an easier matter if they are on a
hillside; but if they have to be laid on a plain or in a marshy place,
solidity must be assured and substructures built in accordance with what
has been written in the third book, on the foundations of temples. Above
the foundation walls, the ascending rows of seats, from the
substructures up, should be built of stone and marble materials.

4. The curved cross-aisles should be constructed in proportionate
relation, it is thought, to the height of the theatre, but not higher
than the footway of the passage is broad. If they are loftier, they will
throw back the voice and drive it away from the upper portion, thus
preventing the case-endings of words from reaching with distinct meaning
the ears of those who are in the uppermost seats above the cross-aisles.
In short, it should be so contrived that a line drawn from the lowest to
the highest seat will touch the top edges and angles of all the seats.
Thus the voice will meet with no obstruction.

5. The different entrances ought to be numerous and spacious, the upper
not connected with the lower, but built in a continuous straight line
from all parts of the house, without turnings, so that the people may
not be crowded together when let out from shows, but may have separate
exits from all parts without obstructions.

Particular pains must also be taken that the site be not a "deaf" one,
but one through which the voice can range with the greatest clearness.
This can be brought about if a site is selected where there is no
obstruction due to echo.

6. Voice is a flowing breath of air, perceptible to the hearing by
contact. It moves in an endless number of circular rounds, like the
innumerably increasing circular waves which appear when a stone is
thrown into smooth water, and which keep on spreading indefinitely from
the centre unless interrupted by narrow limits, or by some obstruction
which prevents such waves from reaching their end in due formation. When
they are interrupted by obstructions, the first waves, flowing back,
break up the formation of those which follow.

7. In the same manner the voice executes its movements in concentric
circles; but while in the case of water the circles move horizontally on
a plane surface, the voice not only proceeds horizontally, but also
ascends vertically by regular stages. Therefore, as in the case of the
waves formed in the water, so it is in the case of the voice: the first
wave, when there is no obstruction to interrupt it, does not break up
the second or the following waves, but they all reach the ears of the
lowest and highest spectators without an echo.

8. Hence the ancient architects, following in the footsteps of nature,
perfected the ascending rows of seats in theatres from their
investigations of the ascending voice, and, by means of the canonical
theory of the mathematicians and that of the musicians, endeavoured to
make every voice uttered on the stage come with greater clearness and
sweetness to the ears of the audience. For just as musical instruments
are brought to perfection of clearness in the sound of their strings by
means of bronze plates or horn [Greek: êcheia], so the ancients devised
methods of increasing the power of the voice in theatres through the
application of harmonics.




CHAPTER IV

HARMONICS


1. Harmonics is an obscure and difficult branch of musical science,
especially for those who do not know Greek. If we desire to treat of it,
we must use Greek words, because some of them have no Latin equivalents.
Hence, I will explain it as clearly as I can from the writings of
Aristoxenus, append his scheme, and define the boundaries of the notes,
so that with somewhat careful attention anybody may be able to
understand it pretty easily.

2. The voice, in its changes of position when shifting pitch, becomes
sometimes high, sometimes low, and its movements are of two kinds, in
one of which its progress is continuous, in the other by intervals. The
continuous voice does not become stationary at the "boundaries" or at
any definite place, and so the extremities of its progress are not
apparent, but the fact that there are differences of pitch is apparent,
as in our ordinary speech in _sol_, _lux_, _flos_, _vox_; for in these
cases we cannot tell at what pitch the voice begins, nor at what pitch
it leaves off, but the fact that it becomes low from high and high from
low is apparent to the ear. In its progress by intervals the opposite is
the case. For here, when the pitch shifts, the voice, by change of
position, stations itself on one pitch, then on another, and, as it
frequently repeats this alternating process, it appears to the senses to
become stationary, as happens in singing when we produce a variation of
the mode by changing the pitch of the voice. And so, since it moves by
intervals, the points at which it begins and where it leaves off are
obviously apparent in the boundaries of the notes, but the intermediate
points escape notice and are obscure, owing to the intervals.

3. There are three classes of modes: first, that which the Greeks term
the enharmonic; second, the chromatic; third, the diatonic. The
enharmonic mode is an artistic conception, and therefore execution in it
has a specially severe dignity and distinction. The chromatic, with its
delicate subtlety and with the "crowding" of its notes, gives a sweeter
kind of pleasure. In the diatonic, the distance between the intervals is
easier to understand, because it is natural. These three classes differ
in their arrangement of the tetrachord. In the enharmonic, the
tetrachord consists of two tones and two "dieses." A diesis is a quarter
tone; hence in a semitone there are included two dieses. In the
chromatic there are two semitones arranged in succession, and the third
interval is a tone and a half. In the diatonic, there are two
consecutive tones, and the third interval of a semitone completes the
tetrachord. Hence, in the three classes, the tetrachords are equally
composed of two tones and a semitone, but when they are regarded
separately according to the terms of each class, they differ in the
arrangement of their intervals.

4. Now then, these intervals of tones and semitones of the tetrachord
are a division introduced by nature in the case of the voice, and she
has defined their limits by measures according to the magnitude of the
intervals, and determined their characteristics in certain different
ways. These natural laws are followed by the skilled workmen who fashion
musical instruments, in bringing them to the perfection of their proper
concords.

[Illustration]

5. In each class there are eighteen notes, termed in Greek [Greek:
phthongoi], of which eight in all the three classes are constant and
fixed, while the other ten, not being tuned to the same pitch, are
variable. The fixed notes are those which, being placed between the
moveable, make up the unity of the tetrachord, and remain unaltered in
their boundaries according to the different classes. Their names are
proslambanomenos, hypate hypaton, hypate meson, mese, nete synhemmenon,
paramese, nete diezeugmenon, nete hyperbolaeon. The moveable notes are
those which, being arranged in the tetrachord between the immoveable,
change from place to place according to the different classes. They are
called parhypate hypaton, lichanos hypaton, parhypate meson, lichanos
meson, trite synhemmenon, paranete synhemmenon, trite diezeugmenon,
paranete diezeugmenon, trite hyperbolaeon, paranete hyperbolaeon.

[Illustration]

6. These notes, from being moveable, take on different qualities; for
they may stand at different intervals and increasing distances. Thus,
parhypate, which in the enharmonic is at the interval of half a semitone
from hypate, has a semitone interval when transferred to the chromatic.
What is called lichanos in the enharmonic is at the interval of a
semitone from hypate; but when shifted to the chromatic, it goes two
semitones away; and in the diatonic it is at an interval of three
semitones from hypate. Hence the ten notes produce three different kinds
of modes on account of their changes of position in the classes.

7. There are five tetrachords: first, the lowest, termed in Greek
[Greek: hypaton]; second, the middle, called [Greek: meson]; third, the
conjunct, termed [Greek: synêmmenon]; fourth, the disjunct, named
[Greek: diezeugmenon]; the fifth, which is the highest, is termed in
Greek [Greek: hyperbolaion]. The concords, termed in Greek [Greek:
symphôniai], of which human modulation will naturally admit, are six in
number: the fourth, the fifth, the octave, the octave and fourth, the
octave and fifth, and the double octave.

8. Their names are therefore due to numerical value; for when the voice
becomes stationary on some one note, and then, shifting its pitch,
changes its position and passes to the limit of the fourth note from
that one, we use the term "fourth"; when it passes to the fifth, the
term is "fifth."[7]

[Note 7: The remainder of this section is omitted from the
translation as being an obvious interpolation.]

9. For there can be no consonances either in the case of the notes of
stringed instruments or of the singing voice, between two intervals or
between three or six or seven; but, as written above, it is only the
harmonies of the fourth, the fifth, and so on up to the double octave,
that have boundaries naturally corresponding to those of the voice: and
these concords are produced by the union of the notes.




CHAPTER V

SOUNDING VESSELS IN THE THEATRE


1. In accordance with the foregoing investigations on mathematical
principles, let bronze vessels be made, proportionate to the size of the
theatre, and let them be so fashioned that, when touched, they may
produce with one another the notes of the fourth, the fifth, and so on
up to the double octave. Then, having constructed niches in between the
seats of the theatre, let the vessels be arranged in them, in accordance
with musical laws, in such a way that they nowhere touch the wall, but
have a clear space all round them and room over their tops. They should
be set upside down, and be supported on the side facing the stage by
wedges not less than half a foot high. Opposite each niche, apertures
should be left in the surface of the seat next below, two feet long and
half a foot deep.

2. The arrangement of these vessels, with reference to the situations in
which they should be placed, may be described as follows. If the theatre
be of no great size, mark out a horizontal range halfway up, and in it
construct thirteen arched niches with twelve equal spaces between them,
so that of the above mentioned "echea" those which give the note nete
hyperbolaeon may be placed first on each side, in the niches which are
at the extreme ends; next to the ends and a fourth below in pitch, the
note nete diezeugmenon; third, paramese, a fourth below; fourth, nete
synhemmenon; fifth, mese, a fourth below; sixth, hypate meson, a fourth
below; and in the middle and another fourth below, one vessel giving the
note hypate hypaton.

3. On this principle of arrangement, the voice, uttered from the stage
as from a centre, and spreading and striking against the cavities of the
different vessels, as it comes in contact with them, will be increased
in clearness of sound, and will wake an harmonious note in unison with
itself.

But if the theatre be rather large, let its height be divided into four
parts, so that three horizontal ranges of niches may be marked out and
constructed: one for the enharmonic, another for the chromatic, and the
third for the diatonic system. Beginning with the bottom range, let the
arrangement be as described above in the case of a smaller theatre, but
on the enharmonic system.

[Illustration]

4. In the middle range, place first at the extreme ends the vessels
which give the note of the chromatic hyperbolaeon; next to them, those
which give the chromatic diezeugmenon, a fourth below; third, the
chromatic synhemmenon; fourth, the chromatic meson, a fourth below;
fifth, the chromatic hypaton, a fourth below; sixth, the paramese, for
this is both the concord of the fifth to the chromatic hyperbolaeon, and
the concord[8] of the chromatic synhemmenon.

[Note 8: Codd. _diatessaron_, which is impossible, paramese being
the concord of the fourth to the chromatic meson, and identical with the
chromatic synhemmenon.]

5. No vessel is to be placed in the middle, for the reason that there is
no other note in the chromatic system that forms a natural concord of
sound.

In the highest division and range of niches, place at the extreme ends
vessels fashioned so as to give the note of the diatonic hyperbolaeon;
next, the diatonic diezeugmenon, a fourth below; third, the diatonic
synhemmenon; fourth, the diatonic meson, a fourth below; fifth, the
diatonic hypaton, a fourth below; sixth, the proslambanomenos, a fourth
below; in the middle, the note mese, for this is both the octave to
proslambanomenos, and the concord of the fifth to the diatonic hypaton.

6. Whoever wishes to carry out these principles with ease, has only to
consult the scheme at the end of this book, drawn up in accordance with
the laws of music. It was left by Aristoxenus, who with great ability
and labour classified and arranged in it the different modes. In
accordance with it, and by giving heed to these theories, one can easily
bring a theatre to perfection, from the point of view of the nature of
the voice, so as to give pleasure to the audience.

7. Somebody will perhaps say that many theatres are built every year in
Rome, and that in them no attention at all is paid to these principles;
but he will be in error, from the fact that all our public theatres made
of wood contain a great deal of boarding, which must be resonant. This
may be observed from the behaviour of those who sing to the lyre, who,
when they wish to sing in a higher key, turn towards the folding doors
on the stage, and thus by their aid are reinforced with a sound in
harmony with the voice. But when theatres are built of solid materials
like masonry, stone, or marble, which cannot be resonant, then the
principles of the "echea" must be applied.

8. If, however, it is asked in what theatre these vessels have been
employed, we cannot point to any in Rome itself, but only to those in
the districts of Italy and in a good many Greek states. We have also the
evidence of Lucius Mummius, who, after destroying the theatre in
Corinth, brought its bronze vessels to Rome, and made a dedicatory
offering at the temple of Luna with the money obtained from the sale of
them. Besides, many skilful architects, in constructing theatres in
small towns, have, for lack of means, taken large jars made of clay, but
similarly resonant, and have produced very advantageous results by
arranging them on the principles described.




CHAPTER VI

PLAN OF THE THEATRE


1. The plan of the theatre itself is to be constructed as follows.
Having fixed upon the principal centre, draw a line of circumference
equivalent to what is to be the perimeter at the bottom, and in it
inscribe four equilateral triangles, at equal distances apart and
touching the boundary line of the circle, as the astrologers do in a
figure of the twelve signs of the zodiac, when they are making
computations from the musical harmony of the stars. Taking that one of
these triangles whose side is nearest to the scaena, let the front of
the scaena be determined by the line where that side cuts off a segment
of the circle (A-B), and draw, through the centre, a parallel line (C-D)
set off from that position, to separate the platform of the stage from
the space of the orchestra.

2. The platform has to be made deeper than that of the Greeks, because
all our artists perform on the stage, while the orchestra contains the
places reserved for the seats of senators. The height of this platform
must be not more than five feet, in order that those who sit in the
orchestra may be able to see the performances of all the actors. The
sections (cunei) for spectators in the theatre should be so divided,
that the angles of the triangles which run about the circumference of
the circle may give the direction for the flights of steps between the
sections, as far as up to the first curved cross-aisle. Above this, the
upper sections are to be laid out, midway between (the lower sections),
with alternating passage-ways.

3. The angles at the bottom, which give the directions for the flights
of steps, will be seven in number (C, E, F, G, H, I, D); the other five
angles will determine the arrangement of the scene: thus, the angle in
the middle ought to have the "royal door" (K) opposite to it; the angles
to the right and left (L, M) will designate the position of the doors
for guest chambers; and the two outermost angles (A, B) will point to
the passages in the wings. The steps for the spectators' places, where
the seats are arranged, should be not less than a foot and a palm in
height, nor more than a foot and six fingers; their depth should be
fixed at not more than two and a half feet, nor less than two feet.

[Illustration: THE ROMAN THEATRE ACCORDING TO VITRUVIUS]

4. The roof of the colonnade to be built at the top of the rows of
seats, should lie level with the top of the "scaena," for the reason
that the voice will then rise with equal power until it reaches the
highest rows of seats and the roof. If the roof is not so high, in
proportion as it is lower, it will check the voice at the point which
the sound first reaches.

5. Take one sixth of the diameter of the orchestra between the lowest
steps, and let the lower seats at the ends on both sides be cut away to
a height of that dimension so as to leave entrances (O, P). At the point
where this cutting away occurs, fix the soffits of the passages. Thus
their vaulting will be sufficiently high.

6. The length of the "scaena" ought to be double the diameter of the
orchestra. The height of the podium, starting from the level of the
stage, is, including the corona and cymatium, one twelfth of the
diameter of the orchestra. Above the podium, the columns, including
their capitals and bases, should have a height of one quarter of the
same diameter, and the architraves and ornaments of the columns should
be one fifth of their height. The parapet above, including its cyma and
corona, is one half the height of the parapet below. Let the columns
above this parapet be one fourth less in height than the columns below,
and the architraves and ornaments of these columns one fifth of their
height. If the "scaena" is to have three stories, let the uppermost
parapet be half the height of the intermediate one, the columns at the
top one fourth less high than the intermediate, and the architraves and
coronae of these columns one fifth of their height as before.

[Illustration: _From Durm_

THE THEATRE AT ASPENDUS]

7. It is not possible, however, that in all theatres these rules of
symmetry should answer all conditions and purposes, but the architect
ought to consider to what extent he must follow the principle of
symmetry, and to what extent it may be modified to suit the nature of
the site or the size of the work. There are, of course, some things
which, for utility's sake, must be made of the same size in a small
theatre, and a large one: such as the steps, curved cross-aisles, their
parapets, the passages, stairways, stages, tribunals, and any other
things which occur that make it necessary to give up symmetry so as not
to interfere with utility. Again, if in the course of the work any of
the material fall short, such as marble, timber, or anything else that
is provided, it will not be amiss to make a slight reduction or
addition, provided that it is done without going too far, but with
intelligence. This will be possible, if the architect is a man of
practical experience and, besides, not destitute of cleverness and
skill.

8. The "scaena" itself displays the following scheme. In the centre are
double doors decorated like those of a royal palace. At the right and
left are the doors of the guest chambers. Beyond are spaces provided for
decoration--places that the Greeks call [Greek: periaktoi], because in
these places are triangular pieces of machinery ([Greek: D, D]) which
revolve, each having three decorated faces. When the play is to be
changed, or when gods enter to the accompaniment of sudden claps of
thunder, these may be revolved and present a face differently decorated.
Beyond these places are the projecting wings which afford entrances to
the stage, one from the forum, the other from abroad.

9. There are three kinds of scenes, one called the tragic, second, the
comic, third, the satyric. Their decorations are different and unlike
each other in scheme. Tragic scenes are delineated with columns,
pediments, statues, and other objects suited to kings; comic scenes
exhibit private dwellings, with balconies and views representing rows of
windows, after the manner of ordinary dwellings; satyric scenes are
decorated with trees, caverns, mountains, and other rustic objects
delineated in landscape style.




CHAPTER VII

GREEK THEATRES


1. In the theatres of the Greeks, these same rules of construction are
not to be followed in all respects. First, in the circle at the bottom
where the Roman has four triangles, the Greek has three squares with
their angles touching the line of circumference. The square whose side
is nearest to the "scaena," and cuts off a segment of the circle,
determines by this line the limits of the "proscaenium" (A, B). Parallel
to this line and tangent to the outer circumference of the segment, a
line is drawn which fixes the front of the "scaena" (C-D). Through the
centre of the orchestra and parallel to the direction of the
"proscaenium," a line is laid off, and centres are marked where it cuts
the circumference to the right and left (E, F) at the ends of the
half-circle. Then, with the compasses fixed at the right, an arc is
described from the horizontal distance at the left to the left hand side
of the "proscaenium" (F, G); again with the centre at the left end, an
arc is described from the horizontal distance at the right to the right
hand side of the "proscaenium" (E, H).

2. As a result of this plan with three centres, the Greeks have a
roomier orchestra, and a "scaena" set further back, as well as a stage
of less depth. They call this the [Greek: logeion], for the reason that
there the tragic and comic actors perform on the stage, while other
artists give their performances in the entire orchestra; hence, from
this fact they are given in Greek the distinct names "Scenic" and
"Thymelic." The height of this "logeum" ought to be not less than ten
feet nor more than twelve. Let the ascending flights of steps between
the wedges of seats, as far up as the first curved cross-aisle, be laid
out on lines directly opposite to the angles of the squares. Above the
cross-aisle, let other flights be laid out in the middle between the
first; and at the top, as often as there is a new cross-aisle, the
number of flights of steps is always increased to the same extent.

[Illustration: THE GREEK THEATRE ACCORDING TO VITRUVIUS]




CHAPTER VIII

ACOUSTICS OF THE SITE OF A THEATRE


1. All this having been settled with the greatest pains and skill, we
must see to it, with still greater care, that a site has been selected
where the voice has a gentle fall, and is not driven back with a recoil
so as to convey an indistinct meaning to the ear. There are some places
which from their very nature interfere with the course of the voice, as
for instance the dissonant, which are termed in Greek [Greek:
katêchountes]; the circumsonant, which with them are named [Greek:
periêchountes]; again the resonant, which are termed [Greek:
antêchountes]; and the consonant, which they call [Greek: synêchountes].
The dissonant are those places in which the first sound uttered that is
carried up high, strikes against solid bodies above, and, being driven
back, checks as it sinks to the bottom the rise of the succeeding sound.

2. The circumsonant are those in which the voice spreads all round, and
then is forced into the middle, where it dissolves, the case-endings are
not heard, and it dies away there in sounds of indistinct meaning. The
resonant are those in which it comes into contact with some solid
substance and recoils, thus producing an echo, and making the
terminations of cases sound double. The consonant are those in which it
is supported from below, increases as it goes up, and reaches the ears
in words which are distinct and clear in tone. Hence, if there has been
careful attention in the selection of the site, the effect of the voice
will, through this precaution, be perfectly suited to the purposes of a
theatre.

The drawings of the plans may be distinguished from each other by this
difference, that theatres designed from squares are meant to be used by
Greeks, while Roman theatres are designed from equilateral triangles.
Whoever is willing to follow these directions will be able to construct
perfectly correct theatres.




CHAPTER IX

COLONNADES AND WALKS


1. Colonnades must be constructed behind the scaena, so that when sudden
showers interrupt plays, the people may have somewhere to retire from
the theatre, and so that there may be room for the preparation of all
the outfit of the stage. Such places, for instance, are the colonnades
of Pompey, and also, in Athens, the colonnades of Eumenes and the fane
of Father Bacchus; also, as you leave the theatre, the music hall which
Themistocles surrounded with stone columns, and roofed with the yards
and masts of ships captured from the Persians. It was burned during the
war with Mithridates, and afterwards restored by King Ariobarzanes. At
Smyrna there is the Stratoniceum, at Tralles, a colonnade on each side
of the scaena above the race course, and in other cities which have had
careful architects there are colonnades and walks about the theatres.

2. The approved way of building them requires that they should be
double, and have Doric columns on the outside, with the architraves and
their ornaments finished according to the law of modular proportion. The
approved depth for them requires that the depth, from the lower part of
the outermost columns to the columns in the middle, and from the middle
columns to the wall enclosing the walk under the colonnade, should be
equal to the height of the outer columns. Let the middle columns be one
fifth higher than the outer columns, and designed in the Ionic or
Corinthian style.

3. The columns will not be subject to the same rules of symmetry and
proportion which I prescribed in the case of sanctuaries; for the
dignity which ought to be their quality in temples of the gods is one
thing, but their elegance in colonnades and other public works is quite
another. Hence, if the columns are to be of the Doric order, let their
height, including the capital, be measured off into fifteen parts. Of
these parts, let one be fixed upon to form the module, and in
accordance with this module the whole work is to be developed. Let the
thickness of the columns at the bottom be two modules; an
intercolumniation, five and a half modules; the height of a column,
excluding the capital, fourteen modules; the capital, one module in
height and two and one sixth modules in breadth. Let the modular
proportions of the rest of the work be carried out as written in the
fourth book in the case of temples.

4. But if the columns are to be Ionic, let the shaft, excluding base and
capital, be divided into eight and one half parts, and let one of these
be assigned to the thickness of a column. Let the base, including the
plinth, be fixed at half the thickness, and let the proportions of the
capital be as shown in the third book. If the column is to be
Corinthian, let its shaft and base be proportioned as in the Ionic, but
its capital, as has been written in the fourth book. In the stylobates,
let the increase made there by means of the "scamilli impares" be taken
from the description written above in the third book. Let the
architraves, coronae, and all the rest be developed, in proportion to
the columns, from what has been written in the foregoing books.

5. The space in the middle, between the colonnades and open to the sky,
ought to be embellished with green things; for walking in the open air
is very healthy, particularly for the eyes, since the refined and
rarefied air that comes from green things, finding its way in because of
the physical exercise, gives a clean-cut image, and, by clearing away
the gross humours from the eyes, leaves the sight keen and the image
distinct. Besides, as the body gets warm with exercise in walking, this
air, by sucking out the humours from the frame, diminishes their
superabundance, and disperses and thus reduces that superfluity which is
more than the body can bear.

6. That this is so may be seen from the fact that misty vapours never
arise from springs of water which are under cover, nor even from watery
marshes which are underground; but in uncovered places which are open to
the sky, when the rising sun begins to act upon the world with its
heat, it brings out the vapour from damp and watery spots, and rolls it
in masses upwards. Therefore, if it appears that in places open to the
sky the more noxious humours are sucked out of the body by the air, as
they obviously are from the earth in the form of mists, I think there is
no doubt that cities should be provided with the roomiest and most
ornamented walks, laid out under the free and open sky.

7. That they may be always dry and not muddy, the following is to be
done. Let them be dug down and cleared out to the lowest possible depth.
At the right and left construct covered drains, and in their walls,
which are directed towards the walks, lay earthen pipes with their lower
ends inclined into the drains. Having finished these, fill up the place
with charcoal, and then strew sand over the walks and level them off.
Hence, on account of the porous nature of the charcoal and the insertion
of the pipes into the drains, quantities of water will be conducted
away, and the walks will thus be rendered perfectly dry and without
moisture.

8. Furthermore, our ancestors in establishing these works provided
cities with storehouses for an indispensable material. The fact is that
in sieges everything else is easier to procure than is wood. Salt can
easily be brought in beforehand; corn can be got together quickly by the
State or by individuals, and if it gives out, the defence may be
maintained on cabbage, meat, or beans; water can be had by digging
wells, or when there are sudden falls of rain, by collecting it from the
tiles. But a stock of wood, which is absolutely necessary for cooking
food, is a difficult and troublesome thing to provide; for it is slow to
gather and a good deal is consumed.

9. On such occasions, therefore, these walks are thrown open, and a
definite allowance granted to each inhabitant according to tribes. Thus
these uncovered walks insure two excellent things: first, health in time
of peace; secondly, safety in time of war. Hence, walks that are
developed on these principles, and built not only behind the "scaena"
of theatres, but also at the temples of all the gods, will be capable of
being of great use to cities.

[Illustration: _Photo. Brooklyn Institute_

THE TEPIDARIUM OF THE STABIAN BATHS AT POMPEII]

[Illustration: _Photo. Brooklyn Institute_

APODYTERIUM FOR WOMEN IN THE STABIAN BATHS AT POMPEII]

As it appears that we have given an adequate account of them, next will
follow descriptions of the arrangements of baths.




CHAPTER X

BATHS


1. In the first place, the warmest possible situation must be selected;
that is, one which faces away from the north and northeast. The rooms
for the hot and tepid baths should be lighted from the southwest, or, if
the nature of the situation prevents this, at all events from the south,
because the set time for bathing is principally from midday to evening.
We must also see to it that the hot bath rooms in the women's and men's
departments adjoin each other, and are situated in the same quarter; for
thus it will be possible that the same furnace should serve both of them
and their fittings. Three bronze cauldrons are to be set over the
furnace, one for hot, another for tepid, and the third for cold water,
placed in such positions that the amount of water which flows out of the
hot water cauldron may be replaced from that for tepid water, and in the
same way the cauldron for tepid water may be supplied from that for
cold. The arrangement must allow the semi-cylinders for the bath basins
to be heated from the same furnace.

2. The hanging floors of the hot bath rooms are to be constructed as
follows. First the surface of the ground should be laid with tiles a
foot and a half square, sloping towards the furnace in such a way that,
if a ball is thrown in, it cannot stop inside but must return of itself
to the furnace room; thus the heat of the fire will more readily spread
under the hanging flooring. Upon them, pillars made of eight-inch bricks
are built, and set at such a distance apart that two-foot tiles may be
used to cover them. These pillars should be two feet in height, laid
with clay mixed with hair, and covered on top with the two-foot tiles
which support the floor.

[Illustration: The Stabian Baths at Pompeii

S, S. Shops. B. Private Baths. A-T. Men's Bath. A'-T'. Women's Baths. E,
E'. Entrances. A, A'. Apodyteria. F. Frigidarium. T, T'. Tepidarium. C,
C. Caldarium. K, K, K. Kettles in furnace room. P. Piscina.]

3. The vaulted ceilings will be more serviceable if built of masonry;
but if they are of framework, they should have tile work on the under
side, to be constructed as follows. Let iron bars or arcs be made, and
hang them to the framework by means of iron hooks set as close together
as possible; and let these bars or arcs be placed at such distances
apart that each pair of them may support and carry an unflanged tile.
Thus the entire vaulting will be completely supported on iron. These
vaults should have the joints on their upper side daubed with clay mixed
with hair, and their under side, facing the floor, should first be
plastered with pounded tile mixed with lime, and then covered with
polished stucco in relief or smooth. Vaults in hot bath rooms will be
more serviceable if they are doubled; for then the moisture from the
heat will not be able to spoil the timber in the framework, but will
merely circulate between the two vaults.

4. The size of the baths must depend upon the number of the population.
The rooms should be thus proportioned: let their breadth be one third of
their length, excluding the niches for the washbowl and the bath basin.
The washbowl ought without fail to be placed under a window, so that the
shadows of those who stand round it may not obstruct the light. Niches
for washbowls must be made so roomy that when the first comers have
taken their places, the others who are waiting round may have proper
standing room. The bath basin should be not less than six feet broad
from the wall to the edge, the lower step and the "cushion" taking up
two feet of this space.

5. The Laconicum and other sweating baths must adjoin the tepid room,
and their height to the bottom of the curved dome should be equal to
their width. Let an aperture be left in the middle of the dome with a
bronze disc hanging from it by chains. By raising and lowering it, the
temperature of the sweating bath can be regulated. The chamber itself
ought, as it seems, to be circular, so that the force of the fire and
heat may spread evenly from the centre all round the circumference.




CHAPTER XI

THE PALAESTRA


1. Next, although the building of palaestrae is not usual in Italy, I
think it best to set forth the traditional way, and to show how they are
constructed among the Greeks. The square or oblong peristyle in a
palaestra should be so formed that the circuit of it makes a walk of two
stadia, a distance which the Greeks call the [Greek: diaulos]. Let three
of its colonnades be single, but let the fourth, which is on the south
side, be double, so that when there is bad weather accompanied by wind,
the drops of rain may not be able to reach the interior.

2. In the three colonnades construct roomy recesses (A) with seats in
them, where philosophers, rhetoricians, and others who delight in
learning may sit and converse. In the double colonnade let the rooms be
arranged thus: the young men's hall (B) in the middle; this is a very
spacious recess (exedra) with seats in it, and it should be one third
longer than it is broad. At the right, the bag room (C); then next, the
dust room (D); beyond the dust room, at the corner of the colonnade, the
cold washing room (E), which the Greeks call [Greek: loutron]. At the
left of the young men's hall is the anointing room (F); then, next to
the anointing room, the cold bath room (G), and beyond that a passage
into the furnace room (H) at the corner of the colonnade. Next, but
inside and on a line with the cold bath room, put the vaulted sweating
bath (I), its length twice its breadth, and having at the ends on one
side a Laconicum (K), proportioned in the same manner as above
described, and opposite the Laconicum the warm washing room (L). Inside
a palaestra, the peristyle ought to be laid out as described above.

3. But on the outside, let three colonnades be arranged, one as you
leave the peristyle and two at the right and left, with running-tracks
in them. That one of them which faces the north should be a double
colonnade of very ample breadth, while the other should be single, and
so constructed that on the sides next the walls and the side along the
columns it may have edges, serving as paths, of not less than ten feet,
with the space between them sunken, so that steps are necessary in going
down from the edges a foot and a half to the plane, which plane should
be not less than twelve feet wide. Thus people walking round on the
edges will not be interfered with by the anointed who are exercising.

[Illustration: I. THE PALAESTRA AT OLYMPIA; II. THE GREEK PALAESTRA
ACCORDING TO VITRUVIUS]

4. This kind of colonnade is called among the Greeks [Greek: xystos],
because athletes during the winter season exercise in covered running
tracks. Next to this "xystus" and to the double colonnade should be laid
out the uncovered walks which the Greeks term [Greek: paradromides] and
our people "xysta," into which, in fair weather during the winter, the
athletes come out from the "xystus" for exercise. The "xysta" ought to
be so constructed that there may be plantations between the two
colonnades, or groves of plane trees, with walks laid out in them among
the trees and resting places there, made of "opus signinum." Behind the
"xystus" a stadium, so designed that great numbers of people may have
plenty of room to look on at the contests between the athletes.

I have now described all that seemed necessary for the proper
arrangement of things within the city walls.




CHAPTER XII

HARBOURS, BREAKWATERS, AND SHIPYARDS


1. The subject of the usefulness of harbours is one which I must not
omit, but must explain by what means ships are sheltered in them from
storms. If their situation has natural advantages, with projecting capes
or promontories which curve or return inwards by their natural
conformation, such harbours are obviously of the greatest service. Round
them, of course, colonnades or shipyards must be built, or passages from
the colonnades to the business quarters, and towers must be set up on
both sides, from which chains can be drawn across by machinery.

2. But if we have a situation without natural advantages, and unfit to
shelter ships from storms, it is obvious that we must proceed as
follows. If there is no river in the neighbourhood, but if there can be
a roadstead on one side, then, let the advances be made from the other
side by means of walls or embankments, and let the enclosing harbour be
thus formed. Walls which are to be under water should be constructed as
follows. Take the powder which comes from the country extending from
Cumae to the promontory of Minerva, and mix it in the mortar trough in
the proportion of two to one.

3. Then, in the place previously determined, a cofferdam, with its sides
formed of oaken stakes with ties between them, is to be driven down into
the water and firmly propped there; then, the lower surface inside,
under the water, must be levelled off and dredged, working from beams
laid across; and finally, concrete from the mortar trough--the stuff
having been mixed as prescribed above--must be heaped up until the empty
space which was within the cofferdam is filled up by the wall. This,
however, is possessed as a gift of nature by such places as have been
described above.

But if by reason of currents or the assaults of the open sea the props
cannot hold the cofferdam together, then, let a platform of the greatest
possible strength be constructed, beginning on the ground itself or on a
substructure; and let the platform be constructed with a level surface
for less than half its extent, while the rest, which is close to the
beach, slopes down and out.

4. Then, on the water's edge and at the sides of the platform, let
marginal walls be constructed, about one and one half feet thick and
brought up to a level with the surface above mentioned; next, let the
sloping part be filled in with sand and levelled off with the marginal
wall and the surface of the platform. Then, upon this level surface
construct a block as large as is required, and when it is finished,
leave it for not less than two months to dry. Then, cut away the
marginal wall which supports the sand. Thus, the sand will be undermined
by the waves, and this will cause the block to fall into the sea. By
this method, repeated as often as necessary, an advance into the water
can be made.

5. But in places where this powder is not found, the following method
must be employed. A cofferdam with double sides, composed of charred
stakes fastened together with ties, should be constructed in the
appointed place, and clay in wicker baskets made of swamp rushes should
be packed in among the props. After this has been well packed down and
filled in as closely as possible, set up your water-screws, wheels, and
drums, and let the space now bounded by the enclosure be emptied and
dried. Then, dig out the bottom within the enclosure. If it proves to be
of earth, it must be cleared out and dried till you come to solid bottom
and for a space wider than the wall which is to be built upon it, and
then filled in with masonry consisting of rubble, lime, and sand.

6. But if the place proves to be soft, the bottom must be staked with
piles made of charred alder or olive wood, and then filled in with
charcoal as has been prescribed in the case of the foundations of
theatres and the city wall. Finally, build the wall of dimension stone,
with the bond stones as long as possible, so that particularly the
stones in the middle may be held together by the joints. Then, fill the
inside of the wall with broken stone or masonry. It will thus be
possible for even a tower to be built upon it.

7. When all this is finished, the general rule for shipyards will be to
build them facing the north. Southern exposures from their heat produce
rot, the wood worm, shipworms, and all sorts of other destructive
creatures, and strengthen and keep them alive. And these buildings must
by no means be constructed of wood, for fear of fire. As for their size,
no definite limit need be set, but they must be built to suit the
largest type of ship, so that if even larger ships are hauled up, they
may find plenty of room there.

I have described in this book the construction and completion of all
that I could remember as necessary for general use in the public places
of cities. In the following book I shall consider private houses, their
conveniences, and symmetrical proportions.




BOOK VI




INTRODUCTION


1. It is related of the Socratic philosopher Aristippus that, being
shipwrecked and cast ashore on the coast of the Rhodians, he observed
geometrical figures drawn thereon, and cried out to his companions: "Let
us be of good cheer, for I see the traces of man." With that he made for
the city of Rhodes, and went straight to the gymnasium. There he fell to
discussing philosophical subjects, and presents were bestowed upon him,
so that he could not only fit himself out, but could also provide those
who accompanied him with clothing and all other necessaries of life.
When his companions wished to return to their country, and asked him
what message he wished them to carry home, he bade them say this: that
children ought to be provided with property and resources of a kind that
could swim with them even out of a shipwreck.

2. These are indeed the true supports of life, and neither Fortune's
adverse gale, nor political revolution, nor ravages of war can do them
any harm. Developing the same idea, Theophrastus, urging men to acquire
learning rather than to put their trust in money, states the case thus:
"The man of learning is the only person in the world who is neither a
stranger when in a foreign land, nor friendless when he has lost his
intimates and relatives; on the contrary, he is a citizen of every
country, and can fearlessly look down upon the troublesome accidents of
fortune. But he who thinks himself entrenched in defences not of
learning but of luck, moves in slippery paths, struggling through life
unsteadily and insecurely."

3. And Epicurus, in much the same way, says that the wise owe little to
fortune; all that is greatest and essential is under the direction of
the thinking power of the mind and the understanding. Many other
philosophers have said the same thing. Likewise the poets who wrote the
ancient comedies in Greek have expressed the same sentiments in their
verses on the stage: for example, Eucrates, Chionides, Aristophanes, and
with them Alexis in particular, who says that the Athenians ought to be
praised for the reason that, while the laws of all Greeks require the
maintenance of parents by their children, the laws of the Athenians
require this only in the case of those who have educated their children
in the arts. All the gifts which fortune bestows she can easily take
away; but education, when combined with intelligence, never fails, but
abides steadily on to the very end of life.

4. Hence, I am very much obliged and infinitely grateful to my parents
for their approval of this Athenian law, and for having taken care that
I should be taught an art, and that of a sort which cannot be brought to
perfection without learning and a liberal education in all branches of
instruction. Thanks, therefore, to the attention of my parents and the
instruction given by my teachers, I obtained a wide range of knowledge,
and by the pleasure which I take in literary and artistic subjects, and
in the writing of treatises, I have acquired intellectual possessions
whose chief fruits are these thoughts: that superfluity is useless, and
that not to feel the want of anything is true riches. There may be some
people, however, who deem all this of no consequence, and think that the
wise are those who have plenty of money. Hence it is that very many, in
pursuit of that end, take upon themselves impudent assurance, and attain
notoriety and wealth at the same time.

5. But for my part, Caesar, I have never been eager to make money by my
art, but have gone on the principle that slender means and a good
reputation are preferable to wealth and disrepute. For this reason, only
a little celebrity has followed; but still, my hope is that, with the
publication of these books, I shall become known even to posterity. And
it is not to be wondered at that I am so generally unknown. Other
architects go about and ask for opportunities to practise their
profession; but I have been taught by my instructors that it is the
proper thing to undertake a charge only after being asked, and not to
ask for it; since a gentleman will blush with shame at petitioning for
a thing that arouses suspicion. It is in fact those who can grant
favours that are courted, not those who receive them. What are we to
think must be the suspicions of a man who is asked to allow his private
means to be expended in order to please a petitioner? Must he not
believe that the thing is to be done for the profit and advantage of
that individual?

6. Hence it was that the ancients used to entrust their work in the
first place to architects of good family, and next inquired whether they
had been properly educated, believing that one ought to trust in the
honour of a gentleman rather than in the assurance of impudence. And the
architects themselves would teach none but their own sons or kinsmen,
and trained them to be good men, who could be trusted without hesitation
in matters of such importance.

But when I see that this grand art is boldly professed by the uneducated
and the unskilful, and by men who, far from being acquainted with
architecture, have no knowledge even of the carpenter's trade, I can
find nothing but praise for those householders who, in the confidence of
learning, are emboldened to build for themselves. Their judgment is
that, if they must trust to inexperienced persons, it is more becoming
to them to use up a good round sum at their own pleasure than at that of
a stranger.

7. Nobody, therefore, attempts to practise any other art in his own
home--as, for instance, the shoemaker's, or the fuller's, or any other
of the easier kinds--but only architecture, and this is because the
professionals do not possess the genuine art but term themselves
architects falsely. For these reasons I have thought proper to compose
most carefully a complete treatise on architecture and its principles,
believing that it will be no unacceptable gift to all the world. In the
fifth book I have said what I had to say about the convenient
arrangement of public works; in this I shall set forth the theoretical
principles and the symmetrical proportions of private houses.




CHAPTER I

ON CLIMATE AS DETERMINING THE STYLE OF THE HOUSE


1. If our designs for private houses are to be correct, we must at the
outset take note of the countries and climates in which they are built.
One style of house seems appropriate to build in Egypt, another in
Spain, a different kind in Pontus, one still different in Rome, and so
on with lands and countries of other characteristics. This is because
one part of the earth is directly under the sun's course, another is far
away from it, while another lies midway between these two. Hence, as the
position of the heaven with regard to a given tract on the earth leads
naturally to different characteristics, owing to the inclination of the
circle of the zodiac and the course of the sun, it is obvious that
designs for houses ought similarly to conform to the nature of the
country and to diversities of climate.

2. In the north, houses should be entirely roofed over and sheltered as
much as possible, not in the open, though having a warm exposure. But on
the other hand, where the force of the sun is great in the southern
countries that suffer from heat, houses must be built more in the open
and with a northern or north-eastern exposure. Thus we may amend by art
what nature, if left to herself, would mar. In other situations, also,
we must make modifications to correspond to the position of the heaven
and its effects on climate.

3. These effects are noticeable and discernible not only in things in
nature, but they also are observable in the limbs and bodies of entire
races. In places on which the sun throws out its heat in moderation, it
keeps human bodies in their proper condition, and where its path is very
close at hand, it parches them up, and burns out and takes away the
proportion of moisture which they ought to possess. But, on the other
hand, in the cold regions that are far away from the south, the
moisture is not drawn out by hot weather, but the atmosphere is full of
dampness which diffuses moisture into the system, and makes the frame
larger and the pitch of the voice deeper. This is also the reason why
the races that are bred in the north are of vast height, and have fair
complexions, straight red hair, grey eyes, and a great deal of blood,
owing to the abundance of moisture and the coolness of the atmosphere.

4. On the contrary, those that are nearest to the southern half of the
axis, and that lie directly under the sun's course, are of lower
stature, with a swarthy complexion, hair curling, black eyes, strong
legs, and but little blood on account of the force of the sun. Hence,
too, this poverty of blood makes them over-timid to stand up against the
sword, but great heat and fevers they can endure without timidity,
because their frames are bred up in the raging heat. Hence, men that are
born in the north are rendered over-timid and weak by fever, but their
wealth of blood enables them to stand up against the sword without
timidity.

[Illustration]

5. The pitch of the voice is likewise different and varying in quality
with different nations, for the following reasons. The terminating
points east and west on the level of the earth, where the upper and
lower parts of the heaven are divided, seem to lie in a naturally
balanced circle which mathematicians call the Horizon. Keeping this idea
definitely in mind, if we imagine a line drawn from the northern side of
the circumference (N) to the side which lies above the southern half of
the axis (S), and from here another line obliquely up to the pivot at
the summit, beyond the stars composing the Great Bear (the pole star P),
we shall doubtless see that we have in the heaven a triangular figure
like that of the musical instrument which the Greeks call the
"sambuca."

6. And so, under the space which is nearest to the pivot at the bottom,
off the southern portions of the line of the axis, are found nations
that on account of the slight altitude of the heaven above them, have
shrill and very high-pitched voices, like the string nearest to the
angle in the musical instrument. Next in order come other nations as far
as the middle of Greece, with lower elevations of the voice; and from
this middle point they go on in regular order up to the extreme north,
where, under high altitudes, the vocal utterance of the inhabitants is,
under natural laws, produced in heavier tones. Thus it is obvious that
the system of the universe as a whole is, on account of the inclination
of the heaven, composed in a most perfect harmony through the temporary
power of the sun.

7. The nations, therefore, that lie midway between the pivots at the
southern and the northern extremities of the axis, converse in a voice
of middle pitch, like the notes in the middle of a musical scale; but,
as we proceed towards the north, the distances to the heaven become
greater, and so the nations there, whose vocal utterance is reduced by
the moisture to the "hypatès" and to "proslambanomenon," are naturally
obliged to speak in heavier tones. In the same way, as we proceed from
the middle point to the south, the voices of the nations there
correspond in extreme height of pitch and in shrillness to the
"paranetès" and "netès."

8. That it is a fact that things are made heavier from being in places
naturally moist, and higher pitched from places that are hot, may be
proved from the following experiment. Take two cups which have been
baked in the same oven for an equal time, which are of equal weight, and
which give the same note when struck. Dip one of them into water and,
after taking it out of water, strike them both. This done, there will be
a great difference in their notes, and the cups can no longer be equal
in weight. Thus it is with men: though born in the same general form and
under the same all-embracing heaven, yet in some of them, on account of
the heat in their country, the voice strikes the air on a high note,
while in others, on account of abundance of moisture, the quality of
tones produced is very heavy.

9. Further, it is owing to the rarity of the atmosphere that southern
nations, with their keen intelligence due to the heat, are very free and
swift in the devising of schemes, while northern nations, being
enveloped in a dense atmosphere, and chilled by moisture from the
obstructing air, have but a sluggish intelligence. That this is so, we
may see from the case of snakes. Their movements are most active in hot
weather, when they have got rid of the chill due to moisture, whereas at
the winter solstice, and in winter weather, they are chilled by the
change of temperature, and rendered torpid and motionless. It is
therefore no wonder that man's intelligence is made keener by warm air
and duller by cold.

10. But although southern nations have the keenest wits, and are
infinitely clever in forming schemes, yet the moment it comes to
displaying valour, they succumb because all manliness of spirit is
sucked out of them by the sun. On the other hand, men born in cold
countries are indeed readier to meet the shock of arms with great
courage and without timidity, but their wits are so slow that they will
rush to the charge inconsiderately and inexpertly, thus defeating their
own devices. Such being nature's arrangement of the universe, and all
these nations being allotted temperaments which are lacking in due
moderation, the truly perfect territory, situated under the middle of
the heaven, and having on each side the entire extent of the world and
its countries, is that which is occupied by the Roman people.

11. In fact, the races of Italy are the most perfectly constituted in
both respects--in bodily form and in mental activity to correspond to
their valour. Exactly as the planet Jupiter is itself temperate, its
course lying midway between Mars, which is very hot, and Saturn, which
is very cold, so Italy, lying between the north and the south, is a
combination of what is found on each side, and her preëminence is well
regulated and indisputable. And so by her wisdom she breaks the
courageous onsets of the barbarians, and by her strength of hand
thwarts the devices of the southerners. Hence, it was the divine
intelligence that set the city of the Roman people in a peerless and
temperate country, in order that it might acquire the right to command
the whole world.

12. Now if it is a fact that countries differ from one another, and are
of various classes according to climate, so that the very nations born
therein naturally differ in mental and physical conformation and
qualities, we cannot hesitate to make our houses suitable in plan to the
peculiarities of nations and races, since we have the expert guidance of
nature herself ready to our hand.

I have now set forth the peculiar characteristics of localities, so far
as I could note them, in the most summary way, and have stated how we
ought to make our houses conform to the physical qualities of nations,
with due regard to the course of the sun and to climate. Next I shall
treat the symmetrical proportions of the different styles of houses,
both as wholes and in their separate parts.




CHAPTER II

SYMMETRY, AND MODIFICATIONS IN IT TO SUIT THE SITE


1. There is nothing to which an architect should devote more thought
than to the exact proportions of his building with reference to a
certain part selected as the standard. After the standard of symmetry
has been determined, and the proportionate dimensions adjusted by
calculations, it is next the part of wisdom to consider the nature of
the site, or questions of use or beauty, and modify the plan by
diminutions or additions in such a manner that these diminutions or
additions in the symmetrical relations may be seen to be made on correct
principles, and without detracting at all from the effect.

2. The look of a building when seen close at hand is one thing, on a
height it is another, not the same in an enclosed place, still
different in the open, and in all these cases it takes much judgment to
decide what is to be done. The fact is that the eye does not always give
a true impression, but very often leads the mind to form a false
judgment. In painted scenery, for example, columns may appear to jut
out, mutules to project, and statues to be standing in the foreground,
although the picture is of course perfectly flat. Similarly with ships,
the oars when under the water are straight, though to the eye they
appear to be broken. To the point where they touch the surface of the
sea they look straight, as indeed they are, but when dipped under the
water they emit from their bodies undulating images which come swimming
up through the naturally transparent medium to the surface of the water,
and, being there thrown into commotion, make the oars look broken.

3. Now whether this appearance is due to the impact of the images, or to
the effusion of the rays from the eye, as the physicists hold, in either
case it is obvious that the vision may lead us to false impressions.

4. Since, therefore, the reality may have a false appearance, and since
things are sometimes represented by the eyes as other than they are, I
think it certain that diminutions or additions should be made to suit
the nature or needs of the site, but in such fashion that the buildings
lose nothing thereby. These results, however, are also attainable by
flashes of genius, and not only by mere science.

5. Hence, the first thing to settle is the standard of symmetry, from
which we need not hesitate to vary. Then, lay out the ground lines of
the length and breadth of the work proposed, and when once we have
determined its size, let the construction follow this with due regard to
beauty of proportion, so that the beholder may feel no doubt of the
eurythmy of its effect. I must now tell how this may be brought about,
and first I will speak of the proper construction of a cavaedium.




CHAPTER III

PROPORTIONS OF THE PRINCIPAL ROOMS


1. There are five different styles of cavaedium, termed according to
their construction as follows: Tuscan, Corinthian, tetrastyle,
displuviate, and testudinate.

In the Tuscan, the girders that cross the breadth of the atrium have
crossbeams on them, and valleys sloping in and running from the angles
of the walls to the angles formed by the beams, and the rainwater falls
down along the rafters to the roof-opening (compluvium) in the middle.

In the Corinthian, the girders and roof-opening are constructed on these
same principles, but the girders run in from the side walls, and are
supported all round on columns.

In the tetrastyle, the girders are supported at the angles by columns,
an arrangement which relieves and strengthens the girders; for thus they
have themselves no great span to support, and they are not loaded down
by the crossbeams.

[Illustration: _From Mau_

THE HOUSE OF THE SURGEON, POMPEII

Illustrating the Tuscan Atrium

1. Fauces
2, 3. Shops
4. Storage
5. Atrium
6. Chambers
7. Tablinum
8. Alae
9, 10. Dining rooms
13. Kitchen, _a_, hearth
14. Rear Entrance
16. Portico
18. Stairs to rooms over the rear of the house
20. Garden

]

[Illustration: _From Mau_

HOUSE OF EPIDIUS RUFUS AT POMPEII

Illustrating Corinthian Atrium]

2. In the displuviate, there are beams which slope outwards, supporting
the roof and throwing the rainwater off. This style is suitable chiefly
in winter residences, for its roof-opening, being high up, is not an
obstruction to the light of the dining rooms. It is, however, very
troublesome to keep in repair, because the pipes, which are intended to
hold the water that comes dripping down the walls all round, cannot take
it quickly enough as it runs down from the channels, but get too full
and run over, thus spoiling the woodwork and the walls of houses of this
style.

[Illustration: _From Mau_

HOUSE OF THE SILVER WEDDING AT POMPEII

Illustrating the Tetrastyle Atrium

_a._ fauces
_d._ tetrastyle atrium
_n._ dining room
_o._ tablinum
_p._ andron
_r._ peristyle
_w._ summer dining room

]

The testudinate is employed where the span is not great, and where large
rooms are provided in upper stories.

3. In width and length, atriums are designed according to three classes.
The first is laid out by dividing the length into five parts and giving
three parts to the width; the second, by dividing it into three parts
and assigning two parts to the width; the third, by using the width to
describe a square figure with equal sides, drawing a diagonal line in
this square, and giving the atrium the length of this diagonal line.

4. Their height up to the girders should be one fourth less than their
width, the rest being the proportion assigned to the ceiling and the
roof above the girders.

The alae, to the right and left, should have a width equal to one third
of the length of the atrium, when that is from thirty to forty feet
long. From forty to fifty feet, divide the length by three and one
half, and give the alae the result. When it is from fifty to sixty feet
in length, devote one fourth of the length to the alae. From sixty to
eighty feet, divide the length by four and one half and let the result
be the width of the alae. From eighty feet to one hundred feet, the
length divided into five parts will produce the right width for the
alae. Their lintel beams should be placed high enough to make the height
of the alae equal to their width.

5. The tablinum should be given two thirds of the width of the atrium
when the latter is twenty feet wide. If it is from thirty to forty feet,
let half the width of the atrium be devoted to the tablinum. When it is
from forty to sixty feet, divide the width into five parts and let two
of these be set apart for the tablinum. In the case of smaller atriums,
the symmetrical proportions cannot be the same as in larger. For if, in
the case of the smaller, we employ the proportion that belong to the
larger, both tablina and alae must be unserviceable, while if, in the
case of the larger, we employ the proportions of the smaller, the rooms
mentioned will be huge monstrosities. Hence, I have thought it best to
describe exactly their respective proportionate sizes, with a view both
to convenience and to beauty.

[Illustration: _From Mau_

PLAN OF A TYPICAL ROMAN HOUSE]

6. The height of the tablinum at the lintel should be one eighth more
than its width. Its ceiling should exceed this height by one third of
the width. The fauces in the case of smaller atriums should be two
thirds, and in the case of larger one half the width of the tablinum.
Let the busts of ancestors with their ornaments be set up at a height
corresponding to the width of the alae. The proportionate width and
height of doors may be settled, if they are Doric, in the Doric manner,
and if Ionic, in the Ionic manner, according to the rules of symmetry
which have been given about portals in the fourth book. In the
roof-opening let an aperture be left with a breadth of not less than
one fourth nor more than one third the width of the atrium, and with a
length proportionate to that of the atrium.

[Illustration: _Photo. Sommer_

THE PERISTYLE OF THE HOUSE OF THE VETTII AT POMPEII]

7. Peristyles, lying athwart, should be one third longer than they are
deep, and their columns as high as the colonnades are wide.
Intercolumniations of peristyles should be not less than three nor more
than four times the thickness of the columns. If the columns of the
peristyle are to be made in the Doric style, take the modules which I
have given in the fourth book, on the Doric order, and arrange the
columns with reference to these modules and to the scheme of the
triglyphs.

[Illustration: _From Durm_

PLAN OF THE HOUSE OF THE VETTII, POMPEII]

8. Dining rooms ought to be twice as long as they are wide. The height
of all oblong rooms should be calculated by adding together their
measured length and width, taking one half of this total, and using the
result for the height. But in the case of exedrae or square oeci, let
the height be brought up to one and one half times the width. Picture
galleries, like exedrae, should be constructed of generous dimensions.
Corinthian and tetrastyle oeci, as well as those termed Egyptian, should
have the same symmetrical proportions in width and length as the dining
rooms described above, but, since they have columns in them, their
dimensions should be ampler.

9. The following will be the distinction between Corinthian and Egyptian
oeci: the Corinthian have single tiers of columns, set either on a
podium or on the ground, with architraves over them and coronae either
of woodwork or of stucco, and carved vaulted ceilings above the coronae.
In the Egyptian there are architraves over the columns, and joists laid
thereon from the architraves to the surrounding walls, with a floor in
the upper story to allow of walking round under the open sky. Then,
above the architrave and perpendicularly over the lower tier of columns,
columns one fourth smaller should be imposed. Above their architraves
and ornaments are decorated ceilings, and the upper columns have windows
set in between them. Thus the Egyptian are not like Corinthian dining
rooms, but obviously resemble basilicas.

10. There are also, though not customary in Italy, the oeci which the
Greeks call Cyzicene. These are built with a northern exposure and
generally command a view of gardens, and have folding doors in the
middle. They are also so long and so wide that two sets of dining
couches, facing each other, with room to pass round them, can be placed
therein. On the right and left they have windows which open like folding
doors, so that views of the garden may be had from the dining couches
through the opened windows. The height of such rooms is one and one half
times their width.

11. All the above-mentioned symmetrical relations should be observed, in
these kinds of buildings, that can be observed without embarrassment
caused by the situation. The windows will be an easy matter to arrange
if they are not darkened by high walls; but in cases of confined space,
or when there are other unavoidable obstructions, it will be permissible
to make diminutions or additions in the symmetrical relations,--with
ingenuity and acuteness, however, so that the result may be not unlike
the beauty which is due to true symmetry.




CHAPTER IV

THE PROPER EXPOSURES OF THE DIFFERENT ROOMS


1. We shall next explain how the special purposes of different rooms
require different exposures, suited to convenience and to the quarters
of the sky. Winter dining rooms and bathrooms should have a southwestern
exposure, for the reason that they need the evening light, and also
because the setting sun, facing them in all its splendour but with
abated heat, lends a gentler warmth to that quarter in the evening.
Bedrooms and libraries ought to have an eastern exposure, because their
purposes require the morning light, and also because books in such
libraries will not decay. In libraries with southern exposures the books
are ruined by worms and dampness, because damp winds come up, which
breed and nourish the worms, and destroy the books with mould, by
spreading their damp breath over them.

2. Dining rooms for Spring and Autumn to the east; for when the windows
face that quarter, the sun, as he goes on his career from over against
them to the west, leaves such rooms at the proper temperature at the
time when it is customary to use them. Summer dining rooms to the north,
because that quarter is not, like the others, burning with heat during
the solstice, for the reason that it is unexposed to the sun's course,
and hence it always keeps cool, and makes the use of the rooms both
healthy and agreeable. Similarly with picture galleries, embroiderers'
work rooms, and painters' studios, in order that the fixed light may
permit the colours used in their work to last with qualities unchanged.




CHAPTER V

HOW THE ROOMS SHOULD BE SUITED TO THE STATION OF THE OWNER


1. After settling the positions of the rooms with regard to the quarters
of the sky, we must next consider the principles on which should be
constructed those apartments in private houses which are meant for the
householders themselves, and those which are to be shared in common with
outsiders. The private rooms are those into which nobody has the right
to enter without an invitation, such as bedrooms, dining rooms,
bathrooms, and all others used for the like purposes. The common are
those which any of the people have a perfect right to enter, even
without an invitation: that is, entrance courts, cavaedia, peristyles,
and all intended for the like purpose. Hence, men of everyday fortune do
not need entrance courts, tablina, or atriums built in grand style,
because such men are more apt to discharge their social obligations by
going round to others than to have others come to them.

2. Those who do business in country produce must have stalls and shops
in their entrance courts, with crypts, granaries, store-rooms, and so
forth in their houses, constructed more for the purpose of keeping the
produce in good condition than for ornamental beauty.

For capitalists and farmers of the revenue, somewhat comfortable and
showy apartments must be constructed, secure against robbery; for
advocates and public speakers, handsomer and more roomy, to accommodate
meetings; for men of rank who, from holding offices and magistracies,
have social obligations to their fellow-citizens, lofty entrance courts
in regal style, and most spacious atriums and peristyles, with
plantations and walks of some extent in them, appropriate to their
dignity. They need also libraries, picture galleries, and basilicas,
finished in a style similar to that of great public buildings, since
public councils as well as private law suits and hearings before
arbitrators are very often held in the houses of such men.

3. If, therefore, houses are planned on these principles to suit
different classes of persons, as prescribed in my first book, under the
subject of Propriety, there will be no room for criticism; for they will
be arranged with convenience and perfection to suit every purpose. The
rules on these points will hold not only for houses in town, but also
for those in the country, except that in town atriums are usually next
to the front door, while in country seats peristyles come first, and
then atriums surrounded by paved colonnades opening upon palaestrae and
walks.

I have now set forth the rules for houses in town so far as I could
describe them in a summary way. Next I shall state how farmhouses may be
arranged with a view to convenience in use, and shall give the rules for
their construction.




CHAPTER VI

THE FARMHOUSE


1. In the first place, inspect the country from the point of view of
health, in accordance with what is written in my first book, on the
building of cities, and let your farmhouses be situated accordingly.
Their dimensions should depend upon the size of the farm and the amount
of produce. Their courtyards and the dimensions thereof should be
determined by the number of cattle and the number of yokes of oxen that
will need to be kept therein. Let the kitchen be placed on the warmest
side of the courtyard, with the stalls for the oxen adjoining, and their
cribs facing the kitchen fire and the eastern quarter of the sky, for
the reason that oxen facing the light and the fire do not get
rough-coated. Even peasants wholly without knowledge of the quarters of
the sky believe that oxen ought to face only in the direction of the
sunrise.

[Illustration: _From Mau_

THE VILLA RUSTICA AT BOSCOREALE NEAR POMPEII

_A._ Court. _B._ Kitchen. _C-F._ Baths. _H._ Stable.
_J._ Toolroom. _K, L, V, V._ Bedrooms.
_N._ Dining Room. _M._ Anteroom. _O._ Bakery.
_P._ Room with two winepresses. _Q._ Corridor.
_B._ Court for fermentation of wine. _S._ Barn.
_T._ Threshing-floor. _Y._ Room with oil press.

]

2. Their stalls ought to be not less than ten nor more than fifteen feet
wide, and long enough to allow not less than seven feet for each yoke.
Bathrooms, also, should adjoin the kitchen; for in this situation it
will not take long to get ready a bath in the country.

Let the pressing room, also, be next to the kitchen; for in this
situation it will be easy to deal with the fruit of the olive. Adjoining
it should be the wine room with its windows lighted from the north. In a
room with windows on any other quarter so that the sun can heat it, the
heat will get into the wine and make it weak.

3. The oil room must be situated so as to get its light from the south
and from warm quarters; for oil ought not to be chilled, but should be
kept thin by gentle heat. In dimensions, oil rooms should be built to
accommodate the crop and the proper number of jars, each of which,
holding about one hundred and twenty gallons, must take up a space four
feet in diameter. The pressing room itself, if the pressure is exerted
by means of levers and a beam, and not worked by turning screws, should
be not less than forty feet long, which will give the lever man a
convenient amount of space. It should be not less than sixteen feet
wide, which will give the men who are at work plenty of free space to do
the turning conveniently. If two presses are required in the place,
allow twenty-four feet for the width.

4. Folds for sheep and goats must be made large enough to allow each
animal a space of not less than four and a half, nor more than six feet.
Rooms for grain should be set in an elevated position and with a
northern or north-eastern exposure. Thus the grain will not be able to
heat quickly, but, being cooled by the wind, keeps a long time. Other
exposures produce the corn weevil and the other little creatures that
are wont to spoil the grain. To the stable should be assigned the very
warmest place in the farmhouse, provided that it is not exposed to the
kitchen fire; for when draught animals are stabled very near a fire,
their coats get rough.

5. Furthermore, there are advantages in building cribs apart from the
kitchen and in the open, facing the east; for when the oxen are taken
over to them on early winter mornings in clear weather, their coats get
sleeker as they take their fodder in the sunlight. Barns for grain, hay,
and spelt, as well as bakeries, should be built apart from the
farmhouse, so that farmhouses may be better protected against danger
from fire. If something more refined is required in farmhouses, they may
be constructed on the principles of symmetry which have been given above
in the case of town houses, provided that there is nothing in such
buildings to interfere with their usefulness on a farm.

6. We must take care that all buildings are well lighted, but this is
obviously an easier matter with those which are on country estates,
because there can be no neighbour's wall to interfere, whereas in town
high party walls or limited space obstruct the light and make them dark.
Hence we must apply the following test in this matter. On the side from
which the light should be obtained let a line be stretched from the top
of the wall that seems to obstruct the light to the point at which it
ought to be introduced, and if a considerable space of open sky can be
seen when one looks up above that line, there will be no obstruction to
the light in that situation.

7. But if there are timbers in the way, or lintels, or upper stories,
then, make the opening higher up and introduce the light in this way.
And as a general rule, we must arrange so as to leave places for windows
on all sides on which a clear view of the sky can be had, for this will
make our buildings light. Not only in dining rooms and other rooms for
general use are windows very necessary, but also in passages, level or
inclined, and on stairs; for people carrying burdens too often meet and
run against each other in such places.

I have now set forth the plans used for buildings in our native country
so that they may be clear to builders. Next, I shall describe summarily
how houses are planned in the Greek fashion, so that these also may be
understood.




CHAPTER VII

THE GREEK HOUSE


1. The Greeks, having no use for atriums, do not build them, but make
passage-ways for people entering from the front door, not very wide,
with stables on one side and doorkeepers' rooms on the other, and shut
off by doors at the inner end. This place between the two doors is
termed in Greek [Greek: thyrôreion]. From it one enters the peristyle.
This peristyle has colonnades on three sides, and on the side facing the
south it has two antae, a considerable distance apart, carrying an
architrave, with a recess for a distance one third less than the space
between the antae. This space is called by some writers "prostas," by
others "pastas."

[Illustration: PLAN OF VITRUVIUS' GREEK HOUSE ACCORDING TO BECKER]

2. Hereabouts, towards the inner side, are the large rooms in which
mistresses of houses sit with their wool-spinners. To the right and left
of the prostas there are chambers, one of which is called the
"thalamos," the other the "amphithalamos." All round the colonnades are
dining rooms for everyday use, chambers, and rooms for the slaves. This
part of the house is termed "gynaeconitis."

3. In connexion with these there are ampler sets of apartments with more
sumptuous peristyles, surrounded by four colonnades of equal height, or
else the one which faces the south has higher columns than the others. A
peristyle that has one such higher colonnade is called a Rhodian
peristyle. Such apartments have fine entrance courts with imposing front
doors of their own; the colonnades of the peristyles are decorated with
polished stucco in relief and plain, and with coffered ceilings of
woodwork; off the colonnades that face the north they have Cyzicene
dining rooms and picture galleries; to the east, libraries; exedrae to
the west; and to the south, large square rooms of such generous
dimensions that four sets of dining couches can easily be arranged in
them, with plenty of room for serving and for the amusements.

4. Men's dinner parties are held in these large rooms; for it was not
the practice, according to Greek custom, for the mistress of the house
to be present. On the contrary, such peristyles are called the men's
apartments, since in them the men can stay without interruption from the
women. Furthermore, small sets of apartments are built to the right and
left, with front doors of their own and suitable dining rooms and
chambers, so that guests from abroad need not be shown into the
peristyles, but rather into such guests' apartments. For when the Greeks
became more luxurious, and their circumstances more opulent, they began
to provide dining rooms, chambers, and store-rooms of provisions for
their guests from abroad, and on the first day they would invite them to
dinner, sending them on the next chickens, eggs, vegetables, fruits, and
other country produce. This is why artists called pictures representing
the things which were sent to guests "xenia." Thus, too, the heads of
families, while being entertained abroad, had the feeling that they were
not away from home, since they enjoyed privacy and freedom in such
guests' apartments.

[Illustration: _From Bull. de. Corr. Hell. 1895_

GREEK HOUSE AT DELOS]

5. Between the two peristyles and the guests' apartments are the
passage-ways called "mesauloe," because they are situated midway between
two courts; but our people called them "andrones."

This, however, is a very strange fact, for the term does not fit either
the Greek or the Latin use of it. The Greeks call the large rooms in
which men's dinner parties are usually held [Greek: andrônes], because
women do not go there. There are other similar instances as in the case
of "xystus," "prothyrum," "telamones," and some others of the sort. As a
Greek term, [Greek: xystos] means a colonnade of large dimensions in
which athletes exercise in the winter time. But our people apply the
term "xysta" to uncovered walks, which the Greeks call [Greek:
paradromides]. Again, [Greek: prothyra] means in Greek the entrance
courts before the front doors; we, however, use the term "prothyra" in
the sense of the Greek [Greek: diathyra].

[Illustration: _From Mitt. d. Deutsch. Arch. Inst_.

GREEK HOUSE DISCOVERED AT PERGAMUM IN 1903

13. Prothyron. 7. Tablinum.]

6. Again, figures in the form of men supporting mutules or coronae, we
term "telamones"--the reasons why or wherefore they are so called are
not found in any story--but the Greeks name them [Greek: atlantes]. For
Atlas is described in story as holding up the firmament because, through
his vigorous intelligence and ingenuity, he was the first to cause men
to be taught about the courses of the sun and moon, and the laws
governing the revolutions of all the constellations. Consequently, in
recognition of this benefaction, painters and sculptors represent him
as holding up the firmament, and the Atlantides, his daughters, whom we
call "Vergiliae" and the Greeks [Greek: Pleiades], are consecrated in
the firmament among the constellations.

7. All this, however, I have not set forth for the purpose of changing
the usual terminology or language, but I have thought that it should be
explained so that it may be known to scholars.

I have now explained the usual ways of planning houses both in the
Italian fashion and according to the practices of the Greeks, and have
described, with regard to their symmetry, the proportions of the
different classes. Having, therefore, already written of their beauty
and propriety, I shall next explain, with reference to durability, how
they may be built to last to a great age without defects.




CHAPTER VIII

ON FOUNDATIONS AND SUBSTRUCTURES


1. Houses which are set level with the ground will no doubt last to a
great age, if their foundations are laid in the manner which we have
explained in the earlier books, with regard to city walls and theatres.
But if underground rooms and vaults are intended, their foundations
ought to be thicker than the walls which are to be constructed in the
upper part of the house, and the walls, piers, and columns of the latter
should be set perpendicularly over the middle of the foundation walls
below, so that they may have solid bearing; for if the load of the walls
or columns rests on the middle of spans, they can have no permanent
durability.

2. It will also do no harm to insert posts between lintels and sills
where there are piers or antae; for where the lintels and beams have
received the load of the walls, they may sag in the middle, and
gradually undermine and destroy the walls. But when there are posts set
up underneath and wedged in there, they prevent the beams from settling
and injuring such walls.

3. We must also manage to discharge the load of the walls by means of
archings composed of voussoirs with joints radiating to the centre. For
when arches with voussoirs are sprung from the ends of beams, or from
the bearings of lintels, in the first place they will discharge the load
and the wood will not sag; secondly, if in course of time the wood
becomes at all defective, it can easily be replaced without the
construction of shoring.

4. Likewise in houses where piers are used in the construction, when
there are arches composed of voussoirs with joints radiating to the
centre, the outermost piers at these points must be made broader than
the others, so that they may have the strength to resist when the
wedges, under the pressure of the load of the walls, begin to press
along their joints towards the centre, and thus to thrust out the
abutments. Hence, if the piers at the ends are of large dimensions, they
will hold the voussoirs together, and make such works durable.

5. Having taken heed in these matters to see that proper attention is
paid to them, we must also be equally careful that all walls are
perfectly vertical, and that they do not lean forward anywhere.
Particular pains, too, must be taken with substructures, for here an
endless amount of harm is usually done by the earth used as filling.
This cannot always remain of the same weight that it usually has in
summer, but in winter time it increases in weight and bulk by taking up
a great deal of rain water, and then it bursts its enclosing walls and
thrusts them out.

6. The following means must be taken to provide against such a defect.
First, let the walls be given a thickness proportionate to the amount of
filling; secondly, build counterforts or buttresses at the same time as
the wall, on the outer side, at distances from each other equivalent to
what is to be the height of the substructure and with the thickness of
the substructure. At the bottom let them run out to a distance
corresponding to the thickness that has been determined for the
substructure, and then gradually diminish in extent so that at the
surface their projection is equal to the thickness of the wall of the
building.

[Illustration: RETAINING WALLS

(From the edition of Vitruvius by Fra Giocondo, Venice 1511)]

7. Furthermore, inside, to meet the mass of earth, there should be
saw-shaped constructions attached to the wall, the single teeth
extending from the wall for a distance equivalent to what is to be the
height of the substructure, and the teeth being constructed with the
same thickness as the wall. Then at the outermost angles take a distance
inwards, from the inside of the angle, equal to the height of the
substructure, and mark it off on each side; from these marks build up a
diagonal structure and from the middle of it a second, joined on to the
angle of the wall. With this arrangement, the teeth and diagonal
structures will not allow the filling to thrust with all its force
against the wall, but will check and distribute the pressure.

8. I have now shown how buildings can be constructed without defects,
and the way to take precautions against the occurrence of them. As for
replacing tiles, roof timbers, and rafters, we need not be so particular
about them as about the parts just mentioned, because they can easily be
replaced, however defective they may become. Hence, I have shown by what
methods the parts which are not considered solid can be rendered
durable, and how they are constructed.

9. As for the kind of material to be used, this does not depend upon the
architect, for the reason that all kinds of materials are not found in
all places alike, as has been shown in the first book. Besides, it
depends on the owner whether he desires to build in brick, or rubble
work, or dimension stone. Consequently the question of approving any
work may be considered under three heads: that is, delicacy of
workmanship, sumptuousness, and design. When it appears that a work has
been carried out sumptuously, the owner will be the person to be praised
for the great outlay which he has authorized; when delicately, the
master workman will be approved for his execution; but when proportions
and symmetry lend it an imposing effect, then the glory of it will
belong to the architect.

10. Such results, however, may very well be brought about when he allows
himself to take the advice both of workmen and of laymen. In fact, all
kinds of men, and not merely architects, can recognize a good piece of
work, but between laymen and the latter there is this difference, that
the layman cannot tell what it is to be like without seeing it finished,
whereas the architect, as soon as he has formed the conception, and
before he begins the work, has a definite idea of the beauty, the
convenience, and the propriety that will distinguish it.

I have now described as clearly as I could what I thought necessary for
private houses, and how to build them. In the following book I shall
treat of the kinds of polished finish employed to make them elegant, and
durable without defects to a great age.




BOOK VII




INTRODUCTION


1. It was a wise and useful provision of the ancients to transmit their
thoughts to posterity by recording them in treatises, so that they
should not be lost, but, being developed in succeeding generations
through publication in books, should gradually attain in later times, to
the highest refinement of learning. And so the ancients deserve no
ordinary, but unending thanks, because they did not pass on in envious
silence, but took care that their ideas of every kind should be
transmitted to the future in their writings.

2. If they had not done so, we could not have known what deeds were done
in Troy, nor what Thales, Democritus, Anaxagoras, Xenophanes, and the
other physicists thought about nature, and what rules Socrates, Plato,
Aristotle, Zeno, Epicurus, and other philosophers laid down for the
conduct of human life; nor would the deeds and motives of Croesus,
Alexander, Darius, and other kings have been known, unless the ancients
had compiled treatises, and published them in commentaries to be had in
universal remembrance with posterity.

3. So, while they deserve our thanks, those, on the contrary, deserve
our reproaches, who steal the writings of such men and publish them as
their own; and those also, who depend in their writings, not on their
own ideas, but who enviously do wrong to the works of others and boast
of it, deserve not merely to be blamed, but to be sentenced to actual
punishment for their wicked course of life. With the ancients, however,
it is said that such things did not pass without pretty strict
chastisement. What the results of their judgments were, it may not be
out of place to set forth as they are transmitted to us.

4. The kings of the house of Attalus having established, under the
influence of the great charms of literature, an excellent library at
Pergamus to give pleasure to the public, Ptolemy also was aroused with
no end of enthusiasm and emulation into exertions to make a similar
provision with no less diligence at Alexandria. Having done so with the
greatest care, he felt that this was not enough without providing for
its increase and development, for which he sowed the seed. He
established public contests in honour of the Muses and Apollo, and
appointed prizes and honours for victorious authors in general, as is
done in the case of athletes.

5. These arrangements having been made, and the contests being at hand,
it became necessary to select literary men as judges to decide them. The
king soon selected six of the citizens, but could not so easily find a
proper person to be the seventh. He therefore turned to those who
presided over the library, and asked whether they knew anybody who was
suitable for the purpose. Then they told him that there was one
Aristophanes who was daily engaged in reading through all the books with
the greatest enthusiasm and the greatest care. Hence, when the gathering
for the contests took place, and separate seats were set apart for the
judges, Aristophanes was summoned with the rest, and sat down in the
place assigned to him.

6. A group of poets was first brought in to contend, and, as they
recited their compositions, the whole audience by its applause showed
the judges what it approved. So, when they were individually asked for
their votes, the six agreed, and awarded the first prize to the poet
who, as they observed, had most pleased the multitude, and the second to
the one who came next. But Aristophanes, on being asked for his vote,
urged that the poet who had least pleased the audience should be
declared to be the first.

7. As the king and the entire assembly showed great indignation, he
arose, and asked and received permission to speak. Silence being
obtained, he stated that only one of them--his man--was a poet, and that
the rest had recited things not their own; furthermore, that judges
ought to give their approval, not to thefts, but to original
compositions. The people were amazed, and the king hesitated, but
Aristophanes, trusting to his memory, had a vast number of volumes
brought out from bookcases which he specified, and, by comparing them
with what had been recited, obliged the thieves themselves to make
confession. So, the king gave orders that they should be accused of
theft, and after condemnation sent them off in disgrace; but he honoured
Aristophanes with the most generous gifts, and put him in charge of the
library.

8. Some years later, Zoilus, who took the surname of Homeromastix, came
from Macedonia to Alexandria and read to the king his writings directed
against the Iliad and Odyssey. Ptolemy, seeing the father of poets and
captain of all literature abused in his absence, and his works, to which
all the world looked up in admiration, disparaged by this person, made
no rejoinder, although he thought it an outrage. Zoilus, however, after
remaining in the kingdom some time, sank into poverty, and sent a
message to the king, requesting that something might be bestowed upon
him.

9. But it is said that the king replied, that Homer, though dead a
thousand years ago, had all that time been the means of livelihood for
many thousands of men; similarly, a person who laid claim to higher
genius ought to be able to support not one man only, but many others.
And in short, various stories are told about his death, which was like
that of one found guilty of parricide. Some writers have said that he
was crucified by Philadelphus; others that he was stoned at Chios;
others again that he was thrown alive upon a funeral pyre at Smyrna.
Whichever of these forms of death befell him, it was a fitting
punishment and his just due; for one who accuses men that cannot answer
and show, face to face, what was the meaning of their writings,
obviously deserves no other treatment.

10. But for my part, Caesar, I am not bringing forward the present
treatise after changing the titles of other men's books and inserting my
own name, nor has it been my plan to win approbation by finding fault
with the ideas of another. On the contrary, I express unlimited thanks
to all the authors that have in the past, by compiling from antiquity
remarkable instances of the skill shown by genius, provided us with
abundant materials of different kinds. Drawing from them as it were
water from springs, and converting them to our own purposes, we find our
powers of writing rendered more fluent and easy, and, relying upon such
authorities, we venture to produce new systems of instruction.

11. Hence, as I saw that such beginnings on their part formed an
introduction suited to the nature of my own purpose, I set out to draw
from them, and to go somewhat further.

In the first place Agatharcus, in Athens, when Aeschylus was bringing
out a tragedy, painted a scene, and left a commentary about it. This led
Democritus and Anaxagoras to write on the same subject, showing how,
given a centre in a definite place, the lines should naturally
correspond with due regard to the point of sight and the divergence of
the visual rays, so that by this deception a faithful representation of
the appearance of buildings might be given in painted scenery, and so
that, though all is drawn on a vertical flat façade, some parts may seem
to be withdrawing into the background, and others to be standing out in
front.

12. Afterwards Silenus published a book on the proportions of Doric
structures; Theodorus, on the Doric temple of Juno which is in Samos;
Chersiphron and Metagenes, on the Ionic temple at Ephesus which is
Diana's; Pytheos, on the Ionic fane of Minerva which is at Priene;
Ictinus and Carpion, on the Doric temple of Minerva which is on the
acropolis of Athens; Theodorus the Phocian, on the Round Building which
is at Delphi; Philo, on the proportions of temples, and on the naval
arsenal which was[9] at the port of Peiraeus; Hermogenes, on the Ionic
temple of Diana which is at Magnesia, a pseudodipteral, and on that of
Father Bacchus at Teos, a monopteral; Arcesius, on the Corinthian
proportions, and on the Ionic temple of Aesculapius at Tralles, which it
is said that he built with his own hands; on the Mausoleum, Satyrus and
Pytheos who were favoured with the greatest and highest good fortune.

[Note 9: Codd. _fuerat_.]

13. For men whose artistic talents are believed to have won them the
highest renown for all time, and laurels forever green, devised and
executed works of supreme excellence in this building. The decoration
and perfection of the different façades were undertaken by different
artists in emulation with each other: Leochares, Bryaxis, Scopas,
Praxiteles, and, as some think, Timotheus; and the distinguished
excellence of their art made that building famous among the seven
wonders of the world.

14. Then, too, many less celebrated men have written treatises on the
laws of symmetry, such as Nexaris, Theocydes, Demophilus, Pollis,
Leonidas, Silanion, Melampus, Sarnacus, and Euphranor; others again on
machinery, such as Diades, Archytas, Archimedes, Ctesibius, Nymphodorus,
Philo of Byzantium, Diphilus, Democles, Charias, Polyidus, Pyrrus, and
Agesistratus. From their commentaries I have gathered what I saw was
useful for the present subject, and formed it into one complete
treatise, and this principally, because I saw that many books in this
field had been published by the Greeks, but very few indeed by our
countrymen. Fuficius, in fact, was the first to undertake to publish a
book on this subject. Terentius Varro, also, in his work "On the Nine
Sciences" has one book on architecture, and Publius Septimius, two.

15. But to this day nobody else seems to have bent his energies to this
branch of literature, although there have been, even among our
fellow-citizens in old times, great architects who could also have
written with elegance. For instance, in Athens, the architects
Antistates, Callaeschrus, Antimachides, and Pormus laid the foundations
when Peisistratus began the temple of Olympian Jove, but after his death
they abandoned the undertaking, on account of political troubles. Hence
it was that when, about four hundred years later, King Antiochus
promised to pay the expenses of that work, the huge cella, the
surrounding columns in dipteral arrangement, and the architraves and
other ornaments, adjusted according to the laws of symmetry, were nobly
constructed with great skill and supreme knowledge by Cossutius, a
citizen of Rome. Moreover, this work has a name for its grandeur, not
only in general, but also among the select few.

16. There are, in fact, four places possessing temples embellished with
workmanship in marble that causes them to be mentioned in a class by
themselves with the highest renown. To their great excellence and the
wisdom of their conception they owe their place of esteem in the
ceremonial worship of the gods. First there is the temple of Diana at
Ephesus, in the Ionic style, undertaken by Chersiphron of Gnosus and his
son Metagenes, and said to have been finished later by Demetrius, who
was himself a slave of Diana, and by Paeonius the Milesian. At Miletus,
the temple of Apollo, also Ionic in its proportions, was the undertaking
of the same Paeonius and of the Ephesian Daphnis. At Eleusis, the cella
of Ceres and Proserpine, of vast size, was completed to the roof by
Ictinus in the Doric style, but without exterior columns and with plenty
of room for the customary sacrifices.

17. Afterwards, however, when Demetrius of Phalerum was master of
Athens, Philo set up columns in front before the temple, and made it
prostyle. Thus, by adding an entrance hall, he gave the initiates more
room, and imparted the greatest dignity to the building. Finally, in
Athens, the temple of the Olympion with its dimensions on a generous
scale, and built in the Corinthian style and proportions, is said to
have been constructed, as written above, by Cossutius, no commentary by
whom has been found. But Cossutius is not the only man by whom we should
like to have writings on our subject. Another is Gaius Mucius, who,
having great knowledge on which to rely, completed the cella, columns,
and entablature of the Marian temple of Honour and Valour, in
symmetrical proportions according to the accepted rules of the art. If
this building had been of marble, so that besides the refinement of its
art it possessed the dignity coming from magnificence and great outlay,
it would be reckoned among the first and greatest of works.

18. Since it appears, then, that our architects in the old days, and a
good many even in our own times, have been as great as those of the
Greeks, and nevertheless only a few of them have published treatises, I
resolved not to be silent, but to treat the different topics
methodically in different books. Hence, since I have given an account of
private houses in the sixth book, in this, which is the seventh in
order, I shall treat of polished finishings and the methods of giving
them both beauty and durability.




CHAPTER I

FLOORS


1. First I shall begin with the concrete flooring, which is the most
important of the polished finishings, observing that great pains and the
utmost precaution must be taken to ensure its durability. If this
concrete flooring is to be laid level with the ground, let the soil be
tested to see whether it is everywhere solid, and if it is, level it off
and upon it lay the broken stone with its bedding. But if the floor is
either wholly or partly filling, it should be rammed down hard with
great care. In case a wooden framework is used, however, we must see
that no wall which does not reach up to the top of the house is
constructed under the floor. Any wall which is there should preferably
fall short, so as to leave the wooden planking above it an unsupported
span. If a wall comes up solid, the unyielding nature of its solid
structure must, when the joists begin to dry, or to sag and settle, lead
to cracks in the floor on the right and left along the line of wall.

2. We must also be careful that no common oak gets in with the winter
oak boards, for as soon as common oak boards get damp, they warp and
cause cracks in floors. But if there is no winter oak, and necessity
drives, for lack of this it seems advisable to use common oak boards cut
pretty thin; for the less thick they are, the more easily they can be
held in place by being nailed on. Then, at the ends of every joist, nail
on two boards so that they shall not be able to warp and stick up at the
edges. As for Turkey oak or beech or ash, none of them can last to a
great age.

When the wooden planking is finished, cover it with fern, if there is
any, otherwise with straw, to protect the wood from being hurt by the
lime.

3. Then, upon this lay the bedding, composed of stones not smaller than
can fill the hand. After the bedding is laid, mix the broken stone in
the proportions, if it is new, of three parts to one of lime; if it is
old material used again, five parts may answer to two in the mixture.
Next, lay the mixture of broken stone, bring on your gangs, and beat it
again and again with wooden beetles into a solid mass, and let it be not
less than three quarters of a foot in thickness when the beating is
finished. On this lay the nucleus, consisting of pounded tile mixed with
lime in the proportions of three parts to one, and forming a layer not
less than six digits thick. On top of the nucleus, the floor, whether
made of cut slips or of cubes, should be well and truly laid by rule and
level.

4. After it is laid and set at the proper inclination, let it be rubbed
down so that, if it consists of cut slips, the lozenges, or triangles,
or squares, or hexagons may not stick up at different levels, but be all
jointed together on the same plane with one another; if it is laid in
cubes, so that all the edges may be level; for the rubbing down will not
be properly finished unless all the edges are on the same level plane.
The herring-bone pattern, made of Tibur burnt brick, must also be
carefully finished, so as to be without gaps or ridges sticking up, but
all flat and rubbed down to rule. When the rubbing down is completely
finished by means of the smoothing and polishing processes, sift
powdered marble on top, and lay on a coating of lime and sand.

5. In the open air, specially adapted kinds of floors must be made,
because their framework, swelling with dampness, or shrinking from
dryness, or sagging and settling, injures the floors by these changes;
besides, the frost and rime will not let them go unhurt. Hence, if
necessity drives, we must proceed as follows in order to make them as
free from defects as possible. After finishing the plank flooring, lay a
second plank flooring over it at right angles, and nail it down so as to
give double protection to the framework. Then, mix with new broken stone
one third the quantity of pounded tile, and let lime be added to the
mixture in the mortar trough in the proportion of two parts to five.

6. Having made the bedding, lay on this mixture of broken stone, and
let it be not less than a foot thick when the beating is finished. Then,
after laying the nucleus, as above described, construct the floor of
large cubes cut about two digits each way, and let it have an
inclination of two digits for every ten feet. If it is well put together
and properly rubbed down, it will be free from all flaws. In order that
the mortar in the joints may not suffer from frosts, drench it with
oil-dregs every year before winter begins. Thus treated, it will not let
the hoarfrost enter it.

7. If, however, it seems needful to use still greater care, lay two-foot
tiles, jointed together in a bed of mortar, over the broken stone, with
little channels of one finger's breadth cut in the faces of all the
joints. Connect these channels and fill them with a mixture of lime and
oil; then, rub the joints hard and make them compact. Thus, the lime
sticking in the channels will harden and solidify into a mass, and so
prevent water or anything else from penetrating through the joints.
After this layer is finished, spread the nucleus upon it, and work it
down by beating it with rods. Upon this lay the floor, at the
inclination above described, either of large cubes or burnt brick in
herring-bone pattern, and floors thus constructed will not soon be
spoiled.




CHAPTER II

THE SLAKING OF LIME FOR STUCCO


1. Leaving the subject of floors, we must next treat of stucco work.
This will be all right if the best lime, taken in lumps, is slaked a
good while before it is to be used, so that if any lump has not been
burned long enough in the kiln, it will be forced to throw off its heat
during the long course of slaking in the water, and will thus be
thoroughly burned to the same consistency. When it is taken not
thoroughly slaked but fresh, it has little crude bits concealed in it,
and so, when applied, it blisters. When such bits complete their slaking
after they are on the building, they break up and spoil the smooth
polish of the stucco.

2. But when the proper attention has been paid to the slaking, and
greater pains have thus been employed in the preparation for the work,
take a hoe, and apply it to the slaked lime in the mortar bed just as
you hew wood. If it sticks to the hoe in bits, the lime is not yet
tempered; and when the iron is drawn out dry and clean, it will show
that the lime is weak and thirsty; but when the lime is rich and
properly slaked, it will stick to the tool like glue, proving that it is
completely tempered. Then get the scaffolding ready, and proceed to
construct the vaultings in the rooms, unless they are to be decorated
with flat coffered ceilings.




CHAPTER III

VAULTINGS AND STUCCO WORK


1. When vaulting is required, the procedure should be as follows. Set up
horizontal furring strips at intervals of not more than two feet apart,
using preferably cypress, as fir is soon spoiled by decay and by age.
Arrange these strips so as to form a curve, and make them fast to the
joists of the floor above or to the roof, if it is there, by nailing
them with many iron nails to ties fixed at intervals. These ties should
be made of a kind of wood that neither decay nor time nor dampness can
spoil, such as box, juniper, olive, oak, cypress, or any other similar
wood except common oak; for this warps, and causes cracks in work in
which it is used.

2. Having arranged the furring strips, take cord made of Spanish broom,
and tie Greek reeds, previously pounded flat, to them in the required
contour. Immediately above the vaulting spread some mortar made of lime
and sand, to check any drops that may fall from the joists or from the
roof. If a supply of Greek reed is not to be had, gather slender marsh
reeds, and make them up with silk cord into bundles all of the same
thickness and adjusted to the proper length, provided that the bundles
are not more than two feet long between any two knots. Then tie them
with cord to the beams, as above described, and drive wooden pegs into
them. Make all the other preparations as above described.

3. Having thus set the vaultings in their places and interwoven them,
apply the rendering coat to their lower surface; then lay on the sand
mortar, and afterwards polish it off with the powdered marble. After the
vaultings have been polished, set the impost mouldings directly beneath
them. These obviously ought to be made extremely slender and delicate,
for when they are large, their weight carries them down, and they cannot
support themselves. Gypsum should by no means be used in their
composition, but powdered marble should be laid on uniformly, lest
gypsum, by setting too quickly should keep the work from drying
uniformly. We must also beware of the ancients' scheme for vaultings;
for in their mouldings the soffits overhang very heavily, and are
dangerous.

4. Some mouldings are flat, others in relief. In rooms where there has
to be a fire or a good many lights, they should be flat, so that they
can be wiped off more easily. In summer apartments and in exedrae where
there is no smoke nor soot to hurt them, they should be made in relief.
It is always the case that stucco, in the pride of its dazzling white,
gathers smoke not only from its own house but also from others.

5. Having finished the mouldings, apply a very rough rendering coat to
the walls, and afterwards, when the rendering coat gets pretty dry,
spread upon it the layers of sand mortar, exactly adjusted in length to
rule and line, in height to the plummet, and at the angles to the
square. The stucco will thus present a faultless appearance for
paintings. When it gets pretty dry, spread on a second coat and then a
third. The better the foundation of sand mortar that is laid on, the
stronger and more durable in its solidity will be the stucco.

6. When not less than three coats of sand mortar, besides the rendering
coat, have been laid on, then, we must make the mixture for the layers
of powdered marble, the mortar being so tempered that when mixed it does
not stick to the trowel, but the iron comes out freely and clean from
the mortar trough. After this powdered marble has been spread on and
gets dry, lay on a medium second coat. When that has been applied and
well rubbed down, spread on a finer coat. The walls, being thus rendered
solid by three coats of sand mortar and as many of marble, will not
possibly be liable to cracks or to any other defect.

7. And further, such walls, owing to the solid foundation given by
thorough working with polishing instruments, and the smoothness of it,
due to the hard and dazzling white marble, will bring out in brilliant
splendour the colours which are laid on at the same time with the
polishing.

These colours, when they are carefully laid on stucco still wet, do not
fade but are permanent. This is because the lime, having had its
moisture burned out in the kiln, becomes porous and loses its strength,
and its dryness makes it take up anything that may come in contact with
it. On mixing with the seeds or elements that come from other
substances, it forms a solid mass with them and, no matter what the
constituent parts may then be, it must, obviously, on becoming dry,
possess the qualities which are peculiar to its own nature.

8. Hence, stucco that is properly made does not get rough as time goes
on, nor lose its colours when it is wiped off, unless they have been
laid on with little care and after it is dry. So, when the stucco on
walls is made as described above, it will have strength and brilliancy,
and an excellence that will last to a great age. But when only one coat
of sand mortar and one of fine marble have been spread on, its thin
layer is easily cracked from want of strength, and from its lack of
thickness it will not take on the brilliance, due to polishing, which it
ought to have.

9. Just as a silver mirror that is formed of a thin plate reflects
indistinctly and with a feeble light, while one that is substantially
made can take on a very high polish, and reflects a brilliant and
distinct image when one looks therein, so it is with stucco. When the
stuff of which it is formed is thin, it not only cracks but also soon
fades; when, however, it has a solid foundation of sand mortar and of
marble, thickly and compactly applied, it is not only brilliant after
being subjected to repeated polishings, but also reflects from its
surface a clear image of the beholder.

10. The Greek stucco-workers not only employ these methods to make their
works durable, but also construct a mortar trough, mix the lime and sand
in it, bring on a gang of men, and beat the stuff with wooden beetles,
and do not use it until it has been thus vigorously worked. Hence, some
cut slabs out of old walls and use them as panels, and the stucco of
such panels and "reflectors" has projecting bevelled edges all round it.

11. But if stucco has to be made on "wattle and daub," where there must
be cracks at the uprights and cross-sticks, because they must take in
moisture when they are daubed with the mud, and cause cracks in the
stucco when they dry and shrink, the following method will prevent this
from happening. After the whole wall has been smeared with the mud, nail
rows of reeds to it by means of "fly-nails," then spread on the mud a
second time, and, if the first rows have been nailed with the shafts
transverse, nail on a second set with the shafts vertical, and then, as
above described, spread on the sand mortar, the marble, and the whole
mass of stucco. Thus, the double series of reeds with their shafts
crossing on the walls will prevent any chipping or cracking from taking
place.




CHAPTER IV

ON STUCCO WORK IN DAMP PLACES, AND ON THE DECORATION OF DINING ROOMS


1. Having spoken of the method by which stucco work should be done in
dry situations, I shall next explain how the polished finish is to be
accomplished in places that are damp, in such a way that it can last
without defects. First, in apartments which are level with the ground,
apply a rendering coat of mortar, mixed with burnt brick instead of
sand, to a height of about three feet above the floor, and then lay on
the stucco so that those portions of it may not be injured by the
dampness. But if a wall is in a state of dampness all over, construct a
second thin wall a little way from it on the inside, at a distance
suited to circumstances, and in the space between these two walls run a
channel, at a lower level than that of the apartment, with vents to the
open air. Similarly, when the wall is brought up to the top, leave
airholes there. For if the moisture has no means of getting out by vents
at the bottom and at the top, it will not fail to spread all over the
new wall. This done, apply a rendering coat of mortar made with burnt
brick to this wall, spread on the layer of stucco, and polish it.

2. But if there is not room enough for the construction of a wall, make
channels with their vents extending to the open air. Then lay two-foot
tiles resting on the margin of the channel on one side, and on the other
side construct a foundation of pillars for them, made of eight-inch
bricks, on top of each of which the edges of two tiles may be supported,
each pillar being not more than a hand's breadth distant from the wall.
Then, above, set hooked tiles fastened to the wall from bottom to top,
carefully covering the inner sides of them with pitch so that they will
reject moisture. Both at the bottom and at the top above the vaulting
they should have airholes.

3. Then, whitewash them with lime and water so that they will not reject
the rendering coat of burnt brick. For, as they are dry from the loss of
water burnt out in the kiln, they can neither take nor hold the
rendering coat unless lime has been applied beneath it to stick the two
substances together, and make them unite. After spreading the rendering
coat upon this, apply layers of burnt brick mortar instead of sand
mortar, and finish up all the rest in the manner described above for
stucco work.

4. The decorations of the polished surfaces of the walls ought to be
treated with due regard to propriety, so as to be adapted to their
situations, and not out of keeping with differences in kind. In winter
dining rooms, neither paintings on grand subjects nor delicacy of
decoration in the cornice work of the vaultings is a serviceable kind
of design, because they are spoiled by the smoke from the fire and the
constant soot from the lamps. In these rooms there should be panels
above the dadoes, worked in black, and polished, with yellow ochre or
vermilion blocks interposed between them. After the vaulting has been
treated in the flat style, and polished, the Greek method of making
floors for use in winter dining rooms may not be unworthy of one's
notice, as being very inexpensive and yet serviceable.

5. An excavation is made below the level of the dining room to a depth
of about two feet, and, after the ground has been rammed down, the mass
of broken stones or the pounded burnt brick is spread on, at such an
inclination that it can find vents in the drain. Next, having filled in
with charcoal compactly trodden down, a mortar mixed of gravel, lime,
and ashes is spread on to a depth of half a foot. The surface having
been made true to rule and level, and smoothed off with whetstone, gives
the look of a black pavement. Hence, at their dinner parties, whatever
is poured out of the cups, or spirted from the mouth, no sooner falls
than it dries up, and the servants who wait there do not catch cold from
that kind of floor, although they may go barefoot.




CHAPTER V

THE DECADENCE OF FRESCO PAINTING


1. For the other apartments, that is, those intended to be used in
Spring, Autumn, and Summer, as well as for atriums and peristyles, the
ancients required realistic pictures of real things. A picture is, in
fact, a representation of a thing which really exists or which can
exist: for example, a man, a house, a ship, or anything else from whose
definite and actual structure copies resembling it can be taken.
Consequently the ancients who introduced polished finishings began by
representing different kinds of marble slabs in different positions, and
then cornices and blocks of yellow ochre arranged in various ways.

2. Afterwards they made such progress as to represent the forms of
buildings, and of columns, and projecting and overhanging pediments; in
their open rooms, such as exedrae, on account of the size, they depicted
the façades of scenes in the tragic, comic, or satyric style; and their
walks, on account of the great length, they decorated with a variety of
landscapes, copying the characteristics of definite spots. In these
paintings there are harbours, promontories, seashores, rivers,
fountains, straits, fanes, groves, mountains, flocks, shepherds; in some
places there are also pictures designed in the grand style, with figures
of the gods or detailed mythological episodes, or the battles at Troy,
or the wanderings of Ulysses, with landscape backgrounds, and other
subjects reproduced on similar principles from real life.

3. But those subjects which were copied from actual realities are
scorned in these days of bad taste. We now have fresco paintings of
monstrosities, rather than truthful representations of definite things.
For instance, reeds are put in the place of columns, fluted appendages
with curly leaves and volutes, instead of pediments, candelabra
supporting representations of shrines, and on top of their pediments
numerous tender stalks and volutes growing up from the roots and having
human figures senselessly seated upon them; sometimes stalks having only
half-length figures, some with human heads, others with the heads of
animals.

4. Such things do not exist and cannot exist and never have existed.
Hence, it is the new taste that has caused bad judges of poor art to
prevail over true artistic excellence. For how is it possible that a
reed should really support a roof, or a candelabrum a pediment with its
ornaments, or that such a slender, flexible thing as a stalk should
support a figure perched upon it, or that roots and stalks should
produce now flowers and now half-length figures? Yet when people see
these frauds, they find no fault with them but on the contrary are
delighted, and do not care whether any of them can exist or not. Their
understanding is darkened by decadent critical principles, so that it is
not capable of giving its approval authoritatively and on the principle
of propriety to that which really can exist. The fact is that pictures
which are unlike reality ought not to be approved, and even if they are
technically fine, this is no reason why they should offhand be judged to
be correct, if their subject is lacking in the principles of reality
carried out with no violations.

5. For instance, at Tralles, Apaturius of Alabanda designed with skilful
hand the scaena of the little theatre which is there called the [Greek:
ekklêsiastêrion], representing columns in it and statues, Centaurs
supporting the architraves, rotundas with round roofs on them, pediments
with overhanging returns, and cornices ornamented with lions' heads,
which are meant for nothing but the rainwater from the roofs,--and then
on top of it all he made an episcaenium in which were painted rotundas,
porticoes, half-pediments, and all the different kinds of decoration
employed in a roof. The effect of high relief in this scaena was very
attractive to all who beheld it, and they were ready to give their
approval to the work, when Licymnius the mathematician came forward and
said that (6.) the Alabandines were considered bright enough in all
matters of politics, but that on account of one slight defect, the lack
of the sense of propriety, they were believed to be unintelligent. "In
their gymnasium the statues are all pleading causes, in their forum,
throwing the discus, running, or playing ball. This disregard of
propriety in the interchange of statues appropriate to different places
has brought the state as a whole into disrepute. Let us then beware lest
this scaena of Apaturius make Alabandines or Abderites of us. Which of
you can have houses or columns or extensive pediments on top of his
tiled roof? Such things are built above the floors, not above the tiled
roofs. Therefore, if we give our approval to pictures of things which
can have no reason for existence in actual fact, we shall be voluntarily
associating ourselves with those communities which are believed to be
unintelligent on account of just such defects."

7. Apaturius did not venture to make any answer, but removed the
scaena, altered it so that it conformed to reality, and gave
satisfaction with it in its improved state. Would to God that Licymnius
could come to life again and reform the present condition of folly and
mistaken practices in fresco painting! However, it may not be out of
place to explain why this false method prevails over the truth. The fact
is that the artistic excellence which the ancients endeavoured to attain
by working hard and taking pains, is now attempted by the use of colours
and the brave show which they make, and expenditure by the employer
prevents people from missing the artistic refinements that once lent
authority to works.

8. For example, which of the ancients can be found to have used
vermilion otherwise than sparingly, like a drug? But today whole walls
are commonly covered with it everywhere. Then, too, there is malachite
green, purple, and Armenian blue. When these colours are laid on, they
present a brilliant appearance to the eye even although they are
inartistically applied, and as they are costly, they are made exceptions
in contracts, to be furnished by the employer, not by the contractor.

I have now sufficiently explained all that I could suggest for the
avoidance of mistakes in stucco work. Next, I shall speak of the
components as they occur to me, and first I shall treat of marble, since
I spoke of lime at the beginning.




CHAPTER VI

MARBLE FOR USE IN STUCCO


Marble is not produced everywhere of the same kind. In some places the
lumps are found to contain transparent grains like salt, and this kind
when crushed and ground is extremely serviceable in stucco work. In
places where this is not found, the broken bits of marble or "chips," as
they are called, which marble-workers throw down as they work, may be
crushed and ground and used in stucco after being sifted. In still other
places--for example, on the borderland of Magnesia and Ephesus--there
are places where it can be dug out all ready to use, without the need of
grinding or sifting, but as fine as any that is crushed and sifted by
hand.




CHAPTER VII

NATURAL COLOURS


As for colours, some are natural products found in fixed places, and dug
up there, while others are artificial compounds of different substances
treated and mixed in proper proportions so as to be equally serviceable.

1. We shall first set forth the natural colours that are dug up as such,
like yellow ochre, which is termed [Greek: ôchra] in Greek. This is
found in many places, including Italy, but Attic, which was the best, is
not now to be had because in the times when there were slaves in the
Athenian silver mines, they would dig galleries underground in order to
find the silver. Whenever a vein of ochre was found there, they would
follow it up like silver, and so the ancients had a fine supply of it to
use in the polished finishings of their stucco work.

2. Red earths are found in abundance in many places, but the best in
only a few, for instance at Sinope in Pontus, in Egypt, in the Balearic
islands of Spain, as well as in Lemnos, an island the enjoyment of whose
revenues the Senate and Roman people granted to the Athenians.

3. Paraetonium white gets its name from the place where it is dug up.
The same is the case with Melian white, because there is said to be a
mine of it in Melos, one of the islands of the Cyclades.

4. Green chalk is found in numerous places, but the best at Smyrna. The
Greeks call it [Greek: theodoteion], because this kind of chalk was
first found on the estate of a person named Theodotus.

5. Orpiment, which is termed [Greek: arsenikon] in Greek, is dug up in
Pontus. Sandarach, in many places, but the best is mined in Pontus close
by the river Hypanis.




CHAPTER VIII

CINNABAR AND QUICKSILVER


1. I shall now proceed to explain the nature of cinnabar. It is said
that it was first found in the Cilbian country belonging to Ephesus, and
both it and its properties are certainly very strange. First, before
getting to the vermilion itself by methods of treatment, they dig out
what is called the clod, an ore like iron, but rather of a reddish
colour and covered with a red dust. During the digging it sheds, under
the blows of the tools, tear after tear of quicksilver, which is at once
gathered up by the diggers.

2. When these clods have been collected, they are so full of moisture
that they are thrown into an oven in the laboratory to dry, and the
fumes that are sent up from them by the heat of the fire settle down on
the floor of the oven, and are found to be quicksilver. When the clods
are taken out, the drops which remain are so small that they cannot be
gathered up, but they are swept into a vessel of water, and there they
run together and combine into one. Four pints of it, when measured and
weighed, will be found to be one hundred pounds.

3. If the quicksilver is poured into a vessel, and a stone weighing one
hundred pounds is laid upon it, the stone swims on the surface, and
cannot depress the liquid, nor break through, nor separate it. If we
remove the hundred pound weight, and put on a scruple of gold, it will
not swim, but will sink to the bottom of its own accord. Hence, it is
undeniable that the gravity of a substance depends not on the amount of
its weight, but on its nature.

4. Quicksilver is a useful thing for many purposes. For instance,
neither silver nor copper can be gilded properly without it. And when
gold has been woven into a garment, and the garment becomes worn out
with age so that it is no longer respectable to use, the pieces of cloth
are put into earthen pots, and burned up over a fire. The ashes are then
thrown into water and quicksilver added thereto. This attracts all the
bits of gold, and makes them combine with itself. The water is then
poured off, and the rest emptied into a cloth and squeezed in the hands,
whereupon the quicksilver, being a liquid, escapes through the loose
texture of the cloth, but the gold, which has been brought together by
the squeezing, is found inside in a pure state.




CHAPTER IX

CINNABAR (_continued_)


1. I will now return to the preparation of vermilion. When the lumps of
ore are dry, they are crushed in iron mortars, and repeatedly washed and
heated until the impurities are gone, and the colours come. When the
cinnabar has given up its quicksilver, and thus lost the natural virtues
that it previously had, it becomes soft in quality and its powers are
feeble.

2. Hence, though it keeps its colour perfectly when applied in the
polished stucco finish of closed apartments, yet in open apartments,
such as peristyles or exedrae or other places of the sort, where the
bright rays of the sun and moon can penetrate, it is spoiled by contact
with them, loses the strength of its colour, and turns black. Among many
others, the secretary Faberius, who wished to have his house on the
Aventine finished in elegant style, applied vermilion to all the walls
of the peristyle; but after thirty days they turned to an ugly and
mottled colour. He therefore made a contract to have other colours
applied instead of vermilion.

3. But anybody who is more particular, and who wants a polished finish
of vermilion that will keep its proper colour, should, after the wall
has been polished and is dry, apply with a brush Pontic wax melted over
a fire and mixed with a little oil; then after this he should bring the
wax to a sweat by warming it and the wall at close quarters with
charcoal enclosed in an iron vessel; and finally he should smooth it all
off by rubbing it down with a wax candle and clean linen cloths, just
as naked marble statues are treated.

4. This process is termed [Greek: ganôsis] in Greek. The protecting coat
of Pontic wax prevents the light of the moon and the rays of the sun
from licking up and drawing the colour out of such polished finishing.

The manufactories which were once at the mines of the Ephesians have now
been transferred to Rome, because this kind of ore was later discovered
in Spain. The clods are brought from the mines there, and treated in
Rome by public contractors. These manufactories are between the temples
of Flora and Quirinus.

5. Cinnabar is adulterated by mixing lime with it. Hence, one will have
to proceed as follows, if one wishes to prove that it is unadulterated.
Take an iron plate, put the cinnabar upon it, and lay it on the fire
until the plate gets red hot. When the glowing heat makes the colour
change and turn black, remove the plate from the fire, and if the
cinnabar when cooled returns to its former colour, it will be proved to
be unadulterated; but if it keeps the black colour, it will show that it
has been adulterated.

6. I have now said all that I could think of about cinnabar. Malachite
green is brought from Macedonia, and is dug up in the neighbourhood of
copper mines. The names Armenian blue and India ink show in what places
these substances are found.




CHAPTER X

ARTIFICIAL COLOURS. BLACK


1. I shall now pass to those substances which by artificial treatment
are made to change their composition, and to take on the properties of
colours; and first I shall treat of black, the use of which is
indispensable in many works, in order that the fixed technical methods
for the preparation of that compound may be known.

2. A place is built like a Laconicum, and nicely finished in marble,
smoothly polished. In front of it, a small furnace is constructed with
vents into the Laconicum, and with a stokehole that can be very
carefully closed to prevent the flames from escaping and being wasted.
Resin is placed in the furnace. The force of the fire in burning it
compels it to give out soot into the Laconicum through the vents, and
the soot sticks to the walls and the curved vaulting. It is gathered
from them, and some of it is mixed and worked with gum for use as
writing ink, while the rest is mixed with size, and used on walls by
fresco painters.

3. But if these facilities are not at hand, we must meet the exigency as
follows, so that the work may not be hindered by tedious delay. Burn
shavings and splinters of pitch pine, and when they turn to charcoal,
put them out, and pound them in a mortar with size. This will make a
pretty black for fresco painting.

4. Again, if the lees of wine are dried and roasted in an oven, and then
ground up with size and applied to a wall, the result will be a colour
even more delightful than ordinary black; and the better the wine of
which it is made, the better imitation it will give, not only of the
colour of ordinary black, but even of that of India ink.




CHAPTER XI

BLUE. BURNT OCHRE


1. Methods of making blue were first discovered in Alexandria, and
afterwards Vestorius set up the making of it at Puzzuoli. The method of
obtaining it from the substances of which it has been found to consist,
is strange enough. Sand and the flowers of natron are brayed together so
finely that the product is like meal, and copper is grated by means of
coarse files over the mixture, like sawdust, to form a conglomerate.
Then it is made into balls by rolling it in the hands and thus bound
together for drying. The dry balls are put in an earthern jar, and the
jars in an oven. As soon as the copper and the sand grow hot and unite
under the intensity of the fire, they mutually receive each other's
sweat, relinquishing their peculiar qualities, and having lost their
properties through the intensity of the fire, they are reduced to a blue
colour.

2. Burnt ochre, which is very serviceable in stucco work, is made as
follows. A clod of good yellow ochre is heated to a glow on a fire. It
is then quenched in vinegar, and the result is a purple colour.




CHAPTER XII

WHITE LEAD, VERDIGRIS, AND ARTIFICIAL SANDARACH


1. It is now in place to describe the preparation of white lead and of
verdigris, which with us is called "aeruca." In Rhodes they put shavings
in jars, pour vinegar over them, and lay pieces of lead on the shavings;
then they cover the jars with lids to prevent evaporation. After a
definite time they open them, and find that the pieces of lead have
become white lead. In the same way they put in plates of copper and make
verdigris, which is called "aeruca."

2. White lead on being heated in an oven changes its colour on the fire,
and becomes sandarach. This was discovered as the result of an
accidental fire. It is much more serviceable than the natural sandarach
dug up in mines.




CHAPTER XIII

PURPLE


1. I shall now begin to speak of purple, which exceeds all the colours
that have so far been mentioned both in costliness and in the
superiority of its delightful effect. It is obtained from a marine
shellfish, from which is made the purple dye, which is as wonderful to
the careful observer as anything else in nature; for it has not the
same shade in all the places where it is found, but is naturally
qualified by the course of the sun.

2. That which is found in Pontus and Gaul is black, because those
countries are nearest to the north. As one passes on from north to west,
it is found of a bluish shade. Due east and west, what is found is of a
violet shade. That which is obtained in southern countries is naturally
red in quality, and therefore this is found in the island of Rhodes and
in other such countries that are nearest to the course of the sun.

3. After the shellfish have been gathered, they are broken up with iron
tools, the blows of which drive out the purple fluid like a flood of
tears, and then it is prepared by braying it in mortars. It is called
"ostrum" because it is taken from the shells of marine shellfish. On
account of its saltness, it soon dries up unless it has honey poured
over it.




CHAPTER XIV

SUBSTITUTES FOR PURPLE, YELLOW OCHRE, MALACHITE GREEN, AND INDIGO


1. Purple colours are also manufactured by dyeing chalk with madder root
and with hysginum. Other colours are made from flowers. Thus, when
fresco painters wish to imitate Attic yellow ochre, they put dried
violets into a vessel of water, and heat them over a fire; then, when
the mixture is ready, they pour it onto a linen cloth, and squeeze it
out with the hands, catching the water which is now coloured by the
violets, in a mortar. Into this they pour chalk and bray it, obtaining
the colour of Attic yellow ochre.

2. They make a fine purple colour by treating bilberry in the same way
and mixing it with milk. Those who cannot use malachite green on account
of its dearness, dye blue with the plant called dyer's weed, and thus
obtain a most vivid green. This is called dyer's malachite green. Again,
for want of indigo, they dye Selinusian or anularian chalk with woad,
which the Greeks call [Greek: isatis], and make an imitation of indigo.

3. In this book I have written down, so far as I could recall them, the
methods and means of attaining durability in polished finishings, how
pictures that are appropriate should be made, and also the natural
qualities of all the colours. And so, having prescribed in seven books
the suitable principles which should govern the construction of all
kinds of buildings, I shall treat in the next of water, showing how it
may be found in places where it is wanting, by what method it may be
conducted, and by what means its wholesomeness and fitness may be
tested.




BOOK VIII




INTRODUCTION


1. Among the Seven Sages, Thales of Miletus pronounced for water as the
primordial element in all things; Heraclitus, for fire; the priests of
the Magi, for water and fire; Euripides, a pupil of Anaxagoras, and
called by the Athenians "the philosopher of the stage," for air and
earth. Earth, he held, was impregnated by the rains of heaven and, thus
conceiving, brought forth the young of mankind and of all the living
creatures in the world; whatever is sprung from her goes back to her
again when the compelling force of time brings about a dissolution; and
whatever is born of the air returns in the same way to the regions of
the sky; nothing suffers annihilation, but at dissolution there is a
change, and things fall back to the essential element in which they were
before. But Pythagoras, Empedocles, Epicharmus, and other physicists and
philosophers have set forth that the primordial elements are four in
number: air, fire, earth, and water; and that it is from their coherence
to one another under the moulding power of nature that the qualities of
things are produced according to different classes.

2. And, in fact, we see not only that all which comes to birth is
produced by them, but also that nothing can be nourished without their
influence, nor grow, nor be preserved. The body, for example, can have
no life without the flow of the breath to and fro, that is, unless an
abundance of air flows in, causing dilations and contractions in regular
succession. Without the right proportion of heat, the body will lack
vitality, will not be well set up, and will not properly digest strong
food. Again, without the fruits of the earth to nourish the bodily
frame, it will be enfeebled, and so lose its admixture of the earthy
element.

3. Finally, without the influence of moisture, living creatures will be
bloodless and, having the liquid element sucked out of them, will
wither away. Accordingly the divine intelligence has not made what is
really indispensable for man either hard to get or costly, like pearls,
gold, silver, and so forth, the lack of which neither our body nor our
nature feels, but has spread abroad, ready to hand through all the
world, the things without which the life of mortals cannot be
maintained. Thus, to take examples, suppose there is a deficiency of
breath in the body, the air, to which is assigned the function of making
up the deficiency, performs that service. To supply heat, the mighty sun
is ready, and the invention of fire makes life more secure. Then again,
the fruits of the earth, satisfying our desires with a more than
sufficient store of food stuffs, support and maintain living beings with
regular nourishment. Finally, water, not merely supplying drink but
filling an infinite number of practical needs, does us services which
make us grateful because it is gratis.

4. Hence, too, those who are clothed in priesthoods of the Egyptian
orders declare that all things depend upon the power of the liquid
element. So, when the waterpot is brought back to precinct and temple
with water, in accordance with the holy rite, they throw themselves upon
the ground and, raising their hands to heaven, thank the divine
benevolence for its invention.

Therefore, since it is held by physicists and philosophers and priests
that all things depend upon the power of water, I have thought that, as
in the former seven books the rules for buildings have been set forth,
in this I ought to write on the methods of finding water, on those
special merits which are due to the qualities of localities, on the ways
of conducting it, and how it may be tested in advance. For it is the
chief requisite for life, for happiness, and for everyday use.




CHAPTER I

HOW TO FIND WATER


1. This will be easier if there are open springs of running water. But
if there are no springs which gush forth, we must search for them
underground, and conduct them together. The following test should be
applied. Before sunrise, lie down flat in the place where the search is
to be made, and placing the chin on the earth and supporting it there,
take a look out over the country. In this way the sight will not range
higher than it ought, the chin being immovable, but will range over a
definitely limited height on the same level through the country. Then,
dig in places where vapours are seen curling and rising up into the air.
This sign cannot show itself in a dry spot.

2. Searchers for water must also study the nature of different
localities; for those in which it is found are well defined. In clay the
supply is poor, meagre, and at no great depth. It will not have the best
taste. In fine gravel the supply is also poor, but it will be found at a
greater depth. It will be muddy and not sweet. In black earth some
slight drippings and drops are found that gather from the storms of
winter and settle down in compact, hard places. They have the best
taste. Among pebbles the veins found are moderate, and not to be
depended upon. These, too, are extremely sweet. In coarse grained gravel
and carbuncular sand the supply is surer and more lasting, and it has a
good taste. In red tufa it is copious and good, if it does not run down
through the fissures and escape. At the foot of mountains and in lava it
is more plentiful and abundant, and here it is also colder and more
wholesome. In flat countries the springs are salt, heavy-bodied, tepid,
and ill-flavoured, excepting those which run underground from mountains,
and burst forth in the middle of a plain, where, if protected by the
shade of trees, their taste is equal to that of mountain springs.

3. In the kinds of soil described above, signs will be found growing,
such as slender rushes, wild willows, alders, agnus castus trees, reeds,
ivy, and other plants of the same sort that cannot spring up of
themselves without moisture. But they are also accustomed to grow in
depressions which, being lower than the rest of the country, receive
water from the rains and the surrounding fields during the winter, and
keep it for a comparatively long time on account of their holding power.
These must not be trusted, but the search must be made in districts and
soils, yet not in depressions, where those signs are found growing not
from seed, but springing up naturally of themselves.

4. If the indications mentioned appear in such places, the following
test should be applied. Dig out a place not less than three feet square
and five feet deep, and put into it about sunset a bronze or leaden bowl
or basin, whichever is at hand. Smear the inside with oil, lay it upside
down, and cover the top of the excavation with reeds or green boughs,
throwing earth upon them. Next day uncover it, and if there are drops
and drippings in the vessel, the place will contain water.

5. Again, if a vessel made of unbaked clay be put in the hole, and
covered in the same way, it will be wet when uncovered, and already
beginning to go to pieces from dampness, if the place contains water. If
a fleece of wool is placed in the excavation, and water can be wrung out
of it on the following day, it will show that the place has a supply.
Further, if a lamp be trimmed, filled with oil, lighted, and put in that
place and covered up, and if on the next day it is not burnt out, but
still contains some remains of oil and wick, and is itself found to be
damp, it will indicate that the place contains water; for all heat
attracts moisture. Again, if a fire is made in that place, and if the
ground, when thoroughly warmed and burned, sends up a misty vapour from
its surface, the place will contain water.

6. After applying these tests and finding the signs described above, a
well must next be sunk in the place, and if a spring of water is found,
more wells must be dug thereabouts, and all conducted by means of
subterranean channels into one place.

The mountains and districts with a northern exposure are the best spots
in which to search, for the reason that springs are sweeter, more
wholesome, and more abundant when found there. Such places face away
from the sun's course, and the trees are thick in them, and the
mountains, being themselves full of woods, cast shadows of their own,
preventing the rays of the sun from striking uninterruptedly upon the
ground and drying up the moisture.

7. The valleys among the mountains receive the rains most abundantly,
and on account of the thick woods the snow is kept in them longer by the
shade of the trees and mountains. Afterwards, on melting, it filters
through the fissures in the ground, and thus reaches the very foot of
the mountains, from which gushing springs come belching out.

But in flat countries, on the contrary, a good supply cannot be had. For
however great it is, it cannot be wholesome, because, as there is no
shade in the way, the intense force of the sun draws up and carries off
the moisture from the flat plains with its heat, and if any water shows
itself there, the lightest and purest and the delicately wholesome part
of it is summoned away by the air, and dispersed to the skies, while the
heaviest and the hard and unpleasant parts are left in springs that are
in flat places.




CHAPTER II

RAINWATER


1. Rainwater has, therefore, more wholesome qualities, because it is
drawn from the lightest and most delicately pure parts of all the
springs, and then, after being filtered through the agitated air, it is
liquefied by storms and so returns to the earth. And rainfall is not
abundant in the plains, but rather on the mountains or close to
mountains, for the reason that the vapour which is set in motion at
sunrise in the morning, leaves the earth, and drives the air before it
through the heaven in whatever direction it inclines; then, when once in
motion, it has currents of air rushing after it, on account of the void
which it leaves behind.

2. This air, driving the vapour everywhere as it rushes along, produces
gales and constantly increasing currents by its mighty blasts. Wherever
the winds carry the vapour which rolls in masses from springs, rivers,
marshes, and the sea, it is brought together by the heat of the sun,
drawn off, and carried upward in the form of clouds; then these clouds
are supported by the current of air until they come to mountains, where
they are broken up from the shock of the collision and the gales, turn
into water on account of their own fulness and weight, and in that form
are dispersed upon the earth.

3. That vapour, mists, and humidity come forth from the earth, seems due
to the reason that it contains burning heat, mighty currents of air,
intense cold, and a great quantity of water. So, as soon as the earth,
which has cooled off during the night, is struck by the rays of the
rising sun, and the winds begin to blow while it is yet dark, mists
begin to rise upward from damp places. That the air when thoroughly
heated by the sun can make vapours rise rolling up from the earth, may
be seen by means of an example drawn from baths.

4. Of course there can be no springs above the vaultings of hot
bathrooms, but the atmosphere in such rooms, becoming well warmed by the
hot air from the furnaces, seizes upon the water on the floors, and
takes it up to the curved vaultings and holds it up there, for the
reason that hot vapour always pushes upwards. At first it does not let
the moisture go, for the quantity is small; but as soon as it has
collected a considerable amount, it cannot hold it up, on account of the
weight, but sprinkles it upon the heads of the bathers. In the same way,
when the atmospheric air feels the heat of the sun, it draws the
moisture from all about, causes it to rise, and gathers it into clouds.
For the earth gives out moisture under the influence of heat just as a
man's heated body emits sweat.

5. The winds are witnesses to this fact. Those that are produced and
come from the coolest directions, the north and northeast winds, blow in
blasts that are rarefied by the great dryness in the atmosphere, but the
south wind and the others that assail us from the direction of the sun's
course are very damp, and always bring rain, because they reach us from
warm regions after being well heated there, and licking up and carrying
off the moisture from the whole country, they pour it out on the regions
in the north.

6. That this is the state of the case may be proved by the sources of
rivers, the majority and the longest of which, as drawn and described in
geographies of the world, are found to rise in the north. First in
India, the Ganges and Indus spring from the Caucasus; in Syria, the
Tigris and Euphrates; in Pontus in Asia, the Dnieper, Bug, and Don; in
Colchis, the Phasis; in Gaul, the Rhone; in Celtica, the Rhine; on this
side of the Alps, the Timavo and Po; in Italy, the Tiber; in Maurusia,
which we call Mauretania, the Dyris, rising in the Atlas range and
running westerly to Lake Heptagonus, where it changes its name and is
called Agger; then from Lake Heptabolus it runs at the base of barren
mountains, flowing southerly and emptying into the marsh called[10]...
It surrounds Meroë, which is a kingdom in southern Ethiopia, and from
the marsh grounds there, winding round by the rivers Astansoba and
Astoboa and a great many others, it passes through the mountains to the
Cataract, and from there it dashes down, and passes to the north between
Elephantis and Syene and the plains of Thebes into Egypt, where it is
called the Nile.

[Note 10: Here something is lost, as also in chapter III, sections 5
and 6.]

7. That the source of the Nile is in Mauretania is known principally
from the fact that there are other springs on the other side of the
Atlas range flowing into the ocean to the west, and that ichneumons,
crocodiles, and other animals and fishes of like nature are found
there, although there are no hippopotamuses.

8. Therefore, since in descriptions of the world it appears that all
rivers of any size flow from the north, and since in the plains of
Africa, which are exposed to the course of the sun in the south, the
moisture is deeply hidden, springs not common, and rivers rare, it
follows that the sources of springs which lie to the north or northeast
are much better, unless they hit upon a place which is full of sulphur,
alum, or asphalt. In this case they are completely changed, and flow in
springs which have a bad smell and taste, whether the water is hot or
cold.

9. The fact is, heat is not at all a property of water, but when a
stream of cold water happens upon a hot place, it boils up, and issues
through the fissures and out of the ground in a state of heat. This
cannot last very long, but in a short time the water becomes cold. If it
were naturally hot, it would not cool off and lose its heat. Its taste,
however, and its smell and colour are not restored, because it has
become saturated and compounded with these qualities on account of the
rarity of its nature.




CHAPTER III

VARIOUS PROPERTIES OF DIFFERENT WATERS


1. There are, however, some hot springs that supply water of the best
taste, which is so delightful to drink that one does not think with
regret of the Fountain of the Muses or the Marcian aqueduct. These hot
springs are produced naturally, in the following manner. When fire is
kindled down beneath in alum or asphalt or sulphur, it makes the earth
immediately over it very hot, and emits a glowing heat to the parts
still farther above it, so that if there are any springs of sweet water
found in the upper strata, they begin to boil in their fissures when
they are met by this heat, and so they run out with their taste
unimpaired.

2. And there are some cold springs that have a bad smell and taste.
They rise deep down in the lower strata, cross places which are on fire,
and then are cooled by running a long distance through the earth, coming
out above ground with their taste, smell, and colour spoiled; as, for
instance, the river Albula on the road to Tivoli and the cold springs of
Ardea, which have the same smell and are called sulphur springs, and
others in similar places. Although they are cold, yet at first sight
they seem to be hot for the reason that when they happen upon a burning
spot deep down below, the liquid and the fire meet, and with a great
noise at the collision they take in strong currents of air, and thus,
swollen by a quantity of compressed wind, they come out at the springs
in a constant state of ebullition. When such springs are not open but
confined by rocks, the force of the air in them drives them up through
the narrow fissures to the summits of hills.

3. Consequently those who think that they have excavated sources of
springs at the height of such hills find themselves mistaken when they
open up their excavations. Suppose a bronze vase filled not to the very
lips, but containing two thirds of the quantity of water which forms its
capacity, and with a cover placed upon it. When it is subjected to a
very hot fire, the water must become thoroughly heated, and from the
rarity of its nature it greatly expands by taking in the heat, so that
it not only fills the vase but raises its cover by means of the currents
of air in it, and swells and runs over. But if you take the cover off,
the expanding forces are released into the open air, and the water
settles down again to its proper level. So it is with the sources of
springs. As long as they are confined in narrow channels, the currents
of air in the water rush up in bubbles to the top, but as soon as they
are given a wider outlet, they lose their air on account of the rarity
peculiar to water, and so settle down and resume their proper level.

4. Every hot spring has healing properties because it has been boiled
with foreign substances, and thus acquires a new useful quality. For
example, sulphur springs cure pains in the sinews, by warming up and
burning out the corrupt humours of the body by their heat. Aluminous
springs, used in the treatment of the limbs when enfeebled by paralysis
or the stroke of any such malady, introduce warmth through the open
pores, counter-acting the chill by the opposite effect of their heat,
and thus equably restoring the limbs to their former condition.
Asphaltic springs, taken as purges, cure internal maladies.

5. There is also a kind of cold water containing natron, found for
instance at Penne in the Vestine country, at Cutiliae, and at other
similar places. It is taken as a purge and in passing through the bowels
reduces scrofulous tumours. Copious springs are found where there are
mines of gold, silver, iron, copper, lead, and the like, but they are
very harmful. For they contain, like hot springs, sulphur, alum,
asphalt,... and when it passes into the body in the form of drink, and
spreading through the veins reaches the sinews and joints, it expands
and hardens them. Hence the sinews, swelling with this expansion, are
contracted in length and so give men the cramp or the gout, for the
reason that their veins are saturated with very hard, dense, and cold
substances.

6. There is also a sort of water which, since it contains... that are
not perfectly clear, and it floats like a flower on the surface, in
colour like purple glass. This may be seen particularly in Athens, where
there are aqueducts from places and springs of that sort leading to the
city and the port of Piraeus, from which nobody drinks, for the reason
mentioned, but they use them for bathing and so forth, and drink from
wells, thus avoiding their unwholesomeness. At Troezen it cannot be
avoided, because no other kind of water at all is found, except what the
Cibdeli furnish, and so in that city all or most of the people have
diseases of the feet. At the city of Tarsus in Cilicia is a river named
Cydnus, in which gouty people soak their legs and find relief from pain.

7. There are also many other kinds of water which have peculiar
properties; for example, the river Himera in Sicily, which, after
leaving its source, is divided into two branches. One flows in the
direction of Etruria and has an exceedingly sweet taste on account of a
sweet juice in the soil through which it runs; the other runs through a
country where there are salt pits, and so it has a salt taste. At
Paraetonium, and on the road to Ammon, and at Casius in Egypt there are
marshy lakes which are so salt that they have a crust of salt on the
surface. In many other places there are springs and rivers and lakes
which are necessarily rendered salt because they run through salt pits.

8. Others flow through such greasy veins of soil that they are
overspread with oil when they burst out as springs: for example, at
Soli, a town in Cilicia, the river named Liparis, in which swimmers or
bathers get anointed merely by the water. Likewise there is a lake in
Ethiopia which anoints people who swim in it, and one in India which
emits a great quantity of oil when the sky is clear. At Carthage is a
spring that has oil swimming on its surface and smelling like sawdust
from citrus wood, with which oil sheep are anointed. In Zacynthus and
about Dyrrachium and Apollonia are springs which discharge a great
quantity of pitch with their water. In Babylon, a lake of very great
extent, called Lake Asphaltitis, has liquid asphalt swimming on its
surface, with which asphalt and with burnt brick Semiramis built the
wall surrounding Babylon. At Jaffa in Syria and among the Nomads in
Arabia, are lakes of enormous size that yield very large masses of
asphalt, which are carried off by the inhabitants thereabouts.

9. There is nothing marvellous in this, for quarries of hard asphalt are
numerous there. So, when a quantity of water bursts its way through the
asphaltic soil, it carries asphalt out with it, and after passing out of
the ground, the water is separated and so rejects the asphalt from
itself. Again, in Cappadocia on the road from Mazaca to Tyana, there is
an extensive lake into which if a part of a reed or of some other thing
be plunged, and withdrawn the next day, it will be found that the part
thus withdrawn has turned into stone, while the part which remained
above water retains its original nature.

10. In the same way, at Hierapolis in Phrygia there is a multitude of
boiling hot springs from which water is let into ditches surrounding
gardens and vineyards, and this water becomes an incrustation of stone
at the end of a year. Hence, every year they construct banks of earth to
the right and left, let in the water, and thus out of these
incrustations make walls for their fields. This seems due to natural
causes, since there is a juice having a coagulating potency like rennet
underground in those spots and in that country. When this potency
appears above ground mingled with spring water, the mixture cannot but
be hardened by the heat of the sun and air, as appears in salt pits.

11. There are also springs which issue exceedingly bitter, owing to a
bitter juice in the soil, such as the river Hypanis in Pontus. For about
forty miles from its source its taste is very sweet; then it reaches a
point about one hundred and sixty miles from its mouth, where it is
joined by a very small brook. This runs into it, and at once makes that
vast river bitter, for the reason that the water of the brook becomes
bitter by flowing through the kind of soil and the veins in which there
are sandarach mines.

12. These waters are given their different flavours by the properties of
the soil, as is also seen in the case of fruits. If the roots of trees,
vines, or other plants did not produce their fruits by drawing juices
from soil of different properties, the flowers of all would be of the
same kind in all places and districts. But we find in the island of
Lesbos the protropum wine, in Maeonia, the catacecaumenites, in Lydia,
the Tmolian, in Sicily, the Mamertine, in Campania, the Falernian,
between Terracina and Fondi, the Caecuban, and wines of countless
varieties and qualities produced in many other places. This could not be
the case, were it not that the juice of the soil, introduced with its
proper flavours into the roots, feeds the stem, and, mounting along it
to the top, imparts a flavour to the fruit which is peculiar to its
situation and kind.

13. If soils were not different and unlike in their kinds of juices,
Syria and Arabia would not be the only places in which the reeds,
rushes, and all the plants are aromatic, and in which there are trees
bearing frankincense or yielding pepper berries and lumps of myrrh, nor
would assafoetida be found only in the stalks growing in Cyrene, but
everything would be of the same sort, and produced in the soil of all
countries. It is the inclination of the firmament and the force of the
sun, as it draws nearer or recedes in its course, that make these
diversities such as we find them in different countries and places,
through the nature of the soil and it's juices. And not only in the case
of the things mentioned, but also in that of sheep and cattle. These
diversities would not exist if the different properties of soils and
their juices were not qualified by the power of the sun.

14. For instance, there are in Boeotia the rivers Cephisus and Melas, in
Lucania, the Crathis, in Troy, the Xanthus, and certain springs in the
country of the Clazomenians, the Erythraeans, and the Laodiceans. When
sheep are ready for breeding at the proper season of the year, they are
driven every day during that season to those rivers to drink, and the
result is that, however white they may be, they beget in some places
whity-brown lambs, in other places gray, and in others black as a raven.
Thus, the peculiar character of the liquid, entering their body,
produces in each case the quality with which it is imbued. Hence, it is
said that the people of Ilium gave the river Xanthus its name because
reddish cattle and whity-brown sheep are found in the plains of Troy
near that river.

15. Deadly kinds of water are also found, which run through soil
containing a noxious juice, and take in its poisonous quality: for
instance, there is said to have been a spring at Terracina, called the
spring of Neptune, which caused the death of those who thoughtlessly
drank from it. In consequence, it is said that the ancients stopped it
up. At Chrobs in Thrace there is a lake which causes the death not only
of those who drink of it, but also of those who bathe in it. In Thessaly
there is a gushing fount of which sheep never taste, nor does any sort
of creature draw near to it, and close by this fount there is a tree
with crimson flowers.

16. In Macedonia, at the place where Euripides is buried, two streams
approach from the right and left of his tomb, and unite. By one of
these, travellers are in the habit of lying down and taking luncheon,
because its water is good; but nobody goes near the stream on the other
side of the tomb, because its water is said to be death-dealing. In
Arcadia there is a tract of land called Nonacris, which has extremely
cold water trickling from a rock in the mountains. This water is called
"Water of the Styx," and no vessel, whether of silver, bronze, or iron,
can stand it without flying to pieces and breaking up. Nothing but a
mule's hoof can keep it together and hold it, and tradition says that it
was thus conveyed by Antipater through his son Iollas into the province
where Alexander was staying, and that the king was killed by him with
this water.

17. Among the Alps in the kingdom of Cottius there is a water those who
taste of which immediately fall lifeless. In the Faliscan country on the
Via Campana in the Campus Cornetus is a grove in which rises a spring,
and there the bones of birds and of lizards and other reptiles are seen
lying.

Some springs are acid, as at Lyncestus and in Italy in the Velian
country, at Teano in Campania, and in many other places. These when used
as drinks have the power of breaking up stones in the bladder, which
form in the human body.

18. This seems to be due to natural causes, as there is a sharp and acid
juice contained in the soil there, which imparts a sharpness to these
springs as they issue from it; and so, on entering the body, they
disperse all the deposits and concretions, due to the use of other
waters, which they find in the body. Why such things are broken up by
acid waters we can see from the following experiments. If an egg is left
for some time in vinegar, its shell will soften and dissolve. Again, if
a piece of lead, which is very flexible and heavy, is put in a vase and
vinegar poured over it, and the vase covered and sealed up, the lead
will be dissolved and turn into white lead.

19. On the same principle, copper, which is naturally more solid, will
disperse and turn into verdigris if similarly treated. So, also, a
pearl. Even rocks of lava, which neither iron nor fire alone can
dissolve, split into pieces and dissolve when heated with fire and then
sprinkled with vinegar. Hence, since we see these things taking place
before our very eyes, we can infer that on the same principle even
patients with the stone may, in the nature of things, be cured in like
manner by means of acid waters, on account of the sharpness of the
potion.

20. Then there are springs in which wine seems to be mingled, like the
one in Paphlagonia, the water of which intoxicates those who drink of
the spring alone without wine. The Aequians in Italy and the tribe of
the Medulli in the Alps have a kind of water which causes swellings in
the throats of those who drink it.

21. In Arcadia is the well-known town of Clitor, in whose territory is a
cave with running water which makes people who drink of it abstemious.
At this spring, there is an epigram in Greek verses inscribed on stone
to the effect that the water is unsuitable for bathing, and also
injurious to vines, because it was at this spring that Melampus cleansed
the daughters of Proetus of their madness by sacrificial rites, and
restored those maidens to their former sound state of mind. The
inscription runs as written below:

Swain, if by noontide thirst thou art opprest
When with thy flocks to Cleitor's bounds thou'st hied,
Take from this fount a draught, and grant a rest
To all thy goats the water nymphs beside.
But bathe not in't when full of drunken cheer,
Lest the mere vapour may bring thee to bane;
Shun my vine-hating spring--Melampus here
From madness once washed Proetus' daughters sane,
And all th' offscouring here did hide, when they
From Argos came to rugged Arcady.

22. In the island of Zea is a spring of which those who thoughtlessly
drink lose their understanding, and an epigram is cut there to the
effect that a draught from the spring is delightful, but that he who
drinks will become dull as a stone. These are the verses:

This stone sweet streams of cooling drink doth drip,
But stone his wits become who doth it sip.

23. At Susa, the capital of the Persian kingdom, there is a little
spring, those who drink of which lose their teeth. An epigram is written
there, the significance of which is to this effect, that the water is
excellent for bathing, but that taken as drink, it knocks out the teeth
by the roots. The verses of this epigram are, in Greek, as follows:

Stranger, you see the waters of a spring
In which 'tis safe for men their hands to lave;
But if the weedy basin entering
You drink of its unpalatable wave,
Your grinders tumble out that self-same day
From jaws that orphaned sockets will display.

24. There are also in some places springs which have the peculiarity of
giving fine singing voices to the natives, as at Tarsus in Magnesia and
in other countries of that kind. Then there is Zama, an African city,
which King Juba fortified by enclosing it with a double wall, and he
established his royal residence there. Twenty miles from it is the
walled town of Ismuc, the lands belonging to which are marked off by a
marvellous kind of boundary. For although Africa was the mother and
nurse of wild animals, particularly serpents, yet not one is ever born
in the lands of that town, and if ever one is imported and put there, it
dies at once; and not only this, but if soil is taken from this spot to
another place, the same is true there. It is said that this kind of soil
is also found in the Balearic Islands. The above mentioned soil has a
still more wonderful property, of which I have learned in the following
way.

25. Caius Julius, Masinissa's son, who owned all the lands about that
town, served with Caesar the father. He was once my guest. Hence, in our
daily intercourse, we naturally talked of literary subjects. During a
conversation between us on the efficacy of water and its qualities, he
stated that there were springs in that country of a kind which caused
people born there to have fine singing voices, and that consequently
they always sent abroad and bought handsome lads and ripe girls, and
mated them, so that their progeny might have not only fine voices but
also beautiful forms.

26. This great variety in different things is a distribution due to
nature, for even the human body, which consists in part of the earthy,
contains many kinds of juices, such as blood, milk, sweat, urine, and
tears. If all this variation of flavours is found in a small portion of
the earthy, we should not be surprised to find in the great earth itself
countless varieties of juices, through the veins of which the water
runs, and becomes saturated with them before reaching the outlets of
springs. In this way, different varieties of springs of peculiar kinds
are produced, on account of diversity of situation, characteristics of
country, and dissimilar properties of soils.

27. Some of these things I have seen for myself, others I have found
written in Greek books, the authorities for these writings being
Theophrastus, Timaeus, Posidonius, Hegesias, Herodotus, Aristides, and
Metrodorus. These men with much attention and endless pains showed by
their writings that the peculiarities of sites, the properties of
waters, and the characteristics of countries are conditioned by the
inclination of the heaven. Following their investigations, I have set
down in this book what I thought sufficient about different kinds of
water, to make it easier, by means of these directions, for people to
pick out springs from which they can conduct the water in aqueducts for
the use of cities and towns.

28. For it is obvious that nothing in the world is so necessary for use
as water, seeing that any living creature can, if deprived of grain or
fruit or meat or fish, or any one of them, support life by using other
foodstuffs; but without water no animal nor any proper food can be
produced, kept in good condition, or prepared. Consequently we must
take great care and pains in searching for springs and selecting them,
keeping in view the health of mankind.




CHAPTER IV

TESTS OF GOOD WATER


1. Springs should be tested and proved in advance in the following ways.
If they run free and open, inspect and observe the physique of the
people who dwell in the vicinity before beginning to conduct the water,
and if their frames are strong, their complexions fresh, legs sound, and
eyes clear, the springs deserve complete approval. If it is a spring
just dug out, its water is excellent if it can be sprinkled into a
Corinthian vase or into any other sort made of good bronze without
leaving a spot on it. Again, if such water is boiled in a bronze
cauldron, afterwards left for a time, and then poured off without sand
or mud being found at the bottom of the cauldron, that water also will
have proved its excellence.

2. And if green vegetables cook quickly when put into a vessel of such
water and set over a fire, it will be a proof that the water is good and
wholesome. Likewise if the water in the spring is itself limpid and
clear, if there is no growth of moss or reeds where it spreads and
flows, and if its bed is not polluted by filth of any sort but has a
clean appearance, these signs indicate that the water is light and
wholesome in the highest degree.




CHAPTER V

LEVELLING AND LEVELLING INSTRUMENTS


1. I shall now treat of the ways in which water should be conducted to
dwellings and cities. First comes the method of taking the level.
Levelling is done either with dioptrae, or with water levels, or with
the chorobates, but it is done with greater accuracy by means of the
chorobates, because dioptrae and levels are deceptive. The chorobates is
a straightedge about twenty feet long. At the extremities it has legs,
made exactly alike and jointed on perpendicularly to the extremities of
the straightedge, and also crosspieces, fastened by tenons, connecting
the straightedge and the legs. These crosspieces have vertical lines
drawn upon them, and there are plumblines hanging from the straightedge
over each of the lines. When the straightedge is in position, and the
plumblines strike both the lines alike and at the same time, they show
that the instrument stands level.

2. But if the wind interposes, and constant motion prevents any definite
indication by the lines, then have a groove on the upper side, five feet
long, one digit wide, and a digit and a half deep, and pour water into
it. If the water comes up uniformly to the rims of the groove, it will
be known that the instrument is level. When the level is thus found by
means of the chorobates, the amount of fall will also be known.

3. Perhaps some reader of the works of Archimedes will say that there
can be no true levelling by means of water, because he holds that water
has not a level surface, but is of a spherical form, having its centre
at the centre of the earth. Still, whether water is plane or spherical,
it necessarily follows that when the straightedge is level, it will
support the water evenly at its extremities on the right and left, but
that if it slopes down at one end, the water at the higher end will not
reach the rim of the groove in the straightedge. For though the water,
wherever poured in, must have a swelling and curvature in the centre,
yet the extremities on the right and left must be on a level with each
other. A picture of the chorobates will be found drawn at the end of the
book. If there is to be a considerable fall, the conducting of the water
will be comparatively easy. But if the course is broken by depressions,
we must have recourse to substructures.




CHAPTER VI

AQUEDUCTS, WELLS, AND CISTERNS


1. There are three methods of conducting water, in channels through
masonry conduits, or in lead pipes, or in pipes of baked clay. If in
conduits, let the masonry be as solid as possible, and let the bed of
the channel have a gradient of not less than a quarter of an inch for
every hundred feet, and let the masonry structure be arched over, so
that the sun may not strike the water at all. When it has reached the
city, build a reservoir with a distribution tank in three compartments
connected with the reservoir to receive the water, and let the reservoir
have three pipes, one for each of the connecting tanks, so that when the
water runs over from the tanks at the ends, it may run into the one
between them.

2. From this central tank, pipes will be laid to all the basins and
fountains; from the second tank, to baths, so that they may yield an
annual income to the state; and from the third, to private houses, so
that water for public use will not run short; for people will be unable
to divert it if they have only their own supplies from headquarters.
This is the reason why I have made these divisions, and also in order
that individuals who take water into their houses may by their taxes
help to maintain the conducting of the water by the contractors.

3. If, however, there are hills between the city and the source of
supply, subterranean channels must be dug, and brought to a level at the
gradient mentioned above. If the bed is of tufa or other stone, let the
channel be cut in it; but if it is of earth or sand, there must be
vaulted masonry walls for the channel, and the water should thus be
conducted, with shafts built at every two hundred and forty feet.

4. But if the water is to be conducted in lead pipes, first build a
reservoir at the source; then, let the pipes have an interior area
corresponding to the amount of water, and lay these pipes from this
reservoir to the reservoir which is inside the city walls. The pipes
should be cast in lengths of at least ten feet. If they are hundreds,
they should weigh 1200 pounds each length; if eighties, 960 pounds; if
fifties, 600 pounds; forties, 480 pounds; thirties, 360 pounds;
twenties, 240 pounds; fifteens, 180 pounds; tens, 120 pounds; eights,
100 pounds; fives, 60 pounds. The pipes get the names of their sizes
from the width of the plates, taken in digits, before they are rolled
into tubes. Thus, when a pipe is made from a plate fifty digits in
width, it will be called a "fifty," and so on with the rest.

5. The conducting of the water through lead pipes is to be managed as
follows. If there is a regular fall from the source to the city, without
any intervening hills that are high enough to interrupt it, but with
depressions in it, then we must build substructures to bring it up to
the level as in the case of channels and conduits. If the distance round
such depressions is not great, the water may be carried round
circuitously; but if the valleys are extensive, the course will be
directed down their slope. On reaching the bottom, a low substructure is
built so that the level there may continue as long as possible. This
will form the "venter," termed [Greek: Koilia] by the Greeks. Then, on
reaching the hill on the opposite side, the length of the venter makes
the water slow in swelling up to rise to the top of the hill.

6. But if there is no such venter made in the valleys, nor any
substructure built on a level, but merely an elbow, the water will break
out, and burst the joints of the pipes. And in the venter, water
cushions must be constructed to relieve the pressure of the air. Thus,
those who have to conduct water through lead pipes will do it most
successfully on these principles, because its descents, circuits,
venters, and risings can be managed in this way, when the level of the
fall from the sources to the city is once obtained.

7. It is also not ineffectual to build reservoirs at intervals of 24,000
feet, so that if a break occurs anywhere, it will not completely ruin
the whole work, and the place where it has occurred can easily be
found; but such reservoirs should not be built at a descent, nor in the
plane of a venter, nor at risings, nor anywhere in valleys, but only
where there is an unbroken level.

8. But if we wish to spend less money, we must proceed as follows. Clay
pipes with a skin at least two digits thick should be made, but these
pipes should be tongued at one end so that they can fit into and join
one another. Their joints must be coated with quicklime mixed with oil,
and at the angles of the level of the venter a piece of red tufa stone,
with a hole bored through it, must be placed right at the elbow, so that
the last length of pipe used in the descent is jointed into the stone,
and also the first length of the level of the venter; similarly at the
hill on the opposite side the last length of the level of the venter
should stick into the hole in the red tufa, and the first of the rise
should be similarly jointed into it.

9. The level of the pipes being thus adjusted, they will not be sprung
out of place by the force generated at the descent and at the rising.
For a strong current of air is generated in an aqueduct which bursts its
way even through stones unless the water is let in slowly and sparingly
from the source at first, and checked at the elbows or turns by bands,
or by the weight of sand ballast. All the other arrangements should be
made as in the case of lead pipes. And ashes are to be put in beforehand
when the water is let in from the source for the first time, so that if
any of the joints have not been sufficiently coated, they may be coated
with ashes.

10. Clay pipes for conducting water have the following advantages. In
the first place, in construction:--if anything happens to them, anybody
can repair the damage. Secondly, water from clay pipes is much more
wholesome than that which is conducted through lead pipes, because lead
is found to be harmful for the reason that white lead is derived from
it, and this is said to be hurtful to the human system. Hence, if what
is produced from it is harmful, no doubt the thing itself is not
wholesome.

11. This we can exemplify from plumbers, since in them the natural
colour of the body is replaced by a deep pallor. For when lead is
smelted in casting, the fumes from it settle upon their members, and day
after day burn out and take away all the virtues of the blood from their
limbs. Hence, water ought by no means to be conducted in lead pipes, if
we want to have it wholesome. That the taste is better when it comes
from clay pipes may be proved by everyday life, for though our tables
are loaded with silver vessels, yet everybody uses earthenware for the
sake of purity of taste.

12. But if there are no springs from which we can construct aqueducts,
it is necessary to dig wells. Now in the digging of wells we must not
disdain reflection, but must devote much acuteness and skill to the
consideration of the natural principles of things, because the earth
contains many various substances in itself; for like everything else, it
is composed of the four elements. In the first place, it is itself
earthy, and of moisture it contains springs of water, also heat, which
produces sulphur, alum, and asphalt; and finally, it contains great
currents of air, which, coming up in a pregnant state through the porous
fissures to the places where wells are being dug, and finding men
engaged in digging there, stop up the breath of life in their nostrils
by the natural strength of the exhalation. So those who do not quickly
escape from the spot, are killed there.

13. To guard against this, we must proceed as follows. Let down a
lighted lamp, and if it keeps on burning, a man may make the descent
without danger. But if the light is put out by the strength of the
exhalation, then dig air shafts beside the well on the right and left.
Thus the vapours will be carried off by the air shafts as if through
nostrils. When these are finished and we come to the water, then a wall
should be built round the well without stopping up the vein.

14. But if the ground is hard, or if the veins lie too deep, the water
supply must be obtained from roofs or higher ground, and collected in
cisterns of "signinum work." Signinum work is made as follows. In the
first place, procure the cleanest and sharpest sand, break up lava into
bits of not more than a pound in weight, and mix the sand in a mortar
trough with the strongest lime in the proportion of five parts of sand
to two of lime. The trench for the signinum work, down to the level of
the proposed depth of the cistern, should be beaten with wooden beetles
covered with iron.

15. Then after having beaten the walls, let all the earth between them
be cleared out to a level with the very bottom of the walls. Having
evened this off, let the ground be beaten to the proper density. If such
constructions are in two compartments or in three so as to insure
clearing by changing from one to another, they will make the water much
more wholesome and sweeter to use. For it will become more limpid, and
keep its taste without any smell, if the mud has somewhere to settle;
otherwise it will be necessary to clear it by adding salt.

In this book I have put what I could about the merits and varieties of
water, its usefulness, and the ways in which it should be conducted and
tested; in the next I shall write about the subject of dialling and the
principles of timepieces.




BOOK IX




INTRODUCTION


1. The ancestors of the Greeks have appointed such great honours for the
famous athletes who are victorious at the Olympian, Pythian, Isthmian,
and Nemean games, that they are not only greeted with applause as they
stand with palm and crown at the meeting itself, but even on returning
to their several states in the triumph of victory, they ride into their
cities and to their fathers' houses in four-horse chariots, and enjoy
fixed revenues for life at the public expense. When I think of this, I
am amazed that the same honours and even greater are not bestowed upon
those authors whose boundless services are performed for all time and
for all nations. This would have been a practice all the more worth
establishing, because in the case of athletes it is merely their own
bodily frame that is strengthened by their training, whereas in the case
of authors it is the mind, and not only their own but also man's in
general, by the doctrines laid down in their books for the acquiring of
knowledge and the sharpening of the intellect.

2. What does it signify to mankind that Milo of Croton and other victors
of his class were invincible? Nothing, save that in their lifetime they
were famous among their countrymen. But the doctrines of Pythagoras,
Democritus, Plato, and Aristotle, and the daily life of other learned
men, spent in constant industry, yield fresh and rich fruit, not only to
their own countrymen, but also to all nations. And they who from their
tender years are filled with the plenteous learning which this fruit
affords, attain to the highest capacity of knowledge, and can introduce
into their states civilized ways, impartial justice, and laws, things
without which no state can be sound.

3. Since, therefore, these great benefits to individuals and to
communities are due to the wisdom of authors, I think that not only
should palms and crowns be bestowed upon them, but that they should even
be granted triumphs, and judged worthy of being consecrated in the
dwellings of the gods.

Of their many discoveries which have been useful for the development of
human life, I will cite a few examples. On reviewing these, people will
admit that honours ought of necessity to be bestowed upon them.

4. First of all, among the many very useful theorems of Plato, I will
cite one as demonstrated by him. Suppose there is a place or a field in
the form of a square and we are required to double it. This has to be
effected by means of lines correctly drawn, for it will take a kind of
calculation not to be made by means of mere multiplication. The
following is the demonstration. A square place ten feet long and ten
feet wide gives an area of one hundred feet. Now if it is required to
double the square, and to make one of two hundred feet, we must ask how
long will be the side of that square so as to get from this the two
hundred feet corresponding to the doubling of the area. Nobody can find
this by means of arithmetic. For if we take fourteen, multiplication
will give one hundred and ninety-six feet; if fifteen, two hundred and
twenty-five feet.

5. Therefore, since this is inexplicable by arithmetic, let a diagonal
line be drawn from angle to angle of that square of ten feet in length
and width, dividing it into two triangles of equal size, each fifty feet
in area. Taking this diagonal line as the length, describe another
square. Thus we shall have in the larger square four triangles of the
same size and the same number of feet as the two of fifty feet each
which were formed by the diagonal line in the smaller square. In this
way Plato demonstrated the doubling by means of lines, as the figure
appended at the bottom of the page will show.

6. Then again, Pythagoras showed that a right angle can be formed
without the contrivances of the artisan. Thus, the result which
carpenters reach very laboriously, but scarcely to exactness, with their
squares, can be demonstrated to perfection from the reasoning and
methods of his teaching. If we take three rules, one three feet, the
second four feet, and the third five feet in length, and join these
rules together with their tips touching each other so as to make a
triangular figure, they will form a right angle. Now if a square be
described on the length of each one of these rules, the square on the
side of three feet in length will have an area of nine feet; of four
feet, sixteen; of five, twenty-five.

7. Thus the area in number of feet made up of the two squares on the
sides three and four feet in length is equalled by that of the one
square described on the side of five. When Pythagoras discovered this
fact, he had no doubt that the Muses had guided him in the discovery,
and it is said that he very gratefully offered sacrifice to them.

This theorem affords a useful means of measuring many things, and it is
particularly serviceable in the building of staircases in buildings, so
that the steps may be at the proper levels.

8. Suppose the height of the story, from the flooring above to the
ground below, to be divided into three parts. Five of these will give
the right length for the stringers of the stairway. Let four parts, each
equal to one of the three composing the height between the upper story
and the ground, be set off from the perpendicular, and there fix the
lower ends of the stringers. In this manner the steps and the stairway
itself will be properly placed. A figure of this also will be found
appended below.

9. In the case of Archimedes, although he made many wonderful
discoveries of diverse kinds, yet of them all, the following, which I
shall relate, seems to have been the result of a boundless ingenuity.
Hiero, after gaining the royal power in Syracuse, resolved, as a
consequence of his successful exploits, to place in a certain temple a
golden crown which he had vowed to the immortal gods. He contracted for
its making at a fixed price, and weighed out a precise amount of gold to
the contractor. At the appointed time the latter delivered to the king's
satisfaction an exquisitely finished piece of handiwork, and it appeared
that in weight the crown corresponded precisely to what the gold had
weighed.

10. But afterwards a charge was made that gold had been abstracted and
an equivalent weight of silver had been added in the manufacture of the
crown. Hiero, thinking it an outrage that he had been tricked, and yet
not knowing how to detect the theft, requested Archimedes to consider
the matter. The latter, while the case was still on his mind, happened
to go to the bath, and on getting into a tub observed that the more his
body sank into it the more water ran out over the tub. As this pointed
out the way to explain the case in question, without a moment's delay,
and transported with joy, he jumped out of the tub and rushed home
naked, crying with a loud voice that he had found what he was seeking;
for as he ran he shouted repeatedly in Greek, "[Greek: Eurêka, eurêka]."

11. Taking this as the beginning of his discovery, it is said that he
made two masses of the same weight as the crown, one of gold and the
other of silver. After making them, he filled a large vessel with water
to the very brim, and dropped the mass of silver into it. As much water
ran out as was equal in bulk to that of the silver sunk in the vessel.
Then, taking out the mass, he poured back the lost quantity of water,
using a pint measure, until it was level with the brim as it had been
before. Thus he found the weight of silver corresponding to a definite
quantity of water.

12. After this experiment, he likewise dropped the mass of gold into the
full vessel and, on taking it out and measuring as before, found that
not so much water was lost, but a smaller quantity: namely, as much less
as a mass of gold lacks in bulk compared to a mass of silver of the same
weight. Finally, filling the vessel again and dropping the crown itself
into the same quantity of water, he found that more water ran over for
the crown than for the mass of gold of the same weight. Hence, reasoning
from the fact that more water was lost in the case of the crown than in
that of the mass, he detected the mixing of silver with the gold, and
made the theft of the contractor perfectly clear.

13. Now let us turn our thoughts to the researches of Archytas of
Tarentum and Eratosthenes of Cyrene. They made many discoveries from
mathematics which are welcome to men, and so, though they deserve our
thanks for other discoveries, they are particularly worthy of admiration
for their ideas in that field. For example, each in a different way
solved the problem enjoined upon Delos by Apollo in an oracle, the
doubling of the number of cubic feet in his altars; this done, he said,
the inhabitants of the island would be delivered from an offence against
religion.

14. Archytas solved it by his figure of the semi-cylinders;
Eratosthenes, by means of the instrument called the mesolabe.

Noting all these things with the great delight which learning gives, we
cannot but be stirred by these discoveries when we reflect upon the
influence of them one by one. I find also much for admiration in the
books of Democritus on nature, and in his commentary entitled [Greek:
Cheirokmêta], in which he made use of his ring to seal with soft wax the
principles which he had himself put to the test.

15. These, then, were men whose researches are an everlasting
possession, not only for the improvement of character but also for
general utility. The fame of athletes, however, soon declines with their
bodily powers. Neither when they are in the flower of their strength,
nor afterwards with posterity, can they do for human life what is done
by the researches of the learned.

16. But although honours are not bestowed upon authors for excellence of
character and teaching, yet as their minds, naturally looking up to the
higher regions of the air, are raised to the sky on the steps of
history, it must needs be, that not merely their doctrines, but even
their appearance, should be known to posterity through time eternal.
Hence, men whose souls are aroused by the delights of literature cannot
but carry enshrined in their hearts the likeness of the poet Ennius, as
they do those of the gods. Those who are devotedly attached to the poems
of Accius seem to have before them not merely his vigorous language but
even his very figure.

17. So, too, numbers born after our time will feel as if they were
discussing nature face to face with Lucretius, or the art of rhetoric
with Cicero; many of our posterity will confer with Varro on the Latin
language; likewise, there will be numerous scholars who, as they weigh
many points with the wise among the Greeks, will feel as if they were
carrying on private conversations with them. In a word, the opinions of
learned authors, though their bodily forms are absent, gain strength as
time goes on, and, when taking part in councils and discussions, have
greater weight than those of any living men.

18. Such, Caesar, are the authorities on whom I have depended, and
applying their views and opinions I have written the present books, in
the first seven treating of buildings and in the eighth of water. In
this I shall set forth the rules for dialling, showing how they are
found through the shadows cast by the gnomon from the sun's rays in the
firmament, and on what principles these shadows lengthen and shorten.




CHAPTER I

THE ZODIAC AND THE PLANETS


1. It is due to the divine intelligence and is a very great wonder to
all who reflect upon it, that the shadow of a gnomon at the equinox is
of one length in Athens, of another in Alexandria, of another in Rome,
and not the same at Piacenza, or at other places in the world. Hence
drawings for dials are very different from one another, corresponding to
differences of situation. This is because the length of the shadow at
the equinox is used in constructing the figure of the analemma, in
accordance with which the hours are marked to conform to the situation
and the shadow of the gnomon. The analemma is a basis for calculation
deduced from the course of the sun, and found by observation of the
shadow as it increases until the winter solstice. By means of this,
through architectural principles and the employment of the compasses, we
find out the operation of the sun in the universe.

2. The word "universe" means the general assemblage of all nature, and
it also means the heaven that is made up of the constellations and the
courses of the stars. The heaven revolves steadily round earth and sea
on the pivots at the ends of its axis. The architect at these points was
the power of Nature, and she put the pivots there, to be, as it were,
centres, one of them above the earth and sea at the very top of the
firmament and even beyond the stars composing the Great Bear, the other
on the opposite side under the earth in the regions of the south. Round
these pivots (termed in Greek [Greek: poloi]) as centres, like those of
a turning lathe, she formed the circles in which the heaven passes on
its everlasting way. In the midst thereof, the earth and sea naturally
occupy the central point.

3. It follows from this natural arrangement that the central point in
the north is high above the earth, while on the south, the region
below, it is beneath the earth and consequently hidden by it.
Furthermore, across the middle, and obliquely inclined to the south,
there is a broad circular belt composed of the twelve signs, whose
stars, arranged in twelve equivalent divisions, represent each a shape
which nature has depicted. And so with the firmament and the other
constellations, they move round the earth and sea in glittering array,
completing their orbits according to the spherical shape of the heaven.

4. They are all visible or invisible according to fixed times. While six
of the signs are passing along with the heaven above the earth, the
other six are moving under the earth and hidden by its shadow. But there
are always six of them making their way above the earth; for,
corresponding to that part of the last sign which in the course of its
revolution has to sink, pass under the earth, and become concealed, an
equivalent part of the sign opposite to it is obliged by the law of
their common revolution to pass up and, having completed its circuit, to
emerge out of the darkness into the light of the open space on the other
side. This is because the rising and setting of both are subject to one
and the same power and law.

5. While these signs, twelve in number and occupying each one twelfth
part of the firmament, steadily revolve from east to west, the moon,
Mercury, Venus, the sun, as well as Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn, differing
from one another in the magnitude of their orbits as though their
courses were at different points in a flight of steps, pass through
those signs in just the opposite direction, from west to east in the
firmament. The moon makes her circuit of the heaven in twenty-eight days
plus about an hour, and with her return to the sign from which she set
forth, completes a lunar month.

6. The sun takes a full month to move across the space of one sign, that
is, one twelfth of the firmament. Consequently, in twelve months he
traverses the spaces of the twelve signs, and, on returning to the sign
from which he began, completes the period of a full year. Hence, the
circuit made by the moon thirteen times in twelve months, is measured
by the sun only once in the same number of months. But Mercury and
Venus, their paths wreathing around the sun's rays as their centre,
retrograde and delay their movements, and so, from the nature of that
circuit, sometimes wait at stopping-places within the spaces of the
signs.

7. This fact may best be recognized from Venus. When she is following
the sun, she makes her appearance in the sky after his setting, and is
then called the Evening Star, shining most brilliantly. At other times
she precedes him, rising before day-break, and is named the Morning
Star. Thus Mercury and Venus sometimes delay in one sign for a good many
days, and at others advance pretty rapidly into another sign. They do
not spend the same number of days in every sign, but the longer they
have previously delayed, the more rapidly they accomplish their journeys
after passing into the next sign, and thus they complete their appointed
course. Consequently, in spite of their delay in some of the signs, they
nevertheless soon reach the proper place in their orbits after freeing
themselves from their enforced delay.

8. Mercury, on his journey through the heavens, passes through the
spaces of the signs in three hundred and sixty days, and so arrives at
the sign from which he set out on his course at the beginning of his
revolution. His average rate of movement is such that he has about
thirty days in each sign.

9. Venus, on becoming free from the hindrance of the sun's rays, crosses
the space of a sign in thirty days. Though she thus stays less than
forty days in particular signs, she makes good the required amount by
delaying in one sign when she comes to a pause. Therefore she completes
her total revolution in heaven in four hundred and eighty-five days, and
once more enters the sign from which she previously began to move.

10. Mars, after traversing the spaces of the constellations for about
six hundred and eighty-three days, arrives at the point from which he
had before set out at the beginning of his course, and while he passes
through some of the signs more rapidly than others, he makes up the
required number of days whenever he comes to a pause. Jupiter, climbing
with gentler pace against the revolution of the firmament, travels
through each sign in about three hundred and sixty days, and finishes in
eleven years and three hundred and thirteen days, returning to the sign
in which he had been twelve years before. Saturn, traversing the space
of one sign in twenty-nine months plus a few days, is restored after
twenty-nine years and about one hundred and sixty days to that in which
he had been thirty years before. He is, as it appears, slower, because
the nearer he is to the outermost part of the firmament, the greater is
the orbit through which he has to pass.

11. The three that complete their circuits above the sun's course do not
make progress while they are in the triangle which he has entered, but
retrograde and pause until the sun has crossed from that triangle into
another sign. Some hold that this takes place because, as they say, when
the sun is a great distance off, the paths on which these stars wander
are without light on account of that distance, and so the darkness
retards and hinders them. But I do not think that this is so. The
splendour of the sun is clearly to be seen, and manifest without any
kind of obscurity, throughout the whole firmament, so that those very
retrograde movements and pauses of the stars are visible even to us.

12. If then, at this great distance, our human vision can discern that
sight, why, pray, are we to think that the divine splendour of the stars
can be cast into darkness? Rather will the following way of accounting
for it prove to be correct. Heat summons and attracts everything towards
itself; for instance, we see the fruits of the earth growing up high
under the influence of heat, and that spring water is vapourised and
drawn up to the clouds at sunrise. On the same principle, the mighty
influence of the sun, with his rays diverging in the form of a triangle,
attracts the stars which follow him, and, as it were, curbs and
restrains those that precede, not allowing them to make progress, but
obliging them to retrograde towards himself until he passes out into
the sign that belongs to a different triangle.

13. Perhaps the question will be raised, why the sun by his great heat
causes these detentions in the fifth sign from himself rather than in
the second or third, which are nearer. I will therefore set forth what
seems to be the reason. His rays diverge through the firmament in
straight lines as though forming an equilateral triangle, that is, to
the fifth sign from the sun, no more, no less. If his rays were diffused
in circuits spreading all over the firmament, instead of in straight
lines diverging so as to form a triangle, they would burn up all the
nearer objects. This is a fact which the Greek poet Euripides seems to
have remarked; for he says that places at a greater distance from the
sun are in a violent heat, and that those which are nearer he keeps
temperate. Thus in the play of Phaethon, the poet writes: [Greek: kaiei
ta porrô, tangythen d eukrat echei].

14. If then, fact and reason and the evidence of an ancient poet point
to this explanation, I do not see why we should decide otherwise than as
I have written above on this subject.

Jupiter, whose orbit is between those of Mars and Saturn, traverses a
longer course than Mars, and a shorter than Saturn. Likewise with the
rest of these stars: the farther they are from the outermost limits of
the heaven, and the nearer their orbits to the earth, the sooner they
are seen to finish their courses; for those of them that have a smaller
orbit often pass those that are higher, going under them.

15. For example, place seven ants on a wheel such as potters use, having
made seven channels on the wheel about the centre, increasing
successively in circumference; and suppose those ants obliged to make a
circuit in these channels while the wheel is turned in the opposite
direction. In spite of having to move in a direction contrary to that of
the wheel, the ants must necessarily complete their journeys in the
opposite direction, and that ant which is nearest the centre must finish
its circuit sooner, while the ant that is going round at the outer edge
of the disc of the wheel must, on account of the size of its circuit,
be much slower in completing its course, even though it is moving just
as quickly as the other. In the same way, these stars, which struggle on
against the course of the firmament, are accomplishing an orbit on paths
of their own; but, owing to the revolution of the heaven, they are swept
back as it goes round every day.

16. The reason why some of these stars are temperate, others hot, and
others cold, appears to be this: that the flame of every kind of fire
rises to higher places. Consequently, the burning rays of the sun make
the ether above him white hot, in the regions of the course of Mars, and
so the heat of the sun makes him hot. Saturn, on the contrary, being
nearest to the outermost limit of the firmament and bordering on the
quarters of the heaven which are frozen, is excessively cold. Hence,
Jupiter, whose course is between the orbits of these two, appears to
have a moderate and very temperate influence, intermediate between their
cold and heat.

I have now described, as I have received them from my teacher, the belt
of the twelve signs and the seven stars that work and move in the
opposite direction, with the laws and numerical relations under which
they pass from sign to sign, and how they complete their orbits. I shall
next speak of the waxing and waning of the moon, according to the
accounts of my predecessors.




CHAPTER II

THE PHASES OF THE MOON


1. According to the teaching of Berosus, who came from the state, or
rather nation, of the Chaldees, and was the pioneer of Chaldean learning
in Asia, the moon is a ball, one half luminous and the rest of a blue
colour. When, in the course of her orbit, she has passed below the disc
of the sun, she is attracted by his rays and great heat, and turns
thither her luminous side, on account of the sympathy between light and
light. Being thus summoned by the sun's disc and facing upward, her
lower half, as it is not luminous, is invisible on account of its
likeness to the air. When she is perpendicular to the sun's rays, all
her light is confined to her upper surface, and she is then called the
new moon.

2. As she moves on, passing by to the east, the effect of the sun upon
her relaxes, and the outer edge of the luminous side sheds its light
upon the earth in an exceedingly thin line. This is called the second
day of the moon. Day by day she is further relieved and turns, and thus
are numbered the third, fourth, and following days. On the seventh day,
the sun being in the west and the moon in the middle of the firmament
between the east and west, she is half the extent of the firmament
distant from the sun, and therefore half of the luminous side is turned
toward the earth. But when the sun and moon are separated by the entire
extent of the firmament, and the moon is in the east with the sun over
against her in the west, she is completely relieved by her still greater
distance from his rays, and so, on the fourteenth day, she is at the
full, and her entire disc emits its light. On the succeeding days, up to
the end of the month, she wanes daily as she turns in her course, being
recalled by the sun until she comes under his disc and rays, thus
completing the count of the days of the month.

3. But Aristarchus of Samos, a mathematician of great powers, has left a
different explanation in his teaching on this subject, as I shall now
set forth. It is no secret that the moon has no light of her own, but
is, as it were, a mirror, receiving brightness from the influence of the
sun. Of all the seven stars, the moon traverses the shortest orbit, and
her course is nearest to the earth. Hence in every month, on the day
before she gets past the sun, she is under his disc and rays, and is
consequently hidden and invisible. When she is thus in conjunction with
the sun, she is called the new moon. On the next day, reckoned as her
second, she gets past the sun and shows the thin edge of her sphere.
Three days away from the sun, she waxes and grows brighter. Removing
further every day till she reaches the seventh, when her distance from
the sun at his setting is about one half the extent of the firmament,
one half of her is luminous: that is, the half which faces toward the
sun is lighted up by him.

4. On the fourteenth day, being diametrically across the whole extent of
the firmament from the sun, she is at her full and rises when the sun is
setting. For, as she takes her place over against him and distant the
whole extent of the firmament, she thus receives the light from the sun
throughout her entire orb. On the seventeenth day, at sunrise, she is
inclining to the west. On the twenty-second day, after sunrise, the moon
is about mid-heaven; hence, the side exposed to the sun is bright and
the rest dark. Continuing thus her daily course, she passes under the
rays of the sun on about the twenty-eighth day, and so completes the
account of the month.

I will next explain how the sun, passing through a different sign each
month, causes the days and hours to increase and diminish in length.




CHAPTER III

THE COURSE OF THE SUN THROUGH THE TWELVE SIGNS


1. The sun, after entering the sign Aries and passing through one eighth
of it, determines the vernal equinox. On reaching the tail of Taurus and
the constellation of the Pleiades, from which the front half of Taurus
projects, he advances into a space greater than half the firmament,
moving toward the north. From Taurus he enters Gemini at the time of the
rising of the Pleiades, and, getting higher above the earth, he
increases the length of the days. Next, coming from Gemini into Cancer,
which occupies the shortest space in heaven, and after traversing one
eighth of it, he determines the summer solstice. Continuing on, he
reaches the head and breast of Leo, portions which are reckoned as
belonging to Cancer.

2. After leaving the breast of Leo and the boundaries of Cancer, the
sun, traversing the rest of Leo, makes the days shorter, diminishing the
size of his circuit, and returning to the same course that he had in
Gemini. Next, crossing from Leo into Virgo, and advancing as far as the
bosom of her garment, he still further shortens his circuit, making his
course equal to what it was in Taurus. Advancing from Virgo by way of
the bosom of her garment, which forms the first part of Libra, he
determines the autumn equinox at the end of one eighth of Libra. Here
his course is equal to what his circuit was in the sign Aries.

3. When the sun has entered Scorpio, at the time of the setting of the
Pleiades, he begins to make the days shorter as he advances toward the
south. From Scorpio he enters Sagittarius and, on reaching the thighs,
his daily course is still further diminished. From the thighs of
Sagittarius, which are reckoned as part of Capricornus, he reaches the
end of the first eighth of the latter, where his course in heaven is
shortest. Consequently, this season, from the shortness of the day, is
called bruma or dies brumales. Crossing from Capricornus into Aquarius,
he causes the days to increase to the length which they had when he was
in Sagittarius. From Aquarius he enters Pisces at the time when Favonius
begins to blow, and here his course is the same as in Scorpio. In this
way the sun passes round through the signs, lengthening or shortening
the days and hours at definite seasons.

I shall next speak of the other constellations formed by arrangements of
stars, and lying to the right and left of the belt of the signs, in the
southern and northern portions of the firmament.




CHAPTER IV

THE NORTHERN CONSTELLATIONS


1. The Great Bear, called in Greek [Greek: arktos] or [Greek: helikê],
has her Warden behind her. Near him is the Virgin, on whose right
shoulder rests a very bright star which we call Harbinger of the
Vintage, and the Greeks [Greek: protrygêtês]. But Spica in that
constellation is brighter. Opposite there is another star, coloured,
between the knees of the Bear Warden, dedicated there under the name of
Arcturus.

2. Opposite the head of the Bear, at an angle with the feet of the
Twins, is the Charioteer, standing on the tip of the horn of the Bull;
hence, one and the same star is found in the tip of the left horn of the
Bull and in the right foot of the Charioteer. Supported on the hand of
the Charioteer are the Kids, with the She-Goat at his left shoulder.
Above the Bull and the Ram is Perseus, having at his right...[11] with
the Pleiades moving beneath, and at his left the head of the Ram. His
right hand rests on the likeness of Cassiopea, and with his left he
holds the Gorgon's head by its top over the Ram, laying it at the feet
of Andromeda.

[Note 11: From this point to the end of section 3 the text is often
hopelessly corrupt. The translation follows, approximately, the
manuscript reading, but cannot pretend to be exact.]

3. Above Andromeda are the Fishes, one above her belly and the other
above the backbone of the Horse. A very bright star terminates both the
belly of the Horse and the head of Andromeda. Andromeda's right hand
rests above the likeness of Cassiopea, and her left above the Northern
Fish. The Waterman's head is above that of the Horse. The Horse's hoofs
lie close to the Waterman's knees. Cassiopea is set apart in the midst.
High above the He-Goat are the Eagle and the Dolphin, and near them is
the Arrow. Farther on is the Bird, whose right wing grazes the head and
sceptre of Cepheus, with its left resting over Cassiopea. Under the tail
of the Bird lie the feet of the Horse.

4. Above the Archer, Scorpion, and Balance, is the Serpent, reaching to
the Crown with the end of its snout. Next, the Serpent-holder grasps the
Serpent about the middle in his hands, and with his left foot treads
squarely on the foreparts of the Scorpion. A little way from the head of
the Serpent-holder is the head of the so-called Kneeler. Their heads are
the more readily to be distinguished as the stars which compose them are
by no means dim.

5. The foot of the Kneeler rests on the temple of that Serpent which is
entwined between the She-Bears (called Septentriones). The little
Dolphin moves in front of the Horse. Opposite the bill of the Bird is
the Lyre. The Crown is arranged between the shoulders of the Warden and
the Kneeler. In the northern circle are the two She-Bears with their
shoulder-blades confronting and their breasts turned away from one
another. The Greeks call the Lesser Bear [Greek: kynosoura], and the
Greater [Greek: elikê]. Their heads face different ways, and their tails
are shaped so that each is in front of the head of the other Bear; for
the tails of both stick up over them.

6. The Serpent is said to lie stretched out between their tails, and in
it there is a star, called Polus, shining near the head of the Greater
Bear. At the nearest point, the Serpent winds its head round, but is
also flung in a fold round the head of the Lesser Bear, and stretches
out close to her feet. Here it twists back, making another fold, and,
lifting itself up, bends its snout and right temple from the head of the
Lesser Bear round towards the Greater. Above the tail of the Lesser Bear
are the feet of Cepheus, and at this point, at the very top, are stars
forming an equilateral triangle. There are a good many stars common to
the Lesser Bear and to Cepheus.

I have now mentioned the constellations which are arranged in the heaven
to the right of the east, between the belt of the signs and the north. I
shall next describe those that Nature has distributed to the left of the
east and in the southern regions.




CHAPTER V

THE SOUTHERN CONSTELLATIONS


1. First, under the He-Goat lies the Southern Fish, facing towards the
tail of the Whale. The Censer is under the Scorpion's sting. The fore
parts of the Centaur are next to the Balance and the Scorpion, and he
holds in his hands the figure which astronomers call the Beast. Beneath
the Virgin, Lion, and Crab is the twisted girdle formed by the Snake,
extending over a whole line of stars, his snout raised near the Crab,
supporting the Bowl with the middle of his body near the Lion, and
bringing his tail, on which is the Raven, under and near the hand of the
Virgin. The region above his shoulders is equally bright.

2. Beneath the Snake's belly, at the tail, lies the Centaur. Near the
Bowl and the Lion is the ship named Argo. Her bow is invisible, but her
mast and the parts about the helm are in plain sight, the stern of the
vessel joining the Dog at the tip of his tail. The Little Dog follows
the Twins, and is opposite the Snake's head. The Greater Dog follows the
Lesser. Orion lies aslant, under the Bull's hoof; in his left hand
grasping his club, and raising the other toward the Twins.

3. At his feet is the Dog, following a little behind the Hare. The Whale
lies under the Ram and the Fishes, and from his mane there is a slight
sprinkling of stars, called in Greek [Greek: harpedonai], regularly
disposed towards each of the Fishes. This ligature by which they hang is
carried a great way inwards, but reaches out to the top of the mane of
the Whale. The River, formed of stars, flows from a source at the left
foot of Orion. But the Water, said to pour from the Waterman, flows
between the head of the Southern Fish and the tail of the Whale.

4. These constellations, whose outlines and shapes in the heavens were
designed by Nature and the divine intelligence, I have described
according to the view of the natural philosopher Democritus, but only
those whose risings and settings we can observe and see with our own
eyes. Just as the Bears turn round the pivot of the axis without ever
setting or sinking under the earth, there are likewise stars that keep
turning round the southern pivot, which on account of the inclination of
the firmament lies always under the earth, and, being hidden there, they
never rise and emerge above the earth. Consequently, the figures which
they form are unknown to us on account of the interposition of the
earth. The star Canopus proves this. It is unknown to our vicinity; but
we have reports of it from merchants who have been to the most distant
part of Egypt, and to regions bordering on the uttermost boundaries of
the earth.




CHAPTER VI

ASTROLOGY AND WEATHER PROGNOSTICS


1. I have shown how the firmament, and the twelve signs with the
constellations arranged to the north and south of them, fly round the
earth, so that the matter may be clearly understood. For it is from this
revolution of the firmament, from the course of the sun through the
signs in the opposite direction, and from the shadows cast by
equinoctial gnomons, that we find the figure of the analemma.

2. As for the branch of astronomy which concerns the influences of the
twelve signs, the five stars, the sun, and the moon upon human life, we
must leave all this to the calculations of the Chaldeans, to whom
belongs the art of casting nativities, which enables them to declare the
past and the future by means of calculations based on the stars. These
discoveries have been transmitted by the men of genius and great
acuteness who sprang directly from the nation of the Chaldeans; first of
all, by Berosus, who settled in the island state of Cos, and there
opened a school. Afterwards Antipater pursued the subject; then there
was Archinapolus, who also left rules for casting nativities, based not
on the moment of birth but on that of conception.

3. When we come to natural philosophy, however, Thales of Miletus,
Anaxagoras of Clazomenae, Pythagoras of Samos, Xenophanes of Colophon,
and Democritus of Abdera have in various ways investigated and left us
the laws and the working of the laws by which nature governs it. In the
track of their discoveries, Eudoxus, Euctemon, Callippus, Meto,
Philippus, Hipparchus, Aratus, and others discovered the risings and
settings of the constellations, as well as weather prognostications from
astronomy through the study of the calendars, and this study they set
forth and left to posterity. Their learning deserves the admiration of
mankind; for they were so solicitous as even to be able to predict, long
beforehand, with divining mind, the signs of the weather which was to
follow in the future. On this subject, therefore, reference must be made
to their labours and investigations.




CHAPTER VII

THE ANALEMMA AND ITS APPLICATIONS


1. In distinction from the subjects first mentioned, we must ourselves
explain the principles which govern the shortening and lengthening of
the day. When the sun is at the equinoxes, that is, passing through
Aries or Libra, he makes the gnomon cast a shadow equal to eight ninths
of its own length, in the latitude of Rome. In Athens, the shadow is
equal to three fourths of the length of the gnomon; at Rhodes to five
sevenths; at Tarentum, to nine elevenths; at Alexandria, to three
fifths; and so at other places it is found that the shadows of
equinoctial gnomons are naturally different from one another.

2. Hence, wherever a sundial is to be constructed, we must take the
equinoctial shadow of the place. If it is found to be, as in Rome, equal
to eight ninths of the gnomon, let a line be drawn on a plane surface,
and in the middle thereof erect a perpendicular, plumb to the line,
which perpendicular is called the gnomon. Then, from the line in the
plane, let the line of the gnomon be divided off by the compasses into
nine parts, and take the point designating the ninth part as a centre,
to be marked by the letter A. Then, opening the compasses from that
centre to the line in the plane at the point B, describe a circle. This
circle is called the meridian.

3. Then, of the nine parts between the plane and the centre on the
gnomon, take eight, and mark them off on the line in the plane to the
point C. This will be the equinoctial shadow of the gnomon. From that
point, marked by C, let a line be drawn through the centre at the point
A, and this will represent a ray of the sun at the equinox. Then,
extending the compasses from the centre to the line in the plane, mark
off the equidistant points E on the left and I on the right, on the two
sides of the circumference, and let a line be drawn through the centre,
dividing the circle into two equal semicircles. This line is called by
mathematicians the horizon.

[Illustration]

4. Then, take a fifteenth part of the entire circumference, and, placing
the centre of the compasses on the circumference at the point where the
equinoctial ray cuts it at the letter F, mark off the points G and H on
the right and left. Then lines must be drawn from these (and the centre)
to the line of the plane at the points T and R, and thus, one will
represent the ray of the sun in winter, and the other the ray in summer.
Opposite E will be the point I, where the line drawn through the centre
at the point A cuts the circumference; opposite G and H will be the
points L and K; and opposite C, F, and A will be the point N.

5. Then, diameters are to be drawn from G to L and from H to K. The
upper will denote the summer and the lower the winter portion. These
diameters are to be divided equally in the middle at the points M and O,
and those centres marked; then, through these marks and the centre A,
draw a line extending to the two sides of the circumference at the
points P and Q. This will be a line perpendicular to the equinoctial
ray, and it is called in mathematical figures the axis. From these same
centres open the compasses to the ends of the diameters, and describe
semicircles, one of which will be for summer and the other for winter.

6. Then, at the points at which the parallel lines cut the line called
the horizon, the letter S is to be on the right and the letter V on the
left, and from the extremity of the semicircle, at the point G, draw a
line parallel to the axis, extending to the left-hand semicircle at the
point H. This parallel line is called the Logotomus. Then, centre the
compasses at the point where the equinoctial ray cuts that line, at the
letter D, and open them to the point where the summer ray cuts the
circumference at the letter H. From the equinoctial centre, with a
radius extending to the summer ray, describe the circumference of the
circle of the months, which is called Menaeus. Thus we shall have the
figure of the analemma.

7. This having been drawn and completed, the scheme of hours is next to
be drawn on the baseplates from the analemma, according to the winter
lines, or those of summer, or the equinoxes, or the months, and thus
many different kinds of dials may be laid down and drawn by this
ingenious method. But the result of all these shapes and designs is in
one respect the same: namely, the days of the equinoxes and of the
winter and summer solstices are always divided into twelve equal parts.
Omitting details, therefore,--not for fear of the trouble, but lest I
should prove tiresome by writing too much,--I will state by whom the
different classes and designs of dials have been invented. For I cannot
invent new kinds myself at this late day, nor do I think that I ought to
display the inventions of others as my own. Hence, I will mention those
that have come down to us, and by whom they were invented.




CHAPTER VIII

SUNDIALS AND WATER CLOCKS


1. The semicircular form, hollowed out of a square block, and cut under
to correspond to the polar altitude, is said to have been invented by
Berosus the Chaldean; the Scaphe or Hemisphere, by Aristarchus of Samos,
as well as the disc on a plane surface; the Arachne, by the astronomer
Eudoxus or, as some say, by Apollonius; the Plinthium or Lacunar, like
the one placed in the Circus Flaminius, by Scopinas of Syracuse; the
[Greek: pros ta historoumena], by Parmenio; the [Greek: pros pan klima],
by Theodosius and Andreas; the Pelecinum, by Patrocles; the Cone, by
Dionysodorus; the Quiver, by Apollonius. The men whose names are written
above, as well as many others, have invented and left us other kinds:
as, for instance, the Conarachne, the Conical Plinthium, and the
Antiborean. Many have also left us written directions for making dials
of these kinds for travellers, which can be hung up. Whoever wishes to
find their baseplates, can easily do so from the books of these writers,
provided only he understands the figure of the analemma.

2. Methods of making water clocks have been investigated by the same
writers, and first of all by Ctesibius the Alexandrian, who also
discovered the natural pressure of the air and pneumatic principles. It
is worth while for students to know how these discoveries came about.
Ctesibius, born at Alexandria, was the son of a barber. Preëminent for
natural ability and great industry, he is said to have amused himself
with ingenious devices. For example, wishing to hang a mirror in his
father's shop in such a way that, on being lowered and raised again, its
weight should be raised by means of a concealed cord, he employed the
following mechanical contrivance.

3. Under the roof-beam he fixed a wooden channel in which he arranged a
block of pulleys. He carried the cord along the channel to the corner,
where he set up some small piping. Into this a leaden ball, attached to
the cord, was made to descend. As the weight fell into the narrow limits
of the pipe, it naturally compressed the enclosed air, and, as its fall
was rapid, it forced the mass of compressed air through the outlet into
the open air, thus producing a distinct sound by the concussion.

4. Hence, Ctesibius, observing that sounds and tones were produced by
the contact between the free air and that which was forced from the
pipe, made use of this principle in the construction of the first water
organs. He also devised methods of raising water, automatic
contrivances, and amusing things of many kinds, including among them the
construction of water clocks. He began by making an orifice in a piece
of gold, or by perforating a gem, because these substances are not worn
by the action of water, and do not collect dirt so as to get stopped up.

5. A regular flow of water through the orifice raises an inverted bowl,
called by mechanicians the "cork" or "drum." To this are attached a rack
and a revolving drum, both fitted with teeth at regular intervals. These
teeth, acting upon one another, induce a measured revolution and
movement. Other racks and other drums, similarly toothed and subject to
the same motion, give rise by their revolution to various kinds of
motions, by which figures are moved, cones revolve, pebbles or eggs
fall, trumpets sound, and other incidental effects take place.

6. The hours are marked in these clocks on a column or a pilaster, and a
figure emerging from the bottom points to them with a rod throughout the
whole day. Their decrease or increase in length with the different days
and months, must be adjusted by inserting or withdrawing wedges. The
shutoffs for regulating the water are constructed as follows. Two cones
are made, one solid and the other hollow, turned on a lathe so that one
will go into the other and fit it perfectly. A rod is used to loosen or
to bring them together, thus causing the water to flow rapidly or slowly
into the vessels. According to these rules, and by this mechanism, water
clocks may be constructed for use in winter.

7. But if it proves that the shortening or lengthening of the day is
not in agreement with the insertion and removal of the wedges, because
the wedges may very often cause errors, the following arrangement will
have to be made. Let the hours be marked off transversely on the column
from the analemma, and let the lines of the months also be marked upon
the column. Then let the column be made to revolve, in such a way that,
as it turns continuously towards the figure and the rod with which the
emerging figure points to the hours, it may make the hours short or long
according to the respective months.

8. There is also another kind of winter dial, called the Anaphoric and
constructed in the following way. The hours, indicated by bronze rods in
accordance with the figure of the analemma, radiate from a centre on the
face. Circles are described upon it, marking the limits of the months.
Behind these rods there is a drum, on which is drawn and painted the
firmament with the circle of the signs. In drawing the figures of the
twelve celestial signs, one is represented larger and the next smaller,
proceeding from the centre. Into the back of the drum, in the middle, a
revolving axis is inserted, and round that axis is wound a flexible
bronze chain, at one end of which hangs the "cork" which is raised by
the water, and at the other a counterpoise of sand, equal in weight to
the "cork."

9. Hence, the sand sinks as the "cork" is raised by the water, and in
sinking turns the axis, and the axis the drum. The revolution of this
drum causes sometimes a larger and sometimes a smaller portion of the
circle of the signs to indicate, during the revolutions, the proper
length of the hours corresponding to their seasons. For in every one of
the signs there are as many holes as the corresponding month has days,
and a boss, which seems to be holding the representation of the sun on a
dial, designates the spaces for the hours. This, as it is carried from
hole to hole, completes the circuit of a full month.

10. Hence, just as the sun during his passage through the constellations
makes the days and hours longer or shorter, so the boss on a dial,
moving from point to point in a direction contrary to that of the
revolution of the drum in the middle, is carried day by day sometimes
over wider and sometimes over narrower spaces, giving a representation
of the hours and days within the limits of each month.

To manage the water so that it may flow regularly, we must proceed as
follows.

11. Inside, behind the face of the dial, place a reservoir, and let the
water run down into it through a pipe, and let it have a hole at the
bottom. Fastened to it is a bronze drum with an opening through which
the water flows into it from the reservoir. Enclosed in this drum there
is a smaller one, the two being perfectly jointed together by tenon and
socket, in such a way that the smaller drum revolves closely but easily
in the larger, like a stopcock.

12. On the lip of the larger drum there are three hundred and sixty-five
points, marked off at equal intervals. The rim of the smaller one has a
tongue fixed on its circumference, with the tip directed towards those
points; and also in this rim is a small opening, through which water
runs into the drum and keeps the works going. The figures of the
celestial signs being on the lip of the larger drum, and this drum being
motionless, let the sign Cancer be drawn at the top, with Capricornus
perpendicular to it at the bottom, Libra at the spectator's right, Aries
at his left, and let the other signs be given places between them as
they are seen in the heavens.

13. Hence, when the sun is in Capricornus, the tongue on the rim touches
every day one of the points in Capricornus on the lip of the larger
drum, and is perpendicular to the strong pressure of the running water.
So the water is quickly driven through the opening in the rim to the
inside of the vessel, which, receiving it and soon becoming full,
shortens and diminishes the length of the days and hours. But when,
owing to the daily revolution of the smaller drum, its tongue reaches
the points in Aquarius, the opening will no longer be perpendicular, and
the water must give up its vigorous flow and run in a slower stream.
Thus, the less the velocity with which the vessel receives the water,
the more the length of the days is increased.

14. Then the opening in the rim passes from point to point in Aquarius
and Pisces, as though going upstairs, and when it reaches the end of the
first eighth of Aries, the fall of the water is of medium strength,
indicating the equinoctial hours. From Aries the opening passes, with
the revolution of the drum, through Taurus and Gemini to the highest
point at the end of the first eighth of Cancer, and when it reaches that
point, the power diminishes, and hence, with the slower flow, its delay
lengthens the days in the sign Cancer, producing the hours of the summer
solstice. From Cancer it begins to decline, and during its return it
passes through Leo and Virgo to the points at the end of the first
eighth of Libra, gradually shortening and diminishing the length of the
hours, until it comes to the points in Libra, where it makes the hours
equinoctial once more.

15. Finally, the opening comes down more rapidly through Scorpio and
Sagittarius, and on its return from its revolution to the end of the
first eighth of Capricornus, the velocity of the stream renews once more
the short hours of the winter solstice.

The rules and forms of construction employed in designing dials have now
been described as well as I could. It remains to give an account of
machines and their principles. In order to make my treatise on
architecture complete, I will begin to write on this subject in the
following book.




BOOK X




INTRODUCTION


1. In the famous and important Greek city of Ephesus there is said to be
an ancient ancestral law, the terms of which are severe, but its justice
is not inequitable. When an architect accepts the charge of a public
work, he has to promise what the cost of it will be. His estimate is
handed to the magistrate, and his property is pledged as security until
the work is done. When it is finished, if the outlay agrees with his
statement, he is complimented by decrees and marks of honour. If no more
than a fourth has to be added to his estimate, it is furnished by the
treasury and no penalty is inflicted. But when more than one fourth has
to be spent in addition on the work, the money required to finish it is
taken from his property.

2. Would to God that this were also a law of the Roman people, not
merely for public, but also for private buildings. For the ignorant
would no longer run riot with impunity, but men who are well qualified
by an exact scientific training would unquestionably adopt the
profession of architecture. Gentlemen would not be misled into limitless
and prodigal expenditure, even to ejectments from their estates, and the
architects themselves could be forced, by fear of the penalty, to be
more careful in calculating and stating the limit of expense, so that
gentlemen would procure their buildings for that which they had
expected, or by adding only a little more. It is true that men who can
afford to devote four hundred thousand to a work may hold on, if they
have to add another hundred thousand, from the pleasure which the hope
of finishing it gives them; but if they are loaded with a fifty per cent
increase, or with an even greater expense, they lose hope, sacrifice
what they have already spent, and are compelled to leave off, broken in
fortune and in spirit.

3. This fault appears not only in the matter of buildings, but also in
the shows given by magistrates, whether of gladiators in the forum or of
plays on the stage. Here neither delay nor postponement is permissible,
but the necessities of the case require that everything should be ready
at a fixed time,--the seats for the audience, the awning drawn over
them, and whatever, in accordance with the customs of the stage, is
provided by machinery to please the eye of the people. These matters
require careful thought and planning by a well trained intellect; for
none of them can be accomplished without machinery, and without hard
study skilfully applied in various ways.

4. Therefore, since such are our traditions and established practices,
it is obviously fitting that the plans should be worked out carefully,
and with the greatest attention, before the structures are begun.
Consequently, as we have no law or customary practice to compel this,
and as every year both praetors and aediles have to provide machinery
for the festivals, I have thought it not out of place, Emperor, since I
have treated of buildings in the earlier books, to set forth and teach
in this, which forms the final conclusion of my treatise, the principles
which govern machines.




CHAPTER I

MACHINES AND IMPLEMENTS


1. A machine is a combination of timbers fastened together, chiefly
efficacious in moving great weights. Such a machine is set in motion on
scientific principles in circular rounds, which the Greeks call [Greek:
kyklikê kinêois]. There is, however, a class intended for climbing,
termed in Greek [Greek: akrobatikon], another worked by air, which with
them is called [Greek: pneumatikon], and a third for hoisting; this the
Greeks named [Greek: baroulkos]. In the climbing class are machines so
disposed that one can safely climb up high, by means of timbers set up
on end and connected by crossbeams, in order to view operations. In the
pneumatic class, air is forced by pressure to produce sounds and tones
as in an [Greek: organon].

2. In the hoisting class, heavy weights are removed by machines which
raise them up and set them in position. The climbing machine displays no
scientific principle, but merely a spirit of daring. It is held together
by dowels and crossbeams and twisted lashings and supporting props. A
machine that gets its motive power by pneumatic pressure will produce
pretty effects by scientific refinements. But the hoisting machine has
opportunities for usefulness which are greater and full of grandeur, and
it is of the highest efficacy when used with intelligence.

3. Some of these act on the principle of the [Greek: mêchanê], others on
that of the [Greek: organon]. The difference between "machines" and
"engines" is obviously this, that machines need more workmen and greater
power to make them take effect, as for instance ballistae and the beams
of presses. Engines, on the other hand, accomplish their purpose at the
intelligent touch of a single workman, as the scorpio or anisocycli when
they are turned. Therefore engines, as well as machines, are, in
principle, practical necessities, without which nothing can be
unattended with difficulties.

4. All machinery is derived from nature, and is founded on the teaching
and instruction of the revolution of the firmament. Let us but consider
the connected revolutions of the sun, the moon, and the five planets,
without the revolution of which, due to mechanism, we should not have
had the alternation of day and night, nor the ripening of fruits. Thus,
when our ancestors had seen that this was so, they took their models
from nature, and by imitating them were led on by divine facts, until
they perfected the contrivances which are so serviceable in our life.
Some things, with a view to greater convenience, they worked out by
means of machines and their revolutions, others by means of engines, and
so, whatever they found to be useful for investigations, for the arts,
and for established practices, they took care to improve step by step on
scientific principles.

5. Let us take first a necessary invention, such as clothing, and see
how the combination of warp and woof on the loom, which does its work on
the principle of an engine, not only protects the body by covering it,
but also gives it honourable apparel. We should not have had food in
abundance unless yokes and ploughs for oxen, and for all draught
animals, had been invented. If there had been no provision of
windlasses, pressbeams, and levers for presses, we could not have had
the shining oil, nor the fruit of the vine to give us pleasure, and
these things could not be transported on land without the invention of
the mechanism of carts or waggons, nor on the sea without that of ships.

6. The discovery of the method of testing weights by steelyards and
balances saves us from fraud, by introducing honest practices into life.
There are also innumerable ways of employing machinery about which it
seems unnecessary to speak, since they are at hand every day; such as
mills, blacksmiths' bellows, carriages, gigs, turning lathes, and other
things which are habitually used as general conveniences. Hence, we
shall begin by explaining those that rarely come to hand, so that they
may be understood.




CHAPTER II

HOISTING MACHINES


1. First we shall treat of those machines which are of necessity made
ready when temples and public buildings are to be constructed. Two
timbers are provided, strong enough for the weight of the load. They are
fastened together at the upper end by a bolt, then spread apart at the
bottom, and so set up, being kept upright by ropes attached at the upper
ends and fixed at intervals all round. At the top is fastened a block,
which some call a "rechamus." In the block two sheaves are enclosed,
turning on axles. The traction rope is carried over the sheave at the
top, then let fall and passed round a sheave in a block below. Then it
is brought back to a sheave at the bottom of the upper block, and so it
goes down to the lower block, where it is fastened through a hole in
that block. The other end of the rope is brought back and down between
the legs of the machine.

2. Socket-pieces are nailed to the hinder faces of the squared timbers
at the point where they are spread apart, and the ends of the windlass
are inserted into them so that the axles may turn freely. Close to each
end of the windlass are two holes, so adjusted that handspikes can be
fitted into them. To the bottom of the lower block are fastened shears
made of iron, whose prongs are brought to bear upon the stones, which
have holes bored in them. When one end of the rope is fastened to the
windlass, and the latter is turned round by working the handspikes, the
rope winds round the windlass, gets taut, and thus it raises the load to
the proper height and to its place in the work.

3. This kind of machinery, revolving with three sheaves, is called a
trispast. When there are two sheaves turning in the block beneath and
three in the upper, the machine is termed a pentaspast. But if we have
to furnish machines for heavier loads, we must use timbers of greater
length and thickness, providing them with correspondingly large bolts at
the top, and windlasses turning at the bottom. When these are ready,
let forestays be attached and left lying slack in front; let the
backstays be carried over the shoulders of the machine to some distance,
and, if there is nothing to which they can be fastened, sloping piles
should be driven, the ground rammed down all round to fix them firmly,
and the ropes made fast to them.

4. A block should then be attached by a stout cord to the top of the
machine, and from that point a rope should be carried to a pile, and to
a block tied to the pile. Let the rope be put in round the sheave of
this block, and brought back to the block that is fastened at the top of
the machine. Round its sheave the rope should be passed, and then should
go down from the top, and back to the windlass, which is at the bottom
of the machine, and there be fastened. The windlass is now to be turned
by means of the handspikes, and it will raise the machine of itself
without danger. Thus, a machine of the larger kind will be set in
position, with its ropes in their places about it, and its stays
attached to the piles. Its blocks and traction ropes are arranged as
described above.

5. But if the loads of material for the work are still more colossal in
size and weight, we shall not entrust them to a windlass, but set in an
axle-tree, held by sockets as the windlass was, and carrying on its
centre a large drum, which some term a wheel, but the Greeks call it
[Greek: amphiesis] or [Greek: perithêkion].

6. And the blocks in such machines are not arranged in the same, but in
a different manner; for the rows of sheaves in them are doubled, both at
the bottom and at the top. The traction rope is passed through a hole in
the lower block, in such a way that the two ends of the rope are of
equal length when it is stretched out, and both portions are held there
at the lower block by a cord which is passed round them and lashed so
that they cannot come out either to the right or the left. Then the ends
of the rope are brought up into the block at the top from the outside,
and passed down over its lower sheaves, and so return to the bottom, and
are passed from the inside to the sheaves in the lowest block, and then
are brought up on the right and left, and return to the top and round
the highest set of sheaves.

7. Passing over these from the outside, they are then carried to the
right and left of the drum on the axle-tree, and are tied there so as to
stay fast. Then another rope is wound round the drum and carried to a
capstan, and when that is turned, it turns the drum and the axle-tree,
the ropes get taut as they wind round regularly, and thus they raise the
loads smoothly and with no danger. But if a larger drum is placed either
in the middle or at one side, without any capstan, men can tread in it
and accomplish the work more expeditiously.

8. There is also another kind of machine, ingenious enough and easy to
use with speed, but only experts can work with it. It consists of a
single timber, which is set up and held in place by stays on four sides.
Two cheeks are nailed on below the stays, a block is fastened by ropes
above the cheeks, and a straight piece of wood about two feet long, six
digits wide, and four digits thick, is put under the block. The blocks
used have each three rows of sheaves side by side. Hence three traction
ropes are fastened at the top of the machine. Then they are brought to
the block at the bottom, and passed from the inside round the sheaves
that are nearest the top of it. Then they are brought back to the upper
block, and passed inwards from outside round the sheaves nearest the
bottom.

9. On coming down to the block at the bottom, they are carried round its
second row of sheaves from the inside to the outside, and brought back
to the second row at the top, passing round it and returning to the
bottom; then from the bottom they are carried to the summit, where they
pass round the highest row of sheaves, and then return to the bottom of
the machine. At the foot of the machine a third block is attached. The
Greeks call it [Greek: epagôn], but our people "artemon." This block
fastened at the foot of the machine has three sheaves in it, round which
the ropes are passed and then delivered to men to pull. Thus, three rows
of men, pulling without a capstan, can quickly raise the load to the
top.

10. This kind of machine is called a polyspast, because of the many
revolving sheaves to which its dexterity and despatch are due. There is
also this advantage in the erection of only a single timber, that by
previously inclining it to the right or left as much as one wishes, the
load can be set down at one side.

All these kinds of machinery described above are, in their principles,
suited not only to the purposes mentioned, but also to the loading and
unloading of ships, some kinds being set upright, and others placed
horizontally on revolving platforms. On the same principle, ships can be
hauled ashore by means of arrangements of ropes and blocks used on the
ground, without setting up timbers.

11. It may also not be out of place to explain the ingenious procedure
of Chersiphron. Desiring to convey the shafts for the temple of Diana at
Ephesus from the stone quarries, and not trusting to carts, lest their
wheels should be engulfed on account of the great weights of the load
and the softness of the roads in the plain, he tried the following plan.
Using four-inch timbers, he joined two of them, each as long as the
shaft, with two crosspieces set between them, dovetailing all together,
and then leaded iron gudgeons shaped like dovetails into the ends of the
shafts, as dowels are leaded, and in the woodwork he fixed rings to
contain the pivots, and fastened wooden cheeks to the ends. The pivots,
being enclosed in the rings, turned freely. So, when yokes of oxen began
to draw the four-inch frame, they made the shaft revolve constantly,
turning it by means of the pivots and rings.

12. When they had thus transported all the shafts, and it became
necessary to transport the architraves, Chersiphron's son Metagenes
extended the same principle from the transportation of the shafts to the
bringing down of the architraves. He made wheels, each about twelve feet
in diameter, and enclosed the ends of the architraves in the wheels. In
the ends he fixed pivots and rings in the same way. So when the
four-inch frames were drawn by oxen, the wheels turned on the pivots
enclosed in the rings, and the architraves, which were enclosed like
axles in the wheels, soon reached the building, in the same way as the
shafts. The rollers used for smoothing the walks in palaestrae will
serve as an example of this method. But it could not have been employed
unless the distance had been short; for it is not more than eight miles
from the stone-quarries to the temple, and there is no hill, but an
uninterrupted plain.

13. In our own times, however, when the pedestal of the colossal Apollo
in his temple had cracked with age, they were afraid that the statue
would fall and be broken, and so they contracted for the cutting of a
pedestal from the same quarries. The contract was taken by one Paconius.
This pedestal was twelve feet long, eight feet wide, and six feet high.
Paconius, with confident pride, did not transport it by the method of
Metagenes, but determined to make a machine of a different sort, though
on the same principle.

14. He made wheels of about fifteen feet in diameter, and in these
wheels he enclosed the ends of the stone; then he fastened two-inch
crossbars from wheel to wheel round the stone, encompassing it, so that
there was an interval of not more than one foot between bar and bar.
Then he coiled a rope round the bars, yoked up his oxen, and began to
draw on the rope. Consequently as it uncoiled, it did indeed cause the
wheels to turn, but it could not draw them in a line straight along the
road, but kept swerving out to one side. Hence it was necessary to draw
the machine back again. Thus, by this drawing to and fro, Paconius got
into such financial embarrassment that he became insolvent.

15. I will digress a bit and explain how these stone-quarries were
discovered. Pixodorus was a shepherd who lived in that vicinity. When
the people of Ephesus were planning to build the temple of Diana in
marble, and debating whether to get the marble from Paros, Proconnesus,
Heraclea, or Thasos, Pixodorus drove out his sheep and was feeding his
flock in that very spot. Then two rams ran at each other, and, each
passing the other, one of them, after his charge, struck his horns
against a rock, from which a fragment of extremely white colour was
dislodged. So it is said that Pixodorus left his sheep in the mountains
and ran down to Ephesus carrying the fragment, since that very thing was
the question of the moment. Therefore they immediately decreed honours
to him and changed his name, so that instead of Pixodorus he should be
called Evangelus. And to this day the chief magistrate goes out to that
very spot every month and offers sacrifice to him, and if he does not,
he is punished.




CHAPTER III

THE ELEMENTS OF MOTION


1. I have briefly set forth what I thought necessary about the
principles of hoisting machines. In them two different things, unlike
each other, work together, as elements of their motion and power, to
produce these effects. One of them is the right line, which the Greeks
term [Greek: eutheia]; the other is the circle, which the Greeks call
[Greek: kyklôtê]; but in point of fact, neither rectilinear without
circular motion, nor revolutions, without rectilinear motion, can
accomplish the raising of loads. I will explain this, so that it may be
understood.

2. As centres, axles are inserted into the sheaves, and these are
fastened in the blocks; a rope carried over the sheaves, drawn straight
down, and fastened to a windlass, causes the load to move upward from
its place as the handspikes are turned. The pivots of this windlass,
lying as centres in right lines in its socket-pieces, and the handspikes
inserted in its holes, make the load rise when the ends of the windlass
revolve in a circle like a lathe. Just so, when an iron lever is applied
to a weight which a great many hands cannot move, with the fulcrum,
which the Greeks call [Greek: hupomochlion], lying as a centre in a
right line under the lever, and with the tongue of the lever placed
under the weight, one man's strength, bearing down upon the head of it,
heaves up the weight.

3. For, as the shorter fore part of the lever goes under the weight from
the fulcrum that forms the centre, the head of it, which is farther away
from that centre, on being depressed, is made to describe a circular
movement, and thus by pressure brings to an equilibrium the weight of a
very great load by means of a few hands. Again, if the tongue of an iron
lever is placed under a weight, and its head is not pushed down, but, on
the contrary, is heaved up, the tongue, supported on the surface of the
ground, will treat that as the weight, and the edge of the weight itself
as the fulcrum. Thus, not so easily as by pushing down, but by motion in
the opposite direction, the weight of the load will nevertheless be
raised. If, therefore, the tongue of a lever lying on a fulcrum goes too
far under the weight, and its head exerts its pressure too near the
centre, it will not be able to elevate the weight, nor can it do so
unless, as described above, the length of the lever is brought to
equilibrium by the depression of its head.

4. This may be seen from the balances that we call steelyards. When the
handle is set as a centre close to the end from which the scale hangs,
and the counterpoise is moved along towards the other arm of the beam,
shifting from point to point as it goes farther or even reaches the
extremity, a small and inferior weight becomes equal to a very heavy
object that is being weighed, on account of the equilibrium that is due
to the levelling of the beam. Thus, as it withdraws from the centre, a
small and comparatively light counterpoise, slowly turning the scale,
makes a greater amount of weight rise gently upwards from below.

5. So, too, the pilot of the biggest merchantman, grasping the steering
oar by its handle, which the Greeks call [Greek: oiax], and with one
hand bringing it to the turning point, according to the rules of his
art, by pressure about a centre, can turn the ship, although she may be
laden with a very large or even enormous burden of merchandise and
provisions. And when her sails are set only halfway up the mast, a ship
cannot run quickly; but when the yard is hoisted to the top, she makes
much quicker progress, because then the sails get the wind, not when
they are too close to the heel of the mast, which represents the
centre, but when they have moved farther away from it to the top.

6. As a lever thrust under a weight is harder to manage, and does not
put forth its strength, if the pressure is exerted at the centre, but
easily raises the weight when the extreme end of it is pushed down, so
sails that are only halfway up have less effect, but when they get
farther away from the centre, and are hoisted to the very top of the
mast, the pressure at the top forces the ship to make greater progress,
though the wind is no stronger but just the same. Again, take the case
of oars, which are fastened to the tholes by loops,--when they are
pushed forward and drawn back by the hand, if the ends of the blades are
at some distance from the centre, the oars foam with the waves of the
sea and drive the ship forward in a straight line with a mighty impulse,
while her prow cuts through the rare water.

7. And when the heaviest burdens are carried on poles by four or six
porters at a time, they find the centres of balance at the very middle
of the poles, so that, by distributing the dead weight of the burden
according to a definitely proportioned division, each labourer may have
an equal share to carry on his neck. For the poles, from which the
straps for the burden of the four porters hang, are marked off at their
centres by nails, to prevent the straps from slipping to one side. If
they shift beyond the mark at the centre, they weigh heavily upon the
place to which they have come nearer, like the weight of a steelyard
when it moves from the point of equilibrium towards the end of the
weighing apparatus.

8. In the same way, oxen have an equal draught when their yoke is
adjusted at its middle by the yokestrap to the pole. But when their
strength is not the same, and the stronger outdoes the other, the strap
is shifted so as to make one side of the yoke longer, which helps the
weaker ox. Thus, in the case of both poles and yokes, when the straps
are not fastened at the middle, but at one side, the farther the strap
moves from the middle, the shorter it makes one side, and the longer the
other. So, if both ends are carried round in circles, using as a centre
the point to which the strap has been brought, the longer end will
describe a larger, and the shorter end a smaller circle.

9. Just as smaller wheels move harder and with greater difficulty than
larger ones, so, in the case of the poles and yokes, the parts where the
interval from centre to end is less, bear down hard upon the neck, but
where the distance from the same centre is greater, they ease the burden
both for draught and carriage. As in all these cases motion is obtained
by means of right lines at the centre and by circles, so also farm
waggons, travelling carriages, drums, mills, screws, scorpiones,
ballistae, pressbeams, and all other machines, produce the results
intended, on the same principles, by turning about a rectilinear axis
and by the revolution of a circle.




CHAPTER IV

ENGINES FOR RAISING WATER


1. I shall now explain the making of the different kinds of engines
which have been invented for raising water, and will first speak of the
tympanum. Although it does not lift the water high, it raises a great
quantity very quickly. An axle is fashioned on a lathe or with the
compasses, its ends are shod with iron hoops, and it carries round its
middle a tympanum made of boards joined together. It rests on posts
which have pieces of iron on them under the ends of the axle. In the
interior of this tympanum there are eight crosspieces set at intervals,
extending from the axle to the circumference of the tympanum, and
dividing the space in the tympanum into equal compartments.

2. Planks are nailed round the face of it, leaving six-inch apertures to
admit the water. At one side of it there are also holes, like those of a
dovecot, next to the axle, one for each compartment. After being smeared
with pitch like a ship, the thing is turned by the tread of men, and
raising the water by means of the apertures in the face of the tympanum,
delivers it through the holes next to the axle into a wooden trough set
underneath, with a conduit joined to it. Thus, a large quantity of water
is furnished for irrigation in gardens, or for supplying the needs of
saltworks.

3. But when it has to be raised higher, the same principle will be
modified as follows. A wheel on an axle is to be made, large enough to
reach the necessary height. All round the circumference of the wheel
there will be cubical boxes, made tight with pitch and wax. So, when the
wheel is turned by treading, the boxes, carried up full and again
returning to the bottom, will of themselves discharge into the reservoir
what they have carried up.

4. But, if it has to be supplied to a place still more high, a double
iron chain, which will reach the surface when let down, is passed round
the axle of the same wheel, with bronze buckets attached to it, each
holding about six pints. The turning of the wheel, winding the chain
round the axle, will carry the buckets to the top, and as they pass
above the axle they must tip over and deliver into the reservoir what
they have carried up.




CHAPTER V

WATER WHEELS AND WATER MILLS


1. Wheels on the principles that have been described above are also
constructed in rivers. Round their faces floatboards are fixed, which,
on being struck by the current of the river, make the wheel turn as they
move, and thus, by raising the water in the boxes and bringing it to the
top, they accomplish the necessary work through being turned by the mere
impulse of the river, without any treading on the part of workmen.

2. Water mills are turned on the same principle. Everything is the same
in them, except that a drum with teeth is fixed into one end of the
axle. It is set vertically on its edge, and turns in the same plane with
the wheel. Next to this larger drum there is a smaller one, also with
teeth, but set horizontally, and this is attached (to the millstone).
Thus the teeth of the drum which is fixed to the axle make the teeth of
the horizontal drum move, and cause the mill to turn. A hopper, hanging
over this contrivance, supplies the mill with corn, and meal is produced
by the same revolution.




CHAPTER VI

THE WATER SCREW


1. There is also the method of the screw, which raises a great quantity
of water, but does not carry it as high as does the wheel. The method of
constructing it is as follows. A beam is selected, the thickness of
which in digits is equivalent to its length in feet. This is made
perfectly round. The ends are to be divided off on their circumference
with the compass into eight parts, by quadrants and octants, and let the
lines be so placed that, if the beam is laid in a horizontal position,
the lines on the two ends may perfectly correspond with each other, and
intervals of the size of one eighth part of the circumference of the
beam may be laid off on the length of it. Then, placing the beam in a
horizontal position, let perfectly straight lines be drawn from one end
to the other. So the intervals will be equal in the directions both of
the periphery and of the length. Where the lines are drawn along the
length, the cutting circles will make intersections, and definite points
at the intersections.

[Illustration: CONSTRUCTION OF THE WATER SCREW]

[Illustration: THE WATER SCREW

(From the edition of Vitruvius by Fra Giocondo, Ven