HENRY HOBSON RICHARDSON

his BIOGRAPHY

Henry Hobson Richardson was born at the Priestly Plantation in Louisiana on September 29, 1838. During his brief but productive career of 21 years Henry Hobson Richardson had perfected building solutions and design formulas for a wide range of building types, many of which were new to his age: smalltown and large-scale libraries, campus buildings, train stations, cathedrals, courthouses, city halls, state capitals, the commercial block, and the suburban home.

As a gauge to the important role Henry Hobson Richardson attained in his day, the Amercian Architect and Building News in 1885 polled its readers for, "the ten buildings which the subscriber believes to be the most successful examples of architectural design in the country." Of the top 10 choices, half were by Henry Hobson Richardson. Trinity Church, Boston (1872-1877) was voted first (nominated by 84% of the voters). Also on the list were these works by Henry Hobson Richardson: Albany City Hall, Albany, N.Y. (1880-82); Sever Hall, Harvard University (1880-1882); New York State Capital (1867-1898); Town Hall, North Easton, Mass. (1879-1881). At the time of his death in April 1886 at the age of 47, Henry Hobson Richardson was at the peak of his career, and the architecture that Henry Hobson Richardson had raised to a national style and that bore his name-Richardsonian Romanesque-could not be ignored by aspiring young architects who hoped to fall heir to his architectural dynasty. However, as evidenced by the assortment of buildings selected as Richardson 's best, there was no consistent agreement as to what constituted the basis for his achievements even by his peers. Much, then, that would be mimicked in Richardson 's work did not strike at the heart of his style.

Today, the term Richardsonian Romanesque is perhaps one of the most generalized stylistic categories in architecture; its vagueness allows one to apply the term to nearly any structure from the mid-1870s to the turn of the century that used rock-faced granite ashlar, one or more apparent arches, or a host of architectural features that one associates automatically with the master, namely, eyebrow windows, octagonal library rooms, short stubby columns, or the so-called "Loire dormers." Oddly, the term maintained as much latitude at the end of the nineteenth century as it does today, and an architect who mimicked all or any of these typologic elements could legitimize his end product by referring to it as Richardsonian. But these disparate parts in themselves do not begin to constitute the essence of Richardson 's style; they are simply part of the design vocabulary that accompanies a more vital grammar. Instead, these design elements are synthesized into a powerful language that emerges from a very conscious and consistent design process that most Richardsonians failed to perceive.

Through a study of the various schemes for buildings, which are recorded on the numerous sketches by Henry Hobson Richardson (mainly in the possession of Harvard's Houghton Library), certain observations can be made. One notices, for example, the tendency to rely on imposing rooflines (which after 1875 are usually unbroken along the ridge) as an organizing element and as a means of achieving repose. The roofline, by providing a strong visible statement, lends unity to the design as a whole as opposed to the nervous profiles of Queen Anne and Victorian Gothic forms; this is found to be true even in his Watts-Shennan house of 1874, where there is a piling up of rooflines. The front gable in this structure, nevertheless, rules supreme in the hierarchical arrangement of forms and establishes a focal point. By stretching the roof outline nearly two stories down to the masonry construction of the first floor, it visually unites the home with the earth and reinforces the human scale of the structure. This covering" quality of the roof is especially apparent in Richardson 's designs for the North Easton and Chestnut Hill railroad stations. In these examples, the roof fully embraces (and nearly smothers) the structure below as it overtly expresses its function to shield passengers and carriages from the elements. 

Glessner house

The roof, then, lends monumentality as well as unity (compositional, spatial, and textural) by its forceful presence and at the same time becomes a symbol of home or shelter. This play of monumentality and domesticity can be merged (as in the Watts-Sherman house) or manipulated for its associative aspects to achieve the desired results. Henry Hobson Richardson effectively used roof forms as a symbol to temper or reinforce the impact Henry Hobson Richardson desired in a building. For example, Henry Hobson Richardson would use a very apparent hip roof to temper the impersonal quality of a tall and expansive civic building, such as the Cincinnati Chamber of Commerce (1886-1888), or to help stretch the horizontal lines of Harvard's Sever Hall while serving to relate it conceptually to colonial structures nearby. When unbroken rooflines were coupled with uniform surface treatment and tight wall surfaces, Henry Hobson Richardson had achieved the basic ingredients of his mature style. Note the powerful image of the Glessner house. The long gable ridge line, parallel rows of rock-faced granite ashlar, and forceful expanse of uninterrupted wall (150 ft long) all serve to reinforce horizuntality and continuity of planar surfaces while establishing a weighty and rooted presence. Yet, the house form, when viewed abstractly, takes on the appearance of a simply central-hall eighteenth-century Colonial domestic structure with an attached ell. This visual alignment with familiar Colonial house forms was an attempt to balance the assertive design gestures of the explosion of scale, rugged wall surface, and inordinate length that otherwise counter the associations of home. It was Richardson 's ability to pull forms across the surface of the building and to use expressive building materials skillfully that transformed this simply domestic outline into a monumental structure. At the same time, Richardson 's handling of uniform surface texture within a unified wall plane preserved visual unity despite the variety of features and demonstrates how Henry Hobson Richardson had reconciled the use of singular picturesque elements of Queen Anne styling to be compatible with his design philosophy of a unified whole. The window and door openings in the Glessner house, for example, withdraw into the wall mass, allowing the wall to assert itself even further as a singular element. Individual elements (such as the Saracenic arch that leads to the service wing) maintain their own life and personality, but not just as singular sensational elements that call out for attention (as in Queen Anne styling); instead, they become subordinate parts of a larger compositional scheme. Henry Hobson Richardson, having relied heavily on Queen Anne design features and handling earlier in his career, resists (after 1878) sacrificing the whole to the power of its parts.

 

Richardson 's architecture, when analyzed according to the basic forms it assumed, presents a reliable key to the underlying creative formulas that would lend his total work the qualities of consistency, strength, clearness of conception, and repose. This article will provide a formalistic study of Richardson 's architecture based on an examination of his preliminary sketches and completed work as abstract forms in an attempt to establish what patterns emerge in his work and to identify the essential qualities that make Richardson 's reinterpretation of historic styles (such as the Romanesque) distinctive. Through such a study, it will be seen that Richardson 's approach remains relatively static and (after Sever Hall, 1878) responds little to changes in material or civic or domestic programs, because what is given from the first sketch is a Richardsonian formula-a consistent aesthetic response applied to five architectural formats, within which all functions are sensitively arranged and clearly expressed. It is inappropriate, then, to make distinctions of substyles within Richardson 's mature work (ie, the Queen Anne, the shingle style, or Romanesque) on the basis of the materials used or the typologic elements employed-they are simply Richardsonian. Henry Hobson Richardson developed many of his design principles and his design process while at the Ecole des Beaux Arts (from 1859 to 1865, but principally in 1861). Henry Hobson Richardson was the second American to study at the Ecole (preceded only by Richard Morris Hunt). There, a student was required (generally within a day's time) to establish a parti or schema that incorporated the required program and to present an esquisse (quick sketch). Both the parti and the esquisse would then be developed into scaled and tinted drawings and be presented to the patron of the atelier for criticism, the final presentation having not deviated at all from the primary elements of the original esquisse.

Henry Hobson Richardson, then, through the manipulation of rooflines and materials, is able to lend his domestic structures monumentality and his monuments, domesticity. The use of the roofline as a domineering and symbolic element provides the viewer with the simplest (though perhaps the most forceful) organizing scheme. Close observation of Richardson 's sketches also reveals that except for his earliest works, such as the Unity Church (Springfield, 1866-1869), and when it was necessary to compromise his design for economic reasons, as in the case of the Emmanuel Episcopal church, Henry Hobson Richardson generally avoided placing entrances at the gable end of a building, preferring instead to place the entrance on axis with the long side of a building. The gable entrance structures generally signal the still immature phase of his work when in 1865, having returned from his studies at the Ecole des Beaux Arts, the young architect was groping for architectural inspiration. Having had little practical experience designing churches while in Paris, Henry Hobson Richardson relied on English precedents for parish churches built by architects such as Butterfield and Burgess whose works were constantly illustrated in English periodicals.

What quickly developed, however, from these early church formats, when combined with the rationalist training at the Ecole in cross-axial planning, was merely a reorientation of focus in the nave-transept-apse arrangement. The standard cruciform format was later merely shifted so that one enters through the "transept" and a long horizontal wall is allowed to assert itself. This orientation was actually prompted by the predilection of English Gothic churches to have the primary entrance through the side (north porch) rather than the front portals (as the French prefer). One notices in the massing for the Grace Church in Medford, Massachusetts, as early as 1867-1869 that Henry Hobson Richardson is already well on his way to establishing the basis for his later library parti-employing the tower-gable-arch grouping (still separate elements in Grace Church) on axis with the long side of the building and using the apse area as a reading room, especially the Winn and Billings libraries).

Once Henry Hobson Richardson established this format (1877) of tower-gable-arch meeting the building at right angles (and placed visually off-balance to the long side of a structure), Henry Hobson Richardson was able to consistently tap these features for planning solutions in other building types as well by sliding features all along the long horizontal stretch of wall and adding on or dropping off others. The same features and formats are used over again along with the same approach to surface treatment by simply reshuffling the parts and materials and shifting the focus.

The repetition of such schemes allowed Henry Hobson Richardson to arrive at programmatic massing and siting solutions in a relatively short time. J. J. Glessner, for example, notes that after seeing the Prairie Avenue building site for his home only a few minutes, Henry Hobson Richardson drew a sketch during dinner of the L-shaped plan (that would be tucked into the rectangular lot) with boxed-off spaces for interior volumes, and said, "If you won't ask me how I get into it, I will draw the plan for your house." "The first floor plans," Glessner notes were "almost exactly as it was finally decided on." In essence, it was the Stoughton House and Converse Library schemes reversed and backed against a two-story blank wall of a proposed house to create an enclosed courtyard reminescent of a palazzo cortile. Additionally, the Winn Public Library (March 1877) becomes the Billings Library of April 1883 by centering the portal in the gable and adding the end turret, which 4 months later would be grafted onto the Converse Library in Maiden, Massachusetts (August 1883).

The Billings Memorial Library (1883-1887) in Burlington, Vermont, was specifically designed to mirror the Winn Library at the request of the president of the University of Vermont. Van Renssalaer argues that this gave Henry Hobson Richardson the unique opportunity to improve his original inspired design. The Billings Library reflects an even closer affinity to the design elements of the Winn Library in earlier project sketches in which the tower is retained to the right of the gable instead of being shifted to the left of the gable and is loosely contained by two stubby turret forms. The oversized stair tower, the indefinite entry, and the picturesque grouping of features of the Winn Library are rethought and refined in the later library. In the Billings Library, the polygonal reading room (housing the Marsh Collection) is firmly integrated into the major fabric of the elevation. The ridge line, too, is allowed to continue in an unbroken line on the other side of the entrance grouping to connect with the apsidal form instead of allowing it to exist as an awkward appendage to the main structure as is the case in the Winn Library. In the Billings Library, compositional and spatial unity have been achieved through the adjustment of massing while establishing the dominance of the entrance feature. The perfected formula for a large-scale library in Richardson 's oeuvre had now been achieved.

The Ames Library (1877-1879), on the other hand, represents a consolidation of the library format and a simplification of the plan over what was presented in the Winn Library 6 months earlier; it offers a more practical and economical scheme for small town libraries that required less book space, but still provided ample space for a reading room while eliminating the museum special collections addition. As opposed to the Winn format, the polygonal museum space was simply lopped-off. The entrance porch became less of a distinct and isolated element and was absorbed into the center of the tower-gable complex (as in the later Billings Library). The entrance grouping is allowed to assert itself more and is pushed forward. This is the same general arrangement as for the Crane Library (1880-1883); in both cases, the fireplaces that previously were placed in the central hall crossing (the far "transept" wall) of the Winn and Billings libraries are redirected to the short reading-room space to the right of the entrance; the reading-room fireplaces are now in direct line with the long alcove book collection area. This adjustment of format plan from continuous cross axis to that more resembling an "L" shape allowed Henry Hobson Richardson to exaggerate in later schemes the subtle format gestures present in the Ames Library to those more in keeping with the picturesque open planning of Queen Anne house forms and indicates that even in his more elaborate structures Henry Hobson Richardson was often thinking in terms of domestic planning and features. In this regard, the homelike ambiance of the interior reading-room space of even the large-scale libraries (such as the Billings Memorial) harkens back to the gentleman's library tradition. Such private estate libraries of the Colonial era in the United States are visually referred to in the selected design features used by Henry Hobson Richardson to bridge the new "public" library movement. This new building type (as part of the larger cultural revolution in America machalls, parks, and public school buildings throughout the second half of the nineteenth century) was sponsored largely by Richardson 's design solutions and programs for large and small town libraries.

Henry Hobson Richardson (whose office after 1874 was located in Brookline, Mass.) provided a scale that was public, but at the same time itigated the "public" aspects by inserting potent domestic references familiar to the New England consciousness. The massing profile of the Crane Memorial Library in Quincy, Massachusetts, for xample, assumes the character of a New England saltbox house. On the interior of the Billings Memorial Library one finds a seventeenth-century New England style hearth (complete with uiltin settles, andirons, cooking cranes) and a personalized version of a Colonial-era grandfather clock nearby. All these features, although based on New England vernacular traditions, are elevated to the level of a conscious work of art-what might be appropriately termed high style vernacular; the chimney lintel, for example, historically used for hanging cooking utensils now celebrated a stylized floral carving that anticipated Sullivan's Auditorium period. Hence, the vernacular domestic medieval (not just the ecclesiastical medieval) often served Henry Hobson Richardson as a starting point for progressive, high style design.

When Henry Hobson Richardson was called on to design more monumental structures, such as large university buildings, civic and commercial structures, or cathedrals of the magnitude of Trinity Church, his elevations became more symmetrical (often relying on projecting end pavilions to contain the mass of the block and a central tower to mark monumental entry), and his planning became more formal. In the Harvard University structures of Sever Hall (1878) and Austin Hall Law School (1881), French classical planning of the type similar to the project for the Worcester General Hospital of the late 1860s was revived. As in the hospital plan, one enters on axis through a clearly marked entrance and is struck by the apparent flow of the cross-axial movement. In Sever Hall, circulation patterns are clearly evident on entering: One may pass directly through the structure and leave through an equally balanced facade in the rear, choose the vertical circulation up a stairway opposite the entrance to the upper stories, or proceed laterally into the first floor classroom area. In Austin Hall, a large lecture hall was needed; thus, in lieu of a stairwell space, the rear of the building is projected out in the manner of the Worcester General Hospital plan except that in the law school the space radiates inward to provide space for lecture-hall seating. As in Sever Hall, the cross axis again leads to classrooms and to upstairs stairwells.

A reading of the elevations of the two Harvard structures provides nearly all of the monumental design dieturns of the Ecole: simplicity of form, majesty of scale, a central mass to express clarity of intention, and formal massing stressing good proportion. Again, one observes the general tendency to begin with a spreading horizontal form that is organically rooted to the ground line by a flaring base and is entered on axis (in this case, a purposefully centered axis) to stress formality. As is typical with Richardson 's large-scale structures, an imposing hip roof is relied on to tame impersonal formality and to present a domestic association. The uninterrupted roofline, however, maintains the geometric qualities of the form as a whole (providing visual unity) and provides it with the monumentality it seeks by extending its lines. The organizing principles inherent in these two stylistically divergent buildings generally establish the massing patterns of other diverse buildings such as the Cincinnati Chamber of Commerce and the New York State Capital; a simple horizontal form is reinforced visually by a prominent hip roof and is consistently bounded by towers or projecting bays that serve to contain the block and give it formality, focus, and marked symmetry. 

Trinity Church (1872)

As a variation structures seeking added monumental ity were given centered groupings of a projecting pavilion, chateau roof, or tower bounded by two vertical forms (side towers or pavilions), and the entrance was given visual focus by being centered and accented by either one large arch or a grouping of three. Hence, while it is accurate to speak of the Worcester High School format (1869-1871) as using a palazzo organizing scheme for the elevation, augmented by Second Empire massing, and High Victorian Gothic coloration, what results is the adoption of a central tower form (now buttressed by side pavilions) for large municipal structures such as the Allegheny County Court House (1884-1888). Similarly, for planning schemes in larger structures, such as Trinity Church (1872) and Albany Cathedral (not built), Henry Hobson Richardson condensed the parti and turned more-or-less to a contained, compact block surmounted by built-up pyramidal massing elements over a Greek cross plan. Because the Brattle Square Church, Boston (1866-1873) was originally conceived in a cruciform plan, O'Gorman believes that in plan and in styling (the first appearance of the Romanesque in Richardson 's work) that Brattle Square anticipates Trinity. But, although the German Romanesque provided a turning point in Richardson 's search for an appropriate architectural language. Trinity's powerful, simple massing led Henry Hobson Richardson more clearly along the path of a personal style that would be independent of historical sources. Richardson 's search for a new style was attained more through massing solutions and surface treatment that would provide simplicity of form and wholeness of conception than the prominence of any one style. Even though his formats and individual features might be derivative, Henry Hobson Richardson was successful in fitting new and challenging building programs into massing schemes rich in historical associations compatible with it and making an architectural statement totally his own.

The basic qualities of mass, simplicity, proportion, and concentration were clearly seen by some of his contemporaries, and it was these same qualities that Henry Hobson Richardson seemingly used with a vengeance in the Marshall Field Warehouse (begun 1885), in Chicago, when Henry Hobson Richardson clarified his format for the "commercial box." The Marshall Field building represents a continual process of simplification of form and a paring away of excessive eccentric details present in earlier commercial formulas. The Cheney Building of 1875, for example, shunned the use of the mansard roof of the Union Express Company Building, Chicago (1872) but retained two slightly projecting pavilions. The basic cubic quality and visual alignment of windows under attenuated arches (which unite several stories and then divide at the top floors into two smaller arches) already signaled the refined format of the Marshall Field Warehouse. The single "tower" that asserts itself in the side elevation of the Cheney Building scheme disrupts the organization achieved in the cubic section and is a residue of the older formula of the Union Express Company.

Allegheny County Courthouse, designed in 1883

Richardson 's use of a hierarchic arrangement of arches for decorative effect and to unite the surface design as a whole relies basically on the Italian Renaissance palace tradition-a popular symbolic reference for the association of a commercial structure. Such Renaissance arch organization had been employed for commercial structures since the mid-nineteenth century and had been used with much success even more recently in the 1870s in large commercial buildings by George Post (whom, interestingly, Henry Hobson Richardson had replaced in Charles Dexter Gambrill's office in 1867). The reliance on arcuated formulas to discipline the facade is used by Henry Hobson Richardson almost exclusively for commercial structures; the interior courtyard of the Allegheny County Courthouse offers a rare exception. In applying this formula, Henry Hobson Richardson is searching for decorative unity without detracting from the sobriety of the pure form of his structures. At its extreme, and the Field building qualifies, the commercial block was merely an austere (yet monumental) geometric envelope to shelter a diversity of functions. Both Post and Henry Hobson Richardson successfully arrived at a desirable solution for the commercial block by the mid-1880s (Post's Produce Exchange Building, 1884, in New York and Richardson 's Field Warehouse, 1885). These structures avoid the trappings of a "commercial palace" that were looked down on by some contemporary architectural critics, such as Montgomery Schuyler, and produced instead a severely simple form boldly expressive of its utilitarian purpose.

But what happened to this "simplicity of treatment" and this sense of pure form only 4 months later (August 1885) when Henry Hobson Richardson designed the Cincinnati Chamber of Commerce Building? Was it a step backward in Richardson 's supposed quest for a progressive architecture of his times-"an unfortunate abberation defying rational explanation" as some suggest? Or, is it essentially a dual view of the concept of "reality" that was present throughout Richardson 's career, as Gowans suggests.

One definition of reality (that sponsors the creation of such elevations as the Field Building) holds that reality in architecture is "an expression of the intrinsic qualities of stone: its texture, its capacity to carry weight, the constructional techniques appropriate in such a medium;" the other definition of reality, as Gowans sees it, means "archaeological accuracy-the demonstration of how forms of a past style may be adapted to modern uses with minimum sacrifice of historical reference." This later definition gives birth to such structures, Gowans feels, as the Cincinnati Chamber of Commerce building. Gowans stated that, "essentially both buildings proceeded from the same impulse and premises." However, these two structures are not essentially different, except in intent. The Chamber of Commerce building is not an anomaly in Richardson 's work that stands as a blaring impasse to his more progressive developments. It comes from the same conscious selection of forms and design formulas Henry Hobson Richardson had consistpntly drawn on throughout his career. In fact, one can view the Chamber of Commerce Building as the Marmanesque elements, or even Colonial features, this does not make him an historical or revivalist architect; this, essentially, is the shortcoming of such terms as Richardsonian Romanesque. Henry Hobson Richardson uses these elements in a fresh and original manner often purely for compositional or associational qualities, as in the brick "sidelights" or stretched dormers of Sever Hall. These elements become "found objects" (to use Marcel DuChamp's meaning of the phrase) and possess vitality and meaning that is "Richardsonian"-not historic. Therefore, the character of the Chamber of Commerce building does not reflect another view of "reality," as Gowans proposes, but a consciously conceived format that has been manipulated for a desired effect. What Henry Hobson Richardson has done in the Cincinnati Chamber of Commerce is to merge the hip roof-the two but tressing towers vocabulary of the State Hospital, Buffalo with the Renaissance design formulas of his earlier commercial structures to yield a formal yet "humanistic" structure. Or seen another way, the Chamber of Commerce Building stands as a bridge between the more "romantic" massing of the earlier Merchant's Union Express Office with its French roof and side pavilions and the later "rational" massing and design features of the Field building. Simply flatten the roof of the Chamber of Commerce Building and remove or recess the side towers, and the remaining elements speak with the same power and simplicity as does the Field building.

This dual sensitivity toward romantic and rational schemes runs throughout Richardson 's career and accounts for the disparity of judgment among what contemporary critics saw as Richardson 's "best" work-works that seemingly drew from inspiration far afield from one another. Richardson 's broad-based popularity, then, likely stems from the dual nature of his designs. Coeval architects, who held widely divergent design biases, could each find something they could draw from in the rich and varied offerings within Richardson 's oeuvre.

The difference in handling of these two structures results from a difference in intent. The Field Warehouse was designed as a utilitarian, investment structure with no pressure to present a corporate image and, therefore, could afford to be severely simple, whereas the problem presented by the Chamber of Commerce building, as Van Rensselaer states, had not the hampering monotony of a simple commercial building but it was quite as modern in way. American merchants, like their far-off predecessors in Belgium and Holland, want a great and dignified happy assemblage; but with a keener eye to revenue, they that it shall be combined with an "office building"-Urat every possible foot of space shall be put to use in ways that are often quite at variance with the chief use of a building, and that as many such feet as possible shall be secured by vertical extension. The form that the Chamber of Commerce takes, it appears, results from a desire to satisfy the demands for "dignity" (in its use of the hip roof and side turrets) and the desire for utility (in its compactness and expressed separation of parts).

As O'Gorman is quick to inform us, Richardson 's quest for a personal style does not reflect a direct development. Although there are consistencies in format applications and spatial arrangements, his path is less than direct in synthesizing the "derivative and often awkward eclecticism" of the late 1860s to the mid-1870s into the "profound and powerful" language of his maturity. The key to Richardson 's eventual success, however, has less to do with coming to grips with any one style than with the final resolution of his design process and aesthetic philosophy with which he could address all of his styles. Henry Hobson Richardson gained full command of his resources, as O'Gorman put it, in 1878. Oschner recounts: Richardson 's professional maturity was marked by a series of projects beginning in 1878: Sever Harll, Cambridge; The John Bryant House, Cohasset; the Amea Monument, Wyoming; and the Crane Library, Quincy. In these projects Henry Hobson Richardson began to simplify form and to ruminate archeological detail. Henry Hobson Richardson turned instead to basic�s Kapes, continuous surfaces, and the innate qualities of his buildings.

In this manner, buildings from widely divergent stylistic roots became swatches from the same design fabric. Stoughton is the Glessner House rendered in granite instead of shingles; Ames Gate is Sever formed out of glacial boulders in lieu of brick. Sweeping surfaces allow for the synthesis of form and feature into a unified whole.

It was Richardson 's unique ability to manipulate masses imaginatively into functionally distinct volumes, design within a fixed framework of several formats, and apply a consistent aesthetic philosophy to the surface treatment that defines the essence of his mature style. The end result is a highly powerful and original architectural statement free of historical precedent. After 1878, America had its first original style-Richardsonian. American architecture had come of age.

bibliography

1. M. G. van Rensselaer, Henry Hobson Henry Hobson Richardson and his Works, Dover Publications, Inc., New York, 1888 and 1969, p. 126.
2. W. A. Langdon, "The Method of Henry Hobson Richardson," The Architect and Contract Reporter LXIII, 156-158 (March 9, 1900).
3. J. F. O'Gorman ed., Henry Hobson Richardson and his Office, A Centennial of his Move to Boston, Harvard College Press, Cambridge, Mass., 1974, p. 60.
4. Ibid., p. 60.
5. H. H. Hitchcock, The Architecture of Henry Hobson Richardson and his Times, Hamden, 1961.
6. J. J. Glessner, "Why we built this house and how we came to select this architect," (a four-page typescript, only two printed), reproduced in full in Ref. 5, pp. 328-330.
7. W. Jordy, American Buildings and their Architecture: Progressive and Academic Ideals of the Turn of the Twentieth Century, Vol. 3, Doubleday, New York, 1976, pp. 314-375. A good background on the development of library formats in the United States.
8. M. Schulyer in W. Jordy and R. Coe, eds., American Architecture and Other Writings, Atheneum, New York, 1964, pp.