The Architectural Review and American Builders' Journal, Aug. 1869

In Short

This volume serves as a contemporary chronicle of American construction during a pivotal era of industrial expansion. It functions as an architectural review and professional manual, blending critical essays on design aesthetics with technical guidance on fire-proofing, material science, and urban planning. By documenting the tension between imported European trends—such as the Mansard roof—and the emerging need for a functional, "rational" American style, the text captures a nation transitioning from colonial mimicry to independent innovation. It remains a significant historical record of how nineteenth-century society conceptualized progress.

The Story

The narrative of this collection begins with a spirited defense of American architectural maturity. The contributors address critics from the London Builder, who have mocked the "trickery" of American buildings—specifically the use of painted wood to imitate stone. While the authors concede that early American churches were often built of necessity in the "national material" of wood, they argue that the republic is rapidly advancing. They point to the rise of stone spires and a growing professional class of architects who have finally discarded their outdated Greek and Roman idols in favor of more ambitious, modern forms.

The focus then shifts to the widespread adoption of the Mansard roof, a French import that initially promised elegance but quickly devolved into a national absurdity. The authors recount with frustration how this style was indiscriminately applied to every conceivable building type, leading to "stultish" and grotesque results. This chapter serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of unthinking fashion, as the editors declare the style officially "doomed" and destined to be viewed by future generations with amused wonder.

From the critique of style, the text moves into the realm of the practical, detailing the construction of a luxurious merchant’s residence near the Hudson River. This serves as a case study in modern planning, emphasizing the integration of comfort, utility, and landscape design. The narrative then pivots to essential infrastructure, celebrating the invention of vault lights—glass inserts for sidewalks—as a "blessing to society" that finally eliminated the dark, filthy cellar conditions of the past.

The argument matures as the authors demand a separation between the fine arts of painting and architecture. They insist that architecture requires a more disciplined, intellectual engagement from the public than a mere glance at a gallery canvas. This section culminates in a broader reflection on the century’s progress, marking the centenary of figures like James Watt, whose steam engine revolutionized global industry. The text connects these technological leaps to the necessity of fire-proof construction, particularly in dense urban centers. The contributors analyze the vulnerabilities of contemporary publishing and commercial buildings, arguing for stone, brick, and iron used "rationally"—where decoration follows construction rather than hiding it.

The arc concludes with a series of technical lessons and pleas for social improvement. Whether providing geometric proofs for perpendicular lines or advocating for public bathing houses to ensure health for the poor, the text maintains a consistent thesis: that architecture is a "necessary art." It ends by reviewing new instructional guides for rural builders, reinforcing the mission to spread technical knowledge across a "wide country" that is still learning how to build its future.

How It Unfolds

The critical defense The volume opens by confronting foreign critiques of American building practices, framing the transition from wooden, painted imitations to genuine stone masonry as proof of a nascent national architectural identity.

The fashion cycle The contributors examine the "pseudo French style" of the Mansard roof, documenting its rapid ascent and inevitable decline as designers realized that applying a single, capricious ornament to all structures resulted in architectural nonsense.

The model residence The text presents a detailed blueprint of a suburban villa, showcasing the modern arrangement of internal rooms, servant quarters, and grounds as an ideal toward which the aspiring merchant class should strive.

The argument for distinction A central polemic argues that architecture must be exhibited and studied independently from painting, as the former is a structural necessity that demands cognitive labor rather than passive aesthetic appreciation.

The call for rationality The authors critique the fire-prone nature of modern warehouses and offices, proposing that builders abandon cheap, flammable wood finishes in favor of stone, marble, and iron—provided those materials are used to express rather than conceal their true functions.

The pedagogical mission The final sections offer practical geometry lessons and industry news, ensuring that builders in remote areas have the same access to scientific accuracy as their urban counterparts.

The People

The book is populated by a diverse cast of professionals and public figures who represent the era’s shifting priorities. M. C. MEIGS, the Quarter Master General of the U.S. Army, appears as an ideal patron of the arts, sharing a practical tip for preserving India ink to assist fellow learners. His involvement illustrates the link between military precision and artistic endeavor. The “CITIZEN,” an anonymous contributor, acts as the moral conscience of the work, pushing for the construction of public bathing houses to improve the health of the urban poor.

Architects like JOHN STEWART are highlighted for their specific projects, while the editors themselves function as arbiters of taste. They hold a tense, professional dialogue with European counterparts, rejecting the "trickery" of the past and pushing for a generation of designers who will build with integrity. There is a sense of collective ambition among these figures; they want to move beyond the "plodding after the deified Dollar" to create a built environment that reflects a "rational and progressive age." They are not individual protagonists in a story but participants in a shared struggle to professionalize an industry.

In Its Own Voice

Regarding the tendency to use architecture as a means of deception rather than structural honesty, the authors note:

Grace Church is of a by-gone taste,—an architectural era which we now look back to in order to see, by contrast, how far we have advanced in architectural construction.

In a critique of the reckless and illogical application of the Mansard roof, the writers observe:

Fashion begins to look coldly upon her recent favorite, which in truth “has been made to play such fantastic tricks before high Heaven, as make the angles weep;” and it is doomed.

On the necessity of creating a truly rational, fire-proof architecture for the nineteenth century, the editors state:

First, let your work be strong and well balanced—no part too heavy—no part too light.

What It's Really About

The central argument concerns the "rationality" of construction. The contributors contend that architecture is not a vanity project but a serious, intellectual discipline that must balance beauty with utility. The text probes the conflict between the desire for ornate, fashionable exteriors and the cold reality of fire, waste, and structural failure. It asks: How can a young nation reconcile its need for rapid, cheap growth with the standards of a permanent, dignified civilization? Beneath the technical discussions lies a deep-seated anxiety about the "degenerate" state of modern taste and a hopeful, if demanding, call for architects to serve as the moral and scientific stewards of the public space.

Why Read It Today

Readers with an interest in urban history or the philosophy of design will find this volume deeply rewarding. It provides a rare, unvarnished look at the internal discourse of nineteenth-century builders who were struggling to define what an "American" building should look like. The tone is bracingly direct—there is no marketing fluff here, only the sharp, sometimes prickly opinions of men who deeply cared about the integrity of the built world.

Modern readers may find the technical passages—such as the step-by-step instructions for geometric proofs—quite dense, and the period-specific obsession with certain styles like the Mansard roof requires some patience to follow. However, the book’s greatest strength is its perspective: it captures the excitement of a time when the world was being "revolutionized" by the steam engine and industrial ingenuity. The text feels like a conversation from a century and a half ago that is still relevant to our own ongoing struggle to build cities that are both beautiful and safe. It leaves the reader with a renewed sense of responsibility toward the structures that house our daily lives, reminding us that architecture is not just a luxury, but the very stage upon which the drama of human progress is performed.