Freestanding Houses A Housing Typology 1st Edition

Günter Pfeifer - PDF Download (2025)

https://ebookultra.com/download/freestanding-houses-a-housing-
typology-1st-edition-gunter-pfeifer/

Visit ebookultra.com today to download the complete set of

ebooks or textbooks
 We believe these products will be a great fit for you. Click
the link to download now, or visit ebookultra.com
to discover even more!

Row Houses A Housing Typology 1st Edition Günter Pfeifer

https://ebookultra.com/download/row-houses-a-housing-typology-1st-
edition-gunter-pfeifer/

Magnificent Houses in Twentieth Century European

Literature 1st Edition Hugo G. Walter

https://ebookultra.com/download/magnificent-houses-in-twentieth-
century-european-literature-1st-edition-hugo-g-walter/

Starting Out The c3 Sicilian 1st Edition John Emms

https://ebookultra.com/download/starting-out-the-c3-sicilian-1st-
edition-john-emms/

A Typology of Purpose Clauses 1st Edition Karsten

Schmidtke-Bode

https://ebookultra.com/download/a-typology-of-purpose-clauses-1st-
edition-karsten-schmidtke-bode/
Bilingual Speech A Typology of Code Mixing 1st Edition
Pieter Muysken

https://ebookultra.com/download/bilingual-speech-a-typology-of-code-
mixing-1st-edition-pieter-muysken/

Thomas Killigrew Cavalier Dramatist 1612 83 Alfred Harbage

https://ebookultra.com/download/thomas-killigrew-cavalier-
dramatist-1612-83-alfred-harbage/

How to Read Houses Will Jones

https://ebookultra.com/download/how-to-read-houses-will-jones/

The New Materialism Althusser Badiou and Zizek 1st Edition

Geoff Pfeifer

https://ebookultra.com/download/the-new-materialism-althusser-badiou-
and-zizek-1st-edition-geoff-pfeifer/

Advances in Cancer Research Vol 83 1st Edition George

Klein (Editor)

https://ebookultra.com/download/advances-in-cancer-research-
vol-83-1st-edition-george-klein-editor/
Freestanding Houses A Housing Typology 1st Edition
Günter Pfeifer Digital Instant Download
Author(s): Günter Pfeifer, Per Brauneck
ISBN(s): 9783034600736, 3034600739
Edition: 1
File Details: PDF, 5.11 MB
Year: 2010
Language: english
Freestanding Houses
This book is also available in a German language edition.
(ISBN 978-3-0346-0072-9)

Graphic Design and Drawings: Sebastian Schaal, Martin Trefon

Translation from German: Julian Reisenberger, Weimar

Library of Congress Control Number: 2009933147

Bibliographic information published by the German National Library

The German National Library lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliografie;
detailed bibliographic data are available on the Internet at http://dnb.ddb.de

This work is subject to copyright. All rights are reserved, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically
the rights of translation, reprinting, re-use of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in other
ways, and storage in data banks. For any kind of use, permission of the copyright owner must be obtained.

© 2010 Birkhäuser Verlag AG

Basel · Boston · Berlin
P.O.Box 133, CH-4010 Basel, Switzerland
Part of Springer Science+Business Media

Printed on acid-free paper produced from chlorine-free pulp. TCF '

Printed in Germany

ISBN 978-3-0346-0073-6

987654321 www.birkhauser.ch
Günter Pfeifer and Per Brauneck

Freestanding Houses
A Housing Typology

Birkhäuser
Basel · Boston · Berlin
Contents

Preface 6

The typology of the freestanding house 8

Floor plan types 18

Semi-detached
Parvilla I, Tham & Videgård Hansson Arkitekter 20
House W, Bayer & Strobel Architekten 22
Patchwork house, Pfeifer Roser Kuhn Architekten 24
House of the present, Allmann Sattler Wappner Architekten 26
House C, Per Brauneck 28
Vogelsang farmhouse, AmreinHerzig Architekten 30
Three family house "In der Hub", Morger & Degelo Architekten 32
Hadersdorf model housing estate 3, Hans Kollhoff Architekten 34
Hadersdorf model housing estate 4, Steidle Architekten 36
Villa Overgooi, Next Architects 38
KBWW house, MVRDV 42
Two houses, Gigon/Guyer Architekten 44
Home for architects and artists, Fuhrimann Hächler Architekten 46
Student project, Christian Weyell 48

Communal staircase access

Apartment houses, Susenbergstrasse, Gigon/Guyer Architekten 50
Rottmannsboden house, Morger & Degelo Architekten 52
Hagenbuchrain housing development, Bünzli & Courvoisier Architekten 54
Hegianwandweg housing, EM2N Architekten 56
Lohbach residences, Baumschlager & Eberle 58
BDZ housing development, pool Architekten 60
"Malzturm", Hürlimann Areal, Thomas Schregenberger 62
Student project, Björn Schmidt 66
Student project, Angèle Tersluisen 68
Student project, Björn Schmidt 70
Student project, Sebastian Schaal 72

Courtyard access
Java Island housing, Diener & Diener Architekten 74
Werdwies housing development, Adrian Streich Architekten 76
Student project, Philippa Glaser 78
Student project, Johannes Lahme 80
Hybrid
Esplanade housing, Steidle Architekten 82
Student project, Sebastian Schaal 86
Student project, Daniel Dolder 88
Diploma project, Tobias Katz 90

High-rise
Chassé Park apartments, Xaveer de Geyter 92
Silverline tower, Claus en Kaan Architecten 94
Star House 3, Steidle Architekten 98
De Rokade residential building, Arons en Gelauff Architecten 100
"PopMoma" residential tower, Baumschlager & Eberle 102
"Moma" residential tower, Baumschlager & Eberle 104
KNSM apartment tower, Wiel Arets Architects 106
Kanchanjunga tower, Charles Correa Associates 108
Wienerberg apartment high-rise, Delugan Meissl Architects 112
Torre Cuajimalpa residential tower, Meir Lobaton and Kristjan Donaldson 114

Bibliography 118

Illustration credits 120

 Preface

The freestanding house is not, strictly speaking, a typological category of

housing. While in the previous volumes in the series – row houses, courtyard
houses and town houses – the focus lay on typological floor plan arrange-
ments, here the term "freestanding" refers to an urban typological category.
This marks a first fundamental difference to the other volumes in the series.

Freestanding houses can be categorised according to their type of access,

orientation and spatial organisation, but as these categories reoccur in new
formations, they cannot be regarded as true typological characteristics.

An examination of freestanding houses, therefore, refers less to typological

floor plan characteristics, focusing instead on the issue of structural integra-
tion at an urban level. But here we are faced with a seemingly irresolvable
conflict: urban spaces cannot be formed with freestanding houses alone.
The freestanding house wants to be as independent as possible, will not fall
into line and resists typological classification. This explains, perhaps, why
the freestanding house is still viewed by many as an ideal way of living.
Standing on its own, it embodies the desire for maximum possible freedom
and independence.

Although we have long been aware that the promise of autonomy is more
illusion than reality, from a psychological point of view, the feeling of individ-
ualism is perhaps a decisive factor for the popularity of the "freestanding
house".

The freestanding house represents the last in the series of volumes on housing
typologies – after courtyard houses, row houses and town houses – and is
also the most complex. In the context of the argumentation followed in the
previous volumes, which proposes the cybernetic networking of individual
elements in complex structures, this volume assumes a special status. At first
sight, the inherent contradiction between "individual", "freestanding" and
"independent", and "networked", "structural" and "cybernetic" seems ir-
reconcilable. But, given that demand for this type of housing remains undi-
minished and that it also gives rise to economic and ecological problems, it
is vital that we resolve this contradiction.

This volume shows a selection of built and unbuilt projects which, in the aut-
hors’ opinion, exhibit particularly compelling typological floor plan arrange-
ments that are nevertheless flexible enough to anticipate future require-
ments. As this book is the product of ongoing research at the Department of

6
Architecture at the University of Darmstadt, projects by established architects
stand alongside designs by students which, in the spirit of research work, rep-
resent the current state of academic exploration, which strives for a holistic
and forward-looking consideration of housing.

The authors aim to show which possibilities can lead to high-density, com-
plex spatial structures. The study begins by considering relatively straightfor-
ward, small freestanding residential buildings in complex urban, communal,
ecological and spatial contexts. Accordingly, the examples illustrate elements
that relate intelligently to aspects such as sunshine, orientation, spatial struc-
ture and adjacent outdoor areas. As the examples become more complex,
the number of elements that relate to one another within the freestanding
houses increases, each fulfilling important functions such as external and
internal circulation, lighting, views in and out, private outdoor areas and
energy supply.

With the exception of especially complex projects, the projects are present-
ed in a uniform layout and scale. The projects are presented mostly in the
form of floor plans supplemented by sections or isometric drawings where
necessary to explain the project. Typical floor plans in some examples have
been coloured to make building structures easier to discern and are denoted
in shades of grey in the individual storeys. Furnishings are represented
abstractly to aid legibility. While information concerning the construction,
economics or technical details has been omitted, ecological advantages
resulting from particular typological arrangements of floor plans are noted
in the accompanying description. Photos of the individual projects illustrate
characteristic elements of each project.

In this last volume in the series on housing typologies, we particularly want-

ed to demonstrate the advantages and fascinating potential of spatial vari-
ety and networked structural approaches. We wish to encourage all those
actively involved in creating and designing housing options to explore new
directions, drawing on the examples presented here as a basis for their own
investigations.

7
 The typology of the freestanding house

There are few more compelling examples of a freestanding house than the
Black Forest farmhouse.1 First and foremost, it epitomises a sense of "home"
and autonomy, craftsmanship and solidity. It is a hybrid building serving sev-
eral uses, and its basic structure is ecological and cybernetic, two aspects
that one could write about in detail. The Black Forest farmhouse is "free-
standing" in the true sense of the word: it is a single building standing in the
midst of open landscape; it is adapted to fit its environment; and its spatial
structure as well as its building materials are drawn from its direct surround-
ings. These represent in essence the principal qualities of an ecological and
sustainable architectonic structure for freestanding buildings.

Schniderli farmhouse, 1593, Wolf Schneller

The other image which we commonly associate with "freestanding houses"

are estates of detached, single family houses that increasingly fill the ever
expanding peripheries of our cities,2 the most drastic examples of which can
be seen in the sprawling suburbs of Los Angeles. In this perverted form of
the freestanding house, it is hard to find any qualities that remotely compare
to those of the Black Forest farmhouse.

While the first example exemplifies the qualities of the freestanding house,
the second illustrates dramatically the problems associated with this housing
typology. These two images mark the extents of architectural discourse on
the typology of the freestanding house.

8
The qualities of this housing typology are immediately apparent. Because
it stands on its own, the building faces in all directions. The passage of the
sun can be experienced throughout the entire house: morning light streams
in at breakfast, the sun deck faces south, living areas face west towards the
evening sun and atelier and work rooms receive diffuse light from the north.
Its orientation makes it possible to frame particular views – provided they
are not obstructed by neighbouring buildings – or alternatively, to block out
undesirable views by utilising the many alternative lighting options.

The freestanding house affords the designer apparently unlimited freedom

in both the design of the house as well as response to local site conditions in
relation to the wishes of the future residents. This is the primary reason for
the unbroken popularity of freestanding houses.

From a psychological point of view, the freestanding house embodies the

"desire for one’s own patch of land" – the very quintessence of ownership.
Certain architectural elements represent this psychological feeling particular-
ly strongly, for example the fence or enclosure, the front garden, one’s own
front door and, more than anything else, space between oneself and one’s
neighbour. It is this space that guarantees the status of being independent,
of being singular and unique.

These are the primary elements that characterise this typology and account
for its ongoing popularity. In terms of floor plan typology, it is difficult to
verify what is or is not a freestanding house. One can identify different ca-
tegories of access, orientation and spatial organisation, but as these cate-
gories very often overlap or are manifested in different constellations, they
cannot serve as identifiable typological characteristics for a particular house
typology. The floor plans of freestanding houses exhibit few clearly repeating
patterns, differing more in terms of the degree of openness or enclosure of
rooms or zones. Here too, however, one encounters all manner of variants
across the entire scale, which are not distinctive enough to serve as distin-
guishing features.

Instead, one can only differentiate between different orders of magnitude

of freestanding houses: semi-detached houses, houses with communal stair-
case access and one or more units per floor, hybrid variants thereof, high-rise
buildings or combinations of individual houses. Within these freestanding
structures, different individual elements can relate to one another and gen-
erate synergies. The last and smallest sub-category of the freestanding house,

9
 the individual house that contains just one residential unit is, on account of
the fact that it exists alone, unable to generate such synergies. We have op-
ted not to include this last category in our overview as it does not represent a
sustainable option with regard to the development of the city. Furthermore,
an analytical examination of houses in this category shows that the reality
does not correspond to the image of the autonomous house outlined earlier.
The promise of living in an autonomous house turns out to be illusion.

Urban integration
Over the last decades building plots have become increasingly expensive as
land availability decreases and land development costs increase. As a con-
sequence, the patches of land on which to realise one’s dream of an own
home have grown successively smaller. The resulting disadvantages of the
single family home outweigh the advantages by far.

Because the plots are small, the individual houses stand so close to each
other that all that remains of private outdoor space is often only a green
dividing strip overlooked from all sides and entirely devoid of intimacy. Be-
cause public-sector land development has to be economically efficient, one
or other side of a plot may have a disadvantageous orientation with regard
to road noise or sunshine, depending on the side of access. The poor surface-
area-to-footprint ratio of single houses is also disadvantageous and makes it
difficult to achieve a good energy balance. In terms of spatial flexibility, too,
the individual house has its limitations: while it is possible to extend and add
to the house, it is virtually impossible to reduce it in size.

The detached house is also problematic, in terms of urban integration ne-

cessitating complex land development and settlement patterns. Depending
on the skill of the planner, some plots will be disadvantaged to a greater or
lesser degree. Plots may result that are only accessible from the south as well
as some with only a westerly or an easterly orientation. Overshadowing is a
further problem that is almost unavoidable when plots are excessively small.
The semi-detached house was born as a subcategory of the freestanding
house to remedy the lack of distance between plots. This type – a caricature
of the single family house – attempts to combine an element that by defini-
tion resists combination: the single family house is divided into two halves
that share their south-facing façade. Accordingly, the outdoor space also
needs to be divided, and even when the division is just a panel fence allow-
ing the southwest side to receive the evening sun while shading the south-
east side from midday onwards.

10
The problems of the single family house type and the urban structures it
produces are most certainly of a categorical nature. Accordingly, it is all the
more surprising that it continues to persist in the housing landscape. One
can only assume that, from the viewpoint of the individual homeowner, the
aforementioned advantages more than outweigh the urban disadvantages.
Theoretical approaches to reconciling this categorical discrepancy have been
devised but are few and far between.

The most radical idea can be attributed to Frank Lloyd Wright and his con-
cept for "Broadacre City".3 It combines expansive landscape with an ex-
tensive network of access roads and infrastructure, which in today’s terms
would seem excessive. This ideal has to date never been realised, not even
partially: rather than the pervasive greening of the city, it has instead long
become riddled with roadways – a development that ultimately leads to the
disintegration of the compact historical city and the gradual urbanisation of
the landscape.

Broadacre City, 1932, Frank Lloyd Wright

11
 Le Corbusier, too, examined the single house type in his "plan voisin",4 al-
though on an entirely different basis. From an ideological standpoint, his
concept is the exact opposite to Wright’s extensive concept. Corbusier pro-
poses freestanding buildings in the form of high-rise towers beneath which
the landscape can flow freely. This concept would also have led to the disin-
tegration of the city and fails to reconcile the categorical incompatibility be-
tween the psychology of the individual and the constraints of the collective.

"Plan voisin", 1925, Le Corbusier

To cut short further elaboration, no truly successful urban theories have been
founded on the building of single family houses, just as we have been equal-
ly unable to establish a theoretical definition for the typological variety of
the individual house in the city. It seems instead that the categories of urban
development and the detached single family house are mutually exclusive. In
the context of the city, single family houses are a "peripheral phenomenon".

Where, perhaps, individual houses offer most potential in the city is in loca-
tions where access is only possible from one side, for example, along rivers
or terraces in the landscape that offer a view. Individual buildings in the form
of freestanding multi-storey houses with apartments on each floor that look
out over the landscape afford as many units as possible the advantages of
freestanding structures.

12
The opportunity
At this point it should become clear that the key to the future of individual
housing lies in multiplication of the units. If we are able to stack the individ-
ual house in the third dimension and to combine several elements with one
another while simultaneously addressing the psychological needs answered
by the individual house, then a variety of options start to appear. In principle
the objective is quite simple: each unit needs its own entrance – no joint
staircases! Each unit needs its own front garden, perhaps also a garage of
its own and a garden fence. Each unit requires light from all sides and, of
course, a generous garden-like outdoor space that is not overlooked by one’s
neighbours.

Although the objectives may seem simple to formulate, they are highly com-
plex to realise. It necessitates the development of entirely new conceptual
structures for architecture, the alteration of existing building legislation and
the development of new aims and priorities for collective housing.

Rethinking access
Access structures play a central role in the development of new collect-
ive forms of housing. Previously we have concentrated on minimising the
amount of access and circulation space. The examples in the project section
of this volume show, however, that multiple means of accessing rooms and
units can produce greater spatial flexibility which, over the lifetime of the
building, may in fact be more economical. Furthermore, the additional vol-
ume required for the extended access possibilities can simultaneously be
used as a means of passive energy gain, in turn opening up other possibil-
ities. Spaces for interaction can result that double as additional means of
access, allowing these connecting spaces to be regarded as elements that
serve multiple functions.

Reconsidering the self-contained apartment

The emergence of self-contained apartments corresponded with the gradual
consolidation of stable living conditions in society in which the family unit
formed a constant basic unit. These conditions have long since changed.
Modern-day living circumstances have become increasingly changeable and
dynamic. The number and kind of partnerships change more often and re-
quire living environments that are able to respond to these new dynamics. As
such, self-contained, fixed-size apartments are no longer forward-looking. It
should be possible to join together residential units with minimal effort, and
to separate them again at a later point in time. A single building structure

13
 should be able to accommodate communal flats on the one hand and one-
person units on the other, as well as changing patterns of usage.
We need to reconsider our view of the single typology: a strategy that sees
the individual element not as a finite and insular unit grounded on a notion
of independence but as an element within a larger structure that relates the
elements specifically to one another, thereby increasing the degree of free-
dom of each individual element.

This idea is in principle not new. Structuralist thinking in the 1960s and
1970s, which developed as a reaction and in opposition to functionalist town
planning, already incorporated key principles of this strategy. Likewise, the
principle of cybernetics as a dynamic system of energy and information feed-
back after Norbert Wiener has already become part of architecture’s theo-
retical grounding (see the volume Row Houses, "Cybernetics: Integration of
type and topos")5. In the context of these ideas and a growing awareness of
climate change and its concomitant effect on energy efficiency in building, it
will be necessary to reappraise the typology of the single family house.

Revising planning laws and building regulations

Building regulations and particularly planning laws at an urban scale will
need to be revised in many areas. The complex subordination to building
legislation is the reason why very few examples of forward-looking, sustain-
able, freestanding houses have been built. For example, the ability to con-
nect together rooms in different constellations is fraught with legislative
difficulties with regard to the construction as well as tenancy regulations.
Similarly the notion of ownership in relation to land and property needs
redefining. If the development of urban building land is purely determined
by the speculative interests of individual investors, more complex structures
that can enter into mutual relationships with one another will not happen. It
is necessary to increase the density of building in some areas in order to free
up space elsewhere.

Reappraising the building envelope

The building envelope, too, needs to be reappraised as the prevailing notion
of economy and ecology is grounded on another definition of efficiency. In
this regard, the category of high-density individual housing, for example in
the form of a high-rise tower, offers great potential. Residential tower blocks
were frowned upon in the 1980s and condemned as urban mistakes. Given
the need for greater energy efficiency in inner-city structures, the potential
efficiency of high-rise structures should be reconsidered.

14
According to Brian Cody, "studies have shown that there is a direct relation-
ship between urban density and energy consumption due to transporta-
tion."6 And further, "if we accept and acknowledge that we need to in-
crease urban density in our cities as a vital component of their sustainable
development, then we will need to look at high-rise buildings and ascertain
whether or not they can cost-effectively increase urban density in a sustain-
able and acceptable manner."

If we look back through architectural history, we can find a number of exam-

ples of well-conceived high-rise buildings, ranging from van den Broek and
Bakema’s residential tower in Berlin (1960) to the legendary structural virtu-
osity of the Kanchanjunga tower by Charles Correa in Bombay (1970–83)
with its extraordinarily complex, spacious maisonettes.

If we add the aforementioned aspects to the energy argument, the current

attitude to high-rise buildings for residential purposes has to change. Never-
theless, there are also a series of further problems that need to be resolved.
While the quality of living in upper storeys is good in terms of illumination –
provided we live on the right side – wind loads at heights of over 50 metres
make natural ventilation and private outdoor spaces especially important but
difficult to realise. Beside the need for a different attitude to the cybernetic
principles of natural ventilation, this will also entail changes to the typology
of the high-rise.

The idea of supporting natural ventilation with an active climatic façade

leads inevitably to the conclusion that the façade cannot be large enough.
The old principles – optimising the surface area with respect to the volume –
have become obsolete. The climatically conscious, energy-efficient high-rise
for modern ways of living has yet to be invented – both typologically as well
as technically.

Outlook
The picture of the Black Forest farmhouse sketched earlier shows that highly
complex cybernetic structures can be realised. This is also possible in the
context of contemporary requirements. What is needed, however, is a shift
in the perception of the task at hand as well as a different architectural work-
ing method. If we are able to overcome the fixation with profitability, as
manifested through the ratio of gross floor area to living space, then it may
be possible to reach a new definition of sustainability as described earlier.

15
 Kanchanjunga tower, 1983, Charles Correa

16
The architectural working medium could be a design strategy that focuses on
the spaces in between. Just as we begin designing urban design plans from
the open spaces, the squares, street profiles and connecting paths, before
turning to the secondary aspect of building volumes, so we should develop
designs for housing from the spaces in between. As these begin to accom-
modate several functions at the same time, space that was "in between"
becomes "actual" space. In the language of the structuralists, that means:
not the element in itself but the way in which it is linked to its neighbouring
elements is the focus of this architectural strategy. In the same way that the
urban realm results from the way in which elements are linked to one an-
other, so too are different living options within the same volume the product
of interconnections. A decisive aspect is the dimensioning of the volumes in
terms of energy and the enlargement of the bounding or contact surfaces of
the individual elements so that they can contribute to the energy balance of
the house, both physically as well as psychologically. The underlying principle
of this form of architecture is the collection of energy at all levels, just as it
always was for the creation of the Black Forest farmhouse.

1 see Schilli, Hermann: Das Schwarzwaldhaus. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer 1953

2 see Thomas Sieverts: Cities without Cities. An Interpretation of the Zwischenstadt. Between
Place and World, Space and Time, Town and Country. New York: Routledge 2003
3 see Riley, Terence; Reed, Peter: Frank Lloyd Wright Architect. New York: Museum of Modern
Art 1994
4 see Curtis, William J. R.: Le Corbusier – Ideas and Forms. London: Phaidon 1987; Boesiger,
Willy; Stonorov, Oscar; Bill, Max (Ed.): Le Corbusier – Complete Works in 8 Volumes. Basel,
Boston, Berlin: Birkhäuser 2006
5 see also: Foerster, Heinz: KybernEthik. Berlin: Merve 1993; Wiener, Norbert: Cybernetics.
Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press 1948; Wiener, Norbert: The Human Use of Human Beings – Cy-
bernetics and Society. New York: Da Capo 1950; Wiener, Norbert: Futurum Exactum. Vienna:
Springer 2002
6 Cody, Brian: "Urban Design and Energy", in: GAM Architecture Magazine 05, 2008

17
 Floor plan types

The typology of freestanding houses is essentially determined by their prima-

ry means of circulation and access to the apartments. Because freestanding
buildings stand alone and can therefore face in all directions, spatial cate-
gories are less applicable. Accordingly, the scale can change considerably,
even within the same typological category. The basic premise of being able
to combine or reallocate spaces between individual units means that the
conventional single family house is excluded.

Semi-detached
While the conventional semi-detached house comprises just two parties, this
category is also used to describe projects with more than two parties where
each party has their own entrance at ground level and staircases within the
apartment as necessary. There is no communal staircase. The combination
and spatial structures of the "independent" units form a single compact
volume.

Communal staircase access

The basis of this typology is a communal staircase providing access to one
or more apartments per floor. The arrangement of the floor plan is inde-
pendent of the orientation of the building. Depending on the location of
an apartment in a floor, specific solutions may be necessary to maximise
illumination and orientation. The size of the apartments can vary, particularly
when there are several units on each floor.

Courtyard access
A central courtyard allows the main access zone to the apartments to be nat-
urally lit and provides a space for communication and interaction. Courtyard
access allows a larger number of apartments to be accessed on each floor
than with a staircase. Covered courtyards or atria can also be utilised as a
source of passive energy gain.

18
Hybrid
This typological category describes buildings that use a mixture or combi-
nation of different access systems to facilitate new spatial configurations.
A building may respond to the different possible needs and changing life
situations of the residents by providing different kinds of apartments. This
results in a more diverse range of apartment types.

High-rise
This building typology is characterised by the high demands its access system
has to fulfil and the comparatively large proportion of floor space used by
the structure. Special floor plan arrangements have to be devised to coun-
teract the problem of poor illumination in certain directions. A key feature of
this building type is the privileged view it affords.

19
Other documents randomly have
different content
 CHAPTER XI
NEARING THE END

There was no especial reason as far as I know for closing that last
chapter, and commencing a new one, except that it was getting too
long in my opinion. For the story I was telling was incomplete, I
having gone off at an unexpected angle on the question of food
supplies. However, I will now resume and say that the influx of work
I mentioned lasted for a fortnight, during the whole of which time I
can aver that, except on Sundays, I was never in bed after 3 a.m. or
before 11 p.m., and that I was often so weary on coming home from
the city with a load of moulding, that I would sit down on a chair in
the shop and be unable to rise for half an hour. But as I would not
allow myself to think about the future, or ask myself what was the
good of it all, I was not unhappy, and I was able to take a good deal
of pride in my work. And by the time the pressure slackened, I had
settled that wretched summons, had paid my rates, and a few other
immediate liabilities, besides being able to buy a few sorely needed
articles of clothing for the family.
There was however no lightening of the old burden of debt, and in
fact I realised that nothing short of a miracle would enable me to do
that. For if I got all the work I craved for I should surely break
down, while the utmost that I could earn would not do much more
than pay the heavy current expenses of the shop. Had I been able to
employ some help, it might have been better, but I don't know about
that. I had to do my own errands—I could not delegate my buying in
the city to anybody else, although it did entail such a heavy burden
upon me physically. Meanwhile I paid cash for everything I had,
though I did not pay anything of the bills already incurred.
In this connection I have an amusing recollection. The moulding
merchant with whom I dealt was an elderly German in a large way
of business, and I had always heard of him as a kindly old soul, but
had never come into personal contact with him. Now, however, I
owed him nearly £30, for which I had given a bill, and was
constantly renewing it; and, consequently, although I dealt with the
firm for all my mouldings, and paid cash, I dreaded meeting one of
the principals, and indeed slank in and out of the premises like a
thief. One day, however, I ran right into the old gentleman, who
looked at me keenly and said, "Ach, Meesder Boollen, aindt id?" I
humbly answered, "Yes, sir." "Yes, sir," he rather mockingly replied,
"now I haf peen in pizness here in London for more as tirty year,
andt I nefer ad a gustomer dot righdt me sooch nice ledders as you.
But you tondt send me no money, hein? I likes to read dose ledders,
dey vas very goot, but vy tondt you pay some money too, hein?"
I endeavoured to give him such reasons as I had, and he listened
carefully, saying when I had done, "Ach so! Vell, you pay ven you
can, undt tondt you go puying your mouldings someveres ellas mit
your ready money. Ve all haf droubles, undt ve get over 'em. You get
over yours somedime I hope, and den you pay your bill. Goodt
efening." And he turned and went into his office, while I went on
into the moulding shop with a warm feeling of gratitude to the kind
old man, and a firm determination that he should not suffer loss
through me if I could possibly help it.
Thenceforward I struggled on, sometimes feeling as if the waters
which were always about my chin would suddenly submerge me, but
compelled to go on. I often compared myself at this time to a man
running in front of a train, between two high walls, allowing of no
escape to either side, having no choice but to run or be run over.
Still I found solace in my books and newspapers, and relieved my
mind of some of its cares by taking an intense interest in political
matters as well as the open air propaganda of religion.
What I suppose will strike some people with amazement is the fact
that starting as an extreme radical, never a Home Ruler, I gradually
became utterly disgusted with the radical position. Full of admiration
for the socialism of Christ, I grew to detest the socialism that I saw
being practised by the noisy party in the vestry, and the doctrines I
heard preached by the socialists in the open air simply filled me with
dismay. For it was nothing else but the survival of the unfit and
incurably idle, the morally degenerate, at the expense of the fit, the
hard-working and ever-striving classes, an effort in short not to level
up, but to level down, a complete subversion of the golden rule of
do to all men as ye would they should do unto you. Get all you can
for yourself, and the devil take anybody else. Eat and drink all you
can at somebody else's expense, no matter who. Beget as many
children as you like, and let somebody else care for them. And so
on. Oh! it used to make me very sick and sorry, but I am glad to say
that in my preaching of what I felt to be right, I always had a most
sympathetic and respectful hearing; and I really do believe that the
detestable doctrines of loaferdom and savagery which masquerade
as socialism have very little hold upon the ordinary people of our
streets.
Another great solace of mine was an occasional chat with my fellow
shopkeepers, most of whom, like myself, had a severe struggle to
live. It makes me positively ill to hear the blatant cant that is talked
about the working man, meaning journeymen and labourers only.
The small London suburban shopkeeper toils far harder than any of
them, is preyed upon by them to an extent which must be incredible
to those who don't know, is taxed almost out of existence to support
them in the schemes continually being propounded for their benefit
by their representatives on the Borough Councils, and is quoted in
radical newspapers as the bitter enemy of the working classes.
I found them a kindly, genial, well-informed class of men, shrewd
and keen, as indeed they need be in order to live, and particularly
free from the petty vices of public-house loafing, betting, and bad
language, which are so peculiarly the characteristics of the "working
man." But the hardest hit of them all I think were the small grocers.
I knew two or three of them intimately, men whose lives were one
long grey grind of labour. Who could not live unless they opened
very early in the morning, before the big capitalist shops, such as
the Home and Colonial, Lipton's, etc., and kept open late at night for
the same reason. Even then they would not have been able to live
but for giving credit, which the big combinations do not allow their
employees to do. Many hundreds of families would come to the
workhouse long before they do, especially in hard winters, but for
these small tradesmen giving them credit for the bare necessities of
life, and thus tiding them over the pinching time. This system of first
aid can hardly be called philanthropy, since those who extend it do it
for a living, and yet in the multitudinous life of poor London it is a
huge and most important factor. Even the poor itinerant coal
merchant, who goes to the wharf and buys his coal by the ton, and
then retails it through the streets in small quantities from dawn to
dark, may be seen on Saturdays, the hardest day of all, when his
selling of coal is done, painfully dragging his weary way from door to
door, collecting the payment for the coal he has been vending on
credit all the week.
The costermonger, who has a regular pitch and regular customers,
competing with the tradesmen to whom he stands opposite in the
most unfair way, in that he has no rent, rates, or taxes to pay, will
give credit, and generously too, although he may often through a
bad week have to pay usurious interest in order to borrow the
money to go to market with. In fact all the small traders give credit,
for the reasons I have already stated. Of course, in this way much
very inferior stuff is got rid of, because it is certain that he who buys
on credit retail with either tradesman will have to pay higher prices
than for cash, or will have to put up with inferior goods, since it is
impossible to scrutinise too closely what you are receiving on credit
unless indeed you are of sufficient rank to make a tradesman glad to
serve you on any terms.
One great exception to the universal rule of credit is the publican.
Because his wares are a luxury, and the indulgence in them in many
cases prevents the payment of legitimate claims, money can always
be found for him much, to the other shopkeepers' disgust. So far is
this system of credit carried out that I have known men get their
ha'penny morning and evening paper on credit, and even take their
workman's ticket, which their news vendor kept a supply of for the
convenience of customers, with the casual remark, "Stony broke this
mornin', old man, pay you on Saturday." More fools they to allow it,
I hear some folks say, but such poor traders allow a good many
things to be done to them rather than get the name of being close-
fisted with their customers.
To return for a moment to the work of the small shopkeeper, take for
instance the butcher. He must needs go to market, no matter what
the weather may be, as early as three or four in the morning; he is
hard at work all day fully exposed to the weather, and on Saturday
must keep open until one o'clock on Sunday morning. In addition to
this in many neighbourhoods it is imperative for him to open again
on Sunday for a few hours in order to satisfy the demands of those
curious folk who will not do their marketing on Saturday while the
"houses" (public understood) are open, and when they close at
twelve o'clock are unfit for anything but quarrelling or reeling home
to bed. Hence Sunday trading with all its attendant evils and its cruel
strain upon the small tradesman.
I must confess, however, that although I sympathised so deeply with
all my shopkeeping associates, personally, I did not suffer as they
did. For my business being of a non-essential character it did not
greatly matter how late I opened my shop or how early I closed it.
That I had to carry my materials home from the city was due to the
facts of my position being so bad that I could not lay in a stock, and
partly because I found it cheaper and more convenient, if more
laborious, to buy my moulding as I got orders for frames. Another
thing I must say in justice to my customers, and in spite of the
reputation of the neighbourhood as impressed upon me when I
started in business there—I made practically no bad debts. Perhaps
that was partly due to the fact that people do not, in humble walks
of life that is, have pictures framed until they have the money ready
to pay for the work; and another thing, when I took work home, I
always waited for the money, for I always wanted it urgently.
Occasionally, it is true, I had a little difficulty with people who talked
grandiloquently of calling round in a day or two, and paying a bill of
a few shillings, or of sending a cheque, say, of seven and sixpence,
but they were exceedingly seldom. But I had many heart burnings
through the vagaries of a certain type of person who would come in
and waste hours of my time (and I noticed that these visits usually
occurred when I was urgently busy) examining mouldings and
getting estimates up to several pounds in value. After which they
vanished, and I never saw them again.
Once I was fairly victimised, though fortunately for only a small
amount, but I must plead that it took a long time. And as the story
is, in my opinion at any rate, exceedingly romantic, I may be
pardoned for telling it at length. In the course of business we had
made the acquaintance of a French lady, said to be a countess, and
through her we became intimate with her son and a lady from
Sweden reputed to be his wife. He was a pupil of Schubert, and an
exquisite violinist, and as I was always a great lover of music, and
he was exceedingly hospitable, we often went to his house, which
was close at hand in Melbourne Grove. There we met a truculent
individual, black-avised, as the old description runs, speaking a most
hideous travesty of English, and withal behaving as if he owned the
establishment. His name I never rightly knew, but it was nearly all
consonants I remember, and he was introduced to me as a Russian
prince who had taken a prominent part in the tragedy of Plevna, and
held the rank of Captain in the Preobrajensky Guards. Only a day or
two elapsed after my first meeting with this warrior when he
appeared in my shop, and endeavoured to tell me a wonderful tale
of a diamond necklace worth some thousands of pounds, the
property of a French lady of high rank. This splendid article had
been pawned for a large sum, and the ticket had nearly run out, but
if it were redeemed it could be repledged for a greatly increased
sum, and the kindly person who would advance the cash for this
transaction would make something like 200 per cent. for his
amiability. How I understood all this I do not know but I did, and
smiled sardonically at the idea of me being selected for the
operation, me! who never had any money except what I was in
immediate and pressing need of.
His highness seemed genuinely and pathetically surprised, also
somewhat incredulous, when I managed to convey to him the true
state of affairs concerning myself. I did not, however, trouble to tell
him that I felt absolutely bristling with caution towards him,
regarding him as the worst type of the Chevalier d'industrie I had
ever heard of. So he went away, but did not cease his visits to me,
sometimes flashing a pocketful of gold, sometimes without a sou. At
last he made his grand coup. He advertised in the French papers for
a valet to attend upon a Russian nobleman, who, as he had much
valuable jewellery, would require a deposit of £70 as security against
dishonesty. Then he took a house in East Dulwich Grove on a
twenty-one year lease, and entered into negotiations with a
furnishing company to fit it up. Of course he got his valet and his
security, with part of which he paid the first instalment of the
purchase of his furniture. Within a week he had sold every item of
that furniture, and leaving his hapless valet to starve in the empty
house, had departed to the wilds of Soho to lead a gay life as long
as the money lasted. For this was his peculiarity, stamping him
indubitably as one of the boys so graphically depicted by Mr Ernest
Binstead; he would lie, swindle, steal, do anything to obtain money,
sell the bed from under his dying mother, let us say, or worse than
that if it were possible, and when the money was in his possession
he would fling it broadcast with both hands as if he were lord of
millions.
He had hardly disappeared before a man came to me who gave me
his card, which described him as a diamond merchant. He told me a
pitiful story of how the vanished nobleman had victimised him in the
matter of a diamond necklace, at which I felt the corners of my
mouth relax as I thought "same old song and dance." In
consequence of the evil wrought in his accounts by this most
untoward transaction, he was under the painful necessity of raising a
loan on a bill of sale. His house was fairly well furnished, but—he
had no pictures. Now I knew what pictures were to a house and—by
the way—what a beautiful lot of engravings I had framed to be sure.
(I almost purred.) If I would only lend him a few just to hang on his
walls while the money-lender looked around, he would be glad to
pay me a pound for the accommodation, and I could have the
pictures back the next morning. Of course I wanted a pound very
badly, and I didn't see much risk, and the pictures had been in stock
so long that I didn't reckon them at more than £2. 10s. anyhow, so I
said, "All right, I'll bring them round in an hour's time." He thanked
me and left. He had not been gone more than five minutes, when a
neighbour who was a baker came in and asked me if that wasn't the
tenant of No. — East Dulwich Grove, who had just gone out. I said it
was, and gave an outline of the transaction just completed. My
neighbour quietly said that they owed him fifty bob for bread, and
he meant to have it, and left.
I took the pictures up and hung them. They looked very well, and
the family was loud in expressions of admiration. After many
assurances that I should have them back the next day, I left,
meeting on my way back my baker neighbour. He called on me
about two hours later, saying that he'd got his money, but only after
kicking up such a row that the respectable Grove was quite
scandalised, and even the paupers at the workhouse infirmary
opposite were interested. I only smiled, for I thought I understood.
When, however, I found an my arrival home next day that my
pictures had not been returned, and on calling round at the house
found it empty, I realised that in spite of all my confidence in my
own astuteness I had been done. Two days later, I saw my pictures
exposed for sale in a local pawnshop at a far higher price than I had
ever dared to ask for them. I had a chat with the pawnbroker on the
subject, and he seemed very much amused. I found it difficult to
understand why then, although it is clearer to me now.
I also had a visit once from a certain notorious adventuress, whose
alias was, I believe, Mrs Gordon. She made quite a lot of interesting
copy for the newspapers about that time, and her picture was
published in various journals. But her plan for getting something out
of me was not very ingenious, at any rate I easily evaded it, and
took considerable credit to myself for my cleverness in doing so.
Taking things all round, however, I was very fortunate in not being
victimised to any extent, for there is a large number of ingenious
folk going about London whose business it is to entrap unwary
tradesmen who deal in goods which may be easily disposed of for a
trifle of ready money. Dealers in perishable commodities, such as
butchers, bakers, grocers, or green-grocers, are tolerably safe from
the attentions of these gentry, but jewellers, furniture dealers,
picture dealers, etc., are particularly liable to be preyed upon, as I
found, and indeed my poverty was several times my only protection.
I could not fall into their traps, because I wanted money on account,
which they never had.
Now, strange as it may seem, I really did build up a fairly good
reputation in the neighbourhood as a picture-framer of taste and
punctuality, but owing to the fact that I could not wait upon
customers at all hours, could not, that is, attend to both businesses
at once, I was unable to do well. And then there is for suburban
picture-framers a distinctly slack season which extends from June
until November. Then when people are saving for their holidays,
enjoying them or recovering from them, the poor maker of frames
may as well close his shop unless he has other strings to his bow.
The expenses still go on, rent must be paid, gas bills met, etc., but
my takings averaged five shillings a week.
At one of these periods, having received an invitation from a distant
relative in the wilds of Wiltshire to spend a fortnight down there at
an inclusive cost which was less than I must have spent had I
remained at home, I decided to go away. On leaving I pasted a
notice on the shutters: "Gone for a much needed holiday, return on
the 25th of August.—F. T. Bullen." When I did return, I was greeted
by all my shopkeeping neighbours with sardonic surprise, not
unmixed with scorn. They all said they never thought to see me
again, having fully expected that I had "done a guy," as they
inelegantly put it, and several hinted rather plainly that they
considered me a fool for ever coming back; which went to show very
clearly that they knew as well as I did myself that I was in
difficulties. Indeed in a small community such as ours was, it was
not possible to conceal one's straits any more than it would be in a
little country town. I have no doubt that every one of my neighbours
knew how few were the customers that came into my shop as well
as they knew what the expenses of the shop were, in fact, as they
put it frequently to one another, I kept the shop, the shop didn't
keep me.
Yes, everything seemed to trend downwards towards a place of the
depth of which I had no conception. Every fresh run of orders at the
rare intervals when they did arrive, only seemed to stave off the evil
day which would surely come, and it is not putting the matter one
whit too strongly to say that I had lost all hope of ever doing any
good for myself and family. Neither did I see how I was going to get
rid of what had come to be a perfectly diabolical burden, the shop.
Despite all my efforts I got deeper and deeper into debt, and among
other things the crushing load of the rates, then going up by leaps
and bounds, owing to the socialistic tendency of the local
authorities, made me feel peculiarly bitter; especially when I saw the
troops of able-bodied men slouching about the workhouse recreation
grounds.
 CHAPTER XII
TOWARDS CAREY STREET

A keen sense of humour is one of my richest blessings, one that I

prize more than I can tell, but never before have I felt so keenly the
great desirability of being able to express myself humorously in
writing. For this narrative of mine, drab in all its essentials, tends
ever to more gloom. There were touches of humour in my life, for I
know that I often had a hearty laugh, but I remember too that this
healthful exercise was usually after I had gone to bed, and was
reading one of my favourite books for perhaps the twentieth time.
But I am bound to say that any relief to the gloom of my daily life
except on Sundays, the delights of which I have spoken before, was
almost entirely wanting. I could, I dare say, introduce a few
humorous touches occasionally, for which the reader would be duly
grateful, but it would be at the expense of truth, and anyhow it
would be of a saturnine character if it were drawn from my
experience of every day life.
Take, for instance, a scene which I witnessed on Saturday night late,
outside the East Dulwich Hotel, at the corner of Goose Green. It had
been raining for a long time, and the streets were in an exceedingly
bad state. Just there, however, some attempt had been made earlier
in the day to sweep them, and in consequence the kennel on both
sides was full of liquid mud, had become in fact a creek of mud a
yard wide and several inches deep. I was taking some pictures home
during a slight break in the weather, and rounding this corner I saw
two men, both of whom were drunk, amicably endeavouring to take
one another home. They staggered about a good deal, getting
nearer and nearer the kerb, until one of them slipped down, and the
other, endeavouring to raise him, rolled over on the top of him.
Locked in a close embrace, and making no sound, they rolled into
the kennel; while I, the solitary spectator, helpless by reason of my
burden, became doubly so because of a perfect agony of laughter.
Like hippopotami they wallowed in the viscid stream, and at last
emerged on the farther side, as Mrs Gamp would say, a marks of
mud, but still horizontal. They rolled right across the road, which
was fairly wide, and into the creek of mud on the other side where,
with their heads on the kerb, they rested from their arduous journey
apparently full of peace. A policeman and a little knot of spectators
had by this time arrived, and much discussion, punctuated with
shouts of laughter, went on as to what should be done with and for
them. What was done eventually I do not know, for I had to fulfil my
errand, aching all over with my paroxysms of laughter. Yet as the
boys say when they are the victims, "I don't see anything to laugh
at."
This digression is of malice aforethought, because I cannot help
feeling that readers will say "I wish Bullen wouldn't so persistently
sue for our sympathy. Surely he must have had some good times."
And that is the worst of the simple annals of the poor; they are
deeply interesting of course to the protagonists, but are apt to
become wearisome in the recital, because, as the Irishman said of
his wife, they are all worse and no better. However I went on,
doggedly, hopelessly, not because I was a brave man struggling with
adversity, but because as far as my limited intelligence went I
couldn't do anything else. Several people, one of whom most
generously helped me over a tremendously difficult stile, suggested
bankruptcy as being the obvious way out of all my troubles, but that
I felt was impossible. True, I was a bankrupt de facto but not de
jure, and I believed that if I did become a bankrupt in law, I should
lose my last hope of earning a living, my job at the office. So I ruled
that suggestion out as impracticable, for supposing I did lose my
job, it was no figure of speech to call it my last hope. I was rapidly
nearing forty, my own profession was irrevocably closed to me even
if the state of my health would have allowed me to take it up again,
and as for my other employment, with thousands of abler, younger
men clamouring for it, what possible prospect had I? and I had a
wife and five young children! I will not say that I was absolutely
friendless, but the two or three faithful friends I had were powerless
to help me except in a desperate emergency, and at a great personal
sacrifice then. As a dear friend said to me the other day, while we
were discussing the condition of a mutual friend who had become
the victim of a most serious misfortune absolutely without fault of
his own: "There is nothing more heart-breaking than to have a
friend who is what the Spaniards call gastados, used up, no more
good in this pushing world. You can't keep him, you can't ask
anybody else to keep him, and in spite of yourself, with the best will
in the world, you get tired of his incessant appeals for help, however
piteous and sincere."
Is that not so? and all the more sad when it is the result of
misfortune and not of indolence or vice. However I did not allow
myself to think, for fear I should lose my power of sleep, which I
knew would be fatal. I dared not open my letters, the postman's
knock sent a clutching pang through the pit of my stomach, and if it
had not been for my Sundays, with their entire switch off from the
terrors of every day life, I feel sure I should have gone mad. It was
at this juncture that I began to write. Leaning over the counter in
the empty shop I covered page after page with neat clerkly script,
an exercise I always loved, narrating my early experiences at sea. It
was a delightful relief, and as such I enjoyed it, but if I ever had any
wild dreams about publishing what I was writing they did not last,
for when I had written about forty thousand words I put the MS.
away and forgot all about it. Finally I threw it in the dustbin, which
was a pity, for I daresay it was quite as good as anything I have ever
done in the same way since.
Meanwhile matters plodded towards that destined end which I felt
was inevitable, but would not realise. I got into more difficulties with
my landlord. The state of the house was simply disgraceful, and he
would do nothing. Then all of us got sore throats, and the doctor
said bluntly, "It's of no use my attending you unless you have these
drains seen to; they are a grave danger to anybody's health who
comes into your shop!" Thus admonished I again approached my
landlord, who sent a man to put two dabs of mortar upon the soil-
pipe at the back of the house. Then in despair I wrote to the vestry,
and very promptly their surveyor appeared. He condemned not
merely my drains, but those of the whole row of houses in which my
house stood. And then there was a pretty fine how d'ye do, I can tell
you. My premises were all ripped up at the back to get at the drains,
which of course were under the foundations, and when everything
was in a state of chaos the operations mysteriously ceased. Rats
invaded the house and devoured our small stock of provisions, until I
took to hanging them up as we used to do on board ship. I wrote
piteous letters to the vestry, imploring them for mercy's sake to
finish the job, but they took no notice and kept on doing so.
Then I made a bold stroke. I wrote to the Local Government Board,
placing the whole facts before them. Talk about red tape and
bureaucracy! Never have I dreamed of such celerity. Within forty-
eight hours the work was completed, and I received from Whitehall
a copy of an indignant letter from the vestry denouncing my
complaint, as the work in question was done. I never before realised
how efficient a public department might be in the proper hands.
Those drains of mine had been open for three weeks, and there had
been absolutely no response to my repeated applications to have the
work done, when I took the step I have detailed.
This little affair cost my landlord (so he said) £25, a large sum for a
man in his position, and this did not improve our relations, as might
be supposed. But I hardly thought he would go to the length he did.
It is customary for such tenants as I was to take a few days' grace
for payment of the quarter's rent, which varies from one week to six
according to the disposition of the landlord, and the circumstances
of the tenant. Naturally I took as long as I could, and as long as I
paid within a month was usually considered a good payer. With this
landlord, however, I had to be very careful, especially after his last
feat. Still I was not prepared to find, as I did on coming home on the
evening of quarter day, three bailiffs in my humble abode. One was
an emissary of the landlord's, whose rent was only due at twelve
that day; one was for the inhabited house-duty, a trifling matter of a
pound, including landlord's property tax; and one was from some
other creditor whose claim I had overlooked. The total amount with
costs of all their claims amounted to a little less than £20.
I confess that unable as I generally was to extract any fun out of my
troubles, this time was an exception. As I was introduced to each of
my uninvited guests in turn, and heard their claims, I was suddenly
seized with the humour of the situation, and laughed until I was fain
to hold on to the counter, or I should have fallen down. My wife
stood at the door of the shop parlour looking most anxiously at me,
for she thought, as she afterwards told me, that my brain had given
way at last, while the three bums looked at me, and at one another
in an undecided irresolute fashion, which only made me laugh all the
more. However, I gradually recovered, and then said, "Well,
gentlemen, I am sorry for you if you have decided to remain here,
for I can neither feed you nor give you a shake-down. So you'll have
but a poor time of it. I can't possibly get any money until to-morrow,
and I am doubtful if I can get much then. However, that's not the
point. Do the best you can. I've got some work to get on with," and
I mounted to my workshop and started.
Before many minutes two of them decided to go home for the night,
having delegated their authority to the third, who as soon as their
backs were turned came up to me and said, that if I could give him
a couple of shillings he would go too, he didn't want to put me to
any trouble. I told him candidly I should have been glad to comply
with his request, but as all the money I had was sixpence, I must
forego the pleasure. He sighed, and then after exacting a promise
that I would let him in next morning, departed also, leaving me free
to get on with my work. He had not been gone many minutes when
I heard my chum Bob's musical whistle below, and immediately he
came bounding up, having heard the news across at the library of
my having a house full of bums. He could only sympathise, but
rejoiced to find me in such good spirits, was surprised also, but not
more so than myself. He left a couple of shillings, with the desire
that I would make one of my famous curries against the time he
closed the library, when we would have supper together.
I readily agreed and hurried up with my job in order to get at my
cookery, for indeed these little chance meals which I was in the habit
of preparing, when there were funds, were exceedingly pleasant to
me, to my family, and to Bob, who was a frequent sharer of them. I
am afraid they bore a strong family likeness to the celebrated
symposia indulged in by Mr Micawber and his family with David
Copperfield as only guest, but I can honestly say that I never
pawned or sold any household goods to procure them, as the
immortal Micawber did. At any rate on this particular occasion I
know that, thanks to Bob's two shillings, we had a gorgeous supper
of curried skirt and kidney, with potatoes and rice; the scent of
which, as Bob said when coming in at 10.30, was enough to make a
dead man sit up and ask for some.
His genial company and the good meal sufficed to keep the black
shadow away long enough for me to get to sleep, but as soon as I
awakened in the morning it was beside me with all its terrors. In my
emergency I bethought me of a certain money-lender who, upon a
previous application to him, had informed me that he would willingly
lend me £20 if I found a good surety, and would take repayment at
the rate of £2 per month for twelve months. I did not accept then,
because I could not bring myself to ask anyone whom I knew to do
anything I would not do myself, viz., become surety for another. But
now I was desperate, and I remembered an acquaintance who,
though his salary was good, was for some reason or another
chronically hard up. He, I felt sure, would be my surety if I could
spare him a little of the loan. Utterly immoral, even dishonest and
without excuse, of course, and I am going to offer none—I only set
down the facts.
Upon broaching the matter to him, I found him not only willing but
eager, for he himself was in urgent need of £3, and I could spare
him that out of £25, the amount I proposed borrowing. So at lunch-
time we sallied forth, finding our, what shall I call him, banker? in,
and ready to oblige. Indeed it was fatally easy, and I was absurdly
grateful, quite forgetting for the time the other gentleman in the
Adelphi to whom I had to pay £1 every month as interest on a loan
of £10. I handed over the £3 to my friend in need, and at five
o'clock hurried home to find my three visitors ranged along the
counter in the shop. In a lordly manner I paid them off, took their
receipts, and we parted on the best of terms.
My amiability to the agent, however, did not extend to my landlord. I
felt his behaviour to me very, very villainous, especially remembering
the wretched state of the premises for which I paid him rent under
his solemn agreement to keep them in habitable repair. The rain
came through the roof so copiously, that I had to keep tubs up in
the top rooms to prevent the whole house from becoming swamped.
The ceilings were falling down, and the huge cistern supported upon
brick piers in the kitchen was leaking to such an extent that it
threatened daily to collapse and flood us out. So I resolved, as this
was the last quarter of my three years' agreement, to remove before
quarter day, and to refuse to pay him any rent, as a set off against
the condition of the premises he had compelled me to live in so
long.
A shop nearly opposite had become vacant by reason of fire which
had gutted the whole house, but it had been restored to its original
condition, or something resembling it, and I took it. I did not blazon
my intention abroad, believing that my few regular customers would
easily find me, but I passed the word around among my
acquaintances, and I make no doubt at all that my present landlord
knew of my intentions perfectly. But he was powerless to prevent me
going. Indeed, I believe that the privilege of leaving the house you
hold before quarter day without fear of distraint for rent is about the
only one possessed by the poor tenant, who is otherwise entirely at
the mercy of his landlord. However, my landlord made no sign, while
as the time approached I made all preparations for flitting. At night,
after closing time, my chum Bob, to whom all violent exercises were
a joy, used to come over and assist me in the transference of my
goods from one house to the other, until we were fairly well fixed in
the new abode, with the exception of our absolute necessaries, such
as bedding, cooking utensils, etc.
On the last night, that is the 20th of the month, we worked like
beavers, getting bedsteads across and put up so that the family
might move in and be comfortable. Fortunately it was fine, for we
had left the heaviest things, the piano and two counters, until the
last. We got the two counters over without much difficulty, and then
at nearly 1 a.m. we tackled the piano. We wheeled it out and along
the pavement until it was opposite the new home, then lifting it into
the roadway we tried to wheel it across, on its own castors of
course. But it was heavy going, and in the middle of the road we
stopped for breath and to wipe our brows. Suddenly a light beamed
across us, and a gruff voice said, "Now then, what's this ere little
game?" We both looked up, and there stood a huge policeman, who
had come up all silently in his rubber-soled boots, and was shedding
the light of his bull's eye on the scene. For some idiotic reason or
another, I burst into yells of laughter, Bob joined in, and the
policeman followed suit. Just three idiots I suppose. But it was a
quaint scene at one in the morning, in the middle of Lordship Lane.
As soon as we could speak, we explained the situation to him; and
he, bless him for a good fellow, saw it in the right light, pulled off his
heavy coat, and lent a hearty hand, so that the piano was installed
in the new premises in a very short time. Fortunately we had a little
liquid refreshment to offer him, which he accepted in a becoming
spirit, and then said, "Well, boys, I must get around before my
sergeant turns up—he won't understand who I am with my coat off."
And so with hearty good wishes all round we parted.
I had a busy week following, for of necessity I had to do everything
that needed doing to the shop with my own hands, save what Bob
did in the precious hours of his leisure after ten, which he so
willingly devoted to my service. And I managed to spend a sovereign
for the fascia, which was done by a man who was so drunk that he
could not stand on the solid earth, but balanced himself upon a
precarious plank stretched between two high trestles in front of the
shop, and splashed in the letters in magnificent style. I did not
watch him, for I fully expected to see him dashed to death upon the
pavement at any moment; but when on his coming for his money I
went out and surveyed his handiwork, I paid him without a word, for
indeed there was absolutely no fault to find.
But I had hardly settled in this new shop than my troubles with
regard to the building commenced, and threatened to surpass my
experiences across the road. Hardly a piece of furniture could be
moved upstairs without bringing some of the ceilings down, and
such easily scamped places as pantries and cupboards were de-
ceiled en bloc. The first really serious matter, however, which
showed me that I had in no way bettered my position arose through
the frost. I cannot fix the year properly, but it was when the frost set
in some time at the end of January, and lasted until nearly June. I
saw with a certain complacency my neighbours carrying water into
their homes from standpipes in the streets, while my supply was
intact and working well. And then with dramatic suddenness the
supply-pipe from the main which ran underneath the pavement into
my house burst asunder, and the water welled up through the
flagstones, making a glare of ice all over the footway, which was a
great danger to the passers-by.
I was immediately summoned by the Water Company on the one
hand, and by the vestry on the other, to make this breakage good.
With cheerful confidence I turned these demands over to my
landlord, never doubting in the first place that it was his duty to
repair this damage, and in the next that he would instantly perform
that duty. It was a heavy blow to me when I received a curt note
from him to the effect that it was no business of his, and that I could
do what I chose in the matter. As if I had any choice. And so I had
to call in labourers and plumbers to the tune of nearly £3, which
outlay moreover did not result in my water-supply being resumed.
But the shock I then received was a lasting one, for I realised that
these new premises of mine bade fair to become worse than the old
ones. They had been renovated after the fire by contract in the
flimsiest and most casual way, and scarcely a day passed but some
new defect discovered itself, until I really was afraid that the building
would collapse about my ears.
Meanwhile my old landlord lost no time in putting the law's
machinery in motion against me. He summoned me for two quarters'
rent, one being in lieu of notice and a trifle of £10 for dilapidations
caused to his premises by my neglect. Strong in my belief that I was
legally justified in leaving uninhabitable premises as I did, I
determined to fight, and in due time I appeared before Judge
Emden at the Cottage Ornée. Of course I conducted my own case,
and equally of course my creditor employed a solicitor. But I lost
nothing by that, for I found his honour most kind and impartial. Only
when I exhibited my defence explaining the condition of the
premises, and asking the Judge whether I was compelled to remain
in a house which was in so parlous a state, he replied in words
which I can never forget: "You are not compelled to remain in such a
house, you may leave before the expiration of your term, but you
must pay the rent—that is the law."
Then, of course, I could only express my sorrow at having built upon
so insecure a foundation, and explaining my circumstances asked for
time to pay. The judge asked me what offer I could make, and I
immediately said that it was impossible for me to promise more than
a pound a month, which indeed it was, for at this time nearly all my
office pay was eaten up by these monthly payments, and my means
of living were intensely precarious. But the solicitor to the landlord in
a white heat of indignation put on for the purpose, pictured me as
rolling in wealth, enjoying a bloated official salary, and having a fine
business in addition, so that it was the barest justice that I should be
ordered to pay forthwith.
To my great joy the judge replied with sternness that he believed I
had made an exceedingly fair and honest offer under the
circumstances, and that if my offer were not accepted immediately
he should exercise his own discretion as to what terms he should
consider reasonable, and it was quite possible that he would make
no order at all. This was sufficient for my opponent, one pound a
month was accepted, and, as they say in the House of Lords, the
matter then dropped.
 CHAPTER XIII
COLLAPSE

It must not be supposed that in other directions my affairs had got

any smoother as time went on; nor that, although I worked as hard
as flesh and blood would permit, that I succeeded in overtaking any
of my liabilities. Moreover, I began to receive unmistakable warnings
that my physical capacity was becoming unequal to the constant
strain I put upon it, although I only knew that my morning cough
was more exhausting than it had been, and that I always awoke in
the morning feeling dreadfully tired, much more so indeed than
when I went to bed. And always I found myself unable to keep up
those terribly punctual monthly payments, and trying to discriminate
between people who would be put off and people who wouldn't.
The first immediately unpleasant result of this discrimination or
attempted preference was in connection with my latter loan. Now
please understand that I am bringing no indictment against the
money-lender, or mean anything opprobrious in speaking of him in
that way. If he had lent me thousands instead of single pounds, he
would have been a banker, and if I had wanted his money for
speculation instead of to pay my rent and get my family food, I
should have been a financier to be esteemed instead of being a
borrower to be despised. I am only, however, concerned with the
plain facts now, and they are that I sent a polite letter of apology to
the money-lender, telling him that—oh well, you can imagine the
kind of things a defaulting debtor would say—but the whole
comprising just an ordinary letter of excuse for non-payment.
To this effusion I received no reply whatever, but two days
afterwards my surety came rushing to me in a state of great
agitation, flourishing a telegram which he had just received from his
wife, to the effect that a man had been put in possession of their
furniture in default of my payment of an instalment of the loan.
Desperately he demanded of me what I meant by such behaviour,
and tearfully assured me that such an experience had never been his
before, in which I have reason to believe he was not within the
parallel lines of fact. I was as stunned as he, and promised every
reparation in my power, while I knew that nothing short of that
instalment would avail. So I immediately obtained leave of absence,
and went a-borrowing, a frequent exercise alas, but one which I
never practised without a sense of poignant shame, preventing me
from degenerating into the common species of "earbiter," as he is
vulgarly called, of the Montague Tigg type.
Miraculously, as I think, I succeeded in borrowing the £3 required,
on my faithful promise to repay at the end of the month, from a man
who was as poor as I, but more methodical, and had put it away
towards his rent. Let me say before I go any further, that I did not
abuse his trust, nor did I ever do so to anybody except in the single
case of my surety, which I was now engaged in repairing. I hope I
do not put this forward in a spirit of offensive or aggressive virtue,
but I do want to disavow any association with that rotten type of
man who will promise anything to get your money, will, having got
it, squander it, and then ridicule you for being such a fool as to lend
to him, of all people in the world. This type I am glad to say is
usually of the "sporting" breed of "boys," and has no relation to
decent beings.
With my delayed instalment and my friend's freedom in my hand, I
hied me unto the ancient capitalist at Victoria. I made no complaint,
for indeed I had no ground. He made no apology, but received my
money (I beg pardon, his money) with dignity, saying that he was
glad the matter was so speedily arranged, because the aggressive
process involved a lot of trouble which he hated. But business was
business, and a bargain was a bargain, as he hoped I knew well,
and—he hoped the weather would continue fine, being indeed very
seasonable for the time of the year. And so we parted, I certainly
feeling truly ashamed at having put this good old man to so much
unnecessary trouble, my friend to indignity, and myself to so many
superfluous blushes.
And as if to compensate me in some measure for what was in truth
a heavy day, I found on my arrival home quite a nice order awaiting
me. A gentleman of that fine class, the commercial traveller, who
had often patronised me before, came in and ordered four pounds
worth of pictures, paying as was his wont the money for them upon
giving the order, and telling me that I could deliver them any time
within the month. By great good fortune I had everything necessary
to carry out the order in stock, and as soon as he was gone, I set to
work with a glad heart. For I was like a cork, easily depressed, but
popping up again serenely as soon as the pressure was removed.
However, I could not be allowed even that small interregnum of
peace, for at about ten a man came in with some inquiry about my
charges for framing. I paid as much attention as I always did to his
questions, but unfortunately had to leave him in the shop for a few
minutes, while I went into my workshop. When I returned he was
gone, and so was my glass-cutting diamond, which was lying upon
the baize-covered table on which I cut my glass.
It was a heavy loss to me, for I had got used to its cut, and although
its price was only 12s. 6d. I never had another that I could use
properly, not being at all expert anyhow. I will not deny that this
made me feel very unhappy, for when there was so much lying
around stealable that would never be missed, I did feel it hard that a
fellow should come in and steal my principal tool, for which at the
outside he would only be able to realise about three and sixpence in
pawn. Still I suppose I ought to be thankful that this was the sole
theft I suffered from in all my business career, only somehow the
present loss was so great that I was very grieved over it, and
moreover I had to send to a local glass-cutter, with whom I was not
on any the best terms on account of being a trade rival, for some
squares of glass in order to complete my contract in time.
About this month I managed to get a little extra money in a way that
seems fantastic, but which came to me as a very welcome addition
to my spasmodic earnings. A young gentleman who had been an
occasional customer came to me one evening, when I was trying to
hammer out an article or story on the counter for want of something
more immediately profitable to do, and asked me if I had any
objection to model for him. I did not recognise the verb in its
present application, and begged him to explain. It then appeared
that he was an artist who earned most of his living by illustrating
magazines, articles, and stories, and being extremely conscientious,
he needed the living model so that his pictures should be
vraisembleable as possible. But the professional model was not to be
found in East Dulwich, and so in his extremity he thought of me as a
man probably eager to earn an honest shilling in whatsoever strange
ways.
After a few enquiries I closed with his offer of one and sixpence per
hour (always very generously interpreted), and promised to come up
to his house as soon as I had closed the shop, or say about 10.30
P.M. I went, and laid the foundation of a friendship that still endures,
the artist in question having illustrated several of my books and done
so, in my poor opinion, better than any other living artist could have
done. But I am getting on too fast.
It must be remembered that as yet I had no experience of
"modelling," knew absolutely nothing of what it meant to stand for
half an hour in one position, and in parenthesis I may say that I
never learned well. But I did my best, and my employer was pleased
to say that my intelligent appreciation of what he wanted was much
more useful to him than would have been the trained immobility of
any professional model. But oh! how I suffered. I thought I knew
what hard work, what endurance was. I got a severe shock. In
justice to myself I must ask my readers to remember that I had
been up since 6 A.M., and it was now nearly midnight, and that even
if I had not been using my thews and sinews all that time I had
been up and about. Anyhow I know that after striking an attitude
which satisfied my employer and maintaining it for say seven or
eight minutes, I felt as if I was in some infernal torture chamber, and
though very anxious to earn my money and to win approval I had to
give in.
But my employer was kindness itself, and though naturally intensely
anxious to carry out his ideas, he never took the slightest advantage
of my position, or insisted upon any pound of flesh. So far from that,
and I cannot tell what it meant to me then, as soon as my time was
up I was invited to a good supper, which his charming wife had
prepared, and at which I was made to feel a welcome guest, with no
thought of that hardly earned eighteen pence in the background.
How much this kindly intercourse helped me I have no means of
knowing, but the impression it made upon me at the time is no
keener than the sense I have now of how kind it was; and I have
been an honoured guest in that friend's house for the last ten years.
This seems, in these desultory confessions, a right and fitting place
to set forth the fact that in many of my customers I found friends.
By which I mean people who think about you, who would take
trouble for you, or would make sacrifices to help you, who grieve
over your misfortunes and rejoice when you are doing well. And how
precious they are. I have always been a great stickler for the proper
definitions of words such as Freedom, Love, Friendship, Truth; and I
do wish people would not lightly talk of friends when they only mean
some casual acquaintance who knows little of them and cares less. I
can frankly assert that the only pleasant recollections I have of my
shop-keeping days, connected with business that is, are associated
with the many kindly folks whom I served. Of course my particular
business lent itself to closer relations with customers than ordinary
shop-keeping, since I had to discuss their desires with them, and
give them the benefit of my experience. The one drawback attached
to this was that I often spent three or four times as long discussing
a trifling order as it was worth; but that was counterbalanced by my
sometimes getting a big order with a very small amount of talk.
It did occasionally happen that I, as the Yankees happily and
metaphorically put it, struck a snag even in this, and one glaring
instance lingers luridly in my memory. A neighbouring tradesman,
with whom I was on most friendly terms, very kindly gave me an
introduction to a well-to-do customer of his at Tulse Hill. My friend
was a builder and decorator, and had done a great deal of work for
this gentleman, to their mutual satisfaction. So when, one day, his
customer asked him about getting some old English frames regilded
he recommended me, and did not, in ordinary business fashion,
stipulate that he should have a commission upon the transaction.
Cheered by my friend's description of his customer, I waited upon
the latter, and was received in the most jolly fashion as a guest, and
not in any patronising spirit, refreshments being produced and some
pleasant general talk ensuing. I was then shown the work and asked
for an estimate. This I gave after close calculation, and with due
consideration of the fact that my customer had probably obtained
other estimates before asking for mine.
But to my intense amazement, the gentleman, upon hearing the
sum named, immediately said that he could get the work done in the
best style for just one quarter of the sum I had named! Now there
was nothing for me to do but give him the lie direct had I obeyed my
first impulse. But I stifled it, and mildly said that such a price as he
had quoted meant gilding with German metal, as the quantity of
gold leaf required to cover those frames would cost three times the
sum. He, of course, said that he didn't know anything about that,
the price given him by a gilder in the Minories was for English gold. I
then rose to go, saying that I regretted not being able to go further
in the matter. He then said he did not want to disappoint me, and
what was the lowest I could do the job for? I replied quietly that I
had quoted the lowest possible price for regilding, and one that was
less than half what would be demanded by a big West End firm, but
that if he cared to have the frames renovated and touched up where
necessary I could meet him with an estimate of half the first amount
quoted, but explaining fully that this would be in no sense regilding.
After a lot of talk he agreed, and I undertook the work.
My kindly gilder, for I could not do the work myself, never having
been able to master the delicacy of touch required in this
Welcome to our website – the ideal destination for book lovers and
knowledge seekers. With a mission to inspire endlessly, we offer a
vast collection of books, ranging from classic literary works to
specialized publications, self-development books, and children's
literature. Each book is a new journey of discovery, expanding
knowledge and enriching the soul of the reade

Our website is not just a platform for buying books, but a bridge
connecting readers to the timeless values of culture and wisdom. With
an elegant, user-friendly interface and an intelligent search system,
we are committed to providing a quick and convenient shopping
experience. Additionally, our special promotions and home delivery
services ensure that you save time and fully enjoy the joy of reading.

Let us accompany you on the journey of exploring knowledge and

personal growth!

ebookultra.com