.
HOLDER TOWER
AND
THE NEW DINING HALLS
I'RINCFTON UNIVERSITY
1.
tl. J.
Miv.ffu~ ' I .
. |C
THK TO\VI.R. DINING ROOM. AND K.ITCHICX ACROSS THK LITTI.K COURT.
HOLDER TOWER
and the
NEW DINING-HALLS
of
PRINCETON UNIVERSITY
DAY AND KLAUDER, Architects
With an appreciation by
RALPH ADAMS CRAM
i
Illustrated with many Plates and the Architects' Drawings
Reprinted from ARCHITECTURE
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, Publishers
Fifth Avenue at 48th Street - New York
MCMXVIII
Copyright
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
Published April, 1918
L.D
LIBRARY
737584
UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO
HOLDER AND THE HALLS
HOLDER AND THE HALLS
North and east sides of Holder Quadrangle.
An Appreciation
By Ralph Adams Cram
IN this great group of collegiate buildings at Princeton
Holder Hall and the University Dining Halls Messrs.
Day and Klauder reach the highest point thus far in their
authoritative interpretation of Gothic as a living style. It
is impossible in the light of this, one of the most distinguished
architectural creations in America, for any captious critic,
however Parisian or modernist he may be, to allege that the
Gothic of England, so interpreted, is either lacking in vi-
tality or in essential beauty. I should say that this quality
of abounding life was the most distinguishing mark of these
buildings, though uncompromising beauty presses it close.
In comparison the Americanized Renaissance of France
seems artificial and affected, the Americanized Renaissance
of Italy archaeological and lifeless.
Here we have the spirit of Gothic without dull copying,
the vivid stimulus of the subconscious historic sense with-
out archa;ological imitations. And the logic of articulation,
the pure and varied beauty that characterized the Gothic of
old, are preserved intact and even, at least so far as beauty
is concerned, intensified and raised to a higher power.
There is nothing better in Oxford or Cambridge, at Win-
chester or Eton; there are things that are different and with
their own qualities of personality and originality, but, tested
by the same standards, Holder and the Halls have nothing
to fear from the comparison.
As for picturesqueness, there has been raised, quite
logically, out of a plan that fully satisfies the requirements of
a vital and manifold service, such a romantic composition
of varied elements, such a building up of gables and towers,
oriels and porches, dormers and pinnacles, such an accenting
ot" broad walls by vivid notes of traceried windows and un-
expected ornament of crisp, rich carving; one can only say
that modern architecture otters no parallel, and only in
music and poetry is to be found anything quite the same.
It is drama pure and simple, drama of the finest type with-
out theatricalism or sensational appeal; every new view one
gets is of a perfect stage-setting for a great play or opera.
And all without apparent premeditation. The whole thing
has the quality of spon-
taneous growth; on the
one hand there is a total
lack of that academic and
abstractly theoretical
composition that is now
and always has been the
curse of revived Renais-
sance, as it was the weak-
ness of original Renais-
sance, and on the other
of that straining for sen-
timental effects that
marks so much modern
Gothic. These buildings
have grown from within
outward as all good
architecture grows and
the result is a sense of
spontaneity, a convincing
reality and crescent life
that are elsewhere far to
seek. It is no two-dimen-
sional architecture; it is
conceived and formu-
lated in three dimensions.
So evident is its success, so
universal is its appeal, it is
the sharpest possible crit-
icism of every scholastic
system that relies on the
T-square and triangle de-
termination of mathe-
matical elevations and
takes no thought of what
these may bring forth
when translated from two
dimensions into three.
In general, this work
is a consummate example
of what is meant by "human scale." This is where men live
and grow, not where some gross type of supposititious "super-
men" are assumed to batten on imperial power. Roman
architecture was of this latter sort, as was right, since such
was the temper ot the state. So is much modern building,
which may also be fit and proper, and for the same reason,
but when this sort of thing tries to intrude into categories
still traditionally human in quality it must be savagely re-
sisted just as the world is now resisting the same sort of
thing in world affairs. Church, school, home, all are, or
should be, thus human. The scale of Holder and the Halls
is right both in mass and in detail, and if one picks flaws
here and there, as in some of the slate size and thickness,
the central entrance to the cloisters (the only unsatisfactory
element in the whole composition), and in the vertical panel-
ling of some of the buttresses, it is only for the purpose of
still further emphasizing the consummate beauty and per-
fection ot the thing as a whole.
\iirth Madison and Holder Tower, flanking Nassau St. itlii' main sired of Princeton).
I hardly know which to admire the more: the origi
nality and suppleness with which the Gothic idea is treated
or the miraculous manner in which, with all this originality,
the quality of historical association is preserved. There has
been no modern Gothic in any country where there was less
of copying, less of archaeological exactness. It would be
hard to pick out a single item that is a replica of any exist-
ing mediaeval work, yet the spirit of Gothic is here present
as vividly and convincingly as it is at Laon or the Ste.
Chapelle, at Lincoln or Gloucester or Oxford. Of course,
this is why it is all so
good. When the ap-
proach to Gothic verity
is attempted through an
assembling of archaeolog-
ical data, absolute fail-
ure results. Success fol-
lows only from the reverse
method: an assimilation
and achievement of the
Gothic idea and a work-
ing this out into detail
from that basis only. In
other words, Gothic is
not a scheme of construc-
tion nor a series of stereo-
typed architectural for-
mulae; it is a spirit, a way
of looking at things, an
impulse of definite qual-
ity, an inspiration work-
ing from one particular
source, along certain
clearly determined lines,
toward one particular
end. In this sense it is
a more living and mobile
style than any other
known to man. It ap-
pears that it is after this
fashion that these archi-
tects have proceeded, and
the result is, in my opin-
ion, the most successful
re-creation of the Gothic
idea that has happened
since Pugin, far back at
the beginning of the
nineteenth century,
struck the first blow at
demolishing a dead formula and substituting a living force.
Princeton allied itself with this creative movement
many years ago; it has held on its course without flinching,
and to-day it stands as the one university in America that
shows visibly the great university ideal. Here, as nowhere
else, in the matchless cultural quality of Oxford and Cam-
bridge, anil in Holder and the Halls, Princeton has achieved
the high point of its accomplishment.
Architecture, as a living art, owes the university a debt
of gratitude for making possible here a demonstration of
creative architecture at its highest point and an equal debt
to the architects for proving once for all that Gothic is the
one living form of architecture to-day and susceptible of the
achievement of pure beauty such as may not be obtained
along any other lines. Civilization crumbles before our
eyes, but here is a prophecy of the fashion after which the
new civilization that must follow the great purgation of
war will show itself once it establishes itself on the sure
<*
S V S M
Iff
3. 9 V S H
t t t t t ^J-ft-ff "f
j !-rr**1
* * i
i 8 In!
* \~n
I I I
J Hi,
D
U
uJ
i!
K**+
K+-
-I
j
fipS :
T'TT'T 1U
.11
LjLjr
foundations that still lie buried under the ruin and detritus
of rive centuries of misguided effort. It is not the mani-
festation of what has been, it is the vision of what
may be.
I cannot close this note, which is, indeed, an "apprecia-
tion" rather than an estimate or a criticism, without a refer-
ence to the photographs, which are worthy of the subject.
This is architectural photography at its best. Each view is
not a cold presentment but a picture composed as a painter
composes. The seizing of significant points of view and of
beautiful spacings of light and shade is masterly and, I
should say, unique.
A Description of the New Buildings at Princeton University
By " Vacationist''
SIR HENRY WOTTON begins his quaint "Elements of
Architecture":
"The End is to build well.
Wei-building hath three Conditions.
Commodity, Firmnejfe, and Delight."
Firmness, in these days, one may assume. Of Delight,
Doctor Cram has had his say. Of Commodity it remains to
speak.
Until recently there were no common dining-halls at
Princeton. Freshmen and sophomores ate at their own
lodgings or at private houses about the town, while most of
the upper-classmen frequented the well-known dining-clubs.
In the building on Nassau Street, first erected as a hotel and
afterward used as dormitory, whose brick walls and veranda
along Nassau Street
have long been familiar,
the first commons was
established in Febru-
ary, 1906. In the new
dining-halls here illus-
trated freshmen and
sophomores are now re-
quired to take their
meals. Thus are they
assured a sufficiency of
wholesome food, with a
daily measure of com-
munal life amid inspir-
ing surroundings.
In planning for the
future needs of an
American university its
authorities have to con-
ceive the institution as
capable of unlimited
growth or to consider
the present number of
students as substan-
tially fixed. The first
presupposes a con-
tinuous accretion of
students, buildings,
faculty, capital, and
land. The second is
based upon the fact
that a given equipment
of buildings and in-
vested capital is a unit
which will answer the
needs of a given num-
ber of students only,
that increase in the A K \\ mpif into ,he i.mie court.
number of students means not larger units but new units,
and that rather than create these an established university
should gracefully yield to a new institution the opportunity
of establishing itself in a new community.
Whatever course it is the destiny of Princeton to fol-
low, it is to be said that the present dining-halls are believed
to be as large a unit as is feasible for economical operation.
The group is self-contained. Should the number of students
materially increase, a new unit would be called for else-
where.
The Plan as a Whole
The accompanying block plan shows Holder Hall en-
closing three sides of a great court of the same name. Along
the western side of this court are the cloisters. These end
at the north at Holder
Tower, which is one of
the two towers marking
the sky-line of Prince-
ton and seeming to sym-
bolize the aspirations of
a seat of learning. A
tablet on the wall states
that this tower and ad-
joining dormitories are
a memorial to Christo-
pher Holder, a militant
Quaker of the stormy
days of the seventeenth
century, and for them
Princeton is indebted to
his descendant, Marga-
ret Olivia Sage.
Connected with the
cloisters, so intimately
that their eastern walls
form the background to
the arched ambulatory,
extend North and South
Sage Dining Halls.
Between these a broad,
vaulted opening leads to
the Little Court. This
court is enclosed on the
south by the dormitories
known as Hamilton
Hall, on the west by
South Madison Dining
Hall, and on the north
by the kitchen. North
of the kitchen, separat-
ed from it by a service
court and continuing
10
the line of buildings along Nassau Street west of the tower,
lies the largest of all the dining-halls, North Madison, with
a club-house for upper-classmen and visiting alumni at the
east end and a common room for sophomores at the west
overlooking University Place.
Thus the buildings now are, but it is not to be sup-
posed that such was the arrangement initially determined
upon and achieved without interruption or deviation. That
it was first intended to place the kitchen under the two
eastern dining-halls is of little interest now, except that the
bakery remains here under the cloister as a remnant of an
earlier conception. That South Sage was first intended to
be a low-ceiled hall,
consequent upon the
kitchen being under-
neath, is immaterial
now. The university's
officers and the archi-
tects developed and
perfected the scheme
of building from time
to time even while the
work of construction
was actually going on.
In the retrospect of it
all is seen the Gothic-
style, true to tradition,
adapting itself to elastic
conditions and chang-
ing needs the archi-
tects conceiving as the
hands of workmen
wrought, quite in the
manner of the Middle
Ages.
Why the final out-
come of five halls about
a kitchen and court as
we see it to-day ? Why-
were not great size and
scale alone striven for ?
In the first place, it was
* realized that there is a
limit to the size of a
commons room and the
number of students it
should contain, beyond
which it is not safe to
go, if noise and confu-
sion are to be avoided
and comfort at meal-time assured. This limit has been ex-
ceeded at some American universities. Sensible of this error,
Princeton determined upon five separate dining-halls de-
signed to accommodate a total of one thousand two hundred
students. These halls are almost equidistant from the cen-
tral kitchen and are upon two levels. The floor of South
Sage is 8 feet lower than its companion hall to the north.
A fifth hall lies along University Place and constitutes a
ground floor of South Madison.
The Dining-Halls
The interior of North Madison is 28 feet wide, 141>
feet long, and 47 feet high to the highest point inside the
roof, while 29 feet may be measured against the walls up
to a point where the roof intersects them. The designers
ot this hall knew from their study of Gothic architecture
Side of the Little Court.
that to roof a hall of this width the trusses, if" singly spaced,
as is usual, could not be more than 10 or 12 feet apart.
This would have resulted in dividing the length into fourteen
equal divisions, each containing a window, the piers between
each window supporting a truss. Manifestly such an ar-
rangement would have been monotonous and uninteresting.
In order to avoid this the trusses were grouped in pairs,
thus dividing the building into seven parts, greatly to its
advantage on the score of architectural dignity and interest.
This is, indeed, one of the most original and salient features
of the building's design. Two fine oak screens, located near
each other, opposite the entrance to this dining-hall, divide
the entire room into two
parts. The part toward
the west is nearly twice
the length of the re-
mainder and accommo-
dates one hundred and
eighty sophomores.
The other, or eastern
part, is 46 feet in length
and seats about one
hundred upper-class-
men.
South Madison, by
reason of its being really
a second floor to this
block of the group, is
much lower from floor
to roof than any of the
other rooms. The
length is 102^ feet, the
width Tiy 2 feet, and
the height from floor to
base of roof 19^ feet,
to inside of summit
31 K feet. This less-
er height has given an
intime character to the
room. Here is famili-
arity and cheer, where-
as in the other halls is
rather the impression of
lofty dignity. The em-
ployment of the eagle
as a motif for decorat-
ing the roof trusses has
bestowed upon it the
colloquial epithet of
"Eagle Hall."
North Sage, 87 by 28 feet, and South Sage, 80 by 28
feet, were the first of the halls completed and have been in
use about one year and a half. North Sage has a late Tudor
flat ceiling 31 feet above the floor. The roof-truss of South
Sage is 46 feet high at its summit. Above these two halls,
and reached by a stairway from one of the lobbies, is a ca-
pacious and well-lighted common room for freshmen.
A guiding consideration in planning the dining-halls
was to provide for such students as might not belong to one
of the sixteen dining-clubs which have been a conspicuous
feature of college life at Princeton. To this end not only
was a portion of one of the finest halls allotted for their
meals, but a club-house for their use was incorporated in the
group. It lies between North Madison Hall and the tower
and is of two stories, with lounging and billiard rooms, coat-
room and lavatory.
At the west end of North Madison, serving as a common
ii
room for sophomores, is one of the most richly ornamented
portions of the entire group. A low hay on the south and
a lofty bay on the west, the latter between piers terminating
as geometric pinnacles, and all elaborately carved, impart
an appropriate interest to this wing, standing as it does at
the intersection of two principal streets.
Materials of Construction
The halls are of fireproof construction, the only com-
bustible materials being the doors and wainscot. Upon first
designing for Princeton,
the architects cast
about to disco ver, if pos-
sible, a material to be
found closer at hand
than the gneiss which
had been transported for
several other buildings
from Chestnut Hill, near
Philadelphia.
A number of build-
ings of the countryside,
many of them old and
unpretentious, were
noticed as having walls
of unusual beauty. The
stone used for them was
a local shale. Experi-
ments were at once
made in different meth-
ods of laying this and its
possibilities quickly dis-
cerned. Individual
stones vary greatly in
tone, but by careful se-
lection and upon being
used in the present
building, in conjunction
with the mica schist of
Chestnut Hill, a very
satisfactory wall texture
and color was secured,
with the advantage of
utili/.inga local material.
The roofs, which
slope at 52 degrees, are
covered with Vermont
slate of differing shades,
with rough edges and
graduated in thickness
from \ l /i inches at the
base to yi inch at the
ridge, the extent of weathering varying from 13J4 inches
to 5 inches respectively with the thickness of the slate.
The interiors of the halls present sand-finished plas-
tered walls, floors of gray Tennessee marble, and oak roofs
of a light tone, approaching the color of natural weathering.
Lighting-fixtures of hand-forged iron are suspended from
the trusses to a height of 11 feet above the floor. The
dining-tables are arranged in three longitudinal rows, this
disposition having been chosen to enable the greatest num-
ber of persons to be served with adequate space for circula-
tion. Each table is 2 feet 10 inches by 10 feet and seats
ten persons. At the end of each dining-table is a small
serving-table. Incidentally with this arrangement, giving,
as it does, four long aisles, the cleaning of the floors which
North entrance to Holder Hal! from Nassau Street
is done by an electric scrubbing-machme can be the more
easily performed.
The Kitchen and Its Operation
It the richly picturesque architecture of the dining-
halls affords, as it surely does, an excellent background for
pageantry, it is to be remembered that there is a daily
pageant enacted in its midst, a drama that even the most
a-sthetic persons must needs crave for their inner selves.
It is the always welcome three-act performance represented
by three meals a day,
the prelude to which
occurs in the kitchen,
the heart and pulse of
the dining-halls. By
this is meant not only
the one room of that
name but its numerous
dependencies.
To obtain a view
of these, let us follow the
course of the raw mate-
rial from the time it
enters the basement
storage-room via the
service-court. Here it
passes the office of a
clerk, who inspects each
shipment and invoice.
It may go to the butcher-
shop hard by and soon
repose in one of the
refrigerators for fresh
meat, for smoked meat,
or for fish; or it may go
into either the vegetable
or fresh-fruit refrigera-
tors; or, if non-perisha-
ble, it finds an appropri-
ate niche in the large
wire-enclosed space con-
taining canned and dry
stores and supplies.
If the shipment is
of milk, butter, or eggs
it is sent to a room en-
tirely devoted to these.
All supplies, whether
comestibles, soap, and
othercleaningmaterials,
or linen, must enter the
building at this point
and receive their vise. Not far away is the office anil
working suite of the superintendent of the commons.
In the basement also, one entire side of which is fully
exposed to the light anil air of the service-court, is the
vegetable-preparation room with adjoining storage-bins for
potatoes and root vegetables. Eor transporting the supplies
to the kitchen above, there are three dumb-waiters.
The kitchen itself is a single room 88 by 38 feet, floored
with large red quarry tile, and with a plastered ceiling 23
feet high in the centre and enamelled brick walls. The
ratio of kitchen floor area to dining-hall floor area is 1 to
3.47 square feet. There are no serving-rooms, but the
broad corridors leading from the kitchen to each dining-
hall answer to avoid congestion and as buffers to prevent
12
the kitchen noises from reaching the dining-halls. The
kitchen is abundantly lighted by steel-sashed windows
along the north. The fact that in its operation the kitchen
was required to be duplex in plan determined the location
of the mechanism and equipment. By this is meant, as a
glance at the plan will show, that the two Sage dining-halls
and the east end of North Madison are served entirely from
the eastern half of the kitchen and the remaining halls from
the west end. Hence the kitchen acquires a north and
south axis across which no traffic passes. Here a double
row of ranges and broilers are placed back to back, and, with
a cook's table and steam-table in front of each row, the
output is served toward the east and toward the west. The
waiters follow an ordered loop in their course from the
dining-hall tables into the kitchen, picking up silver, dishes,
and food as they go,
and then back to the
dining-tables again,
each following another
ahead of him and with-
out any other traffic
crossing his path.
In a row along the
south side of the
kitchen are the soup,
stock, and vegetable
kettles, two cast-iron
steamers, and a fat-
melting kettle. All
these are operated with
high-pressure steam.
Beside these is an elec-
trically driven machine
for beating eggs, whip-
ping cream, mixing
cake, mayonnaise, and
the like. Opposite
these, against the north
wall, are the chef's sink
and his refrigerator.
Thereafter is to be seen
the double equipment of the kitchen repeating itself, as
has been stated, on the eastern and western halves, and
including dish-washing pantries with electric dish-washing
machines, glass and silver pantries with electric buffers,
dessert pantries with milk and ice-cream boxes, coffee urns,
and also numerous roll and dish warmers. The ranges,
being operated by gas, the kitchen is entirely freed of coal
and ashes. The garbage is collected in large cans and sent
to a storage-room, which is virtually a refrigerator, for there
the garbage is kept frozen until removed from the building
through the service-court to the university's farms.
On the same level as the storeroom, but situated under
the club-house and portions of the halls, are the bakery,
linen-room, and laundry. The bakery has two ovens gas-
fed by a blast through surface-combustion burners. The
gas is then turned off and the baking is done by radiant
heat. There are also electric dough-mixers, cake-mixers,
and ice-cream machines. The laundry is equipped with
electrically propelled tumblers, washers, extractors, and a
hundred-inch flat-work ironer. Here the kitchen uniforms
and waiters' aprons are washed and ironed. A much larger
mechanical equipment would be needed, no doubt, if linen
table-cloths and napkins were used in the dining-halls.
There has been, however, no need for table-cloths to cover
the finely finished oak dining-tables, and paper napkins
have been found quite satisfactory.
South side of the kitchen from the Little Court.
Beside the bakery and laundry is a large dining-room
for the permanent force of employees, and there are adequate
lavatories, shower-baths, and coat-rooms for them. The
working force in the kitchen, including dish-washing, china,
and glass pantries, is forty persons, of whom the chef and
his assistants are French, the others chiefly Greeks. Add-
ing to these the workers occupied in the storeroom, bakery,
laundry, and linen-room, the cleaners, engineer, and night-
watchmen, a total of eighty-five or ninety is reached, all
males save four. The kitchen force is assured of sanitary
living conditions by being housed by the university in a
structure devoted to this use elsewhere in the town. Every
employee eats at the dining-halls.
The dining-tables are set and cleaned by the force of
regular employees, but the meals are served by student
waiters, of whom there
are about seventy-five.
These students are re-
quired to do the serving
only of two meals daily;
at the remaining meal
they eat with their
companions. They are
paid a fixed rate for ev-
ery hour they work, and
they usually earn each
week more than they
have to dispense for
their table-board. That
there are more volun-
teers for this work than
can be accepted would
indicate that the role
is both agreeable and
profitable.
The waiters eat in
advance of the regular
meal hours. Students
breakfast from 7.30 un-
til as late as 8.45, when
the last bell is rung.
Luncheon is also a straggling meal, the promptness of the
student to appear depending on the hour of his next class.
Dinner, however, is quite a different event, for then the
work-day is over and all eat together. No seats are allot-
ted, each student being free to take any place he finds.
An important body in the present life at Princeton is
the aviation class, consisting of 720 men, who are taking
their eight weeks' course of ground work here. The univer-
sity feeds, lodges, and instructs the men and receives for
this a compensation from the government. The meal hours
of the class are early and fixed, and all must appear promptly
and eat together.
In closing, a few other figures may be given as a mea-
surement of the scale of daily operation of the halls: 1,200
persons are now fed at breakfast, 1,350 at lunch, and 1,275
at dinner, the greater number at lunch being possible by the
resetting of about 17 tables. From 130 to 150 dozen eggs
are served at breakfast. From 450 to 500 loaves of bread
are baked daily. Eclairs and cream puffs, between which,
in the estimation of the students, there has always been
close rivalry, mount into the thousands weekly and vie
with an amount of ice-cream that is coolly defiant to war-
time Hooverian influence. It should be added that all the
fresh vegetables, all the corn-meal and potatoes consumed
the past year were the product of the farms worked by the
university, and the prospect is that much more will not only
be so produced the coming year hut much preserved tor
use next winter.
The foregoing data may acquaint inquiring architects
and college officers with the "business end," so to speak,
of the Princeton dining-halls. As institutions go, the task
of operating this kitchen is seen to be neither abnormally
large nor abnormally small. But to maintain from year to
year a satisfactory commons for students, whose hunger
never quite stills their criti-
cal faculties, is a feat not to
be underestimated. In per-
forming it at Princeton,
Miss Madeline Pierce, the
present superintendent of
the commons, has achieved
much in skilful handling of
a plant which every effort
was bent toward making
perfect. Nevertheless, first-
class equipment can go only
so far in solving the many
problems incident to keep-
ing, preparing, and serving
food. A skilful personal
management is essential to
produce real comfort for the
inner man.
The Mechanical Plant
of the Dining-Halls
Under North Madison
is located the power plant of the dining-halls. It supple-
ments the supply of steam provided by the central power
plant of the university, about a quarter of a mile away, at
the south end of the campus.
The boiler under North
Madison is of 80 H. P. and
supplies steam to the equip-
ment apparatus of kitchen,
laundry, and bakery at a
pressure of 80 pounds per
square inch. The conden-
sation is returned by means
of automatic pumps. Do-
mestic hot water is supplied
by low-pressure storage-
tanks and generators hav-
ing a total capacity of 2,000
gallons.
Adjoining the boiler-
room is a refrigeration plant
in duplicate units each of 6
tons capacity and each
driven by a 15 H. P. poly-
phase motor, which receives
current from the central Kitchen.
plant of the university. The
system is direct-expansion
ammonia without brine, except for the ice-cream plant, where
brine is used for freezing the ice-cream.
Adjacent to both the boiler and the refrigerating rooms
is placed the air-supply fan, which takes the air from the
courtyard through heaters and delivers warmed air to the
dining-halls. This warm air is again pulled out through
exhaust registers through a second fan located in the base-
ment, which is so arranged that for economically heating
the air it can be recirculated through the big rooms.
Thermostatic control is used to regulate the temperature
of this air.
A second set of fans is located under the Tower
and Cloisters, with heaters and pre-heaters, all supplied
with steam from the heating system on the grounds.
This set of fans furnishes automatically tempered air
also to North and South Sage Dining Halls.
These fans provide for
all dining-halls a system of
blown air, automatically
supplied, and removed by a
system of fans so that at all
times pure fresh air is avail-
able in the dining-halls
proper. All apartments and
severe exposures are sup-
plied with direct radiation.
All kitchen apparatus
, requiring steam is fed by
the boiler under North
Madison. Over the range
is a large ventilating hood,
and there is another hood
over the row of steam
cookers and kettles. Ducts
from these hoods terminate
in the loft over the kitchen,
where, by means of a large
motor-driven fan, all the foul
air from the cooking proc-
esses is discharged through
a louvered window in the west gable of the kitchen building.
The design of the mechanical features of the dining-.
halls is the work of Mr. Isaac H. Francis. The plant
is capable of being run
throughout the summer
when the university plant
is shut down. The steam
for the kitchen and depen-
dencies is then generated
locally and power for the
motor can be purchased
from the public-service corn-
pan y. On the other hand,
the underground piping is so
arranged that the dining-
hall plant can be shut down
if occasion requires, and the
university plant operate the
kitchen in itsentirety. Thus
two sources of power are
assured against any emer-
ge ncy.
Retrospect
The designing and con-
struction of the group of
buildings here described occupied the architects nine years.
Seven hundred and eighty-seven drawings were required.
Studies for Holder Hall were first made early in 1909. Con-
struction was begun in April of that year. Next followed
the Tower. Hamilton Hall was completed in 1911, and
thereafter the Cloister. The dining-halls were next built
in two parts, the eastern being the first to be occupied. The
corner-stone of North Madison was laid October 26,
Kitchen plan.
and the group of buildings entirely completed and occupied
upon the opening of the college, October, 1917.
The university officer most intimately charged with
building construction at Princeton is the Secretary of Busi-
ness Administration. During the erection of these build-
ings this office was occupied first by Mr. Andrew C. Imbrie
and subsequently by Mr. George C. Wintringer, the present
incumbent.
The dormitories and dining-halls were built during the
presidencies of Woodrow Wilson and John Grier Hibben,
and during the entire period of study and construction
Henry B. Thompson has been chairman of the building com-
mittee. To his sound common sense, breadth of vision, and
discernment in architectural design is due in the largest
sense the success of the work.
DE.TXlLS-OF-BAV-OF-bUlL.DlNG
DINING -HALLS FOR,
PRINCETON - UNIVERSITY
PR.1NC.ETON -N-J":'
Day and 16Iaudi-
-A*r ahi Vfi/ c I-
923 Chtstnat t Ptitla PCT
^Voi-V. 'Numbt.r 544 - <5hj1- 14
Dtit-tfj- June, u iQtri r
Soali- I inoh one. -fool
H.t. i~
844 - 14
.--.:'-r-.-rr^r^-rr J
i mi
: . i 11 ' i -
l : mm
IT .. iJk (l
i! - A. *i
?W5
^f^Tj .; .nw 1 ::'
"~~ - "v : : =* *" -..u '.'..
. .
SOUTH END OF SOUTH SACK DINING-HALL.
NORTH MADISON FROM THE SOUTHWEST.
STKEKT KNTRANCE AND DETAILS OF HAMILTON HALL.
WESTERN END OF THE SOPHOMORE CLUB-HOUSE.
UINING-HALLS FROM NASSAU STREET (FROM THE NORTH).
A VIEW BETWEEN^THE UINIXG-HALLS (KROM UNIVERSITY PLACE).
THE CLOISTERS.
SOUTH SAGE DINING-HALL.
NORTH SAGK DIXING-HALL.
NORTH MADISON DINING-HALL (LOOKING EASTWARD).
SOUTH MADISON 1)1 XI \G-HALL ("KAOLK HALL";.
H
O
I
W
a
H
CJ
W
H
t/3
a
o
C/3
a
as
X
w
Si
O
a
-
o
OS
O
o
a
J
w
o.
~
I
w
ffi
H
W
Q
V-H
t/3
a
ca
G
O
u
J
s
Q
I
tL.
o
w
Q
OS
w
I
1
w
I
o
w
o
en
H
fe
o
PQ
<
J
*^
K
1
J
K
I
H
c
55
w
H
W
H
o
u
o
a
CJ
ON
FRESHMAN - DORMITOE.I
PR.lNCe.TON -
AL/TOWCR..
PLfa
l^lnc/b.
No 126
^1 ISo- r
PL, AN ^CT C-C
ELt-VWriOlM . OOEMDE.
SOO-126
HOJLTH -ELE VAT-ION Of
- ,. J,'..' PASSAGE HOU3E
MEMORIAL -
fJUf/CETOM
Wart. ;. A. BOO Meet:- /&. J3&
7=. 1SOS
- Oat Uaf
iofafl Ultjt Ca* foef
( A'cfe V.-rify f/j a'-
.-"7 - -!'- --':.,*.
| ------- -~y ------- - 1
'. f- ;l!'iut Ai./, ^ W.i.V
*5^ .w/r -l/V jf .ri^.'jn-ay itl flr.-ff
.fr,
irsaftst- .-r .-.
L.'-V:'( i .ipT^: ":":. :.'-'.';' .'':
: ^HM-SKf/OV^HfXQ'-1f\Y-
' ; -~ 'j.a /," iv.
U_IJ /
:
r mm
ii j * , ,_j
;,&*,',<:
^WfBiM^ II
.*;:
= f ',- -:'
! '. ?P
"*
1 "*" '*' - J-'-l. - .''-' .' -." w,. .
.-, d>
.Jt-
- . '; ''
'. j '- :
;1X ,
M
-i w l.i.r>
S'.-k.- ^, :,,, 2 JJ
*"^ - - r, n ,i *, s
f.',J- ui H.!. '.-'?'
> f-
rr. :>'
' ' '-' ' "iV i "*-! 1 " "" 'V'T^ * : -S,' '
V,
/7 .
--^K/ \ : ' .^" ;
'
, $
" "r
i *
3
LD Day and Klauder, Architects
4.614. Holder Tower and the new
D3 dining-halls of Princeton
University
PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE
SLIPS FROM THIS POCKET
UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO
LIBRARY