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Full text of "The Urban Pattern City Planning And Design"

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125 12O 





III 




EMERGING FROM THE CAVE 



The URBAN 

PATTERN 

CITY PLANNING 

AND DESIGN 



SECOND 
EDITION 




ARTHUR B. GALLION 



AN D 



SIMON EISNER 



CHAPTER TITLE SKETCHES BY 
ANTHONY STONER 



D. VAN NOSTRAND COMPANY, INC. 

PRINCETON, NEW JERSEY 
NEW YORK 



TORONTO 



LONDON 



D. VAN NOSTRAND COMPANY, INC. 

120 Alexander St., Princeton, New Jersey (Principal office) 

24 West 40 Street, New York 18, New York 

D. VAN NOSTRAND COMPANY, LTD. 
358, Kensington High Street, London, W.14, England 

D. VAN NOSTRAND COMPANY (Canada), LTD. 
25 Hollinger Road, Toronto 16, Canada 



COPYRIGHT 1950, 1963, BY 
D. VAN NOSTRAND COMPANY, INC. 



Published simultaneously in Canada by 
D. VAN NOSTRAND COMPANY (Canada), LTD. 



No reproduction in any form of this book, in whole or in 
part (except for brief quotation in critical articles or reviews), 
may be made without written authorization from the publishers. 



DEDICATED 
TO THE 
FUTURE 

GENERATION 



// you can look into the seeds of time, 

and say which grain will grow and which will not, 

speak then to me. 

William Shakespeare 



PREFACE 



With the same basic philosophy so well received in the first edition, this second 
edition gives new and added emphasis to the planning function. The revisions are 
highlighted with an excellent selection of new photographs, and the new census figures 
are reflected in the presentation. The material in the second edition is considerably 
more concise and consolidated. New chapters include such important topics as urban 
renewal and development, new towns, and urban planning as a government function. 

Features 

1. A wealth of carefully chosen illustrations with extensive and informative captions. 

2. A text arrangement that is flexible and adaptable to various academic levels. 

3. Arrangement of the book into parts in a manner that permits individual subject 
treatment. 

4. Wide scope and applicability to a variety of fields as a text or reference work. 

5. Discussion of contemporary trends in city planning, both in general and in the 
most important details, with desirable patterns indicated. 

Although designed to serve as a text and reference book for the student of city 
growth and planning, the book will also be of special value to professionals. Because 
of its special chapter and section arrangement, it may be used in a variety of courses 
in allied fields. It will serve to systematize instruction in the planning field given 
through departments of architecture, civil engineering, business administration, polit- 
ical science, economics, sociology, and geography. Prerequisites vary according to 
the level for which the book is used. 

The authors are indebted to the many who have contributed to the rich sources of 
information and ideas upon which this book has drawn. We record our sincere grati- 
tude to those who have been quoted and to those from whom illustrations have been 
obtained. 

ARTHUR B. GALLION 
SIMON EISNER 



VII 



CONTENTS 

PART I 
THE CITY OF THE PAST 

CHAPTER 1 THE DAWN OF URBANIZATION 3 

From Cave to Village Political Formation Evolution of Physical Form Cities of Ancient Lands 

CHAPTER 2 THE CLASSIC CITY 12 

Government by Law The Democracy of Athens The Humble City Hippodamus Public Space 

The Size of Cities The Dwellings Decline of the City The Hellenistic City Roman Prowess 
Monuments and Diversion Slums and Decay 

CHAPTER 3 THE MEDIEVAL TOWN 33 

Out of the Dark Ages Castle, Church and Guild The Picturesque Town Medieval Dwellings 
Medieval Institutions 

CHAPTER 4 THE NEO-CLASSIC CITY 40 

Mercantilism and Concentration Congestion and Slums Gunpowder The Renaissance Monarchy 
and Monumentalism The Baroque City Behind the Facades Colonial Expansion-America 
From Radials to Gridiron 

PART II 
THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

CHAPTER 5 THE INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION 63 

Handcraft to Machines Transportation Communications Public Health and Safety The Factory 
Town The Utopians The Model Towns Horizon of Improvement Movement to the Cities The 
Spiral of Land Values 

CHAPTER 6 THE CITY OF CONTRASTS 79 

Last of the Baroque Mid-Victorian Mediocrity The City Beautiful The City of Commerce The 
Need for Regulation Zoning Extension of Public Services 

CHAPTER 7 THE LIVING ENVIRONMENT 91 

Patrick Geddes The Garden City The Common Denominator England The Satellite Garden Town 

Sweden France Germany Holland Russia Italy Austria Switzerland 

CHAPTER 8 TRANSITION 116 

The Speculative Instinct Land Subdivision The Suburban Community The Mobile Population 
World War I The Garden Apartment Henry Wright Radburn Housing-An Investment 

CHAPTER 9 ISSUES IN FOCUS 137 

The Great Depression Inventory "Priming The Pump" Experiments Slum Clearance Begins 
The United States Housing Act Meeting the Need The Planning Dilemma War Begins a New 
Decade 

PART III 
THE PLANNING PROCESS 

CHAPTER 10 THE LEGAL FOUNDATION 165 

Vn Age of Urban Anarchy When Official Planning Began The Police Power Zoning: The First 
Step Changing Interpretation of the Law The Public Welfare Zoning and Community Character 
- Enabling Legislation for Planning Transition Esthetic Standards Planning as a Government 
Function The Planning Consultant The Citizen's Role 

ix 



x CONTENTS 

CHAPTER 11 THE GENERAL PLAN 185 

A Comprehensive Plan is Needed Purpose of the Plan The Plan is a Process The Plan for 
Land Use The Plan for Circulation Inventory of the Physical Structure Inventory and Classification 
of Land Use Inventory of Social and Economic Factors Changing Character of Cities The Plan 
is Teamwork Platitudes 

,'CHAPTER 12 THE ZONING PLAN 203 

The Precise Plans Zoning Defined Zoning Procedures Zoning Districts Height and Bulk 
Flexible Zoning Off-Street Parking Some Conventional Deficiencies 

PART IV 
THE CITY TODAY 

CHAPTER 13 SUBDIVISION OF LAND 227 

The Use of Land Private Property in Land Land Subdivision and Speculation Escape! People 
Need Cities Subdivision Regulations Subdivision Procedure Modern Subdivision Trends Planned 
Development: The Community Unit Density Control 

CHAPTER 14 THE NEIGHBORHOOD UNIT 250 

A Unit of Urban Design The Neighborhood Unit Defined Open Space Neighborhood Recreation 
Urban Conservation Schools The Neighborhood Is People 

CHAPTER 15 COMMERCIAL CENTERS .... 265 

The New Market Places Overzoning Parking Shopping Centers Downtown The Mall 

CHAPTER 16 THE CIRCULATION SYSTEM 284 

Channels of Movement Traffic Engineering: A Palliative A Place to Walk The RighL-of-Way 
Street Design The Regional System The Freeway 'The Traffic Lane The Interstate Highway 
Movement of People and Goods Terminal Space: Off-Street Parking Railroads The Third 
Dimension Integration or Disintegration 

PART V 
NEW HORIZONS 

CHAPTER 17 REBUILDING OUR CITIES 311 

The Penalty for Neglect The Housing Act of 3949 Urban Renewal "Predominately Housing"- 
The Workable Program To Sell or Lease Control of Obsolescence Taxation in Rcver.sc -Control of 
Obsolescence Renewal Is for People 

CHAPTER 18 THE NEW TOWNS 332 

British Planning Policy Compensation and Betterment The London Rogion - - The New Towns 
Variations of the Theme Chandigarh and Brasilia 

CHAPTER 19 THE NEW UTOPIANS 357 

The Search for Space The Search for Form The Density Equation On Common Ground 

CHAPTER 20 METAMORPHOSIS 377 

Symbols of Purpose Eclecticism Cities are Dated Symmetry or Freedom? Now Dimensions 
The Penetration of Space The Habit of Congestion The Cultural Vacuum Unity of Purpose 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 401 

INDEX 425 



PART I 

THE CITY 
OF THE PAST 



The People, Yes, 

Out of what is their change 

from chaos to order 

and chaos again? 

Carl Sandburg 




CHAPTER 1 



THE DAWN 
OF URBANIZATION 



From Cave to Village. When Paleolithic man moved from his cave into the shelters 
he constructed of boughs and leaves, he was making the first step toward urbanization. 
Then Neolithic man cultivated plants, domesticated animals, and introduced agricul- 
ture. He created possessions in the form of crops, animals, and tools, and possessions 
bred rivalry, which in turn brought the need for protection. Families collected into 
friendly groups and formed villages in which the agrarian population enjoyed the ad- 
vantages of mutual protection. The villages were located on sites offering the natural 
protection of elevated terrain, islands, peninsulas, or they were surrounded with bar- 
ricades and moats. One of the earliest known villages was built upon piles in a Swiss 
lake. 

Man was a gregarious being. He sought the companionship of his fellowmen and 
devised group entertainment and sports. The stronghold of the village became an appro- 
priate sanctuary for the altar of his deity. It provided a place for worship, a meeting 
place for assembly, and a center for trade. The environment became popular, and 
urbanization had begun. 

Political Formation. The village brought something new to the lives of primitive 
man. It introduced the necessity for mutual responsibility and co-operation. There 
were various interests common to all the inhabitants, and they were merged into a form 
of society, a social and political organization. 

Man did not adjust himself with the utmost grace to the self-discipline that this 
responsibility imposed upon him. He retained his primitive instincts for self-preserva- 
tion and superstition. Personal rivalry flared within the village, and the most powerful 
assumed the role of tribal leadership, maintaining communal order with the aid of the 
cudgel. Rivalry spread between villages, armed conflict ensued, and the barricades 
were transformed into fortified walls. Several villages came under the domination of 
the victorious tribe, and its leader rose to a position of ruler. In time, empires were 
created, and rulers took the titles of king and emperor. 

Society has been forged in the crucible of natural forces. Being a natural entity 
himself, man has inflicted upon himself many of the evils and hardships he has suf- 
fered. He has faced the necessity to improve economic security, correct social mal- 

3 



4 THE CITY OF THE PAST 

adjustments, discard mass superstitions, or resist seizure of power by autocrats bent 
upon personal glory and self-aggrandizement. The conflicts have occurred with varying 
degrees of pressure upon humankind and under a variety of circumstances. 

Evolution of Physical Form. Evolving from these conflicts the development of 
cities has marked the culture of a people. Sensitive to the surge between oppression 
and justice, the physical form of cities has been shaped by the economic, social and 
political forces of society. The degree to which freedom or slavery has dominated the 
lives of men, the manner in which war has been waged, the instruments of destruction 
and defense, the tools for peaceful pursuits and the way they have been used, the con- 
sideration, neglect, or disdain men have shown their fellowmen, all account for the 
kind of cities Man has built for himself, and their effect on urban development may 
guide us in charting our future enterprise in city building. 

Historians have attempted to isolate and codify the variations in the patterns of 
cities. However, their development almost precludes such classification. Adjectives 
like organic and inorganic, irregular and geometrical, magical and mystical, formal 
and informal, medieval and classic, are often so obtuse they obscure rather than clarify 
the distinctions, or they describe a form without the substance. The primary distinction 
in the pattern of cities is marked by the transitions from a slave to a mercantile econ- 
omy and from slingshot to gunpowder warfare. 

Two basic forms are discernible: the walled town and the open city. Within these 
basic forms a wide variety of patterns has been woven, each color and design shaped 
by the character of society at the time. 

Few cities in which great cultures thrived began with a plan. They developed by a 
process of accretion the growth was irregular in form, sensitive to changes in the 
habits of people, and dynamic in character. They began as free cities which men set- 
tled by voluntary choice. Geometrical form was introduced according to the manner in 
which the land was apportioned among the inhabitants. Colonial cities founded by 
great states were given a formal pattern predetermined by a ruling authority. Privi- 
leged landowners platted their land for allocation to settlers, the plots being generally 
regular in form, almost static in character. 

Within these various patterns we may find similar social, economic, and political 
habits and customs. Neither the presence nor the absence of geometrical form has 
affixed itself upon a people or a period as a conclusive expression of society. It is 
rather the manner in which the forms have been manipulated and the purpose for 
which they have been devised that give significance to the physical patterns of cities. 

With the ebb and flow of civilization the irregular and geometrical patterns have 
been grafted one upon the other. Villages which grew into cities because of geo- 
graphic, economic, or social advantages may show evidence of geometrical forms 
superimposed upon an irregular pattern, or an informal system may have been 
grafted upon a city having an original pattern of gridiron streets. Cities have been 
subjected to the process of continuous remodeling through the ages, and the variety of 
forms is the result of forces which dominated during the successive periods of their 



THE DAWN OF URBANIZATION 5 

history. We find the motives of city builders, from emperors to subdividers, reflected 
in the designs they have stamped upon the city. 

We have been accustomed to measuring a civilization by the monuments it produced. 
Certain cultural characteristics are revealed by these structures, but it is not enough to 
observe the monuments alone. The city is not the palace, the temple, or a collection of 
art objects. If we are to discern the characteristics of a civilization, we cannot confine 
our attention to the rulers; we must observe the affairs of the people. The city means 
the whole people who inhabit it, the entire collection of the houses the people live in, 
the shops in which they work, the streets they traverse, and the places in which they 
trade. To separate the palace from the dwellings of the populace is like removing 
a phrase from its context. When the palace is related to the lives of the people, it 
may provide quite a different interpretation than when it is observed as an isolated 
monument. 

More than the great structures that impress us, it is the dwellings of the people that 
mark the culture of cities. Civilization is not measured by inventions alone; it is meas- 
ured rather by the extent to which the people share the benefits these inventions make 
possible. Progress is not gauged by comparison of an aboriginal village with a modern 
city; it is more accurately appraised by the degree to which the people have partici- 
pated in the advantages of each. Standards and quality are relative, and it is the con- 
trast between the environment of the privileged and that of the poor which provides the 
yardstick of the freedom and happiness enjoyed by the people in any period. 

History reveals a lag between moments of great social ideals and the structures that 
reflect them. Institutions of social and political justice or oppression gather a mo- 
mentum which carries beyond their zenith. The substance of these institutions, the free- 
dom they have nurtured or denied, may have altered or vanished by the time the physical 
structure of the urban environment they engendered is finally completed. Frequently, 
the powerful human forces which produced a city have begun to change or disappear 
before the physical form of the city has modified. An environment which emerged from 
a society of high ideals may then become the dramatic scene of decline. The city form 
may remain after the substance of the society has vanished or been replaced. 

Stability, in the sense of a sameness of human conduct, a status quo of human institu- 
tions, has not long endured. Humanity must continuously have new cultural food upon 
which to nourish, or it decays. Civilization has not remained static for any protracted 
period /During periods in history when the social and political institutions were molded 
to the welfare of the people they provided the very climate of freedom in which the 
baser instincts of humanity could forge and wield the tools of oppression, inequality, 
and injustice. Unless this tide was stemmed, civilization turned in the direction of 
decline. We observe these trends in ancient cities, in medieval cities of the Middle Ages, 
in the Baroque Period, and there is evidence of their presence in our cities today. 

Cities of Ancient Lands. Early civilization spread along the fertile valleys of the 
Nile, Tigris-Euphrates, and Indus Rivers where food, water, and transportation were 
at hand. A series of great and small empires rose, waged wars, and fell. Supremacy 



6 THE CITY OF THE PAST 

shifted from one kingdom to another, each adding its contribution to the evolution of 
the civilized world, but one characteristic was shared in common by all these civiliza- 
tions. Moved by mystic superstition, the people were slaves of the ruling class, and 
they bowed before the reigning king as before a deity. All possessions of the kingdom, 
the land, and its benefits were subject to the will of the ruling monarch and his 
appointed emissaries* 

In Egypt the lives of the people were dedicated to the Pharaoh. The towns they built 
in the third millennium B.C. were erected upon his order. They housed the slaves and 
artisans engaged in building the great pyramids the royal tombs of kings and nobles. 
Like huge barracks the cells and compartments of sun-dried bricks were crowded about 
common courtyards. Narrow lanes served as open drainage sewers as well as passage- 
ways to the dwellings. Walls surrounded the towns. Because the kingdom was broad 
and mighty, they were probably built primarily for protection from seasonal floods 
rather than the armies of invading enemies. 

Concurrent with the Pyramid Period of Egypt permanent towns of burned brick 
were built along the Indus Valley. In Mohenjo-Daro and Harrapa the streets were 
arranged in a regular pattern and, as in Egypt, the dwellings were compactly built 
about interior courts. The heights of buildings were established in proportion to the 
width of streets, one and two stories predominating. Sanitation was of a relatively 
high order; a system of underground sewers extended about the towns, and there is 
evidence that disposal lines were connected to the dwellings. But all trace of the civili- 
zation that produced these cities has apparently vanished, and it remains a matter of 
conjecture whether the peoples who occupied them influenced the city building of the 
Near East in subsequent centuries. 

In the second millennium B.C. Egyptian kings built great temple cities on the banks of 
the Nile. Monumental avenues, colossal temple plazas, and rock-cut tombs remain as 
mute testimony to the luxurious life of kings and nobles in Memphis, Thebes, and 
Tel-el-Amarna, but few snatches of recorded history describe the city of the people. 
Time and the elements have washed away the clay huts and tenements in which the 
people dwelled. The dramatic Avenue of the Sphinxes in Thebes and the broad temple 
enclosure, one-third mile wide and one-half mile long, in Tel-el-Amarna tell a vivid 
story of powerful autocrats, while historians piece together fragmentary remains of 
the homes of people and conclude that slums spread about the towns. 

A series of empires rose in Mesopotamia, and humble villages along the valley of 
the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers became monumental cities of the kings. Each was 
heavily fortified to resist the siege of many enemies. The stately palace-temple 
dominated the city, and the people lived their urban existence in the shadows of slavery 
and superstitious religion. Economic hardship added to the burden of the masses. 
According to Bemis and Burchard a skilled artisan in ancient Sumeria could obtain 
housing for 5 or 6 per cent of his income, but the poorest dwellings cost unskilled 
workers as much as 30 and 40 per cent of their subsistence allowance. 1 

1 The Evolving House, Volume I, A History of the Home, Bemis and Burchard, 1933-36. 




AN 

EGYPTIAN 
HOUSE 




KAHUN 



The city of Kahun, Egypt, dating from about 3000 B.C. and built for the slaves and artisans assigned for work 
on the Illahun pyramid, was hardly more than an assembly of cells arranged in rectangular blocks to which 
narrow allevs g*ve access. The apparent difference in the size of these cells indicates a distinction in class 
among the inhabitants, the more commodious dwellings occupying the upper-right quarter of the town. 

Time and the ravages of weather have washed away the clay villages, and little is known of the average 
dwelling of the Egyptian. Deductions from sparse records indicate that the simplest dwelling was a single cell 
of sun-dried bricks and plaster covered with a roof of reeds. The city dwelling, such as the humble houses in 
Kahun, was probably a group of small rooms surrounding a diminutive courtyard in which the cooking and 
other domestic activities were performed. This court may have been used as a work area for the craftsmen. 

The climate was favorable to outdoor living, and stairs led to the roof which was the most desirable space 
for living and sleeping. In the finer houses of the noblemen, these roof areas were apparently developed with 
gardens, lavishly furnished and covered with awnings. 

A ventilating device, known as the "mulguf," was installed on the roof to provide some degree of cooling 
for the interior rooms. Probably olive oil lamps provided light, and such heat as was necessary was obtained 
from charcoal braziers. While sun-dried brick was the principal material with which the towns were built, the 
Egyptians, being fine masons, probably constructed the dwellings of nobles with stone and plaster. 



A Monastery 
B Bath 




MOHENJO-DARO 

Excavations at Mohenjo-Daro in the 
Indus Valley have revealed the re- 
mains of a large city built about 
3000 B.C. It is apparent that a rela- 
tively advanced civilization flour- 
ished in this city. Houses ranged in 
size from two rooms to mansions with 
numerous rooms. The map shows the 
archeologists' assumption lhat a 
major street ran in the north-south 
(First Street) and east -west (East 
Street) directions. Areas shown in 
black have been excavated and indi- 
cate the intricate plan of narrow 
roads. Buildings were of masonry, 
streets were paved, and considerable 
evidence of sewer drainage from 
dwellings has been uncovered. The 
principal buildings excavated are a 
public bath and a monastery. 



o ' FEET soo 




KING SOLOMON'S TEMPLE AND CITADEL, JERUSALEM, c. 900 B.C. 

The splendor of the temples and palaces of the kings in contrast to the congested dwellings of the populace. 
(Restoration by Dr. John Wesley Kelchner) 



BABYLON 




Gate 

B Temple 
C Hanging Gardens 
D Ancient Street System 
E Fortress 

In the sixth century B.C. Babylon was a large city spanning the Euphrates River. Surrounded by great walls and a 
moat, it was a monumental city of kings the processional avenue leading to the magnificent Ishtar Gate, the 
Temple, and the Hanging Gardens of Nebuchadnezzar's Palace. When Babylon was but a village, the streets were 
probably irregular; as il grew into a flourishing city, the avenues were laid with a more regular form as described 
iy Herodotus. At that time the palatial monuments were built and the dwellings increased in height and crowding. 




REGIONAL PLANNING IN ANCIENT TIMES 

While in captivity in the sixth century B.C., the Israelites planned their 
return to Jerusalem and Ezekiel described in his book (Ezekiel 25:45) the 
plans desired by God for the allocation and use of the land upon their 
return. Within their land, from Dan to Beersheba, an area of 10,000 by 
25,000 reeds (18 by 45 miles) was to be set aside for the priesthood and 
within it was to be the sanctuary of worship. An area 5,000 by 25,000 reeds 
(9 by 45 miles) was to be set aside for the people of the city. The land on 
both sides of these areas was reserved as princely lands. 

There was no indication of the precise location of the boundaries and 
it is probable that Ezekiel understood God's wishes were directed more to 
the area of land needed for the production and distribution of abundant 
goods than the exact location surrounding the city of Jerusalem. Perhaps 
the amount of land allocated to production for the people of the city was 
less than that for the priests since Jerusalem was a crossroads for trade 
routes and the people derived considerable wealth from the resulting com- 
mercial enterprise in which they were engaged. The princely lands sup- 
ported the kings who maintained residences on the Mediterranean and the 
Dead Sea as well as Jerusalem. The land described by Ezekiel lies within 
the area we identify today as Judea. 

A Lands -for City People B Lands for Priests C Lands for Princes 



10 



THE CITY OF THE PAST 



Seeking to improve the lot of the common people, the great King Hammurabi, in 
2100 B.C., codified his laws of justice. In Old Babylon we observe the dawn of building 
regulations. The codes of Hammurabi meted harsh punishment to irresponsible 
builders. According to the king's decree, if the wall of a building should fall and kill 
the son of the occupant, the life of the builder's son would be sacrificed the doctrine 
of "an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth." 

Out of the slums of thriving imperial cities were carved triumphal avenues con- 
necting magnificent city gates. King Sennacherib built his temples and palaces in 
seventh-century Nineveh. The processional avenues, great walls, monumental gates, 
and hanging gardens of Nebuchadnezzar's palace were the vivid spectacle of Babylon 
in the sixth and fifth centuries described by Herodotus. This Greek historian also told 
of the narrow streets lined with the three- and four-story dwellings of the populace. 
Behind the avenues, laid in regular pattern at right angles to each other, were the 
crowded houses of the people. Of more concern to the vanity of rulers was the monu- 
mental spectacle of the great edifices with which they adorned their cities. 

Perhaps the physical environment of the home did not weigh heavily upon the people 
in ancient times. Undoubtedly a beneficent desert climate cleansed the insanitary sur- 
roundings in these southern lands. But, human nature being what it is, we can reason- 
ably suspect that the violent contrasts in social caste, the servitude in which the multi- 
tude languished, and the restriction from participation in public affairs were as 
responsible for tfre continuous wars, revolts, and conquests, as the insatiable appetites 
of kings for power. 

A more enlightened society appears to have been cultivated in the islands of the 
Aegean Sea. Kings reigned over city-states, but these rulers were apparently not 
accorded the distinction of deification as in eastern lands. In contrast to the austere 
detachment of royal palaces in Mesopotamia, the palace served as a center of com- 
munity life in Aegean culture. On the island of Crete the town sites offered natural 
protection. Ancient cities, like Knossus, were not surrounded by walls. The people 
enjoyed free access to the sea and entered into trade with other lands. On the mainland 
of Greece, however, cities needed the protection of ramparts; the cities of Tiryns and 
Mycenae were heavily fortified. 

These early cities of the Aegean were irregular in form. Meandering streets fol- 
lowed the rugged topography of the sites. The streets were narrow lanes but they were 
paved with stone. Excavations have revealed highly developed systems of water supply, 
sanitation, and drainage for the palace and many of the houses. Most dwellings were 
one-story in height and, although densely built, the towns did not reach the great size 
and congestion which were apparent in cities of the Near East. 



A Palace 

B Public Square 



PALAIKASTRO 




100 



In the cities of Aegean culture the palace of 
the king appears to have been an integral part 
of the town life. Broad steps lead to an open 
court which was probably a place of assembly 
and entertainment. 

Built upon rugged hill sites, the streets 
were irregular and narrow. Towns in Crete 
were not surrounded by walls since their loca- 
tion on an island afforded adequate protec- 
tion. On the mainland of Greece, however, the 
early cities were walled. 

Dwellings in the ancient Aegean cities 
comprised a few small rooms about a living 
room called the "megaron." This room opened 
into a small light court, or a portion of the 
ceiling itself was open. Rain water from the roof was collected in a cistern in this area. The poor houses wert 
probably confined to the "megaron" and vestibule, with access to the roof for expansion of the living area. The 
larger houses contained a number of rooms and courtyards. There is evidence of bathing facilities within some 
of the better houses, and palaces of the Minoan period 
were equipped with drains. One-story buildings pre- 
vailed, the construction being mud brick on stone 
foundations. 



GOURN1A 




B Bath 

M Megaron 




STREET 



EARLY CRETAN HOUSE 



CRETAN HOUSE, c. 2000 B.C. 




CHAPTER 2 



THE CLASSIC CITY 



Government by Law. On the mainland of Greece the virile shepherds from the 
north mingled with the Aegean peoples, merged with iheir city-states, and gradually 
absorbed them within their culture. A wealthy landowning noble class rose in power, 
and during the eighth century B.C. leaders from this group appropriated much of the 
influence previously exercised by the kings. The palace citadel disappeared, and temples 
dedicated to the gods of their religion replaced them upon the acropolis. The nobles 
assumed the power of kings, dominated the cities, and brought oppression lo the peasant 
class. Seeking relief in other lands, the peasant group opened new avenues of coloni- 
zation and trade. A merchant middle class emerged. Feuds between this new economic 
group and the city-dwelling nobles forced the selection of a common leader, and in the 
seventh century the Tyrants of Athens came into power. 

Although they were themselves of the noble class, the Tyrants maintained their 
leadership by their support of the common people. Estates of the nobles were redistrib- 
uted among the people, and a strong land-holding peasant class developed. Under the 
successive leadership of Solon, Pisistratus and Clisthenes, the principle of law evolved 
as a basis of social conduct, A new form was given to political organization of the com- 
munity: a government of laws determined by the people. 

During the fifth century B.C., with the inspired leadership of Pericles, democracy 
and a high order of morality took root in Athenian citizenship. Political education 
was extended by way of free speech and assembly. Magistrates were elected to execute 
the laws, and public service was vested with dignity. Sovereignty of the people was 
assured and protected by a body of laws to which all agreed and were subject. The 
deep sense of individual responsibility was expressed in the vow of Athenian citizen- 
ship: 

I will not dishonor these sacred arms; I will not abandon my comrade in battle; I will fight for 
my gods and my hearth single-handed or with my companions. I will not leave my country 
smaller, but I will leave it greater and stronger than I received it. I will obey the commands 
which the magistrates in their wisdom shall give me. I will submit to the existing laws and to 

12 



THE CLASSIC CITY 13 

those that the people shall unanimously make; if anyone shall attempt to overthrow these laws or 
disobey them, I will not suffer it, but will fight for them, whether single-handed or with my 
fellows. I will respect the worship of my fathers. 

The Democracy of Athens. Inspired by the political genius of Pericles the 
democracy of Athens in the fifth century acquired a soul. It required wise citizen- 
ship to retain this quality, and philosophers like Socrates strove to cultivate the 
wisdom and intelligence. Although Socrates sometimes disapproved of the laws 
and thought some of them bad, he insisted upon the obligation of the citizenry to 
abide by them until they were revised. Esteem for the law was expressed in the 
words of the great orator Demosthenes: 

The whole life of men, whether they inhabit a great city or a small, is ordered by nature and 
the laws. Whilst nature is lawless and varies with individuals, the laws are a common possession, 
controlled, identical for all. . . . They desire the just, the beautiful, the useful. It is that which 
they seek; once discovered it is that which is created into a principle equal for all and unvarying; 
it is that which is called law. 

Athenian democracy of the fifth century was described by Glotz 1 

as the exercise of sovereignty by free and equal citizens under the aegis of law. The law, which 
protects the citizens one against the other, defends also the rights of the individual against the 
power of the State and the interests of the State against the excesses of individualism. Before 
the last years of the fifth century there is no sign that liberty has degenerated into anarchy or 
license, nor is the principle of equality carried so far as to entail the denial of the existence of 
mental inequalities. 

Democracy in the Age of Pericles produced that inherent dignity of the individual 
born of free speech, a sense of unity with one's fellowman, and a full opportunity for 
participation in affairs of the community. The Athenian citizen experienced the exhila- 
ration of freedom and accepted the challenge of responsibility it thrust upon him with 
honor and with pride. The discovery of freedom gave impetus to the search for truth 
as honest men desire it. Philosophy was nurtured, and there were no depths which the 
wise and intelligent were afraid to plumb. Reason was encouraged, logic invited, and 
science investigated. There was no truth which might be discovered and remain undis- 
closed. Inspired by this atmosphere it was no wonder great philosophy was born; only 
in freedom can such greatness be cultivated, not freedom from care but freedom of 
the spirit. This was the environment of culture which produced Socrates, Plato, and 
Aristotle. 

The affinity between freedom and spiritual values was symbolized in the temples 
built upon the acropolis. In them was reflected the exalted stature of democratic man. 
Some four centuries later another philosopher, this one from Bethlehem, was to recreate 
the spiritual values demonstrated by the Greeks at the height of their democracy. 

The Humble City. During the early years when democracy was flowering, the 
Greek city was a maze of wandering unpaved lanes lacking in drainage and sanitation. 
Water was carried from local wells. Waste was disposed of in the streets. There were 

1 The Greek City and Its Institutions, Guslave Glotz, Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & Company, Ltd., 1929. 





Trantt World Airways 



THE ACROPOLIS, ATHENS 




The temple rather than the palace of rulers 
dominated the ancient Hellenic city and a meet- 
ing place Cor political assembly of the people 
the pnyx was added to the urban pattern. As the 
power of kings diminished and democracy ex- 
panded, the houses of the people and the com- 
munity facilities established for their use assumed 
greater importance in the city plan. 

ANCIENT ATHENS 



A Acropolis 

B Agora 

C Stoa 

D Theseum 

E Prytaneum 

F Areopagus 

G Pnyx 

H Theater of Dionysus 



FEET 



2600 



THE CLASSIC CITY 15 

no palaces and, with the exception of the temples, public buildings were few and simple. 
The common assembly place was the pnyx, an open-air podium where the citizens met 
to consider affairs of state. The agora, or market place and center of urban activity, 
was irregular in form. There was little distinction between the dwellings of the well- 
to-do citizen and his less privileged fellowmen. The few rooms that comprised the 
house were grouped about an interior court behind windowless fagades facing the 
random streets. Most towns were surrounded by protective walls. 

For the Greek citizen the temple was the symbol of his democratic way of life, the 
equality of men. Upon the temples he lavished all his creative energies, and in them 
we find a refinement of line and beauty of form that expressed the dignity and humility 
of the Athenian. In later and less happy days Demosthenes reflected upon this period 
of the fifth century. "These edifices," he said, "which their administrations have given 
us, their decorations of our temples and the offerings deposited in them, are so 
numerous that all efforts of posterity cannot exceed them. Then in private life, so 
exemplary was their moderation, their adherence to the ancient manners so scrupu- 
lously exact, that, if any of you discovered the house of Aristides or Miltiades, or any 
of the illustrious men of those times, he must know that it was not distinguished by the 
least extraordinary splendor." 2 

Hippodamus. It was natural that an atmosphere of philosophy should impel a 
search for order in the city. It was a topic that engaged the attention of teacher- 
philosophers and politicians alike. In the latter part of the fifth century an architect 
from Miletus, by the name of Hippodamus, advanced positive theories about the art 
and science of city planning. He has been credited with the origination of the "grid- 
iron" street system, although this is not entirely accurate. A semblance of geometrical 
form had been present in early towns of Egypt, Mesopotamia, and the Indus Valley, 
and a formal rectangular pattern was used, in part, for rebuilding some Greek cities 
after their destruction by the Persians in the sixth century. The gridiron pattern was 
vigorously applied by Hippodamus to obtain a rational arrangement of buildings and 
circulation. 

The city plan was conceived as a design to serve all the people. The individual 
dwelling was the common denominator. Blocks were shaped to provide appropriate 
orientation for the dwellings within them. The functional uses of buildings and public 
spaces were recognized in the arrangement of streets. They provided for the circula- 
tion of people and vehicles without interference with the orientation of dwellings or 
the assembly of people in the market place. 

Superimposing the rigid geometrical form of the Hippodamian street system upon 
the rugged topography of the sites occupied by most Greek cities created numerous 
streets so steep they could be negotiated only with steps. Since the movement of people 
was almost entirely on foot, this did not present the problem we might assume today 
although there were probably some puffing Grecians who reached the top of a long 
climb to attend a political meeting in the assembly hall. The principal traffic streets, 

p. 302. 




S T R E ET 




GREEK HOUSE, FOURTH CENTURY 



K Kitchen 
M Megaron 
L Living Room 



A Atrium 
S Shop 



FEE 

A Old Agora 
B New Agora 




OLYNTHUS 



LATE GREEK HOUSE 



The town of Olynthus conveys some idea of the transition in oily development during the laic fifth and early 
fourth centuries in Greece. Excavations indicate a dual town; the earlier portion with an irregular layout of 
streets, the complete plan not having been uncovered. An agora was situated here, and the remains of a 
bouleuterion (assembly) have been found. The dwellings were small and irregular in form. This part of the city 
may be the original plan occupied first by the Boeotians and later by the Chalcidians prior to the last quarter 
of the fifth century when the city grow in importance as a Greek "polls." The flippodamian plan was probably 
developed after this time, the principal streets Jaid in a north-south direction about 300 feet apart and connected 
by east-west streets of narrow width some 129 feet apart. The city was raxed by Philip of Maeedou in 348 B.C. 
and did not rise again. 

The climate in Greece was more, rigorous than the countries we have previously observed. Protection from 
heat, cold, and dampness was a more important factor. The house of early times was centered about the hearth 
and contained a minimum number of rooms to heat. The hearth was situated in the. central room called the 
"atrium." An opening in the roof permitted the smoke to escape and rain water from the sloping portion of 
this roof was collected here. There is no indication of sanitary provisions or water supply other than that col- 
lected in the atrium. 

The Olynthus houses show the improvement -which developed in both interior arrangement and relation to 
the street system. All dwellings were oriented uniformly, although the room arrangement varied somewhat. Tn 
general the rooms of the dwellings opened into a courtyard and faced to the south. The north wall gave pro- 
tection from winds. The principal southern exposure was advantageous in winter because of the low angle 
of the sun which permitted it to penetrate the interiors; in summer the high altitude of the sun was a protection 
from the extreme heat. It will be noted that this orientation was applied uniformly to all dwellings regardless 
of the relation of the houses to the street. This rational treatment of planning was not again repeated until the 
housing program in Europe following World "War I. 

The later towns enjoyed paved streets and underground drains. The houses were generally two stories in 
height and some were equipped with baths connected to the drainage system. The cistern was prevalent in most 
houses and rain water was collected from the roof. The drainage system was apparently not intended for sewage 
disposal and sanitation was continued with cesspools and portable latrines. 

There is a remarkable similarity in the dwellings thus far excavated in Olynthus, the standards being fairly 
uniform. Principal shopping was undoubtedly conducted in the agora, although there is evidence of small 
individual shops connected to some of the dwellings. These may have been the workrooms of craftsmen as well 
as market shops. 




L 



LJ 
Ul 

DC 



r 

^k Plans of Olynthwt after Dr. David M. Robinton 

OLYNTHUS Detail plan of shaded area in general plan on opposite page. 

B Bath C Storage or Stable D Dining Room K Kitchen P Patio W Cistern S Shop 



18 THE CITY OF THE PAST 

however, were placed to allow the circulation of the few horse-drawn vehicles which 
entered the town. 

Public Space. The expanding affairs of government required appropriate facili- 
ties. The agora, or market place, was the center of business and political life, and 
about it were lined the shops and market booths. Accessible from the agora square, but 
not facing upon it, were the assembly hall (ecclesiasteron) , council hall (bouleuterion) , 
and council chamber (prytaneum). 

The agora was usually located in the approximate center of the town plan, with the 
major east-west and north-south streets leading to it. It was designed to accommodate 
all the citizens who would have business in the market place or attend public functions 
in the adjacent public buildings. The open space enclosed by the agora occupied about 
5 per cent of the city area, the dimensions being approximately one-fifth of the width 
and breadth of the town itself. 

The plan of the agora was geometrical in form. Square or rectangular open spaces 
were surrounded by colonnaded porticoes sheltering the buildings about the square. 
The plan was arranged to avoid interference between the movement of people across 
the open space and those who assembled for trade and business in the market. Streets 
generally terminated at the agora rather than crossing it, the open space being reserved 
primarily for pedestrian traffic and circulation. 

Common open space in Greek cities was largely confined to enclosure for public 
buildings. Because the city was small in area, the city dweller was not far removed 
from the open countryside about the town. Olive groves flourished outside the walls 
and here the philosophers founded the academy and the lyceum. In these quiet groves 
they met their pupils and set the pattern for later institutions of higher learning. From 
these academies came the first university, the Museum of Alexandria. 

Evidence of attention to building regulations is recorded in the chronicles of various 
Athenian writers. There is reference to laws restricting buildings from encroachment 
upon the streets and prohibitions against the projection of upper floors beyond the 
first floor walls. These are forerunners of the present-day "rights-of-way." Windows 
were not permitted to open directly upon the street, and water drains were not allowed 
lo empty into the street. Though primitive when judged by the standards acceptable 
today, the Greek towns demonstrated a conscious effort to improve the environment 
for the whole people, the final test of genuine civic responsibility. 

It was in the colonial cities founded by the city-states on the shores of the Mediter- 
ranean that the planning theories of Hippodamus found their fullest expression. It is 
recorded that Hippodamus himself planned Piraeus, the port city of Athens, as well as 
Thurii and Rhodes. The old established cities were remodeled in parts, the agora 
assuming a more orderly form as new buildings were erected for public affairs, but 
the colonial cities had the benefit of planning prior to their settlement. Although they 
were founded by a mother city-state, they enjoyed a degree of political autonomy, 
becoming a part of the confederation of Greek cities which comprised the Athenian 
"Empire." 



THE CLASSIC CITY 19 

The Size of Cities. Athens, in the fifth and fourth centuries, had a citizen popula- 
tion of some 40,000 and a total population of between 100,000 and 150,000 including 
slaves and foreigners. Most Greek cities, however, were relatively small. Only about 
three towns exceeded 10,000 persons during the thriving Hellenic Period. It was a 
theory of Hippodamus that this was an appropriate size, and Plato later concluded it 
should range between 5,000 and 10,000. In the settlement of colonial towns it was 
customary to dispatch about 10,000 colonists from the mother city-state. The glorious 
metropolis with its teeming millions is undoubtedly an exaggerated description of the 
actual number of people who dwelt in urban communities in ancient times. The metrop- 
olis, as we know it, is of comparatively recent origin. 

A number of factors bore upon the size of a city and the population it could support. 
The food and water supply was a primary consideration. The tools for cultivating the 
soil, the means for transporting the products, and the source and methods for distribut- 
ing the water supply established limits on the urban population which could be 
accommodated in a single group. As long as people were dependent upon the primitive 
hand plough, the horse-cart, and gravity flow of water, it was not feasible to gather 
in great numbers and maintain adequate standards of urban hygiene. Hellenic towns 
relied primarily on local watercourses, wells, and springs, but supplemental supply 
was sometimes available through conduits from more remote sources in higher sur- 
rounding hills. 

The Dwellings. In their houses the Greeks sought quiet privacy. Most of the social 
contacts and all business affairs were carried on outside the home. Small merchants 
frequently had shops adjacent to their houses, but business and politics were generally 
conducted in and adjacent to the agora. Sports and recreation were concentrated in 
the gymnasium ; drama and festivals in the theater. Feasts and other celebrations sel- 
dom occurred in the private dwelling. There was usually a small altar in the home, 
but religious exercises and worship took place in the temples. Consequently, the house 
was unpretentious in its appointments and, as has been previously mentioned, there 
was little distinction between the dwellings in the town. A display of affluence was not 
consistent with the tenets of democracy in the fifth century. 

Early houses were enclosed about a central hearth. A hole in the roof allowed the 
smoke to escape and it also permitted the collection of rain water in the cistern. In 
late Hellenic towns sanitation was improved by the pavement of streets and installation 
of underground drains from dwellings. The town maintained reservoirs, but there 
was no distribution system. With the improvement of drainage, however, there was an 
increasing number of homes with private baths. Disposal of sewage was apparently 
not provided for, and the portable latrine and private cesspool continued in use. Terra- 
cotta braziers supplemented the hearth as a source of heat in the larger houses. 

Care in planning the dwelling was not less because of its simplicity. On the contrary, 
as the center of family life, the proper arrangement of rooms in relation to the site 
received attention from builders and philosophers alike. 

The climate urged emphasis upon orientation of the dwelling. The maximum amount 



PRIENE 

A Agora 

B Temple of Athene Polias 

C Theater 

D Stadium 




These cities demonstrate the Hippodamian plan as it developed toward the end of the Hellenic Period. The 
agora occupies the approximate geographical center of the town. About it are the temple shrines, public 
buildings, and shops. The dwelling blocks are planned to provide the appropriate orientation of houses in a 
manner similar to that shown at Olynthus. Recreation and entertainment facilities are provided in the gym- 
nasium, stadium, and theater. The contours of the site indicate that some of the streets were very steep, steps 
being frequently required, but the main streets connecting the gates and the agora were generally placed so 
that beasts of burden and carts could traverse them readily. 



MILETUS 



A Agora 

B Theater 

C Stadium 

D Port 



an 
ana 

BBS 



nnnn 

Dnazannn 
nnnnnnna 
anneal 



an 
anna 
nnna 





THE AGORA OF PRIENE 

A Market Place 

B Temple of Athene Polias 

C Ecclesiasteron 

D Prytaneum 

E Stoa 



<::%J^WE%%%3^ I r I 

I I II I I 



The market place was designed for freedom of pedestrian movement, streets generally by-passing or terminating 
at the open space. Service to the shops was sometimes provided from the exterior streets surrounding the 
market place. 

The agora was treated as a series of exterior rooms; although rectilinear in form, the spaces were not 
symmetrically arranged. 

The shrines and public buildings were located about the agora. The bouleuterion was the meeting room for 
the city council, the prytaneum, the private chambers for the Council, and the open-roof ecclesiasteron, the 
public assembly hall, these public buildings being accessible from the agora but seldom directly form the 
market place. In the plan of Miletus the bouleuterion and prytaneum are shown, but it is believed that the 
ecclesiasteron also served as the bouleuterion in Priene. 



THE AGORA 
OF MILETUS 

A Market Place 

B Bouleuterion 

C Prytaneum 

D Stoa 

E Port 




22 THE CITY OF THE PAST 

of sunshine that could be invited into the dwelling was desirable in the winter months, 
and if the rooms were shielded from the cold north winds, heat could be conserved. 
Conversely, the heat in summer was relieved when the direct rays of the sun were 
excluded. These criteria were satisfied in the plan of the Greek house. 

The principal rooms were faced to the south, opening upon the private courtyard. 
A colonnade projected from the rooms to shelter them from the high summer sun. The 
north wall of the house was punctured with only a few small windows. This plan form 
was used in practically all dwellings in the town, whether the street entrance occurred 
on the north, south, east, or west. 

Chroniclers of the period referred to the importance of proper orientation. Aristotle 
wrote, "For the well-being and health ... the homesteads should be airy in summer and 
sunny in winter. A homestead possessing these qualities would be longer than it is deep ; 
and the main front would face south." According to Xenophon in his Memorabilia, 
Socrates applied the following reasoning to the dwelling arrangement. "When one 
builds a house must he not see to it that it be as pleasant and convenient as possible? 
And pleasant is to be cool in summer, but warm in winter. In those houses, then, that 
look toward the south, the winter sun shines down into the paestades [court portico] 
while in summer, passing high above our heads and over our roofs, it throws them 
in shadow." 

The effect of these criteria was a planning system that sprung from the elements 
of the individual unit the home applied uniformly throughout the town plan. This 
consistent treatment is unique in urban planning; we do not find it recurring for 2,400 
years when a similar relation between the dwelling and the site was recognized in the 
vast housing program in Europe following the First World War. 

Decline of the City. It cannot be assumed that political affairs always ran smoothly 
in the Age of Pericles. Teachings of the Sophists were disturbing to some of the well- 
established customs. A little man by the name of Socrates subjected many of the 
prevailing habits to severe questioning. He insisted upon inquiry and application of 
reason to the activities of men. He desired that the individual should cultivate an 
insight into truth, that he should become neither stronger than the state nor subservient 
to it. Socrates raised some questions about the existence of the gods. 

There were some good democrats who believed he was wrong in raising these 
questions; they had suffered from uprisings of the oligarchic party and feared lest 
the faith in democracy be weakened. They brought charges against Socrates for impiety 
and subverting the youth of Athens. There were those who loved this wise man whose 
only ambition was the quest for truth. They appealed to him to flee his accusers as was 
the custom, but Socrates would not. He had suggested changes in the habits of men 
which would improve their lot, and if these were unlawful he would remain to face 
the people. Found guilty, he was sentenced to die, and in 399 B.C. he drank the hem- 
lock. 

The lesson of Socrates has been repeated in history. The institutions of men must 
change or decay, grow or wither. Socrates showed a way for men to continue command 



THE CLASSIC CITY 23 

of their destiny by seeking truth. He strove to improve the institutions that they might 
better serve the people, and for this his fellowmen found him guilty of treason. More 
confidence in the strength of democracy would not have caused him to be so accused ; 
more confidence might have saved democracy itself. 

During the fourth century there was evidence of growing indifference toward the 
responsibility of government. Accustomed to liberty the people were taking it for 
granted, and they inclined to allow affairs to run themselves. Freedom guaranteed by 
democracy was coming to mean that "the people has the right to do what it pleases." 
Some people were, in the words of Demosthenes, "even building private houses whose 
magnificence surpasses that of certain public buildings." 

Well-to-do citizens spent more of their time in their country villas, whereas the 
common people found the difficulty of earning a living more absorbing than participa- 
tion in public affairs. The middle class was disappearing, and a wide gap was growing 
between those with money and those without it. Plato and Aristotle saw a degeneration 
of the democracy of Pericles. They perceived a growing abuse of individual liberty 
and became increasingly critical of democracy itself. Others were gripped with cyni- 
cism while maintaining the fight for democracy. Demosthenes said: 

The objection may be raised that it was a mistake to allow the universal right of speech and a 
seat in the council. These should have been reserved for the cleverest, the flower of the com- 
munity. But here again it will be found that they are acting with wise deliberation in granting 
even the baser sort the right of speech, for supposing only the better people might speak, or 
sit in council, blessings would fall to the lot of those like themselves, but to the commonalty 
the reverse of blessings. Whereas now, anyone who likes, any base fellow, may get up and dis- 
cover something to the advantage of himself and his equals. It may be retorted, "And what sort 
of advantage either for himself or for the people can such a fellow be expected to hit upon?" The 
answer to which is, that in their judgement the ignorance and baseness of this fellow, together 
with his good will, are worth a great deal more to them than your superior person's virtue and 
wisdom, coupled with animosity. What it comes to, therefore, is that a state founded upon such 
institutions will not be the best state; but given democracy, these are the right means to secure 
its preservation. The people, it must be borne in mind, does not demand that the city should 
be well governed and itself a slave. It desires to be free and to be master. As to bad legislation 
it does not concern itself about that. 

Glotz gives the following description of the alarming developments of this period 
in the fourth century:' 5 

But in Greece as a whole there existed almost everywhere a glaring contrast between the equality 
promised by the constitution and the inequality created by social and economic conditions. 

The power of money was spreading and corrupting morality. . . . Agriculture was commercialized 
to such an extent that by progressive eviction of small peasants and the concentration of estates 
in the same hands the system of large estates was recreated. Rhetoricians, advocates and artists, 
who had formerly reckoned it a dishonor to commercialize their talent, now felt no scruples in 
selling their goods as dearly as possible. Everything could be bought, everything had its price, 
and wealth was the measure of social values. By gain and by extravagance fortunes were made 
and unmade with equal rapidity. Those who had money rushed into pleasure-seeking and sought 
every occasion for gross displays of luxury. The newly rich were cocks of the walk. Men specu- 

*lbid, 9 pp. 311, 312. 



24 THE CITY OF THE PAST 

lated and rushed after money in order to build and furnish magnificent houses, to display fine 
weapons, to offer to the women of their family and to courtesans jewels, priceless robes and rare 
perfumes, to place before eminent guests and fashionable parasites fine wines and dishes pre- 
pared by a famous chef, or to commission some popular sculptor to carve their bust. 

What happened to public affairs when "love of money left no one the smallest space in which to 
deal with other things, to such an extent that the mind of each citizen, passionately absorbed in 
this one purpose, could attend to no other business than the gain of each day" (Plato). Politics 
also was a business concern; the most honest worked for a class, the others sought for them- 
selves alone the profits of power and barely concealed their venality. We are dealing with a time 
when "riches and rich men being held in honor virtue and honest men are at a discount," 
when "no one can become rich quickly if he remains honest" (Plato). Were these merely the 
capricious outbursts of a philosopher in love with the ideal or of a character in a comedy? 
Listen to the terrible words uttered before a tribunal: "Those who, citizens by right of birth, 
hold the opinion that their country extends wherever their interests are, these obviously are 
people who will desert the public good in order to run after their personal gain, since for them 
it is not the city which is their country, but their fortune." 

The struggle between democracy and oligarchy was renewed, and Isocrates sums 
up the growing conflict between the widely separated classes; 

Instead of securing general conditions of well-being by means of mutual understanding the anti- 
social spirit has reached such a pitch that the wealthy would rather throw their money into the 
sea than relieve the lot of the indigent, while the very poorest of the poor would get less from 
appropriating to their own use the property of the rich than from depriving them of it. 

The Hellenistic City. The Peloponnesian Wars weakened Athens financially, and 
corrupt politicians began to gnaw at the moral fiber of the people. Athens became easy 
prey for a conqueror and succumbed to the Macedonian armies of Alexander the 
Great. But the essential qualities of wisdom, logic, and reason, the sensitive, esthetic 
character of democratic days, had sunk its roots deep into the soil of Athens. The 
Greeks were conquered by mighty armies, but their culture dominated the conqueror. 
Greek influence spread throughout the Mediterranean shores, and the Hellenistic period 
brought new city building the planning and architecture patterned after the great 
works of the Greeks. 

Old cities flourished and new cities were founded. Pergamon, Alexandria, Syracuse, 
and Candahar grew large and populous ; the humble quality of the Hellenic city van- 
ished. The city became the scene of luxury, ruddy with the display of empire. Mag- 
nificent public buildings the odeion, the treasury, the library, the prison were 
added to the agora. The assembly retained its traditional place among these monu- 
mental structures, but it remained, as Percy Gardner 4 expressed it, for the citizens 
"to exercise such functions (a mere show of autonomy) as the real rulers of the 
country . . . left to them." Baths, palaestrae, and stadia were built for entertainment 
and festival. Gardens and parks were introduced from the Orient, An entourage of 
royalty built fine villas in the urban environs, and distinctions in caste grew more* 
apparent. 

Small kings, wealthy families, and ambitious foreigners desirous of acclaim 
within this frame of monumental splendor bestowed generous gifts upon the city. 

* The Planning of Hellenistic Citicf T Percy Gardner. 



PRIENE 




Bettinann Archive 



Restoration by A. Zippelius. 
The city of Priene was rebuilt during the 4th century B.C. and illustrates the transition from the Hellenic 
period to the Hellenistic Age. Having suffered the political disunion of the Greek states, it revived with the 
spread of Greek culture under Alexander the Great. 

In this town we perceive the great influence of the Greeks upon their Macedonian conquerors while we also* 
detect the effect of imperial domination. Alexander was a pupil of Plato, embraced the ideals of Hellenic 
culture with fervent enthusiasm, and determined to extend them throughout the world. The physical improve- 
ment in Greek cities reflected the deep roots of Hellenic culture and exhibited the refinement of the Athenian 
tradition. The Hippodamian plan introduced a more orderly arrangement of the city than was present in the 
early Hellenic development. The physical facilities for public assembly, the market place and the theater, 
the planning of sites for satisfactory orientation of dwellings, the buildings of temples, paved streets, sanitation 
and water supply were improved, and the forms of these facilities expressed the subtle esthetic arrangement 
and consummate skill possessed by the Greeks. 

But changes from the Hellenic tradition were also in evidence, and the Hellenistic Age was the period 
during which these changes occurred. The slave system had always been the foundation of society in the 
world, and whereas it continued during Athenian supremacy, the feature of Greek democracy was the intro- 
duction of a government of laws decided by citizens in public assembly. The Hellenistic Age, however, departed 
from this process and returned to a state of imperialism. After Alexander's successful military expansion and 
in the face of his burning ambition to extend the culture of the Hellenes, he succumbed to the spell of personal 
power. As has since happened in the world, this power dominated his life, destroyed him and his empire, 
and his achievements. 

Consistent with imperialism the cities of the Hellenistic Age were embellished with the display of a growing, 
monarchy. More and more support for city development came from the noble class desirous for acclaim as 
benefactors. Distinction between the ruling class and the populace returned to the city and the physical facili- 
ties became more lavish, more grand and monumental in scale. The open-air meeting place the pnyx of the 
early Greek town was replaced by the agora and assembly hall; thence more and richer buildings were added 
through beneficent gifts from minor rulers and royal satellites. Priene was a city of only some 4,000 people,, 
but it was equipped with relatively copious facilities. The gymnasium and stadium were introduced, temples, 
were built and improved, and new public buildings were donated in return for popular favors. 

When the ruling genius of Alexander disappeared social disintegration was inevitable. Imperial rule had 
drained the initiative and dissipated the strength of society. These forces were at work in towns like Priene' 
where the refined quality of Hellenic culture shifted to the luxuriant excesses of the Hellenistic Age and set 
the stage for the decline of a great period in the history of mankind. 



26 THE CITY OF THE PAST 

Empty honors were accorded for their beneficence. The great stoa at Priene was the 
gift of a king of Orophernes of Cappadocia. Here, one by the name of Zosimus staged 
a festive dinner for the whole citizen population of the city in return for receipt 
of the "dignity of Stephanephorus". According to Pausanias the bouleuterion at 
Megalopolis was named after Thersilius who dedicated it, and the donor of the 
bouleuterion at Elis was one by the name of Lalichmium. 5 Inscriptions bear a 
quantity of evidence of this surge for popularity through these magnanimous ges- 
tures of philanthropy. The genuine character of the Hellenistic city was, in the third 
and second centuries B.C., degenerating into a hollow form of a decaying social 
structure. 

Roman Prowess. In their early migrations to the Italian peninsula, the Greeks 
had founded cities. Like other peoples on the shores of the Mediterranean, the 
Romans drew upon the Greek culture planted there. They grafted Hellenic forms 
upon the irregular patterns of their villages and used these forms for the new towns 
they founded in the near and far reaches of their broad empire. 

The Romans were calculating organizers. They excelled in technical achievement 
and were skilled engineers and aggressive city builders. But they had not the phi- 
losophy of the Greeks. Preoccupied with conquest, administration was their prime- 
business and they devised political organisation which has continued to this day. 
Intense builders with a flair for gargantuan scale, their works were not graced 
with the refinement of line and form or the creative spirit of the Athenians. Greek 
forms were reduced to mechanical formulae which could be readily applied like 1 ; 
parts arranged upon graph paper. 

With inventive genius the Romans solved technical problems created by the con- 
gregation of great numbers of people in cities. They developed water supply and 
distribution, drainage systems, and methods of heating upon which the health of the 
masses depended. The great aqueducts for transport of water over tremendous dis- 
tances and the underground sewers like Cloaca Maxima were feats of engineering 
skill and prowess. The great highways paved with stone represented the tireless 
efforts of intense builders. 

Monuments and Diversion. The Forum Romanum of the Republic had a human 
scale. Its proportions and form undoubtedly caused the citizen to feel he was a part 
of the activity that took place there. Here the individual and his identity were merged 
with "Rome", The buildings were not so overwhelming in size that they humbled the 
individual. The common people had their share of hardships, but one can imagine 
the Gracchi pleading their case in the Senate for an equitable distribution of the land 
and its benefits. The citizen understood the religion of his temples, and he was proud of 
the triumphs of the Roman legions abroad. He could participate in the business affairs 
of the basilica and perhaps engage in the money-lending enterprise carried on there. 
He felt himself to be one of the actors in this drama as a Greek had been in his 
assembly and agora. 

G The Political Meeting Places of the Greeks, William A. McDonald, Johns Hopkins Press, 1943. 



POMPEII 



OS ^ 




F Forum 

T Theater 

C Colosseum 

B Baths (Thermae) 



The forum lies in the center of an irregular street system suggesting the probability that the more regular 
pattern was established as the town grew in population and extended its area. The variety of building types 
about the forum was unified with a continuous colonnade. The rectangular shape, according to Vilruvius, was 
adapted to the use of the forum for gladiatorial demonstrations and other public events. The colonnade supported 
a balcony for observers. 




THE APPIAN WAY OF ANCIENT ROME 



TranaWorld Airway* 



28 THE CITY OF THE PAST 

This citizen of early Rome saw gracious living like that in Pompeii and Hercu- 
laneum or the busy life and fashions of Ostia. He observed distinctions in class among 
the dwellings but took these for granted in a day when a slave economy was all he 
had thus far witnessed in history. If the citizen was not blessed with wealth, he could 
nevertheless indulge himself in the various common forms of entertainment the 
community offered the gay combat in the colosseum, the drama in the theater, or a 
festival in the forum. 

But the scene changed for the Roman citizen. World conquest was the ambi- 
tion of Rome, and the citizen saw great riches flow into his capital. He saw intrigue 
absorb the military and political leaders and he saw the public lands and wealth 
won in campaigns appropriated by them. He saw monuments erected in dedication 
of great victories, and the triumphant entry of generals from abroad. 

The Roman citizen saw emperors crowned and he saw them build new fora which 
dwarfed his Forum Romanum. He saw each new forum exceed in size the one that 
preceded it. The Forum of Augustus was greater than the Forum of Julius Caesar; 
the Forum of Vespasian matched that of Augustus; and the Forum of Trajan was 
the most magnificent of all. He saw the Palace of Augustus crown the Palatine and 
the Golden House of Nero span acres. 

He saw his attention to social and economic inequities diverted by institutions for 
pleasure rather than culture. He saw the huge colosseum where carnal displays were 
staged for the excitement of a populace which might otherwise have grown restless. 
He saw the Circus Maximus where 150,000 persons could revel in the bloody 
combats of gladiators. 

The scale of all these structures, the spaces they enclosed, and the architectural 
fitments with which they were adorned appalled the Roman citizen. It was not the 
plan of a city which he saw emerging, but a series of ever greater monuments to the 
glory and deification of his rulers. Even the colonial cities followed the form of the 
military camp. 

Slums and Decay. Diversion was afforded the citizen, but he saw his city grow con- 
gested. He saw men, like Crassus, profess to be civic leaders but speculate in the land 
and build huge tenements. He saw the city crowded with slums to become fuel for dis- 
astrous fires. The height of buildings reached six, seven, and eight floors and Emperor 
Augustus found it necessary to decree a limit of 70 feet for all tenements. According 
to the Constantin Regionary Catalog there were 46,602 blocks of apartments and 
only 1,797 private houses in Rome in the fourth century after Christ. 

This Roman citizen saw nobles, the returning heroes, and the rulers move to great 
estates and comfortable villas in the country. The Empire had grown so broad and 
so fat no enemy could reach them. Luxury and display were imported from 
the Orient, and the leaders grew soft. The city-dweller lived in slums while the 
affluent enjoyed leisure in the country. No strong and healthy men with convictions 
remained to defend the Empire, and Rome gradually merged with the camp of bar- 
barians from the north. Civilization descended into the Dark Ages. 



THE CLASSIC CITY 29 

The lesson of Rome and the cities it built is well stated by Henry Smith Williams: 6 

During the entire ages of Trajan and the Antonines, a succession of virtuous and philosophic 
emperors followed each other ; the world was in peace ; the laws were wise and well administered ; 
riches seemed to increase; each succeeding generation raised palaces more splendid, monuments 
and public edifices more sumptuous, than the preceding; the senatorial families found their 
revenues increase; the treasury levied greater imposts. But it is not the mass of wealth, it is on 
its distribution, that the prosperity of states depends; increasing opulence continued to meet the 
eye, but men became more miserable; the rural population, formerly active, robust, and ener- 
getic, were succeeded by a foreign race, while the inhabitants of towns sank in vice and idleness, 
or perished in want, amidst the riches they had themselves created. 

6 The Historian's History of the World, Henry Smith Williams, The Outlook Company, 1904. 




EARLY 
ROMAN HOUSES 





A Atrium 

B Peristyle 

C Bed Cubicles 

H Hearth 

P Reservoir 



S Shop 

E Entrance Vestibule- 

L Living Room 

D Dining Room 

K Kitchen 



STREET 



Pompeii was a city largely devoted to residences. It was not a metropolis, as was Rome, and did not suffer the 1 
congestion of a large city. Tn it we find a wide range of dwelling facilities. The early "Roman" dwelling adopted 
the atrium (A) from Greece. Houses of the more affluent added the feature known as the "peristyle" (B) and 
this was sometimes extended into a garden. The House of Pansa shows these several elements. It occupies an 
entire block. Along 1 the side street there were attached some small apartment-dwellings which convey some idea 
of the contrast between accommodations of the wealthy occupant in the main house and the poorer artisans or 
slaves. The street front of the houses was usually devoted to shops. From the entrance door a vestibule (E) 
opened into the atrium (A) in which the impluvium (P) for the collection of rain from the roof was located. 
Here guests were received and business affairs conducted. A passage connected the atrium and the peristyle, 
the heart of family life. Open to the sky, it was surrounded by a colonnade. Various rooms opened from the 
peristyle: the lounge (L), dining room (D), and sleeping rooms (C). Beyond the peristyle was the garden. 
Portions of the house had sleeping rooms on the second floor for slave quarters. 

Heating was provided generally by charcoal braziers carried from room to room, but an ingenious device 
called the hypocaust was installed in some buildings. It was a series of ducts through which warm air was 
circulated from a central furnace. Cooking was done with charcoal on a stone stove. Lighting was obtained from 
oil candelabra. 

While the public baths (thermae] occupied an important place in the social life of Romans, some of the 
houses were equipped with bathing facilities. Copper pipes have been found, although drain pipes have not 
been considered adaptable for sewage disposal. Construction was of stone, brick, and wood, and window glaw.s 
was apparently in fairly common use. 



LATE ROMAN HOUSE House of Pansa 




APARTMENTS ON 
SECOND FLOOR 



ROME 

The original settlement of 
Rome lay on the banks of the 
Tiber near the later Forum 
Romanum. From this center, 
protected by the surrounding 
hills, the city fanned out in 
all directions. It became the 
scene for a series of ever- 
greater projects glorifying the 
military leaders and emperors. 
In addition to the temples, 
fora, and palaces, huge facil- 
ities for entertainment were 
built for diversion of the 
masses the baths, colossia, 
theaters, stadia, and the cir- 
cus. 

There is no indication that 
the street system in Rome 
was other than an irregular 
pattern typical of great cities 
which grew by accretion. In 
contrast to a small city like 
Pompeii, Rome grew in popu- 
lation, suffered speculation in 
land and buildings, became 
congested, and was overrun 
with slums. Buildings in- 
creased in height until Augus- 
tus found it necessary to de- 
cree a height limit of 70 feet. 





A Forum Romanum J 

B Forum of Emperors K 

C Palace of the Emperors L 

D Colosseum M 

E Circus Maximus N 

F Cloaca Maxima O 

G Claudian Aqueduct P 

H Baths of Caracalla 



Baths of Trajan 

Baths of Diocletian 

Theater of Pompey 

Theater of Marcellus 

Pantheon 

Tomb of Hadrian 

Circus Flaminius 



Ostia, the seaport for Rome, was likewise crowded and 
contained many apartments. The House of Diana is an 
example. It was five stories high, built of brick masonry, 
although many of the tenements in Rome were constructed 
of wood and were serious fire hazards. In the House of 
Diana there was a row of apartments facing the exterior and 
a row facing the interior court. A balcony surrounded the 
third floor. Water was supplied to the tenants at a fountain 
in the courtyard, and it is probable that a latrine was lo- 
cated on the first floor whence waste could be disposed. 
Shops were on the ground floor with interior stairs leading 
from each to an apartment above. 

There is evidence of apartment buildings more com- 
modious than this example, but there were undoubtedly 
many tenements offering less space. One poet spoke of the 
necessity for him to climb 200 steps to reach his dwelling. 



S Shop E Entrance 

APARTMENT HOUSE, OSTIA 



F Fountain 



THE ROMAN FORA 




The Forum Romanum was the original 
center of business and political life in 
the early Republic. In it the triumphant 
generals built their memorials to the 
successful military campaigns. In the 
days of the Empire, the emperors built 
additional fora, and the total area was 
a magnificent collection of monumental 
buildings unparalleled in splendor. 
About these great public spaces were 
the innumerable shops and crowded 
tenements of the people. 



nnnnnn 



nnnnnn 



nnnnro 




n nnnnnn 



nnnnna nnnnnn 



nnnnnn nnnnnn 



i 



A Forum Romanum 

B Comitium 

C Arch of Septimus Severus 

D Basilica Julia 

E Temple Castorum 

F Temple Vestae 

Atrium Vestae 

H Arch of Augustus 

J Basilica Aemilia 

K Temple of Julius Caesar 

L Temple of Augustus 

M Temple of Saturn 

N Temple of Vespasian 

O Rostrum 

P Curia 

Q Forum of Julius Caesar 

R Forum of Augustus 

S Forum of Trajan 

T Basilica Ulpia 

U Temple of Trajan 

V Forum of Norva 

W Palace of Tiberius 



TIMGAD 

The Pattern of a Roman Camp 




CHAPTER 3 



THE MEDIEVAL TOWN 



Out of the Dark Ages. By the fifth century after Christ the Roman Empire had 
crumbled under the weight of luxury, pomp, and ceremony. Western civilization 
declined, trade disintegrated, and the urban population returned to rural life. 
Cities shrank in size and importance, and social and economic confusion followed. 

Barbaric rulers established city-states and formed the nucleus of future nations. 
The economy was rooted in agriculture, and the rulers parceled their domains among 
vassal lords who pledged military support for the kingdom. The people were depend- 
ent upon the land for their subsistence and entered a state of serfdom under their 
lords. The feudal system was the new order. 

Wars among the rival feudal lords were frequent. Strategic sites were sought for 
their castles, and within these fortified strongholds the serfs of the surrounding 
countryside found protection. Through centuries of the Dark Ages monasteries 
served as havens of refuge for the oppressed, and the church strengthened its posi- 
tion during these trying times. This influence combined with the power of the feudal 
lords renewed the advantages of communal existence within the protective walls. 
Invention of the battering ram and catapult increased the danger from enemies, 
forced the construction of heavier walls, and gave increased impetus for a return to 
urban life. The countryside was not safe, and fortifications were extended to include 
the dwellings that clustered about the castle and monastery. 

Castle, Church^ and Guild. Movement to the towns brought a marked revival 
of trade about the eleventh century. Advantages accrued to the feudal lords in 
return for protection they collected higher rent for their land. Many new towns 
were founded, and sites of old Roman towns were restored. Urban life was encour- 
aged by the lords; they granted charters which secured certain rights and privileges 
of citizenship to the urban dwellers. This new form of freedom was attractive to those 
who had lived their lives in serfdom. 

Then the merchants and craftsmen formed guilds to strengthen their social and 
economic position. Weavers, butchers, tailors, masons, millers, metalworkers, car- 

33 



CARCASSONNE 




A Market Square 

B Castle 

C Church of St. Nazaire 




NOERDLINGEN 



A Cathedral Plaza 
B Moat 




Medieval cities of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries usually had irregular street patterns and heavy walls. 
Carcassonne was restored hy Viollet-le-duc in the nineteenth century. In it we see the castle (B) with its 
own moat and walls, the market place (A), and the Church of St. Nazaire (C). The plan of Noerdlingen shows 
the radial and lateral pattern of irregular roadways with the church plaza as the principal focal point of the 
town. The city of the Middle Ages grew within the confines of the walls. While the population was small, there 
was space in the town, but when it increased the buildings were packed more closely and the open spaces filled. 
Sanitation and water supply remained the same. The result was intolerable congestion, lack of hygiene, and 
pestilence. 




MONTPAZIER 

A Cathedral Square B Market Square 

During the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries colonial cities 
were founded by young empires to protect their trade and provide 
military security. They were platted for allocation of sites to 
settlers and the regular plan is a distinct contrast to the informal 
development of the normal medieval town. 



36 THE CITY OF THE PAST 

penters, leatherworkers, glassmakers, all established regulations to control their 
production, maintain their prices, and protect their trade. A new social order was 
in the making a wealthy mercantile class was rising to challenge the power of 
the feudal lords. 

The early medieval town was dominated by the church or monastery and the castle 
of the lord. The church plaza became the market place and, with citizenship bestowed 
upon the people and merchant guilds established, the town hall and guild hall were 
built on or adjacent to the market plaza. The castle was surrounded by its own walls 
as a final protection in the event an enemy penetrated the main fortifications and 
entered the city. 

Distinction between town and country was sharp, but this demarcation and the 
small size of the city provided ready access to the open countryside in times of peace. 
Aiding the protection of cities, the town sites were usually on irregular terrain, 
occupying hilltops or islands. The town was designed to fit the topographic feaures. 
The circulation and building spaces were molded to these irregular features and 
naturally assumed an informal character. 

The roads radiated generally from the church plaza and market square to the gates, 
with secondary lateral roadways connecting them. The irregular pattern was probably 
consciously devised as a means to confuse an enemy in the event he gained entrance 
to the town. Although the battering ram and the catapult were instruments for 
assault upon the heavy fortifications and hot oil poured from the battlements was a 
means for mass defense, hand-to-hand combat was the principal form of military 
action. In the maze of wandering streets the advantage rested with the inhabitants 
against an enemy unfamiliar with the town arrangement, 

The Picturesque Town. The abbes and artisans were sensitive to ihe form and 
materials of the buildings they erected. Under their guidance, care was exercised in 
the placement of, and relation between, the structures of the town. Buildings assumed 
a functional character in both form and location. They were not built to be "pictur- 
esque"; that quality emerged from the consideration given to town building by its 
builders. Accidents of vista and contrasts of form and color resulted from the contours 
of the land and the ingenious selection of the sites for each structure. The commanding 
position of the cathedral or church gave a singular unity to the town, a unity strengthened 
by the horizontal envelope of the encircling walls. 

The entire town was treated with a structural logic that characterized the archi- 
tectural treatment of the Romanesque and early Gothic buildings. Open spaces the 
streets and plazas developed as integral parts of the sites upon which the buildings 
were erected. With the exception of a few main roads between the gates and the mar- 
ket place, streets were used as pedestrian circulation about the town rather than traffic 
arteries as we know them today. Wheel traffic was generally absent on all but the 
main roadways. 

Medieval Dwellings. Conservation of heat in the cold climates and the restrictive 
area of the town caused the houses to be built in connected rows along the narrow 




MONT ST. MICHEL 



It was the church rather than the palace that 
dominated the medieval town. Encircled by its 
protective walls, the town was small. In later 
days the battlements were elaborately engi- 
neered, as in Naarden, and the populace was 
further separated from the open spaces about 
the town. 




38 THE CITY OF THE PAST 

streets. Behind these rows of dwellings open space was reserved and in them the 
domestic animals were kept and gardens cultivated. The workshop and kitchen 
occupied the ground floor of the dwelling. Here the merchants and craftsmen oper- 
ated their enterprises and manufactured their goods. There was little distinction 
between classes among the population of the early medieval town. The workers lived 
in the homes of their employers as apprentices in the trade or business. The living 
and sleeping space was on the second floor of the dwelling. The simple plan pro- 
vided little privacy within the house. Some of the burghers enjoyed separate sleeping 
rooms, but the accommodations were universally simple and modest in their appoint- 
ments. The chimney and fireplace replaced the open hearth of the ancient house. 
Windows were small and covered with crude glass or oiled parchment. Facilities 
for waste disposal within the dwelling were not usually provided, although some 
of the houses were equipped with privies. Construction was of masonry or wood 
frame filled with wattle. Thatch covered the roofs, and the fire hazard caused some 
towns either to prohibit this type of roofing or to encourage fire resistant materials 
by offering special privileges for the use of fireproof materials. Streets were usually 
paved and maintained by the owners of property facing upon them. This may account, 
in part, for their narrow width. 

Medieval Institutions. Meditation and study characterized the monastery. It 
was extended to research by scholars intent upon the cultivation of professional skills. 
Monasteries and the guilds combined to form the university, and here were welcomed 
those who desired to study in withdrawal from the market place. Here also were 
conducted research and training in law, medicine, and the arts. Universities were 
assisted by the growing wealth of the merchant class. The universities at Bologna 
and Paris were founded in the twelfth century and those at Cambridge and Salamanca 
in the thirteenth century. The churches also established hospitals in which the sick 
could receive care and treatment not theretofore available to the people. 

Life in medieval cities had color, a color visible to all the people. The church pro- 
vided pageantry and gave drama to the life of every man. It was an institution in 
which all men could participate, giving inspiration and adding a measure of beauty 
to the existence of the people. It lifted people above baseness and encouraged better 
deeds. It offered music and meditation. The sense of participation produced a pic- 
turesqueness in life reflected in the picturesqueness of the towns. The people 
merchants, artisans, and peasants mingled in the market place, the guild hall, and 
the church; a human scale pervaded the informal environment of the city of the 
people. 

There were innumerable hardships suffered and endured by the people of the 
Middle Ages, but in the early towns they did not lose the sense of intermingling. Each 
man had the feeling of being an active citizen in his community. This attribute of 
the urban environment a social well-being was, however, soon to be dissipated. 




MEDIEVAL HOUSE 
TWELFTH CENTURY 



GROUND FLOOR 



Shop 

Kitchen 

Courtyard 

Well 

Privy 

Living Hall 

Sleeping Room 

Court 



FIRST FLOOR 



H 



Entrance to 
First Floor 
Living Hall 
Store Room 
Below 
Chapel 
"Solar" (Sleep- 
ing Dormitory) 
Above 




SMALL NORMAN MANOR 
FIFTEENTH CENTURY 



THE MEDIEVAL DWELLING 

The medieval dwelling was conceived as an individual fortress. Before congestion overtook the town, the average 
dwelling was two stories in height. The work-room and storage were on the first floor or "basement." Sometimes 
the kitchen was also located here. Living, dining and sleeping took place on the second floor. Masonry was the 
usual construction, although wood frame filled with wattle and clay and roofed with thatch was not infrequent. 
It was the forerunner of the half-timber construction later used to a great extent. 

As crowding increased, each building lot was used more intensively. Rooms were grouped about a tiny 
interior courtyard in which a cistern was located. Interior privies were sometimes provided, although there was 
no sewage disposal, refuse being discarded in the streets or in cesspools beneath the dwelling floors. Heating 
was provided by a fireplace, and lighting was obtained from wicks dipped in fish oil. 

Continued intensity in the use of land raised the height of buildings to three and four stories. Half -timber 
construction permitted the projection of upper floors beyond each lower floor to further exaggerate the con- 
gestion. 

For comparison, a small manor house is shown. It contained a "hall" and chapel on the second floor. All 
living, dining and cooking were performed on this floor. A dormitory, or "solar," was located in the tower above 
the chapel. A drain pipe was imbedded in the wall for disposal of waste. The windows had no glass and were 
protected with shutters. The lower floor was a vaulted store room. The manor houses were extended in size and 
formed the nucleus of villages in many cases. 




SIENA 

The informal vista of the medieval town. The streets were pri- 
marily for people on foot. 



CHILHAM 

A village square in Tudor England. 
Always desiring to preserve the quiet 
repose of their beautiful country- 
side, the villages of England did 
not mar the natural landscape set- 
ting. 




C. S. Ferris 




CHAPTER 4 



THE NEO-CLASSIC CITY 



Mercantilism and Concentration. The number of towns increased rapidly during 
the Middle Ages, but they remained relatively small in population. Many had only 
a few hundred people, and the larger cities seldom exceeded 50,000 inhabitants. 
The physical size was restricted by the girth of the fortifications, water supply, and 
sanitation, the distance across the town seldom exceeding a mile. Water was avail- 
able at the town fountain. There was no sewage disposal, and all drainage was by 
way of the streets. 

As long as the population remained small, these apparent deficiencies presented 
no serious problem. Communication between towns was slow, facilities for transport 
were cumbersome, and necessity for mutual assistance in times of conflict urgent. 
The towns were built within ready reach of each other. Most were within a day's 
journey apart and frequently a round trip to a neighboring town could be made on 
foot in a single day. 

World travel and trade, however, brought a concentration of people to centers 
situated on main crossroads. During the fourteenth century Florence grew from 
45,000 people to 90,000 people, Paris from 100,000 to 240,000, and Venice reached 
200,000. Successful merchants consolidated their interests in several towns, and 
moneylending helped their enterprise. Commerce increased between towns and 
countries. The danger of military aggression gradually diminished, and safety for 
travel increased. 

The mercantile economy expanded, and the power of the feudal lords declined. 
Ownership of the land gradually shifted to a new caste of noblemen, the wealthy 
merchants. The church accumulated a vast domain and there emerged two privileged 
classes, the nobles and the clergy. The guilds declined and medieval serfdom dis- 
appeared, but the facilities for processing materials and goods the mills, ovens, 
presses came into the possession of the noble class. The peasants were required to 
pay tolls of various sorts for the use of these facilities. The feudal economy had been 
rooted in the land, and the new economy was dominated by the possession and con- 
trol of money. 

40 



THE NEO-CLASSIC CITY 41 

Congestion and Slums. The growing population forced a congestion within the 
cities not present in earlier days. The traditional height of two stories for dwellings 
changed to three and four stories. The upper floors were projected beyond the first 
floor, and the roofs often spanned the street width. Open space within the interior 
blocks of dwellings was built up. Population density increased without change in the 
systems of water supply or sanitation. 

Wheel traffic increased. The narrow streets became congested, dark, and filth- 
ridden from refuse thrown from dwelling windows, and provision for elimination 
of waste remained inadequate. The call of gare de I'eau was familiar in France and, 
contracted to the anglicized "gardy loo," it became equally familiar in Edinburgh. 
Excreta were disposed of in cesspools beneath dwelling floors; there or in the streets 
it was left to ripen for fertilizer. Odors from filth in the streets was overcome by 
keeping the windows or shutters closed. Ventilation was by way of the chimney only. 
Disease spread rapidly in times of epidemic; in the fourteenth century the Black 
Death, a pestilence of typhus, took the lives of nearly half the urban population. 

During this period the cities reverted to a condition inferior to the days of Rome 
a thousand years before. The manor house of the nobleman grew spacious while the 
typical dwelling of the poor remained cramped and was moved higher into the attic. 
The first sewer was installed in London after the Black Death. Water closets were 
not introduced until the sixteenth century in Spain, France, and England, and it was 
early in the seventeenth century when water supply was connected to dwellings in 
London. Fire hazards were prevalent everywhere. As a precautionary measure an 
ordinance in London, in the thirteenth century, required that slate or tile roofs replace 
the usual reed and straw. It is interesting to note a similar order that appeared in 
the American Colonies at a somewhat later date. It read: 

New Amsterdam, 15 December 1657: 

The Director General and Council of New Netherland to All, who shall see these presents or 
hear them read, Greeting! Know ye, that to prevent the misfortunes of conflagrations, the roofs 
of reeds, the wooden and plastered chimneys have long ago been condemned but nevertheless 
these orders are obstinately and carelessly neglected by many of the inhabitants. . . . The said 
Director General and Council have decided it to be necessary, not only to renew their former 
ordinances, but also to amplify the same and to increase the fines. . . .* 

Overcrowding within the small dwellings of the poorer people further increased 
the hazards to health and the spread of epidemics. In 1539 an Act of Parliament 
mentioned that "great mischiefs daily grow and increase by reason of pestering of 
houses with divers families, harboring of inmates, and converting great houses into 
tenements, and erection of new houses." 

Gunpowder. In the fifteenth century gunpowder was invented, and new techniques 
of warfare were introduced. The feudal lords had relied upon citizen-soldiers to 
man the crenellated parapets in time of siege, but the new weapons of attack and 
defense required larger numbers of trained professional soldiers. Military engi- 

1 Housing Comes of Age, Straus and Wegg, Oxford University Press, New York, 1938. 




TOURNAY 



The invention of gunpowder marked the beginning of the end of the walled town. Prior to development of 
cannon a dry or water moat surrounded the town walls and provided adequate protection from besieging 
enemies. Gunpowder increased the range of effective attack and forced the building of ramparts beyond the 
walls to extend the distance between the town and the attacking forces. Military engineering became an 
important phase of town building and complicated systems of water moats and ramparts were devised outside 
the main walls of the city. These broad spaces forced the enemy into more distant positions for their cannon. 

The plan of Tournay illustrates the elaborate system of defense fortifications and shows the siege of that 
city by the Duke of Marlborough in 1709. The position of mortars and cannon, together with their range, is 
indicated in this plan. 

In the late 18th and early 19th centuries long range artillery was greatly improved and (he old systems of 
walls, moats, and ramparts were reduced in effectiveness for military defense, and the form of the city under- 
went drastic alterations. The walls and ramparts were levelled, the moats were filled-in and boulevards were 
built in the open space as in the famous Ringstrasse encircling the original town of Vienna. These spaces 
separated the old town from the surrounding suburbs but, as in Paris, they were gradually built-up in response 
lo the ruthless speculation of the late 19th century and open space disappeared from the city. 



VIENNA 





Vienna before 1857 



Vienna after 1857 



THE NEO-CLASSIC CITY 43 

neering became a science. Fortifications were extended, and heavy bastions, moats, 
and outposts were built. Extension of the area occupied by the fortifications 
created a "no-man's-land", and separation between town and country became more 
distinct. Open space outside the walls was further removed from the urban dweller. 
People came to the cities in large numbers to participate in the expanding commer- 
cial enterprise and fill the ranks of professional armies. 

The Renaissance. In France the kings achieved a semblance of national unity in the 
fifteenth century. Elsewhere cities remained provincial dukedoms with wealthy mer- 
chant families wielding control over them. It became the ambition of rulers to display 
their affluence and power by improving their cities. They engaged in intellectual pur- 
suits, drawing upon the classic heritage of Rome for this cultural activity. The noble 
families of Florence, Venice, Rome, and Lombardy desired to embellish their cities; 
the Medicis, Borgias, and Sf orzas built themselves new palaces on which were draped 
the classic motifs. A formalism was grafted upon the medieval town although the 
buildings retained the characteristic fortress quality of the Middle Ages. The basic 
form of cities did not change, but the structure was decorated with fagades of classic 
elements. 

The Church participated in this movement. Residence of the Popes was re-established 
in Rome, and work on the Vatican Palace was begun. Pope Julius planned to replace 
the old basilica of St. Peter with a great church which would become the center of 
Christendom. 

Feverish preoccupation with the arts gripped the merchant princes, churchmen, 
and the kings. Practice of the arts became a profession. The system of apprentice 
training in Italy prepared men to work in a variety of artistic fields. An apprentice to 
a painter would also work in the shop of a goldsmith; a sculptor would study archi- 
tecture. Versatility was a characteristic of the artists and their services were given 
encouragement. Leonardo da Vinci practiced all the arts and became a planner, military 
engineer, and inventor as well. Kings, merchant nobles, and Popes were patrons of 
the arts and bid heavily for the services of the growing number of practitioners. 

The strange anonymity of the master-builders of medieval towns no longer prevailed 
in the Renaissance. Robert de Luzarches, William of Sens (Canterbury Cathedral), 
Geoffrey de Noyes (Lincoln Cathedral), Jean-le-Loup, and Henrico di Cambodia 
(Milan Cathedral) are seldom recorded in the history of medieval town building, 
whereas a host of individuals received personal recognition in the Renaissance and 
later periods. The names of Brunelleschi, Alberti, Bramante, Peruzzi and Sangallo 
in Italy, and Bullant, de TOrme, Lescot in France, are as well known as their works. 
Many others achieved world renown; their names were more prominent than the patrons 
who commissioned their works. Mansart, Bullet, Blondel, Lemercier, de Brosse, Le 
Notre, Percier, and Fontaine in France; Bernini, Longhena, Borromini, Palladio, 
Michelangelo, Raphael in Italy; Inigo Jones, Christopher Wren, the Brothers Adam 
in England; all these artists enjoyed the confidence and patronage of Popes, kings, and 
merchants. 




PIAZZA OF ST. MARK'S 

A Cathedral 

B Palace of the Doges 

C Campanile 

Procuriatie Vecchia 

E Procuriatie Nuove 

F Libraria Vecchia 



Formal plazas of the Renaissance -were carved out of the 
medieval town and given monumental scale and form rem- 
iniscent of classic antiquity. Exterior space was enclosed 
with formal fagades, and the shapes were modelled like 
sculptural pieces isolated from the rest of the city. 



PIAZZA OF ST. PETER'S 

A Piazza 
B Cathedral 
C Vatican 



PIAZZA OF ST. PETER'S FROM THE CATHEDRAL 





THE NEO-CLASSIC CITY 45 

Monarchy and Monument alism. The monumental character of the classic re- 
turned to the city. Every form had its centerline, and every space its axis. The structural 
quality of the Middle Ages was replaced by a classic sculptural form, modeled sym- 
metrically. The "barbaric" art of medieval cities was forsaken. With haughty disdain 
Moliere called it: 

The rank taste of Gothic monuments, 

These odius monsters of the ignorant centuries, 

Which the torrents of barbarism spewed forth. 

The axis and the strong centerline symbolized the growing concentration of power. 
Kings of France became monarchs, wealthy merchants in Italy became autocratic 
dukes, large landowners in England became lord barons, and the Popes became benevo- 
lent partners of all. Louis XIV of France gave voice to the spirit of the times when he 
shouted his famous words, "L 9 tat, dest moi" 

Out of the cramped medieval town were carved formal "squares." The modeling of 
spatial forms absorbed the attention and skills of designers and planners, and classic 
elements were ingeniously assembled to form the spaces. Michelangelo created the 
Campodiglio on the Capitoline Hill in Rome, Bernini designed the huge Piazza of St. 
Peter's, the Piazza di San Marco in Venice was completed, Rainaldi built the twin 
churches on the Piazza del Popolo, the Place Royale (now Place des Vosges) and 
Place des Victoires were built in Paris. 

Long-range artillery removed the advantage of the old walls for military defense. 
Louis XIV ordered Vauban, his military engineer, to redesign the defense system. 
Vauban tore down the walls and built earthwork ramparts beyond the city. Within the 
leveled space of the old walls boulevards and promenades were laid. The famous 
Ringstrasse of Vienna occupied the open space left when the city walls of that city were 
demolished. Cities were opening up, and the city of the Middle Ages was being released 
from its clutter. Transition from the Renaissance Period to the Baroque Period was 
in process. 

The Baroque City. An air of grandeur permeated the courts of kings. Louis XIV 
ordered Le Notre to design the gardens of Versailles. Here was space of unparalleled 
proportions, scale of incomprehensible size. Here was the conception of a man who, 
having achieved domination over the lives of men, confidently set about to become the 
master of nature. The egotism of rulers knew no limitations, nor could it brook a hint 
of equality; Louis XIV threw the wealthy financier, Foucquet, into prison for his 
temerity to build a chateau almost as fine as the king's. 

In the eighteenth century the Baroque city expanded, and dominance of the ruler 
intensified. The avenues of Versailles focused upon the royal palace, whereas the 
whole city of Karlsruhe as well as Mannheim revolved about the palaces and great 
gardens of the royalty. 

Pla,zas of the seventeenth century had been designed as isolated, enclosed spaces. 
They were now opened and less confined, as though moved by a desire to recapture the 



VERSAILLES 

A Palace 
B Gardens 
C Town 





KARLSRUHE 



A Palace 
B Gardens 
C Town 



THE BAROQUE CITY 

The centerline and the axis symbolized the 
mighty power of the monarch. Louis XIV 
ordered the removal of his palace from 
the congested city of Paris to the open 
hunting grounds of Versailles, and he 
ordered the avenues to radiate from his 
magnificent palace. The entire city of 
Karlsruhe was designed to revolve about 
and radiate from the Prince's palace. After 
the fire of 1666 Christopher Wren proposed 
a monumental plan for the rebuilding of 
London. He conceded the new power 
dominant in England by placing upon the 
major focal point the Stock Exchange. But 
the plan was not accepted; the necessary 
adjustment of property boundaries and 
prices could not be resolved. 




LONDON (Christopher Wren's Plan) 



A Stock Exchange 

B St. Paul's Cathedral 

C Tower of London 

D London Bridge 

E Old Walls 




PIAZZA DEL POPOLO, Rome 

A Piazza D Church of Santa Maria del Popolo 

B Pincio Hill and Gardens E Obelisk 

C Porto del Popolo F Twin Churches by Rainaldi 



During the Baroque period, the desire for 
unconfined space gripped the city rulers 
and their designers. The tremendous Place 
de la Concorde, designed by Gabriel, was 
created as part of the Paris extension plan 
to exalt King Louis XV. No longer was it 
a plaza framed with buildings like Place 
Vendome. It was rather a campus between 
other open spaces, the Tuileries Gardens, 
the Champs Elysees, and the River Seine. 
The Plazas in Nancy were linked with a 
broad avenue of trees which was itself a 
plaza. Piazza del Popolo exhibited the 
same characteristics hi three dimensions. A 
series of garden terraces continued the 
open space up the Pincio Hill on one side, 
and open space extended the vista on the 
other. 





NANCY 



A Place de la Concorde 
B Tuileries Gardens 
C Champs Elysees 



PLACE DE LA CONCORDE, Paris 



A Place Stanislas 
B Place Carriere 
C Place Royale 



PLACE VENDOME 
Paris 





48 THE CITY OF THE PAST 

space of the countryside. Design shifted from walled-in architectural forms to an 
extension and expansion of open space. Jules-Hardouin Mansart, architect for the 
palace buildings at Versailles, designed the Place Vendome with greater dimensions 
than previous squares in Paris. The three squares by Here de Corny in Nancy were 
connected, the continuity of open space emphasized by colonnades and enhanced by 
a tree-lined avenue. 

Probably the most dramatic example of the new surge to penetrate the city with 
open space was the Place de la Concorde designed by Jacques-Ange Gabriel during 
the reign of Louis XV. In this square, space is almost completely released. It flows 
from the gardens of the Tuileries and the Louvre on one side into the broad avenue 
of the Champs lysees begun by Louis XIV to connect Paris with his palace at Ver- 
sailles. The scale is further amplified by the Seine river lying along one side. Opposite 
the river is the only group of buildings facing this tremendous square. 

Another departure in urban design was the Piazza del Popolo in Rome designed 
by Valadier. A three-dimensional transition of space was obtained with a series of 
terraces linking the lower level of the square and the gardens on the Pincio Hill above. 
Continuity replaced the enclosure of open space as the new direction in civic design. 

In England the classic revival came later than elsewhere, the Tudor style having 
absorbed the Renaissance shock. Recoiling from the hazards of overhanging upper 
stories, a building ordinance in 1619 decreed that the walls of buildings would hence- 
forth be built vertically from foundation to roof. Timed with the onrushing wave of 
classic formalism, this law aided the introduction of the "Italian Style" ushered in by 
Inigo Jones, its leading exponent. 

The landowning class had tempered the rise of monarchy in England and the monu- 
mentalism of the "grand plan" did not quite take root there. Christopher Wren at- 
tempted it in his plan for rebuilding London after the fire of 1666. He went so far as 
to place the Stock Exchange at the symbolic focal point of his plan instead of the 
traditional palace or cathedral. Even this acknowledgment of the domination of mer- 
cantilism in England was not enough to offset disagreement over the necessary 
reapportionment of property values destroyed in the fire. 

Formalism permeated the English Renaissance, but it was expressed in terms of 
quiet repose rather than striking grandeur. This quality is observed in the simple 
curved building forms facing broad open spaces of the Circus and Royal Crescent in 
Bath designed by John Wood, the younger. The same quality was built into the undulat- 
ing surfaces and free curving forms of Lansdowne Crescent, also in Bath. John Nash 
carried on these curving plan forms overlooking spacious open parks in his designs 
for the Park Crescent and Regent's Park developments in London. 

Formalism was unobtrusively introduced in the enclosed squares of London during 
the eighteenth century. They were intended not as impressive plazas, but as places for 
the quiet relaxation of the surrounding residents. These simple, though formal, open 
spaces were created largely by builders who would be classified today as "specu- 
lators" ; they were in the business of subdividing land and building homes. Many are 



THE NEO-CLASSIC CITY 49 

unknown, as in the case of Lansdowne Crescent in Bath, but two prominent builders in 
London were James Burton and Thomas Cubitt and they lent a dignity to their profes- 
sion by the work they performed. 

Behind the Facades. The fine rows of formal dwellings and squares in England, 
the monumental vistas, royal gardens and the palaces of France, the well-modeled 
piazzas in Italy, all had been built for the upper classes, the wealthy merchants, and 
the kings. The lot of the people of lesser means had not been substantially improved. 
It was not the purpose of the builders of the Baroque town to engage in reforms. They 
were concerned with such improvement of the urban environment that would maintain 
the prestige and glory of their exalted position in society. The broad avenues provided 
more than satisfaction of the ego and vanity in despots, more than delightful prom- 
enades for the elegant carriages of the aristocrats; they were strategic means with 
which to impress the populace with the power and discipline of marching armies. 

Behind the fine fagades of the plazas and wide avenues dwelt the congested urban 
population. The city lacked sanitation, sewers, water distribution, and drainage. Epi- 
demics and pestilence were frequent, and the poverty was appalling. A breach was 
widening between the aristocracy and the masses. Fratricidal wars of religion and 
social restlessness of the seventeenth century were followed by the stamp of the des- 
potic heel and the courtiers. Oppression brought revolutions in the eighteenth century. 
The Baroque city had unfolded its grand open spaces and they were overlapping upon 
the people. Another change was taking place: machines were replacing handcraft 
methods for making goods for trade. 

Colonial Expansion America. Aided by the mariner's compass, courageous 
explorers in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries extended the net of colonial empires 
over the face of the globe. The eyes of people everywhere looked toward the new world 
in North America for relief from oppression and chaos. Colonies in the Americas were 
settled by pioneers impelled by a burning desire for freedom. Far removed from the 
mother-countries and with a whole great land as an ever-widening frontier to the west, 
the settlements did not grow as permanent fortified towns. Strong forts were established 
at some early settlements Havana, San Juan, St. Augustine, New Amsterdam but 
the barricades thrown up as protection from attack by Indians offered no impediment 
to the development of villages in the way that fortifications had restricted the growth of 
medieval cities in Europe. 

The initial settlement was sometimes irregular in plan; the Wall Street district in 
Manhattan retains the pattern of the early settlement of New Amsterdam about 1660, 
and Boston streets meandered about the Common. But most of the towns were platted 
in advance for allocation of the land to settlers. The people who ventured across the 
sea to this new land sought opportunities from which they had been deprived in their 
homeland. Freedom meant the right to their land and possessions for their households. 
The principal occupation was agriculture; the towns were small and within walking 
distance from all parts to the countryside about them. 

The quiet New England towns reflected the modest character of the puritan. The 




BATH 




A The Circus 

B Royal Crescent 

C Victoria Park 



Lansdowne* 
Crescenf 



Open space was sought in England as on the continent. The handsome forms facing broad, informal park spaces 
are shown in Lansdowne Terrace, the Circus, and the Royal Crescent in Bath. 

The formal squares in the residential districts of Bloomsbury, London, were not monumental in design or 
size, but they identify a conscious effort to improve the environment in cities. 

These were developments for the upper classes, not the poor. The king ordered the Regent's Park Project 
in London as a place of dignified town houses for the well-to-do. The contrast in living environment is indicated 
in the plan of the Bloomsbury district, the contrast between the rows of two- and three-story residences about 
the "squares," and the crowded buildings in the network contiguous to the Bloomsbury development. 



The Royal Crescent 




British Information Service, 




APARTMENT 
EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 

A Russel Square 

B Bedford Square 

C Bloomsbury Square 

D British Museum 



Revival of classicism and a law in Eng- 
land requiring exterior walls to run verti- 
cally from foundation to roof changed the 
appearance of houses but did not alter the 
crowded multi-family flats and humble dwell- 
ings of the poor. The illustration shows a 
plan of an eighteenth-century flat building. 
It is six stories high with a common stair 
to each dwelling unit, not unlike our cus- 
tomary "walk-up" apartments of today. The 
accommodations were designed for upper- 
middle class families, but lent itself to sub- 
division into smaller units for the poorer class. 

The residential public gardens introduced 
by land developers of the eighteenth century 
wore surrounded by the handsome Georgian 
faades of fine dwellings. While formal in 
design, these open spaces provided an en- 
vironment of quiet dignity rather than lavish 
display. Behind these dwellings and in the 
older sections of narrow streets and alleys 
lived the less prosperous. 



BLOOMSBURY, LONDON 







FEET 



PEKING, China 

A Forbidden City 

B Imperial City 

C Tartar City 

D Chinese City 



Within each of the cells 
surrounded by streets in 
the sketch is a maze of 
narrow minor roads, also 
laid out in rectilinear form. 



500' 



COPAN, Honduras A 
B 
C 
D 



Great Plaza 

Middle Court 

Court of Hieroglyphic Stairway 

Eastern Court 

Western Court 



There is little record of ancient cities of the Orient. Mohenjo-Daro in 3,000 B.C. had a fairly regular layout of 
streets, and cities surrounding the great temples of Angkor Vat and Angkor Thorn were probably laid in a 
formal pattern. The power of feudal rulers was maintained with military force in China as elsewhere in the 
World, and we see the stamp on the plan of Peking. 

Although Peking was founded at an earlier date, the present plan stems from the medieval period about 
the eleventh century. The original city of the Tartars was extended with the addition of the Chinese city. The 
Forbidden City of the Emperor lies in the center. The dwellings are cramped and crowded along an intricate 
system of regular narrow alleys, but the royal gardens and lakes occupy a large area of the city. 

In South and Central America there arose the highly developed civilizations of the Incas, the AztecK, and 
the Mayas. Macchu-Picchu is an Incan city of stone perched, terrace on terrace, upon a dramatic mountain 
site. Only the great temple groups of the Mayas remain. Copan is such a group and it probably served as th<* 
combined civic, religious and recreational center for the surrounding population. The people must have lived in 
dwellings of wood, plaster, and thatch, there being no evidence of habitations. A two-cast c society nobles and 
slaves the produce from agriculture was allocated in three parts, one part for the nobles, one part for the 
slave-workers, and one part as a reserve supply in the event of drought or disaster. 



HOPI PUEBLO, Shupolovi 




The Hopi Indian village of Shupolovi was the organi- 
zation of a clan or group of clans who built their 
villages for protection from their enemies. An agrarian 
people, their society was communal in political or- 
ganization. Perched atop the mesas of northern Ari- 
zona the people sought their scant water supply at 
lower levels where they carefully tilled small plot* 
of level land. 

One-story Buildings 
Two-story Buildings 
Three-story Buildings 



THE NEO-CLASSIC CITY 53 

center was the meeting house and the Common, and each family had its own dwelling, 
albeit humble. The environment was one of beauty in simplicity communities of 
neighbors. In the South the towns were settled by folks also eager to improve their lot, 
but they reflected the stamp of the Crown. Class distinctions, while dormant for a time, 
were retained, and formality characterized the life and pattern of the towns. 

In Williamsburg, Virginia, the quiet though formal repose of an English town was 
transplanted to a new land. Through the beneficence of John D. Rockefeller, Jr., it was 
recently restored and offers an impression of the early colonial town. Williamsburg 
was settled in 1633, and in 1693 the College of William and Mary was granted a 
charter and located there. The town became the capital of the Virginia Colony in 1699. 

The surveyor, Theodorick Bland, laid out the city with formal axes adapted from 
the aristocratic mode in Europe. The Duke of Gloucester Street was the main avenue, 
extending from the College to the Capitol building. A "green" was placed at right 
angles to this street and terminated at the palace. The town was subdivided into resi- 
dence lots of one-half acre each. It was a formal plan, but it neither revolved about 
monumental features nor was it overpowered by them. A human scale pervaded the 
environment; the town appeared to exist for the people who lived there rather than the 
rulers who dominated it. 

Early Philadelphia and Baltimore may have enjoyed this quality, but it is not 
apparent in their plans. The City of Brotherly Love was planned by the surveyor, 
Thomas Holme, for William Penn in 1682. It was a rigid gridiron street pattern ex- 
tending between the Delaware and Schuylkill Rivers. Two main streets, Broad and 
Market, bisected the plan in each direction and intersected at the public square in the 
center of the town. A square block was allocated for a park in each quadrant. 

The plan had little distinction. Penn expected it to be a town of single houses and 
shade trees. By the middle of the eighteenth century, however, it was common practice 
to build the houses from lot line to lot line and the open spaces were lost within the 
walls of brick that lined the gridiron streets. Continuous rows of buildings shut off 
access to the rear of the property, and alleys were cut through the center of the blocks. 
Then dwellings were built along the alleys, only to become the quaint and narrow 
business and residential streets for which the city is known today. 

The aristocratic paternalism that characterized the early settlements in the southern 
colonies was reflected in the plan of Savannah, Georgia. Laid out in 1733 by James 
Oglethorpe, the plan was a rectilinear street system liberally interspersed with park 
squares along the avenues. The streets linked these parks and created continuity of 
open space whsn the town was built with single houses. It has since been forsaken by 
the intensive building coverage of the intermediate blocks. 

Trade and shipping thrived in the North and settlers flocked to the Colonies. Land- 
owners opened subdivisions and platted lots for sale and lease. Rights to pasture and 
timber on adjacent land were sometimes granted to purchasers of lots in the new towns. 
Such a development was Lansingburgh on the Hudson, surveyed by Joseph Blanchard 
for the large landowner, Abraham Lansing. This, like many others, was a speculative 




NEW AMSTERDAM 

The Dutch settlement of New Amsterdam was built on the 
tip of what is now known as Manhattan, New York City. 
The pattern of its streets in 1660 still exists Broadway 
(called Breedeweg by the Dutch), Broad Street, and Wall 
Street. The almost medieval irregular street plan and the 
canal are reminiscent of the Dutch towns in Europe. 



Market Square 

The Capitol 

Governor's Palace 

College of William and Mary 

Bruton Parish Church 

Duke of Gloucester Street 




WILLIAMSBURG 

Settled in 1633, the town of Williamsburg was founded in 
1699 as the capital of the Virginia Colony. Tt was laid out 
by the surveyor Theodorick Bland. The main street. Duke 
of Gloucester Street, was 99 feet wide and extended 
from the College of William and Mary to the Capitol. The 
land was subdivided in lots of about one-half acre in size. 
The town had a population of between 3,000 and 4,000 
people. The quiet formality of the town was English. The 
> spaces are not "grand"; they have a human scale. 



PHILADELPHIA 

William Penn commissioned the surveyor Thomas Holme 
to lay out the city in 1682. A rigid gridiron plan was 
adopted. Two major streets crossed in ihe center of the 
town and formed a public square. A square block park was 
placed in each of the four quadrants. The early dwellings 
were single-family houses. In the middle of the eighteenth 
century it became common practice to build dwellings on 
the side lot lines resulting in continuous rows of buildings 
which cut off access to the rear yards. Alleys were then cut 
through the center of the blocks. These alleys have since 
become streets. 



A City Square 
B Park 



SAVANNAH 

Laid out in 1733 by Oglethorpe, 
Savannah was a regular pattern 
of rectangular streets with park 
squares liberally spotted in al- 
ternate blocks. The plan is simi- 
lar to Philadelphia with a more 
generous allocation of open 
spaces. 




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THE NEO-CLASSIC CITY 55 

venture; the plan was a gridiron with a Common reserved in the center as in the New 
England villages. Profiting from the precedent in Philadelphia, alleys were platted 
in the original subdivision. 

The gridiron plan adopted for these towns was not only the simplest form to survey, 
but it was not an unsatisfactory form for the small village. A sense of unity was main- 
tained by the close relation of all dwellings to the town square and to the agricultural 
land on the outskirts. It was when this same pattern was extended endlessly that the 
monotony of the checkerboard lay heavily upon the town. 

A small settlement begun in 1649 on the banks of the Severn River in Maryland 
received the name of Annapolis in 1694. It was the first city in America to adopt diag- 
onal avenues and circles as the basic plan form but was followed by a more dramatic 
display, the classic plan for Washington, D.C., by Major Pierre Charles L'Enfant. 

From Radials to Gridiron. After deliberation of an appropriate location for the 
capital of this new nation it was decided to avoid existing urban centers such as New 
York and Philadelphia. Ambitious for the future of their newly founded country, 
the founding fathers selected a site along the banks of the Potomac River, removed 
from the commercial environment of established cities. L'Enfant, a young French 
designer, was commissioned to prepare a plan for the new capital city. With his back- 
ground in the baroque atmosphere of Paris and inspired by the spirit of the American 
cause, it was natural that he should conceive of this new city on a grand scale woven 
into a pattern of geometrical order. Such a plan appealed to the aristocratic tastes of 
men like Washington and Jefferson, and it was such a plan that was adopted by them 
in 1791. 

Following the example of their capital city, a number of cities wrapped themselves 
in the radial plan, a system of diagonal streets overlaid upon a gridiron pattern. Joseph 
Ellicott, brother of Andrew Ellicott who surveyed Washington, D.C., planned the city 
of Buffalo in 1804. He adopted a form of diagonal streets crossing a gridiron pattern 
at the central square near the Lake Erie waterfront. After the fire of 1805, Judge 
Woodward and Governor Hull in 1807 prepared a plan for Detroit. It was a grand 
complex elaborated with concentric hexagonal streets and containing most, if not all, 
the myriad forms used in Washington, D.C. To implement the plan, owners of property 
destroyed in the fire were ceded larger sites conforming to the new layout. New plans 
in 1831 and 1853 drew away from the original idea and, with the exception of a few 
spots like Grand Circus Square, there is little apparent form in the city today. 

Among the other cities with diagonal streets were Indianapolis and Madison. Both 
these cities were based upon the gridiron, but diagonals ranged from the center to the 
four corners of the plan. The center in Indianapolis was an open circle; in Madison 
the focal point was the Wisconsin State Capitol building. 

In the midst of this wave of radial planning a significant development occurred in 
New York City. In 1800 the city surveyor and architect, Joseph Mangin, proposed a 
plan for extension of the city to the north. His plan provided for major north-south 
streets with squares and plazas somewhat reminiscent of Washington, D.C. It also 




TROY 



LANSINGBURGH 




Speculative subdivisions were undertaken in the northern colonies in response 
to the influx of settlers. One of these was Lansingburgh on the Hudson laid 

out by Joseph Blanchard, a surveyor, for Abraham Lansing, a landowner. Purchasers of town lots were allotted 
rights to adjoining pasture and timber land. The plan follows the gridiron of Philadelphia with a Common 
which was typical of New England towns. Alleys were planned in the original development. 

Troy was founded in 1786. It was also a speculative venture and employed the rectangular plan of streets 
and alleys. 




ANNAPOLIS 

Founded in 1694, this little city was the first in this country to adopt 
the diagonal street plan inspired by the monumental effects in 
France. 



WASHINGTON, D. C. 

The plan by Pierre L'Enfant, ap- 
proved by Washington and Jef- 
ferson, began a series of city 
planning projects in which diag- 
onal and radial streets were 
superimposed upon the typical 
gridiron layout. The city was 
designed as a huge monumental 
setting for the Federal govern- 
ment of a new nation. 




L'ENFANT'S PLAN OF WASHINGTON, D. C 




i i c^i en czi C7, 




ants 
and 

ctarrz 



BUFFALO 

In 1804 Joseph Ellicott, a surveyor, laid out the city 
of Buffalo on the shores of Lake Erie. He copied the 
diagonal streets of Washington, D. C., with the 
plazas and circles of that city. 



DETROIT 

Judges' and Governors Plan for Detroit, 1807. 



NEW YORK CITY 

After turning down a proposal of the 
city surveyor and architect, Joseph 
Mangin, in 1800, a commission was ap- 
pointed to arrive at a plan in 1811. 
Their plan was a rigid gridiron street 
pattern laid upon the irregular topog- 
raphy of the city. Open space was not. 
generously allocated. A military parade* 
ground of 69 acres, 55 acres for a pub- 
lic market, and 5 small parks were the only open areas provided in the plan. Despite the "uncommonly great" 
price of land, explained as the reason for the economy of open space, the layout of streets can hardly be con- 
strued as economical; they occupy some 30 per cent of the land area. This harsh and uncompromising plan is- 
reflected in the city of today in which open space has all but completely vanished. It was not until the middle 
of the nineteenth century that the great Central Park was definitely established in the plan. 





Fairohild Aerial Surveys 



58 THE CITY OF THE PAST 

suggested a treatment for the waterfront about Manhattan. But Mangin's plan was not 
adopted. 

Instead, an official commission prepared a plan in 1811. This commission was com- 
posed of three members, two of whom were lawyers and landowners and the third a 
surveyor. They proposed a rigid gridiron street system to be laid over the entire island 
irrespective of the topography and extensive waterfront. Only one angular street was 
retained Broadway. The position of the commission was quite clear: "Straight-sided 
and right-angled houses/' they reported, "are the most cheap to build and the most 
convenient to live in." 2 

The matter of economy obviously guided the commission in its deliberations and 
dictated its conclusions. They found that "the price of land is so uncommonly great,'* 
and their proposal for retention of open space was indeed frugal. A reservation of 
69 acres for a military parade ground, 55 acres for a public market, and five small 
parks was the limit of open area the commission deemed feasible. 

Assuming that the major traffic would continue to move back and forth between the 
Hudson and East Rivers, the east-west streets, 60 feet in width, were spaced but 260 feet 
apart. This extravagance was offset, however, by economy of streets in the opposite 
direction; north-south streets, 100 feet wide, were spaced at distances ranging from 
600 to 900 feet. 

The commission's appraisal of traffic flow was hardly accurate as the reverse direc- 
tion it has since taken readily attests. Nor did it reflect particular optimism for the 
future of this great city. But it is the economy of the -commission that poses the most 
pertinent issue because it bears strong resemblance to that practiced in later and less 
happy days of urban planning. 

It will be recalled that Peter Minuit purchased the entire island of Manhattan from 
the Indians in 1626. At that time he paid the astounding sum of $24. When the com- 
mission laid out its plan in 1811, most of the land was still devoted to agriculture. 
The commission, however, considered that the price of land was then "uncommonly 
great." Guided by the economy of a surveyor's rod and chain, the island was mapped 
in a huge checkerboard. The ultimate cost of fitting the topography, "broken by hills 
and diversified by watercourses," to this pattern of land subdivision was overlooked, 
to be sure, and the reservation of 30 per cent of the land for streets was possibly 
explained by the extensive frontage it provided for the sale of lots. But can the omission 
of ample open space be construed as economy? 

The commission surely expected the city to continue the growth it was then enjoying: 
they obviously did for they so mapped it for subdivision and sale. Even though the 
land had been developed with single-family houses on individual lots, the open space 
in the 1811 plan would have been inadequate. Forty-five years later (1856), 840 acres 
were purchased for Central Park, and it cost the taxpayers of the city $5,500,000. 

This is the variety of economy that distorts the planning of our cities today. It is 
this experience in the practice of economy from which we are obliged to learn and 

2 Early Town Planning in New York State, Turpin Bannister, American Society of Architectural Historians. 



THE NEO-CLASSIC CITY 59 

profit. Is it economical to avoid the reservation of open space in the name of practical 
planning only to find the land value has become so dear we cannot afford the space 
when the need is urgent? The value of learning from yesterday is to prepare today 
for a better tomorrow. 

There were those who protested the formlessness of the commissioners* plan. Many 
agreed with Henry R. Aldrich when he claimed its inspiration was "the great facility 
which it provides for the gambling in land values and ready purchase and sale of 
building blocks" which had "wrought incalculable mischief." It was an omen of the 
fate to befall the American city in subsequent years. 



PART II 

THE 
INDUSTRIAL CITY 



Sir, if you wish to have a just notion 
of the magnitude of this city, you 
must not be satisfied with seeing its 
great streets and squares, but must 
survey the innumerable little lanes 
and courts. 

Samuel Johnson 




CHAPTER 5 



THE INDUSTRIAL 
REVOLUTION 



Handcraft to Machines. With the nineteenth century came the dawn of the Machine 
Age. Until that time all goods had been processed and assembled by hand. Shops were 
modest and generally located in the home of the proprietor. The number of employees 
was small, and there was maintained a close relationship between worker and em- 
ployer. 

There had always been those who worked with inventions. The Renaissance had 
been such a period; gunpowder, the printing press, and the processing of various ma- 
terials were important developments of that time. Ways were devised to improve the 
simple hand machine, but in 1765 Watt invented the steam engine and, with it, mechan- 
ical power became independent of hand operation. Enterprising proprietors applied 
this power to the work in their shops, and production of goods increased. With produc- 
tion increased, trade expanded, the shop moved from the home into separate quarters 
the factory and the distinction between employee and employer widened. 

In 1776 Adam Smith set forth his theories of capitalism. With the advent of ma- 
chines driven with mechanical power a new era was born. Mercantilism moved into 
the capitalism of the industrial system. The number of employees in proportion to the 
owners increased rapidly, and trade unions among workers, in contrast to the medieval 
guilds of proprietors, were formed. 

Invention of the machine touched off feverish activity; belt-line production absorbed 
the attention of industrial management, and repetition of operations replaced the 
variety of handcraft. Each machine had its job, and each man his machine. With each 
new device production per worker jumped; mass production made it possible for more 
people to have more things, or their counterparts, than had ever been available to them 
before. The size of factories grew and the number of workers employed by each fac- 
tory owner also increased. The factory was like a magnet, drawing about it an ever- 
increasing belt of workers' dwellings, schools, and shops. 

Transportation. The industrial system was dependent upon the transportation of 
raw materials to the factory and finished products to the consumers. Before the inven- 

63 



64 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

tion of the steam engine, goods were hauled in wagons and towed on river barges. 
Beginning in 1761 the inland waterways were linked by a system of canals in the 
United States, and in 1809 Fulton built his steamboat, the Clermont. In 1825 the first 
steam railroad was operated for public transportation in England, and a line was laid 
in the United States in 1829. Industrial production increased while domestic and 
foreign commerce expanded. Between 1850 and 1880, export trade from the United 
States increased from $17,000,000 to $100,000,000. 

In the crowded city, the horse-drawn carriage trundled the people leisurely about 
the streets. The voiture-omnibus for passenger transportation was introduced to Paris 
in 1819 and was adopted, as the "horse-car", in New York City in 1831. In 1832 
some rail lines were used by the horse-car, but the rail-less vehicle continued in use for 
a long time. 

Traffic congestion paralleled the increase in population density, and in 1867 an 
elevated cable car was built in New York City. A steam train replaced the cable in 
1871, but congestion was hardly diminished. Extending their rails beyond the city, 
the steam railroads offered some relief. Suburbs sprung up along them and invited 
those commuters who could afford the time and luxury of escape from the city centers. 

The electric street railway replaced the horse-car about 1885, and thenceforth be- 
came the principal urban transport. By 1917 there were 80,000 cars and 45,000 miles 
of track in American cities. As a result, the population scattered somewhat about the 
periphery, but congestion persisted. In 1895 an electric elevated line was installed in 
Chicago and, shortly thereafter, in New York and Philadelphia. 

Still failing to untie the knotty problem of traffic and transportation, the electric 
railway went underground. In 1897 a short line was built in Boston, and the first major 
subway was started in New York City in 1904. As we are sadly aware today, these 
developments aided and abetted congestion. The cities spread, population grew, and 
transportation only intensified concentration in the urban centers. 

When Daimler invented the internal combustion engine in 1885, transportation 
was beginning another step into the tangle of urban traffic. There were four auto- 
mobiles registered in the United States in 1895; in 1900 there were 8,000; in I960, 
62,000,000. The automobile split the city open at the seams, and to this day we are 
frantically trying to hold it together with patches on a worn-out fabric. 

It is recorded that Leonardo da Vinci tinkered with a toy flying machine, but in the 
nineteenth century men themselves took to the air and by 1903 they were flying in 
heavier-than-air machines. In 1927 Lindbergh spanned the Atlantic Ocean, and in 
1938 Howard Hughes flew around the world in 3 days, 19 hours, 8 minutes, and 1 
seconds. Today commercial planes are traveling to every part of the earth, carrying 
120 passengers at 600 miles per hour, and soaring into the stratosphere. How long can 
the city remain congested? 

Communications. Civilization has moved at the rate man has communicated his 
ideas. In ancient times men sent their messages by "runner". The printing press and 
postal service were initiated in the fifteenth century, and the thoughts of men could be 



THE INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION 65 

recorded for all to see and read. Their transmission, however, depended upon the 
carrier on foot or horseback. 

The industrial revolution sprung wide the door of man's inventive genius. The will to 
communicate with each other hung by a strand of copper wire. By 1850 messages were 
being ticked off on a telegraph key. Then, on March 10, 1876, Professor Alexander 
Graham Bell sat in his laboratory and spoke into a gadget. His assistant, listening at 
the other end of a wire, heard the words, "Mr. Watson, come here, I want you." 
Men could talk to each other on the telephone, and the effect of space and time was 
drastically altered. 

By the end of the first quarter of the twentieth century the miracle of radio not only 
further changed the effect of time and space, it exploded them in the face of civiliza- 
tion, and adjustment is still far from complete. 

Public Health and Safety. In ancient times the tragedy of epidemics aroused 
rulers to improve the physical environment. Primitive though they were, there were 
efforts to provide drainage and distribute water in the cities of Crete and the Indus 
Valley. It was not until the cholera plague of the Middle Ages had violently reduced 
the urban population in Europe that sanitary sewer connections and water distribution 
were provided as a public service. 

Measures for the public health and safety were extended during the nineteenth cen- 
tury. The first system of water supply by gravity flow was installed in Boston in 1652. 
By 1820 pumping systems were in general use, and methods for the disposal and 
treatment of sewage were improved. The heavy coverage of buildings on the land 
reduced the natural drainage of the city, but extensive street paving permitted effective 
cleaning and storm sewers augmented the sanitary equipment. Urban hygiene in the 
factory town did not lag for lack of facilities. It was simply outstripped and nullified 
by the congestion of people and the intensity of land use. 

Public thoroughfares in towns of the Middle Ages were dark and foreboding lanes. 
An occasional oil lamp hanging from a corner building was the only light to guide the 
stranger through the night. Artificial gas lighting appeared in London in 1812 and by 
1840 was in common use for lighting city streets. The first central generating plant for 
distribution of electricity was placed in operation in 1882. Thenceforth electricity 
replaced gas for street lighting. 

Electricity illuminated the highway and residential street. It made the "great white 
way" that brightens the city of today, but it also brought the gaudy display of signs 
and advertising that flash at night and droop hideously by day. With degenerate taste 
they sell the wares of -commerce and industry but reduce the city aspect to that of a 
cheap bazaar. 

Services for the health, safety, and convenience of the urban population advanced 
farther in a period of less than 100 years than in all past history. This tremendous 
progress and the actual living and working conditions of the industrial city present a 
bewildering contrast. Glorification of the industrial system and the fruits of its new-born 
activity blinded people to the ruin and havoc spreading across the urban community. 



66 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

The Factory Town. The steam locomotive extended its rails between the raw 
products, the factory, and the cities of consumers all over the land. The railroad with 
its sprawling yards penetrated the town with a network of tracks. Every amenity of 
urban life was sacrificed to the requirements of industrial production. The factory with 
its tentacles of railroads and shipping was the heart and nerve center of the city. Port 
cities on the ocean, lakes, and rivers prospered, drawing to them ships laden with coal 
and ore and sending from them shiploads of manufactured goods. Railroads and ships 
joined at the factories, and the waterfront became the industrial core of the city. 

The impact of the industrial revolution was first felt in England. The new industrial 
economy brought exploitation of the poor and, with poverty, came the slums. New 
slums, mechanical slums, row upon row of crowded workers' houses in the shadow of 
the factory, all were added to the traditional slums of the seventeenth century in 
Europe. The degraded environment of the factory town hung like a cloud over urban 
life for the next century and a half. Engrossed in the technical processes of industrial 
production, the homes of the people were neglected. Writing in 1865, Dr. Clifford 
Allbutt described the slums he saw: 

This is no description of a plague-stricken town in the fifteenth century; it is a faint effort to 
describe the squalor, the deadliness, and the decay of a mass of huts which lies in the town of 
Leeds, between York Street on the one side and Marsh Lane on the other; a place of "darkness 
and cruel habitations," which is within a stone's throw of our parish church, and where the fever 
is bred. These dwellings seem for the most part to belong to landlords who take no interest what- 
ever in their well-being. One block perhaps has fallen years ago by inheritance to a gentleman 
in Lancashire, Devonshire, or anywhere; another to an old lady; a third, perhaps, to an obscure 
money-lender. Meanwhile, the rotten doors are falling from their hinges, the plaster drops from 
the walls, the window frames are stuffed with greasy paper or old rags, damp and dung together 
fester in the doorways, and a cloud of bitterness hangs over all. To one set of houses, appropriately 
named Golden Square, there is no admission save by alleys or tunnels, which are only fit to lead 
to dungeons; so that for perhaps half a century or more the winds of heaven have never blown 
within its courts. 

In the new land across the sea there was a vast source of natural resources and an 
energetic people inspired by a new-won freedom. The industrial revolution swept across 
America unimpeded by traditions. Then one could hear the echo of events in Europe. 
As the economy shifted from agrarian to industrial, the people and the resources were 
soon to experience the throes of exploitation and the struggle for a decent living environ- 
ment. 

The air of American towns became polluted with smoke and grime from belching 
chimneys of the new age. Railroads ate into the core of cities, waterfronts were ruined, 
soot covered the village, and sewage lined the beaches. Buffalo, Chicago, Detroit, St. 
Louis, all devoted their splendid sites on lakes and river waterfronts to the industrial 
plants, the railroads, and the tankers of the new factory system. The land was platted 
and advertised as "desirable sites for industry." 

Immigration from foreign lands invited the building of tenements. Into them the 
newcomers crowded, grateful for some place to live in this country of promise. Indus- 



THE INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION 67 

trial growth in the large centers induced the people to remain in cities rather than 
migrate to the more healthful environment of rural communities, and the inevitable 
result was the creation of slums. 

There was an exception to the concentration in congested cities. A large supply of 
labor was needed to obtain the raw products for manufacture, and "company towns" 
sprung up at mining and lumber camps in various parts of the country. They occupy 
an infamous place in the annals of American town development. Living in deplorable 
shacks and shanties, the workers' families were subject to the will of a single employer 
for their livelihood. Shelter, food, and clothing were supplied through and at terms 
prescribed by the mining company. The depths to which these communities sunk, and 
in which many still remain, is a shameful blot on the American scene. 

Building tenements for rent was a profitable enterprise in the nineteenth century. 
Excessive building coverage on the land and crowding of dwellings within the buildings 
brought about population congestion with unbelievable acceleration. The population 
density in London was 265 persons per acre in 1870. It was 23 per cent higher than 
this in New York City, 326 persons per acre, which then had only one-third the total 
population of London. 1 

Standards of land use were lax. The first law to regulate tenement building came to 
New York in 1867, but only faint improvements were forced upon speculators. Plan- 
ning persisted at a deplorably low level; the "railroad" plan was typical of the early 
tenements and it had no more evil rival in the world. The usual lot width was 25 feet, 
with a depth of 100 feet. Built to the side property lines of these narrow lots, the 
"railroad" plan covered as much as 90 per cent of the area. The small space remaining 
at the rear was used for privies, no sanitation being provided within the building. With 
four apartments on each floor, and five or six stories high, only one room in each 
dwelling enjoyed light and air; all other rooms had no exterior exposure. 

The unbearable living conditions imposed on the poor did not go unnoticed. A com- 
petition was sponsored in 1879 by the "Plumber and Sanitary Engineer" for a "model"" 
tenement. The results were touched with irony. The winning plan, by James E. Ware, 
Architect, was the prototype of the later accursed "dumbbell" plan which covered 
85 per cent of the lot and resorted to a narrow interior light shaft along the property 
lines. Despite subsequent legislation "outlawing" these buildings, innumerable still 
remain to afflict the City of New York. 

The Utopians. The industrial city was shrouded in gloom. Class distinctions of 
the eighteenth century were present, but the new economy forged links between them. 
The fate of the privileged classes was inextricably woven with the welfare of the masses. 
The upper classes recognized this, and philanthropy assumed new proportions. Efforts 
to relieve the burdens of the working classes pierced the haze all through the nineteenth 
century. 

As early as 1797 the Society for Bettering the Conditions of the Poor was formed' 
in England. While there were nostalgic recollections of the formal city, the struggle 

i American Cyclopedia, 1875, Vol. XII, p. 382, 




The Seventeenth Century City 
The Picturesque Slum 



The Nineteenth 

Century City 

The Mechanical 

Slum 



Among the deplorable slums of the nineteenth-century 
factory town in England, the two-story row-house pre- 
dominated. Stretching in long rows with small backyards 
and narrow streets, the living environment was dreary 
and monotonous. Crowding on the continent, however, 
-was even more severe as indicated in the sketch of a 
tenement block in Vienna. Built to a height of four and 
five floors, it was typical to place a double row of dwell- 
ings within the block, the interior row facing on a narrow 
interior court on both sides. While it has been customary 
to assume that European slums were more crowded than 
'housing in this new world, the tenement block in New 
York City does not confirm such a notion. The sketch 
shows a combination of the "railroad" and the "dumbbell" 
tenements, many of which still remain despite the fact 
that they were outlawed in 1901. 








THE INDUSTRIAL 
REVOLUTION AND 

THE NINETEENTH 
CENTURY CITY 



The Twentieth 
Century City 



4 mm ft* 



I * r 

London 





Vienna 



New York 



i mi 

# X w P 
r -T ft J 






STOKE-ON-TRENT, England 



British Information Service 




Dutch 
Flat 



TENEMENTS OF THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

Picturesque slums gave way to mechanical slums in the nineteenth century. Rows 
of dwellings were built in the shadows of the factories. A typical workers house 
in England was two stories high; living, cooking and dining took place on the 
first floor, sleeping rooms were on the second. The wash room and privy were 
attached in the rear. In Holland crowded flats in 2 and 3 story buildings were typical. 
Tenements took different forms in various countries, but they all had one 
characteristic in common excessive land coverage. In New York the "railroad" 
plan became as bad as any and was in general use about the middle of the nine- 
tenth century. It was outmoded by the "dumbbell" plan developed from the Com- 
petition of 1879. The typical lot in New York City was 25 feet wide and 100 feet 
deep. The "railroad" plan spanned the full width from lot line to lot line; the 
depth varied but generally covered 90 per cent of the lot area. There were four 
apartments on each floor and the buildings were six and seven stories high. 

Privies were in the rear yard. Rooms were in tandem, and, since there was no light along the side property 
line, only one room in each apartment had outside exposure. The "dumbbell" plan, or "double-decker" 
offered little improvement except for the concession of a narrow light well along the side property lines. This 
feature allowed some semblance of light and air into the rooms, but it is difficult to believe much could 
filter down to the dwellings buried on the lower floors, and what air found its way into these wells must have 
been foul. Sanitation was improved to the extent of providing two common water closets on each floor. The 
"dumbbell" plan was outlawed by the Tenement House Act of 1901. This "New Law" was patterned after the 
competition requirements of the C.O.S. in 1899. Illustrated is the winning design by R. Thomas Short, Architect. 
The land coverage was reduced to 70 per cent of the lot area, and the tendency to use wider lots was generated; 
lots of 50 feet in width began to replace the 25-foot widths. Sanitary conveniences were provided in each 
dwelling. Light and air were provided in all rooms by interior courts instead of light wells, and the dwelling 
room arrangement was unproved. 



English 
Row- 
House 



YARD 



1X1 




"Railroad" 

Plan 
circa 1850 



Original 

"Dumbbell" 

1879 



"Dumbbell" 

Plan 
circa 1887 



50 FEET 




Prizewinning Plan 
1899 




In 1816 Robert Owen, an English industrialist moved by the problem of the ill-housed industrial workers and 
increasing unemployment, proposed a plan for a community which he believed could become self-supporting 
and reduce the heavy cost of public relief. Owen further proposed that similar communities could be estab- 
lished at appropriate intervals in the countryside. Communal buildings for each community were situated in 
the center of a broad Common. About this Common were rows of dwellings, and surrounding the dwellings 
were large gardens. The main road encircled the entire compound and the factories and workshops were 
located along the outside boundary of the community. Designed for about 1200 people, each community was 
surrounded by an agricultural area of between 1000 and 1500 acres to supplement industrial employment. 



PLAN OF A MODEL TOWN FOR AN ASSOCIATED TEMPERANCE COMMUNITY OF ABOUT 10,000 
INHABITANTS 

Proposed in 1849 by J. S. Buckingham, architect, this Utopian plan specified a multitude of features within the 
community and recommended that industries using "steam engines" be situated at least one-half mile from 
the town. It was also suggested that sites would be reserved for "suburban villas" in the agricultural land sur- 
rounding the town. 



A 1000 houses 20 feet wide 

B Arcade for workshops 

C 560 houses 28 feet wide 

D Retail shops 

E 296 houses 38 feet wide 

F Winter promenade arcade 



S 120 houses 54 feet wide 

H Schools, baths, dining halls 

J Public buildings, churches 

K 24 mansions 80 feet wide 

L Central square 




THE INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION 71 

to improve the living environment of the working people moved steadily on. The 
depressing condition of housing for the poor impressed some industrial leaders who 
sensed the problems it presented to the future of the industrial economy. The first half 
of the century was marked by protests against the "sordidness, filth, and squalor, 
embroidered with patches of pompous and vulgar hideousness," and a number of 
Utopian communities were proposed. One such scheme was that of Robert Owen. 

Owen was the proprietor of a cotton mill at New Lanark. He was familiar with the 
problems of industrial management, having successfully introduced reforms in the 
working conditions, hours, and wages for employees in his plant. However, Owen saw 
beyond these reforms and, in 1816, he set forth an unusual plan for a co-operative com- 
munity combining industry and agriculture. 

Dwellings were grouped about a large open space in which he located the communal 
buildings. Surrounding the dwellings were large gardens, and this entire area was 
encircled by a main roadway. On one side of the compound were the factories and 
workshops. Beyond, on all sides, was the agricultural belt ranging from 1,000 to 1,500 
acres. The village was designed for about 1,200 people. Owen intended his plan for the 
unemployed, assuming that the community would become self-supporting and thereby 
reduce the heavy cost of public relief. 

Another of the Utopians was J. S. Buckingham who, in 1849, wrote a treatise entitled 
National Evils and Practical Remedies. In this work he displayed his plan for a 
"model" town for an "Associated Temperance Community of About 10,000 Inhab- 
itants." Buckingham adhered to the current distinction of class, placing the finer houses 
near the center of his plan, receding in class to the humble dwellings and workshops 
about the periphery. 

The Utopian proposals were not executed, but they focused attention upon the grow- 
ing evils of the urban environment. In 1844 the Rochdale Pioneers formed the first 
consumers' co-operative organization. In the same year the first Royal Commission on 
Health and Housing was appointed in England and the first Public Health Act was 
passed in 1848. 

By the middle of the century severe epidemics were spreading over England and 
continental countries. The ruling classes could insulate themselves from many un- 
desirable features of urban living, but they were not immune to disease. Spurred by 
alarm, the royalty engaged in a few paternal developments. Prince Albert in England, 
Louis Napoleon III in France, and the Berlin Building Society under Prince Wilhelm 
in Germany built some "model" dwellings. 

These projects represented two extremes. In the congested areas six- and seven-story 
tenements were repeated with little improvement in plan and design than previous build- 
ings ; they could only decay into more slums with the passing of time. The other extrem- 
ity was the suburb of single houses built on the outskirts of the cities. The intention of 
these dwellings was encouragement of home-ownership. Being too expensive for the 
vast number of low-paid workers, they reverted to the usual middle-class suburbs. The 
prospect of selling these dwellings at handsome profits further removed them from the 



72 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

income group most in need of improved housing. Consequently, there were no solu- 
tions in these spurts of activity. 

The Model Towns. Recognizing the desirability of good housing for their workers 
and stimulated by the unexecuted proposals of the Utopians, some "model" communi- 
ties were undertaken by industrial owners. One of the earliest of these "towns" was 
Bessbrook, built in 1846 for workers in the linen mills near Newry, Ireland. In 1852 
Sir Titus Salt built Saltaire for some 3,000 workers in his textile mill near Bradford, 
England. Extensive community facilities were introduced in this development. In 1865 
the Krupp family began the first of several "model" villages for workers in their 
munitions and iron factories in Essen, Germany. 

George Cadbury, a chocolate manufacturer, moved his plant from Birmingham to 
a rural site and began the town of Bourneville in 1879. While this community was 
initiated as a "company" town it was converted to an autonomous village about 1900 
and has some 2,000 dwellings today. The land has remained in the single ownership 
of the village. In France, another chocolate manufacturer, M. Menier, built a worker^" 
colony at Noisel-sur-Seine near Paris in 1874. Similar communities were built in 
France by the Anzin Mining Company for mine workers at Valenciennes, and M. 
Schneider et Cie., for their Creusot Steel Mills near Fontainebleau. Others were de- 
veloped at the Crespi Cotton Mills near Capriate, Italy, and Agneta Park near Delft, 
Holland, in 1883 for the Van Marken Yeast and Spirit Works. 

In 1886, Lever Brothers, famous makers of soap, built Port Sunlight near Liverpool. 
The site for this project was 550 acres, and large blocks were employed with interior 
gardens and play areas, a forerunner of later planning. Another project that fore- 
shadowed subsequent developments was Creswell, built by Percy Houfton in 1895 for 
his Bolsover Colliery. A hexagonal pattern was used, the houses facing inward on the 
gardens. Sir Joseph Roundtree, cocoa manufacturer, built Earswick near York in 1905. 
This, like Bourneville, was made a community trust. It was planned by Barry Parker 
and Raymond Unwin, architects prominent in the new direction of town planning. 

Some industrialists in America sought to improve the housing for their workers, 
probably the best known being Pullman, Illinois, built in 1881. It was built as a 
permanent town in conjunction with the plant for manufacture of Pullman sleeping 
cars. 

The "model" towns of the industrialists in the nineteenth century were so few in 
proportion to the real problem of housing in the factory centers that they contributed 
little to the solution of that problem. They were flavored with a paternalism similar to 
the "model" dwellings built by the royalty at an earlier date. They did demonstrate 
some planning arrangements from which later communities were to profit, but the 
rarity of the projects rather emphasized the disparity between the living standards 
which were possible in the industrial era and the low level to which housing for most 
of the urban population had degenerated. 

There can be no claim to city planning during this era. The fervor for industrial 
expansion had blotted out the original plans for cities in America, and only rem- 



THE INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION 73 

Hants can now be seen. Ambitious proposals like the Judges and Governors plan 
for Detroit remained as diagrams of what might have been. Even the distinction 
between major and minor arteries established in the early Detroit plan, for example, 
was abandoned in favor of a standard street width of 66 feet. 

The only plan that remained was Washington, D. C., and it was fraught with dif- 
ficulties. The Capitol building and President's Palace had been placed upon the 
sites selected for them, but further developments were hardly appropriate to the 
dignity and grandeur of L'Enfant's plan. In Lincoln's time the streets were still 
muddy roads; Pennsylvania Avenue, intended as a broad and monumental prom- 
enade, was lined with nondescript commercial buildings and shops. The Capitol 
.building faced east, overlooking the barren marshland which was destined to become 
the slums of the city. ] 

The gridiron plan of New York City was the beginning of a sterile urban char- 
acter. The movement "Westward ho!" gripped the pioneers and with them strode 
the land surveyors. By the time this great trek had moved across the United States 
the vast land had been mapped in a gargantuan gridiron of mile-square sections. 
The pattern of land division was thoroughly bound in a legal straight jacket of 
readily recorded deeds. Natural features, rivers, mountains, and valleys were 
ignored. Henceforth the grid became the basic pattern of farms, villages, towns, 
cities, and counties. Desirability of the land was measured by its prospects for 
quick and profitable turnover. Subdivision practices were conveniently designed to 
enhance these prospects, and the pattern of future development of cities was fairly 
sealed in this package of the gridiron plan. 

The Horizon of Improvement. As the nineteenth century wore on governments 
in Europe assumed more and more responsibility for the improvement of the city. 
The British Housing Law of 1890 empowered the state and local authorities to con- 
demn land and build dwellings for rent to the working class. In response to the 
growing strength of the trade union movement in Germany a law of 1889 granted 
privileges to co-operative housing developments, using funds derived from social 
insurance which had been inaugurated by Bismarck. At an earlier date, legislation 
was enacted in Holland to provide for the loan of public funds to "public utility 
societies" engaged in housing, and a similar program was begun in Stockholm, 
Sweden, in 1879. The "public utility society" is somewhat similar to the "limited 
dividend company" in the United States, but was subject to closer state supervision 
in Europe because of the greater degree of financial assistance it received from 
the government. 

These various measures set the stage for the more enlightened era to follow in 
the next century. There also began a program of social work on behalf of decent 
housing which was to extend into the twentieth century. Miss Octavia Hill launched 
her crusade for the underprivileged in London in the latter part of the century 
a practical program based upon the idea that good and continuous management 
could improve living even in existing tenements. 




BERN 



1300 




1600 



The early medieval town had space within and 
about it. With the increase in trade and the rise 
of mercantilism the city form remained the same, 
but open space was built up. The methods of 
water supply, drainage, and waste disposal re- 
mained the same, but more and more people were 
crowded into the city. It has continued to grow 
in population as have other cities, but, while it 
extended its boundaries, the process of congestion 
has increased in intensity of land use. Current 
undesirable congestion has been bearable only 
with the vast improvement in water distribution, 
public utilities of gas, electricity, sewage dis- 
posal, and mechanical inventions. 




ELJL 



lj 

PP 



i" 




Just as the medieval town became crowded with the increase 
in trade, the new towns gradually became congested with the 
development of commercialism. The plan of New Haven shows it 
as an open residential community until the industrial revolution. 
In the last hundred years, however, the street system has changed 
only slightly, but the land has been built-up until little open space 
remains. 



1641 



1812 



NEW HAVEN 



Today 




THE INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION 75 

Stirred by the gallant efforts of such crusaders as Jacob Riis, there developed 
a growing protest against the congested tenements in America. The hideous "rail- 
road" and "dumbbell" tenements on 25-foot lots had spread over New York City, but 
there were signs of mild and spotty reforms. As early as 1871 the Boston Co-operative 
Company began a modest program of rental houses for city workers, and other 
"model" dwellings were attempted. 

In 1894 the publication of some plans for tenements by the Architect Ernest Flagg 
aroused wide interest. These plans provided broader light courts than the standard 
practice; they reduced the length of interior corridors and improved the exposure 
of the rooms. A competition for better housing was held by the Improved Housing 
Council in 1896. It was won by Mr. Flagg with a plan requiring a lot 50 feet in 
width but accommodating the same number of apartments per floor as the "dumbbell" 
plan on the same area of land. The rooms in each apartment were larger, and their 
exposure and arrangement were enhanced. 

With this impetus to improve low-cost housing, the Tenement House Committee 
of the Charity Organization Society conducted a competition in 1899, The program 
specified certain basic planning standards to be followed by the competitors. Among the 
prescribed requirements were a maximum lot coverage of 70 per cent, large light courts, 
and a minimum volume of air per occupant within the dwelling. The winning design 
was submitted by the architect, R. Thomas Short. 

This competition spurred renewed efforts for reform and culminated in the passage 
of the Tenement House Act of 1901, commonly known as the "New Law" in New 
York City. The act was modeled after the standards of the competition, and fairly 
established the 50-foot lot in subdivision practice. 

Progress became more visible when the twentieth century opened. Several organi- 
zations were formed for the purpose of building better housing for the low-income 
worker. One of the most notable was the City and Suburban Homes Company of 
New York. Starting business in 1896 and assisted by Ernest Flagg, it has since built 
some 3,500 apartment units. The by-laws of the company are worthy of note; its 
purpose was: "To offer to capital a safe and permanent investment and at the same 
time to supply wage earners improved homes at current prices." 

In 1879 the Washington Sanitary Improvement Company was established in Wash- 
ington, D. C. It was followed in 1904 by the Washington Sanitary Housing Company 
and these organizations have built nearly 1,000 apartments for rental to families of 
low income in the capital city. 

Movement to the Cities. The factory system brought more and more people to 
the urban centers. While rural areas in England were decreasing in population from 
10,000,000 in 1821 to 9,500,000 in 1936, cities were gaining from 4,000,000 to 
37,000,000. In Germany the rural population dropped from 23,000,000 in 1821 
to 19,000,000 in 1936, and urban population increased from 2,000,00 to 48,000,000 
in the same period. The industrial metropolis and congestion became synonymous. 
Between 1800 and 1900 urban population in Europe grew between 300 and 400 



76 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

per cent. At the beginning of the nineteenth century, London had a population of 
1,000,000; at the beginning of the twentieth century it was 7,000,000. During 
the same period Paris grew from 700,000 to 3,000,000, and Berlin from 172,000 
to 4,000,000. 

The population of the United States was largely agrarian at the beginning of the 
nineteenth century. Only about 5 per cent of the people lived in towns, and they 
were small communities. In 1790 there were but two cities with a population as large 
as 25,000. The inauguration of regular steamship service between Europe and 
America in 1840 helped to feed the factory system with immigrants seeking the free- 
dom of this land. By the middle of the century 20 per cent of the people lived in 
cities. From that time forward the acceleration was rapid, and in 1940 there were 
3,464 urban communities with 56.5 per cent of the total population of the country. 
Four hundred and twelve cities had more than 25,000 population. Of these, twenty 
three ranged between 250,000 and 500,000; nine were between 500,000 and 1,000,000, 
whereas five exceeded 1,000,000. 

The Spiral of Land Values. The century saw the formation of land companies 
and the beginning of "real estate" as a business. Land prices boomed as city popula- 
tion jumped by leaps and bounds, and speculation was rife with expansion to the 
suburbs. Land values in Berlin doubled between 1865 and 1880. In one twenty-year 
period, land values in London increased one-third. With this increase in land values 
came increased congestion. Between 1836 and 1886, the density of population in 
Paris increased threefold. The density of people in London was 265 per acre in 1870, 
and, at the same time, there were residential areas in New York City with a density 
of 326 people per acre. 2 

During the latter part of the nineteenth century speculation in land flourished. Land 
valuations pyramided at a fantastic rate. Accommodation of the growing urban popula- 
tion in the expanding city became more and more difficult. Increasing the density in 
tenements only further inflated the value of land, which in turn bred higher values. 
The vicious cycle was in motion. 

In New York land values were $742,000,000 in 1870. In 1872 they were 
$797,000,000. By 1927 they had risen to $7,780,000,000, and in 1932 they were 
$10,150,000,000. A study by Homer Hoyt showed a similar sequence, although less 
regular, in Chicago. The valuation of land for the 211-square-mile area occupied by 
that city ran the following course:'* 

1833 .............. $ 168,000 1861 .............. 60,000,000 

1836 .............. 10,500,000 1897 .............. 1,000,000,000 

1842 .............. 1,400,000 1926 .............. 5,000,000,000 

1856 .............. 125,000,000 1932 .............. 2,000,000,000 



3 100 years of Land Values in Chicago, Homer Hoyt, University of Chicago Press, Chicago, 1933, Tahle 
LXXX, Appendix III. 



THE INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION 77 

The chaotic effect of this violent sequence of higher density followed by higher land 
cost can hardly be understated. The movement of the tide has been stemmed only with 
occasional economic depressions, but these intervals have been followed by immediate 
recuperation of inflated land values. It is apparent that little hope for any modification 
of this cycle can be expected as long as the legal framework for the urban environ- 
ment permits unlimited population densities. 




PARIS 



INCENNES 



The dark-shaded streets show 
the Haussmann Program 



Wall A 

Wall B 

Wall C 

Wall D 

Wall E 



Built by Philip Augustus, Twelfth century 
Built by Charles V, Fourteenth century 
Built by Louis XIII, Seventeenth century 
Built by Louis XV, Eighteenth century 
Built by Napoleon III, Nineteenth century 



F The Louvre 

G The Tuilleries 

H The Champs Elysees 

J The Champs de Mars 

K The Tie de la Cite 



L The Invalides 
M The Luxembourg 



Beginning as a fortified town on the small island in the Seine River, Paris was known as Lutetia by the Romans. 
At the time of the Norman invasion in the ninth century the town had expanded heyond the original lie de la 
Cite and was fortified on both sides of the Seine. The fortifications were extended by Philip Augustus in the 
twelfth century (Wall A). The left bank (south) was the principal location for churches and colleges, the 
commercial center lying on the right bank. The kings made their residence on this bank, and in the fourteenth 
century Charles V built Wall B to contain more adequately this growing part of the city. At the east end of the 
town was the tower known as the Bastille; at the west end, on the banks of the Seine, was the Louvre which 
became the royal palace. 

The Louvre was extended in the sixteenth century under Henry IJ, and the Tuilerics Gardens were created. 
The power of the monarch was growing, and the Renaissance was ushered in. Henry IV built the Place Royal, 
and in the seventeenth century Louis Xlll had the walls expanded to contain the Tuilcries Gardens (Wall C), 

During the reign of Louis XIV, the Sun King, Paris grew rapidly, and court life extended its influence. 
Vauban reduced the fortified walls, and the ramparts were transformed into promenades, the first of the Grands 
Boulevards. The Tuileries Gardens and the Louvre were enlarged, and the initial stage of the Champs filysces 
was built into the "suburbs" to the west. The Place des Victoires and Place Vendome were built. Monumental 
quais were created along the Seine. King Louis XIV, however, moved his court and residence lo Versailles 
where he built the great palace and gardens. 

The city expanded further under Louis XV who built the Place Louis XV (Place de la Concorde), Rue 
Royale, and Church of the Madeleine. Streets were widened and new avenues built for fine residences. The 
Champs de Mars was also established, and in the latter part of the eighteenth century the new Wall D was 
built to contain the growing city. 

Following the Revolution the industrial development of the city increased. The outskirts of the city were 
built up, and a new Wall E was built in 1840. Under Napoleon III, the huge program by Baron Haussmann was 
carried out. The principal portion of this is indicated in heavy shading. Many new avenues were cut through 
the city and boulevards created on the sites of old walls. 

As Paris developed, the city underwent remodeling under each of the monarchs but it will be observed 
that the greatest projects in each successive period were those along the fringe of the city. The great open 
spaces that distinguish the city today were developed in advance of the city expansion, and the walls extended 
to include them as the city spread about them. Even as late as Haussmann, boulevards were carved out of the 
city, but the most expansive spaces were those like the Champs filysees and the Place de Tfitoile, and boule- 
vards radiating from them were laid across open fields. The rapid growth of Paris has spread the city in all 
its suburbs and absorbed the open spaces including those created when the walls of 1840 were leveled in the 
latter part of the nineteenth century. 




CHAPTER 6 



THE CITY OF 
CONTRASTS 



Last of the Baroque. Repeated outbreaks of the people caught in the tangled 
industrial city were a source of annoyance to the ruling class in Europe. In the midst 
of the orgy of urban expansion, a development of monumental proportions was under- 
taken in Paris. Sensitive to the restlessness of the working classes, Napoleon III pro- 
posed to open broad avenues through the slums in which discontent festered. In 
devising his plan he was not unmindful of the advantage these open spaces would 
provide his soldiers in controlling mob violence. 

Georges-Eugene Haussmann, a bureaucrat in the city administration, was selected, 
in 1853, to take charge of the huge program. The result was an amazing demonstration 
of administration and organization. The entire boulevard system of Paris was planned 
and executed in a period of seventeen years and under the most strenuous circum- 
stances. Haussmann was resisted, on the one hand, by a city council reluctant to 
appropriate the necessary funds and, on the other, by bourgeois property owners 
affected by his broad strokes of planning. 

Haussmann was aware of the need to design for the traffic of a new industrial age. 
He laid out the new streets in long sweeps cutting through the maze of winding 
medieval lanes. With these avenues he connected old plazas and created new plazas. 
He laid out the radiating avenues across the open fields from the Place de Ffitoile, 
he laid out the Bois de Boulogne, he carved out the monumental Avenue de FOpera 
and many other grand boulevards. 

The program engineered by Haussmann was stupendous. It transformed Paris and 
gave it much of the color of that great city. But can it properly 'be called planning? 
A series of masterful projects were executed. Haussmann intended to improve the 
circulation of traffic, and the broad avenues that were opened through the congested 
districts were an improvement. He had the conception of scale appropriate for the 
new city: he saw it as a complex wanting unification. But the tradition of monuments 
was deeply rooted in the process of city building. It was not long since the revolution 

79 



80 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

against tyranny, and an emperor was again the ruler. The tree-lined avenues and 
vistas meant to impress rather than serve the people. 

The time was not ripe for solving the new urban problems. Mixed land uses were 
not changed, and the avenues became continuous shopping streets along the ground 
floor with dwellings on the upper floors. There was no separation between land uses 
as in the earlier London residential developments about Bloomsbury, which were 
by-passed by traffic arteries and shopping streets. The scheme of Haussmann was 
gargantuan in scale, but it was too late to become an effective monument to the ego 
of a monarch, and too early to solve the planning of the industrial city. It was the 
swan song of the Baroque city. 

MidrVictorian Mediocrity. There was a depressing consistency about the factory 
town of the nineteenth century. It bred mediocrity in every aspect of life; mediocrity 
was its characteristic. Vast areas of mean dwellings lay under a pall of smoke; an 
atmosphere of haze hung over the environment. Peaks of creative inspiration were 
few and far between. Monotonous order was a natural result of rigid organization of 
people and things. The mid- Victorian Period signifies bad taste and dull, routine life. 
Here and there a pseudo-gayety pierced the haze, but it was fluffy with gray frills 
touched more with half-concealed vulgarity than genuine pleasure. The urban environ- 
ment reflected the bawdy "can-can" rather than the graceful waltz. A film of grime 
and soot covered it, and the wide range from wealth to poverty meant little more, in 
a cultural sense, than the difference between more or little bric-a-brac in the cluttered 
surroundings. The cultural energy of the city was sapped by the gigantism of industrial 
development. The factory was like a monster that spewed forth its products and then 
reached out to clutch them in its expanding claws. 

Glorification of the machine was complete, and man had created a master. This 
was significant to him. He had proved his power. Here was a creature of man that 
could produce anything. It had no need for a brain; it was automatic. It had no 
limitations; it could even destroy man himself. And man was tremendously proud 
of his achievement. 

Proof of the mediocrity of the age were the few who recognized it. William Morris 
and John Ruskin cried out against it; Charles Dickens wove it into his classic stories; 
muckraking reporters like Lincoln Steffens exposed it; Octavia Hill and Jane Addams 
fought it with vigorous social work. They saw the dulling of man's creative spirit, the 
shift from quality to quantity as a measure of success. They perceived it in all its 
shabby elegance and grime the nineteenth century industrial city. 

Apparently, man can move in an atmosphere of mediocrity for just so long, and 
then an awareness of a cultural vacuum dawns. Unfortunately he may only peer, 
rather than search, for the absent quality, and he often fabricates a substitute, an 
artificial air of pomposity that serves rather well and takes much less trouble than 
the search for culture. To achieve culture it might be necessary for him to forego 
temporarily some material advantages in which he so firmly believes. So he ingen- 
iously contrives to have both. 



THE CITY OF CONTRASTS 81 

This happened in the transition twilight of the nineteenth century. 

The City Beautiful. World Fairs had proved a great way to place the products 
of industry before the people and it was proposed to hold one in Chicago in 1893. The 
Columbian Exposition, as it was called, was to demonstrate amply the great industrial 
empire and to give pedigree to this new empire. What more natural way to accomplish 
this than by clothing it in the robes of classic form? Had this not been the "cultural" 
drape for the great days of the past? Was this not an appropriate cloak for a new 
era when men could produce more than at any time in history? With this new power 
men could reproduce classic structures that would surpass the emperors. This was 
a natural conclusion in the nineteenth century and it was true. Mediocrity had taken 
its toll in taste as in exploitation. A reaction was inevitable, and it was violent. 

It was a natural paradox that out of the smoke, soot, and grime of the cities, this 
Fair would be called "White City." Cities were cramped, monotonous, and ugly; the 
Fair would be big, broad, and beautiful. The Fair would be everything the urban 
environment was not, and it was a huge success. It did all the things it purported to do 
and something more. It launched a movement of "classic revival" in this country 
which was to portray all the contrasts conceived in the nineteenth century and born 
in the twentieth. 

Daniel Burnham, the chief architect for the Columbian Exposition, uttered the magic 
wo-Lxta t : ^l marked the new era: "Make no little plans." The fair rolled up a tidal 
wave of "city planning" and it swept across the land. Every large city planned to 
become the "Cily Beautiful." Burnham was commissioned to prepare a plan for San 
Francisco after the earthquake and fire of 1906. The Commercial Club of Chicago 
engaged him for the plan of that city in 1909. He did one for Manila and Baguio in 
the Philippines, and he was an active member of a commission of architects who 
renewed the plan of Washington, D, C. 

Other cities followed suit. Plans were of colossal scale with monumental propor- 
tions. Axes shot off in all directions terminating with proposed buildings that put 
the visions of past kings to shame. Great plazas and broad avenues, generously punc- 
tuated with monuments, were almost a civic obsession. The "City Beautiful" was the 
Grand Plan reincarnate; the Ecole des Beaux Arts in Paris was the fountainhead for 
the designers of this period and the plans had to be big to be beautiful. 

Civic centers became a popular theme. Nearly every city had its Civic Center 
Plan open space landscaped in the traditional fashion, fountains distributed about 
plaza and garden, public buildings limited in number only by the size and ambition 
of the city, topped off with a frosted dome terminating a long and broad vista. 

All this activity was performed in something of a vacuum. An air of haughty 
detachment pervaded the planning, an isolation from the affairs of people and 
community activities. A monument or public building blithely placed in the middle 
of an important traffic artery suggests the characteristic paradox. It was as though the 
planners had determined that the people must adjust themselves to the mighty formal 
arrangement. It failed to occur to them that the entire development of a city was 



82 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

essentially a derivative of human needs. The Civic Center conception itself was one 
of removal from the life of the community rather than a functional entity within 
it. Removed from channels of enterprise, civic affairs had an air of divorcement. 
The grandiose buildings were imposing, not inviting. They held the spellbound cit- 
izen at arm's length. They did not fit the city, its life, its habits, or its manners ; theirs 
was an air of disdain rather than dignity. 

Then these great structures became so laden with excess "architectural" expense, 
it was almost too much to bear. The citizen could really not afford the sums of money 
they cost. There were some grand gestures made and executed, but the lavish plans 
were largely destined for respectable storage in the archives of a more modest city 
hall. Most of the work that reached the stage of execution was necessarily and hap- 
hazardly remodeled later to fit the requirements of traffic and circulation ignored in the 
original planning. 

The seeds of city planning had nevertheless been planted. Planning organizations 
sprung up in various parts of the country. A Town Planning Board was established 
Li Hartford, Connecticut, in 1907. In 1909 the first National Conference on City 
Planning was held. This was followed in 1911 with the founding of the National 
Housing Association. By 1913 there were official planning boards in 18 cities in the 
country, and in the same year Massachusetts led off with the first state legislation that 
made city planning a mandatory responsibility of local governments: all cities with 
a population of 10,000 or more were required to establish a Planning Board. 

The City of Commerce. Meanwhile the real city was shoving its sprouts through 
these pleasant but fortuitous efforts. The technical "know-how" of industrial produc- 
tion had been learned. The industrial system was no longer primarily a technical 
problem; it was now a commercial process. Financing and distribution were the new 
emphasis. Selling the rapidly produced merchandise and financing the expanding 
facilities to produce more were transforming the system into a financial empire. Fac- 
tory management turned its attention from production of goods to commercial organi- 
zation, banking, national and world-wide trade associations. The nature of commodities 
and their production methods gave way to ticker-tape and figures in a set of books. 
The businessman the tycoon of commerce became the main cog in the new era. 
Statistics, business cycles, bookkeeping, financing, and the stock market were the stock- 
in-trade of those who strove for success. Trade in commodities rather than the com- 
modities themselves was what counted now. The city began to bristle with buildings 
sheltering acres of floor space for business. The skyscraper was the dramatic manifes- 
tation of the commercial city. 

It was apparent that affairs must be operated on a practical basis. Cities must work, 
the ornamental must be discarded, and only the useful could be tolerated. Land cost 
money, buildings cost money, services cost money, and so did time. These required 
attention of practical men, not dreamers. It was well and good to have ideas about a 
"City Beautiful," but it was far more important that they pay dividends. 

To answer these demands there emerged the "city engineer," the practical man who 



THE CITY BEAUTIFUL: 
The central part of the 1909 
plan for Chicago by D. H. 
Burnham. 




THE INDUSTRIAL CITY: Gary, Indiana. 

The City Beautiful and the Industrial City grew up together in 
the nineteenth century. The problems of the growing metropolis 
were not solved and the crowded City of Commerce emerged to 
complicate further the urban pattern. 



SILHOUETTE, ANCIENT TO MODERN 



American Airlines 




PYRAMID OF GIZEH 



PARTHENON COLOGNE 
CATHEDRAL 



WOOL-WORTH RADIO EMPIRE 
BLDG CITY STATE 
BLDG 



84 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

could make surveys and calculations, determine the size of sewer, water, and drainage 
systems, lay out rail lines, streets, walks, curbs. City planning became an engineering 
process engaging practical men free from dreams. These qualifications appealed to 
civic and business leaders and instilled confidence in their judgment and businesslike 
manner. It was this individual that businessmen desired for the responsibility of plan- 
ning within budget limitations. They had received a huge dose of grand planning, 
proposals to embellish the city with architectural trappings costing more than the 
problems they were intended to solve. 

There was merit in this position; the "City Beautiful" was not frowned upon, it was 
simply too expensive. Awed by the monumental dreams, impressed by the vision, it 
was not with disrespect that the proposals were sidetracked. These great designs had 
simply lost all connection with the commercial city that was growing up in the twentieth 
century. It was a thing apart, detached, unrelated to the affairs of men. It solved no 
problems, and there was a subconscious recoiling from the classic mold into which it 
would cast the physical environment. 

The city was a business proposition, and it must pay dividends. Land took on a new 
value. There was a time when it was sold as "lots. 9 ' The value was later measured in 
terms of street frontage, a price per front foot. It was now being measured by the 
square foot. Every square foot of land had a value and none could be wasted. Building 
coverage was intense; layer upon layer of floor space was piled upon the land. 

Despite resistance to the monumental planning of the "City Beautiful," the classic 
treatment had made a deep impression. It gave an appearance of pedigree which was 
itself an asset to the business world. The value attached to every square foot of land for 
commercial use opposed the fine balance between the buildings and open space of classic 
planning. But the appearance could be captured, however, so remnants of the classic 
revival were hung upon the fagades of buildings and each thus became a fit associate 
for its neighbor along the street. It was a sham, to be sure, but the street assumed a 
stylish front and the value of land behind the fagades was protected. 

As in architecture and the arts, city planning acquired a Queen Anne front and a 
Mary Ann back. The street became a canyon embellished with a galaxy of styles cutting- 
through mountains of building bulk. The appearance of dignity was achieved without 
the loss of a square foot of land. 

Washington, D.C., is not a typical American city, but it dramatically displays the 
contradictions of the twentieth century. The job of government in a great democracy 
attracted an expanding population to the capital city. With the people came commer- 
cial enterprise, and the forces of conflict were set; the commercial city and the classic- 
city were diametrically opposed. 

The pseudo-classic planning for activities of the Federal government was vigorously 
maintained. In 1901 the MacMillan Commission was appointed to restore the original 
character of the I/Enfant plan. Some results were obtained. The railroad which had 
been cut across the Mall was removed, and the present site for the Union Station was 
established. There was agreement on a uniform limit for the height of future buildings. 




Fairchild Aerial Surveys 



NEW YORK CITY 

New York City illustrates the exaggerated chaos of the City of Commerce in the industrial age. 

WASHINGTON, D.C. 

A city of monumental compromise between the classic and the commercial city. The Capitol is near the 
center of the photograph. It is encircled (left and counterclockwise) by the House Office Building, Library of 
Congress, Supreme Court, and Senate Office Building. To the right is Union Station. The Mall extends from 
the Capitol to the Washington Monument, from which the Reflecting Pool leads to the Lincoln Memorial. 



Fairchild Aerial Surveys 




86 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

To preserve these accomplishments the National Commission of Fine Arts was ap- 
pointed in 1910 by President Theodore Roosevelt. It was followed in 1926 by creation 
of the National Capital Park and Planning Commission. 

These commissions performed yeomen services to the preservation of the classic city, 
but that city had changed. A new age had arrived, immature but nonetheless a moving 
force. Commercialism with its entourage of shops, hotels, office and loft buildings, 
entertainment and residential development, traffic and transportation descended upon 
the city. Above all, the evaluation of land and the intensity of development that had 
overtaken other cities could not be denied in the capital city. 

Commercial enterprise paid respects to the monumental street system which had been 
laid down. Into this framework the features of the new city were squeezed and fitted. 
Classic fagades were likewise draped upon the street fronts, but behind these fronts 
formless building space was heaped upon the land, even as in other cities. 

The contradiction between the classic and the commercial city was clearly apparent. 
To protect its character of monumental buildings and planning, the Federal reserva- 
tion was necessarily isolated from the remainder of urban development. With this 
separation the prescription of uniform building height and style, building sites, forms, 
and open space could be rigidly controlled. 

The paradox of the city was substantially complete. The execution of a plan for the 
capital of a great democratic government could be accomplished only by freezing its 
form into a preconceived and inflexible mold. The reason for the paradox had ap- 
parently escaped notice. 

It was falsely assumed that a planning "style" could be transferred from another 
age and adapted to a new set of conditions. It was overlooked that periods of culture 
in the past have been identified by the special stamp of character they evolved from 
within the framework of each. Great cultures have not been so recognized because of 
their similarities with previous periods, but because of the distinctive qualities they 
have contributed to the progress of civilization. 

The false premise upon which the plan of Washington, D. C., has evolved is mag- 
nified by the design of the structures themselves, the insistence upon classic forms with- 
out regard for the essential arrangement of interior space. Exterior space is equally 
oblivious to the functional elements of the city. The classic courtyards, their prototypes 
treated with fine paving or gracious gardens, have in Washington become oil spotted 
parking lots filled with automobiles. The Federal reservation of classic monumentalism 
is hollow and unnatural; the commercial city, warped into the pattern of its streets, is 
equally artificial. 

The Need for Regulation. Laissez-faire took deep root in the affairs of men as 
the commercial city formed. The new attitude of practicality presented something of a 
contradiction in urban building. It became increasingly apparent that if freedom was 
to avoid license some order must be established. In practical terms this meant the 
adoption of rules and regulations which, in turn, implied certain curbs upon laissez- 
faire. 



THE CITY OF CONTRASTS 87 

We have observed that regulations over city building were not new in the annals 
of history. King Hammurabi codified his rules of justice in 2,000 B.C. The Greeks had 
regulations pertaining to the building of dwellings. The Romans established height 
limits for tenements. Towns of the Middle Ages adopted various regulations like the 
restrictions against fire hazards and projecting upper stories. 

The sad condition of housing that developed with the factory system in the nineteenth 
century forced the enactment of many laws to curb abuses. Restrictions applying to 
commercial and industrial buildings were rare, and with the advent of the skyscraper 
the need for appropriate regulations became more and more apparent. 

Regulations for light, air, and lot coverage, though lax, were accepted for residential 
buildings, but commercial structures were permitted to occupy as much as 100 per cent 
of the lot area for the entire height. Steel construction and elevators pushed buildings 
higher. Light and air could penetrate on the street frontage only, and this diminished 
as buildings rose, floor upon floor, into the air. 

Regulations increased in number and scope during the early part of the twentieth 
century. Codes establishing standards of construction, mechanical, and electrical instal- 
lations were adopted to protect the public health and safety. Fireproof construction was 
required where congestion was most acute. Protection was assured for public rights-of- 
way. 

Mixed land uses, the indiscriminate placement of stores and shops in residential 
areas, induced premature depreciation of land values and residential neighborhoods. 
The necessity to exercise some measure of public control over land use was pressing. 

Zoning. There was some precedent for zoning. When town walls in Germany were 
leveled in the nineteenth century, building regulations designated "belts" in which 
apartments and single houses could be built about the periphery of the ramparts. Pro- 
tection from encroachment of undesirable land uses had been attempted in America. 
Exclusive residential sections in some middle-western cities were planned as courts 
entered through monumental gates and "block ordinances" were framed to restrict 
improvements to high-class residences. Height limits were placed on buildings in 
Boston in 1903 125 feet in the central district and 80 feet elsewhere. In 1909 Los 
Angeles adopted a regulation dividing the business area into seven "industrial" districts. 
The remainder of the city was declared to be residential and in this area "laundries" 
were excluded. After a piece of land, in which a brick industry was located, was annexed 
to the city another ordinance was enacted to prohibit brickyards in residential districts. 
Both these ordinances were upheld in the California courts. 

These cases were hardly more than experimental gestures, but the chaotic growth 
of cities made it imperative that positive steps be taken to bring some order into the 
urban pattern. It is a fortunate characteristic of humankind that when leadership is 
needed there is usually available someone willing and capable of assuming the re- 
sponsibility. Such a man was Edward M. Bassett, an attorney in New York City. To 
Mr. Bassett goes credit for a public service on behalf of the urban population. He 
undertook a thorough investigation of the power of the people to regulate their own 



88 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

destiny and worked diligently on the preparation of a legal instrument whereby the 
people could exercise effectively their powers to control the use of land in the urban 
community. 

Mr. Bassett defined zoning as "the regulation by districts under the police power 
of the height, bulk, and use of buildings, the use of land, and the density of popula- 
tion." With this clear-cut purpose, the first comprehensive zoning ordinance in this 
country was enacted by New York City in 1916. There is no better testimony to the 
remarkable thoroughness of Mr. Bassett and his colleagues than the subsequent history 
of zoning in the courts. Tested in a number of cases in later years, the principle of 
zoning was upheld in every court. 

One of these cases is particularly significant. It fairly confirmed the democratic 
nature of planning, and established it as an instrument with which the people could 
order the destiny of their cities. In his opinion on the "Euclid Case" 1 Justice Suther- 
land of the U. S. Supreme Court said: 1 

Until recently urban life was comparatively simple; but with the increase and concentration of 
population, problems have developed, and constantly are developing, which require additional 
restrictions in respect to the use and occupation of private lands in communities. Regulations, the 
wisdom, necessity and validity of which, as applied to existing conditions, are so apparent that 
they are now uniformly sustained, a century ago, or even a half century ago, probably would 
have been rejected as arbitrary and oppressive. 

Little need be added to the words of Supreme Court Justice Sutherland. 

Zoning had a profound effect upon American cities. For the first time there was 
created an instrument with which to control the use of land in urban areas. It is charac- 
teristic of this technique that it protects the general welfare of the people by protecting 
that of each individual citizen. 

There was nothing in the nature of zoning that confined it to urban development 
alone. It was essentially a device for planning the execution of a plan and as such 
could be applied at any scale and for any land requiring public control over its use. 
It has been applied to counties in a manner similar to that of cities, and it has been 
adapted as a means for conservation of natural resources. In 1929 the State of Wiscon- 
sin empowered counties to establish districts in which agriculture was excluded from 
submarginal lands and forestry and recreational development encouraged within these 
privately owned lands. 

Zoning is a vital part of the urban machinery, but it can fail through abuse, misuse, 
and resistance to essential changes in the urban pattern for the general welfare. 

Extension of Public Services. The industrial revolution changed the city into a 
metropolis. The urban population became the multitude, and the supply of basic human 
wants to this multitude required highly organized services. Transportation via common 
carriers, roads, water supply, sewage disposal and drainage, communications, power 
and illumination, all vastly expanded in scope. Their impact upon the public health 

i Village of Euclid, Ohio v. Ambler Realty Company, 272 U. S. 363, November 22, 1926. 



THE CITY OF CONTRASTS 89 

and safety increased accordingly. Being thus colored with the public interest, some of 
these services were subject to public regulation; others were embraced in public owner- 
ship. 

Public works to control or harness natural resources for the community at large were 
not new. We will recall the dikes, reservoirs, and irrigation projects along the Nile; 
the aqueducts, sewers, and roads built by the Romans as public projects. This responsi- 
bility disappeared for a time during the Feudal Period but returned toward the end of 
the Middle Ages. Limited though they were, water supply and sewage disposal were 
then considered public responsibilities. 

In the early history of this country many of the highways were private toll roads. 
They were transferred to public ownership and control, and the sewerage system and 
drainage remained a public responsibility. There are other public services, however,, 
which are owned and operated as private enterprises. Because of their impact upon the 
common welfare, the continuity of their service is essential and they enjoy a monopoly 
guaranteed by franchise. Known as public utilities, they are subject to regulation by 
public authority. 

The railroads, street railways, and other forms of common carriers, the telephone, 
telegraph, and radio are with some exceptions regulated public utilities. The same is 
true of electric power, illumination, and gas distribution. The supply of water is 
generally owned by the public, although there are exceptions. 

The "social" control of utility services is an important factor in the future of urban 
development. It is therefore pertinent to understand the position of our courts in deal- 
ing with this phase of democratic procedures. 

In 1876 Chief Justice Waite of the U. S. Supreme Court set forth the theory of public 
interest in private property. The case 2 was that of a grain operator who violated a 
local statute controlling the rates for storage. The court held that the enterprise was 
"affected with the public interest" because of the dependence of the public upon it and 
the consequent right of the public to exercise authority over its operations. Justice 
Waite stated, 

When, therefore, one devotes his property to a use in which the public has an interest, he, in 
effect, grants to the public an interest in that use, and must submit to be controlled by the public 
for the common good, to the extent of the interest he has thus created. 

Chief Justice Taft confirmed this position in a later case 3 with this opinion: 

In a sense, the public is concerned about all lawful business because it contributes to the pros- 
perity and well-being of the people. The public may suffer from high prices or strikes in many 
trades, but the expression "clothed with the public interest" as applied to a business means more 
than that the public welfare is affected by continuity or by the price at which a commodity is- 
sold or a service rendered. The circumstances which clothe a particular kind of business with a 

2 Mum v. Illinois, 94 U. S. 113. 

3 Charles Wolff Packing Company v. Court of Industrial Relations of the State of Kansas, 262 U. S. 522 
(1923). 



90 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

public interest, in the sense of Mujin v. Illinois and other cases, must be such as to create a pecul- 
iarly close relation between the public and those engaged in it, and raise implications of an 
affirmative obligation on their part to be reasonable in dealing with the public. 

It will be observed that enterprise engaging in public service assumes a dual obliga- 
tion. The first is to supply all the needs of the public implied by the nature of the 
service, and the second is to provide the services at a cost reflecting reasonable but not 
excessive profit. This status of a public utility a public service for which it enjoys a 
monopoly imposes obligations beyond the scope of the usual private enterprise. Pub- 
lic utilities become an integral part of city planning, and successful development of the 
city is largely dependent upon the effectiveness of their operations. 




CHAPTER 7 



THE LIVING 
ENVIRONMENT 



Patrick Geddes. Ever present among the complicated urban activities of the nine- 
teenth century was the effort to improve the living environment. Urban speculation and 
its disintegrating effect upon the environment of man had aroused the public conscious- 
ness during the century. The critical essays of eminent men in the literary world John 
Ruskin, Thomas Carlyle, Lord Shaftesbury, Charles Dickens, Engels, and Benjamin 
Disraeli shed light on the issues with the force of their insight and talent. 

Among those who spoke out against the evils at the turn of the century was Patrick 
Geddes. In 1892 Geddes founded the Outlook Tower in Edinburgh, and through this 
medium he presented the whole complex of urban life. He insisted upon a view of all 
phases of human existence as the base of operations, an integration of physical plan- 
ning with social and economic improvements. 

This principle does not sound unfamiliar today, but it was new when Geddes ex- 
pressed it. As a contemporary of his said: "There was a time when it seemed only 
necessary to shake up into a bottle the German town-extension plan, the Parisian Boule- 
vard and Vista, and the English Garden Village, to produce a mechanical mixture 
which might be applied indiscriminately and beneficently to every town in this country. 
Thus it would be 'town-planned' according to the most up-to-date notions. Pleasing 
dream! First shattered by Geddes, emerging from his Outlook Tower in the frozen 
north, to produce that nightmare of complexity, the Edinburgh Room at the great Town- 
Planning Exhibition of 1910." 

Patrick Geddes gave voice to the necessity for what was later to become Regional 
Planning. 

The Garden City. There was another who rose above the throng at the end of the 
century. He was Ebenezer Howard. Disturbed by the depressing ugliness, haphazard 
growth, and unhealthful conditions of cities, he had an idea which he set forth in a 
little book entitled Tomorrow, published in 1898. The idea was the Garden City. 

In this book Howard described a town in which the land would remain in the single 
ownership of the community. The dwellings would be distributed about a large central 
court in which the public buildings would be located. The shopping center would be 

91 



92 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

on the edge of the town and industries on the outskirts. The city would have a popula- 
tion of some 30,000 people in an area of 1,000 acres. Surrounding the entire city 
would be a permanent belt of agricultural land of 5,000 acres. 

Rather than failing of execution as did the proposals of the early Utopians, Ebenezer 
Howard, before his death in 1928, saw his idea become reality. The Garden City 
Association was formed in 1899 and in 1903 the First Garden City, Limited, a limited 
dividend society, obtained 4,500 acres of land 34 miles from London and began the 
city of Letchworth. It was designed for a maximum population of 35,000 with an 
agricultural belt of 3,000 acres. In thirty years this town had grown to a population of 
15,000, with more than 150 shops and sixty industries, and had paid 5 per cent divi- 
dends on the invested stock. At a later date a second garden city, Welwyn, was started. 
The site was 2,400 acres and it was designed for a population of 40,000. In fifteen years 
it had a population of 10,000, with fifty industries. 

These cities followed the scheme of Ebenezer Howard, the agricultural belt remain- 
ing a permanent protection and not a reservation for continued expansion of the urban 
area usually considered the only usefulness of vacant land on the periphery of cities. 
These towns have had the added advantage of retaining, for the benefit of the popula- 
tion itself, the increment of increased value of land created by a growing and prospering 
community. 

There is a difference between the usual joint-stock company and Garden City, 
Limited, which developed Letchworth. The principal object of the latter is to create 
a town for the benefit of the community. In so doing, the rights of the shareholders to 
dividends on their stock are limited (5 per cent in Garden City, Limited) and profits 
earned above the dividends are applied to the benefit of the whole community. The 
company is in a position of public trustee rather than a private landlord. It has proven 
a sound, but not a speculative, investment. Land for all development purposes is leased 
for a period of ninety-nine years. The town government is the Urban District Council of 
fifteen members, elected by the residents, and of these five members retire annually 
and are eligible for re-election. 

Another feature distinguishes Letchworth. Development and growth of the Garden 
City are reversed from the practices of the usual speculative city. Aside from the 
merits of planning in either type of town, zoning in Letchworth determines the use of 
specific areas and only those uses are permitted; only factories and workshops are 
built in the industrial zones, and shops in the commercial zones. In the speculative 
town any use of a lesser economic character is permitted in its zoning provisions; 
dwellings are found in industrial and commercial zones, and these mixed uses are 
largely responsible for the sad state of the urban environment. The overdeveloped 
center and underdeveloped periphery of the speculative town are absent in Letchworth. 
Open spaces remain for development as the need arises and for the appropriate use 
provided in the plan. 

Of the 1,500 acres of the town contained within the rural belt, 935 acres are reserved 
for residential use, 170 acres for industry, 60 acres for shopping, and the remainder 



THE LIVING ENVIRONMENT 93 

for parks and roads. There are some 4,000 dwellings in the town of which the Urban 
District Council has built 1,300 cottages for workers. 

The Common Denominator. The house a family lives in is the common denomi- 
nator of the city; it is the fiber of the city. The link between it and city building is so 
close the two are almost synonymous. Industrial and commercial enterprise strengthen 
the structure of the city, but it is the community of homes that marks the health, even 
the civilization, of a people. 

Haussmann ripped through the slums of Paris with his boulevards, civic centers were 
planned for American cities, the impressive garb of classic fagades was hung on the 
streets of the commercial city, and zoning was devised as the legal instrument to lend 
stability to the urban framework. But housing, the manifestation of the inner structure 
of civilization and the culture of people, remained as always the "left-over" in the 
urban plan. 

Had zoning come early rather than late the urban predicament might have been much 
different. It is not exactly practical to plan a city after it has been built. Planning 
implies a program before an act, but zoning was adopted after the city had taken shape 
and zoning could hardly accomplish more than freeze the mixture. There was no 
chance to prescribe the ingredients before they had been poured together and well 
stirred. It was inevitable that housing should become the excrescence of urban land use. 

City planning was first an urge to improve the esthetic pattern of the urban environ- 
ment. Then zoning made of it a statistical exercise and a marathon of prognostication. 
These movements were necessary and valuable, but they did not improve the environ- 
ment of the people and that is the purpose of city planning. Housing has thus become 
the principal instrument to attain that objective. It brings into focus the social, eco- 
nomic, and esthetic aims and needs of the urban population. It consequently becomes a 
political responsibility. 

After World War I the housing shortage became a major crisis in Europe. Building 
inactivity through the war years had left the people of all countries with not only a 
shortage of dwellings, but monetary systems that, through inflation and war debt, 
needed transformation. It was essential that governments take a hand. 

Public policy with respect to housing had made considerable progress in European 
countries during the nineteenth century. The groundwork for public assistance had been 
laid. Financial aid was available to private enterprise through public utility societies 
and trade union co-operatives. Local public authorities were empowered to provide 
housing for the lowest income families. The exercise of condemnation by public authori- 
ties was an accepted instrument to enforce housing improvement, and cities in a num- 
ber of countries had acquired large areas of vacant land outlying the built-up city. 

The housing program restored to the minds of men that standards of living are more 
than a load of mechanical equipment surrounded by walls of a building and covered 
by a mortgage. The family and its dwelling had been engulfed by the tidal wave of 
the industrial revolution. It emerged from the war as the primary unit of design in city 
development. 



94 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

The record of this program is of historic importance. The performance in each 
country assumed similar characteristics, but each deserves some attention for the re- 
markable progress it represents in the total pattern. 

England. In England the Housing Act of 1919 superseded the Act of 1890 in 
response to the "Homes for Heroes" campaign. It provided for subsidies by the 
Ministry to local authorities for clearance of slums and building low-cost housing. 
During the twenties and early thirties the purposes of this Act were consolidated and 
extended. Compensation to owners in built-up areas declared ready for clearance was 
restricted to the market value of the land, and no payment was made for the sub- 
standard structures on the site. Standards of occupancy were established to prevent 
overcrowding of families within dwellings, and local authorities were vested with 
police power to order improvements in physically substandard dwellings or their 
demolition. 

The housing program had given strong impetus to enactment of the Housing and 
Town Planning Act of 1909 which, with subsequent amendments, became the Town 
and Country Planning Act of 1932. This was a comprehensive piece of legislation. 
Local authorities were not only empowered to prepare and enforce plans for the 
urban area, but typical of the British pride in their rural countryside, the Act provided 
for the preservation of rural areas and important buildings. It further implemented 
the co-operative planning for two or more separate political subdivisions cities and 
counties where they required such treatment as a region. 

The Housing Act of 1936 brought the relationship between housing, slums, and city 
planning into clearer focus. The local authority is required to prepare a plan for re- 
development of blighted areas, in which these areas are related to the general plan for 
the city. Such an area may then be declared suitable for redevelopment and the author- 
ity is empowered to acquire the land, in whole or in part, and arrange for its rebuilding 
by private enterprise or public authority. The terms on which this declaration may be 
made are that at least fifty working-class houses are contained in the area; at least 
one-third of the dwellings are overcrowded or physically unfit, congested, or unsatis- 
factory for renovation ; that the area is suitably located for housing, in part, for indus- 
trial workers; and that redevelopment of the entire area is necessary to establish 
adequate standards of low-rent housing in the area. 

The effectiveness of the British program is demonstrated by performance. Accord- 
ing to the 20th Annual Report of the Ministry of Health, there were 3,998,366 
dwellings built in England between the end of the war and 1939. Of this number, 
2,455,341 were built by private enterprise, 430,481 were built by private enterprise 
with some degree of government assistance, and 1,112,544 were built by local author- 
ities. 

Slum clearance was an important phase of the program in England. However, apart- 
ment buildings three to five stories in height were considered necessary in order to 
restore ample open spaces in the residential plan, and this was contrary to the tradi- 
tional dwelling of the English people. The cottage and garden was the type of dwelling 




School 
Agricultural Belt 

Parks 

Roads 

Railroad 

Industry 
Business 




I MILE 



LETCHWORTH 



WELWYN 




Greenbelt 

Parks 

Parkway 

Roads 

Railroad 

School 

Shops 
Shopping Center 




BECONTREE 



WYTHENSHAWE 



THE GARDEN CITY AND THE SATELLITE TOWN 

Reflecting the ideas of Ebenezer Howard, the Garden City of Letchworth was begun near London in 1903 and 
Welwyn soon followed. Limited in their initial planning to an ultimate maximum population, the garden cities- 
were surrounded by agricultural fields similar to the original proposal by Robert Owen. The satellite towns of 
Wythenshawe and Becontree are similar to the garden cities with the primary exception that the latter are, 
self-contained, each having its own industry, whereas the former are dependent upon the larger industrial 
cities, to which they are attached, for industrial employment. 



96 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

close to the heart of the Englishman. The most successful housing developments were, 
consequently, those in which this type predominated. 

The Satellite Garden Town. Two great projects were undertaken in this period 
Becontree, a satellite community for 25,000 families on 2,770 acres near London, 
and Wythenshawe, adjacent to Manchester. 

Sir Ernest Simon has called Wythenshawe a satellite garden town in contrast to a 
garden city such as Letchworth and Welwyn. The two have similar characteristics: a 
residential area of low density of not more than twelve families per acre, factory and 
shopping areas, parks, schools, and other civic buildings, and protective buffers of 
permanent agricultural belts on the periphery. However, a garden city is intended to 
be a self-contained and self-sustaining community whereas the satellite garden town 
is situated close to a large city in which the residents of the garden town may have 
their work and places of business. 

The city council of Manchester appointed a Housing Committee in 1926 to consider 
the possibility of a satellite garden town to relieve the congested slums in the city. An 
estate of about 2,500 acres in single ownership adjacent to the city on the Mersey River 
was recommended as the site. It was later increased to 5,500 acres, and after some 
opposition locally and in Parliament the entire area was incorporated in the city in 
1930, most of the land being finally purchased at agricultural value. Mr. Barry Parker, 
Architect, was invited to prepare plans for the estate. An agricultural belt of 1,000 
acres was reserved, and the original grounds of the estate were retained as a 250-acre 
park. A golf course of 100 acres was also provided. Two broad parkways run through 
the town connecting with the city. The residential areas which border these parkways 
are separated from the roadways by an open space 150 feet wide. Side roads give 
access and ingress to abutting property and the main road has been confined to through- 
traffic with limited access. The residential area is 3,000 acres with a maximum density 
of 12 houses per acre; 25,000 houses are planned with an ultimate population of 
100,000. 

The land on which Wythenshawe is built remains in the ownership of the city of 
Manchester. Both the city and private enterprise may build on the estate and by 1935 
a total of about 4,800 dwellings had been completed. Of these the city built some 
4,600. It is planned that about two-thirds of the residential area will be used for muni- 
cipal housing, and one-third for private housing. About 500 acres are reserved for 
industrial, commercial, and civic buildings. 

Some criticism was leveled at the city council of Manchester for extravagance in 
purchasing a large tract of land and reserving large areas for permanent open space. 
Sir Ernest Simon, a staunch leader for improved housing in England, has defended the 
policy of the city with a comparison of the method pursued in the usual procedure : 

Let us consider first the question of the bulk purchase of land. The question is whether the 
City Council has been wise to purchase so large a block of land straight off, or whether it would 
have been more economical to continue its previous policy of purchasing relatively small plots 
of land as and when required. It has in fact, since the War, purchased nearly 2,000 acres at a 



THE LIVING ENVIRONMENT 97 

cost which has been gradually rising, but which must average about 400 pounds an acre, giving a 
total of about 800,000 pounds. In Wythenshawe, on the other hand, the original purchase of 
2,500 acres was at 80 pounds an acre. Since then prices have gradually increased. As develop- 
ment has proceeded and as it has become known that the Corporation was in the market for more 
land, the prices have been put up, and the average price paid for the whole 3.500 acres is perhaps 
in the neighborhood of about 100 pounds an acre, or a total of say 350,000 pounds. 

If at Wythenshawe the Corporation had pursued its old policy, first of all developing main 
roads and main drainage, then gradually buying pieces of land as they were required for housing 
and became ripe for building, there is not the least doubt that they would have had to pay a 
similar average price to that paid in the rest of Manchester; that is to say about 400 pounds an 
acre. 

The effect of the bulk purchase therefore is that the land has been purchased at an average 
price of 100 pounds per acre as against an average of 400 pounds. So far as the 2,000 acres are 
concerned which are to be used for municipal housing, nobody denies that this land was needed 
for housing, and that it would, at some time, have had to be bought for that purpose. The economy 
through buying in bulk has therefore been 300 pounds an acre, or a total of 600,000 pounds for 
the 2,000 acres. Against this saving must of course be set the annual loss in owning the land up 
to the time of development; say 4 per cent for interest charges. This amounts to 8,000 pounds 
per annum. From this must be deducted the rents receivable from the agricultural land (less cost 
of management) which would bring the net burden down to a figure of say 6,000 pounds per 
annum, that is to say, against a total saving of 600,000 pounds there is an annual charge, so long 
as the land is wholly undeveloped, of 6,000 pounds. The period of delay before full development is, 
of course, uncertain, but if Manchester proceeds with its programme of building 3,000 houses a 
year, most of them being necessarily built at Wythenshawe, the estate will be fully developed in 
less than ten years. Assuming, however, that twenty years were required, the burden of interest, 
beginning at 6,000 pounds per annum and gradually falling to nothing, would amount in the 
whole period to 60,000 pounds. The net saving on the housing estate owing to the early purchase 
would therefore be no less than 540,000 pounds. 

Let us now turn to consider the 1,500 acres purchased for factories, shops, public buildings and 
private enterprise houses. Development is still in its early stages, and no particulars have been 
published as regards the terms on which this land is being leased for these different purposes. 
We are informed, however, that the ground rents which are being obtained are such that they 
represent on the average a capital value of at least 300 pounds per acre above the bare cost of the 
land. When these 1,500 acres are fully developed there will therefore be a profit on the capitalized 
value of the land of at least 300 pounds an acre, or 450,000 pounds on the whole area. Against 
this item also there will be a set-off representing the interest charges during the period of devel- 
opment, which on the assumptions previously made should certainly not exceed 50,000 pounds, 
leaving a net gain of 400,000 pounds. 

Taking the landlord account as a whole (covering the 3,500 acres) we come, therefore, to the 
following conclusion: that the bulk purchase of 3,500 acres by the Corporation as against the old 
policy of hand-to-mouth buying of the land required for housing, and not buying any land for 
other purposes, will, if the estate is fully developed in twenty years or less, show a capital advan- 
tage to the Corporation of approximately 1,000,000 pounds. 

Accusations of extravagance against the City Council for the bulk purchase of land are, there- 
fore, the exact reverse of the truth. The fact is that the City Council has shown a high degree of 
business foresight in making the purchase, which will ultimately be of great benefit to the rate- 
payers. 

There is only one other aspect of the Wythenshawe development which has been called extrava- 
gant: the generous reservation which has been made in the plans for the agricultural belt, parks, 
parkways and the preservation of spinneys. Admittedly, the area reserved is an advance on what 
has previously been done; but the difference between the normal practice of reserving 10 per 
cent of the area for parks, on the one hand, and what has been done at Wythenshawe on the other, 
is not great. The total expenditure on open spaces in the whole three parishes of Wythenshawe, 
even if the whole agricultural belt is actually purchased by the City Council, will certainly not 



98 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

reach 200,000 pounds; it must be admitted that the necessary open spaces could have been pro- 
vided for perhaps 50,000 pounds less. But this extra expenditure will make a big difference to 
the amenity of the estate. Can anybody seriously call this extravagance when it is set off against 
the 1,000,000 pounds which will be gained on the landlord account? 1 

Sweden. Mature policies of land acquisition by cities in the Scandinavian countries 
resulted in aggressive participation in the supply of housing by private enterprise via 
the public utility societies and housing co-operatives. Copenhagen in Denmark, Stock- 
holm in Sweden, and Oslo in Norway made outstanding progress in both urban and 
rural housing, and standards were maintained at a relatively high level. It is estimated 
that 10 per cent of the population in Stockholm live in housing produced by the co- 
operative societies alone, and a fifth of the people in Copenhagen and Oslo are accom- 
modated in co-operative and public utility housing. 

The industrial revolution did not reach Swedish cities until electric power had been 
developed as a major power source. As a consequence congestion did not afflict Swedish 
cities to the extent suffered by other cities on the continent. Decentralization was feasible 
power was brought to the people rather than the people congregating at the source of 
power. WMle migration to cities during the nineteenth century had increased ten- to 
twentyfold elsewhere, the increase of population in town and country was stable in 
Sweden. During the nineteenth century rural population increased from 1,000,000 to 
2,000,000, and urban population increased from 2,000,000 to 4,000,000. 

The central district of Stockholm contained its share of slums, but they did not 
constitute the relatively large problem prevailing in continental cities. The principal 
problem in Sweden was overcrowding within dwellings, undoubtedly due to the 
rigorous climate and the heating problem it created. More than 50 per cent of the 
families occupied apartments of one and two rooms. 

Since Sweden was a neutral country during World War I the economy had not 
only escaped suffering but had fared quite well. A shortage of housing occurred 
because construction had lagged, but the government was in a satisfactory financial 
position to render all needed assistance to correct it. From 1917 to 1920 municipal- 
ities subsidized public utility societies and co-operative groups that were building 
low-cost housing to the extent of one-third the cost. In 1920 this subsidy was reduced 
to 15 per cent of the cost because of increased wages and resulting capacity to pay 
higher rents. With stability generally restored by 1923 the subsidies were discontinued. 
Interest rates on mortgage money were high, and the State Dwelling Loan Fund was 
set up to make loans for second mortgages at low interest rates to offset the high first 
mortgage costs. 

It was a tradition in Sweden for citizens to have the greatest possible freedom 
from government aid or interference. This tradition had not only been strengthened 
by, but was largely due to, the vigorous and aggressive co-operative movement. It 
became an effective and progressive instrument for the maintenance of democratic 
procedures and economic freedom. In order to remove itself from housing operations 
as much as possible, the government created an independent agency in 1929 to 

1 The Rebuilding of Manchester, Sir E. D. Simon, Longmans Green & Company, 1935. 



THE LIVING ENVIRONMENT 99 

administer the Swedish Housing Loan Fund. This agency loaned government funds 
at low interest and long terms to continue the building of housing for low-income 
families. The successful operation of co-operatives soon obviated any need for 
these loans, and financial responsibility was shifted to the co-operative societies. By 
1934, 10 per cent of the people in Stockholm lived in housing developments sponsored 
by the co-operative societies. 

The co-operatives were of two major types. The S.K.B. (Stockholm Kooperativa 
Forbundet, or Stockholm Co-operative Society) was engaged in the production of 
various consumer goods. Housing built by this society was primarily for its mem- 
ber employees. The H.S.B. (Hyresgasternas Sparkassa och Byggnads-forening, or 
Tenant Savings Bank and Building Society) was an organization specifically organ- 
ized to build dwellings for members of the society, and membership was not restricted 
to any particular occupation. Careful research in planning was carried on by this 
society, and the projects it developed introduced advanced techniques in planning, 
equipment, and community facilities. 

Since 1904 the city of Stockholm had purchased 20,000 acres of land surrounding 
the city. This land was incorporated and planned for "garden suburbs/' The city 
installed streets and utilities, and sponsored a program for working families to lease 
lots and build their own dwellings. Loans were available from the municipality up 
to 90 per cent of the value of each unit. The loans were in the form of materials pur- 
chased by the city, the balance (10 per cent) being the owner's contribution in 
labor. Standard plans for the dwellings, ranging from 700 square feet to 1,000 square 
feet in floor area, were prepared by the city, and skilled supervision was provided dur- 
ing construction. It was a popular and successful program, offering an opportunity 
for low-income families to leave the congested slums. 

Rebuilding of cities was aided by the Town Planning Act of 1931 which required 
all urban 'communities, regardless of size, to prepare a rebuilding plan. All improve- 
ments thereafter were obliged to conform to the plan. 

In 1935 encouragement was given to rehousing slum dwellers by means of rent 
rebates ranging from 30 per cent of economic rents according to family size. There 
were other forms of housing improvement such as joint rehabilitation of substandard 
buildings by owners of contiguous property for which the municipality advanced 
loans. Housing for the aged and for single women were also included within the 
scope of municipal programs. 

The methods employed in Sweden to maintain good housing were varied. Public 
policy was always flexible enough to be adjusted as changing conditions warranted,, 
and private enterprise, through the co-operatives and housing societies, was courageous 
and astute with its investments. 

France. Epidemics of cholera generated some activity in the nineteenth century to 
correct substandard housing in France, and the threat of mob violence moved Napoleon 
III to build wide avenues through the slums as a means to control them. But it was 
not until 1894 that serious legislation was enacted. The Act passed at that time was 
similar to the Belgian Law of 1889 which made funds available from the government 




A Fifteen-story tower apartment buildings 
B Three- and four-story apartment buildings 



LA CITE DE LA MUETTE 
Beaudoin & Lods, Architects 

The first stage of development at Drancy, near Paris. One of the large housing projects built by the Department 
of the Seine in the outlying districts around Paris. This unusual project shows the usual difficulties that arise 
when urban expansion proceeds independently of adequate plans for the extension of utilities and transporta- 
tion facilities. It -was largely vacant because these facilities were lacking until World War II when it was 
converted into a military barracks. 




MarceZ Lode 



THE LIVING ENVIRONMENT 10! 

at low interest rates for houses to be sold exclusively to industrial employees. In 
1912 the Office Public d' Habitations a Bon Marche (Public Office for Low-cost 
Housing), an organization of local authorities, was empowered to loan funds for, 
and subsidize, low-cost housing. It was augmented several times later until the Loucheur 
Act of 1928, which concentrated further upon production of housing for low-income 
families and expanded financing through public authorities and private enterprise. 
Nearly half the dwellings provided by the Public Office after World War I were 
concentrated about Paris. 

Despite ambitious plans to rebuild the congested slums the Hots insalubre a 
blot was dropped on the housing program in Paris. When the city walls were razed, 
it was expected that the open space would be reserved and the surrounding slum belt 
cleared and rebuilt with appropriate standards of planning. It was another idle dream. 
When the fortifications were leveled, the land was leased to speculative enterprise in 
1930 and some 20,000 dwellings crowded into tightly planned tenements eight stories 
high were built in the open space. The adjacent slums remained. 

There was some encouragement in the late thirties. The Department of the Seine 
planned a series of cite jardins in the outlying areas of Paris. While literally trans- 
lated as "garden cities," these developments were designed as satellite garden 
villages somewhat similar to Wythenshawe in England. In the words of M. Henri 
Sellier, Administrator of the Housing Office of the Department of the Seine, the cite 
jardins were planned as "essential elements of the City of Greater Paris." 

Another blow befell the program. The necessity for co-operation from public 
utility agencies in the successful development of the city was amply demonstrated. 
Lack of proper arrangements for transportation meant failure for some of the cite 
jardins outside Paris and near failure for others. The interesting project at Drancy 
La Muette remained vacant because transportation was not provided. Chatenay Mal- 
abry, planned for 20,000 people, and Plessis Robinson were partly occupied, but 
transportation was not completed. 

The post-war housing program in France hardly set a standard to serve as a guide 
for urban development. The plan for the cite jardins about Paris was courageous, but, 
as indicated above, it was not enough for success. Urban planning is complex, and 
the variety of public services makes the difference between success and failure. 

Germany. Certain policies had been well established in Germany prior to World 
War I. Public utility societies and trade union co-operatives were recognized as 
effective instruments in the housing field. State financial aid was an accepted method; 
during the last half of the nineteenth century Bismarck had inaugurated social insur- 
ance, and this source supplied funds for housing loans for many years. Local gov- 
ernments had also assumed responsibility for housing government workers and financ- 
ing public utility societies. 

During his tenure of office in 1902, Mayor Adickes of Frankfurt obtained passage 
of a law (Lex Adickes), permitting the city government to pool private property, 
rearrange it to conform to the city plan, and redistribute such land for redevelop- 



102 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

ment. In this process the city was further authorized to retain 40 per cent of the land, 
without compensation to the owners, for streets, parks, and other public uses. Pursuant 
to this enactment in Frankfurt, a policy was adopted in numerous German cities to 
acquire outlying vacant land on the periphery. The purpose of this policy was pro- 
tection from the inevitable speculation and resulting boom in land prices which 
accompanied the rapid increase in urban population. 

This policy was fully rewarded after World War I when the need for housing, pro- 
duction of which had come to an abrupt halt, became most acute. The cities were 
then in a position to lease large quantities of these public lands to private and co-opera- 
tive organizations for the construction of housing without the penalty of excessive 
land costs. In seventy German towns with more than 50,000 population, more than 
6,000 acres of city-owned land were leased between 1926 and the rise of Hitler. 
Similar policies were adopted in other countries, Austria, Switzerland, Holland, 
and Denmark, and 15,000 acres outlying Prague in Czechoslovakia were made avail- 
able for housing. 

The first world war left Germany impoverished. Inflation upset the monetary sys- 
tem, an inactive building industry left a serious housing shortage, and the country 
was undergoing transition from imperial to republican government. High financing 
costs rendered it difficult for private enterprise to cope with the housing problem. 
Interest on mortgage money had more than doubled, moving from 4 per cent to as 
high as 10 per cent. Rents had quadrupled while wages had increased only 50 per 
cent. It became imperative for state and local governments to finance a large part 
of the housing program- 
Property owners had become beneficiaries of the inflation which had the effect of 
liquidating all previous mortgages. As a consequence the Hauszinsteuer (House Rent 
Tax) was adopted in 1921. Prewar rents were used as the base for a tax levy ranging 
from 10 to 50 per cent of the rents, and the funds thus derived were used to 
finance second mortgages at a very low interest rate (generally 1 per cent) to 
compensate for the high cost of first mortgage money. Administered by local gov- 
ernment, these funds were loaned to public utility societies and co-operatives for 
housing. The effectiveness of this policy is evident in the production of some 3,000,000 
dwellings between the war and the rise of Hitler. More than three-quarters of these 
dwellings received financial aid from the government. The housing problem was 
not solved, a sufficient supply of dwellings was not provided and the slums remained, 
but the program represents a remarkable achievement for what it did accomplish. 

German cities had suffered the same kind of chaotic growth experienced by other 
cities on the continent during the nineteenth century. It was obviously necessary to 
reconsider land utilization and planning if the tremendous housing program were 
to result in a permanent asset to the communities in which it was built. It is a 
significant contrast with our ^w" experience in the United States. Emergencies have 
been the excuse to postpone urban planning in our country; the emergency in republican 
Germany was considered the sound reason to engage in the most serious planning. 



A Bridge 

B Market Plaza 

C Future Markef 
Place 




MARGARETHEN-HOHE, Essen 



George Metzendorf, Architect 



Emerging from the Garden City movement, this village was developed in 1912 by the Krupp family for workers 
in the industrial steel plants in Essen. The community was planned for 2,000-2,500 dwellings (12,000-16,000 
population) and the first stage is shown in black. It illustrates a number of planning features. Surrounded by 
forest, the principal connection with the city is by way of the bridge (A) on the north boundary. Rather than 
bisecting the plan in the usual manner, the main traffic street swings around the village and by-passes the 
market plaza (B). This shopping center and the future principal market place (C) are conveniently located 
within the dwelling area rather than upon the periphery. The schools (D) are situated within blocks of 
dwellings rather than upon the traffic roads. The road system is designed to fit the topography of the site but 
is arranged to avoid through-traffic on any but the main roadway. It will also be observed that buildings are 
generally set back at road intersections to avoid obstruction of traffic vision at the corners. 

It is a curious paradox that this development to improve the living environment of the working people of 
Essen was dedicated to the same member of the Krupp family for which the powerful military cannon "Big 
Bertha" was named a few years later. 





POSSMORWEG, Hamburg 

Built in 1927-'28 on plans by Schneider, Elingius, and Schramm. A variation of the "hollow square" planning 
characteristic of the early housing program in Germany. Under the direction of the city architect, Fritz 
Schumacher, this type of planning continued in Hamburg. The large space in interior courts was a vast im- 
provement over high land coverage, but orientation of the dwellings was compromised. 



J 




PRAUNHEIM 




10 



ROMERSTADT 



Praunheim and Romersladt were among the early developments in the extensive program under ihe direction 
of Ernst May in Frankfurt am Main. Praunheim with 1,441 dwellings was begun in 1926 and extended through 
1930; RomerstadL with 1,220 dwellings was built in 1927-28. The architects were May, H. Boehm, Bangert, 
.and E. Kaufmann. 

Two-story row-houses predominated in these developments, although some three-story apartment buildings 
were included. Orientation was not dealt with as insistently as in subsequent planning, but the houses were 
planned somewhat differently on each side of the street. The ample open space is noteworthy, and community 
facilities were well considered because of the isolated site location. Schools and play areas, guest houses, shop- 
ping, and a theater were planned. 

The unit plans show a dwelling for the north side of a street with the living room to the south, or street 
side. In this case, it will be seen on the plot plan that these dwellings are set back from the street line. In 
the dwelling for the south side of the street, the living room is placed on the opposite side from the street, 
facing south. The third unit plan shows the type of minimum dwelling developed in Frankfurt am Main 
for an outside corridor giving entrance to the dwellings. 





PLAN FOR SOUTH 
SIDE OF STREET 




PLAN FOR NORTH 
SIDE OF STREET 



zi 



FAS 5 A.O E. 



OUTSIDE BALCONY CORRIDOR PLAN 
FOR MINIMAL-TYPE DWELLING 




HOMERSTADT European Picture Service 

Private living gardens are provided for the dwellings and there are allotment gardens for vegetables in some 
areas. 




106 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

Despite the shadows cast over that country since Hitler's rise to power and the national 
frustration it brought, the housing program of the 1920-30 decade looms as an example 
of aggressive, though immature, democracy in action. 

The pressing demand for new dwellings gave neither the time nor the funds for a 
real program to clear the slums; this was necessarily postponed until an adequate 
supply of dwellings could be built. Two effective means were brought into play in 
the early twenties: the public utility society (limited-dividend company) and the 
co-operative society. The public utility society, though comparable to the limited 
dividend company in this country, was subject to careful supervision by the state 
and was eligible to receive the benefits of several forms of subsidies found necessary 
to implement a large supply of new housing. They were formed for the purpose of 
building low-cost housing and, in spite of state supervision, exercised a high degree 
of initiative and ingenuity in the planning of their projects. The co-operatives, or self- 
aid societies, were largely organized by trade unions as a means to supply housing 
for their members. These companies enjoyed privileges similar to public utility 
societies and assumed the same obligations. The effectiveness of these groups is 
demonstrated by the extensive operations of the three largest which built 71,000 
dwellings up to 1929. These three, known as "Dewog," "Gagfah," and "Heimat," were 
among some 4,300 co-operative societies in operation. 

In addition to large organizations there were a number of smaller private companies 
engaged in the program, but they contributed to a much less degree than the above- 
mentioned companies. The government created various agencies under jurisdiction of 
the several provinces and municipalities, for research in the technical phases of plan- 
ning, construction, and financing. The results of this research were made available to 
all private and public organizations in the housing field. 

With few exceptions, planning prior to 1925 had been confined to the usual city 
blocks. Inadequate building regulations had permitted an excessive density of popu- 
lation and building coverage within these confines. The first step away from high 
density in the postwar program was the arrangement of buildings about the perimeter 
of the usual city block with building coverage reduced within the center of the 
block. This "hollow square" form enclosed recreation and service areas, the build- 
ings being mainly apartments of three and four stories in height. Many large- 
scale developments were placed upon tracts of vacant land. Here freedom from the 
subdivision of the gridiron system led to more informal planning and the "row house" 
was adopted where density was not a prerequisite. Main traffic streets were confined 
to the periphery of the projects, and the internal residential roads were bordered by 
parallel rows of dwellings. Apartments of three and four stories were also included 
along the marginal areas of the site. 

Research in planning techniques soon led to a rational consideration of orientation. 
Sunlight in every room was a rule, and the orientation of all buildings to provide 
east and west exposure became mandatory. The preferable exposure was west light 
for living rooms and east light for bedrooms. The attention devoted to the proper 




PAPPELHOF, Chemnitz, 1929 



This project of 521 dwellings in 
three-story apartment buildings 
illustrates a well-organized allo- 
cation of land uses. Uniform 
orientation is provided all dwell- 
ings, and the buildings are 
placed perpendicular to the 
boundary streets. Access to the 
park, the gardens, and the play- 
ground is convenient from most 
of the dwellings. Six stores are 
provided along the transverse 
service road. 



A Park 

B Allotment Gardens 

C Children's Playground 



NIDDA VALLEY, Frankfurt-am-Main 

When the post-World War I housing program was begun in Germany, Ernst May was the architect-planner 
engaged to direct the program in Frankfurt-am-Main. Because of the shortage of dwellings the clearance of 
slums within the central city was necessarily postponed until an adequate supply was available. May planned 
a series of satellite housing developments about the periphery of the city, and the Nidda Valley district is an 
illustration. Ample open space was retained about the housing areas which were planned in a manner similar 
to Romerstadt and Praunheim located in the Nidda Valley. 




A Romerstadt 
B Praunheim 



HH Developed Building Areas 
EgyggH Planned Building Areas 
BBSS Open Space 

MSB Allotment Gardens 
===== Roads 



DAMMERSTOCK, Karlsruhe 
1929 




Architect 
Otto Haesler 
Riphahn & Grod 
Walter Gropius 
Frans Rockle 
Wilhelm Lochstampfer 






SECTION 



Unit 

A, M, N 

B 

C, D, F 

E, R 

G 



Architect 
Fritz Rossler 
Hans Rostiger 

Alfred Fischer 
and Walter Merz 

Alfred Fischer 



Unit 

H 

J 

K, L 




This project, 750 dwelling units, demonstrates the rigid formula for site planning that emerged in the German 
program : 

1. Uniform orientation for all dwellings. 

2. Elimination of traffic between buildings. 

3. Open space in proportion to building height. 

All dwellings were two rooms in depth and the alignment of all buildings in the north-south direction 
admitted sunlight in every room of every dwelling. Buildings were placed perpendicular to the streets, and a 
maximum number of the dwellings thereby faced upon free open space on both sides of the buildings. Streets 
were reduced to a minimum and treated as service lanes. As building heights increased, the angle between the 
roof line of one row and the ground line of the next remained constant, as seen in the section. 

The project was planned under the direction of Walter Gropius, but a number of architects were engaged 
in the design and a wide variety of dwellings resulted. In most of these the relation of dwellings to exterior 
space was the same. Living areas faced upon private gardens opposite the entrance side. Apartments were 
confined to one row of three-story and one row of four-story buildings located at the east side of the site; 
the rest of the units were two-story row houses. 

Utility services heat and launo!ry were contained in the individual row houses, and a central heating 
plant and laundry (P&L) was provided for the apartments. As in most of the German developments, the small 
ownership of automobiles is reflected in the absence of parking space for vehicles. 




S L 




L S 



35-9 








2*3 



Zl* 



C L 






18-fc" 



5l 



c c 




PT L 



M 
K 



D 



1 



c c 



cT<K 




1-2 



TIIBIIIT 



E 



H 



172 




2-1 



lw 




1-2 

DWELLING UNITS 




W 



i' 



ST. I ST. 



35-6' 



JM 
2 



e 



S1EMENSTADT, Berlin 
1929-31 




Siemenstadt, developed in a suburb of Berlin, comprises three- and four- 
story apartment buildings built by several housing companies. It shows the 
tendency to arrange building rows in a north-south alignment to provide 
uniform orientation for all dwellings, and the elimination of streets between 
buildings to avoid traffic interference. A large school, churches, and shops 
(S), a central heating plant and laundry (P&L) are provided. 

The project was designed by a number of architects and includes a variety 
of dwelling plans, but all have been planned with similar consideration for 
orientation of the rooms. Unit J is adaptable to different room arrangements, and Unit K, being situated in 
a building running east and west, places all living and sleeping rooms with south exposure. 



Group Architect Unit 

I Hans Scharoun A, B, C 

II Walter Gropius D, E, F 

III Hugo Haring G 
IV, V Fred Forbat 

VI Otto Banning 

VII Hans Hertlein 



H, J 
K 







P 








EBR fJFT HFI 







SPANDAU-HASELHORST, Berlin 
1930-32 




This project represents the final development in the technique of site planning. Uniform orientation is obtained 
for substantially all dwellings. Traffic is confined to streets laid perpendicular to the building rows, and space 
between buildings is completely free. A school, cinema, and shops (S) are incorporated. It will be observed 
that the dwellings are generally small units, conforming to the tendency to meet the growing need for housing 
of the increasing number of small families. 





Architect Group 

Fred Forbat I 

Alfred Gelhorn II 

Bohne (not built) III 

Banning (not built) IV 

Alexander Klein (not built) V 

Mebes & Emmerich VI & VII 

Jurgensen (not built) VIII 







M2 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

orientation for all dwellings at this time is reminiscent of the fifth century B.C. in 
Greece. 

The process was like a modern planning hygiene. The final step in this rationaliza- 
tion was directed to the relation of the buildings to the streets. Buildings located in 
parallel lines along each side of a street did not provide equal privacy for living 
areas nor quiet for sleeping rooms. The new site planning produced uniform orienta- 
tion for all dwellings but did not give them uniform exposure upon the open spaces 
surrounding the buildings. The next step in planning technique was the placement 
of all buildings at right angles to the streets. The space between buildings was thereby 
free of vehicular traffic, although the walks were designed to permit access for small 
trucks to facilitate movement of goods and service. This arrangement provided privacy 
for all living units, safety for play and recreation areas, and uniform orientation for 
all dwellings. 

Strict adherence to this planning theme produced a rigid uniformity that increased 
during the late twenties, but it served to overcome some of the traditional inhibitions 
of the gridiron street system. These principles of planning were recognized as guides 
to challenge the designer, and some projects developed in 1931 and 1932 demonstrated 
some liberation from the previous regimentation. A more plastic and flexible treatment 
was emerging, but progress was interrupted by the political domination of Nazism. 

Recreation space for children and adults, shops, meeting rooms for common use, 
and kindergartens were provided in the housing developments. Home laundry was 
customarily performed by the housewife. In early projects laundry facilities were 
placed upon the roof of two-story buildings, one-half being roofed and one-half open 
drying space. This practice carried over to apartment buildings until the adoption 
of central heating systems encouraged central laundries or "washeries" in conjunction 
with them. Private gardens were provided to the extent that space permitted but were 
usually confined to the single-family row houses. Some subsistence plots were included 
in a few of the large developments. 

Probably the most outstanding example of integrated planning occurred in Frank- 
furt-am-Main. Ernst May, the architect-in-charge, and his associates undertook a 
comprehensive plan for the entire city in preparation for the housing program. May 
subscribed to the principle of satellite communities about the periphery of the city. 
The housing developments were surrounded by permanent open spaces but were 
planned as part of the city expansion rather than detached and self-contained garden 
cities. 

The best and most enlightened professional talent was brought into play in the 
program. Planning techniques were subjected to a complete revaluation. While this 
was a natural result of critical material shortages and high building costs, it encour- 
aged the evolution of planning methods which had a profound effect not only upon 
housing alone but on urban planning and architecture. Stirred by the necessity to 
reach basic solutions of social and economic problems, there came a renascence 
of architectural and planning thought. It can be said that a new concept of the urban 



THE LIVING ENVIRONMENT 113 

environment emerged. A new sense of freedom was expressed. It had not yet reached 
maturity when it was halted by the insidious spread of Nazism and suppression. 

Holland. At the turn of the century, the Act of 1901 in Holland required that every 
city with a population of 10,000 or more prepare a comprehensive town plan, in 
which new areas for housing were to be allocated. Housing standards were to be 
established by the local authorities who were charged with responsibility to ascertain 
compliance with them, exercising the power of condemnation where necessary. The 
local authorities were also empowered to build low-cost housing. Government funds 
were made available to public utility societies at low interest rates and limited 
dividends. 

During and following World War I these powers were extended and the housing 
program was accelerated. In the ten years after the war some 500,000 dwellings 
were built in Holland. Because careful attention was directed throughout the program 
to meet the needs of the various income levels, it was possible to confine the "public" 
housing primarily to the problem of direct slum clearance. 

Russia. Since the revolution of 1917 planning and housing in Russia have been 
treated with vigor. The contrast between Imperial Russia and the Soviet Union is 
apparent. Vast plans for industrial development were made and many were carried 
out. New cities were built and portions of old cities rebuilt. 

There appears to be a distinction, however, between the tremendous activity and 
the standards of planning adopted by the Soviets. The latter does not measure up to 
expectations suggested by the former. A city plan like that proposed for Stalingrad, 
a linear city, suggests hopeful prospects for the reorganization of the urban pattern. 
The executed housing developments, on the other hand, are extensive, but the standards, 
the small apartments in multistoried buildings, leave much to be desired and offer 
little to warrant particular attention. 

The form of government in the Soviet Union and the economic structure are so 
different from governments in the western world that comparisons are ineffective. The 
political processes occupy such an integral part of urban development that experi- 
ence and accomplishments in planning in the Soviet Union are not subject to satis- 
factory appraisal. 

Italy. As early as 1865 in Italy powers were vested in public authorities to expro- 
priate land for streets and roads. The severe cholera epidemic in Naples in 1885 
forced these powers to be extended to control insanitary dwellings. In 1919 the same 
powers were extended throughout the country. This Act, being directed at the clear- 
ance of slums, permitted local authorities to transfer land acquired by condemnation 
to other appropriate uses such as parks. In 1928 cities were required to prepare plans 
for their extension and rehabilitation. 

With the advent of Fascism the state undertook aggressive steps in city rebuilding. 
Every effort was directed to the emulation of ancient Roman glory. Extensive clear- 
ance was undertaken in the central areas of Rome, and open spaces were preserved 
to enhance the ancient monuments. 



I 14 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

Families displaced by these clearance projects were encouraged to move to the 
outskirts. The government developed large tracts of residential suburbs on the city 
periphery. Migration to the city was offset by reclamation of the Pontine marshes 
for agricultural enterprise and the establishment of decentralized administrative and 
market centers surrounded by farm groups. To eliminate the substandard shacks on 
the edge of the city, loans and grants were available to owners for rebuilding. A law 
of 1908, which provided loans to public utility societies, was revived, and the Instituti 
per le Casa Popolari were accorded low-interest loans and tax exemption for twenty- 
five years for "limited-dividend" housing for the working classes. 

Austria. Austria emerged from the Empire period and World War I financially 
bankrupt. Inflation had reduced to a minimum the capacity of private capital to pro- 
duce housing. Municipal government was forced to take the major role and Vienna 
undertook an energetic program. Public funds were not available, and it was neces- 
sary to obtain them by a tax on rents. This was inaugurated in 1923 and launched 
an active program, approximately a quarter of the revenues from taxes being devoted 
to housing in 1928. 

Switzerland. Switzerland had a housing shortage following World War I, and 
local governments rendered financial assistance to co-operative organizations as 
encouragement to produce an adequate supply. However the situation in Switzer- 
land did not present as serious a problem as most countries because of stable policies 
of private finance that prevailed during most of its history. The advantages of demo- 
cratic capitalism had always been more evenly distributed in Switzerland, and the 
excesses suffered in many countries had been absent to a marked degree. The result 
was that this little country had not sunk to such low depths that violent action was 
required to restore balance. 




30 40 SO 




NEUBUHL, Zurich 



Architects Artaria and Schmidt* 
Hubacher and Steiger, M. E. Hae- 
feli, W. M. Moser, Alfred Roth. 



This development of about 200 dwellings was built in 1930 and 
contains most of the basic planning elements of contemporary 
site organization. Most of the dwellings are two-story group 
houses. Uniform orientation is applied throughout the project, 
but it will be observed that the south exposure is favored 
rather than east and west as in most German projects. Living 
rooms of all dwellings are located opposite the entrance and 
face directly upon a private garden with southern exposure. 
The buildings are placed at right angles to the streets, and 
no dwelling faces upon them. 

Garages are located at three points (P-l, P-32, and 0-3). 
Shops and a kindergarten are provided in unit P-l. 

Designed by a group of young architects, the architectural 
quality of this relatively small development has a refreshing 
clarity not frequently apparent in low-cost housing. 





CHAPTER 8 



TRANSITION 



The Speculative Instinct. The development of real estate in the United States 
has not been distinguished for its attention to the amenities of a living environment. 
Speculation was the moving spirit as the frontiers widened and pushed forward. This 
was not a singular characteristic reserved to enterprising Americans alone. It 
rather points a difference between the opportunities open to the people of this land 
and those of countries elsewhere. It reflects the desires that caused the people to seek 
this land. Freedom from oppression and tyranny implied certain rights, and among 
them was the right for a man to have a piece of land upon which to build a home for 
his family. The search for that right was itself something of a speculation and abuse of 
the privilege was not a newly cultivated characteristic of mankind. 

During the colonial period it was customary to obtain grants of land from the 
mother country, and it was considered a just reward due the leaders of colonization. 
The subdivision and sale of the land so acquired were common practice. However, 
it was not always a lucrative one, and some of the heaviest dealers in land met with 
financial failure. Some of the large land-estates were preserved through the English 
system of long-term leases rather than sale. 

Speculation in land offered strong temptation in the latter half of the nineteenth 
century. Whole towns were used as a speculative medium, and they sprung up almost 
at random along the railroads that stretched across the land. Some of these towns 
have become cities, many have vanished, and others remain as ghosts of the specu- 
lative orgy in gold and silver. 

Land Subdivision. The promoter entered upon the stage of this flourishing enter- 
prise. He was a super-salesman with highly cultivated powers of persuasion. For him 
the land was a commodity for sale or trade. He was not a developer, he was a dealer. 
Success depended upon the rate at which this commodity changed hands. With a little 
cash and much credit, he would option a piece of land, mark it off in "lots," and 
place them upon the auction block. In most cases the purchasers of these lots were 
themselves engaged in a similar, though somewhat milder, form of speculation. 

116 



TRANSITION 117 

Hope ran high as these "deals" were transacted. There were occasions, however, 
when the turnover was not as rapid as the promoter had anticipated. He then unwit- 
tingly became a "developer." To stimulate response to the opportunities he was offer- 
ing the public, he found it helpful to "improve" the property. The term "improve- 
ment" was at first a rather exaggerated description since it implied hardly more than 
scraping the earth's surface and calling the scar a road with a romantic name. The 
promoter sometimes embellished his subdivision with a fancy real estate office. Later 
it became more customary to install a few utilities and build a house or two as an 
inducement to the homeseeker to buy in an "established" neighborhood. 

The above description may appear as a caricature, but there are those who still 
remember the heydays of speculation it depicts. Exploitation and promotion were 
not always accompanied by the most reliable business tactics, but the growing necessity 
to improve the property exerted a salutary influence upon the subdivision of land. It 
was necessary to apply more serious consideration to the soundness of a venture that 
required this degree of financial investment, and it led to the practice of subdivision 
control exercised by most cities today. 

The Suburban Community. Although the history of speculation in land has not 
been of the most savory variety, there were those who chose this medium as an instru- 
ment for the improvement of land development. This choice was not motivated by 
the high purpose of the Garden City movement in England, for instance, nor was it 
prompted by deep concern for the nature of the city or its social and economic welfare. 
It was rather the natural result of competitive necessity prodded, no doubt, by that 
satisfaction of the creative impulse which achievement invariably delivers. There 
were accomplishments, and they altered the future prospects for our cities in a manner 
hardly suggested by the subdivision practices employed then and, still too frequently, 
now. 

With the dawn of the twentieth century high land costs squeezed the single-family 
dwelling farther and farther to the outskirts. The swelling city forced these outskirts 
to such distances that community facilities which one time served the urban population 
were no longer readily accessible. The development of extensive facilities in the 
suburbs gave to them the character of satellite communities. Decentralization was in 
progress. 

Only the surveyor had been associated in the layout of subdivisions. With the 
development of independent residential communities, however, the planner became 
a more active participant. One of the earliest large-scale residential subdivisions was 
a 1,600-acre tract to be known as Riverside, near Chicago. It was designed by Fred- 
erick Law Olmsted and Calvert Vaux in 1869. Garden City, Long Island, was another 
such development and it has since become substantially a self-contained community. 

The gridiron street system offered the subdivider the most convenient pattern for 
surveying and recording deeds. It was typical of real estate development but offered 
little in return as a living environment. The exceptions are, therefore, the more note- 
worthy for the progress in planning they demonstrated. 




RIVER OAKS, Houston, Texas 
A Shopping Centers 

Begun in 1923, River Oaks con- 
tains an area of 1,000 acres sub- 
divided in lots ranging from 65 
feet in width to 14 acres in size. 
Designed as a district of fine 
homes, the development has its 
full complement of shopping and 
residential facilities. 



PALOS VERDES ESTATE^ 
California 



Single-family 
Apartments 
Business 
Parks 



A Elementary School 

B Junior High School 

C Senior High School 

D Golf Course 



Begun at ahout the same time as River Oaks, 
Palos Verdes was designed hy the Olmsteds 
and C. H. Cheney. Developed on 3,000 acres 
of rolling countryside, the residential lots 
range from one-half acre to 30 acres in size. 
25% of the land was devoted to roads and 
parkways, 25% to community facilities, in- 
cluding schools, churches, parks, libraries, 
etc., and 50% in residential lots. 



NASSAU SHORES, Long Island 

Nassau Shores was started in about 1926 on 
approximately 500 acres and designed for full 
advantage of the waterfront location. Subdivided 
in lots 20 x 100 feet it was customary to require 
two lots for each dwelling. 




TRANSITION 119 

Roland Park, in Baltimore, was a subdivision begun in 1891. It was distinguished 
for singularly high standards of physical development. It was designed for fine resi- 
dences, but there were few suburbs not so intended. Another pioneer development 
was Forest Hills, Long Island. It was one of the earliest planned residential suburbs, 
started in 1913, and the development company undertook the construction of many 
of the homes, apartments, and shopping facilities. 

After World War I a number of well-planned communities were initiated. Marie- 
mont, Ohio, designed by John Nolen in 1921, became a satellite of Cincinnati. It 
was devoted primarily to single-family homes with a density of six or seven units per 
acre, although apartments were included in connection with the principal shopping 
center. 

About this time two other distinguished developments were begun in widely dif- 
ferent sections of the country. River Oaks in Houston, Texas, occupies an area of 
1,000 acres and was planned with a full complement of community facilities includ- 
ing a golf course and market center. In 1923 the Palos Verdes Estates was planned 
on a dramatic site overlooking the Pacific Ocean south of Los Angeles. The site cov- 
ered 3,000 acres, and residential lots ranged in size from one-half acre to 30 acres. 
About one-quarter of the total area was allocated to schools, parks, churches, libraries, 
shopping, and recreation. A few apartment areas were proposed about the various 
shopping centers, but one-half the area was given over to residences restricted to single- 
family dwellings. The remainder was in roads and landscaped parkways. 

Numbered among other notable subdivisions in this country are Shaker Heights in 
Cleveland, the Country Club District in Kansas City, St. Francis Woods in San Fran- 
cisco, Nassau Shores, Long Island, and Westwood Village in Los Angeles. Each of 
these developments marks a high level of planning a living environment. There was 
no serious intention on the part of subdividers to cope with adequate housing for 
families of low income in these communities. They were intended for the upper income 
group and were promoted accordingly. 

The contrast between these developments and the average subdivision is the more 
apparent when we observe the rank and file of urban expansion. It was not planned ; 
it simply oozed over the edges of the growing metropolis. A minimum of improve- 
ments in streets, walks, sewers, water, electricity, and gas distribution was installed. 
The unaware purchaser was left to foot the bill at some later date or shift the burden 
to the urban taxpayer. 

Local governments gradually awoke to the havoc being wrought in the suburbs, 
and legislation was enacted to require subdividers to make certain improvements as a 
condition to approval of the development. These early regulations were feeble, but 
they were an acknowledgment that some measure of control was necessary to protect 
the city for the people who live in it. 

The Mobile Population. Suburban expansion was encouraged by the growing 
urban population but it did not drain off the excess population from the center of 
cities. People responded to their natural desire to live near their work, and employ- 




QUEENS, New York City 



Fairchild Aerial Surveys, Inc. 



The typical living environment of the early twentieth century city. The type of subdivision which Sir Raymond 
Unwin and Henry Wright sought to improve in their searching studies of urban planning and housing. 



TRANSITION 121 

ment opportunities were concentrated in the city center. Then the nature of these oppor- 
tunities changed from the pre-f actory system. Stable industrial employment was uncer- 
tain. With expanding commercial enterprise the tendency to shift from job to job 
extended to movement from city to city. Mobility of the family offered advantages 
over fixed tenure. 

The urban population thus became transient in character. Freedom to move was 
not desirable but it was necessary. The rental apartment satisfied this requirement 
and it became popular. The familiar tenement of the nineteenth century remained 
for the poor, but the multi-family building was no longer confined to the low-income 
family. It achieved a new dignity as a form of urban living. Park Avenue, the Gold 
Coast, and Nob Hill were as popular among the well-to-do as the Lower East Side for 
the immigrant family. 

Oddly enough, the standards of planning did not change with the range of income 
groups who found the apartment popular. Lots of 40 and 50 feet in width were more 
common than the 25-foot lot of the nineteenth century and the "dumbbell" tenement 
of New York was outlawed, but the internal planning, the size and number of rooms 
in "high-class" apartments made up for much of the additional lot area. There was 
little difference between the open space about the building, whether for the "swank 5 * 
trade, the "efficiency-apartment" for the middle-income white collar clerk, or the 
low-income industrial worker. Narrow interior courts and side yards and little or 
no set-backs at front or rear prevailed as standard practice. 

The city was having growing pains. The industrial economy had thrown out of 
gear all previous concepts of what a city should be. The traditional dwelling for 
the average American family was the single-family house. It had fulfilled the desires 
and living habits since early colonial times. Then the village of homes was engulfed! 
by the industrial metropolis. Instead of a place to live, the city became a place to 
make a living. The family no longer dwelt in its home; it hired apartment space for 
temporary occupancy. The speculative opportunities for profit in this form of building 
enterprise were obvious, and full advantage was taken of them, but the apartment as, 
a form of investment for capital was not yet fully realized. Adjustment to the new- 
kind of city was, and still is, slow. But there were signs of improvement. 

World War I. During World War I it fell to the lot of the Federal government 
in the United States to assume responsibility for housing of workers in war industries. 
Two agencies were created to implement this program: The Housing Division of the 
Emergency Fleet Corporation, and the United States Housing Corporation. The Emer- 
gency Fleet Corporation, through loans to shipbuilding companies, completed some 
9,000 family dwellings and 7,500 single-person accommodations. The United States, 
Housing Corporation had planned some 25,000 units in 60 projects, but completed 
about 6,000 family units in 27 projects, none of which were ready before the war came 
to an end. 

Services of the most talented professional men in architecture and planning were 
enlisted for the program. Among the large-scale projects were Yorkship Village at 



CRANE TRACT 
HOUSING PROJECT AT 

BRIDGEPORT- CONNECTICUT- 




c JB^H C|B|K K|B|C f^fel c 




SEASIDE, Bridgeport, Connecticut 

One of the World War I housing developments 
undertaken by the Federal Government, it included 
flats and single family residences at a density of 
about seventeen dwellings per acre and demonstrated 
the advantage of large-scale planning. 



Ji| METROPOLITAN PROJECT, New York City 
Andrew J. Thomas, Architect 

One of the earliest large-scale apartment projects in this country. 
The strong habit of the single lot is revealed in the series of 
individual buildings repeated upon the large site. 



TRANSITION 123 

Camden, New Jersey, Alantic Heights in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, Buchman in 
Chester, Pennsylvania, Union Gardens at Wilmington, Delaware, and a number of 
developments at Bridgeport, Connecticut. It was a statutory requirement that proj- 
ects built by these war agencies be sold immediately upon termination of the war. 
To implement this provision of the law the projects followed the general pattern of 
subdivision practice. Superblocks and common open spaces for recreation were absent, 
but the studied layout of residential streets and design of shopping centers offered a 
decided contrast with the practices to which most people had grown accustomed in 
their living environment. A distinct characteristic of the planning of all dwellings was 
a unit only two rooms in depth in contrast with the narrow, deep building typical of 
the usual restricted lot in the ordinary urban subdivision. The planning of these 
projects exerted a strong influence in the decade following the war. 

The Garden Apartment. Mr. Andrew J. Thomas, an architect who participated 
in the war program, was active in the postwar period. One of the early projects 
designed by him was a large-scale development built by the Metropolitan Life Insur- 
ance Company in Long Island City. In this project Mr. Thomas applied the simple 
principle of "two-room" deep dwelling units, with stairways serving two dwellings 
per floor. The units were grouped in a series of U-shaped buildings with a ground cov- 
erage of about 50 per cent of the lot area. The open courts faced the garden. It was a 
vast improvement over the small, enclosed light courts of the single lot but retained 
the characteristic narrow space between buildings. 

Thomas carried this simple planning technique further in the development of build- 
ings with various forms, using a basic unit of two and three dwelling units per stair. 
The essential contrast with previous planning was the relation of the buildings to the 
streets. Planning on the single narrow lot under the Tenement House Act of 1901 and 
before caused the building to be placed at right angles to the street a narrow front 
and long depth. This forced all but the dwellings on the street front to face into a 
small courtyard, light-well, or narrow rear yard. With removal of the restrictions 
imposed by the narrow lot, large-scale planning permitted the arrangement of build- 
ings with a broad front and shallow depth. The interior of the lot was opened up with 
improved exposure of all dwelling units toward the street and expanded interior court. 
This planning was henceforth known as the "garden apartment." 

Henry Wright. In 1926 the City Housing Corporation built Sunnyside Gardens, 
a large project planned by Henry Wright and Clarence Stein, on a 10-block site in 
Long Island. The architects applied the "garden apartment" in a simple perimeter 
form surrounding the interior garden. They also introduced the row, or group, house 
and the two-story flat one dwelling above another with separate private entrances. 
The ground coverage was less than 30 per cent of the lot area. 

Studies by Henry Wright about this time demonstrated the importance of compara- 
tive analysis in planning. He emphasized the necessity for a complete analysis of the 
costs that enter into housing. The planner and architect had been prone to detach their 
functions from that of management. Wright made clear that these functions could not 



Monroe Court Apartments 



Unit Plans c I 



c IB K K B c 




B] c 



ilill 






Interior Garden Court 

STREET 




Unit A 
FLAT 



Unit B 
FLAT 



Unit C 
ROW HOUSE 



Unit D 
FLAT 



SUNNYSIDE, Long Island 

An early large-scale development within the framework of typical city blocks. This project, planned by Henry 
Wright and Clarence Stein, provided further evidence of the advantages of low density and large-scale planning. 



TRANSITION 125 

be isolated and produce satisfactory housing; that improvement could not be expected 
unless plan-analysis was merged with experience in the management and maintenance 
of housing. 

During this period much speculative building was producing the dreary, monoto- 
nous rows of cheap and poorly planned single-family and flat buildings which still 
curse so many of our cities. Henry Wright insisted upon the advantages of the group 
house, used at Sunnyside, to improve the planning of both dwellings and the space 
about them. The row, or group, house was not a revolutionary dwelling type. It was 
prevalent in all eastern cities. Baltimore and Philadelphia are famous for their row 
houses with clean, stone entrance stoops. But Wright demonstrated the principle of 
planning dwellings two rooms in depth rather than the tandem arrangement of rooms 
to which the usual row house had degenerated. He showed the improvement in land 
planning with the group house in comparison with detached units and their wasteful 
and useless side yards. Wright contributed much to the enlightenment that emerged 
in the 1920 decade and early thirties. 

Radburn. Inspired by the "garden city" idea, the City Housing Corporation 
acquired a vacant site in New Jersey within commuting distance of New York City. 
On this site Henry Wright and Clarence Stein planned the community of Radburn. 
This plan introduced the "super-block." In these blocks, ranging from 30 to 50 acres 
in size, through traffic was eliminated. Traffic streets surrounded rather than traversed 
the areas. Within them, single-family dwellings were grouped about cul-de-sac roads. 

The houses were oriented in reverse of the conventional placement on the lot. 
Kitchens and garages faced the road, and living rooms turned toward the garden. 
Pathways provided uninterrupted pedestrian access to a continuous park strip, leading 
to large, common open spaces within the center of the super-block. Underpasses sep- 
arated pedestrian walks from traffic roadways. The community earned the name of 
"The Town for the Motor Age." 

Radburn allocated space for industry, shopping, and apartments, but permanent 
green space surrounding the town, typical of the English garden cities, was not in- 
corporated. The development is not yet complete, but the residential character has been 
a prototype of sound community planning ever since. 

Housing' An Investment. Subsidy was a means to encourage the colonial 
expansion of this country, push railroads across the land, and smooth out the peaks 
and valleys of economic inequalities. It was used whenever necessity dictated. In 
1926 it was introduced to housing with passage of the New York Housing Law which 
established the State Board of Housing. This Act granted the privilege of tax exemp- 
tion for a twenty-year period to limited-dividend companies engaged in housing within 
reach of the lower middle-class. The statutory ceiling on rents was $12.50 per room 
per month in the borough of Manhattan and $11.00 per room elsewhere. Investment 
in apartment development was encouraged by this legislation. 

Fourteen projects, providing a total of nearly 6,000 dwellings, were undertaken 
in this program. The best known were three co-operative developments of the Amalga- 



40 FEET 



40 FEET 



n 



i , , I 



u 



II 
II 



12 HOUSES PER ACRE 



20 HOUSES PER ACRE 



DEVELOPMENT OF 20 ACRES 



AVERAGE FRONTAGE PER HOUSE 21ft. 
Cost of raw land per acre $1,000 

Cost of 40 ft. roads per yd. $51.25 

Cost of 30 ft. roads per yd. $41.25 




NUMBER OF HOUSES 
Gross area 
Area of roads 
Net area 

AVERAGE SIZE OF PLOT 
Road frontage: 

40 ft. road 

34 ft. road 



240 400 

20 acres 2O acres 

2.46 acres 4.76 acres 

17.64 acres 15.24 acres 

353 sq. yds. 184 sq. yds. 



3,732 ft. 
2,162 ft. 



AVERAGE ROAD FRONTAGE PER 

HOUSE 24.54ft. 

Total cost of land $20,OOO 

Total cost of roads $46,740 

Ave. cost of land per house 983 

Ave. cost of roads per house $195 

Ave. cost of roads and land per house $278 
Cost per sq. yd. of plot $.79 

GROUND RENT PER PLOT PER 

WEEK, AT 6% $.32 



10,370ft. 



25.9 ft. 

920,000 

988,575 

950 

9221 

9271 

91.47 

9-31 



(From Modern Housing, by Catherine Bauer) 
"NOTHING GAINED FROM OVERCROWDING" 




St. Louis 



Chicago 



TYPICAL FLAT PLANS DURING THE 

FIRST QUARTER OF THE 

TWENTIETH CENTURY 



Early in the century Raymond Unwin 
wrote his treatise Nothing Gained from 
Overcrowding, in which he compared 
the typical subdivision street system with 
a more open development using the 
cul-de-sac street. In the United States, 
real estate development was taking the 
form shown in the photograph a mo- 
notonous row of houses along street after 
street and the single lot persisted with 
the building of individual "flat" build- 
ings in the Middle-Western cities. These 
two-story buildings, wilh one apartment 
above the other and with most rooms 
facing a narrow side yard between the 
buildings, were reminiscent of the 
"dumbbell" tenements of New York. 



JAMAICA, Long Island 




The Architectural Forum 



I320 1 



o 

<M 
<*) 



I320 1 



200 



60 



200 



200 



200 



a oo 



980 



200 



60 



720 



/PARK ' 



00 



8 



Above is a comparative study by Henry Wright to demonstrate the improvement which a modification in the 
typical gridiron street and block layout might provide. The sketch on the left is the usual street plan, that 
on the right the proposed replanning. With but slight loss of street frontage for subdivision of residential 
lots (the usual plan has 11,800 lineal feet of streets while the modified plan has 10,720 lineal feet), an interior 
park is gained and through traffic on all interior streets is eliminated. 

Wright developed his "Case for the Row House" with studies like the one illustrated below. In this study 
the typical block layout with two-story flat buildings facing the street is compared with a revised plan using 
continuous rows of two-story flat units; the alley is eliminated, garage courts are consolidated at the end of 
each block, and a park space is gained in the center of the block accessible from all dwellings. Tn the typical 
plan some of the rooms in the dwellings face on the narrow side yards between buildings (lower sketch). 
The revised plan (upper sketch), however, eliminates these side yards resulting in an improved plan of the 
dwelling units, all of which face upon ample open space to the front and rear of the buildings. 



260 FEET 





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Second Floor 



First Floor 



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Second Floor 



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First Floor 



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B Apartment Groups 

C School 

D Park Space 




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STREET 



Clarence Stein and Henry Wright, 
Planners 



RADBURN, New Jersey 

The Radburn plan became synonymous with "the town of the motor age." In this plan the cul-de-sac (dead-end) 
residential streets became service roads rather than traffic ways, the house being reversed so that the living 
rooms face on the rear gardens with pedestrian paths leading to the continuous park space. 




TRANSITION 



129 



PROJECTS APPROVED BY THE NEW YORK STATE BOARD OF HOUSING* 



Project 


No. 
Apts. 


Bldg. 
Coverage 
(%) 


Density 
(families 
per acre) 


Height 
(stories) 


Academy Housing Corpora- 
tion 

Amalgamated Dwfi]lings, Inc. 


476 
232 

625 


43.9 
59.7 

50.2 


149 
166 

114 (av.) 


6 (elevator) 
6 (elevator) 

5 (walk-up) 
6 (elevator) 
6 (elevator) 


Amalgamated Housing Corp. 
First Group 1 
Second Group [ 
Third Group J 


Boulevard Gardens Housing 
Corp. 


958 


24.8 


83 


6 (elevator) 


Brooklyn Gardens Apts., Inc. 
Fourth Ave. Project 
Navy Yard Project 


165 
140 


52.5 
59 


181 
230 


5 (walk-up) 
5 (walk-up) 


Farband Housing Corp. 


129 


69.1 


172 


6 (elevator) 


Hillside Housing Corp. 


1,405 


34 


88 


4 and 6 (walk-up and 
elevator) 


Knickerbocker Village, Inc. 


1,585 


46 


317 


13 (elevator) 


Manhattan Housing Corp. 


44 


69.4 


184 


6 (elevator) 


Stanton Housing Corp. 


44 


68.8 


191 


6 (elevator) 


Stuyvesant Housing Corp. 


93 


72.4 


216 


6 (elevator) 


TOTAL 


5,896 









* Report of the State Board of Housing to the Secretary of State of the State of New York, 1937. 



mated Clothing Workers, providing 625 apartments. In addition to the Housing Board 
projects in New York City, other limited-dividend and semi-philanthropic develop- 
ments were undertaken. Phipps Houses, Inc., a veteran housing organization, built 344 
apartments in four- and six-story walk-up and elevator buildings near Sunnyside Gar- 
dens in New York. In 1930 John D. Rockefeller, Jr., built the Paul Laurence Dunbar 
apartments in Harlem, 513 apartments designed for acquisition of the dwellings by 
the tenants. About this time the Julius Rosenwald Foundation built the Michigan 
Boulevard Gardens, also for Negroes, on the south side of Chicago, and the Marshall 
Field Estate built Marshall Field Apartments on the near north side of Chicago. Chat- 
ham Village in Pittsburgh, built by the Buhl Foundation, was a two-story group house 
development planned by Henry Wright. 

These projects did not produce speculative profits but were sound investments that 
served a high social purpose. This purpose is not nourished by irresponsible interests 



PHIPPS HOUSES, New York City 
Clarence Stein. Architect 



Unit Plans 




c IB u 





r 



,[.[, [.L i.i j.n K|. fiU 



C L 



LlC 



A limited-dividend development of 344 apartments in 
four-story walk-up and six-story elevator buildings. The 
building coverage is 43 per cent of the land area, with 
a density of about 100 dwellings per acre. This is one 
of the early large-scale private projects built during 
the late twenties. 



LJ ilj I F^- I I U_J L-J 

r^T^rV.! r.Kf.i ^tPE^i 

i_M .1 I. ! J.l-i 




Site Plan 





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DLi LO 



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r pti LJLJ pru urn 

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Lfa'slL Kf4 L c cfa" 




DUNBAR APARTMENTS 




Site Plan 

MARSHALL FIELD GARDEN 
APARTMENTS, Chicago 

Andrew J. Thomas, Architect 

These projects of four- and five-story apart- 
ment developments during the 1920 period 
illustrate the transition in planning from 
the concept of separate buildings on single 
lots of the typical subdivision (Metropoli- 
tan, Dunbar, Marshall Field), to continuous 
indented rows of buildings arranged about 
the periphery of a large site (Phipps, Michi- 
gan Boulevard Gardens, Amalgamated). 
This trend from smaller building units to 
larger and longer buildings was character- 
istic of large scale planning during this 
period, but we will observe in later devel- 
opments that, as familiarity with large scale 
planning progressed, the trend is reversed 
by a more frequent use of smaller building 
units. The essential difference represented 
by this change was the tendency to group 
possible rather than enclose the open space 




Unit Plans 



smaller buildings within the open space which large sites made 
with continuous buildings. Freedom from the single small lot and 
the restrictive pattern of the usual gridiron street 
system made it unnecessary to protect the interior 
garden space from the surrounding streets and per- 
mitted greater latitude in planning the buildings 
within the open space. 



MICHIGAN BOULEVARD GARDENS, Chicago 
K/aber & Grunsfeld, Architects 

Site Plan- 



I I /I Vs // l\ M-l 




132 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

concerned with quick turn-over of capital and unlimited profits, nor does it thrive on 
exploitation and speculation in land, buildings, and people. 

During this period good planning was demonstrated to be economical planning. 
Twenty-five years prior, the typical tenement covered 85 per cent of a narrow, deep 
lot. More than half the rooms either had no light or peered into dingy light-wells. Open 
space about the dwelling was either the paved traffic street or a shabby refuse-ridden 
rear yard. The energetic talents of such architects as Ernest Flagg, Grosvenor Atter- 
bury, Andrew Thomas, Henry Wright, Clarence Stein, and Frederick Ackerman served 
to bring a vast change in all this. Land coverage was reduced to 50 per cent or less, and 
space was planned to enhance the environment and provide room for recreation. Care- 
ful planning and better interior arrangement of rooms reduced waste space within 
buildings and eliminated unnecessary corridors and halls. Attention was given to ap- 
propriate size and use of rooms rather than the greatest number of people that could 
be loaded on a given site. 

The importance of the period we have been discussing is not the quality of planning 
as a standard to which we aspire today, but rather as a comparison with the unwhole- 
some planning it replaced and the processes which brought it about. Complete dis- 
regard for housing standards and the desire for profit regardless of the exploitation it 
entailed had produced high density, excessive land coverage, and decidedly bad hous- 
ing. The theory that these evils were essentially good business was exploded. Good 
planning was discovered to be an effective instrument to compete with bad planning. 
When laws were enacted to curb irresponsible building of slums, the road was cleared 
for good planning with financial benefits as well as the restoration of social values. 

The period of activity during the twenties and early thirties did not solve our urban 
housing ills but it did provide a foundation upon which future progress could be con- 
tinued. Building companies became conscious of the advantages of investment in hous- 
ing. Large-scale planning opened the opportunity for arranging buildings on land so 
that all dwellings were well located on the site. As a permanent investment such factors 
were important. Good planning was becoming a good investment. Release from the 
long, narrow lot permitted greater efficiency in planning, lower land coverage, better 
dwelling units, more space for light, air, and recreation, and safer investment. Per- 
manent values were built in by good planning. 

Mr. Charles F. Lewis, Director of the Buhl Foundation which built and is managing 
Chatham Village in Pittsburgh, said in 1937: 

Capital is frankly challenged by this unusual opportunity for sound and productive use of its 
funds. 

Essentially this will be an investment and not a speculative use of capital. . . . 

No less has it been demonstrated by the so-called limited dividend companies, from Boston in 
1871 to Pittsburgh in 1934, that limited dividends pay. I refer you specifically to the remark- 
able success of the City and Suburban Homes Company of New York, founded in 1896 by Mr. 
R. Fulton Cutting and associates. After years of operation, in 1933 in the midst of the depression, 
this company could boast assets of nearly $10,000,000, a surplus of more than $1,380,000, and 
net earnings of from $263,000 to $445,000 per year through four depression years. Its average 



Unit Plans 




Site 
Plan 




DL! AMALGAMATED DWELLINGS, New York City 

This project, built in 1930 on plans by Springsteen 
and Goldhammer, was one of the first undertaken 
under the program of the State Board of Housing. It is one of three built by the Amalgamated Clothing 
Workers trade union as a co-operative enterprise. The buildings are six stories high with automatic elevators. 
The land cost was $5.61 per square foot. 



100 





FairchiJd Aerial Surveys, Inc. 



HILLSIDE HOMES, New York City 

This project of 1,405 apartments, de- 
signed by Clarence Stein, was approved 
by the New York State Board of Hous- 
ing and is one of the seven that received 
loans from the Housing Division of 
PWA. While the land cost was about 70 
cents per square foot, the land coverage 
is one of the lowest in the New York 
area about 32 per cent and the den- 
sity is about 88 families per acre. The 
typical city street plan is replaced by 
continuous garden courts surrounded by 
four-story walk-up and six-story elevator 
apartment buildings. Play areas for 
children are distributed in this open 
space and traffic is confined to the 
peripheral streets. 



CARL MACKLEY HOUSES, 
Philadelphia 



Kastner and Stonorov, Architects &, *'"? 




CASTOR AVE. 



GARAGE EXIT 




Built by the American Federation of 
Hosiery Workers for the members of 
that trade union, this project con- 
tains 284 apartments in three- and 
four-story buildings, with a density 
of about 50 families per acre. It was 
financed with an 85 per cent loan 
from the Housing Division of PWA. 



M STREET 



ENTRANCE TO GARAGE 
AT LOWER LEVEL 



Dallin Aerial Surveys 





CHATHAM VILLAGE, Pittsburgh 
Ingham and Boyd, Architects 

A limited-dividend project originally 
planned for 300 units within reach of 
the $2,200-3,600 per year income group. 
The first stage of development was 128 
dwellings. The density is about 12 fami- 
lies per acre in two-story group houses, 
demonstrating the theory of Henry 
Wright who espoused the cause of the 
group house on urban land which had 
not yet reached the high levels of many 
areas. This project was built as an 
investment by the Buhl Foundation. 



BUCKINGHAM, Virginia 

One of the earliest large-scale rental developments undertaken in the FHA 
program, Buckingham is located just outside Washington, B.C., for "white 
collar" workers in the nation's crowded capital. Designed by Henry Wright, 
Allan Kamstra, and Albert Lueders, it was planned for 2,000 units on a 100- 
acre site. The first stage (shown in detail) comprised 622 dwellings on 30 
acres. The land cost was 25 cents per square foot and permitted low density 
about 20 families per acre with a building coverage of about 20 per cent 
of the land area. Approximately 13% of the area is in streets. Dwellings 
are two-story group houses and flats. 





136 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

annual dividend rate, from 1899 to 1939, was 4.65 per cent. Or let us take six non-co-operative 
apartment projects built in New York City under the New York State Housing Board. All have been 
consistent dividend payers in good times and bad. Or let us take, in the city of Washington, the 
Washington Sanitary Improvement Company, which with assets of nearly $1,500,000 can boasl 
that from 1897 to 1923 it paid an annual dividend of 5 per cent, and from then on straight 
through the depression, of 6 per cent. Or the Washington Sanitary Housing Company which has 
paid 5 per cent per annum without interruption since 1927. While Chatham Village in Pittsburgh 
has not yet published earnings statements, those statements when released will give further evi- 
dence of the investment soundness of the large-scale housing enterprise on the limited-dividend 
basis. 1 

Every individual in the city has a home. Some may be rooms in a lodging-house o. 
a hotel, others fine houses on large estates. Some are slums. Whether the home is * 
hovel or a mansion, every person has one. Dwellings of the people occupy nearly three 
quarters of the urban area. The economic equation by which the people acquire anc 
maintain a place to live measures the social and physical health of a community. The 
economics of housing is the base upon which cities rest. It is the foundation on whicr 
the social superstructure is built. 

If we want to see the real city, we do not confine our view to the great skyscrapers, 
the shopping promenade, or the park and boulevard. To see the city, we look at the 
dwellings of the people. We see how people live, their streets of homes, the environment 
in which they raise their families, the children who will be the fellow-countrymen 
and neighbors of our children a generation hence. 

It is this view that gives us direction toward the city of the future. When we com- 
prehend this aspect of the city, we can guide more accurately the tools with which we 
shape the urban environment. 

1 Opportunities for Building Rental Properties. Conference on Local Residential Construction, Chamber of 
Commerce of U.S., Washington, D.C., November 17, 1937. 




CHAPTER 9 



ISSUES IN FOCUS 



The Great Depression. On the heels of the building boom during the prosperity 
decade of the twenties came the crash of 1929 and the decade of depression that fol- 
lowed. Financial credit dried up, building stopped abruptly, and unemployment 
brought widespread privation to millions of families. As the depression gained momen- 
tum, economic and social chaos followed in its wake. Marginal investments in stocks 
evaporated into thin air. The "water" that had been poured into building investments 
during the craze of the boom was drained off, and "ownership" changed hands in rapid 
succession as the level lowered. Homes on farms and in the cities were foreclosed at an 
alarming rate. Real estate foreclosures jumped from 68,100 in 1926 to 248,700 in 
1932. 

The complete state of despair made it imperative for the government to act. In an 
effort to stem the tide, President Hoover called his Conference of Home Building and 
Home Ownership in 1931. This conference revealed many of the problems that beset 
the nation and laid the groundwork for action which ensued in subsequent years. Some 
28 states enacted moratoria on mortgage foreclosures in 1931 and 1932. This device 
relieved the hysteria but only postponed the solution. The Emergency Relief and Con- 
struction Act of 1932 created the Reconstruction Finance Corporation. This agency was 
empowered to loan government funds to bolster the faltering economy. 

The tide of national collapse forced the government to assume increased responsibil- 
ity for the helpless economy, and, beginning in 1933, the Congress created a series of 
agencies in rapid succession. These acts brought into focus a fact that had been almost 
unwittingly overlooked: the people of the United States had no inventory of the national 
welfare, the assets and liabilities of a going concern dealing in democratic enterprise. 
The blessing of abundant natural resources, the accident of favorable geographic loca- 
tion, and the aggressive enterprise of a free people had brought fortune and a position 
of world leadership to this country. This achievement had blinded the people to the 
corollary of great industrial and financial empires the precipitation of social and 
economic hardships that filter into the lives of many in society. The Great Depression 
lifted the veil on this scene and disclosed the gap which had formed between fortune 

137 



138 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

and stability. It was apparent that the country must take stock of its resources in order 
to measure the future prospects for its enterprise, 

Inventory. The necessity for improvement in the physical condition of our cities 
had been recognized. The presence of slums and blight, and the sporadic attempts to 
correct the situation, attested to that. As had been fully demonstrated in the successful 
business enterprise of this country, however, a factual knowledge of current inventory 
on hand, the kind of stock it represents, and a study of the market to be supplied are 
essential to the conduct of democratic government as well as individual welfare. The 
government therefore undertook the Real Property Survey of 1934 as a comprehensive 
inventory of the supply and condition of housing in this country. It was learned that 
nearly one-third of the urban dwellings were in need of major repairs and lacked indoor 
bathing and toilet facilities. In the 64 cities surveyed 2.3 per cent of all dwellings were 
found to be unfit for human habitation, 15.6 per cent were in need of major structural 
repairs, and only 37.7 per cent were considered in good condition. Only 34 per cent of 
the dwellings had hot and cold running water, 8 per cent had no water supply in the 
dwelling, 17.1 per cent no private indoor toilet facility, and 25 per cent had no bathing 
facilities. The only fuel for cooking in one-third of all the dwellings was coal or wood. 

Unemployment and the depression had produced alarming economic hardships for 
millions; it was estimated that the annual income of 37 per cent of all urban families 
in 1934 was $800 or less. Further investigations, however, revealed even more signifi- 
cant facts about the economic status of the people. Studies by the Brookings Institution 
showed that a broad segment of American families had surprisingly low incomes before 
the depression had engulfed the nation. In 1929, 21 per cent of the families in cities 
had incomes of less than $1,000 a year, 21 per cent were between $1,000 and $1,500, 
and 17 per cent were between $1,500 and $2,000 per year. 1 

It was apparent that a major reason for the housing problem was a lack of sufficient 
income to pay the price of a decent home. The lowest rents were generally in the areas 
of substandard housing; it was estimated that rents of $20 per month or less were con- 
centrated in the substandard category, and more than 50 per cent of all rental dwellings 
rented for less than this amount. The large cities presented a more complex picture. 
In Cincinnati, for example, 41 per cent of the families were paying a rent of $28 per 
month for dwellings which had only a cold-water sink. 

The depths to which the national morale had sunk caused investigations into many of 
our economic ills. Studies were made of the costs of urban maintenance. These studies 
produced evidence of the economic burden that decaying sections of cities were heap- 
ing upon the taxpayer. 

The cost to maintain blighted districts and slums was many times the revenue the 
cities collected in taxes from these areas. A relatively small section of Cleveland con- 
taining 2.37 per cent of the population showed a net loss to the city of $1,750,000 in 
the year 1932; one square mile of blighted area in Chicago cost the city $3,200,000 

1 Americans Capacity to Consume, Maurice Leven, Harold G. Moulton, and Clark Warburton, The Brookings 
Institution, Washington, B.C., 1934. 



ISSUES IN FOCUS [39 

in services as compared to the tax levy of $1,191,352 and an actual tax collection of 
only $586,061. The low rent areas of Boston cost the city $92.30 per capita but paid 
the city only $13.30 per capita in taxes. The high rent areas paid into the city treasury 
$312.80 per capita but cost the city only $73.80 to maintain. In Indianapolis the 
blighted areas cost $27.29 per person while the maintenance of other areas cost but 
$4.00 per person. 

The wholesale foreclosure of mortgages on homes and stoppage of home-building 
made it imperative to examine the status of home-ownership. It was the general policy 
of financial institutions to loan about two-thirds of the construction cost or appraised 
value of homes. It was necessary for the prospective home-owner to invest the balance 
of one-third as his "equity." When costs were high during the boom of the twenties, 
the number of families who had managed to accumulate, in savings, this proportion of 
the dwelling cost was relatively small. Because the urge for home-ownership was 
strong, the device of the "second mortgage" came into use. This provided the prospec- 
tive owner with a source for supplementary financing and reduced the amount of 
equity needed. Lenders of second mortgages held only a secondary right in the prop- 
erty mortgaged and the length of such loans was usually short and interest charges 
high. 

This device expanded the number of home-owners, however. It appeared easier to 
make high monthly payments to finance a home than to accumulate the savings for the 
equity required for a first mortgage only. As long as incomes remained stable the home- 
owner paid his monthly installment with the knowledge that he would some day have 
title to the home and then be relieved of the burden of rent. But the depression violently 
altered this situation. The earning capacity was not only lowered, but millions of fami- 
lies had no incomes at all. The foreclosures in the early depression years demonstrated 
that numerous families had assumed financial obligations they simply could not carry. 

"Priming the Pump." All of the conditions described in the foregoing paragraphs 
were obviously not the result of the depression alone. They were aggravated by the 
economic plight into which the nation had been plummeted, but they were the result of 
decades of indifference and neglect for the economic health of the nation. Furthermore, 
they were conditions for which there could be no quick and immediate cure. Govern- 
ment action was therefore devised as a "pump-priming" process. It was immediately 
necessary to stall the wave of foreclosures on homes, and the Home Owners Loan 
Corporation was created. 

Although too late to save one and one-half million homes, this agency was able to 
hold the line for more than a million with direct loans to threatened home-owners. Loans 
were made for a period of 15 years at an interest rate of 5 per cent, with the principal 
amortized in regular monthly payments. By June 1936, the HOLC had made 1,017,948 
loans on urban dwellings in a total amount of $3,093,450,641. Between 1937 and 
1940, 12 per cent of the outstanding mortgages in the country were held by HOLC. 
More than 500,000 loans were advanced to distressed farm owners by the Federal Land . 
Bank (originally created in 1917) and the Farm Mortgage Corporation. 



140 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

According to the 1941 Statistical Abstract of the United States, the number of fore- 
closures on urban real estate ran the following course: 

1926 68,100 1934 230,350 

1927 91,000 1935 228,713 

1928 116,000 1936 185,439 

1929 134,900 1937 151,366 

1930 150,000 1938 118,505 

1931 193,800 1939 100,961 

1932 248,700 1940 75,310 

1933 252,400 

There were nearly as many homes foreclosed during the ten-year period between 1930- 
39 as the number of new homes built. An average of 180,033 homes were foreclosed 
annually, whereas an average of about 270,000 new homes were built per year. 

In 1934 the National Housing Act created the Federal Housing Administration. It 
was the purpose of this agency to encourage credit for home financing and to revive a 
badly beaten house-building industry. FHA was a Federal government insurance agency. 
Its function was the insurance of loans by private lending institutions for construction 
of housing, and it tackled the problem on three fronts. Loans were insured for con- 
struction of new single-family homes, for alterations and repairs of existing dwellings, 
and for rental housing. 

Restoration of the home-ownership principle was not enough to revive the industry. 
Construction had bogged down so badly and credit channels were so clogged that a 
gross broadening of the whole market for home-ownership was necessary. Whereas 
financial agencies had previously loaned some two-thirds of the cost of dwellings, FHA 
guaranteed mortgages up to 90 per cent of the cost. Under Title II of the Act, 90 per 
cent loans were insured for dwellings costing $6,000 or less, including house and lot, 
and 80 per cent loans were insured for dwellings not exceeding $16,000 in cost. This 
was later modified to provide insurance of 90 per cent of the first $6,000 and 80 per 
cent of the balance for homes not exceeding $10,000 in cost. Prior to our entry into 
World War II in 1941, FHA-insured loans for new housing under Title II amounted 
to $3.11 billions for 725,000 mortgages, and nearly all dwellings built during the 
depression decade enjoyed the benefits of this program. Insurance of loans was also 
extended by FHA (Title I) for repairs and alterations to existing houses. This program 
reached $1.24 billions of insured loans. 

Another feature of the Act was directed at the encouragement of rental housing. The 
depression had nipped in the bud the fruitful prospects for investment housing begun 
early in the century and sponsored by such agencies as the New York State Board of 
Housing. The National Housing Act was intended to renew this program and provided 
for insurance by FHA of 80 per cent loans for limited-dividend large-scale housing 
developments. Despite the broad market and the urgent need for rental housing in this 



ISSUES IN FOCUS 141 

country, the popularity of the home-ownership program had sapped the incentive to 
engage in this phase of the program to the extent warranted by the market and invest- 
ment opportunities. Although there were 335 projects undertaken, there were only 
about 35,000 dwellings produced. 

The FHA program was government insurance against loss by financial institutions 
for loans they extended for home-building. There were some who observed the novelty 
of the Federal government guaranteeing lending agencies against the risk of loss, but 
this inconsistency with the traditional operation of our economic system was over- 
looked because the application of a "hypodermic" had become essential to stimulate 
the building industry. Being welcomed by financial institutions, it was an effective 
instrument. 

Accompanying this treatment for home-building was an improvement in financing 
residential construction. The second mortgage practice was eliminated, systematic re- 
payment of loans regular amortization was introduced, and interest charges for 
borrowed money were reduced, the FHA interest being 4^ per cent plus % per cent 
for insurance. 

FHA established minimum standards for construction and planning as a condition 
of its mortgage insurance. The fact that this policy brought about an improvement in 
the quality of residential construction is a sad commentary upon the standards of local 
building regulations and the laxity of their enforcement. 

Experiments. "Pump-priming" assumed a variety of forms. Huge sums were 
spent for public works, highways, dams, bridges, public buildings, and relief. Cities 
benefited through projects for new sewers, drainage, streets, schools, recreation centers, 
but there were no essential changes in the character of the city. The emergency created 
by the unemployment of millions of people left no time, or so it seemed, to deliberate 
the possible reformation of the urban framework. 

On the other hand, the vast displacement of workers in paralyzed industrial plants 
disturbed many serious reformers. Some inclined to the theory of subsistence home- 
steads located near decentralized factories as an effective antidote to periodic unem- 
ployment. There ensued a series of experiments with the forms of urban and rural 
patterns. 

The National Industrial Recovery Act of 1933 established the Subsistence Home- 
steads Division in the Department of the Interior. This Division built rural projects 
in which part-time industrial workers could acquire a house and subsistence plot. No 
down payment was required, and long-term loans were made by the government to 
eligible homesteaders. 

A key to recovery was rehabilitation of the agricultural economy of the country. 
In 1935 the Congress created the Resettlement Administration and there began a pro- 
gram of soil conservation and agricultural adjustment the country had long found 

wanting. 

The subsistence homesteads were transferred to the jurisdiction of the Resettlement 
Administration and merged with the rural resettlement program engaged primarily 




WYVERNWOOD, Los Angeles Witmer and Watson, Architects 

This FHA-insured rental project for "white collar" workers is composed of 1,100 two-story apartments on a 
72-acre site with a coverage of about 25 per cent of the land area. 




EDGEWATER PARK, Seattle 

Graham, and Painter , Architects 



A 305-dwelling, FHA-insured development on 
the shore of Lake Washington, it comprises 
two-story apartments and flats. 



S Ik- -ir-x: 



INTERLAKEN GARDEN APARTMENTS, Westchester County, New York 
Young and Moscowitz, Architects 



This project, planned for 3,500 units, is one 
of the largest approved for FHA in- 
surance. The first stage was 525 dwellings 
of two stories with a building coverage of 
only 14 p^jp cent of the land area. 





BALDWIN HILLS VILLAGE, Los Angeles 



Reginald Johnson, Lewis Wilson, Edwin E. Merrill, and 
Robert Alexander, Architects 



An attractive large-scale rental development of the early 1940*s, Baldwin Hills Village, consisted of 627 
dwellings in one- and two-story group houses and flats on an outlying 80-acre tract. The low land price, $2,300 
per acre, permits low density, about 8 families per acre, and a coverage of only 7.3 per cent of the land. A 
feature of this project is the private patio for about two-thirds of all the dwellings. It will be noticed in the 
plan that the boulevard along the north boundary (bottom of plan) is separated from the project by a park-strip 
and a service road from which the various garage courts are accessible. Additional parking space is provided by 
indented parking areas along the service drive and along minor boundary streets. Small playgrounds for 
children are distributed about the development in addition to the "village green" in the center. 




Vie Stein 



THE GREENBELT TOWNS 

As a component part of the Federal government's search for ways and means to cope with the modern city 
and its living environment, the Resettlement Administration planned four "greenbelt towns" beginning in 1935. 
They were satellite communities near large cities. The designs were inspired by Howard's Garden City idea, but 
they were not planned as self-contained towns; they were more like dormitory villages, the sources of employ- 
ment for the residents being in the near-by cities. Each was surrounded by a belt of permanent open space, 
part of which could be farmed or gardened. A full complement o community facilities was included in each 
town shopping, schools, and recreation space. 




GREENBELT, Maryland 



1 Water Tower 

2 Disposal Plant and In- 
cinerator 

3 Picnic Center and Lake 

4 Community Center 

5 Store Group 

6 Rural Homesteads 

7 Allotment Gardens 



This development is on a 2,100-acre site about 25 minutes' drive by automobile 
from Washington, D.C., and includes 712 dwellings in group houses and 288 
in apartments, a total of 1,000 units occupying an area of 250 acres. There are 
500 garages. The sixteen-room elementary school is jointly used as a com- 
munity center, and the shopping center includes space for a post office, food 
stores, a drug store, a dentist's and a doctor's offices, a 600-seat theater, and 
such service shops as shoe repair, laundry, tailor, barber, and beauty shops. 
There are a bus terminal, a garage and repair shop, a fire station, and a gas 
station. The recreation facilities include an athletic field, picnic grounds, and 
an artificial lake. The super-block is used, each block containing about 120 
dwellings with interior play areas. Underpasses provide continuous pedestrian 
circulation without crossing main roads. The commercial and community 
center, in the approximate center of the plan, reduces to a minimum the 
walking distance from all dwellings. 



GREENBELT, Maryland 

A semi-rural residential character was retained within the urban environment of the "greenbelt" towns. 

r 




GREENHILLS, Ohio. This development is a satellite of Cincinnati, about 11 miles from the central 
district. The entire site is 5,930 acres. Planned for 3,000 dwellings, 1,000 comprised the first stage of building. 
Twenty per cent are single- and two-family units, nearly half the units are in group houses containing three 
to six units per building, the rest about one-third are apartments. Garages are available for 17 per cent of 
the dwellings, although space is arranged to provide them for all dwellings if necessary. A total of 168 acres 
is used for housing, 12 acres for the community center, and 35 acres in roads; 50 acres are for allotment 
gardens, community parks, and playgrounds. Protective open space occupies about 695 acres. The remaining 
4,970 acres in the site are devoted to farms and wooded and wildlife areas. In this, as in Greenbelt, the super- 
block is the basic element, each averaging about 25 acres and housing between 400 and 500 persons per 
block. The community center contains the shopping district and the combined grade and high school for 
1,000 pupils and auditorium-gymnasium to seat 1,100 people. 



Town Common 
Commercial Center 
Community Building 
Athletic Field 
Interior Park 
Swimming Pool 
Sites for Future Resi- 
dential Development 
Greenbelt 




GREENDALE, Wisconsin 




This site of 3,500 acres is about one-half hour from Milwaukee. Planned for 3,000 units, only 750 dwellings 
have been built. The single-family detached house predominates, 380 units being of this type, 370 being twin 
houses. Most dwellings have attached garages. The community center and school and the shopping area at the 
center of the plan are within one-half mile of all dwellings. Generous park spaces are adjacent to the central 
part of the town, and permanent open agricultural space surrounds the built-up area. 



This project was not built because of legal entanglements. The proposed site, between 3,800 and 4,200 acres, was 
within one-half hour travel time of a number of industrial centers between Philadelphia and New York City. 
The ultimate plan would have accommodated some 4,000 families, but the initial development was intended to 
be 750 units. A few single detached houses and apartments were proposed, but the row or group house pre- 
dominated. The super-block and cul-de-sac roads, with large interior recreation space, were featured. 




\ 



GREENBROOK, New Jersey 



1 Pumping Station 

2 Sewage Treatment Plant 

3 Gardens 

4 Athletic Field 

5 Community Building 

6 Shops and Garage 

7 Future Town Center 

8 Water Tower 



ISSUES IN FOCUS 147 

in the removal of rural families from submarginal lands, of which there were an 
appalling number, to good farm land. The Resettlement Administration assisted 
the financing of these families with long-term amortized loans for land, buildings, 
and operating capital. Included within this broad program were rural projects for 
migratory workers in the western states. This combined the subsistence principle 
with part-time agricultural employment and its attendant quasi-industrial opera- 
tions. 

In addition to its rural operations, the Resettlement Administration engaged in an 
experiment with "greenbelt" towns. Four projects were planned, three of which were 
built: Greenbelt near Washington, D.C., Greenhills near Cincinnati, and Greendale near 
Milwaukee. The idea of a permanent belt of agricultural land surrounding these 
communities was borrowed from the Garden City pattern of Ebenezer Howard. The 
resemblance stops there, however, since the Resettlement suburban projects otherwise 
functioned largely as residential "dormitory" satellites for the near-by metropolis 
similar to any other suburban development. 

In 1936 the Resettlement Administration became the Farm Security Administration 
which continued the rural program, with the addition of aid in the acquisition of farms 
by tenant farmers provided in the Farm Tenant Purchase Act of 1937. All these 
functions were subsequently transferred to the Department of Agriculture where they 
now reside. 

Slum Clearance Begins. The depressing environment of the urban dweller in 
the slums was aggravated by the poverty of unemployment and public relief. When 
the National Industrial Recovery Act was drafted in 1933, a policy expressed by 
President Hoover's Conference on Home Building and Home Ownership was remem- 
bered. That policy referred to the problem of the slums. It read: "Unless this prob- 
lem can be met by private enterprise, there should be public participation, at least 
to the extent of the exercise of the power of eminent domain. If the interest of business 
groups cannot be aroused to the point where they will work out a satisfactory solu- 
tion of these problems through adequate measures for equity financing and large- 
scale operations, a further exercise of some form of government powers may be 
necessary in order to prevent these slums from resulting in serious detriment to the 
health and character of our citizens." 

The reminder of this policy appeared in the NIRA with the following slender 
clause: ". . . construction, reconstruction, alteration, or repair under public regula- 
tion or control of low-rent housing and slum-clearance. . . ," 2 As a result of this pro- 
vision the Housing Division of the Public Works Administration was created. 

It was the intention of this agency to loan funds to private enterprise for slum- clear- 
ance and construction of large-scale low-rent housing projects. The Reconstruction 
Finance Corporation had been empowered, in 1932, to make loans up to 85 per cent 
of the cost of similar developments by limited-dividend companies operating under 
the jurisdiction of state legislation. New York was the only state prepared with adequate 

2 Title II, Sec. 202. 



KNICKERBOCKER VILLAGE, 
New York City 

Knickerbocker Village is a slum-clearance 
project built by the Fred F. French Com- 
pany with financial assistance from the Re- 
construction Finance Corporation. Situated 
on the site of the notorious "lung block" 
on the lower east side of Manhattan, the 
land cost was extremely high. According 
to the 1935 Report of the State Board of 
Housing the average cost per square foot 
was $14.06. No form of subsidy was avail- 
able from the RFC, although the interest 
rate was only 4 per cent on the borrowed 
funds. The State Board of Housing re- 
quired that rentals not exceed $12.50 per room per month ($11.00 p.r.p.m. in areas other than Manhattan) to 
receive the benefit of tax exemption. Despite the advantage of this financing arrangement, it was necessary to 
produce a very high population density on the site to support the investment. Although the land area covered by 
buildings is less than the surrounding slums, the buildings are thirteen stories high and house 1,593 families. 
This is 50 per cent more than originally occupied the site. 






Fairchild Aerial Surveys, Inc- 



WILLIAMSBURG 
HOUSES, New York City 

Board of Design: R. H. 
Shreve, M. W. Del Gaudio, 
A. C. Holden, William Les- 
caze t Samuel Goldstein, Paul 
Trapani, G. H. Gurney, H. L. 
JFalker, J. W. Ingle 





| [SCHOOL 



"(6 





S STORES 

S STORES WITH APARTMENTS OVER 



SCM.E IN FEET 



50 100 800 300 400 500' 



One hundred years ago the 
site of this project was a 
country village. When the 
project was built in 1936, 
the site was occupied by 
1,279 families at a popula- 
tion density of 166 persons per acre. Two-thirds of the buildings were two- and three-story frame structures. 
More than one-half the number of dwellings had no running hot water, two-thirds had no private toilets, and 
three-quarters were without baths. The area was a fire hazard and refuse-ridden. This is the slum that had grown 
from a farm land within a period of 100 years. Williamsburg Houses is a development of four-story walk-up- 
apartment buildings of fireproof construction. The site covers 25 acres and the project provides 1,622 dwellings. 
The total cost per unit was about $7,700 of which about $2,500 was the cost of the land and "improvements"" 
demolished. It was the largest project built by the Housing Division of PWA. 




The Original Site 



WILLIAMSBURG HOUSES 



Fairchild Aerial Surveys, Inc. 
The Finished Project 




Fairchild Aerial Surveys, Inc. 




WESTFIELD ACRES, 

Camden, New Jersey 



Architects J. N. Hettel, C. L. MacNelly, F. H. Radey, A. B. Gill, Oscar Stonorov, H. N. Moffett, H. E. Hall, 
J. C. Jefferis, G. L. J. Neutze 



A project by the Housing Division of PWA of 514 apartments in three-story buildings. The site was a vacant 
area of 25 acres, the area of buildings covering only 15 per cent of the land. The cost was about $5,300 per 
dwelling. No through-traffic bisects the site, and garage compounds are located on the periphery. In this project 
we again observe the advantages of large-scale planning over the usual city street system and lot subdivision. 
The original planning of streets indicated outside the project area is replaced by interior roads designed only 
for service access to the buildings. Large open spaces flow throughout the site and provide safe recreational areas 
and gardens for adults and children. (The aerial view below was taken during construction of this development.) 




. S. Lincoln 



ISSUES IN FOCUS 151 

legislation and only one project was financed by RFC: Knickerbocker Village, a slum 
clearance project approved by the New York State Board of Housing. 

The Housing Division of PWA embarked upon such a program, loaning 85 per 
cent of the project cost to limited-dividend corporations whose applications demon- 
strated satisfactory evidence of the 15 per cent equity required of the applicant. Only 
seven projects could be approved and the necessity for a broader construction program 
caused the Housing Division to alter its course. It launched a program of direct con- 
struction of low-rent slum-clearance projects. 

Coupled with the objective of creating employment in the building industry was the 
social aim of adequate housing for families of low income living under substandard 
housing conditions. Although there had been experience in European countries as 
far back as the nineteenth century, government in the United States had not ventured 
into the field of housing prior to 1933. Touching, as it did, upon most of the social 
and economic ills of our urban communities, it is needless to say that the Housing 
Division was beginning a stormy career. 

The Housing Division met with numerous set-backs in its short career of about 4 
years, but finally completed some 22,000 dwellings. The right of eminent domain for 
the acquisition of sites divided into multiple ownerships was denied by the courts 
in connection with a slum clearance project in Louisville in 1935. 3 This right was 
denied on the premise that condemnation of land for housing was not a "public pur- 
pose" within the domain of the Federal government. Thenceforth the Housing Division 
was forced to select sites which could be acquired without recourse to condemnation. 
This forced, in turn, the use of vacant land for many projects. Despite this apparent 
handicap, twenty-seven of the fifty-one projects were built on sites which had been 
previously occupied by slums. 

Construction costs were higher than seemed warranted. To claim this to be the 
result of waste and inefficiency is to beg the real issues that confronted the Housing 
Division and the entire recovery program. The chaos of emergency had filtered into 
every nook and cranny of our economic and social life. This entailed a degree of 
waste in human and material resources beyond any possible measurement. Recovery 
was neither expected nor claimed by way of economy and efficiency, and the housing 
program of the Housing Division was construed as one means to accomplish this 
recovery. It is to the credit of the agency that enduring standards of decent housing 
and constructive principles of urban planning were treated as integral parts of a pro- 
gram intended primarily as an instrument for economic recovery and creation of 
employment. 

The United States Housing Act. The aggregate accumulation of substandard 
housing in this country adds up to a national problem of no small proportions. To 
that extent it is in the public interest for the national government to assume respon- 
sibility for assistance in improvement of housing conditions. However the direct impact 

3 Decision by District Court of U.S. for Western District of Kentucky, January 4, 1935, upheld by U.S. 
Circuit Court of Appeals for the Sixth Circuit, 2 to 1 vote, July 15, 1935. 



152 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

of bad housing occurs at the local level, the community we define as the city. Direct 
responsibility for maintenance of adequate housing standards rests with the local 
government. 

Recognizing the essential need for local responsibility and administration of hous- 
ing affairs, and the necessity for assistance to families of low income in obtaining 
decent housing within their capacity to pay, the United States Housing Act was passed 
by the Congress in 1937. This Act created the United States Housing Authority 
charged with the power to loan funds to local housing authorities established by state 
law to build low-rent public housing for families otherwise unable to obtain decent 
housing they could afford. The USHA was empowered to make annual contributions to 
these local authorities to bring rents within the range of low-income families. Accord- 
ing to the Act the purpose of the law was "to assist the several states and their political 
subdivisions to alleviate present and recurring unemployment and to remedy the unsafe 
and insanitary housing conditions and the acute shortage of decent, safe, and sanitary 
dwellings for families of low income, in rural or urban communities, that are injurious 
to the health, safety, and morals of the citizens of the United States." 

When the Act became law there were only fifteen states with legislation creating 
local housing authorities eligible to receive loans from USHA. There were forty-six 
local authorities in these states. The necessary legislation was enacted in rapid sequence 
and when the United States entered the postwar era, there was legislation in forty-one 
states, the District of Columbia, Hawaii, Puerto Rico, and the Virgin Islands, with a 
total of 448 authorities in cities and 368 in counties. 

The foundation of the Housing Act was decentralized control, with local initiative 
and responsibility. USHA may be considered analogous to a banker who loans funds 
to build houses; the local authority is the borrower; the purpose is building a pro- 
ject for rent to families in a community who, because of their low income, can afford 
only substandard housing facilities. The need for public housing arises from the fact 
that the low-income families cannot afford to pay an "economic rent." The USHA 
therefore makes annual contributions to the local authority, in addition to its func- 
tion as a "banker," to offset the difference between an economic rent and the rent the 
low- income families can afford. 

In conducting this program full responsibility rested with the local authority to 
determine the need for public housing, the location of projects, the planning, con- 
struction, and management of the developments. These projects are the property of 
the local authority. USHA loans 90 per cent of the total cost of a project at a low 
interest rate (about 2^ per cent) for a period up to 60 years. The remaining 10 per 
cent is borrowed by the local authority through the sale of its bonds to other lending 
institutions. The annual contributions from USHA are fixed by the Act at not more 
than 1 per cent above the current rate of interest on the loans (about 3^ per cent) 
and, in practice, the maximum contributions are substantially equal to the annual 
interest and amortization charges for the entire loan. However, they may be adjusted 
annually as the income levels and operating costs in a community fluctuate. 



ISSUES IN FOCUS 153 

It becomes the obligation of the local authority to ascertain that the rents are main- 
tained at a level which meets the needs of the lowest income families who could not 
otherwise find decent housing facilities. The Housing Act provided that rents could 
not exceed one-fifth of the income for families with less than three dependents and 
not more than one-sixth of the income for families with three or more dependents. 
By administrative ruling only families living in substandard dwellings were eligible 
to become tenants. 

The local authorities, being created by the states, derive their powers from the 
states. They are vested with the right of eminent domain in order to assure the acquisi- 
tion of sites for projects. According to the Housing Act it was required that one sub- 
standard dwelling be eliminated for each new dwelling built by the local authority. 
This requirement could be fulfilled either on the site of a project or, if the site was 
vacant or more dwellings were placed upon it than prior to demolition, the remainder 
could be eliminated by the city through the exercise of its police powers. 

The program has been fraught with heated criticism and support. Proponents were 
often overzealous ; opponents frequently socially unaware. The former claimed that 
housing should become a political issue but alienated the politicians. The latter insisted 
it should remain free from politics and proceeded to make their opposition a major 
political program. Early debate was focused upon the question of whether USHA 
was remaining within the area of housing for the low-income families and was clear- 
ing slums; more recently it has become popular to identify public housing with 
socialism and un-American activities, alleging it to be contrary to the interests of free 
enterprise. These are issues that remain thus far unresolved in terms of national policy. 

Meeting the Need. The depression uncovered convincing evidence of poor hous- 
ing conditions and the economic burden of blight on the urban community. Vast 
unemployment emphasized the plight of millions of families with insufficient incomes 
to buy or rent decent dwellings. Financial assistance from the Federal government 
was not only accepted, it was invited by local governments and enterprise generally. 
Public works contributed much to the physical wealth of the country. The Federal 
Housing Administration was welcomed by financial institutions, the construction trades 
and businesses, and prospective home-owners. The public housing program was too 
small to make a dent in the slum problem of cities; a total of 168,000 dwellings 
were built by local authorities with USHA loans in the 4 years of the program before 
the war, but the housing problem of the urban population was only revealed, it was 
not solved. 

According to the Final Report of the Executive-Secretary to the Temporary National 
Economic Committee on Concentration of Economic Power in the United States in 
1938, less than one-fifth of the new housing was in the market for three-quarters of 
the population with incomes under $2,000 a year. The lower third of the income 
group, below $1,000 per year, could only afford 1 per cent of the new houses; the 
income group between $1,000 and $1,500, being 24 per cent of the urban families,, 
could afford only 3.7 per cent of the new houses; and the $1,500-$2,000 income 




ni ii ii ii ir 



COLUMBIA VILLA, Portland, Oregon 
Stanton and Johnson, Architects 



A project of 400 dwellings built by the Housing Authority of 
the City of Portland, Oregon, with financial assistance of 
USHA. This project has an unusually low density and com- 
prises one-story twin houses and one- and two-story four-unit 
buildings. Designed as a series of dwelling courts, the dwellings 
face upon free open space. Parking spaces are combined with 
each court and laundry buildings are distributed about the 
site for convenient tenant use. 

Although the public housing projects, of which this is one, 
were financed and owned by the local housing authorities 
and built for rent to families of low income who were other- 
wise unable to afford the cost of decent housing in their com- 
munity, the standards of planning the projects were similar 
to those financed as private investments insured by the Fed- 
eral Housing Administration. The distinctions between the 
private and public housing developments were therefore less 
in the amenities of the living environment they provided than 
in the methods of financing to cope with the various economic 
levels of the people in the community. 

Being permanent improvements in the community, just as 
all other housing developments, the public housing projects 
were built to standards of planning considered adequate for 
a permanent neighborhood environment. The type of project 
varied with the characteristics of the community in which they 
were built and ranged from those of low density and ample 
open space, such as the one illustrated here, to tall apartments 
with high density in the more crowded large cities in the 
country. 




Leonard Delano 



ISSUES IN FOCUS 155 

group, representing 15 per cent of the population, could afford only 15 per cent of 
the new houses. The rest of all houses, 81 per cent of the total production, was avail- 
able to only 24 per cent of the families in the income range above $2,000 per year. 

This ratio of incomes to the cost of new houses was not a phenomenon; it was not 
a new development in the housing market. It was more or less typical, but the depres- 
sion made it more apparent. It was customary to assume that second-hand houses 
would filter down to successive income groups as production of new houses supplied 
the upper-income brackets. This process is rather natural but it has one distinct weak- 
ness: it encourages the accumulation of substandard houses. This will be treated later 
at more length since it presents an obstruction in the path of full production to meet 
the wide range of income groups in the housing market. This situation, however, must 
be recognized in appraising the combined efforts to supply housing through the nor- 
mal channels of private enterprise, through government guarantee of private lending 
institutions against loss on loans for housing, and through public housing for low- 
income families. 

The issues have not remained in clear focus. The program was new in this country; 
there had been little previous attention to housing for families in the slums with the 
exception of social settlement and charity organizations. Criticism of public housing 
diverted attention from the problem of housing for families of the lower income brackets 
and the rehabilitation of the decaying city. This criticism was not always accurate. 
Frequent claims were made that public housing did not reach the families for which 
it was intended. 

Nathan Straus, former Administrator of USHA, reported the following income 
groups housed in the public housing projects sponsored by USHA prior to the war: 

Annual Income per Family Percentage of Families Housed 

Less than $500 7.7 

$500-749 32.8 

$750-999 33.4 

$1,000-1,249 21.4 

$1,250-1,499 4.8 

Over $1,500 0.1 

According to Mr. Straus in his book. Seven Myths of Housing, the average shelter 
rent, that is, the rent for an unfurnished dwelling but including the mechanical 
equipment such as refrigerator and cooking range, was an average of $12.79 per 
dwelling per month in USHA-aided projects over the entire country. The rent including 
the cost of utilities electricity, heat, water, and cooking fuel, was an average of 
$17.98 per dwelling per month. The average income of tenants was $832 per family 
per year. 

The average construction cost for the dwelling, exclusive of land, site improve- 
ments, and overhead, was $2,700 per unit in USHA-aided projects; the average cost 
of FHA-insured dwellings was $3,601 between 1938-40. The total cost including land, 
site improvements, such as roads, walks, utilities, landscaping, and community facil- 



(56 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

ities, commissions, and administration, was an average of $4,307 per dwelling unit 
in USHA-aided projects; and $5,332 per dwelling in FHA-insured houses in the 
same period. 

In evaluating the USHA program there was reference to alleged high costs. Some 
confusion prevailed because USHA inherited the projects built by the Housing Divi- 
sion of PWA; these latter had cost in excess of USHA-aided developments, as indi- 
cated in the following comparisons where both types of projects were built: 

Average Construction Average Monthly Average Family 
Place Cost Rent Income 

Charleston, S. C. 

PWA $3,732 $19.33 $1,349 

USHA 2,939 12.26 765 

Jacksonville, Fla. 

PWA 2,746 15.32 850 

USHA 2,667 10.58 750 

Toledo, Ohio 

PWA 4,328 16.64 1,208 

USHA 2,996 14.25 839 

The principal issue that emerged from the public housing program was the dual 
character of its avowed purpose: to clear slums and rehouse families who, by force 
of their economic status, could not afford the full cost of decent housing. The causes 
of physical decay in our cities and the economic level of a large segment of the 
people who live in slums and blighted areas are interwoven. It is necessary, how- 
ever, that they be untangled if we are to see clearly a program designed to rehouse 
urban America. 

The most obvious reason to separate these two phases of the problem is the fact 
that slums and blight cannot be remedied without displacing the people who occupy 
them. If the cleared areas are to be rebuilt with housing low-rent housing the dis- 
placed people must find a place to live during the operation. The shortage of decent 
dwellings at low enough rents is a chronic condition. To force people out of one blighted 
area into another simply lends credence to the oft-quoted statement that people make 
the slums. 

Slum clearance is a popular phrase and an essential objective, but it is necessary 
that the sequence of clear slums and rehouse be reversed to rehouse and clear slums. 
This later sequence has been followed in other countries where intelligent steps have 
been taken to improve urban housing conditions and remove blighted areas from the 
city. Housing estates were built on the periphery of English cities, garden towns in the 
suburbs of Swedish cities, and Holland and Germany planned town extension programs. 

Slum clearance is more than pulling down old houses or tenements. It drives straight 
to the heart of urban rehabilitation. It immediately becomes part and parcel of urban 
planning for commercial and industrial land uses, and transportation as well as 



ISSUES IN FOCUS 157 

housing. In a word, it implies the planning of our cities. Slum clearance should be 
treated as urban redevelopment. Much of the misunderstanding that arose from the 
public housing program was due to the confusion between a program to clear the 
slums and blight from our cities and a program to build decent housing for low- 
income families. 

Housing is a part of the whole urban complex. It proceeds independently of slum 
clearance and, to the extent that city planning produces a pattern for the appropriate 
locations of new housing, it precedes rather than follows the clearance of slums. 
This is not to suggest that families should not be rehoused in the areas cleared of 
slums. Many blighted areas are particularly well suited for housing; many blighted 
areas would become desirable locations for income groups that can well afford 
housing requiring no suggestion of public subsidy. But the issue of the public housing 
program was the appropriate use of urban land in our cities, and it was not probably 
could not have been resolved for want of adequate planning preparation. 

It was quite natural to suppose that a "slum clearance" project would be located 
in a "slum." It was likewise natural to assume the worst slum would be the best 
place for such a project. These assumptions pressed heavily upon the prewar pro- 
gram because they are not necessarily true. In many instances they led to completely 
erroneous conclusions with respect to the selection of sites. 

Mixed land uses have induced blight. Dwellings intermingled with industrial and 
commercial surroundings are utterly incompatible. They lack the essential ingredients 
for stability; they create an environment in which blight is built-in and slums are 
inevitable. It would seem to be normal logic that an area zoned for business or industry- 
is no place for housing. However, blighted residential property is, with few exceptions, 
found in just such zones of land use. To replace slums with good housing in these 
areas is not appropriate land use, it is not good investment for the city, and it is due 
to a lack of planning. 

The absence of local planning, added to the popular zeal to get rid of ugly slums, 
presented the major dilemma of the prewar program to begin a comprehensive pro- 
gram for slum clearance and low-rent housing in this country. The experience demon- 
strated that a housing program cannot be carried on in our cities, whether by private 
enterprise or the public, until it is preceded or accompanied by appropriate urban 
planning. 

The Planning Dilemma. At no other time had there been a more pressing need for 
the benefit of city planning than the years of the Great Depression. Nor could there 
have been more convincing evidence of its absence. Much lip-service had been rendered 
the cause of planning in previous years, and a small but vocal profession had grown 
up around this theme. Yet cities were unprepared for action when the time was ripe. 

The state of the Union was desperate at the beginning of the thirties. A program for 
action was imperative. There was encouragement when the Administrator of Public 
Works appointed the National Planning Board in July, 1933. For the first time in the 
history of this country the advantages of research and analysis of our great natural 



158 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

resources were available for the general welfare. Prior to this time it was customary 
for separate offices of the government to collect facts; it was now provided that these 
facts should be correlated and thus become the pattern for appropriate action by the 
respective agencies of government. 

The National Planning Board became the National Resources Board by executive 
order of President Roosevelt in June 1934. It was the purpose of the Board "to prepare 
and present to the President a program and plan of procedure dealing with the physi- 
cal, social, governmental, and economic aspects of public policies for the development 
and use of land, water, and other national resources and such related subjects as may 
from time to time be referred to the Board by the President." The National Resources 
Committee succeeded the Board in 1935, and in July 1939 all these functions were 
transferred to the National Resources Planning Board. 

The Board and its predecessors were organized on a regional basis. Probably the 
most significant work was performed by way of encouragement of planning at local 
levels and technical assistance to local planning agencies. Regional, state, and city 
planning was reviewed and organized, comprehensive reports on the state of natural 
resources and recommended plans for appropriate conservation and use were made, 
developments and the relative importance of technological changes were recorded, and 
valuable data were assembled on urban growth and population. 4 

In 1943 the National Resources Planning Board was discontinued and its functions 
have since been performed by various committees of Congress. 

The work of the National Resources Planning Board and its predecessors was directed 
at issues of national scope. The resistance to planning these agencies confronted was 
reflected at the local level. Cities were unprepared when the depression struck, the few 
exceptions emphasizing the general absence of plans. Faced with an immediate op- 
portunity to establish permanent improvements in their environment, there was little 
evidence that the people had concerned themselves with the question of their future 
urban development. 

The issues of emergency and sound planning were confused. Building and maintain- 
ing the city constitute a complex and a vital problem. It requires planning to cope with 
this problem. The housing program during the depression demonstrated the tragic 
results of its absence. Subdivisions sprawled across the city without consideration of 
a plan into which the urban development could be integrated with the future use of land 
and become an effective means for improvement of community welfare. The public 
housing program was too frequently interpreted as an opportunity to get rid of some 
isolated eyesore or festering slum that pricked the civic pride. 

By the time that cities had become aware of their plight, the economic cost of blight, 
and the social hazard of slums, there was no time to plan. That would have to wait 
until the depression had spent itself and prosperity had returned. Had civic leadership 
glanced back upon the history of city development it would have been abundantly clear 
that planning can never wait. The course of human affairs marches steadily on and the 

4 See Bibliography, Part II, for partial list of publications. 



ISSUES IN FOCUS 159 

direction of its course is determined by the degree of planning which precedes it. When 
goals are set, they can be reached ; when they are absent, the urban community drifts 
like a ship without a compass. The goals have not yet been considered, and our cities 
are still adrift. 

War Begins a Neic Decade. Then came war, and another stroke of irony marked 
the affairs of human conduct. Planning assumed proportions never before conceived in 
history. With destruction of civilization a grim prospect, the scale of planning was 
gargantuan, staggering the imagination, even in retrospect. However, it was military 
planning. 

When the ominous spread of Nazi domination engulfed central Europe and threatened 
another world war, Congress enacted the National Defense Bill of June 1940. Industry 
turned its attention to production of war materials, and the Lanham Act authorized 
funds for housing workers in the defense plants. Numerous government agencies 
entered the housing program. In July 1940, the Office of Housing Co-ordinator was 
established to determine the need in places of acute shortage and allocate Federal 
funds to the various agencies. 

New construction by private enterprise insured by FHA was stepped up, HOLC 
assisted in the conversion of existing facilities, the low-rent program under USHA 
was stopped, and 100 per cent loans were extended to local housing authorities to 
build defense housing. The Public Buildings Administration, Defense Homes Corpo- 
ration, and Maritime Commission undertook construction of large-scale permanent 
government housing, and the Federal Works Agency launched a large program of 
prefabricated temporary dwellings. 

With the attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, all the energy of the nation 
was directed to the successful prosecution of the war. Peacetime and defense housing 
was supplanted by a vast program of war housing, and huge plants were constructed 
to build ships, airplanes, and armaments. 

In February 1942, all Federal housing agencies were consolidated in the National 
Housing Agency. The National Housing Act was amended to include Title VI, provid- 
ing insurance by FHA of 90 per cent loans, amortized in 25 years, for housing built 
by "operative" builders for sale or rent to war workers. The necessity to conserve 
materials was critical. The floor area of dwellings and the critical materials used in 
them were rigidly restricted. The Lanham Act was amended to provide for the construc- 
tion of temporary dwellings by the Federal government. 

More than 800,000 new dwellings were built and about 200,000 existing units con- 
verted by private enterprise, for a total estimated cost of $4,000,000,000. Nearly 
550,000 family dwellings and 170,000 dormitory units were built, and 50,000 existing 
structures converted into family dwellings, through the direct operations of the Federal 
government. There were, in addition, about 80,000 "stop-gap" shelters provided in 
the form of trailers to permit mobility for shifts as changing needs dictated. The cost 
of this program was some $2,300,000,000 for a total of 850,000 living units. 

It has been estimated that migration of industrial workers to man war jobs created 




WAR HOUSING, San Francisco 



Within the range of this aerial photograph are five of the war housing projects built in San Francisco for 
workers engaged in shipbuilding and allied industries during World War II. They were planned and built 
by the Federal government as temporary dwellings intended, according to the Lanham Act authorizing their 
construction, to be removed within two years after the President declared a termination of the war emergency. 
Being temporary dwellings and built during a period when the conservation of critical materials was of para- 
mount urgency, they were planned with consideration for economy in cost, space, quantity and quality of 
materials, and construction time. 

Since the end of the war these dwellings, and thousands of others built in a similar manner and for the 
same purpose in many localities, have been the subject of criticism for their "substandard" planning and 
construction. The criticism is justified and the dwellings should be removed as soon as production of housing 
with adequate standards of planning and construction absorbs the housing shortage. 

An examination of the photograph, however, causes one to ponder the criticism of this ''substandard'* 
character attributed to these projects. The fact that they are readily distinguishable in the picture suggests a 
reason to raise this question. Among the criteria for appraisal of the quality of a living environment is that 
of appropriate planning of the streets, their relation to the topography of the site, and the resulting harmony 
between the dwellings, circulation about them, and the shape of the land upon which they are built. 

San Francisco is a series of hills and valleys, and the picture casts some doubt on the validity of an assumption 
that the war projects are below the standard of the more permanent development about them. Laid in a 
gridiron, the street system of the city ignores the geographic nature of the beautiful site of this great city. 
The hills, on which the war projects were built, had been platted for this same gridiron street pattern. The 
war projects, however, demonstrated a standard of urban planning that cannot be ignored in an appraisal of 
their value. The contrast between them and the "rectilinear habit" is too apparent to be overlooked. This con- 
trast is further enhanced by the development of the central shopping centers and parking facilities within the 
war projects in comparison with the inorganic spotting of retail business strung along the streets of the 
permanent residential districts throughout the city. 



Maintenance Building 

Shopping Center 

Community Building 

Administration Building 

Clinic 

Elementary School 

Junior High School 

Water Supply Towers 

Water Reservoir 

Electric Power Sub-station 




AlcLOUGHLIN HEIGHTS, Vancouver, Washington 

This was one of the largest single World War II housing assignments by the National Housing Agency about 
5,000 dwelling units. The initial project of 1,000 acres required facilities for a population substantially the same 
as the city of Vancouver itself. Seven groups of architects were assigned areas for planning in the entire 
development, being co-ordinated by the local housing authority. 

The plan has been criticized for an absence of a single over-all pattern. This criticism exposes the usual 
nostalgia for monumental uniformity to which we became accustomed during the eclectic nineteenth and 
early twentieth centuries. Although the project reflects a lack of mature study because of its emergency nature, 
the plan is nevertheless fairly well organized. The principal highway from Vancouver, situated to the west of 
the site, splits into two major traffic routes with transverse arteries crossing at points between ^ and 1 mile 
apart. 

The long buildings indicated in the plan were added at a later date and interspersed among the initial units 
along the highways and remaining open space. Except for these later additions, an examination of the plan 
shows that most of the dwellings were arranged about minor residential roads, the main highways being 
largely left free from frequent intersections. 

The site is a plateau above the Columbia River, the source of employment for war workers having been 
located along the river to the south of the project. 




162 THE INDUSTRIAL CITY 

a need for housing some 9,000,000 families. War work was distributed in all parts 
of the country, but the most pressing need was in large centers for the tremendous new 
industrial plants. Individual projects of 5,000 units were built in such places as Willow 
Run near Detroit; Norfolk, Virginia; Vancouver, Washington; and San Diego and 
San Francisco, California. The largest single operation was 10,000 dwellings for the 
Kaiser shipyards at Portland, Oregon. 

The influx of great numbers of workers and their families strained every urban 
service. Housing was not complete without new streets, utility systems, parks and play- 
grounds, theaters, shops and markets, and restaurants. Whole new communities were 
created in a few months, and war production was sustained. 

The war was won. The goal had been clear the survival of freedom. Planning 
guided the campaign. The production and distribution of goods, materials, food, weap- 
ons, and man power were planned. It was necessary, and well done. 

Thus ended another paradox in the course of human events. While military planning 
was winning a great campaign, planning for the peace to come was abandoned. It will 
be remembered that the National Resources Planning Board died during the conflict, 
and the planning process, with which our institutions were saved in war, was 
denounced as an enemy of freedom. We have need to learn from yesterday so as to 
prepare today for a better tomorrow. 



PART III 

THE PLANNING 
PROCESS 



If -we could first know where we are, 
and whither we are tending, we 
could better judge what to do, and 
how to do it. 

Abraham Lincoln* 




CHAPTER 10 



THE LEGAL 
FOUNDATION 



An Age of Urban Anarchy. A century before the Golden Age of Athens, a Greek 
philosopher, Heraclitus, said the problem of human society is to combine that degree 
of liberty without which law is tyranny with that degree of law without which liberty 
becomes license. The democracy of Athens and the Constitution of the United States 
were wrought from the same precepts. An organized society was formed about a group 
of laws, a set of rules to guide the people in their conduct. The purpose was to 
guarantee liberty and justice for all. 

Inspired by this freedom the people of America created a vast domain of commercial 
and industrial enterprise. And they built great cities. 

Today we see these cities scarred by congestion and decay, speculation and ugliness. 
We see the science and invention of our remarkable age snarled in a tangle of the urban 
network. The mediocrity of our cities is a travesty on the productive genius and creative 
energy of America. 

It is not the desire of the people that their cities should be so built. It is rather their 
ambition to create fine cities, else the forward strides that have been taken would not 
have been attempted. It is the essence of democracy that the people shall be masters of 
their destiny, that their behavior shall be guided by the precepts of law and order. Yet 
our cities suffer disorder and confusion as though born of anarchy. The most frantic 
antidotes of regulation appear inept and futile. The reasons for this state of urban 
affairs may be apparent upon examination. 

Who are the city builders? They are the multitude of city people who invest in urban 
property and improvements. All the people participate. Some share by their invest- 
ments of capital in physical improvements for conduct of profitable enterprise; others 
invest in municipal revenue bonds which pay for public improvements. All participate 
through their payment of taxes for the public services that make urban investment 
feasible. 

165 



166 THE PLANNING PROCESS 

Forty per cent of the city area is public property: the streets, parks, schools, and a 
variety of public improvements. Within this area local government may shape the 
streets, traffic arteries, and open spaces according to the designs of official planners. But 
the bulk of city building, 60 per cent of the total urban area, proceeds parcel by parcel 
as industry, business, and home-seekers find opportunity for investment. 

Those who invest for personal profit are guided by the "market" for improve- 
ments. The measure of this "market" is double-barreled. Investment in a city implies 
stability of values. By its nature the city is a permanent institution whose purpose is to 
shelter the continuing activities of people. It is not a natural speculative medium. An 
immediate "market" induces investment, but a continuing "market" makes of it a 
sound investment. 

Stability depends upon the quality of the improvement itself. It also depends upon 
the quality of the other improvements that have preceded and those that will follow. 
It depends upon the standards at which a community maintains itself, the maintenance 
of existing facilities, and the standards it demands for future improvements. These 
standards determine the difference between environmental degeneration or stability, 
and upon them rests the difference between speculation and sound urban development. 

Nor do the physical improvements on private land alone affect the health of urban 
investment. The warp of the community pattern is the network of streets, utilities, and 
transportation. The city functions through the circulation of goods and services; the 
strength of the urban pattern is measured by the adequacy and convenience of the 
circulatory system, the stability of investments by the level at which the community 
maintains itself. 

Urban growth is, in some respects, analogous to processes in nature. The soil of 
fertile and prosperous citizenship is tilled, the seeds of investment are planted, and the 
garden is cultivated with urban management and maintenance, both public and private. 
All urban activities and functions are inseparable. The only area in which they may be 
isolated is that of speculation, and, for that reason, speculation is damaging. 

Speculation quick turn-over for quick profit contributes in large measure to build- 
ing a city, but the speculator assumes no responsibility for his product since he is not 
concerned with the use of the improvement. That responsibility and the obligation for 
maintaining it are shifted to others when he transfers ownership. The motive of specula- 
tion consequently induces inferior quality; it is concerned only with the least possible 
initial cost. 

Speculative improvements are none the less an investment in the city. They are in- 
vestments in which the public participates. Public services must be made available to 
all property, and the cost of these services is paid by taxes and public utility rates. 
These costs are measured to a large degree by the quality of the improvements that 
comprise the city. High quality holds stable values, resists spotty shifts in urban land 
use, and wasteful extension and duplication of public services. 

What determines the physical form of the city? It emerges from the initiative and 
enterprise of many people, acting individually and in groups. However, the people are 



THE LEGAL FOUNDATION 167 

guided by a set of standards and not from some preconceived model of the future city, 
however brilliant or inspired. This set of standards is the law. The real plans for our 
cities are the standards prescribed by law the codes and ordinances that regulate the 
development of urban property. 

It is a cardinal point of our constitutional form of political organization that ours is 
a government of laws the rules by which our democratic "game" is played. City 
building is guided by the maximum quantity and minimum quality the law allows. Laws 
form an integral part of the whole planning process, and it is appropriate to the 
democratic process that the people who design and invest in urban building shall find 
free expression and action within the limits prescribed by law. 

That this process imposes a singular responsibility upon the citizen must be self- 
evident. It is the obligation of the people to determine the standards they deem appro- 
priate for their city and translate these standards into effective rules and regulations. 
It can be fairly stated that this responsibility has not been discharged with the intel- 
ligence and devotion demanded of citizenship in a democracy. Our cities bear violent 
testimony to that fact. If we are to bring improvement to the urban environment it 
devolves upon the people, civic leaders in business, industry, the arts, and public 
office, to assume this responsibility with vision, integrity, and an unflinching will 
to serve the public interest. In the final analysis it is only the few who reap profitable 
reward through violation of the general welfare. 

Urban development implies a continuing responsibility, all forces acting together 
and interdependent^. The degree to which these forces are integrated reflects the 
aspirations, ambitions, and convictions of a community, and the initiative and respon- 
sibility of the citizenship in whole and in each of its parts. When the forces that con- 
tribute to city building are unbalanced, inequities develop and the city declines. The 
energy is sapped, the city no longer provides a field for sound and continuing busi- 
ness investment, and the environment degenerates. 

Since the laws applying to the physical development of the city set the standards for 
that development, it is important to examine the effect of these regulations and the 
prospects for improvement in them. It is important for those who invest their capital 
for profitable return and for those who pay the taxes that maintain the community. 
The cities themselves bear testimony to the ineffective nature of many of our laws. 
The legal framework that molds the urban pattern provides some advantages, but cities 
appear to have drifted into a state approaching anarchy. 

Until recently public contact with city planning has been limited; even today most 
people have little knowledge about planning, its practices, its limitations, or its sig- 
nificance to their daily living. First contact usually comes when a building permit is 
sought and the aspirant is either granted a permit or informed that he may not proceed 
with the improvement as he desired. If the permit is granted, the relationship of the 
individual and planning is a fleeting one and his lack of knowledge continues. If, 
however, the permit is denied, the citizen may inquire the reason. When informed that 
the law denies him that right because it is inconsistent with the welfare of the com* 



168 THE PLANNING PROCESS 

munity, the citizen may depart from the planning office, accepting this interpretation 
of the law. Or he may have the temerity to ask: What law? How does a community 
come by the right to restrain him from the free exercise of his will in developing 
property he owns? Is this not the confiscation of private property without due process 
of law and without just compensation, both of which are violations of the Constitution 
of the United States? 1 

It is in the interest of the people that they be informed on these questions; they are 
the foundation of planning in democracy. 

When Official Planning Began. The time when land was first allocated to specific 
uses is, of course, shrouded in prehistoric mystery. The failure of land to respond to 
cultivation demonstrated that certain land was not adapted to agricultural use but, 
since there were few ways of passing this information on to others, it was probably 
necessary for successive users to learn by trial and error what marginal areas were 
unfit. 2 

Tribal experience indicated that certain land was suitable for raising crops, other 
land was better for grazing animals, and some was unproductive. When these expe- 
riences were transmitted from generation to generation by word of mouth and tribal 
custom, we had the first haphazard land-use plan. Certainly enforcement was effective; 
struggle for survival in a not too friendly world left the line between life and death 
too thin for a man to cultivate land a second time after it had refused to give him 
food the first time. Thus land was identified as either agricultural or nonagricultural 
and, if the latter, it had little value. Since there was much land and the people were 
few in number, man, living a nomadic life, found little need to fight for or limit him- 
self to any single area. In those regions where the land gave bountiful harvest from 
the seeds planted, the wanderers settled down and formed the first permanent agrarian 
communities. 

The customs of land use in the earliest days defined the planting seasons, the har- 
vesting seasons, the first descriptions of crop rotation, and the idea of resting the land 
after a number of years of use. The priesthood wielded tremendous persuasive powers, 
and many codes of land use were incorporated in religious doctrines, some of which 
are still part of religious observations today. 

With the development of civilization, the building of cities, and the growth of popu- 
lation, land took on other values than that attached to agricultural use. The fixed market- 
place became a land use of great value, the public open space, the forum, and the 
commons being the important center of the town. Special places were designated 
for the storage of explosives, for the slaughter of animals, and for the residential 

1 Federal Constitution, 14th Amendment, 1868, Section I : "No State shall make or enforce any law which 
shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any 
person of life, liberty or property without due process of law, nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction 
the equal protection of the laws." 

2 "Because the ground is chapt, for there was no rain in the earth, the plowmen were ashamed, they covered 
their heads. Yea, the hind also calved in the field and forsook it, because there was no grass. And the wild 
asses did stand in high places, they snuffed up the wind like dragons; their eyes did fail, because there was 
no grass." Jeremiah 14, 4-6. 



THE LEGAL FOUNDATION 169 

developments of the aristocracy. It did not take rulers long to recognize that the 
relationship between land uses was of paramount importance, that the slaughter- 
houses had no proper place on the windward side of their palaces. In our present-day 
cities we have taken far less care in locating smoke- and dust-producing industries. 
It is true, of course, that protection of a few homes from obnoxious conditions was a 
far simpler task than controlling industrial development in relation to the mush- 
rooming residential areas that crowd our urban landscape today, but some applica- 
tion of this principle might have given us a far less objectionable environment in our 
urban communities. 3 

While the storage of powder in a convenient place was important to the people's 
defense, it was soon recognized as a menace when stored too near their homes. With 
these early concepts of danger and discomfiture began the first official designation 
of areas within which certain uses were segregated as a matter of protection to the 
people in a community. 

In ancient cities people were themselves regulated as to where they might live. 
Workers were restricted to areas outside the fortress walls and were called within when 
required to protect the interests of rulers. As cities grew in size and power, certain 
minority groups were restricted to areas commonly called "ghettos." These minority 
groups differed in various periods and in different parts of the world, but history 
repeatedly records their plight, their misery, and deprivation. These ghettos were 
always the overcrowded slums and the center of poverty, and when disease struck the 
city the people in these areas suffered most. Fear of these plague-ridden spots gen- 
erated hatred and conflict, and confinement of living quarters was extended to restric- 
tions on the work the inhabitants might perform and the places they might travel. 
Seldom did such imposed regulations have legal foundation, but since they were 
enforced by the police and with public sanction they were accepted as equivalent to 
legal control. 

To assume that such conditions are confined to history or remote places would be 
unrealistic since there remains today considerable regulation over minority groups; the 
areas in which they live are not called ghettos but they retain many historic char- 
acteristics. 

The Police Power. Use of the police power to carry out the official aims of a 
group in power has always been considered proper, but abuse of the power by ruling 
governments in the past gave rise to actions by the people to curtail that power. Anglo- 
Saxon and French legal procedures are the outgrowth of the struggle of the people 
against the autocratic, whimsical, and sometimes frivolous use of powers by the heads 
of states and nations. The Constitution of the United States and the Bill of Rights were 
created to guarantee that there would be no punitive action by an individual or gov- 

3 Ex parte Shrader, 33 California 279, 1876: "Habeas Corpus to review judgement of conviction for violating 
order of the Board of Supervisors .of the City and County of San Francisco prohibiting the maintenance of 
slaughter houses, the keeping of swine, the curing of hides or the carrying on of any business or occupation 
'offensive' to the senses or prejudicial to the public health or comfort, in certain portions of the city." The courts 
held this to be a valid use of the police power. 



170 THE PLANNING PROCESS 

ernment against persons without just cause and with full and open trial in the courts 
of law. 

Today it is a widely accepted principle that the source of all power lies in the hands 
of the majority of the people. This implies that the people of a city or town, through 
the governing body, have the right to enact laws and regulations that support their ideas 
of what is best for their community. The distinction between this principle and the 
exercise of power in the past, whether by a minority or a majority,, is our recognition 
that regulations of law today apply to all the people, and no class is expected to be 
immune. The principal restraint upon law is that it shall not be in conflict with the 
Constitution of the United States nor the constitution of the state in which it is enacted. 

The power to pass and enforce laws to protect the welfare of all the people, whether 
they be enacted at a local or a national level, is called the exercise of the police power. 4 
Enforcement of the legislation enacted by the people or their representatives generally 
rests with the police department, which apprehends persons accused of law violation. 
The police department is required to explain the charges preferred and turn the accused 
over to the courts for a decision on innocence or guilt and the terms of punishment 
prescribed by the law. The United States Constitution assures that the punishment meted 
out shall not be cruel and unusual, or arbitrary. 

It is necessary that the police power be exercised for a worthy purpose and with 
definitely stated objectives. In cases where police power is used to regulate or deny the 
use of property without compensation, it must be clearly shown that the continued use 
of that property would be inimical to the best interests of the community. A house 
that is structurally unsound or badly infested with rats may be dangerous to the public 
in general as well as the persons living in it, and it is thus subject to being closed under 
the police power without compensation to the owner. The equity for such actions rests 
upon the assumption that the people are obliged to maintain their property at standards 
which will not impose a nuisance upon the community and the necessity to exercise the 
police power to abate such a nuisance does not warrant compensation to the owners of 
the affected property. 

Taking land for a public purpose when the owner does not want to sell is known 
as exercise of eminent domain. Condemnation of the property is instituted in the courts 
which then establish a fair price based upon testimony from witnesses representing 
the owner, the community, and impartial appraisers. Use of the right of eminent 
domain is not to be confused with use of the police power: the principal difference 
between the two powers lies in the matter of compensation to the owner; under the 
police power the state does not "take" the property from its owner it regulates the 
right of use on behalf of the public welfare. 

4 Police power was expressed in ancient law as: "Due regulation of domestic order of the kingdom where 
members of the state, like a family, are bound to conform their behavior in good propriety ... to be good 
members and an orderly part of the community"; and later: "Police Power ... is the name given to the inherent 
sovereignty which is the right and duty to exercise when the public policy demands enforcement of such 
regulations for the general welfare as are necessary for the regulation of economic conditions to provide for 
adequate community life." Parker v. Otis, 130 California 322. 



THE LEGAL FOUNDATION 171 

The police power of a community is limited to the area within its political bound- 
aries. Thus the state laws may be enforced within any part of the state unless other- 
wise provided in the laws, the county laws only within the county, and city or township 
laws only within their limits. Beyond this, cooperation between governmental agencies 
constitutes the only effective method for coordinated action or regulation. 

The police power was retained by the sovereign states at the time of formation of 
the Federal government. Only when the national welfare is involved and when the 
local government is unable to cope with a situation does the state deem it necessary 
to call for assistance from the Federal government. Federal laws, however, do affect 
the relationships between the states; we have an Interstate Commerce Commission 
to regulate rates on railroads dealing in interstate commerce, and the national labor 
laws regulate wages and hours of persons employed in industries which sell their 
products through interstate commerce. These instances are uses of the police power by 
the Federal government. 

Some states give the police power to cities and counties by specific legislative acts; 
others grant this right to communities in their state constitutions. The purpose of the 
police power is to protect the health, safety, and general welfare of its citizens, but 
the manner in which the power is granted differs in the various states. The power to 
make laws and regulations dealing with the activities of the citizens of a community 
and the property they possess is a key to the planning process and particularly to that 
phase called zoning. 

Zoning The First Step. The first steps in the direction of modern city planning 
can be traced to practices of establishing districts within which certain rights of cit- 
izens were legally curbed. King Philip of Spain, 5 in outlining the procedure for estab- 
lishing communities in the New World, instructed his explorers that streets were to 
be oriented in such a manner as not to be windswept, and that slaughtering places 
for cattle were to be located on the outskirts of town so odors would not prove offen- 
sive to the townspeople. In Boston the segregation of the storage place for gunpowder 
from the center of the city was one of America's first recorded acts of zoning. In 
1810 certain Napoleonic decrees and the Prussian codes of 1845 contained land-use 
regulations. 

Most early laws were concerned only with those uses considered a menace to life 
itself, and regulations against most of these uses were based on presentation of evi- 
dence in court that the uses were existing and had proven themselves dangerous. This 
proof was possible, in most instances, only after some great loss of life directly trace- 
able to the specific use. In most cases, such as the tenement house fire disasters in 
New York City, continued construction of the dangerous buildings was prohibited 
but little was done to eliminate the danger that hung over the thousands of people who 
continued to live in "outlawed" fire-traps. It was considered a critical point in all legal 
action at the time that the establishment of dangerous uses could be prevented, but that 
such laws could not be retroactive. 

5 Law of the Indies, King Philip of Spain, 1573. 



172 THE PLANNING PROCESS 

Legal action on zoning affairs passed through two stages of development before 
it arrived at the place it enjoys today. The first stage included a group of court cases 
which actually preceded zoning and served to establish the base for zoning law and 
gained its recognition as a legal use of the police power. These cases dealt with 
"nuisance uses" which the courts treated as separate and individual matters, the court 
deciding in each specific case whether a use was detrimental to the health, safety, and 
public welfare. As time passed, the courts required more evidence as a base for refer- 
ence, evidence "indicating the character of a community," before it was willing to rule 
upon the validity of a use. This call by the courts for a comprehensive city plan is 
now answered in the General Plan of land use. 

In California 6 an ordinance which prohibited a slaughter house, hog storage, and 
hide curing in certain districts of the city was upheld in the courts. In Los Angeles, 7 
in 1895, an ordinance which prohibited the operation of a steam shoddying plant 
within 100 feet of a church was upheld; in this latter case the court passed not only 
upon the nature of the specific use but upon the relationship between uses. 

The legality of the establishment of fire zones or districts has been upheld in most 
courts, the structural nature of buildings and their relation to space being admitted as 
an important factor in determining the uses permitted within a structure. In San Fran- 
cisco, because of the great number of wooden buildings with party walls, certain dis- 
tricts were established by ordinance within which hand laundries were prohibited; 
wood fires were burned in the stoves upon which the laundry was boiled and several 
serious fires resulted. This ordinance was taken to the state Supreme Court 8 and was 
held unconstitutional and invalid, not because of the regulation itself, but because it 
was a breach of the 14th Amendment of the United States Constitution ; it empowered 
a man or group of men at his or their absolute and unrestrained discretion to give or 
withhold permission to carry on a lawful business in any place. It was pointed out 
that the washing of clothes was not opposed to good public morals nor was it sub- 
versive of public decency, but the court cited the fact that all but one of the non- 
Oriental applicants were issued permits in a similar business in like areas and were 
permitted to continue in business whereas the petitioner and two hundred others of his 
race were denied permits. The court held that the ordinance was not unreasonable, 
but that its application was arbitrary class legislation discriminating against one group 
in favor of another. It thus violated the 14th Amendment of the United States Con- 
stitution, and the ordinance was declared to be invalid. The fair administration of a 
law is integral with the provisions of the law in the eyes of the courts. 

One of the earliest decisions in this country upholding an ordinance in the nature 
of a zoning regulation was made by the courts in 1920. 9 In sustaining a town plan 
before it, the court stated: "It betters the health and the safety of the community; it 
betters the transportation facilities; and it adds to the appearance and the wholesome- 

6 Ex pane Shrader, San Francisco, 1867. 

7 Ex pane Lacey, 108 California 326. 

8 Yick Wo v. Hopkins, 118 U.S. 356, 1885. 

9 Windsor v. Whitney, 95 Connecticut 357, 363. 



THE LEGAL FOUNDATION 173 

ness of the place, and as a consequence it reacts upon the moral and spiritual power 
of the people who live under such surroundings." 

Changing Interpretation of the Law. The series of laws which establish the right 
to zone and enforce zoning is like a chain linking all the powers of government with the 
needs and desires of the people. As in all other legal procedures in a democracy, there 
is always available to individuals and groups of people the final recourse to the courts 
for determination of the reasonableness of a law or the fairness with which it has 
been applied. 

Some very significant changes have taken place in the interpretation by the courts 
of laws regulating the use of property. The growth of communities into large cities 
has necessitated detailed and involved legislation governing self-discipline in human 
relations. What may have passed unnoticed in a small community may be viewed as 
dangerous in cities. Thus the keeping of pigs, horses, and chickens would be considered 
as an accepted right in a farm town, but would be looked upon with horror on Man- 
hattan Island. What may be tolerated in a small community as a necessary nuisance is 
contested and actively combated in a metropolis. The maintenance of open privies in 
backyards may be accepted practice in nonurban areas with no funds for sewage dis- 
posal, whereas the same condition in any large city would have the entire population 
declaring it a menace to the health and life of all the people. 

There has been in the eyes of the court a necessity for recognizing the problems 
created by the concentration of people in our cities. The dangers of disease, crime, 
delinquency, fire, and injury from traffic are rapidly multiplied as the housing, com- 
merce, and industry of the large city absorb the open space which formerly insulated 
people against these dangers. Thus there came into being the concept that people have 
the right to protect themselves against these and other hazards by planning and zoning 
an environment which will meet the requirements of urban living. Where we would 
have relied in the past upon the police power to prohibit acts which the courts deter- 
mined to be a violation of a law, today we enact laws which tend to discourage in 
advance those acts which can be prevented. 

Our philosophy of urban conduct is no longer confined to the public health, safety, 
and general welfare but has extended to the use of the police power for the mainte- 
nance of such matters as "public convenience and comfort." The Supreme Court of 
the United States has said: 10 "The police power of a state embraces regulations 
designed to promote the public convenience or the general prosperity as well as regu- 
lations designed to promote the public health, the public morals, or the public safety." 
Traffic laws which prohibit parking on certain streets are justified on the grounds that 
they make access to important areas a matter of greater convenience as well as assure 
the safety of people. Laws which prohibit dangerous or obnoxious uses from resi- 
dential areas are considered to protect property values from depreciation and, in this 
manner, protect the general prosperity. 

Some efforts have been made to incorporate in zoning laws such matters as archi- 

10 Chicago B. & Q. Ry. Co. v. Drainage Commissioners, 200 U.S. 561, 592. 



174 THE PLANNING PROCESS 

tectural control, seeking thus to protect the esthetic feeling of people, but the courts 
have not yet given much comfort to the prospect for wide acceptance of the enforcement 
of this device through the police power. 11 Restrictive covenants to enforce discrimi- 
nation against minority groups by race restrictive provisions in zoning ordinances 
were declared unconstitutional by the United States Supreme Court in 1927. 12 

The Public Welfare. The courts were called upon to rule on some mighty prob- 
lems in the early days of zoning. What was the public welfare? When was public 
health or life endangered? What was an obnoxious use? At what point is the estab- 
lishment of a district reasonable and at what point does it become arbitrary? Was it 
proper for the court to substitute its judgment for that of the legislative body on matters 
of the "substance" of a zoning ordinance? When can a community permit a use in 
one area and deny it in another? 

A series of court decisions records the differences of opinion held within the 
courts themselves, but filtering through them all are decisions accepted today as a 
sound precedent for interpretation of the community's right to establish zoning dis- 
tricts and regulate the use of property. The Hadacheck case 13 in Los Angeles, 1913, 
cites one of the basic considerations in all zoning law. Although it preceded recog- 
nized zoning statutes, it dealt with the violation of a city ordinance prohibiting the 
maintenance of brickyards and kilns within a designated residential district of 
some three square miles. The court ruled that this use of property must cease and 
desist since the smoke, dust, and fumes emanating from the plant were damaging to 
the health of the people living near by. In this case the brickyard was located and 
operating in the area before it was occupied by residences, but the court did not con- 
sider the property right claimed by the owner to be as important as the health and 
welfare of the people. The claim of discrimination was raised by the owner since 
brickyards and kilns were permitted in other areas near residential developments, but 
it was disallowed on the grounds that "it is no objection to the validity of the ordi- 
nance that in other districts similarly situated brick kilns are not prohibited. It is 
for the council to say whether the prohibition should be extended to such other 
districts." 

In another case 14 the city of South Pasadena attempted to restrict the operation of 
a rock-crusher in a high-class residential district. This district was then sparsely 
developed, whereas similar operations were permitted in other and more heavily 

H Soho Park and Land Co., 142 Atlantic 548. 

12 Buchanan v. Worley, Louisville, Kentucky, 245 U.S. 60 ; 62 Law Edition, 149. Ordinance regulated occu- 
pancy of blocks of city; colored people could not occupy buildings in blocks where greater number of dwellings 
were occupied by whites and vice versa. 

The United States Supreme Court, 38 Supreme Ct. Report, 16, ruled this ordinance unconstitutional because 
it forbade the sale of property to a person because of his color . . . this was not a proper use of the police power, 
even though the City of Louisville claimed that mixing of the races (colors, Ed. comment) would create riots. 
This use of the police power was a violation of the 14th Amendment of the Federal Constitution, for it prevented 
the use of property and deprived its owner of use without due process of law. 

i*Ex pane Hadacheck, 165 California 416, 1913; Hadacheck v. Sebastian, 2390 Supreme Court, 394; 60 
Law Edition, 348. 

" Matter of Throop, 169 California 93 (1915). 



THE LEGAL FOUNDATION 175 

populated residential districts. The ordinance was declared unreasonable and void. It 
was ruled unreasonable to prohibit such use in a sparsely settled district when the 
same use was permitted in a densely populated district The court made much of the 
fact that the poorer class of homes surrounding the industrial district are entitled to 
the same protection as the fine homes. The courts held in the Throop case, and in 
others dealing with the mining of natural resources, that these minerals must be 
extracted where they are found, and if this use is denied there would be no material 
for construction. 

Another controversy deals with the relative value of natural resources. In the 
Roscoe area within the limits of Los Angeles rock was quarried for many years and 
each pit was abandoned when the supply became exhausted; the area of mining was 
then extended to a new site for extraction. In this same area, because of the excellent 
climatic conditions, great numbers of health-seeking individuals established their 
homes. The expansion of rock-quarrying, it was contended, undermined the value of 
the climatic resource to the point that the lives of the people were jeopardized. The 
residents pointed out that the air was filled with dust particles, that the unfenced and 
abandoned pits were dangerous, and that children had been killed and injured. The 
Planning Commission of the community upheld the contention of the residents, whereas 
the City Council reversed this stand. The lower courts upheld the legislative body., 
refusing to substitute its judgment for that of the council on matters of "substance." 

The interpretation of the general welfare clause is fundamental to all zoning, and 
planning rests upon the thesis that regulation of property use will secure to the 
community numerous benefits. Among others it will lessen congestion on streets,, 
secure greater safety from fire, panic, and similar dangers, promote health by requir- 
ing adequate light and air, prevent overcrowding of the land, avoid undue concentra- 
tions of population, facilitate the provision of adequate transportation, water supply, 
sewage disposal and other basic necessities such as schools, parks, playgrounds, and 
civic and cultural amenities. The preservation and stabilization of property values 
are also important to both individual and community; the more these values are con- 
served, the greater will be the city's income from taxation, and the lower will be the 
tax rate to supply the required services. Blight, obsolescence, and slums are discour- 
aged, the city retains a good "character and appearance," and improvement in the 
physical and moral fiber of the community reduces the need for, and cost of, many 
social services. 

Maintenance of the "general welfare and prosperity" as a reason for imposing 
race restrictions by means of zoning was termed an illegal use of the police powers by 
the U.S. Supreme Court. The property owners sought to prove that the intrusion of 
"nonwhite" families into a "white" district caused a loss of property values and thus 
endangered the prosperity of the community. The court held that the agencies of 
government could not be used to enforce a law which specifically violated the 14th 
Amendment of the Constitution. The courts in many others cases have ruled that 



176 THE PLANNING PROCESS 

financial gains or losses are not, in themselves, sufficient to decide the validity or 
constitutionality of a law. 15 

Tests of the community's right to prescribe the manner of development within its 
boundaries "spread-eagled 59 the courts during the 1920's. In these early days decisions 
were more likely to support the individual against the community welfare, the courts 
being reluctant to take action which would infringe upon property rights. Inexperience 
in the framing of zoning laws was reflected in some phrasing which suggested dis- 
crimination to the courts. The courts hammered at a thesis which has become a 
cornerstone of zoning: to be valid the law must be reasonable and fairly applied, 

As zoning received wider acceptance as a proper use of the police power, a variety 
of features were incorporated in the ordinances. There were efforts to use the law 
as a device to protect the property of the few while permitting the remainder of the 
city to continue unprotected. Occasionally, in concert with the land speculator, prop- 
erty was zoned for a use which would bring the highest price at the moment; 
whether the use was commercial, residential, or industrial was of little concern. A 
weird pattern of "spot" zoning covered the land like a crazy quilt. Purchasers of 
vacant land were informed they could use the land for any purpose they willed, and 
their neighbors were helpless to protect their investments. Efforts of public officials to 
maintain conformance with the "character" of a neighborhood when called upon to 
issue building permits were hotly contested. "Interim Ordinances" were sometimes 
enacted to forbid encroachments upon "fine" residential districts and, although some of 
these were sustained, the courts generally found them invalid because c-f the arbitrary 
nature of their boundaries; the courts viewed the guarantee of a special area from 
detrimental uses as a discriminatory act since the same encroachments were per- 
mitted unchecked elsewhere. 

In all these decisions the courts were actually leading the way toward the planning 
of cities; the courts were appealing for a "comprehensive plan" which would provide 
a foundation for zoning acts and decisions of equity in the shaping and administration 
of these acts. 

Zoning and Community Character. One of the most important legal decisions 
in the history of zoning was the Euclid case 16 in 1926. In his decision, Justice Suther- 
land of the United States Supreme Court pointed out that each community had the 
right and the responsibility to determine its own character, and, as long as that deter- 
mination did not disturb the orderly growth of the region or the nation, it was a valid 
use of the police power. Justice Sutherland stated: 

Point is raised by the appellees that the Village of Euclid was a mere suburb of Cleveland, and 
that the industrial development of the latter had extended to the village, and that in the obvious 
course of things would soon absorb the entire area for industrial enterprise, and that the effect 
of the ordinance was to divert such natural development or expansion elsewhere, to the con- 

15 Smith v. Collison, 119 California Appellate 180, 1931. Depreciation in value of property is not fatal to the 
validity of the ordinance. 

i Village of Euclid, Ohio v Ambler Realty Company, 272 U.S. 365 (1926). 



THE LEGAL FOUNDATION 177 

sequent loss of increased values to the owners of land within the village. But this village, though 
physically a suburb of Cleveland, is a separate municipality, with powers of its own and authority 
to govern itself as it sees fit within the organic laws of its creation and the state and federal consti- 
tutions. The will of its people determines, not that industrial development shall cease at its 
boundaries, but that such development shall proceed between fixed lines. If therefore it is proper 
exercise of the police power to regulate industrial establishments to localities separated from 
residential sections, it is not easy to find sufficient reason for denying the power because its effect 
would be to divert an industrial flow from a course which would result in injury to the resi- 
dential public to another course where such injury would be obviated. This should not exclude 
the possibility of cases where the general interest so far outweighs the interest of the municipality, 
that the latter should not be allowed to stand in its way. 

This decision made it abundantly clear that a community may determine the nature 
of development within its boundaries; it may plan and regulate the use of land as 
the people of the community may consider it to be in the public interest. Justice Suth- 
erland also enunciated another principle: a community is obliged to relate its plans 
to the area outside its boundaries. Again the courts anticipate the planning process. 
Cities are not surrounded by walls, they are each a part of their region and each is 
obliged to plan the spaces within its boundaries as an integral part of the plan for 
spaces outside its boundaries. This suggests, for instance, that a highway plan pre- 
pared without consideration for the routes of major importance within the regional 
plan would constitute an improper use of the police power. A community has both the 
right to determine its character and the obligation to relate its plan to its regional 
environs. 

Enabling Legislation for Planning. The grant of police power by the states to 
the cities and counties vests these political subdivisions with the power to regulate their 
affairs and enforce the regulations. It is nevertheless found necessary on occasion for 
the state to enact legislation for the specific use of that power and such legislation is 
generally termed "enabling acts." Its purpose may be twofold. It may be for the pur- 
pose of affirming the state policy in matters of vital interest to the people at any given 
time and thereby encourage local communities to act, or the special legislation may 
be for the purpose of removing doubt that the police power was intended for the spe- 
cific subject of the act. Such enabling acts are drawn to establish clearly the relation 
between the use for which the police power is granted and the public health, safety, 
convenience, and general welfare, and the preamble states in detail the purposes of 
the legislation. 

Zoning enabling acts are sometimes passed by the state even though cities and 
counties have been previously delegated the police power but are reluctant to exercise 
it until the state has specifically signified that it be so used. These special enabling 
acts are usually written in greater detail than the general grant of the police power. 
In the case of zoning they define the scope of zoning, the procedure for adoption of the 
ordinance, the composition of the zoning board and its powers and functions, the 
methods for modification or exceptions to the ordinance. 

State Planning Acts are a form of special enabling legislation, although they gen- 
erally establish a state agency to co-ordinate planning functions at the state level in 



178 THE PLANNING PROCESS 

addition to the specification for local planning activities. Such acts describe the func- 
tions of a state planning board and prescribe the process for each city and county to 
accomplish a complete planning job for itself. These laws usually call for the prep- 
aration of a General Plan, list the scope of the General Plan, and specify the methods 
for its adoption and enforcement. Power is sometimes given to the local planning com- 
mission to levy a tax upon the general public for funds to administer the law, but this 
power is seldom invoked; planning commissions prefer to work within the departmental 
family of the city government and draw their support from the general tax funds. 

Another form of enabling legislation is that which creates new agencies in the 
state, cities, or counties to cope with problems of a particular nature. Housing and 
urban redevelopment acts are of this type, local agencies being created with powers 
.conferred upon the city or county to engage in the program prescribed in the state 
statute. 

Just as specific enabling legislation is created at the state level to cover certain 
fields of urban activity, so special ordinances are drawn at the local level to define in 
detail the manner in which city charter provisions are to be executed. In cities where 
there is no "freeholders' charter" 17 the state laws are in effect, whereas in cities 
having charters which define the exercise of the police power in stricter terms than 
the state, the local law takes precedence. 18 Thus, if a state speed limit in a school zone 
is 20 miles per hour and the city law restricts the speed to 15 miles per hour, the city 
law is enforceable. If, on the other hand, the city has a limit of 25 miles per hour or 
no regulation at all for those specific areas, the state law is then enforceable. City 
charters often define in terms almost identical to the state enabling legislation the 
functions of a planning commission, and as long as all the duties included in the 
state law are included in terms not less restrictive, the city charter provisions apply. 

Too frequently there is no provision for a penalty for failure to abide by the require- 
ments of state legislation. An example would be the case in which states call for all 
counties to have planning commissions 19 and many small counties ignore the require- 
ment. Since there are few ways to compel the local government to conform, great 
resources are sometimes dissipated without control. In some states the local govern- 
ments are restricted from the benefits of funds appropriated by the state for public 
improvements until they conform with state laws. There are occasions when funds for 
the state highway system are withheld until the counties adopt General Plans for high- 
ways which show the relationship between the state routes and local roads. 

Transition. Since the inception of action against the use of property deemed a 
menace to health and life of neighbors, zoning has passed from the stage of regulating 
land uses for the preservation of property values to the present position of responsi- 
bility, not only for protection of the status quo, but for the creation of a better city, 
better state, and more prosperous nation. It is true that, as zoning becomes a more 

17 An act of municipal incorporation, provided for in the constitutions of the individual states. 

18 Brougher v. Board of Public Works, 205 California 426, 1928. A charter city need not follow the procedures 
of the State Zoning Enabling Act. 

19 State Planning Act, California, 1959. 



THE LEGAL FOUNDATION 179 

effective instrument for improvement of the good city, it becomes less like the tradi- 
tional instrument called "zoning" and more like the act of planning the city, for many 
other factors than those usually identified with zoning enter the scene. 

Recently zoning has become a means for both conservation and planning; the 
narrow concept of zoning is extended to the broadest interpretation of the use of the 
police power for the protection of the public welfare. In these instances zoning law 
anticipates the future and guides the development of areas through planned uses 
rather than waiting until the die is cast and merely fixing land uses that already exist, 
In the cut-over areas of Michigan, Wisconsin, and Minnesota, where erosion threat- 
ened to rip the growing heart out of the soil and create "dust-bowl" conditions, steps 
have been taken legally to label as submarginal the worst of the land. In this way 
use of rural land was discouraged until such time as the top-soil could be replaced 
and refertilized. Further "mining" of trees in the areas not entirely destroyed was 
forbidden and a reforestation program, under the guidance and with the assistance 
of the Federal government, now assures the people of a continuing supply of lumber 
for future generations. Thus the priceless possession of fertile land will not be wantonly 
wasted. The State Zoning Act of 1961 in Hawaii encompasses more than conservation. 
It provides for urban, agricultural, and conservation land-use classifications, and 
requires that tax-assessing authorities be guided by these zoned land uses in establish- 
ing assessed values for real property. 

J. H. Bradley, in his Autobiography of Earth, has stated: "The fabric of human life 
has been woven on earthen looms." We must use every device in our legal system to 
protect our land and devote it to its highest and best uses for we cannot escape to new 
frontiers after abusing and ruining what we have. Almost two centuries ago George 
Washington observed: "Our lands . . . were originally very good; but use and abuse 
have made them quite otherwise. . . . We ruin the lands that are already cleared, and 
either cut down more wood, if we have it, or emigrate into Western country." 20 The 
use of the police power zoning to insure our future seems neither arbitrary nor in 
contradiction of any freedom assured to the people by the Constitution. 21 

Esthetic Standards. The drab, uninspired appearance of our cities approaches 
offensive ugliness. The lack of a long tradition of the arts in society has dulled our 
response to the visual plunder in our surroundings. The grace and charm of a European 
village, a New England town, the delight of Paris, Venice and Vienna, came by way 
of the manners and morals of the time quite as much as by craftsmanship. Our values 
have undoubtedly been contorted by materialism and the sheer preoccupation with the 
practical chores of everyday urban housekeeping. It should not be conceivable in a 
democratic society with balanced cultural values, but improvement of the esthetic 
quality of our cities has been attempted through legislative action. 

In the past, legislative bodies have been reluctant to embody esthetic considerations 

20 To Hold This Soil, Publication No. 321, U.S. Department of Agriculture, 1938 (U.S. Government Printing 
Office, Washington, D.C). 

21 "The Why and How of Rural Zoning," December 1958, U.S. Department of Agriculture. 



180 THE PLANNING PROCESS 

in legislation. Judge; Swayze of New Jersey specifically expressed this sentiment: 
"No case has been cited, nor are we aware of any case, which holds that a man may 
be deprived of his property because his tastes are not those of his neighbor. Esthetic 
considerations are a matter of luxury and indulgence rather than of necessity, and it is 
necessity alone which justifies the police power to take property without compensa- 
tion." 22 

An early step toward esthetic control was directed to regulations against the use of 
billboards along highways. As the advertising mania spread, the extravagant use of 
signs and billboards along the highway reached intolerable proportions. The police 
power was invoked when, in 1905, the Metropolitan Park Commission of Massachusetts 
sought to prohibit signs near a parkway. This regulation was held invalid by the court, 
but, spurred into action, restrictions against the wanton blight of the billboard rash 
gained momentum. In 1935 the same court in Massachusetts supported the use of the 
police power to regulate signs and billboards. 

Although there is precedent for esthetic control in areas of particular historic 
importance, 23 the device of architectural control is usually avoided; the prospect of 
imposing an hierarchy of taste upon a community is approached with caution. Quite a 
different matter was presented to the Supreme Court of the United States in 1954. In 
the unanimous opinion set forth by Justice Douglas, it was clearly affirmed that a 
community need not tolerate ugliness and may take legal steps to correct it: 24 

- . . . Public safety, public health, morality, peace and quiet, law and order these are some of 
the more conspicuous examples of the traditional application of the police power to municipal 
affairs. Yet they merely illustrate the scope of the power and do not delimit it. Miserable and dis- 
reputable housing conditions may do more than spread disease and crime and immorality. They 
may also suffocate the spirit by reducing the people who live there to the status of cattle. They may 
indeed make living an almost insufferable burden. They may also be an ugly sore, a blight on the 
community which robs it of charm, which makes it a place from which men turn. The misery of 
housing may despoil a community as an open sewer may ruin a river. 

We do not sit to determine whether a particular housing project is or is not desirable. The con- 
cept of the public welfare is broad and inclusive. The values it represents are spiritual as well as 
physical, aesthetic as well as monetary. It is within the power of the legislature to determine that 
the community should be beautiful as well as healthy, spacious as well as clean, well-balanced as 
well as carefully patrolled. In the present case, the Congress and its authorized agencies have made 
determinations that take into account a wide variety of values. It is not for us to reappraise them. 
If those who govern the District of Columbia decide that the Nation's Capital should be beautiful 
as well as sanitary, there is nothing in the Fifth Amendment that stands in the way. . . . 

... In the present case, Congress and its authorized agencies attack the problem of the blighted 
parts of the community on an area rather than on a structure-by-structure basis. That, too, is 
opposed by appellants. They maintain that since their building does not imperil health or safety 
nor contribute to the making of a slum or a blighted area, it cannot be swept into a redevelopment 
plan by the mere dictum of the Planning Commission or the Commissioners. The particular uses 
to be made of the land in the project were determined with regard to the needs of the particular 
community. The experts concluded that if the community were to be healthy, if it were not to revert 
again to a blighted or slum area, as though possessed of a congenital disease, the area must be 

22 Passaic v. Paterson Bill Posting Co. 

23 333 Mass. 773 and 7831955. 

24 Berman v. Parker, 348 U.S. 26, 75 Sup. Ct. 98, 99 L. Ed. 27 (1954). 



THE LEGAL FOUNDATION 18 f 

planned as a whole. It was not enough, they believed, to remove existing buildings that were in- 
sanitary or unsightly. It was important to redesign the whole area so as to eliminate the condi- 
tions that cause slums the overcrowding of dwellings, the lack of parks, the lack of adequate 
streets and alleys, the absence of recreational areas, the lack of light and air, the presence of out- 
moded street patterns. It was believed that the piecemeal approach, the removal of individual 
structures that were offensive, would be only a palliative. The entire area needed redesigning so 
that a balanced, integrated plan could be developed for the region, including not only new homes 
but also schools, churches, parks, streets, and shopping centers. In this way it was hoped that the 
cycle of decay of the area could be controlled and the birth of future slums prevented. Such 
diversification in future use is plainly relevant to the maintenance of the desired housing stand- 
ards and therefore within congressional power. . . . 

This decision acknowledged that the visual image of the city stands with other 
features which involve the public interest. It pertained, however, to conditions which 
existed and found that the spiritual welfare of the people was imperiled by these condi- 
tions. It provides a foundation for legislation which employs the police power to 
discontinue such conditions. We apparently have yet to establish means by which such 
conditions may not be created. 

There are two areas in which the public can assert its intentions directly. One is in 
the public domain, some 40 per cent of the city area in streets, walks, parks, and civic 
reserves. Herein is a broad and impressive scope for creative treatment of space 
arrangement, landscaping, street furniture, lighting, signs, and structures. The other 
is in the realm of public regulation of three-dimensional volumes related to com- 
munity design. This involves integrated use of land open space and landscape 
structures, the character of building fronts, advertising media, ingress and egress for 
pedestrians and vehicles, and setbacks related to public rights-of-way. Sensitive 
attention to the formulation of these regulations may accomplish some effective results 
without engagement of "rules of taste." In the final analysis, the creation of beauty 
is the result of a desire that it be produced as well as the talent to produce it, and this 
demands the cultivation of cultural values. 

Planning as a Governmental Function. Planning is accomplished through the 
activities of many agencies and authorities. The number of persons involved and the 
process may vary with different levels of government and with different enabling 
legislation, but the responsibilities are largely similar in most parts of the country. 

The Legislative Role. The role of the legislative body is that of decision on the 
character the city shall aspire to achieve. It activates the Planning Commission, pro- 
vides finances for its staff, approves its membership, and supports its activities through 
regard for its recommendations. Except for the relatively narrow limits reserved to 
administrative determination by the Planning Commission, decisions on all planning 
policies rest with the elected representatives of the people. The legislative body, acting 
upon recommendations of the Commission, translates the plan into action. It may also 
act as a board of appeals on decisions rendered by the Commission, but this function 
is usually assigned to an administrative committee specifically charged with this respon- 
sibility. Policies which direct the shape of the city reflect the capacity of the Planning 
Commission and the stature of the legislative body. 



182 THE PLANNING PROCESS 

The Planning Commission. The planning commission is the legal agency of the 
<;ity through which most planning is performed. In many cities the official family is 
few in number and the planning commission may have no staff, the city engineer or 
clerk being largely responsible for the preparation of all plans. Large cities, how- 
ever, usually have well-staffed organizations of qualified personnel. 

The commission is a group of private citizens appointed by the mayor and approved 
by the city council. These commissioners are leaders in local enterprises, real estate, 
banking, chamber of commerce, or attorneys, architects, doctors, labor representatives, 
.and social workers. It might be assumed that some commissioners, by the nature of 
their background and personal interests, would be devoted to preservation of prop- 
erty values rather than the general community welfare. Although it cannot be denied 
that such has been the case in some instances, it is not infrequently found that men 
with experience in the private business of city building are well qualified to serve 
the public interest and respond accordingly when given positions of genuine public 
responsibility. 

New commissioners are not always adequately informed about the planning proc- 
ess, its purposes or objectives, and they may require some time for training and 
familiarity with the nature of their responsibility. Some cities appoint ex officio 
members to the board of the planning commission to assist the commissioners in their 
tasks. These members may be the heads of various departments of the local govern- 
ment, the city engineer, the road commissioner, the county surveyor, city attorney, 
the public works officer, health officer, or members of the legislative body. They 
advise the commission on matters in which they have special knowledge, but they 
seldom enjoy the privilege of voting upon the proceedings before the commission. 

Exclusive of ex officio members, the commission varies between five and nine in 
number according to the provisions of local charter regulations or the state legislation 
which creates the planning commission; the civic interest and qualifications of the 
members are more important than the numerical quantity. Frequency of commission 
meetings depends upon the extent of the planning program which, in some large 
cities, is sufficiently active to warrant the establishment of a separate commission to 
administer the zoning ordinance. 

The planning commission usually serves in an advisory capacity to the legislative 
body, the council and the mayor referring matters of planning to the commission for 
reports and recommendations which the legislative body may accept or reject. As a 
rule, the preparation of the General Plan and other plans for civic development are 
specified in the enabling legislation which creates the commission, and in such activ- 
ities the commission requires no specific instructions from the legislative body although 
these functions require legislative appropriation of funds for an adequate staff and, 
unless the council is sympathetic to the planning program, it can effectively delay 
the commission's performance. 

Being an advisory rather than an executive agency of the local government, the 
planning commission recommends plans to the legislative body after it has held public 



THE LEGAL FOUNDATION 183 

hearings to ascertain the response and opinions of citizen groups. 25 When a plan is 
adopted by the legislative body, it becomes a law which governs the actions of all 
the people in the community including local governmental agencies. Consequently, all 
city departments are required to refer their plans for specific improvements to the 
planning commission for review and approval. The service performed in the general 
public interest by this coordination avoids duplication of services and cross-purposes 
which can readily occur in the wide range of urban activities. 

Matters which generally fall within the legal responsibility of planning commissions 
are the General Plan, zoning ordinances, and subdivision codes, but the coordinating 
functions are becoming a more important service as the city grows. While the planning 
commission administers the zoning ordinance in most small cities, some large cities 
have a separate zoning administrator and board of appeals. This board is responsible 
for interpretation of the zoning law and such variances from the ordinance as unfore- 
seen conditions may warrant. The planning commission prepares the ordinance, and 
the zoning administrator, or local building and safety department, enforces it. 

Relief from the requirements of the planning policies established by law is pro- 
vided every citizen if the law deprives him of property without just compensation or 
if it is applied in a discriminatory manner. This relief may be obtained by appeal 
to the planning commission and the legislative body. In the event that these appeals 
fail to bring a satisfactory resolution of the case, it may be referred to the courts for 
decision. It is from such cases that the great fund of judicial opinions on the planning 
process have emerged. 

Being an advisory body only, with no legislative powers and with limited adminis- 
trative authority, some persons have questioned the necessity for the Planning Com- 
mission. It has been suggested that a competent planning department should report 
directly to the administrative or executive office and the legislative body. The Plan- 
ning Commission, however, plays a vital role as a catalyst for the variety of interests 
concerned with the objectives and the consequences of planning. Providing a forum 
for deliberation of facts and opinions, the Planning Commission can serve in resolv- 
ing issues and offering to the legislative body a well-defined and supported foundation 
for policy decisions. 

The Planning Department. Organized as one of the official family of government 
agencies, the Planning Commission depends for its effectiveness in large part upon 
the competence of the technical staff in the Planning Department. Whether the 
city charter provides for the Planning Director to report directly to the Mayor or to 
the Planning Commission, the policies finally adopted by the legislative body are 
dependent upon the competence, skill, and enlightenment of the staff in the Planning 
Department. It is the staff which prepares the General Plan, probably the most impor- 
tant single action affecting the future development of the city, and it is the staff which 

25 The State Planning Act, in California, requires both the Planning Commission and the Legislative Body 
to hold public hearings. However, each body may act as it sees fit, regardless of the expressed public sentiment 
or prejudice. 



184 THE PLANNING PROCESS 

formulates the provisions of the zoning ordinance and subdivision regulations. Imple- 
menting the General Plan, it coordinates with other departments of government with 
respect to streets and highways; health, education, and recreation facilities; utilities; 
police and fire protection; and all building and engineering activities. The depart- 
ment cooperates in preparation of the city budget for both administration and the 
capital improvement program. When the staff is endowed with that rare combination 
of vision, technical skill, and administrative talent, it becomes the heart of urban 
government. 

Zoning Board. The variety and volume of improvements in a large city become 
immense and may require an independent board for administration of the zoning 
ordinance. This board renders interpretation of the zoning ordinance applicable to 
specific cases and may provide relief by Variance Permits when wan-anted. Deci- 
sions may be appealed to the Planning Commission, City Council, Appeals Board, or 
court of competent jurisdiction. 

The Appeals Board. As affairs of local government grow in complexity, usually 
proportionate with the size of cities, action on zoning interpretations and variances 
has encouraged the creation of an Appeals Board. This agency has a composition and 
derives its authority similarly to the Planning Commission. It conducts hearings for 
appeals from decisions of the Planning Commission or Zoning Board, and offers 
objective attention to appeals warranting reconsideration. 

The Planning Consultant. A consultant can bring to the Planning Commission 
the advantage of particular experience, judgment, and technical knowledge, but his 
most vital contribution is courage, conviction, and inspiration for the staif and Com- 
mission. His role varies from that of performing in lieu of a full staff in small com- 
munities, to that of expert counsel on planning problems of particular complexity. 
In the performance of his services it is essential for the consultant to work intimately 
with the leaders of the community as well as with government agencies and their 
staffs. This may include participation in public gatherings and hearings on legislative 
proposals, including the adoption of the General Plan. This important policy state- 
ment would thereby enjoy some assurance of favorable acceptance and action in the 
community. It is equally important that the staff be equipped to maintain the planning 
process or arrange with the consultant to serve in that capacity with regularity. 

The Citizen 9 s Role. In many communities the planning program has its most effec- 
tive support from citizen's planning associations or committees. Citizen organizations 
serve as links between professional planners, the legislators, and the general public 
in the development of plans. They assist in shaping planning objectives and, through 
their vigilance, insure the effectuation of the plans. They can perform an important 
function in support of bond issues and other financial programs to secure the amen- 
ities of the plans. In a sense, an active citizen's committee can serve as the conscience 
of the community. 




CHAPTER 11 



THE GENERAL PLAN 



A Comprehensive Plan Is Needed. After the early adventures in zoning prop- 
erty for specific uses it became increasingly apparent that this use of the police power 
to safeguard the public welfare could not stand by itself. The courts had upheld the 
right of a community to exercise the police power in legislating regulations govern- 
ing the use of land. They had granted that a community has the right to determine 
its own character. Great conservative minds like Justice Sutherland had supported this 
right of the citizens, and there was a growing popular acceptance of zoning as a means 
to protect the interests of a community. 

But the courts perceived the necessity for a community to appraise the use of all 
land within its political jurisdiction and give consideration to conditions in areas con- 
tiguous to it in order to determine properly the appropriate uses and provide a firm 
basis for the control of land use prescribed in zoning ordinances. The courts had found 
good reason for this view. They had observed numerous abuses of the police power 
to establish arbitrary and discriminatory districts. There was a tendency to establish 
many small districts as a means to restrain the construction of some particular improve- 
ment or deny a use deemed undesirable in some existing structure, and there were- 
cases in which a zoning ordinance was intended to create or protect a monopoly. 

In order for the courts to have assurance that zoning districts were not arbitrarily 
determined, they required evidence that the various districts were related to an overall 
evaluation of land use in the city. There was a growing insistence upon a "compre- 
hensive plan" for land use to form a foundation for zoning ordinances, and the opinion 
of Justice Sutherland in the Euclid case clearly expressed the need for this evidence. 
In the fulfillment of this need the process of the General Plan was evolved. 

Seeking techniques with which to satisfy the requirement for a comprehensive plan? 
some communities willfully avoided the issue by employing specious devices. One of 
these was the zoning of all land in a community to the least restrictive use with the 
exception of certain limited "refined" districts. A community could thus allege in 
court that it had enacted a comprehensive zoning ordinance since every parcel of 

185 



186 THE PLANNING PROCESS 

land in the city was within a zoning district. Although the statement was true, it was 
not a plan. The other technique was to zone all land not specifically zoned for other 
purposes, as a residential district with the provision for variances from the residential 
use; in the administration of the ordinance each variation was then interpreted as an 
act of making more "precise" the original plan. Neither of these techniques could have 
stood the test for long since they were evasions of the basic principles of planning. 
Too frequently zoning practices resolved themselves into a process of "freezing" 
the existing land uses including all the misuses which had previously established them- 
selves. In some communities, an inventory and classification of all existing land uses 
were adopted as the "Plan" of the city. Travesties on planning, these practices are 
gradually being replaced by a more enlightened concept of planning and its advantages 
to civic growth and development. As a means to provide a pattern for future develop- 
ment of the city, the General Plan has become a generally accepted instrument. 1 

The difference between "comprehensive planning" and a comprehensive plan should 
not be confused. Comprehensive planning may range from the preparation of a series 
of highly specialized studies to an intensive study of a development plan for an entire 
area. The comprehensive plan, however, must include a review of the physical struc- 
ture of a city or planning area, a measurement of development trends, a definition of 
goals and objectives for future growth and change, and specific recommendations in 
the form of maps and charts which delineate the plan and establish standards of density 
and building intensity in support of the plan. 

Purpose of the Plan. The modern city is a complex organism. It is a great human 
enterprise serving the material and spiritual needs of man. It is a segment of the land 
on which the people have selected their places to live and to work, to learn and to 
trade, to play and to pray. It is a mosaic of homes and shops, factories and offices, 
schools and libraries, theaters and hospitals, parks and churches, meeting places and 
government centers, fire stations and post offices. These are woven together by a network 
of streets and transportation routes, water, sanitation, and communication channels. 
To arrange all these facilities properly as the city develops is the function of the 
General Plan. The city is a cumbersome affair, at once sensitive to the multitude of 
small shifts and yet capable of absorbing great shocks. A change in any part affects 
other parts of this structure. A new home means more traffic on the streets, extra mail 
in the postman's bag, another customer in the supermarket, more children in the school, 
more water for the lawn, more picnics in the park, and it means more revenue in taxes. 
But growth does not always mean strength and prosperity for the community. This 
rests with the standards a community determines to maintain and the balanced use of 
its land and resources. 

The term "Master Plan" has been applied to almost every scheme for property 
development from an individual lot to a large estate, a shopping center, or a city. The 
term "General Plan" identifies long-range, comprehensive planning by or for a gov- 
ernment agency as a foundation for overall land development policies within specific 

1 The Master Plan, Edward M. Bassett, Russell Sage Foundation, 1938. 



THE GENERAL PLAN 187 

corporate limits. These terms are interchangeable, but "General Plan" has been adopted 
to distinguish it from the varied nongovernmental applications associated with 
"Master" plan. 

The General Plan is a guide to orderly city development to promote the health, 
safety, welfare, and convenience of the people of a community. It organizes and coordi- 
nates the complex relationships between urban land uses. It charts a course for growth 
and change. It expresses the aims arid ambitions of a community, delineating the form 
and character it seeks to achieve. It reflects the policies by which these goals may be 
reached. It is responsive to appropriate change and, to maintain its essential vitality ? 
is subject to continual review. It directs "the physical development of the community 
and its environs in relation to its social and economic well-being for the fulfillment 
of the rightful common destiny, according to a 'master plan* based on 'careful and 
comprehensive surveys and studies of present conditions and the prospects of future 
growth of the municipality 9 , and embodying scientific teachings and creative experi- 
ence. In a word, this is an exercise of the State's inherent authority, antedating the 
Constitution itself, to have recourse to such measures as may serve the basic common 
moral and material needs. Planning to this end is as old as government itself of the 
very essence of an ordered and civilized society." 2 

The Plan Is a Process. State legislation usually requires the preparation of a 
General Plan and sets forth the scope. A passage from the California Law reads, in 
part: 

"Each Commission or planning department shall prepare and the commission 
shall adopt a comprehensive, long-term general plan for the physical development of 
the city, county, area, or region, and of any land outside its boundaries which in the 
commission's judgment bears relation to its planning. The plan may be referred to 
as the master or general plan and shall be officially certified by the planning com- 
mission and the legislative body." 3 

After the General Plan has been adopted by the legislative body, ". . . no road, 
street, highway, square, park, or other public way, ground or open space shall be 
acquired by dedication or otherwise, and no street, road, highway or public way shall 
be closed or abandoned, and no public building or structure shall be constructed or 
authorized in the area . . . until the location, character, and extent thereof shall be 
submitted to and shall have been reported on by the planning commission." 4 It is 
such statements of official policy that establish the planning process in our cities, and 
it is such statements which have been upheld by the courts of our land because they 
recognize the necessity for a city plan* 

Ladislas Segoe described the General Plan in the following terms: 

The comprehensive city plan or master plan, while it must be thoroughly practical and sound 
economically, must give expression also to other than the purely materialistic aspirations of the 

2 Mansfield & Sweet, Inc. v. Town of West Orange, supra. 

3 Laws Relating to Conservation, Planning and Zoning, State of California, 1959. 

4 Ibid. 



188 THE PLANNING PROCESS 

people of a community. Only then will the plan possess in addition to its influence toward a 
more convenient, efficient economical development the inspirational force that will force civic in- 
terest, devotion and loyalty essential for building better cities. 

The comprehensive city plan or master plan must therefore be first, a balanced and otherwise 
attractive general design best suited to present and probable future needs; second, in scale with the 
population and economic prospects of the community; and third, in scale with its financial re- 
sources, present and prospective. The satisfying of the above criteria calls for the application of 
scientific as well as artistic effort, in order to produce a city plan of attractive form, pleasing 
balance and detail, attuned to the economic and social activities of the community. . . . 5 

It is probably more accurate to define a General Plan as a process rather than a 
conclusive statement. It is a pattern for the physical development of the city, a pattern 
to guide the city builders in locating their investments and measuring the prospect for 
success. It is a design for the physical, social, economic, and political framework for 
the city; it welds the sociological, economic, and geographic properties of the city into 
a structure. 

To suggest that the plan is a fluid process may imply that decisions are not repre- 
sented in it. The plan for a city will be modified as conditions may alter the affairs 
of people from time to time, but a General Plan represents certain decisions of vital 
importance to the welfare of the people and their city. It represents a decision on the 
number of people the city may be built to accommodate; it represents the standards by 
which the city will be developed. It represents decisions on the appropriate relation 
between the uses of land, the relation between the land to be developed for residential, 
commercial, and industrial enterprise. It calls for decisions on the lines of communi- 
cation that link these areas the circulation system. And it represents decisions on 
the plan for reservation of open space throughout the city. 

These are broad decisions, but they are essential to the formulation of a pattern for 
city building. It is upon these decisions that the health of urban development rests for 
they express the aspirations of a community and set the goals toward which the city 
may advance. 

The General Plan has been sometimes regarded as only a reference guide for the 
Planning Commission, being subject to neither formal public hearings nor official 
action by the legislative body. This arrangement appears to avoid the cumbersome 
proceedings which accompany formal action to modify the plan, thus affording maxi- 
mum flexibility at the discretion of the Commission and staff. But it also opens the 
possibility for personal decision-making in response to special pressures. This status 
of the Plan fails to recognize the essence of the Plan itself. Affecting the future of all 
the people and property in the city, the Plan represents the policy which directs future 
growth and development of the city. It is a public policy for protection of the public 
welfare and investment in the urban community. 

This public document has an order of importance which demands that it be subject 
to public response and discussion, thorough consideration by the legislative body, and 

5 Local Planning Administration, Ladislas Segoe, International City Managers* Association, Chicago, 1941, 
first edition. 



THE GENERAL PLAN . 189 

adoption as the official plan. It, and subsequent revisions to it, should be adopted by 
resolution of the legislative body. It serves as the basic frame of reference for all 
administrative and regulatory measures relating to the physical development of the city 
the zoning ordinance, subdivision regulations, urban renewal, the capital improve- 
ment expenditures. The financial solvency of a city hinges upon a program of public 
facilities which maintains a balance between expenditure and revenue. The Plan aids 
in weighing this balance. 

Two basic elements comprise the General Plan: the Plan for Land Use and the Plan 
for Circulation. Each of these elements is supported by complete documentary evi- 
dence, the social, physical, and economic facts and premises from which they were 
derived. 

The Plan for Land Use. This plan designates the areas of the city adapted to 
development for the various urban land uses: residential, commercial, industrial and 
open space. It sets forth the standards for density of land use in terms of population 
or building bulk; it specifies the areas for multiple-residential and single dwellings; 
it defines the areas to be reserved for recreation, conservation, and agriculture. 

This plan establishes the allocation of neighborhood units with their several facilities, 
schools, parks, playgrounds, and shopping. It is the plan which sets the standards to 
guide the city builders in their various enterprises, and a complete plan will be more 
than a single map of the city. It will be a compilation of all the data from which the 
estimates of required areas were calculated and the standards determined. It will 
become a reference for all who are engaged in urban development. 

This plan will chart the relation of the city to the region and indicate its integration 
with its satellite communities, and will define the areas and standards for subdivision 
of new land. This is the plan which forms the foundation for the precise plans for 
zoning, parks and recreation, schools and other public buildings, the civic center, cul- 
tural and sports centers. It is the plan which will guide the city and public utility 
corporations in the design of utilities sewers, gas, water, electric distribution, and 
street lighting. And this is the plan to which all can refer for guidance in determining 
their investments in the city. 

The Plan for Circulation. This is the plan for major highways and streets, routes 
for mass transportation, railroads, airfields, and waterways. It defines the through- 
traffic arteries, freeways, parkways, and their intersections and interchanges. It charts 
the course of rail and bus routes about the city and its environs. It is in this plan that 
all lines of communication are integrated for the circulation of the people and goods 
in and about the urban area. 

This system of circulation will define the boundaries of neighborhood units. The 
street system within this broad framework need be determined only to the extent that 
it impinges upon the through-traffic arteries and mass transportation routes. The inter- 
nal design of the streets could remain unspecified until development is imminent and 
then be made precise. 

As the city develops, this plan will become the reference for improvements and 



190 THE PLANNING PROCESS 

extensions of the circulation system. Precise plans may be made for railroad passenger 
and freight lines, yards, terminals and stations, air terminals and fields, and internal 
helicopter connections. Harbor and waterway development may be guided by this plan 
as improvements are proposed. 

The Plan for Circulation and the Plan for Land Use require integration, and they 
may require occasional modification, but there is no development within one category 
which can remain unrelated to the other. 

Inventory of the Physical Structure. Before any plan can be made, the physical 
structure of the community must be known and understood its rivers, its mountains, 
its plains and prairies, its hills, its climate, the direction of its winds. Is the land 
suited for agriculture, is it good for grazing? Are there oil or mineral deposits, is it 
subject to floods, are there natural or historic features to be preserved? The geology, 
hydrography, meteorology, and geography must be rediscovered beneath the blanket 
of the built-up city. Thus we can comprehend the three primary elements of nature 
without which there is no life; land, water, and air. 

The constant relationship of land, water, and air is necessary to the support of 
human life. One can imagine controlled air conditions, and we know that water can 
be transported from distant mountain sources to semi-arid regions, but the land is 
where you find it. Perhaps it can be built up, the marshes drained, fertility improved, 
and water can increase its growing yield, but land itself must have the basic capacity 
for response to man's treatment and we classify it as good or bad according to its 
fitness to provide life for mankind. 

Because a parcel of land may be suitable for a variety of uses, it is the relationship 
between these uses which becomes the problem of planning. Some uses are favorable 
to each other, whereas some are not only detrimental but dangerous. Recognizing that 
land may have many uses and that the relationship between them is the most important 
consideration, the plan begins with a definition of land uses and the appropriate loca- 
tion within the topographic, geologic, and geographic structure of the city. Upon these 
the city pattern should be developed. 

Inventory and Classification of Land Use. Regardless of the high aspirations 
a people may share for the future of their city or the distant range over which they 
prepare their plans for its development, the planning process must obviously begin 
with the city as it exists. It is consequently necessary to know the way in which the 
land is used and maintain the inventory as a current record. From this inventory the 
physical characteristics of the city are discernible, those which warrant change or 
necessitate retention in the General Plan may be determined, and some existing uses 
may become key controls over the pattern of future land use. 

This prospect is particularly marked by the fact that zoning laws are not retro- 
active, and the transition from an existing land use to another classification may span 
a great number of years. According to Anglo-Saxon theory, if land has never been 
used for a particular purpose it does not constitute a deprivation of property rights 
to deny the right to so use it in the future. On the other hand, it is assumed that zoning 



THE GENERAL PLAN 191 

ordinances must not restrict property to uses considered less liberal than the existing 
use. The courts have held that zoning may not be retroactive, that existing land uses 
may not be "zoned out of existence." They must be permitted to continue as "noncon- 
forming" uses if they are inconsistent with the use the zoning ordinance prescribes. 

This may appear to permit the continuation of a nonconforming use which would 
prove to be a detriment to the surrounding development., like an obnoxious industry 
in a residential zone. The courts have pointed out that other means are available for 
relief from such intrusions; proof that a nonconforming use is a nuisance and dan- 
gerous to the life and health of the inhabitants and the public welfare may be sufficient 
reason for the courts to deny a use to continue. 

Nonconforming uses may not be renewed if destroyed by fire or act of God. In 
such cases the new structure must conform to the provisions of the current zoning. 
In some ordinances a nonconforming structure may be repaired or slightly altered, 
but it may not be modified to the extent that the space or facilities are enlarged, nor 
may a different nonconforming use replace that which is removed. 

Some zoning ordinances specify a period during which a nonconforming use shall 
be retired. This time is equivalent to an amortization period with an established date 
for removal of the structure, the period being related to the years of use already 
experienced in the structure and the investment in it. In this way property values and 
human values may be reasonably balanced, and intruding uses gradually removed 
to be replaced by conforming uses. The logic and equity of such a method would seem 
enough to impel cities to adopt it in the public interest. 

Most cities classify their land in four major categories: agricultural,, residential, 
commercial, and industrial. Each of these broad groups is subdivided into uses rang- 
ing from the most to the least obnoxious, from the most to the least restricted, from 
the most concentrated to the most open. This is generally identified as "step-down" 
classification as it is applied within each of the four broad groups. Thus the general 
industrial classification contains heavy industry and light industry, expressing the 
difference between a boiler works and a tin shop, for example. A large department 
store would be classified in heavy commercial, whereas a neighborhood grocery store 
would be placed in the lightest commercial zone. Likewise, a multistory apartment 
building would be in the least restricted residential zone, whereas a single-family 
detached house is in the most restricted area. 

The number of intermediate steps between the most intense use and the least 
intense will vary in different communities as the complexity of the community may 
warrant. In a very large city there may be as many as fifteen classes of land use, 
whereas in a small town there may only be nine. This difference in the number of 
classifications does not suggest less accuracy in determining the classifications; it indi- 
cates that the manner in which the land is used in a small town is less complex 
than in a large city. The number of classifications should be as few as possible con- 
sistent with a complete coverage of the various uses of land and an accurate description 
of each. 



192 



THE PLANNING PROCESS 



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THE GENERAL PLAN 193 

A city should have a record of the way in which the land within its boundaries is 
used, as well as the quantity of space and structures which comprise it. A periodic 
inventory of these assets should be undertaken just as a well-organized and well- 
administered business maintains an inventory of its stock and the value of it. During 
the depression of 1930-40, land-use surveys in a number of cities were conducted 
under auspices of the Works Progress Administration of the Federal government. 
These data were of immeasurable value to the planning commissions in the respective 
cities, and yet there are few instances in which the records were subsequently main- 
tained in current form. 

A continuous record may be maintained by reference to building permits and the 
tax assessor of the city. Other sources of reference are The Sanborn Insurance Atlas; 
the Building and Safety Department of the city, which records changes in building 
occupancy and alterations that indicate a change in the use of existing structures; the 
Health Department, which maintains data on substandard structures, pest infestation, 
lack of sanitation facilities; and the local housing authority from which information 
may generally be obtained on the physical condition of housing. Banking and lending 
institutions frequently maintain valid information on new building activity. 

The record of urban land use is not for the purpose of only ascertaining the con- 
dition of the physical structure. It provides the information necessary to observe the 
rate at which the city is increasing or decreasing its physical plant in the various clas- 
sifications of land use. It offers a basis for measuring the amount of land to be reserved 
in zoning for future developments of the city, the quantity of land, and the most 
appropriate location for the various uses. 

The land-use inventory is good urban business and should be maintained of cur- 
rent record. It is not a plan; it is part of the vital data from which plans may be made. 

Inventory of Social and Economic Factors. If the data on the nature of the 
physical character of the city seem to be a complicated process, the social and eco- 
nomic facts are even more so. People are not inclined to conceal the manner in which 
they use the land unless an evasion of the law is involved, but they are reluctant to 
divulge their ages, incomes, or personal health; such information is naturally consid- 
ered to be of a personal nature. To plan for the community welfare, however, it is 
important to know about the people who make it and for whom it is intended. 

The principal source of economic and social data is the U.S. Census; included in the 
census are data on family incomes, family sizes, dwelling rent, condition of structures, 
owner and tenant occupancy of structures, years of schooling, age composition, occu- 
pation of the wage earner, and other information. Based upon these data, the Bureau 
of the Census analyzes the spending habits of the various income groups which indi- 
cate the amount in each income group spent for rent, clothes, food, amusement, and 
other living necessities. Much of the latter data is given for the whole city and is 
therefore difficult to relate to the census tracts which are the units in which urban 
statistics are usually tabulated. Housing data in the census are listed by blocks and 
provide a source of information for the land-use survey. 



194 THE PLANNING PROCESS 

Although most public and private local agencies normally assemble only the infor- 
mation on the social and economic structure of the community in which they are 
directly interested, the planning agency may obtain and correlate this special infor- 
mation to form an overall picture. Since the various agencies may interpret similar 
data in different ways, these differences must be resolved by the planners on the basis 
of the best available known facts. 

It is a well-known cliche that anything can be proved with statistics; the corollary 
is that statistics may not prove anything. It is important that they not be misleading. 
As an illustration, the increase in the number of families and the number of houses 
built may be substantially identical and thereby indicate no shortage of dwellings. 
These "pure" numbers mean little as an evaluation of the housing supply in relation 
to the housing need. The number of families formerly "doubled-up," the cost brackets 
of the new residences, the absence of a normal vacancy factor, and the occupancy of 
substandard housing facilities are among the statistics to be evaluated with those on 
the number of families and the housing supply. 

Juvenile delinquency and crime data in the local police and probation department 
files record the location of the incidents and the residences of offenders. Other social 
statistics support as well as guide the preparation of the General Plan and the building 
of a good city. Data on disease and health can be obtained from the health depart- 
ments of the cities, counties, and state, as well as the tuberculosis and health associ- 
ations. Many other private agencies, such as foundations, service clubs, veterans' organi- 
zations, universities and charitable groups, have valuable data. Material on the birth 
rate, death rate, infant mortality, marriage, and divorce rates are other social factors; 
and the rate of population immigration and emigration, the years of schooling, occu- 
pations of the working force, and the cultural inclinations are among the data which 
the planning commission must necessarily correlate objectively. 

Information on the economic development and prospects of the community is usually 
available through the Chamber of Commerce, and these data can be cross-referenced 
with reports by Dun and Bradstreet and the U.S. Department of Commerce, the U.S. 
Department of Labor, State Employment Offices, and local agencies and industries. 
Trends in industrialization and increases in the working force can be traced through 
the U.S. Department of Labor, the State Employment Services, and local industries. 
The trends in the industrial population will have a decided effect on the planning 
process. Data on the earning capacity, the average years of employment, the social 
security structure, types and diversification of employment, and the income groups 
represented in the working population are necessary to calculate the purchasing power 
of the community and the ability to pay rents and taxes. These statistics are important 
as a basis for the General Plan. 

Too frequently the social scientist has been cast in the role of historian of economic 
facts, reporting past trends and current conditions. The economic aspects of planning 
have thus been limited to an inventory of data which presents the status quo. Statistical 
techniques are employed in the projection of population and related fields of impor- 



THE GENERAL' PLAN 195 

tance to planning, but the general effect is a kind of resignation by all concerned to 
the prospects which these projections imply. If planning means anything, it is the 
endeavor to direct future growth and development, being quite the opposite of drifting 
with the currents of unregulated trends. The tools of socioeconomic analysis are there- 
fore essential to seek a balance among the basic urban activities. And this balance may 
require that accepted trends be altered, diverted, or redirected but this is planning. 

The increase in population is a natural phenomenon, and the trend of population 
growth in cities is a consequence of broad economic and social pressures. But, to be 
effective, urban planning cannot succumb to the weight of statistical evidence. 
Survival of the urban population is at stake, and so is the prospect for building decent 
cities. Means may be developed to control the number of people who are born as there 
have been means to lengthen the life span. With the reduction of pestilence and 
famine, means to stabilize the population, short of war, are meager. However, we have 
the means, through planning and legislation, to regulate the distribution of the urban 
population, the amounts of land required for the various functions of an urban com- 
munity, and the standards for the development of the land. To determine the appro- 
priate allocation of land, in amount and location, the economic demands must be 
measured. The physical structure must be arranged to accommodate the facilities 
required for economic survival, and accommodate them in a manner that will produce 
good places in which to live and work. 

The social scientist carries a heavy responsibility for creative analysis of the rela- 
tionships between people and their employment opportunities, the production resources, 
and the commerce and industry needed to support an urban population. The city must 
be built upon a firm economic base or it cannot provide the amenities of a civilized 
community. The future of cities as desirable social environments will depend upon our 
capacity to integrate physical and economic planning. Walter Blucher has stated: 6 
"What is the responsibility of the planning agency for a determination of employment 
possibilities outside of public works? You may not think the planning agency has any 
such responsibility. I don't see how we can do an effective planning job in any com- 
munity, however, unless we know what the population of the community will be and 
what the economic possibilities for that population are." 

Changing Character of Cities. With the assembly of the data previously sug- 
gested that part of the planning process identified as research we learn the nature of 
the existing city. This is the knowledge needed for analysis of the city; from it we learn 
why the city was begun, how it grew, and why it prospered. 

There are reasons why cities are located where they are ; they were important reasons 
in the history of the city and they bear upon its future. They may be important as a 
pattern for the continuous development of the city or they may reveal what changes 
have overtaken the city and thus indicate the new directions for which the city must be 
planned. The reasons for the founding of a city may have multiplied, or they may have 

6 Walter H. Blucher, Executive Director, American Society of Planning Officials, in Planning, 1945, Part I, 
May 16-17, 1945, Chicago. 



196 THE PLANNING PROCESS 

vanished. There may be entirely new purposes for the city than those which moved its 
original settlement. 

The sleepy village of the eighteenth century has apparently little in common with 
the metropolis of today. There may remain reminiscent marks of its historical origin, 
but the functions may have altered completely. As the city grew in size, as the popula- 
tion increased, and as new enterprises developed, the character of the city may have 
altered. Perhaps the quality of community living deteriorated as the city grew from 
a small, intimate town to the unfriendly metropolitan machine it now seems to be. 
Much may have been lost in this process, enough to question whether the city can 
recover the human values by which the living standards of people are measured. 

The changes in urban character reflected in the growth and the deterioration of 
neighborhood life are illustrated in all our cities. It is apparent in a growing metrop- 
olis like Los Angeles. Hardly more than 30 years ago this community was reputed 
for its climate, its recreational opportunities, its beaches, and the grandeur of its 
mountains. The quality of its living environment and the pleasant mildness of its 
atmosphere made this city a haven for travelers from all parts of the world. 

The population of Los Angeles was 500,000 in 1920; in 1960 it was almost 2,500,000 
and the city had spread over the 450 square miles of its area. From its beginning as the 
center of a predominantly agricultural area it has developed an important industrial 
economy. Industrial plants have sprung up with little or no attention to their probable 
effect upon the living conditions of the region and its inhabitants. Water was brought 
more than 250 miles to supply the growing population. Congestion overtook this city 
of "open space," blight and slums are taking their toll, and smoke and fumes taint 
the air. 

This story differs only in degree and detail in all our cities; it is the tale of the 
metropolis. The native advantages of our urban communities have not been respected 
by the people who built them; in the name of a bigger and more prosperous city, they 
have been desecrated and, the people are retreating. The people are fleeing the city and 
it remains neglected, but the same indifference is guiding development on the outskirts. 
Rather than making capital of the native characteristics of a region, exploitation of the 
urban community is undermining its own investments. 

The General Plan of a city or region has two objectives: forestalling the drift into 
chaos in the yet undeveloped areas of the city and gradually reconstructing the devel- 
oped area of the city with particular attention to blighted sections and improved 
circulation. The present chaotic development of the city is a trend, but this trend can 
be corrected and redirected to benefit all the people through planning. 

The changing nature of the city must be appraised and the natural character defined. 
Shifts in the emphasis of the urban economy and the services and functions it performs 
require adjustments in the living habits of the people, the land use, and the transporta- 
tion, if they are to continue as favorable environments in which to live and work. The 
General Plan will reflect these adjustments and thereby become a guide for the future 
growth and development of the community. This demands inquiry into every facet of 



THE GENERAL PLAN 197 

urban existence; it calls for the coordination of a team of trained people and enlight- 
ened and enthusiastic citizens. 

The Plan 1$ Teamwork. Knowledge of the physical structure of the city will 
reveal certain natural uses for the land and existing uses which deserve particular 
respect in the plan. There may be well-established industrial areas, commercial centers, 
residential developments, a great park, waterways, railroads, and historical and natural 
features. This knowledge will also indicate some apparent maladjustments in current 
land use for which corrective measures are obviously necessary. It will also indicate 
an appropriate relation between industrial and residential areas. With these broad 
strokes the General Plan is begun. 

'The city is linked with its neighbor cities and towns and its environs by the highways, 
railroads, and mass transportation facilities; these form the main arteries of circu- 
lation about the city, and they will form the boundaries of the neighborhood units. The 
freeways, parkways, rapid transit and railroads will establish the relation between the 
sources of employment in commerce and industry, and the residential neighborhoods. 

Laid upon this general plan will be the reservations of open spaces, the areas 
adapted for natural parks, or the submarginal lands unsuited for active urban develop- 
ment. In this process the General Plan begins to take shape. 

The General Plan will reflect the local policies on the density of population desir- 
able and consistent with the character of the city in its residential areas, and it will 
indicate the standards for the relation of building bulk and open space in these areas 
and in the commercial districts. Within the broad land-use plan and guided by these 
standards, the precise plans for the various areas of the city may be refined as the time 
for their development approaches. The schools and playgrounds may be located within 
the neighborhood units, and requirements for the local shopping centers may be deter- 
mined. Space may be reserved for the freeways and rapid transit rights-of-way. 
Detailed plans for the improvement of the "downtown" business center may be for- 
mulated, and the reconstruction of blighted areas in the central sections of the city may 
be planned and executed. The General Plan will set forth the appropriate use to which 
the land in the city should be devoted so that the enterprise of city building may have a 
tangible guide in its determinations for investment. 

It takes teamwork to produce the General Plan, a plan that contains the inspired 
will of a people bent upon building a decent and fine city. The decisions emerge from 
the coordinated teamwork of sociologists and economists, statisticians and engineers, 
finance advisors and lawyers, politicians and architects, health authorities and public 
administrators, and public-spirited businessmen and consumers. It takes boundless 
enthusiasm and enlightened civic interest, and it takes a competent staff of trained 
planners to perform the job of coordination and translation. 

The General Plan represents a set of ideals, the aims and ambitions an enlightened 
people hold aloft as standards of civic welfare. These are not easy words to utter 
they have been so frequently ground into grains of dust which settle promiscuously upon 
the motives of men. Yet ideals move people toward deeds of human welfare, and it is , 



198 THE PLANNING PROCESS 

upon such deeds that good cities will depend. If we choose to set aside ideals in city 
building because they have been often branded visionary, we are choosing the course 
of nihilism. If the standards of city building are not founded upon a set of ideals for 
our cities, we will pursue the process of anarchy. It is not therefore amiss to acknowl- 
edge that ideals shall guide the decisions represented in the General Plan. 

Platitudes. Planning is plagued with platitudes. Some familiar expressions have 
almost reached the stature of symbols, the mere mention of which presumably being 
sufficient to convey a significant message. It would be well to examine some of these 
phrases in order to recognize their meaning. 

We frequently refer to the necessity for "flexibility" in city planning. It is suggested 
that city plans must be adjustable to changing conditions, that cities grow like "living 
cells." These are convenient terms and contain much truth. Unfortunately they too 
generally become picturesque phrases. There are some very specific limitations upon 
their value and application. 

A city is more than buildings, streets, utilities, steel, concrete, and glass. Never- 
theless, these are the materials of which the physical structure is made. They are inert. 
They have chemical properties, but they are not elastic. Once in place they cannot be 
shifted about to suit either fancy or "changing conditions." They are static. The width 
of a street does not pulsate with the intensity of traffic flow, nor can a building flex its 
beams and columns. 

In these important particulars the analogy of city building to a "living organism" 
is literary confection. The pictorial similarity between a medieval town plan and the 
cross section of a tree or the veins in the human arm becomes pure poetry. Lifted out 
of the rarified atmosphere of romantic fantasy, "flexibility" means enough space to 
bring the products of industrial genius into useful service in the city structure. 

Cities are inflexible because they are so crowded there is no room for the various 
elements to "work." They are frozen into congestion, and flexibility will be attained 
only through the establishment of adequate standards to guide those who participate 
in building the city. 

There comes a moment when decisions must be made. When that moment arrives, 
there is a degree of finality implied by the act of decision. The structure of the city 
does not float; it cannot be tugged or pushed about. When a building or other civic 
improvement is erected, it is there to stay. Flexibility in the plan of a city will be 
accomplished by standards for city building that preserve enough space for all 
improvements without overcrowding. 

In nearly every kind of business enterprise there is reference to "trends." New 
conditions, scientific development, and social improvement require adjustments in the 
conduct of enterprise. They likewise require adjustments in the city. Shifts in the 
growth of cities prompted by such changes and accompanied by some degree of orderly 
direction serve as a measure of trends in healthy city development. 

But these shifts are confused with quite another sort of change: the urge to escape 
from the contagious disease of obsolescence and unrestrained speculation. Healthy 



THE GENERAL PLAN 199 

enterprise shuns association with derelict neighbors; unbridled physical deterioration 
repels improvement. Shifts in the urban pattern compelled by these desultory forces do 
not mark trends. They report a rout, a desperate and disorderly retreat. Diagnosing 
this disease as a trend is to spread the contagion further, and ignore or misinterpret 
the only value that observation of trends can provide: a guide to the natural and 
appropriate use of land in the growing city. 

Economy is a familiar slogan. It is also a worthy aim. In practice, however, it has 
unfortunately been too frequently reduced to a fiction. Expenditures for civic improve- 
ments are generally decided upon by their budget appeal, not their adequacy. Patch- 
work improvements display such an appeal; they appear to be "economical." The 
question of whether they may actually solve any particular problem is usually over- 
looked or avoided. Economy may really be, and usually is, quite another matter. We 
have seen a street widening prove inadequate almost upon the day it was completed. 
We have seen the immediate need for another improvement added. We have seen the 
value of adjacent land enhanced with each such piecemeal improvement, and new 
buildings erected about it. We have then seen the public forced to pay the added incre- 
ment of land and building "value" each of these improvements has induced. This 
process is characteristic of urban "economy," but it is not economical. 

Each new or improved utility service introduced to a city crowds some equally 
needed service. The utility system sewers, water, gas, electricity distributes the 
energy to operate a city of a million people. Yet these vital veins are, with some rare 
exceptions, buried beneath, or suspended above, the arteries that carry the stream of 
daily traffic. The conflict between these services is experienced day in and day out. A 
utility line breaks down and the repair job stops the circulation of automobiles and 
street cars. These conflicts choke an already congested city and it is not economical. 

"Efficiency" is another ingrown term. Efficiency obviously has virtue; that virtue 
is the elimination of waste. In the name of "efficient" planning, however, there are 
examples of the creation of waste. We have observed acres of subdivisions, planned 
with alleged efficiency, which are actually a waste of the urban resources. We have seen 
the width of a street, the size of a house, or the lot it occupies squeezed to an efficient 
minimum so low it is reduced to nothing more than a cheap commodity. 

In the light of the studies by Sir Raymond Unwin and Henry Wright, efficient plan- 
ning is more than an obsession to save; it is also a method to improve. Standards are the 
measurements by which we must be guided rather than remain content with what 
Elizabeth Denby called "the intellectual pleasure which the architect got from a tri- 
umphant arrangement of inadequate space." 7 

It must be clear that space in a city must first and foremost provide for adequacy; 
it must be ample. 

The measure of adequacy will be the capacity of the space to receive the buildings 
of a city without itself being lost completely. It means enough space so that buildings 
may stand alone or together without violating the sensibilities of those who see and use 

7 Europe Rehoused, Elizabeth Denby, W. W. Norton and Company, Inc., New York, 1938. 



200 THE PLANNING PROCESS 

them. It means that cities will provide space into which the buildings are built rather 
than a solid mass of buildings through which the fissures we call streets are carved. 

The concept of space means a relatively constant limitation on population density 
regardless of the heights that structures may reach. The prospect of squeezing more 
people into the same space creates instability, not only in land value, but in urban 
Services. It imposes an extravagance on the installation of service facilities. Water, 
sewers, gas and electric distribution, telephones, streets, walks, transportation, fire, 
health, educational and recreational facilities cannot be estimated with any possible 
degree of economy. These services must be installed of sufficient size and quantity to 
meet unlimited future requirements, or be repeatedly removed, altered, and replaced 
as the demand may fluctuate. Either course is an extravagant venture as city budgets 
and utility bills attest. 

Within a reasonable concept of space in the urban environment is the room for the 
vehicles of transportation to circulate with ease and safety. This means enough room 
to separate the different types of vehicles and the direction of their travel; room 
enough to move about on the surface of the earth rather than burrow into the ground 
with subways. This means the city will no longer be a maze of streets and alleys slicing 
through a solid bulk of buildings. 

This concept means that parking space for the free-moving vehicles of our con- 
temporary age shall be a component part of all floor space provided within or adjacent 
to buildings, and it means that this integration will bring the relation between open 
space and building floor area into some degree of balance. 

There will be enough room for all the essential utility conduits, a network of vital 
service arteries so aligned within their respective rights-of-way that interference is 
avoided at all times. 

This concept of space means room enough for people to walk in safety and some 
degree of beauty; trees would not be unwelcome. Finally it means an environment in 
which the human spirit can rise above mediocrity; it means relief from the din and the 
danger that fray the human nerves and dull the human mind. 

It may be suggested that the concept of space within the city described above is not 
a "practical" one. The planning of cities is rather cluttered with bromides, but hardly 
any is so overworked as "practical." Compromise is the inevitable road to satisfactory 
human relationships. The capacity to compromise is a requisite to accomplishment. 
It implies, however, that an objective is clearly defined. The objective of planning is 
the solution of a problem; in city planning the problem is that of an environment that 
is rapidly disintegrating under the spell of congestion and ugliness. 

Opinions may vary as to the way in which to arrive at the objective of decent cities, 
but no purpose is served until some area of agreement can be reached about the nature 
of the objective itself. Solutions call for ideas. They deal in ideas. Ideas are the tools 
with which we shape an objective, and they cannot be dismissed only because they may 
at first appear "impractical/* We see about us the results of thus being "practical"; 
we see these results repeated time and again : more congestion, tnore traffic problems. 




o 

1 



8 




202 THE PLANNING PROCESS 

more deterioration, more expense, and boundless confusion and bewilderment. If we 
peer behind this scene, we may well find the reason: the process of planning began 
with a compromise. The ideas that are the stuff of progress never reach the surface 
where they may be observed and tested for their validity. 

Nor is this approach really practical. The first test of practicality is whether a thing 
"works." Can it be claimed that our cities work? Is traffic congestion practical? Or the 
crowded business centers? Or the blighted areas and slums? Are the extravagant 
devices for parking automobiles overhead and underground practical? Is the 
mediocrity of the living and working environment, and the obsolete transportation in 
our cities really practical? Is it practical to spend huge sums on surveys, consultation, 
and plans, then ignore them all? The urban malady of congestion is like the itch: 
scratching produces a sensation of relief. But common sense tells us the only practical 
treatment is a cure, not more irritation. 

Must it be considered impractical to propose standards which have as their sole 
purpose a restoration of permanent values in the urban environment? Ample space for 
London was rebuked by F. J. Forty, Chief Planner for the rebuilding program, with the 
words, "I want it [London] to be the leading place of commerce in the world and not 
as some planners suggest a park." 8 Must this be the interpretation of the need for 
adequate space within our cities? The original plan proposed for the City of London, a 
plan that offered little improvement over the city that was destroyed, was commented 
upon by Donald Tyerman in the Observer as "timid rebuilding proposals." He said, 
"The makers of this plan are not planners but pessimists." 9 

We might hark to the words of Lewis Mumford: 

"As so often has happened during the last quarter century, the self-styled practical 
men turned out to be the weak, irresponsible dreamers, afraid to face unpleasant facts, 
while those of us who were called dreamers have, perhaps, some little right now to 
be accepted at least belatedly as practical men. By now history has caught up with 
our most dire prophecies. That is at once the justification of our thinking and the proof 
of its tragic failure to influence our contemporaries." 10 

8 Architectural Forum, September 1944. 

9 Ibid. The plan to which Mr. Tyerman referred was that proposed for the mile-square "City" of London by 
the Improvement and Town Planning Committee. 

w Architectural Forum, May 1945. 




CHAPTER 12 



THE ZONING PLAN 



The Precise Plans. The General Plan sets the basic policies for development of 
the city, the general relation between the various land uses residential, commercial, 
and industrial and forms the framework of the urban structure. From time to time 
this general framework is translated into precise plans which specify the zoning for 
land use, streets and highways, mass transit, recreation and conservation, subdivision 
expansion, utilities, railways and airports, civic centers, schools, and urban redevelop- 
ment. The precise plans interpret the basic policies for urban development reflected in 
the General Plan and serve to adjust the Plan to new situations and conditions as they 



arise. 



The precise plans serve a dual function. On one hand, they define the standards for 
development of the city, the standards of population density, the design of the circu- 
lation system, and the amount and location of open space and physical facilities for 
business and residence. On the other hand, the precise plans provide a program for 
development, a basis for timing proposed improvements in the city, the location, 
design, and installation of utilities, schools, parks, the extension of subdivision develop- 
ment, and the redevelopment of blighted areas. Thus, the need for public improve- 
ments may be geared with the ability to finance such improvements and maintain a 
coordinated pace with expansion of private development. 

These functions presume continuous attention to the process of urban planning. A 
General Plan which collects dust in the archives of the city hall is a monument on the 
grave of lost opportunities in urban improvement. Planning is a process which antici- 
pates the needs of a community, proposes ways and means for the satisfaction of these 
needs, and relates these proposals to the orderly development of the city and realiza- 
tion of the General Plan. The precise plans are the instruments with which these func- 
tions are performed. 

Zoning Defined. Zoning is the legal regulation of the use of land. It is an applica- 
tion of the police power for the protection of the public health, welfare, and safety. 
The regulations include provisions for the use of property and limitations upon the 

203 



204 THE PLANNING PROCESS 

shape and bulk of buildings that occupy the land. The law comprises two parts: the 
ordinance in which the regulations are defined, and the zoning map which delineates 
the districts within which the provisions of the ordinance apply. 

Zoning is not a substitute nor an alternative for the General Plan. The General Plar 
expresses the basic policies which shape the community character, the general lane 
use, circulation, and relationships among the variety of urban facilities. The zoning 
plan establishes the specific limitations which apply to the use of land as an instru 
ment for achieving the goals set forth in the General Plan. Serving as a comprehensive 
guide for urban development, the General Plan is usually adopted as a resolution by 
the legislative body. The zoning plan is adopted and rendered effective as a legal 
ordinance. 

Validity of the zoning ordinance has been subjected to several tests by the courts, 
whose decisions have generally supported the following criteria: 

1. The plan shall be comprehensive. 

2. The same regulations shall apply to all districts having similar zone classifica- 
tions. 

3. The plan shall demonstrate protection of public health, welfare, and safety. 

4. There shall be no discrimination nor capricious intent in the plan. 

5. Administration of the ordinance shall be reasonable and free from arbitrary 
decisions. 

Zoning Procedures. Complications inevitably arise in the administration oi 
zoning, and procedures must be provided to cope with them. These situations may 
involve natural or man-made conditions of the land, unusual demands not evident 
when the ordinance was adopted, or developments in which the exacting limitations of 
zoning do not accommodate reasonable latitude for the adaptation of new ideas. 

The Zone Change or Amendment. The most frequent alterations occur when property 
owners request a change for the classification of their properties from one zoning 
district to another, usually for the purpose of enjoying greater economic values from 
the use of their land. Changes on the Zoning Map should be made only when such 
changes conform to the General Plan. Otherwise they may, while being beneficial to 
an individual, be detrimental and costly to the community in terms of the effects on 
utilities and public facilities. 

Amendments to the text of the ordinance are also made quite often. These amend- 
ments include changes in terminology; inclusion or deletion of certain uses; changes 
in standards, either raising or lowering them; and changes in procedures. 

Regardless of whether the map or the text are modified, the procedure requires 
public hearings and discussions prior to any changes becoming effective. The pro- 
cedure is generally identical with that required for the adoption of the original 
ordinance. 

The Zoning Variance. A variance is a permission granted as relief from some 
specific and unusual hardship imposed by the strict interpretation of the ordinance. 



THE ZONING PLAN 205 

It is a means to adjust the property development standards of the ordinance which, by 
reason of specific location, topography, shape, or size, are impossible to comply with. 
The variance permits a property owner to use his land at the same intensity allowed 
others in the same zone; it should not allow uses not permitted in the zone. Being 
readily subject to discriminatory administration and unsound planning, the variance 
is perhaps the most abused of all zoning procedures. It is not an alternative to "spot" 
zoning or a device to circumvent the intent of the ordinance by a grant of special 
privilege, nor is it a means to solve personal problems. The following advice by a high 
state court, in its review of a case involving rezoning, brings the issue into clear focus: 1 

We feel impelled to express briefly our view of the proper theory of zoning as relates to the 
making of changes in an original comprehensive ordinance. We think the theory is that after the 
enactment of the original ordinance there should be a continuous or periodic study of the devel- 
opment of property uses, the nature of population trends, and the commercial and industrial 
growth, both actual and prospective. On the basis of such study changes may be made intelli- 
gently, systematically, and according to a coordinated plan designed to promote zoning objectives. 
An examination of the multitude of zoning cases that have reached this court leads us to the con- 
clusion that the common practice of zoning agencies, after the adoption of an original ordinance, 
is simply to wait until some property owner finds an opportunity to acquire a financial advantage 
by devoting his property to a use other than that for which it is zoned, and then struggle with the 
question of whether some excuse can be found for complying with his request for a rezoning. The 
result has been that in most of the rezoning cases reaching the courts there has actually been spot 
zoning and the courts have upheld or invalidated the change according to how flagrant the viola- 
tion of true zoning principles has been. It is to be hoped that in the future zoning authorities will 
give recognition to the fact that an essential feature of zoning is plannifig. 

Conditional Use Permit. There are occasions when a special "use" is necessary for 
the welfare of a community, but not permitted within the applicable zone. Permission for 
such uses may be granted by the Conditional Use Permit. Unlike the variance, evidence 
of unusual hardship in the development of a property is not required. The Conditional 
Use is for the purpose of meeting a special need of the community based upon evidence 
that the proposed location will serve this special purpose. Protection from adverse 
effects on abutting property must be assured and measures for this must be included in 
the Permit. As with the Variance, the Conditional Use is not a substitute for rezoning. 
It is designed to meet a special situation in the public interest; it is not a device by 
which a new use may be indiscriminately introduced within an established zoning 
district. The zoning ordinance does not usually provide for a variety of sharply defined 
uses within a district, and the Conditional Use offers a degree of flexibility in adjusting 
to new demands within the framework of the ordinance. 

There remains a difference of opinion on the manner in which a Conditional Use 
Permit should be granted. Some authorities hold it to be essentially an administrative 
decision at the discretion of the Planning Commission. Others contend that it should be 
subject to approval by the legislative body. It is generally agreed that the ordinance 

iFritts v. City of Ashland, Court of Appeals of Kentucky [highest court], June 16, 1961, 348 S.W. 2d 712, 
quoted from Zoning Digest, October 1961, American Society of Planning Officials. 



206 THE PLANNING PROCESS 

should clearly stipulate the circumstances and indicate the areas under which Condi- 
tional Use Permits may be granted as a protection to investors in property. 

Administrative Committees. Zoning ordinances contain a variety of provisions, com- 
pliance with which may require some form of review and approval. Among these may 
be the location and size of signs, or engineering and architectural design and arrange- 
ment. The ordinance may therefore provide for Administrative Committees vested 
with the responsibility and authority to pass upon plans subject to these provisions. 
Such committees are particularly effective when both public officials and lay persons 
comprise their membership. 

Zoning Districts. In the zoning plan the community is divided into districts in 
which the land is restricted to certain classified uses. The size, shape, and location of 
these districts reflect the major uses indicated by the General Plan and should be 
formed to invite the natural development of neighborhoods. The General Plan may 
indicate an area to be appropriate for single-family dwellings, whereas the zoning plan 
may permit a commercial use within specified limits to be developed as a shopping 
center and contribute to the neighborhood quality of the area. A site for a school and a 
park may also be provided within such an area. Such developments of the precise plans 
are refinements of the General Plan, their purpose being the creation of balanced 
community design. 

Most zoning ordinances provide for different densities of population in different 
districts. One residential district may permit only single-family houses with a density 
of five families per acre, whereas another district may permit "unlimited multiple 
residential" use in which the density can reach hundreds of people per acre. These 
variations in population density must be reflected in other precise plans for the city 
since they affect the provisions of all community facilities and services. The size and 
location of schools, commercial land use and transportation, police and fire protection, 
and the size of utility services vary considerably with the number of people to be served. 

The following description of land uses indicates the variety of districts which may 
appear in the zoning ordinance. The classification of these districts will differ in 
various communities, and local customs and requirements will determine the definition 
of each classification: 

Open Land Districts. This classification of land use, though not included in most 
ordinances, applies to areas in which the public interest requires the prohibition or 
restriction of urbanization to protect or enhance reasonable growth and development 
of the community. Open land districts may include areas of particular scenic or 
historic importance, areas too steep to be built upon, areas subject to flooding, and 
areas where water and sanitary facilities or police and fire protection cannot be pro- 
vided without excessive cost to the community. 

Agricultural districts permit the use of land consistent with economically feasible 
agricultural enterprise, the subdivision of land being governed by the type of agricul- 
ture normal to the area. Agricultural districts about some urban areas may establish 
minimum lot areas of 40, 20, 10, 5, and 2 acres, while some include one-acre lots in 



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this classification. Uses considered generally permissible in this type of district include 
farming, poultry-raising, dairying, and cattle and horse grazing. Restricted residential 
uses may also be permitted provided the agricultural uses are not adversely affected. 
Hog raising may be prohibited in some agricultural zones because it is generally inter- 
preted as an obnoxious use. There are usually provisions in the zoning ordinance for 
exceptions by special permit if an investigation of the particular situation demonstrates 
no prospect of endangering the general welfare. 

Estate districts are sometimes created to provide property owners the opportunity 
to establish a character of residential development measured primarily in terms of 
large-size lots. In some suburban areas it is desired to develop a rural quality, and 
the estate zone is for such a purpose. This is generally the most restricted residential 
zone, the minimum lot sizes ranging from 20,OOO to 40,000 square feet or more in area. 
Some "agricultural" uses are frequently permitted in this zone, like poultry for 
domestic consumption or saddle horses, Estate zones are usually established at the 
behest of the property owners or developers \vho desire to attract clientele wishing 
reasonably large tracts protected from the infiltration of small-lot subdivision. Other 
factors sometimes warrant the establishment of estate zones; when facilities for sewage 
disposal are absent or limited, or "where police and fire protection are not readily 
available, or community facilities such as schools or commercial districts are remotely 
situated, it may be advisable to limit the population an area is permitted to accom- 
modate. 

Single-family districts are zones in which the land use is restricted to a single dwell- 
ing unit per lot. The zoning ordinance establishes a minimum lot area permitted in 
these zones and frequently specifies the minimum lot width. The standards vary con- 
siderably, some cities still permitting lot widths of 25 feet street frontage, but a width 
of 60 feet or more is being accepted in most communities as the minimum, with a 
minimum lot area of 6,000 square feet. Such restrictions are not retroactive, and 
property owners are not obliged to comply with area and lot size regulations enacted 
subsequent to the recording of subdivisions "with lesser restrictions. 

Multiple-Family Districts. This classification applies to any residential district in 
which more than a one-family dwelling is permitted to occupy a single lot. A gradation 
of dwelling densities is usually provided within this classification. 

Two-Family Districts. This classification has been rather generously used in the 
past to permit the "duplex" type of dwelling, i.e., two dwelling units within a single 
structure. With the increasing use of density control rather than classification of 
building type, a provision which specifies the density, such as a minimum lot area 
per dwelling unit, is more equitable than a limitation of two dwellings per lot. 
Application of a uniform density provision offers a desirable flexibility for lots of 
varying size, rather than freezing the limitation regardless of the lot area. 

Medium-Density Districts. The density permitted in this classification will be quite 
different in a great city than in a small tovm. In large cities a medium density 
ranges from 20 to 40 dwellings per net acre. It may be prescribed as four times the 



THE ZONING PLAN 209 

density of the single-family district. If the minimum single-family lot area is 6,000 
square feet, the medium density would then require 1,500 square feet of lot area 
per dwelling. Some communities permit a lot area as low as 1,000 square feet per 
dwelling in this district. 

High-Density Districts. Densities ranging from 50 to 150 families per net acre 
are not uncommon in large cities, and 200 to 300 families per acre are permitted in 
some laws. With the increasing congestion of traffic and intensity of the parking 
problem, zoning ordinances are due for a critical review of these high densities. 
The classification may be defined as a multiple of the minimum single-family lot 
size. Assuming a density standard of some 50 dwellings per acre and a minimum 
lot size for the single-family district of 6,000 square feet, the high-density district 
would permit about eight times the single-family density, or about 750 square feet 
of lot area per dwelling unit. Some ordinances further grade these requirements 
according to the size of the dwelling apartment. Thus 300 square feet of lot area 
may be permitted for "bachelor" units, 400 square feet for one-bedroom units, 600 
square feet for two-bedroom units, and 800 square feet for three-bedroom units. 

Mobile-Home Districts. The mobility of the population in this country is demon- 
strated by the expanding use of the "trailer" as a relatively permanent dwelling 
type. It possesses unique characteristics and plays an important role in the housing 
supply in moderate climates. The essential amenities for this mode of living should 
be regulated in zoning ordinances. Well-designed mobile-home "parks" accom- 
modate a density of between 10 and 15 trailer units per acre, or 2,500 to 4,000 
square feet of ground space for each unit. The Federal Housing Administration 
standards and the recommendations of the Mobile Homes Association support the 
lesser density as the desirable space requirement. 

Hotel Districts. The density and lot area requirements for hotels are the least 
restrictive of the residential zones, except in areas where the particular character of 
the environment warrants special attention to density. Hotels may also be included 
in the provisions for Commercial Districts. With the exception of limitations upon 
setbacks for side, rear, and front yards, there has been little control of density in 
these districts, but reconsideration of hotel densities is as urgent as high-density 
apartment and commercial zones. 

Commercial Districts. The complex structure of the modern urban community has 
introduced changes affecting the arrangement of commercial facilities as it has in other 
land uses. The "mamma and papa" grocery store has blossomed into the neighborhood 
convenience center, the expanding suburbs have forced the decentralization of retail 
enterprise and the development of the regional shopping center. The destiny of "down- 
town" hangs in the balance. Special service facilities, ranging from professional offices 
to light manufacturing establishments where commodities are also sold across the 
counter, must be accommodated within the fabric of commercial zoning regulations. 
Consideration of the relation between these several commercial functions and other 
land uses must be reflected in the General Plan as a foundation for the zoning plan. 



210 THE PLANNING PROCESS 

Excessive land area and permissible floor space, typical of present zoning, is related to 
traffic congestion and the parking problem. Transition from the burden of "strip" 
zoning for business uses along the major streets to the consolidation of commercial 
centers will be an arduous task and require a long period of time. The shopping center 
has confirmed the necessity and provided the impetus for this conversion in the pattern 
of commercial land use. 

Industrial Districts. This classification ranges from the most restricted uses for 
"light" industry, in which electric power only may be employed or in which smoke, 
odors, and sound are rigidly controlled, to the unrestricted "heavy" industrial areas 
in which any type of manufacturing enterprise or process is permitted. Certain indus- 
trial uses which may endanger the public are frequently restricted to specific areas, 
whereas still others may require special permits by legislative action in order to con- 
duct business. The manufacture of fireworks or fertilizer, or the dumping of refuse and 
garbage, may be confined to areas at least 500 feet from other unrestricted uses. 

The manner in which operations are conducted, rather than the type of the industry, 
is the basis for classifying industrial districts in recent ordinances. The adoption of 
"performance standards" may obviate the need for arbitrary distinctions between 
"light" and "heavy" industry and provide a more rational utilization of industrial 
land. It could also become a means for closer integration between places of employ- 
ment and places of residence. 

Performance standards prescribe regulations for control of smoke, odor, glare, 
vibration, dust, sound, radiation, water or sewer pollution, moisture. They are enforced 
through the measurement of the effects of plant operation at prescribed points. 

The "industrial district" has acquired an unsavory association with run-down hovels 
in the shadow of the factory. The successful development of the planned Industrial 
District, or Industrial Park, has therefore been a singular advance in planning. The 
intensity of land use identified with the crowded workshops of the past is relieved in 
the Industrial Park. A density of some 30 to 50 workers per acre is not uncommon in 
industrial areas, but the density in Industrial Parks ranges between 15 and 20 per 
acre, with areas of heavy industry having less than 10 workers per acre. Regulations 
prescribe restrictions on building height, space between buildings, setbacks from 
property lines, signs, off-street parking and loading, and landscaping. 

The reservation of Industrial Parks for the exclusive use of industry encourages the 
planned integration of residential communities, with mutually beneficial results: 
efficiency in industrial operation and convenience to employment in a desirable resi- 
dential environment. 

PERFORMANCE STANDARDS FOR INDUSTRY 2 

A. Fire and Explosion Hazards 

All activities involving, and all storage of, inflammable and explosive materials shall be pro- 
vided with adequate safety devices against the hazard of fire and explosion and adequate fire- 

2 This material is derived from the zoning ordinances of the Cities of New York, Chicago, Denver, and others, 
and critical analyses of this type of regulation by the Urhan Land Institute and the American Society of Planning 
Oificials. 



THE ZONING PLAN 211 

fighting and fire-suppression equipment and devices standard in industry. All incineration is pro- 
hibited. 

B. Radioactivity or Electrical Disturbance 

Devices which radiate radio-frequency energy shall be so operated as not to cause interference 
with any activity carried on beyond the boundary line of the property upon which the device is 
located. Radio-frequency energy is electromagnetic energy at any frequency in the radio spectrum 
between 10 kilocycles and 3 million megacycles. 

C. Noise 

The maximum sound pressure level radiated by any use or