The Anatomy of Melancholy

Provisions can be obtained elsewhere, and our towns are generally larger in woodland than in open-field country, more numerous and populous; gentlemen take more pleasure in living in such places. Sutton Coldfield in Warwickshire, where I was once a grammar-school pupil, may be sufficient evidence. As Camden notes, it stands “in an unpromising and barren place,” but enjoys excellent air and every kind of pleasure. Wadley in Berkshire lies in a valley. Though its soil is less fertile than that of some valleys, its situation is most convenient and healthy, with delightful air: a rich and pleasant residence.

So Seagrave in Leicestershire, a town I am now obliged to remember, stands in open country at the edge of the Wolds and is more barren than the surrounding villages; yet scarcely any place is likely to offer better air. And the builder of that fine house, Wollaton in Nottinghamshire, deserves much praise for choosing such a site, though the surrounding land is sandy and barren.

Constantine, in book 2 of his work on agriculture, praises mountains, hilly and steep places, especially those beside the sea, and sites facing north over some great river: such as Foremark in Derbyshire on the Trent, surrounded by hills and open only to the north; or Mount Edgcumbe in Cornwall, which Mr Carew so much admires as an excellent residence. Such, too, is the general situation of Bohemia: “Boreas clears the sky”; the north wind makes the air clear.

But he utterly disapproves of sites near lakes or marshes, in hollows or dark places, or facing south and west: those winds are unhealthy, cause putrefaction, and make people liable to disease. According to him, the healthiest building stands on high ground with an excellent view, like the house at Cuddesdon in Oxfordshire, which I must mention as a mark of honour. It has lately been handsomely built, with good air, a good view, and good soil, for both profit and pleasure: a combination not easily matched.

Pietro de’ Crescenzi, in book 1, chapter 5 of his work on agriculture, discusses this subject at great length: how a house should be placed for health, with a good exposure, good air, favourable winds, and so forth. Varro, On Agriculture, book 1, chapter 12, forbids sites by lakes and rivers, on marshy and cultivated land: they cause bad air and severe diseases, difficult to cure. If the situation cannot be remedied, he advises, it is better to sell your house and land than lose your health.

Anyone who disregards this when choosing a residence or building a house is “out of his mind”—mad, Cato says—and his dwelling is next door to hell itself, according to Columella. In conclusion, he recommends a site halfway down a hillside. Giambattista della Porta, in Villa, book 1, chapter 22, assesses Varro, Cato, Columella, and those ancient writers on farming. He approves much, rejects some things, and insists that the front of a house should face south. How this can be good in Italy and hotter climates I do not know; in our northern countries I am sure it is best.