August, 1911 
HOUSE AND GARDEN 
85 
is anything more beautiful than this form of garden to be found. 
The location of a pool is, after all, the crucial thing which 
must determine its form and everything about it. If its place 
is to be among natural conditions, make it natural; but unless it 
can be absolutely natural in every respect—in its surroundings 
as well as in itself and its planting—treat it formally and as a 
part of a composition. Every body of water should be dealt with 
often helps to- this end very successfully. Where such an area 
exists, excavation may be all that is needed to turn it into a pool. 
But where there is neither a stream nor a bog. artificial con¬ 
struction with water piped from the nearest source may of course 
be resorted to. Here, and here alone, is the “natural” form per¬ 
missible in artificial construction on a large scale, because here 
all the surrounding conditions are naturalistic. But to be a suc- 
The distinctly formal garden can hardly be counted complete without its pool and fountain. In the garden of Bellefontaine at Lenox, Mass. 
Carrere & Hastings, architects 
fUf 
pc 
Ijl 
according to this standard, from the smallest pool occupying a 
dooryard-garden up to the most pretentious. Never place even 
a tiny basin aimlessly in the midst of open lawn, for located thus 
its meaning is lost completely, whereas as the central feature — 
the leading note—of a garden composition, the tiniest pool takes 
on dignity and interest. 
Attempts to make the form and appearance of a pool of this 
kind anything but formal are foredoomed to dismal failure, the 
result of such attempts being merely a meaningless irregularity 
that is a blatant discord in the harmony of outdoors — and that 
deceives no one. For irregularity, alone and by itself, is not 
nature by any means — and in any event the natural form belongs 
only to the natural environment. Where the garden affords this, 
the natural pool, artificially made on a fairly large scale, is of 
course delightful. 
1 he simplest of these is acquired by the damming of a stream 
or brook, and this treatment of a watercourse, especially one 
that tends to dry out during summer, is always desirable. Where 
there is no watercourse, however, it is not so easy to indulge a 
fancy for a “natural" body of water, though a low, bog spot 
cess it must be studied very carefully and worked out with great 
skill; nature is elusive. 
The contours of the ground for a very great distance around 
must, in the first place, suggest it — that is, they must fall gently 
towards it from every direction—and the marginal growth must 
also be in keeping with it. Great attention must be paid to mar¬ 
gins, too. Nowhere do we ever find a natural pond with a stiff 
and sharply defined margin all around it. There are gaps and 
breaks—interruptions in the marginal growth as well as inter¬ 
ruptions in the open spaces that lead right down to the water’s 
edge. Take note of these and plant accordingly — and never, 
under any circumstances, allow a line of stones or cement or any 
sort of building material to show at the edge of a pond that is not 
of formal design, formally placed. Copy Nature exactly — or 
else do not take her for a model at all. I would suggest finally 
that an artificial pool of such elaboration should not be under¬ 
taken until the cost, in every sense, has been well counted. 
All pools should be in the open, if they are anything more than 
a basin among rocks — for the sun should shine upon the water 
and the sky reflect in it. Reflecting light, the water doubles 
