Homes that Architects Have Built for Themselves 
“WYCHWOOD,” THE HOME OF JAMES C. HOPKINS AT DOVER, MASS., A 
REMARKABLE INSTANCE WHERE A HOUSE AND GARDEN GREW TOGETHER 
by Harold Donaldson Eberlein 
M OST folk simply inhabit houses. A far smaller number, by 
comparison, live in homes. 
There is a vast difference, when one really comes to think of 
it, between a house and a home. The distinction is by no means 
an idle splitting of hairs without actual basis. A house may be 
any sort of dwelling from a mud hut to a marble palace. It, also, 
may be a home. But here is the distinction. The mere fabric of 
an abode is a house. It is purely impersonal and devoid of senti¬ 
ment. A home is a house and something more besides. It is a 
house plus the accessories of comfort, convenience and good taste 
that only intelligent and sympathetic human occupancy can invest 
it with, and, above all, it is instinct with expression of the per¬ 
sonality of those that dwell in it. 
The house and garden now before us—they are so inseparably 
connected that it is quite impossible to speak of one without the 
other—belong to the second category and well exemplify the in¬ 
vestment with that atmosphere of human personality which un¬ 
mistakably stamps the home and imparts an individual character. 
Through their own abodes architects are, or should be, our ex¬ 
emplars in making homes as well as our guides in building 
houses. Because “Wychwood” is distinctly successful in both 
respects, it is worth examining closely to see how the architect- 
owner has succeeded in accomplishing this dual desideratum.. 
The site in large measure suggested the house. At the edge of 
a strip of thick woodland the ground fell away with a gentle slope 
to the south and southwest. From this spot at the wood’s margin 
there was a long view to the northeast over open fields, stone¬ 
walls and rolling hills. To the southwest, the eye commanded 
a still more distant view over undulating country where farms, 
interspersed with woodland, gave the landscape varied interest. 
Down the slope to the south, the prospect was agreeably bounded' 
about a quarter of a mile away by a picturesque white farmhouse- 
overshadowed by elms. An old apple orchard stretched off in the 
rear. 
The woodland provided protection on the northwest and north 
and broke the violence of the winter's winds. The sunny slope- 
to the south and southwest was the very place for a garden. The- 
extended outlook in several directions suggested the exposure for 
the rooms that were to be most occupied. Upon analysis of the 
site, two points strongly suggested themselves—the house to be- 
built should nestle at the verge of the wood, projecting far enough 
to command an unimpeded view from the windows of its chief 
rooms, and, in the second place, it should be architecturally in¬ 
formal. The illustrations show plainly enough how these* 
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