The Honeywood Files

The Honeywood File

An Adventure in Building

H.B. Creswell

ACADEMY CHICAGO PUBLISHERS

© 2000 Academy Chicago Publishers

Published in 2000 by

Academy Chicago Publishers

363 West Erie Street

Chicago, Illinois 60610

First published in 1929

Printed and bound in the U.S.A.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form
without the express written permission of the publisher.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data on file with publisher.

eISBN: 978-0-89733-661-1

To

C.B.

Q.A.G.

W.

Although
The Honeywood File
is designed to engage aspirants to architectural practice with lively presentment of the adventures that await them, a picture in which men and women rather than architects and builders occupy the canvas, and which is more concerned with the fabric of life than with the fabric of houses, will perhaps amuse those who have fallen under the spell of bricks and mortar or who are curious of the unexplored.

H.B.C.

The Honeywood File
is to be read as an architect’s correspondence file. It consists of a folder endorsed “Honeywood.” Within it letters received and carbon copies of those sent out are clipped together in order of date. An actual file taken from an architect’s office would, of course, convey little: it would be prolix; raise questions it did not answer and answer those it did not raise; give no clear impression of events and shadowy presentments, only, of persons; and it would be loaded with superfluities: in a word, it would be tedious and unintelligible.

Any file, therefore, which is to present to the reader such a clear picture of characters and events as it would awaken in the memory of the architect who conducted the correspondence, if he is imagined as perusing it months or years after it was closed, must be stripped of redundancies; subjected to selection and arrangement; given order and proportion and, in addition, the letters themselves must have a colour brighter than reality.

The Honeywood File
is put forward as representing an actual file that has been reorganized in this way; but such reorganization does not necessarily involve a departure from verisimilitude. It may enhance verisimilitude, and this has been the author’s endeavour; and as the whole value of, and much of the interest in
The Honeywood File
depends upon acceptance of the picture as a true one, he wishes to state that his chief concern has been to make it so.

He also wishes to state that before setting pen to paper he engaged with himself that all characters should be imaginary and all incidents fictitious. There was no virtue in keeping this engagement, for in no single instance was he impeded by the restriction, and only once or twice, when invented incidents awakened memories, was he reminded of it. Now that all is done he can affirm that, though some incidents are paralleled in his experience, none of the events are so; and that no character in the book is associated in his mind with any person alive or dead he has ever known or, for that matter, heard of or read about.

The Honeywood File
was first opened when the author sat down before a blank sheet of paper, and James Spinlove, a complete stranger, announced himself at the point of the pen. Sir Leslie Brash, who was apparently standing next in queue in the unknown, then inked himself down; and his temperament and social level were settled at once and forever by a facile—and apparently meaningless—alliteration which fell on the paper to close a sentence. That fine fellow Grigblay, the graceless Potch, the humble Bloggs and the rest, all happened in the same way; and why they should be themselves and not others, or, being themselves, should think, act, and speak as they do, is beyond the author’s comprehension. Where, he asks, have they all come from? The only answer to this question seems to be—the inkpot.

As with the characters, so, very much, with the events: the author has not generally known from one page to another, and often from one sentence to the next, what was going to happen nor how the cat would jump or an entanglement unravel. From week to week, keeping pace with serial publication in The Architect’s Journal, the broken end of the last number was usually his sole incentive to the next.

Thus, no author ever posed as editor of his own lucubrations with a much better claim to indulgence than here. The detachment of this “editor’s” commentary; his quickness to pounce upon and claw out on the carpet and publicly dismember everything that attracts his attention, and his eagerness to reprove or commend, are no elaborate affectations, but the reactions of an imperfect nature to personalities and events with whose creation he has had nothing to do.

To him, as has been said—and now to the reader—enters James Spinlove, the architect from whose hypothetical office
The Honeywood File
is supposed to derive. He proves to be an Associate of the Royal Institute of British Architects, which marks him as decently educated and technically well-equipped; and the indications are that he has been in practice half a decade, so that his years do not count much more nor much less than thirty. He has probably built various small houses, a village hall, and so forth. He employs an assistant and a boy clerk.

We open the file at the back—for each succeeding letter is, properly, filed on the top of the preceding one—and we find the following:

FREDERICK DALBET TO JAMES SPINLOVE

Dear Jim, 15.1.24.

I accidentally ran into an old friend of my father’s the other day. He told me he had bought land in Kent with the idea of building himself a house and was looking about for an architect. I told him what an incompetent ass you are and of that house of yours which is getting ready to fall down at Ightham, so he may write to you. The name is Sir Leslie Brash (Knt. Bac.). He and my father were lifelong friends, so take care of him. He is an expert economist and financier; you can read of his crimes in Who’s Who: recreations—conger fishing and cursing; however, though peppery, he is a real good sort, but you must mind your “p’s” and “q’s” with “dear Maude,” as my mother calls her. I have not seen her since she became her ladyship, and shall be amused to see how she wears it. When are we two going to meet?

Yours,

SIR LESLIE BRASH TO JAMES SPINLOVE

Dear Sir, 17.1.24.

I write on the introduction of Mr. Frederick Dalbet, from whom you have, I anticipate, received intimation. I have purchased property at Thaddington, near Marlford, and am contemplating erecting a residence upon it. The location to be occupied by the mansion I should request your advice upon. The fall of the ground I apprehend to suggest a south-east aspect, but Lady Brash desires the edifice to face in the opposite direction as there is a chimney—a pumping station, if I am correctly informed—some two miles distant on the S.W. which interferes with the prospect. These matters, however, Lady Brash and myself desire to discuss with you. I should be glad to be advised whether you would be prepared to act for me in the capacity of architect if we decide to proceed, or perhaps you will consider it advisable for me to get rid of the property and purchase another as I entirely failed to observe the chimney when I acquired it. In the event of your expressing willingness to act for me I will suggest an appropriate date when we may meet on the property.

Yours faithfully,

SPINLOVE TO BRASH

Dear Sir, 18.1.24.

I beg to thank you for your esteemed favour of the 17th inst., and it will give me great pleasure acting for your good self and meeting you on site as per your letter. I am free Tuesday and Thursday and every day the following week as advised at present if suitable to your convenience and will thank you to let me know re same.

Thanking you in anticipation,

Yours faithfully,

jas. spinlove.

This is terrible! Is it possible that Spinlove would sign himself “Jas.,” and beg to thank and be ungrammatical and guilty of solecisms and prostrate himself like a shopkeeper? It is not likely, but it is in some degree possible and that is why I have, for this one occasion only, played off a practical joke on the reader.

This letter is not on the file but has been substituted by me in order to pillory a style of letter-writing which, because it is adopted in certain business circles, is supposed by some to be businesslike and to give an impression of efficiency. Needless to say, no diction is businesslike which is not lucid; and faulty grammar and the use of such expressions as “as per” and “re same,” implies ignorance and not efficiency. An architect has to correspond with many different kinds of persons under a great variety of circumstances, and no letters are of greater importance than those addressed to his clients, where not only are lucidity, firmness, and self-control called for, but frankness, sincerity, tact, and—if he possesses that gift of the gods—charm. Spinlove will be likely enough to make mistakes: but he is a decently educated man and socially, if not in rank, Brash’s equal. What Spinlove did, in fact, write, as recorded on his file, is as follows:

SPINLOVE TO BRASH

Dear Sir, 18.1.24.

I have to thank you for your letter of yesterday and to say that I shall be most glad to act for you in the matter you speak of. I can go with you to the site on any day next week, except Tuesday and Thursday; or on any day during the following week except Saturday if you will be so good as to name day and hour and place of meeting. From your description the site seems to be most attractive. I think that the chimney of which you speak may not prove such a serious annoyance as you now suppose.

Yours faithfully,

This is all right, but if the last three words had been “is now supposed,” it would be happier. In formal correspondence it is well to avoid the personal “you.” Spinlove, however, ought not to have referred to the chimney. I myself know nothing of what lies ahead—I had no idea of any chimney till Brash referred to it—but Spinlove ought to have divined that he will hear quite enough about this chimney without introducing the subject himself. The indications are that Spinlove is not socially astute. It is Lady Brash who objects to the chimney—and did not Spinlove’s friend Dalbet, warn him of “dear Maude”? Spinlove will get into the lady’s bad books if he does not take care. The arrangements seem to have been completed by telephone and Spinlove does not record and file telephone messages as he would do if his office organization was more thorough, for we next read:

SPINLOVE TO BRASH

Dear Sir Leslie Brash (
sic
), 25.1.24.

I have roughly worked out the dimensions of the house for the purpose of giving you an idea of the probable cost, as you asked. I enclose on a separate sheet a list of the rooms with approximate sizes following the instructions you gave me. Assuming that the house is built of brick with tiled roof, iron casements in oak frames, the stairs in oak, and reception rooms panelled in oak and with oak floors, and the whole house well, but not extravagantly, fitted and decorated, I think the figure you should have in mind is from twenty to thirty thousand pounds. This does not include entrance road, fencing, terrace, if any; nor, of course, laying out of garden, nor the cottages you spoke of. It does, however, include—as you will see— garage, stable, and kennels.

As I told you, I think the site an excellent one in every way. If you keep the house well up on the N.W. side, with entrance from the upper road and through the wood, you will be close to the highway, though screened from it. You will have an almost level approach, and the fall of the ground towards the S.W. will admit of readily forming a terrace and give the house a most attractive setting. The wood upon the N. and curving towards the East, will shelter the house and, as I pointed out to Lady Brash, will prevent the chimney being seen from any of the windows. I hope Lady Brash will be reconciled to the chimney as there are insuperable objections to placing the house in any other position, or setting it at any other angle than that fixed by the fall of the ground which, also, is the ideal for aspect and for prospect. The view is truly wonderful and I should not, I may say, have noticed the chimney if Lady Brash had not called my attention to it.

I will not take any further action until I hear from you.

Yours sincerely,

It would have been perhaps wiser if Spinlove had opened his letter “Dear Sir.” We may assume that he was cordially greeted by the Brashes, that the common friendship with the Dalbet family thawed the ice and that the interview was intimate and not formal; but even had his client not been his senior in years and his superior in rank, Spinlove ought to have waited for him to initiate the more familiar address. Spinlove is also too garrulous: he is, of course, naturally enthusiastic at the splendour of the opportunity before him and is anxious to do himself justice and perhaps to make sure that Brash shall perceive what a discerning architect he has got; but a great part of his letter is clearly a repetition of what he has already said in conversation, and he ought to have more gumption than again to drag in the wretched chimney. He is in danger of taking a side in a matrimonial squabble, and, be it said, if he knew how his bread was buttered, probably the wrong one. It is to be hoped that his appearance and address will please. His letters certainly will not.