When James Oglethorpe sketched out a design in 1733 for the settlement of Savannah, Ga., he didn’t have “smart growth” in mind. It was some 150 years before the invention of the horseless carriage, and the biggest “green” revolution occurring in his era was the spread of the plantation form of agriculture. Indeed, in laying out the city in the form of identical, easy-to-replicate wards, or squares, he did so with military considerations in mind.
At the center of each ward was a smaller square, which Oglethorpe left as open space to function as a military exercise ground. The four corners of each ward contained a “tything,” 10 lots for housing. And on the east and west flanks of each square, he allotted larger parcels designated for public structures such as churches, banks or government buildings.
The original plan called for six contiguous wards. As the city expanded, it replicated the squares repeatedly, eventually creating 24 of them, then re-developing three of them so that 21 remain. The military training grounds were converted into parks, usually focused on a statue to some great American, or a monument to a momentous battle. Wealthy ante-bellum merchants built magnificent mansions facing some of the parks. Most of the historical buildings remain today, although an occasional ’60s-era atrocity did manage to creep in. In the early 21st century, historical Savannah is an urban gem — one of the truly great places of America.
As I explore in “The City of Squares” this week, the city exemplifies all the traits of smart growth: grid streets, small lot sizes, mixed uses, walkability and abundant green space. As a bonus, historic Savannah has adapted to the automobile remarkably well.
So, what does any of this have to do with Virginia? Do we need to visit Savannah to embrace the virtues of grid streets and compact development? Well, that wouldn’ t hurt, if you’re looking to be inspired. But here’s what’s really cool about Oglethorpe’s replicatable squares: (a) They contain within themselves a balance of houses, jobs, stores and amenities, and (b) they provide a schema for extending the urban grid pattern incrementally as the city expands, while preserving that balance.
Each ward is like an independent cell, containing within itself a balance of elements required for a quality life: 40 residential units (unless lots are combined to create larger dwellings), a central green space within a block or two walking distance from every dwelling, and space to accommodate shops, professional offices and small office buildings. Oglethorpian wards are not totally self-sufficient, of course. Residents cannot possibly meet all of their needs within the square, but they can meet some of them. This is the kind of balance of land uses at the “cluster” level that Ed Risse calls for.
Like the cells of a living organism, Savannah’s wards work together. While the wards are interlaced internally with streets and lanes, providing multiple routes between any two points, the perimeter streets align to create thoroughfares, as can be seen in the aerial photo to the left. (Click on the image for a more detailed picture.) These handsome, tree-lined boulevards enhance the surrounding areas and comfortably accommodate pedestrians.
Compare that to conventional “suburban” development in which a majority of roadway lane miles are contained in dead-end cul de sacs — private streets, for all intents, with minimal traffic — that provide no public connectivity whatsoever. All traffic funnels into connector roads and arterials that are easily bottlenecked.
Thus arises the supreme irony: Because all streets contribute to mobility and access, historic Savannah supports a relatively high population density with a minimum of traffic congestion.
These dynamics are are well understood and fully appreciated in the literature of the smart-growth and New Urbanism movements. What I haven’t heard discussed is how Oglethorpian squares provide a mechanism for extending the grid pattern outward from the core as the city grows. These squares fit together with Lego-like precision, all streets aligning perfectly for maximum connectivity. Plug and play, baby!
The squares are small enough — 40 residential lots at most, no more than a modest subdivision — that they allow for incremental, organic growth. Furthermore, the internal structure of the squares are incredibly flexible. While Oglethorpe designed his squares with 40 single-family dwellings, lots can be combined for larger houses, or merged to create apartments or townhouses. Developers of the squares have the means to be highly responsive to the demands of the marketplace.
Bring back the grid. It worked in Savannah, maybe it can work in Virginia, too!
