“He that knows one of their towns knows them all—they are so like one another, except where the situation makes some difference. I shall therefore describe one of them, and none is so proper as Amaurot; for as none is more eminent (all the rest yielding in precedence to this, because it is the seat of their supreme council), so there was none of them better known to me, I having lived five years all together in it.
“Anyone who knows one of their towns knows them all. They are so alike, except where their locations make a difference. I will therefore describe one of them, and Amaurot is the best choice. No other town is more important. All the others rank below it because it is the seat of their supreme council. Nor did I know any of their towns better, since I lived there for five years in all.
“It lies upon the side of a hill, or, rather, a rising ground. Its figure is almost square, for from the one side of it, which shoots up almost to the top of the hill, it runs down, in a descent for two miles, to the river Anider; but it is a little broader the other way that runs along by the bank of that river. The Anider rises about eighty miles above Amaurot, in a small spring at first. But other brooks falling into it, of which two are more considerable than the rest, as it runs by Amaurot it is grown half a mile broad; but, it still grows larger and larger, till, after sixty miles’ course below it, it is lost in the ocean. Between the town and the sea, and for some miles above the town, it ebbs and flows every six hours with a strong current. The tide comes up about thirty miles so full that there is nothing but salt water in the river, the fresh water being driven back with its force; and above that, for some miles, the water is brackish; but a little higher, as it runs by the town, it is quite fresh; and when the tide ebbs, it continues fresh all along to the sea. There is a bridge cast over the river, not of timber, but of fair stone, consisting of many stately arches; it lies at that part of the town which is farthest from the sea, so that the ships, without any hindrance, lie all along the side of the town. There is, likewise, another river that runs by it, which, though it is not great, yet it runs pleasantly, for it rises out of the same hill on which the town stands, and so runs down through it and falls into the Anider. The inhabitants have fortified the fountain-head of this river, which springs a little without the towns; that so, if they should happen to be besieged, the enemy might not be able to stop or divert the course of the water, nor poison it; from thence it is carried, in earthen pipes, to the lower streets. And for those places of the town to which the water of that small river cannot be conveyed, they have great cisterns for receiving the rain-water, which supplies the want of the other. The town is compassed with a high and thick wall, in which there are many towers and forts; there is also a broad and deep dry ditch, set thick with thorns, cast round three sides of the town, and the river is instead of a ditch on the fourth side. The streets are very convenient for all carriage, and are well sheltered from the winds. Their buildings are good, and are so uniform that a whole side of a street looks like one house. The streets are twenty feet broad; there lie gardens behind all their houses. These are large, but enclosed with buildings, that on all hands face the streets, so that every house has both a door to the street and a back door to the garden. Their doors have all two leaves, which, as they are easily opened, so they shut of their own accord; and, there being no property among them, every man may freely enter into any house whatsoever. At every ten years’ end they shift their houses by lots. They cultivate their gardens with great care, so that they have both vines, fruits, herbs, and flowers in them; and all is so well ordered and so finely kept that I never saw gardens anywhere that were both so fruitful and so beautiful as theirs. And this humour of ordering their gardens so well is not only kept up by the pleasure they find in it, but also by an emulation between the inhabitants of the several streets, who vie with each other. And there is, indeed, nothing belonging to the whole town that is both more useful and more pleasant. So that he who founded the town seems to have taken care of nothing more than of their gardens; for they say the whole scheme of the town was designed at first by Utopus, but he left all that belonged to the ornament and improvement of it to be added by those that should come after him, that being too much for one man to bring to perfection. Their records, that contain the history of their town and State, are preserved with an exact care, and run backwards seventeen hundred and sixty years. From these it appears that their houses were at first low and mean, like cottages, made of any sort of timber, and were built with mud walls and thatched with straw. But now their houses are three storeys high, the fronts of them are faced either with stone, plastering, or brick, and between the facings of their walls they throw in their rubbish. Their roofs are flat, and on them they lay a sort of plaster, which costs very little, and yet is so tempered that it is not apt to take fire, and yet resists the weather more than lead. They have great quantities of glass among them, with which they glaze their windows; they use also in their windows a thin linen cloth, that is so oiled or gummed that it both keeps out the wind and gives free admission to the light.
“It stands on the side of a hill, or rather, on rising ground. Its shape is almost square. One side reaches nearly to the hilltop, then slopes down for two miles to the river Anider. It is a little wider in the other direction, along the riverbank. The Anider begins as a small spring about eighty miles upstream from Amaurot. Other streams flow into it, two of them much larger than the rest. By the time it reaches Amaurot, it is half a mile wide. It keeps growing wider until it reaches the ocean, sixty miles below the town. Between the town and the sea, and for some miles upstream, the tide flows strongly in and out every six hours. For about thirty miles upstream, the incoming tide fills the river entirely with salt water, forcing the fresh water back. For some miles beyond that, the water is brackish. A little farther upstream, where it passes the town, it is entirely fresh. When the tide goes out, the water remains fresh all the way to the sea. A bridge crosses the river, built not of timber but of fine stone, with many grand arches. It stands at the end of town farthest from the sea. This allows ships to dock along the whole riverfront without obstruction. Another river also flows through the town. Though small, it flows pleasantly from the same hill on which the town stands. It runs downhill through the town and empties into the Anider. Its source lies a little outside the town, and the inhabitants have fortified it. This prevents enemies during a siege from blocking, diverting, or poisoning the water. From there, clay pipes carry the water to the lower streets. Large cisterns collect rainwater for parts of town that the small river cannot supply. A high, thick wall surrounds the town, with many towers and forts. A wide, deep, dry ditch, thickly planted with thorns, surrounds three sides. The river serves as a ditch on the fourth side. The streets are convenient for transporting goods and are well sheltered from the wind. The buildings are well built and so uniform that an entire side of a street looks like one house. The streets are twenty feet wide, and every house has a garden behind it. These gardens are large and enclosed on all sides by buildings facing the streets. Every house therefore has a front door opening onto the street and a back door opening into the garden. All their doors have two panels, open easily, and close by themselves. Since there is no private property among them, anyone may freely enter any house. Every ten years, they draw lots to decide which houses they will live in. They tend their gardens with great care, growing vines, fruit, herbs, and flowers. Everything is so well arranged and maintained that I have never seen gardens anywhere both so productive and so beautiful. They keep their gardens in such good order partly because they enjoy doing so. Competition between the residents of different streets also encourages them, as they try to outdo one another. Indeed, nothing else in the whole town is both more useful and more pleasant. The town’s founder seems to have given more attention to the gardens than to anything else. They say Utopus drew up the town’s entire original plan. But he left its decoration and further improvements to later generations, since perfecting everything was too much for one man. Their records preserve the history of their town and state with great care, reaching back seventeen hundred and sixty years. These show that their houses were originally low and humble, like cottages. They used whatever timber was available, with mud walls and straw roofs. Now their houses are three storeys high, with fronts faced in stone, plaster, or brick. They fill the space between the wall facings with rubble. Their roofs are flat and covered with a kind of plaster that costs very little. It is prepared so that it does not catch fire easily and withstands the weather better than lead. They have large quantities of glass, which they use for their windows. They also use thin linen cloth in their windows, treated with oil or gum. This keeps out the wind while freely letting in the light.”