Lyndhurst

In 1797, Romantic poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge may have had an especially vivid opium dream that resulted in the production of a now-famous poem called “Kubla Khan.”  One memorable stanza described Kubla Khan’s estate:

So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

            In1880, a tubercular New York robber baron and latter-day Kubla Khan named Jay Gould bought an estate in Irvington, New York and began adapting its existing gardens and structures to match his own grand vision.  Last week I went to see the magnificent remnants of his efforts.

“Lyndhurst” is a shortened form of “Lyndenhurst,” the name bestowed on the estate by Gould’s predecessor, in honor of the linden trees originally planted on the 20-acre lawn.  Some of those big, rounded trees, with their distinctive heart-shaped leaves, are still visible from the veranda in front of the Gothic Revival house.

That structure, a masterwork of points and angles, was designed by architect Andrew Jackson Davis, often called the “father of suburbia.”  Inside it is full of vaulted ceilings and stained glass windows—some by Tiffany.  Most of the house is furnished as it was in the 1860’s, with one room fitted out in the lighter, brighter style of the 1840’s, when the structure was occupied by its first owner, former New York City Mayor William Paulding.

As much as I appreciate the history and style of Lyndhurst’s interior, it was the outdoors that drew me.  The landscape design was influenced by a second “Andrew Jackson,” in this case the influential Andrew Jackson Downing, who derived his landscape ideas from the English pastoral and picturesque styles and was a friend and collaborator of architect A.J. Davis.

The view from the back of the house looks out on the Hudson River.  It is hard to compete with that, but the view from the front is of the artfully landscaped lawn.  In keeping with the pastoral style, the green expanse melds into a unified whole, with boundaries and edges blurred by trees and shrubs.  No single plant is supposed to stand out as an individual, though the landscape is full of deliberately placed, “natural” groupings of trees.  In a nod to the picturesque, this layout is accented by the occasional large marble wellhead or other decorative feature, presumably purchased from Europe by Gould or one of his predecessors.  In Gould’s day the lawn would most likely also have been populated by the sheep used as natural lawn mowers.

I went to Lyndhurst to see the remnants of the glass house, originally built in 1865 by George Merritt, the second owner.  Merritt commissioned the firm of Lord and Burnham to build a monumental structure modeled on the one at the Royal Botanic Garden at Kew.  The finished building was a 365-foot long, wood-framed behemoth with an imposing central tower topped by an aviary and cupola.  Gould did not get long to enjoy Merritt’s colossus; it burned to the ground in 1881, only a year after the Wall Street buccaneer moved in.  Gould rebuilt it, with steel framing and without its great tower.  The finished conservatory consisted of 14 rooms, including a central palm court.  In addition to the palms, the building was home to roses, fruit-bearing plants and trees, as well as Gould’s beloved collection of over 200 orchids.  Gould enjoyed this rebuilt space–at the time, the largest conservatory in America–for a relatively short time.  Even the ruthless robber baron could not bribe away the tuberculosis that finally caught up with him. Gould died in 1892.

His daughter, Helen Shepherd occupied Lyndhurst after her father’s death, and it was during her time that a formal rose garden was installed.  It is still there today, planted with about 500 shrubs, including hybrid teas, a smattering of older varieties and some of David Austin’s English roses.  They are lovingly cared for by the Irvington Garden Club, who, along with other local garden clubs, tend the rest of the estate’s plantings.

The glass house is a grand skeleton, its steel framing preserved, but the glass long gone.  The orchid collection was sold off in the 1940’s by Gould’s daughter Anna, as a benefit for the wartime Red Cross.  In 1988, the National Trust, which has owned the property since 1961, began an effort to restore the glass house, seeding the endeavor with $500,000.  Though the remnants of the structure have been stabilized, no further restoration has been done.  The problem is undoubtedly one of money.  If a willing donor or donors were to come along, I am sure the glass house could shine once more.

Jay Gould, by all accounts, was not a particularly “good” man, consorting with the likes of Boss Tweed and creating a great deal of financial havoc on his way to amassing millions of dollars.  However, restoring flesh to the bones of the great glass house would be less a tribute to Gould than a commitment to beauty, education and the advancement of horticulture.  Perhaps the conservatory’s time will come again.

Lyndhurst is located at 635 South Broadway, Tarrytown, NY 10591.  For directions, hours of operation and other information, go to http://lyndhurst.org.