LANDSCAPING
There are several bits in the letters during his career as a farmer
that show his earliest attempts at landscape improvement.
When the farm at Sachem’s Head, Guilford, was being considered for
purchase, he wrote to his father, July 23, 1846:
I have thought a good deal about that Sachem’s Head place without
knowing it was for sale (so I have of ’Miah’s). There is no fruit
there, I suppose, and perhaps no soil for it. I should like to hear
more about it. There is the prettiest ground for a _ferme ornée_ in
that place of ’Miah’s I ever saw almost, a beautiful nook under the
mountain or dell, with a fine large trout brook running through it, a
quarter of a mile from David’s, half a mile from the railroad canal.
The farm has been miserably cultivated by the old miserly tyrant that
has gone to his account, but there is by nature excellent land and
every convenience and beauty desirable.
After the Sachem’s Head farm was bought, he wrote definitely (March
23, 1847) of its landscape development to his brother, with a marginal
sketch of his general idea:
I wrote shortly to father yesterday and now reply to yours of the 18th
inst.
I note what you say about Alsop’s and trees. I intend to plant
(trans-) but few ornamental trees and with them to take great
pains,--until I know where to put my house exactly, I cannot arrange
the lawn very well. The lawn is to be the grand feature of my
gardening. The ground is naturally graded and finely adapted for a
broad, smooth green plat broken only by a few trees or clumps, along
on the rear edge of it and so circling towards the shore, some low
thick shrubbery (a) is wanted. Back (cornering on b) I suppose will be
a good place for an orchard (beyond the proposed barn). ’Tis there we
are carting our manure now and mean to plant corn and potatoes this
year.
[Illustration: Facsimile of Letter with Mr. Olmsted’s Earliest Sketch
for Improvement of Grounds, 1847]
He consulted an architect regarding the proposed house, having himself
first made sketches of floor plans and determined tentatively on a
site. By November 10, 1847 he had planted trees, which he describes in
a letter to his brother:
We have planted 75 apple trees in first rate manner, 60 quinces, too.
About a dozen ornamental forest trees on the back bone of the point
lot; which make quite a pretty show,--but I do not think many of them
will live.
Further improvements were not carried out at Sachem’s Head on account
of the relinquishment of this farm for the larger and more promising
place on Staten Island.
Mr. Frederick Kingsbury in 1903, after Mr. Olmsted’s death, recalled
the development of the Staten Island farm and his friend’s beginning as
a landscape improver. When Mr. Kingsbury first visited the new farm,
Mr. Olmsted explained how he intended to improve its appearance.
Mr. Kingsbury notes:
“The house was simple yet picturesque. It had been occupied by a
tenant. The barns were quite near, and in the rear of the house was
a small pond, fifteen or twenty feet in diameter, used for washing
waggons, watering stock, and as a swimming place for dogs, ducks and
geese. There was no turf near it. The whole place was as dirty and
disorderly as the most bucolic person could desire. It was on the
surroundings of the house that Olmsted first showed his genius in
landscape construction.
“He moved the barns and all their belongings behind a knoll, he brought
the road in so that it approached the house by a graceful curve, he
turfed the borders of the pond and planted water plants on its edge and
shielded it from all contamination. Thus, with a few strokes and at
small expense he transformed the place from a very dirty, disagreeable
farmyard to a gentleman’s house. This was his first attempt at anything
of the sort, and it was as successful as anything he ever did.”
Mr. Kingsbury preserved a letter which his friend wrote him in the fall
of 1848, pursuing the subject of landscape surroundings:
I am glad you are disposed to notice such things as Harral’s house so
much. The effect such things have on the taste of a community,--and
through that on their hearts and lives--the elevation,--I believe is
very much underestimated.
I do exceedingly enjoy the view from my house, sometimes it is
“wondrous beautiful”; just now for instance in this charming sleepy
autumn haze, I cannot attempt to describe it, constantly changing,
always renewedly interesting. I can tell you a few features always
present. The water view extends over just half the circle. From the
immediate opposite front, to the left of the arc, it is bounded by the
horizon,--dark blue ocean, with forever distant sails coming up or
sinking as they bid good-bye to America. Then all over that quarter at
all distances are all sorts of vessels--at anchor or under sail--and
in all variety constantly shifting. On the extreme right, across the
water (Raritan Bay), the horizon is broken by the hills of Jersey some
twelve miles off, I suppose. They sweep off gradually growing into
something like mountains as they curve round facing us; yet to the
front, suddenly and abruptly they end in a precipitous cliff similar
to their relations, the Palisades of N. River. This is the Highland of
Navesink, and we can just discern a cluster of white towers upon its
brink, the fixed and revolving lights and the Telegraph Station.
A little beyond it (on the circle’s edge) you imagine the horizon is
half broken by a long yellowish white streak. It is the sand and spray
or foam of Sandy Hook, and the three singularly distinct sails are
nothing but its three white light-houses. There is yet another light
in sight of us and in a dark night these six lights are curiously
interesting,--affecting different minds with different ideas or
feelings. To me they present a cheerful, neighborhood effect. To a
stranger coming here in the dark it seems to me they must have a very
sociable look. It is almost impossible to realize their distance.
Staten Island I am sure you would like in itself,--there are many
charming inland views.