Passin’ through that still somewhat aristocratic locality, Lafayette place, I walked by the Gardiner family residence, which recalled to me an interestin’ fact, and yet a fact that hardly one New Yorker in a thousand knows anythin’ about. This Gardiner family, though it claims to be an American and leadin’ New York family, has been in the possession of a regular English “manor” in New York State for nearly three centuries, a manor which has been handed down from father to eldest son, according to the laws of entail, just as if it were an English estate, and which is now in the possession of the twelfth descendant in the direct line.
The Gardiner manor property is the oldest individual landed estate in this country, and has been longer in the possession of one family than any other property in the whole length and breadth of this vast American continent. So if broad acres make blue blood, and if descent from a long line of proprietors gives aristocracy, the Gardiner family of New York to-day can beat the Astors out of sight.
There have only been three generations of “landed” Astors. There have been twelve generations of “landed” Gardiners.
But, like real aristocrats, the Gardiners have always been very unpretentious, and although English in origin, have been thoroughly American in life and views and habits.
The history of the Gardiner property (which consists chiefly of a large fertile island, near the end of Long Island, called Gardiner’s Island, a regular little country or state, as it were, all by itself) is quite interestin’ and varied, really illustratin’ the romance of history.
The present Gardiners are connected by marriage with the Van Rensselaers, Van Courtlandts, Sands, Duanes, Livingstons and Beekmans of New York city. The present heir to the estate is a baby boy, called by the fierce name of Lion Gardiner, who, when he grows up, will step into a valuable property, his two sisters not countin’ in the line of inheritance, though of course they will be well provided for.
Samuel Buell Gardiner, who was some time ago one of our Board of Supervisors, and twice a member of the State Legislature from the city, was the tenth “lord” of the “Gardiner manor,” and a perfect specimen of a gentleman of the old school, one of the few rich men in New York who really went in for enjoyin’ life in a rational way, and gettin’ for himself the worth of his money.
One of the ladies of the Gardiner family, a Miss Gardiner, married in New York City a President of the United States, John Tyler. There was a good deal of romantic mystery attached at the time to this marriage. It was kept profoundly secret, till it was an accomplished fact; hardly anybody knew anythin’ about it till after it was over. For a President to keep his love affairs to himself shows that either he must have been a very sly, or the reporters of his day very slow. A President couldn’t do that sort of thing to-day, you may safely wager all you’re worth.
The president was married to Miss Gardiner in the Church of the Ascension in this city by Bishop Onderdonk, of the Protestant Episcopal Church, who afterwards had his own troubles. There was a splendid weddin’ breakfast served in the place, and they happy pair started off to spend the honeymoon.
Though the weddin’ had been quiet, as soon as the marriage took place the President didn’t bother about any more secrecy; but on the contrary, made quite a show of his happiness, ridin’ down Broadway with his bride, in an open barouche drawn by four white horses, and goin’ on board a ship of war in big state from the Battery.
Meanwhile, the matter had got wind, and guns were fired all along the route, and there was a high old time. The first cannon that the bride saw fired off in her honor had a regular perfect ring of smoke formed around it, which encircled the cannon like a huge weddin’ ring. The lady noticed the resemblance and took it as a happy omen, and was highly pleased as was the President himself. The reason why the weddin’ had been kept quiet in advance was because one of the Gardiner family had, a few months before, been killed by the burstin’ of Captain Stockton’s great gun on board the frigate Princeton while on a pleasure trip down the Potomac.
Durin’ the times of the Cuban filibusters the Gardiners came near gettin’ their property and ‘emselves into trouble. They had nothin’ to do with filibusters, it is true; but the filibusters had a deal to do with ‘em, whether or no. “The Cuban liberators,” as they called ‘emselves, took possession of Gardiner’s Island, doin’ that a great deal easier than they could get possession of Cuba. They went into camp within a mile or so of the Gardiner manor house, and “raided” on the Gardiner provisions. Colonel Ryan, the notorious filibuster, was in command of the “insurgents,” and made things lively for the neighborhood.
After a while the United States authorities made an attempt to drive ‘em away, and this attempt made things on the island even livelier yet. Fifty marines landed from a United States revenue cutter and chased and fired on the filibusters. Colonel Ryan hid himself in a cave on the Gardiner property and defied the whole revenue service to get at him. But he subsequently subsided.
Before this time Gardiners Island had had a taste of war, durin’ the second war with England. An English fleet came to anchor right in Gardiner’s Bay, and stayed there many months, foragin’ on the island larder all the time. Then the American fleet used to send to the Gardiners for provisions, too; so that between the two fleets the poor Gardiners had a close call.
Once a party of Americans under Commodore Decatur landed by stealth on Gardiner’s Island while a lot of British officers were havin’ “high jinks,” and helpin’ ‘emselves to everythin’ at the Gardiner manor house. The American surprised the British and took ‘em away as prisoners of war. And then the British, thinkin’ that the Gardiner family had put up this job, which they hadn’t, went to the manor house to arrest Gardiner.
But the Gardiner who was then “lord” of the manor, Gardiner of the seventh, tried a little strategem and got off. There was a room in the manor house known as “the green room” from the style of its furniture. Now, as my readers can find out for ‘emselves, green makes one look sickly and delicate, so the cunnin’ Gardiner the seventh went and seated himself right among the green curtains in this room, at a green covered table, with medicine bottles on it, lookin’ as much like an invalid as possible. When the British officer came in he didn’t like to arrest a sick man, so he said he would let Gardiner remain if he would only give him a hostage as security for his future good behavior. The interestin’ invalid amid the green curtains offered to surrender his own son as his security, knowin’ well, of course, that they couldn’t find this son, as he had gone off. The British officer accepted the son as a substitute for his father, but was not able to find the son. It is not often that a “green” hand escapes so well.
In the first war between this country and England, Gardiners Island had a pretty hard time of it, also. Although English by descent the Gardiner family had become American by adoption, and went in for American independence heart and soul; so the British went for ‘em whenever they got a chance, and they got a good many chances.
Cyrus W. Field, who has built a monument to Major Andre, may not be aware that the Gardiners entertained in fine style, because they were compelled to, his idol. Andre often dined at the Gardiner manor house, and a wineglass he gave one of the “Lord” Gardiners is still preserved among the family heirlooms. Andre himself, while dinin’ with the Gardiners, found out that one of their family, an American “rebel” officer, was hiding in the house, on a visit from the Continental army. But he never said a word about it, which shows he was a pretty good sort of a fellow after all. This “rebel” officer, whom he didn’t inform on and have hung as a spy, as he might have done, afterwards did what he could for Andre after he was condemned to be hung as a spy himself.
But there was plenty of love as well as war in the history of Gardiner’s Island, and John Lion, the seventh Gardiner, made love like a lord. He had originally intended to be a bachelor all his life, but he didn’t carry out his intentions. He might have done it though, if it hadn’t been for one stormy day.
But then there is always somethin’. This John Lion Gardener, when thirty-four years old, was a handsome hermit, livin’ alone on his island with his books, resolved never to marry. But one day a pleasure party from the adjoinin’ State of Connecticut got wrecked on the shore of his Island, in a storm, and sought shelter in the manor house, where, of course, they were magnificently entertained, as became a real, live, American “lord.” Among the pleasure party was a Miss Griswold, the niece of Governor Griswold, of Connecticut, livin’ at a country seat on the Sound called Black Hall. The handsome hermit and the fully-intendin’-to-be-bachelor, Gardener, at once fell in love with this Miss Griswold, and leavin’ his books, went after her, payin’ his visits to her in a magnificent barge, just like those royal barges you read about in Scott’s novels. Whenever he came over in his barge, the “Lord” Gardiner was accompanied by a retinue of a dozen colored servants, makin’ his visits like a “royal progress.” And when at last he married the fair Yankee what a time there was–what spendin’ of money and flowin’ of wine, just as in “ye olden time.”
And then there was another Gardiner who married for love, but whose wedding was less stately, though more sentimental, than this. The belle of the Gardiner family, the prettiest of its women, was Mary, the daughter of the fifth “lord” of the manor. She was a gay, giddy butterfly, very accomplished as well as rich, perfect in music, dancin’, paintin’, embroidery, small talk, and all the rest of it; fond of admiration, and very extravagant. Everybody said that she would be bound to marry some English duke or foreign prince, but everybody didn’t know everythin’.
She met one day a country clergyman, a young chap called Blake, who had been appointed by her father the chaplain of Gardiner’s Island. Blake hadn’t a dollar, and nothin’ but a fine face and a finer character. But, to the unbounded surprise of everybody, the gay, proud, beautiful, extravagant Mary Gardiner fell in love at first sight with this young chaplain, and married him at last.
Her folks didn’t like it; but she liked him, and she had her own way, and her own man. And every man and woman who reads her story thinks all the more of her for it.
Altogether the history of the Gardiner family is very romantic and very creditable. If all “lords” were like ‘em, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have some more American lords.
[Editor’s notes: In addition to romance, there was a darker side to the Gardiner family empire. Well into the 19th century, the estate on Gardiner’s Island was maintained with slave labor. The island itself, of course, had originally been populated by Native Americans.
Mary Gardiner’s first husband was Elijah Blague (not Blake). He died in 1762, after eight years of marriage. Mary married again eight months later, to another Connecticut minister of Lyme, Mr. Johnston. She died in 1872, at age 32–the same age at which her first husband died.
Col. Ryan, the filibuster, made it to Cuba, where he was captured and executed.]
