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Sanctified Landscape: Writers, Artists, and the
Hudson River Valley, 1820-1909
David Schuyler
Cornell University Press.
240 pages
$29.95
Published May 15, 2012 |
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Sanctified Landscape: Writers, Artists, and the Hudson River
Valley, 1820-1909
David Schuyler
Cornell University Press. 240 pages
$29.95
Published May 15, 2012
Poets
and painters of the early United States were determined to make a new style—an American style to show the young country’s equality with,
or even its
superiority to, the decadent European empires. Their subject and inspiration
was what Europe did not have: untouched wilderness. According to these
artists, the only people in North America had been the Indians who lived
for time untold in idyllic Arcadian harmony with nature. This is a fiction,
but myths are an indulgence for which every country must be forgiven; the
humble Indians living in perfect communion with nature are not much more
realistic than England’s Robin Hood and Maid Marion.
But early America’s self-image was based in part on a previously unpeopled
country. America was what happened when human beings were given a clean
start. Free of history’s chains and weights, democracy, prosperity, and
equality would burst forth from the wilderness as naturally as the trees and
springs. Before the Mississippi, the
Hudson was the national waterway; before the Rockies, the Catskill mountains
were the
national landscape. The Hudson Valley itself was the American wilderness,
sanctified both by its beauty and as the site of much of the country’s
struggle for independence. Best of all, it was conveniently close to New
York City.
This combination of beauty, history, and accessibility turned the Hudson
River Valley into a retreat for artists and writers of the first
half of the nineteenth century. Popular writers Washington Irving and
Nathaniel Parker Willis, painter Thomas Cole, and landscaper Andrew Jackson
Downing, among many others, lived in the Hudson Valley and took from it the
inspiration they would transmit to the rest of the early United States.
Their vision of the Hudson and the Catskills would shape the American
national character to the start of the twentieth century.
This is the assertion behind David Schuyler’s Sanctified Landscape:
Writers, Artists, and the Hudson River Valley, 1820-1909. It is an case
he makes with many small points rather than one overreaching argument. His
chapters are arranged by theme, the focus of each chapter being one or two
of the major figures in a movement or period, so that the book is less a
single story than it is a collection of related essays. Nor does he attempt
a strictly chronological presentation.
Schuyler begins the book with a chapter on early tourism in the Hudson
Valley, which is an opportunity to explore the spreading fame of the area's
beauty. He then follows with a few of the personalities who made the region
famous. “The Painter’s River” is about Thomas Cole, the first and best-known
of the Hudson River school. Schuyler takes the opportunity to examine Cole’s
series of five paintings on the stages of empire as a reflection of his
thoughts on civilization and nature. The chapter “The Writer’s River”
concentrates on Washington Irving and his near-contemporary Willis, whose
popularity has not survived as Irving’s has. Irving especially is considered
as the first “American” author whose work influenced the public view of the
Hudson Valley. As he wrote so much about the Dutch of the Hudson Valley, he
was also able to create a reassuringly non-English history for the early New
York colony.
The chapter “A River Through A Garden” explains the aesthetic philosophy
of landscaper Andrew Jackson Downing. In his books Downing divided
landscaping into two types: ancient, which was symmetrical, mannered, and
reeked of the ancien régime of Europe; and modern, which was nature
shaped — but not ruined — by the human touch. Downing further divided the
modern style into the graceful, made up of curving, “feminine” lines, and
the picturesque, which was masculine, Romantic, and craggy. In the prints
illustrating these two modern styles it is evident that the graceful and the
picturesque styles were particularly suited to, respectively, the feminine gentle
hills above the Hudson River and the masculine wooded glens of the Catskills.
Schuyler also dwells on the Downing’s importance in popularizing the
porch or veranda, an American contribution to domestic architecture.
The veranda was considered a room of the house and was used as such by the
family when the weather permitted. It extended domestic comfort into the
outdoors to the point where the visible scenery was considered part of the
home’s decoration.
After the 1850s the Hudson Valley began to diminish in importance. After
studying the role of the Hudson Valley in "Change and the Search for
Continuity at Midcentury" Schuyler spends the second half of the book
exploring this decline. One of the only reasons he gives for the decline is
the Civil War’s severe blow to the ideal of America as an untroubled
country. The reader can also see that Manifest Destiny was a more aggressive
form of the attitude that the United States was natural and right, turning
attention away from the eastern part of the country to the open spaces of
the west where Americans could again believe that they were starting over in
untouched territory. Industry, too, took its toll. In the 1850s the
previously unfettered wilderness was constrained by the railway on both
sides of the river—Irving was famously upset by the disturbance of trains
running past Sunnyside at midnight. By 1900 the Hudson was the dumping
ground for the industrial towns that had replaced the agricultural
communities along the river’s banks. And the Hudson Valley was simply too
settled to be a wilderness any longer. Finally, the Romantic era had come to
an end; the public interest in science turned from the natural sciences to
technology. The chapter “An Elegy for the Hudson River School” concentrates
on the end of painter Jervis McEntee’s career as his reserved, precise
painting style was overturned in favor of the Barbizon school. “The
Naturalist’s River” explores the work and life of naturalist John Burroughs
as a founder of the preservation movement of the early twentieth century.
Schuyler finishes the book with a description of the 1909 Hudson-Fulton
Celebration, held to celebrate Henry Hudson’s voyage up the Hudson River
three hundred years earlier, as well as the hundred-year anniversary of
Robert Fulton producing the first commercially successful steamship. Those who were
disappointed by the lackluster Quadricentennial celebration of 2009 might
take comfort in learning that the Hudson-Fulton celebration was a
spectacular affair. The effects, however, were short-lived. The replica of Fulton’s
Clermont was eventually disassembled and Hudson’s Half Moon
burned after being dragged to a park in Cohoes. Some planned memorials were completed late or not at all.
To those who feel a connection to the Hudson Valley it is a particularly sad
ending—the last hurrah of a region that didn’t realize its time was already
past.
Apart from the theme of the Hudson River Valley during its period of
national importance, there is little to link the sections of the book
together. The chapters do not tie into or build upon one another, and they
are of varying quality. Schuyler is more interested in the personalities
than in historic movements or great events. He expects the lives and careers
of his subjects to show the effect of their work on the larger American
consciousness, but the result is not always enlightening. In “A Writer’s
Paradise” he dedicates more space to Irving’s development of his home
Sunnyside than to Irving’s writing and its effect on the larger American
consciousness. Willis’s work is described in four pages (perhaps as a favor
to readers who cannot be expected to be familiar with it) while Idlewild,
his home, has one and a half pages of text and a half-page illustration. “An
Elegy for the Hudson River School” is only somewhat successful at showing
the shrinking interest in realistic portrayals of nature. It concentrates
too much on McEntee’s misfortune and does not explore the changing interests
of the public. Schuyler seems to be guided by his own areas of interest, and
those interests do not always mesh well into a cohesive whole.
The weak sections, however, do not drag down the strong ones. Some of the
chapters stand well on their own. “A River through a Garden” offers a
fascinating look at the large-scale transformation of the Hudson Valley.
Schuyler has a continuing interest in the landscaping and architecture of
those who shaped the Hudson River Valley and in writing about Downing the
reader feels this interest most keenly. A familiarity with sites such as
Montgomery Place or Locust Grove makes the chapter more enjoyable. Schuyler
vividly describes Downing’s landscaping of the approach to Montgomery Place
with hills, trees, and a curving drive that dramatically revealed the house
as the guests neared it. It is another form of Schuyler’s theme of landscape
as spectacle.
Also enjoyable is the chapter on the pre-Civil War interest in early
United States history. The Hudson Valley was changing in its agricultural
pursuits, in its embrace of commerce and industry, and even, as German and
Irish immigrants moved in with the descendants of New York's first settlers,
in its cultural and social makeup. Schuyler takes the opportunity to explore
the growing movement towards historic preservation. He focuses on the
Hasbrouck House in Newburgh, which is still preserved today as Washington’s
Headquarters during the last year of the Revolution.
A quietly successful chapter is “The Naturalist’s River”, which
gracefully combines Burroughs’ writing, his love of nature, his homes
(including Slabsides), and his influence on the preservation efforts of such
people as John Muir, Theodore Roosevelt, and Henry Ford. Burroughs’ opinion of
the Hudson Valley is presented as the most sophisticated and personal in the
book as it changes from admiration to a feeling of slight alienation. He
loves the region, but having grown up on the western side of the Catskills,
he cannot feel a connection to the river itself. He is also the person
described in the book as most willing to let nature be itself. He insisted
on observation and exact description and castigated those who took liberties
with the facts or anthropomorphized the natural world.
Burrough's attitude is singular. For much of the book Schuyler presents the
Hudson River as a sort of Rorschach test. In its wilderness, people saw what
they wanted to see. The interpretation of wilderness was paramount, giving
the impression that the landscape would not fully exist without someone to
interpret it, or at least view it. In
some cases this creation is literal. Much of the current landscape of the
Hudson Valley would not have existed without human interference. Downing is
the most obvious example as his shaping the views of the scenery from his
clients’ estates on the banks of the river also shaped the scenery itself,
creating the gardens and green stretches of lawn visible from the Hudson.
Even more appropriate is Schuyler’s description of Irving’s vision for
Sunnyside being built around, and gradually covering up, the unassuming
two-room Dutch house that was its original form.
The natural beauty and the beautiful naturalness of the landscape also
became a marketable commodity. "The Tourists' River" chapter, is very interesting as it describes this
phenomenon. Mountain lodges were strategically placed to take advantage of
grand views, hotels built, sightseeing trips arranged, and the operator of
the sawmill at the Kaaterskill Falls paid to raise the floodgate and return
the waterfall to its previous glory. The scenery was one of the many
pleasures that the elite enjoyed on their trips through the region.
The best chapters also provide the most insight into the period’s
understanding of beauty. Today we have a vague understanding that it is good
to enjoy nature, that according to the “Broken Windows” theory a
well-maintained environment is preferable to an unpleasant one, that trees
are beautiful while prefabricated houses are not especially so, and that
seaside hotel rooms are likely to cost more than the rooms facing the land.
But the first half of the nineteenth century retained the sense of beauty as
morally and spiritually good. The rhetoric of the Romantic writers might
lapse into purple prose, but it is sincere in its descriptions of the
Catskills and Hudson Valley as sublime. "Few prospects can be imagined more
romantic, more stirring or more beautiful...," James Silk Buckingham reported
(13); Timothy Dwight described "...a wild and awful sublimity..." (15); Willis
described the view from West Point as one of "...few . . fairy spots in this
working-day world." (61) Burroughs considered nature to be a
palliative to the industrialized world, saying, “We live in an age of iron
and have all we can do to keep the iron from entering our souls.” (147) The
scenery existed to be looked at and interpreted, but it also acted on the
passive viewer. To experience nature was to allow yourself to be changed by
it.
Over time this attitude declines in intensity. With its vague and
sentimental platitudes and its struggle against industrialization it was
bound to be defeated. As early as the 1840s Downing is content to argue more
modestly that a pleasant home led to a happy domestic life, which in turn
resulted in good moral character. This he believed so thoroughly that he
published a book of affordable house and landscape designs. Upon hearing
that these designs were too expensive for laborers to put into practice,
Downing produced plans for houses and grounds that could be created for as
little as two hundred dollars.
In fact, many of the figures in the book attempted to bring the nature to
the public in some form or another. It was a natural result of their
interpretation and of their vocations as artists, poets, novelists, and
landscapers, and for most it was a means of preserving nature from the same
public they attempted to reach. Cole’s sweeping landscape paintings were of
great interest to the public, but he also worked to teach the American
public to appreciate the country’s scenery in the hope that this would
preserve the natural world from human depredation. Upon meeting Theodore
Roosevelt, Burroughs was surprised to learn that Roosevelt had given copies
of Burroughs’ books Wake-Robin and Winter's Sunshine to disadvantaged city
boys in the hopes of creating in them a love of nature. In "The Tourist's
River" Schuyler quotes the James Fenimore Cooper hero Natty Bumppo’s plea
that humans not destroy nature’s beauty and bounty; while this plea is part
of the novel, it was also a plea directly to the novel’s reader. If they
could not use their own love of nature as an argument to preserve it, then
writers and artists were able to argue that this wilderness was what made
America unique.
To what extent did early Americans successfully use the Hudson Valley to
define itself as culturally distinct from Europe? The book leaves this to
the reader to answer. American painters were certainly able to define
themselves—although they used European techniques, they represented
American philosophies and landscapes. In literature Americans were also
successful as Irving published immensely popular historical fiction. The
book refers occasionally to Cooper, another popular and influential author
of American historical fiction, who before his move to Lake Otsego in the
1830s lived briefly in Westchester County.
Architecturally, America seemed to have more difficulty separating from
European forms. Downing’s explanation of how to adapt an existing property
to a modern style includes “before” and “after” illustrations that are
reproduced in the book. Interestingly, the “before” picture is much more
American to our modern eyes than the “after” picture. The latter is a simple
house with a straight drive and a fence, all of which suggest rectangular
agricultural fields and livestock pens, while the former has a curving
drive, ornamental trees, no fences, and a house with trim, a decorative
gable, and a veranda. The styles adopted by Downing, his partner Calvert
Vaux, and other architects of the time took their inspiration from Swiss
chalets, Italian villas, gothic revival castles, and, at Sunnyside, a
vaguely Spanish-styled addition called the pagoda. America’s first
consciously created architectural style, it seemed, was still drawn from
European models.
But in other ways the young United States was still judging itself by
Europe’s standards. The Hudson River was described as the Rhine of the west
in its beauty and the Catskills were comparable to Switzerland, which
throughout the nineteenth century was a vacation spot for artists, writers,
and society. It was not until the United States grew westward that it
developed a completely independent American identity. The artists were right
that the United States’ uniqueness lay in its landscape; but that landscape
was not the one they were familiar with.
Schuyler has put care into making the book accessible. Readers will come
away enriched but not overwhelmed. The individual chapters are
self-contained enough that one can read them separately or out of order
without hurting the quality of the book, and they are a comfortable length
for undergraduate students. While scholars can appreciate Schuyler’s
research and interpretations, the book is really meant for the casual reader
who might otherwise know little about the subject. Many of Schuyler’s
subjects are enhanced by the information he imparts. Having read the
aforementioned description of the approach to Montgomery Place, for example,
one cannot experience it without remembering that it represents a uniquely
regional phenomenon, the result not of chance and nature but of an aesthetic
plan peculiar to that time and place. The book has the ability to make its
readers see with new understanding.
The book will be of special interest to those who live in or are
connected to the Hudson Valley. They probably do not know that the region
had such an effect on a young United States, nor that it was both
interpreted and formed through such a lofty philosophy. To those with a
connection to the Hudson Valley the book is a bit sad. It is their history,
but it details a time of glory that the region will probably never
experience again. “Is that what we once had?” the book may lead them to say.
“Is there nothing more?” Or, perhaps better, “This is our past; how will we
include it in our future?”
Anne Matusiewicz, MA |