THE GARDEN OF “AYSGARTH” 
AT ABINGTON, NEAR PHILADELPHIA 
T HERE is a glimpse of the house from 
the turnpike, the Old York Road, 
which curves before the gate of “Aysgarth” 
and ascends to the village of Abington. 
Many years of growth have spread the 
branches of trees over the lawn, and the hos¬ 
pitable veranda is retired by their deep and 
inviting shade. Vine-clad arbors give hint 
of the garden beyond, and fine old shrubs 
are silent evidence of a serene past, undis¬ 
turbed by crowded trolley cars, hastening 
along the road to a suburban pleasure park, 
—latter-day intruders upon a scene which 
until five years ago was one of more com¬ 
plete rural peace than could easily be found 
at twelve miles distance from a large city. 
In such retirement Aysgarth has grown and 
mellowed, but in 
still more com¬ 
plete isolation did 
its life begin. 
Twenty-fiveyears 
ago the Hunting¬ 
don Valley, which 
is near by, was not 
yet visited by the 
railroad whose 
whistle shrieks 
drown the notes 
of birds and the 
humming of bees 
in the garden. 
Abington was 
then an agricul¬ 
tural hamlet, and 
its church tower, 
rising over the 
verdure of home¬ 
ly dooryards, 
made a picture 
likely to be hap¬ 
pily remembered 
when viewed from 
across the valley. 
Even long before 
this the good vil¬ 
lagers may have 
looked with the 
pride of possession upon Aysgarth house, as 
they passed its gates on Sunday mornings, for 
the Rev. Richard Treat, their second pastor, 
had bequeathed it to his flock at his death in 
i 778. The acres of Aysgarth were the glebe- 
land of the church and were held as early 
as 1713 by the Rev. Malachi Jones, the 
first pastor. Later, one of his successors, a 
Dr. Steele, held school in the house. Sixty 
acres were then set aside for the parsonage, 
but a cash salary being preferred to the use 
of even so rich a land caused the whole tract 
to be sold in 1855. Then the parson be¬ 
took himself to a little cottage closer to his 
church, and Aysgarth passed into alien hands. 
In 1868 it was purchased by the late John 
Lambert, who moved thither from “Wood- 
stock,” a fine 
estate developed 
under his own 
hand, only to be 
claimed by the 
outreaching city. 
The flowers and 
shrubs that could 
stand transplant¬ 
ing were moved 
to Aysgarth and 
there continued 
to thrive under 
but little change 
of condition. 
These were the 
days when coun- 
trv homes were 
more than inci¬ 
dents in their 
owner s’ lives, 
when a gentle¬ 
man’s country- 
seat was the chief 
item in the list of 
his real posses¬ 
sions. Culture 
and refinement 
moulded these 
domains of rural 
civility and estab- 
35 
THE HOUSE FROM THE BOX GARDEN 
