Not only the houses, but the gardens, too, respected the native landscape.
Tuxedo's gardens of old were as varied as the architecture. While there were some Italian gardens with formal parterres of specimen flowers, trimmed hedges, and sylphlike statue, they were nevertheless terraced to fit the undulations of the natural terrain. More revered by contemporary connoisseurs were the "wild gardens," popularized by the influential gardener and botanist William Robinson, who coaxed indigenous plants and the natural topography to provide sustainable beauty to amuse the senses in all seasons.
Walking paths of trodden earth, sometimes covered with soft pine needles, stretched deep into the forest. Crisscrossing property boundaries like cobwebs, the paths rose and fell with the land on the back of masterfully laid steps fashioned from native stone.
"Here there is a thatched teahouse, and there a wild garden leading to the boathouse," ..."an informal rambling hillside garden with a natural background of hemlock, laurel and native azaleas," The New York Times reported appreciatively in 1936 during the Garden Club of America's annual four-day meeting in Tuxedo Park.