Representative Spaces

Few would disagree that William F. Buckley Jr.’s meteoric rise in the conservative movement was entirely self-propelled. Behind the maestro of the 20th-century Republican Party is the force of the Buckley family, from WFB Sr.’s oil business helping to fund the early years of National Review to the ever-charismatic Jim Buckley’s senatorship vindicating Bill’s support of the Conservative Party of New York. 

Especially pertinent to any individual’s development is their home, and Great Elm has no small claim to Bill’s formation. The house is not only an important part of Bill’s story, but also for the many guests and groups it has played host to throughout the 20th century. The living nature of the building, conceived by Buckley Sr. and grown by its Buckley owners since, demonstrates a personality that sets it apart from any individual, a force of its own that shaped its guests and their ideas and activities. 

In a meeting with current occupants Cameron and Liza Smith, William F. Buckley Jr.’s nephew and his wife, I learned more about the historic building and the family that made it so.

THE ESTATE

Great Elm is a truly living environment. When pulling up to the driveway of the historic building in the quintessential New England town of Sharon, CT, I was struck by its presence from the road and its large columnades that speak grandeur before you even set foot onto the property. This grand structure is not what WFB Sr. first laid eyes on in 1922, however. It was originally the residence of Ansel Sterling Esq., the constructor of the dwelling in 1812. A noticeably smaller home than what stands today, the feature that would become its namesake stands prominently in the front yard: a large elm tree, remembered fondly by all who saw it before it died of Dutch elm disease in the 1950s. 

The Buckley patriarch and matriarch, William Sr. and Aloise, first came to Connecticut after being thrust out due to William’s involvement with the American Association of Mexico. They settled in 1923 after renting the property for a season, according to Cameron Smith. Sharon was an unlikely spot for two Southern Catholics; Aloise was a New Orleans native, while William grew up in southern Texas. The Yankee town was known for its role in the iron ore industry during the American Revolution. 

Driving around the area, you can see numerous lime kilns and colonial-era forges. William Sr. was staunchly an American; while spending a large portion of time with and influenced by the cultural aspects of Mexican aristocracy, he saw himself politically as staunchly American, and a conservative and republican American at that. Sharon’s historic elements definitely contributed to the appeal of the Great Elm property. 

As the Buckleys moved in, the house began to conform to their character, becoming a Buckley itself. While in Mexico, William Sr. had begun plans to construct an hacienda, including drawings for a chapel he had hoped to construct for a Mexican residence. Plans in the South never broke ground, but Great Elm instead took on the character of those dreams in quaint New England. Buckley Sr.’s original drawings and ideation were the breath of life for the home seen today.

The living building’s heart and lungs, as put by Cameron Smith, reside in the central patio. Renovations to Great Elm came in the 1930s, when William Sr. put in a third floor and constructed two large wings off the south side of the home. These wings form the main living spaces for the Buckley family proper; the north side of the building housed a large dining room for the adults, a smaller one for the children,  a large kitchen and walk-in freezer, and servant quarters. Between these two southern wings is a three-story courtyard space enclosed with glass and connecting to every room on the south side of the house. This atrium space is a portal straight to the heart of the French Quarter. 

Painted in colors reminiscent of the bayou, William Sr. created a Southern oasis for his Aloise. Wrought-iron railings ring the second level, creating a two-tiered space that took celebrations to new heights. The significant amount of natural light from the glass ceiling also created an optimal area for plant life; on the second level, seven night-blooming cereuses native to Mexico are the focal point, each flower blooming for a single night. Most of the action, both of day-to-day life and events, took place here, emanating life and energy outward to the rest of the house.

Here, all the Buckley quirks line the walls and floors. In addition to the large tile mosaics on the walls of the room, Dutch Delft tiles line the floor, creating a multi-cultural tradition of inlaid art. On the right side of the room, the head of a sable antelope is mounted next to a picture of Priscilla Buckley with her kill. On the left side, a diorama of the Great Elm estate sits below a large painting of the first eight of the ten Buckley children, centering the family in the room even today. The room holds dozens of frames, memories of the family documented in pictorial history.

Mexican tilework stems from this heart like veins, infiltrating the colonial style of the former home. In the library adjacent, tiles line the fireplace and the risers between the bookshelves. In the den, exquisite wood panelwork wows beside blue flower-designed tiles. The house is not a perfectly ordered circulatory system of tiles, however. The dining room walls remain rigidly New England, with floral wallpapers, seascape paintings, and beautiful china. Three of the upstairs bathrooms are built in the Art Deco style of the 1930s. Memorabilia of Maximilian I—the first and last Emperor of Mexico—are casually hanging on the wall or used as furniture. His waistcoat from the night before his execution by firing squad hangs over the main staircase. But what seems like a cacophony of styles is simply textbook Buckley: meticulously planned in maximalist grandeur. All the items work together in juxtaposition, a seemingly dissonant medley resolved to the tune of the Buckley family.

FORMING RELATIONS

The house itself is a testament to the Buckley name, but perhaps more essential is the effect it had on others. A letter by Sylvia Plath to her mother, who visited the house while studying at Smith College, captures the amazement of the young college woman on the night of a Great Elm ball. “Never in my life, and perhaps never again will I live through such a fantastic twenty-four hours.” In flowery descriptions, she opines on the magnificent patio covered in Japanese lanterns and the “elm treetops visible through the glassed-in roof.” She also mentions the dance she had with Bill Buckley and several other college men, from Dartmouth, Princeton, Cornell, and, of course, Yale.  

Bill Buckley was known to visit home on the weekends often during his bright college years. Sam Tanenhaus, in his biography Buckley, details Bill’s purchase of a black Ford sedan to bring his friends with him, for mass and for leisure. One friend, Frank Gorman, recalled a weekend home with six Yale guys and six Vassar College girls piled into the sedan, with overnight suitcases and cases of beer. There would be tennis games, horse rides, piano concerts by Bill and his sister Patricia, and poker played into the evenings. Great Elm played host and brought them all closer together.

Brought particularly close were the Buckley daughters and Yale men. Bill’s friends made attractive suitors, and weekend trips between Vassar, Yale, and Great Elm were responsible for the marriages between Jane Buckley and Bill Smith, Patricia Buckley and L. Brent Bozell Jr., and Bill Buckley and Pat Taylor, Patricia’s roommate at Vassar. Between debating appearances at Vassar and Great Elm weekends, the two sets of lovebirds slowly grew closer until their engagements. Buckley’s weekend trips home for Mass with Bozell at St. Bernard’s were also pivotal for their close-knit connection that led to their working together on McCarthy and His Enemies, and Bozell’s later ghost-writing gig with Barry Goldwater, which produced The Conscience of a Conservative.

This is before we consider the numerous political individuals and groups that have connections to Great Elm. As we were driving off the Great Elm property to tour Sharon, Cameron pointed to a field of grass and casually commented, “That’s where Reagan joined in a Thanksgiving game of touch football.” Countless celebrities have been received in Great Elm’s halls. Of particular importance is the Young Americans for Freedom founding in the Living  Room, surrounded by Aloise’s collection of Czechoslovakian glassware and sitting in Maximillian’s armchairs. The Sharon Statement, crafted and enshrined via a bronze plaque on the property, remains a visible marker of Great Elm’s influence on American political history. 

CONSERVING LEGACY

After the death of William F. Buckley Sr. in 1958, the house did not become stagnant.  From 1980 to 1982, the Buckleys converted the Main House at Great Elm into a Condominium Association and the surrounding 48 acres into a Community Association. Jane Buckley Smith and Priscilla Buckley bought the two adjacent condos that surrounded the Atrium. Several of the house’s unique features are from their modifications. My personal favorite features in the home are the musical door sills that open from the patio into all three wings of the house. One of them depicts taps as you walk towards the Jane Smith bedroom. After Jane and Priscilla died, Cameron and Liza Smith bought both condos and rejoined them as one residence. Great Elm shows their touches as well, including a passthrough made from a repurposed mantelpiece in the library. A home is never ‘complete’; as long as there is a person with a vision, the home can continue to be influenced by its occupants and also influence them in return.

Of course, the other important part is ensuring the home remains standing. Part of the story alluded to above, the divvying up of the house and the estate’s fifty acres in the 1980s, is seriously misrepresented by Tanenhaus, according to Cameron Smith. The property had always been expensive to maintain, but more importantly, none of the family lived there full-time. Without the Buckley family there consistently to fill the home, it lost its purpose. So they began to look for buyers. 

There was one, but the developer wanted to demolish the home and build three or four new mansions along Sharon’s South Main Street. Obviously appalled at such destruction for the sake of profit, the Buckleys found an alternative. The original Great Elm mansion was divided into five condominiums, and the rest of the Estate was divided into 12 lots. Jane Buckley worked with experts to create the Great Elm Homeowners’ Association so other homes could be constructed on the lots. The Buckleys thus came up with a unique solution, as the Davis-Stirling Common Interest Development Act enabling HOAs for widespread use was not enacted until 1985. These innovations allowed Great Elm to remain alive for a new chapter of life, taking on new families to inform its story. 

When lunching with Smith at the end of our time together, I asked him what one thing he wished people knew about the Buckley family and name. After pondering for a second, he offered his response.

“That the Buckleys have always sought to live by principle. We have followed the tradition and excellence of our parents and their siblings, and then sought, and been encouraged, to improve upon it,” Smith said. 

Nothing could better describe the project of Great Elm itself: a plan instituted by William F. Buckley Sr., reflective of the family’s personality, and naturally expanded, modified, and loved over the years of family ownership. Though up for sale now, the home will always retain the character of its predecessors, even as new occupants form it into a new shape. 

Driving back in my rental car, I followed the same route that Bill would have taken in his sedan to return to Yale. As I drove, I thought about what he must have felt as he left home to study, that he might improve on that legacy. In a way, Great Elm—as a Buckley in its own right—has charged every one of its visitors to that same principle of excellence. Even as the Buckley family and Great Elm step out of the limelight, the legacy of the Buckley family is carried by each former guest to this influential estate.

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For photos of spaces discussed in this article, reach out to isaac.oberman@yale.edu.