For Christmas my grandmother treated us to a trip to "America's Largest Home," the Biltmore Estate
outside Asheville, North Carolina. We drove over from Charlotte the day before,
staying at a hotel in town for half what it would have cost to stay in one of
the three hotels on the estate. Robber-baron heir George Vanderbilt (1862-1914) bought the 125,000 acres in the Blue Mountains in the 1880s and began
construction at the age of 32, when he was still a bachelor. He married Edith Stuyvesant Dresser in 1898, and their daughter, Cornelia, was born there in 1900. The French Renaissance house has been handed
down in the Vanderbilt/Cecil Family ever since. Cornelia and her husband opened it to visitors in 1930
in order to increase the revenue of the estate. The grounds are “only” 8,000 acres now, 87,000 acres having been sold to the federal government as Pisgah National
Forest in 1914 after George died of complications from appendicitis surgery and Edith decided she couldn't run such a large tract of land by herself.
In the game room the Christmas tree was decked with pheasant feathers like this wreath on the conservatory--a nod to the gentlemen’s hunts I supposed. The medieval-style Great
Hall banquet room held the only live tree, but it was massive, reaching above
the chandeliers. There are 500 electric light bulbs on it and 200 presents in
and around it. Next on the tour, both the women’s salon and the music room—completed well after the house had opened on Christmas Eve in 1895—had touches from Albrecht Dürer. DH told me he wants an original Dürer mantelpiece for Christmas next year; I told him to dream on.
Nowadays the 12-member floral department plans the next Christmas’s decorations all year. It takes them and 8 volunteers 3 and a half weeks to install all the trees, wreaths, garlands, and other touches. This year’s theme was “a Gilded-Age Christmas” and consisted of richly beribboned greens and classic, jewel-toned ornaments. My favorite display was probably the bare branches filling the alcove at the foot of the back staircase; they were covered in white lights and dripping crystal icicles. Unfortunately photos inside the house are prohibited--probably because the crowds would move even more slowly then. And of course they want you to visit yourself and purchase their merchandise!
The house is massive: there are 35 bedrooms, 65 fireplaces, 43 bathrooms, and 0 sinks. Apparently running water was considered a necessary luxury for running a bath and flushing the toilet, but not for washing hands, which means the germ revolution was only halfway successful, as the bathroom we saw was tiled in the latest hygienic style already.
Upstairs were bed- and sitting rooms for the family on the second floor
and for guests on the third floor. DH and I compared the various well-appointed
rooms to bed and breakfasts at which we have ever stayed. Downstairs in the
basement you can touch the 14-foot-thick foundation walls. In the “Halloween Room” you can see black and white photographs taken during the construction
phase. Actually, the amateur wall paintings don’t have anything to do with All
Hallow’s Eve: the homeowners and their guests did them in advance of a New
Year’s Eve party in 1925. The theme was a Russian folk tale, which accounts of
the witches and black cats. Next door were a two-lane bowling alley, an indoor
swimming pool that unfortunately leaks now, and a gymnasium complete with
parallel bars and “needle showers” (think massage shower heads). Downstairs
were also the female servants’ quarters and all the kitchens and pantries. It was all very "Downton Abbey."
I don't know the name of the fluffy pink flower in the upper left, but it seemed to me to have come straight out of a Dr. Seuss book! |
Then we drove through the grounds to Antler Hill Village, a collection
of shops, restaurants, and a few exhibits around one of the on-site hotels. We walked through the old dairy
barns that now house the winery and stood in line (again!) for a free tasting.
Due to the uncertain handling of checked baggage, none of us bought any bottles to
bring back with us. However, because Biltmore milk and ice cream are supposed
to be famous, we bought generous to-go scoops of mint chocolate chip and black
cherry. The ice cream was soft and fluffy. I would have liked a stronger mint
flavor, but there were real cherry pieces in the other kind, so in all quite
good. Thankfully the rain stopped long enough for us to load up in the van and
hit the road for what turned out to be a scenic but long drive back to Charlotte.
The grounds of the estate are reportedly gorgeous in the early spring,
especially when the dogwoods are in bloom. There is also a rose garden, and
they offer an hour-long upstairs/downstairs tour that I would take if we were
ever back in the area. Apparently Antler Hill Village also offers a number of
outdoor activities like guided horseback rides, fly-fishing classes, and Segway
tours. The place was
crowded for a Monday, maybe due to the holidays, so I probably wouldn’t want to
return on a weekend. I’m sure the estate is doing quite well for itself now!
You did not mention that you first visited the estate when you were about 10 years old. I have been there 4 times. The gardens are at their best in the spring and early summer. I might go there again to see the gardens, but I will never - I repeat never climb all those stairs again. That Christmas with so much of our family here was wonderful. Atime I will always treasure
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed the pictures and the remembrances. The bad thing for us was that your grandfather barely made it up the stairs from the basement and had to be lifted up by 4 strong young men. I should never have taken him down to the basement, but that is hindsight.
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