20 Following his return from Europe in 1886 and increasingly after the 1889 trip, Hunt was involved with work on large domestic commissions. These large residences were among his most noteworthy work, and THE GRAND today he is probably best remembered for the lavish mansions he de- MANNER signed for plutocrats of the Gilded Age. By the mid-1880s Hunt had become the most fashionable architect of his time, and some undoubt- edly considered a house designed by him to be a badge of high social position. All these large houses, of course, were created with a particular life style in mind, which Hunt himself readily entered into and enjoyed, even though he did not fully share it. Of all the building types he employed, the architect seemed to find the designing of large private houses most congenial. He could provide his very wealthy clients what they wanted and what they needed, indulging their whims and satisfy- ing their vanity, while giving himself the satisfaction of creating elegant buildings in different architectural styles and with a decorative richness that few other architects were able to achieve. The very large private houses built in the United States in ever greater numbers during the final years of the nineteenth century and the opening years of the twentieth have frequently been characterized as vehicles of ostentation and conspicuous consumption, erected by newly rich owners who were insecure in their social position and who hoped to gain self-satisfaction and recognition by impressing others with their material wealth. No doubt much of the building of great houses did have behind it a competitive drive to outshine others. With their lack of a firmly established class system and acceptance of the democratic myth of universal equality on the one hand, and their desire for achievement and individual distinction on the other, many Americans have had con- siderable uncertainty about who they are and where they belong. Al- though group identity has been fairly well established throughout the history of the nation, individual identity has been less readily fixed upon, and tension has been characteristic, and perhaps even endemic, among Americans, given the conflict between democratic uniformity and social differentiation. An exceptionally large and richly appointed dwelling probably could for some relieve insecurities about social posi- tion and satisfy personal ambition and pride. Moreover, Americans had the European tradition to emulate: English and Continental experience suggested that high social position was usually associated with elegant residences. In the post-Civil War decades, wealth in the United States came into the hands of owner-investors at an ever increasing rate from the de- veloping transportation system, industrial and commercial expansion, Paul R Baker. Richard Morris Hunt. Cambridge: MIT Press, 1980. financial manipulations, and the soaring values of real estate. The many 335 new American millionaires most often were men who came from families which had already accumulated substantial wealth-far more than the average-and who had had advantages of good education and of superior vocational opportunity. Many of them did not need to prove themselves socially in any way, since their status was already acknowl- edged. For some, like Alva Vanderbilt, marrying into the Vanderbilt family was not enough, however, and she made use of her new château on Fifth Avenue to solidify and even raise her own and her immediate family's position. Social competitiveness such as she displayed was not unusual.¹ But the motivations for erecting these very large houses were more complex than pecuniary emulation and social ambition. Indeed, the rea- sons might be very private or philanthropic or idealistic: the big house as a gift to a loved one, or to show the owner's simple pride in being rich; or the mansion as a residence with an aura of stability and security for a large family, for generations to come; or the huge building as a project providing employment to workers for its construction and its continuing maintenance, and thus an economic benefit to a local com- munity; or the great dwelling as itself a work of art and a means of beautification of the community; or the house and its contents as provid- ing patronage to artists; or the American "palace" as a national treasure, bringing to the country something that Europe already had and America did not. 2 The role of the architect in conceiving the big houses must not be underestimated. By and large, well-to-do house builders hired architects as experts who could provide a specific service, like other experts. In some cases architects possibly pushed their clients toward ever grander conceptions because their own fees were based on a percentage of total costs-the higher the expenditure, the greater the commission to the designer. And perhaps sometimes architects hoped to improve their own positions both in business, by attracting additional clients, and socially, by making their names more widely known, by erecting ever grander buildings. But another factor cannot be overlooked, and this was true in Hunt's case: the architect would work, as he felt necessary, to elevate taste by bringing beauty, as he saw it, on a substantial scale both to the inhabitants of the dwelling and to the community where the house was located. Hunt, who never had to doubt his own status, wanted to provide his American upper-class clients with a fitting ambi- ence, one that elevated taste and conferred dignity. The large and well-conceived house, designed by one knowledgeable in the arts and 336 acquainted with the best of the European past, could be justified as THE GRAND educative for its inhabitants and as serving, by its very presence, as an MANNER example to the larger society. 3 Criticism of the great houses was not infrequent. The mansions were attacked as wasteful of resources, as conducive to selfish indulgence and sloth, as alien to the American experience, and ideals, as undemocratic, and as leading to class hatreds and conflict. Obviously, the great houses contrasted sharply with the wretched places that a large part of the American populace had to exist in. To some critics, the money spent on such large and luxurious residences could be better spent in other ways, such as providing for parks, monuments, and public buildings to beautify the cities. While architectural critics often took pleasure in the great houses because of the variety of architectural ideas that were em- bodied in them, the attitudes of social critics generally were unfavor- able.4 Hunt's great houses designed from the latter 1880s to the mid-1890s included buildings that expanded on architectural concepts he had used earlier as well as structures that moved in what were for him new stylis- tic directions. In these works he looked to the European past for general style and specific details. And in these country mansions, New York town houses, and Newport "cottages," he worked on a scale considera- bly grander than that of most of his earlier work. Levi P. Morton was one of Hunt's clients for a large country house. Years earlier, in 1869, Hunt had added a ballroom to Morton's Newport house, Fairlawn, and in 1871 he had designed a stable for Morton on East Forty-Second Street in Manhattan. When Morton returned to the United States in 1885, after having served as American minister to France, he decided to sell his Newport house and purchase an estate nearer to New York City. He employed his friend Hunt in 1886 and 1887 to create a large country house, named Ellerslie, on a thousand-acre site he acquired at Rhinecliff-on-Hudson, New York. Besides the main house, Hunt and his staff also designed several auxiliary buildings for the estate, including a dairy, a laundry, stables, an engine and boiler house, and the entrance gates. In November 1888, as already noted, the Hunts were at Ellerslie on election night as the returns came in and Morton was elected vice-president on the ticket with Benjamin Harrison. The following year Hunt was asked to serve as arbitrator in a dispute between Maitland Armstrong, who prepared the glass for Ellerslie, and Morton, and between the farm superintendent and the owner. Hunt frequently was called upon to arbitrate such disputes. Ellerslie had a vaguely Elizabethan look. The massive two-and-one- half-story house (figure 85) was characterized by Tudor half-timber work 337 at both the second-story and third-story gable levels, rising above a ground story enveloped by large verandas, various projecting bays and pavilions, and a broad porte cochere. The varied planes of the high roof, with its many gables, dormers, and chimneystacks, provided a pic- turesque complement to the irregularities on the side wall planes, bro- ken not only by the half-timbering but also by the solids and voids of differently shaped projecting sections and of the verandas, balconies, and a loggia, patterned with intricate stickwork.6 In three other large houses, Hunt turned in a different direction, possibly influenced to some extent by the work of Henry Hobson Richardson, whose brilliant career was terminated by his early death in 1886. Grey Towers, the Milford, Pennsylvania, estate of James Wallace Pinchot, a New York businessman whose family had settled in Milford and who was associated with Hunt in several New York clubs, was also built mainly in 1885 and 1886. A large, rustic-looking structure (figure 86), having a commanding view of the Delaware River Valley, the dwel- ling was designed in a late French medieval style. The mansion is faced with rough-textured gray stone and is dominated by three squat, conical-roofed towers, each sixty-three feet high and twenty feet in diameter, rising at three of the corners of the building. Hunt apparently planned for a larger dwelling than Pinchot was willing to erect, and some of the dimensions of the forty-one-room house were scaled down during its construction. When the Hunts visited Grey Towers in June 1888, Catharine found it a "perfectly enchanting" place, having "a character about it quite unlike anything else in America." This very romantic dwelling, now owned by the U.S. Forest Service, houses the Pinchot Institute for Conservation Studies and is open to the For Archibald public.7 Rogers, Hunt worked on the estate of Crumwold at Hyde Park, New York, from 1886 to 1889, creating another impressive large country house. Faced with roughly dressed Maine granite, Crum- wold Hall was erected on a knoll commanding extensive views of the Hudson River and Valley. Including servants' quarters, the kitchen, and storerooms, the two-and-one-half-story mansion has some fifty rooms, which center on a main hall, used originally at times as a ballroom. Like Grey Towers, Crumwold (figure 87) has three conical-roofed, rounded towers, rising, in this case, at the corners and center of the garden façade. On the side where the main low-arched entrance is located, the heavy rough stone and the comparatively small window openings give the mansion an almost fortress-like solidity. On the sides toward the river, the walls are pierced by considerably more and larger windows, provid- The commission that in some ways culminated Hunt's body of creative 23 work was yet another Vanderbilt residence-the mansion of Biltmore, near Asheville, North Carolina. The project was originally conceived as a country seat for winter and spring occupancy away from the cold of BILTMORE New York City, but gradually developed into something else-a great château and an increasingly enlarged estate on which was carried out the first significant endeavor at systematic scientific forest management and education in the United States. Although Hunt's principal concern was with the house itself, his architectural work was an integral part of the fashioning of the estate, which was directed by Frederick Law Olmsted. During the final six years of his life, Biltmore occupied Hunt more than any other of his several projects. 1 Biltmore House, a French château set in some 125,000 acres of land, in an area largely occupied by poor dirt farmers, was a curious venture even in the 1890s. Requiring the services of scores of house servants, stablemen, and gardeners to maintain the establishment, as well as large crews for the greenhouses, the dairy, the arboretum, and the forestry work the estate was, on the one hand, a monument to Gilded Age extravagance. Yet programs of scientific forest management, dairy farm- ing, rural road building, and collecting of botanical specimens gave the project substantial social importance Hunt's opportunity to erect a great house in appropriate surroundings-unlike the cramped conditions of New York and of Newport-and his chance to design almost without limitations on expenditure allowed him here more than anywhere else to indulge his grandest architectural ideals and satisfy most fully his cre- ative energies and aesthetic requirements. In time the château came to seem to be married to its site, perfectly in place in the midst of its gardens, grounds, farms, and forests. George Washington Vanderbilt, Hunt's client, was the younger brother of Cornelius and William Kissam Vanderbilt. When his father, William Henry Vanderbilt, died in 1885, George was left as his share of the paternal estate his parents' house at 640 Fifth Avenue and a sum of $10,000,000, far less than the $67,000,000 that Cornelius inherited or the $65,000,000 that William received. For some years George lived with his mother in the Fifth Avenue mansion and concerned himself with philan- thropy, the arts, and education. He provided the funds for the library on West Thirteenth Street, which Hunt designed, and he purchased the property of the Bloomingdale Asylum in Morningside Heights, which he donated to Columbia University for a new campus for Teachers Col- lege. Hunt had already done considerable work for George Vanderbilt at the family farm at New Dorp on Staten Island and at the family mausoleum near by. He also remodeled for him a house on West Fifty- 413 Third Street and built a new picture gallery and conservatory in the house at 640 Fifth Avenue. 2 George Vanderbilt was remarkably different in appearance and temperament from his brothers Cornelius and William, who shared their father's and their grandfather's involvement in business. His interests, by contrast, were mainly artistic and literary. He loved land- scape architecture and interior decoration. With his dark hair and black eyes, a black moustache, and his narrow sensitive face, he looked vaguely foreign. He was shy as a young man, and Gifford Pinchot when he first met him thought him rather simpleminded. Perhaps more than his brothers and sisters he felt a personal sense of social responsibility and was eager to use his money well rather than in idle pleasure. Those working with him at Biltmore always wrote of him with affection and respect. Hunt considered George Vanderbilt as close to him as one of his own children; he always enjoyed visiting him at Biltmore because of the "atmosphere of affection and attention" he found and the "perfect har- mony" they shared. Olmsted judged Vanderbilt "a delicate, refined and bookish man; with considerable humor, but shrewd, sharp, exacting and resolute in matters of business." The house and estate of Biltmore became the passion of Vanderbilt's life, and into them he sank most of his fortune.³ Sometime in the mid-1880s, George Vanderbilt and his mother first visited Asheville, which had long been a resort popular among North- erners for its pleasant climate. The young man enjoyed taking long walks and horseback rides in the invigorating air. On one ride, some three miles from Asheville, he came upon a spot overlooking the French Broad River close to its junction with the Swannanoa River, and was especially impressed by the view. He almost immediately decided that he would like to have a house there. The area was of broken, hilly land bordering on the two river bot- toms and was held by small farmers who had long since cut much of the timber for fuel, fences, and lumber. Vanderbilt soon acquired a few acres of land at a low price. He then decided that he did not want to risk having uncongenial neighbors close by, and so he sent an agent to buy out the nearest farms but kept his name out of the negotiations to pre- vent the residents from holding out for "Vanderbilt prices." Later, as he enlarged his holdings and his identity became known, one black farmer held out and refused to sell his nine acres in the heart of the Vanderbilt acquisition, declaring that he had "no objection to George Vanderbilt as a neighbor." But he too finally sold his land.4 414 In 1888, when he had purchased some two thousand acres of land BILTMORE and was considering making a large park around his projected house, Vanderbilt asked Frederick Law Olmsted, who had landscaped the fam- ily mausoleum, to look over the property and advise him as to how it might best be developed. Visiting the site with young Vanderbilt, Olm- sted was greatly disappointed with what he found. The air was indeed mild and invigorating and the prospect was lovely, but the soil was poor, the woods were in a deplorable condition, and the topography, Olmsted believed, was not suitable for a large park. But even though he considered it "a generally poor and vagabondish region," he did think that the site had potential. He advised Vanderbilt to have gardens and a small park developed near the house. The river bottoms, he suggested, should be used for farming and grazing, and the rest of the land turned into a forest, planting old fields with trees and improving the existing woods, with the ultimate aim of producing timber. As Olmsted later recalled his conversation, he told Vanderbilt: "That would be a suitable and dignified business for you to engage in: it would, in the long run, be probably a fair investment of capital and it would be of great value to the country to have a thoroughly well organized and systematically con- ducted attempt in forestry made on a large scale." Vanderbilt responded positively to Olmsted's advice, and after a few months decided to go ahead with the project. He engaged the landscape architect to oversee the development of the estate, while Hunt was employed to design the house. Vanderbilt continued to acquire additional land, so that he had more than six thousand acres by the beginning of 1891. In the meantime, Olmsted had arranged for a thorough inventory of the land, set up a nursery for trees and shrubs, planted seedling trees in some of the old fields, and begun preparations for removal of the trees that were in poor condition.5 Although George Vanderbilt's early ideas for his country house were fairly modest and conventional, he soon changed his mind about the dwelling, apparently largely influenced by Hunt, who urged him to build on a scale commensurate with the size of the holdings and the natural features of the property. (Later on, as the mansion took shape, Hunt wrote to Catharine elatedly that "the mountains are just the right size and scale for the chateau!") On various European trips-including the short 1889 visit with the Hunts-Vanderbilt had accumulated art objects, furnishings, and architectural elements for his dwelling, and it soon became evident that a very large house would be needed to ac- commodate his collections. Already by early March 1889, Hunt had re- vised his first designs for the residence and had created a new set of 415 plans on a very grand scale.6 Olmsted was enthusiastic about these revised plans for the mansion, which Hunt had prepared, although he felt that the precise placement of the structure still had to be worked out. Since Hunt had not yet visited Asheville in March 1889, Olmsted, who had been there the year before, stressed to him the bleakness of the place and the lack of any special picturesqueness at the site, the only attraction being the spectacular view to the west. It was essential, Olmsted believed, that the house be given the best possible position in terms of the natural situation as well as in relation to the approaches, the gardens, and the other features which were being planned. The wind from the northwest, which hit the rise where the house was to be built, could be very bitter, Olmsted pointed out. He suggested to Hunt that the stables and offices be located with walled courts in front, stretching east from the north end of the mansion so as to form a windbreak and protect from the wind the esplanade, which Olmsted was planning to extend eastward in front of the house. He also suggested a sheltered glen for walks in the area to the southeast shielded by the house from the northwest wind. He pointed out that a terrace adjoining the dwelling on the south could provide a promenade and viewing place overlooking the valley as well as shield the ramble to the southeast, and he advised that the greenhouses be located farther down the slope below the ramble. Olmsted was anxious to get Hunt's agreement on these matters, but he assured the architect that he did not want to "cross [his] views." Preliminary construction work got under way in 1889. Hunt and Olmsted quickly agreed on the positioning of the house and the adjacent service buildings and gardens, and by midsummer 1889 the outlines of the mansion were marked by stakes; however, in January 1890, to pro- vide a more secure foundation, the position of the house was moved twenty-five feet to the east and the grading of the esplanade was altered. A road was built to provide access to the building site; a small but substantial residence nearby called Brick House was made over into a temporary residence for Vanderbilt, Olmsted, Hunt, and others to use on their visits; a three-mile railway spur was begun for hauling in build- ing materials; and a village for estate employees was started. The name "Biltmore," which Vanderbilt chose for his estate, was derived from the Dutch town of Bildt, from which the Vanderbilt ancestors had come, and "more," an Old English word for rolling upland country.8 When Hunt paid his first visit to Biltmore early in 1890, work was 416 going on throughout the estate. He returned again in the late spring and occas BILTMORE brought along his son, Dick, who would supervise much of the architec- was f tural work. On this occasion they traveled with George Vanderbilt in his at Bri private railway car, which was pulled to the esplanade on the first train in O running on the newly completed spur. By this time several hundred alrea workmen were already engaged in grading the land and clearing the their forests, building roads and drainage works, and planting trees. A brick the A kiln was turning out 32,000 bricks a day. The mansion foundations had lier, been dug but awaited the stone to be brought in from Indiana on the Hunt railroad spur. Hunt believed that everything was progressing rapidly repor and well- -"nothing being spared by G. W. V. If it is not a success the was. fault will lie with us, who are called upon to do our best," he wrote to his years wife. By this time public interest in Biltmore was beginning to grow as L press reports came out on the progress of the works. Vanderbilt, how- oper ever, like his sister-in-law at Marble House, attempted to keep news- fami papermen and strangers out of the grounds before the mansion was vani finished so that it could be first shown publicly in its full splendor. earli Olmsted felt "a good deal of ardor" about the work at Biltmore. The year estate, he believed, was of great public interest and significance and, trav next to the Boston parks system, was the most important project his firm ture was engaged in. Indeed, he wrote to his partners, Biltmore "is the most cons permanently important public work and the most critical with reference Hur to the future of our professions of all those we have. The most critical visi and the most difficult." In another letter to his partners, Olmsted re- cha: ferred to Biltmore as "the most distinguished private place, not only of kno America, but of the world, forming at this period."10 first Over the next five years, Hunt regularly visited Asheville, while his chit son Dick remained there for long periods. Richard Hunt often traveled dis there with Vanderbilt in his private railway car, sometimes in the com- the pany of other members of the Vanderbilt family. At times, Olmsted, his on associate Henry Codman, or his son John Olmsted were also at Biltmore Du, when Hunt was making one of his visits. Brick House, used to accom- esta modate the visitors, though not luxurious, was comfortable; when Van- dis derbilt was in residence the guests were especially well cared for. Dur- me ing the days, supervision and inspection of the works alternated with drives, horseback rides, and shooting. Dick Hunt liked to take excur- set sions on horseback and shoot small game and birds when he stayed at su: Biltmore. His father, who had "a genuine fear" of horses, refused to ride an horseback around the estate and always used a buckboard instead. wi When ladies were in residence at Brick House, there were long evenings sel of card games, charades, and candy pulls. Catharine Hunt, who came ph d occasionally, was a lively addition to these house parties, and if Hunt 417 was feeling well and, as Gifford Pinchot put it, "at concert pitch," those at Brick House had "his delightful noise all the time." Visiting the estate in October 1890, Hunt fell ill with influenza, which Olmsted, who was already suffering from lumbago, then caught. Both were confined to their rooms. Hunt recovered too late to get to the annual convention of the American Institute of Architects in Washington and, as noted ear- lier, had to send his presidential address to be read in absentia. After Hunt had left for the north with Vanderbilt following this visit, Olmsted reported to his own son that Hunt appeared to be feebler than he himself e was. Both men were feeling their age; each had only five more working is years. 11 IS Late in 1891, Vanderbilt hired Gifford Pinchot to direct the forestry operations on the Biltmore estate. Pinchot, who came from the wealthy family for whom Hunt had designed Grey Towers in Milford, Pennsyl- vania, had taken a bachelor's degree at Yale College only two years earlier. Eager to learn forestry management, he had then studied for a e year in France at the Ecole Nationale Forestière at Nancy and had traveled widely in France, Switzerland, and Germany, studying silvicul- ture and becoming acquainted with Dietrich Brandis, who was widely considered to be the leading forestry expert of Europe. Olmsted, like Hunt, an old friend of Pinchot's father, invited the young forester to visit Biltmore in October 1891. Arriving there he "was amazed and charmed by [the] situation and scale of [the] new place." Pinchot had known the Hunt family for some time. He saw Hunt at Biltmore on this first visit and had long talks with Olmsted about the landscape ar- chitect's plans for the estate. The following month, after he had further discussed the situation at Biltmore with Olmsted in Boston, he accepted the position of director of forestry operations and returned to Asheville on New Year's Day with Olmsted, Hunt, Vanderbilt, and Dick Hunt. During the week of their stay Olmsted took Pinchot over the entire estate and instructed him carefully on the work that was proposed. They discussed the possibility of establishing a school of forestry manage- ment at Biltmore. 12 Pinchot began work as chief Biltmore forester in February 1892. He set out to inventory the forest land with a very precise topographical survey, and he expanded on Olmsted's program of thinning, cutting, and planting. From the first, harvesting was carried on simultaneously with planting and improvement. By the end of his first year, Pinchot's selective lumbering operations showed a small profit. He also prepared a photographic exhibit and pamphlet on Biltmore Forest for the World's 418 Columbian Exposition. Both drew considerable public attention to this BILTMORE first program of comprehensive practical forest management in the United States. Meanwhile, George Vanderbilt, on Pinchot's recom- mendation, was enlarging his land holdings. Eventually the estate was expanded to some 125,000 acres, 13 On Pinchot's recommendation also, Carl Alvin Schenck of the Uni- versity of Darmstadt in Germany came to work at Biltmore in 1895 as resident forester, at which time Pinchot himself became a nonresident consultant. In 1898, Schenck set up the Biltmore School of Forestry, which operated until the outbreak of World War I. The forestry work at Biltmore had implications far beyond the work carried on at the estate itself. A whole generation of foresters was trained at the Biltmore School, and the techniques of forestry management practiced and taught at Biltmore were widely adopted elsewhere. Even earlier, before the school was set up, J. Sterling Morton, the United States Secretary of Agriculture, commended Vanderbilt for his interest in forestry, while saying regretfully that "Mr. Vanderbilt has more workers and a larger budget for his forestry projects than I have at my disposal for the whole Department of Agriculture." In both the forestry work and the erection of the mansion and the preparation of the gardens, Vanderbilt employed a force of several hundred workmen, and with the large labor force building went on at an impressive pace. During 1892, the understructure of the dwelling, with its complex of boiler rooms, storerooms, dynamo rooms, a laundry, a swimming pool, dressing rooms, and food preparation areas, was largely completed. Steel beams were used for floor joists, and by the end of 1893, the second story had mostly been finished. In 1894, most of the steel rafters and the stonework of the upper parts of the mansion were set in place (figure 114). By Christmas 1895, five months after Hunt's death, the estate was a going concern, and Vanderbilt, his mother, and many relatives and friends celebrated the formal opening of the house. 15 As the Biltmore work advanced, Hunt and Olmsted maintained a harmonious collaboration, disagreeing only for a time about a pergola which Olmsted wanted placed at the outer end of the terrace that ex- tended south from the library wing and about the arrangement of the streets in Biltmore Village. Hunt came around to Olmsted's view on the suitability of the pergola and acquiesced in Olmsted's platting of the village in an English rather than a French manner. Olmsted was pleased that he and Hunt had been able to reconcile their requirements for an appropriate setting for the mansion with "a generally picturesque natural character in the approaches and in the main landscape features." which he was dying." Some time after completing the painting, Sargent 431 offered to make Catharine a copy, but she had no wish for the portrait, as it lacked all the "fire" and "vigor" of her husband's personality. 22 Contemporary response to Biltmore was by and large highly favora- ble. A description of the estate published in The Chautauquan, no doubt keyed to the upward-striving middle-class reader, was typically en- thusiastic: Biltmore was "the finest, largest, and most magnificent pri- vate estate on this continent," which, when everything was completed, would be "unexcelled in the civilized world." Joseph Choate, who was used to the luxuries of life, felt, on his visit in 1901, that the mansion "constantly grows upon one and is truly a great affair-a worthy monu- ment to Richard Hunt as his last work." Another visitor found the house "one long tale of delight. the proportions and scale, combined with the details, fill one with the kind of peace which comes from artistic perfection. "22 One who did not like Biltmore was Henry James, who visited the estate on his American tour in February 1905. Having fled from the icy winter of New York City, James arrived in the middle of a snowstorm to find the southern retreat insufferably cold. His caustic remarks were possibly influenced in part by the state of his health: he was suffering from the gout and had lost a front tooth. The place was imposing, James opined, but "utterly unaddressed to any possible arrangement of life, or state of society." It was, he decided, only "a phenomenon of brute achievement." His own room, "a glacial phantasy," was located about half a mile from the "mile-long library. We measure by leagues and we sit in Cathedrals," he wrote a friend. James stayed nearly a week, but confined indoors in the largely empty house with little social stimulation he felt cooped up and wanted only to leave. He went on to Charleston and Palm Beach, where warmth and flowers restored his spirits. 24 George Vanderbilt used Biltmore as his principal home and was often in residence there after his marriage to Edith Stuyvesant Dresser in 1898. Following Vanderbilt's death in 1914, an area of over eighty thousand acres was deeded to the federal government and became part of Pisgah National Forest. Further acreage was developed into the town of Biltmore Forest, and some was sold for the Blue Ridge Parkway. The Vanderbilt's only child, a daughter, Cornelia, who married John Francis Amherst Cecil, inherited the property, and Mr. and Mrs. Cecil made it their home. In 1930, the Cecils opened Biltmore house and gardens to the public. Today the estate, including some eleven thousand acres of land, is both a prominent tourist attraction and an active business en- gaged in dairy farming and sustained-yield forestry operations. 25 520 Professions in America, 22. CCHH, HP, p. 211. 4. For a negative criti- tional 1 NOTES TO PAGES 329-349 ed. Kenneth S. Lynn cism, see E. L. Godkin, The I (Boston, 1965), p. 3, 23. Ibid., pp. 212-213. "The Expenditure of Pincho A Miss Grant was the stresses "commitment" Rich Men," Scribner's close fr to the group and its sculptor. Magazine, XX (Oct. chots' interests as perhaps the 24. Ibid., pp. 213-217. 1896), 500-501. stayed most important founda- Newpc tional element of profes- 25. Ibid., pp. 217, 220; 5. CCHH, HP, pp. 186, 1884-18 188, 211, 222; Robert sionalism. undated clipping, Mis- her mo cellany Scrapbook, HC. McElroy, Levi Parsons travele 17. CCHH, HP, p. 245; Morton, Banker, Dip- in Euro RMH to J. W. Root, Oct. CHAPTER 20 lomat and Statesman Materi 8, 1890, HC. (New York, 1930), p. 1. That most of the rich Pinchc 167; NBD, No. 994 of 18. RMH, "Presidential were not self-made but brary C 1871. were instead largely a brief Address," American In- stitute of Architects, Pro- born to wealth was al- 6. Ellerslie was de- March ceedings, Twenty-Fourth ready true before the stroyed by fire on Oct. ford P. Convention, 1890 Civil War, the so-called 27, 1950. Catha: "era of the common Hunt (Chicago, 1891), pp. 9, 13. CCHH, HP, p. 206, man": see Edward Pes- 7. David A. Clary, Desig: sen, Riches, Class, and Head, History Section, Tower indicated that RMH was U.S.D.A. Forest Service, offered the post of Power Before the Civil n. 5). to the author, June 21, supervising architect in War (Lexington, Mass., 1973), p. 303. 1977; CCHH, HP, p. 200; 8. CC 1886. Pennsylvania: A Guide to 205. 19. RMH, "Opening 2. Edward C. Kirkland, the Keystone State, com- 9. Ibi Address to Twenty-Fifth Dream and Thought in the piled by workers of the toine Annual Convention," Business Community, Writers' Program of the Vince Oct. 28, 1891, American 1860-1900 (Ithaca, N.Y., Work Projects Adminis- The A Institute of Architects, 1956; reprinted Chicago, tration (New York, 1940; tage 0 Proceedings (Chicago, 1964), pp. 33-37, 41; 4th printing, 1950), p. land, 1892), pp. 9-16; RMH, Jacob Landy, "The 356. See also The bridg "Address, Delivered at Domestic Architecture of Preservation/Design rev. E the 25th Annual Con- the 'Robber Barons' in Group, Grey Towers: Pre- Mont vention of the A.I.A. at New York City," Mar- liminary Historic Struc- "The Boston, Mass.," Inland syas, V (1947-1949), 76; ture Report (Albany, Rich Architect and News Rec- Allen Churchill, The N.Y., 1978). Grey Tow- chite ord, XVIII (Nov. 1891), Splendor Seekers (New ers was donated by the (Oct 39-41; CCHH, HP, p. York, 1974), p. 96; Harry Pinchot family to the 253. W. Desmond and Her- Conservation Founda- 10. I bert Croly, Stately Homes tion and then to the U.S. 1890 20. CCHH, HP, p. 211. in America (New York, Department of Agricul- 11. ( 1903), pp. 12, 280, and ture Forest Service as 21. Ibid., p. 211; Clar- Seeke passim. headquarters for the ence W. Bowen, History "Do: Pinchot Institute for of the Centennial Celebra- 3. Desmond and Croly, Conservation Studies. In of th tion (New York, 1892), Stately Homes, pp. 318- 1963 the estate was des- 73; pp. 244, 360, 408, 414. 323. Mor ignated a registered na- tional historic landmark. and Work," Architecture chill, Splendor Seekers, 521 The Hunt and James and Building, XXIII (Dec. pp. 114-115. Pinchot families were 7, 1895), 274. close friends. The Pin- 18. Landy, "Domestic 12. CCHH, HP, p. 252; Architecture of the chots' daughter Nettie New York Times, Mar. 26, 'Robber Barons,'" 73; stayed with the Hunts in Newport in the winter of 1893, p. 11; New York O'Connor, The Astors, 1884-1885, and she and Sun, Aug. 2, 1895, in pp. 236, 280, 333-334; Obituaries Scrapbook, Herbert Croly, "The her mother at times HC; NBD, No. 537 of Work of Richard Morris traveled with the Hunts 1892. Hunt," Architectural in Europe in 1885- 1886. Record, LIX (Jan. 1926), Materials in the Gifford 13. Schuyler, "The 88-89. Pinchot Papers at the Li- Works of the Late brary of Congress reveal Richard M. Hunt," 131; 19. CCHH, HP, pp. 197, a brief "engagement" in New York Times, Feb. 9, 221. March 1885 between Gif- 1929, p. 5. ford Pinchot and 20. Schuyler, "The Catharine Howland 14. Harvey O'Connor, Works of the Late Hunt (see Preservation The Astors (New York, Richard M. Hunt," Design Group, Grey 1941), p. 236; New York 165-168. To Schuyler, Towers, pp. 10 and 31, Times, Mar. 3, 1893, p. "the design of the house n. 5). 11; NBD, No. 36, of 1893. itself is most distinctly and triumphantly suc- 8. CCHH, HP, pp. 195, 15. Mildred Frances cessful," and it was 205. Brenner, "Richard Mor- surely an outstanding ris Hunt, Architect," "example of a free and 9. Ibid., p. 222; An- M.A. thesis, New York romantic domestic ar- toinette F. Downing and University, 1944, p. 72. chitecture" no "less Vincent F. Scully, Jr., The Architectural Heri- 16. Schuyler, "The noteworthy than the châteaux of the Loire." tage of Newport, Rhode Is- Works of the Late land, 1640-1915 (Cam- Richard M. Hunt," 172; Banister Fletcher, the bridge, Mass., 1952; 2d Ferree, "Richard Morris British architectural Hunt," 275; Landy, historian, however, rev. ed., 1967), p. 165; "Domestic Architecture found "nothing very Montgomery Schuyler, "The Works of the Late of the 'Robber Barons,' remarkable in [this] house" which seemed to Richard M. Hunt," Ar- 74; Alan Burnham, "The chitectural Record, V New York Architecture him "rather hard in of Richard Morris treatment": Bannister (Oct.-Dec. 1895), 129. Hunt," Journal of the So- Fletcher, "American Ar- 10. NBD, No. 1485 of ciety of Architectural chitecture through En- 1890. Historians, XI (May glish Spectacles," En- 11. Churchill, Splendor 1952), 14. gineering Magazine, VII (June 1894), 315. In the Seekers, p. 71; Landy, 17. Anon., "The Resi- twentieth century, An- "Domestic Architecture dence of Col. John Jacob toinette F. Downing and of the 'Robber Barons,' Astor," Architectural Vincent F. Scully, Jr., 73; Barr Ferree, "Richard Record, XXVII (June have judged Ochre Morris Hunt: His Art 1910), 470-482; Chur- Court an "academically 2. Wayne Andrews, The Aster, Oct. 29, 1888, "George Vanderbilt's 531 Vanderbilt Legend (New Gen. Corres., Box 22, Southern Home," Ar- York, 1941), p. 333; Frederick Law Olmsted chitecture and Building, CCHH, HP, p. 248; to James Gall, Oct. 30, XII (May 31, 1890), 258; ABD, No. 1296 of 1886; 1888, Gen. Corres., Box Anon., "Mr. George NBD, No. 1536 of 1887. 22, and Frederick Law Vanderbilt's House at Olmsted to George W. Asheville, N.C.," Ameri- 3. Consuelo Vanderbilt Vanderbilt, Nov. 6, 1889, can Architect and Building Balsan, The Glitter and Private Estates, Box 43, News, XXIX (July 12, the Gold (New York, all in Olmsted Papers. 1890), 18; Roper, FLO p. 1952), p. 4; Gifford Pin- 416. chot, Breaking New 6. Quoted in CCHH, Ground (New York, HP, p. 289; Frederick 10. Frederick Law Olm- 1947), p. 48; Carl Alwin Law Olmsted to George sted to W. A. Schenck, The Biltmore W. Vanderbilt, Mar. 2, Thompson, Nov. 6, Story: Recollections of the 1889, Private Estates, 1889, Private Estates, Beginning of Forestry in Box 43, Olmsted Papers; Box 43, Frederick Law the United States, ed. by William A. V. Cecil, Olmsted to his partners, Ovid Butler (St. Paul, "Biltmore," pamphlet Oct. 28, 1893, Gen. Cor- 1955), p. 32; Gifford Pin- (Asheville, 1972), pp. res., Box 24, Frederick chot, Diary, Oct. 18, 12-27; Edward F. Tur- Law Olmsted to his 1891, Pinchot Papers, berg, "Frederick Law partners, May 3, 1894, Manuscript Division, Olmsted at Biltmore," Private Estates, Box 43, Library of Congress; M.A. thesis, University Olmsted Papers; Freder- CCHH, HP, pp. 233, of Virginia, 1973, ick Law Olmsted to his 296; Frederick Law Olm- passim. partners, Nov. 1, 1893, sted to Frederick Kings- quoted in Roper, FLO, 7. Frederick Law Olm- bury, Jan. 20, 1891, Gen. p. 453. sted to RMH, Mar. 2, Corres., Box 23, Olmsted 1889, copy in Private Es- 11. Frederick Law Olm- Papers, Manuscript Di- tates, Box 43, Olmsted sted to John Olmsted, vision, Library of Con- Papers; Laura Wood Oct. 24, Oct. 25, Oct. 27, gress. Roper, FLO: A Biography 1890, and Oct. 11, 1891, 4. Frederick Law Olm- of Frederick Law Olmsted Private Estates, Box 43, sted to Frederick Kings- (Baltimore, 1973), p. 416. and Oct. 29, 1890, Gen. bury, Jan. 20, 1891, Gen. Corres., Box 23, Olmsted 8. Frederick Law Olm- Corres., Box 23, Olmsted Papers; Gifford Pinchot sted to George W. Van- Papers; Pinchot, Biltmore to his mother, Feb. 28, derbilt, Mar. 26, 1889, Forest, pp. 7-8; quoted March 13, 1892, and n.d. in Fannie C. W. Bar- and Henry S. Codman to [1892], Family Corre- RMH, Feb. 7, 1890, Pri- bour, "A Palace in The spondence files, and Gif- vate Estates, Box 43, Land of the Sky,'" ford Pinchot, Diary, Oct. Chautauquan, XXI (June copies in Olmsted Pa- 14, Dec. 30, and Dec. 31, pers; Roper, FLO, p. 416; 1895), 324. 1891, and Jan. 1, and Jan. Turberg, "Frederick Law 3, 1892, Pinchot Papers; 5. Frederick Law Olm- Olmsted at Biltmore," Roper, FLO, p. 419; sted to Frederick Kings- pp. 30-31. CCHH, HP, p. 244. bury, Jan. 20, 1891, Gen. Corres., Box 23, Freder- 9. Quoted in CCHH, 12. CCHH, HP, p. 254; ick Law Olmsted to J. G. HP, p. 244; Anon., Harold T. Pinkett, "Gif-