Olmsted at Biltmore

The birth of landscape architecture

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Whenever I visit Biltmore, I get this mental image of Frederick Law Olmsted leaning from an observation platform, looking out at his ongoing landscape work at George Washington Vanderbilt’s massive estate. At Biltmore, Olmsted created a masterpiece of outdoor landscaping, work that even rivaled the ornate architecture of the stone house that dominates the estate today.  And this year the work that Olmsted designed and completed at Biltmore will be especially highlighted as the nation marks the 200th anniversary of his birth.

Frederick Law Olmsted received many accolades during his life and thereafter, and this year, Biltmore Estate will unveil a collection of scenic stops throughout its historic gardens and grounds, with interpretive signs, in his honor. It will be a fitting tribute to his iconic work at one of the magical places he helped create.

Frederick Law Olmsted revolutionized the profession of landscape architecture in 19th century America by creating landscaped works of art. Over the course of his very active life he utilized the concepts of light, open spaces, diverse horticultural species, and woodlands to create scenic vistas, ponds, overpasses, and scenic roads and paths all over the nation. He created a heritage of impressive landscape designs for large public and private gardens, mansions, residences, universities, and public parks. He came to fame early on for his co-design work in Central Park in New York City, but one of his last major achievements occurred in the Blue Ridge Mountains at Biltmore Estate near Asheville, North Carolina.

In Charles E. Beveridge’s biography Frederick Law Olmsted—Designing the American Landscape—he describes the magnificent view from the terrace of the Biltmore mansion: “Standing on the terrace and looking across the Deer Park and the French Broad River toward Mount Pisgah and the Great Smoky Mountains, one is not even aware of the mansion; instead, the visitor is projected into a space in which nothing need be visible but the view.”

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I corroborated Beveridge’s sentiment on a recent visit to Biltmore. Standing on the terrace, my gaze was captured by the rolling sweep of landscape down to the river and beyond. Even though I was in the shadow of the majestic mansion, the scope of Olmsted’s created panorama was remarkable. To be able to compete with the largest and grandest private residence in America through a magnificent landscape view shows the brilliance of his imagination. The house architect, Richard Morris Hunt, may have been the master of structural architecture at Biltmore, but Frederick Law Olmsted was the wizard of landscaping, weaving his imagination all over the estate’s grounds.      

When George W. Vanderbilt, the grandson and heir of transportation magnate “Commodore” Cornelius Vanderbilt, came south from New York City on a visit to Western North Carolina in the late 1880s with his mother, he fell in love with the region and formulated a dream of building a grand mansion and estate. Vanderbilt, an intellectual introvert who eschewed the social life of New York City, knew he’d have to hire and retain a topnotch structural architect for his mansion, along with a master landscaper for the surrounding gardens and open spaces he envisioned. As mentioned, he commissioned Hunt to design and construct his mansion. He then turned to Olmsted, an equally renowned figure, for the landscaping of the extensive grounds. These two men brought the full prestige of their careers to Vanderbilt’s project, which he ultimately called “Biltmore.”

Olmsted and Hunt were already famous, well-off and busy men when they came to Biltmore in the late 1880s, and they knew each other from other projects. Author Denise Kiernan states in her book, The Last Castle, that at Biltmore, “these titans of design, one working in limestone and steel, and the other in perennial and arboreal flourishes, came together to build a home unlike any ever seen this side of the Atlantic. The venture would prove to be one of their largest, most challenging, and, for both men, one of their last.”

An American farmer in England

Frederick Law Olmsted’s awakening to the esthetic wonders of planned landscapes started decades before Biltmore. He was born on April 26, 1822, in Hartford, Connecticut, where his father, a successful merchant, had a penchant for nature and outdoor scenery. He took young Frederick on regular excursions into the countryside, giving him an early appreciation for landscapes.

An eye condition limited Olmsted’s early education, but he improved and later attended lectures at Yale in science and engineering. He also studied agriculture and had a special affinity for that subject.

In his late twenties, Olmsted embarked on a six-month tour of England, in which he visited well-known gardens and parks, including Birkenhead, a public park and gardens. His experience there impressed him greatly. He marveled that among England’s rigid class system he found a public preserve. He later wrote, “I was struck by this democratic development of the highest significance.”

Returning home, Olmsted’s observations inspired him to write a book entitled Walks and Talks of an American Farmer in England, published in 1852. The book impressed the editor of the New York Daily Times, who commissioned Olmsted to travel the American South and write dispatches (and later books) about Southern life, particularly the social and economic implications of slavery.

Olmsted’s mid-19th century travels in England and the South not only provoked his social conscious, but also contributed to his perceptions about natural and manmade landscapes.

‘The root of all my good work’

Largely because of his literary descriptions of landscapes, Olmsted was asked to join British architect Calvert Vaux in a competition for a comprehensive design plan for New York’s Central Park in the late 1850s. Their plan won the competition. One commentator wrote that their concepts included “unique transverse roads, sinking them so that travel through the park would not distract from the landscape experience. They also created a path system that subtly directed people’s movements. In so many ways, Central Park proved a testing ground for design principles that Olmsted incorporated into his later work.” Another commentator noted that Olmsted worked “assiduously from 1858-1861 to make Central Park one of the first attempts in the United States to apply art to the improvement of nature in a public park.”

Olmsted’s design success led him to many landscape projects nationwide. His reputation as the premier landscape designer in America developed in the last half of the 19th century. He later wrote that, “The root of all my good work is an early respect for, regard, and enjoyment of scenery.”

‘Of very public interest’

When Olmsted arrived on the property that would become Biltmore Estate in the late 1880s, the story goes that George Vanderbilt took him to a prominence overlooking the valley of the French Broad River. There, the 26-year-old Vanderbilt and the 66-year-old Olmsted gazed over the terrain. Olmsted had worked previously for Vanderbilt, and described him as “a delicate, refined, and bookish man, with considerable humor, but shrewd, sharp, exacting, and resolute in matters of business.”

At the site, Vanderbilt commented that he’d already purchased some 2,000 acres of land, and intended to purchase more. (He’d ultimately acquire 125,000 acres.) He took the opportunity to outline his vision for building a grand house at the site, surrounded by fine gardens, fountains, and paths. Olmsted listened as he assessed the acreage, ultimately deciding that the house site had good potential for formal landscaping, but the surrounding forest lands were unimpressive, having been cut over and mismanaged. He wrote a friend that, “The area of George Vanderbilt’s land is, in itself…a generally poor region. There were potentialities in parts of it, especially its little valleys, of which we can make something…I was, at my first visit, greatly disappointed with its apparent barrenness and the miserable character of its woods.”

But after reflection, Olmsted believed the lands around the proposed mansion could be improved into a managed forest with the guidance of trained foresters. He ultimately recommended foresters Gifford Pinchot and Carl Schenck. The forestry work that would occur at Biltmore was so innovative that its principles would form the basis of forest management into the 20th century.

After viewing Vanderbilt’s land, Olmsted began a detailed plan for the landscaping on the grounds. Whereas Richard Morris Hunt favored a French chateau design for the mansion, Olmsted wanted the Biltmore grounds to reflect the ambiance of a New England village. To realize both projects, dozens of artisans, engineers, carpenters, stonemasons, and workers were hired. Even a short-line railway was constructed to bring in supplies and personnel. The area in front of the house site became a busy and crowded construction depot for mechanical cranes, scaffolding, sand, mortar, drills, bricks, shingles, and stone, all paid for by the fortune of George W. Vanderbilt. Not surprisingly, local residents and newspapers became fascinated by reports of the ongoing work. Olmsted understood the significance of the project early on and said, “This is to be a private work of very public interest in many ways.”

Olmsted stayed on the property when he wasn’t on other projects, supervising his landscape designs from ground level and from an observation platform built for him to observe work being done on the Deer Park and the terrace. He worked closely with horticultural nursery manager Chauncey Beadle, employees W.A. Thompson and James Gall, and even his namesake son “Junior,” and adopted son John Charles Olmsted. He trusted his onsite managers, but did have one iron-clad rule: No one could make any design changes to his plans during his absence.

Take the natural … and work it up

Olmsted’s Biltmore design plan was initially hinged on the construction of an impressive approach road to the mansion.  When he outlined his initial concepts to Vanderbilt in an 1889 letter, he stated, “The most striking and pleasing impression of the Estate will be obtained by an approach that shall have a natural and comparatively wild and secluded character…all consistent with the sensation of passing through the remote depths of a natural forest.” Author Kiernan writes that Olmsted wanted his approach road to carry Vanderbilt and his guests to his mansion through “a wild and secluded path.” She added, “It was Olmsted’s painstakingly conceived Approach Road that was truly the design linchpin, bringing the estate together, bringing every visitor to the home along a winding wonder of towering, flowering flora that, as Olmsted desired, should entice those traveling it ‘as paintings on the wall of a gallery.’” The approach road became so impressive during construction in the early 1890s that Richard Morris Hunt wrote his wife, stating, “Hasn’t Olmsted done wonders with the approach road? It alone will give him lasting fame.”

Olmsted wanted his entrance road and his landscaping elsewhere on the Biltmore grounds to showcase subtle transitions from one species of trees and plants to others, upholding one of his primary design principles of not having sudden or harsh landscape changes from one to another. He believed in a “soft dovetailing” of plant groups so as to prevent the grounds looking “disjointed.” According to biographer Beveridge, Olmsted always intended “to challenge the ‘decorative garden’ approach and instead proposed to take the natural character of a place and work it up.” That’s part of his legacy at Biltmore, something that visitors today can clearly perceive as they drive through the estate.

Nothing ‘to compare with it’

“Olmsted believed in the power of nature, and tried to blend his designs into the natural surroundings,” Chase Pickering said as we stood on the terrace of the Biltmore mansion last October. Pickering, the senior director of guest experience at Biltmore, is a descendant of the Vanderbilt family. He grew up on the estate grounds and developed an abiding interest in Olmsted’s design philosophy. He credits Olmsted for instilling in him a conservation ethic.

Joining us at the terrace was Parker Andes, the manager of the extensive grounds at Biltmore, and Lauren Henry, associate curator in the estate’s Museums Services Department, who is a lead on development of the informative trail stops. All three have a high regard for the work of Olmsted, and we talked about his work for over an hour and a half.

As we talked under the bright Carolina sun, Pickering gazed out over the estate. He reflected that Olmsted intuitively knew that people could be inspired by nature, and planned his parks and gardens in a way to foster that. He believed that Olmsted was, at heart, a conservationist of his day, having worked on conservation designs in Yosemite Valley in California and at Niagara Falls. Even though Olmsted’s work at Biltmore was for a private development, Pickering said he has no doubt Olmsted would be proud to see how his work influenced American landscape design well beyond the property lines of Vanderbilt’s domain, and that his work had inspired future landscape architects and road planners at demonstrably public places such as the Blue Ridge Parkway. That sentiment is echoed by author Anne Mitchell Whisnant in her book Super-Sonic Motorway: A Blue Ridge Parkway History, where she states that when National Park Service planners started to think about the parkway in the early 1930s, they “could draw on landscape architecture and park planning experience that originated in Frederick Law Olmsted’s 19th century work on municipal and regional parks.”

Andes, who maintains Biltmore’s gardens and grounds, said, “Olmsted’s detailed plans are blueprints for what we do at Biltmore.” He believed that the forest management work done by the foresters that Olmsted recruited benefited the nation in the long-term, since the management practices at Biltmore became “state of the art” nationwide, heralding the birth of serious forest management in America. He also pointed out that thousands of acres of woodlands at Biltmore were sold to the U.S. Forest Service after George Vanderbilt’s death, lands that became the Pisgah National Forest.

Henry, the associate curator in the estate’s Museums Services Department, endorsed Andes’ attitude regarding Olmsted’s intentions, noting how his designs were explicitly laid out at the outset of the work. From estate archives she shared a 36-page letter Olmsted sent to Vanderbilt in the summer of 1889, outlining his assessment of what could be done in terms of gardens, forestry, agriculture, and scenic landscapes. Toward the end of the letter, Olmsted makes the remarkably self-assured—and farsighted—prediction that when his plans for the estate were completed, “Where would there be anything to compare with it? You would have people crossing the Atlantic to see it.”

‘It is a great work of peace’

The heady days when Biltmore House and grounds were constructed and completed represented the pinnacle of Frederick Law Olmsted’s work. But after almost a half-century of intense work during his career, Olmsted’s health and mental acuity started to diminish. Charles E. Beveridge writes that, “During 1895, as he felt his powers failing, Olmsted struggled to prepare his successors to carry on.” He truly wanted his sons, and specifically his namesake, to continue his legacy as leading landscape architects in the country.

Health issues notwithstanding, Olmsted and his design company worked on other projects during and after Biltmore, but many scholars regard his work at Vanderbilt’s estate as his “piece’ de resistance.” He would live to 1903. Richard Morris Hunt would not savor his Biltmore work as long, passing away in 1895, the year the house was completed. And the lord of the estate, George W. Vanderbilt, who brought Olmsted and Hunt to the rolling hills of Western North Carolina, left this earth in 1914 at age 51.

Ultimately, the grand Biltmore Estate passed from a totally private home into a tourist destination. In 2019, 1.4 million visitors entered the estate, including, no doubt, a few who had indeed crossed the Atlantic to see it.

Biltmore Estate today is a national treasure. The roads, gardens, forests, and walking trails showcasing Olmsted’s landscaping mastery will continue to remind visitors of Frederick Law Olmsted’s timeless work. Henry summed up his legacy at Biltmore: “So many of Olmsted’s contributions are overlooked by guests today because his genius lay in making landscapes look natural and wild. But there was so much thought and intention behind every choice he made, when it came to his designs. I am excited to be able to draw more attention to his work at Biltmore—as well as the national celebration of his 200th birthday, which I hope will being a greater public awareness to all he has contributed to this country.”

Frederick Law Olmsted ultimately understood the importance of his Biltmore work. As the project progressed, he wrote a letter to son John, saying that his work “will, twenty years hence, be what Central Park has been to me.” He also wrote one of his managers at Biltmore, saying, “It is a great work of peace we are engaged in and one of these days we will all be proud of our parts in it.”

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