Iconic Asheville Estate Puts the More in Biltmore

The Biltmore Estate in Asheville is fascinating to visit, but you wouldn’t want to live there. At 175,000 sq. ft. of floor space (about four acres), this monument to Gilded Age excess has been the largest private residence in the U.S. since it was completed in 1895 and remains so today.

Built by George Washington Vanderbilt II, Biltmore House sits on 8,000 acres of grounds, down from the original 125,000. The entrance driveway is four miles long, which must have become tedious when traversing it was done at the speed of a walking horse. In all, the home has 250 rooms, 43 bathrooms, and 65 fireplaces, many of which were lit for a late October visit. If you lived there and left the book you were reading at one end of the house, and your reading glasses at the other, you would never get that book read.

Vanderbilt’s grandfather, Cornelius Vanderbilt, was the Elon Musk of his day, the richest man in the world, and his descendants worked hard at spending the fortune he left behind. Built in a “chateauesque” style emulating European stately homes, and employing eminent architects, Biltmore House is striking and set in a stunning setting with mountain vistas behind the gardens and rolling fields.

On a gray rainy morning, though, it exudes something of a foreboding “Fall of the House of Usher” vibe, and in fact, “The Fall of the House of Vanderbilt” was the subtitle of a book by Arthur Vanderbilt II, another descendant, who chronicles “from the rise of industrialist and philanthropist Cornelius Vanderbilt to the fall of his progeny—wild spendthrifts whose profligacy bankrupted a vast inheritance.” As the book notes, “When 120 of the Commodore’s descendants gathered at Vanderbilt University in 1973 for the first family reunion, there was not a millionaire among them.”

But George Vanderbilt’s country home remains stunning today. It presents one over-the-top vista after another, from the octagonal Winter Garden as you enter, with its multifaceted glass ceiling, to the dining room, which accommodates 64 guests under a 70-foot-tall barrel-vaulted ceiling. An adjoining breakfast room, seating only 10, has a pair of Renoir oils among other paintings on the wainscoted walls under elaborately carved ceilings. Additional works include portraits of the Vanderbilts by James Whistler and John Singer Sargent, and a collection of 16th-century Flemish tapestries.

The house seemed dimly lit on a gloomy day, but a docent pointed out that, while the Biltmore was among the first to make large scale use of electric lighting, the lightbulbs of the time (probably powered by Thomas Edison’s original cotton thread filaments), gave only about 20 watts of light, so it is probably a good deal brighter now than it was in the time of its heyday.

Personally, one of the most striking features was a loggia, or arched balcony, which opened onto rolling hills and the mountains beyond. On this rainy day, wisps of fog or low cloud were cascading down the valleys of the distant hills, which must present an impressive vista on any day. Not to take anything away from architect Richard Morris Hunt, today’s esthetic sensibilities would lead one to open up the view from within the house itself – but nobody asked for my opinion.

The grand stairway spirals up three floors, paneled in walnut, but another of the home’s innovations, an electric elevator, offered an alternative. Among much else, the second floor houses the his-and-hers separate bedrooms for Mr. and Mrs. Vanderbilt, separated or connected by a private sitting room. While the rooms are vast, the beds, by today’s standards, are small. Like many pieces in the home, George’s bed was centuries old and originally European.

Biltmore provides a convenient personal audio tour to guests, so everyone walks around looking as though they are on their phones, but it works well to elucidate the many details of the building without necessitating a continuous wall of sound.

In addition to the grand, richly decorated spaces inhabited by the family and their guests, the Biltmore tour encompasses the “downstairs” component of the “Upstairs, Downstairs” – or Downton Abbey – side of the equation. A small army of servants of many descriptions was required to keep the house running smoothly. The tour takes in the basement, where the main kitchen – no microwave oven! – shows where meals were prepared and sent upstairs via dumbwaiters on pulleys. As might be expected, the servants’ dining room was simple and utilitarian, a world away from the grand hall one floor up, although George Vanderbilt was known as a benevolent and enlightened employer to his staff.

The basement and attic in the main house included 28 bedrooms for female servants, and another 32 above the stables for male retainers – no fraternizing allowed (supposedly). George’s valet did marry his wife’s lady’s maid. Even upstairs, concealed panels in the billiard room led to the private quarters of the Bachelors’ Wing, where female guests and staff were not allowed.

Landscape architect Frederick Law Olmsted, who also designed New York’s Central Park, supervised construction of 70 acres of formal gardens at Biltmore, as well as extensive and impressive greenhouses.

Perhaps in line with the scale and magnificence of the Biltmore, entry fees are lofty. On a Monday in October, a single ticket cost $120, bumped up to $131.08 after tax and fees. The home is well worth seeing, but it is something of a curious fit in Asheville, North Carolina, with its determinedly bohemian aesthetic. While we were visiting the town, marchers demanding we “resist Fascism” paraded past our lunch spot, and the regular Friday afternoon drum circle brought together a colorful crew of percussionists.

The Biltmore is working to be a good institutional citizen. Escaping major damage during last year’s Hurricane Helene disaster, the estate gave a $2 million donation to the city for storm relief. The Biltmore Estate, with all its excess, is one more gem that helps make Asheville unique.