Recently, Biltmore’s Lenore Hardin, Associate Collections Manager, was cataloguing a servant’s livery coat from the Biltmore House collection when she discovered a label inside. It read, “S. Patrick… Mrs. Geo. Vanderbilt… Nov. 12 1921.”

Since the Museum Services staff was unaware of a servant by that name who had worked at Biltmore House, they dug a little deeper. Through research both in the Biltmore archives as well as in birth, death, census and transatlantic passenger records, they were able to piece together the sad tale of an interesting man.

Like many other footmen who worked at Biltmore, Sefton Patrick was an Englishman trained in domestic service recruited to work at Biltmore. He first appears on a passenger list from Southampton, England to New York in 1913. He was 29 years old, single, and his profession was listed as “steward.”

Soon thereafter he was hired by George Vanderbilt’s sister, as he shows up on the 1920 U.S. Census as a servant working in the New York home of William Seward and Lila Webb.

In 1921 Sefton Patrick began work at Biltmore House as a footman, or underbutler. It appears by all accounts that he was a hardworking, devoted member of the domestic ranks. In February 1922, however, he became ill with tuberculosis. At first he was cared for by a local doctor, and correspondence in the archives indicates that Edith Vanderbilt helped support Patrick by sending him monthly checks.

He recovered enough to come back to work in the fall of 1923, but he had a second “breakdown” in February 1924 and was admitted to the Stonehedge Sanitarium in Asheville. His condition was serious enough that estate superintendent Chauncey Beadle helped Patrick get a disability insurance policy. Biltmore continued to pay for his doctor’s bills and as well room and board at three different sanitariums.

Mrs. Vanderbilt planned to employ Patrick “to take charge of her garden and grounds around her new home” once his condition improved. Patrick wrote to Mrs. Vanderbilt:
“I must thank you for your kind offers, received through Mr. Hopkins. It is really thoughtful that you should so consider my future… Am glad to say that I continue to feel well and hold my weight, so there is every reason to believe that I am making good progress and will eventually overcome it permanently. I am more than sorry that there seems little chance of me starting work in December but if I continue to improve I hope that I will be well enough in the spring… I sincerely feel that is my duty both to you, for giving me such an opportunity, and to Dr. Dunn who takes a personal interest in my care… I must thank you for your continued interest, it is a tremendous help, and a continual incentive for me to do my very best to get well and make a real cure.”

Sadly, Patrick’s condition did not improve. In 1926, he moved to New Mexico, where thousands of tuberculosis patients had traveled to seek treatment with its dry climate, high elevation, and sunshine.

In November 1927, Patrick wrote to Mrs. Vanderbilt’s secretary, William Ashby: “Glad to say I’m going on pretty well. Haven’t made such rapid progress as I had hoped but am getting over the danger period (Dr. Peters noticed that I slipped periodically) but have steadily improved so can feel encouraged that am on the way to permanent cure.”

A few months later, Patrick wrote to Beadle about some insurance matters. He noted, “I have more than a suspicion that Dr. Peters considers me a ‘chronic’ case though I refuse to look at it in that light myself. My argument is that if one can change for the worse—one can also for the better! I know it is a question whether I can recover sufficiently to return to my old occupation or any kind of physical work. That is the reason I now spend my mornings at school—I feel bookkeeping etc. should be handy in whatever line I may happen to work in the future.”

Patrick continued to correspond with Beadle and Ashby throughout the year, always giving reports on his health in an upbeat manner and expressing confidence in an eventual cure. In a letter dated April 8, 1927, however, Patrick conceded: “My mother is 73 years old. Up until the time of my sickness I had visited her often. I had just returned from England previous to coming to Mrs. Gerry six years ago. I am glad to say she is in wonderful health but should anything happen it would be necessary for me to go and needless to say I would like to be with her before. . . . . . It is an event that I cannot contemplate but of course has been in my mind since this ‘curing’ has taken so long.”

By 1928 it is clear that Patrick’s health had deteriorated even more. In one of his last letters, he wrote, “Glad to say am pretty well though I’m 20 pounds lighter than when I got here and at present don’t walk. I feel once I can regain my appetite though I’ll pick up again.”

Death records indicate that Sefton Patrick died on December 26, 1928. He was laid to rest in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

Photos

Top right: Servant livery coat worn by footman Sefton Patrick, 1921.

Center: Close up of coat button showing George Washington Vanderbilt's monogram.

Bottom right: Close up of coat button showing the Cecil family crest.

Chauncey Delos Beadle began working at Biltmore as nursery supervisor under the direction of Frederick Law Olmsted in 1890—five years before Biltmore House and its surrounding gardens were completed. Beadle, who said he came to Biltmore for a month and stayed for a lifetime, lovingly supervised the estate grounds until 1950.

Chauncey Beadle, ca. 1906

Ten years after arriving at Biltmore, Beadle and the other staff members helped George and Edith Vanderbilt welcome the arrival of their only child—a daughter named Cornelia Stuyvesant Vanderbilt. Later that same year, a cucumber magnolia tree (Magnolia acuminate) was planted in the child’s honor in the area of the estate that would come to be known as the Azalea Garden. According to one newspaper account,

The spot selected is in a beautiful grassy dell near Biltmore House. The tree itself, now but a sapling of twelve feet in height, is expected to be 60 feet above the ground when little Cornelia reaches the age of 20 years. A few years after that event, it is expected that it will reach a height of 100 feet. It lives centuries, and is one of the prides of our beautiful southern forests. 

A special bond

As a young girl, Cornelia developed a special bond with Beadle. He had become estate superintendent and was now responsible for the overall business management of the estate, as well as many of the Vanderbilts’ personal affairs—but he was also a trained botanist and horticulturalist who encouraged Cornelia to take an interest in plants and flowers from a very young age. Together, they undertook such activities as planting a flower garden for the child to tend.

When Cornelia was away travelling with her parents, Beadle wrote letters detailing the garden’s growth and often included pressed flowers for her enjoyment.

Here are excerpts from the charming letters Beadle wrote to Cornelia just before her sixth and seventh birthdays:

August 17, 1906 – To Cornelia in Paris, France:

“I promised you just as you were leaving Biltmore to send you some pressed flowers from your garden, that you may see some of the results of the seeds we planted last spring. Almost all of the seeds grew and thrived and, in particular, I wish you could have seen some large double sunflowers as large as breakfast plates … They were so large that I could not press them and I fear that before your return they will have faded and gone. The little package which I am sending you, however, contains some of the smaller flowers that were easily pressed and, perhaps, before your home-coming, I can send you another lot so that you may be able to enjoy the garden even though you were in Europe…”

August 14, 1907 – To Cornelia at Point D’ Acadie, the Vanderbilt’s home in Bar Harbor, Maine:

“I have sent you by mail a package containing a number of pressed flowers from your garden which you painstakingly planted and watered. Very many of the plants have made a splendid showing… In the package you will find handsome Larkspurs of various shades and mottled colors… and several other flowers that were in blossom…. You will find the names of the flowers written on the inside of the sheets of paper which contain them, and I am very sure that you will soon know them all by name and will be able to recognize them wherever you may see them growing…”

Keeping up a correspondence

George Vanderbilt passed away unexpectedly in 1914, and Edith and Cornelia began spending more time in Washington, DC where Cornelia attended The Madeira School. Beadle continued corresponding with the pair through the years, bringing Edith up-to-date on estate business and describing the gardens in great detail so both ladies could enjoy them even when they were far from home.

In a letter dated April 14, 1922, Beadle wrote to Cornelia,

“The tulips in the walled garden are so glorious that we are trying out an experiment of sending you a box today by express for Easter. We shall hope they will bring you something of their original beauty and charm to make Easter even more wonderful. Spring is very much advanced here, even the yellow rambler roses are opening.”

Beadle’s gift

In 1923, Cornelia met the Honorable John Francis Amherst Cecil, a British diplomat who had been transferred to Washington, DC after posts in Egypt, Spain and Czechoslovakia. John Cecil came from a very prominent British family, and was a direct descendant of William Cecil, the first Lord Burghley, who served Queen Elizabeth I of England.

Cornelia and John announced their engagement later that year, and set a wedding date for April 29, 1924. Although Beadle was in Florida and unable to return for their wedding, he sent a very special gift that commemorated their mutual love of the natural world: fresh orange blossoms from his own garden. Our archival records indicate that Cornelia placed some of the fragrant flowers on her veil and also decorated the toe of each of her wedding slippers with a single, perfect blossom.

Cornelia Vanderbilt’s wedding portrait upon her marriage to John Francis Amherst Cecil, April 1924

Images

Top: Chauncey Beadle at Biltmore in 1906

Middle: Cornelia Vanderbilt photograph; 1904

Bottom: Cornelia in her wedding dress at the bottom of the Grand Staircase in Biltmore House

From her debutante days onward, Edith Vanderbilt was a fashionable lady who enjoyed wearing some of the most elegant styles designed by the exclusive fashion houses of the era.

(Right) Standing portrait

In the late 1800s, standing portraits like this one were popular because a standing pose allowed a lady to display all the details of her beautiful costume to best advantage! Note the extraordinary length of lace falling from the delicate floral trim at Edith's shoulders (the floral design is also echoed in her sweeping skirt) and the height of her feathered hair ornament.

(Left) 1900

As a young mother, Edith Vanderbilt's style of dress reflected a bit more restraint than her glamorous debutante and engagement gowns, but there were still rich layers of details to keep the style engaging. Notice the striking combination of Edith's elegant sleeves layered in stripes and dots, the lavish lace bow at her throat, and the dangling brooch pinned to her bodice.

(Right) March 1907

On this date, the New York Times featured a front-page story on Edith Vanderbilt wearing a gown of mountain homespun cloth woven by artisans who worked for Biltmore Industries–a business the Vanderbilts developed to provide economic support for local crafters in the community. Edith Vanderbilt always chose examples of current styles to flatter her tall, slim figure, and this sleek suit is no exception. In addition to enjoying the elegant ensemble, Edith used it as an attractive tool to help influence her social connections and push sales of Biltmore Industries merchandise.

(Left) A fashionable lady

Throughout her life, Edith Vanderbilt would continue to be celebrateded for her fashion sense and good taste. 

(Top) Featured blog image 

A 1911 portrait of Edith Vanderbilt painted by Italian artist Giovanni Boldini, known for his glamorous renderings of notable members of society. This portrait hangs in the Tapestry Gallery at Biltmore House, just outside the entrance to the Library.