“The Forgotten Vizcaya,” Part II. For a glimpse of life at Villa Vizcaya during the Deering years, I’ve been able to find no description better or more vivid that that published by Miamian Arthur G. Adams in a 1955 issue of “Tequesta,” the journal of the Historical Association of Southern Florida. At that time, Vizcaya and its grounds had been acquired by the County and been opened as an Art Museum only three years before. He expressed a desire to “keep green the memory” of what daily life at the home had once been like. Without further ado, here’s Mr. Adams. (”Illustrations” accompany below.) ________________ Let’s put our fingers on the throbbing pulse of a great private home of an artistic, perfectionist bachelor millionaire. Mrs. C. I. Adair, for 35 years the housekeeper, arrived in February 1917, two months after Mr. Deering. Her staff numbered thirty-two, among them two French chefs, four butlers, four house men, and six house maids. All the maid’s uniforms were made in the house, as well as the men’s summer whites. For morning work the maids wore fine blue and white striped cotton; in the afternoon black silk with white apron trimmed with lace and little bows in their hair. This staff straightened and cleaned the house every day. By eleven in the morning, floors had been vacuumed, (the handsome rugs were more delicately and carefully cleaned), and waxed, flowers arranged. The luncheon table was set at noon, Mrs. Adair having fixed the floral centerpiece which was changed for dinner. In 1917 Eustis Edgecombe, lately from Nassau, was employed in the gardens at Vizcaya. In 1918 when the “draft” took some housemen, he began working in the house where he has worked ever since. Eustis remembers the bustle and excitement of the great house in action: Mrs. Adair, up at six thirty every morning feeding the wild birds at the entrance patio, Mr. Deering’s interest in small details, his orders issued in writing, his kindnesses and fairness but always exacting. Mr. Deering arrived at Vizcaya for Thanksgiving and stayed until June. The house was usually full of company, mostly Chicago friends with a sprinkling of Easterners and foreigners, and, of course, the families of his brother and sister were frequent visitors. There were usually extra guests for lunch, local friends and distinguished visitors. Mr., Deering was abstemious in his eating and drinking habits, but his table and cellar were famous for their magnificence. And, lying at the dock to be kept in order by Mrs. Adair, was the “Nepenthe. It was equipped with the same monogrammed French linens and beautiful china, food and drink. as were used in the house, and always ready for a cruise, either for an afternoon or up to ten days which was Mr. Deering’s limit. Sammy Sands, who still works at Vizcaya, was the flower boy. There were five acres in Allapattah, six miles away across town where the best soil was found, devoted to growing annuals. In slat houses and glass houses on the place were orchids and many other flowers. Five or six men were cutting blooms regularly to keep the “cold room” sufficiently well supplied for a complete change of flowers every day and on occasion twice a day. Cut flowers were kept all over the place, in the halls, patios, on the terraces and by the green house door. No rose bloom was cut in the rose garden. Roses, required on eighteen inch stems, came from Allapattah. Constant budding of roses on Texas stock, propagating and seeding were necessary to keep up with the enormous demand. A failure of supply was unthinkable. And then three times a week Sammy mounted his bicycle and delivered large boxes of flowers to Mr. Deering’s friends, among them the Winstons, William Jennings Bryans, and the John B. Reillys. Milk, eggs, fowls and vegetables were produced on the place. There were sweet corn, beans, peas, cucumbers, and cantaloupe. Seed were most carefully selected, many being imported. Water from an artesian well west of Miami Avenue was piped into a basin at the north end of a ditch now dry and grown over. The porous walls of the ditch were sealed with cement. A free flowing stream of beautiful water flowed southward and down a cascade, then underground to the lagoon. This water also supplied the fountains which ran continuously at the entrances. There were seven islands, where Mercy Hospital now stands, all to be kept spic and span. On Wednesdays and Sundays the public was invited to drive through the grounds. Mr. Deering was much interested in how many cars there were and had a careful count of visitors kept. John J. Bennett, now a prominent engineer of Miami, was employed to make the original boundary survey, and except for service in the army, remained until 1923. Altogether Mr. Bennett spent eight years with a crew of men doing the engineering work required for house and grounds at Vizcaya. He laid out the beds in the formal gardens by Mr. Chalfin’s design. 6,000 pins were used to locate the border plants in one flowerbed of intricate design. William J. Broomfeld was the head gardener. From a family of English gardeners and trained in the best school of that country’s fine gardens, he found it difficult to apply knowledge of temperate zone horticulture to the semi-tropics. Trial and error and learning from natives, however, brought success. Boxwood was first tried for parterre borders. Other plants also failed. Mr. Bloomfield at one time potted 30,000 seedling orange jasmine, Chalcas exotica, from the Brickell Avenue Plant Introduction Garden. But this plant was not satisfactory. Then by chance “Iasimum simpliciflorum,” a vine growing in the nearby jungle was tried. It was found that it was easily propagated by layering and then, although it was not known before, it responded beautifully to severe pruning. This plant is still the parterre border. James Deering, although not so much interested in horticulture as his brother Charles, had a keen appreciation of the suitable. He imported from the western end of Cuba a cycad, Microcyeas ealocoma, one for each side of the main entrance. This plant is native to only one small area and is still extremely rare. In the entrance patio were four buccaneer palms, Pseudo-phoenix, a native of Elliott’s Key and now rare on account of indiscriminate exploitation in 1925. To insure agreeable growing conditions, these beautiful little palms were planted in large cypress boxes. Mr. Broomfeld says that it took 16 men to move a boxed tree. The trees no longer survive at Vizcaya, but specimens may be seen at Fairchild Tropical Garden. Mr. Deering was keenly interested in varieties and correct information and what he was told he remembered. Once he called “Billy” Broomfield to identify a cut rose. Billy identified it by “growth habit” as a William R. Smith but had never seen a bloom of that color. These roses had come from a florist who confirmed the identification and said that the color had been changed with dye. This outraged Mr. Deering. The roses were thrown out. ____________________ Thank you.
Posted on: Sun, 16 Nov 2014 05:33:06 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015