120 THE CAROLINA MOUNTAINS 
trainmen in calling out the station prick the bubble 
of ambition by putting the accent on the last sylla- 
ble, when they do not put it on the first. 
Two miles before reaching Asheville, the train stops 
at a place which might cause the bewildered trav- 
eler, if unprepared, to wonder where he is. A corner 
out of some village of old England seems to have 
been set down bodily in the heart of the New World 
wilderness. It is the village of Biltmore, lying in full 
view from the train on a perfectly level space, a 
charming collection of houses surrounded by smooth 
lawns, wreathed in vines, shaded by trees, and 
grouped about a square and along winding streets. 
A church. Early Gothic in style, with a strong square 
central tower, is the natural and dignified centre of 
the village. The beauty of the interior of the church 
is enhanced by a number of fine stained-glass win- 
dows, one of which was placed there to the memory 
of Frederick Law Olmsted, America's greatest land- 
scape gardener, who laid out the grounds of Bilt- 
more, and another as a memorial to Richard M. 
Hunt, who designed the church as well as Biltmore 
House, the residence of Mr. Vanderbilt, which, 
standing three miles away, is not visible from the 
train. 
Coming suddenly upon Biltmore out of the sur- 
rounding forest, one has a prophetic sense of the 
change that is about to overwhelm these so long 
changeless mountains, and at Biltmore one must 
stop and become acquainted with the very interest- 
ing development that has there taken place. First, 
