One of two living walls at the Berkshire Botanical Gardens’ newly renovated Center House. The walls are a living tribute to Ellen Greendale, beloved BBG trustee. Photo courtesy of Berkshire Botanical Garden

CONNECTIONS: A tribute to Ellen Greendale, lover of gardens

The wedding present Irene Botsford Hoffmann received from her father was a house. It was built on her 43-acre property and named Overbrook.

About Connections: Love it or hate it, history is a map. Those who hate history think it irrelevant; many who love history think it escapism. In truth, history is the clearest map to how we got here: America in the 21st century.

Ellen Greendale was the real deal. I keep seeing her. She is in the post office just ahead of me but, when I follow her around the corner to tap her shoulder, she is gone. Through the glass I see her at the reception desk at our spa but, when I get inside and move to greet her, again she is gone. She is sitting in the red chair by my kitchen door and then absorbed into the crowd at one of my dinner parties and no longer visible. She is always just ahead of me and instantly gone from view — an odd sensation I had all week all over our village. Now I know why. I had one more thing to say to her, and I keep trying, but Ellen died 13 days ago. It’s too late. She went on ahead, and now I cannot tell her.

At her request, I wrote a little book about her house. Perhaps she had already made the connection or perhaps the little book made it for her. Regardless, here is an excerpt and the connection between Ellen Greendale, the Berkshire Botanical Garden, and the only daughter of Henry and Emma Schwartz Botsford of Chicago, Illinois.

Her name was Irene. Her father, born in 1834, came to Chicago a penniless teen. Eventually he was called the founder of the meat-packing business in Chicago because he was the first to consolidate small meat-packing businesses into one large and powerful Chicago Packing and Provisions Company. From 1860 to 1900, his company prospered. He sold his interest in 1900 and thereby dodged the bullet.

In 1906 Upton Sinclair wrote “The Jungle,” an exposé of the Chicago meat-packing business and stockyards. “The Jungle” was so graphic and provocative, it is said that President Theodore Roosevelt (1901–09) was made sick and could not eat meat. Public outcry prompted an investigation and reform. Other owners were vilified, but Henry Botsford’s retirement spared him and his name was never associated with the scandal.

From 1900 onward, the Botsford family were summer residents of Stockbridge. They rented cottages, one of which was Eden Hill, the former home of David Dudley Field and today the National Shrine of Divine Mercy. Irene officially entered the Stockbridge story that same year: In 1900, she purchased 43 acres on Larrywaug Crossroad from Daniel B. Fenn.

In the summer of 1902, Stockbridge resident and Botsford family friend Walter Hoffmann married. In the wedding party were Irene Botsford and Walter’s brother Bernard. The wedding reception was at Eden Hill, hosted by Irene’s mother and father. The following year, on Oct. 17, 1903, Bernard and Irene were married at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Stockbridge.

The wedding present Irene received from her father was a house. It was built on her 43-acre property and named Overbrook. An elaborate, even astounding, wedding present? Actually, it was commonplace for society families in the Gilded Age to give a house.

Overbrook in Stockbridge. Photo: Carole Owens

By the time of the ceremony, Irene’s mother had died. The ceremony and reception were scaled down. Irene’s wedding was not the large and elaborate confection standard for society weddings of the period. The ceremony was limited to family only and the wedding breakfast that followed took place in the dining room and large porch at Overbrook.

Overbrook was festooned with chrysanthemums, hydrangeas and fall foliage. A few friends joined the family at the breakfast. The following month, on Nov. 17, 1903, an article ran in the local paper, prompted by the Hoffmann wedding: “A profound change has occurred …Most of us can go back in memory to the time when June was the only month that a bride-elect thought it advisable to enter the matrimonial state. All other months in the calendar were quite outside the pale. Now October is chosen …The balmy air of budding summer gives way to the more somber and thoughtful air of October.”

The brook the house overlooked was called Chochechoke SeePoo Brook. In 1911 Irene Hoffmann purchased an additional 7 acres from Mr. Fenn and finally, in 1919, she purchased 6 contiguous acres from Frank Palmer, creating an estate of 56 acres.

In 1912 Irene hired Frederick Law Olmsted, the premier landscape architect of his day, to assist in laying out the gardens at Overbrook. Scant information about the final plan of the Olmsted garden remains except that there were a rose garden and an elaborate formal garden.

Irene’s father died in 1919. His estate was valued at $8,000,000 (approximately $200,000,000 today). Irene was sole-beneficiary. Irene, intent upon her gardens, had an idea that became a permanent gift to Stockbridge. In 1934, Bernard and Irene donated 8½ acres to establish the Berkshire Garden Center, called Berkshire Botanical Garden today. She was president from 1934–41. In 1950, Irene wrote “The Book of Herb Cookery” and donated the proceeds of her book to the Garden Center. The Center was dedicated to Bernard and Irene Hoffmann in September 1950, one year after Bernard’s death. When Irene died in 1960, there were endowments for the Garden Center and the Jackson Library.

Ellen and Chris Greendale with Berkshire Botanical Garden board chair Matt Larkin at the Garden’s 2017 gala event. Photo courtesy Berkshire Botanical Garden

Ellen came to Overbrook as a guest when it was an inn. She and her husband fell in love with it, bought and restored it. Like Irene, Ellen was intent upon gardens and became a substantial contributor in time, wit and money to the Garden Center. From the same lovely home, over decades, Irene made a substantial and continuing contribution to the beauty of Stockbridge; as did Ellen.

I just wanted to say: “Gone too soon, girl. You will be sincerely missed, friend. And Ellen, one more thing: Thanks for the living walls — so pretty, so welcoming, so vibrant, so you.”