Forty-Eight Hours in Newport, Rhode Island

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Poet, novelist and travel writer William Graham is a resident of Stowe, Vermont. He is the author of “Seven Continents: A Travel Memoir." His most recent novella is "Greenfields." Visit his author page on Amazon.com and Audible.com



The late 19th century in the United States was an era of rapid industrialization and urban expansion. Fortunes were made by such titans as Vanderbilt, Rockefeller, Astor, Gould, Carnegie and others. This was a period when the term "conspicuous consumption" was also coined. The period was also called the "gilded age," from the novel of the same name by Mark Twain. The term was not meant as a compliment; rather the words were meant as an indictment of the rich families whose vast wealth masked serious social issues with a thin gold gilding. Newport, Rhode Island was the epicenter of much of the grand displays of wealth by these families. I decided I wanted to see for myself the grand palaces of American "royalty," so I spent a late spring weekend sampling what Newport had to offer from the 19th and 21st centuries.

Located on the southern tip of an island in Narragansett Bay, Newport offers stunning water views from all directions. A mecca for sailing, Newport's harbor is studded with thousands of yachts of all shapes and sizes. Upon my arrival, I walked through the village, which was teeming with shoppers going from boutique to boutique along America's Cup Avenue. The weekend crowds can be overwhelming, so I departed quickly from the madding crowd and wandered away to catch a breathtaking sunset while inhaling the invigorating salt air. My destinations the following day were two of the iconic mansions in Newport--the Breakers and the Elms.

Built by Cornelius Vanderbilt II, the Breakers cost an estimated 36 million dollars (in today's currency) to construct. Sitting on a bluff overlooking the Atlantic, the Breakers was built in an Italian Renaissance style by architect to the rich and famous Richard Morris Hunt. The opulence of the home is mind-numbing and often garish--like a beautiful woman who wears too much makeup. The Newport Preservation Society provides each visitor with a guided audio tour which takes about one hour to complete and is extremely well done. After touring the home, visitors can walk the 13-acre grounds. On a bright sunny day with the ocean shimmering below, the site is stunning.

I then visited another grand estate (which the owners referred to quaintly as their "summer cottage") called the Elms, which was the home of industrialist Edward Julius Berwind. While stupendous in its own right, the Elms felt more like a home to me--if I can use such a phrase to describe a place that often hosted over 400 people for summer dance parties. One must remember that the great homes of Newport were only used eight to ten weeks a year as an escape from the oppressive summer heat of the cities in the pre-air conditioned age. Only a handful of these mansions are open to the public; hundreds more that remain in private hands line Bellevue Avenue and Ocean Drive. Newport continues to be a destination to "summer" for families with old and new money.

After getting my fill of the Newport homes, I ventured to the Newport Cliff Walk, which is one of the most popular (and crowded) destinations in town. Covering about 3.5 miles (round trip of approximately 7 miles) , the trail hugs the ocean and provides a "sneak peek" into the backyards of many of the great houses of Newport as well as beautiful coastal views. The walk has both paved and unpaved sections. So be prepared to scramble over rugged boulders for several sections of the trail.

As my forty-eight hours drew to a close, I also wanted to visit Fort Adams, which was constructed in the 1820s as a coastal defense for Narragansett Bay. The fort was never attacked, which can be attributed to its formidable design. During the Civil War, Confederate raiders attacked other New England towns, but none dared to challenge Fort Adams's massive array of canons.

As I departed Newport to return to my home in the mountains of Vermont, I could not help but equate the gilded age of the 19th century to the debates raging today about social ills and income inequality in the United States. I'm reminded of what Twain wrote about the rich: "The offspring of riches: Pride, vanity, ostentation, arrogance, tyranny."

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