I really love Newport.
We popped on down to Newport from Providence to hit up the International Tennis Hall of Fame for the induction of this and last year’s class and decided to peruse the town the way that tourists do.
We went house hunting. More like house-gawking, to be honest.
If you’ve watched Downton Abbey, the Newport Mansions are basically the U.S. version of Downton, the summer cottages of the extravagantly wealthy of the Gilded Age.
In fact, the fictional Countess of Grantham was one such American Princess that summered in Newport and moved across the pond to find an aristocratic husband. Being a fan of Downtown myself (I mean, my cat is named after one Matthew Crawley), it was fascinating to compare how art mimicked a certain sort of life.
In the case of the Newport Mansions, the lives at which we glimpsed were those of the Vanderbilts.
Due to COVID, only three of the five houses were open for touring. However, despite not being able to go into all of them, the included audio guides meant we got lost for hours in each. Taking in the ridiculousness of it all, and feeling strange knowing that it was not all that long ago that these houses were not merely tourist attractions but someone’s actual house.
Not just someone’s house, but someone’s cottage.
COTTAGE.
Walking in, eyes roaming from top to bottom, every mansion was a sight to see.
Each with a fascinating story behind it.
Glimpsing the life of those who lived in it.
Upstairs/downstairs.
Inside looking out.
And then of course, the gardens.
What a view!
Wandering the gardens, looking for the perfect shady escape on what was a very hot day.
The gardens of The Elms, reminiscent of Versailles.
And none too far from a spectacular view.
We couldn’t leave without strolling the Cliff Walk before heading back to Providence for dinner and dessert.
Newport, I’ll see you again.
