We woke to the steady drum of raindrops on the roof. The forecast was for all day rain, the continuous precipitation that comes from low cloud cover, not exactly great weather for hiking and enjoying expansive mountain views. So we pivoted and decided to drive to Hildene, the summer home of Robert and Mary Lincoln, President Lincoln’s son and daugther-in-law. After the Deerfield Inn’s signature breakfast of eggs, fruit and freshly baked blueberry scones, we hopped in the car for a 90 minute drive to the quaint town of Manchester, Vermont. As we arrived at Hildene, the rain slowed temporarily turning to a gentle drizzle. The gate attendant directed us to the gift shop and advised us to sign up for the house tour right away since the number of people allowed in the manor had been halved due to COVID restrictions. Taking his advice, we signed up for the next tour in 30 mins and took advantage of the offer of umbrellas by the helpful lady tending the gift shop.
With some time to explore , we wandered the beautifully manicured gardens behind the house. The mansion was perched atop a hill overlooking a valley. In fact, the name Hildene comes from the old English words meaning hill and valley with a stream. Off in the distance, the mountains forested with pines, were shrouded, their contours softened by low hanging mist.
Bunches of black eyed susans spilled over the trimmed and orderly hedges, somewhat at odds with the neatness of the grounds, like a wayward child acting out. Everything was alive with moisture.
Hildene was the summer manor of Robert Todd Lincoln and his wife Mary, Robert being the eldest son of Abraham and Mary Todd Lincoln and the only one of their four boys who survived to adulthood. Robert spent most of his life in Chicago but after visiting his lawyer’s Vermont summer home, he was impressed with the area, believing that living here in summers would be good for his and his family’s health. He purchased land shortly thereafter and began construction on Hildene, completing the home in 1905.
Robert was only 22 years old when his father’s assassination suddenly thrust him into the role of head of the Lincoln household, responsible for not only preserving his father’s legacy but caring for his mother whose mental health declined over her lifetime and his younger brother, who died several years later. Like his father, he became a lawyer, establishing a law firm that represented prominent Chicago corporations. His legal work and personal investments made him a wealthy man. He married Mary Harlan, the daughter of a prominent US Senator shortly after his father’s death, and fathered three children. The family lived a privileged life in Chicago but began to split their time between Chicago and Vermont, regularly living at Hildene from at least May to October.
Designed by one of the time’s most prominent Boston architectural firms, Hildene is a 24 room Georgian revival mansion with many technology firsts – electricity, telephone service, hot air heating and an ‘enunciator system’ that enabled the Lincolns to summon staff from anywhere in the house. Later, the family had an electric pneumatic 1000 pipe organ installed in the manor which both Mary and Robert played to entertain guests. Robert also had a keen interest in astronomy and built an observatory with state of the art telescope on a high point of the property. He was known to share his passion for viewing the heavens with his friends and grandchildren.
Hildene was home to three generations of Abraham Lincoln’s family until it became a museum open to the public in 1978. Abraham Lincoln’s legacy is ever present – the third floor of the manor now houses many personal effects of the former President, including one of his many signature stove piped hats.
The farm at Hildene was originally intended to be a commercial diary but Robert soon abandoned this plan in favor of a smaller operation to grow and produce foodstuff for the estate. Today farming is part of the educational mission of Hildene and in addition to growing a variety of crops, the land sustains a herd of about fifty goats and a cheese dairy. We walked a half mile to the dairy in a steady rain, thankfully shielded by our borrowed umbrellas, to see the goats. No dummies, they were sheltering in a shed out of the rain, and as we approached, stuck their heads out of the enclosure to be petted. The small cheese factory was open to visitors; we watched two robed and capped workers processing milk and molding cheese. We lingered, happy to be out of the rain, as large wheels of cheese were moved to a large refrigerator.
It began to pour as we approached our last stop on the grounds – Sunbeam, the Pullman Car exhibit. Robert Lincoln was the President of the Pullman Palace Car Company at the time he built and lived in HIldene. A corporate lawyer representing the company, he succeeded founder, George Pullman as president when Pullman died. Sunbeam was Lincoln’s private railcar that transported him and his family from Chicago to Manchester, Vermont. He is credited with transforming train travel into a lavish luxury experience for those of immense wealth, not unlike private jet travel today. There is some irony that Abe Lincoln’s son was the executive in charge of Pullman. Exhibits near the car pointed out that Pullman was one of the first employers to hire emancipated African Americans who were former house slaves in the South. To be a Pullman porter was prestigious and offered a black man a means to support his family but often came with difficult working conditions and low pay. For example, if a porter’s patron damaged the car or broke tableware, the porter was held responsible and his pay was docked to cover damages. Pullman’s profits grew considerably during Lincoln’s tenure, yet as the son of the man who abolished slavery and emancipated slaves, his policies did little to address the poor working conditions of its porters.
Hungary after a morning of learning, walking and dodging raindrops, we stopped in Manchester for lunch at an Italian eatery, Christos. We each ordered a calzone, underestimating the size of this small stuffed pizza and consequently leaving them half uneaten. Plotting our route back towards West Dover, we stopped at Hamilton Falls in Jamaica State Park expecting a cascading stream of water given the intensity of the day’s rain. It was difficult to find the trail head and once we did there was barely room to park the car. We donned our raincoats and walked along a forested trail, descending several hundred feet down a ravine to a shallow river bed. Still overcast, it was dark and drab in the forest. We heard the sound of running water, but instead of a cascade, we spied a small tickle of water trickling running down a serrated rock ledge.
Although underwhelmed by Hamilton Falls, the two mile hike broke up the drive and allowed us to stretch our legs. Without the all day rain, we joked, we might not have seen even a trace of falling water.
We’d found a winery in the nearby attractions on our phone app so decided to stop, not quite sure how winetasting would work during COVID. Despite Google maps and a sign in the town of Jacksonville, we drove in circles a few times before we found the road to Honora Winery. Although the tasting room was open, the seating area was cordoned off and instead of sampling different wines, you had to buy an entire bottle untasted. So we selected a bottle of Honora’s silver medal winner chardonnay, bought two wine glasses and a corkscrew along with some packaged cheese and crackers and went outside to feast. Huddled under a white latticed gazebo alongside a surging brook on the winery’s grounds, we poured a glass and toasted to a fun, albeit, wet day.
As daylight waned, we headed back to Deerhill Inn satisfied with our rainy day pivot but hopeful for drier weather tomorrow.