The Mount sings a siren, not a swan, song
Editor’s Note: This is the beginning of a summer-long series in which Advocate Assistant Editor Judith Fairweather, a Berkshire County native, explores the county as a tourist would (no special media accomodations) and visits place she has never been.
I have stood in a light spring mist at the top of the Eiffel Tower and surveyed Paris below me. I have been to a bull fight in Madrid. I have explored the Parthenon and Acropolis in Athens. I have been up close and personal with Michelangelo’s David in Florence and have rambled along the Mosel River in Germany. I have even basked in Aruba’s warm Caribbean waters. I have seen the magnificence of the buttes in Colorado and met Mickey at Disney World. I have also, like many Berkshirites, spent countless vacations in the York/Ogunquit areas of southern Maine.
Where haven’t I been? The answer is that I haven’t been to the most important places of all.
I haven’t been a tourist in my own backyard. At 44 years old, it’s about time I visited the jewels of the Berkshires that surround us all every day. This summer, I intend to do just that.
My first visit was to The Mount, home to the prolific American author Edith Wharton from 1902 until 1911.
The Gilded Age “cottage” was purchased by Edith Wharton Restoration in 1997, and now faces foreclosure by Berkshire Bank if it doesn’t raise $3 million by Oct. 31, a deadline extended so The Mount can generate revenue during the summer season. This potential loss spurred me to make it my first stop on my temporary tourist visa.
Last Thursday, I pulled in the drive on a cool, gray day. A sign in the window of a booth in front of the as yet unrestored barn told me to proceed to the main house for a ticket, and encouraged me to go the quarter of a mile on foot, although more parking was available closer to the house.
I chose the walk, which proved to be the right choice for me. Surrounded by only the sounds of my footsteps on the unpaved drive and the chirping of the birds in the trees, I was struck by the sight of two massive trees serving as silent sentinels to passersby.
The house began to show itself through the trees, heightening my anticipation.
And then I saw it, to my left, in all its 17,000 square feet of glory. It was easy to imagine carriages pulling up to the front door, footmen scurrying to help the passengers alight.
I was helped by a very friendly woman, warm and sincerely passionate about the estate, something I found in every person I spoke to there. She directed me to start with a 12-minute video about Wharton, her writing, the home and its restoration.
Emerging from the synopsis, I headed to the original entrance, where I was met by a guide who gave me a brief overview of what I would see. She was patient and knowledgeable in answering my multitude of questions.
I then moved upstairs to the main part of the house, where the next guide, Tom, showed me the beautifully restored gallery. At my request, he shared several details with me but was not intrusive, simply offering me information based on my particular level and area of interest. Moving on to the dining room, drawing room, Wharton’s library (which now houses her collection of 2,600 books), as well as her husband’s den, I was struck by the view of the marble terrace beyond the massive windows and doors, and the gardens beyond that. Images of glorious garden parties with women and men drifting along the terrace, into the house and walking the paths of the gardens danced before my eyes. I could almost hear the lilt of their laughter.
The bedroom level, however, was heartbreaking. Not yet restored, the empty rooms and peeling paint only hint at the glories that could be. Standing in Wharton’s bedroom, where she did most of her writing, and looking out her windows to the gardens, I felt overcome with a connection to her — two women, two writers.
My feet itched to travel up the stairs to the topmost floor, which housed the female servants’ quarters, but the area is closed to public view. Instead, I used the servants’ stairs to return to the bottom floor so I could view the gardens.
Following a circuitous path around the back of the first garden area, I felt a thrill of familiarity as I came upon the stonework surrounding it. Standing within, the fountain splashing merrily, I looked down the straight path toward the opposite garden, feeling as though I was once again in the gardens of Versailles, the palace of kings and queens of France including Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette, albeit on a much miniaturized scale.
Knowing that Wharton had traveled extensively in Europe, particularly in Italy and France, where she made her home after leaving The Mount, I can not help but think the resemblance to those French gardens was not simply a wish on my part to return to that time and place.
I was thrilled to discover I could actually mount the steps to the marble terrace seen from inside the dining and drawing rooms. Gazing out with the French doors of the drawing room to my back, I could see in my mind’s eye the gardens as they might have appeared at dusk, lit with lanterns, and could almost hear the whisper of music playing.
After taking my last picture, I turned, reluctantly, to leave, surprised to find an hour and a half had passed. I headed down the road back toward my car, stopping for one last glance over my shoulder.
The Mount, a place I had read about for years but never bothered to visit, had drawn me in with its beauty and possibilities. I felt a connection to its European design and flavor and to its owner, a woman and a writer like myself. And to think this could be the last summer, the last chance, for the public to visit it.
Perhaps Edith Wharton herself was with me in her bedroom as I gazed out the windows, whispering in my ear, “There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.” Perhaps my role is to be the mirror.
The Mount is now open from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. until Memorial Day, after which it will be open from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. daily. Admission through June 14 is $13/adults, $11/students with ID, free for children under 6. From June 15 through Sept. 1, admission is $16/adults, $13/students, free for children under 6. Sept. 2-Oct. 31, admission costs revert back to the spring fees. Guided tours are available June 15-Sept. 1 for $2. Contributions to save The Mount can be made at its Web site, edithwharton.org, or by mail to Box 974, Lenox, MA 01240. Info: 413-551-5111.