The restlessness of Vermonters, says a native son, peopled many other states—but a solid core remains
A determined collector brings a steamboat to her museum of Americana—by rail.
DURING THIS TRIP, HE GAVE THE NEW nation a new industry, wrote a proto-guide to New England inns and taverns, (probably) did some secret politicking, discovered a town that lived up to his hopes for a democratic society, scrutinized everything from rattlesnakes to rum manufacture, and, in the process, pretty much invented the summer vacation itself.
IT BEGAN AS America’s most modern penal institution, and, for generations, the Vermont State Prison reflected the changing ways by which we thought we should punish our wrongdoers. Then, a tormented era and a ghastly crime combined to end its old career, and give it a surprising new one.
They border each other, they look alike, and most outsiders have a hard time separating the two. Yet residents know the differences are enormous.
How a brave and gifted woman defied her parents and her background to create the splendid collection that is Shelburne
In San Francisco Warren G. Harding lay dead, and the nation was without a Chief Executive. In the early morning hours, by the light of a flickering oil lamp, an elderly Vermonter swore in his son as the thirtieth President of the United States