Look straight ahead across the broad green lawn-you'll spot an enormous, white mansion with a grand entrance supported by six towering columns and rows of large windows framed by deep green shutters.
Welcome to Drumthwacket! If you think that name sounds like it belongs in a fairy tale, you’re not wrong-legend says it’s borrowed from a Scottish novel, and apparently means “wooded hill.” Now, take a breath and soak in the sight of New Jersey’s official governor’s mansion, standing tall and grand since way back in 1835. Let your eyes travel across those gleaming white walls and imagine the stories those columns could tell if they could talk.
Long before this stately home claimed its patch of Princeton, the land belonged to William Penn-yes, the William Penn who founded Pennsylvania. Generations later, Charles Smith Olden was born right here in a humble white farmhouse. Picture the young Charles working in far-off Philadelphia, then New Orleans, gaining a fortune and dreaming of something grander. When he returned, he built the first version of Drumthwacket, and I bet he sometimes strolled up these steps thinking, “Olden, you’ve done well!”
But Charles wasn’t just a gentleman farmer-he dabbled in politics, even becoming governor in 1860, the very first to live in this house. Now, at that time, the mansion was a bit more modest: just a central hall with cozy rooms on each side and that dramatic portico you see today.
Let’s fast-forward to 1893. Along came Moses Taylor Pyne, a man with pockets as deep as his love for building things bigger and better. Pyne snapped up Drumthwacket, then hired architect Raleigh C. Gildersleeve to stretch the mansion out with two grand new wings. Imagine the hammers banging and saws buzzing as the home grew-and with it, so did the gardens: rolling lawns, elegant Italianate flowerbeds, and paths just begging for a horse and carriage.
For decades, Drumthwacket echoed with the footsteps of tycoons, politicians, and even inventors-like Abram Spanel, who, along with his staff and a flurry of patented Playtex ideas, filled the mansion’s rooms with creative energy in the 1940s.
In 1966, with the span of the estate etched into Princeton’s history, it passed into the hands of New Jersey itself. From then on, Drumthwacket was destined for something bigger: a symbol and residence for the governor, though, funny enough, it took 15 years (and a lot of fundraising by the ever-determined New Jersey Historical Society) for it to really become a home for New Jersey’s leaders.
The mansion certainly needed a little TLC-imagine walking in and facing mismatched, hand-me-down couches for hosting ambassadors! First Lady Deborah Kean swept in, founding the Drumthwacket Foundation and setting the stage with antique furniture more fit for a state showpiece. Still, even she and Governor Kean chose the comforts of their own home in Livingston over this mansion.
It wasn’t until 1990 that Drumthwacket finally gained full-time residents: Governor Jim Florio and Lucinda Florio. They set about modernizing everything-new plumbing, updated drinking water, and yes, even added closets to bedrooms (because, historically, where else would you hide your shoes?). Lucinda also breathed life back into those magical Italian gardens, restoring them to their former, flower-filled glory with the help of private donations.
And the fun didn’t stop there. Drumthwacket has seen everything from musical inventions in its parlor to small wedding celebrations-Lucinda Florio even hosted her father’s wedding reception right here. Each governor since has had their own “unique” relationship with the mansion-some just popping by for dinner, some hosting full-time, and some, like Chris Christie, only showing up for the state’s famous Sunday dinners. (Apparently, the invitation was hard to refuse.)
Today, you can imagine the laughter and conversations that echo through its public rooms-the solarium, the parlor, the library, and more. Public tours on most Wednesdays let visitors like yourself peek inside the halls of power. And if you visit during the holidays, don’t miss the garden club’s extravagant festive displays. You might even spot a souvenir waiting in the Olden House gift shop.
So give the mansion one last look, with its stately presence, grand gardens, and centuries of stories. It’s not just a home-it’s a vivid chapter of New Jersey history, and now you’re part of its long, winding tale.
