Visited July 11-19, 2022
By Janell
If you've heard anything at all about Rhode Island, you've probably heard about the mansions in Newport. It's all about the mansions! These are the summer "cottages" for the very wealthy of the Gilded Age. The families spent just a few weeks in their summer home each year. I can't imagine having a home like these at all, let alone only spending a few weeks there. If I sound jealous, I'm truly not . . . the thought of dusting all those statues is a real deal killer for me!
Through The Preservation Society of Newport County, nine homes plus a topiary garden are available for touring; however the availability of the homes varies. Three were closed when we went, which was fine as it made our decision process a tad easier. Ten years ago we toured the most popular home, The Breakers (a Vanderbilt home), so we opted not to see it again. This time we bought the 3-home pass and chose to see Marble House, The Elms, and Rosecliff, taking two days to do it. There's so much to see and learn, that to do more than two homes in a day seems overwhelming to me. As it is, I keep getting details of the homes confused and have to check myself to make sure I'm writing about the correct home.
MARBLE HOUSE
Marble House was the summer house of William K. and Alva Vanderbilt. William was the brother of Cornelius II, who built The Breakers "next door" to Marble House. Marble House was completed in 1892, at a cost of $11 million, of which $7 million was spent on the marble -- 500,000 cubic feet of it! Thus the name. It's a 50-room mansion, built to impress and was a showpiece of the Gilded Age.
The Gilded Age in American history is recognized as from 1865, the end of the Civil War, to 1914, the beginning of World War I. The term "Gilded Age" was coined by Mark Twain in the 1873 novel "The Gilded Age: A Tale of Today", by Mark Twain and Charles Dudley Warner. It was not meant as a compliment. Just as gilded things are gold on the surface but only base metal underneath, he meant that the society was glittering on the surface and corrupt underneath. I've not read it, but according to Brittanica.com, "The novel gives a vivid and accurate description of Washington, D.C., and is peopled with caricatures of many leading figures of the day, including greedy industrialists and corrupt politicians".
A major blow to the Gilded Age lifestyle came in 1913 when the modern system of income tax was implemented. Up until then families like the Vanderbilts could just keep every dollar they made.
I know it looks like wallpaper with a faux-marble design, but the dining room in Marble House is actually lined in red marble. Of course it is.
The dining room chairs weigh 75 pounds each, and the armchairs 100 pounds each. The chairs were inspired by King Louis the 14th. King Louis' chairs were solid silver. The Vanderbilt chairs are bronze covered in gold.
Alva Vanderbilt's bedroom - a little too sugary, if you ask me ...
Setting aside the whole over-the-top Vanderbilt lifestyle, I do have some praise and gratitude for Alva Vanderbilt. Alva was a militant suffragist. She joined the fight for women's votes in 1909 and held suffrage rallies at Marble House. After the 19th amendment was passed in 1920, granting women the right to vote, Alva devoted the rest of her life and much of her fortune to women's causes.
THE ELMS
The Elms was the summer home of Edward and Herminie Berwind. Edward was a merchant prince of coal; the Berwind coal fueled the Vanderbilt railroads, the New York City subways, and the United States Navy.
The home was completed in 1901 at a cost of $1.4 million -- small potatoes compared to Marble House. As with the Vanderbilt home, the Berwinds used this home for just a few weeks each summer.
The photo above is of the backside of The Elms. I know you can't see it so well, but that green sculpture on the right appeared to be of a large cat attacking an alligator. I guess that's better than having the alligator attacking the cat, but still, I'm not a fan.
At The Elms we not only toured the home with the audio app (as we did in all three homes), but we also took a guided tour called The Elms Servant Life Tour, which was very good. We went into the servants quarters and saw how they ran the house. Think Downton Abbey.
Servants were not to speak to the families unless spoken to first. This was particularly true for the lower level servants -- they were to be invisible. We learned that the Mr. or Mrs. of the house were likely to call you "Bridget" or "George" (or whatever suited them) even if your name was "Janell" or "Marty", simply because it was easier for them. Perhaps the last girl they had was a Bridget, but for whatever reason, they did as they pleased.
This is the basement tunnel where the coal would be wheeled into the house.
When the families came to stay for the summer, all their fine clothes would be contained in trunks such as these. The servants would be responsible for lugging the trunks up to the rooms, unpacking them, and bringing the empty trunks back down to this basement storage room.
Many of the grand mansions are along the waterfront of Easton Bay (including Marble House and Rosecliff). The Cliff Walk is a 3.5 mile path along this waterfront, and we walked about two miles of it. (It was sunny, hot and humid.) It was a pretty walk, though parts of it weren't really what I'd call a "path"; more like picking your own path over the rocks.
From within the waterfront mansions however, the view to the sea ideally did not include a view of the cliff walk. For example, if one were looking out to sea from the ballroom of the Rosecliff mansion, the seawall falls right at eye level and cleverly disguises the cliff walk, creating a complete sense of separation between the general public who could be walking on the cliff walk and those who were enjoying an evening at Rosecliff. Not only did the families not enjoy people-watching the way we might today, but perhaps more importantly, they did not want the people watching them!
And now for our third mansion:
ROSECLIFF
Rosecliff was the summer home of Theresa Fair Oelrichs, a Nevada silver heiress, and her husband Hermann Oelrichs. Rosecliff was completed in 1902 at a cost of $2.5 million.
Interesting tidbit about Rosecliff: scenes from The Great Gatsby, True Lies, Amistad, Twenty-Seven Dresses, and more have been shot on location at Rosecliff.
This grand heart-shaped staircase is immediately visible when one steps inside the front door. Back in the Gilded Age, upon entering the home, the ladies would've gone up these stairs to deposit their wraps, and then turned around and floated downstairs in a dramatic entrance before rejoining their escorts and greeting their hostess.
Today, Rosecliff is one of a handful of the mansions available for weddings. The heart-shaped staircase, as you can imagine, is a favorite for wedding photos.
Summer entertaining in Newport was a serious business, and money was no object. A society hostess was expected to throw at least six dinner parties each summer; a dinner might be a dozen courses long with a different wine for each course. She also must host two balls for 400 guests or more and provide nonstop music and entertainment till sunrise the next morning. One hostess transported an entire cast of a Broadway musical complete with all the sets and scenery in her attempt to one-up the neighbors.
"Tessie", as Theresa Oelrichs was known, hosted some of the most lavish parties, including one that featured the famed magician, Harry Houdini; one that was a fairytale costume ball; and the wildest one of all that became known as the "monkey dinner". At the "monkey dinner", guests were promised a meeting with a mysterious "prince". Legend has it that it went like this: During the evening the "prince" literally swung into the room . . . he was a chimpanzee in full evening dress. All went well until the prince drank too much champagne, climbed the chandelier, and started throwing light bulbs at the guests!
About the attire for these events . . . don't even think about wearing something you wore last month to another ball! It's estimated a Newport lady changed her outfit 280 times each summer; each ensemble was brand new and likely custom made in Paris.
They say that all this extravagance either revolts or charms you; or perhaps both, as it does me.
Upstairs at The Elms, they had a small museum of sorts. Many art pieces and furnishings from the Gilded Age (but not from any particular mansion) are displayed here, including this chair and painting. I wish I could give you a sense of size of the chair; it was quite small - like for a small child. It was made for the obviously, beloved dog in the painting. I kid you not. That was one pampered pet!!
The Gilded Age came to an end, and these summer cottages fell out of fashion. For one thing, they were too expensive to maintain, and as in the Vanderbilt family's case, the money had run short.
More on that from ranker.com:
During the Gilded Age, the mass accumulation of money by families like the Vanderbilts changed the economic, social, and physical landscape of the United States. The Vanderbilt family's wealth grew out of the shipping and railroad industries, both of which were largely monopolized by the family patriarch, Cornelius "Commodore" Vanderbilt, in the late 19th century. His hard work set the foundation for his sons and grandsons to continue making money, but their descendants became less inclined to earn and more likely to spend.
In 1962, The Elms was scheduled for demolition to make way for commercial development. All of the artwork and furnishings had been sold at a public auction, and the house stood empty. Appalled at what was happening to these grand old mansions of Newport, The Preservation Society of Newport County stepped up and saved the house. Friends of the society were able to buy back many of the original furnishings and artwork, and the museum opened just three weeks after its scheduled demolition date.
The Elms was not the only mansion facing destruction. At least seven Newport mansions were demolished between 1962-1975. While I can't agree that anyone ever needed to build such "summer cottages" as these, I also think it's a shame to just demolish them. Opening them up for tours affords the rest of us a chance to learn about this little piece of our country's history, and to see how the other half lived and judge their decorating style.
We took a sunset champagne cruise through the Newport Harbor.

The four shots below were taken while on the cruise:
One evening we went into Providence to see an event called "WaterFire". WaterFire is, as described by Wikipedia, "a free public art installation, a performance work, an urban festival, a civic ritual, and a spiritual communal ceremony". We arrived at Water Place Park, on the Woonasquatucket River in the heart of Providence. We found a spot on the concrete wall and sat down to wait for the fun.
The fire rings are stocked and ready to burn. The Providence police cruises through in their boat to make sure everyone is behaving themselves.
We're still waiting patiently. I'm holding our seats while Marty strolls around snapping photos. The sun is slipping away, but you can see how it's catching the buildings across the way. Note the color of the building on the left that is only partially aglow. What a difference the sun makes!
A dozen +/- designated torch lighters stand at the ready!
Having been set aflame by the people on shore, these boats cruise around the water lighting the fire rings. Each boat has a performer on the bow, and after all the rings have been lit, they delight us with fire dances.
You-know-who's legs, basking in the warmth of the fire. Yes, you could really feel the warmth!
A marriage proposal was accepted in a gondola in the center of the ring of fire. The crowd cheered!
We took a hi-speed ferry to Block Island for a day. The morning ride over was pretty choppy, causing a few people to look green about the gills, and at least one person to lose her breakfast. Let it be known that I was not one of them, although I will say I wasn't too keen about the rough ride.
There are very few cars on the island. They seemed to discourage visitors from bringing a car over, and we certainly didn't need one just for the day. However, we did rent a Moped and tooled around the island a bit. That was a fun change of pace from our bicycles.
Mohegan Bluffs
Southeast Lighthouse, built in 1873, was moved back from the edge of Mohegan Bluff in 1993.
Stunning photos of the Mansions!
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