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How Robber Barons Flaunted Their Money During The Gilded Age
How Robber Barons Flaunted Their Money During The Gilded Age
How Robber Barons Flaunted Their Money During The Gilded Age
Indiana as "the short and simple annals of the poor." But the hardships he
endured there as a youth weren’t unique. Life was harsh for most frontier
families in the early 1800s.
“Life on the frontier was little better than the life of an ox,” says Lincoln
historian Michael Burlingame. But the Lincolns, he says, were especially poor.
At Knob Creek, the Lincolns lived in a one-room cabin with a dirt floor, much
like the one where Abraham was born roughly nine miles away near
Hodgenville. Steep, heavily wooded hills rose on each side of the home. On
the leased, 30-acre farm, Lincoln’s father planted corn and pumpkins on wide
fields with rich soil.
In front of the Lincolns’ door, on the road from Louisville to Nashville, the world
passed: pioneers with heavily laden wagons, peddlers, local politicians,
slaves, missionaries and soldiers returning from the War of 1812.
Stern and often domineering, Thomas Lincoln put his son to work before he
turned 7. Abraham filled the wood box, brought water from the creek, weeded
the garden, gathered grapes for wine and jelly, picked persimmons for beer
making and planted pumpkin seeds.
At the creek, where he often played with his sister, Lincoln may have nearly
drowned.
While walking across a log that spanned the rain-swollen tributary, Abraham
fell in, the story goes. A playmate said he used a sycamore limb to pull Lincoln
from the deep, raging waters. Whether the account—widely publicized in the
late 19th century—is accurate remains unknown. What’s certain is that another
child’s death would have crushed the Lincolns, whose infant son Thomas died
on the farm in 1812.
Two years later, Nancy Lincoln died in the remote wilderness—the first of
Lincoln’s many family tragedies. An introspective, generous-hearted woman,
Nancy apparenDuring the Gilded Age—the decades between the end of the
Civil War in 1865 and the turn of the century—the explosive growth of
factories, steel mills and railroads driven by the Second Industrial Revolution
made a small, elite class of businessmen incredibly rich. By 1890, the
wealthiest 1 percent of American families controlled 51 percent of the nation’s
real and personal property.
Among the richest of the rich were the so-called robber barons, whose
extreme avarice drove them to use unethical business practices and exploit
workers to create lucrative monopolies, and in the process amass fortunes
that would amount to billions of dollars in today’s money.
The late 1800s super rich had an existence so opulent that it may have been
almost unimaginable to the masses of ordinary Americans who labored in the
factories and mills they owned. To describe their lifestyle, economist and
sociologist Thorstein Veblen coined the term “conspicuous consumption.”
For the robber barons and their families, Veblen wrote, “the apparatus of living
has grown so elaborate and cumbrous, in the way of dwellings, furniture,
bric-a-brac, wardrobe and meals, that the consumers of these things cannot
make way with them in the required manner without help” from armies of
servants.
But the Robber Barons and their families didn’t just enjoy lives of luxury. Just
as they competed in business, they were driven to outdo one another with
their lavish spending and possessions. Beyond that, they hungered to become
the equals of the aristocrats on the other side of the Atlantic.
“The U.S. was a new country, and there was this sense of looking to Europe
and emulating royal society,” explains Elizabeth L. Block, a fashion and social
historian and editor at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, and
author of the 2021 book Dressing Up: The Women Who Influenced French
Fashion.
Industrialists who didn’t have early roots in colonial America and belong to an
old-money clan would make up for it, Block says, by trying to acquire the
persona of a European lord. “They would do that through buying the right
things, through their possessions and what they were wearing.”
Here are a few of the most ostentatious ways in which the industrialists and
their families flaunted their wealth.
Magnificent Mansions
The Biltmore Mansion of George Vanderbilt was built by the Vanderbilt family
in Asheville, North Carolina. The 250-room French Renaissance chateau
includes 35 bedrooms, 43 bathrooms, and 65 fireplaces.
To entertain the Vanderbilts and their guests, the mansion was equipped with
a bowling alley, an indoor pool, and a library with 10,000 volumes, gardens
designed by landscape architect Frederick Law Olmsted, and special smoking
and gun rooms. They also could warm themselves at one of the mansion’s 65
fireplaces.
The industrialists and their wives sailed once or twice each year to Paris,
where courtiers at Paris fashion houses kept the women’s measurements on
file so that they could have the latest designer dresses ready for them to try
on.
“They would come back with five dresses, and roll them out at social events
during the year,” Block explains. Back in the United States, “newspapers
wrote about what these women were wearing.” The couples also would stop in
London, where the men went to Saville Row, where tailors made bespoke
suits for them out of the finest materials. (Banker and industrialist John
Pierpont Morgan, for example, was a customer of Henry Poole & Co.)
Wealthy Gilded Ave women sometimes even coordinated their clothing with
the décor of their mansions, Block says. Caroline Astor, for example, had a
life-size portrait of herself in her home’s reception hall, dressed in Paris-made
finery. When guests arrived for a dinner party, she would greet them standing
beneath the portrait, dressed in the latest fashion for that particular year.
Gilded Age ladies also used jewelry to flaunt their wealth. One socialite, Mrs.
Calvin S. Brice, attended a ball wearing what a New York Times account
described as a “magnificent” diamond tiara, a pendant of diamonds, and a
bracelet and brooch decorated with black pearls and diamonds, according to
the book Gilded New York: Design, Fashion and Society, by Phyllis Magidson,
Susan Johnson and Thomas Mellins.
Lavish Parties
The Gilded Age super-rich sought to outdo one another by throwing grandiose
soirees with massive guest lists. After aspiring socialite Alva Vanderbilt and
her husband, William Kissam Vanderbilt moved into their new mansion on
Fifth Avenue in Manhattan in 1883, for example, they celebrated by inviting
1,000 guests to a late-night housewarming party in which everyone had to
dress in historical costumes.
“Guests wore powdered wigs from the 18th century, and commissioned
costumes from French courtiers,” Block explains. They went to the opera, then
changed from their opera clothes into costumes. Then they went to the ball,
had dinner at 2 a.m. and stayed all night, while their carriage drivers waited
outside in the cold.
Another socialite, Cornelia Martin, put on an 1897 ball in which the interior of
Waldorf-Astoria Hotel was transformed into a replica of the Palace of
Versailles. Her husband Bradley Martin dressed as Louis XV in a suit of
brocade, while the hostess took on the persona of Mary Stuart in a gown
embroidered in gold and trimmed with pearls and precious stones. Another
guest wore a suit of gold-inlaid armor valued at $10,000 ($336,000 in today’s
money). “The power of wealth with its refinement and vulgarity was
everywhere,” one attendee later recalled.
Extravagant Furnishings
Gilded Age industrialists and their wives decorated the interiors of their
mansions lavishly, sometimes importing entire suites of furniture from Europe
as a way of demonstrating their well-traveled worldliness and sophistication.
While they had enormous budgets for decorating, the American elite didn’t
always have the sophistication to get their money’s worth. “I think we definitely
see that with Alva Vanderbilt’s choices for the interior of her home,” Block
explains. “Maybe she didn’t know the difference between a medieval and a
Renaissance tapestry or one from the 18th century, whereas the Europeans
certainly would have.”
Exotic Dining
Gilded Age industrialists also indulged themselves at the dining table, where
they demonstrated their prosperity by consuming the finest food in gluttonous
quantities. Perhaps one of the most voracious eaters of the era was railroad
magnate “Diamond” Jim Brady, who got his nickname from his habit of
wearing so much finery that his biographer H. Paul Jeffers described him as “a
walking jewelry store.”
tly consumed milk tainted when cows ate poisonous white snakeroot. (Some
believed the cause of death was tuberculosis.) She was 34.
After Nancy’s death, domestic duties at the family’s one-room cabin fell to
11-year-old Sarah. “[L]ittle Abe and his sister Sarah began a dreary
life—indeed, one more cheerless and less inviting seldom falls to the lot of
any child,” wrote William Herndon, Lincoln’s later law partner and biographer.
Through a dismal winter, the motherless children and their 19-year-old orphan
cousin lived in a log cabin without a floor, largely unprotected from severe
weather. In a little more than a year, however, their family circumstances
changed dramatically.