Don’t
Eat the Rich, Again
by
Jeffrey A. Tucker
Newport,
Rhode Island, is surely one of the most spectacular places in the
United States, and, for what its amazing mansions of the Gilded
Age represent, it should be considered the Mecca of American capitalist
private wealth, suitable for pious pilgrimages of every sort.
Visitors
to European palaces return home to say the sheer scale has to be
experienced to be believed. So it is with these summer homes of
the wealthy industrialists of the Gilded Age. They are as immense
and magnificent as the palaces of the Old World, but with this difference:
these were built entirely with private money derived from excellence
and service under conditions of free enterprise.
These
are the summer "cottages" of the men and women who laid the foundations
for what would become the best of the modern economies. What a privilege
that they are available now for public tours, so that anyone can
catch a glimpse of that rare thing in the sweep of human history:
immense wealth, justly owned.
As
a class, they took their responsibilities as "dollar aristocrats"
very seriously, but were not shy about displaying their wealth.
They believed, wrongly as it turns out, that they were not living
in a society of envy, and that their wealth should be seen for what
it was: a sign of success in the service to humanity.
The
Breakers
of the Vanderbilt family is the most famous among them, but
it is not the most charming. The
Elms, built by the coal industrialist Edward Julius Berwind,
is more breathtaking to the extent that it combines the tastes and
sensibility of an 18th century French chateau with the
most modern technology. Completed in 1901, and costing the equivalent
today of $140 million to build, it featured electric lighting throughout
the house (if the tour guide is correct, many Newport residents
figured that electricity was just a passing fad).
What
a thrill it is to imagine how new and exciting it must have been
at the time, and to contemplate how the commercialization of electricity
has transformed our lives so completely in a mere one hundred years.
Mr. Berwind loved technology and had a passion for bringing it to
the world. The son of German immigrants, he was a self-made man
who became the largest single owner of coal properties in the United
States. His property sitting on 14 acres with ballrooms,
sunrooms, libraries, breath-taking dinning areas, intimate bedrooms,
a conservatory, amazing art, gardens symbolizes not political
power but the glory of private life as a reward for commercial accomplishment.
This
class of industrialists had a certain consciousness of itself as
the new elite for a new world in a new time and justly so.
After 1870, it became increasingly evident that the European monarchies
were slipping away and with them the system of privilege that came
with blood and birth. In their place stood the American capitalists,
who excelled not in war and political intrigue, but in the most
peaceful of all activities, making and providing things that others
want to buy.
The
hope was clear. The next century would be the American century because
American liberty and commerce had triumphed over the statism and
empires of the old world. American capitalists would create dynasties
more culturally powerful than the most entrenched political families!
Their wealth and skills would be passed from generation to generation!
This class would be the key to the future of the world, bringing
to all mankind a vision of a better life, one that served all classes
of society, brought the world together through commerce and trade,
put an end to war, forged a new world where American values of liberty,
property, and peace would prevail.
And
then something awful happened. Instead of being heralded as symbols
of America’s greatest, they came to be demonized as Robber Barons.
Scoundrels like Teddy Roosevelt, and all his successors in the monstrous
town of Washington, D.C., would target this class, naming them not
producers but parasites the first Big Lie of a century of
lies. By tapping into that ancient sin of envy, TR would call for
inheritance taxes and antitrust laws that would end up destroying
these dynasties or forcing them to join the state as partners in
crime.
What
these taxes and regulations did not complete, World War I did, by
drawing this class into the great destructive project of war making.
In the period of only twenty years, their fortunes and sensibilities
were smashed, and a dream lost. Nowadays, these homes are owned
by a private foundation. No one could possibly pay the taxes, and
the last of the family members left by the early 1960s.
America
ate its rich, in a kind of slow-motion French Revolution. Actually
it was worse: at least the French Revolution began with an attack
on the state that only later went wrong; the Progressive Era was
born in the basest possible motive: the desire to expropriate private
wealth.
After
the Progressive Era, private enterprise in America had been robbed
of that crucial thing, a private aristocracy: the self-made barons
and lords necessary in all times to keep the king in check. After
that, it was just the individual versus the state, and the individual
lost.
Yes,
this class participated in its own undoing. Gabriel Kolko and Murray
Rothbard have shown us all the ways in which warring families after
World War I employed state power to smash their competitive rivals.
What’s more, the third-generation children of the original Men of
Wealth participated in the politics of redistribution, organizing
proto-socialist movements in Newport and using these mansions as
staging grounds for destructive politics.
Why
did they do this? Did this original New Class lack the values and
grounding necessary to have seen what a masochistic exercise this
would be? In a perverse way, did they actually desire their own
destruction out of a sense of self-loathing born of their ignorance
concerning the social good wrought by their capitalist acts?
For
all the complications of those years, these amazing mansions stand
as testimonies to what could have been. Truly, these astonishing
mansions should be classified among the Seven Wonders of the World,
and yet what does it say that so few Americans even know that they
exist? Compare the numbers who come to visit Newport, filled with
shrines to capitalist creation, as versus those who visit Washington
and its shrines to despotism and death?
Yes,
immense private wealth still exists, but it must hide and it must
affect a democratic character, and it must pay constant obeisance
to the politics of equality. And notice, too, how every time a new
class of independent entrepreneurs raises its head on the American
landscape, the trope is repeated: the political class calls these
people parasites and demands their destruction. Why America continues
to eat its finest children cries out for explanation.
August
15, 2002
Jeffrey
Tucker [send him mail]
is editorial vp at the Mises Institute.
Copyright
© 2002 by LewRockwell.com
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