We’ve all heard the phrase “Keeping up with the Joneses” when comparing our homes to our
neighbors’ homes. But who were the Joneses and why was their house so special? Hi everyone, ken here!
today we are heading out to Rhinecliff, New York to explore the Joneses mansion!
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In 1913, cartoonist Arthur Momand introduced a comic strip titled, “keeping up with the
joneses” where the fictional McGinis family struggled to keep up with their neighbors,
the Joneses, who had the nicest house in the neighborhood. The McGinises would copy what the
Joneses did to not only keep up appearances, but also to show that they had good taste.
While this is most likely where the saying comes from, the meaning of the phrase has deeper roots.
In the mid-1800s, before the prominence of the Astors and the Vanderbilts,
New York’s high society revolved around 4 primary families, the Livingstons, the Schermerhorns,
the Masons, and the Joneses. All three of these families were considered old money,
bringing vast wealth to the new world from Europe.
The Masons and the Joneses jointly owned the third largest bank known as Chemical Bank.
Being at the top of society, with more money than the other 99 percent of New Yorkers combined,
these families defined social norms and traditions in the New World. When one of these families would
sport a new style, members of New York’s lower upper class would immediately rush to their
tailors to have new outfits made, showing that they too could be fashionable and trend setting.
Perhaps no single person had a tighter grip on what was considered fashionable
than Elizabeth Schermerhorn Jones. When she would wear an outfit out in public,
not a week would go by before every lady of high society was wearing something similar.
When she decorated her home and hosted a dinner, you could bet that within a month
all of her friends’ homes were redecorated to imitate hers. Much in the same way that
we see people imitating celebrities today, society in the mid-1800s emulated Mrs. Jones.
Before Newport, Rhode Island became the choice playground of the Gilded Age’s rich and famous,
the choice area for summer homes was still up in the air. Elizabeth headed up north to Dutchess
County New York and purchased a scenic 80 acre lot overlooking the Hudson River.
In 1853, construction began on her summer house. The all brick mansion quickly became an icon of
high society. She had hired master mason, John Byrd to decorate the façade with rectangular
and custom molded bricks. The resulting structure boasted elaborately detailed terracotta cornices
composed of repeating arches. Elsewhere, the house boasted terracotta Solomonic columns
supporting intricate layers of arching brick work. All around the façade, you could find
unique brick patterns creating rhythms around the house’s many towers. Each and every window
surround was thoroughly planned to offer a diverse, but cohesive interest to the façade.
The floor plan, designed by architect George Veitch, was planned to accommodate
large social events with each room flowing into the next and anchored on a grand hall.
Entering the home through the vestibule, you would see the grand hall, clad in wood paneling allowing
natural light to illuminate the interior space through a third floor attic skylight.
We can pass through the old growth wood arcade to find the
grand staircase gently rising towards the landing.
Up here we will find an ornate wooden balustrade skirted by wainscotting
below the steeply pitched skylight following the rise of the roof above.
Every room was finished out so perfectly that Elizabeth hosted her first event in the house,
her friends rushed to buy up the land around it and develop their own homes,
each making the effort to outdo the last.
When Elizabeth passed away in 1886, the mansion was sold into the Finck family.
The Fincks were prominent brewers, but were known to be as tasteless as they were ruthless.
The family constantly fought each other for control of their own brewing empire which lead
to their ultimate demise. From suing each other to sabotaging each other’s departments in the
company, the house passed through the family rapidly while in a constant state of neglect.
This continued until 1934 when Rhinecliffe was purchased at a foreclosure auction. But by this
time, the mansion was too far gone. The land was split up and sold off until just two and
a half acres remained of the original 80 acre estate. It then sat abandoned,
slowly deteriorating as vines crept in through broken windows. Soon enough, moisture built up in
the walls and plaster began falling on the termite infested floors. Eventually, the roof collapsed,
leaving a hollow shell the only testament of America’s roots in conspicuous consumption.
While the once grand mansion was slowly reclaimed by nature it continued to change hands.
As recently as 2017, the house was purchased by a developer. And at the tail end of last year,
in December of 2022, emergency stabilization plans were filed by the developer in a
last-ditch effort to save the mansion. Only time will tell whether or not these efforts
will be successful as the developer attempts to Keep up with the Joneses.
What are your thoughts on this video? Let me know down below
in the comments section. And while you’re there,
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