When Cuffe–a man of color, born to a Wampanoag woman and a freed slave–and his crew–all Black or Native men–disembarked, they were met with “astonishment and alarm” by the townsfolk. Locals ran to the docks and urged the Customs officials not to give his ship a landing permit. All his papers proved to be in order, so the permit was issued. It took three weeks for Cuffe to successfully complete his business. By the time of his departure, the people of Vienna looked at him differently. His “candor, modesty, and firmness” had swayed them. He and his crew sailed home, triumphant. From a small plot of land on the banks of the Westport River that spanned less than a half-acre in total, Cuffe operated a steady and successful shipping business of common goods between Westport, New Bedford, Nantucket, and Martha’s Vineyard. The boats on his wharf grew larger and more numerous over time. The 18-ton Box Iron gave way to the larger Sun Fish, which grew into the 40 ton Mary, and finally, Cuffe’s favorite ships, the 268-ton Alpha and the 109-ton Traveller, docked alongside the Cuffe homestead. This shipping endeavor turned Paul Cuffe into the richest Black man of his time in America. At each new port, Cuffe and his crew faced the racist reactions of white Americans. At home in Westport, Paul and John Cuffe fought against racism on the local and state level. As freed black men, they were unable to vote, but were still taxed as any other man. The brothers refused to pay their taxes, claiming taxation without representation, and were thrown in jail. They appealed to the Massachusetts courts, and a law was passed requiring taxation of freed black men, but giving them the same rights as their white counterparts. In addition to his family homestead, Cuffe owned or leased extensive landholdings in Westport where he operated businesses like a gristmill and a West Indies goods store. He helped family members acquire property by purchasing land and passing it on under favorable terms. He also provided land to support local widows and as collateral to assist others in starting business ventures. Many of Cuffe’s land transactions helped other people to meet their financial obligations, a practical and generous approach that reflected his public-spirited activities. Cuffe’s philanthropy was extensive. A member of the Westport Society of Friends, he was appointed by the congregation to a committee to decide whether a new Meeting House should be constructed. Cuffe was a leader of that committee and provided half of the costs of the new building, the same one you stand before now. Behind the meeting house is a small group of graves, each belonging to a member of the congregation. Paul Cuffe and his wife lie behind the next house, past a wall, under a tree in a group of inconspicuous Quaker graves. Distinct, prominent, and seemingly separate. This is Paul Cuffe.

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It is said that every Rhode Islander visits the Biltmore Hotel at least once. Opened in June of 1922, the Biltmore immediately became a significant hub for social activity in downtown Providence, a legacy that continues today. Its elegant halls have hosted whist clubs, holiday parties, and debutante balls. In its early days the Biltmore also sought creative ways to bring fresh produce and dairy to its tables in the middle of a bustling city. A rooftop garden where fresh flowers and vegetables were grown was just the trick! Wanting more, the first manager of the Biltmore, L.D. Wallick, took it further and demanded fauna as well. Pens for chickens and ducks were constructed on the roof. Distraught, the ducks flew south in 1927 and never returned.

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Sunny von Bülow, a wealthy Newport resident active in charity and social organizations, was found unconscious and undressed on the floor of her bathroom. Sunny had suffered catastrophic brain damage and would likely remain in a persistent vegetative state for the rest of her life.  Before this, Sunny appeared to have it all. In her younger years, people said she resembled actress Grace Kelly. She knew literary giants, aristocrats, and movie stars. She was the beneficiary of a fortune conservatively valued at $75 million. All this and she had a suave spouse to boot: Claus von Bülow.  Claus and Sunny met while she was wed to her first husband, Prince Alfred von Ausberg of Austria, whom Sunny wished to divorce. A witty Dane and lawyer who had spent much of his young life in London, Claus was tall, handsome, and eccentric, but with impeccable manners. Sunny saw him as a knight in charming armor. Claus and Sunny wed in 1966, and moved with Sunny’s two young children to the United States, where the family split their time between a spacious Fifth Avenue apartment and this immense mansion in Newport. Less than two decades later, Claus’ new family accused him of trying to kill Sunny and the court of public opinion soon agreed.  During trial at Newport’s Municipal Court, the prosecution contended that Claus had injected Sunny with an overdose of insulin and he was found guilty of Sunny’s attempted murder and sentenced to serve thirty years. This verdict was overturned on technical grounds during an appeal led by Professor Alan Dershowitz, one of Harvard Law School’s most illustrious faculty members.  In 1986, Dershowitz published a book based on the case, Reversal of Fortune, which was adapted into an Academy Award-winning film in 1990 by director Barbet Schroeder. Ron Silver’s performance as Dershowitz garnered wide praise, and Jeremy Irons won the Oscar for Best Actor for his portrayal of Claus. Critics also marveled at Glen Close’s portrayal of Sunny, though her children publicly disputed its accuracy. Claus eventually moved to London, where he wrote theatre reviews and remains a fixture on the city’s social scene. Sunny, meanwhile, never woke from her coma. She died in December 2008, surrounded by her children, at a nursing home in New York City, almost twenty-eight years to the day after she lost consciousness. 

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The film adaptation of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby,directed by Jack Clayton, starred Robert Redford as the newly wealthy businessman Jay Gatsby trying to win the affection of his former love Daisy Buchanan, played by Mia Farrow. Set against the rich social landscape of the Roaring Twenties, the film explores the decadence of the American dream and the nature of wealth and class division. The actors, draped in pastel seersucker, fine speckled cashmere, and silk ties and scarves in every color, played their roles against the backdrop of the gleaming white terracotta Rosecliff, standing in as Gatsby’s grand Long Island estate.  Rosecliff played its role perfectly. Theresa Fair Oelrich, a silver heiress from Nevada, commissioned the mansion in 1909, as a place for summer entertaining on a grand scale. Stanford White, the principal architect, modeled the estate after the Grand Trianon retreat of Versailles, with a classical arcade of arched windows and paired columns. The mansion offers unexpected views of the surrounding area through an en filade special arrangement; the doors dividing rooms are aligned on a single axis with those of connecting rooms, providing vistas from one end of the house to the other. The house includes a grand ballroom and a swooping limestone “sweetheart staircase” that greets guests when they enter. The back lawn, ideal for a leisurely roam, overlooks the Newport Cliff Walk and the Atlantic Ocean. In 1902, at the time of its completion, Rosecliff cost $2.5 million, the equivalent of about $65.5 million today. During the residency of the Oelrichs, servants kept Rosecliff in notoriously clean condition, with Theresa Oelrich conducting an inspection of the house every morning and instructing her domestic staff to change the beds daily regardless of whether or not guests had used them. Mrs. Oelrich was known to engage in the maintenance herself, taking a mop and a pail to any marble floor that fell short of her standards. “When I die, bury me with a cake of sapolio [soap] in one hand and a scrubbing-brush in the other; they are my symbols,” Mrs. Oelrich once said. The last private resident of Rosecliff, J. Edgar Monroe, became known for lavish parties, often with a Mardi Gras theme and involving fancy costumes. In contrast to the formal dinners thrown by the Oelrichs, the Monroes’ parties were notable for being relaxed and easygoing, with an air of conviviality uncommon in the social scene of the time, but perhaps more recognizable to Jay Gatsby. 

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