Inside Donald Trump's Mansion: Mar-a-Lago

With Mar-a-Lago circulating in the news, we thought it would be a good time to do a deep dive on the mansion. Hi everyone, Ken here. Welcome to This House. Today we are exploring Mar-a-Lago and its history. Make sure to hit that subscribe button so you never miss an exciting episode of This House. When Marjorie Meriwether Post inherited Post Foods in 1914, she became the wealthiest woman in the United States. She quickly grew the brand far beyond her father's wildest dreams, renaming it to General In 1924, she set out to build the largest vacation house in Palm Beach, Florida with a budget of $7 million, or the modern-day equivalent of over $120 million. The 118-room mansion was declared hurricane-proof as its concrete and steel walls were anchored to the coral reef sitting below. It was positioned directly between the ocean and Lake Worth, with private tunnels leading to each, where it gained its namesake, Mar-a-Lago, meaning sea to lake. Marjorie spared no expense in its construction, importing 20,000 roof tiles from older homes in Cuba, bringing in three shiploads of stone from Italy, and over 36,000 tiles from Spain dating to the 1400s. With over 100 European artisans brought over to assemble the house, the 62,500-square-foot home began to take shape with a 75-foot tower soaring above the property. The facade was inspired by an eclectic mix of Moorish, Venetian, and Hispanic architecture, with ornate columns strung in curving arcades and a porte-cochere set at a larger-than-life scale to impress guests at the front door. Walking inside, you would pass through an iron door containing glass panels laid out in a geometric pattern. This immediately opened to the entrance hall, adorned with inlay tiles and statuary carved into the walls below a coffered ceiling. An ingle nook sat to the side, with a conical hood over the fireplace, with busts set in niches on either side. Continuing forward, you would pass through a set of double doors, each panel containing cherubs and surrounded by 500-year-old Spanish tile. This would bring you to the living room, where slender Solomonic columns exaggerated the height of the Gothic arches taking the place of the frieze. A coffered ceiling soared overhead, with chandeliers dropping an entire story to rest above the heads of guests. The walls were decorated with centuries-old European tapestries, interrupted only by pointed arches and armorial motifs set in their peaks. The visual anchor was the hooded semicircular fireplace, constructed from solid stone and carved by master masons. Along the east side of the living room could be found the entrance to the loggia, continuing with layered arcades of Solomonic columns set below pointed arches. You could then continue to the dining room, with marble floors which had been stripped from a castle and reassembled below the oversized Persian rug. Marble pilasters protruded from the walls, supporting decorative urns before forming arches below the layers of molding composing the coffered ceiling. The library was styled more to the likeness of the Gilded Age, with half-height wood panels set between pilasters and decorated with antique European furniture. Going upstairs, you would pass through a series of groin vaults supported by architectural elements mimicking Gothic cathedral windows, before arriving in a barrel-vaulted hallway leading to bedrooms. The Venetian bedroom had low ceilings compared to the first floor, with a traditional fireplace centered across from the bed. The Dutch room was finished in dark wood, with a picture rail connecting the door frames below the coffered ceiling. The fireplace was finished out in antique tiles with intricate carvings in its upper mantle. Marjorie's bedroom was finished out in light colors, incorporating white fabrics broken up by muted floral patterns. Her walls were composed of gilded white wood panels, with murals depicting urns and garland. Marjorie thoroughly enjoyed her time in this palatial estate, but as she grew to old age, she was unable to find anyone to will the home to. She had offered it to her daughters along with a trust to pay for her servants, but they declined. She offered it to the state of Florida, which also declined. Finally, she pulled some strings in Washington, D.C. and convinced former President Richard Nixon to authorize the transfer of the estate to the National Park Service in 1972. Marjorie wanted the home to be enjoyed by the world's most elite, offering it as a retreat for future presidents to impress foreign dignitaries. She died the following year.