‘The Gilded Age’ season 3, episode 7 recap: George, no!
Plus, the Gilded Age gets its roman-à-clef, Mrs. Kirkland's vendetta continues, and Larian is dead in the water

PLEASE, JULIAN FELLOWES. Pace out the tragic cliff-hangers! It’s the penultimate episode of season three of The Gilded Age, and things are starting to wrap up. But first, some news since last week’s episode: the show has been renewed for a fourth season! Due to exemplary ratings, this recapper concurs, we don’t have to worry about the storylines this week and next ending right then and there.
So what’s happened? The Gilded Age gets its Truman Capote roman-à-clef; Oscar is mourning John Adams’ death; Hector will do anything for Gladys (the only positive in this episode); Mrs. Kirkland’s vendetta continues; George comes face to face with mortality.
Below, we recap the happenings of our favourite late-19th-century New Yorkers.
Read last week’s recap on The Gilded Age here.
The Gilded Age needs its Truman Capote

Every glamorous epoch needs its roman-à-clef, and The Gilded Age just got it. Like Truman Capote was with his Swans in La Côte Basque (first published in Esquire in 1975, which you can read here), Ward McAllister just dropped his society bombshell. We haven’t seen much of the professional walker this season; his absence probably meant he was toiling away with his book. But apparently he’s dug up every speck of dirt he has on society women from over the years: revealing thinly veiled crumbling marriages and infidelities. Chief among the exposed was Mrs. Astor herself.
The impact of the book called for an emergency meeting, hosted by Ada. Mrs. Astor can’t stand the “cacophony” caused by the book, particularly when it comes to the gossip around her daughter’s “friendship” with Mr. Burrow. Not only is the Old Money priestess barring McAllister from any and all high society events, but she’s also shunning her own daughter. And she suggests her friends and Bertha do the same.

Ward McAllister’s “unfinished business”
Which makes you wonder why Ward McAllister didn’t foresee the social repercussions of exposing all his friends. Much like Truman Capote nearly a century later, he was turned away from every function, his access to the Manhattan upper echelons narrowing. In an about-face, he confronts Mrs. Astor in her home, telling her that he wrote the book because he has some “unfinished business” with his former friend. She herself is confused about the attack as the two go way back, plucking him out of country obscurity and “smoothing out his Savannah ways”. He gets a jab himself, saying she’s the wife of a man who can’t standing being around her, so he spends his time on a boat with showgirls instead. Like any queen, she has her buzzer in her reception room, escorting him out for good, it seems.
Bertha, ever the socially advantageous woman, invited the social pariah to her home, asking him for advice on how to proceed as the mother of a duchess. He tells her that she’s in a position to change society itself. With that, she has visions of ending the social ban on divorced women, inviting Aurora Fane to her Newport ball. Will Ward be able to tag along? he asks. Even she has her limits, as she declines.
John Adams is dead *sad face*

So, John Adams has died. The episode picks up a week or two after his violent death, getting hit by a carriage horse. Oscar, naturally, isn’t in great shape; he attended the funeral, sitting in the back row like a stranger who wanted to avoid the rain.
Meanwhile, his mother can’t seem to grasp why her son is so affected by the death. Yes, she knows they were friends, but in her mind, “men don’t feel these things the way we do”. He snaps at his Aunt Ada for reading John’s obituary out loud. Shocked, Agnes scolds her son, but Ada and Marian come to his defence, who knowingly cover up that Oscar is mourning the death of his saviour. As Marian follows him upstairs, the cousins don’t have to discuss the particulars of Oscar’s relationship to John. But even as he admits their intimate relationship, Marian is puzzled but is not revolted by the thought of two men. This is perhaps the closest we’ll come to diving into homosexuality during the Gilded Age.
Later, Oscar meets with John’s sister, who set up a meeting because her brother left a few things for him. Diffusing the tension and pretences, she quickly explains that she knew her brother was gay, and that the picture of Oscar in his bedside drawer meant they were an item. Lo and behold, John left his Hudson Valley estate to Oscar, a “cottage” on the Livingston Estate, the ancestral grounds of Agnes’ maternal family.
Hector the himbo

Across the Atlantic at Sidmouth, Hector received a telegram saying that his father-in-law, George, is in financial straits and that they won’t be receiving the promised allowance this cycle. This makes his sister, Lady Sarah, think they can just return Gladys like faulty goods. Instead, Hector the himbo tells his young wife that they needn’t worry: he doesn’t care about the money anymore.

The two make plans to head back to America in time for Bertha’s Newport ball. Sarah won’t be coming (not that she wanted too, anyway), but the united husband and wife gently nudge her that she should spend more time in London, even get her own place in the big smoke. Good riddance.
It’s not looking good for Peggy and Dr. Kirkland

All our hopes for Larian have now been transferred to Camp Peggy and Dr. Kirkland. The two have a romantic picnic luncheon where the doctor suggests that they attend his mother’s Newport ball together. Meanwhile, his mother is visiting Philadelphia, where apparently everyone knows Peggy had a baby out of wedlock, and that her son was then given up for adoption and eventually died of scarlet fever. The wheels behind Mrs. Kirkland’s eyes keep spinning, already scheming about how she can use this to break off her son’s relationship with Peggy. Everyone seems so bored in Philadelphia.

Larian is dead in the water

Clock the time of death on Larian. It seems it’s over.
Marian can’t come to forgive Larry for going to a house of ill repute like Haymarket. Her Aunt Ada tries to reason that she let him speak for himself, but Marian retorts that she’d be better off as a spinster. It’s a sore spot to hit her aunt on, who knows “the profound loneliness” and unmasked unhappiness being a spinster entails. It’s better to have known love even for a little while, Ada says.
Meanwhile, Larry comes home victorious with the copper that’ll save his family from ruin. He also receives the letter from Church from Marian about breaking off their engagement. He visits her at her work at the school, where she has him cornered about why exactly he lied about going to “Del Monico’s”.
Also, remember Jack? The former Forte/Van Rhijn footman brings Marian along to help him house-hunt, where he soon realises he’ll have to fill out his house with his own staff. Walking through the rooms, he defends Larry’s character to Marian, saying that he absolutely did nothing that night, and that the two pleasantly went back to 61st Street together.
RIP, railway daddy?

Ah, we’ve been hit with another tragic cliff-hanger.
Before we get into that, though, more about his precarious financial situation. He finally pulls Bertha in, telling her about the situation. “Are we headed for the poor house?” is like Laura Dern’s “I will not not be rich!” in Big Little Lies!
Anyway, financial precarity doesn’t last long when Larry arrives with news of his father’s unbeknownst copper-rich mines in Mirancy. George pulls this Uno reverse on Clay, rubbing in his face how stupid his former counsel was for writing off the land so soon.
As George and Larry plan their domination, Bertha walks in with her own victory after chatting with Ward McAllister. She’s talking about the upcoming ball, but the father and son disregard her social triumph. It’s heartbreaking to see her recoil in this way.
Later that night, a messenger boy visits George at his office, pulling out a pistol on the robber baron and his associates. It’s not difficult to imagine who might wish death on the man of industry: Clay probably hired the assassin. But I don’t think Fellowes has the guts to kill off another character consecutively. Doing so would be to turn Downton Abbey into Game of Thrones.
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