HBO’s popular historical series, Gilded Age, recently came to a buoyant conclusion. Fans are still atwitter over the grand finale, which was served with a side of ballroom frivolity.

Revenge is a dish best served cold, as Bertha Russell (Carrie Coon) discovers in Gilded Age’s finale. (Photo courtesy of HBO)

In the bodice-bursting final episode of HBO’s Gilded Age, our favorite social climber, Bertha Russell, exacted her revenge on New York City society circa 1883 with the precision of a guillotine. It was delicious to watch. From our vantage point in the ringside seats, HBO viewers finally got to see dancers in Bertha’s ballroom. And we learned there’s nothing as Versailles-esque as a ball thrown with pre-income-tax money.

Alabama-born Alva Vanderbilt dressed as a Venetian princess for her New York City costume ball in 1883. (Photo courtesy of the New-York Historical Society Library)

Was Bertha’s grand-finale ball in the Gilded Age as ridiculously opulent as the ball on which it was based, produced by Alva Vanderbilt in New York City in 1883? Why yes, yes it was. At one point, men danced the quadrille in horse costumes (to give an indication). Alva’s extravagance in producing her 1,200-guest ball was well-documented: Contemporary sources estimated its cost at $250,000, nearly $6 million in today’s money, including $65,000 for champagne and $11,000 for flowers.

Alva’s ball inspired Gilded Age creator and co-showrunner Julian Fellowes, who also created the series’ across-the-pond cousin Downton Abbey, to closely recreate the details for Bertha’s party with one exception. Alva’s was a costume ball, whereas Bertha’s featured a handful of costumed dancers, while guests wore gowns and tuxedos. Fellowes said he felt costumes would distract viewers from the finale’s dramatic conclusion. (So, thankfully, no one nicknamed “Puss” wore a costume made of taxidermized cats, as happened at Alva’s fancy dress fête*.)

In the Gilded Age finale, the décor ran to excess, as it did in every other well-appointed episode of this critically acclaimed series. Now, let’s chit-chat about who’s who in the 1880s and find some GasLamp antiques like those used in the velvet-roped microculture of Industrial Revolution wealth.

SILVER TEA SERVICE

Bertha Russell (Carrie Coon) floats on a sea of pink in her bedroom, complete with the requisite tea tray and portrait by Giovanni Boldini, a sought-after portraitist of the day. (Photo courtesy of HBO)

The characters of the Gilded Age often sit on the edge of their seats, figuratively and literally. Either way, there’s a tea tray in sight, whether the room is a parlor, kitchen, or bedroom. A blueblood’s snub so enrages Bertha Russell that she flings a silver tea service across her bedroom in one scene. (True story. Bertha did not come to Fifth Avenue to play.)

At GasLamp, this silverplate tea service is a less expensive version than Bertha’s.

Being a beacon of self-invention, Bertha would have had a silver tea service rather than a silverplate set. But there’s a more economical find at GasLamp in this three-piece silverplate tea service from the Sheffield Silver Co. of England ($87.50; Booth B-109). The delicate engravings include floral wreaths tied with ribbons and bows.  

WATERFORD CRYSTAL

Bertha Russell (Carrie Coon), Ward McAllister (Nathan Lane), and Aurora Fane (Kelli O’Hara) raise their crystal champagne flutes to Thomas Edison’s then-newfangled technology, electricity. (Photo courtesy of HBO)

Bertha’s favored habitat is perfumed drawing rooms, but she’s not yet in the “right” perfumed drawing rooms. She sips from a staggering array of crystal glasses during her hero’s journey to social acceptance. Our gal even brings her best cut-crystal flutes to the seventh episode, entitled “Irresistible Change.”

The episode’s plot marries Thomas Edison’s newfound electricity use with Bertha’s social climb. In her highly polished carriage, she takes a party of four to a public social occasion – Edison’s historic electric illumination of The New York Times building. Her footmen pour bubbly for social arbiter Ward McAllister (Nathan Lane), whom Bertha is in the process of bewitching.

These vintage flutes at GasLamp are in mint condition and were produced in Waterford, Ireland.

Bertha’s flutes are like a set of six Waterford flutes available at GasLamp ($249.95; Booth B-210). These vintage flutes are in mint condition and were handmade in Waterford, Ireland, where lead glass has been manufactured since 1783. (Fun fact: Bertha’s ancestors emigrated to America from Ireland, a tidbit her son referenced during a dinner party.)

LOUIS XV CHAIR  

Peggy Scott (Denée Benton) sits on the edge of her gilt seat in the art-filled salon of Sylvia Chamberlain. (Photo courtesy of HBO)

Bertha Russell isn’t the only grand dame populating Gilded Age. Rivaling her taste level is Sylvia Chamberlain (Jeanne Tripplehorn), a fine art collector whose salon is filled with works by French Impressionists Edgar Degas, Paul Cézanne and Claude Monet. Naturally, Louis XV-style gilt furniture also populates Sylvia’s salon, and it is from this glamorous perch that fledgling journalist Peggy Scott (Denée Benton) divulges a secret.

This French-style bergère features the cabriole legs of the Louis XV style.

Adding one elegant chair to a room can infuse it with grace, especially a sinuous Louis XV bergère with trademark cabriole legs. This chair at GasLamp features cushioned armrests and curvaceous backrests ($120; Booth B-206). Its cream-colored finish gives the chair a French country look that is more rustic than the gilt finish seen in Sylvia’s Gilded Age salon, where kisses are stolen and secrets shared.

JAPANESE IMARI PORCELAIN

The Russell family’s servants sip out of Imari teacups that reflect the style of the lady of the house. (Photo courtesy of HBO)

Bertha Russell’s freshly minted money fuels her appetite for exotic European and Asian home goods. Her style extends to her mansion’s elaborately appointed kitchen, where her staff sips from Japanese Imari teacups. (As with Julian Fellowes’ other popular series Downton Abbey, the Gilded Age includes the upstairs-downstairs dynamic between wealthy homeowners and the servant class.) 

Elaborately detailed and painted in a palette of navy, orange and gilt, as seen in this gorgeous charger at GasLamp, Imari is one of the prized porcelains of Japan.

Imari porcelain can be Chinese or European in origin but was first created in Japan’s Hizen area and then shipped to the West from the port of Imari, hence the name. As with later porcelain production in France and England, Japan’s Imari emerged due to a region rich in kaolin clay. This gorgeous charger at GasLamp is an excellent example of Imari porcelain ($87.50; Booth B-109).  

BROWN TRANSFERWARE

Across the street from the Russells’ French chateau, the van Rhijn brownstone possesses a subdued style. (Photo courtesy of HBO)

Upon close inspection, one sees that the kitchen of the subdued van Rhijn brownstone reflects the genteel 19th-century style of the family. This staff doesn’t sip its collective tea from exotic, hand-painted Japanese porcelain. Rather, servants can be seen eating from English brown transferware made for everyday use.

The van Rhin servants eat their staff meals on brown transferware like this vintage soup tureen with a ladle at GasLamp.

Invented by Miles Mason in the 1780s and patented by his son in 1813, transferware is made with durable ironstone. The utilitarian dinnerware emerged in England during the Industrial Revolution and was an early example of a massed-produced product. To make transferware, English manufacturers engraved a pattern onto a copper plate, applied ink and a thin paper, and then pressed – or transferred – the design onto the earthenware. This practice eventually produced many different colors and patterns, including the famous cobalt blue of the Blue Willow pattern. Currently at GasLamp, this vintage ironstone soup tureen with a ladle is a great example of brown transferware ($85; Booth B-109; no lid).

Like Bertha Russell’s digs, Alva Vanderbilt’s opulent French château style mansion was located at the corner of 660 Fifth Avenue and 52nd street and possessed a Central Park view. (Photo courtesy of the City Museum of New York)

By the conclusion of the Gilded Age series, Bertha’s ball served its dual purpose. It presented her daughter to society in a ballroom filled with New York City’s fanciest folk. And it officially opened the Russell family’s French-style mansion, that glorious spectacle of conspicuous consumption, to the public.

In real life, Alva Vanderbilt’s story continued at a dramatic clip after her 1883 ball. Her strikingly beautiful daughter, Consuelo Vanderbilt, became the queen of international high society (painter Giovanni Boldini called her “divine”). Regrettably, Consuelo initially experienced what was essentially an arranged first marriage to Charles Richard John Spencer-Churchill, 9th Duke of Marlborough, considered the most eligible peer in Great Britain at the time. Then she did the unthinkable by taking her reported $4 billion fortune (in today’s money) and divorcing him. Alva and Consuelo Vanderbilt went on to happy second marriages and supported the women’s suffragette movement. All’s well that end’s well.

But was it worth the $6 million Ava spent on that ball? Fans of costumes, antiques and frothy interiors thought so while watching the lavish conclusion of the Gilded Age.

GILDED AGE TRIVIA

For Ava Vanderbilt’s costume ball, Miss Kate “Puss” Fearing Strong wore a cat costume complete with a taxidermized cat as a headpiece. (Photo courtesy of the City Museum of New York)

*In an extreme example of gilding the lily, Kate Fearing Strong wore a peculiar cat costume to Alva Vanderbilt’s 1883 ball. Described by novelist Henry James as “youthful and precocious,” Kate went as her nickname “Puss” by wearing a costume consisting of a taxidermied cat head, an overskirt made of seven white cats’ tails sewn onto a dark background, and a ribbon tied around her neck that read “Puss.” (Isn’t there a saying about having more money than sense?)