The World of Downton Abbey Text Only

Lord Grantham and his daughters, as well as any guests, arrive in the dining room for breakfast at around 9am – Lady Grantham is absent, as married women enjoy the privilege of breakfast in bed. The footmen serve tea, as well as coffee and hot toast, but otherwise everyone helps themselves. This is the most informal meal of the day, when the family themselves lift the lids of silver chafing dishes, kept warm by small oil burners beneath and laden with bacon, eggs, devilled kidneys and porridge. Cold slices of tongue, ham and grouse are placed on the sideboard. Cornflakes, called ‘Post Toasties’, which have come from America, are on the table, with milk from the house’s dairy.

Phyllis Logan is Mrs Hughes

‘I like the scenes with Carson. In those moments they have a chance to be themselves, because they’ve always got his character very much in charge. Carson takes it all very seriously, but when he has his little chats with Mrs Hughes that’s his one opportunity for a bit of a release. So I do enjoy those scenes.’

LIFE IN THE KITCHEN

The kitchen staff worked the longest hours of all the servants, from the early morning start baking bread and preparing a cooked breakfast, until the servants’ supper late at night, not to mention the washing up of pots, pans and crockery in between. In every large house, the kitchen was the workplace of the cook and her ‘family’, who discouraged the interference of other servants; neither the butler nor the housekeeper, nor indeed any of their staff, were welcome within it without a good reason.

Although hard on her staff in the heat and bustle of the day, Mrs Patmore has her moments as a caring matriarch of her kitchen family, dishing out advice to Daisy, as the youngest member of her staff. The division between the servants applies to meals, too, with Mrs Patmore and her kitchen staff always eating separately in their own dominion; there they can all finally put their feet up in an atmosphere that is less stuffy than that of the servants’ hall, where the butler is on alert for any cheekiness and the housekeeper keeps a beady eye on any flirtation, poised to stamp it out with a fierce glare.

Lesley Nicol is Mrs Patmore

‘The basis for everything is something the historical advisor said to me: “Consider this like a show. It’s got to be the best show.” Then I got it. When someone comes to stay, they’ve got to leave saying it was perfect. My character has enormous pride and commitment. It just can’t go wrong, she can’t allow things to go wrong. But what else has she got? That’s her life.’

Alongside the endless cooking, the cook has to supervise the preparation of everything that comes out of her kitchen. She has an army of kitchen maids to help her, as everything from consommé to horseradish sauce must be made from scratch, not to mention the constant baking – every loaf of bread, cake and biscuit is homemade, ready for elevenses as well as afternoon tea.

MRS PATMORE

‘No! Listen to me! And take those kidneys up to the servery before I knock you down and serve your brains as fritters.’

Dinner is the big event for everyone in the house. Dressed in white tie, the family would assemble in the drawing room, where they would talk but not drink. In London there is a growing fashion for cocktails before dinner, but it hasn’t reached Downton yet. At dinner, with three courses at the very least – five if there are important guests – Mrs Patmore does her best to show off her culinary finesse (for the family anyway; the servants make do with simpler fare such as lamb stew and semolina, prepared by the kitchen maids).

At the table, Lord Grantham sits in the middle on one side, his wife opposite, as the Royals do. His mother, Violet, sits at his right as the next grandest woman in the room. Carson pours the wine and Thomas and William, wearing gloves (only footmen wore gloves and only to wait at table – never for any other task), serve the food, à la Russe. They begin by serving whoever is sitting on Lord Grantham’s right and work their way clockwise around the table, men and women alternately. The modern restaurant fashion for ‘ladies first’ is continental. The serving dish is held on the diner’s left while they help themselves. Finished plates are collected from the right-hand side. Only when Lord Grantham has the decanter of port and glasses (he will pour it himself) in the dining room and the women have been served coffee in the drawing room, may the servants have their supper. It is their first chance to relax since they started their working day.

BEHIND THE GREEN BAIZE DOOR

From the early hours of the morning until late at night, the servants are permanently on duty to attend to all the demands of the house and family. Below stairs, just a few moments of calm may be snatched during the day and are a welcome relief indeed.

Once the family have finished breakfast and gone about their business for the day, everyone has a list of chores to get on with until lunch. There is a brief respite for the servants’ midday meal at around noon before the machine is set in motion again for the family to be served their lunch promptly at 1pm. At about 4pm the servants are given bread and cheese by the cook and this must keep them going until they have their supper, a substantial two courses, but only after the family have finished theirs and the dining room has been cleared away. The crockery is brought downstairs for Daisy to wash up, but the glasses are left in the servery – they will be carefully cleaned the next day.

THOMAS

‘This isn’t her territory. We can say what we like, down here.’

Supper for the servants is always looked forward to – their work is over and it is the longed-for moment when they can all breathe, kick back and relax. It is also a time when the staff can have time to themselves away from the family and can indulge in some gossip about the goings-on in the house and amongst their employers. As Alastair Bruce, historical advisor, told the actors: for the servants, observing the family upstairs was the equivalent of watching Coronation Street or EastEnders today. But although the atmosphere is informal at the end of their working hours, lapses of manners are not permitted. Carson ensures that the servants of the house continue to reflect the gentility of the people they serve. A strict order of precedence is set around the table, just as in the dining room upstairs. Mrs Hughes sits at the right hand of Carson, the footmen sit by the butler, the head housemaid and lady’s maid by the housekeeper, with the lower-ranking servants at the other end of the table. In a house such as Downton Abbey, there is no concept of ‘off-duty’.

Knowing your place

On set, there is a genuine sense of an above and below-stairs division. On the first day Alastair Bruce divided the cast into ‘above’ and ‘below’ and they were put in different rooms to hear his talk on what life would have been like for them. Once they were filming, many of the below-stairs cast worked nearly all the time at Ealing Studios, rarely venturing to the big house to film at Highclere Castle, and vice versa. Lesley Nicol, who plays Mrs Patmore, says: ‘When you do a job like this, you start to take on the genuine feelings of your character. So when I went to Highclere, I felt very small indeed! It was overwhelming to be there.’

Away from the steaming hubbub that is the kitchen, the cogs of the estate turn at a rapid pace. Occasionally, the outside world intrudes. Deliveries are made throughout the day – newspapers early in the morning (The Times for his Lordship, The Daily Sketch for her Ladyship), fresh vegetables and meat from the home farm, produce from the dairy and goods from village shops. Post was delivered and collected twice a day – the family ‘posted’ their letters into a box in the hall, which had a sign on it: ‘Post will be collected at 9am and 4pm’. The butler took these letters, stamped them and gave them to the postman. The system was efficient – if a letter was received in the morning, a reply sent in second post arrived the next day. Telegrams were sent and received within hours; the footmen were dispatched to the Post Office with any urgent message to be relayed.

While Lord Grantham does not have a paid job – hence the family’s shock at Matthew Crawley’s intention to carry on his work as a solicitor – he is kept busy with the affairs of the estate. He is helped by members of the extended servants’ family: an estate manager who oversees the farm as well as the tenants’ cottages, and a gamekeeper who rears and protects the game and their cover for the shooting season, not forgetting the head gardener and his team of several under-gardeners. There are grooms, too, for the horses used for riding, hunting and to draw carriages.

Lady Grantham does not concern herself with the business of running the estate, but she has plenty of matters of her own that need attention. As the châtelaine, she is important to anybody who wishes to use the influence of the house – a fund-raising effort or the village flower show, for example. She also works closely with Mrs Hughes to ensure that any guests are well looked after, deciding which room they are staying in and which maid or footman will see to their requirements during their visit, if needed. Placement cards for the dinner table must also be written. Lady Grantham would also decide who to put next to whom at dinner, strictly observing the precedence of rank, of course. Whether entertaining visitors or not, each morning she would consult with Mrs Patmore in Cora’s sitting room for half an hour or so, and look over the day’s menu.

Siobhan Finneran is O’Brien

‘I loved filming all the scenes round the servants’ hall table. We all get on very well and there’s such a good atmosphere there, where you can get a bit lost at Highclere. I think we probably drove the directors mad because we’re all so noisy, but I think that helps the scenes.’

LOOKING AFTER THE FAMILY

While there were daily jobs that required everyone to work together in a synchronised way, such as mealtimes, there were many other essential tasks and details that needed addressing which were allocated to specific servants.

Carson, as butler, ensures that every member of his staff is occupied before retreating to his pantry to carry out jobs such as paperwork and decanting port. The perfect port at dinner must be poured in front of a lit candle, to check the colour, into a funnel covered with gauze to catch any dregs. Julian Fellowes was taught this method by Arthur Inch, footman to the Londonderry family before the war, and the advisor on Gosford Park. A scene was filmed showing this, but it was later cut, so Julian was delighted to be able to use it in Downton Abbey.

DAISY

‘Why are their papers ironed?’

O’BRIEN

‘To dry the ink, silly. We wouldn’t want his Lordship’s hands to be as black as yours.’

Miss O’Brien is perhaps the most sophisticated of the servants; to perform her role she must be skilled in dressing hair and the art of a lady’s toilette. She also has to be accomplished in fine sewing, as she is expected to mend her lady’s dresses and make some of her undergarments. Similarly, Bates must ensure his Lordship’s wardrobe is immaculate and ready to be worn whenever it is required, which means polishing cufflinks and shoes and mending any damaged garments. Servants learned the tricks of the trade by experience – their own and that of others around them – but there were also bibles of domesticity available to offer information, such as Mrs Beeton’s Book of Household Management. Published in 1861, her advice was still being followed well into the twentieth century. ‘Polish for the boots is an important matter to the valet, and not always to be obtained good by purchase; never so good, perhaps, as he can make for himself after the following recipe: Take of ivory-black and treacle each 4oz, sulphuric acid 1oz, best olive-oil 2 spoonfuls, best white-wine vinegar 3 half-pints: mix the ivory-black and treacle well in an earthen jar; then add the sulphuric acid, continuing to stir the mixture; next pour in the oil; and, lastly, add the vinegar, stirring it in by degrees, until thoroughly incorporated.’

Tricks of the trade

Charles Dean went to work for the Duke of Beaufort at Badminton, in 1920, as second footman. While there he was taught by the under butler, Jimmy Weedon, how to clean silver: ‘For him it was a ritual. He had two lead sinks; in one he had a mixture of soft soap and water and whisked it until it had a good froth; this he made in the morning and it lay there all day, being occasionally replenished. In the other sink he rinsed the silver under the hot tap, then transferred it to the soapy water, returned it and rinsed it in cold. Then he would lay it on the draining board on its side; it could stay there all day and not get smeary. When it was required he would throw a jug of hot water over it, wipe it and it was perfect.’

Tips from the Servants’ Hall

• Clean satin ball slippers by rubbing them with breadcrumbs.

• Fill red wine glasses with warm water so stains can’t develop before they are properly washed.

• Use soda to get marks out of a collar.

• Salt of sorrel will clean copper pots.

• Scour copper bowls with water and vinegar to get a high shine.

• Split card laid beneath brass buttons will protect the coat when polishing them.

• Wrap a delicate evening coat in linen when sewing on a missing button.

MARY

‘Women like me don’t have a life. We choose clothes and pay calls and work for charity and do the Season. But really we’re stuck in a waiting room until we marry.’

Elizabeth McGovern is Cora

‘Mary is a very well-written typical eldest child in that she puts her own needs at the forefront ... She’s not as inclined to conciliate or placate. Cora is fascinated by Mary.’

The daughters of the house – Mary, Edith and Sybil – find it hardest of all to carve out a role for themselves. In 1912 it was difficult for women to enjoy any kind of independence until they were married. While living under their father’s roof, they are subject to his rules. Fortunately, Cora and Robert are interested parents and Cora, as an American, might enjoy her children’s company more than her British counterparts would have done. Still, the girls’ time is mainly spent preparing themselves for a successful marriage. A governess was employed to teach French and possibly German. Then the girls would have been trained to start conversations, in preparation for their coming social duties with tongue-tied inferiors. Julian recalls that members of his own family had precisely this sort of instruction, ‘My great-aunts would be taken round the gardens by their governess and at every shrub they would have to introduce a new subject. The idea was that you could keep a conversation going even with someone who was completely socially incapable.’ On top of all this, any musical skill was always a bonus; playing the piano and singing – though only ever for private entertainments. Painting in watercolours was considered an asset (not, as a rule, oils, which were considered a little Bohemian), and embroidery and decoupage were encouraged.

Like all sisters, the girls can be arguing fiercely one minute and loyally defending each other the next. Edith, squashed between the beautiful Mary and the ambitious Sybil, sets herself up in competition with her elder sister, scheming to win their battle to land a suitable husband. Mary, as the first born, feels the pressure to get the very best husband possible; when potentially brilliant suitors appear to be making overtures to Mary, the whole household is on tenterhooks.

When not plotting invitations to eligible sons, writing carefully worded letters to them, or practising any of the skills that are supposed to improve their marriage prospects, the girls spend most of their time changing their outfits throughout the course of the day. The choosing of skirts and accessories, finding clever ways to update details and trying out new hairstyles, turns the chore of dressing into something rather more pleasant. At least this side of life is unashamedly fun when they are all together and getting on well, gossiping with each other and the maids, who are helping them dress. At all other times, the lives of the daughters and the servants could not be further apart, but in those moments they share in the simple delight of being young girls together.

Dan Stevens is Matthew

‘There’s no such thing as a typical day’s filming, but if it’s a full day, I’ll be collected by car at 5.30am and driven to Highclere to meet other bleary-eyed actors. After breakfast and 20 minutes in the make-up chair, I’m ready to start shooting. Sometimes we manage two or three scenes in a morning, but often it takes that long for a single scene. Lunch is a good chance to sit on the bus and chat to the other actors and crew. We shoot more scenes in the afternoon until tea and cake at 4pm, which causes a flurry. We can’t take any food or drink that’s not water into the house, so we usually cower under a rain shelter, but if there’s glorious sunshine we can have tea on the lawn. We wrap about 7pm and then I’m driven home.’

Elizabeth McGovern is Cora

‘I think Cora is very much an emotionally connected mother. As an American she would have a distinctive approach, different to the English aristocracy’s way of doing things. Her instinct is to be involved with the day-to-day and to go about things in a more hands-on way.’

Society CHAPTER TWO

Mary: ‘I hope you’re not dreading it too much?’

Robert: ‘Not dreading it exactly, but it’s a brave

new world we’re headed for, no doubt about that;

we must try to meet it with as much grace

as we can muster ...’

To be truly accepted into Society at the turn of the last century, you had to be born into it. While there were books published on etiquette, there were pages and pages more of unwritten rules that should be observed – and a knowledge of these marked out those who were grand as opposed to those who were not. For someone like Violet, the Dowager Countess, the notion of her world changing and allowing a broader cross-section of people to enter it was insupportable. Some things were preordained and immutable: Society, and the circle of people who encompassed it, was one of them.

Violet is an aristocrat through and through and, as a firm believer in noblesse oblige, is committed to its principles. Although aware of the changes occurring, or threatening to occur, in the younger generation’s way of life, Violet nevertheless believes that the rules of Society are fixed. So when she is faced with a middle-class interloper, with his ‘weekends’ and his bicycles, taking over her late husband’s family’s title and estate, she expects that the sheer might of her aristocratic power and privilege will win out and preserve the status quo.

VIOLET, THE DOWAGER COUNTESS

‘I have plenty of friends I don’t like.’

ISOBEL CRAWLEY

‘What should we call each other?’

VIOLET, THE DOWAGER COUNTESS

‘We could always start with Mrs Crawley and Lady Grantham.’

However, the situation is not as bleak as Violet would paint it; although he has a lot to learn when it comes to the subtle politics of life as a nobleman, Matthew is not a man without social standing. He is, in fact, a part of the prosperous, professional upper-middle class. Brought up in Manchester by well-educated parents, he could certainly conduct himself with ease in even the upper tiers of Society – he can ride and is affronted when Thomas infers that he may not know how to serve himself at dinner. Yet Matthew is also a liberal: he understands the argument put forward by the suffragettes and is sympathetic to their cause. He is on the side of social change and so when he discovers he is to inherit a new position in the higher ranks of Society, as an earl with a great estate, he does not immediately feel it is a good thing. Matthew is not socially ambitious, but his feelings are irrelevant; whatever happens he will become an earl, what matters is how he handles this transition.

Violet, the Dowager Countess

‘Violet believes that if you take a brick out of the aristocratic wall the whole thing comes crumbling down’, says Julian Fellowes. Violet knows that she can do nothing about Matthew Crawley inheriting Lord Grantham’s title – in 1912 there was no legal mechanism in place which would enable someone to renounce a peerage – but she decides she must do all she can to save Cora’s money for Mary, if not the whole estate itself. As she herself said: ‘Mary holds a trump card. Mary is family.’ After all, Violet worked for years to keep the estate going and continues to live on it as the Dowager Countess; she cannot allow this remote cousin to threaten the formidable walls of prestige that buttress her own existence.

More sympathetic to Matthew’s plight is Cora, who, as an American, is well versed in the treatment meted out to outsiders. Her mother-in-law has, after all, managed to be insufferable to her for 24 years. While Cora is educated in the strange ways of the English upper classes and has adopted most of them as her own, she is not a snob and she does not denigrate people who try to make their own way in the world. ‘I can’t see why he has the right to your estate or my money,’ Cora tells Robert later. ‘But I refuse to condemn him for wanting an honest job.’

MATTHEW

‘I still don’t see why I couldn’t just refuse it.’

ISOBEL CRAWLEY

‘There is no mechanism for you to do so! You will be an earl. You will inherit the estate.’

Cora’s story is a familiar one amongst the English aristocracy at the time. She was part of a wave of eligible American girls who came to Britain from the late 1870s for the next 50 years; they were known as the ‘Buccaneers’. These girls were often daughters of self-made men who had originated in the backwaters of America but had now left that life behind them with newfound wealth. Having made their money and built opulent houses, these entrepreneurs wanted to secure their daughters’ futures with good marriages. They wanted the thing that money couldn’t buy: class.

But there was just one problem. The upper echelons of Society in Virginia or Wisconsin, let alone New York, were almost impenetrable. Usually there was a formidable society hostess at the top, and she would decide whether you were in or out. If there was even a hint of scandal in the past or your family was not deemed ‘old’ enough, you weren’t in –and there was very little you could do to get there. So the more determined matriarchs made their way to Europe, where the aristocrats were secure enough in their titles and estates to welcome the pretty, rich and fun young women to the party. And, they liked the smell of the American girls’ money. One of the earliest of these matriarchs leading the wave across the Atlantic was the mother of Jennie Jerome. She managed to secure a noble marriage for her daughter to Lord Randolph Churchill, which gave Jennie her entrée into Society. Their son was Winston, who became the famous wartime Prime Minister.

MARY

‘You’re American. You don’t understand these things.’

Cora, the daughter of Isidore Levinson, a dry goods millionaire from Cincinnati, arrived in England in 1888, when she was 20 years old, with her mother as chaperone. By this time, even respectable rich American girls preferred to find their husbands amongst the nobility. Thanks to the successes of the earlier Buccaneers and a fashion for all things European, from interiors to dress designers such as the House of Worth, pursuing an English marriage had now become desirable. For these families, the many years in which Americans had fought to escape the clutches of colonial rule and create their own republic appeared to have been forgotten.

In fact, even the early Buccaneers found that getting a title was positively easy: many members of the English upper classes had fallen on hard times and they needed American money to bail them out and secure their estates. In order to achieve such a match, Cora’s mother knew she had to ensure that her only daughter made the best possible entrance into Society. There was only one way to do this: to get presented at Court.