A Year in the Life of Downton Abbey: Seasonal Celebrations, Traditions, and Recipes (32 page)

There’s a hush that falls just before filming begins. The first AD is heard to shout: ‘Stand by, nice and quiet please!’ The take number is called and then: ‘Action!’ The same scene will be filmed from different angles and several takes will be shot. The number of angles, Chris Croucher explains, is to do with the eyelines – if one character looks at another, you need to film each actor for the reactions. If there’s a conversation going on around the servants’ hall, this can mean as many as twenty-five angles being shot. Retakes may also happen because Alastair Bruce requests that someone in the background is seen ‘walking swiftly’ rather than ‘running’ (no one ran indoors in 1924). One day’s filming should produce around four or five minutes of film – it takes around twenty-six shooting days for two episodes in a ‘block’ to be completed, although this does not, of course, include the time needed for pre- and post-production business. The first and final longer episodes take around thirty-one days in total to shoot.

The evening before a day’s filming, cast and crew are sent the day’s call-sheet, detailing everything they need to know, from unit call time (the hour they have to be on set, usually 8 a.m., but if on location on, say, a London street, it can be a lot earlier) and wrap time (usually 7 p.m.), to the weather forecast. Scenes to be filmed are listed, with, for the casual visitor to the set, tantalising summaries: ‘Breakfast. Thomas has a letter. Carson tells Bates to look after Lord G.’ Extras needed are noted: ‘1 x House Maids; 2 x Hall Boys; 2 x Kitchen Maids'. Chris tells me they try hard to keep the same actors for non-speaking parts as far as possible, so that there is continuity, even in those unspoken, background narratives: ‘Madge, who is referred to occasionally but has never spoken, has been the housemaid that dresses Edith since Anna became Mary’s lady’s maid. We only replace the hall boys when they start to look too adult for the part [they would have been about fourteen or fifteen years old]. It’s nice to have the regulars – they know everyone and how it works. It’s like bringing the family back together.’

Special effects that will be needed next day are noted too – smoke and steam in the kitchen, for example, or a fire in the library’s hearth. The call-sheets are a good reminder as to how every single tiny detail that is seen on the screen has to be anticipated, planned and have a member of the crew take responsibility for it, in order for it to happen exactly as and when it is required. Which is pretty much how Carson and Mrs Hughes would run the house.

Allen Leech waits to go on set.

Living on the Estate

We know that Downton Abbey is the home of the Earl of Grantham and his family, but it also provides a home, work and shelter for many others. A mere fifty years or so before, Downton Abbey would have had the same significance in its local area as Buckingham Palace does in London today.

The lord and lady of the manor were the small principality’s own royalty, and their celebrations – weddings, and so on – were commemorated by everyone in the manor’s village (as we saw on Lady Mary’s wedding day in series three).

The best illustration of this is Consuelo Vanderbilt’s description of her arrival at Blenheim in 1895. Consuelo was an extraordinarily rich American heiress who was more or less married off to the Duke of Marlborough by her ambitious mother, Alva. It was a famously unhappy marriage (they eventually divorced in 1921, having separated many years before), although her money arguably saved Blenheim Palace and made it the glorious house we enjoy today. Despite her having grown up in some of the biggest and most elaborate residences in New York and Newport, as well as enjoying a certain celebrity status on her side of the pond – a crowd of thousands pushed their way down Fifth Avenue to catch a glimpse of her on her way to her wedding – Consuelo was taken aback by the scale of the welcome designed especially for the Duke’s bride.

Firstly, a private train took them to Woodstock from Oxford (a journey of seven miles); when they arrived at their station, there was a red carpet on the platform, upon which stood the Mayor in his scarlet robes, waiting to greet them with a speech. Instead of horses pulling their carriage to the house, a number of men did so, walking slowly through assembled crowds: ‘Somewhat discomfited by this means of progress, at which my democratic principles rebelled, I nevertheless managed to play the role in fitting manner, bowing and smiling in response to the plaudits of the assembled crowds,’ wrote Consuelo in her memoir,
The Glitter and the Gold.
‘Triumphal arches had been erected, children were waving flags, the whole countryside had turned out to greet us and I felt deeply touched by the warmth of their welcome.’

This kind of focus on the aristocratic families was partly because people travelled very little then (train travel was still quite expensive and only really used for special trips by the working classes), so their entire lives were centred on the small area in which they lived, and partly because ‘the big house’, as it was invariably known, was the primary source of employment. This is the great responsibility that Robert feels: to ensure that the house keeps going in order that it may continue to serve the local populace in the way that it always has, as well as keeping his family in a seat of power. Traditionally, this was easily done – an estate that had enough land to lease to tenant farmers needed only to collect the rents in order to pay for the running of the estate.

By the time Mary starts shouldering some of this responsibility, things have changed. Taxation is much higher (the standard income tax rate in 1914 was 6 per cent; in 1918, 30 per cent), agricultural depressions have left many farmers unable to pay their rent and the cost of servants and labourers is much higher. There is less money to go around and it’s harder to squeeze it out of the tenants – there has to be a new way forward if the estate is to survive.

Mary’s priorities are, then, slightly different from her father’s – her primary concern is that the house and estate are kept whole, so that her son may inherit. To this end, if there is a tenant who cannot pay, she would rather he was evicted and another found who can, rather than – as is Robert’s inclination, and as we saw with the Drewe family – allowing them to stay for no other reason than it has always been their home.

Cottages on the estate were not always rented out (hence not every inch of the land was making money for the landowner) – many were given to retired servants, as well as a few to those who were married but working for the house, as with Anna and John Bates. Many more were given to workers on the estate – married ones would be given their own, unmarried workers might have to bunk up together. These were often rated as prime positions, not just because the employee was given both work and a place to live, but because there would be ‘pickings’, whether that was a rabbit or two from a generous gamekeeper or a stray bit of game for the pot.

Mr and Mrs Bates decorate their cottage on the estate.

Soda bread is traditionally made in northern England, Scotland and Ireland. It uses bicarbonate of soda as the raising agent, which is activated by the acidity of the soured milk. Soda bread is very quick and easy to make and is best eaten warm, the day it is baked.

MAKES 1 LARGE LOAF

Preheat the oven to 450°F. Dust a baking sheet with flour.

If using full-fat milk, pour the milk it into a large jug, add the lemon juice and leave to stand for about 15 minutes at room temperature, by which time it will have thickened and curdled slightly.

Sift the flours and baking soda into a large bowl. Stir well. Make a well in the centre and gradually add the buttermilk or soured milk, using your hand as a claw to mix it in. Using your hands, bring the dough together, but do not knead it. The dough should be soft but not sticky. If it’s too wet, add a little more flour.

Place the dough on the baking sheet and tidy into a round, tucking the edges underneath to give a smooth outline. Pat the top lightly to flatten it a little, then cut a deep cross in the top using a large knife. Dust with a little flour and bake in the oven for 15–20 minutes. Reduce the heat to 400°F and bake for a further 20–25 minutes, until the loaf has a good colour and sounds hollow when tapped on the underside. Leave to cool on a wire rack.