The Chronicles of Downton Abbey: A New Era (19 page)

Edith
If you’re going to talk about your
wretched arm again, I won’t listen.

Strallan
It’s not just my arm.
I’m too old for you. You need a young
chap, with his life ahead of him.

Before the war, many women of Edith’s class suffered almost interminable boredom. Viscountess Mersey recalled: ‘At Bowood during the winter I had my horse and I went hunting twice a week. On the other days I had nothing to do at all. I used to do the crossword and take my dog out, and that was about all …There was no question of doing any work. I think I did one or two things like the Young Conservatives Association, and went to meetings, and collected half-crown subscriptions, that sort of thing. I think most of my friends now would say that they were very bored.’

Edith
There’s nothing to do at the house
except when we entertain.

Violet
There must be something you
could put your mind to.

Post-war, things began to change; there were exciting developments. During the war, women had shown themselves as capable, hardy and patriotic, taking on a great deal of taxing work, whether nursing, factory work or agricultural labour. Peace ended all that, as there was a strong feeling in the country that the women should stand aside and allow returning servicemen to resume their positions. Nevertheless, there was a belief that the great contribution made by Britain’s females needed to be recognised and rewarded. This was one of the drivers behind the passing of the Representation of the People Act in 1918, which gave the vote to property-owning women who were over 30 years old. (Another factor was anxiety fuelled by accounts of the ongoing Russian Revolution; there was concern that a refusal to yield to demands for women’s suffrage might lead to revolution at home.)

Further legislation in 1919 opened up some of the professions, including banking, accountancy, medicine and engineering, to women. The actual benefits of the new franchise were tantalisingly out of the reach of Edith and her sisters – all of them being under 30. Nevertheless, something of the sense of possibility and self-confidence hung in the air.

The young, too, were enjoying unprecedented freedom. Before the war women lived with their parents until they married, and men enjoyed only slightly more autonomy if they attended university, leaving home to work once they were over the age of 21. Now both sexes were moving into small flats in London (although not together), driving motor cars and having fun. Surviving the war had left them with the feeling that life was short and had to be grabbed and lived. The older generations felt the sadness of their numerous bereavements hang heavily over them for years, but the young rose up with energy and daring like a phoenix from the ashes. One young woman, looking back at that time, wrote: ‘Am I imagining the golden burst of intoxicating high spirits which seemed to enfold England for several years after the First World War? I don’t think so … The sacrifices had been terrible, but one assumed that the result was worth it … The young men who were lucky enough to have survived felt like St Georges, who, having once and for all slaughtered the dragon, were clearly entitled to the pleasures of conquering heroes.’

Tales of the privileged few, together with some of the desperate, were soon doing the rounds – ‘bottle parties’ were supposedly scenes of drunken debauchery, morphine and cocaine were the drugs of choice, and dancing round the gramophone went on noisily until the small hours. London’s nightclubs were flourishing – from Café de Paris to Ciro’s and the Embassy – with their dimly lit, hot insides providing the perfect conditions in which heady affairs could bloom. This behaviour was not widespread and the public was shocked by reports of such shenanigans, but the young did discover a newfound confidence and an awareness that they no longer had to do what their parents told them.

Lady Manville
It’s exciting, Lord
Grantham. I feel like one of those
bright young people they write about
in the newspapers.

But up in Yorkshire, Edith would have struggled to draw courage from these vibrant and independently minded young people – they were too far away, too wild, to be relevant to her situation. Stuck at home, Edith is distracted only by thoughts of enticing Strallan into marriage. Her loving father, to whom she is close, is not at all keen on the idea; Strallan is so much older and is only going to need more and more care as he ages. Robert looks at his feisty, capable daughter and cannot bear to give her up to a life of nursing. Edith doesn’t see that she has much choice.

Edith
How can you not like him because
of his age? When almost every young
man we grew up with is dead! Do you
want me to spend my life alone?

Carmichael believes that Edith’s natural ally is Violet – ‘I think she takes her moral outlook on things from Granny’ – but she also finds support from Martha, Cora’s mother. It is Martha, rather than Violet, who believes Edith should be encouraged in her romantic ambitions with Strallan. Even Cora is not averse to the idea. She would rather her daughter was happily occupied than a lonely spinster, rattling around Downton Abbey. Edith’s sisters aren’t terribly much help in her cause – Sybil is fonder of Edith, but too preoccupied with her own worries, and while Edith’s relationship with Mary is better than it was, they antagonise each other nonetheless. ‘It’s her insecurity and jealousy that makes her do mean things,’ says Carmichael. ‘She would love to be able to patronise Mary for once. And if she thinks she sees a chance, then she can’t hide her nasty streak. When her own selfish needs come to the fore, she’s not good at hiding it. And when Mary pushes her superiority in her face too much, she can’t help reacting. Nevertheless, they definitely love each other. Edith just can’t help competing.’

Before the war, Mary never lost an opportunity to put Edith down, particularly when it came to her looks. The older sister was only too pleased to flaunt her beauty, knowing that it brought her the engagement of the then heir, Patrick Crawley; even though she didn’t much care for him herself, she knew that Edith was in love with him. When the mysterious ‘P. Gordon’ arrived at Downton claiming to be the long-lost Patrick Crawley, it looked for Edith as if she might get her chance again. Of course, as her luck would have it, he soon disappeared. But at least she is not pathetic. What with her stolen kisses from Mr Drake and reciprocated interest from ‘P’ and Strallan, she knows what it is to be desired. This has given her a confidence she didn’t have before, and her wardrobe in Series 3 reflects this.

Edith embraces the greater
freedom enjoyed by women
in post-war Britain. A visit
to her aunt in London reveals her
newfound confidence.

‘Her character had an awkwardness before, but I wanted her to have more sense of her own style in this series as she finds her feet in the world,’ says the costume designer, Caroline McCall. ‘Her clothes are slightly more practical, especially her daywear. Laura [Carmichael] particularly likes one of her outfits. It’s very simple, just a dark-amber blouse, with three-quarter-length sleeves, a square neck, and embroidery details at the waist. It has a straight skirt in a darker tone.’ Skirts of this period were generally straight, less A-line than before and more flattering. Another dress has a Grecian influence, ‘a loose, fluid shape in a coral colour, with a rope belt and a beaded trim. It is shot chiffon over silk; double layers were a feature of the time, but essentially it is very simple.’ As with all the women, it is the hat that is the obligatory finishing touch, and fortunately for Edith she ‘looks particularly good in hats with a low crown and a wide brim’.