A Year in the Life of Downton Abbey: Seasonal Celebrations, Traditions, and Recipes (30 page)

Anna Robbins enjoys dressing Elizabeth McGovern as Cora: ‘She’s really stylish – she has a different take on it, as an American, and real flair. There’s a soft fluidity to her look – things drape really well on her. I found some beautiful lace in Paris that was crying out for Elizabeth’s frame. Her colours are muted and softer – rose, taupe – those work for her, as well as some dark reds and blues. You can really punch in with accents when you need to.’

Of course, no real lady gets ready alone – she needs the skills of her lady’s maid to make her look the very best of herself. Since the departure of Cora’s long-term lady’s maid, the wicked Miss O’Brien, her replacement, Baxter, has been rather intriguing to follow. Her background has remained opaque and rather confusing – she seems nice, but if she is, how can she be in cahoots with the manipulative Thomas? Raquel Cassidy (Baxter), joining the show in series four, felt the same way as her character, walking into a house that already had established colleagues within it: ‘She’s nervous and wants to do a good job – and I was nervous and wanted to do a good job! If you look at the first few scenes, she’s very happy and loves her work and soon becomes intensely loyal to Lady Grantham.’ Baxter’s best skill is as a seamstress: ‘She’s run up a couple of nice dresses for herself and I happen to really like them.’ But, times being what they are, even a lady’s maid may be called on to help out unexpectedly: ‘We filmed a cocktail party and Baxter and some of the ladies from below stairs were handing out canapés. I don’t do these scenes very often, but I enjoy it because it feels like training, with Alastair [Bruce] instructing.’ Raquel quickly learned the importance of her character’s work: ‘One of the things to keep in mind is that they do have some downtime, but for the most part, they’ve got things on their mind and things to do; they get on with it with a certain sense of urgency. It’s not emotion that drives their lives – that’s almost secondary.’

Guests who have arrived from further afield may need to be introduced to each other. A book of etiquette published around 1925 offers clarity on exactly how these introductions should be received. When meeting guests at a dinner party or ball, parties should bow, but not shake hands. However, if you are meeting, say, the relations of your fiancé, then you must shake hands: ‘These are assumed to be the beginnings of lifelong friendships, and so are inaugurated with more of heartiness and less of formality.’ If a hand is offered, it should always be accepted, but one’s handshake must be carefully devised: ‘We all know the “pump-handle” shake, and the “concertina” shake, and the “piston shake” needs no description … All extremes are vulgar and society generally adopts the middle course.’

Baxter

In fashionable houses – of which Downton Abbey is
not
one – cocktails are served before dinner. This is a trend that began in London after the First World War, but moved very slowly around the counties. ‘Not at Downton, I’m afraid,’ apologises Mary to a guest who wonders where the pre-dinner drinks are. ‘It may take another war.’

Instead, at Downton, strict etiquette is observed. Each man is assigned a woman to take through to supper. If a woman gets up from the table, all the men present stand. During the first course, the hostess will talk to the person on either her left or right, whichever direction it is, the rest of the women follow; for the main course, they ‘turn’ and talk to the person on their other side. Finally, at the end of the supper, the table ‘splits’, with the women getting up to have their coffee in the drawing room, while the men remain at the table with the port.

‘Nothing is simpler than avoiding people you don’t like. Avoiding one’s friends is the real test.’

VIOLET, DOWAGER COUNTESS OF GRANTHAM

As hostess, Cora would definitely be judged on the food coming from her kitchens, despite the fact that she would not have been expected by anybody to have stirred a single sauce, let alone chopped an onion. She would, however, have planned the menu with Mrs Patmore and be well versed in the fashionable dishes and ingredients of the day. Likewise, Robert would be judged on the quality of the wine, although it is Carson who manages the cellar and would have, in all probability, selected the wines for the supper, with Robert merely nodding in agreement.

A grand dinner with guests from outside the family would have at least nine courses, each one modest in size (‘I’ll punish them,’ said one cook of the 1920s, cross with her employer. ‘I’ll only serve six courses.’). Duff Cooper, a man who always seemed to be somewhere within the most influential social and political circles of his time, describes, in his 1924 diary, a dinner party he gave for four male friends: ‘I took trouble about it and it was a great success. We had caviare, turtle soup, homard new burg [
Sic
] [a lobster dish], perdrix aux choux [partridge with cabbage], asparagus (which cost £1 a bundle), blackberry ice, mushrooms, sherry, Mumm 1911, light port, 1875 brandy. They all enjoyed it and praised the fare which certainly was damned good.’ Note the use of French for the dishes, which was entirely in keeping, as well as the delight of the extravagant, out-of-season asparagus. The ‘mushrooms’ were almost certainly a savoury, an old-fashioned finish to a meal that meant one had a non-sweet taste in the mouth, allowing further drinking to ensue. Julian is on a campaign to bring back savouries and puts them into the script wherever possible.

After dinner is over, bar a glass of brandy and a cigarette (we don’t see people smoking in
Downton
nearly as much as they would – it’s one instance where modern sensibilities have to overrule historical accuracy, but in 1924 four in five men smoked and half the women; the smoke hung permanently in the air), the guests would go to bed. Cora and Robert are a rather romantic exception to the general rule that married couples slept in separate beds. In a very grand house, such as Downton, married couples would be given two bedrooms next door to each other, which gave them the choice of sleeping either together or separately. Similarly, in smaller houses, married guests would be given just the one bedroom, but with a dressing room next door, with a single bed made up in it.

Unmarried guests would be given bedrooms in either the female or bachelor corridors. This naturally meant that those who fancied a little ‘corridor creeping’, to steal into a fellow guest’s bed, had the perfect opportunity. Lady Warwick famously had a bell rung at 6 a.m. at Easton Lodge, so everyone could get back to their own beds before the maids came in. Duff Cooper describes sneaking to a lover’s room at 2 a.m. while his wife is away – ‘a very long, dangerous and difficult journey in the dark over loud creaking boards and round a dozen corners’. There must have been several occasions when one
amour impropre
bumped into another as they felt their way down the gloomy hallways. But my favourite story, which did the rounds at the time, is of the man who leapt on his lover’s bed in the dark, shouting, ‘Cock-a-doodle-doo!’ only to find he had awoken a bishop and his wife.

It’s exactly those awkward moments that Julian likes exploring – a house party is the perfect setting for him. ‘What’s interesting about a tight society is the moment when they get bored of doing everything correctly,’ he explains. ‘The exact moment when the rules are relaxed – that’s interesting. With the Victorians, for example, it was all about the look of the thing. No one blamed you for being unhappily married or even having an affair, so long as you were discreet. But heaven help you if you started making a splash.’

Next morning, proprieties re-gathered, the married women would stay in bed to receive their breakfast on a tray from their lady’s maids: a boiled egg and a cup of tea, perhaps. Baxter wins her American mistress’s favour with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. The rest of the family and guests, the men and unmarried women, would have their first repast of the day in the dining room. The footmen would have served them the night before, but for breakfast, they merely fetch and carry the hot drinks, bacon, eggs and toast from the kitchens to the sideboard in the dining room; it is
de rigueur
for the guests to help themselves.