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rosalyn51 · 1 year

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How realistic is Downton Abbey?

British Heritage Travel, March 27, 2023

The period mellow drama has fans around the world but today we ask just how realistic is Downton Abbey?

From Boston to Brisbane, Downton Abbey has fans around the globe. The sweeping period drama chronicles the historical events and early 20th-century lives of the residents of stately Downton Abbey, home to the Crawleys - the Earl of Grantham and his family - and all who ebb and flow in its umbra.

Drawing on the upstairs/downstairs tradition of Upstairs, Downstairs, the structure itself is a popular, proven series format. With almost three-dozen characters living at Downton, the viewer is expected to follow and care for, there’s someone or several with whom anyone can identify.

The lavish production of the Edwardian nobility’s elegant world is both dizzying and dazzling. Upstairs, this world is governed by the conventions of the aristocracy as much as by the hierarchical order radiating from the Earl of Grantham, his mother, the Dowager Countess, and his American-born wife, Cora. Downstairs, the pecking order is even more rigid, with the butler, Mr. Carson, and the housekeeper, Mrs. Hughes, unassailable at the top of the social pyramid.

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There are few grays in the Downton Abbey world. Right, wrong, done, and not done are clearly known by all. Much-applauded author Julian Fellowes has made sure that we know black from white in this world as well. There are the good guys and girls and there are the villains. We can’t understand how everyone from scullery maid Daisy to Lady Grantham fails to see that footman Thomas and Lady’s maid O’Brien are a bad lot all around. Among the questions I have been asked most about Downton Abbey is how accurately the series depicts Edwardian and post-Edwardian life in an aristocratic home such as Downton. Are we getting the real picture?

How truthful is Downton Abbey?

In most respects, very. The one element that does not ring true is the easy interaction and conversation between the upstairs world of the family and their peers and the downstairs world of the hired help. That just didn’t happen (or at least not on such a scale). Most of the family wouldn’t have even known a housemaid’s name. These great country homes had back stairways for a reason. There’s not going to have been much interaction between these social sets, let alone much of an emotional connection. Of course, it always takes some element of the improbable to make a story a story instead of a dull narrative.

Downton Abbey is inexplicably situated in distant Yorkshire (probably to avoid having to weave London life into the tale). In “real life,” the series is shot at Highclere Castle, near the Berkshire market town of Newbury - about 65 miles west of London. What was originally, and probably more accurately, named Highclere House, the “castle” has been the ancestral home of the Earls of Carnarvon for more than 300 years. Its present residents are the youngish 8th Earl and Countess of Carnarvon.

Vising the real Downton Abbey

With unknown crowds of others, I went to see Highclere Castle this spring - just to catch the buzz and a few pictures. While Highclere Castle is open to the public regularly only from July through mid-September, they do open for a two-week spring season at Easter. The weather was generally gray and wet on the April Friday I was there, but the place was mobbed and the sun broke out. Most folks were there to visit Downton Abbey. In fact, a huge marquee had been erected on the back lawn to serve as an auxiliary tearoom to the regular café located downstairs in the old housekeeper’s suite.

No, somehow the crowds didn’t dampen the experience at all. I wandered the grounds and gardens, where folk were picnicking and kibitzing with the gardeners.

The stream of visitors into the house was controlled to keep the flow from feeling crowded or hurried. Stewards in each room were helpful with questions, but not obtrusive. The Earl and the estate staff are hardly oblivious to Highclere’s new reincarnation as Downton Abbey in the popular imagination. Each room contains a photo placard identifying how the room has been used and filmed in the series, from the Grand Parlor to the bedroom where the unfortunate Mr. Pamouk stayed, eh, briefly.

It’s a grand house indeed. It ought to be. Designed and built by Charles Barry, the architect of the Houses of Parliament, Highclere is one of England’s showcase Victorian mansions. Certainly the ground floor reception rooms are recognizable from the series. You won’t see Lady Mary or Carson gliding out of the dining room—but it’s easy to imagine..

Downstairs, the old servants’ domain has long been turned to more functional service space. The path of the house visit takes you downstairs to the tearoom and out into the carriage house yard and gift shop. Vestiges of the old service quarter remain. In the lower hall, the old bell board still hangs, where maids and footmen could be summoned by bell to any room in the house. I counted the named rooms signaled on the bell board. There were 64.

What happened to the world of Downton Abbey?

The other question about the series that I’ve received time and again still remains: “Whatever happened to the world of Downton Abbey?”

Part of the enjoyment we derive from period dramas like Downton Abbey is our understanding that these are, indeed, images of times past, from a world that no longer exists and will never exist again. The halcyon life of the British landed aristocracy reflected at Downton Abbey, though, is less than a century old. Why did it disappear so quickly and so completely? Where are Britain’s Downton Abbeys today?

Well, they write books about that. There is a short answer, though, and part of it is found in the series itself: The Great War. Among other effects of the war, Europe’s conflagration virtually drained Britain of a generation of young men. For the men remaining as well as for women, new avenues of employment quickly opened up that competed well against the option of domestic service.

Britain’s economic engine had already changed, however. Wealth no longer lay in the land that supported the old aristocracy; it lay increasingly in the manufacture and in commerce. Social and political power had shifted as well. Through the early 1900s, the working classes increasingly realized the power of their voice and vote. The social institution that best-represented community for nonagricultural workers became no longer the church or chapel, but the trade union. The unions provided workers with social clubs and institutes, a small measure of the economic safety net, and incrementally a better working life. And the unions exercised the political power of their united working-class voice.

When the Labour governments came in between the wars, they began a systematic program to dislodge the landed wealth of the hereditary peerage and gentry. Among the primary means of doing so was the establishment of death duties at deliberately confiscatory levels. It was, after all, the land that provided the principal income to the estate - in the form of ground rent. As the old baron died, his family had to sell up significant quantities of land to pay the death duties. That left measurably less rental income to maintain the estate and the family.

What does that mean?

After a couple of generations, there was just nothing left - or not enough left to maintain a home-like Downton Abbey. From Devon to Durham, hundreds of families were left with these huge, magnificent, historic albatrosses around their neck. From the 1920s-1960s scores of such stately homes were simply torn down. Dozens of grand country homes were gradually ceded to the National Trust, who do a monumental job of conserving them for the nation. Most of those still in private hands open their gates, gardens, and doors to paying visitors, whose admissions serve to provide the vastly expensive maintenance costs on such arky mansions. In many cases, that’s not enough, and the enterprising old stock has enhanced their entertainment appeal with everything from safari parks and farm stands to hosting weddings.

Whatever happened to Downton Abbey? It became Highclere Castle. The series has raised the profile of Highclere Castle just as Brideshead Revisited did for Yorkshire’s Castle Howard. The swell of visitors this spring is undoubtedly only a foretaste of the paying guests the house will receive during the summer season, one hopes.

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downton-musings · 11 months

Text

Suitors (Thomas Barrow x Female Reader x Tom Branson) CH. 1

Pairings: Thomas Barrow x Female Reader x Tom Branson

Synopsis: One of the Crawley cousins comes for a visit, catching the eye of two household members

Warnings: Slight angst (expressed frustration/jealousy)

Author’s note: Thomas is portrayed as being heterosexual (straight) in this series. If that offends or upsets you, kindly keep scrolling.

This is a series, and will be posted in multiple chapters, also the reader is 19 years old*

——————————————————————————

The car engine buzzed underneath your feet as it rolled on the gravel, stopping once it reached the abbey.

You habitually brushed your hands over your dress, disturbing the loosely sewn beads into soft waves.

A well built and tall butler appeared out of the large doorframe in an orderly manner, quick to work the door open with a flat smile.

You ducked out of the vehicle, sighing contently as the country air hit your nose. There is nothing quite as refreshing as the smell of a familiar place.

A footman with dark curls worked with haste, unlatching your bags from the trunk with a soft huff as he grasped both large cases in his hands.

Your eyes followed him as he started for the door, “Thank you.” He received your affections with a polite grin before disappearing behind the entrance.

Your attention moved to the butler behind the open car door, hands pulled back behind him. He appeared to be the superior, given the hold of his head up in a proper posture. You smiled warmly at him, “Thank you, Mr…”

“Barrow ma’am,” He completed your sentence with a flat smile, cheeks flushing softly under your gaze.

“Barrow.” You repeated with a smile, flicking over his masculine features. He was intriguing, too handsome for a butler. Unlike the ones you’re used to encountering.

He cleared his throat in nervousness, dissolving your thoughts with the shut of the car door, sending the driver off and down the path.

Holding your clutch in front of you, you granted yourself access to the home, stepping into the grand entrance with graceful steps.

He followed behind, pulling the door closed as you stepped into the foyer.

“Y/n,” a smooth feminine voice called out from the sitting room. “How lovely it is to see you.” A pair of turquoise eyes met yours, creasing with affection.

A warmth spread over your shoulders as she embraced you, placing a tender kiss on your cheek before pulling away to look at you.

“How were your travels? Comfortable I hope.”

“Very well.” You replied, shrugging off your coat which Mr. Barrow received, hanging it on a nearby coat rack. “Thank you.”

“That is a delight to hear,” her eyes glimmered with perfect happiness, “Shall I ring for tea?”

“That sounds lovely.”

With the guidance of her outstretched arm you followed her into the sitting room, met by a preoccupied Edith reading over one of her recent columns. She was always your favorite.

Her eyes raised from the paper upon your entrance, widening in excitement as she unhooked her crossed leg.

“Cousin!” She smiled, setting down her paper on the end table and standing. “What a lovely surprise!”

You matched her enthusiasm with a wide smile, stepping towards her to receive her embrace. Her touch was gentle and soft, one that matched her demeanor.

She pulled away after a few seconds, leaving her flowery perfume on your skin as she studied you with glistening eyes. “What on earth brings you here?”

“I thought I would come up for a visit.” You shrugged, “Our parting has been far too long.”

“Yes of course.” She understood with a nod, smiling ear to ear.

“Do sit down girls,” Cora insisted from behind you, prompting the both of you to make yourselves comfortable on the blue embroidered lounge. Cora invited herself to the armchair nearest to you.

The cushions beneath you squeaked as your weight shifted. “Where are the others?” You questioned with knitted brows, taking notice to the emptiness of the usually crowded home.

“Robert has gone for a walk, I imagine he will be back for supper.” Cora started, eyes wandering in thought, “Mary is out with Tom discussing estate matters.”

“Sounds exciting.” You noted in a sarcastic tone, pulling a chuckle from Edith. Analytics was never the most intriguing subject. You preferred to discuss things that mattered. Like Edith does. Like Sybil did.

A soft knock at the door interrupted your chatter.

“Come in.” Cora called.

A plump woman with brunette curls walked in, back to the door with a silver tray of tea cups and a pot in her hand.

“Thank you Mrs. Hughes.” Cora thanked as she sat the items down.

She brushed off her apron, rattling the keys hanging from her pocket. “You’re very welcome your ladyship.” Her cheeks flushed with a smile before exciting the room.

Cora extended a hand out, offering you to be first. You received the offer, reaching forward to serve yourself. The porcelain cup erupted with steam as you steadily poured the beverage into the cup. After sitting the pot down you sifted the tiny spoon through the sugar, spilling two helpings into the liquid and stirring.

“So y/n tell me.. have you any suitors at present?” Edith asked with a cocked brow, reaching for a glass as you raised yours to your lips.

The hot liquid nearly sprayed from your surprised breath. “Goodness Edith aren’t you curious.”

“I’m only asking because it has been ages since I’ve seen you last.” Edith retorted with a playful tone, crossing her leg and bringing her glass to her lap. “And I’ll admit I am quite curious.”

“If you must know,” you started with a breathy laugh, “I have no suitors at present.” You brought your glass to your lips taking in a small sip.

“None?” Cora spoke in surprise, stirring the metal spoon against her glass with raised brows.

You swallowed the drink, letting out a satisfied breath at its warmth. “I’m afraid so. No man seems to catch my eye these days.”

“We’ll see to changing that.” Edith smirked against her glass, receiving from you a warning glare.

Cora’s eyes flicked between the two of you. As she did an idea came to mind, pulling both ends of her mouth into a smile.

——————————————————————————

The atmosphere of your bedroom was still except for the occasional popping of the lit up fireplace, casting an amber glow on the mint green walls.

A reflection of yourself stared back at you through the vanity mirror. You flicked over the image, taking in your appearance. Shiny hair in a pin wave updo, decorated with a gold chain that hung across your forehead. Two dangly earrings hung in a tear shape, framing your angular face. The dress was modest, except for the exposure of your shoulders. A white string of pearls hung around your neck, falling at the waist. The color was a cream white of innocence and purity, detailed with white flowers and charming beads. Glossy red lips curled into a smile as you admired your face, dusted with a tint of blush, giving you a flushed look.

“You’ve done a wonderful job.” You raised a finger to your cheek, observing yourself with wide eyes. “Just lovely.” You turned your head back, thanking the blonde lady’s maid smiling back at you.

“I had an easy canvas to work with your ladyship.” She complimented, reaching for a pair of black satin gloves on the bed.

The comment made your heart flutter. “Oh thank you.” You beamed, extending your hands out for her.

Gently, she pulled them over your hands, stopping at the elbows.

“There.” She noted, returning to her default posture with her hands clasped in front of her. “I think it’s best you head down now. Wouldn't want to be late for supper.”

“Right.” You agreed, standing from the cushioned chair and starting for the door.

The blonde was quick to twist the knob, swinging it open to reveal the vacant hall. She extended a hand out, giving you the lead to exit. The door closed behind you before she parted, pattering down the corridor.

With a confident attitude you started for the red velvet stairs, holding onto the railing as your hand slid with your steps.

The great room was even more beautiful at night, catching your breath as you took it in at the end of the stairs. Candlelight lit up every inch of the room, glistening off crystal vases and floral arrangements.

You got lost in admiration for a moment, before being pulled to the dining room by the steady chatter pouring down the hall.

With an anticipatory inhale you started for the open door, held open by the tall butler from earlier. For a fraction of a second he caught your eye, before your gaze was pulled elsewhere.

With a polite smile you entered the room, greeted with an occupied group. Mary was seated next to a young gentleman, both engrossed in conversation with Robert across from him. Cora was otherwise engaged with Cousin Violet’s commentary at the far end of the table. Edith perked up, patting an open seat next to her, which you received with an affectionate grin, inviting yourself to sit down.

You sighed contently as you made yourself comfortable, habitually smoothing out your dress with your hands.

“Champagne your ladyship?” A youthful masculine voice asked from behind you, causing you to turn your head back. He was a young man with daring blue eyes, complemented with a wave of styled blonde hair. His mouth held a hint of mischief as it curled into a grin, awaiting a response.

“Yes,” Your head perked up. “Thank you.”

His arm reached in front of you, pouring a generous amount of the gold liquid into your glass. Once full, he started making his rounds, circling the table.

As you reached for your glass Edith leaned into your ear, “You look charming tonight y/n.”

To your unawareness, Tom’s eyes broke from Robert and to the young woman across from him. He inhaled softly as he took you in, taken back by your beauty. His eyes painted over your features at careful speed, savoring the work of art you were.

You smiled against the rim of your glass as you took in a savory sip, swallowing the fizzy liquid. “You’ll make me blush! You’re just as lovely.”

You patted her gloved hand with yours, meeting her eyes with a smile.

“Y/n,” Cora started, from across from you, dissolving the current chatter. “I don’t believe you’ve met Tom, our late Sybil’s bo.”

Your eyes shifted to the man next to her, he was handsome. His facial structure was perfectly masculine, characterized by a muscular jaw and prominent brow. His blue green eyes were an enticing hue, glistening with specks of orange in the candlelight. The sight made your stomach flutter.

“Hello,” you acknowledged with a polite smile, hoping the flush spreading to your cheeks wasn’t too obvious.

He nodded back, fixating his eyes on yours before diverting his gaze back to Cora.

“Tom I take it your matters went well today?” She inquired, taking a glass to her lips.

“Indeed.” He perked up, straightening his shoulders. “Mary and I talked to some of the tenant farmers, and they are willing to work for our system.”

“That is wonderful news.” She cooed affectionately, smiling proudly at him and Mary.

A raspy throat clear diverted the attention to Violet. “Shall we save business matters for another time? Perhaps?” Her comment earned an exasperated sigh from Robert next to you.

Tom hid his face from her, appearing to act occupied by straightening his utensils. He looked up through his brows, tugging his lips into a smirk as they met yours. As your heart thumped under his gaze a contagious grin pulled at your mouth, finding it hard to hide your affections.

“We do have a guest, and I’m quite sure she would rather discuss herself.” Violet argued, defending her case.

Your head shook in surprise, diverting your attention to her raised brow. “Myself?”

“Why of course.” She explained in an obvious tone. “We want to hear all about you now don’t we?”

You laughed through your nose. “I’m not quite sure there is much to know.” You defended, taking a fair amount of the alcoholic beverage in your mouth.

“Certainly there is.” Mary interjected, leaning forward in intrigue. “Do tell us about life at home. It has been ages since we’ve seen you last.”

You swallowed the drink, wincing slightly as the fizz stung your throat. “Mama is well, she finds herself occupied in embroidery these days.” Your eyes wandered in thought, “Papa is all business. I don’t see him as much as I used to.”

Mary hummed.

“What is it that interests you my dear?” The dowager wondered, eyes curiously studying you.

You took in a breath, uncomfortable with being the attention of the party. “Writing,” Edith’s eyes lit up at your response. “Is an art that I find myself very content with.”

“How marvelous.” Cora complimented as the footmen came round with trays of food.

“Indeed.” Edith agreed heartily, taking a content sip of champagne.

——————————————————————————

“What do ya think of the new visitor?” Jimmy inquired with a smirk, nudging into Thomas' elbow as supper wrapped up.

The butler swallowed a bite of his food, restraining his true feelings. “She seems kind.” He muttered back, keeping his tone at an appropriate volume.

“Kind? Who cares about kind?” Jimmy scoffed, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “I’d love to get my hands on her.” He murmured lowly in a lustful tone.

A jealous knot turned in Thomas’ stomach at his comment. He fisted another spoonful food, turning his knuckles white.

“You’re best off keeping that to yourself mate. There’s no chance of that happening.” He retorted in a cold tone, rendering Jimmy silent.

A startling throat clear echoed from the end of the table, gathering the attention of those seated. “Mr. Barrow, do you have something you wish to share with the rest of us?” Mr. Carson asked with a raised brow.

He swallowed thickly, diverting his gaze to his hands. “No-no sir.”

“Then I suggest you keep your words at civilized volume.” He scolded, making Thomas shrink into himself.

Mr. Carson took a heavy breath, sensing the tension. “That’s it then, supper is dismissed.”

The staff rose upon his announcement, making haste to clear the dining hall. Thomas and Jimmy were the last to go.

Jimmy stood first, before being caught by Thomas’ hand. He squeezed tightly, making him wince.

“I meant what I said. Stay out of it if you know what’s good for you.” Thomas whispered in a threatening tone, releasing him with a shove once satisfied.

Thomas’s eyes followed a disheveled Jimmy as he huffed out of the room. His jaw clenched in jealousy, recounting the earlier comment.

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To be continued!

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