TONY SELLICK
James Cartwright
Tony Sellick, the plumber, makes quite an impression on Daisy. His energy and ambition – not to mention his film-star looks – are captivating, and he certainly rocks the boat when he arrives at Downton Abbey to fix the boiler. Like Daisy, Mr Sellick is determined to make something of his life and poor Andy feels he suffers by comparison.
James Cartwright, who plays the role, agrees: ‘Tony Sellick represents that emerging working-class mentality. He’s building up his business and wants to be his own boss, and Daisy admires his get-up-and-go.’ Andy, of course, secretly sabotages the new pump Mr Sellick installs. ‘But it has the reverse effect,’ laughs James, ‘as it means I have to come back to Downton!’
James loved every minute of filming Downton Abbey and found coming on to the set at Shepperton a wonderful, if surreal, experience: ‘The set for the kitchen and all the downstairs areas is incredible. It’s so real looking that it’s not a huge leap of imagination to believe you’re actually there in 1927.’
James admits he hit the gym prior to taking the role, just in case he was asked to take his shirt off during filming, although he soon learned that that would not have been the done thing at Downton Abbey! Regardless, Mr Sellick certainly makes his presence felt and James was simply thrilled to be part of the whole Downton experience, just sitting in the kitchen, enjoying a cup of tea (black, no sugar) while Mrs Patmore told him he’d done a good job with the boiler. ‘It really was like being transported back in time!’
Working Women
Office workers with mechanical calculators, 1929.
Women packing Rowntree’s Cocoa, York, 1929.
A Lancashire spinning shed, 1926.
For women like Daisy, life was very different to those led by the upper classes. However, with a little education under her belt, she has the increasing confidence to question accepted values in society and dreams of a better life for herself outside service. The generation before her would probably have been only too glad to have had such a good position in a house, but with improving literacy rates and wider access to popular culture, even those living in a rural outpost of Yorkshire could see that modern life could offer more independence and excitement than their parents had experienced.
Many women were keen to work in offices, factories or shops rather than the rigidly controlled environment of service. Despite this, servants were the largest occupational group in 1927 and in 1931 there were still some 1.4 million indoor domestic servants, 1.2 million of whom were women. Nonetheless, domestic service had lost some of its sheen of respectability, and deference to one’s employers had also begun to erode in the 1920s with servants increasingly viewing their work as a job rather than a life-long calling.
MR MOLESLEY and MISS BAXTER
Kevin Doyle
Raquel Cassidy
News of the imminent arrival of the King and Queen sends Mr Molesley into a feverish spin of anticipation. Now a teacher at the village school, on hearing of the royal visit he wastes no time in rushing back to Downton Abbey to ask whether he might be allowed to ‘slip on my livery again’. To be in the presence of the royal couple is for the former footman an incredible honour, and he can barely contain his excitement. The event also gives him an opportunity to see Cora’s lady’s maid Miss Baxter, the two having developed a close bond over the years.
As a character who’s always had respect for authority and status, it seems fitting that Molesley should be back at Downton Abbey, now that the very pinnacles of society are within its walls. Such is his fervour, though, that no one has the heart to tell him that the royal servants are to do the waiting … until the Downton servants decide to take matters into their own hands.
When Miss Baxter first learns of the royal visit, she is excited too but, unlike Molesley, keeps her composure. ‘She’s not running down the corridors screaming or anything,’ says Raquel Cassidy, who plays her, ‘but she’s excited, in a very Baxter way!’ Miss Baxter has something of a chequered past and is thus grateful for her job and will do all she can to keep it. Nonetheless, she does go along with the rebellion in the servants’ quarters, as Raquel explains: ‘She’s seen the build-up of slights from the royal servants, knows that that’s not the way to behave and her sense of justice is piqued. She’d never lead this revolution – her whole livelihood depends on her job – but she’s definitely up for it.’
Molesley: ‘Do you think I might be allowed to slip on my livery again?’
Kevin Doyle, who plays Mr Molesley, was delighted to feature in the movie and he captured the awkward humour of his character to perfection. A key scene for Molesley is the evening dinner party, which he treats like a theatrical performance, worrying that he’ll forget his ‘lines’ before they head upstairs. While serving, Molesley commits an atrocious faux pas by addressing the King directly, which immediately silences the room. When he recognises what he has done, Molesley is almost paralysed with humiliation, performing a cringing bow crossed with a curtsey as he backs away from the table.
Molesley: ‘I know I’ll forget my lines.’
Baxter: ‘You haven’t got any lines!’
Anna: ‘You’re on. And Mr Molesley, remember to breathe!’
Kevin Doyle had earmarked the filming of that scene as an important day in his diary. ‘There was a lot of anticipation about that scene and I knew I had to get it right. In fact, filming it was probably one of the scariest moments of my career!’ he remembers. ‘I had to make a complete idiot of myself in front of the likes of Maggie Smith [Violet], which I’ve obviously done before in the television series, but this was on a much grander scale and magnitude!’
The scene required Kevin to show the poor footman’s dawning apprehension of his error: ‘Molesley’s glee turns to abject horror when he realises what a complete fool he’s made of himself. The whole scene was set up brilliantly and I just focused on not messing it up.’
Once the dust has settled after the royal visit, Mr Molesley has a quiet chat with Miss Baxter and confides in her that he clearly made a fool of himself, to which she replies that, to her, he ‘could never be a fool’. It’s a subtle suggestion of something more between them. Both actors were aware that some Downton Abbey fans were keen for something to develop between the two characters, who have often supported each other through difficult times. But as Kevin reminds us: ‘These are two people who have been hurt in the past and so if anything were to happen between them, they would be cautious and take slow steps.’
The wardrobe department did a lot of research into the state liveries worn by the servants at great houses. State livery differed from house to house and was worn at formal occasions in the presence of esteemed guests, the King and Queen being the most esteemed of all. For the Downton livery, the team used the beautiful Downton green colour for the wool tailcoats, with silver braiding, and then extra detail of lacing on the cuffs, pockets and front breast and waistcoats. The royal household servants would have looked very splendid in their scarlet livery, which juxtaposed well with the green worn by the Downton staff. Both are worn with white breeches and white silk stockings. The only exceptions to this are Carson and Wilson, who are in black breeches and black stockings, matching the attire of the gentlemen.
Dancing Partners
The Prince of Wales surrounded by women at a film premiere in 1932.
In Molesley’s excitement over the royal visit, he waltzes Mrs Patmore around Mr Bakewell’s shop, singing a popular tune from the period, the chorus of which includes the line: ‘I’ve danced with a man who’s danced with a girl who’s danced with the Prince of Wales.’
The Prince of Wales referred to here was King George’s eldest son, the future King Edward VIII, who was the subject of breathless admiration in the 1920s. The fashion editor Diana Vreeland described him as ‘the Golden Prince … To be a woman of my generation in London – any woman – was to be in love with the Prince of Wales.’ One of the most eligible bachelors in the world, women
clamoured to dance with him, and those who had could become famous overnight. In the US, the term ‘dancing partner’ became a euphemism for his mistresses and a parody guide to etiquette joked that all high-society wedding parties should have at least one bridesmaid who had danced twice with the Prince.
In the song, the girl who danced with the Prince refers to Edna Deane, a world-champion ballroom dancer at the time (Fred Astaire described her in 1929 as ‘authentic poetry in motion’). At a ball in the 1920s, the Prince was so entranced by Edna that he is said to have asked her to dance nine times. The incident inspired the songwriter Herbert Farjeon to pen the popular song.
I’ve danced with a man who’s danced with a girl who’s danced with the Prince of Wales.
It was simply grand, he said, ‘Topping band,’ and she said, ‘Delightful, Sir.’
Glory, Glory, Alleluia! I’m the luckiest of females;
For I’ve danced with a man who’s danced with a girl who’s danced with the Prince of Wales.
My word I’ve had a party, my word I’ve had a spree.
Believe me or believe me not, it’s all the same to me!
I’m wild with exultation, I’m dizzy with success,
For I’ve danced with a man I’ve danced with a man who –
Well, you’ll never guess!
I’ve danced with a man who’s danced with a girl who’s danced with the Prince of Wales.
I’m crazy with excitement, completely off the rails,
And when he said to me what she said to him – the Prince remarked to her
It was simply grand, he said, ‘Topping band,’ and she said, ‘Delightful, Sir.’
Glory, Glory, Alleluia! I’m the luckiest of females;
For I’ve danced with a man who’s danced with a girl who’s danced with the Prince of Wales.
Behind the Scenes
A STEP BACK IN TIME
Chetwode: ‘The papers tell me the King and Queen will be staying at Downton Abbey during their tour of Yorkshire.’
Branson: ‘Well, if it’s in the papers, it must be true.’
Scenes featuring Mr Bakewell’s shop and Tom and Henry’s car showroom were filmed at the open air museum of Beamish, in County Durham.
Location manager Sparky Ellis explains: ‘We filmed there for the television series so it was great to be back to recreate York, where Tom and Henry’s car showroom is based.’ For the showroom itself the film used the Beamish Motor & Cycle Works, which was built in the early 1990s as a replica of a typical garage in the early years of the twentieth century.
Beamish supplied a variety of motor and horse-drawn vehicles, as well as a bus and two trams, which ran in York between 1910 and 1935. We see two open-topped tramcars, the Newcastle 114, which has wooden seats inside for fifty-three passengers, and the Blackpool 31, originally built in 1901. The bus is a 1928 Northern SOS bus, which was painstakingly restored by the Friends of Beamish. As Sparky explains, ‘We were keen to get the hustle and bustle of a busy street scene and block-booked various trams and vehicles so they would be running on time for us. We really wanted to go the extra mile for the film and fill that big screen.
For Mr Bakewell’s shop, which is in the village of Downton, the crew turned their cameras away from the busy street outside to show the grocer excitedly serving Mrs Patmore and Daisy in the authentic interior, which even includes a brass till made by the National Manufacturing Company of Dayton, Ohio – the company who produced the first cash register in 1879.
‘When we shot at Beamish,’ recalls Sparky, ‘the museum was still open to the public, although I think the visitors were quite excited to see the Downton Abbey crew filming there.’
MR BAKEWELL
Mark Addy
Village grocer Mr Bakewell is thrilled at the prospect of providing for the King and Queen. In practical terms, this means a large and costly order from Downton Abbey and, as suppliers to royalty, a special prestige that money can’t buy. Although he only appeared in one scene, new cast member Mark Addy made a good impression with his fellow actors, in particular Lesley Nicol (Mrs Patmore), who remarked: ‘Mark just seemed to get better and better with every take.’
When Mrs Patmore and Daisy head to the village to see Mr Bakewell, they are left in no doubt over the shopkeeper’s enthusiasm about the royal visit. ‘My heart is fit to burst, I don’t mind telling you. I shall have fed the King Emperor from my own shop. If only my father were alive. He’d be so proud of me.’ With an excitable Mr Molesley singing and dancing around them, Mr Bakewell adds, ‘This is the peak of my career. Well, the peak of my life, really.’
In the face of such jubilation, it’s no surprise that Mrs Patmore struggles to break it to him that they won’t be cooking for the King and Queen. Fortunately, Daisy overrules Mrs Patmore and insists they keep the news to themselves, to avoid ‘ruining Mr Bakewell’s year’. At the house, Daisy then secretly takes in the order of food and hides it in a cupboard, which is just as well as all of it will eventually be used when the Downton staff stage their revolution. Thankfully, Mr Bakewell is none the wiser and we sense that he’ll bask in the glory of being a supplier to royalty for many years to come.
The Royal Household
A vast retinue of servants and staff accompanied the royal family wherever they went. In the movie, we learn that teams of royal servants would arrive ahead of the King and Queen, then leave to return to them or to prepare the next location, in a military-style operation that swept all before it.
As the Downton staff look on bewildered, Mr Wilson attempts to explain how this system works: when the royal couple is on the move, there are two of each servant – two valets, two dressers, two chefs, even two groups of four footmen – with one group staying with the King and Queen while the second group goes ahead to prepare for their arrival.
In the movie, the servants shuttle between Raby Castle, a little further north in County Durham and the next destinations on the royal tour: Downton Abbey and Harewood House. They ensure that the ground is fully prepared, that every need of the royal couple is catered for, while Their Majesties bring along with them an equerry, a lady-in-waiting, two detectives and a chauffeur.
The complex relay system of servants is a true reflection of royal procedure, and one that was well rehearsed over the many tours and trips away. When Queen Mary stayed at Holker Hall in Cumbria, in 1937, it is recorded that she brought with her two dressers, one footman, a page, two chauffeurs, a lady-in-waiting, a maid for the lady-in-waiting and a detective.
Her list of requirements were sent ahead to the house: a chair to be placed outside her room for a page to sit on, fresh barley water placed in her room every two hours, and she brought with her her own bed linen.
It has been said that when the real Queen Mary visited great houses she would often spot items – such as a china plate or item of silver – that she liked and hint to the owner that she would like it ‘as a gift’. They in turn would feel obliged to give it to her, and she would add it to the Royal Collection.
The Queen’s demands could be viewed as fairly modest when one considers that at their own royal households there were hundreds of servants, from valets, maids, footmen, cooks and cleaners to the more senior staff of equerries, ladies-in-waiting, secretaries, clerks and minor officials. (In the Georgian royal household, there were around 950 royal servants, organised into a web of departments, from the Pages of the Backstairs and dressers to rat-catchers and ‘necessary women’, who emptied the chamber pots and swept the floors.)
Below stairs the order of precedent for visiting servants was just as intricate – a servant ranked on the same scale as his master or mistress and his or her place sitting at the servants’ table was arranged accordingly. In the movie, the King and Queen’s servants deem themselves so superior to the Downton staff that they are frankly appalled that they must even sit at the same table as them.
Jobs in the royal household were much sought after, not only because of their prestige but also because royal s
ervants generally lived in good accommodation and were well fed. Nonetheless, the pay wasn’t necessarily high and the royal court could be a fairly cut-throat environment with a myriad of rules to master. During George V’s (and his son’s) reign, Derek Keppel was Master of the Household at Buckingham Palace and his job was to oversee these legions of staff. For much of George V’s reign, the royal chef was Frenchman Henri Cedard, who drew up menus that were approved on a daily basis by the King and Queen. The King himself was an absolute stickler for rules and routine, and lived many of his days to a set sequence of events, retiring to his bed each night at 11.10 p.m. precisely. As his son, the future Edward VIII, recalled: ‘My father’s life was a masterpiece in the art of well-ordered, unostentatious, elegant living.’ From shooting lunches under canvas to lavish banquets at Buckingham Palace, every detail was perfectly managed and formality was everything.
On the move, the King also expected everything to run like clockwork, cars to be waiting for him and bands to be playing the right tune, and the only way to achieve this, as a former courtier once explained to Edward VIII, was to have ‘the equivalent of a man and a half for every job’.
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