CARSON: Very good, m’lady.
He goes. Edith looks at the others.
EDITH: Let’s pray Granny bends the vicar to her will.
* For this announcement we had to fix what Richard Carlisle’s background was, and we decided he should come from the aspirant middle class, where he would have absorbed their work ethic. I originally put his parents into Bryanston Square, in London, but Iain Glen is clearly Scottish, and why would they have come south? Carlisle wasn’t Scottish in the original script, hence Bryanston Square, but once Iain had been cast, then it became Morningside, in Edinburgh, which seemed about right.
51 EXT. DOWER HOUSE. DAY.
A vicar in late middle age approaches the steps.
52 INT. DRAWING ROOM. DOWER HOUSE. DAY.
Violet and her visitor are enjoying a cup of coffee.
VIOLET: I seem to remember reading somewhere that God is love.
THE REVEREND MR TRAVIS: God may be love, Lady Grantham, but love does not conquer all. The Church has its rules and we neglect them at our peril.
VIOLET: Surely the Church is sturdier than that? Rock in Strength Upon a Rock?*
THE REVEREND MR TRAVIS: That’s all very well. But this boy is in extremis. How can we know that these are his true wishes? Maybe the kitchen maid somehow hopes to catch at an advantage?
VIOLET: And what advantage would that be?
THE REVEREND MR TRAVIS: I don’t know. Some widow’s dole given by a grateful nation?
VIOLET: Mr Travis, can I remind you William Mason has served our family well. At the last he saved the life, if not the health, of my son’s heir. Now he wishes, before he dies, to marry his sweetheart.
THE REVEREND MR TRAVIS: Yes, but —
VIOLET: You cannot imagine that we would allow you to prevent this happening in case his widow claimed her dole.
THE REVEREND MR TRAVIS: No, but —
VIOLET: I have had an interest in this boy. I tried and failed to save him from conscription, but I will certainly attend his wedding. Is that an argument in its favour?
THE REVEREND MR TRAVIS: Of course, but —
VIOLET: Finally, I would point out your living is in Lord Grantham’s gift, your house is on Lord Grantham’s land and the very flowers in your church are from Lord Grantham’s garden. I hope it is not vulgar in me to suggest that you find some way to overcome your scruples.
Even the Reverend Mr Travis knows when he is beaten.*
* This is a line from a hymn, which is a favourite of mine. ‘Who Is She Who Stands Triumphant?’ And the second line is ‘Rock in Strength, Upon a Rock’. The eponymous ‘She’ of the title is, of course, the Christian Church. I remember singing it during a camping holiday in France when three of us were jammed into a small army surplus tent. We had been hit by a tremendous thunderstorm and had, literally, to hold onto the tent poles to stop the whole thing from blowing away. We sang the hymn, very loudly, to keep our spirits up, and we did survive, even though we were drenched to the skin.
* Michael Cochrane, who plays Travis, is a marvellous actor, but he never really has enough to do in Downton. On the other hand, the Reverend Mr Travis pops up every so often, so I hope that, even though he’s better than the part, it pays the VAT and gives him the odd nice day out in Oxfordshire. It means a lot to us that, when Travis is going to have another wigging from Maggie Smith or perform some service reluctantly for the family, Michael is more than equal to the task. Travis has to deal with the Crawleys because his living, like many livings then, would have been controlled by the Lord Grantham of the day, which our generation would probably find rather inappropriate. In fact, there are still livings that are allotted, even if these days they’re in the minority, and most families have made theirs over to the Church to deal with. But under the ancien régime, people like Violet were usually untroubled by the responsibility. They accepted the role God had given them, and they thought they were the right people to do it. So, telling this Minister of the Lord what his moral duty is doesn’t trouble her one bit.
53 INT. ETHEL’S COTTAGE. DAY.
Mrs Hughes attempts to comfort the crying woman.
MRS HUGHES: But you can’t have expected much more? Not when those letters all went unanswered.
ETHEL: I don’t know what I expected, but you can’t help hoping.
MRS HUGHES: Have you found any work?
ETHEL: A bit of scrubbing. There aren’t many places I can take the baby.
MRS HUGHES: What do you tell them?
ETHEL: That my husband died at the front.
MRS HUGHES: It’s funny. We have a new maid, Jane, who really is a war widow, with a child, and we respect her for it. But then, we believe her story.
Which doesn’t make things any better for Ethel.
54 INT. SIR RICHARD CARLISLE’S OFFICE. LONDON. DAY.
Vera is in a fury. She flourishes a newspaper.
SECRETARY: Mrs Bates, I really must insist —
VERA: You tricked me! Well? Aren’t you going to deny it?
CARLISLE: Certainly not. I tricked you to protect my fiancée’s good name.
VERA: That’s one word for her. I can think of a few others.
CARLISLE: You’d better not speak them aloud if you know what’s good for you.
VERA: I don’t want your money! I don’t want that contract!
CARLISLE: It’s too late for that. And I warn you: if I so much as read her name in anything but the Court Circular, I shall hound you and ruin you and have you locked up! Is that clear?
This man is terrifying and even Vera is cowed.
VERA: It doesn’t end here, you know. Not for John Bates. Lady Mary might have got away, what do I care? But he won’t. You tell him. If I go down, I’m taking him with me!
CARLISLE: That’s entirely your own affair.
She stares at him for a furious moment, then storms out. He smiles and picks up the telephone on his desk.
CARLISLE (CONT’D): Find Lady Mary Crawley for me.*
* In drama, people must have reasons for doing what they do. Now, that’s not true of everything one does in real life – sometimes there is no cogent reason for our behaviour, particularly when we look back on episodes in our youth – but drama requires a logic not always supplied by truth. It felt believable to me that Vera would abandon her attempts to ruin Mary once Carlisle had made it clear that, if she tried, she would ruin herself into the bargain. She doesn’t, after all, care about Mary. The only person she wants to see smashed in pieces is Bates.
55 INT. SMALL LIBRARY. DOWNTON. DAY.
Robert is working when the door opens and Jane Moorsum comes in backwards, carrying two cleaning boxes.
JANE: Where do we start?
ROBERT: You tell me.
She spins round and stares at him in horror.
JANE: Oh, your lordship, I — I do apologise. I thought Mrs Hughes said we were to clean in here.
ROBERT: You must be the new maid.
JANE: I am. Jane. And it’s very kind of you and her ladyship to take me on.
ROBERT: Not a bit. We all owe your late husband a great debt.
JANE: Thank you.
This response has taken her by surprise and her eyes fill. Mrs Hughes appears in the doorway.
MRS HUGHES: M’lord, there’s a telephone call — Jane? Whatever are you doing? You’re wanted in the drawing room, not the library, to clean it while the men are out of it.
Jane leaves, taking the cleaning boxes.*
MRS HUGHES (CONT’D): She’s very willing, but she’s not quite there yet. I am sorry.
ROBERT: Oh, don’t be. What about that call?
Without his knowing it, his eyes follow the retreating maid.
MRS HUGHES: For Lady Mary. They’re waiting now.
ROBERT: You might just catch her if you hurry. She’s on her way to the hospital.
The housekeeper starts to move.
ROBERT (CONT’D): What about the melancholy wedding? I gather it’s settled.
MRS HUGHES: I
t is. We’re holding it at four.
* I like the way that Mrs Hughes’s reactions and thoughts are complicated. She’s not a worshipper of the Granthams or the aristocratic system, as we’ve said before, but nevertheless she is quite a disciplinarian, and she doesn’t like to walk in and find Jane, the housemaid, chatting to Robert. This isn’t because a maid shouldn’t talk to a Lord, it’s not that; it’s much more that this is not how a proper house is run, which Jane ought to know.
56 INT. HALL. DOWNTON. DAY.
Mary is just leaving when her mother appears.
CORA: Are you off to the hospital, dear?
MARY: I am.
CORA: I just wondered if you had any success in London…?
MARY: The announcement should have told you that I did. Richard would never be willing to weather a scandal.
CORA: So the story’s gone away? We won’t hear any more of it?
MARY: That would be a bold prediction, Mama, but I think it’s gone away for the time being, yes.
CORA: Thank the Lord.
57 INT. SERVANTS’ HALL. DOWNTON. DAY.
Daisy is dressed in her best, but miserable. Carson comes in with a beautiful little posy of flowers.
CARSON: His lordship asked Mr Bassett to bring these in for you.
ANNA: Oh, how lovely. Here, Daisy, sit down.
She takes a couple of small blooms out and starts to arrange them in Daisy’s hair. Mrs Patmore comes in, also in her best.
DAISY: I shouldn’t be doing this. It’s just a lie. You know it is.
MRS PATMORE: You’re doing it out of the goodness of your heart.
DAISY: The falseness of my heart, more like.
At the other end, Thomas is whispering with O’Brien.
O’BRIEN: She’s not quite the blooming bride.
THOMAS: I don’t think it’s the same when you’re marrying a corpse.
O’BRIEN: Are you going?
THOMAS: Why not? I wouldn’t mind shaking William’s hand before he goes.
O’BRIEN: Is that sentiment or superstition, in case he haunts you?
Anna pulls Daisy to her feet again as Mrs Hughes comes in.
MRS HUGHES: You look lovely, dear. Just to say the vicar is ready for us.
CARSON: Let’s go up, then.
Daisy takes Carson’s arm like a daughter, leading the way out.
58 INT. MONTAGE. THE WEDDING. DOWNTON. DAY.*
Mr Travis conducts the ceremony as the camera drifts over the faces.
THE REVEREND MR TRAVIS: Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God and to the face of this congregation to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony, which is an honourable estate instituted of God in the time of man’s innocency, signifying unto us the mystical union…
The servants, Violet, Edith… Some of them, including Carson, are in tears; some just pray. William looks at Daisy.
THE REVEREND MR TRAVIS: …If any man can show any just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak or else hereafter forever hold his peace. Have you the ring?
William’s father hands over the ring and William places it on Daisy’s finger. At the back, Violet, as straight as a ramrod, sits with Edith. Violet dabs her eyes discreetly. But when Edith squeezes her arm in sympathy, she whispers back:
VIOLET: I have a cold.*
THE REVEREND MR TRAVIS: You may now kiss the bride.
William is too weak to lift his head from the pillow. Daisy bends to kiss him. He manages a feeble signature. Blessings are made.
* I didn’t agree with the bed being covered in flowers – I felt it was sentimental, because it was a death bed as well as a wedding. But nobody else has ever objected, so I suspect I may be wrong about this. Certainly they all played the scene very well.
* This moment was inspired by two stories of similar behaviour; one came from a cousin of Emma’s, Simon Toynbee, who went to a funeral of someone he was very fond of and when he came out he was snuffling a bit, and he had a tear running down his cheek. His aunt, who was Emma’s rather terrifying grandmother, Lady Broome, took one look at him, opened her handbag and brought out a handkerchief, saying, ‘Here you are. I assume you have a cold.’ When I heard the story, I thought at once that I would use it. The English upper classes have never festooned themselves with public emotion and, in those days even more than now, crying at a funeral was considered definitively middle class.
59 INT. HOSPITAL. DOWNTON VILLAGE. NIGHT.
Mary is with Matthew.
MATTHEW: She’s better off in London.
MARY: If you say so.
MATTHEW: Do you know why I sent her away? The disgusting details as well as the pathetic ones?
MARY: I think so.
MATTHEW: Then you’ll know I couldn’t marry her. Not now. I couldn’t marry any woman. I’d feel like a murderer.
MARY: And if they should just want to be with you? On any terms?
MATTHEW: No one sane would want to be with me as I am now. Including me… Oh God, I think I’m going to be sick.
MARY: Don’t worry.
Mary seizes a bowl from the table nearby; as he throws up, she strokes the back of his head gently.
MARY (CONT’D): It’s all right. It’s perfectly all right.
MATTHEW: I think that’s it.
He leans back as Mary wipes his mouth. He laughs.
MARY: What is it?
MATTHEW: I was just thinking. It seems such a short time ago since I turned you down. And now look at me. An impotent cripple, stinking of sick. What a reversal. You have to admit it’s quite funny.*
There is a slight movement across the ward. Isobel, in travelling clothes, is standing in the shadows, watching.
MARY: All I’ll admit is that you’re here, and you’ve survived the war. That’s enough for now.
With a smile, she carries the bowl away. On the other side of the room, she encounters Isobel.
MARY (CONT’D): You’re back. That is good news. He’ll be so pleased.
ISOBEL: You’ve become quite a nurse since I last saw you.
MARY: Oh, no. It’s nothing. Sybil’s the nurse in this family.
She walks on as Isobel looks after her.
ISOBEL: It is the very opposite of nothing.
Then she goes towards Matthew’s bed. He looks up.
MATTHEW: Mother? Is that you?
* Matthew’s being sick was shot from behind and, when I looked at it, I was afraid we’d rather missed a trick. Originally, I had wanted the image to be much more, in modern parlance, in your face. This was really because I’m always interested in how, when people you love are very ill, all sorts of things become possible for you that in the normal way of things would be completely impossible. You can perform the most extraordinary, intimate and even disgusting tasks without really thinking about it. That is the power of love. I wanted Matthew’s vomiting to be revolting, so that he would be ashamed, while Mary couldn’t care less. Perhaps the director was afraid that the viewers might have been put off their pudding. And indeed they might have been. But anyway, that was supposed to be the message of the scene: the power of love.
60 INT. STAIRCASE AND GALLERY. DOWNTON. NIGHT.
Mary climbs the stairs wearily. As she reaches the landing, she sees Bates come out of Robert’s dressing room.
MARY: Bates, what’s happened? How’s William?
BATES: He’s nearly there, m’lady.
MARY: I’m so sorry.
She turns away, but then remembers.
MARY (CONT’D): Actually, Bates, I’m glad I’ve caught you. Sir Richard Carlisle telephoned me earlier. He says he’s paid Mrs Bates for her story. She cannot speak of it now without risking prison.
BATES: She won’t do that.
MARY: So I hope we can all forget it.
BATES: It’s forgotten already, m’lady.
MARY: Thank you…
She hesitates.
MARY (CONT’D): I’m afraid she was very angry when she kne
w she had been silenced.
BATES: I can imagine.
MARY: He says she made threats against you. ‘If I go down, I’ll take him with me.’ That sort of thing. I’m sure she didn’t mean it.
BATES: Are you, m’lady?
MARY: Well, you’d know better than I. Goodnight Bates.
As she goes, a door opens and Anna appears with a tray.
ANNA: Lady Mary’s back.
BATES: I’ve just seen her. She says it’s worked. Sir Richard has put a gag on Vera.
ANNA: Thank God. So everything in our garden is rosy again?
BATES: I hope so. I certainly hope so.
But he does not believe it. As they go their separate ways, Mrs Patmore enters the passage and heads for William’s room.
61 INT. WILLIAM’S ROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.
Inside, Daisy sits on one side of the bed, holding William’s hand, while Mr Mason is on the other. Mrs Patmore comes in.
MRS PATMORE: You must be so tired, my lamb. Why not let me take over for a while and go and lie down?
DAISY: No, thank you, Mrs Patmore. I’ll stay with him. I won’t leave him now. Not while he needs me.
But as she turns back to the face on the pillow, Mason speaks quite gently.
MASON: He doesn’t need you no more, Daisy. He doesn’t need none of us no more.
It is true. William is dead.
END OF EPISODE FIVE
ACT ONE*
1 EXT. DOWNTON. DAY.
1918. Mary is pushing Matthew along the terrace in a wheelchair.
MARY: I shall have muscles like Jack Johnson if I’m not careful.†
MATTHEW: I’m strong enough to wheel myself.
MARY: I’ll be the judge of that.
She rests for a moment and Matthew looks round.
MATTHEW: I keep thinking of William. How he should be here. Not exactly instead of me, but… sacrifice should be rewarded. He was the brave one.
MARY: You were both brave. And I don’t think we can say ‘should’ about things that happen in war. It just happens, and we should live with it.
* For this episode, we have a slight time jump. We don’t have any ruling as to how much time has passed between episodes, or between series, for that matter. We do what we like, to be honest. We might, for example, begin a series four or six months later, so we can avoid funerals, and the initial stages of getting over someone’s death. I say this because I always feel it is after about six months that you start getting back into gear. We return to this topic at a later date.
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