Hilarious -- read an "American guide" to the British series Downton Abbey, to be shown on PBS





Need for speed: PBS presents Downton... but just a bit faster

Need for speed: PBS presents Downton... but just a bit faster



No, my dear old popcorn guzzlers, the butler's pantry isn't where he keeps his trousers

A guide for American viewers, by Julian Jolley-Goodfellowes*



Good evening. I am Julian Jolley-Goodfellowes. I am here to guide you American viewers, smilingly and patronisingly, through the intricacies of aristocratic life portrayed in Downton Abbey, for any popcorn guzzlers who think the butler's pantry is where he keeps his trousers.


  • Each day in a stately home began not merely with servants grate-cleaning, stove-blacking and bed-making - but also, crucially, with SCOLDING. 'Hurry up with that fire, girl, before one of the ladyships sees you!' 'I thought I told you to take that kedgeree upstairs?' 'How dare you sit upon Lady Edith's counterpane!' A head housemaid such as Mrs Hughes would have been hired solely on the basis of her scolding technique.


  • It was traditional for the eldest daughter to exclaim daily: 'He's the most hideous bore, he's about 100, and you want me to marry him, and I simply shan't!' When male dinner guests were not middle-aged bores, they were improbably good-looking Turkish emissaries who tended to die most indelicately in the eldest daughter's bedchamber. This would result in the daughter's wail: 'I shall be ruined, Mama!'


  • It was important cooks be old and permanently on the edge of hysteria - especially when presented with fancy new pudding recipes.


  • The role of a Dowager Countess is to disapprove of everything, expressing her views with disbelief and bulging eyes, eg: 'Manchester?' 'What, pray, is a "weekend"?' 'A job?'


  • It was customary every few days for a young aristocrat or blundering middle-class gentleman to inadvertently mock a servant. 'I say, William, all that polishing and serving drinks, what a perfectly ludicrous job.' At this, it is traditional for the servant to flinch, look downwards, eyes sorrowful, and mumble: 'Yes, sir... though it has made my family very proud.' The closing stages of this ritual should then involve the gentleman making a stammering response. 'I say, I, er, I'm most awfully sorry, I didn't mean to...'


  • All the very smartest stately homes employed at least one sinister young footman, with a penchant for blackmail and theft. Indeed, this is how the job was advertised at the time: 'Position Vacant: Malevolent footman. Must have ideas above station. Would suit "troubled soul".'


  • The primary function of back stairs were not the transport of meals, but as a forum for malicious gossip and plotting.


  • It was customary for butlers to have a shaming element from their past suddenly reappear and shatter their dignity. 'Ere, Carson, remember me? Your old music hall partner? From 1904? It's me! Brucie Forsyth!' Following this revelation, the butler is expected to tender his resignation to his master. The aristocrat would be expected to feign shock, but to twitch his lips signifying secret, heart-warming amusement, thus confirming that the aristocracy are all simply marvellous.


  • Aristocrats often had an uncanny sense of precognition. 'Oh look, Dowager Countess, let's do try to be friends. After all, it's 1912 and there could be a First World War in two years' time.'


  • Villagers would not have dreamed of saying a word, even to each other, without being spoken to by His Lordship first. And even then, their responses would have been limited to a terse 'Thank you, my Lord' and a sob of 'Oh, Your Ladyship, thank you!'


  • It was traditional for young female aristocrats to reveal private details while sitting at a mirror, as their maids stood behind, rearranging their hair. Particularly prized were maids who could master the phrase: 'It's not my place to say, your Ladyship.'


  • The phrase from a butler that would have filled an aristocrat with the most dread was: 'May I speak freely, sir?'


  • Occasionally, aristocrats would use joltingly anachronistic terms, such as Cora calling her daughter 'damaged goods', going on to add: 'She's a total mare, do you get me? Do you? Do you, though?' Nor was it unusual for some homes in a village such as Downton in 1912 to have uPVC window frames.

* As told to Sinclair McKay




Read all of the article HERE




 

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