A Year in the Life of Downton Abbey: Seasonal Celebrations, Traditions, and Recipes (10 page)

MARY
‘I love the view from up here.’

BRANSON
‘If you know the view, all the better. Follow that hedge, to the left of it is Oakwood Farm, to the right is all farmed by us.

Rt. Hon. David Lloyd George, Prime Minister 1916–1922

But as the nineteenth century turned, so did the tide against the landowners. Land, having been considered the safest and most prestigious investment of all, turned out not to be so. There were agricultural depressions, the constant threat of cheaper imports and ever-increasing taxation. Still, up to a point, these things could be borne by the aristocracy.

In the years immediately after the war, there was a certain air of prosperity and many tenants bought the farm they had previously rented. This created a new breed of owner-occupiers, which shifted the landscape agriculturally, economically and politically, coming as they did at the same time as changes in the mechanisation of farming, a dramatic reduction in government subsidies and the growth of motorcar ownership.

The demise of the power of the landed gentry meant that politicians lost interest in agriculture, particularly if it meant maintaining the old patrician order. In 1920, Lloyd George introduced a new zero per cent capital gains tax on land sales, which encouraged owners to reduce their estates by converting a highly taxable income into a tax-free sale. This was surely a deliberate move by the prime minister to break up the estates. The point is that all these great estates had been borne out of a pre-taxation era: if you had land, you could live off it by renting it out or farming it, or both, with no taxes to pay. The introduction of taxation was not just a heavy burden – it was their ultimate destruction. By 1922, a quarter of all agricultural land had been sold. Nor was it all kept as farmland – in 1918 there were twelve million acres under cultivation; by 1926, this had fallen to nine million.

ROBERT:
‘You do realise we can sell land as a capital gain and pay no tax on it at all?’

MARY:
‘And end up with an estate that can’t support the house.’

So great estates were broken up, country houses were sold off and the newly formed (1908) National Union of Farmers – which forbade landowners from joining – was the strongest body in agriculture, with ten thousand members (only a paltry number of farmers sat in Parliament). For many, it felt as if the decline of the aristocracy was in freefall.

‘Since I own the other half of everything, isn’t it more appropriate for me to manage the boy’s fortunes?’

ROBERT

Those landowners and new owner-occupiers who held on had to diversify or die. This is what we see happening in
Downton Abbey
in series four, with the Granthams’ additional problem of a large death duties bill following the loss of Matthew. This could not be easily settled, thanks to the law of entail. This was the system devised to prevent future generations from squandering their inheritance: a grandfather would legally settle the family estates on to his grandson so that the son would only ever have interest in them during his lifetime, with access to income but not capital.

The law of entail was effectively abolished in 1925 with the Settled Land Act, but many families continued to operate their inheritance in this way, understanding as they did that it had protected aristocratic estates for centuries. But in 1924, our Downton year for the opening of the fifth series, this system was still legally intact.

At the time of his death, Matthew owned half of the Downton estate (having bought it out using his inheritance from Swire), while Robert owns the other half. When Matthew apparently died with no will, it was believed that his assets would transfer almost entirely to George, bypassing Mary (her small share is only a life interest). Added to this, Robert is keen to be the sole person in charge of the entire estate again – in other words, controlling his and Matthew’s halves as he once did before he had to sell out.

‘My destiny is to save Downton for George.’

MARY

Fortunately, the discovery of the letter – tucked into a book in his office – in which Matthew named Mary as his sole heir ensures that she now owns his half of the estate; it is this she seeks to protect on behalf of their son. Still, it doesn’t dodge the question of the high death duties (taxes levied on inherited property) that need to be paid and now she and Robert have to find a way to pay them without breaking up the estate if George is to inherit Downton Abbey intact. (Death duties will have to be paid again when Robert dies, so they need to make sure there is money to spare.) Furthermore, Robert is not keen to relinquish control to his daughter.

ROBERT:
‘Crop rotation? Livestock versus cereals? Indeed, the whole matter of the tax. There are lots of things I’d like your opinion on.’

MARY:
‘I assume you’re trying to make some sort of point.’

CORA:
‘He’s trying to show that a woman’s place is in the home.’

It is now that we see Mary’s true mettle. Despite her old-fashioned outlook in many ways – she does not fundamentally disagree with the order of the world and is far less a suffragette than Edith, let alone Sybil – at this point, she begins to be attracted to the idea that she herself might be the protector of her son’s inheritance. The question is whether she decides to protect it in the traditional way, through a second suitable marriage to a man with money and power of his own, which would stabilise Downton, or in a radical new way, through industry and modern farming methods.

The 1920s were a constant battle of trying to outwit the weather, machinery, interest rates and the world markets – a battle the farmer often lost. Many landowning families did not manage to find a solution to the difficulties they faced, but Mary is pragmatic. Together with Tom, as the land agent, and occasionally with Robert’s backing, she works to find new ways for the estate to yield money. Pig farming is one such idea.

At this point in our story, Charles Blake enters the fray, a rather handsome knight in tweed, although Mary doesn’t see him that way at first. He is part of a government investigation into how the breaking up of estates may affect food production, something that was indeed happening at the time. Diversification from arable farming into livestock was a big risk, particularly as improvements in refrigeration meant that cheap meat started to be imported from abroad. Nor do the Granthams appear to be starting slowly: they have embarked on intensive farming with pigs, managed by Mr Drewe. The recent discovery of vitamin supplements – allowing animals to be raised indoors – makes this a new method and, therefore, pretty risky. If it all goes wrong, Mary and Tom’s bright idea could be responsible for losing a great deal of money.

Charles Blake

Tom’s role as land agent is crucial to the success of the estate. A land agent, sometimes called a steward, traditionally was the man (and it always was a man) who supervised the business affairs of an estate, from the farming to the collecting of the rents. He would be treated as a privileged and senior servant. So in some ways, this puts Tom in a funny position – he is from below stairs, now above stairs as widower of the family’s daughter and essentially works as a servant once more. Hence Violet’s confusion: ‘I thought that I could call him Branson again now he’s the agent.’ But his experience from the farm in Ireland, his trustworthiness, his energy for new ideas and his friendship with Mary should stand the estate in good stead (so long as it works out with the pigs).

ROSAMUND:
‘I gather you’ve launched into pigs these days.’

BRANSON:
‘Yes. And their arrival was quite the adventure in which Mr Blake and Mary were the hero and heroine.’

The outdoor scenes on the estate are largely shot at the Highclere Castle location itself, which is nothing enviable. The crew have a saying that when it’s warm elsewhere, it’s cold at Highclere; and when it’s cold elsewhere, it’s freezing. Julian Ovenden, who plays Charles Blake, however, did enjoy filming the pig scenes, despite the mud: ‘They were very juicy scenes. Usually one has to concentrate and be very economical and specific, as you only have a few lines to establish your character.’

The infamous pig scene in series four, in which Mary and Charles spend the night giving water to the dehydrated pigs and end up very muddy in the process, was in fact filmed during the day. ‘By that point we were shooting in high summer,’ explains producer Chris Croucher, ‘so to film at night would have put our schedule out. Julian rewrote what was originally an exterior scene as an interior so that it could take place in a barn. An enormous tent was put over the barn to black it out and then we had to create the wet mud. We had to use clean soil as there was a lot of throwing it around near the actors’ mouths. We also had to be very careful around the pigs as they can be quite vicious!’

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