A Year in the Life of Downton Abbey: Seasonal Celebrations, Traditions, and Recipes (20 page)

Nightclubs were just a part of this general mood of rebellion and the extravagant dances a part of them. The Original Dixieland Jazz Band was one of the first to come over from America, holding a three month season at the Hammersmith Palais de Danse in 1919 and introducing hits such as ‘I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles’ and ‘Tiger Rag’; after that, several followed. In
Downton Abbey,
of course, one of these is Jack Ross and his band.

The story of Rose and Jack Ross, says Julian, was based on the real-life black jazz musician Leslie Hutchinson, known as Hutch. (My own mother-in-law danced as a young girl to his band, which is a nice illustration of how close to us this ‘period drama’ really is.) Originally from Grenada, he had a great many affairs with high-society women in Paris and London, becoming the subject of a major scandal when a young deb became pregnant by him. She was hastily married off to an army officer, but when the baby was born, it was clear he was not the father; sadly, the baby was adopted and the officer sued his bride’s parents.

Hutch, always extremely well-dressed and apparently doused in Chanel No5, was a friend of Josephine Baker’s, and after playing at parties hosted by the fashionable Daisy Fellowes (a cousin of Julian’s), he became part of the Prince of Wales’s fast set and a darling of the ‘Bright Young Things’ (BYTs). This phrase was coined by the newspapers, who breathlessly followed the exploits of a few beautiful, upper-class young men and women – the members changed over the years, but included Cecil Beaton, Stephen Tennant, Elizabeth Ponsonby (cousin of Loelia), the Jungman sisters and Diana Mitford – who, for a while in the mid-1920s, provided plenty of thrilling copy with their flapper clothes, dance crazes, wild costume parties, alleged orgies and treasure hunts, which involved speeding round London to find ‘clues’ in the middle of the night. Their antics were perfectly satirised by Evelyn Waugh in his novel
Vile Bodies.

Charlotte Breese writes that the BYTs – a decade younger than Hutch – and particularly the girls, ‘found his exoticism and air of international sophistication preferable to the callow gaucheness of their white partners. He had lived a much wider, more exciting life than most of them … He looked spectacular and rode well in Rotten Row [the see-and-be-seen broad avenue in Hyde Park], and, to the delight of spectators, would often scoop up his bowler from the ground at full gallop.’ The attraction Rose has for Jack is based on much the same impression – he is dashing and gallant.

Despite this, Hutch experienced racism: ‘You have no idea how much colour prejudice there was in London in those days,’ he recalled in the 1960s. ‘Many times I was asked to go and sing at big parties in grand houses, I had to go in by the servants’ entrance. At the time, I just accepted it as the way things were, but it makes me mad as hell now.’ Some claim it was not racial so much as class prejudice. Dame Barbara Cartland remembered inviting Hutch to lunch as a friend, but said: ‘[He], like Ambrose, that bandleader, always knew his place and did not presume on the fact that we were friends. There was a barrier, not because he was black, but because he was a paid performer.’

The Original Dixieland Jazz Band came to London in 1919.

Jack Ross

Widowed and recovering from the loss of Matthew, Mary is able to enjoy the season again, if only for the clothes and company she keeps. Still young and beautiful, there’s no shortage of admirers, a fact that her family are apt to tease her with.

The season, of course, was the perfect time for budding romances. It’s not just the birds and the bees that make the most of spring’s sunshine. In 1924, men and women may have been less strait-laced than before the war, but the sexual mores of the Edwardians were still hard to shake off, not least while the older generation were around to comment.

It’s hard to gauge what a woman of that time knew about sex, as it wasn’t a subject they could read about easily in books or even write about in their diaries (unless they were sure to burn them later). There was a little more information than previous generations had enjoyed, thanks to Marie Stopes, a forward-thinking suffragette who much regretted an unhappy marriage (she divorced her first husband on the grounds that their alliance had never been consummated) and wanted things to be different for other women. Her books
Married Love
and
Wise Parenthood,
published in 1918, were worldwide bestsellers for years, as well as being the subject of huge controversy. She intended them as books on birth control for married couples, but they were often referred to as sex manuals, although the language is scientific in tone and hardly erotic. Mrs Hughes certainly feels she’s got the measure of Edna, the maid that seduced Tom Branson, when she finds a copy of
Married Love
in her room.

Tony Gillingham

Lady Mary and Lady Rose talking in the London house.

Even Mary may find the changing times hard to resist for long. In many ways a traditionalist, she is nevertheless drawn to the future – even when she feels uncertain how to respond to new dilemmas. Gareth Neame resists naming a favourite character – ‘There’s not a weak link, I love all of them’ – but says of Mary: ‘She’s central to the figures in the show. Her grandmother knows her day is gone and Mary knows she is like her, but sees that she belongs to a different era. She has to be a moderniser and where Robert is clinging on, Mary is a pragmatist.’ This attitude of hers is reflected in her dress. Anna Robbins, costume designer, says of her wardrobe in series five: ‘Her palettes have come out of mourning now, but she’s going through a process of discovering things about herself and how she wants life to be.’ Anna also thinks Mary has an interest in fashion, even if she takes her own view on it: ‘She’d follow Chanel, but there’s a pared-down classic take on the fashionable. With Mary, it’s not about using bolder, fussy prints, or even textured fabrics, it’s about cutting techniques. We use a lot of silk and cashmere for her – others might wear devoré, but she would only ever be in plain velvet. We use monochromatic colours in a Chanel way. Mary is the embodiment of the future of Downton Abbey – the dark greens and dark reds of the house are used in her wardrobe, so that she looks as if she belongs in the room.’

Perhaps Mary might have chosen a scent to underline this new, mature period of her life. Expert Lizzie Ostrom suggests she might wear something sophisticated from the Corsican perfume entrepreneur François Coty: ‘Coty’s fragrances were exquisitely packaged in Lalique bottles and were very expensive indeed, with a sense of discreet luxury. They were also grown-up, adored by the cognoscenti – his Chypre, from 1917, was inspired by the famous fragrance type of the island of Cyprus, full of mosses and woods, and subsequently much imitated. Chypre is long gone, but Mitsouko from Guerlain, originally dating from 1919, is of a similar type, if fruitier, and still available today.’

At the end of the season, it was suddenly as important not to be seen in London as it had been to be seen in it. There was a mass exodus at the end of July, and certainly by the middle of August (the grouse season begins on the 12th), the only people remaining in the capital would have been decidedly unfashionable. The Crawleys will make their exit well in time. The servants will be wrung out and ready to stretch out again after their cramped quarters in Grantham House. Robert will be looking forward to a little peace and quiet, as well as, presumably, a bit of time off from writing large cheques for his wife’s dressmaker and milliner. The women will welcome the respite from the dressing up and sideways glances of London’s fashion commentators. Rose will miss the whirl of parties, nightclubs and dances; she must concentrate on finding something to do in Yorkshire that will keep her as occupied and fascinated. All of them will dine out on the gossip they’ve heard, seen and maybe even created for weeks. That, after all, was part of the point of the season – the pure entertainment value. What japes!

Potting in butter would have been Mrs Patmore’s way of using up scraps offish – kippers and shrimps can be given the same treatment. Serve as a starter, supper dish or as part of a picnic.

SERVES 4

Place the butter, mace and bay leaf in a small pan over a medium heat and gently heat until the butter starts to bubble. Remove from the heat, cover and leave to one side for about 30 minutes to infuse.

Meanwhile, flake the salmon into a mixing bowl, discarding any skin and bones. Add the grated nutmeg, cayenne, dill, lemon juice and zest, and season generously with salt and pepper. Pour in a splash of the butter and mix well to combine. Divide the salmon mixture between ramekins or small pots, pressing it down until flat.

Pour the rest of the melted butter through a sieve into a jug, leaving the milky liquid (solids) behind in the pan. Pour the clarified butter over the salmon in the ramekins. Cover the ramekins and chill in the fridge for at least 1 hour. Eat within 3–4 days. Take out of the fridge 15 minutes before serving.

Serve the potted salmon with hot, thin toast and lemon wedges.