Do you watch Downton Abbey? I am one of the millions of people worldwide who has become enamoured with the British period television series written by Julian Fellowes. The fictional series is set in a country estate and portrays the life of an aristocratic family and their servants. The first series began in 1912, immediately after the sinking of the Titanic, and the subsequent series weave through the rest of the decade.
I find the show entertaining, engaging and intriguing. Aside from Maggie Smith’s inimitable depiction of the Dowager Countess, which alone makes it worthwhile viewing, I am captivated by the staff who cater to the Crawley household’s every need. There is a person employed to do just about every job around a house you can possibly imagine.
To wash, iron and prepare clothes. To clean, polish and dust every single surface and crevice. To plan and prepare meals, stock cupboards, order groceries and arrange dinner parties. To wash sheets, make beds and sort the linen cupboard. To mend clothes, collect supplies from the village, serve tea and clean the fireplace. There are footmen, drivers, assistant footmen, valets, Lady’s maids, a butler, a cook and cook’s assistants.
These employees work tirelessly to ensure every tiny domestic cog is perfectly oiled so the family can get on with the important and apparently busy business of being rich aristocrats. The cruel modern irony is that no one in the family whose every need is being met even has a job.
I am generalising here but I suspect few of us have a household, or lifestyle, that is comparable with Downton Abbey. I can’t remember the last time I hosted a white-tie five course meal for eight in the drawing room. Because it’s never happened. But while we might not sit down for formal dinners and we might not need staff to polish the non-existent silverware, what needs to be done in a day hasn’t changed all that much. The big ticket tasks are the same.
We still must get dressed, feed ourselves and our families, clean the house, wash clothes, iron (actually I skip this one altogether), bathe children, cook meals, stock cupboards, clean up after meals and pay bills. Sheets need washing, beds need changing, floors need cleaning, medical scripts need renewing. Cars need servicing, bigger shoes need buying for growing feet, hair needs cutting. Childcare arrangements need sorting, health insurance updated, appointments made, bank accounts maintained.
And that’s just the home list; that’s before anyone even steps out the door and begins their paid work. Or before you begin to consider your friends and family – birthdays, phone-calls, playdates, emails, weddings, christenings. Most of us just wake up and plough through these lists, largely, on our own.
Unlike in Downton Abbey where there is a valued, respected, well-paid, well-oiled, well-staffed team to help, we do it alone. (And, as I said earlier, the people being helped don’t even have jobs to juggle!)
I do not believe, for a solitary second, there is any merit in the class system which facilitated life like that depicted in Downton Abbey. It is deeply regrettable, in my view, that the remnants of the class system are still visible and relevant in many places.
While I don’t think there is any merit in the class system, truthfully, I can see the merit in more than one or two people being wholly responsible for the logistics of daily life. The truth is, for most of us there is no alternative. But that is why I find it just a tiny bit fortifying to watch the Crawley family; it makes me feel very, very, productive. And there is satisfaction in that.