Tag Archives: Downton Abbey

Jeeves: the Ultimate Valet

In the British TV series Jeeves and Wooster, ditsy aristocrat Bertie Wooster answers his door to find a dignified personage, his new valet Jeeves, who says, “I was given to understand that you required a valet, sir.” As usual, Bertie Wooster’s life is in disarray, so Jeeves has arrived not a moment too soon. So begins a howlingly funny saga that says a lot about British social classes. The series, drawn from the Jeeves and Wooster stories of P.G. Wodehouse, ran from 1990 to 1993.

Hugh Laurie, better known to American audiences as the difficult genius Dr. House, plays Bertie. His real-life friend and collaborator Stephen Fry plays Jeeves.

The joke is that the valet is miles ahead of the aristocrat in intelligence, education, proper behavior, and common sense. So Jeeves uses his ingenuity to pull Bertie out of one impossible scrape after another, all of them caused by Bertie’s cluelessness.

Jeeves is also at pains to save Bertie from fashion faux pas, as in this exchange, concerning an unsightly white jacket Bertie insists on wearing:

Jeeves: I assumed it had got into your wardrobe by mistake, sir, or else that it has been placed there by your enemies.

Bertie Wooster: I’ll have you know, Jeeves, that I bought this in Cannes!

Jeeves: And wore it, sir?

Bertie Wooster: Every night at the Casino. Beautiful women used to try and catch my eye!

Jeeves: Presumably they thought you were a waiter, sir.

Actually, Jeeves is much more than a valet. Bertie is a single young man, and the time is the 1930’s when servants are becoming few and far between. So Bertie only has one servant. Jeeves is cook, butler, driver, valet, and guardian angel. Jeeves knows everything. (The search engine “Ask” was originally named “Ask Jeeves”). In his spare time, Jeeves reads Shakespeare and Spinoza, and can come up with a pithy quote for every occasion.

P. G. Wodehouse wrote about Jeeves and Wooster all through his long writing career, over a span of 59 years. Jeeves’s first appearance was in 1915 and his last in 1974, the year before the author’s death. During that time, ideas about the master/servant relationship changed dramatically.

World War I brought about the greatest change. As in Downton Abbey, servants often accompanied aristocratic officers to the battlefield. In the story, footman William accompanies Matthew Crawley to the trenches.

During the war, it became clear to everyone that servants faced battle with at least as much courage as their social betters. In fact, true or not, there was a popular idea that aristocrats were much more likely to be victims of what was then called “shell-shock.” The number of servants employed in Britain went from about a million and a half before the war to just over a million afterwards. Those who returned from the fighting often sought better opportunities. Wealthy families had less money to keep up their estates, too. And lampooning the rich made P.G. Wodehouse extremely popular.

One of the pleasures of watching British films is trying to recognize film locations. One episode of Jeeves and Wooster, “Trouble at Totleigh Towers,” was filmed at–you can probably guess–Highclere, the location for Downton Abbey. All the more reason to visit sometime!

Join me next time for more explorations into the art, literature and history of Europe and the British Isles.

Downton Abbey: How Does Mr. Bates Rate?

Leave a reply

One of the most interesting aspects of the show Downton Abbey is the way the servants have their own hierarchy that mirrors the strict hierarchy “above stairs.” When the servants sit down to dinner, they sit according to their positions in the household, from Mr. Carson the butler right on down through the ranks to Daisy the scullery maid.

Every British tourist attraction sells little guidebooks published by the Pitkin company. They run about 30 pages and are packed with information. I buy one for every attraction I visit. This one explains how a pre-war British country house worked. (The First World War shook the system; the Second World War pretty much ended the system entirely).

The book lists some typical YEARLY salaries for household staff in the late 19th century:

Butler 70 pounds (Mr. Carson)

Master’s Valet 60 pounds (Mr. Bates)

Housekeeper 40 to 60 pounds (Mrs. Hughes)

Lady’s Maid 50 pounds (devious Miss O’Brien)

Footman 20-30 pounds (saintly William , dastardly Thomas)

Scullery Maid 5-10 pounds (Daisy)

At this same time, there were about 700 families in England who could support large country homes. A rule of thumb was that an income of at least 1,000 pounds per year was required, or the income from at least 1,000 acres of land.

The master’s valet was especially important; his job was to make the master look impressive at all times. Valets often received lavish gifts, including the master’s hand-me-down clothing which they could either wear or sell. Since room, board and uniforms were provided, a valet could save most or all of his money.

Many valets did very well for themselves. For example, the poet Lord Byron had a valet named James Brown. In 1837, James Brown opened Brown’s Hotel with his savings. The hotel is still one of the most elegant places to stay in London.

Afternoon tea, priced at around $60 per person, is still quite an occasion.

The price includes piano entertainment and an unlimited supply of little sandwiches, scones and cakes which are served graciously for as long as the customer wants to sit there basking in luxury. Some years ago, I had tea there. At the time, the waiters made a great show of clearing the tables by whisking the tablecloth OUT FROM UNDER the cups, plates, pots and tiered cake stand. Do they still do it? I guess I’ll have to return to find out.

As for Mr. Bates on Downton Abbey, I hope he is able to climb out of the hole he’s landed in. I wish him a long happy life with his true love, Anna.

Join me next time for more explorations into the art and history of Europe, including the British Isles!

Mark Rylance in Victorian England

2 Replies

Last week the fine actor Mark Rylance finished the Guthrie Theater run of his play Nice Fish, (co-written with the Duluth poet Louis Jenkins). Minneapolis will miss him, but I want to recommend his 1995 film Angels and Insects. I think I saw Mr. Rylance on stage years ago in England, but this excellent movie is the first time I remember seeing him.

The movie is based on A.S. Byatt’s novella Morpho Eugenia, and she participated in writing the screenplay.

Mark Rylance plays a penniless naturalist, William Adamson. He is just back from years studying animals and insects along the Amazon. Almost all his possessions were lost in a shipwreck on his way home to England, so he counts himself lucky to find a job helping a rich Victorian man catalog his own collections. The Victorians were great ones for collections, of course. Every respectable country home had shelves full of curiosities.

Patsy Kensit plays a somewhat dimwitted and seriously messed-up daughter of the family. Kristin Scott Thomas plays a razor-sharp governess. William Adamson finds himself between them. Of course, complications ensue. Mr. Rylance, as William Adamson, steals every scene with his quiet dignity that clearly covers a passionate nature. He is the second-most intelligent person on the premises, and yet he falls into a trap that an outsider can see from a mile away. As always, love is blind.

What I find fascinating about the movie is the depiction of social classes in a grand country house which is very similar to Downton Abbey. Instead of the formal but friendly relations depicted in the TV series, the servants in Angels and Insects are supposed to either grovel or turn invisible. When a housemaid encounters a family member in a corridor, the housemaid has to immediately turn and face the wall until the family member passes. And William Adamson has to rescue a maid from sexual abuse by a haughty family member. I have to wonder whether the TV series or the movie has the more accurate depiction of master/servant behavior.

Bedroom arrangements are interesting, too. In Downton Abbey, Lady Mary teases her parents for sharing a bedroom. The penniless William Adamson has no such luck. When he marries the daughter of the house, he gets certain privileges, but he always knows his place. He is given a small bachelor-like room adjoining his heiress bride’s bedroom. However, he is only allowed into her grand bedroom when she has her maid unlock the door in between. If he is not welcome, he finds himself standing in his nightshirt before a silent locked door.

The movie was filmed at Arbury Hall in Nuneaton, Warwickshire. The descendants of the founding families still occupy it. It is not part of the National Trust, which in modern times means it has to be run as a money-making enterprise. Like many stately homes, it is now used for corporate events and weddings. The neo-Gothic rooms shown on the estate’s website are grand indeed. Visiting hours are limited, but I’m putting it on my list for my next trip.

The 19th century writer George Eliot (Mary Anne Evans) was born on the estate. Her father worked as a manager there. She wrote about the estate as “Cheverel Manor” in her book Scenes of Clerical Life.

For stellar acting and a fascinating look at Victorian life, check out the movie Angels and Insects. And join me next time for more explorations into the art and history of Europe–and the British Isles.

Why Do Americans Love Downton Abbey?

Leave a reply

I can’t speak for everyone, but I like the show for the sheer Englishness of it. The show actually depicts a long-vanished England, so there’s an element of nostalgia, too. And the England depicted never did really exist except for a very tiny minority of aristocratic people and the comparatively small number of ordinary people who served them in their grand country homes. So there’s a large element of fantasy.

Even today, as England becomes more and more diverse, I love the uniquely English expressions, habits and ways of looking at the world. For example, here is a sign that stands outside the very old, very ornate gate of the private driveway of Chatsworth House, in Derbyshire:

The hand-lettered sign reads “Dead Slow. Hoot.” What does it mean? I could not think of any legitimate reason that as a lowly tourist, I could drive up to the private gate and demand entry. But I think the sign means that drivers are to approach the gate as slowly as humanly possible, and then to sound their horns to be let in. The word “Hoot” implies, of course, a decorous tap, not a prolonged blast. Apparently there is no automatic opener and no card-recognition system on the 18th-century gate. Someone will have to run out, confer with the driver, and swing the gate open.

Notice also the gathering of people and animals beside the gate. The wearing of practical rain gear and the watering of dogs are hallowed activities in the countryside of England. So is the visiting of stately homes–it has been a favorite pastime at least since the days of Jane Austen. In Pride and Prejudice, Elizabeth Bennet famously changes her fate when against her better judgment she tours Mr. Darcy’s estate, Pemberly, and comes face to face with Mr. Darcy himself. Many people believe that Jane Austen based Pemberly on Chatsworth House.

I just read that the “real” Downton Abbey, Highclere Castle, is completely sold out of pre-bookable tickets for the coming opening times, mid-July to mid-September. There are some tickets available to walk-ups, usually after 2 pm. However, if I were traveling to England this summer, I would not let that worry me. I would go instead to Chatsworth House, and then I would go to at least a dozen other stately homes. They’re all over England, and each has its own story every bit as fascinating as the fictional one so many of us love.

I’m going to write in coming posts about English country houses I have visited. Join me next time for more explorations into the art and history of Europe–with the British Isles thrown in!