DOWNTON ABBEY: THE DAY I GOT TO SEE THE REAL THING

Me at Downton Abbey (Highclere Castle)

            As the car wound its way through the rolling hillsides dotted with fat sheep, I could barely tamp down my excitement. We slowed and pulled to the side for each approaching car as the lane was too narrow for two vehicles to safely pass each other.

            “No wonder Matthew was run off the road and died,” I said.

            “Who died?” My eleven-year-old son asked in alarm.

            My husband clarified, “Remember the show we told you about? Downton Abbey? One of the characters of that show was driving on this lane fast and was accidentally run off the road.”

            “Oh, so nobody really died,” our son said, relieved. “It was just a show.”

            Just a show?

            My husband David and I came upon Downton Abbey a full four seasons in. We heard the hype but never had the time to start from the beginning so we kept putting off watching it. Finally, I borrowed season one from the library and we began to watch. We needn’t have worried about the time factor. We watched the entire season in one weekend. Seasons two, three, and four immediately followed, although we paced ourselves a bit better so we could prolong the experience of immersing ourselves in that house, those clothes, the Crawley family, and their servants. Timing was on our side, because as soon as we finished watching the last of the DVD’s, the new season was just beginning on PBS. After binge watching every prior episode, it seemed highly barbaric having to wait an entire week between shows. Of course, that was nothing compared to the period of mourning we endured after the final episode, knowing we would be waiting a year to experience the final season of the series. Just a show?  Not quite.

            We weren’t driving up in a jaunty convertible Rolls Royce or 1911 Renault. It was a nondescript taxi and we didn’t get to pull up to the castle with Carson and his servants lined up to greet us. We made it only to the car park (the parking lot), but my excitement was not dulled whatsoever, because I had already gotten my first glimpse of Downton Abbey, a.k.a. Highclere Castle. It was more beautiful in person than they could even make it look on television. I couldn’t stop staring at it.

            Highclere Castle is open to the public on a limited basis (about 60 to 70 days each year), because the Countess of Carnarvon and her family make it their full time residence. Because of this, I expected it to be teeming with tourists. However, the grounds are so vast, we only saw small groupings of people here and there. We almost felt like we had been invited to one of the Crawley garden parties. 

            To balance the flow of traffic inside the castle, there are two ticket times, one morning and one afternoon. Our afternoon ticket was not in effect for another forty-five minutes or so, but we were allowed anywhere on the grounds before that time, so we took advantage of it. As you know from the show, the grounds are stunning. I always notice the trees when I watch, mostly because they’re usually incongruous with whatever season it’s supposed to be. (Sure enough, they had just wrapped shooting the Christmas episode the week prior when everything was in full bloom.) The trees are magnificent and enormous. You can get a sense of the scale with this photo of my son standing under one of the trees.

My son under one of the enormous trees

            We immediately recognized the path that is often trod when two or three of the characters are walking and talking outside.

The often seen path

We followed it around the perimeter of the castle. The grounds behind the castle lead to a meadow of wildflowers and a brick walled garden of roses and topiary bushes in the shape of arches. 

 

A greenhouse chock full of blooms stood adjacent to the garden. When we walked to the coach house later on, which is now a café, tea house, and gift shop, we saw several people buying their potted flowers. At the back of the garden we spotted a wooden sign that read Secret Garden, so we opened the wrought iron gate to reveal a winding path of countless varieties of flowers. How many adjectives can I substitute for the word spectacular? That’s all it was. Spectacular.

              

          Even so, 1:00 arrived and the castle awaited. We made our way to the front of the castle and waited a few moments for the short line of people to filter in. My only disappointment of the day was that there was no photography allowed once inside the house. To be honest, I am known to break this rule in certain places and just don’t use a flash, but because this was someone’s home, I felt I should respect the request. 

One of the front doors

            It was at this point that I felt a slight trepidation. I recalled the moment I first saw Dorothy’s ruby red slippers at the Smithsonian and was disappointed that they merely looked like the kind of red sequins I used to use for craft projects pinned to a shoe. What if, up close, Downton Abbey turned out to be Downton Shabby? To add to my fears, the first room we would be seeing was the library – my favorite room.

            I stepped into the room and caught my breath. It was even more stunning than on television. It was precisely the same but somehow better. The mahogany paneling, the rich red curtains, the desk, the columns, the fireplace hearth, the long windows, and the books. All. Those. Books. (Fun Fact: There are 5,650 books in the room.) Oh, how I wanted to sit on one of those red velvet couches and be served a proper tea. We lingered in the library for quite some time, but no one pulled the chord for tea service, so we moved on.

            The drawing room where they are sometimes seen gathering before dinner was also a favorite. The green silk fabric on the walls gave the room a soothing feel. An impressive collection of ancient Chinese furniture and artifacts were also displayed in this room.

            As we toured each of the rooms – the music room, the smoking room, etc., the only differences I could decipher from what is shown on TV is the removal of all the framed family photographs and the repositioning of some of the furniture. “That side table should be over there,” I muttered to myself. Three other obsessive fans women in the room nodded in agreement.

            We went up a set of back stairs to reach the second floor. The first bedroom we saw was where the Turkish diplomat Pamuk was carried back after he died while bedding Mary in season one. We also poked around all three daughters’ rooms and Cora’s, plus a few other bedrooms that are not seen on the show (or maybe they are but I didn’t recognize them). We were told that all of the bedrooms are currently used by the family. I’m sure it’s amazing to live at Highclere castle but judging by the bedrooms, not all that comfortable for sleeping. The beds looked lumpy and the bathrooms were not updated. Plus there was no air conditioning. But you couldn't deny that the views from every room were magnificent. Here at home, I often sit in a different area of the house to change up my view when I’m writing. I couldn’t help but imagine all the different spots in the castle from which I could write without replicating the view.

            The hallways connecting the bedrooms overlooked the central saloon and led to the oak staircase. (This is where Rose had the jazz band play for Lord Grantham’s birthday.) Wow! The 50-foot vaulted ceiling makes the space even more majestic. I was wishing I’d brought a veil so I could fling it down the grand staircase as Edith had done after her non-wedding. Before descending, I took a peek behind one of the upstairs doors that led to the servants’ stairs. Nothing out of the ordinary, but I had to at least get a little taste of the “downstairs.” Tom Barrow must’ve been outside having a cig, as I did not hear him plotting with anyone on the stairs. I took my time stepping down the sweeping red carpeted staircase and noted one of the secret servant doors at the bottom of the steps.

            The last room we saw was the dining room. It unfortunately wasn’t set for dinner, and as it was early in the day, I doubted Carson had yet decantered the wine. (Although I did get to view some of the silver in a showcase before leaving.) As I walked past each dining chair, I easily imagined one of the first scenes of the series where Lord Grantham is seated at the head of the breakfast table while reading a telegram about his cousins being on the Titanic.

            Although the castle guides often told us about the painted portraits or the furniture, most people asked about the show. Apparently, one of the perks of being a docent is that they get to stick around for the shooting of Downton Abbey. “What was it like?” we all asked them. The guides concurred, “Extremely boring. Every scene took forever. We had the hottest day of the year last week and the poor actors were sweating buckets in their winter costumes.” 

            I guess I’ll have to stick to the glamour in my imagination.

            The “downstairs” part of Downton is filmed at another location, but we did get to glance at the real servants’ kitchen and sitting and eating rooms as we exited through the basement, although they were now being used as overflow tearooms.

            Just before leaving the castle, the hallway offered one final gem: the wall of servants’ bells. The bells were no longer present, but each room was labeled under the circle where the bell had once been. There were A LOT of bells!

            Servants’ bells begin the opening credits and it’s where we reluctantly took our leave. We stopped for tea at the coach house and walked the grounds one last time before finally departing. Even without a footman in sight, it was an extremely satisfying visit to Downton.