By Nathan Uldricks
Downton Abbey is a British-produced television drama on PBS that revolves around the lives of the occupants of a fictitious estate (the Downton Abbey) in the English countryside. The piece is set during the reign of King George V in the early 20th Century.
The show has been a big hit in the United States, with the second season’s finale concluding just this past Sunday.
The miniseries is a rich period piece — with beautiful, luxurious costumes and lush English backgrounds — that follows the Downton Abbey’s aristocratic family and their league of servants as they each go about the affairs of their particular social strata. It provides the viewer with a glimpse of a bygone era in English society where rigid social hierarchies and traditions were commonplace.
Robert, the Earl of Grantham and the estate’s owner and heir, for instance, defers to a much younger duke solely because he was born higher on the social spectrum. Robert bends over backward for the duke to make his arrival and welcome to the estate distinguished, and hopes the duke will propose to his newly-single daughter, Mary.
She, on the other hand, has hesitations about the advances of Matthew Crawley, an upper-middle-class attorney, because he is of a lower, working class than she. Such distinctions are important to the aristocracy.
Interestingly, there is even a strict hierarchy within the Abbey’s servant staff. Carson, Robert’s butler, is at the top of this class as the manager of the pantry, wine cellar and dining room. He also manages all the male staff— a valet, two footmen and a driver.
Mrs. Hughes is also at the top of staff as she oversees the general appearance of the house. Under her are several maids, a cook and a cook’s assistant. The driver and the assistant are at the very bottom of this group.
The series’ portrayal of the classes of Edwardian society offers striking revelations about human nature. Though rigid in their structure and varied in their levels of refinement, the classes are comprised of human beings who are more or less the same at their core.
The people in each class are capable of a wide spectrum of actions: they can be noble yet revolting, decent yet selfish, and brave yet cowardly. It tells us that human nature is as universal as it was during the days of Thucydides, that it transcends social class.
Human beings, whether clothed in silk gowns or stained aprons or born to someone famous or someone you’ve never heard of, are all motivated by the same emotions and desires. They all face the same moral dilemmas and have their own interests to look after.
That is one of the most fascinating aspects of Downton Abbey. The servants and the aristocrats are all equals when it comes to their behavior. Thomas, a young first footman, resents the arrival of Bates, a Boer War veteran with a pronounced limp, who is to be Robert’s new valet. Thomas had his eye on the valet spot, which, because of the proximity it offers to the earl, is more prestigious and higher up the social scale.
So throughout the entire first season, Thomas plots to sabotage Bates and get him removed from the staff. He exploits his limp, digs up questionable things from his past, and even tries to plant stolen property in his room. Bates, on the other hand, slowly reveals his qualities of magnanimity and loyalty.
Among the aristocrats, there is deep animosity between two of the sisters — Mary, the oldest and heir apparent to the estate, and Edith, the overlooked, yet intelligent, middle child.
Mary has a deep secret that her chaste reputation relies upon, which is particularly important as she is accepting suitors for her hand in marriage. The rivalry between the two sisters eventually leads Edith to reveal Mary’s secret and sully her good name. But once Mary realizes Edith’s betrayal, she deters a man from proposing to Edith, completely crushing her sister.
The sibling rivalry takes on an additional degree of offensiveness because you expect that, as refined and well-educated aristocrats, the sisters would have pristine manners. Alas, it is not so.
There is something Socratic in the parallel pettiness and nastiness of the aristocratic and servant classes. Virtue, it seems, is more a matter of individual character than superficial social construct.
Nathan Uldricks is founder and president of The Everyday Hero Foundation, a non-profit.
