Downton Abbey Script Book Season 1 Read online

  A CARNIVAL FILMS/MASTERPIECE CO-PRODUCTION

  DOWNTON ABBEY

  THE COMPLETE SCRIPTS

  SEASON ONE

  JULIAN FELLOWES

  DEDICATION

  To Emma and Peregrine, Downton’s sternest critics and most fervent supporters.

  CONTENTS

  Dedication

  Foreword

  Episode One

  Episode Two

  Episode Three

  Episode Four

  Episode Five

  Episode Six

  Episode Seven

  Cast List

  Production Credits

  Acknowledgements

  Photo Section

  Credits

  Copyright

  Back Ad

  About the Publisher

  NOTE: Lines surrounding the script text indicated sections of text that were cut from the original script to make the final edited version.

  FOREWORD

  It is not given to many to write themselves into a whirlwind on the scale of Downton Abbey. I am often asked why it has all happened, and while I try to come up with various reasons, I don’t really know the answer. What I do know is that it is a great privilege to be allowed to invent a community and to continue to track their fortunes, through ill wind and good, with the luxury of space and length that only television can give you. Of course none of it would have come to pass without our consistently marvellous crew and our truly extraordinary actors, every one of whom has fleshed out their characters until they are controlling me and not the other way round. I cannot name favourites, except to proclaim that they are all my favourites, and I thank God for them.

  This is a chance to see the complete scripts of the first series as they were when they went forward into production. Of course, when any show is filmed, parts of the screenplay will be cut, either before shooting begins or in the edit, but here you are allowed to read the whole script, as it once was. Cuts are sometimes made because the visual realisation of the story renders elements and scenes redundant; then again, some of the cuts are to gain time. Either way, there is, I hope, a certain interest in learning what went and what stayed, and in places, I have added notes to explain the choices and the decisions made.

  One thing I can say is that working on Downton has been an extraordinary and fulfilling experience in every way. The show, and everything to do with it, has made me feel a very lucky man.

  Julian Fellowes

  EPISODE ONE

  ACT ONE

  1 EXT. NORTHERN ENGLAND. DAWN.

  At dawn, a steam train travels through this lovely part of England. As the camera moves in, we can see a man, whom we will know as John Bates, sitting by himself in a second class carriage. Above him run the telegraph wires, humming with their unrevealed, urgent messages. The train flies on.

  2 INT. VILLAGE POST OFFICE. DAWN.

  A postmaster is sorting the letters with his wife when there’s a noise. They look at each other.

  POSTMASTER: You do it.

  Clearly, this is not what she wants to hear. She sits in the corner, puts on a heavy set of headphones and listens.

  POSTMASTER’S WIFE: Oh my God.

  She starts to write on a telegram form. Then she takes off the headphones as he draws near. She lets him read it.

  POSTMASTER: That’s impossible. It can’t be.

  If anything, he’s more shocked than she is.

  POSTMASTER (CONT’D): I’ll take it up there now.

  POSTMASTER’S WIFE: Jimmy can do it when he comes in.

  POSTMASTER: Better take it now.

  POSTMASTER’S WIFE: Don’t be stupid. None of them will be up for hours and what difference will it make?

  But she sighs and shakes her head with sorrow. The credits begin.

  3 EXT. DOWNTON ABBEY. DAWN.

  April 1912—The sun is rising behind Downton Abbey, a great and splendid house in a great and splendid park. So secure does it appear, that it seems as if the way of life it represents will last for another thousand years. It won’t.*

  4 INT. ANNA’S AND GWEN’S BEDROOM.

  There is a sharp knock on the door.

  DAISY (V.O.): Six o’clock.

  GWEN: Thank you, Daisy.†

  She looks across at the other body in the bed.

  GWEN (CONT’D): Anna?

  ANNA: Just once in my life, I’d like to sleep until I woke up natural.

  She groans and lies back, eyes closed.

  5 INT. KITCHEN. DAY.

  Daisy the scullery maid is raking out the clinker.* Mrs Patmore, the cook, comes in and ties on her apron.

  MRS PATMORE: Is your fire still in?

  DAISY: Yes, Mrs Patmore.

  MRS PATMORE: My, my, will wonders never cease? Have you laid the servants’ hall breakfast?

  DAISY: Yes, Mrs Patmore.

  MRS PATMORE: And finished blacking that stove?

  DAISY: Yes, Mrs Patmore.

  MRS PATMORE: What about the bedroom fires?

  DAISY: All lit, Mrs Patmore.

  MRS PATMORE: I suppose you woke them?

  DAISY: I don’t think so.†

  MRS PATMORE: Then take your basket and get started on the fires on the ground floor.

  Daisy gets to her feet and lifts the heavy basket.

  6 INT. GREEN BAIZE DOOR/GREAT HALL/HALL/LIBRARIES. DAY.

  Daisy comes up the grim kitchen staircase and pushes open the door. Beyond is a different world, with the light from a high glass dome playing on the pictures in their gilt frames, on the Turkey carpets, on the rich, shining woods of the furniture and gleaming floor. In a long, tracking shot, we follow the maid as she crosses the great hall into the marble-floored entrance hall, and on into a small library. She checks the fire. It has not been lit, so she moves on into the main library, vast, gilded and splendid. The first footman, Thomas, has just finished opening the shutters and he passes her without a word, as she kneels and glumly starts to brush out the grate. We follow Thomas.*

  7 INT. DINING ROOM. DAY.

  … into the richly furnished dining room. He opens the shutters as his junior, William, comes in with a tray.

  THOMAS: Where have you been?

  WILLIAM: I’m not late, am I?

  THOMAS: You’re late when I say you’re late.*

  William starts to spread a white damask table cloth.

  8 INT. DRAWING ROOM. DAY.

  Anna and Gwen open the curtains and shutters. Anna turns.

  ANNA: Daisy? Whatever are you doing there, crouching in the dark?

  The wretched Daisy is bent over the fire grate.

  DAISY: You weren’t here and I didn’t like to touch the curtains with my dirty hands.

  GWEN: Quite right, too.

  ANNA: Why didn’t you put the lights on?

  DAISY: I dursen’t.

  GWEN: It’s electricity, not the devil’s handiwork. You’ll have to get used to it sooner or later.

  ANNA: At Skelton Park, they’ve even got it in the kitchens.

  DAISY: What for?†

  And the maids, so crisp and clean in their outfits, plump the cushions and dust and tidy and make the kitchen maid, still hard at it in the ashes, feel very small indeed.

  9 INT. DOWNSTAIRS PASSAGE. DAY.

  The august figure of Mrs Hughes, the housekeeper, walks down a passage in her black dress, keys at her belt. She pauses by an open door and goes in.

  * * *

  10 INT. DINING ROOM. DAY.

  The fire is alight. William is finishing the table while Thomas sets out the dish holders on the sideboard and fits their oil lamps. Mrs Hughes stands for a moment.

  MRS HUGHES: It’s musty in here. Open a window.

/>   Thomas stares at her.

  MRS HUGHES (CONT’D): It’s all right, Thomas. I’m not countermanding Mr Carson’s orders. I suppose I can ask for a window to be opened without your calling the police.

  Thomas is not convinced but he opens the window.*

  MRS HUGHES (CONT’D): William, go and tell Mr Carson that breakfast is ready.

  * * *

  11 INT. CARSON’S PANTRY. DAY.

  Carson, the butler, sits in his magnificence. He wears an apron for his early duties. The silver safe is open nearby and three candlesticks are on his table. William knocks.

  WILLIAM: Breakfast is ready, Mr Carson.

  CARSON: Ah, William. Any papers yet?

  WILLIAM: They’re late.

  CARSON: They certainly are. Get the board out, so you can do them as soon as they’re here.

  William opens a cupboard and takes out a blackened ironing board which he sets up. An iron is heating on the grate.

  * * *

  CARSON (CONT’D): Do you know what’s happened to the fourth of the Lamerie candlesticks?

  WILLIAM: His lordship took one up with him. He went straight from the dining room to bed.

  CARSON: Did he, indeed? I’m trusting you to fetch it back when he’s out of his rooms. Why didn’t Thomas tell me last night?

  WILLIAM: He thought it didn’t matter.

  CARSON: Everything matters, William. Remember that or you’ll never make first footman. Never mind butler. Everything matters.

  WILLIAM: Yes, Mr Carson.

  * * *

  12 INT. DRAWING ROOM. DAY.

  The maids are finishing as Mrs Hughes looks in.

  MRS HUGHES: Is the morning room tidy?

  ANNA: Yes, Mrs Hughes.

  MRS HUGHES: Good. I want the dining room given a proper going over, today. You can do it after they’ve had their breakfast.

  She catches sight of Daisy, still bent over the grate.

  MRS HUGHES (CONT’D): Heavens, girl. You’re building a fire, not inventing it. How many have you done?

  DAISY: This is my last ‘til they come downstairs.

  MRS HUGHES: Very well. Now get back to the kitchens before anyone sees you.

  Daisy gathers up her things and scuttles out.

  13 EXT. DOWNTON PARK. DAY.

  * * *

  The newspaper boy is cycling down the drive towards the house, his satchel slung over his shoulder. As he approaches the kitchen entrance, the camera drifts up the facade to find a lovely young face looking out.

  * * *

  14 INT. MARY’S BEDROOM. DAY.

  Lady Mary Crawley, twenty-one, is the family beauty. Lazily, she turns back from the window in her luxurious chamber. A fire crackles merrily in the grate. She walks to the bed and pulls at the bell rope.

  15 INT. SERVANTS’ HALL. DAY.

  The whole household is at breakfast, as the bell rings.

  THOMAS: And they’re off.*

  MRS HUGHES: No rest for the wicked.

  She glances up at the line of bells. So does Mrs Patmore.

  MRS PATMORE: Lady Mary. Are the tea trays ready?

  There is a constant sense of small rivalries. Anna gets up.

  ANNA: All ready, Mrs Patmore. If the water’s boiled. Could you give us a hand to take the other two up?

  A lady’s maid, in a black dress with no apron, snorts.

  O’BRIEN: I’ve got her ladyship’s to carry.

  GWEN: I’ll help.

  She goes too as there is a noise at the back door.

  CARSON: The papers. At last. William.

  16 INT. BACK DOOR. DAY.

  * * *

  William opens the door and the labrador, Pharaoh, comes in. The paperboy is just getting back on his bike.

  * * *

  WILLIAM: You’re late.

  BOY: I know. But …

  WILLIAM: But what?

  BOY: You’ll see.

  And he is gone. William, puzzled, goes back in.

  17 INT. CARSON’S PANTRY. DAY.

  A newspaper is laid out on the filthy board. An iron comes down on it. William is at work. Carson looks in.

  CARSON: Do the Times first. He only reads that at breakfast. And the Sketch for her ladyship. You can manage the others later, if need be.

  He walks away as William turns the page. He is stunned.

  18 INT. SERVANTS’ HALL. DAY.

  Carson’s pantry is off the passage leading to the Servants’ Hall. The butler walks back and sits at the table.

  DAISY: Why are their papers ironed?

  MRS PATMORE: What’s it to you?

  O’BRIEN: To dry the ink, silly. We wouldn’t want his lordship to have hands as black as yours.*

  She gets up and goes as another bell rings on the board above their heads. And another. And another. And another.

  WILLIAM: Mr Carson.

  He is standing holding the paper. Carson looks round.

  WILLIAM (CONT’D): I think you ought to see this.

  19 INT. KITCHEN. DAY.

  Now the room is bustling. Mrs Patmore is putting eggs and bacon into some chafing dishes. Mrs Hughes is with her.

  MRS HUGHES: I can’t make myself believe it.

  MRS PATMORE: Me neither.

  Thomas looks round the door.

  THOMAS: His lordship’s dressed.

  This immediately increases the tension.

  MRS PATMORE: William! Please stop talking and take this tray. And mind the burners are still lit.

  WILLIAM: Yes, Mrs Patmore.

  He picks up the laden tray. Thomas questions him.

  THOMAS: Is it really true?

  WILLIAM: ’fraid so.

  Thomas shares this with the cook who shakes her head.

  MRS PATMORE: Nothing in life is sure.

  20 INT. DINING ROOM. DAY.

  Carson looks at his watch as William hurries in. On the sideboard, the burners beneath the dish-holders have been lit. William places the silver dishes on them.

  CARSON: You’re cutting it fine.

  WILLIAM: Yes, Mr Carson.

  They exchange a look as Carson straightens the newspaper by the place at the head of the table.

  21 INT. GALLERY/STAIRCASE/GREAT HALL. DAY.

  * * *

  A door opens. Robert walks out of his dressing room. With a growl of delight, Pharaoh bounds over to bid his master good morning, and to follow him. Robert, Earl of Grantham, is handsome and clever, but his life isn’t as uncomplicated as one might think. He walks along the gallery and on down the massive staircase into the great hall. Now we see it in all its glory. This could only be the palace of an English nobleman. He hesitates. Does he seem troubled? He goes into the dining room.

  * * *

  22 INT. DINING ROOM. DAY.

  Now the butler stands alone by the sideboard.

  ROBERT: Good morning, Carson.

  CARSON: Good morning, m’lord.

  ROBERT: Is it true? What they’re saying?

  CARSON: I believe so, m’lord.

  Robert takes up a plate. Watched by Carson, he lifts the lids and helps himself to breakfast.

  ROBERT: I’m afraid we’ll know some people on it. Lady Rothes for one. We only saw her a few weeks ago. I don’t suppose there are lists of survivors, yet?

  CARSON: I understand most of the ladies were taken off in time.

  ROBERT: You mean the ladies in first class?

  He looks at the butler who acknowledges this.

  ROBERT (CONT’D): God help the poor devils below decks, on their way to a better life. What a tragedy. He sits, shaking open the paper. On the third page, is a picture of the familiar four-funnelled liner, Titanic.*

  Mary enters with her sister, Edith, twenty. The upstairs echo of the rivalry among the servants, is the relationship between Mary and Edith. They hurry to look over his shoulder.

  EDITH: When Anna told me, I thought she must have dreamed it.

  MARY: Do we know anyone on board?

  She goes to help herself to breakfast. Edith
joins her.

  ROBERT: Your mother knows the Astors—at least she knows him. And we dined with Lady Rothes last month. There are bound to be more.

  EDITH: I thought it was supposed to be unsinkable.

  ROBERT: Every mountain is unclimbable ’til someone climbs it. So every ship is unsinkable until it sinks.

  The door opens again. This time it is his youngest daughter, Lady Sybil, seventeen, who comes in with an envelope.

  SYBIL: Good morning, Papa.

  He nods, pointing at the yellow square.

  ROBERT: What’s that?

  * * *

  SYBIL: Just arrived. A telegram. I told the boy to wait, in case there’s an answer.

  * * *

  Robert takes it, slits it open and reads. He is quite still for a moment, then he stands abruptly and leaves the room. The girls stare at their father’s unfinished plate.*

  23 INT. BEDROOM PASSAGE. DAY.

  As Robert appears, a door opens. O’Brien comes out.

  ROBERT: Is her ladyship awake?

  O’BRIEN: Yes, m’lord. I’m just going to take in her breakfast.

  ROBERT: Thank you.

  He knocks gently, speaking as he does so.

  ROBERT (CONT’D): May I come in?

  24 INT. CORA’S BEDROOM. DAY.