In 1840, one man transformed travel in the British Isles.
His name was George Bradshaw
and his railway guides inspired the Victorians to take to the tracks.
Stop by stop, he told them where to travel,
what to see and where to stay.
Now 170 years later,
I'm making a series of journeys across the length and breadth
of these isles to see what of Bradshaw's Britain remains.
I'm now on the second stage of my journey from London to Devon.
Today's leg takes me across Wiltshire and Somerset
starting with some of the most iconic images of England.
On today's leg,
I visit a tourist hotspot that's been captivating visitors
since the Victorian era.
This is the granddaddy of all castles and cathedrals
and skyscrapers, this is the beginning of architecture.
Thank you very much.
I take to the air...
I think George Bradshaw would have loved this machine,
but he would have been even more amazed to find out
that there would be trains that went faster than this thing does.
And I try my hand at cloth making, the 19th century way.
This is more difficult than it looks.
You're horsing around with me, aren't you?
On this journey, I'm tracking the master engineer
of the Great Western Railway, Isambard Kingdom Brunel.
I began at one of his greatest successes,
London's Paddington Station,
and I'll end my journey in Newton Abbot,
the scene of one of his most brilliant failures.
This leg covers 51 miles.
From Wiltshire, I'll venture into Somerset, finishing up at a station
that for most of the year is a picture of peace and tranquillity.
My first stop is Salisbury, whose cathedral
with its slender spire, has attracted the admiration
of visitors over centuries including the author of my Bradshaw's guide.
"It has the great advantage of being not only uniform in design,
"but offers a complete specimen of the style of that age,
"namely early English",
and in my view that style is one of unsurpassed elegance.
The cathedral was begun in 1220 and the main body completed in 38 years.
An astonishing feat when you consider its scale.
The spire, the tallest in the United Kingdom,
was added over 50 years later
and has proudly presided over the city for 700 years.
The artist John Constable made this vista famous
of what Bradshaw's describes as "a magnificent edifice
"begun by Bishop Poore", but then my Bradshaw strikes a different note
saying "unfortunately the city lies low
"and though its water meadows are pleasant to look at,
"the courts in which the poor live are in a filthy state".
Evidently there was more to Salisbury than met the artist's eye.
Despite being founded in the 13th century,
Salisbury could in fact best be described as a new town,
a "medieval Milton Keynes".
The original settlement, known as Old Sarum,
was located on a hill to the north.
However, in 1220, deteriorating relationships
between the clergy of Old Sarum and the military
led to a new cathedral being built here
and a new city purposefully designed and set around it.
The new city of Salisbury was built on a series of chequers,
a grid system a bit reminiscent of a modern American city.
My Bradshaw's says most of the streets are laid out straight
and regular with rilles four or five foot broad
running through them from the Avon, Nadder and Wylye
and it was these rilles or water channels
that gave so many health problems in Victorian England.
In the summer of 1849, the medieval water system
carrying human waste led to a devastating cholera epidemic
that killed nearly 200 citizens.
I'm meeting Adrian Green, curator of the Salisbury and Wiltshire Museum.
Adrian, good morning. Hello, pleasure to meet you,
I'm getting an extraordinary impression of Salisbury
in the middle 19th century, the poor in their courts
living in filthy conditions, what's Bradshaw's referring to?
He's referring to the places where people used to live
in the middle of the 19th century, which they actually lived in
going right back into Medieval Times. Filthy, filthy conditions.
And there were these rilles, these water channels
criss-crossing the city - a kind of Amsterdam, was it?
That's right, it was often referred to as an English Venice,
but that was somewhat glamorising the situation because these rilles
were basically open sewers, running through the streets.
And so that gave rise to the health problems, to cholera?
That's right, because there was no organised water supply in Salisbury.
People got their water supply from the ground, right by where these rilles or water channels were.
So dirt would seep into the ground and people would then get their
own drinking water from the very same place that all the dirt was.
Was it well understood that the cholera was coming from the water?
People were beginning to understand that. There were local doctors
who were beginning to pick up on the idea that cholera
seemed to be concentrated where these open water channels were.
And they petitioned the local council to do something about it,
but nothing happened so they went one stage higher.
They went to the National Board of Health in London, to the government inspector
and they invited down a man called Thomas Rammell, who did an inquiry
to find out what the causes were of the terrible conditions in Salisbury.
This enquiry was carried out in 1851 and determined that disease
did indeed arise from the rilles,
and recommended that the 700-year-old waterways
be replaced with subterranean brick-built sewers.
A mammoth engineering project which would take years.
However, in the process of removing the old water channels,
the Victorian workmen unearthed hoards of archaeological treasures.
To keep the artefacts in Salisbury, a museum was founded
and that's where the collection is now housed.
And here we have some of drainage collection on display.
It looks like a fantastic collection of everyday items - spoons and knives and forks and scissors.
That's right. It's a real snapshot of daily life,
going back through the Middle Ages.
And in particular, they have a very fine collection of pilgrim badges
which date back to the Medieval period before the Reformation.
And why are these things so nicely preserved?
It's basically because they fell into the mud in the bottom
of the water channels and there was no oxygen there.
It slowed down the process of decay.
Objects made out of things like pewter, for example,
which would normally rot away and deteriorate,
in this case have survived, and to an exceptional level of preservation.
Well, it's really a very fine collection.
Yes, it is an absolutely fine collection.
Let's go and look at some of the others in storage. OK, fantastic.
I thought I'd show you one of my favourite pieces
which is a fabulous chess piece.
That is exquisite. What's that made of?
It's made of walrus ivory. It dates back to the 13th century,
which is about the time that Salisbury Cathedral was constructed.
It's a king piece, as you can see he's wearing his crown,
sitting on horseback
and then protected by a whole series of foot-soldiers.
Absolutely beautiful.
Your collection really is of a national standard, isn't it?
That's right, it is.
We are designated by the Department of Culture, Media and Sport
because our collections are so important
and one of the main reasons is because of this collection.
For more than century and a half railway passengers have been
attracted to Salisbury, not just for its magnificent cathedral,
but also because of its proximity to of one of the world's most enigmatic ancient historic sites,
to which I'm headed now.
Bradshaw's says, "Salisbury Plain is a turfy naked tract.
"In the flattest and most solitary part are the celebrated Druids' Circles of Stonehenge."
Bradshaw's admits that it's ever been
considered the greatest wonder in west of England, but then says
"Stonehenge is apt to disappoint the stranger at the first sight
"and to some it is a trifle indeed."
Well, it may not be built on the scale
of a Victorian railway station, but I'm impressed by its antiquity.
Hello, do you like Stonehenge? Yes!
I'm reading a Victorian guide book, a 19th-century guide book.
It says, "Stonehenge can disappoint the stranger at first sight."
Do you agree with that? Do you find it disappointing?
No, not at all. Where have you come from?
I've come from Florida.
Ah, well, that's very interesting because my guidebook also says
that in the 19th century an American came here and looked at it,
looked up at the stones on top of each other and wondered that
anyone should think anything of it at all. How do you react to that?
He's an idiot!
MICHAEL LAUGHS
So what's your reaction? Have you been moved to see it?
Yeah, I mean, I'm here.
I've paid money to fly across the country to see it.
It's just as astounding as a pyramid.
So you have not been disappointed? Not at all.
Well, you've rescued the reputation of your nation, well done! OK.
I'm so relieved to discover that nowadays an American has come here
and expressed the proper sense of awe.
George Bradshaw ought to know about this.
One of the most recognisable ancient monuments on the planet,
Stonehenge has been a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1986.
The true significance of this antiquity has become
confused in the mists of time, but there are plenty of theories
and I'm hoping that Blue Badge guide and expert David Richards
will be able to enlighten me.
Hello, David. Hello, Michael.
I've been steered here as usual by my Bradshaw's Guide,
which tells me that this is Druids' Circles, is that correct?
Sadly not so. The Druids are a Victorian construct.
This was built by people 5,000 years ago, long before the Druids.
And they had to bring these stones a long distance, that's the wonder of it, isn't it?
It is, astonishing that these stones
weighing 30-40 tonnes should be dragged 25 miles from the north,
some of them coming - the smaller ones - from South Wales.
And the purpose of building this was religious?
Yes, I'm sure it was.
With the setting of the midwinter sun and the rising
of the summer solstice, I'm sure it was used for religious purposes.
And what else? Well, it is one of the biggest,
if not THE biggest ancient cemetery. 200 people are buried there.
The place is very popular with tourists today,
but I think it was in the Victorian era too, wasn't it?
Absolutely, yes. The railways did that.
When the railways come to Salisbury in 1847, everything is transformed.
The South Western Railway advertises in the Times of London,
"Go to Stonehenge. It'll cost you three and sixpence in an open carriage",
an open carriage, good gracious, on a day like this!
And the Victorians came in multitudes.
Day-trippers coming to party and to picnic.
Just like today's tourists, they also wanted a snapshot.
The earliest photograph of the stones dates back to 1853
and was owned by Prince Albert himself,
but by the end of the century thanks to advances in technology
and the canniness of one guide, William Judd,
an instant souvenir was accessible to all.
Armed with a camera, he set up a mobile studio
and darkroom on the site and, for the right price of course,
he would oblige visitors with a souvenir print.
Bradshaw's also tells me that there are about 140 stones,
but it's impossible to count them and if you count them twice
and get the same number twice, that's unlucky.
Well, that's a myth which is still told today.
Is it really? But the Victorians, mind you,
when they came they got into all sorts of trouble
because people had read that, and they'd come here,
they'd say "I'm going to crack this,"
and they'd go round and they'd chalk the stones,
so the stones were covered in numbers,
which local people didn't like. Victorian vandalism. Oh, absolutely.
It wasn't good, and so...
but the worst vandalism of all was that
people would arrive from London, I suspect, with hammers
and they would whack the stones and take a chunk of it back home.
And so the railways and Stonehenge ultimately led to
the Ancient Monuments Protection Act of 1882.
What is the importance of Stonehenge in the human story?
This is the granddaddy of all castles and cathedrals
and skyscrapers, this is the beginning of architecture.
I could linger all day by these enduringly fascinating stones,
but I must continue.
I'm returning to Salisbury to travel on an alternative line
to the Great Western.
I'm on my way now to Yeovil Junction.
My guide tells me that the town has a fine Gothic church
and a large market which occurs on Fridays.
In the vicinity is Brympton House, the old seat of the Fane family.
Well, the present owners have invited me to dinner.
There has been a manor at Brympton since 1220.
However, the current house dates from the early 15th century,
with Elizabethan and Jacobean additions.
It's built in its entirety from local Somerset hamstone,
which gives the house its mellow, honeyed hue.
What a beautiful house!
I'm meeting current owner and old acquaintance, Bill Glossop.
Bill, how good to see you.
Hello, nice to see you. Long time since we've met.
Long time. Do come in. Thank you so much.
One of the most interesting things about the house is this
wonderful terrace which...people who come here for weddings
love to come straight out of the wedding room
and have a glass of champagne on here.
It was built by Lady Georgiana Fane in Victorian times
and it was she who sold the land for the railway
which runs between Yeovil and Taunton which has now been made into a road.
The spread of the Victorian railway network was largely dependent
on local landowners like Lady Georgiana
agreeing to sell their land.
Whether they championed this new mode of transport or held out
in order to make substantial gain, without their agreement,
large swathes of countryside would have remained inaccessible.
Thank you so much, Bill, for having us. Lovely to see you all.
And you. Cheers!
It's a new day and before I leave Yeovil,
I have further exploring to do.
Bradshaw's tell me that Yeovil is an ancient town,
the seat of a considerable glove trade.
Nowadays the town has its finger in a bigger pie
and for a rural county, manufacturing here has really taken off.
Yeovil is now home to the UK's sole helicopter producer, AgustaWestland.
The company's origins can be traced back to the late 19th century
when it was founded by the Petter brothers, Ernest and Percy.
Westland helicopters has a particular place
in my personal experience and indeed in political history
because an order for helicopters led to a massive row
in Margaret Thatcher's Cabinet, the resignation of Michael Heseltine
who stormed out of the Cabinet room,
and very nearly the demise of Margaret Thatcher herself.
'Today I'm meeting up with employee of 20 years, Ted Udall,
'to find out how this firm took flight.'
Ted, good morning. Morning, Michael.
I believe this Westland goes all the way back to Victorian times?
Yes, indeed - the 1860s.
It started off as a little hardware shop in centre of Yeovil.
It gradually expanded from there into stoves,
and then later on into agricultural machinery.
When did they get into aircraft?
Well, it wasn't until the start of the First World War
when Lloyd George made a speech in the House where they needed more armaments,
and more support for the war. And the management of the company
decided to write off to the Admiralty and the War Office
and the Admiralty said, "Well, please come and see us."
From that they said, "Well, you're a high-tech company, why don't you build aeroplanes?"
The firm was originally commissioned to build 30 Short patrol seaplanes.
Production was so successful that by 1918 the Petters had built their own airfield
and 1,100 planes had rolled off the production line.
With the end of the war, they diversified into civil aircraft,
but peace was to be short-lived and during the Second World War
they manufactured the most iconic of British fighters - the Spitfire.
But now the business is helicopters.
Yes, indeed, since 1946.
So give me a quick rundown of which helicopters you deal with.
In here we've got Sea Kings which are being refurbished.
They've been in service quite a long time now.
We've got Merlin helicopters on this side
which are the current Royal Navy ones.
And we've got the Lynx and its replacement, the Wildcat.
My Bradshaw's guide mentions that Yeovil was once famous for glove-making.
It really is a long way from glove-making to aircraft.
Yes, it certainly is, but of course that was one of reasons why
the company decided that they could go into aircraft making anyway.
One of the local skills, part of the glove-making industry, is sewing.
And aircraft, in those very early days,
you had to spread canvas over the wooden frame and sew it together.
So that gave the company that confidence.
'The early success of the factory was very much linked
'to its proximity to Yeovil's complex rail network,
'so I'm taking to the skies to survey how it looks today.
'My lift - a twin-engine AW109, used for VIP travel and air ambulances.'
Riding alongside the train now.
It seems that Yeovil once was pretty much criss-crossed by railways.
Yes, indeed it was. The original railway came in from the west
and then the other line came in from the north to the south.
And there were, at one point, four separate railway stations,
including the one on the main east-west line
which runs a couple of miles south of the town. Amazing.
I think George Bradshaw, who loved engineering and innovation,
would have loved this machine,
but he would have been even more amazed to find out
that there would be trains that went faster than this thing does.
He certainly would, yes. The technology has moved on a pace.
Sadly, it's back down to earth for me as I continue the journey westwards.
I'm leaving Yeovil from its only other surviving station,
Pen Mill, where I've rejoined Brunel's Great Western railway.
My next stop is Castle Cary which my Bradshaw's tells me
has the remains of a castle built by William de Percheval in the reign of King Stephen.
I've always thought it a very beautiful name
and I assumed that it must be one of England's sleepiest stations.
It's certainly a picture of peace and tranquillity.
And I'm told that on any normal day,
Castle Cary is used by fewer than 800 passengers.
'However for a few days in June most years,
'that figure rises dramatically.
'I'm going to meet station manager Dave Martin to find out why.'
Dave, hello.
Congratulations on a lovely station, and a very quiet one too.
Thank you very much.
It seems to be quite quiet today, but it's not always.
We're the closest station to the site for the Glastonbury festival
so it turns into quite an entertaining place to be.
Lots of people coming by train?
Absolutely. About 18,000 people coming through the station to go to the festival.
It's hard to imagine in this little station.
It is. It takes a lot of organising,
and they all want to go back on the same day as well.
And they'd all be well behaved, of course.
The majority are.
One or two seem to think they can turn up without a ticket.
So, what ploys do they try?
Occasionally, a few people will come from very local stations
that aren't that well populated.
And somebody came along who'd obviously glanced out of the window
at Bruton station that they'd gone through, but not quite caught the name.
We asked him where he'd come from and he said Buxton
so we were quite happy to charge him £96.
Long before the music fans began to pass through here,
Castle Cary was better known for its textile industry.
By the 19th century,
the town specialised in producing a hard-wearing
luxury fabric made, remarkably, using horsehair.
And one company survives manufacturing the material
just as it did 140 years ago.
Anna Smith is the managing director.
Anna, hello. Hello, hi. It's good to see you.
So this is horsehair.
I wondered whether I would recognise it, but I certainly do.
Yes, that's right. It's the tail hair from horses, working horses,
live animals that have their tails cut.
And what do you actually do with it? We weave it into upholstery fabric.
And what are the advantages of that?
It's a very durable, hard-wearing fabric.
It'll last more than 100 years if it's properly upholstered.
And how long has this factory been going?
The company's been going since 1837. It was started by John Boyd,
he was a travelling Scotsman who came down to this area.
How unusual is it now to produce horsehair?
There's only two of us left in the world, that's us
and there's a company in France and that's it now.
I'm intrigued to see this industrial process.
Can we go in and have a look at it? Yes, certainly.
'First, the hair has to be straightened.'
That looks like a bed of nails. I'm not required to lie on it, am I?
No, but we pull the hair through it. It's called a hackle.
What's the technique, Duncan?
Hold it tight there, start with the ends, gradually pull them through.
Mind if I have a go at that?
Start with the ends. Yeah.
Ooh, that's not so good, is it?
This is more difficult that it looked.
You're horsing around with me, aren't you?
It takes a little bit of practice.
So how long do you do this for, Duncan?
Just a couple of minutes. It depends.
You can feel when it goes through easily.
It's tougher than it looks, actually.
Ah, that's better.
I'm getting better, aren't I? Oh, yes.
How I learned to hackle. Thereby hangs a tail. It'll do.
It needs a little bit more work before the weavers get it!
'I think I had better leave it to the pros.
'The hair is then dyed, a process which takes a week.
'The length of the fabric is made up from cotton,
'silk or linen threads wound on what's called a warper
'whilst the bundles of horsehair are placed directly on the loom
'and each single tail hair is picked out to make up the width of the fabric.'
I've stepped into the 19th century. This is amazing!
Yes, not much has changed.
It's like a museum, but it's in production.
Historically, children were used to pick the hair out of the bundles,
but the 1870 Education Act abolished child labour in favour of schooling.
So Boyd diversified by inventing and patenting special looms
to mimic the skills of little fingers.
Remarkably, those machines are still in use today,
now powered by electricity in place of steam.
So you have the horsehair across the width
and the yarn to give you the length direction.
Can I touch that? It's a lovely feel to it, isn't it?
I don't want to put my fingers in there, though.
It's a beautiful pattern. This is really lovely.
Yes, the pattern dates back to about 1900
so it's still the original pattern.
The looms are the same speed as hand-weaving,
so they only weave two-three metres per day, per loom.
Each hair is put in individually and we have 90 hairs in one inch,
so the loom has to go backwards and forwards 90 times just to produce one inch of cloth.
You're producing something really special here.
What kind of uses did it used to be put to in Victorian times?
It was used mainly for upholstery,
but it was also used in railway carriages because it was so durable.
Well, I think this would have been fit for use
in the royal railway carriage of Queen Victoria.
Definitely!
George Bradshaw might be amazed that in the 21st century
we're still using Victorian sewers
and there's a factory still producing horsehair.
But more astonishing is that engines that once powered agricultural equipment
have evolved into helicopters employed in our national defence.
On the next leg of my journey,
I'll explore a church that moves in mysterious ways.
That's extraordinary. It really is moving from side to side.
I'll find out just what it takes to run a 19th-century signal box.
I had no idea that what a signalman had to do
was so responsible and so physical.
And I'll summon all my strength to shift a 110-tonne steam locomotive.
She's moving.
Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd