For Victorian Britons, George Bradshaw was a household name.
At a time when railways were new,
Bradshaw's guidebook inspired them to take to the tracks.
I'm using a Bradshaw's Guide to understand how trains
transformed Britain, its landscape, its industry,
society and leisure time.
As I crisscross the country 150 years later,
it helps me to discover the Britain of today.
I'm now more than halfway through my journey
travelling to the south west of London.
Today I'll visit two palaces, one famous and one forgotten.
I'll discover how Queen Victoria was an accident of birth
and learn how her subjects
changed their attitudes to duelling and disabilities.
Using my Bradshaw's Guide, I've taken in the beauty of Kent,
and followed a route south of London into Surrey.
Racing through the Home Counties, I'll now be visiting royals
and reformers before ending riverside in Henley-on-Thames.
Today I discover forgotten royal histories in Esher,
follow in the footsteps of the Victorian tourist at Hampton Court,
pass through Teddington, and defend my honour on a London common.
I'm let loose on the longest vine in the world.
Have you ever allowed an incompetent like me to do this?
No. No.
I get fired up like an early Victorian gent...
I've hit my man.
..and find out how the course of British history was set in Esher.
If Charlotte had not died, Victoria would never have been conceived
and we would never have had the Victorian era.
It's early morning as I begin my journey.
My first stop will be Hampton Court where I will be visiting the palace.
Bradshaw's reminds us that Cardinal Wolsey,
"Created great envy at court," when he built it.
So much so that, unsurprisingly, King Henry VIII took it over.
"Numerous sovereigns since have made it their temporary abode
"and the last who resided here was George II,
"since which the Crown reserves the right of resuming possession,"
a surprising thought to us, who think of the palace as a museum
and a film set.
Hampton Court Station is
the terminus of a branch of the South West Main Line.
It arrived here in 1849,
enabling visitors to visit Hampton Court Palace, which had been
open to the public by Queen Victoria in the previous decade.
The railways unleashed mass tourism, as sightseers
from across the country were enabled to visit spectacular locations.
Here, the original Tudor palace had been repeatedly extended...
Thank you very much.
..offering courtyards, royal chambers,
galleries and beautiful gardens to explore.
Good morning. Good morning, sir. Thank you very much. My pleasure.
I'm here before the crowds to meet
the Curator of Historic Buildings, Daniel Jackson.
Hello, Dan. Nice to meet you.
Judging by the dimensions, this magnificent hall must be
what's described in my Bradshaw's as Wolsey's Hall.
Did he, in fact, establish it?
So, it's a very complicated history.
There's an awful lot of academic debate as to
whether this is Wolsey's Hall or Henry's Hall.
But, I think we're coming down
on the side that this is probably Henry's Hall.
The tapestries on the wall are purchased by Henry,
the roof certainly is finished by Henry.
When was Hampton Court opened up to mass tourism?
It's not until 1838.
Queen Victoria throws open the doors to the masses, free of charge,
and from that point you very quickly
have a huge number
of people visiting.
It's over 100,000
in the first ten years,
up to over 300,000 by the end of the 19th century.
So a huge number of people coming into the palace,
people from all walks of life, so you have wonderful
stories of this becoming a hive of cockneydom,
and you have lots of people visiting in hobnailed boots, which causes
chaos for the floors, which is
why we have very few original floors left, in fact.
But Hampton Court is somewhere anyone can visit and enjoy,
and that's true in the 19th century, as it is today.
Another notable attraction which Bradshaw's is making me
want to see is the Great Vine. Which way would that be?
Just back the way you came, and then through Clock Court.
Thank you very much, Dan. My pleasure.
The Great Vine, which Bradshaw's records, was reputedly
planted in 1768, and I'm going to find it,
and the lady charged with its welfare, Jill Strudwick.
Hello, Jill. Oh, hello. How do you do?
I was last here, I think, about 55 years ago. I came as a child.
Oh, goodness, did you? I have the best memory of it.
Ah, well, did you get to taste the grapes? I certainly didn't.
Oh, well, we're really onto autumn now,
but I've just found one or two little bits left over
that haven't been pruned.
If you'd like, you're very welcome to taste some of the very
last this year before we start with the next job.
I would love to.
And they've got the lovely bloom on,
which you don't get in the supermarkets.
I'm thrilled to try this. Ah.
Bradshaw's tells me they're Black Hamburg grapes, is that correct?
Yes, that's right.
It's a very old variety, so, sweet dessert grapes,
but you will find they've got pips in.
So sweet, they're lovely. Yes, we like to think so.
And that's because I'm always trying to pick them ripe.
RADIO: 'Once again the world's oldest grapevine
'is ready to give the world its fruit.
'If you like really luscious grapes, take some of these.
'They'll cost you six shillings a pound, but who cares about that
'because the money goes to charity.'
Now, you have the most extraordinary,
the most wonderful title. What is it?
Well, I'm the vine keeper. How long have you been the vine keeper?
Oh, oh, oh, am I going to admit to 30 years
if you don't tell anybody else?
Really? And do you live on the premises?
Yeah, yeah, I live just over there behind the wall.
Grown in a very traditional way, under glass and with heat,
the Hampton Court specimen appears in the Guinness Book Of Records
as the largest productive vine in the world.
Bradshaw's tells me it's 110 feet long, is that still true?
Well, when I had to measure it for the Guinness Book Of Records,
it was 120. Oh, that's reasonable.
Yes, there's not much in that, is there, really?
Ten foot in a century and a half. And what do you have to do with the vine?
Well, it's so large that it's like the Forth Bridge,
as I finish one operation, it's time to start the next,
and the next thing is the pruning.
I don't normally allow it but you're welcome
to come and help me, if you'd like.
Well, I'd be privileged. Thank you very much indeed.
We're doing something rather special today, actually.
Each autumn, I cut this year's growth back by about half,
and that will encourage it to grow a bit more next year, and that's
how we're gradually increasing the length of some of these
branches, the main framework.
That's really very exciting, so, erm, ooh,
am I going to be entrusted to do this? Yes, you're going to be
entrusted with my secateurs to make
the first cut for this autumn's pruning.
Have you ever allowed an incompetent like me to do this?
No, no, no, I haven't.
No, normally I wouldn't let anybody prune the vine,
except me and my deputy.
I feel slightly queasy cutting a 250-year-old vine.
Oh, tough as old boots. Here we go. There we are, an expert already.
Jill, do you know, in all the years that I've been
using my Bradshaw's Guide, I don't remember before
being guided to a living thing that is still alive today.
Oh, what an interesting thought. Mmm.
For the next leg of my journey, I'm boarding
the train at Hampton Court...
..for Surbiton...
..where I change to travel one stop south.
My next stop will be Esher, where I'm going to visit Claremont,
a house which, according to Bradshaw's, "Has a melancholy
"interest from the death of the lamented Princess Charlotte, in 1817.
"The palace has since belonged to her husband,
"the King of the Belgians, who subsequently appropriated it
"to the use of the exiled King Louis Philippe,
"who left France in 1848."
It seems that swathes of 19th-century history are to be found
under a single roof.
Many pass through Esher, on the outskirts
of London, on their way to the racecourse at Sandown Park.
Just outside the town is Claremont House,
built in the late 18th century for Sir Robert Clive of India.
He commissioned the famous landscape architect Capability Brown
to position the house in a remodelled park.
Since the 1930s, it's been a school and I'm meeting Pamela Rider,
who's worked here for 27 years, to hear its intriguing history.
Pamela, hello. Hello. Nice to meet you. What a wonderful house.
I had no idea it existed.
Yes, aren't we lucky? It's really wonderful.
Please come inside. I'll show you some wonderful parts.
In 1816, Claremont House was given as a wedding gift to
Princess Charlotte, the granddaughter of the reigning monarch, George III,
and daughter of his regent, George IV,
on her marriage to the German Prince Leopold.
Pamela, I never saw a classroom with such beautiful decor.
What was this room at one time?
It was the bedroom, in 1816, of Princess Charlotte,
and Princess Charlotte and Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg
had moved here on their marriage.
Then she gets pregnant and the birth was to occur in this very bedroom.
Yes, she went into labour on the 3rd of November,
and the birth went on and on, and it took 50 hours.
Eventually, the baby was born, but it was stillborn
and, very unexpectedly, during the night, Charlotte died.
So in one night, Prince Leopold had lost, not only his wife, but his son
and his reason for being in England, which was to be the prince consort.
What was the impact on the British public of this double tragedy?
They were devastated.
Everybody put black armbands on, everybody suddenly had cups
and saucers with black round them,
the churches were full of mourning at the time of the funeral.
Now, what impact does that have on British history,
on the history of the monarchy?
Oh, enormous, because suddenly we have no proper heir to the throne.
Since Charlotte had been an only child, the line passing through
her father, the Prince Regent and future George IV, came to an end.
The pressure came on to the other children of George III
to provide an heir.
All George III's children,
he had 12 of them still living at that time,
but none of them had legitimate heirs,
so all the princes and the princesses have got to get married.
And the Duke of Kent, who is the fourth son,
had in fact got a mistress out in Brussels whom he'd had for 28 years.
He was extremely happy with her,
but he agreed that he, too, would find a wife
and Leopold suggested that he might marry his widowed sister,
Victoire of Meiningen, and the child that was born was Victoria.
It's absolutely amazing to think that, in this room,
the history of England changed.
If Charlotte had not died, Victoria would never have been conceived,
and we would never have had the Victorian era.
In the middle of the 19th century,
another remarkable chapter was to unfold at Claremont House.
25 years after the French Revolution,
the monarchy had been re-established in France.
However, in 1848, further unrest caused King Louis Philippe,
and his wife Queen Marie-Amelie, to flee for their lives.
They made it to British shores, and were offered Claremont House
as a safe haven.
All the sons came as well and their children.
I don't know how they all packed in.
There were 70 of them
and so they had to make this into their dining room.
So they all ate in here. Does Louis Philippe live in the house for long?
Not really, because he dies within two years.
I think he's very much a broken man.
And then, where was he buried?
That's a very extraordinary story, really,
because his wife, Marie-Amelie, wanted him
to be buried on Catholic ground,
which was quite difficult round here,
but there was a Roman Catholic living in Weybridge,
called Charles Taylor, and he had built himself a little chapel,
with a vault underneath where he was going to have his family buried
and he offered this vault to the Orleans family and so, actually,
amazingly, the last King of the French was buried in Weybridge.
This house has astonished me.
How often on my travels have I talked about the Victorian age?
And yet, had it not been for the death of Charlotte,
the forgotten princess, Victoria would not have reigned.
She might not even have been conceived
and we'd be talking instead about the Charlottian era.
But, as it is, I don't suppose that
there's one British person in a thousand who's ever heard of her.
My overnight stop is going to be Wimbledon.
Bradshaw's mentions the Rose And Crown.
It won't be a palace like Hampton Court or Claremont,
but it can be a rose for Charlotte, and a crown for Victoria.
The station is a busy interchange between rail,
London Underground and tram services.
Wimbledon town surrounds the station,
and in the old village up the hill, I find the Rose And Crown.
The earliest recorded mention of this coach inn is 1659,
and I just imagine it then, it would have been maybe the first stop
for travellers out of London, going down to Southampton or Portsmouth.
And now it's become a local pub in a highly populated area,
and the main reason for that change - the railways.
It's a new day and I'm leaving my hotel,
headed towards one of the most famous green spaces in the country.
Not the All England Lawn Tennis Club, but Wimbledon Common.
Today it's a favourite place for dog walkers
and the setting for The Wombles' adventures.
But in previous centuries, it witnessed more violent activity.
"Wimbledon," says Bradshaw's,
"Was formerly celebrated in the annals of duelling, which has
"now become synonymous with our notions of such killing being murder.
"And like many other customs of uncivilised beings,
"is now condemned."
I can scarcely imagine peering down the barrel of a gun into
another man's hating eyes, or indeed, squeezing the trigger in cold blood.
Duelling became established in the late 16th century as a way for
the upper classes to resolve personal disputes and to defend reputations.
Adherence to a very particular code of conduct was held to set them
apart from their social inferiors.
I'm meeting Professor Clive Emsley
of the Open University.
Clive, good to see you.
My Bradshaw's celebrates the fact that duelling has
become beyond the pale.
Was it quite a problem? Had it become quite an epidemic?
I wouldn't say it was an epidemic, but it was
something that gentlemen did.
Was Wimbledon, then, a favourite place for this?
Wimbledon Common was unquestionably a favourable spot
and even prime ministers fought to the north of the common.
William Pitt the Younger fought a duel here in 1798.
So, were people killed in these duels
or did gentlemen just meet and call it a day?
Very often, it was enough for a gentleman to appear,
and sometimes they fired their pistols in the air.
But nonetheless there were fatalities.
Oh, there were fatalities, yeah.
What was the most celebrated duel?
Probably the one that's stuck in everyone's mind was
Lord Cardigan against Captain Tuckett in 1840,
Lord Cardigan being the man who led the Light Brigade at Balaclava.
And what was the cause of their dispute?
Tuckett had written a few articles critical of Cardigan.
I mean, Cardigan was the worst kind of snob
and if you crossed Cardigan you are really asking for trouble.
THUNDER ROLLS
RAIN FALLS
Once challenged to the duel,
Captain Tuckett met with Earl Cardigan on Wimbledon Common.
In accordance with etiquette, each was accompanied by his second.
They were armed with duelling pistols of equal match.
Gentlemen, I design to resolve the affair in this manner.
Then you'll each take six good paces, turn and fire.
One,
two,
three,
four,
five,
six.
Cardigan shot and wounded Captain Tuckett.
I've hit my man.
Cardigan was charged with intent to murder,
but acquitted on a technicality.
The fact that he was arrested showed that public attitudes were changing.
Subsequent trial verdicts, alongside pressure from Queen Victoria,
put an end to the practice.
By the 1850s, the duel was as good as dead.
Back at Wimbledon Station, I'm taking a train a little further west,
to Teddington, which, like Wimbledon, is a leafy Outer London suburb.
What makes us civilised?
Is it literature, architecture, institutions of government,
maybe liberty, or fairness?
As I hope to discover when I leave this train at Teddington,
it dawned on the Victorians quite late
that one of the marks of civilisation might be the way a society treated
people with special needs.
As I leave the train,
I'm making my way to an institution built at the time of my Bradshaw's
by a Victorian Reformer, John Langdon Down,
and his wife, Mary.
He was a distinguished physician, who, in 1858, took up
a post in the then unpopular and ostracised field of mental health,
becoming Medical Superintendent of the Earlswood Asylum in Surrey.
The first to classify the condition now known as Down's syndrome,
he revolutionised the treatment of those with learning disabilities
and, in 1868, built his own facility here at Normansfield.
I'm meeting Ian Jones-Healey,
the archivist of the Langdon Down Museum,
which is housed here.
Hello, Ian. Hello there. Very good to see you.
Ian, first of all, I have to ask
about this extraordinary model of the ship.
This was created by James Henry Pullen,
who was a resident at the Royal Earlswood Asylum
when John Langdon Down was working there.
And although James Henry Pullen had certain difficulties
with hearing and speech,
he was able to make three-dimensional models
from very little information, perhaps a picture in the
Illustrated London News, so he created the Great Eastern,
which the original was
built by Isambard Kingdom Brunel of Millwall on the banks of the Thames.
Yes, it's a remarkable, a splendid piece of work, isn't it?
In the 19th century,
what are the attitudes towards people with learning difficulties?
Certainly for the upper middle classes
and upper classes sometimes it could be a matter of shame
and people could be kept very much in secret.
What was the new approach that John Langdon Down brought?
Well, he set up a revolutionary institution here.
He took people mostly from the upper classes
because he had to have an income.
He didn't have any state funding and he decided that
the whole regime should be much more enlightened.
You should be dressed properly, you should have good food to eat,
you should have stimulation, you should have walks that you could
go out on and, I think, most of all, you should have some
form of education, and perhaps learn a trade,
if you wanted to or were able to.
Can you give me an example of how
patients benefitted from this approach?
Well, they would have had a lifestyle that was,
as far as possible, almost like a home from home.
Mary Arnott is an example of somebody that came to
live at Normansfield.
She lived into her late 50s,
which was quite rare in that time for somebody with her condition.
I think that's testament, may be, to the
quality of life that she was enjoying here.
I didn't know about John Langdon Down.
Have we forgotten about him?
I think we're probably rediscovering him.
I think he stands next to some of the great Victorian reformers
of the period, somebody that really wanted to
improve the lives of people with disabilities, and certainly did so.
In the 1950s, Normansfield became part of the National Health Service
and in 1997, it closed as a hospital.
Today, in a wing of the original building,
is the Langdon Down Centre, home of the Down's Syndrome Association,
which provides workshops, drama groups
and a support network for people with Down's syndrome.
One of John Langdon Down's legacies is the beautiful Victorian playhouse,
which is listed, and here I meet Kate Powell.
Hello, Kate. Hello.
I'm Michael. Hi.
How long have you been coming to work at the association?
I've been coming here for 15 years.
I get involved in giving talks, I get involved in big meetings
and AGMs, and I always get involved in any kind of raising awareness
for people with Down's syndrome.
And here you are, clutching a magazine...
Yes. ..of which you are the editor.
I am. This is the Down2Earth magazine.
Thank you very much. This is what I do.
What sort of things are in it and how does it all work?
It all works with people's letters, they also do art,
creative art, poetry, they also put in people's photography.
It's a very fine magazine,
and I gather you have made a speech at the United Nations, is that true?
It is true. What were you speaking about?
I was speaking about a project called WorkFit.
It encourages people to be in the world of work.
How did you feel speaking to the United Nations?
Proud, I felt very proud.
And what about nervous?
No, I wasn't nervous at all.
Not nervous? Never!
What do you think of the work that John Langdon Down did?
Well, the work that he did encouraged people with
learning disabilities and Down's syndrome, he loved people,
he helped people, with his work,
and I think he was a very good man.
Excellent, thank you very much indeed.
Perhaps it's not surprising that Princess Charlotte
has been largely forgotten.
She died at a young age and the era in which she would have reigned
has become inextricably linked to her cousin, Queen Victoria.
It's harder to understand that, whilst we remember reformers
like William Wilberforce and Lord Shaftesbury,
few of us could name a man who was a visionary
and a pioneer in the field of disability.
The time has come to add
the name of John Langdon Down to the Victorian roll of honour.
Next time, I attempt to pull my weight on the River Thames...
Push on the legs, hands right. Sorry, I've lost it completely.
..discover the radical implications
of one of the country's first universities for women...
I think it really was a starting point.
By having an education, by having a choice, they demanded other choices.
..and let off some steam at a vintage funfair.
HE LAUGHS
Oh! This is horrible! Oh! Enough! Enough!