Great British Railway Journeys (2010) s05e03 Episode Script

1 In 1840, one man transformed travel in Britain.
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 go, what to see and where to stay.
And now, 110 years later, I'm aboard for a series of rail adventures across the United Kingdom to see what of Bradshaw's Britain remains.
I'm at the halfway point of my journey around northwest England that began with the historic grime of Manchester's mills and will end with the natural beauty of Derbyshire's peaks.
Today, 19th-century tracks will take me to an ancient tradition, a medieval tower and Victorian tourism.
On this leg, I hear about unscrupulous Victorian grocers There was a lot of food adulteration that went on.
Oatmeal was often mixed with gravel or sand.
This appears to be about 90 per cent gravel.
I have to hail a train at a request stop Success! and I learn of King James's beefiest knighting.
He took his sword and dubbed this loin of beef.
"Arise, Sir Loin!" and everybody went My journey began in Manchester, headed west to sunlit Merseyside, took the sea air in Southport, and will now traverse Lancashire towards Bradford and turn south to steely South Yorkshire, ending in Derbyshire, where the father of the railway, George Stephenson, has his eternal rest.
Today's leg starts in Preston, goes east to Pleasington, takes in Church and Oswaldtwistle, Hebden Bridge and Rochdale.
My first stop is Preston, whose pageantry scores a mention in Bradshaw's.
"One of its most peculiar institutions is its ancient guild held every 20 years, at which the aristocracy of the country have been wont to assemble as participants in the festivities.
" Toffs and tradition.
You can't beat it.
Striding the River Ribble, Preston's Victorian port, the Albert Edward Dock, shipped Lancashire coal and the textiles produced by the town's 40 cotton mills.
I'm heading to the market square to find out how the town's guilds, the associations of merchants, artisans and tradesmen, have come together for centuries to celebrate trade in Preston.
Emma Heslewood is curator at the Harris Museum.
- Hello.
- Lovely to meet you.
And you.
Bradshaw's tells me that a guild was held every 20 years.
What is a guild? Preston is the last surviving guild celebration, and it dates back to 1179 when Preston got its first Royal Charter from Henry ll.
The guild was actually an organisation of merchants who were parts of guild companies like tanners and butchers.
They formed an organisation called a guild, which was a right that was given in the charter to have a guild.
It was a list of anyone who could live, work and trade in a market town like Preston.
Bradshaw's mentions festivities.
What were they? Processions.
All the guild members would come to Preston and they would process in their finery to the Guild Court.
The guild membership also included the local landowners and aristocracy who owned property in Preston.
There's some great descriptions of guilds in 1762 and '82, of all of the diamonds and bling.
What would the guild have been like at the time of my Bradshaw's Guide, the 1862 guild? The 1862 guild was an interesting one because it was the first time after the real introduction of railways, so the railway companies started to do deals.
People came to Preston and Preston became extremely overcrowded.
You actually had 100,000 visitors in 1862.
The Harris Museum is hosted within an impressive 19th-century neoclassical building.
It holds the largest collection of Preston Guild memorabilia.
One of the things that's really special about the Preston Guild is that we have a full set of these guild books, which are the lists of all the guild members.
The first one that survives is from 1397, but we actually have guild books from 1542, every 20 years, and we actually have the guild book from 1862 which records all the people who attended the Guild Court of that year.
Isn't that the most beautiful presentation? Lovely page.
Yes.
Every guild book follows the same sort of format and has this decorative page which says, "The Guild Merchant of the Borough of Preston in the county of Lancaster, holden here on Monday, the first day of September, being the Monday after the feast of the Decollation of St John the Baptist," which is the traditional point when the guild is held.
So, here, the first one is Peter Abbot of Preston, son of William of Waltney Dale, formerly of Preston, weaver, deceased, and all of his children.
So you have a really interesting document because it gives you an insight into the different jobs and occupations of people in the 19th century.
And there's something even more interesting to show you over here.
We have this amazing advert which was for the highlight of Preston Guild of 1862, which was the appearance of the great Blondin.
Now, Blondin was the tightrope walker.
"Blondin, the hero of Niagara, the wonder of his age, has the honour to announce that he will appear in Preston on Monday evening of Guild Week, and will make his wonderful night ascent on a high rope amidst the most gorgeous and magnificent display of fireworks.
" So this was the spectacle that hundreds of thousands of people came to Preston to see on the evening of 1st September.
- Tightropes and fireworks.
Wonderful.
- Yes.
Conjuring such images of high-wire acts, fireworks and aristocrats, it might be easy to forget that Preston Guild Week is primarily about merchants and tradespeople.
To refocus, I'm on my way to Preston's marina to meet businessman Chris Miller.
Chris, yours is a family business, is it? What do you do? We're into moving awkward loads.
Transporting them and lifting them.
That's what we do.
And how far back does the family business go, moving these awkward loads? Well, we say 1837.
My great-great-grandfather came down from Nether Kellet in 1837 with a horse and cart and he made a start, and then my great-grandfather carried on through the late 1800s.
Then my grandfather carried on, and then my father, and I'm still moving awkward loads.
And what sort of loads were they moving in the old days? Cotton-weaving looms were very, very big in Lancashire and we moved hundreds, thousands of those.
My own career started with moving looms out of Lancashire to India and Pakistan from where we now import all the textiles, of course, and the Lancashire cotton industry is no more.
Are you or your family involved in the guild every 20 years? Yes.
The first mention of our family being connected with the guild was in 1882 when my grandfather on my mother's side was in attendance.
Have you been involved in the guild? Well, I've been involved, personally, in the last three guilds.
It's not a very good thing to say that.
They only happen every 20 years.
I have a feeling you've got a bit of an honour.
I was fortunate enough to be nominated for a Guild Burgess and I accepted.
It's not the honour that you might imagine that it is.
Once upon a time, you could drive your sheep up Fisher Gate, but I haven't any sheep and we don't do that any more.
So why have we met in the marina? Because I thought it was an opportunity to show you what we still do.
This is what we've been doing for 175 years, and we're still doing it.
We're moving awkward loads.
And what could be more awkward, some would say, than a boat? OK, Jack.
Take it away.
- Making light work of that.
- Yes.
Round she comes.
You can see they've got a lot of experience of doing this.
It's done by hand signals.
Nothing left to chance.
Touching the water.
Hasn't even created a ripple.
No.
We don't like to make a splash.
It's not good news when we make a splash.
Chris, beautiful work.
I think you've earned your place in the next guild.
The next guild, 2032.
- See you there.
- We'll see how we go on.
Although I'm tempted to continue my journey by boat, I've backtracked to Preston Station, from where I'll head east on Northern Rail toward Blackburn.
I shall be getting off at Pleasington.
There's a rather puzzling entry in my Bradshaw's.
"Close at hand is Hoghton Tower, the old seat of the Hoghtons.
" "Here, James I knighted the sirloin of beef.
" A meaty story to crown this part of my journey.
- Hello there.
- Excuse me.
I'm getting off at Pleasington, which I think is a request stop.
- It is, yes.
- Could we stop at Pleasington? - I'll make the arrangements for you.
- Thank you very much indeed.
According to Bradshaw's, Hoghton has a daily arrival and departure to and from London, but since those glory days, Hoghton Station has closed, and so Pleasington it must be.
Hoghton Tower is the ancestral home of the de Hoghton family, descended directly from Harvey de Walter, a companion to William the Conqueror.
What a magnificent pile.
A great looming castle leering over the plain beneath.
The manor, which was originally 12th century, was rebuilt and redesigned in the 1500s and I'm hoping the current occupant, the 14th baronet, Sir Bernard de Hoghton, will know why.
- Bernard.
- Michael, good to see you.
- Welcome to Hoghton.
- What a wonderful house.
What happened to the old fortification? Well, in 1560 Thomas de Hoghton decided that he really didn't want to go on living in a cold, damp castle.
He was a figure of the Renaissance and wanted that style of life which really changed from the Middle Ages.
During the 18th and 19th centuries, the de Hoghtons were busy in Parliament as prominent members of the Whig Party and decamped from the house.
Eventually they would return, perhaps after some prompting by a popular author.
We think that the ninth baronet, Sir Henry de Hoghton, might have read Charles Dickens's novel George Silverman's Explanation, which was based upon his visit to this house, describing how tragic this wonderful house had become.
- Dickens came here? - Dickens came here, yes.
And in fact, William Shakespeare, it's considered, between 1579 and 1581 also became part of the retinue of Alexander de Hoghton and probably learned quite a lot of his stagecraft here from Fulke Gillam, who was the Master of the Revels.
So as I tread these stones, I'm walking in the footsteps of Shakespeare and Dickens.
Yes, you are.
It's said that the fear of what it would cost to host the king, his entourage and standing army on the journey back to London from Scotland in 1611 led one Lancashire household to take the roof off its home, whilst another burnt down its house to avoid any royal visit.
But the recently created Baronet Richard de Hoghton welcomed King James I and committed to provide him with lavish hospitality and the finest food.
We actually have the original menu of what the King was offered with his court.
It's the most wonderful menu, isn't it? Haunch of venison, gigots of mutton, plovers, turkeys.
How did the sirloin story come about? The King noticed this wonderful loin of beef on this table and said to his host, "Bring it to me.
" And the two pages, immediately on their knees.
And he took his sword and drew it and dubbed this loin of beef.
"Arise, Sir Loin," and everybody went And that has remained in the English language ever since.
You're seriously telling me that is the origin of "sirloin"? Absolutely.
Dated August 1617 in the very room we're both standing in.
In more modern times, unlike so many of the landed aristocracy, the de Hoghtons had no beef with the railways traversing their land.
Presumably your family must have granted the land.
Yes, they did.
In about 1840, they allowed it to move from Blackburn to Preston.
There was a railway station at the bottom, but the thing that really is very lovely around here is the Hoghton Viaduct.
About 110 foot tall and with about three arches.
65 feet wide.
It's a very splendid building.
This is the most perfect place to do trainspotting, isn't it? And that reminds me.
I'm afraid that I have a train to catch.
- Thank you for your hospitality.
- Not at all.
Nice to meet you.
Bye-bye.
Back to Pleasington to continue my journey.
I'm used to flagging down a bus, but is the etiquette with trains different? How do you flag the train down? What do you do? Wave your arm as you see the train coming down the track.
Just wave your arm then step back away from the edge.
- And that will do it, will it? - Should do, yes.
I hope so.
- Thanks.
- OK.
- Have a good journey.
- Thank you.
You too.
Success! Safely on board, I'm off to spend the night in a worryingly infamous hotel across the Hoghton Viaduct.
As evening draws in, I'm going to alight at the delightfully named Church and Oswaldtwistle.
Bradshaw's mentions Dunkenhalgh Park.
There's rumours of a ghost there, and the spirit moves me to visit.
The Dunkenhalgh phantom is Lucette, a French woman who took her own life here in the 18th century.
The ghost is reputed to take its seat on the end of a guest's bed, but I hope it won't be tempted to read me a bedtime story.
Incredibly, the pale figure of a woman came gliding down my corridor and tapped softly at my door.
Yes, it was the hotel's complimentary bed turndown service.
Not a ghost train for me this morning.
I'm travelling from Accringion Station, heading east.
Hebden Bridge, next stop.
The beautiful station of Hebden Bridge.
I'm hoping to be here later, but for the moment, I'm changing line, heading down to Rochdale, another boom town of the Industrial Revolution.
Rochdale.
Bradshaw's comments that it's a "modern borough returning one member of Parliament".
Most industrial towns and cities gained representation in Parliament only in the 19th century.
And even so, most working men were excluded from politics because they didn't have the vote and they sought other ways of coming together to improve the condition of their lives.
A textile town, with mills powered by the waters of the River Roch, Rochdale was linked first by canal in 1804 and then by railway in 1838 to Manchester, hub of the Northwest.
Rochdale's town hall, a fine piece of Victorian gothic, opened in 1871 and is testament to the town's prosperity.
But not everyone was thriving.
Overseeing Rochdale's historic collections is Gillian Lonergan.
- Gillian, hello.
- Welcome.
What a wonderful building.
It reminds me of Parliament.
- It must be the same vintage.
- Yes.
They were completed at about the same time.
Why would Rochdale want such a grand town hall? There was a lot of competition between local authorities in building their town halls to make them that little bit more flamboyant.
- And plenty of wealth.
- Yes, plenty of wealth to run it.
But in the hands of the enterprising few, Rochdale's wealth largely failed to trickle down to the men and women from whose toil the town had made its fortune.
In the years before what came to be known as the Hungry '40s, Northwest MPs John Bright and Richard Cobden formed the Anti-Corn Law League.
Now, the corn laws restricted imports of cheap wheat, didn't they, and so drove up the price of bread, drove up the price of food? How much did that affect the working man and woman in Rochdale? A lot of them were starving.
They couldn't afford to eat.
Now, eventually these two and others were successful in getting the corn laws repealed in 1846.
But before that, there'd been a lot of suffering.
Yes.
And Rochdale had a really hard time with it.
So what did working men and women attempt to do about their plight? The Chartists were trying to campaign for working people to get the vote, but there were other organisations that were set up, like co-operative societies.
Working people getting together to work together.
It was no good waiting for the great and the good to come in and improve things.
Over the next 110 years or so, the co-operative movement has spread so successfully that the United Nations designated 2012 the International Year of the Co-operative.
The movement's come a long way since the Rochdale Equitable Pioneers Society was formed in 1844.
Now a common sight on many a British high street, the first ever Co-op shop opened here at 31 Toad Lane.
- Who were these Rochdale Pioneers? - They were ordinary working people.
About half of them were involved in the textile industries.
They would be working 14 hours a day in the mill and get together in the evenings for meetings.
They actually said that if they could change all of production, distribution, education and government to co-operation, that the world would be a better place.
Well, let's start small with the shop.
They had saved up £28; £1 per member.
It doesn't sound like a lot now, but then it would take a skilled craftsman a week and a half to two weeks to earn a pound.
It was a huge investment that they were making.
- And what were they trading in? - Butter, sugar, flour and oatmeal.
Those were the basic staples of life.
Was the point of setting up the shop really about prices? It was partly prices.
They wanted honest pricing.
But also there was a lot of food adulteration that went on.
For example, flour.
When you bought flour, you were likely to find that it was half chalk, half flour.
Oatmeal, another one of the staples, was often mixed with gravel or sand.
This appears to be about 90 per cent gravel.
Food really wasn't very healthy at the time.
Not only did they adulterate food, but they also weighted the scales so that you weren't buying as much as you thought you were.
So the Pioneers had their scales on open show.
Everybody knew it was honest business.
What state have the co-operative societies reached by the 1860s? Co-operation was spreading across the country.
In 1863, the co-operative societies in the North of England actually got together to form the North of England Co-operative Wholesale Society, which is now known as the Co-operative Group.
We have their original visitors' book.
In 1863 they had visitors from St Petersburg, Paris, Germany, Belfast, as well as across the whole of the UK, coming here to see how they could operate their own co-operative societies.
There's a lovely article in The Cooperator for 1860, slightly before the Bradshaw's date.
But it talks about them coming on a third-class covered carriage very comfortably and singing all the way.
In tune with my timetable, I'm heading to my final destination, a place renowned for its natural beauty.
Bradshaw's gives me much to look forward to at my next stop.
"In the bottom of a deep dale is seen the little village of Hebden Bridge, surrounded by lofty ridges of moorland heights, partly clothed with woods and partly spotted with groups of cottages and farmhouses.
" Absolutely enticing.
Nowhere better represents the impact of the railways on Victorian leisure than Hebden Bridge.
It had been no more than a few mills and some houses dotted along the river, but in 1840, the railways brought swathes of working people on day trips from industrial towns keen to view the loveliness of the Calder Valley.
Diana Monahan is a local historian.
- Diana.
- How do you do, Michael? Good to see you.
What a beautiful station with its local stone, I suppose, and the columns and the old signage.
Is this what would have been here in Bradshaw's time? No, this was actually built in about 1892 to replace the station that was built in 1840 when the line opened.
The problem was that the waiting rooms were far too small.
In those days, the ladies had crinoline dresses and you wouldn't get many crinoline-dressed ladies in one waiting room.
We are in the most beautiful countryside.
These people, even from 1840, were beginning to come for tourism, were they? Yes, they were.
It was very popular, particularly on Whitsuntide, to go into Hardcastle Crags and the countryside around Colden Clough, all the lovely valleys that we have coming down to the Calder.
I've noticed your lovely picnic basket.
- May I carry that for you? - It's a bit heavy, I'm afraid.
Let's set off.
Is this beautiful bridge the one from which the town takes its name? It is indeed, Michael.
It's over 500 years old and it had its birthday party in 2010.
And what about the impact of the railways? It must have been exponential on the number of visitors.
At the time of Bradshaw's, in 1866, they had over 2,000 in one weekend.
And then in the 1890s, over 12,000 came in one weekend, so yes, it did have an effect.
I can see the water down there.
There's quite a nice quote here in Bradshaw's.
"Through the dark recesses is heard the roar of the Calder and its various tributaries rushing occasionally in sheets of spray over the precipitous heights.
" That's rather nice.
This is one of the tributaries of the Calder, Hebden Water.
People would have come here for the wonderful nature and scenery.
They might have come to listen to the birds and watch the animals, the otters.
It's just lovely.
Forward.
Right, Michael, I've brought some Whitsuntide buns for our picnic.
- Did you bake those? - I did.
Delicious.
Hebden Bridge is still very important for tourists today, isn't it, Diana? It is, yes.
It's one of the main industries, really.
Because whilst the smoke has disappeared from the chimneys of the mills, the natural beauty is the same as in Victorian times.
Yes, and you can still go for the most beautiful walks from Hebden Bridge up on the tops and look down on the town.
Despite the jolly pageantry of the Preston Guild, life for Victorian workers in northern mill towns was pretty grim.
It was during the so-called Hungry 1840s that Rochdale men founded the Co-operative Society.
But standing here, it's a relief to recall that once the railways were built, mill operatives could occasionally escape the grime and smoke and fill their lungs with fresh air.
On the next leg, I learn how Victorians marketed confectionery "On Saturday last, you were eating Mackintosh's toffee at our expense.
" "Next Saturday pay us another visit eat it at your own expense.
" - That's brilliant.
- A very unusual way of advertising.
I get a tailor-made fitting Most people have got one shoulder lower than the other, and you have.
Where I've been writing over the years.
All them cheques.
and I help to revive a cinematic railway legend.
Oakworth! Oakworth Station! Oakworth!