Great British Railway Journeys (2010–…): Season 1, Episode 16 - Buxton to Matlock - full transcript
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 travel,
what to see and where to stay.
Now, 170 years later,
I'm making four long journeys
across the length and breadth of the country
to see what remains of Bradshaw's Britain.
My first journey this week begins
in the gorgeous open spaces of Derbyshire,
the Peak District,
and the wonderful town of Buxton.
But, before long, I'll be penetrating the heart
of Britain's Industrial Revolution,
at Burton, Derby, Birmingham,
and thinking about trains that carried coal
and minerals as well as passengers,
before going on to the Home Counties
and eventually to the nation's capital,
ending up in London.
Along the way, I'll be exploring
some of the hidden architectural gems...
It is huge.
Are we talking St Peter's Cathedral in Rome?
- Larger than.
- No!
Yes.
...finding out how the landscape of the Peak
District has changed since Bradshaw's time.
The Industrial Revolution
and its coal-fired industries
have basically destroyed the bog surface.
...and taking a nostalgic trip
back into my childhood.
From the moment I arrived on this platform,
I got that scent of railway engine.
I'm old enough to remember trains
pulled by steam engines
and it took me straight back to my childhood.
All this week I'm travelling from Buxton along
one of the earliest railway routes in England,
first built to transport freight from north to south.
Each day, I'll be stopping at towns and cities
recommended by Bradshaw's guide,
until I reach the end of the line in London.
Today, I'll be covering
the first 40 miles,
to Holme Moss,
then on through the Peak District,
via Millers Dale to Matlock Bath.
My first stop is at
England's highest market town - Buxton.
Buxton sprang to life as an upmarket resort
in the 18th century
on the back of its famous spa.
The well-to-do visitors came for the curative
effects of the famous local spring water.
As Bradshaw tells me, I will find a fountain,
which gives us the Buxton waters.
He's says that "the water is clear and tasteless“.
It's also warm.
And, says Bradshaw, “has a stimulating effect...
I must watch out for that.
The water was said to be especially good
for gout and rheumatism.
Today, the fountain, known as St Ann's Well,
still attracts people looking for a cure.
I see you're really going for it.
You're filling up four litres of water.
Does it do you good?
I'll give you a story.
We had a dachshund and it went of its legs.
The vet said we couldn't do anything for it.
Somebody said that it's good for rheumatism.
We thought we'll get some for the dog.
The dog's legs mended and he walked
and he lived another five years.
That's fantastic.
I'd better have some more, I think.
- Thank you very much.
- Thank you.
Many of the Regency buildings from Buxton's
Nth-century heyday as a spa town
are still in place,
giving Buxton a stately and graceful feel.
Bradshaw is enthusiastic about Buxton.
“Situated in the midst of one of the most
picturesque parts of Derbyshire,
the Crescent is the principle building at Buxton.
It was erected by the late Duke of Devonshire
and it has three storeys
and extends for 257 feet.“
Built in the early 17803,
the Crescent was a direct copy
of the one in Bath
by architect John Wood.
ll housed a ballroom, assembly rooms,
shops and fashionable hotels,
as we" as a house for the Duke.
After Buxton had had a Regency heyday,
it then had a Victorian revival,
with a lovely municipal park, botanical gardens,
and an opera house.
This is a small town we're talking about,
and it has an opera house. It's fantastic.
I've been to the Opera House in Buxton twice.
Once, years ago, for a Mozart opera
and once to make a speech here too.
When the railways reached Buxton in 1863,
this northern spa town
boomed for the second time.
To cater for the trainloads of new visitors
the Duke of Devonshire
led the building of new attractions.
Over the next 40 years, the Opera House,
the Pavilion Gardens
and the huge Palace Hotel, all sprung up,
funded by the citizens of Buxton themselves.
These Victorian attractions took pretty much
as they did in Bradshaw's time,
and still bring tourists to Buxton a“ year round.
Another landmark built by the Duke
dominates Buxton's skyline -
his extraordinary stables.
This is one of Buxton's
most magnificent buildings.
Bradshaw says: “These are the large stables
of the Duke of Devonshire."
He loves to give figures.
“Built at a cost of £120,000."
Bradshaw was quite shocked by that.
Five million pounds in today's money
for stables - that is quite something.
And a fantastic dome,
which Bradshaw doesn't mention.
This is really beautiful.
I hadn't expected this lovely colonnade all round.
I hadn't expected so much light.
The top of the dome is completely glass,
and then light enters
all the way around the dome.
Oh. (Echoes)
And I've got an echo. Ec-ho!
Ec-ho!
Today, the building is a university campus,
and Adrian Brown is a former student.
I can't believe that this huge building
was a stable.
And I can't believe that a stable has a dome.
In fact, it didn't.
The original building, as a stables,
was created in 1790
and people can be surprised to learn
it was nearly a century later
before the building acquires the dome,
thanks to the efforts of the 7th Duke
and his architect Robert Rippon Duke.
Just as he was creating this dome,
the Tay Bridge disaster happened.
76 people died during the storm
in late December of 1879.
The Tay Bridge disaster was to have
a huge impact on the building of the dome.
One night during a violent winter storm
the railway bridge across the lay lo Dundee
suddenly collapsed.
R was less than two years old.
Engineers discovered that the bridge had failed
because the rivets weren't lined up properly
with the holes
and had sheared off in high winds.
Fearing that the same methods
were being used to build the dome,
architect Robert Rippon Duke
immediately halted work.
What Robert Rippon Duke
was concerned about
was the fact that the construction of this dome
was very similar to that of the Tay Bridge,
in that it was a cast-iron construction
bolted and riveted to a stone base.
I can see the bolts and rivets
all the way from here.
The way in which the Victorians would have
bolted a structure together like this
is it was made to very tight tolerances
but, nevertheless,
the bolt holes didn't necessarily coincide.
In that case, the bolt had to be forced,
or, as the Victorians called it, "drifting in the bolt“.
The bolts, in some cases,
were heated up to red heat,
so they became almost plastic in their nature
before they were then hammered into place.
Robert Rippon Duke came rushing back
and stopped work.
He had all the bolts taken out,
the holes re-drilled where necessary,
and then the whole thing was put back together,
with the effect that 130-odd years on
the building is extremely sound.
Thank goodness.
Potentially a second disaster was averted.
Correct.
The lessons learned changed the way
that the Victorians built,
and helped them to achieve
some incredible feats of engineering.
The dome weighs 560 tons
and spans 145 feet.
It is huge.
Are we talking St Paul's Cathedral in London?
Larger than.
Larger than? St Peter's Cathedral in Rome?
- Larger than.
- No!
Yes.
I still have that sense of wonder,
and also great pride that Buxton has got
one of the largest domes in the world,
and, architecturally,
one of the most attractive domes in the world.
It is truly the gem in the middle
of the Buxton architectural crown.
Well placed pride.
Thank you.
Bradshaw didn't just recommend local
architectural landmarks in his guides.
He also suggested visiting
some of nature's most attractive sights.
- Does this go to New Mills?
- Yes.
Thank you very much.
I'm now leaving Buxton to travel on
into the heart of the Peak District National Park,
to Holme Moss.
Bradshaw is at his most lyrical
about the Peak District.
He says, “We have the peculiar scenery
of Derbyshire before us.
The tourists will seldom see
such glorious landscape
from the window of a railway carriage.
Whilst at one moment the bold hills rise up
before us, behind us, and on either side,
at the next, a winding valley
shows us a charming picture
stretching away for miles."
In 1951, this area became
Britain's first national park.
I'm going to the Dark Peak,
named after the peat landscape.
I've never lived in the country,
and actually I've never wanted to.
I love cities, I love London, where I live.
But you see the Peak District
on a day like today,
sunny and bright
and open and beautiful...
It's fantastic.
To get out on the moors
I now need to leave the railways
and take a taxi.
Are you for Michael Portillo?
Thank you.
Is this one of the prettiest roads, this one?
It is because you've got the reservoirs
down here
all the way up to Ladybower,
going up to Sheffield,
and you have some absolutely beautiful views.
This area is now the second most visited
national park in the world,
after Mount Fuji in Japan.
Over 20 million visitors come here each year
to enjoy the scenery.
It's quite a contrast to Bradshaw's day,
when the peaks were surrounded by
some of Britain's busiest industrial towns.
The views are still stunning,
just as Bradshaw describes,
but the moors are currently under threat.
Hello.
- Are you Chris?
- Pleased to meet you.
I am, yes.
Park ranger, Chris Dean,
is heading up a group of volunteers,
trying to save the precious peat bog.
The problem here is that we're on one of
the iconic hills of the Peak District, Holme Moss.
It's one of the places that's suffered,
or is suffering, from erosion to the peat.
Where I'm seeing these ridges of dark matter,
that's the peat.
It is.
And the stuff is, what,
where the peat's disappeared?
The peat's largely disappeared.
If we were to draw a line
across the top of these peat hags,
all the material underneath
is all the material that we've lost.
The reason for that is
that the soil was quite badly acidified
by the atmospheric pollution
from the textile industry.
Going all the way back to the 19th century?
Yeah, absolutely, yeah.
You're talking about heritage railway journeys
which were all powered by coal-fired trains.
And at that time, there was a massive industry
all powered by coal
and the Industrial Revolution
has basically destroyed the bog surface,
because a lot of those plants are quite delicate,
and, while they're plants that grow in
an acidic environment,
if it gets too acidic, as it did here,
it just wipes them out completely.
So, that's effectively acid rain, and that stops
these grasses growing back again?
It's basically down to the PH, the acidity,
of lemon juice.
So it's extremely acidic.
We have to do something about that
so we can get vegetation back on these areas.
The soil is so badly damaged
that the vegetation can't grow back.
The peat lies exposed to the elements
and is gradually eroded away.
Once the soil has been treated to reduce acidity
Chris and the volunteers are aiming to plant
half a million plug plants,
such as cotton grass.
The work will continue
until 35 square kilometres are covered.
It should protect the peat from erosion
and encourage more of it to be produced.
A hive of activity, Chris.
It is.
You've got quite a lot of volunteers
out here today.
We like to involve young people
because they're the ones who are going to
benefit from this in the long-term.
Chris aims to complete the first phase of work
by 2015,
using hundreds of people, including volunteers.
- So what are you using?
- Dibbers.
We push them in the ground and make a hole.
- Shall I have a go?
- Yeah.
You've given me a nice dirty one.
Any tips?
Sometimes it's hard to push it down
so you've got to push quite hard.
Oh, you're not kidding.
And it's hard to get it out,
so you might want to wiggle it a bit.
A good wiggle.
Oh! I'm not meant to make a big hole like that,
am I?
Should it go in there?
I can see why the work could take a while,
but it's important.
As the peat erodes,
it releases 002 into the atmosphere,
contributing to global warming.
As each plant takes root,
it will help to lock the 002 in the soil again.
Well done. Thank you very much indeed.
- Oh, here's your... What was it called?
- Dibber.
A dirty dibber.
Every generation lives with
the legacy of its ancestors.
We 're dealing with pollution
caused by the Industrial Revolution
in previous centuries,
living with consequences
that were unforeseeable.
But at least the damage is now being repaired,
and the Peak District is still hauntingly beautiful,
much as it was in Bradshaw's day.
There's another big change
that's affecting my journey.
In the 19th century,
train lines snaked across the moors,
carrying people and freight.
Bradshaw could have caught the train
from Buxton to Matlock
but the line is now closed.
It's become a cycle and walking trail,
used by thousands of people every year.
Bradshaw described the route, passing through
Millers Dale, along the river Wye,
as “one of the most stupendous valleys
in Derbyshire,
which contains a succession
of some of the most remarkable tours
and wild picturesque views imaginable.
It is, in fact, a magnificent ride,
sublimely grand at all seasons.“
And though that moor was very beautiful,
it was cold and it was windy.
I am hungry and I'm tired.
Luckily, Bradshaw always recommends hotels
and there's one here today
that he recommends.
Founded in 1802.
It looks pretty grand.
Exactly the place for a steak
and a comfortable bed.
- Hello.
- Hello. Good evening, sir.
- Michael Portillo checking in.
- Welcome to the New Bath Hotel, sir.
Thank you very much.
The hotel was originally for well-to-do visitors
coming to Matlock Bath to enjoy the spa waters.
There's even an old Victorian spa bath
in the basement.
Let's hope the rest of the plumbing's
been updated.
Beautiful. Oh, and the room's got a lovely
four-poster bed. Thank you very much.
I'm going to kick off my boots
and then come down to dinner. Thank you.
And there, indeed, is the gorge.
Mattock Bath, like Buxton,
originally attracted visitors to its thermal springs.
But when the railways arrived in 1840,
it began to model itself
on the bigger seaside resorts,
like Blackpool and Southport.
It opened funfairs and fish and chip shops,
and even developed
its own annual illuminations.
Matlock Bath is still a popular destination
for day trippers,
with hundreds of thousands arriving every year.
And perhaps Bradshaw can explain why.
Bradshaw is poetic about Matlock Bath.
"Unquestionably, the sweetest
and most charming of the Derbyshire spas,
it's at the bottom of Matlock Dale,
a narrow defile,
the rocky, limestone sides of which
are piled up in the manner of the under cliff
in the Isle of Wight,
but covered with a profusion of pine, fir, yew,
box and other hardy trees.
The scenes through Matlock Bath
are exquisitely beautiful
and may be compared to Switzerland
in a nutshell.“
A little over the top, perhaps?
Although it may seem odd now,
the Victorians were prone to describing
steeply-wooded natural scenery as Swiss.
It became a well-used term
in travel literature for tourists,
something the locals seem to know a“ about.
I'm following a 19th-century guidebook which
says this is like “Switzerland in a nutshell...
Byron named it that. Little Switzerland.
- Byron named it that as well, did he?
- Yes.
I'm following a 19th-century guidebook.
It says it's like “Switzerland in a nutshell...
- Would you agree with that?
- Yes, it is. Don't you think so?
It has beautiful green slopes, and the cable car.
What's interesting
is this place also has a seaside atmosphere,
even though you're inland.
So, a little taste of Switzerland-by-the-sea,
even though we're 90 miles from the coast.
Matlock Bath does have the feel of
a seaside resort.
Whenever I'm at the seaside,
I do like to have an ice cream.
- Morning.
- Good morning.
- How are you?
- Very well. Can I have an ice cream, please?
- Which cone would you like?
- A rum and raisin, please.
Do you like Matlock Bath?
Oh, yes, I love it.
I've lived here nearly 30 years.
My husband and I have travelled extensively
in Italy
and I still don't think there's anywhere
as nice as this area.
It's funny, because I'm following
a 19th-century guidebook
and it compares Matlock Bath to Switzerland.
I'm not sure if that was Lord Byron that did that.
Our family call it a seaside without sea.
- Thank you very much indeed. Bye-bye.
- Bye.
Although the railways brought tourism
to the area,
they had a more important rote
in the 19th century -
to transport freight from here
to the rest of the country.
I'm now leaving the very tiny resort of Matlock
Bath, which was always about tourism,
for the much bigger Matlock,
which was a city of industry.
For the last leg of my journey
I'm heading just six miles away to Rowsley,
changing trains at Matlock.
From the moment I arrived on this platform
I got that scent of railway engine,
that special stench
that goes right up inside your nostrils.
I'm old enough to remember trains
pulled by steam engines,
and it just took me straight back to my childhood.
The other thing that's really bringing back
the memories is this sort of corridor train,
which was so typical in the '603
and long before that.
The tine passes through some of the prettiest
scenery in the Peak District.
According to Bradshaw, “In Derbyshire,
the exquisitely beautiful prevails.
The lofty rocks and bold crags, richly wooded,
the magnificent uplands and rounded knolls,
the sweet valleys intersected with silver streams
such as the Derwent, the Wye, the Dove,
are comprised in one beautiful picture.“
(Whistle)
In the 19th century, this line was part of
the busy Midland Railway route
from London to Manchester.
Today, it's the only part of the fine still open,
and carries day flippers
and those who love steam trains,
like driver Roger Hallatt.
- Pleased to meet you.
- How do you do?
Not so bad.
- How long have you been driving engines?
- About 15 years now.
- You're a volunteer, are you?
- Just a volunteer, yes.
- And you really love it, I bet.
- Yes, absolutely. It's brilliant.
I often say to my father, if I'd been slightly older
I'd have gone straight onto the railways.
That's what we wanted to do
when we were kids.
Wonderful. Thank you very much for the ride,
by the way.
- No problem.
- Very smooth. Bye-bye.
Roger's dropped me off at Rowsley,
near Stanton Moor,
in the heart of the White Peak.
It takes its name from the local stone.
In this area, which is famous
for its stone from quarries,
in the days of water transport,
this stuff had to be manhandled onto cans
and then onto barges,
which was incredibly expensive
so it could only be used locally.
But with the railways, the stone from the quarries
could be taken to Liverpool, to London,
all over Britain.
The stone here has been mined and worked
for over 2,000 years.
But the quarries expanded rapidly
in the 19th century when the railway arrived.
Suddenly, Derbyshire stone
could travel anywhere.
As the Industrial Revolution brought wealth,
the towns grew,
needing more and more Derbyshire stone.
It found its way into
some of the grandest buildings in London,
including Nelson's Column
and Trafalgar Square.
Near Rowsley,
the 12th century manor, Haddon Hall,
was built with Derbyshire stone,
which was also used in its recent restoration.
Limestone, sandstone and gritstone
are all still quarried here.
As well as being used in new buildings,
they're also carved into perpetual memorials.
- Are you Mark?
- Michael. How are you?
Good to see you.
Stonemason, Mark Eaton, has been working
with Derbyshire stone for over 30 years.
Tell me, Mark, what do you do here?
What's all this about?
I bring in the raw block from local quarries,
suited for the particular job I'm working on.
My main focus is on restoration work.
What makes Derbyshire stone special?
It's the durability of it.
It's a very good stone for construction,
for building purposes.
It ages well, it wears well,
and it does last a good long time.
Although new technology is used
to quarry the stone,
many of the techniques used to work it
are as they were in Bradshaw's day,
150 years ago.
We've got a piece of stone over here.
What do I do?
I've set a line round here to work upon,
just to form the leading edge.
- Would you like to have a go?
- Let me have a go at that.
Quite a low angle. Try not to take too much off.
It would take an apprentice at least three years
to learn to carve an intricate stone memorial.
It's highly specialised work.
It would certainly take me much longer.
- I'm being quite cautious.
- That's OK. That's OK.
That's it. A little bit steeper again.
You must need unbelievable powers
of concentration on this.
You're not sending text messages
while you're doing this, are you?
Not at all, no.
Thank you. I really enjoyed that.
A real privilege to do it, actually.
I realise how much has changed here
since Bradshaw's day.
Steam engines no longer chug
across the countryside,
and ravaged landscapes
are slowly being repaired.
But all around me,
in industries like Derbyshire stone,
the massive changes introduced here
almost two centuries ago
can be traced right up to the present day.
These smoking railway engines brought the
Industrial Revolution to even the remotest parts,
including the Peak District.
They brought pollution to the hills
but they brought opportunities, too,
to the stone quarries of Derbyshire.
Now the steam engines are just nostalgia.
Next time, I'll be visiting
the oldest working factory in the world.
- Made in England.
- Made in England.
- Does that make you proud?
- Oh, yes. That's what we like to see.
I'll be finding escape from busy city life.
We think it's Britain's first public park,
laid out in 1840.
And I'll be discovering why Burton's beer
is said to be the best.
Two weeks' conditioning in the cask,
a week in the pub...
- And ten minutes to drink.
- You're a slow drinker.
Piva Bunonski.
BOTH: Piva Bunonski!
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 four long journeys
across the length and breadth of the country
to see what remains of Bradshaw's Britain.
My first journey this week begins
in the gorgeous open spaces of Derbyshire,
the Peak District,
and the wonderful town of Buxton.
But, before long, I'll be penetrating the heart
of Britain's Industrial Revolution,
at Burton, Derby, Birmingham,
and thinking about trains that carried coal
and minerals as well as passengers,
before going on to the Home Counties
and eventually to the nation's capital,
ending up in London.
Along the way, I'll be exploring
some of the hidden architectural gems...
It is huge.
Are we talking St Peter's Cathedral in Rome?
- Larger than.
- No!
Yes.
...finding out how the landscape of the Peak
District has changed since Bradshaw's time.
The Industrial Revolution
and its coal-fired industries
have basically destroyed the bog surface.
...and taking a nostalgic trip
back into my childhood.
From the moment I arrived on this platform,
I got that scent of railway engine.
I'm old enough to remember trains
pulled by steam engines
and it took me straight back to my childhood.
All this week I'm travelling from Buxton along
one of the earliest railway routes in England,
first built to transport freight from north to south.
Each day, I'll be stopping at towns and cities
recommended by Bradshaw's guide,
until I reach the end of the line in London.
Today, I'll be covering
the first 40 miles,
to Holme Moss,
then on through the Peak District,
via Millers Dale to Matlock Bath.
My first stop is at
England's highest market town - Buxton.
Buxton sprang to life as an upmarket resort
in the 18th century
on the back of its famous spa.
The well-to-do visitors came for the curative
effects of the famous local spring water.
As Bradshaw tells me, I will find a fountain,
which gives us the Buxton waters.
He's says that "the water is clear and tasteless“.
It's also warm.
And, says Bradshaw, “has a stimulating effect...
I must watch out for that.
The water was said to be especially good
for gout and rheumatism.
Today, the fountain, known as St Ann's Well,
still attracts people looking for a cure.
I see you're really going for it.
You're filling up four litres of water.
Does it do you good?
I'll give you a story.
We had a dachshund and it went of its legs.
The vet said we couldn't do anything for it.
Somebody said that it's good for rheumatism.
We thought we'll get some for the dog.
The dog's legs mended and he walked
and he lived another five years.
That's fantastic.
I'd better have some more, I think.
- Thank you very much.
- Thank you.
Many of the Regency buildings from Buxton's
Nth-century heyday as a spa town
are still in place,
giving Buxton a stately and graceful feel.
Bradshaw is enthusiastic about Buxton.
“Situated in the midst of one of the most
picturesque parts of Derbyshire,
the Crescent is the principle building at Buxton.
It was erected by the late Duke of Devonshire
and it has three storeys
and extends for 257 feet.“
Built in the early 17803,
the Crescent was a direct copy
of the one in Bath
by architect John Wood.
ll housed a ballroom, assembly rooms,
shops and fashionable hotels,
as we" as a house for the Duke.
After Buxton had had a Regency heyday,
it then had a Victorian revival,
with a lovely municipal park, botanical gardens,
and an opera house.
This is a small town we're talking about,
and it has an opera house. It's fantastic.
I've been to the Opera House in Buxton twice.
Once, years ago, for a Mozart opera
and once to make a speech here too.
When the railways reached Buxton in 1863,
this northern spa town
boomed for the second time.
To cater for the trainloads of new visitors
the Duke of Devonshire
led the building of new attractions.
Over the next 40 years, the Opera House,
the Pavilion Gardens
and the huge Palace Hotel, all sprung up,
funded by the citizens of Buxton themselves.
These Victorian attractions took pretty much
as they did in Bradshaw's time,
and still bring tourists to Buxton a“ year round.
Another landmark built by the Duke
dominates Buxton's skyline -
his extraordinary stables.
This is one of Buxton's
most magnificent buildings.
Bradshaw says: “These are the large stables
of the Duke of Devonshire."
He loves to give figures.
“Built at a cost of £120,000."
Bradshaw was quite shocked by that.
Five million pounds in today's money
for stables - that is quite something.
And a fantastic dome,
which Bradshaw doesn't mention.
This is really beautiful.
I hadn't expected this lovely colonnade all round.
I hadn't expected so much light.
The top of the dome is completely glass,
and then light enters
all the way around the dome.
Oh. (Echoes)
And I've got an echo. Ec-ho!
Ec-ho!
Today, the building is a university campus,
and Adrian Brown is a former student.
I can't believe that this huge building
was a stable.
And I can't believe that a stable has a dome.
In fact, it didn't.
The original building, as a stables,
was created in 1790
and people can be surprised to learn
it was nearly a century later
before the building acquires the dome,
thanks to the efforts of the 7th Duke
and his architect Robert Rippon Duke.
Just as he was creating this dome,
the Tay Bridge disaster happened.
76 people died during the storm
in late December of 1879.
The Tay Bridge disaster was to have
a huge impact on the building of the dome.
One night during a violent winter storm
the railway bridge across the lay lo Dundee
suddenly collapsed.
R was less than two years old.
Engineers discovered that the bridge had failed
because the rivets weren't lined up properly
with the holes
and had sheared off in high winds.
Fearing that the same methods
were being used to build the dome,
architect Robert Rippon Duke
immediately halted work.
What Robert Rippon Duke
was concerned about
was the fact that the construction of this dome
was very similar to that of the Tay Bridge,
in that it was a cast-iron construction
bolted and riveted to a stone base.
I can see the bolts and rivets
all the way from here.
The way in which the Victorians would have
bolted a structure together like this
is it was made to very tight tolerances
but, nevertheless,
the bolt holes didn't necessarily coincide.
In that case, the bolt had to be forced,
or, as the Victorians called it, "drifting in the bolt“.
The bolts, in some cases,
were heated up to red heat,
so they became almost plastic in their nature
before they were then hammered into place.
Robert Rippon Duke came rushing back
and stopped work.
He had all the bolts taken out,
the holes re-drilled where necessary,
and then the whole thing was put back together,
with the effect that 130-odd years on
the building is extremely sound.
Thank goodness.
Potentially a second disaster was averted.
Correct.
The lessons learned changed the way
that the Victorians built,
and helped them to achieve
some incredible feats of engineering.
The dome weighs 560 tons
and spans 145 feet.
It is huge.
Are we talking St Paul's Cathedral in London?
Larger than.
Larger than? St Peter's Cathedral in Rome?
- Larger than.
- No!
Yes.
I still have that sense of wonder,
and also great pride that Buxton has got
one of the largest domes in the world,
and, architecturally,
one of the most attractive domes in the world.
It is truly the gem in the middle
of the Buxton architectural crown.
Well placed pride.
Thank you.
Bradshaw didn't just recommend local
architectural landmarks in his guides.
He also suggested visiting
some of nature's most attractive sights.
- Does this go to New Mills?
- Yes.
Thank you very much.
I'm now leaving Buxton to travel on
into the heart of the Peak District National Park,
to Holme Moss.
Bradshaw is at his most lyrical
about the Peak District.
He says, “We have the peculiar scenery
of Derbyshire before us.
The tourists will seldom see
such glorious landscape
from the window of a railway carriage.
Whilst at one moment the bold hills rise up
before us, behind us, and on either side,
at the next, a winding valley
shows us a charming picture
stretching away for miles."
In 1951, this area became
Britain's first national park.
I'm going to the Dark Peak,
named after the peat landscape.
I've never lived in the country,
and actually I've never wanted to.
I love cities, I love London, where I live.
But you see the Peak District
on a day like today,
sunny and bright
and open and beautiful...
It's fantastic.
To get out on the moors
I now need to leave the railways
and take a taxi.
Are you for Michael Portillo?
Thank you.
Is this one of the prettiest roads, this one?
It is because you've got the reservoirs
down here
all the way up to Ladybower,
going up to Sheffield,
and you have some absolutely beautiful views.
This area is now the second most visited
national park in the world,
after Mount Fuji in Japan.
Over 20 million visitors come here each year
to enjoy the scenery.
It's quite a contrast to Bradshaw's day,
when the peaks were surrounded by
some of Britain's busiest industrial towns.
The views are still stunning,
just as Bradshaw describes,
but the moors are currently under threat.
Hello.
- Are you Chris?
- Pleased to meet you.
I am, yes.
Park ranger, Chris Dean,
is heading up a group of volunteers,
trying to save the precious peat bog.
The problem here is that we're on one of
the iconic hills of the Peak District, Holme Moss.
It's one of the places that's suffered,
or is suffering, from erosion to the peat.
Where I'm seeing these ridges of dark matter,
that's the peat.
It is.
And the stuff is, what,
where the peat's disappeared?
The peat's largely disappeared.
If we were to draw a line
across the top of these peat hags,
all the material underneath
is all the material that we've lost.
The reason for that is
that the soil was quite badly acidified
by the atmospheric pollution
from the textile industry.
Going all the way back to the 19th century?
Yeah, absolutely, yeah.
You're talking about heritage railway journeys
which were all powered by coal-fired trains.
And at that time, there was a massive industry
all powered by coal
and the Industrial Revolution
has basically destroyed the bog surface,
because a lot of those plants are quite delicate,
and, while they're plants that grow in
an acidic environment,
if it gets too acidic, as it did here,
it just wipes them out completely.
So, that's effectively acid rain, and that stops
these grasses growing back again?
It's basically down to the PH, the acidity,
of lemon juice.
So it's extremely acidic.
We have to do something about that
so we can get vegetation back on these areas.
The soil is so badly damaged
that the vegetation can't grow back.
The peat lies exposed to the elements
and is gradually eroded away.
Once the soil has been treated to reduce acidity
Chris and the volunteers are aiming to plant
half a million plug plants,
such as cotton grass.
The work will continue
until 35 square kilometres are covered.
It should protect the peat from erosion
and encourage more of it to be produced.
A hive of activity, Chris.
It is.
You've got quite a lot of volunteers
out here today.
We like to involve young people
because they're the ones who are going to
benefit from this in the long-term.
Chris aims to complete the first phase of work
by 2015,
using hundreds of people, including volunteers.
- So what are you using?
- Dibbers.
We push them in the ground and make a hole.
- Shall I have a go?
- Yeah.
You've given me a nice dirty one.
Any tips?
Sometimes it's hard to push it down
so you've got to push quite hard.
Oh, you're not kidding.
And it's hard to get it out,
so you might want to wiggle it a bit.
A good wiggle.
Oh! I'm not meant to make a big hole like that,
am I?
Should it go in there?
I can see why the work could take a while,
but it's important.
As the peat erodes,
it releases 002 into the atmosphere,
contributing to global warming.
As each plant takes root,
it will help to lock the 002 in the soil again.
Well done. Thank you very much indeed.
- Oh, here's your... What was it called?
- Dibber.
A dirty dibber.
Every generation lives with
the legacy of its ancestors.
We 're dealing with pollution
caused by the Industrial Revolution
in previous centuries,
living with consequences
that were unforeseeable.
But at least the damage is now being repaired,
and the Peak District is still hauntingly beautiful,
much as it was in Bradshaw's day.
There's another big change
that's affecting my journey.
In the 19th century,
train lines snaked across the moors,
carrying people and freight.
Bradshaw could have caught the train
from Buxton to Matlock
but the line is now closed.
It's become a cycle and walking trail,
used by thousands of people every year.
Bradshaw described the route, passing through
Millers Dale, along the river Wye,
as “one of the most stupendous valleys
in Derbyshire,
which contains a succession
of some of the most remarkable tours
and wild picturesque views imaginable.
It is, in fact, a magnificent ride,
sublimely grand at all seasons.“
And though that moor was very beautiful,
it was cold and it was windy.
I am hungry and I'm tired.
Luckily, Bradshaw always recommends hotels
and there's one here today
that he recommends.
Founded in 1802.
It looks pretty grand.
Exactly the place for a steak
and a comfortable bed.
- Hello.
- Hello. Good evening, sir.
- Michael Portillo checking in.
- Welcome to the New Bath Hotel, sir.
Thank you very much.
The hotel was originally for well-to-do visitors
coming to Matlock Bath to enjoy the spa waters.
There's even an old Victorian spa bath
in the basement.
Let's hope the rest of the plumbing's
been updated.
Beautiful. Oh, and the room's got a lovely
four-poster bed. Thank you very much.
I'm going to kick off my boots
and then come down to dinner. Thank you.
And there, indeed, is the gorge.
Mattock Bath, like Buxton,
originally attracted visitors to its thermal springs.
But when the railways arrived in 1840,
it began to model itself
on the bigger seaside resorts,
like Blackpool and Southport.
It opened funfairs and fish and chip shops,
and even developed
its own annual illuminations.
Matlock Bath is still a popular destination
for day trippers,
with hundreds of thousands arriving every year.
And perhaps Bradshaw can explain why.
Bradshaw is poetic about Matlock Bath.
"Unquestionably, the sweetest
and most charming of the Derbyshire spas,
it's at the bottom of Matlock Dale,
a narrow defile,
the rocky, limestone sides of which
are piled up in the manner of the under cliff
in the Isle of Wight,
but covered with a profusion of pine, fir, yew,
box and other hardy trees.
The scenes through Matlock Bath
are exquisitely beautiful
and may be compared to Switzerland
in a nutshell.“
A little over the top, perhaps?
Although it may seem odd now,
the Victorians were prone to describing
steeply-wooded natural scenery as Swiss.
It became a well-used term
in travel literature for tourists,
something the locals seem to know a“ about.
I'm following a 19th-century guidebook which
says this is like “Switzerland in a nutshell...
Byron named it that. Little Switzerland.
- Byron named it that as well, did he?
- Yes.
I'm following a 19th-century guidebook.
It says it's like “Switzerland in a nutshell...
- Would you agree with that?
- Yes, it is. Don't you think so?
It has beautiful green slopes, and the cable car.
What's interesting
is this place also has a seaside atmosphere,
even though you're inland.
So, a little taste of Switzerland-by-the-sea,
even though we're 90 miles from the coast.
Matlock Bath does have the feel of
a seaside resort.
Whenever I'm at the seaside,
I do like to have an ice cream.
- Morning.
- Good morning.
- How are you?
- Very well. Can I have an ice cream, please?
- Which cone would you like?
- A rum and raisin, please.
Do you like Matlock Bath?
Oh, yes, I love it.
I've lived here nearly 30 years.
My husband and I have travelled extensively
in Italy
and I still don't think there's anywhere
as nice as this area.
It's funny, because I'm following
a 19th-century guidebook
and it compares Matlock Bath to Switzerland.
I'm not sure if that was Lord Byron that did that.
Our family call it a seaside without sea.
- Thank you very much indeed. Bye-bye.
- Bye.
Although the railways brought tourism
to the area,
they had a more important rote
in the 19th century -
to transport freight from here
to the rest of the country.
I'm now leaving the very tiny resort of Matlock
Bath, which was always about tourism,
for the much bigger Matlock,
which was a city of industry.
For the last leg of my journey
I'm heading just six miles away to Rowsley,
changing trains at Matlock.
From the moment I arrived on this platform
I got that scent of railway engine,
that special stench
that goes right up inside your nostrils.
I'm old enough to remember trains
pulled by steam engines,
and it just took me straight back to my childhood.
The other thing that's really bringing back
the memories is this sort of corridor train,
which was so typical in the '603
and long before that.
The tine passes through some of the prettiest
scenery in the Peak District.
According to Bradshaw, “In Derbyshire,
the exquisitely beautiful prevails.
The lofty rocks and bold crags, richly wooded,
the magnificent uplands and rounded knolls,
the sweet valleys intersected with silver streams
such as the Derwent, the Wye, the Dove,
are comprised in one beautiful picture.“
(Whistle)
In the 19th century, this line was part of
the busy Midland Railway route
from London to Manchester.
Today, it's the only part of the fine still open,
and carries day flippers
and those who love steam trains,
like driver Roger Hallatt.
- Pleased to meet you.
- How do you do?
Not so bad.
- How long have you been driving engines?
- About 15 years now.
- You're a volunteer, are you?
- Just a volunteer, yes.
- And you really love it, I bet.
- Yes, absolutely. It's brilliant.
I often say to my father, if I'd been slightly older
I'd have gone straight onto the railways.
That's what we wanted to do
when we were kids.
Wonderful. Thank you very much for the ride,
by the way.
- No problem.
- Very smooth. Bye-bye.
Roger's dropped me off at Rowsley,
near Stanton Moor,
in the heart of the White Peak.
It takes its name from the local stone.
In this area, which is famous
for its stone from quarries,
in the days of water transport,
this stuff had to be manhandled onto cans
and then onto barges,
which was incredibly expensive
so it could only be used locally.
But with the railways, the stone from the quarries
could be taken to Liverpool, to London,
all over Britain.
The stone here has been mined and worked
for over 2,000 years.
But the quarries expanded rapidly
in the 19th century when the railway arrived.
Suddenly, Derbyshire stone
could travel anywhere.
As the Industrial Revolution brought wealth,
the towns grew,
needing more and more Derbyshire stone.
It found its way into
some of the grandest buildings in London,
including Nelson's Column
and Trafalgar Square.
Near Rowsley,
the 12th century manor, Haddon Hall,
was built with Derbyshire stone,
which was also used in its recent restoration.
Limestone, sandstone and gritstone
are all still quarried here.
As well as being used in new buildings,
they're also carved into perpetual memorials.
- Are you Mark?
- Michael. How are you?
Good to see you.
Stonemason, Mark Eaton, has been working
with Derbyshire stone for over 30 years.
Tell me, Mark, what do you do here?
What's all this about?
I bring in the raw block from local quarries,
suited for the particular job I'm working on.
My main focus is on restoration work.
What makes Derbyshire stone special?
It's the durability of it.
It's a very good stone for construction,
for building purposes.
It ages well, it wears well,
and it does last a good long time.
Although new technology is used
to quarry the stone,
many of the techniques used to work it
are as they were in Bradshaw's day,
150 years ago.
We've got a piece of stone over here.
What do I do?
I've set a line round here to work upon,
just to form the leading edge.
- Would you like to have a go?
- Let me have a go at that.
Quite a low angle. Try not to take too much off.
It would take an apprentice at least three years
to learn to carve an intricate stone memorial.
It's highly specialised work.
It would certainly take me much longer.
- I'm being quite cautious.
- That's OK. That's OK.
That's it. A little bit steeper again.
You must need unbelievable powers
of concentration on this.
You're not sending text messages
while you're doing this, are you?
Not at all, no.
Thank you. I really enjoyed that.
A real privilege to do it, actually.
I realise how much has changed here
since Bradshaw's day.
Steam engines no longer chug
across the countryside,
and ravaged landscapes
are slowly being repaired.
But all around me,
in industries like Derbyshire stone,
the massive changes introduced here
almost two centuries ago
can be traced right up to the present day.
These smoking railway engines brought the
Industrial Revolution to even the remotest parts,
including the Peak District.
They brought pollution to the hills
but they brought opportunities, too,
to the stone quarries of Derbyshire.
Now the steam engines are just nostalgia.
Next time, I'll be visiting
the oldest working factory in the world.
- Made in England.
- Made in England.
- Does that make you proud?
- Oh, yes. That's what we like to see.
I'll be finding escape from busy city life.
We think it's Britain's first public park,
laid out in 1840.
And I'll be discovering why Burton's beer
is said to be the best.
Two weeks' conditioning in the cask,
a week in the pub...
- And ten minutes to drink.
- You're a slow drinker.
Piva Bunonski.
BOTH: Piva Bunonski!