Great British Railway Journeys (2010–…): Season 1, Episode 20 - St. Pancras to Westminster - 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.
I'm now on the last stage of my rail journey
from Buxton to London.
I've found my Victorian Bradshaw's guide
has given me useful pointers
to people and places of interest
in locations that I hardly knew.
Now I'm intrigued to see
whether it can also light up for me
the capital where I've lived all my life.
On my journey today I'll be visiting
one of the country's grandest railway hotels.
When I was a child I believed the witches
lived in here. It was so dark and dingy.
Very scary as a child.
I'll head to one of the oldest markets
in Central London.
Do they behave nicely with you?
Watch their P's and Q's?
Sometimes. Not always, no.
(Laughter)
If you were single you'd have a good time.
(Chimes)
And I'll be discovering how the capital
has rung in the changes since Bradshaw's day.
(Resounding chime)
All this week We been travelling from Buxton,
along one of the earliest railway mules
in England,
first built to transport
freight from north to south.
I've stopped off at towns and cities
recommended by Bradshaw's guide.
And now I'm reaching London.
Today I'll be arriving at St Pancras,
taking the country's first Underground fine
to Smithfield,
ending up in the pan of London 1 know best -
Westminster.
Bradshaw's guide says of London,
"The British metropolis contains the largest
mass of human life, arts, science,
wealth, power and architectural splendour
that exists or ever has existed
in the known annals of mankind."
There in a nutshell
you have Victorian self-confidence.
Victorian bombast.
St Pancras in Bradshaw's time was the gateway
to the most powerful city in the world.
Britain ruled over a massive
and growing empire.
And London was at its heart.
St Pancras is a classic Victorian station, but
where I'm arriving has only recently been built.
This is the vast new Thameslink station,
deep beneath St Pancras International.
And with its neon lights and its electronic signs,
it offers no hint
of the Victorian splendour above us.
(Tannoy announcement)
One edition of Bradshaw's guide
describes that as,
“The vast and magnificent terminus
of the Midland Company,
eclipsing every other.
Having a roof 240 feet across and 150 feet high.
And faced by a splendid hotel."
And climbing up into the station today,
it's every bit as inspiring.
As a Londoner I felt really excited
at the restoration of St Pancras,
a station that once was threatened
with demolition.
And which has now been restored in all its glory.
And I think of the excitement they felt
at the time of Bradshaw's guide,
as one after another
of these massive cathedrals to steam
was built around the ring of the the city,
revolutionising the cityscape
and transforming people's lives.
A London terminus was often designed
to accommodate what its railway transported.
The fine to St Pancras carried beer,
so the station was bum on 800 columns
carefully spaced so that barrels
could be stored underneath.
To the old St Pancras has been added
a starkly modern glass extension,
to provide cover all along the quarter-mile length
of a Eurostar train.
Everybody talks about the Victorian bit.
What do you think of the new bit down there?
It's simple - nice and simple.
- It's only four platforms.
- Hm.
- It just does the job.
- It just does the job, yeah.
- What do you think of the way they've done it?
- It's a nice place to work.
Nice and bright. Nice and clean, hopefully.
(Laughs) No, it looks very clean indeed.
(Tannoy announcement)
In 1868 this was the largest enclosed space
in the world.
St Pancras was designed
to outshine the neighbouring stations.
The modem redevelopment
is no less ambitious at a cost of £800 million.
The roof has been faithfully restored,
with the ironwork in the original sky-blue colour.
And it's still a crowd-pleaser.
Look at what's going on behind me.
Tour groups - one after another,
being shown around St Pancras Station.
Being shown around a station!
Do you know when tourists last bothered
to look around a British station?
Back in the time of Bradshaw's guide,
that's when.
Don't you think it's marvellous that railway
stations are now a focus for tourists?
I do. And I'm so pleased it wasn't pulled down
as they wanted it to be.
- Yeah.
- Wonderful.
- And do you know who saved it?
- John Betjeman.
I learnt that this morning from our guide.
In the 1960s the station and hotel
bore the soot of a century of steam travel.
They were scheduled for demolition.
The poet John Betjeman mounted
an emotional campaign to save them.
He was successful.
Just ten days before demolition day the station
and the hotel were made listed buildings.
The hotel is now undergoing
a £170 million transformation.
Whilst it sat empty it was protected by
security guard Royden Stock,
during which time
he became an affectionate expert.
Royden, I remember this building when it was
virtually black. How long have you known it?
I've been connected with the building
for about 13 years,
but I've known it all my life.
When I was a child
I believed the witches lived in here.
It was so dark and dingy.
Very scary, actually, as a child.
The great thing from here is to be able to see
these romantic details
I've never been able to see from the ground.
Yes, this is the signature of
Sir George Gilbert Scott,
designed during three weeks in 1865,
towards the end in September.
- He designed the whole thing in three weeks?
- In three weeks he did the competition drawings
which won him the contract,
which was awarded in January 1866.
We've got different detail on each window
as well, which is something most people miss.
The capitals at the columns are different, the
roses either side of the windows are different.
The design around the arches is different.
It's not symmetrical
like most Gothic-revival buildings are.
The Midland Railway wanted to build
the most impressive station and railway hotel
in the country.
The extravagant Gothic style fitted the bin.
Though much of it has been hidden away
for decades.
What historical discoveries have you made
while you've gone on?
There are many. This is one of them -
this ceiling has been uncovered.
This was covered for probably
the best part of a hundred years.
Were you surprised to find this
in such beautiful condition?
Yes. It's amazing.
There were quite a few layers of paint over this.
Once the ceiling's fully repaired it will
be covered over, so you won't see it again.
Not like this, anyway.
It's covered firstly in a protective coat,
so that it's always there.
Then in an intumescent coat
to make it fireproof.
And then we have artists coming back in
to repaint it all.
So it will eventually come back to life.
It's a bit like lost and found.
The hotel catered for the wealthiest travellers
at 14 shillings a night.
Its rooms
were among the most expensive in London.
But over time the tack of en suite bathrooms
drove the guests elsewhere
and it failed to make much money.
We've got something behind this screen
that should surprise you a little.
If you'd like to go in...
(Laughs) Yeah.
It's wonderful, isn't it?
The lovely sweeping staircases.
I thought it was going to remind me of
Parliament,
but actually there's nothing quite as magnificent
in the Parliamentary building
as this floating stair.
- It just floats, doesn't it?
- It does.
It's cantilevered out from the wall
with interlocking treads.
The thing is, what we've got with this building
is quality rather than quantity.
And I'm seeing all the way up to a ceiling...
of stars.
The hotel will reopen for business in 2011.
And before! catch my next train,
there's one last bit I must see.
On my journey I've often paused to admire
railway clocks, which I love.
But this one tells a story.
King's Cross was there first.
St Pancras comes later.
It's built unnecessarily high.
The clock looms down over King's Cross saying:
We're bigger, we're better.
This is commercial rivalry in architecture.
It may seem strange that the stations
were built right next to each other.
But in 1846 Parliament had decreed
that an new lines of the capital
had to stop short of the centre.
It protected the historic buildings
in the heart of London.
And resulted in a revolutionary
new transport system.
The world's first underground.
So I'm about to get on an Underground train.
But not any Underground train -
one that's running on the original line.
The first underground railway in the world:
The Metropolitan Railway
that ran between Paddington and Farringdon.
It was built in 1863 to bring passengers
from the railway termini into the city.
It was also a commuter tine with two special
trains a day for the poorest workers,
charging a third of the normal fare.
Today the Metropolitan fine is one of 11 routes
ferrying three million others across the city
every day.
What is interesting about this section of line
is that every now and again
we pass from being underground
to being above surface.
And that's because these original railway lines
were not dug in tunnel.
A huge trench was dug
and in most places it was covered over.
But gaps were left here and there
because they were steam trains
and there had to be somewhere
for the smoke to escape.
PA: The next station is Farringdon.
Change for National Rail services.
Bradshaw guides were published monthly
from 1839 onwards.
They're not dated
so you need a bit of detective work
to discover the age of any particular edition.
This is Bradshaw's map of London.
What's interesting is the line
that I'm travelling at the moment
between Paddington and Farringdon
isn't shown.
This map must be before 1863.
And of course, much of London,
the suburbs, isn't shown here at all.
But the central bit, the West End, the City,
these are absolutely recognisable,
from a map that's 150 years old.
The next day I'm heading somewhere
that requires a very early start.
It's not yet five in the morning.
I've walked through deserted streets of London.
But I've come across a place
that's humming with activity and noise.
Because this is Smithfield Market,
the meat market,
built around the time
Bradshaw's guide was published,
and looking to all intents and purposes
like an Italianate Victorian railway station.
Bradshaw's says of the new market,
“It's 631 feet long and 246 wide,
and covers 3.6 square acres."
But what made Smithfield Market exceptional
was the direct link from the building
to the brand-new underground railway.
- Morning, Alan. How are you?
- Good morning, sir.
Alan Eland is a traditional market trader.
Have you worked here long?
- On the market 40 years.
- 40 years?
In the very early days
I wasn't actually working here,
but where the car park is was a railway system.
And the main transport was rail.
The Underground station
transformed the market.
Before that animals were slaughtered on site,
and conditions were filthy.
But with the trains the meat
could be slaughtered elsewhere
and transported quickly to the city.
The market cleaned up its act.
I used to come up as a
little child and see it all.
You can't believe what it was like then.
It was just so... buzzing and lively.
You know, so many people. Smithfield was
the hub of the meat industry, no doubt there.
To a newcomer like me
it seems pretty buzzy anyway.
Yeah, well, it is,
but in a different way, son of thing.
I mean, how much has it changed? Cos it is
a Victorian building and that's unchanged.
Dramatically. About ten years ago
it was upgraded.
This parts the same, but the shops' interiors
dramatically changed ten years ago.
Everything was open, everything was open,
and now you'll find out this is all refrigerated.
But the basic process I guess is the same.
- Meat is coming from all over Britain, is it?
- Yes.
- And people are coming here early to buy it?
- Yes.
The actual idea is the same.
We get the meat, cut it, process it.
It comes in, it goes out.
There's another thing I'm guessing
hasn't changed since Bradshaw's day.
- Morning.
- Morning.
There's barely a woman in sight.
So I've had to Jock hard to find these two.
- Good morning.
- Hello.
- Good morning.
- Morning.
You're up bright and early.
(Laughter)
You don't look like professional meat buyers.
Are you buying for yourselves?
- We are.
- Yes.
And why have you come down so early
to buy meat at Smithfield?
She's having a party.
I can see your bags on the floor here.
You're really going for it.
What time did you have to get up?
I got up at half-three, because we live in Kent.
Half-past...? Wow.
Eventually,
I find a woman who actually works here.
- Good morning.
- Morning!
- I can see you're the money lady.
- Yes.
What time do you have to get up in the morning?
I get up about twenty-past one.
And I get home about ten o'clock in the morning.
It's just so nice to see a lady's face in the
market, cos there aren't so many, are there?
No, it's very male-orientated.
Why do you think that is? We have
lady train drivers, bus drivers, taxi drivers.
Why not working in the meat market?
I think it's always been male
and it's always going to be...
I think it's a strength thing. They think
you probably can't lift up the boxes
cos they're quite heavy.
Do they behave nicely with you?
Watch their P's and Q's?
- Sometimes. Not always, no.
- (Laughs)
If you were single you'd have a good time.
Well, I confess, when I finish work it's
quite nice to go somewhere and have a drink.
And just because you begin work
at two or three in the morning
no reason why it should be different.
And so here for Smithfield
there are special licensing laws
to allow people to have a tipple
when they knock off work at 6am.
MAN: That's early.
- (Laughs)
When the long night's work is done,
market traders come to The Cock Tavern,
which has been here for around 150 years.
Thank you. That looks lovely. Thank you.
Are you the famous Carmen?
I am. I don't know about famous,
but I'm Carmen.
Have you got time to sit down?
Carmen Lesley is a chef at the pub
and works from before dawn
feeding hungry market traders.
- How long have you worked here?
- 43 years.
43 years? That's a very long time in one pub.
Yeah, but you see, it's a famous pub.
At one time I wouldn't have been allowed
in here because I wasn't part of the market.
No. No, nobody. Well, you are different
so they'd probably let you in.
Prince Charles was here,
the Queen Mother was here.
Quite a few famous people, actually.
You've brought me a very, very nice breakfast.
Does this all come from the market?
- They're all from the market.
- Really?
- Everything, even the eggs.
- Even the eggs?
The hens didn't lay the eggs here.
(Both laugh)
But it comes from the market. Everything.
I don't normally have a pint
at this time of the morning,
but I'm thinking it's like I didn't go to bed,
I've been partying all night.
- Have you?
- No.
After my trader's breakfast it's time to leave
the market for the final part of my journey.
Following in Bradshaw's footsteps,
I'm heading off on his walking tour of the capital
to take in the best sights.
And I'm starting with one of the most impressive.
You know the great thing about St Paul's?
It's huge, but it's elegant.
It's sophisticated.
It's the idea of a single man,
Sir Christopher Wren.
And I love standing here,
because you realise its size.
But now with all the skyscrapers,
we're in danger of forgetting
just what a massive achievement
this cathedral is... in every sense.
Bradshaw's guide recommends
that you stand in the middle of Waterloo Bridge
and pick out St Paul's, Somerset House
and the Houses of Parliament.
It's striking to me that we've had 150 years
of development since.
And to me, at least,
those three buildings are still
the outstanding features of this riverscape.
The river takes me to a pan of London
I know extremely well.
So my rail journey from Buxton to London
has brought me home in a rather literal way.
This is Whitehall, and at one time I used to live
in a flat up there in Admiralty House.
But just a few yards further on
is a place I know better than most,
having spent 20 years here.
The new Houses of Parliament were opened
just as my guidebook was going to press.
And it refers to this as the most important
building in London since St Paul's
and talks about it
as the most perfect thing ever planned.
The most striking thing of all
was the Clock Tower.
And from what I remember from my last visit
there during my last days as an MP,
there's an important link between the clock
and the railways.
The Clock Tower
isn't generally open to the public.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven...
(Continues counting)
But a great privilege of being a former MP
is that I'm allowed to climb up it.
271, 272.
I know why you're here.
273, 274...
And with 334 steps I'm glad I had that breakfast
back at Smithfield's.
(Laughs) That's quite a flight of stairs
you've got there.
Finally, We reached the top where I'm meeting
Ian Westwonh and Paul Robeson
who maintain
the Palace of Westminster's clocks.
They're doing a job that hasn't changed
since Bradshaw's day.
We've got to keep the clock
within two seconds of time.
And we do this by adjusting -
by putting one penny on speeds the clock up
by two-fifths of a second over 24 hours.
If you take it off it slows the clock down
by the same amount.
What it does, it lifts the centre of gravity
and that effectively shortens the pendulum itself.
Just by putting a penny on or taking it off
that's how we can keep it so accurate.
And those are pre-decimal pennies?
Yes, we've got about 11 pennies on there
at the moment to keep it in time.
Why was it so important
to have an accurate clock?
It's because of the railways, basically.
Britain had time zones all over the place,
up to 16 minutes away down in Plymouth.
So what they did,
they wanted to standardise the time.
So if they had one very accurate
timekeeper here, one at Greenwich,
that's the way they could come about
Greenwich Mean Time,
and standardising
the whole of the time for Britain.
Standardised time made the business of running
railways and catching trains very much easier.
The pendulum is 15 feet long
and it ticks every two seconds.
And it's such a relaxing sort of sound,
the two-second tick. It's fantastic.
We're often asked:
Doesn't the ticking send you to sleep?
But we always reply that it does,
but only for 15 minutes at a time.
(Laughter)
Big Ben rang out its first chimes in 1859,
and having come up this far it would be crazy
not to go all the way up to the belt chamber.
Although there are five bells,
the famous “Dongs“ which chime the hour
are rung by the biggest one.
All 13 and a half tons of it.
And this is properly Big Ben.
So many people call the Clock Tower Big Ben,
but that be” is Big Ben.
When Big Ben sounds
what's it like to be standing here?
Loud. That's why we give you ear defenders.
It's about 117 decibels when it's up here.
But it's a lovely tone.
Slightly flat cos of the cracks in it.
It's a lovely tone, really distinctive.
What you're going to see in about 30 seconds is
the hammer on the third-quarter be” will move
and that's the signal
for the start of the 16 notes for the chime.
Then there's a pause of eight seconds
and the hammer on the great be” will go.
So if you keep your eye on that hammer
across there it doesn't come as a shock then.
There we go.
(Chiming)
(Chiming continues)
There's certainly plenty of vibration,
and we've only had the small bells so far.
And now we're waiting for
the big daddy of them all.
- Do your stuff, Big Ben.
- (Resounding chime)
(Chimes continue)
The iron structure all around us is absolutely
shaking and vibrating and humming still.
I don't think there would be an amusement
you could take in the world,
there's no big dipper that would compare
with the excitement...
- I can take these out now.
- Yes.
of being next to that great big bell
when it goes off.
It's fantastic, isn't it?
It's been doing that for 150 years.
It's awesome.
Sometimes during the course of my rail journey
around Britain using Bradshaw's guide,
I've scoffed at its 19th-century arrogance.
Those people were so confident
that they were the greatest.
But as I stand here by the Victorian building
where I spent most of my career
I realise that without their architecture,
their science and their railways,
we would not be who we are today.
And during my travels
I've discovered that the things we do best today
are inspired by passion
and a commitment to quality
for which the inspiration could be
Bradshaw's generation.
And for the last leg of my journey
I've no need for Bradshaw's guide,
I'm on my way home.
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.
I'm now on the last stage of my rail journey
from Buxton to London.
I've found my Victorian Bradshaw's guide
has given me useful pointers
to people and places of interest
in locations that I hardly knew.
Now I'm intrigued to see
whether it can also light up for me
the capital where I've lived all my life.
On my journey today I'll be visiting
one of the country's grandest railway hotels.
When I was a child I believed the witches
lived in here. It was so dark and dingy.
Very scary as a child.
I'll head to one of the oldest markets
in Central London.
Do they behave nicely with you?
Watch their P's and Q's?
Sometimes. Not always, no.
(Laughter)
If you were single you'd have a good time.
(Chimes)
And I'll be discovering how the capital
has rung in the changes since Bradshaw's day.
(Resounding chime)
All this week We been travelling from Buxton,
along one of the earliest railway mules
in England,
first built to transport
freight from north to south.
I've stopped off at towns and cities
recommended by Bradshaw's guide.
And now I'm reaching London.
Today I'll be arriving at St Pancras,
taking the country's first Underground fine
to Smithfield,
ending up in the pan of London 1 know best -
Westminster.
Bradshaw's guide says of London,
"The British metropolis contains the largest
mass of human life, arts, science,
wealth, power and architectural splendour
that exists or ever has existed
in the known annals of mankind."
There in a nutshell
you have Victorian self-confidence.
Victorian bombast.
St Pancras in Bradshaw's time was the gateway
to the most powerful city in the world.
Britain ruled over a massive
and growing empire.
And London was at its heart.
St Pancras is a classic Victorian station, but
where I'm arriving has only recently been built.
This is the vast new Thameslink station,
deep beneath St Pancras International.
And with its neon lights and its electronic signs,
it offers no hint
of the Victorian splendour above us.
(Tannoy announcement)
One edition of Bradshaw's guide
describes that as,
“The vast and magnificent terminus
of the Midland Company,
eclipsing every other.
Having a roof 240 feet across and 150 feet high.
And faced by a splendid hotel."
And climbing up into the station today,
it's every bit as inspiring.
As a Londoner I felt really excited
at the restoration of St Pancras,
a station that once was threatened
with demolition.
And which has now been restored in all its glory.
And I think of the excitement they felt
at the time of Bradshaw's guide,
as one after another
of these massive cathedrals to steam
was built around the ring of the the city,
revolutionising the cityscape
and transforming people's lives.
A London terminus was often designed
to accommodate what its railway transported.
The fine to St Pancras carried beer,
so the station was bum on 800 columns
carefully spaced so that barrels
could be stored underneath.
To the old St Pancras has been added
a starkly modern glass extension,
to provide cover all along the quarter-mile length
of a Eurostar train.
Everybody talks about the Victorian bit.
What do you think of the new bit down there?
It's simple - nice and simple.
- It's only four platforms.
- Hm.
- It just does the job.
- It just does the job, yeah.
- What do you think of the way they've done it?
- It's a nice place to work.
Nice and bright. Nice and clean, hopefully.
(Laughs) No, it looks very clean indeed.
(Tannoy announcement)
In 1868 this was the largest enclosed space
in the world.
St Pancras was designed
to outshine the neighbouring stations.
The modem redevelopment
is no less ambitious at a cost of £800 million.
The roof has been faithfully restored,
with the ironwork in the original sky-blue colour.
And it's still a crowd-pleaser.
Look at what's going on behind me.
Tour groups - one after another,
being shown around St Pancras Station.
Being shown around a station!
Do you know when tourists last bothered
to look around a British station?
Back in the time of Bradshaw's guide,
that's when.
Don't you think it's marvellous that railway
stations are now a focus for tourists?
I do. And I'm so pleased it wasn't pulled down
as they wanted it to be.
- Yeah.
- Wonderful.
- And do you know who saved it?
- John Betjeman.
I learnt that this morning from our guide.
In the 1960s the station and hotel
bore the soot of a century of steam travel.
They were scheduled for demolition.
The poet John Betjeman mounted
an emotional campaign to save them.
He was successful.
Just ten days before demolition day the station
and the hotel were made listed buildings.
The hotel is now undergoing
a £170 million transformation.
Whilst it sat empty it was protected by
security guard Royden Stock,
during which time
he became an affectionate expert.
Royden, I remember this building when it was
virtually black. How long have you known it?
I've been connected with the building
for about 13 years,
but I've known it all my life.
When I was a child
I believed the witches lived in here.
It was so dark and dingy.
Very scary, actually, as a child.
The great thing from here is to be able to see
these romantic details
I've never been able to see from the ground.
Yes, this is the signature of
Sir George Gilbert Scott,
designed during three weeks in 1865,
towards the end in September.
- He designed the whole thing in three weeks?
- In three weeks he did the competition drawings
which won him the contract,
which was awarded in January 1866.
We've got different detail on each window
as well, which is something most people miss.
The capitals at the columns are different, the
roses either side of the windows are different.
The design around the arches is different.
It's not symmetrical
like most Gothic-revival buildings are.
The Midland Railway wanted to build
the most impressive station and railway hotel
in the country.
The extravagant Gothic style fitted the bin.
Though much of it has been hidden away
for decades.
What historical discoveries have you made
while you've gone on?
There are many. This is one of them -
this ceiling has been uncovered.
This was covered for probably
the best part of a hundred years.
Were you surprised to find this
in such beautiful condition?
Yes. It's amazing.
There were quite a few layers of paint over this.
Once the ceiling's fully repaired it will
be covered over, so you won't see it again.
Not like this, anyway.
It's covered firstly in a protective coat,
so that it's always there.
Then in an intumescent coat
to make it fireproof.
And then we have artists coming back in
to repaint it all.
So it will eventually come back to life.
It's a bit like lost and found.
The hotel catered for the wealthiest travellers
at 14 shillings a night.
Its rooms
were among the most expensive in London.
But over time the tack of en suite bathrooms
drove the guests elsewhere
and it failed to make much money.
We've got something behind this screen
that should surprise you a little.
If you'd like to go in...
(Laughs) Yeah.
It's wonderful, isn't it?
The lovely sweeping staircases.
I thought it was going to remind me of
Parliament,
but actually there's nothing quite as magnificent
in the Parliamentary building
as this floating stair.
- It just floats, doesn't it?
- It does.
It's cantilevered out from the wall
with interlocking treads.
The thing is, what we've got with this building
is quality rather than quantity.
And I'm seeing all the way up to a ceiling...
of stars.
The hotel will reopen for business in 2011.
And before! catch my next train,
there's one last bit I must see.
On my journey I've often paused to admire
railway clocks, which I love.
But this one tells a story.
King's Cross was there first.
St Pancras comes later.
It's built unnecessarily high.
The clock looms down over King's Cross saying:
We're bigger, we're better.
This is commercial rivalry in architecture.
It may seem strange that the stations
were built right next to each other.
But in 1846 Parliament had decreed
that an new lines of the capital
had to stop short of the centre.
It protected the historic buildings
in the heart of London.
And resulted in a revolutionary
new transport system.
The world's first underground.
So I'm about to get on an Underground train.
But not any Underground train -
one that's running on the original line.
The first underground railway in the world:
The Metropolitan Railway
that ran between Paddington and Farringdon.
It was built in 1863 to bring passengers
from the railway termini into the city.
It was also a commuter tine with two special
trains a day for the poorest workers,
charging a third of the normal fare.
Today the Metropolitan fine is one of 11 routes
ferrying three million others across the city
every day.
What is interesting about this section of line
is that every now and again
we pass from being underground
to being above surface.
And that's because these original railway lines
were not dug in tunnel.
A huge trench was dug
and in most places it was covered over.
But gaps were left here and there
because they were steam trains
and there had to be somewhere
for the smoke to escape.
PA: The next station is Farringdon.
Change for National Rail services.
Bradshaw guides were published monthly
from 1839 onwards.
They're not dated
so you need a bit of detective work
to discover the age of any particular edition.
This is Bradshaw's map of London.
What's interesting is the line
that I'm travelling at the moment
between Paddington and Farringdon
isn't shown.
This map must be before 1863.
And of course, much of London,
the suburbs, isn't shown here at all.
But the central bit, the West End, the City,
these are absolutely recognisable,
from a map that's 150 years old.
The next day I'm heading somewhere
that requires a very early start.
It's not yet five in the morning.
I've walked through deserted streets of London.
But I've come across a place
that's humming with activity and noise.
Because this is Smithfield Market,
the meat market,
built around the time
Bradshaw's guide was published,
and looking to all intents and purposes
like an Italianate Victorian railway station.
Bradshaw's says of the new market,
“It's 631 feet long and 246 wide,
and covers 3.6 square acres."
But what made Smithfield Market exceptional
was the direct link from the building
to the brand-new underground railway.
- Morning, Alan. How are you?
- Good morning, sir.
Alan Eland is a traditional market trader.
Have you worked here long?
- On the market 40 years.
- 40 years?
In the very early days
I wasn't actually working here,
but where the car park is was a railway system.
And the main transport was rail.
The Underground station
transformed the market.
Before that animals were slaughtered on site,
and conditions were filthy.
But with the trains the meat
could be slaughtered elsewhere
and transported quickly to the city.
The market cleaned up its act.
I used to come up as a
little child and see it all.
You can't believe what it was like then.
It was just so... buzzing and lively.
You know, so many people. Smithfield was
the hub of the meat industry, no doubt there.
To a newcomer like me
it seems pretty buzzy anyway.
Yeah, well, it is,
but in a different way, son of thing.
I mean, how much has it changed? Cos it is
a Victorian building and that's unchanged.
Dramatically. About ten years ago
it was upgraded.
This parts the same, but the shops' interiors
dramatically changed ten years ago.
Everything was open, everything was open,
and now you'll find out this is all refrigerated.
But the basic process I guess is the same.
- Meat is coming from all over Britain, is it?
- Yes.
- And people are coming here early to buy it?
- Yes.
The actual idea is the same.
We get the meat, cut it, process it.
It comes in, it goes out.
There's another thing I'm guessing
hasn't changed since Bradshaw's day.
- Morning.
- Morning.
There's barely a woman in sight.
So I've had to Jock hard to find these two.
- Good morning.
- Hello.
- Good morning.
- Morning.
You're up bright and early.
(Laughter)
You don't look like professional meat buyers.
Are you buying for yourselves?
- We are.
- Yes.
And why have you come down so early
to buy meat at Smithfield?
She's having a party.
I can see your bags on the floor here.
You're really going for it.
What time did you have to get up?
I got up at half-three, because we live in Kent.
Half-past...? Wow.
Eventually,
I find a woman who actually works here.
- Good morning.
- Morning!
- I can see you're the money lady.
- Yes.
What time do you have to get up in the morning?
I get up about twenty-past one.
And I get home about ten o'clock in the morning.
It's just so nice to see a lady's face in the
market, cos there aren't so many, are there?
No, it's very male-orientated.
Why do you think that is? We have
lady train drivers, bus drivers, taxi drivers.
Why not working in the meat market?
I think it's always been male
and it's always going to be...
I think it's a strength thing. They think
you probably can't lift up the boxes
cos they're quite heavy.
Do they behave nicely with you?
Watch their P's and Q's?
- Sometimes. Not always, no.
- (Laughs)
If you were single you'd have a good time.
Well, I confess, when I finish work it's
quite nice to go somewhere and have a drink.
And just because you begin work
at two or three in the morning
no reason why it should be different.
And so here for Smithfield
there are special licensing laws
to allow people to have a tipple
when they knock off work at 6am.
MAN: That's early.
- (Laughs)
When the long night's work is done,
market traders come to The Cock Tavern,
which has been here for around 150 years.
Thank you. That looks lovely. Thank you.
Are you the famous Carmen?
I am. I don't know about famous,
but I'm Carmen.
Have you got time to sit down?
Carmen Lesley is a chef at the pub
and works from before dawn
feeding hungry market traders.
- How long have you worked here?
- 43 years.
43 years? That's a very long time in one pub.
Yeah, but you see, it's a famous pub.
At one time I wouldn't have been allowed
in here because I wasn't part of the market.
No. No, nobody. Well, you are different
so they'd probably let you in.
Prince Charles was here,
the Queen Mother was here.
Quite a few famous people, actually.
You've brought me a very, very nice breakfast.
Does this all come from the market?
- They're all from the market.
- Really?
- Everything, even the eggs.
- Even the eggs?
The hens didn't lay the eggs here.
(Both laugh)
But it comes from the market. Everything.
I don't normally have a pint
at this time of the morning,
but I'm thinking it's like I didn't go to bed,
I've been partying all night.
- Have you?
- No.
After my trader's breakfast it's time to leave
the market for the final part of my journey.
Following in Bradshaw's footsteps,
I'm heading off on his walking tour of the capital
to take in the best sights.
And I'm starting with one of the most impressive.
You know the great thing about St Paul's?
It's huge, but it's elegant.
It's sophisticated.
It's the idea of a single man,
Sir Christopher Wren.
And I love standing here,
because you realise its size.
But now with all the skyscrapers,
we're in danger of forgetting
just what a massive achievement
this cathedral is... in every sense.
Bradshaw's guide recommends
that you stand in the middle of Waterloo Bridge
and pick out St Paul's, Somerset House
and the Houses of Parliament.
It's striking to me that we've had 150 years
of development since.
And to me, at least,
those three buildings are still
the outstanding features of this riverscape.
The river takes me to a pan of London
I know extremely well.
So my rail journey from Buxton to London
has brought me home in a rather literal way.
This is Whitehall, and at one time I used to live
in a flat up there in Admiralty House.
But just a few yards further on
is a place I know better than most,
having spent 20 years here.
The new Houses of Parliament were opened
just as my guidebook was going to press.
And it refers to this as the most important
building in London since St Paul's
and talks about it
as the most perfect thing ever planned.
The most striking thing of all
was the Clock Tower.
And from what I remember from my last visit
there during my last days as an MP,
there's an important link between the clock
and the railways.
The Clock Tower
isn't generally open to the public.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven...
(Continues counting)
But a great privilege of being a former MP
is that I'm allowed to climb up it.
271, 272.
I know why you're here.
273, 274...
And with 334 steps I'm glad I had that breakfast
back at Smithfield's.
(Laughs) That's quite a flight of stairs
you've got there.
Finally, We reached the top where I'm meeting
Ian Westwonh and Paul Robeson
who maintain
the Palace of Westminster's clocks.
They're doing a job that hasn't changed
since Bradshaw's day.
We've got to keep the clock
within two seconds of time.
And we do this by adjusting -
by putting one penny on speeds the clock up
by two-fifths of a second over 24 hours.
If you take it off it slows the clock down
by the same amount.
What it does, it lifts the centre of gravity
and that effectively shortens the pendulum itself.
Just by putting a penny on or taking it off
that's how we can keep it so accurate.
And those are pre-decimal pennies?
Yes, we've got about 11 pennies on there
at the moment to keep it in time.
Why was it so important
to have an accurate clock?
It's because of the railways, basically.
Britain had time zones all over the place,
up to 16 minutes away down in Plymouth.
So what they did,
they wanted to standardise the time.
So if they had one very accurate
timekeeper here, one at Greenwich,
that's the way they could come about
Greenwich Mean Time,
and standardising
the whole of the time for Britain.
Standardised time made the business of running
railways and catching trains very much easier.
The pendulum is 15 feet long
and it ticks every two seconds.
And it's such a relaxing sort of sound,
the two-second tick. It's fantastic.
We're often asked:
Doesn't the ticking send you to sleep?
But we always reply that it does,
but only for 15 minutes at a time.
(Laughter)
Big Ben rang out its first chimes in 1859,
and having come up this far it would be crazy
not to go all the way up to the belt chamber.
Although there are five bells,
the famous “Dongs“ which chime the hour
are rung by the biggest one.
All 13 and a half tons of it.
And this is properly Big Ben.
So many people call the Clock Tower Big Ben,
but that be” is Big Ben.
When Big Ben sounds
what's it like to be standing here?
Loud. That's why we give you ear defenders.
It's about 117 decibels when it's up here.
But it's a lovely tone.
Slightly flat cos of the cracks in it.
It's a lovely tone, really distinctive.
What you're going to see in about 30 seconds is
the hammer on the third-quarter be” will move
and that's the signal
for the start of the 16 notes for the chime.
Then there's a pause of eight seconds
and the hammer on the great be” will go.
So if you keep your eye on that hammer
across there it doesn't come as a shock then.
There we go.
(Chiming)
(Chiming continues)
There's certainly plenty of vibration,
and we've only had the small bells so far.
And now we're waiting for
the big daddy of them all.
- Do your stuff, Big Ben.
- (Resounding chime)
(Chimes continue)
The iron structure all around us is absolutely
shaking and vibrating and humming still.
I don't think there would be an amusement
you could take in the world,
there's no big dipper that would compare
with the excitement...
- I can take these out now.
- Yes.
of being next to that great big bell
when it goes off.
It's fantastic, isn't it?
It's been doing that for 150 years.
It's awesome.
Sometimes during the course of my rail journey
around Britain using Bradshaw's guide,
I've scoffed at its 19th-century arrogance.
Those people were so confident
that they were the greatest.
But as I stand here by the Victorian building
where I spent most of my career
I realise that without their architecture,
their science and their railways,
we would not be who we are today.
And during my travels
I've discovered that the things we do best today
are inspired by passion
and a commitment to quality
for which the inspiration could be
Bradshaw's generation.
And for the last leg of my journey
I've no need for Bradshaw's guide,
I'm on my way home.