Great British Railway Journeys (2010–…): Season 3, Episode 14 - Cardiff to Brecon - 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 a series of journeys across
the length and breadth of the country
to see what of Bradshaw's Britain
remains.
Continuing my journey,
my Bradshaw's is guiding me through
the beautiful county of Worcestershire.
From these lands, some harvested crops,
others divined water
and one in particular
drew divine inspiration.
On this stretch,
I'll be visiting the home of
Queen Victoria's favourite bishop...
She commented that Bishop Perowne
had the best legs in tights
of any man on the Episcopal bench.
Sniffing out the secrets of
a famous 19th-century condiment...
That's a glorious smell,
but very concentrated.
And following in the footsteps
of Victorian health fanatics.
There'd be wet towels Mapped around you
and water poured upon you
from a ghastly height.
- So, actually, pretty bracing stuff.
- Bracing, indeed.
I'm travelling from central England
to the west coast of Wales.
So far, We explored
the stunning Cotswolds,
and now I'm continuing west,
through Worcestershire.
Then I'll cross the border to hunt out
South Wales's industrial legacy,
finishing up at Milford Haven.
This leg covers 25 miles.
From Hartlebury via Worcester,
and on to the beautiful Malvern Hills.
My Bradshaw's is leading me
to Hartlebury Castle.
"For many centuries, the residence
of the bishops of Worcester."
"The library of Bishop Hurd,
together with some of Pope and
Warburton's books are at the castle."
Clearly, these bishops
were a force in the land.
The pages of my guidebook
are peppered with references
to the residences of Britain's elite.
Just as today's tourists
flock to Britain's stately homes,
Victorian railway travellers
could arrange a private tour
of an outstanding country pile
by writing to the housekeeper.
In the 19th century, bishops were
at the top of the social tree.
And their palaces could rival
the grandest ancestral seats.
The Bishop of Worcester's home
was no exception.
The first time I've ever seen
Hartlebury Castle.
Huge, magnificent, imposing.
But not particularly like a castle.
My tour will be led by Alison Brlmelow,
who chairs the Castle's
Preservation Trust.
- (Alison) Welcome to Hartlebury.
- (Michael) It's awe-inspiring.
I've been brought here by my Bradshaw's,
which says that it's the residence
of the bishops of Worcester.
- Does that remain the case?
- Unfortunately, no.
In 2007,
the bishop was moved to Worcester
because this is too big
and too expensive.
But it has been home to bishops
for more than a thousand years,
and the house tells their story.
The first building on this site
was a moated castle,
built as a fortress for the bishop
in the 13th century.
It was rebuilt in the 1700s
as this lavish private home.
And exploring it today,
I can see why readers of my guidebook
were interested in its rich history.
(Alison) This is the medieval
great hall of the castle,
amended in the light of
18th-century taste.
But very much the heart of the castle
from the Middle Ages onwards,
so the oldest part that you can see.
The portraits that line the great hall
testify to the might and celebrity
that the bishops once enjoyed.
What sort of temporal
or political power did bishops have?
It developed over the years.
In the Middle Ages,
and indeed pre-Middle Ages,
they were part of the political
power structure of the country.
They mattered to the King,
they mattered to the warlords.
They had money and access to people.
Close to what was then regarded
as frontier territory with Wales.
The Severn, and beyond that,
the risk of clashes with the Welsh.
So, this place really mattered
to political stability
in this pan of England.
By Victorian times,
the bishops no longer raised armies,
but still played a role in politics,
as is the case today.
Senior bishops satin
the House of Lords,
and many of them were
prominent public figures.
Do you have any eminent Victorians?
We have a number of eminent Victorians.
But my favourite is Bishop Perowne
because of what Queen Victoria
said about him.
He was bishop at the end
of the 19th century.
So Victoria was, already,
not a young woman.
And she commented that Bishop Perowne
had the best legs in tights
of any man on the Episcopal bench.
It's good to know that the royal eye
was still all-seeing.
Touring this palatial home,
I can see why my Victorian guidebook
thought it worthy of note.
One room given special mention
is the library.
So before I leave,
I would love to see it.
This is the library that
Bishop Hurd commissioned in 1781
when he came here as bishop.
He already had this wonderful
collection of books.
And when he got here, he found
there wasn't a library to put them in.
So he set about
rectifying that omission
and commissioned an architect
in Shifnal, up the road,
to build him a library
at the back of the house.
I just absolutely love it.
I think it's the most beautiful room
I've seen for a long time.
Oh, it's exquisite, isn't it?
Apparently, Queen Victories grandfather
enjoyed a meal in this very room.
Bishop Hurd was a great friend of King
George Ill and his wife Queen Charlotte.
And in 1788, he came to visit
Hurd here, visited the castle,
and had breakfast in this bay window.
(Michael)
So, George Ill breakfasted here?
(Alison) And his nephew has left us
a wonderful manuscript record
of what happened.
And if you look at this page here,
you can see what they had for breakfast.
Tea, coffee, chocolate, pretty ordinary.
Fruit, which is nice and healthy.
And jellies, which, to me,
is children's afternoon tea.
This castle stands as a reminder
of the bishops' historic power.
Even in the railway age,
they tried to assert their influence.
During the 19th century, one of the
bishops of Worcester, Bishop Philpott,
complained that the station had been
placed too far from Hartlebury castle
and that there was no conveyance to be
had anywhere nearer than Kidderminster.
He also moaned
that there was no waiting room,
which seems to be
the case today as well.
Luckily, in fine weather,
I don't miss it.
My journey continues south, towards
this county's superb cathedral city.
I'm headed for Worcester.
My Bradshaw's says that it's known
for china, and boots and shoes.
Well, I don't think of Worcester boots
and Worcester shoes any more,
but the city's name is still
inextricably linked
with a world-famous
Victorian concoction.
I'm getting off at Worcester's
Shrub Hill Station.
It opened in 1850,
and the current Georgian-style building
dates from 1865.
Soon after the railway arrived here,
it helped a small local company
to become one of Britain's
best-known brands.
We come to the Victorian factory
to meet manager Nigel Dickie.
I've entered a fragrant, pungent,
aromatic world here, haven't I?
It's wonderful, isn't it?
This factory was opened in 1897.
It was a purpose-built factory.
I noticed that
Shrub Hill Station is close by,
so the railways were important in the
history of Worcester sauce, were they'?
Absolutely critical. Mr Lea
and Mr Perrins needed bigger premises.
And the fact that this land
was purchased from the railways,
and then, using the Shrub Hill Station
and the goods yard there,
ingredients were being brought in,
product was being sent out
that would end up in
200 countries around the world.
Worcestershire sauce was born
in the age of Victorian imperialism.
As the empire expanded,
people developed more exotic tastes.
One such adventurous gourmet
is said to be behind the recipe
for this famous sauce.
The story goes that Lord Sandys,
a nobleman of this area,
who had reputedly held
a variety of offices,
including the Governor of Bengal,
came back from his travels
with this recipe
and he went to two Victorian chemists
in Broad Street in Worcester
and asked them to make up the recipe.
They did,
with these variety of
international ingredients.
But actually, when they tasted it,
it was quite horrible.
It was harsh, it was unpleasant.
And so they put it down
in the basement, in the cellar,
left it there for a year or so,
and when they were clearing out,
they came across it again,
tasted it,
and found that it had matured
into this wonderful, wonderful sauce.
Amazingly, this curious
blend of ingredients,
including anchovies,
garlic and tamarind,
took off with the British public.
Exports began in the 1840s,
and it was soon in international demand.
Why is it so popular?
It's something that makes a tomato juice
that little bit special.
Tomato juice, my foot.
It makes a Bloody Mary taste very good.
That's true, Michael.
The exact recipe is
a closely-guarded secret.
And the technique of maturing
the ingredients remains crucial.
(Nigel) This is where the process
all comes together.
Pungent smell in here. It's getting
right to the back of my throat.
That's the malt vinegar.
And that's what these ingredients have
been quietly and gently maturing in.
So, if we look here, Michael,
we've got red skin onions.
And... let's have a look here.
- (Nigel) Sea?
- (Michael laughs)
Ah, that does hit you.
A glorious smell,
but a very concentrated smell, isn't it?
(Nigel) Got the French garlic.
- It's huge, isn't it? That is huge.
- It's very, very good.
(Michael)
Let me have a go at the anchovies.
These will be the big daddy of smell,
I imagine.
Well, try that for size.
(Nigel) These anchovies
are soaked in salt.
Not too bad at all, actually.
No, they're an essential
part of the ingredients.
I mean, fishy, of course.
But no, not bad at all.
In Victorian times, the ingredients
were aged in wooden barrels.
Nowadays, they're plastic.
But in most other ways,
the process is unchanged.
Do not attempt this at home.
I never realised how much there was
to know about Worcestershire sauce.
But it's the genius of the
Victorian imperialists, isn't it?
You go to the empire, you get a recipe
and you make it fundamentally British.
Absolutely.
I'm leaving the factory
to explore the city centre.
Worcester got its railway late,
in the 1850s,
after a Kong campaign by residents.
The city had always thrived,
thanks to its strategic position
on the River Severn.
But the advent of the Industrial
Revolution saw nearby towns develop
while Worcester was left behind.
It was hoped that a rail link
would boost local industries,
including one that gets
a special mention in my guidebook.
Bradshaw's says of Worcester
that "one distinct branch
of manufacture is glove-making,
to the amount of half a million pairs
of leather and kid gloves annually,
employing between
one and two thousand persons."
And luckily for me,
the hotel where I'm staying tonight
is a convened glove factory.
Gloves had been made here
since the Middle Ages.
And in the 1700s, 30,000 people
were employed in the trade.
By the time the railway arrived,
the industry had
experienced a sharp decline
due to a flood of foreign imports.
But some firms survived by embracing
the latest manufacturing techniques.
We come to one of the factories
built in Victorian times
to meet historian Philippa Tinsley.
So, this was once the
Fownes glove factory?
(Philippa) Yes, absolutely.
So, we opened here in 1887.
And at one point, they had
1,000 people working in this building.
We've got some pictures here
of the seamstresses
working in the sewing rooms.
(Michael) They're absolutely packed in.
They're using sewing machines?
Yes. It became very mechanised in
the beginning of the 19th century.
And Fownes was one of
the great factories here
that really made a success of being
an industrial process of making gloves.
(Michael) Why did the Victorians
wear gloves so much more than we do?
I think a lot of it was to do
with that sense of hygiene.
There was an awful lot of more horrible
things around than we're used to now.
But it was an enormous
fashion thing as well.
I've got a pair here that you can see
that were made at about the same period
that Fownes was opened in the 1880s.
And you can see, just the
exquisite workmanship and lace
and the beautiful buttons
that have gone into creating these.
They loved beautiful things,
didn't they?
Such exquisite detail on that.
19th-century etiquette could require
ladies to be gloved at all times.
But by the late 20th century,
things had changed,
and Worcester's glove trade
came to an end.
This factory closed in 1974.
And now it's going to give me
my bed for the night.
It looks like a fine day.
And I'm in the mood for some music.
On this leg of my trip,
I'm continuing south-west
along a section of line built in 1859.
Of course, the railways
moved around goods and people.
But they also spread ideas and culture.
I'm on my way now to the Malvern Hills,
which were, for much of his life,
home to a composer
whose music I've known since childhood.
Sir Edward Elgar.
In the late 1800s,
the railways helped Elgar
to transform Victorian English music.
I'm alighting at Great Malvern's
stunning station to find out now.
Great Malvern Station
is absolutely magnificent.
I love these columns
decorated with foliage and palms.
And the buildings are exquisite.
The reason for this is that
a great landowner here was a Lady Foley.
And even though this is
a provincial place,
she insisted that it have
a station that is really grand.
The station opened in 1860,
when Elgar lived in hope,
but was yet to achieve glory.
I'm meeting historian Chris Bennett
to near the story.
- Morning.
- Morning.
It seems as though we meet,
really, in an Elgarian setting.
The most perfect railway station.
It's a beautiful Victorian
Great Malvern Station, yeah.
Beautifully preserved,
pretty much as Elgar himself
would have remembered it.
(Michael) Elgar was born
quite early in Victoria's reign.
How important did he become
in Britain's music scene?
He became very important really.
In Victorian times, mid-19th century,
England was really known as
the land without music.
We'd had all these great
German and Austrian composers.
But in England, there'd been
no one since Purcell in the 1700s
who could rank alongside
those great European composers.
And Elgar really did lift
British music back up
to compare with the great Europeans.
Elgar was born in Worcester
and lived most of his life
within sight of the Malvern Hills.
After a brief attempt at living
in London, he fled back in 1891.
But travelling by railway kept him
in touch with music in the capital.
He's the son of person who had to have
new musical experiences.
And whereas there's lots of music in
Worcester and Malvern and Hereford,
I would think it might have been
rather conservative programming.
Elgar was convinced that you had to go
to London to hear the best of new music,
which meant the Crystal Palace concerts,
and that meant a long journey
on the train. But it was possible.
He got up at 6:00 in the morning,
walked to the station,
train at 7:00,
got to London about 11:00,
then the Underground to Victoria,
on to the Crystal Palace.
If he was fortunate, he heard a bit
of the rehearsal in the afternoon,
then the concert at teatime.
Perhaps just over in time
to get the last train back
from Paddington to Worcester.
Home, perhaps, 11:00.
The railway revolution allowed Elgar
to have the best of both worlds,
experiencing avant-garde music
in London,
whilst living among the scenery
that inspired some of his greatest work.
(Michael) It's beautiful country.
What do we know about
how Elgar experienced it'?
We know that Elgar
loved the countryside.
He got so much of his
inspiration from it.
We know this from his diaries
and letters and notebooks.
He was one of these people who would
go on very lengthy walks, bike rides.
Always took his notebooks with him.
And as musical ideas came to him,
he would jot them down.
So, yes, this area, in and around the
Malvern Hills, meant so much to him.
(orchestra plays
“Land of Hope and Glory“)
Success came to Elgar late in life.
But in the 1890s,
his reputation was established.
In 1901,
the year of Queen Victoria's death,
he set words to his
“Pomp and Circumstance March“
for the coronation of Edward VIII.
It has since become
an unofficial English anthem.
In his music,
he certainly captured the countryside,
especially the beautiful
countryside around here,
where we are now in Malvern.
His ceremonial music
perfectly caught the atmosphere
of the great state occasions in London.
Why it is English, I don't know,
but English it certainly is.
And the English absolutely love it.
(song climaxes)
We nearly time for me
to catch my next train.
But first, I've heard there's a curious
sight in the sidings at Malvern Station.
(man) Hello.
Hello. I'm sorry to trouble you.
Good to see you.
Are you living in this thing?
Not at the moment, no.
I'm in the midst of its restoration.
I've spent a couple of years
restoring the outside,
and now I plan to restore the inside
in order to live in.
Subject to planning permission.
Did you find it here at Malvern Station?
No, no, no. I bought it from the
Gloucester Warwickshire Railway
at Winchcombe.
I restored the outside there,
and then brought it here
and put the rails down,
built the platform and put the fence up.
Why would you want to live
in a railway carriage?
- Why not?
- (Michael laughs)
- Would you mind if I come aboard?
- No, come and have a look.
It's beautifully nostalgic
of an old corridor train.
What are you going to do
with the carriage?
How are you going to plan it out?
I've got a plan here that shows
what I planned to do originally.
Being a first-class carriage,
it has seven compartments.
That one's the original compartment
at the end,
which will retain as it is
at the moment.
These two, then,
will be one bedroom/dressing room.
Knocked into one.
This one here is a study
with views towards the hills.
Yes, the view is fantastic.
And then the rest as an open-plan area
with living, dining
and kitchen all-in-one.
How long do you imagine
that's going to take you?
I thought this would take me six months
to a year and it's taken two years now.
It's very much, keep plodding along
with it. Eventually, it will be done.
I think it's fortunate
that you are so young.
Otherwise, you might never
see the fruits of this.
This is very true.
Living in a railway carriage
isn't everyone's idea of luxury.
But in Bradshaw's day, it would not
have been considered a suitable address.
Before I leave Great Malvern Station,
there's a tunnel I want to see,
known as The Worm,
which was originally established for the
convenience of first class passengers
and their luggage.
And such class divisions were
quite typical in Victorian times.
And then it curves round to the right,
and I think it now ends in a dead end.
This tunnel used to link directly
with the old Imperial Hotel,
a smart establishment that gets
a gushing review in my guidebook.
But now the hotel has been
converted into a school,
and first class passengers must
encounter the hoi polloi
as they exit the station.
My last stop for today is just
a hop and a skip up the line
on the outskirts of the town.
I'm on the trail of a natural resource
that help Malvern to thrive
in Victorian times.
Bradshaw's describes the Malvern Hills
as "a healthy, fashionable
and agreeable watering place".
"Limestone and sandstone
with syenite granite, etcetera,
are the chief ingredients in this range,
which is green to the summit."
I must say, I've always
associated the Malvern Hills
with the healthiest and purest water.
To see where this
famous water comes from,
I'm leaving the train at Colwall,
just outside Great Malvern.
Up the road is a public fountain
where, since Victorian times,
passing travellers have had the right
to stop and take refreshment.
I want to sustain that tradition.
Hello. Are you sampling the water?
Yes.
That's absolutely wonderful.
What could be better?
I agree with you.
This water is obviously famous to you?
You knew what to expect?
I did. I came to buy some.
But unfortunately,
they don't sell it here.
So I've got to go to
a local supermarket and buy it.
Or pop down the hill and come back
with a plastic bottle or two.
True, yes.
- Cheers.
- Cheers.
- Mmm.
- Even better than beer.
(both laugh)
These days, we're more likely
to swig our spring water from a bottle,
a trend that can be traced
back to Victorian times
when the railways helped to spread
the taste for Malvern water.
This public fountain is, in fact,
part of a Victorian bottling plant,
thought to be the oldest in the world.
We still operating today,
and is run by Rhys Humm.
Well, I get the impression here
of a highly automated process,
but rather small. I mean, this
looks like a very exclusive water.
It really is, indeed, yes.
We only do 1200 bottles a day,
which sounds a lot, but by
industry standards, it's minuscule.
When this factory opened in 1850,
it was said to have been
Britain's first mineral water business.
And it soon became famous
thanks to a brilliant marketing ploy.
In 1851, the water from this plant was
actually taken to the Great Exhibition
at Crystal Palace.
The Victorians decided
it would be a fabulous idea
to display it in a magnificent ten-tonne
fountain for all people to try.
And this is where Queen Victoria
first came across Malvern water.
The local industry got a further boost
after the railway reached Colwall
in 1861.
(Michael) Now, back in the 19th century,
would the water have been sent
around the country by train?
Indeed, yes.
One of the bottling plants in Malvern
was put near to the railway
station for exactly that reason,
so the water could be shipped out
across to London, in particular,
on the train links.
As the railways transported
water out of Malvern,
they also began to
bring in health tourists
to experience its healing powers.
The water cure was a craze
that swept Victorian society.
Well-to-do visitors flocked to
spa towns to down litres of water
and endure a regime
of cold baths and bracing walks.
Rhys has led me to the source
of one of Malvern's 70 springs.
This is the primary source
of the Holywell spring,
- high up in the Malvern Hills.
- Pouring out down here?
My Bradshaw's refers to the
St Anne's and Holywell springs.
- So this is Holywell.
- Indeed.
And he says, er,
"Water much resorted to and useful,
especially in glandular
and skin complaints."
And it says that pump rooms were built,
attached to each of the wells.
So, why is the water good for people?
We're stood upon thousands and thousands
of tons of Precambrian granite,
which is the oldest rock in the country,
the densest rock in the country.
It does not contribute
a mineral to the water,
as is the case with most mineral waters.
It cleanses and purifies the water.
As such, the water itself is famed
for containing nothing at all.
Thanks to this pure water,
Malvern was made for hydrotherapy,
which "Bradshaw's" says
"is carried out with much success
at the establishments
of Doctors Gully and Wilson“.
Bradshaw refers to two doctors
called Wilson and Gully,
who, apparently, were
involved in hydrotherapy.
Have you any idea what they were up to?
Indeed, yes.
Malvern's famous Victorian water cure.
That ran here for a good,
son of, 40-50 years.
Victorian gentry would come here
and partake of the water cure.
Drinking it or bathing in it, or what?
There would be a lot of drinking of it,
a lot of healthy walking on the hills,
a lot of bathing as well.
A sitz bath, for example,
was a very cold bath.
There would be wet towels
Mapped around you
and water poured upon you
from a ghastly height.
- So, actually pretty bracing stuff.
- Bracing, indeed.
The clinics set up
by the two doctors in Malvern
were among Britain's first
water cure centres.
It was claimed that the regime
could remedy everything
from sore throats to vertigo,
and it won advocates
among the celebrities of the day.
Charles Darwin was actually
rather a large fan
of Malvern's Victorian water cure.
So he came here and partook of it.
He was a rather sickly man, but he came
back slightly better off, I believe.
It probably gave him the idea of
the survival of the fittest after that.
Quite possibly.
The water cure might have proved
a short-fiver! fad,
but bottled mineral water
seems to be here to stay.
And the appeal of these magnificent
hills is undimmed since Bradshaw's day.
As new railways spread wealth and power
through Britain's fertile landscape,
you can understand why,
at the close of Victoria's reign,
Sir Edward Elgar,
a Worcestershire composer
much stimulated by natural beauty
would choose to extol
this land of hope and glory.
On the next part of my journey, I'll be
discovering Britain's hidden micro mines
in private hands since Bradshaw's day...
The harder we work,
the more coal we get,
the better off we are. So it's great.
Uncovering the railway engineering
behind an industrial icon...
So, we've got, effectively,
an enormous railway wagon,
spreads across these rails
on either side.
(man) That's exactly right, yes.
And seeing why the Victorians
fell for this romantic ruin.
Absolute perfection, isn't it?
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 a series of journeys across
the length and breadth of the country
to see what of Bradshaw's Britain
remains.
Continuing my journey,
my Bradshaw's is guiding me through
the beautiful county of Worcestershire.
From these lands, some harvested crops,
others divined water
and one in particular
drew divine inspiration.
On this stretch,
I'll be visiting the home of
Queen Victoria's favourite bishop...
She commented that Bishop Perowne
had the best legs in tights
of any man on the Episcopal bench.
Sniffing out the secrets of
a famous 19th-century condiment...
That's a glorious smell,
but very concentrated.
And following in the footsteps
of Victorian health fanatics.
There'd be wet towels Mapped around you
and water poured upon you
from a ghastly height.
- So, actually, pretty bracing stuff.
- Bracing, indeed.
I'm travelling from central England
to the west coast of Wales.
So far, We explored
the stunning Cotswolds,
and now I'm continuing west,
through Worcestershire.
Then I'll cross the border to hunt out
South Wales's industrial legacy,
finishing up at Milford Haven.
This leg covers 25 miles.
From Hartlebury via Worcester,
and on to the beautiful Malvern Hills.
My Bradshaw's is leading me
to Hartlebury Castle.
"For many centuries, the residence
of the bishops of Worcester."
"The library of Bishop Hurd,
together with some of Pope and
Warburton's books are at the castle."
Clearly, these bishops
were a force in the land.
The pages of my guidebook
are peppered with references
to the residences of Britain's elite.
Just as today's tourists
flock to Britain's stately homes,
Victorian railway travellers
could arrange a private tour
of an outstanding country pile
by writing to the housekeeper.
In the 19th century, bishops were
at the top of the social tree.
And their palaces could rival
the grandest ancestral seats.
The Bishop of Worcester's home
was no exception.
The first time I've ever seen
Hartlebury Castle.
Huge, magnificent, imposing.
But not particularly like a castle.
My tour will be led by Alison Brlmelow,
who chairs the Castle's
Preservation Trust.
- (Alison) Welcome to Hartlebury.
- (Michael) It's awe-inspiring.
I've been brought here by my Bradshaw's,
which says that it's the residence
of the bishops of Worcester.
- Does that remain the case?
- Unfortunately, no.
In 2007,
the bishop was moved to Worcester
because this is too big
and too expensive.
But it has been home to bishops
for more than a thousand years,
and the house tells their story.
The first building on this site
was a moated castle,
built as a fortress for the bishop
in the 13th century.
It was rebuilt in the 1700s
as this lavish private home.
And exploring it today,
I can see why readers of my guidebook
were interested in its rich history.
(Alison) This is the medieval
great hall of the castle,
amended in the light of
18th-century taste.
But very much the heart of the castle
from the Middle Ages onwards,
so the oldest part that you can see.
The portraits that line the great hall
testify to the might and celebrity
that the bishops once enjoyed.
What sort of temporal
or political power did bishops have?
It developed over the years.
In the Middle Ages,
and indeed pre-Middle Ages,
they were part of the political
power structure of the country.
They mattered to the King,
they mattered to the warlords.
They had money and access to people.
Close to what was then regarded
as frontier territory with Wales.
The Severn, and beyond that,
the risk of clashes with the Welsh.
So, this place really mattered
to political stability
in this pan of England.
By Victorian times,
the bishops no longer raised armies,
but still played a role in politics,
as is the case today.
Senior bishops satin
the House of Lords,
and many of them were
prominent public figures.
Do you have any eminent Victorians?
We have a number of eminent Victorians.
But my favourite is Bishop Perowne
because of what Queen Victoria
said about him.
He was bishop at the end
of the 19th century.
So Victoria was, already,
not a young woman.
And she commented that Bishop Perowne
had the best legs in tights
of any man on the Episcopal bench.
It's good to know that the royal eye
was still all-seeing.
Touring this palatial home,
I can see why my Victorian guidebook
thought it worthy of note.
One room given special mention
is the library.
So before I leave,
I would love to see it.
This is the library that
Bishop Hurd commissioned in 1781
when he came here as bishop.
He already had this wonderful
collection of books.
And when he got here, he found
there wasn't a library to put them in.
So he set about
rectifying that omission
and commissioned an architect
in Shifnal, up the road,
to build him a library
at the back of the house.
I just absolutely love it.
I think it's the most beautiful room
I've seen for a long time.
Oh, it's exquisite, isn't it?
Apparently, Queen Victories grandfather
enjoyed a meal in this very room.
Bishop Hurd was a great friend of King
George Ill and his wife Queen Charlotte.
And in 1788, he came to visit
Hurd here, visited the castle,
and had breakfast in this bay window.
(Michael)
So, George Ill breakfasted here?
(Alison) And his nephew has left us
a wonderful manuscript record
of what happened.
And if you look at this page here,
you can see what they had for breakfast.
Tea, coffee, chocolate, pretty ordinary.
Fruit, which is nice and healthy.
And jellies, which, to me,
is children's afternoon tea.
This castle stands as a reminder
of the bishops' historic power.
Even in the railway age,
they tried to assert their influence.
During the 19th century, one of the
bishops of Worcester, Bishop Philpott,
complained that the station had been
placed too far from Hartlebury castle
and that there was no conveyance to be
had anywhere nearer than Kidderminster.
He also moaned
that there was no waiting room,
which seems to be
the case today as well.
Luckily, in fine weather,
I don't miss it.
My journey continues south, towards
this county's superb cathedral city.
I'm headed for Worcester.
My Bradshaw's says that it's known
for china, and boots and shoes.
Well, I don't think of Worcester boots
and Worcester shoes any more,
but the city's name is still
inextricably linked
with a world-famous
Victorian concoction.
I'm getting off at Worcester's
Shrub Hill Station.
It opened in 1850,
and the current Georgian-style building
dates from 1865.
Soon after the railway arrived here,
it helped a small local company
to become one of Britain's
best-known brands.
We come to the Victorian factory
to meet manager Nigel Dickie.
I've entered a fragrant, pungent,
aromatic world here, haven't I?
It's wonderful, isn't it?
This factory was opened in 1897.
It was a purpose-built factory.
I noticed that
Shrub Hill Station is close by,
so the railways were important in the
history of Worcester sauce, were they'?
Absolutely critical. Mr Lea
and Mr Perrins needed bigger premises.
And the fact that this land
was purchased from the railways,
and then, using the Shrub Hill Station
and the goods yard there,
ingredients were being brought in,
product was being sent out
that would end up in
200 countries around the world.
Worcestershire sauce was born
in the age of Victorian imperialism.
As the empire expanded,
people developed more exotic tastes.
One such adventurous gourmet
is said to be behind the recipe
for this famous sauce.
The story goes that Lord Sandys,
a nobleman of this area,
who had reputedly held
a variety of offices,
including the Governor of Bengal,
came back from his travels
with this recipe
and he went to two Victorian chemists
in Broad Street in Worcester
and asked them to make up the recipe.
They did,
with these variety of
international ingredients.
But actually, when they tasted it,
it was quite horrible.
It was harsh, it was unpleasant.
And so they put it down
in the basement, in the cellar,
left it there for a year or so,
and when they were clearing out,
they came across it again,
tasted it,
and found that it had matured
into this wonderful, wonderful sauce.
Amazingly, this curious
blend of ingredients,
including anchovies,
garlic and tamarind,
took off with the British public.
Exports began in the 1840s,
and it was soon in international demand.
Why is it so popular?
It's something that makes a tomato juice
that little bit special.
Tomato juice, my foot.
It makes a Bloody Mary taste very good.
That's true, Michael.
The exact recipe is
a closely-guarded secret.
And the technique of maturing
the ingredients remains crucial.
(Nigel) This is where the process
all comes together.
Pungent smell in here. It's getting
right to the back of my throat.
That's the malt vinegar.
And that's what these ingredients have
been quietly and gently maturing in.
So, if we look here, Michael,
we've got red skin onions.
And... let's have a look here.
- (Nigel) Sea?
- (Michael laughs)
Ah, that does hit you.
A glorious smell,
but a very concentrated smell, isn't it?
(Nigel) Got the French garlic.
- It's huge, isn't it? That is huge.
- It's very, very good.
(Michael)
Let me have a go at the anchovies.
These will be the big daddy of smell,
I imagine.
Well, try that for size.
(Nigel) These anchovies
are soaked in salt.
Not too bad at all, actually.
No, they're an essential
part of the ingredients.
I mean, fishy, of course.
But no, not bad at all.
In Victorian times, the ingredients
were aged in wooden barrels.
Nowadays, they're plastic.
But in most other ways,
the process is unchanged.
Do not attempt this at home.
I never realised how much there was
to know about Worcestershire sauce.
But it's the genius of the
Victorian imperialists, isn't it?
You go to the empire, you get a recipe
and you make it fundamentally British.
Absolutely.
I'm leaving the factory
to explore the city centre.
Worcester got its railway late,
in the 1850s,
after a Kong campaign by residents.
The city had always thrived,
thanks to its strategic position
on the River Severn.
But the advent of the Industrial
Revolution saw nearby towns develop
while Worcester was left behind.
It was hoped that a rail link
would boost local industries,
including one that gets
a special mention in my guidebook.
Bradshaw's says of Worcester
that "one distinct branch
of manufacture is glove-making,
to the amount of half a million pairs
of leather and kid gloves annually,
employing between
one and two thousand persons."
And luckily for me,
the hotel where I'm staying tonight
is a convened glove factory.
Gloves had been made here
since the Middle Ages.
And in the 1700s, 30,000 people
were employed in the trade.
By the time the railway arrived,
the industry had
experienced a sharp decline
due to a flood of foreign imports.
But some firms survived by embracing
the latest manufacturing techniques.
We come to one of the factories
built in Victorian times
to meet historian Philippa Tinsley.
So, this was once the
Fownes glove factory?
(Philippa) Yes, absolutely.
So, we opened here in 1887.
And at one point, they had
1,000 people working in this building.
We've got some pictures here
of the seamstresses
working in the sewing rooms.
(Michael) They're absolutely packed in.
They're using sewing machines?
Yes. It became very mechanised in
the beginning of the 19th century.
And Fownes was one of
the great factories here
that really made a success of being
an industrial process of making gloves.
(Michael) Why did the Victorians
wear gloves so much more than we do?
I think a lot of it was to do
with that sense of hygiene.
There was an awful lot of more horrible
things around than we're used to now.
But it was an enormous
fashion thing as well.
I've got a pair here that you can see
that were made at about the same period
that Fownes was opened in the 1880s.
And you can see, just the
exquisite workmanship and lace
and the beautiful buttons
that have gone into creating these.
They loved beautiful things,
didn't they?
Such exquisite detail on that.
19th-century etiquette could require
ladies to be gloved at all times.
But by the late 20th century,
things had changed,
and Worcester's glove trade
came to an end.
This factory closed in 1974.
And now it's going to give me
my bed for the night.
It looks like a fine day.
And I'm in the mood for some music.
On this leg of my trip,
I'm continuing south-west
along a section of line built in 1859.
Of course, the railways
moved around goods and people.
But they also spread ideas and culture.
I'm on my way now to the Malvern Hills,
which were, for much of his life,
home to a composer
whose music I've known since childhood.
Sir Edward Elgar.
In the late 1800s,
the railways helped Elgar
to transform Victorian English music.
I'm alighting at Great Malvern's
stunning station to find out now.
Great Malvern Station
is absolutely magnificent.
I love these columns
decorated with foliage and palms.
And the buildings are exquisite.
The reason for this is that
a great landowner here was a Lady Foley.
And even though this is
a provincial place,
she insisted that it have
a station that is really grand.
The station opened in 1860,
when Elgar lived in hope,
but was yet to achieve glory.
I'm meeting historian Chris Bennett
to near the story.
- Morning.
- Morning.
It seems as though we meet,
really, in an Elgarian setting.
The most perfect railway station.
It's a beautiful Victorian
Great Malvern Station, yeah.
Beautifully preserved,
pretty much as Elgar himself
would have remembered it.
(Michael) Elgar was born
quite early in Victoria's reign.
How important did he become
in Britain's music scene?
He became very important really.
In Victorian times, mid-19th century,
England was really known as
the land without music.
We'd had all these great
German and Austrian composers.
But in England, there'd been
no one since Purcell in the 1700s
who could rank alongside
those great European composers.
And Elgar really did lift
British music back up
to compare with the great Europeans.
Elgar was born in Worcester
and lived most of his life
within sight of the Malvern Hills.
After a brief attempt at living
in London, he fled back in 1891.
But travelling by railway kept him
in touch with music in the capital.
He's the son of person who had to have
new musical experiences.
And whereas there's lots of music in
Worcester and Malvern and Hereford,
I would think it might have been
rather conservative programming.
Elgar was convinced that you had to go
to London to hear the best of new music,
which meant the Crystal Palace concerts,
and that meant a long journey
on the train. But it was possible.
He got up at 6:00 in the morning,
walked to the station,
train at 7:00,
got to London about 11:00,
then the Underground to Victoria,
on to the Crystal Palace.
If he was fortunate, he heard a bit
of the rehearsal in the afternoon,
then the concert at teatime.
Perhaps just over in time
to get the last train back
from Paddington to Worcester.
Home, perhaps, 11:00.
The railway revolution allowed Elgar
to have the best of both worlds,
experiencing avant-garde music
in London,
whilst living among the scenery
that inspired some of his greatest work.
(Michael) It's beautiful country.
What do we know about
how Elgar experienced it'?
We know that Elgar
loved the countryside.
He got so much of his
inspiration from it.
We know this from his diaries
and letters and notebooks.
He was one of these people who would
go on very lengthy walks, bike rides.
Always took his notebooks with him.
And as musical ideas came to him,
he would jot them down.
So, yes, this area, in and around the
Malvern Hills, meant so much to him.
(orchestra plays
“Land of Hope and Glory“)
Success came to Elgar late in life.
But in the 1890s,
his reputation was established.
In 1901,
the year of Queen Victoria's death,
he set words to his
“Pomp and Circumstance March“
for the coronation of Edward VIII.
It has since become
an unofficial English anthem.
In his music,
he certainly captured the countryside,
especially the beautiful
countryside around here,
where we are now in Malvern.
His ceremonial music
perfectly caught the atmosphere
of the great state occasions in London.
Why it is English, I don't know,
but English it certainly is.
And the English absolutely love it.
(song climaxes)
We nearly time for me
to catch my next train.
But first, I've heard there's a curious
sight in the sidings at Malvern Station.
(man) Hello.
Hello. I'm sorry to trouble you.
Good to see you.
Are you living in this thing?
Not at the moment, no.
I'm in the midst of its restoration.
I've spent a couple of years
restoring the outside,
and now I plan to restore the inside
in order to live in.
Subject to planning permission.
Did you find it here at Malvern Station?
No, no, no. I bought it from the
Gloucester Warwickshire Railway
at Winchcombe.
I restored the outside there,
and then brought it here
and put the rails down,
built the platform and put the fence up.
Why would you want to live
in a railway carriage?
- Why not?
- (Michael laughs)
- Would you mind if I come aboard?
- No, come and have a look.
It's beautifully nostalgic
of an old corridor train.
What are you going to do
with the carriage?
How are you going to plan it out?
I've got a plan here that shows
what I planned to do originally.
Being a first-class carriage,
it has seven compartments.
That one's the original compartment
at the end,
which will retain as it is
at the moment.
These two, then,
will be one bedroom/dressing room.
Knocked into one.
This one here is a study
with views towards the hills.
Yes, the view is fantastic.
And then the rest as an open-plan area
with living, dining
and kitchen all-in-one.
How long do you imagine
that's going to take you?
I thought this would take me six months
to a year and it's taken two years now.
It's very much, keep plodding along
with it. Eventually, it will be done.
I think it's fortunate
that you are so young.
Otherwise, you might never
see the fruits of this.
This is very true.
Living in a railway carriage
isn't everyone's idea of luxury.
But in Bradshaw's day, it would not
have been considered a suitable address.
Before I leave Great Malvern Station,
there's a tunnel I want to see,
known as The Worm,
which was originally established for the
convenience of first class passengers
and their luggage.
And such class divisions were
quite typical in Victorian times.
And then it curves round to the right,
and I think it now ends in a dead end.
This tunnel used to link directly
with the old Imperial Hotel,
a smart establishment that gets
a gushing review in my guidebook.
But now the hotel has been
converted into a school,
and first class passengers must
encounter the hoi polloi
as they exit the station.
My last stop for today is just
a hop and a skip up the line
on the outskirts of the town.
I'm on the trail of a natural resource
that help Malvern to thrive
in Victorian times.
Bradshaw's describes the Malvern Hills
as "a healthy, fashionable
and agreeable watering place".
"Limestone and sandstone
with syenite granite, etcetera,
are the chief ingredients in this range,
which is green to the summit."
I must say, I've always
associated the Malvern Hills
with the healthiest and purest water.
To see where this
famous water comes from,
I'm leaving the train at Colwall,
just outside Great Malvern.
Up the road is a public fountain
where, since Victorian times,
passing travellers have had the right
to stop and take refreshment.
I want to sustain that tradition.
Hello. Are you sampling the water?
Yes.
That's absolutely wonderful.
What could be better?
I agree with you.
This water is obviously famous to you?
You knew what to expect?
I did. I came to buy some.
But unfortunately,
they don't sell it here.
So I've got to go to
a local supermarket and buy it.
Or pop down the hill and come back
with a plastic bottle or two.
True, yes.
- Cheers.
- Cheers.
- Mmm.
- Even better than beer.
(both laugh)
These days, we're more likely
to swig our spring water from a bottle,
a trend that can be traced
back to Victorian times
when the railways helped to spread
the taste for Malvern water.
This public fountain is, in fact,
part of a Victorian bottling plant,
thought to be the oldest in the world.
We still operating today,
and is run by Rhys Humm.
Well, I get the impression here
of a highly automated process,
but rather small. I mean, this
looks like a very exclusive water.
It really is, indeed, yes.
We only do 1200 bottles a day,
which sounds a lot, but by
industry standards, it's minuscule.
When this factory opened in 1850,
it was said to have been
Britain's first mineral water business.
And it soon became famous
thanks to a brilliant marketing ploy.
In 1851, the water from this plant was
actually taken to the Great Exhibition
at Crystal Palace.
The Victorians decided
it would be a fabulous idea
to display it in a magnificent ten-tonne
fountain for all people to try.
And this is where Queen Victoria
first came across Malvern water.
The local industry got a further boost
after the railway reached Colwall
in 1861.
(Michael) Now, back in the 19th century,
would the water have been sent
around the country by train?
Indeed, yes.
One of the bottling plants in Malvern
was put near to the railway
station for exactly that reason,
so the water could be shipped out
across to London, in particular,
on the train links.
As the railways transported
water out of Malvern,
they also began to
bring in health tourists
to experience its healing powers.
The water cure was a craze
that swept Victorian society.
Well-to-do visitors flocked to
spa towns to down litres of water
and endure a regime
of cold baths and bracing walks.
Rhys has led me to the source
of one of Malvern's 70 springs.
This is the primary source
of the Holywell spring,
- high up in the Malvern Hills.
- Pouring out down here?
My Bradshaw's refers to the
St Anne's and Holywell springs.
- So this is Holywell.
- Indeed.
And he says, er,
"Water much resorted to and useful,
especially in glandular
and skin complaints."
And it says that pump rooms were built,
attached to each of the wells.
So, why is the water good for people?
We're stood upon thousands and thousands
of tons of Precambrian granite,
which is the oldest rock in the country,
the densest rock in the country.
It does not contribute
a mineral to the water,
as is the case with most mineral waters.
It cleanses and purifies the water.
As such, the water itself is famed
for containing nothing at all.
Thanks to this pure water,
Malvern was made for hydrotherapy,
which "Bradshaw's" says
"is carried out with much success
at the establishments
of Doctors Gully and Wilson“.
Bradshaw refers to two doctors
called Wilson and Gully,
who, apparently, were
involved in hydrotherapy.
Have you any idea what they were up to?
Indeed, yes.
Malvern's famous Victorian water cure.
That ran here for a good,
son of, 40-50 years.
Victorian gentry would come here
and partake of the water cure.
Drinking it or bathing in it, or what?
There would be a lot of drinking of it,
a lot of healthy walking on the hills,
a lot of bathing as well.
A sitz bath, for example,
was a very cold bath.
There would be wet towels
Mapped around you
and water poured upon you
from a ghastly height.
- So, actually pretty bracing stuff.
- Bracing, indeed.
The clinics set up
by the two doctors in Malvern
were among Britain's first
water cure centres.
It was claimed that the regime
could remedy everything
from sore throats to vertigo,
and it won advocates
among the celebrities of the day.
Charles Darwin was actually
rather a large fan
of Malvern's Victorian water cure.
So he came here and partook of it.
He was a rather sickly man, but he came
back slightly better off, I believe.
It probably gave him the idea of
the survival of the fittest after that.
Quite possibly.
The water cure might have proved
a short-fiver! fad,
but bottled mineral water
seems to be here to stay.
And the appeal of these magnificent
hills is undimmed since Bradshaw's day.
As new railways spread wealth and power
through Britain's fertile landscape,
you can understand why,
at the close of Victoria's reign,
Sir Edward Elgar,
a Worcestershire composer
much stimulated by natural beauty
would choose to extol
this land of hope and glory.
On the next part of my journey, I'll be
discovering Britain's hidden micro mines
in private hands since Bradshaw's day...
The harder we work,
the more coal we get,
the better off we are. So it's great.
Uncovering the railway engineering
behind an industrial icon...
So, we've got, effectively,
an enormous railway wagon,
spreads across these rails
on either side.
(man) That's exactly right, yes.
And seeing why the Victorians
fell for this romantic ruin.
Absolute perfection, isn't it?