Great British Railway Journeys (2010–…): Season 3, Episode 15 - Port Talbot to Milford Haven - 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.
Using my Bradshaw's Guide,
I'm now pressing further into Wales.
The fortunes of the communities of south
Wales have ridden the roller-coaster
of the Industrial Revolution
in the 19th century,
de-industrialisation in the 20th
and are now adjusting themselves
for life in the 21st.
My guidebook told Victorian tourists
where to find the best and the worst
of the industrialised valleys.
I want to see how much holds true today.
I'll be visiting Barry island,
a favourite holiday spot
of 19th-century miners...
(man) They came in huge numbers.
We've got about 100,000
in the very first summer
that this railway station opened.
Penetrating the political heart
of Wales's capital city...
it's a great privilege to be
allowed into the debating chamber.
It's as different from the House
of Commons as it could possibly be.
And seeing what's left
of this region's
extraordinary Victorian railway network.
That is amazing.
These are the valleys of south Wales.
Railway lines going up
every single one of them.
That is the most extraordinary picture,
isn't it?
I'm over halfway through a Kong journey
from Oxford
to the Welsh port of Mitford Haven.
The quintessentially English landscape
of the Cotswold and Malvern Hills
now lies far behind me
as I explore the valleys of south Wales,
transformed
by 19th-century industrialisation.
The capital, Cardiff,
is my starting-point on this stretch,
which takes in coastal Barry
before heading north
to the mining town of Merthyr Tydfil.
My journey starts
in the historic county of Glamorgan.
In Bradshaw's day, this region was vital
to the growing success
of Britain's industrial Revolution.
I'm getting off at Cardiff Centre!
To explore a city
born in the age of steam.
My Bradshaw's Guide refers to
"the profusion of coal, iron and
limestone which everywhere abounds".
"These mineral riches have raised
Glamorganshire to great importance
during the last half-century."
it says, "The inhabitants of Cardiff,"
where I am now,
"carry on a considerable trade
with Bristol
and export a great quantity of
wrought iron and coal to foreign parts."
I'm interested to know what part
the Victorians and the railways
played in the transformation
of south Wales.
These days,
Cardiff is the proud capital of Wales.
But as recently as 1801, this was a
modest port of fewer than 2,000 people.
That changed
as the demand for Welsh coal surged
during the Industrial Revolution.
By the early 20th century,
the population had grown a hundredfold
and the docks heaved with trains,
carrying this black gold
to ships for export.
To learn more about this transformation,
I'm meeting local museum curator
Victoria Rogers.
Victoria, hello.
- Pleased to meet you.
This is a great way
to look at Cardiff's railway heritage.
It's great on a day like this.
We 're taking a boat trip
along the River Taff,
which plays a surprising role in
the history of the railway in Cardiff.
My Bradshaw's talks of Cardiff
in the mid-19th century as a town.
It's just the capital of Glamorganshire.
That's right. Cardiff actually wasn't
a city until 1905.
It wasn't made capital city until 1955.
There were three things, really,
in the space of around about ten years
that enabled Cardiff to become
eventually both of those things.
So, you've got the docks opening.
You've got the Taft Vale Railway
bringing the coal down from the Valleys.
Then you've got the South Wales Railway.
The South Wales Railway connected
Cardiff with Swansea and the West
and all the way to London in the east.
Cardiff's new rail links
were built by the famous engineer
Isambard Kingdom Brunei,
but first he had to overcome
some thorny problems.
(Victoria) Unfortunately for him,
the Taff did a real big curve
right next to the area that he needed
to build a railway station.
So what he did was build a cut
and diverted the river
in a straighter line.
(Michael) So, the station is
built on reclaimed land?
(Victoria) Absolutely. The station,
what is now the bus station as well,
and the site of the Millennium Stadium,
is all built on that reclaimed land
from Brunel's diversion.
Aided by the network of tracks
that fed the docks,
by the Kate 19th century,
Cardiff was recognised to be
the greatest coal port in the world.
The town's newfound confidence was
displayed in grand new buildings,
like the Coal Exchange
which was opened in 1886.
While the wheeler-dealer coal traders
are long gone,
its fine facade still evokes
Cardiff's heyday.
What did it look like inside?
- (Victoria) It was fantastic.
I've read some great archival material
about a dense cloud of tobacco smoke.
There was a barber,
so you could have a haircut.
You could be measured for a suit here.
There was a wine merchant.
Very often, people would buy
bottles of champagne
to toast their newly-done deals.
And they'd all be here
in their top hats and tails.
(Victoria) Absolutely. It would
have been a great sight, I'm sure.
The Welsh mines were prolific.
The coal they produced
was among the most valuable
to Victorian industrialists.
It was perfect for producing steam
to power machines, ships
and, of course, railway locomotives.
South Wales steam coal was
seen as the best in the world.
And so the deciding of the price here
was basically deciding
the price of coal throughout the world.
Actually, this is said to be
the site of the first...
the world's first million-pound deal
in 1907.
It's an incredibly important building.
But Cardiff's coal prosperity
wasn't to last.
In the post-war period,
demand for coal nosedived.
The exchange finally closed in 1958.
In 1964, exports of coal ceased
and the huge dock complex
lost its reason for being.
We're down where the Cardiff docks
used to be.
I'm trying to imagine them in the 19th
century, a bustle of ships and trains.
I know. There's an amazing statistic
about just how much railway track
there was in the docks.
There was about 120 miles of railway
track in one square mile in the docks.
There was a huge amount of coal traffic
coming down from the Valleys
and being shipped out via the railway.
By the Kate 20th century,
the derelict areas of the docks had
made Cardiff Bay an unappealing spot.
But in the 1990s, that began to change.
A barrage was built, creating
a vast take and attractive waterfront,
which today is home
to striking modem buildings,
including the Wales Millennium Centre
and the Senedd,
home to the Welsh Assembly.
Hello.
- Hello.
You're enjoying your coffees.
- (women laugh)
Are you from Cardiff?
Do you remember the old Cardiff?
- Yes.
Describe that to me.
Well, you'd catch a boat down here
to go to Weston.
And my father was from the docks,
wasn't he? Yes.
What were the docks like?
Oh, it was different.
- It was a different community.
It was a community of its own.
Dark, dingy. But character.
What about these modern buildings now?
What about the Welsh Assembly?
The building itself, to look at,
I think it's good.
It was supposed to be very green.
I hope that's still the case.
I've interrupted you enough.
You enjoy the coffee in the sun.
Approval from some of the locals.
I must judge
Cardiff's famous Senedd for myself.
It prides itself on openness, inviting
anyone to explore its public areas.
The lobby of the Welsh Assembly
has a wonderful roof.
It reminds me of waves, or boats.
Cardiff's maritime history.
The architect has created glass walls,
I suppose to give
the idea of transparency.
Transparency?
Linked to politics?
The idea will never catch on.
At the head of the Senedd
is the Siambr, or chamber,
where full sessions
of the Assembly are held.
It's a great privilege to be allowed
into the debating chamber.
Somewhere I've never been before.
It's very striking.
This beautiful domed ceiling
and the wood all around...
It's about as different from
the House of Commons as it could be.
That's a 19th-century building
with green benches
and you have to fight for a seat.
Here, everybody has
their allocated position.
It just makes you think.
Bradshaw's refers to Cardiff as a town.
It had a population of only 2,000
at the beginning of the 19th century.
Now, it's grown to a city.
A capital city.
One that has its own parliament.
How did it make that journey?
You guessed it.
It's all down to the railways.
Al! through this part of Waies,
the Victorian forces of change
left their mark.
My next stop is
eight mites down the coast.
I'm now headed for Barry Island,
a puzzling name,
since from the map, it's clear
that it's not surrounded by water.
I think there must be
a historical explanation.
I'm betting that it's
something to do with railways.
In fact, Barry's not mentioned
in my "Bradshaw's Guide".
That's because in the 1860s,
there was no town worth visiting.
But in the 1880s, a railway
and vast docks were built here.
A new community sprang up
almost overnight.
I'm taking a trip
on the Barry Tourist Railway
with historian Andy Croll
to hear the story.
Hello, Andy.
- Hello, Michael.
What a wonderful vintage diesel this is!
Isn't it smashing?
And this is going to help me to discover
the mystery of Barry island, I hope?
Indeed it is.
- Let's set off, then.
Barry Island is not an island.
What's the explanation?
Well, Barry Island was, back in...
up until about the 1890s, in fact.
It's when these great docks are made.
That's when the land is filled in.
And with this great rail link,
that's when the island gets
linked to the actual mainland.
These massive dock and railway projects
were the brainchild
of a powerful mine owner
who'd become increasingly frustrated
by Cardiffs monopoly
of the coal export trade.
David Davies is the man
that is the son of power force
which drives
these great docks being built.
He hated paying for his coal to go
out of someone else's port.
Cardiff was actually getting
all that money.
David Davies wanted to build his own.
Work started in 1884.
It opens in 1889.
David Davies dies in 1890, but he just
manages to see his great docks open.
Barry was the ideal spot
for Davies to realise his dream.
Thanks to its position,
ships could come in whatever the tide,
a real advantage
over neighbouring Cardiff.
The docks gave rise
to a phenomenal population explosion.
(Andy) In 1881, we've got
about 85 souls living here.
By the time we get to 1891,
we're up to 700.
Most of those are here building
the great docks which we can see.
By the time we get to 1901,
we're up to 27,000 people.
All of that is due to coal.
All of it is due to the great rail links
which allow these docks to be built.
The new railway was constructed
by the same company as the docks,
providing a direct link
to the coalfields.
Brunel's Taff Vale Railway
had competition.
Out of this intense rivalry between
Cardiff and Barry, is there a winner?
There certainly is. Barry.
By the time we get to about 1913,
this is the peak year for the whole
of the south Wales coal industry.
Barry is the greatest
coal exporting port in south Wales.
But also, in the whole world.
And in those years of massive
coal production and export,
the coal would have travelled by train
on the very tracks that we're using now.
Absolutely right.
We are travelling on the very rails
that that coal travelled on.
Although it was built for freight,
the railway line soon gained
a surprising new use.
As Victorian Britain was transformed
by rapid industrialisation,
even the working class began
to have leisure time.
Barry's beaches became
thronged with day trippers.
Here's another puzzle
about Barry Island.
You've been telling me
about coal and docks.
It turns out it's a seaside resort.
- Absolutely right, Michael.
This beach was formed
in the wake of the last Ice Age.
The truth of the matter is,
hardly anyone ever came here
for all of those thousands of years.
What makes the difference is this great
rail link opening in the mid-1890s.
Who is it who comes?
Working-class miners.
They came right from the start,
as soon as this railway link was opened.
They came in huge numbers.
We've got about 100,000
in the first summer
this railway station is opened.
1896.
They keep on coming.
On one day in 1950,
we have 120,000 of them packed
onto this little strip of sand.
Bit of a difference between a coal mine
and this beach.
It absolutely is.
There's some very moving evidence,
especially from the late 1890s,
of working-class miners being seen
just to stand at the water's edge,
quietly gazing out
over this great seascape.
They wouldn't have seen
anything like this in their lives.
Dark, cramped, underground.
So, yeah. One can only guess
what they were thinking.
These days,
it's not particularly miners,
but families from all over Britain
who come to enjoy this beautiful beach.
We a lovely spot
for me to break my journey.
At the end of a day of travel,
it's nice to relax on the shore
and to think about those hard-working
south Welsh miners,
who, at the end of weeks of toil,
would save a few pennies
to travel by train
and dip their toes in the sun'
at Barry Island.
Ifs a new day on my journey
and I'm travelling north
along the banks of the River Taff
on the Taff Vale Railway,
one of the oldest in Wales.
I'm now venturing to Merthyr Tydfil,
which my Bradshaw's calls
"a great mining town".
"Blast furnaces, forges and iron mills
are scattered on all sides."
"Visitors should see the furnaces
at night,
when the red glare of the flames
produces an uncommonly striking effect."
The railways brought
to the Welsh valleys
the Industrial Revolution
at its most rough and raw.
But when the mines closed
in the late 20th century,
that brought unhappiness
and unemployment.
Merthyr Tydfil's industrial history
began with iron.
Foundries were established
to exploit the local ore
at the start
of the Industrial Revolution.
As the railway network grew, miles of
new tracks were made from Merthyr iron.
Coal was also mined,
first to power the ironworks,
and later for export by rail
around the world.
I'm looking for what's left
of that legacy
in a place that once felt the full force
of Victorian-style industrialisation.
Bradshaw's paints a pretty depressing
picture of Merthyr in the 1860s.
"The town is best seen at night,
for by day it will be found dirty,
without order, management,
decent roads or footpaths,
no supply of water
and no public building
of the least note."
"We do hope
that proper measures will be taken
to improve the condition of the people."
Well, Merthyr acquired a fine town hall
at the end of the 19th century.
That's now boarded up.
Even here, there's clearly
a prospect of regeneration.
Today, Merthyr's streets bear no trace
of the dirt and smoke
of the 19th century.
But the town ls
still a place of strong emotions.
Since the mid-20th century,
local people have endured
high levels of unemployment.
So, what do they think
of their town today?
Good morning.
- How are you?
Nice to see you.
- You look very smart.
Are you from Merthyr?
- Yes. I'm a Merthyr lady. Yes.
Do you remember the old Merthyr?
The Merthyr of coal mines
and iron foundries?
That would be my grandfather's days.
My great-grandfather's days. Or my dad.
I got memories of it.
I love living in Merthyr.
It's a wonderful town.
It's had a lot of slagging off lately.
But it's getting there now.
There's a lot of regeneration. It's fab.
There's a lot of history.
People come here
from all over the world.
I know people from Canada
have come here.
I go up to Pontstic a lot.
We've got beautiful reservoirs.
We've got the Brecon Beacons.
I cycle. I cycle up there.
It is wonderful.
I wouldn't live anywhere else.
I love going abroad, but I love home.
You've got one other thing.
You've got a railway.
Yeah. (laughs)
How are you both?
Do you remember Merthyr in the old days?
Loads of factories in Merthyr.
You could go from one job
to another job.
Now you can't get anything.
- (man) Nothing about.
(Michael) You haven't mentioned
steel or coal mining.
I wasn't a miner myself,
but my father was.
It used to be quite busy
in those days, like.
(woman) We don't remember the steel.
(laughs)
We're not that ancient.
Although the iron industry here
is long dead,
the coal trade has seen a revival.
But it's not been welcomed by everyone.
Have you heard
about the new opencast mine?
(man) We've heard about it.
We've had enough of coal mines in this
valley. We don't want another coal mine.
Think of the din and the muck.
We've had enough muck and din.
We've had it all.
Let them go to London.
Even though it brings jobs?
- No. It only brings jobs to a few.
Because you've got all the...
They're industrialised.
They've got... They'll be digging
it out. They don't need miners.
A typical Victorian collie/y
could employ thousands of men,
working Kong hours underground.
But the industry's 21st-century face
is very different.
This vast crater is Merthyr's
controversial new opencast mine.
It employs only 200 people,
because most of the work is done
by highly productive diggers.
Ground was broken in 2007.
While some oppose the scheme,
the operators claim it will leave the
area safer and cleaner for local people.
I'm taking a tour with Environmental
Liaison Officer Kylie Jones.
That is an epic sight, isn't it?
That is a momentous hole.
That is a pit and a half.
My “Bradshaws Guide” tells me
that Merthyr coal is worked
"mostly in levels,
in beds two to three feet thick".
This is on a completely different scale.
How much coal will you be
removing from here?
About an estimated 11 million tonnes
of coal over the life of the project.
How does this relate to mining in the
days of the 19th century, for example?
All that you can see
in front of you today
has actually previously been mined
by deep mining methods.
You can see the past history
of all the mining that has gone on here
in terms of tunnels,
old culverts, old workings.
The mine's supporters claim
that those abandoned workings
made the area dangerous.
The company has pledged
to reclaim the land,
returning it to its pre-industrialised
state within 17 years.
But first, the coal will be extracted
and used to produce electricity
at nearby Aberthaw Power Station.
Now you've really brought me
to the coalface.
I have indeed. We're actually standing
on coal right now.
And that great scoop,
how much coal is that taking out?
It's about three-quarters of a tonne
per scoop.
Loading it into the lorries
and it's going to be taken up
to the disposal point.
I mean, to me it's just amazing,
the productivity of this.
You think how long a miner,
working in a narrow seam underground,
would have had to labour to take out
three-quarters of a tonne.
Here, it's going out every few seconds.
That's amazing, isn't it?
That's right.
We a far cry from the coal industry
of Bradshaw's day.
But one thing that hasn't changed is
how the finished product is transported.
A lot of your coal is
going out by train, is it?
Most definitely. All our coal today
has actually left the site via train.
(Michael) These are big trains.
Absolutely. We're carrying
about 1400 to 1500 tonnes of coal
on each train that leaves the site.
And how many are you shipping?
Roughly about 24
is the maximum in a week.
On a normal week,
about 14 or 15 trains leave the site.
An awful lot of coal.
I mean, it's always been that way.
I'm reading
my 19th-century guidebook here.
It says, "The coal and iron of
Merthyr Tydfil are the chief exports."
"The quantity almost doubles itself
every two or three years."
Then he says,
"But great as that supply may seem,
it's scarcely equal to the demand
created for it by the railways."
Railways have always been big here.
- Definitely.
These railway lines would have carried
coal and iron owe away historically.
We're still using them today.
Whatever your views on the project,
the sheer scale of this operation
is awe-inspiring.
To loosen the rocks so that the coal
can be dug, explosives are used.
Before /leave, I'm going to see
the mountain being blasted.
(man) Press it in.
Fire in ten seconds.
Wow.
There she blows!
My day in Merthyr ends
not with a whimper, but a bang.
I'm now swapping
this man-made industrial landscape
for the beauty
of the Brecon Beacons National Park,
home to the famous mountain range.
I'm picking up the train
just outside Merthyr Tydfil.
This is Pant Station.
My Bradshaw's says,
"This place is situated in the midst
of very beautiful mountain scenery."
"The opening of the Brecon and Merthyr
Railway in 1864
has brought the charming scenery
of the Upper Wye within easy reach."
Seeing these mountains today,
it's hard to believe
that they were once threaded
with hundreds of miles of railway.
To see just how extensive
this network once was,
I'm meeting railway owner Tony Hills.
Tony!
- Hello.
What a beautiful train.
What a lovely locomotive.
What's the locomotive?
Well, it's American.
It came from Philadelphia in the USA.
It spent all its working life
in South Africa hauling limestone.
I see you're clutching the Railways
of Great Britain Historical Atlas.
What's that about?
- Splendid book.
It shows the railways
all over the country,
going back many years.
There's a typical page there
showing the odd railway.
You turn over the page and behold.
(Michael) That is amazing.
These are the valleys of south Wales?
And a railway line running up
absolutely every single...
That is the most extraordinary picture,
isn't it?
(Tony) All coal and iron and so on.
A lot of this has closed.
It has, yes.
The main trunk routes are still open.
Brecon to Cardiff. Things like that.
But the Valley lines,
most of those are gone
with the demise
of the coal mining industry.
Well, there's one that's reopened,
by the look of it.
Can we take a ride?
- Of course we can.
Thank you.
- Pleasure.
In Bradshaw's day,
this stretch of the Brecon and
Merthyr Railway was a passenger service,
used by people
from the remote farms and villages.
Now ifs been resurrected
as the Brecon Mountain Railway.
This vintage steam engine is taking
me through some spectacular scenery.
Thanks to the efforts
of Tony and his colleagues,
ifs an experience enjoyed by tens
of thousands of tourists every year.
So, how was it
that this railway here was revived?
Well, we were looking for a place
to build a railway.
I have to stop you there.
Why did you want to build a railway?
Because we like steam engines.
And I'd been collecting locos
for a little while.
And rebuilt them.
The next logical step was
finding somewhere to run them.
There was five-and-a-half miles
of railway we could obtain.
It took seven years, I think it was,
to obtain the land.
It had been sold off
to 14 or 15 different landowners.
(Michael) Amazing.
The infrastructure had
all but disappeared.
Tony and his family set about
recreating a narrow-gauge railway
almost from scratch.
But this is a life's labour.
Well, we've been at it
for over 30 years, yeah.
You've been at it for over 30 years?
(Tony) It's not finished yet.
We've got more to do.
We've got to extend the railway further.
More locos we're building.
The carriages here are 30 years old.
They're starting to get
a little bit scruffy.
It goes on forever, you know
In summer, this service runs
up to five times a day,
helping to minimise car traffic
into the stunning National Park.
I firmly believe there's no better way
to enjoy this landscape.
You've had to rebuild
the whole railway line.
You had to do the bridges.
You had to do the stations,
the engines, the carriages.
The only thing you didn't do
was the view.
That's right.
We didn't need to do anything to that.
That was alright.
In many ways,
the rise and fall of industrial Merthyr
mirrors the story of the whole region.
But traveling on this Kine today
reminds me that despite the
industrialisation of the 19th century,
the Valleys still offer
dramatic natural beauty.
Iron ore is no longer mined
from these hills,
the deep coal pits are gone
and the railway network's been
pruned back sharply,
but not all trace of the past
has been laid to rest.
Vast reserves of coal are now being
recovered by open mining.
They're being shifted in modern
railway wagons down through Cardiff
on tracks first laid in Bradshaws day.
On the last leg of my journey,
I'll discover how the 19th-century steel
trade has been brought up to date...
I can feel
the heat of the blast furnace.
I can see a stream of molten iron.
I can see sparks flying.
I can see smoke.
Now, this fantastic train is emerging.
Going on a Victorian adventure
to see a marvel of the natural world...
it's wonderfully wet
and wonderfully thrilling, isn't it?
It's kind of very, very romantic.
And learning how industry gave birth
to beautiful musk: in Bradshaw's day.
So, how long have you been in the choir?
Only 53 years.
No!
- Yes.
(laughter)
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.
Using my Bradshaw's Guide,
I'm now pressing further into Wales.
The fortunes of the communities of south
Wales have ridden the roller-coaster
of the Industrial Revolution
in the 19th century,
de-industrialisation in the 20th
and are now adjusting themselves
for life in the 21st.
My guidebook told Victorian tourists
where to find the best and the worst
of the industrialised valleys.
I want to see how much holds true today.
I'll be visiting Barry island,
a favourite holiday spot
of 19th-century miners...
(man) They came in huge numbers.
We've got about 100,000
in the very first summer
that this railway station opened.
Penetrating the political heart
of Wales's capital city...
it's a great privilege to be
allowed into the debating chamber.
It's as different from the House
of Commons as it could possibly be.
And seeing what's left
of this region's
extraordinary Victorian railway network.
That is amazing.
These are the valleys of south Wales.
Railway lines going up
every single one of them.
That is the most extraordinary picture,
isn't it?
I'm over halfway through a Kong journey
from Oxford
to the Welsh port of Mitford Haven.
The quintessentially English landscape
of the Cotswold and Malvern Hills
now lies far behind me
as I explore the valleys of south Wales,
transformed
by 19th-century industrialisation.
The capital, Cardiff,
is my starting-point on this stretch,
which takes in coastal Barry
before heading north
to the mining town of Merthyr Tydfil.
My journey starts
in the historic county of Glamorgan.
In Bradshaw's day, this region was vital
to the growing success
of Britain's industrial Revolution.
I'm getting off at Cardiff Centre!
To explore a city
born in the age of steam.
My Bradshaw's Guide refers to
"the profusion of coal, iron and
limestone which everywhere abounds".
"These mineral riches have raised
Glamorganshire to great importance
during the last half-century."
it says, "The inhabitants of Cardiff,"
where I am now,
"carry on a considerable trade
with Bristol
and export a great quantity of
wrought iron and coal to foreign parts."
I'm interested to know what part
the Victorians and the railways
played in the transformation
of south Wales.
These days,
Cardiff is the proud capital of Wales.
But as recently as 1801, this was a
modest port of fewer than 2,000 people.
That changed
as the demand for Welsh coal surged
during the Industrial Revolution.
By the early 20th century,
the population had grown a hundredfold
and the docks heaved with trains,
carrying this black gold
to ships for export.
To learn more about this transformation,
I'm meeting local museum curator
Victoria Rogers.
Victoria, hello.
- Pleased to meet you.
This is a great way
to look at Cardiff's railway heritage.
It's great on a day like this.
We 're taking a boat trip
along the River Taff,
which plays a surprising role in
the history of the railway in Cardiff.
My Bradshaw's talks of Cardiff
in the mid-19th century as a town.
It's just the capital of Glamorganshire.
That's right. Cardiff actually wasn't
a city until 1905.
It wasn't made capital city until 1955.
There were three things, really,
in the space of around about ten years
that enabled Cardiff to become
eventually both of those things.
So, you've got the docks opening.
You've got the Taft Vale Railway
bringing the coal down from the Valleys.
Then you've got the South Wales Railway.
The South Wales Railway connected
Cardiff with Swansea and the West
and all the way to London in the east.
Cardiff's new rail links
were built by the famous engineer
Isambard Kingdom Brunei,
but first he had to overcome
some thorny problems.
(Victoria) Unfortunately for him,
the Taff did a real big curve
right next to the area that he needed
to build a railway station.
So what he did was build a cut
and diverted the river
in a straighter line.
(Michael) So, the station is
built on reclaimed land?
(Victoria) Absolutely. The station,
what is now the bus station as well,
and the site of the Millennium Stadium,
is all built on that reclaimed land
from Brunel's diversion.
Aided by the network of tracks
that fed the docks,
by the Kate 19th century,
Cardiff was recognised to be
the greatest coal port in the world.
The town's newfound confidence was
displayed in grand new buildings,
like the Coal Exchange
which was opened in 1886.
While the wheeler-dealer coal traders
are long gone,
its fine facade still evokes
Cardiff's heyday.
What did it look like inside?
- (Victoria) It was fantastic.
I've read some great archival material
about a dense cloud of tobacco smoke.
There was a barber,
so you could have a haircut.
You could be measured for a suit here.
There was a wine merchant.
Very often, people would buy
bottles of champagne
to toast their newly-done deals.
And they'd all be here
in their top hats and tails.
(Victoria) Absolutely. It would
have been a great sight, I'm sure.
The Welsh mines were prolific.
The coal they produced
was among the most valuable
to Victorian industrialists.
It was perfect for producing steam
to power machines, ships
and, of course, railway locomotives.
South Wales steam coal was
seen as the best in the world.
And so the deciding of the price here
was basically deciding
the price of coal throughout the world.
Actually, this is said to be
the site of the first...
the world's first million-pound deal
in 1907.
It's an incredibly important building.
But Cardiff's coal prosperity
wasn't to last.
In the post-war period,
demand for coal nosedived.
The exchange finally closed in 1958.
In 1964, exports of coal ceased
and the huge dock complex
lost its reason for being.
We're down where the Cardiff docks
used to be.
I'm trying to imagine them in the 19th
century, a bustle of ships and trains.
I know. There's an amazing statistic
about just how much railway track
there was in the docks.
There was about 120 miles of railway
track in one square mile in the docks.
There was a huge amount of coal traffic
coming down from the Valleys
and being shipped out via the railway.
By the Kate 20th century,
the derelict areas of the docks had
made Cardiff Bay an unappealing spot.
But in the 1990s, that began to change.
A barrage was built, creating
a vast take and attractive waterfront,
which today is home
to striking modem buildings,
including the Wales Millennium Centre
and the Senedd,
home to the Welsh Assembly.
Hello.
- Hello.
You're enjoying your coffees.
- (women laugh)
Are you from Cardiff?
Do you remember the old Cardiff?
- Yes.
Describe that to me.
Well, you'd catch a boat down here
to go to Weston.
And my father was from the docks,
wasn't he? Yes.
What were the docks like?
Oh, it was different.
- It was a different community.
It was a community of its own.
Dark, dingy. But character.
What about these modern buildings now?
What about the Welsh Assembly?
The building itself, to look at,
I think it's good.
It was supposed to be very green.
I hope that's still the case.
I've interrupted you enough.
You enjoy the coffee in the sun.
Approval from some of the locals.
I must judge
Cardiff's famous Senedd for myself.
It prides itself on openness, inviting
anyone to explore its public areas.
The lobby of the Welsh Assembly
has a wonderful roof.
It reminds me of waves, or boats.
Cardiff's maritime history.
The architect has created glass walls,
I suppose to give
the idea of transparency.
Transparency?
Linked to politics?
The idea will never catch on.
At the head of the Senedd
is the Siambr, or chamber,
where full sessions
of the Assembly are held.
It's a great privilege to be allowed
into the debating chamber.
Somewhere I've never been before.
It's very striking.
This beautiful domed ceiling
and the wood all around...
It's about as different from
the House of Commons as it could be.
That's a 19th-century building
with green benches
and you have to fight for a seat.
Here, everybody has
their allocated position.
It just makes you think.
Bradshaw's refers to Cardiff as a town.
It had a population of only 2,000
at the beginning of the 19th century.
Now, it's grown to a city.
A capital city.
One that has its own parliament.
How did it make that journey?
You guessed it.
It's all down to the railways.
Al! through this part of Waies,
the Victorian forces of change
left their mark.
My next stop is
eight mites down the coast.
I'm now headed for Barry Island,
a puzzling name,
since from the map, it's clear
that it's not surrounded by water.
I think there must be
a historical explanation.
I'm betting that it's
something to do with railways.
In fact, Barry's not mentioned
in my "Bradshaw's Guide".
That's because in the 1860s,
there was no town worth visiting.
But in the 1880s, a railway
and vast docks were built here.
A new community sprang up
almost overnight.
I'm taking a trip
on the Barry Tourist Railway
with historian Andy Croll
to hear the story.
Hello, Andy.
- Hello, Michael.
What a wonderful vintage diesel this is!
Isn't it smashing?
And this is going to help me to discover
the mystery of Barry island, I hope?
Indeed it is.
- Let's set off, then.
Barry Island is not an island.
What's the explanation?
Well, Barry Island was, back in...
up until about the 1890s, in fact.
It's when these great docks are made.
That's when the land is filled in.
And with this great rail link,
that's when the island gets
linked to the actual mainland.
These massive dock and railway projects
were the brainchild
of a powerful mine owner
who'd become increasingly frustrated
by Cardiffs monopoly
of the coal export trade.
David Davies is the man
that is the son of power force
which drives
these great docks being built.
He hated paying for his coal to go
out of someone else's port.
Cardiff was actually getting
all that money.
David Davies wanted to build his own.
Work started in 1884.
It opens in 1889.
David Davies dies in 1890, but he just
manages to see his great docks open.
Barry was the ideal spot
for Davies to realise his dream.
Thanks to its position,
ships could come in whatever the tide,
a real advantage
over neighbouring Cardiff.
The docks gave rise
to a phenomenal population explosion.
(Andy) In 1881, we've got
about 85 souls living here.
By the time we get to 1891,
we're up to 700.
Most of those are here building
the great docks which we can see.
By the time we get to 1901,
we're up to 27,000 people.
All of that is due to coal.
All of it is due to the great rail links
which allow these docks to be built.
The new railway was constructed
by the same company as the docks,
providing a direct link
to the coalfields.
Brunel's Taff Vale Railway
had competition.
Out of this intense rivalry between
Cardiff and Barry, is there a winner?
There certainly is. Barry.
By the time we get to about 1913,
this is the peak year for the whole
of the south Wales coal industry.
Barry is the greatest
coal exporting port in south Wales.
But also, in the whole world.
And in those years of massive
coal production and export,
the coal would have travelled by train
on the very tracks that we're using now.
Absolutely right.
We are travelling on the very rails
that that coal travelled on.
Although it was built for freight,
the railway line soon gained
a surprising new use.
As Victorian Britain was transformed
by rapid industrialisation,
even the working class began
to have leisure time.
Barry's beaches became
thronged with day trippers.
Here's another puzzle
about Barry Island.
You've been telling me
about coal and docks.
It turns out it's a seaside resort.
- Absolutely right, Michael.
This beach was formed
in the wake of the last Ice Age.
The truth of the matter is,
hardly anyone ever came here
for all of those thousands of years.
What makes the difference is this great
rail link opening in the mid-1890s.
Who is it who comes?
Working-class miners.
They came right from the start,
as soon as this railway link was opened.
They came in huge numbers.
We've got about 100,000
in the first summer
this railway station is opened.
1896.
They keep on coming.
On one day in 1950,
we have 120,000 of them packed
onto this little strip of sand.
Bit of a difference between a coal mine
and this beach.
It absolutely is.
There's some very moving evidence,
especially from the late 1890s,
of working-class miners being seen
just to stand at the water's edge,
quietly gazing out
over this great seascape.
They wouldn't have seen
anything like this in their lives.
Dark, cramped, underground.
So, yeah. One can only guess
what they were thinking.
These days,
it's not particularly miners,
but families from all over Britain
who come to enjoy this beautiful beach.
We a lovely spot
for me to break my journey.
At the end of a day of travel,
it's nice to relax on the shore
and to think about those hard-working
south Welsh miners,
who, at the end of weeks of toil,
would save a few pennies
to travel by train
and dip their toes in the sun'
at Barry Island.
Ifs a new day on my journey
and I'm travelling north
along the banks of the River Taff
on the Taff Vale Railway,
one of the oldest in Wales.
I'm now venturing to Merthyr Tydfil,
which my Bradshaw's calls
"a great mining town".
"Blast furnaces, forges and iron mills
are scattered on all sides."
"Visitors should see the furnaces
at night,
when the red glare of the flames
produces an uncommonly striking effect."
The railways brought
to the Welsh valleys
the Industrial Revolution
at its most rough and raw.
But when the mines closed
in the late 20th century,
that brought unhappiness
and unemployment.
Merthyr Tydfil's industrial history
began with iron.
Foundries were established
to exploit the local ore
at the start
of the Industrial Revolution.
As the railway network grew, miles of
new tracks were made from Merthyr iron.
Coal was also mined,
first to power the ironworks,
and later for export by rail
around the world.
I'm looking for what's left
of that legacy
in a place that once felt the full force
of Victorian-style industrialisation.
Bradshaw's paints a pretty depressing
picture of Merthyr in the 1860s.
"The town is best seen at night,
for by day it will be found dirty,
without order, management,
decent roads or footpaths,
no supply of water
and no public building
of the least note."
"We do hope
that proper measures will be taken
to improve the condition of the people."
Well, Merthyr acquired a fine town hall
at the end of the 19th century.
That's now boarded up.
Even here, there's clearly
a prospect of regeneration.
Today, Merthyr's streets bear no trace
of the dirt and smoke
of the 19th century.
But the town ls
still a place of strong emotions.
Since the mid-20th century,
local people have endured
high levels of unemployment.
So, what do they think
of their town today?
Good morning.
- How are you?
Nice to see you.
- You look very smart.
Are you from Merthyr?
- Yes. I'm a Merthyr lady. Yes.
Do you remember the old Merthyr?
The Merthyr of coal mines
and iron foundries?
That would be my grandfather's days.
My great-grandfather's days. Or my dad.
I got memories of it.
I love living in Merthyr.
It's a wonderful town.
It's had a lot of slagging off lately.
But it's getting there now.
There's a lot of regeneration. It's fab.
There's a lot of history.
People come here
from all over the world.
I know people from Canada
have come here.
I go up to Pontstic a lot.
We've got beautiful reservoirs.
We've got the Brecon Beacons.
I cycle. I cycle up there.
It is wonderful.
I wouldn't live anywhere else.
I love going abroad, but I love home.
You've got one other thing.
You've got a railway.
Yeah. (laughs)
How are you both?
Do you remember Merthyr in the old days?
Loads of factories in Merthyr.
You could go from one job
to another job.
Now you can't get anything.
- (man) Nothing about.
(Michael) You haven't mentioned
steel or coal mining.
I wasn't a miner myself,
but my father was.
It used to be quite busy
in those days, like.
(woman) We don't remember the steel.
(laughs)
We're not that ancient.
Although the iron industry here
is long dead,
the coal trade has seen a revival.
But it's not been welcomed by everyone.
Have you heard
about the new opencast mine?
(man) We've heard about it.
We've had enough of coal mines in this
valley. We don't want another coal mine.
Think of the din and the muck.
We've had enough muck and din.
We've had it all.
Let them go to London.
Even though it brings jobs?
- No. It only brings jobs to a few.
Because you've got all the...
They're industrialised.
They've got... They'll be digging
it out. They don't need miners.
A typical Victorian collie/y
could employ thousands of men,
working Kong hours underground.
But the industry's 21st-century face
is very different.
This vast crater is Merthyr's
controversial new opencast mine.
It employs only 200 people,
because most of the work is done
by highly productive diggers.
Ground was broken in 2007.
While some oppose the scheme,
the operators claim it will leave the
area safer and cleaner for local people.
I'm taking a tour with Environmental
Liaison Officer Kylie Jones.
That is an epic sight, isn't it?
That is a momentous hole.
That is a pit and a half.
My “Bradshaws Guide” tells me
that Merthyr coal is worked
"mostly in levels,
in beds two to three feet thick".
This is on a completely different scale.
How much coal will you be
removing from here?
About an estimated 11 million tonnes
of coal over the life of the project.
How does this relate to mining in the
days of the 19th century, for example?
All that you can see
in front of you today
has actually previously been mined
by deep mining methods.
You can see the past history
of all the mining that has gone on here
in terms of tunnels,
old culverts, old workings.
The mine's supporters claim
that those abandoned workings
made the area dangerous.
The company has pledged
to reclaim the land,
returning it to its pre-industrialised
state within 17 years.
But first, the coal will be extracted
and used to produce electricity
at nearby Aberthaw Power Station.
Now you've really brought me
to the coalface.
I have indeed. We're actually standing
on coal right now.
And that great scoop,
how much coal is that taking out?
It's about three-quarters of a tonne
per scoop.
Loading it into the lorries
and it's going to be taken up
to the disposal point.
I mean, to me it's just amazing,
the productivity of this.
You think how long a miner,
working in a narrow seam underground,
would have had to labour to take out
three-quarters of a tonne.
Here, it's going out every few seconds.
That's amazing, isn't it?
That's right.
We a far cry from the coal industry
of Bradshaw's day.
But one thing that hasn't changed is
how the finished product is transported.
A lot of your coal is
going out by train, is it?
Most definitely. All our coal today
has actually left the site via train.
(Michael) These are big trains.
Absolutely. We're carrying
about 1400 to 1500 tonnes of coal
on each train that leaves the site.
And how many are you shipping?
Roughly about 24
is the maximum in a week.
On a normal week,
about 14 or 15 trains leave the site.
An awful lot of coal.
I mean, it's always been that way.
I'm reading
my 19th-century guidebook here.
It says, "The coal and iron of
Merthyr Tydfil are the chief exports."
"The quantity almost doubles itself
every two or three years."
Then he says,
"But great as that supply may seem,
it's scarcely equal to the demand
created for it by the railways."
Railways have always been big here.
- Definitely.
These railway lines would have carried
coal and iron owe away historically.
We're still using them today.
Whatever your views on the project,
the sheer scale of this operation
is awe-inspiring.
To loosen the rocks so that the coal
can be dug, explosives are used.
Before /leave, I'm going to see
the mountain being blasted.
(man) Press it in.
Fire in ten seconds.
Wow.
There she blows!
My day in Merthyr ends
not with a whimper, but a bang.
I'm now swapping
this man-made industrial landscape
for the beauty
of the Brecon Beacons National Park,
home to the famous mountain range.
I'm picking up the train
just outside Merthyr Tydfil.
This is Pant Station.
My Bradshaw's says,
"This place is situated in the midst
of very beautiful mountain scenery."
"The opening of the Brecon and Merthyr
Railway in 1864
has brought the charming scenery
of the Upper Wye within easy reach."
Seeing these mountains today,
it's hard to believe
that they were once threaded
with hundreds of miles of railway.
To see just how extensive
this network once was,
I'm meeting railway owner Tony Hills.
Tony!
- Hello.
What a beautiful train.
What a lovely locomotive.
What's the locomotive?
Well, it's American.
It came from Philadelphia in the USA.
It spent all its working life
in South Africa hauling limestone.
I see you're clutching the Railways
of Great Britain Historical Atlas.
What's that about?
- Splendid book.
It shows the railways
all over the country,
going back many years.
There's a typical page there
showing the odd railway.
You turn over the page and behold.
(Michael) That is amazing.
These are the valleys of south Wales?
And a railway line running up
absolutely every single...
That is the most extraordinary picture,
isn't it?
(Tony) All coal and iron and so on.
A lot of this has closed.
It has, yes.
The main trunk routes are still open.
Brecon to Cardiff. Things like that.
But the Valley lines,
most of those are gone
with the demise
of the coal mining industry.
Well, there's one that's reopened,
by the look of it.
Can we take a ride?
- Of course we can.
Thank you.
- Pleasure.
In Bradshaw's day,
this stretch of the Brecon and
Merthyr Railway was a passenger service,
used by people
from the remote farms and villages.
Now ifs been resurrected
as the Brecon Mountain Railway.
This vintage steam engine is taking
me through some spectacular scenery.
Thanks to the efforts
of Tony and his colleagues,
ifs an experience enjoyed by tens
of thousands of tourists every year.
So, how was it
that this railway here was revived?
Well, we were looking for a place
to build a railway.
I have to stop you there.
Why did you want to build a railway?
Because we like steam engines.
And I'd been collecting locos
for a little while.
And rebuilt them.
The next logical step was
finding somewhere to run them.
There was five-and-a-half miles
of railway we could obtain.
It took seven years, I think it was,
to obtain the land.
It had been sold off
to 14 or 15 different landowners.
(Michael) Amazing.
The infrastructure had
all but disappeared.
Tony and his family set about
recreating a narrow-gauge railway
almost from scratch.
But this is a life's labour.
Well, we've been at it
for over 30 years, yeah.
You've been at it for over 30 years?
(Tony) It's not finished yet.
We've got more to do.
We've got to extend the railway further.
More locos we're building.
The carriages here are 30 years old.
They're starting to get
a little bit scruffy.
It goes on forever, you know
In summer, this service runs
up to five times a day,
helping to minimise car traffic
into the stunning National Park.
I firmly believe there's no better way
to enjoy this landscape.
You've had to rebuild
the whole railway line.
You had to do the bridges.
You had to do the stations,
the engines, the carriages.
The only thing you didn't do
was the view.
That's right.
We didn't need to do anything to that.
That was alright.
In many ways,
the rise and fall of industrial Merthyr
mirrors the story of the whole region.
But traveling on this Kine today
reminds me that despite the
industrialisation of the 19th century,
the Valleys still offer
dramatic natural beauty.
Iron ore is no longer mined
from these hills,
the deep coal pits are gone
and the railway network's been
pruned back sharply,
but not all trace of the past
has been laid to rest.
Vast reserves of coal are now being
recovered by open mining.
They're being shifted in modern
railway wagons down through Cardiff
on tracks first laid in Bradshaws day.
On the last leg of my journey,
I'll discover how the 19th-century steel
trade has been brought up to date...
I can feel
the heat of the blast furnace.
I can see a stream of molten iron.
I can see sparks flying.
I can see smoke.
Now, this fantastic train is emerging.
Going on a Victorian adventure
to see a marvel of the natural world...
it's wonderfully wet
and wonderfully thrilling, isn't it?
It's kind of very, very romantic.
And learning how industry gave birth
to beautiful musk: in Bradshaw's day.
So, how long have you been in the choir?
Only 53 years.
No!
- Yes.
(laughter)