Great British Railway Journeys (2010–…): Season 3, Episode 18 - Cockermouth to Eskdale - 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 SW
he told them where to travel,
what to see and where to stay.
Now, 170 years later,
Pm making a series of journeys across
the length and breadth of the country
to see what of Bradshaws Britain
remains.
I'm now coming to the end of a journey
inspired by my Bradshaw's Guide,
across the north of England,
from the North Sea to the Irish Sea.
The new network of railways
enabled Victorians to enjoy the beauty
and the history of their country,
and the most intrepid of them
even ventured overseas.
On my last leg of this rail adventure,
I'll be visiting an island
steeped in smuggling history. ..
He stepped onto his ship
and his trousers split,
discharging the tea
into the harbour water below him.
. . Discovering Britain's fear of
enemy spies in the Second World War...
The British Government
told the Manx Government
to tell all the boarding house keepers
and hoteliers to move out
at ten days' notice.
And scaling the heights
to view seven kingdoms.
We're in the Guinness Book of Records
for having
the oldest working tram in history.
I started this journey
on the English-Scottish border
and ifs taken me through the industrial
heartlands of the north of England
as well as mesmerising countryside.
Now I'm on the final leg,
across the Irish Sea,
to the enigmatic Isle of Man.
This last stretch begins at Heysham,
before crossing the sea to Douglas,
the Isle of Man's capital,
and ending atop
the island's only mountain.
I'm headed for the Isle of Man.
And my Bradshaw's makes it clear how
new technology had made it accessible.
"This island in the midst of
the Irish Sea may be easily reached
from the three kingdoms
by a few hours' steam
as it's only 70 miles from Liverpool."
The Victorians liked the isle of Man
because it was exotic,
it was kind of abroad,
although it was reassuringly British.
We taken the train west
from Lancaster to Heysham
at the southern end of Morecambe Bay,
so that I can catch a ferry
to the Isle of Man.
The ferry service has been running
since 1830 and I can still feel!
the excitement and anticipation
the Victorian travellers felt
as they ventured across these waters.
Steam power shortened distances,
and the Victorians relished
their new opportunities.
Trains and steamships brought
previously far off destinations
within comfortable reach.
Ships are no longer powered by steam,
but this is the oldest continually
operating ferry company in the world.
And George Bradshaw would be delighted
that its still called Steam Packet.
Although I might have to explain to him
the "dot com".
Packets were traditionally
scheduled cargo and passenger ships.
And because their original function
had been to carry mail,
the name “packet” stuck.
Before the advent of ferry services,
sail packet crossings to the Isle of Man
had been perilous.
Ships were often forced back to England
after days at sea.
And during the winter months, the island
could be cut off for weeks at a time.
Today, thankfully, in beautiful weather,
the crossing will seem, if anything,
too short.
Like a Victorian tourist
bound for the isle of Man,
I bid goodbye to the English coast.
But unlike a Victorian, I leave behind
Heysham Nuclear Power Station.
Nuclear power is just
one of the many changes
to both the physical
and cultural landscape
that would today
astonish Victorian tourists,
who in their day
visited the Isle of Man en masse.
Once upon a time, the island
had a roguish reputation.
Author Richard Platt
has come aboard to enlighten me.
- Michael. Hi.
- Very good to see you.
My Bradshaw's tells me that at one time
the chief prosperity of the Isle of Man
arose from smuggling. Can that be true?
The Isle of Man was more or less
independent of the English crown
for about three centuries
from the beginning of the 15th century.
And the taxes on the Isle of Man
were very, very low.
Enormous quantities of contraband
were smuggled
from the Isle of Man back to England.
And it wasn't just what
we normally associate with smuggling,
so although there was things like
brandy and tobacco,
there were all sons of commodities
like tea, which were highly taxed.
There was a huge expansion of
illegal imports into Britain
in the 18th and early 19th centuries.
During this time,
taxes rose dramatically
to pay for expensive European wars.
Farming was struggling
and poverty was rising.
Lawless or spirited citizens
fought back with smuggling.
And did this penetrate far
into Isle of Man society?
Absolutely, it went right from
the very, very top of society
to the lowest levels.
There's a story about a school teacher
called Myles Crowe,
who was smuggling contraband
in the early Victorian times.
And he was an incompetent smuggler.
It was very fashionable at that time
for men to wear baggy trousers
buckled below the knee.
And he was a slim, gaunt son of figure,
so what he did was
he bought a pair of these baggy trousers
and filled them up with tea.
And he was discovered when he stepped
onto his ship and his trousers split,
discharging the tea
into the harbour water below him.
Just add water, that's how you make tea.
That's how it's done
Exactly right,
that's just what happened.
Tobacco was a favourite luxury
targeted by smugglers,
many of whom were well-rode merchants
who could deprive the British Treasury
of hundreds of thousands of pounds
in lost revenue.
Contrary to the romantic image
of a striped-jersey-clad smuggler
rolling barrels up a moonlit beach,
most smuggling was well organised
and took place on pitch-black nights.
But with so much money to be made,
even by lone individuals,
smugglers like our intrepid
school teacher were undaunted.
When he tried to smuggle tobacco,
tobacco at that stage
was wound into ropes or ribbons,
and what he did was to undress
and wrap the tobacco around him.
This was quite a common technique,
but smugglers usually had the sense
to wrap it over their underwear
and Myles Crowe made the mistake of
stripping completely naked
and wrapping himself in tobacco.
And the result of this was that
when he got on the ship,
the nicotine from the tobacco
was permeating through his skin
and it sent him into
a complete narcotic fog.
He was having a nicotine high.
He was having a very big nicotine high
and a member of the crew
discovered the tobacco
and the captain was outraged
that he might be prosecuted
for this smuggling activity,
so he turned Myles Crowe over to
the customs authorities
and there's a description of him
being unwound like a top.
As they pulled the tobacco off him,
he spun on his heels.
In the Kate 18th century,
the British Government finally fired of
the huge tax losses
and secretly purchased the island
from the owner the Duke of Atholl.
That brought it
under the control of British customs,
making it much harder for the islanders
to maintain a base for smuggling.
Fortunately for them, in the 19th
century, a new source of income opened.
Mass tourism.
Douglas,
according to my Bradshaw's Guide,
"is a pleasant bathing and fishing port
in front of a fine bay".
And with these lovely white terraces
down at the seafront,
it has all the feel
of a Victorian resort.
The Victorians are credited with
inventing the seaside holiday.
As railways made access to the coast
fast and inexpensive,
seaside towns
shaped themselves into resorts.
In the Kate 19th century,
the working classes enjoyed
increased leisure time and wages
and imitated the welt-heeled
travellers by becoming tourists.
Such holidaymakers,
clutching their “Bradshaw's Guide“,
might have alighted from the ferry
to catch a horse-drawn tram,
precisely as I'm doing.
My driver, or “tram lad”,
is Peter Cannon.
- Do go to the Regency Hotel?
- We go right past the door.
- May I hop in?
- Jump on.
Peter, I never dreamed that I'd be
able to ride on a horse-drawn tram
in the 21st century.
When did all this begin?
(Peter) 1876 it started.
So what was the point of it?
Well, a gentlemen called Thomas
Lightfoot retired here from England,
saw the potential to make a few
shillings, I think, and set it up.
At the time the Isle of Man was
taking off a bit at a tourist resort.
Saw a gap in the market, I think.
(Michael) It's run continuously
ever since?
Apart from the Second World War,
we're in the 135th year now.
“Bradshaws” describes Douglas,
the island's capital,
as "the most lively place on the island,
and the horses trot briskly
the length of the Victorian promenade.“
With tourism at its height in the
Victorian and Edwardian eras,
amazingly, the horse trams conveyed
a million passengers each season.
We the worlds oldest surviving
horse-drawn tram service
and it runs on tracks,
making it, in my book anyway, a railway.
How long have you been with the tram?
Erm, some people might say too long.
1975 I started,
so I've been here for 35 years.
(Michael) And was it busier
in those days?
(Peter) Yes.
At the moment we run
a 20-minute service.
When I first started we'd probably run
a two-and-a-half minute service.
So, erm, that would be 16 trams.
Now it's only two.
And how many horses today?
Today we've got 20 working horses
and some younger ones who are just
going through the training process.
Easy, lad, easy, easy, easy.
(Michael) What son of horses
do you use?
Basically, they're Clydesdales.
Shires would be too heavy,
so Clydesdales are just about right
for this son of thing.
This is your stop, Michael.
- Thank you very much, Peter.
- You're welcome.
- Thank you then.
- Call again.
Thank you.
We descended from the charming tram
onto the grand Victorian seafront
in order to find my lodgings
for the night.
For once, George Bradshaw
is less than complimentary
about some of the island's
accommodation.
According to Bradshaw's,
in the Isle of Man,
"there are no roadside inns
worth the name,"
and "the ale is wretched stuff".
But then he says that
living is tolerably cheap here
and the lodgings moderate.
He says, "Excellent board and lodging
being had for £30 per annum."
Actually, I wasn't thinking of
staying that long.
After a fascinating day's travel,
/plan to get an early night
and rise with the lark, just as my
Victorian forebears might have done,
as I sense that there are many more
treats to come on this quirky island.
The Regency has served many visitors
over its 150 year career.
But I understand that the Second
World War brought long-term guests
who weren't visiting
of their own free will.
Intrigued,
I'm meeting local radio presenter
and voice of the Isle of Man
for 30 years, Terry Cringle.
Good morning, Terry.
Good morning, Michael, welcome to
the Isle of Man. (translates into Manx)
Very good to see you.
I believe you come from this very spot,
more or less?
Yes, this is my home territory.
Behind you,
you see that block of apartments.
Before that was built,
there was a block of boarding houses,
private hotels, if you wish.
My parents' one
was right in the middle of it.
That's where I was born.
The shore down there
was my adventure playground.
I loved it and I still do, actually.
- So, your parents had a boarding house?
- Yes.
- Made a good living?
- Oh, yes, they did.
I mean, talking about the '30s now,
that was when thousands of people
came to the Isle of Man on holiday,
not like today.
It was known as the playground
of Lancashire.
What's your most enduring memory
of childhood?
Obviously the war. I was
eight years old when it started, 1939.
And everything changed dramatically.
Especially when it came to 1940.
That was when the British government
told the Manx government
to tell all the boarding-house keepers
and hoteliers
to move out at ten days' notice.
Get out completely,
find somewhere else to live.
Find another way of making a living.
- And it was very drastic.
- Why was this?
This was because the plan was
to turn all these buildings
into internment camps for enemy aliens.
They were German, Austrian,
people who happened to be
living in Britain at the time and found
themselves on the wrong side of the war.
And they were swept up and
brought over here, thousands of them,
because they might have been
a potential threat to national security.
Worried by the possibility of spies
infiltrating the war effort,
the British government
sent 14,000 enemy aliens
to be interned on the isle of Man.
The hotel where I stayed last night
was one of the many
used as an internment camp.
One of the internees,
Italian Signor Giovannelli,
gives an impression of
a very self-sufficient community.
“In the basement was the barber shop,
the carpenter's shop
and the welfare office
and an Italian elementary school,
which I ran for the sailors
who couldn't read or write,
even in their own language. "
- What happened to your parents?
- They were fortunate.
Their boarding-house was handy
and that was not requisitioned,
they didn't have to get out.
But it was turned into billets
for the British army guards,
who guarded the prison camps.
But for me, the soldiers
in the house was tremendous.
Khaki uniforms and bayonets
and Short Lee-Enfield rifles.
That was great.
The Isle of Man ism pan of the United
Kingdom, but a Crown dependency
and its parliament at the Tynwald
has been in existence
for over a thousand years.
The islands known as a tax haven
because it's able to pass its own laws
and to levy taxes
at much lower rates than Britain's.
My Bradshaw's Guide tells me about
the history of smuggling on the island.
That was a time when people
didn't want to pay the British taxes.
Today it's a low tax regime.
Is there a kind of anti-establishment
feeling amongst Manx people,
that they don't want to pay too much
over to government?
That's true enough.
They believed, as far as
they were concerned,
this was their island, they wanted to
run it their way. That still applies.
I think, to this day,
because we still have a little trouble
over taxes with the UK.
I think down there in London
they still say,
"The Isle of Man is
a smuggling centre, you know."
I know it's 250 years ago,
but I think the spirit is still there.
The islanders'
fiercely independent character
has brought it to occasional
friction with the United Kingdom.
And I imagine that when the Victorians
were flocking to the island to holiday,
the encounter with a distinct
cultural identity was intriguing.
Its one of the things that even new
rewards the traveller.
In Bradshaws day,
the island wasn't wholly reliant
on tourism for its wealth.
Victorian engineering success
allowed the Isle of Man
to exploit its mines, too.
In the entry for Laxey,
my Bradshaw's says,
"Kirk Lonan is on a stream which
passes mines of lead, copper and slate."
So, it's time to put on the hard hat.
Laxey ls a small village,
just seven miles north of Douglas
on the east coast of the island,
where lead and zinc mining
began in the 18th century.
My guide in the tunnels
is local historian Andrew Scan'.
Bradshaw's Guide tells me they mined
copper and lead here. ls that right?
(Andrew) That's right, Michael, yes.
Lead was the main mineral.
It was a very valuable ore at the time.
Was this a fairly extensive mine?
It was indeed. The section we're in now
is only really
a very small portion of the mine.
Originally it went down
to about 2,000ft deep.
Once the railways arrived
from the 1830s onwards,
excellent building materials
could be carried around the country.
Whilst lead was popular
as a roofing material,
iron provided the superstructure
for monumental buildings,
such as the Kew Gardens greenhouses
and the spectacular spans
at railway stations,
such as Newcastle Central
and London St Pancras.
I see we're walking on tracks.
Was there a railway system in the mine?
There was.
There was a small steam railway
that ran in for about two miles
underground. As far as I'm aware,
it was the only mine in Britain
that had a railway
that went in such a manner underground
for such a length.
That was used to bring
the mine minerals out to the surface.
Originally, ponies hauled the wagons
full of ore,
but in 1877, two miniature
steam locomotives named Ant and Bee
replaced horse power.
The railway ran the full length
of the main level of the mine,
carrying ore out to
the washing floors above ground,
where it was prepared for shipping.
But the mine's ingenious steam railway
wasn't the only feat
of Victorian engineering brilliance
developed here on the Isle of Man.
We came in just now
from what appeared to be ground level
and yet this mine is sopping wet.
We've been dripped on
all the way through.
Water's obviously been a problem here.
It was a major problem
right through the history of the mine,
with the water seeping in,
flooding the lower workings.
(Michael) And so what did they do
about that?
There's no coal on the Isle of Man
to build a traditional
steam pumping engine,
so they actually used the water,
which was the problem,
to drive a water wheel.
And not just any water wheel.
Lady Isabella is the biggest
working water wheel in the world.
Way ahead of its time
as an ace-powered pump,
this dramatic example of
Victorian engineering, built in 1854,
pumped an astonishing
250 gallons of water per minute
from the mine 1500ft below.
It really is a fantastic
piece of machinery.
How big is it?
It's 72' 6" in diameter,
six feet wide and 227ft circumference.
It's the world's biggest
working water wheel.
Whilst the wheel operated night and day
to keep the water-logged tunnels
safe for the miners,
it also became
immensely attractive to tourists,
an astounding 13,000
visiting in 1877 alone.
Was this created by one of
the great Victorian engineers?
It was created by a chap called
Robert Casement,
who was born here in Laxey.
He was a self-taught engineer.
Because I would say this was one of
the great Victorian engineering wonders,
but it was created by a local man.
It was indeed, yes. Self-taught man,
engineer and millwright.
This was a very famous opening
in its day.
I've got here an Isle of Man £20 note.
And this shows the opening ceremony.
A wonderful illustration of
all these Victorians gathered around.
Yeah, September 1854 and there was
about 3,000 people who came out to Laxey
to witness the official opening
ceremony of the new water wheel.
Both the water whee! and the railway
have been restored to
their full Victorian glory.
The locomotives ply again
along the route
where the metal ores once travelled,
a quarter of a mile up the valley
to the mine entrance.
- You all look splendid.
- Yes, thank you.
(Michael) Very smart.
Never designed for passengers,
it's perfectly formed but small.
It's quite low, isn't it'? Well, in I go.
(whistle toots)
The Isle of Man
seems to be laced with railway lines.
It's a kind of train spotters' paradise.
And unfortunately during my brief stay
on the island,
I've only had the chance to visit one,
two, three of the many that there are.
Pm coming to the end of
both my "Bradshaw's" journey
and my visit to the Isle of Man.
But I don't intend to leave before
using the third railway on my wish-list,
which promises to be
the most spectacular.
I'm about to go up
the mountain of Snaefell,
and according to my Bradshaw's,
"the view from the summit embraces the
island and the sea in which it is set".
"As far as the shores of England,
Wales, Scotland and Ireland,
if the air is sufficiently clear."
According to locals,
if the air isn't sufficiently clear,
like on a wet day like today,
you can't see your hand in front of you.
By the middle of the 19th century,
the Victorians had overcome their fears
of the revolutionary railway technology
that they?! once thought
might suffocate or boil its passengers.
In fact, the majority of the populace
had fallen in love with rail travel,
so the thriving tourist industry
on the Isle of Man
encouraged the development of
70 miles of steam and electric railways
to satisfy this thirst for
adventure and exploration.
One example is about to take me to the
peak of the only mountain on the island.
Hello.
I've chosen to travel
on the Snaefell Mountain Railway,
which ascends five miles from Laxey
to the summit of Snaefell,
2,000ft above sea level.
Railway worker Richard Little
is my fellow passenger.
- Richard.
- Hi, Michael.
This is an electric railway,
a fairly early electric railway.
I was intrigued when I was up there
that there's a raised third rail
in the middle. What's that?
(Richard) A fell rail.
That's necessary
for the tram to clasp it
to protect it
from the winds and turbulence,
which, as you can see,
are quite strong on this mountain.
- Stop us blowing off the top?
- Yes.
Snaefell Electric Railway
was built in 1895 in just seven months,
five miles straight up the mountain.
It's the only electric mountain railway
in the British isles,
and it relies solely on rail adhesion
to overcome the steep gradients.
And riding on it
more than a century tater,
ifs a joy to experience
a Victorian design
so little changed since its inception.
You've got a very picturesque
fleet of cars.
Are they reproductions?
No, no, all our rolling stock
is all the originals.
So, we're talking about
1890s rolling stock?
Yes, yes. In fact, we're in
the Guinness Book of Records
for Manx Electric Railway
for having the oldest working tram
in history, so... doing well.
You can just imagine then
that in these very cars,
Victorian tourists would have taken
this trip up to the top of Snaefell.
Yes. In the tourism peak,
we had around 900 tourists
travelling up and down in one day,
which is a very impressive amount,
still achievable today
during special events,
and of course good weather helps.
(Michael) Now, I suppose on a clear day,
we'd be having a fabulous view
from here?
(Richard) Yes. At the summit, on a clear
day, you'll see the seven kingdoms,
which is England, Ireland, Scotland,
Wales, the Isle of Man,
Kingdom of Heaven
and the Kingdom of the Sea.
Today, however, you're lucky enough to
see a fine example of Manannan's cloak,
which is pan of Manx folklore.
Manannan, being the God of the island,
uses his cloak to hide the island
from Viking invaders and attackers.
So, as you can see,
the island's getting shielded nicely.
It seems that, today, the God
Manannan fears invasion very much
because the top of Snaefell
is wrapped in a cloud
and deluged from the Kingdom of Heaven.
The Victorians flocked to the isle of
Man for the thrill of venturing abroad.
And indeed,
they do things differently here.
But those early tourists
also found railways
and examples of engineering excellence
that were reminiscent of home.
And they also encountered
an indomitable spirit,
which is characteristic of all of us
born in these islands.
On my next journey, my “Bradshaws”
is leading me across the Irish Sea.
Starting in the Republic of Ireland,
I'll travel on the island's
very first tracks,
then head up the east coast
and on to Northern Ireland.
Along the way, I'll be meeting
some unusual train passengers
at Dublin Zoo...
If I were a ticket collector and
I came across a crocodile on the train,
I wouldn't seek to
extract the fare, either.
...putting myself
in a train driver's shoes...
(gasps)
Oh, dear. I think we're all dead.
And taking a white-knuckle tour
of the stunning north-east coast.
I read the Bradshaw's description
of this bridge,
but nothing prepared me
for what it's really like.
travel in Britain.
His name was George Bradshaw
and his railway guides inspired
the Victorians to take to the tracks.
Stop by SW
he told them where to travel,
what to see and where to stay.
Now, 170 years later,
Pm making a series of journeys across
the length and breadth of the country
to see what of Bradshaws Britain
remains.
I'm now coming to the end of a journey
inspired by my Bradshaw's Guide,
across the north of England,
from the North Sea to the Irish Sea.
The new network of railways
enabled Victorians to enjoy the beauty
and the history of their country,
and the most intrepid of them
even ventured overseas.
On my last leg of this rail adventure,
I'll be visiting an island
steeped in smuggling history. ..
He stepped onto his ship
and his trousers split,
discharging the tea
into the harbour water below him.
. . Discovering Britain's fear of
enemy spies in the Second World War...
The British Government
told the Manx Government
to tell all the boarding house keepers
and hoteliers to move out
at ten days' notice.
And scaling the heights
to view seven kingdoms.
We're in the Guinness Book of Records
for having
the oldest working tram in history.
I started this journey
on the English-Scottish border
and ifs taken me through the industrial
heartlands of the north of England
as well as mesmerising countryside.
Now I'm on the final leg,
across the Irish Sea,
to the enigmatic Isle of Man.
This last stretch begins at Heysham,
before crossing the sea to Douglas,
the Isle of Man's capital,
and ending atop
the island's only mountain.
I'm headed for the Isle of Man.
And my Bradshaw's makes it clear how
new technology had made it accessible.
"This island in the midst of
the Irish Sea may be easily reached
from the three kingdoms
by a few hours' steam
as it's only 70 miles from Liverpool."
The Victorians liked the isle of Man
because it was exotic,
it was kind of abroad,
although it was reassuringly British.
We taken the train west
from Lancaster to Heysham
at the southern end of Morecambe Bay,
so that I can catch a ferry
to the Isle of Man.
The ferry service has been running
since 1830 and I can still feel!
the excitement and anticipation
the Victorian travellers felt
as they ventured across these waters.
Steam power shortened distances,
and the Victorians relished
their new opportunities.
Trains and steamships brought
previously far off destinations
within comfortable reach.
Ships are no longer powered by steam,
but this is the oldest continually
operating ferry company in the world.
And George Bradshaw would be delighted
that its still called Steam Packet.
Although I might have to explain to him
the "dot com".
Packets were traditionally
scheduled cargo and passenger ships.
And because their original function
had been to carry mail,
the name “packet” stuck.
Before the advent of ferry services,
sail packet crossings to the Isle of Man
had been perilous.
Ships were often forced back to England
after days at sea.
And during the winter months, the island
could be cut off for weeks at a time.
Today, thankfully, in beautiful weather,
the crossing will seem, if anything,
too short.
Like a Victorian tourist
bound for the isle of Man,
I bid goodbye to the English coast.
But unlike a Victorian, I leave behind
Heysham Nuclear Power Station.
Nuclear power is just
one of the many changes
to both the physical
and cultural landscape
that would today
astonish Victorian tourists,
who in their day
visited the Isle of Man en masse.
Once upon a time, the island
had a roguish reputation.
Author Richard Platt
has come aboard to enlighten me.
- Michael. Hi.
- Very good to see you.
My Bradshaw's tells me that at one time
the chief prosperity of the Isle of Man
arose from smuggling. Can that be true?
The Isle of Man was more or less
independent of the English crown
for about three centuries
from the beginning of the 15th century.
And the taxes on the Isle of Man
were very, very low.
Enormous quantities of contraband
were smuggled
from the Isle of Man back to England.
And it wasn't just what
we normally associate with smuggling,
so although there was things like
brandy and tobacco,
there were all sons of commodities
like tea, which were highly taxed.
There was a huge expansion of
illegal imports into Britain
in the 18th and early 19th centuries.
During this time,
taxes rose dramatically
to pay for expensive European wars.
Farming was struggling
and poverty was rising.
Lawless or spirited citizens
fought back with smuggling.
And did this penetrate far
into Isle of Man society?
Absolutely, it went right from
the very, very top of society
to the lowest levels.
There's a story about a school teacher
called Myles Crowe,
who was smuggling contraband
in the early Victorian times.
And he was an incompetent smuggler.
It was very fashionable at that time
for men to wear baggy trousers
buckled below the knee.
And he was a slim, gaunt son of figure,
so what he did was
he bought a pair of these baggy trousers
and filled them up with tea.
And he was discovered when he stepped
onto his ship and his trousers split,
discharging the tea
into the harbour water below him.
Just add water, that's how you make tea.
That's how it's done
Exactly right,
that's just what happened.
Tobacco was a favourite luxury
targeted by smugglers,
many of whom were well-rode merchants
who could deprive the British Treasury
of hundreds of thousands of pounds
in lost revenue.
Contrary to the romantic image
of a striped-jersey-clad smuggler
rolling barrels up a moonlit beach,
most smuggling was well organised
and took place on pitch-black nights.
But with so much money to be made,
even by lone individuals,
smugglers like our intrepid
school teacher were undaunted.
When he tried to smuggle tobacco,
tobacco at that stage
was wound into ropes or ribbons,
and what he did was to undress
and wrap the tobacco around him.
This was quite a common technique,
but smugglers usually had the sense
to wrap it over their underwear
and Myles Crowe made the mistake of
stripping completely naked
and wrapping himself in tobacco.
And the result of this was that
when he got on the ship,
the nicotine from the tobacco
was permeating through his skin
and it sent him into
a complete narcotic fog.
He was having a nicotine high.
He was having a very big nicotine high
and a member of the crew
discovered the tobacco
and the captain was outraged
that he might be prosecuted
for this smuggling activity,
so he turned Myles Crowe over to
the customs authorities
and there's a description of him
being unwound like a top.
As they pulled the tobacco off him,
he spun on his heels.
In the Kate 18th century,
the British Government finally fired of
the huge tax losses
and secretly purchased the island
from the owner the Duke of Atholl.
That brought it
under the control of British customs,
making it much harder for the islanders
to maintain a base for smuggling.
Fortunately for them, in the 19th
century, a new source of income opened.
Mass tourism.
Douglas,
according to my Bradshaw's Guide,
"is a pleasant bathing and fishing port
in front of a fine bay".
And with these lovely white terraces
down at the seafront,
it has all the feel
of a Victorian resort.
The Victorians are credited with
inventing the seaside holiday.
As railways made access to the coast
fast and inexpensive,
seaside towns
shaped themselves into resorts.
In the Kate 19th century,
the working classes enjoyed
increased leisure time and wages
and imitated the welt-heeled
travellers by becoming tourists.
Such holidaymakers,
clutching their “Bradshaw's Guide“,
might have alighted from the ferry
to catch a horse-drawn tram,
precisely as I'm doing.
My driver, or “tram lad”,
is Peter Cannon.
- Do go to the Regency Hotel?
- We go right past the door.
- May I hop in?
- Jump on.
Peter, I never dreamed that I'd be
able to ride on a horse-drawn tram
in the 21st century.
When did all this begin?
(Peter) 1876 it started.
So what was the point of it?
Well, a gentlemen called Thomas
Lightfoot retired here from England,
saw the potential to make a few
shillings, I think, and set it up.
At the time the Isle of Man was
taking off a bit at a tourist resort.
Saw a gap in the market, I think.
(Michael) It's run continuously
ever since?
Apart from the Second World War,
we're in the 135th year now.
“Bradshaws” describes Douglas,
the island's capital,
as "the most lively place on the island,
and the horses trot briskly
the length of the Victorian promenade.“
With tourism at its height in the
Victorian and Edwardian eras,
amazingly, the horse trams conveyed
a million passengers each season.
We the worlds oldest surviving
horse-drawn tram service
and it runs on tracks,
making it, in my book anyway, a railway.
How long have you been with the tram?
Erm, some people might say too long.
1975 I started,
so I've been here for 35 years.
(Michael) And was it busier
in those days?
(Peter) Yes.
At the moment we run
a 20-minute service.
When I first started we'd probably run
a two-and-a-half minute service.
So, erm, that would be 16 trams.
Now it's only two.
And how many horses today?
Today we've got 20 working horses
and some younger ones who are just
going through the training process.
Easy, lad, easy, easy, easy.
(Michael) What son of horses
do you use?
Basically, they're Clydesdales.
Shires would be too heavy,
so Clydesdales are just about right
for this son of thing.
This is your stop, Michael.
- Thank you very much, Peter.
- You're welcome.
- Thank you then.
- Call again.
Thank you.
We descended from the charming tram
onto the grand Victorian seafront
in order to find my lodgings
for the night.
For once, George Bradshaw
is less than complimentary
about some of the island's
accommodation.
According to Bradshaw's,
in the Isle of Man,
"there are no roadside inns
worth the name,"
and "the ale is wretched stuff".
But then he says that
living is tolerably cheap here
and the lodgings moderate.
He says, "Excellent board and lodging
being had for £30 per annum."
Actually, I wasn't thinking of
staying that long.
After a fascinating day's travel,
/plan to get an early night
and rise with the lark, just as my
Victorian forebears might have done,
as I sense that there are many more
treats to come on this quirky island.
The Regency has served many visitors
over its 150 year career.
But I understand that the Second
World War brought long-term guests
who weren't visiting
of their own free will.
Intrigued,
I'm meeting local radio presenter
and voice of the Isle of Man
for 30 years, Terry Cringle.
Good morning, Terry.
Good morning, Michael, welcome to
the Isle of Man. (translates into Manx)
Very good to see you.
I believe you come from this very spot,
more or less?
Yes, this is my home territory.
Behind you,
you see that block of apartments.
Before that was built,
there was a block of boarding houses,
private hotels, if you wish.
My parents' one
was right in the middle of it.
That's where I was born.
The shore down there
was my adventure playground.
I loved it and I still do, actually.
- So, your parents had a boarding house?
- Yes.
- Made a good living?
- Oh, yes, they did.
I mean, talking about the '30s now,
that was when thousands of people
came to the Isle of Man on holiday,
not like today.
It was known as the playground
of Lancashire.
What's your most enduring memory
of childhood?
Obviously the war. I was
eight years old when it started, 1939.
And everything changed dramatically.
Especially when it came to 1940.
That was when the British government
told the Manx government
to tell all the boarding-house keepers
and hoteliers
to move out at ten days' notice.
Get out completely,
find somewhere else to live.
Find another way of making a living.
- And it was very drastic.
- Why was this?
This was because the plan was
to turn all these buildings
into internment camps for enemy aliens.
They were German, Austrian,
people who happened to be
living in Britain at the time and found
themselves on the wrong side of the war.
And they were swept up and
brought over here, thousands of them,
because they might have been
a potential threat to national security.
Worried by the possibility of spies
infiltrating the war effort,
the British government
sent 14,000 enemy aliens
to be interned on the isle of Man.
The hotel where I stayed last night
was one of the many
used as an internment camp.
One of the internees,
Italian Signor Giovannelli,
gives an impression of
a very self-sufficient community.
“In the basement was the barber shop,
the carpenter's shop
and the welfare office
and an Italian elementary school,
which I ran for the sailors
who couldn't read or write,
even in their own language. "
- What happened to your parents?
- They were fortunate.
Their boarding-house was handy
and that was not requisitioned,
they didn't have to get out.
But it was turned into billets
for the British army guards,
who guarded the prison camps.
But for me, the soldiers
in the house was tremendous.
Khaki uniforms and bayonets
and Short Lee-Enfield rifles.
That was great.
The Isle of Man ism pan of the United
Kingdom, but a Crown dependency
and its parliament at the Tynwald
has been in existence
for over a thousand years.
The islands known as a tax haven
because it's able to pass its own laws
and to levy taxes
at much lower rates than Britain's.
My Bradshaw's Guide tells me about
the history of smuggling on the island.
That was a time when people
didn't want to pay the British taxes.
Today it's a low tax regime.
Is there a kind of anti-establishment
feeling amongst Manx people,
that they don't want to pay too much
over to government?
That's true enough.
They believed, as far as
they were concerned,
this was their island, they wanted to
run it their way. That still applies.
I think, to this day,
because we still have a little trouble
over taxes with the UK.
I think down there in London
they still say,
"The Isle of Man is
a smuggling centre, you know."
I know it's 250 years ago,
but I think the spirit is still there.
The islanders'
fiercely independent character
has brought it to occasional
friction with the United Kingdom.
And I imagine that when the Victorians
were flocking to the island to holiday,
the encounter with a distinct
cultural identity was intriguing.
Its one of the things that even new
rewards the traveller.
In Bradshaws day,
the island wasn't wholly reliant
on tourism for its wealth.
Victorian engineering success
allowed the Isle of Man
to exploit its mines, too.
In the entry for Laxey,
my Bradshaw's says,
"Kirk Lonan is on a stream which
passes mines of lead, copper and slate."
So, it's time to put on the hard hat.
Laxey ls a small village,
just seven miles north of Douglas
on the east coast of the island,
where lead and zinc mining
began in the 18th century.
My guide in the tunnels
is local historian Andrew Scan'.
Bradshaw's Guide tells me they mined
copper and lead here. ls that right?
(Andrew) That's right, Michael, yes.
Lead was the main mineral.
It was a very valuable ore at the time.
Was this a fairly extensive mine?
It was indeed. The section we're in now
is only really
a very small portion of the mine.
Originally it went down
to about 2,000ft deep.
Once the railways arrived
from the 1830s onwards,
excellent building materials
could be carried around the country.
Whilst lead was popular
as a roofing material,
iron provided the superstructure
for monumental buildings,
such as the Kew Gardens greenhouses
and the spectacular spans
at railway stations,
such as Newcastle Central
and London St Pancras.
I see we're walking on tracks.
Was there a railway system in the mine?
There was.
There was a small steam railway
that ran in for about two miles
underground. As far as I'm aware,
it was the only mine in Britain
that had a railway
that went in such a manner underground
for such a length.
That was used to bring
the mine minerals out to the surface.
Originally, ponies hauled the wagons
full of ore,
but in 1877, two miniature
steam locomotives named Ant and Bee
replaced horse power.
The railway ran the full length
of the main level of the mine,
carrying ore out to
the washing floors above ground,
where it was prepared for shipping.
But the mine's ingenious steam railway
wasn't the only feat
of Victorian engineering brilliance
developed here on the Isle of Man.
We came in just now
from what appeared to be ground level
and yet this mine is sopping wet.
We've been dripped on
all the way through.
Water's obviously been a problem here.
It was a major problem
right through the history of the mine,
with the water seeping in,
flooding the lower workings.
(Michael) And so what did they do
about that?
There's no coal on the Isle of Man
to build a traditional
steam pumping engine,
so they actually used the water,
which was the problem,
to drive a water wheel.
And not just any water wheel.
Lady Isabella is the biggest
working water wheel in the world.
Way ahead of its time
as an ace-powered pump,
this dramatic example of
Victorian engineering, built in 1854,
pumped an astonishing
250 gallons of water per minute
from the mine 1500ft below.
It really is a fantastic
piece of machinery.
How big is it?
It's 72' 6" in diameter,
six feet wide and 227ft circumference.
It's the world's biggest
working water wheel.
Whilst the wheel operated night and day
to keep the water-logged tunnels
safe for the miners,
it also became
immensely attractive to tourists,
an astounding 13,000
visiting in 1877 alone.
Was this created by one of
the great Victorian engineers?
It was created by a chap called
Robert Casement,
who was born here in Laxey.
He was a self-taught engineer.
Because I would say this was one of
the great Victorian engineering wonders,
but it was created by a local man.
It was indeed, yes. Self-taught man,
engineer and millwright.
This was a very famous opening
in its day.
I've got here an Isle of Man £20 note.
And this shows the opening ceremony.
A wonderful illustration of
all these Victorians gathered around.
Yeah, September 1854 and there was
about 3,000 people who came out to Laxey
to witness the official opening
ceremony of the new water wheel.
Both the water whee! and the railway
have been restored to
their full Victorian glory.
The locomotives ply again
along the route
where the metal ores once travelled,
a quarter of a mile up the valley
to the mine entrance.
- You all look splendid.
- Yes, thank you.
(Michael) Very smart.
Never designed for passengers,
it's perfectly formed but small.
It's quite low, isn't it'? Well, in I go.
(whistle toots)
The Isle of Man
seems to be laced with railway lines.
It's a kind of train spotters' paradise.
And unfortunately during my brief stay
on the island,
I've only had the chance to visit one,
two, three of the many that there are.
Pm coming to the end of
both my "Bradshaw's" journey
and my visit to the Isle of Man.
But I don't intend to leave before
using the third railway on my wish-list,
which promises to be
the most spectacular.
I'm about to go up
the mountain of Snaefell,
and according to my Bradshaw's,
"the view from the summit embraces the
island and the sea in which it is set".
"As far as the shores of England,
Wales, Scotland and Ireland,
if the air is sufficiently clear."
According to locals,
if the air isn't sufficiently clear,
like on a wet day like today,
you can't see your hand in front of you.
By the middle of the 19th century,
the Victorians had overcome their fears
of the revolutionary railway technology
that they?! once thought
might suffocate or boil its passengers.
In fact, the majority of the populace
had fallen in love with rail travel,
so the thriving tourist industry
on the Isle of Man
encouraged the development of
70 miles of steam and electric railways
to satisfy this thirst for
adventure and exploration.
One example is about to take me to the
peak of the only mountain on the island.
Hello.
I've chosen to travel
on the Snaefell Mountain Railway,
which ascends five miles from Laxey
to the summit of Snaefell,
2,000ft above sea level.
Railway worker Richard Little
is my fellow passenger.
- Richard.
- Hi, Michael.
This is an electric railway,
a fairly early electric railway.
I was intrigued when I was up there
that there's a raised third rail
in the middle. What's that?
(Richard) A fell rail.
That's necessary
for the tram to clasp it
to protect it
from the winds and turbulence,
which, as you can see,
are quite strong on this mountain.
- Stop us blowing off the top?
- Yes.
Snaefell Electric Railway
was built in 1895 in just seven months,
five miles straight up the mountain.
It's the only electric mountain railway
in the British isles,
and it relies solely on rail adhesion
to overcome the steep gradients.
And riding on it
more than a century tater,
ifs a joy to experience
a Victorian design
so little changed since its inception.
You've got a very picturesque
fleet of cars.
Are they reproductions?
No, no, all our rolling stock
is all the originals.
So, we're talking about
1890s rolling stock?
Yes, yes. In fact, we're in
the Guinness Book of Records
for Manx Electric Railway
for having the oldest working tram
in history, so... doing well.
You can just imagine then
that in these very cars,
Victorian tourists would have taken
this trip up to the top of Snaefell.
Yes. In the tourism peak,
we had around 900 tourists
travelling up and down in one day,
which is a very impressive amount,
still achievable today
during special events,
and of course good weather helps.
(Michael) Now, I suppose on a clear day,
we'd be having a fabulous view
from here?
(Richard) Yes. At the summit, on a clear
day, you'll see the seven kingdoms,
which is England, Ireland, Scotland,
Wales, the Isle of Man,
Kingdom of Heaven
and the Kingdom of the Sea.
Today, however, you're lucky enough to
see a fine example of Manannan's cloak,
which is pan of Manx folklore.
Manannan, being the God of the island,
uses his cloak to hide the island
from Viking invaders and attackers.
So, as you can see,
the island's getting shielded nicely.
It seems that, today, the God
Manannan fears invasion very much
because the top of Snaefell
is wrapped in a cloud
and deluged from the Kingdom of Heaven.
The Victorians flocked to the isle of
Man for the thrill of venturing abroad.
And indeed,
they do things differently here.
But those early tourists
also found railways
and examples of engineering excellence
that were reminiscent of home.
And they also encountered
an indomitable spirit,
which is characteristic of all of us
born in these islands.
On my next journey, my “Bradshaws”
is leading me across the Irish Sea.
Starting in the Republic of Ireland,
I'll travel on the island's
very first tracks,
then head up the east coast
and on to Northern Ireland.
Along the way, I'll be meeting
some unusual train passengers
at Dublin Zoo...
If I were a ticket collector and
I came across a crocodile on the train,
I wouldn't seek to
extract the fare, either.
...putting myself
in a train driver's shoes...
(gasps)
Oh, dear. I think we're all dead.
And taking a white-knuckle tour
of the stunning north-east coast.
I read the Bradshaw's description
of this bridge,
but nothing prepared me
for what it's really like.