Great British Railway Journeys (2010–…): Season 4, Episode 11 - Stirling to Invergowrie - full transcript
In 1840, one man transformed travel
in the British Isles.
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 these isles
to see what of Bradshaws Britain
remains.
I've embarked on a new railway journey
to rural and coastal Scotland.
At the beginning of the 19th century,
much of this country
was remote wilderness
which rarely attracted outside visitors
but in Queen Victoria's reign,
with the railways, the landscape
was opened up, linking communities,
developing industries and providing
secure and affordable routes
for travellers to reach even the most
northerly pans of her kingdom.
The first leg of this journey
meets a Scottish hero...
(man) There's a cult of Wallace
going around. He's an iconic figure.
He has been ever since his death
and martyrdom in 1305.
Continues with a bang...
and ends in tragedy.
The whole train
descended into the water.
The whole train descended.
Everybody was killed.
The photographs show that really large
bits of cast iron were bent and twisted.
The impact must have been ferocious.
Using my 1880s “Bradshaws”,
my journey starts in Stifling,
heads north to Perthshire,
on to the granite city of Aberdeen
and then west, through Inverness-shire
to the famous lochs of the Highlands
before reaching its end
at John o'Groats.
Today's leg begins in Stirling
at the heart Scottish history,
heads to the fair city of Perth,
then onto Dunkeld and Birnam,
ending at Invergowrie
on the banks of the River Tay.
For this Scottish journey, I'm using
an 1880s version of my Bradshaw's Guide,
I'm now heading across the Lowlands
of Scotland towards Stirling,
which my Bradshaw's tells me was
the ancient seat of the Scottish kings
and capital of Stirlingshire, situated
on a beautiful part of the Forth,
about halfway between
Edinburgh and Perth.
On a rock above the town
rises the Castle of Stirling,
so celebrated in Scottish history.
And I want to find out
why it played such a pivotal role.
In the 19th century,
trade, particularly in agriculture,
provided Stirling with
an injection of wealth.
An economic boom strengthened with
the arrival of the railways in 1848.
Although Stirling is
the smallest city in Scotland,
its castle has a big history.
From medieval times
until Bonnie Prince Charlie's
failed siege in the 18th century,
ifs been the focus of
military campaigns.
I'm hoping that castle steward,
Alan Clater, can tell me why.
- Alan, hello.
- Nice to meet you.
My Bradshaw's says that Stirling
is a key to the Highlands
and in an important position frequently
contested. Why was it so very, very key?
The town of Stirling is located
right in the heart of Scotland,
slap bang in the middle of the country.
It's because of its location
that they built a castle, a fortress,
high up here on this volcanic rock,
a strategic position second to none.
In Bradshaws day,
the romanticised version of history
in Sir Walter Scott's novels
was a very popular read
and the railways brought tourists
keen to visit where the action
in the books had occurred.
During the wars of independence,
the castle passed between English
and Scottish control many times,
and most of its conquerors
added to its fortifications,
from which you feel as though you are
looking out over Scottish history.
Six major battles
have been fought around these walls.
The Battle of Stirling Bridge,
the Battle of Bannockburn,
the Battle of Sauchieburn,
two battles at Falkirk
and the Battle of Sheriffmuir in 1715.
How many of those battles were between
the English and the Scottish?
Three of them
during the wars of independence,
the Battle of Stirling Bridge,
Bannockburn
and the first Battle of Falkirk.
Around the year 1500,
James IV of Scotland
built this impressive forework
around the castle entrance.
The palace sits 250ft above the plain,
giving panoramic views
of the surrounding terrain.
In the middle of the valley, there's
a very prominent tower. What is that?
That's the National Wallace Monument.
This was erected in 1869
to commemorate Wallace's great victory
over the English at Stirling Bridge.
I couldn't come to Stirling
without visiting that.
No, you must.
The strategic importance of Stirling
in medieval history
is reflected in the key battles that
were fought in and around the city.
Today, even from far off, the Wallace
Monument is an impressive tribute
to one of Scotland's favourite sons
and his victory
at the Battle of Stifling Bridge.
My Bradshaw's tells me about
one and a half miles up the river
is the site where Kildean Bridge stood,
a place where William Wallace
defeated the English in 1297.
The Wallace Memorial is a high tower
on Abbey Craig, a rock 560ft high
and it's Victorian, so it wasn't just
with Mel Gibson and the movie Braveheart
that William Wallace
was first commemorated.
There are 246 steps to the top,
which is a way of ensuring that
only hearts beating with Scottish pride
will make it.
Pride that I'm sure historian
Scott McMaster has in abundance.
- Scott.
It's worth the climb, isn't it'?
It certainly is for the view,
that's for sure.
Now, it intrigues me.
This is a Victorian monument.
Was the Victorian era an age of Scottish
nationalism, Scottish sentiment?
There was an element of that,
but what you have to remember
is there's a cult of Wallace
going around. He's an iconic figure.
He has been ever since
his death and martyrdom in 1305.
How was it
that it was built at Stirling?
The most important thing is
that this is the site
of the Battle of Stirling Bridge.
This is where Wallace's forces
came and camped here,
waiting on the English to cross
the Stirling Bridge
and this is where his victory was.
(Michael) How important was his victory
over King Edward I?
It was the first time
in the medieval period,
where a feudal host had been decimated
by basically a common army,
an inexperienced army.
Wallace then went on
to become Guardian of Scotland
and then he began to free Scotland
to a certain degree, until 1298,
when Edward decimated him
at the Battle of Falkirk.
He's caught just outside Glasgow, taken
down to London, put on a show trial
and basically executed
in the most horrific manner.
He's hung, drawn and quartered.
William Wallace has been celebrated
by Hollywood in the modern age
with the movie Braveheart
Of course, yeah. There's a lot of
artistic licence added to that,
but what the film did do,
in terms of this monument,
it's doubled visitor numbers
and it made the monument itself,
instead of being open in
a seasonal operation in the '90s,
it now opens almost 363 days a year.
How did the Victorians
get organised to build it?
It was done by public subscription.
Scots, patriots, ex-pats in Australia,
in America having
their Burns evenings and suppers
and raising money and sending it across.
It's reported that when
the foundation stone was laid in 1861,
local trains couldn't cope with the
throng of visitors from across Britain.
I wonder whether
Mel Gibson's “Braveheart” film
has encouraged tourists to visit
from further afield.
I assumed you were Scottish but
you don't sound it. Where are you from?
- We're from Germany.
- From Germany? Wearing Kilts?
Yes, we bought it in Germany
for the visit here in Scotland.
Is that because you have Scottish
backgrounds, Scottish family?
No, first we saw the film Braveheart
and we saw the Highlands
and we saw the monument.
So we come here to see it
with our own eyes.
And did you enjoy the monument?
- Yes.
- It's very beautiful.
Beautiful view of Stirling
and it's something proud.
Having enjoyed that lesson
in Scottish history,
I'm resuming my railway journey,
moving northeast
from the central battlefields.
This train will take me to Perth,
which my Bradshaw's tells me
is the capital of Perthshire,
a parliamentary borough,
an army brigade depot
and a port to which small craft
come up by the Firth of Tay.
It tells me that
there's salmon fishing in the river,
with a fish culture at Stormontfield.
In Scotland,
wherever there's moving water,
you can bet
that someone will be casting a fly.
As the first spot over which
the mighty Tay could be bridged,
Perth was founded by Scottish King David
in the early 12th century.
In the 19th century, the town was known
for two very Scottish products:
whisky and salmon.
And the coming of the railways
in 1848 saw them both flourish.
Urban Britain needed food on its plate
and when salmon could reach the slabs
of London's Billingsgate fish market
within hours of leaving Scottish waters,
Perth's fishing industry exploded.
Landlords cashed in by leasing
their stretch of the salmon-fitted Tay
to commercial fishermen who laid
vast nets to maximise their catch.
I'm visiting the oldest salmon fishery
on the planet, owned by David Clark.
- Hello, David.
- Hello.
Very good to see you. What a
fantastic day. What a beautiful place.
(David) It's grand.
(Michael) How long have they been
fishing salmon on the Tay?
In the 11th century, the first charters
were given to the monks along the river
and that continued right up to
the dissolution of the monasteries.
(Michael) Did the Victorians
take it another stage?
(David) Well, they overfished,
basically.
I think at one time
there was probably a net in the river
every quarter of a mile, so it was
almost impossible for fish to get by.
Far too many.
Nobody had any responsibility
for maintaining the stocks.
If you think about it, everyone was
in competition with everybody else.
And there was no reason
for them to preserve the stocks
so obviously fish stock
would have declined.
Foreseeing the problem of
dwindling salmon stocks,
in 1899 local naturalist and fisherman
PD Malloch persuaded the landed gentry
that it was foolish to overfish.
They gave him the financial backing
to buy up long leases
covering many miles of the Tay,
so that he could control fishing
and begin to tag Tay salmon
to keep track of their numbers
and to learn about their life cycle.
(David) Malloch tagged a thousand salmon
and was able to prove for the first time
that salmon did return
to their river of birth.
It had been conjecture before.
He actually proved it.
The river is no longer
industrially fished,
but the fly fishermen who pay
a pretty penny for the privilege
expect a sporting chance
of a decent catch
and salmon conservation
is as important as ever.
But even using nets to catch
and tag fish for scientific purposes
before returning them requires patience
bordering on stoicism.
So, no sign of anything yet?
No, but there's some
rippling ripples there.
They could be right on the beach before
you realise there's a fish in there.
Look at those swirls,
you'd think there was a fish there.
Hard luck, boys. Sorry.
(Michael) An empty net.
That's a sadness,
but you don't mind coming down
to the river even if the net is empty.
No, exactly. You're very welcome to
come back and try any time with us.
Thank you.
Pursuing my 19th-century-inspired
railway journeys,
just occasionally I witness a scene
that could be lifted directly
from Victorian times.
Today watching those men handling nets
with skills that are passed
through the generations
gave me a special insight and a moment
of tranquillity that I shall savour.
I've been studying my Bradshaw's Guide
for a hotel to spend the night,
while I'm here in Perth
and on a day when I've been thinking
about kings and queens,
this one has a suitably
monarchical name. The Royal George.
And I'm excited to be booked in,
because although it surprises me,
Queen Victoria herself once rested
her head here at The Royal George.
- Hello.
- Good evening, sir.
She would normally
have stayed in Scone Palace, probably,
with Lord Mansfield,
but he happened to be in London.
The housekeeper here
was given one hour's notice
that the Queen was going to stay.
Do you have any memento of that?
Yes, indeed we have the royal warrant
that she presented to the hotel.
It's hanging on the wall.
That I have to see.
Would you show me?
- Most certainly.
- Thank you.
Here we are then, one royal warrant.
Well, well! It's hardly pocket sized
is it? That's superb. What's it made of?
- (manager) Hand-carved solid oak.
- Really?
So, when I stay here tonight,
I shall think of myself as staying
in an unofficial palace.
Without a doubt, you're quite correct.
Porridge. I love it and nowadays,
it's not confined to Scotland.
I've had it Beijing and Texas.
The great thing is,
every time it's a surprise.
You can make it with water
or milk or cream,
it can be smooth or it can be gritty,
but because my mother's Scottish,
the great thing is how you flavour it.
Not for me, sugar. Salt.
Mm. That's the way.
In 1842, Queen Victoria made her first
visit north of the border and loved it,
so much so that she bought
what she called her dear paradise
in the Highlands, Balmoral.
Today I'm joining a gathering
that benefited greatly
from her newfound penchant
for all things Scottish.
My first destination of the day
is Dunkeld,
which my Bradshaw's tells me
is "most charmingly situated
on the margin of the River Tay
and forms part of the path
into the Highlands."
It's been aptly designated
the Eden of the North.
It was the abode of the Culdees in 570
and the capital of ancient Caledonia.
Nowadays, Dunkeld shares
its railway station with Birnam.
I'm alighting there for a competitive
event which is decidedly Caledonian
and which has been celebrated annually
since Victorian times.
Birnam and Dunkeld are set on
opposite sides of the River Tay.
Dunkeld held the first Highland Games
in the 1820s, but in 1864,
the event moved to Birnam,
where ifs been held ever since.
Highland dancing, piping,
cycling, track
and heavyweight prizes
are all up for grabs.
(bagpipe music)
(man) Present arms!
(laughs)
Now that we've had the pipes and the
drums and the firing of the cannon,
our senses have been titillated
and the games can begin.
The Highland Games, though centuries
old, suffered ah enforced hiatus.
Jane Anderson, an archivist at
nearby Blair Castle, knows more.
Jane, the Highland Games
are a wonderful afternoon's fun.
What was the origin of them?
They would have originally been
much more informal than this,
but showing the same types
of skills, strength, accuracy,
all the things
that would have been needed
to show what a good servant
you would be of a clansman.
And have those sons of games
continued ever since?
There would be quite a gap, due to
the risings of the people in Scotland
who supported King James and then
all Highland culture was stamped on
by the national government. They were
very worried about the risings,
they wanted to put an end to that,
so tartan was forbidden, weapons were
forbidden, bagpipes were forbidden.
So, a big gap.
And then they've kind of come back
to being greatly popular
in the middle 19th century,
is that right?
(Jane) Yes, around about the 1820s,
which was when the visit
of George IV was.
And Queen Victoria then visited Scotland
and things Highland became fashionable,
the thing to attend and come and see.
It's an extraordinary change that,
from being suppressed to being
fashionable, in a short period of time.
It was.
Well, I came here by train today. Did
the railways play a pan in the games?
(Jane) Yes, the railway arrived here
in 1856
and people came by train
from many miles away.
Extra trains came
and just like you today,
they could appreciate
these feats of strength and skill.
Excuse me interrupting.
- Hello, Michael. Welcome.
- Thank you so much.
I did not expect to see
an armed man here.
You've got a rifle, a bayonet.
Are you expecting trouble today?
No, I don't think so. we are
actually the Atholl Highlanders,
the Duke of Atholl's private army.
I didn't know there were private
armies in the UK today.
We are actually the last private army,
official private army, in Europe
and we're based up at Blair Castle,
20 miles north of here.
So, what's the history?
Well, Queen Victoria
visited this area in the 1840s
and the men of Atholl
provided a bodyguard for her.
Did you do a good job?
We must have done
because the following year,
she arranged for colours
to be presented to us
and that to this day gives us
a right to bear arms.
A pleasure to see you.
Like Queen Victoria,
I'm very impressed by this fine body
of men that I've seen here today.
Thank you very much. Bye.
- (man) Three, two, one.
- (gunshot)
This is unbelievable.
This is the haggis-eating competition.
They try to gobble down a haggis
as quickly as they possibly can,
then each contestant has to keep it down
for 40 seconds in order to win.
Haggis-eating may be an admirable skill,
but for me one event
evokes the Highland Games.
It utilises the trunk of a pine tree,
weighing up to 80 kilos
and nearly six metres long.
It's tossing the caber,
today judged by Alec Webster.
He's picking it up.
Which is a job in itself, isn't it?
Up it goes, he's got hold of it.
- Now if we run behind him...
- Right.
If we go behind him...
There it goes, it's gone over.
How are you going to judge that?
He's gone to this side.
That would be about five past 12.
So if he'd done it perfectly,
it would've landed 12 o'clock.
That would have been dead ahead of us.
That would be perfect?
That would be perfect.
The winner, then, is not the person
who's tossed the caber the furthest.
The winner is the person
who's done it the most perfectly.
Most perfectly, that's right.
Continuing my Scottish adventure,
I'm heading back to Perth Station
to push east.
I shall leave this train at Invergowrie,
from where on a clear day,
I will have a good view of
the Tay Rail Bridge.
My Bradshaw's writes about
the bridge's predecessor.
"This immense viaduct,
as constructed by Sir Thomas Bouch,
3,450 yards long on 85 spans,
was begun in 1870,
opened in 1877 and cost £300,000."
"On Sunday evening,
28th December, 1879, at about 7:15,
in a storm of wind, the middle spans,
where they were the widest
and at the greatest height above
the water, 130ft, were swept away,
with a train of carriages
just passing over
and of 70 to 80 persons, all perished."
The Tay Bridge disaster
is one of those epic catastrophes
that is remembered
from century to century.
Historian, Professor Charles McKean,
has studied the disaster.
Charles, hello. I suppose
this blustery weather is not bad
for considering the Tay Bridge disaster,
and it's a great view from here.
(Charles) it is tremendous.
But this is two miles wide.
We would be much better to get out there
by boat so we could see it close up.
Very good, let's do that.
The bridge was built by
the North British Railway Company,
which was in fierce competition
with the Caledonian Railway company
for rail traffic running between
London and Aberdeen.
Finished in 1877, the Tay crossing was
the longest railway bridge in the world.
However, the engineers had
failed to notice a damaged girder,
the result of corner cutting
during construction
and which had caused season
ticket holders to demand refunds
because their carriages were bouncing.
In 1879, disaster struck
one unlucky train.
Al! 75 passengers lost their lives.
What was it that happened on that night?
One of the carriages that was empty
jumped off the track. There was a gale,
not a very big gale, and it blew that
carriage against the side of the bridge.
The iron fractured and down it went.
Everybody was killed.
Photographs show that really large bits
of cast iron were bent and twisted.
The impact must have been ferocious.
Is it unique in being the only
railway disaster in Britain
in which everybody has perished?
I think so and it caused huge shock
at the time
because the Victorians believed
in technology, it was their bag.
In our time it would be comparable to
a jumbo jet coming out of the sky.
And who was it who got the blame?
I think the inquiry was fixed.
The chairman had been briefed
by the Board of Trade.
They wanted to get back
at the engineers.
He blamed the engineer,
Sir Thomas Bouch.
(Michael) They say he died
of a broken heart. Do you buy that?
Not in the slightest! He was convinced
it was nothing to do with him
and by the time he died,
all the evidence showed he was right.
In typical Victorian fashion, engineers
soon set about building a structure
that would restore confidence
in the railways
and in 1887, a new
double-track bridge was opened.
Construction involved
25,000 tons of iron,
70,000 tons of concrete,
ten million bricks
and three million rivets.
The Caledonian Railway,
whose trains from London to Aberdeen
ran up the west coast,
was now vulnerable
to its competitor, North British,
which rah its trains up the east coast.
It planned to scupper its rival.
So, once the North British
has got a bridge across the Tay,
it now has the advantage
over running trains up the main line.
It has the advantage,
but for the last 24 miles into Aberdeen,
they're on Caledonian rail
and there's a junction
and it's run by Caledonian signalmen,
so every time they see
a North British express,
the Caledonian signalmen put it to red
and effectively, it's dirty tricks.
And it's in response to that
the North British thinks they've got to
expose this to the public gaze,
and the best way to do this
is by a railway race.
And they run a train from King's Cross
to Aberdeen and it takes 13 hours.
That's down from 18 hours.
Really?
They get five hours off the total?
Five hours and the west coast line
realise they're losing the business,
that dirty tricks
isn't winning them any favours,
so they retaliate almost immediately
and during June, July and August,
1895, there's a son of railway Olympiad
and people get really burned up
about it, all the newspapers get going.
And it climaxes on the 23rd of August.
You have the west coast
leaving Euston at 8pm,
the North British, east coast,
leaving King's Cross at 8pm
and they're roaring up.
At this time there are people
in York Railway Station,
cheering them through at 3am,
and then they arrive at Montrose.
North Bridge is about
four minutes ahead
and, as usual, the Caledonian inspector
stops the North British
and allows the west coast line to win.
But the North British has filled
its train with newspaper men.
And that's what they wanted to do.
They saw this and worldwide,
throughout the empire,
the dirty tricks of the Caledonian
Railways is exposed to full gaze.
And ultimately, the west coast line
won the railway race,
but the North British
won the commercial war.
And indeed the propaganda battle,
which I know from my experience is
one of the most important to win.
Exactly they had it down to a tee.
The 19th-century railway boom
opened swathes of Scotland
to leisure travellers
for the first time.
And it spurred the development
of Scottish industries,
but the hell-for-leather competition
between different railway companies
was accompanied by catastrophe.
Sometimes even brilliant Victorian
engineers had to stop to think again.
On the next Keg of this journey,
I learn how Queen Victoria
used track-side trees
to screen her from her subjects.
They were planted
at Queen Victoria's request,
because when she was going to Balmoral,
the royal train
would stop here for her breakfast.
She didn't like the locals
seeing her eating.
I lend an ear
to the history of a textile mill.
Everybody in the factory
went deaf, eventually.
- Oh, yes.
- Awful.
And I'll go out with a bang
in Aberdeenshire.
Lord! Look at that!
It has changed the shape of the quarry.
in the British Isles.
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 these isles
to see what of Bradshaws Britain
remains.
I've embarked on a new railway journey
to rural and coastal Scotland.
At the beginning of the 19th century,
much of this country
was remote wilderness
which rarely attracted outside visitors
but in Queen Victoria's reign,
with the railways, the landscape
was opened up, linking communities,
developing industries and providing
secure and affordable routes
for travellers to reach even the most
northerly pans of her kingdom.
The first leg of this journey
meets a Scottish hero...
(man) There's a cult of Wallace
going around. He's an iconic figure.
He has been ever since his death
and martyrdom in 1305.
Continues with a bang...
and ends in tragedy.
The whole train
descended into the water.
The whole train descended.
Everybody was killed.
The photographs show that really large
bits of cast iron were bent and twisted.
The impact must have been ferocious.
Using my 1880s “Bradshaws”,
my journey starts in Stifling,
heads north to Perthshire,
on to the granite city of Aberdeen
and then west, through Inverness-shire
to the famous lochs of the Highlands
before reaching its end
at John o'Groats.
Today's leg begins in Stirling
at the heart Scottish history,
heads to the fair city of Perth,
then onto Dunkeld and Birnam,
ending at Invergowrie
on the banks of the River Tay.
For this Scottish journey, I'm using
an 1880s version of my Bradshaw's Guide,
I'm now heading across the Lowlands
of Scotland towards Stirling,
which my Bradshaw's tells me was
the ancient seat of the Scottish kings
and capital of Stirlingshire, situated
on a beautiful part of the Forth,
about halfway between
Edinburgh and Perth.
On a rock above the town
rises the Castle of Stirling,
so celebrated in Scottish history.
And I want to find out
why it played such a pivotal role.
In the 19th century,
trade, particularly in agriculture,
provided Stirling with
an injection of wealth.
An economic boom strengthened with
the arrival of the railways in 1848.
Although Stirling is
the smallest city in Scotland,
its castle has a big history.
From medieval times
until Bonnie Prince Charlie's
failed siege in the 18th century,
ifs been the focus of
military campaigns.
I'm hoping that castle steward,
Alan Clater, can tell me why.
- Alan, hello.
- Nice to meet you.
My Bradshaw's says that Stirling
is a key to the Highlands
and in an important position frequently
contested. Why was it so very, very key?
The town of Stirling is located
right in the heart of Scotland,
slap bang in the middle of the country.
It's because of its location
that they built a castle, a fortress,
high up here on this volcanic rock,
a strategic position second to none.
In Bradshaws day,
the romanticised version of history
in Sir Walter Scott's novels
was a very popular read
and the railways brought tourists
keen to visit where the action
in the books had occurred.
During the wars of independence,
the castle passed between English
and Scottish control many times,
and most of its conquerors
added to its fortifications,
from which you feel as though you are
looking out over Scottish history.
Six major battles
have been fought around these walls.
The Battle of Stirling Bridge,
the Battle of Bannockburn,
the Battle of Sauchieburn,
two battles at Falkirk
and the Battle of Sheriffmuir in 1715.
How many of those battles were between
the English and the Scottish?
Three of them
during the wars of independence,
the Battle of Stirling Bridge,
Bannockburn
and the first Battle of Falkirk.
Around the year 1500,
James IV of Scotland
built this impressive forework
around the castle entrance.
The palace sits 250ft above the plain,
giving panoramic views
of the surrounding terrain.
In the middle of the valley, there's
a very prominent tower. What is that?
That's the National Wallace Monument.
This was erected in 1869
to commemorate Wallace's great victory
over the English at Stirling Bridge.
I couldn't come to Stirling
without visiting that.
No, you must.
The strategic importance of Stirling
in medieval history
is reflected in the key battles that
were fought in and around the city.
Today, even from far off, the Wallace
Monument is an impressive tribute
to one of Scotland's favourite sons
and his victory
at the Battle of Stifling Bridge.
My Bradshaw's tells me about
one and a half miles up the river
is the site where Kildean Bridge stood,
a place where William Wallace
defeated the English in 1297.
The Wallace Memorial is a high tower
on Abbey Craig, a rock 560ft high
and it's Victorian, so it wasn't just
with Mel Gibson and the movie Braveheart
that William Wallace
was first commemorated.
There are 246 steps to the top,
which is a way of ensuring that
only hearts beating with Scottish pride
will make it.
Pride that I'm sure historian
Scott McMaster has in abundance.
- Scott.
It's worth the climb, isn't it'?
It certainly is for the view,
that's for sure.
Now, it intrigues me.
This is a Victorian monument.
Was the Victorian era an age of Scottish
nationalism, Scottish sentiment?
There was an element of that,
but what you have to remember
is there's a cult of Wallace
going around. He's an iconic figure.
He has been ever since
his death and martyrdom in 1305.
How was it
that it was built at Stirling?
The most important thing is
that this is the site
of the Battle of Stirling Bridge.
This is where Wallace's forces
came and camped here,
waiting on the English to cross
the Stirling Bridge
and this is where his victory was.
(Michael) How important was his victory
over King Edward I?
It was the first time
in the medieval period,
where a feudal host had been decimated
by basically a common army,
an inexperienced army.
Wallace then went on
to become Guardian of Scotland
and then he began to free Scotland
to a certain degree, until 1298,
when Edward decimated him
at the Battle of Falkirk.
He's caught just outside Glasgow, taken
down to London, put on a show trial
and basically executed
in the most horrific manner.
He's hung, drawn and quartered.
William Wallace has been celebrated
by Hollywood in the modern age
with the movie Braveheart
Of course, yeah. There's a lot of
artistic licence added to that,
but what the film did do,
in terms of this monument,
it's doubled visitor numbers
and it made the monument itself,
instead of being open in
a seasonal operation in the '90s,
it now opens almost 363 days a year.
How did the Victorians
get organised to build it?
It was done by public subscription.
Scots, patriots, ex-pats in Australia,
in America having
their Burns evenings and suppers
and raising money and sending it across.
It's reported that when
the foundation stone was laid in 1861,
local trains couldn't cope with the
throng of visitors from across Britain.
I wonder whether
Mel Gibson's “Braveheart” film
has encouraged tourists to visit
from further afield.
I assumed you were Scottish but
you don't sound it. Where are you from?
- We're from Germany.
- From Germany? Wearing Kilts?
Yes, we bought it in Germany
for the visit here in Scotland.
Is that because you have Scottish
backgrounds, Scottish family?
No, first we saw the film Braveheart
and we saw the Highlands
and we saw the monument.
So we come here to see it
with our own eyes.
And did you enjoy the monument?
- Yes.
- It's very beautiful.
Beautiful view of Stirling
and it's something proud.
Having enjoyed that lesson
in Scottish history,
I'm resuming my railway journey,
moving northeast
from the central battlefields.
This train will take me to Perth,
which my Bradshaw's tells me
is the capital of Perthshire,
a parliamentary borough,
an army brigade depot
and a port to which small craft
come up by the Firth of Tay.
It tells me that
there's salmon fishing in the river,
with a fish culture at Stormontfield.
In Scotland,
wherever there's moving water,
you can bet
that someone will be casting a fly.
As the first spot over which
the mighty Tay could be bridged,
Perth was founded by Scottish King David
in the early 12th century.
In the 19th century, the town was known
for two very Scottish products:
whisky and salmon.
And the coming of the railways
in 1848 saw them both flourish.
Urban Britain needed food on its plate
and when salmon could reach the slabs
of London's Billingsgate fish market
within hours of leaving Scottish waters,
Perth's fishing industry exploded.
Landlords cashed in by leasing
their stretch of the salmon-fitted Tay
to commercial fishermen who laid
vast nets to maximise their catch.
I'm visiting the oldest salmon fishery
on the planet, owned by David Clark.
- Hello, David.
- Hello.
Very good to see you. What a
fantastic day. What a beautiful place.
(David) It's grand.
(Michael) How long have they been
fishing salmon on the Tay?
In the 11th century, the first charters
were given to the monks along the river
and that continued right up to
the dissolution of the monasteries.
(Michael) Did the Victorians
take it another stage?
(David) Well, they overfished,
basically.
I think at one time
there was probably a net in the river
every quarter of a mile, so it was
almost impossible for fish to get by.
Far too many.
Nobody had any responsibility
for maintaining the stocks.
If you think about it, everyone was
in competition with everybody else.
And there was no reason
for them to preserve the stocks
so obviously fish stock
would have declined.
Foreseeing the problem of
dwindling salmon stocks,
in 1899 local naturalist and fisherman
PD Malloch persuaded the landed gentry
that it was foolish to overfish.
They gave him the financial backing
to buy up long leases
covering many miles of the Tay,
so that he could control fishing
and begin to tag Tay salmon
to keep track of their numbers
and to learn about their life cycle.
(David) Malloch tagged a thousand salmon
and was able to prove for the first time
that salmon did return
to their river of birth.
It had been conjecture before.
He actually proved it.
The river is no longer
industrially fished,
but the fly fishermen who pay
a pretty penny for the privilege
expect a sporting chance
of a decent catch
and salmon conservation
is as important as ever.
But even using nets to catch
and tag fish for scientific purposes
before returning them requires patience
bordering on stoicism.
So, no sign of anything yet?
No, but there's some
rippling ripples there.
They could be right on the beach before
you realise there's a fish in there.
Look at those swirls,
you'd think there was a fish there.
Hard luck, boys. Sorry.
(Michael) An empty net.
That's a sadness,
but you don't mind coming down
to the river even if the net is empty.
No, exactly. You're very welcome to
come back and try any time with us.
Thank you.
Pursuing my 19th-century-inspired
railway journeys,
just occasionally I witness a scene
that could be lifted directly
from Victorian times.
Today watching those men handling nets
with skills that are passed
through the generations
gave me a special insight and a moment
of tranquillity that I shall savour.
I've been studying my Bradshaw's Guide
for a hotel to spend the night,
while I'm here in Perth
and on a day when I've been thinking
about kings and queens,
this one has a suitably
monarchical name. The Royal George.
And I'm excited to be booked in,
because although it surprises me,
Queen Victoria herself once rested
her head here at The Royal George.
- Hello.
- Good evening, sir.
She would normally
have stayed in Scone Palace, probably,
with Lord Mansfield,
but he happened to be in London.
The housekeeper here
was given one hour's notice
that the Queen was going to stay.
Do you have any memento of that?
Yes, indeed we have the royal warrant
that she presented to the hotel.
It's hanging on the wall.
That I have to see.
Would you show me?
- Most certainly.
- Thank you.
Here we are then, one royal warrant.
Well, well! It's hardly pocket sized
is it? That's superb. What's it made of?
- (manager) Hand-carved solid oak.
- Really?
So, when I stay here tonight,
I shall think of myself as staying
in an unofficial palace.
Without a doubt, you're quite correct.
Porridge. I love it and nowadays,
it's not confined to Scotland.
I've had it Beijing and Texas.
The great thing is,
every time it's a surprise.
You can make it with water
or milk or cream,
it can be smooth or it can be gritty,
but because my mother's Scottish,
the great thing is how you flavour it.
Not for me, sugar. Salt.
Mm. That's the way.
In 1842, Queen Victoria made her first
visit north of the border and loved it,
so much so that she bought
what she called her dear paradise
in the Highlands, Balmoral.
Today I'm joining a gathering
that benefited greatly
from her newfound penchant
for all things Scottish.
My first destination of the day
is Dunkeld,
which my Bradshaw's tells me
is "most charmingly situated
on the margin of the River Tay
and forms part of the path
into the Highlands."
It's been aptly designated
the Eden of the North.
It was the abode of the Culdees in 570
and the capital of ancient Caledonia.
Nowadays, Dunkeld shares
its railway station with Birnam.
I'm alighting there for a competitive
event which is decidedly Caledonian
and which has been celebrated annually
since Victorian times.
Birnam and Dunkeld are set on
opposite sides of the River Tay.
Dunkeld held the first Highland Games
in the 1820s, but in 1864,
the event moved to Birnam,
where ifs been held ever since.
Highland dancing, piping,
cycling, track
and heavyweight prizes
are all up for grabs.
(bagpipe music)
(man) Present arms!
(laughs)
Now that we've had the pipes and the
drums and the firing of the cannon,
our senses have been titillated
and the games can begin.
The Highland Games, though centuries
old, suffered ah enforced hiatus.
Jane Anderson, an archivist at
nearby Blair Castle, knows more.
Jane, the Highland Games
are a wonderful afternoon's fun.
What was the origin of them?
They would have originally been
much more informal than this,
but showing the same types
of skills, strength, accuracy,
all the things
that would have been needed
to show what a good servant
you would be of a clansman.
And have those sons of games
continued ever since?
There would be quite a gap, due to
the risings of the people in Scotland
who supported King James and then
all Highland culture was stamped on
by the national government. They were
very worried about the risings,
they wanted to put an end to that,
so tartan was forbidden, weapons were
forbidden, bagpipes were forbidden.
So, a big gap.
And then they've kind of come back
to being greatly popular
in the middle 19th century,
is that right?
(Jane) Yes, around about the 1820s,
which was when the visit
of George IV was.
And Queen Victoria then visited Scotland
and things Highland became fashionable,
the thing to attend and come and see.
It's an extraordinary change that,
from being suppressed to being
fashionable, in a short period of time.
It was.
Well, I came here by train today. Did
the railways play a pan in the games?
(Jane) Yes, the railway arrived here
in 1856
and people came by train
from many miles away.
Extra trains came
and just like you today,
they could appreciate
these feats of strength and skill.
Excuse me interrupting.
- Hello, Michael. Welcome.
- Thank you so much.
I did not expect to see
an armed man here.
You've got a rifle, a bayonet.
Are you expecting trouble today?
No, I don't think so. we are
actually the Atholl Highlanders,
the Duke of Atholl's private army.
I didn't know there were private
armies in the UK today.
We are actually the last private army,
official private army, in Europe
and we're based up at Blair Castle,
20 miles north of here.
So, what's the history?
Well, Queen Victoria
visited this area in the 1840s
and the men of Atholl
provided a bodyguard for her.
Did you do a good job?
We must have done
because the following year,
she arranged for colours
to be presented to us
and that to this day gives us
a right to bear arms.
A pleasure to see you.
Like Queen Victoria,
I'm very impressed by this fine body
of men that I've seen here today.
Thank you very much. Bye.
- (man) Three, two, one.
- (gunshot)
This is unbelievable.
This is the haggis-eating competition.
They try to gobble down a haggis
as quickly as they possibly can,
then each contestant has to keep it down
for 40 seconds in order to win.
Haggis-eating may be an admirable skill,
but for me one event
evokes the Highland Games.
It utilises the trunk of a pine tree,
weighing up to 80 kilos
and nearly six metres long.
It's tossing the caber,
today judged by Alec Webster.
He's picking it up.
Which is a job in itself, isn't it?
Up it goes, he's got hold of it.
- Now if we run behind him...
- Right.
If we go behind him...
There it goes, it's gone over.
How are you going to judge that?
He's gone to this side.
That would be about five past 12.
So if he'd done it perfectly,
it would've landed 12 o'clock.
That would have been dead ahead of us.
That would be perfect?
That would be perfect.
The winner, then, is not the person
who's tossed the caber the furthest.
The winner is the person
who's done it the most perfectly.
Most perfectly, that's right.
Continuing my Scottish adventure,
I'm heading back to Perth Station
to push east.
I shall leave this train at Invergowrie,
from where on a clear day,
I will have a good view of
the Tay Rail Bridge.
My Bradshaw's writes about
the bridge's predecessor.
"This immense viaduct,
as constructed by Sir Thomas Bouch,
3,450 yards long on 85 spans,
was begun in 1870,
opened in 1877 and cost £300,000."
"On Sunday evening,
28th December, 1879, at about 7:15,
in a storm of wind, the middle spans,
where they were the widest
and at the greatest height above
the water, 130ft, were swept away,
with a train of carriages
just passing over
and of 70 to 80 persons, all perished."
The Tay Bridge disaster
is one of those epic catastrophes
that is remembered
from century to century.
Historian, Professor Charles McKean,
has studied the disaster.
Charles, hello. I suppose
this blustery weather is not bad
for considering the Tay Bridge disaster,
and it's a great view from here.
(Charles) it is tremendous.
But this is two miles wide.
We would be much better to get out there
by boat so we could see it close up.
Very good, let's do that.
The bridge was built by
the North British Railway Company,
which was in fierce competition
with the Caledonian Railway company
for rail traffic running between
London and Aberdeen.
Finished in 1877, the Tay crossing was
the longest railway bridge in the world.
However, the engineers had
failed to notice a damaged girder,
the result of corner cutting
during construction
and which had caused season
ticket holders to demand refunds
because their carriages were bouncing.
In 1879, disaster struck
one unlucky train.
Al! 75 passengers lost their lives.
What was it that happened on that night?
One of the carriages that was empty
jumped off the track. There was a gale,
not a very big gale, and it blew that
carriage against the side of the bridge.
The iron fractured and down it went.
Everybody was killed.
Photographs show that really large bits
of cast iron were bent and twisted.
The impact must have been ferocious.
Is it unique in being the only
railway disaster in Britain
in which everybody has perished?
I think so and it caused huge shock
at the time
because the Victorians believed
in technology, it was their bag.
In our time it would be comparable to
a jumbo jet coming out of the sky.
And who was it who got the blame?
I think the inquiry was fixed.
The chairman had been briefed
by the Board of Trade.
They wanted to get back
at the engineers.
He blamed the engineer,
Sir Thomas Bouch.
(Michael) They say he died
of a broken heart. Do you buy that?
Not in the slightest! He was convinced
it was nothing to do with him
and by the time he died,
all the evidence showed he was right.
In typical Victorian fashion, engineers
soon set about building a structure
that would restore confidence
in the railways
and in 1887, a new
double-track bridge was opened.
Construction involved
25,000 tons of iron,
70,000 tons of concrete,
ten million bricks
and three million rivets.
The Caledonian Railway,
whose trains from London to Aberdeen
ran up the west coast,
was now vulnerable
to its competitor, North British,
which rah its trains up the east coast.
It planned to scupper its rival.
So, once the North British
has got a bridge across the Tay,
it now has the advantage
over running trains up the main line.
It has the advantage,
but for the last 24 miles into Aberdeen,
they're on Caledonian rail
and there's a junction
and it's run by Caledonian signalmen,
so every time they see
a North British express,
the Caledonian signalmen put it to red
and effectively, it's dirty tricks.
And it's in response to that
the North British thinks they've got to
expose this to the public gaze,
and the best way to do this
is by a railway race.
And they run a train from King's Cross
to Aberdeen and it takes 13 hours.
That's down from 18 hours.
Really?
They get five hours off the total?
Five hours and the west coast line
realise they're losing the business,
that dirty tricks
isn't winning them any favours,
so they retaliate almost immediately
and during June, July and August,
1895, there's a son of railway Olympiad
and people get really burned up
about it, all the newspapers get going.
And it climaxes on the 23rd of August.
You have the west coast
leaving Euston at 8pm,
the North British, east coast,
leaving King's Cross at 8pm
and they're roaring up.
At this time there are people
in York Railway Station,
cheering them through at 3am,
and then they arrive at Montrose.
North Bridge is about
four minutes ahead
and, as usual, the Caledonian inspector
stops the North British
and allows the west coast line to win.
But the North British has filled
its train with newspaper men.
And that's what they wanted to do.
They saw this and worldwide,
throughout the empire,
the dirty tricks of the Caledonian
Railways is exposed to full gaze.
And ultimately, the west coast line
won the railway race,
but the North British
won the commercial war.
And indeed the propaganda battle,
which I know from my experience is
one of the most important to win.
Exactly they had it down to a tee.
The 19th-century railway boom
opened swathes of Scotland
to leisure travellers
for the first time.
And it spurred the development
of Scottish industries,
but the hell-for-leather competition
between different railway companies
was accompanied by catastrophe.
Sometimes even brilliant Victorian
engineers had to stop to think again.
On the next Keg of this journey,
I learn how Queen Victoria
used track-side trees
to screen her from her subjects.
They were planted
at Queen Victoria's request,
because when she was going to Balmoral,
the royal train
would stop here for her breakfast.
She didn't like the locals
seeing her eating.
I lend an ear
to the history of a textile mill.
Everybody in the factory
went deaf, eventually.
- Oh, yes.
- Awful.
And I'll go out with a bang
in Aberdeenshire.
Lord! Look at that!
It has changed the shape of the quarry.