Great British Railway Journeys (2010–…): Season 4, Episode 17 - Salisbury to Castle Cary - 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
Bradshaw's Britain remains.
I'm now on the second stage
of my journey from London to Devon.
Today's leg takes me
across Wiltshire and Somerset,
starting with some of
the most iconic images of England.
On today's leg,
I visit a tourist hot spot
that's been captivating visitors
since the Victorian era...
This is the granddaddy of all castles
and cathedrals and skyscrapers.
- This is the beginning of architecture.
- Thank you very much.
II; take to the air...
I think George Bradshaw
would have loved this machine,
but he would have been
even more amazed to find out
that there would be trains
that went faster than this thing does.
And I try my hand at cloth making,
the 19th-century way.
Oh, this is more difficult
than it looks.
You're horsing around with me,
aren't you?
On this journey I'm tracking the master
engineer of the Great Western Railway,
Isambard Kingdom Brunei.
I began at one of his greatest
successes, London's Paddington Station,
and HI end my journey
in Newton Abbot,
the scene of one of his
most brilliant failures
This leg covers 51 miles. From
Wiltshire, I'll venture into Somerset,
finishing up at a station that,
for most of the year,
is a picture of peace and tranquility.
My first stop is Salisbury, whose
cathedral, with its slender spire,
has attracted the admiration of visitors
over centuries,
including the author
of my Bradshaw's Guide.
"It has the great advantage of being
not only uniform in design,
but offers a complete specimen
of the style of that age,
namely Early English."
And, in my view, that style
is one of unsurpassed elegance.
The cathedral was begun in 1220
and the main body completed in 38 years.
An astonishing feat
when you consider its scale.
The spire, the tallest in the United
Kingdom, was added over 50 years tater,
and has proudly presided over the city
for 700 years.
The artist John Constable
made this vista famous
of what Bradshaw's describes as
"a magnificent edifice
begun by Bishop Poore."
But then my Bradshaw's
strikes a different note, saying,
"Unfortunately, the city lies low,
and though its water meadows
are pleasant to look at,
the courts in which the poor live
are in a filthy state."
Evidently, there was more to Salisbury
than met the artist's eye.
Despite being founded
in the 13th century,
Salisbury could in fact
best be described as a new town,
a medieval Milton Keynes.
The original settlement,
known as Old Sarum,
was located on a hill to the north.
However, in 1220,
deteriorating relationships between
the clergy of Old Sarum and the military
led to a new cathedral being built here.
And a new city, purposefully designed
and set around it.
The new city of Salisbury
was built on a series of chequers,
a grid system a bit reminiscent
of a modern American city.
My Bradshaw's says, "Most of the streets
are laid out straight and regular
with rilles four or five feet broad
running through them
from the Avon, Nadder and Wylie."
And it was these rilles,
or water channels,
that gave so many health problems
in Victorian England.
In the summer of 1849, the medieval
water system, carrying human waste,
led to a devastating cholera epidemic
that killed nearly 200 citizens.
I'm meeting Adrian Green, curator of
the Salisbury and Wiltshire Museum.
- Adrian, good morning.
- Hello, pleasure to meet you.
I'm getting an extraordinary impression
of Salisbury in the middle 19th century.
The poor in their courts
living in filthy conditions.
What's Bradshaw's referring to?
He's referring to the places
where people used to live
in the middle of the 19th century,
which they lived in going right back
into medieval times. Filthy conditions.
And then there were these rilles, these
water channels, criss-crossing the city.
- So it was a kind of Amsterdam, was it?
- That's right.
It was often referred to
as an English Venice,
but that was glamorising the situation
because rilles were basically
open sewers running through the streets.
(Carmichael) And that gave rise to
health problems, to cholera?
(Adrian) That's right. There was
no organised water supply in Salisbury.
People got their water supply from the
ground right by where these rilles were.
So din would seep into the ground
and people would then get
their own drinking water
from the very same place
that the din was.
Was it well understood that the cholera
was coming from the water?
People were beginning
to understand that.
There were local doctors who were
beginning to pick up on the idea
that cholera seemed to be concentrated
where these open water channels were.
And they petitioned the local council
to do something about it,
but nothing happened.
So they went one stage higher.
They went to the National
Board of Health in London,
to the government inspector.
They invited down a man called
Thomas Rammell who did an inquiry
to find out what the causes were
of the terrible conditions in Salisbury.
This inquiry was carried out in 1851
and determined that disease
did indeed arise from the rilles
and recommended that
the 700-year-old waterways
be replaced with subterranean
brick-built sewers,
a mammoth engineering project
which would take years.
However, in the process of removing
the old water channels,
the Victorian workmen unearthed
hordes of archaeological treasures.
To keep the artefacts in Salisbury,
a museum was founded,
and that's where the collection
is how housed.
And here we have some of
the drainage collection on display.
(Carmichael) It looks like a fantastic
collection of everyday items.
Spoons and knives
and forks and scissors.
(Adrian) That's right.
It's a real snapshot of daily life
going back through the Middle Ages. And
in particular, a very fine collection
of pilgrim badges which date back to the
medieval period, before the Reformation.
(Carmichael) And why are these things
so nicely preserved?
(Adrian) It's because they fell into the
mud in the bottom of the water channels
and there was no oxygen there,
so it slowed down the process of decay.
So objects made out of things like
pewter, for example,
which would normally rot away
and deteriorate,
in this case have survived
to an exceptional level of preservation.
Well, it's really
a very fine collection.
An absolutely fine collection.
Let's have a look at some of the others
in storage.
OK, fantastic.
(Adrian) I thought I'd show you
one of my favourite pieces,
which is a fabulous chess piece.
(Michael) That is exquisite.
What's that made of?
It's made of walrus ivory.
It dates back to the 13th century,
which is about the time that
Salisbury Cathedral was constructed.
It's a king piece, as you can see. He's
wearing his crown, sitting on horseback,
and then protected by
a whole series of foot soldiers.
(Michael) Absolutely beautiful.
Your collection really is
of a national standard, isn't it?
That's right. We are designated by the
Department of Culture, Media and Sport
because our collections
are so important.
One of the reasons is this collection.
For more than century and a half,
railway passengers
have been attracted to Salisbury
not just for its magnificent cathedral,
but also because of its proximity
to one of the world's most enigmatic
ancient historic sites,
to which I'm headed now.
Bradshaw's says, "Salisbury Plain
is a turfy, naked tract."
"In the flattest and most solitary pan
are the celebrated Druid circles
of Stonehenge."
Bradshaw's admits that
it's ever been considered
"the greatest wonder
in the west of England",
but then says, "Stonehenge
is apt to disappoint the stranger
at the first sight,
and to some it is a trifle indeed."
Well, it may not be built on the scale
of a Victorian railway station,
but I'm impressed by its antiquity.
- Hello. How are you doing?
- Do you like Stonehenge?
Yes, of course.
I'm reading a Victorian guidebook,
a 19th-century guidebook.
It says, "Stonehenge can disappoint
the stranger at first sight."
Do you agree with that?
Do you find it disappointing?
No. Not at all.
- Where have you come from?
- I've come from Florida.
That's very interesting
because my guidebook also says
that in the 19th century,
an American came here and looked at it,
looked up at the stones
on top of each other
and wondered that anyone
should think anything of it at all.
- How do you react to that?
- He's an idiot.
(Carmichael laughs)
So, what's your reaction?
Have you been moved to see it?
Yeah. I mean, I'm here, I've paid money
to fly across the country to see it.
It's just as astounding as a pyramid.
- So you have not been disappointed?
- Not at all.
Well, you've rescued the reputation
of your nation. Well done.
- (laughs)
- Thank you.
I'm so relieved to discover that
nowadays an American has come here
and expressed the proper sense of awe.
George Bradshaw
ought to know about this.
One of the most recognisable
ancient monuments on the planet,
Stonehenge has been a UNESCO
World Heritage site since 1986.
The true significance of this antiquity
has become confused
in the mists of time,
but there are plenty of theories
and I'm hoping that Blue Badge guide
and expert David Richards
will be able to enlighten me.
- Hello, David.
- Hello, Michael.
I've been steered here as usual
by my Bradshaw's Guide,
which tells me that this is
Druids' circles. is that correct?
Sadly not so.
The Druids are a Victorian construct.
This was built by people 5,000 years
ago. Long before the Druids.
And they had to bring these stones
a long distance.
- That's the wonder, isn't it?
- It is. Astonishing.
That these stones weighing 30, 40 tons
should be dragged 25 miles
from the north,
some of them coming, the smaller ones,
from South Wales.
And the purpose of building this
was religious?
Yes, I'm sure it was.
With the setting of the midwinter sun
and the rising of the summer solstice,
I'm sure it was used
for religious purposes.
(Carmichael) And what else?
Well, it is one of the biggest,
if not the biggest, ancient cemetery.
Two hundred people are buried there.
The place is very popular
with tourists today,
but I think it was in the Victorian era,
too, wasn't it?
Absolutely, yes. The railways did that.
When the railways come to Salisbury
in 1847, everything is transformed.
The South Western Railway
advertises in The Times of London,
"Go to Stonehenge, it'll cost you
three and sixpence in an open carriage."
An open carriage! Good gracious!
On a day like this!
And the Victorians came in multitudes.
Day-trippers coming to party
and to picnic.
(tourists cheer / Ia ugh )
Just like today's tourists,
they also wanted a snapshot.
The earliest photograph of the stones
dates back to 1853
and was owned by Prince Albert himself.
But by the end of the century,
thanks to advances in technology
and the canniness of one guide,
William Judd,
an instant souvenir
was accessible to all.
Armed with a camera, he set up a mobile
studio and darkroom oh the site,
and, for the right price, of course,
he would oblige visitors
with a souvenir print.
(tourists cheer)
Bradshaw's also tells me
that there are about 140 stones
but it's impossible to count them,
and that if you count them twice and get
the same number twice, that's unlucky.
Well, that's a myth
which is still told today.
But the Victorians, mind you, when they
came, they got into all sorts of trouble
because people had read that and
they'd come here and they'd say,
"I'm going to crack this," and
they'd go round and chalk the stones.
So the stones were covered in numbers,
which local people didn't like.
- Victorian vandalism.
- Oh, absolutely.
It wasn't good.
But the worst vandalism of all
was that people would arrive,
from London I suspect, with hammers,
and they would whack the stones
and take a chunk of it back home.
And so the railways and Stonehenge
ultimately led to the Ancient Monuments
Protection Act of 1882.
What is the importance of Stonehenge
in the human story?
This is the granddaddy of all castles
and cathedrals and skyscrapers.
This is the beginning of architecture.
I could linger all day by these
enduringly fascinating stones,
but I must continue.
I'm returning to Salisbury
to travel on an alternative line
to the Great Western.
I'm on my way now to Yeovil Junction.
My guide tells me that the town has
"a fine Gothic church and a large market
which occurs on Fridays."
"In the vicinity is Brympton House,
the old seat of the Fane family."
Well, the present owners
have invited me to dinner.
There's been a manor at Brympton
since 1220.
However, the current house
dates from the early 15th century,
with Elizabethan and Jacobean additions.
It's built in its entirety
from local Somerset hamstone,
which gives the house
its mellow honeyed hue.
What a beautiful house.
I'm meeting current owner
and old acquaintance, Bill Glossop.
- Bill, how good to see you.
- Hello, nice to see you.
- Long time since we've met. Do come in.
- Thank you so much.
One of the most interesting things about
the house is this wonderful terrace.
People who come here for weddings love
to come straight out of the wedding room
and have a glass of champagne on here.
It was built by Lady Georgiana Fane
in Victorian times
and it was she who sold the land
for the railway
which runs between Yeovil and Taunton,
which has now been made into a road.
The spread of the
Victorian railway network
was largely dependent on local
landowners, like Lady Georgiana,
agreeing to sell their land.
Whether they championed
this new mode of transport
or held out in order
to make substantial gain,
without their agreement,
large swathes of countryside
would have remained inaccessible.
Thank you so much, Bill, for having us.
Lovely to see you all.
- And you.
- (all) Cheers.
We a new day, and before I leave
Yeovil I have further exploring to do.
Bradshaw's tells me that
"Yeovil is an ancient town,
the seat of a considerable glove trade."
Nowadays, the town has its finger
in a bigger pie,
and for a rural county,
manufacturing here has really taken off.
Yeovil is now home to the United
Kingdom's sole helicopter producer,
Augusta Westland.
The company's origins can be traced back
to the late 19th century,
when it was founded by the
Petter brothers, Ernest and Percy.
Westland Helicopters has a particular
place in my personal experience
and, indeed, in political history,
because an order for helicopters
led to a massive row
in Margaret Thatcher's cabinet,
the resignation of Michael Heseltine,
who stormed out of the cabinet room,
and very nearly the demise
of Margaret Thatcher herself.
Today I'm meeting up with employee
of 20 years, Ted Udall,
to find out how this firm took flight.
- Ted, good morning.
- Good morning, Michael.
I believe this Westland goes
all the way back to Victorian times.
Yes, indeed, the 1860s.
It started off as a little hardware shop
in the centre of Yeovil
and it gradually expanded from there
into stoves,
and then later on
into agriculturally machinery.
(Carmichael) When did they
get into aircraft?
(Ted) It wasn't until
the start of the First World War
when Lloyd George made a speech
in the House
where they needed more armaments
and more support for the war.
The management of the company
decided to write off
to the Admiralty and the War Office
and the Admiralty said,
"Please come and see us."
And from that they said,
"You're a hi-tech company,
why don't you build aeroplanes?"
The firm was originally commissioned
to build 30 short-patrol seaplanes.
Production was so successful
that, by 1918,
the Petters had built
their own airfield
and 1100 planes had rolled off
the production line.
With the end of the war,
they diversified into civil aircraft,
but peace was to be short lived,
and during the Second World War
they manufactured the most iconic
of British fighters, the Spitfire.
- But now the business is helicopters.
- Yes, indeed, since 1946.
(Carmichael) So give me a quick rundown
of which helicopters you deal with.
In here we've got Sea Kings
which are being refurbished,
they've been in service
quite a long time now.
We've got Merlin helicopters
on this side,
which are the current Royal Navy ones.
And we've got the Lynx
and its replacement, the Wildcat.
Bradshaw's mentions that
Yeovil was famous for glove making.
It really is a long way
from glove making to aircraft.
Yes, it certainly is. But, of course,
that was one of the reasons
why the company decided that they could
go into aircraft making anyway.
Because one of the local skills, part of
the glove-making industry, is sewing.
And aircraft, in those very early days,
you had to spread canvas over the wooden
frame and then sew it together.
So that gave the company
that confidence.
The early success of the factory
was very much linked to its proximity
to Yeovil's complex rail network,
so I'm taking to the skies
to survey how it looks today.
My lift a twin engine AW109
used for WP travel and air ambulances.
Riding alongside a train now.
It seems that Yeovil once was
pretty much criss-crossed by railways.
Yes, indeed, it was. The original
railway came in from the west
and then the other line came in
from the north to the south,
and there were at one point,
four separate railway stations,
including the one
on the main east-west line
which runs a couple of miles south
of the town.
Amazing.
I think George Bradshaw,
who loved engineering and innovation,
would have loved this machine,
but he would have been
even more amazed to find out
that there would be trains
that went faster than this thing does.
(Ted laughs)
I'm certain he would, yes.
The technology has moved on apace.
Sadly, ifs back to Earth for me
as I continue the journey westwards.
I'm leaving Yeovil from its only other
surviving station, Pen Mill,
where I've rejoined
Brunel's Great Western Railway.
My next stop is Castle Cary,
which my Bradshaw's tells me
has the remains of a castle
built by William de Percheval
in the reign of King Stephen.
I've always thought it
a very beautiful name
and I assume that it must be
one of England's sleepiest stations.
We certainly a picture
of peace and tranquillity.
And I'm told that on any normal day,
Castle Cary is used by
fewer than 800 passengers.
However, for a few days in June
most years,
that figure rises dramatically.
I'm going to meet station manager
Dave Martin to find out why.
Dave, congratulations on a lovely
station, and a very quiet one, too.
(Dave) Thank you very much.
It seems to be quite quiet today
but it's not always.
We're the closest station to the
site for Glastonbury Festival
so it turns into
quite an entertaining place to be.
- Lots of people coming by train?
- Absolutely.
About 18,000 people coming through
the station to go to the festival.
(Michael) Hard to imagine
in this little station.
(Dave) It is.
It takes a lot of organising,
and they all want to go back
on the same day as well.
(Carmichael) And they'd all be
well behaved?
(Dave) The majority are.
One or two seem to think that
they can turn up without a ticket.
(Carmichael) So, what ploys do they try?
Occasionally a few people
will come from very local stations
that aren't that well populated.
Somebody came along who'd glanced
out of the window at Bruton Station
and they'd gone through
but not quite caught the name.
We asked him where he'd come from
and he said Buxton.
We were quite happy to charge him £96.
Long before the music fans
began to pass through here,
Castle Cary was better known
for its textile industry.
By the 19th century,
the town specialised in producing
a hard-wearing, luxury fabric
made, remarkably, using horsehair.
And one company survives,
manufacturing the material
just as it did 140 years ago.
Anna Smith is the managing director.
- Anna, hello.
- Hello, hi.
Good to see you. So this is horse hair.
I wondered whether I would recognise it,
but I certainly do.
Yes, that's right. It's the tail hair
from horses, working horses,
live animals that have their tails cut.
- And what do you actually do with it?
- We weave it into upholstery fabric.
And what are the advantages of that?
It's a very durable,
hard-wearing fabric.
It'll last more than a hundred years
if it's properly upholstered.
And how long has this factory
been going?
The company's been going since 1837.
It was started by John Boyd,
who was a travelling Scotsman
who came down to this area.
(Carmichael) How unusual is it now
to produce horse hair?
There's only two of us
left in the world.
There's us and there's a company
in France, and that's it now.
I'm intrigued to see
this industrial process.
- Can we go and have a look at it?
- Yes, certainly.
First, the hair has to be straightened.
That looks like a bed of nails.
I'm not required to lie on it, am I?
No, but we pull the hair through it.
It's called a hackle.
- What's the technique, Duncan?
- Hold it tight there.
Stan with the ends.
Gradually pull them through.
Mind if I have a go at that?
Start with the ends.
Ooh. That's not so good, is it?
This is more difficult that it looked.
You're horsing around with me,
aren't you?
It takes a little bit of practice.
So how long do you do this for, Duncan?
A couple of minutes, it depends. You
can feel when it goes through easily.
(Carmichael) It's tougher than it looks
actually.
Ah, that's better.
I'm getting better, aren't I?
Oh, yes. Howl learned to hackle.
Thereby hangs a tail.
- It'll do.
- (they laugh)
It needs a little bit more work
before the weavers get it.
I think Pd better leave it
to the pros.
The hair is then dyed,
a process which takes a week.
The length of the fabric is made up
from cotton, silk or linen threads,
wound on what's called a warper
whilst the bundles of horse hair
are placed directly on the loom
and each single tail hair is picked out
to make up the width of the fabric.
I've stepped into the 19th century.
This is amazing.
Not much has changed.
It's a museum, but it's in production.
Historically, children were used
to pick the hair out of the bundles,
but the 1870 Education Act abolished
child labour in favour of schooling.
So Boyd diversified by inventing
and patenting special looms
to mimic the skills of little fingers.
Remarkably, those machines
are still in use today,
now powered by electricity
in place of steam.
So you have the horse hair
across the width,
and the yarn to give you
the length direction.
May I touch that?
Oh, yes, that's a lovely feel to it,
isn't it?
I don't want to put
my fingers in there, though.
It's a beautiful pattern.
This is really lovely.
The pattern dates back to about 1900
so it's still the original pattern.
The looms are the same speed
as hand weaving
so they only weave two to three metres
per day per loom.
Each hair is put in individually
and we have 90 hairs in one inch,
so the loom has to go
backwards and forwards 90 times
just to produce one inch of cloth.
You're producing something
really special here.
What kind of uses did it use to be
put to in Victorian times?
It was used mainly for upholstery,
but it was also used in railway
carriages because it was so durable.
Well, I think this would be fit
for use in the royal railway carriage
- of Queen Victoria.
- Definitely.
George Bradshaw might be amazed
that in the 21st century,
we're still using Victorian sewers
and the factory
is still producing horse hair.
But more astonishing is that engines
that once powered agricultural equipment
have evolved into helicopters
employed in our national defence.
On the next Keg of my journey,
I'll explore a church
that moves in mysterious ways...
That's extraordinary, Rod.
It really is moving from side to side.
...I'll find out just what it takes
to run a 19th-century signal box...
I had no idea
that what a signalman needed to do
Was so responsible and so physical.
And I'll summon all my strength
to shift a 110-ton steam locomotive.
(grunts) She's moving.
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
Bradshaw's Britain remains.
I'm now on the second stage
of my journey from London to Devon.
Today's leg takes me
across Wiltshire and Somerset,
starting with some of
the most iconic images of England.
On today's leg,
I visit a tourist hot spot
that's been captivating visitors
since the Victorian era...
This is the granddaddy of all castles
and cathedrals and skyscrapers.
- This is the beginning of architecture.
- Thank you very much.
II; take to the air...
I think George Bradshaw
would have loved this machine,
but he would have been
even more amazed to find out
that there would be trains
that went faster than this thing does.
And I try my hand at cloth making,
the 19th-century way.
Oh, this is more difficult
than it looks.
You're horsing around with me,
aren't you?
On this journey I'm tracking the master
engineer of the Great Western Railway,
Isambard Kingdom Brunei.
I began at one of his greatest
successes, London's Paddington Station,
and HI end my journey
in Newton Abbot,
the scene of one of his
most brilliant failures
This leg covers 51 miles. From
Wiltshire, I'll venture into Somerset,
finishing up at a station that,
for most of the year,
is a picture of peace and tranquility.
My first stop is Salisbury, whose
cathedral, with its slender spire,
has attracted the admiration of visitors
over centuries,
including the author
of my Bradshaw's Guide.
"It has the great advantage of being
not only uniform in design,
but offers a complete specimen
of the style of that age,
namely Early English."
And, in my view, that style
is one of unsurpassed elegance.
The cathedral was begun in 1220
and the main body completed in 38 years.
An astonishing feat
when you consider its scale.
The spire, the tallest in the United
Kingdom, was added over 50 years tater,
and has proudly presided over the city
for 700 years.
The artist John Constable
made this vista famous
of what Bradshaw's describes as
"a magnificent edifice
begun by Bishop Poore."
But then my Bradshaw's
strikes a different note, saying,
"Unfortunately, the city lies low,
and though its water meadows
are pleasant to look at,
the courts in which the poor live
are in a filthy state."
Evidently, there was more to Salisbury
than met the artist's eye.
Despite being founded
in the 13th century,
Salisbury could in fact
best be described as a new town,
a medieval Milton Keynes.
The original settlement,
known as Old Sarum,
was located on a hill to the north.
However, in 1220,
deteriorating relationships between
the clergy of Old Sarum and the military
led to a new cathedral being built here.
And a new city, purposefully designed
and set around it.
The new city of Salisbury
was built on a series of chequers,
a grid system a bit reminiscent
of a modern American city.
My Bradshaw's says, "Most of the streets
are laid out straight and regular
with rilles four or five feet broad
running through them
from the Avon, Nadder and Wylie."
And it was these rilles,
or water channels,
that gave so many health problems
in Victorian England.
In the summer of 1849, the medieval
water system, carrying human waste,
led to a devastating cholera epidemic
that killed nearly 200 citizens.
I'm meeting Adrian Green, curator of
the Salisbury and Wiltshire Museum.
- Adrian, good morning.
- Hello, pleasure to meet you.
I'm getting an extraordinary impression
of Salisbury in the middle 19th century.
The poor in their courts
living in filthy conditions.
What's Bradshaw's referring to?
He's referring to the places
where people used to live
in the middle of the 19th century,
which they lived in going right back
into medieval times. Filthy conditions.
And then there were these rilles, these
water channels, criss-crossing the city.
- So it was a kind of Amsterdam, was it?
- That's right.
It was often referred to
as an English Venice,
but that was glamorising the situation
because rilles were basically
open sewers running through the streets.
(Carmichael) And that gave rise to
health problems, to cholera?
(Adrian) That's right. There was
no organised water supply in Salisbury.
People got their water supply from the
ground right by where these rilles were.
So din would seep into the ground
and people would then get
their own drinking water
from the very same place
that the din was.
Was it well understood that the cholera
was coming from the water?
People were beginning
to understand that.
There were local doctors who were
beginning to pick up on the idea
that cholera seemed to be concentrated
where these open water channels were.
And they petitioned the local council
to do something about it,
but nothing happened.
So they went one stage higher.
They went to the National
Board of Health in London,
to the government inspector.
They invited down a man called
Thomas Rammell who did an inquiry
to find out what the causes were
of the terrible conditions in Salisbury.
This inquiry was carried out in 1851
and determined that disease
did indeed arise from the rilles
and recommended that
the 700-year-old waterways
be replaced with subterranean
brick-built sewers,
a mammoth engineering project
which would take years.
However, in the process of removing
the old water channels,
the Victorian workmen unearthed
hordes of archaeological treasures.
To keep the artefacts in Salisbury,
a museum was founded,
and that's where the collection
is how housed.
And here we have some of
the drainage collection on display.
(Carmichael) It looks like a fantastic
collection of everyday items.
Spoons and knives
and forks and scissors.
(Adrian) That's right.
It's a real snapshot of daily life
going back through the Middle Ages. And
in particular, a very fine collection
of pilgrim badges which date back to the
medieval period, before the Reformation.
(Carmichael) And why are these things
so nicely preserved?
(Adrian) It's because they fell into the
mud in the bottom of the water channels
and there was no oxygen there,
so it slowed down the process of decay.
So objects made out of things like
pewter, for example,
which would normally rot away
and deteriorate,
in this case have survived
to an exceptional level of preservation.
Well, it's really
a very fine collection.
An absolutely fine collection.
Let's have a look at some of the others
in storage.
OK, fantastic.
(Adrian) I thought I'd show you
one of my favourite pieces,
which is a fabulous chess piece.
(Michael) That is exquisite.
What's that made of?
It's made of walrus ivory.
It dates back to the 13th century,
which is about the time that
Salisbury Cathedral was constructed.
It's a king piece, as you can see. He's
wearing his crown, sitting on horseback,
and then protected by
a whole series of foot soldiers.
(Michael) Absolutely beautiful.
Your collection really is
of a national standard, isn't it?
That's right. We are designated by the
Department of Culture, Media and Sport
because our collections
are so important.
One of the reasons is this collection.
For more than century and a half,
railway passengers
have been attracted to Salisbury
not just for its magnificent cathedral,
but also because of its proximity
to one of the world's most enigmatic
ancient historic sites,
to which I'm headed now.
Bradshaw's says, "Salisbury Plain
is a turfy, naked tract."
"In the flattest and most solitary pan
are the celebrated Druid circles
of Stonehenge."
Bradshaw's admits that
it's ever been considered
"the greatest wonder
in the west of England",
but then says, "Stonehenge
is apt to disappoint the stranger
at the first sight,
and to some it is a trifle indeed."
Well, it may not be built on the scale
of a Victorian railway station,
but I'm impressed by its antiquity.
- Hello. How are you doing?
- Do you like Stonehenge?
Yes, of course.
I'm reading a Victorian guidebook,
a 19th-century guidebook.
It says, "Stonehenge can disappoint
the stranger at first sight."
Do you agree with that?
Do you find it disappointing?
No. Not at all.
- Where have you come from?
- I've come from Florida.
That's very interesting
because my guidebook also says
that in the 19th century,
an American came here and looked at it,
looked up at the stones
on top of each other
and wondered that anyone
should think anything of it at all.
- How do you react to that?
- He's an idiot.
(Carmichael laughs)
So, what's your reaction?
Have you been moved to see it?
Yeah. I mean, I'm here, I've paid money
to fly across the country to see it.
It's just as astounding as a pyramid.
- So you have not been disappointed?
- Not at all.
Well, you've rescued the reputation
of your nation. Well done.
- (laughs)
- Thank you.
I'm so relieved to discover that
nowadays an American has come here
and expressed the proper sense of awe.
George Bradshaw
ought to know about this.
One of the most recognisable
ancient monuments on the planet,
Stonehenge has been a UNESCO
World Heritage site since 1986.
The true significance of this antiquity
has become confused
in the mists of time,
but there are plenty of theories
and I'm hoping that Blue Badge guide
and expert David Richards
will be able to enlighten me.
- Hello, David.
- Hello, Michael.
I've been steered here as usual
by my Bradshaw's Guide,
which tells me that this is
Druids' circles. is that correct?
Sadly not so.
The Druids are a Victorian construct.
This was built by people 5,000 years
ago. Long before the Druids.
And they had to bring these stones
a long distance.
- That's the wonder, isn't it?
- It is. Astonishing.
That these stones weighing 30, 40 tons
should be dragged 25 miles
from the north,
some of them coming, the smaller ones,
from South Wales.
And the purpose of building this
was religious?
Yes, I'm sure it was.
With the setting of the midwinter sun
and the rising of the summer solstice,
I'm sure it was used
for religious purposes.
(Carmichael) And what else?
Well, it is one of the biggest,
if not the biggest, ancient cemetery.
Two hundred people are buried there.
The place is very popular
with tourists today,
but I think it was in the Victorian era,
too, wasn't it?
Absolutely, yes. The railways did that.
When the railways come to Salisbury
in 1847, everything is transformed.
The South Western Railway
advertises in The Times of London,
"Go to Stonehenge, it'll cost you
three and sixpence in an open carriage."
An open carriage! Good gracious!
On a day like this!
And the Victorians came in multitudes.
Day-trippers coming to party
and to picnic.
(tourists cheer / Ia ugh )
Just like today's tourists,
they also wanted a snapshot.
The earliest photograph of the stones
dates back to 1853
and was owned by Prince Albert himself.
But by the end of the century,
thanks to advances in technology
and the canniness of one guide,
William Judd,
an instant souvenir
was accessible to all.
Armed with a camera, he set up a mobile
studio and darkroom oh the site,
and, for the right price, of course,
he would oblige visitors
with a souvenir print.
(tourists cheer)
Bradshaw's also tells me
that there are about 140 stones
but it's impossible to count them,
and that if you count them twice and get
the same number twice, that's unlucky.
Well, that's a myth
which is still told today.
But the Victorians, mind you, when they
came, they got into all sorts of trouble
because people had read that and
they'd come here and they'd say,
"I'm going to crack this," and
they'd go round and chalk the stones.
So the stones were covered in numbers,
which local people didn't like.
- Victorian vandalism.
- Oh, absolutely.
It wasn't good.
But the worst vandalism of all
was that people would arrive,
from London I suspect, with hammers,
and they would whack the stones
and take a chunk of it back home.
And so the railways and Stonehenge
ultimately led to the Ancient Monuments
Protection Act of 1882.
What is the importance of Stonehenge
in the human story?
This is the granddaddy of all castles
and cathedrals and skyscrapers.
This is the beginning of architecture.
I could linger all day by these
enduringly fascinating stones,
but I must continue.
I'm returning to Salisbury
to travel on an alternative line
to the Great Western.
I'm on my way now to Yeovil Junction.
My guide tells me that the town has
"a fine Gothic church and a large market
which occurs on Fridays."
"In the vicinity is Brympton House,
the old seat of the Fane family."
Well, the present owners
have invited me to dinner.
There's been a manor at Brympton
since 1220.
However, the current house
dates from the early 15th century,
with Elizabethan and Jacobean additions.
It's built in its entirety
from local Somerset hamstone,
which gives the house
its mellow honeyed hue.
What a beautiful house.
I'm meeting current owner
and old acquaintance, Bill Glossop.
- Bill, how good to see you.
- Hello, nice to see you.
- Long time since we've met. Do come in.
- Thank you so much.
One of the most interesting things about
the house is this wonderful terrace.
People who come here for weddings love
to come straight out of the wedding room
and have a glass of champagne on here.
It was built by Lady Georgiana Fane
in Victorian times
and it was she who sold the land
for the railway
which runs between Yeovil and Taunton,
which has now been made into a road.
The spread of the
Victorian railway network
was largely dependent on local
landowners, like Lady Georgiana,
agreeing to sell their land.
Whether they championed
this new mode of transport
or held out in order
to make substantial gain,
without their agreement,
large swathes of countryside
would have remained inaccessible.
Thank you so much, Bill, for having us.
Lovely to see you all.
- And you.
- (all) Cheers.
We a new day, and before I leave
Yeovil I have further exploring to do.
Bradshaw's tells me that
"Yeovil is an ancient town,
the seat of a considerable glove trade."
Nowadays, the town has its finger
in a bigger pie,
and for a rural county,
manufacturing here has really taken off.
Yeovil is now home to the United
Kingdom's sole helicopter producer,
Augusta Westland.
The company's origins can be traced back
to the late 19th century,
when it was founded by the
Petter brothers, Ernest and Percy.
Westland Helicopters has a particular
place in my personal experience
and, indeed, in political history,
because an order for helicopters
led to a massive row
in Margaret Thatcher's cabinet,
the resignation of Michael Heseltine,
who stormed out of the cabinet room,
and very nearly the demise
of Margaret Thatcher herself.
Today I'm meeting up with employee
of 20 years, Ted Udall,
to find out how this firm took flight.
- Ted, good morning.
- Good morning, Michael.
I believe this Westland goes
all the way back to Victorian times.
Yes, indeed, the 1860s.
It started off as a little hardware shop
in the centre of Yeovil
and it gradually expanded from there
into stoves,
and then later on
into agriculturally machinery.
(Carmichael) When did they
get into aircraft?
(Ted) It wasn't until
the start of the First World War
when Lloyd George made a speech
in the House
where they needed more armaments
and more support for the war.
The management of the company
decided to write off
to the Admiralty and the War Office
and the Admiralty said,
"Please come and see us."
And from that they said,
"You're a hi-tech company,
why don't you build aeroplanes?"
The firm was originally commissioned
to build 30 short-patrol seaplanes.
Production was so successful
that, by 1918,
the Petters had built
their own airfield
and 1100 planes had rolled off
the production line.
With the end of the war,
they diversified into civil aircraft,
but peace was to be short lived,
and during the Second World War
they manufactured the most iconic
of British fighters, the Spitfire.
- But now the business is helicopters.
- Yes, indeed, since 1946.
(Carmichael) So give me a quick rundown
of which helicopters you deal with.
In here we've got Sea Kings
which are being refurbished,
they've been in service
quite a long time now.
We've got Merlin helicopters
on this side,
which are the current Royal Navy ones.
And we've got the Lynx
and its replacement, the Wildcat.
Bradshaw's mentions that
Yeovil was famous for glove making.
It really is a long way
from glove making to aircraft.
Yes, it certainly is. But, of course,
that was one of the reasons
why the company decided that they could
go into aircraft making anyway.
Because one of the local skills, part of
the glove-making industry, is sewing.
And aircraft, in those very early days,
you had to spread canvas over the wooden
frame and then sew it together.
So that gave the company
that confidence.
The early success of the factory
was very much linked to its proximity
to Yeovil's complex rail network,
so I'm taking to the skies
to survey how it looks today.
My lift a twin engine AW109
used for WP travel and air ambulances.
Riding alongside a train now.
It seems that Yeovil once was
pretty much criss-crossed by railways.
Yes, indeed, it was. The original
railway came in from the west
and then the other line came in
from the north to the south,
and there were at one point,
four separate railway stations,
including the one
on the main east-west line
which runs a couple of miles south
of the town.
Amazing.
I think George Bradshaw,
who loved engineering and innovation,
would have loved this machine,
but he would have been
even more amazed to find out
that there would be trains
that went faster than this thing does.
(Ted laughs)
I'm certain he would, yes.
The technology has moved on apace.
Sadly, ifs back to Earth for me
as I continue the journey westwards.
I'm leaving Yeovil from its only other
surviving station, Pen Mill,
where I've rejoined
Brunel's Great Western Railway.
My next stop is Castle Cary,
which my Bradshaw's tells me
has the remains of a castle
built by William de Percheval
in the reign of King Stephen.
I've always thought it
a very beautiful name
and I assume that it must be
one of England's sleepiest stations.
We certainly a picture
of peace and tranquillity.
And I'm told that on any normal day,
Castle Cary is used by
fewer than 800 passengers.
However, for a few days in June
most years,
that figure rises dramatically.
I'm going to meet station manager
Dave Martin to find out why.
Dave, congratulations on a lovely
station, and a very quiet one, too.
(Dave) Thank you very much.
It seems to be quite quiet today
but it's not always.
We're the closest station to the
site for Glastonbury Festival
so it turns into
quite an entertaining place to be.
- Lots of people coming by train?
- Absolutely.
About 18,000 people coming through
the station to go to the festival.
(Michael) Hard to imagine
in this little station.
(Dave) It is.
It takes a lot of organising,
and they all want to go back
on the same day as well.
(Carmichael) And they'd all be
well behaved?
(Dave) The majority are.
One or two seem to think that
they can turn up without a ticket.
(Carmichael) So, what ploys do they try?
Occasionally a few people
will come from very local stations
that aren't that well populated.
Somebody came along who'd glanced
out of the window at Bruton Station
and they'd gone through
but not quite caught the name.
We asked him where he'd come from
and he said Buxton.
We were quite happy to charge him £96.
Long before the music fans
began to pass through here,
Castle Cary was better known
for its textile industry.
By the 19th century,
the town specialised in producing
a hard-wearing, luxury fabric
made, remarkably, using horsehair.
And one company survives,
manufacturing the material
just as it did 140 years ago.
Anna Smith is the managing director.
- Anna, hello.
- Hello, hi.
Good to see you. So this is horse hair.
I wondered whether I would recognise it,
but I certainly do.
Yes, that's right. It's the tail hair
from horses, working horses,
live animals that have their tails cut.
- And what do you actually do with it?
- We weave it into upholstery fabric.
And what are the advantages of that?
It's a very durable,
hard-wearing fabric.
It'll last more than a hundred years
if it's properly upholstered.
And how long has this factory
been going?
The company's been going since 1837.
It was started by John Boyd,
who was a travelling Scotsman
who came down to this area.
(Carmichael) How unusual is it now
to produce horse hair?
There's only two of us
left in the world.
There's us and there's a company
in France, and that's it now.
I'm intrigued to see
this industrial process.
- Can we go and have a look at it?
- Yes, certainly.
First, the hair has to be straightened.
That looks like a bed of nails.
I'm not required to lie on it, am I?
No, but we pull the hair through it.
It's called a hackle.
- What's the technique, Duncan?
- Hold it tight there.
Stan with the ends.
Gradually pull them through.
Mind if I have a go at that?
Start with the ends.
Ooh. That's not so good, is it?
This is more difficult that it looked.
You're horsing around with me,
aren't you?
It takes a little bit of practice.
So how long do you do this for, Duncan?
A couple of minutes, it depends. You
can feel when it goes through easily.
(Carmichael) It's tougher than it looks
actually.
Ah, that's better.
I'm getting better, aren't I?
Oh, yes. Howl learned to hackle.
Thereby hangs a tail.
- It'll do.
- (they laugh)
It needs a little bit more work
before the weavers get it.
I think Pd better leave it
to the pros.
The hair is then dyed,
a process which takes a week.
The length of the fabric is made up
from cotton, silk or linen threads,
wound on what's called a warper
whilst the bundles of horse hair
are placed directly on the loom
and each single tail hair is picked out
to make up the width of the fabric.
I've stepped into the 19th century.
This is amazing.
Not much has changed.
It's a museum, but it's in production.
Historically, children were used
to pick the hair out of the bundles,
but the 1870 Education Act abolished
child labour in favour of schooling.
So Boyd diversified by inventing
and patenting special looms
to mimic the skills of little fingers.
Remarkably, those machines
are still in use today,
now powered by electricity
in place of steam.
So you have the horse hair
across the width,
and the yarn to give you
the length direction.
May I touch that?
Oh, yes, that's a lovely feel to it,
isn't it?
I don't want to put
my fingers in there, though.
It's a beautiful pattern.
This is really lovely.
The pattern dates back to about 1900
so it's still the original pattern.
The looms are the same speed
as hand weaving
so they only weave two to three metres
per day per loom.
Each hair is put in individually
and we have 90 hairs in one inch,
so the loom has to go
backwards and forwards 90 times
just to produce one inch of cloth.
You're producing something
really special here.
What kind of uses did it use to be
put to in Victorian times?
It was used mainly for upholstery,
but it was also used in railway
carriages because it was so durable.
Well, I think this would be fit
for use in the royal railway carriage
- of Queen Victoria.
- Definitely.
George Bradshaw might be amazed
that in the 21st century,
we're still using Victorian sewers
and the factory
is still producing horse hair.
But more astonishing is that engines
that once powered agricultural equipment
have evolved into helicopters
employed in our national defence.
On the next Keg of my journey,
I'll explore a church
that moves in mysterious ways...
That's extraordinary, Rod.
It really is moving from side to side.
...I'll find out just what it takes
to run a 19th-century signal box...
I had no idea
that what a signalman needed to do
Was so responsible and so physical.
And I'll summon all my strength
to shift a 110-ton steam locomotive.
(grunts) She's moving.