Great British Railway Journeys (2010–…): Season 4, Episode 21 - Killarney to Cobh - full transcript
In 1840, one man transformed travel
in Britain and Ireland.
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 islands
to see what of Bradshaw's world remains.
In pursuit of my railway journeys,
I've once more crossed the Irish Sea.
When my Bradshaw's Descriptive Railway
Handbook of Great Britain and Ireland
was published in the 1860s,
Britain and Ireland were a single state
under the reign of Queen Victoria.
My journey will take me
from the rugged beauty of County Kerry,
across Ireland's rural Midlands and
deposit me on the west coast at Galway.
On today's journey, I'll be sampling
this region's Victorian delicacies...
I will be able to taste butter
that has been absorbed
- through the shell of this egg.
- (man) You certainly will.
Mmm! I certainly do!
Exploring a stunning landscape
shot to fame by rails and royals...
If it's good for the royal family,
it's good for everyone.
And risking life and limb
for the gift of the gab.
- You have got to be kidding.
- Just a little now. More.
Here goes then.
I look forward to being eloquent.
Using my “Bradshaws Guide”,
I'm on tracks which opened up
the rich resources of the southern pan
of the island of Ireland
to tourists and trade.
I'll then travel north to discover
the isle's Victorian heart
before turning west to finish
in picturesque Galway.
Today's stretch begins
in Killarney's National Park,
then takes me east through Mallow
and on to Cork and the coast.
My first stop is one of this
verdant island's renowned beauty spots.
With delightful Victorian pomposity,
my Bradshaw's says,
"To the majority of men who rush from
smoky London and the cares of business
to feast their eyes upon the beauty
and to inhale the fresh air
of the fields, lakes and mountains,
we recommend a trip to Ireland
and the lovely lakes of Killarney."
Really, my Bradshaw's rarely bestowed
such praise as on this place.
The countryside around Killarney is
famous for scenic lakes and mountains.
And my guidebook is lyrical about
its silvem beauty and wild grandeur.
"Bradshaw's" is definitive about
where the railway tourist should begin.
“Whether his stay is Kong or short,
the first excursion he should make
is to the far-famed Gap of Dunloe."
I'm heading straight there
to meet guide Mike O'Connor.
- Hello, Mike.
- Hello, Michael.
- You're welcome to the Gap of Dunloe.
- What is the Gap?
The Gap of Dunloe is a glacial breach.
The ice,
moving in a north-easterly direction,
gouged out this wonderful valley
for all of us to enjoy today.
It is a fantastic sight.
Bradshaw's has five pages on Killarney.
Says, "The usual mode of proceeding
is to hire a car or pony
and ride halfway through the pass."
"By this journey you will be able to see
all the most celebrated
and remarkable portions of the scenery,
and to learn from the civil,
well-informed and garrulous guides."
- I'm hoping that might be you, Mike.
- Thank you. I hope it will.
Amazingly, I can still tour the Gap
in a traditional horse and trap.
- Hello!
- Just as Water/ans would have.
- Alright to jump aboard?
- Get on board.
Thank you.
Until the mid 19th century,
this landscape was a well-kept secret,
enjoyed by the locals and landed elite.
But that was soon to change.
1853, the coming of the railway,
it opened up Killarney.
Some say it was like a continental
airport opening, brought people in.
But I would say it was like
the information superhighway opening.
The mail could get out, the telegraph
lines were run along the railway tracks
and communications with the outside
world. That all helped in no small way.
The rails brought visitors
to explore this remote region,
but it was a certain VIP
who really brought fame to Killarney.
It's very clear that Killarney today
attracts a lot of tourists.
That actually has a lot to do
with Queen Victoria herself, doesn't it?
Yes, Queen Vic came in August 1861
and spent three nights in Killarney,
and, of course, all the newspapers
of the day sent over
their best illustrators
and their writers.
Some of the sketches that went back
were definitely a big influence
in the people travelling
to where royalty travelled.
If it was good enough
for the royal family,
it was good enough for everyone.
Queen Victoria's visit helped
to put Killarney on the map.
But I don't suppose that she risked
her dignity as I'm about to.
It says here, "The guides, being
generally provided with a bugle,
produce notes which are echoed back
again by the Carrantual on one side
and the purple mountains on the other."
And I can't help noticing
that you've brought a bugle.
- Shall we give it a go?
- Yes, we will.
Unfortunately, today's guides
aren't practised buglers,
so testing the echo falls to me.
(splutters)
(faint bugle sound)
(spluttering)
(bugle sounds)
(bugle echoes)
That was not so bad.
Even my bugling can't spoil
Killarney's National Park.
We 100 square kilometres of mountains,
woodland and the famous lakes
which my guidebook ranks amongst
the finest in the British isles.
It says, “Lochs Lomond, Katrine
and Windermere, beautiful as they are,
do not possess the various attractions
of these small but most lovely lakes."
- Hello.
- Morning, Michael.
- Morning, Dermot.
- Thank you very much indeed.
Back in 1861,
a highlight of Queen Victoria's visit
was a stately cruise
on these peaceful waters.
Quite a lot of spectators
took to the water, too.
(Mike) There are reports at the time
of about up to 800 boats,
but I think that is a lot of boats,
actually, given the size of our lakes,
but there were quite a lot of people
who came out and just rode around.
The state barge was the biggest boat
that was on this lake itself
and it was very elaborate.
So, Killarney witnessed, in 1861,
something of a royal regatta.
Absolutely.
One could say that definitely.
While touring the lakes,
“Bradshaws” instructs me to look out
for the arbutus tree, saying,
"Nowhere is it found in such rich
luxuriance as at Killarney."
This rare shrub usually grows
only in Spain or Portugal,
but flourishes here
thanks to the Gulf Stream.
In the 19th century, Killarney craftsmen
discovered its fine-grained wood
was perfect for creating
intricate inlaid furniture.
We come to nearby Muckross House
to view its exquisite collection
with guide Anne Tangney.
- Anne.
- Hello.
- Hello.
- Welcome.
Thank you. I've been reading about,
and indeed seeing, arbutus trees
and this table is an arbutus?
(Anne) These were made from arbutus
and yew wood.
It was a thriving industry
in Killarney in the 1850s.
And there were about six families
involved in it.
And they employed 40 to 50 people.
And the lovely features of this
are the scenes of Killarney.
- See here, Muckross Abbey?
- Yes.
The Old Weir Bridge, which I believe
you passed today on your travels.
And again, another featured image,
always put on their pieces,
is the actual arbutus tree itself.
So if you can see,
look at the fruit of it here.
- (Carmichael) How lovely.
- Lovely.
These days,
Muckross is open to the public,
but in the 19th century
it was the home of the local MP.
In 1861, the royal party
came to stay here
and a special piece of furniture
was sculpted for the Queen's suite.
So, did Queen Victoria
stay in these rooms?
Yes, these three rooms were given over
for her complete stay.
This was her boudoir,
her private sitting room.
Is this piece the gift she was given?
(Anne) This is the piece that three
craftsmen worked on for many months.
How fabulous.
What a perfect gift for a queen.
A beautiful piece. We're delighted
to still have it here in the house.
I'm now leaving this beautiful landscape
to continue my journey.
I shall long remember Killarney,
which even on a wet day
is mournfully magnificent.
I'm travelling east, along the line
which opened up this region
to commerce and visitors
in the 1850s.
My guidebook has brought me
into County Cork
and I'll soon be arriving
at the town of Mallow,
which is known as
the crossroads of Munster,
because this railway line
from west to east
is intersected by another
travelling north to south.
Munster is one of Ireland's
four historic provinces.
With the arrival of the rails
came day-trippers and holidaymakers,
hungry for heritage.
I'm leaving the train at Mallow
to explore an imposing fortification,
irresistible to readers
of my "Bradshaw's Guide".
The magnificent,
15th-century Blarney Castle.
Its picturesque ruins chimed
with the ideals of romanticism,
which was popular at the turn
of the 19th century.
And in 1887, a special railway line was
built to bring visitors to its gates.
They made a beeline for the tower,
to seek the famous Blarney Stone,
of which my guidebook writes,
"To kiss it, the traveller
must be lowered 20ft."
"When having kissed it,
nobody can refuse you anything."
Can it really be that you have to be
lowered 20ft to kiss the stone?
Time Will tell.
Victorian romantics were entranced
by the stories which abound
regarding this famous stone.
Some believe it was the pillow
of a Gaelic saint,
others that ifs a sacred rock
brought to Ireland
from Jerusalem during the Crusades.
Whatever the truth, kissing it
is supposed to make you persuasive.
Dennis Cronin helps tourists to get
their lips in position.
- Hello. Would you be Dennis?
- I would indeed, Michael.
- Well, I've come about this stone.
- Yes.
- What will it do for me?
- It will give you the gift of the gab.
I'm very short of that.
The origins of the ritual are lost,
but by the 19th century,
it was an established tradition.
Thankfully, my guidebooks description
of a 20ft drop is exaggerated.
But even so, kissing the stone requires
more dexterity than your average snog.
- What's the method here?
- We'll show you very easily.
Be seated with your back to the wall,
my good friend.
Back to the wall, eh'?
Well, I'm used to that, alright.
Come to me. Raise your hands, left
and right, please, and hold the bars.
- Drift this way a little. Head back.
- You have got to be kidding.
- Just a little now. More.
- OK, here goes then.
I look forward to being eloquent.
(kisses)
- Very good. Back up to me.
- Oh, that's the difficult bit.
Oh, Dennis.
I suddenly feel as though I could
speak very eloquently in many tongues.
- And you've enjoyed.
- What a wonderful way to end the day.
- Thanks.
- Bye, friend.
Since the mid 19th century,
the Blarney estate has been owned
by the Colthurst family who built the
impressive Blarney House in the grounds.
- Charles.
- Michael.
- How good of you to have me to stay.
- You're very, very welcome.
What a lovely, lovely house.
Constructed in the Scottish
baronial style in the 1870s,
the house has recently been restored
to full Victorian grandeur.
Although it's open to the public,
it's a rare privilege to sleep here.
Here we are, we're coming into
the North Room,
which will be your bedroom
for the night.
Turret with a bath,
and then out the north window
we have a very good view
of the castle to the north
and that will be floodlit
later on tonight.
A turret with a bath
and a room with a view of a castle.
I shall sleep very well, Charles.
Thank you so much.
You're most welcome
and I hope you do.
After a restful night
in the shadow of Blarney Castle,
I'm retracing my steps
to Mallow Station.
- Which platform for Cork?
- This side, sir. Just here beside us.
- Thank you. Bye.
- Bye.
My next train will carry me south
towards the capital
of this beautiful region.
I'm following the Great Southern
and Western Railway,
begun in the 1840s
to link the fertile south to Dublin.
The train from Mallow rolls through
beautiful green countryside,
so typical of Ireland,
but my Bradshaw's promises me
a contrast when we arrive in Cork
"A city port and capital of County Cork,
and Munster province on the River Lee."
"The rail reaches the town
by a tunnel half a mile long."
I believe the tunnel is still there,
and from what I remember,
the city bears the marks
of its splendid maritime heritage.
The building of the tunnel
was led by William Dargan,
father of the Irish railways,
and Sir John Macneill.
It took seven years to construct
at the cost of several lives.
It was finally completed in 1855,
ready to carry passengers
and freight from the city of Cork.
The end of the half-mile tunnel
tells us that we have arrived at Cork,
at the station known as Kent.
The current station opened in 1893,
but was renamed in 1966
to commemorate nationalist rebel
Thomas Kent,
executed by the British
after the 1916 Rising.
At that time, the city was a stronghold
of anti-British sentiment,
but in the 1800s it was a loyal city
that had strong links with the Empire,
forged through trade.
Cork today bustles with tourists,
but my Bradshaw's Guide notes,
"There's a large export trade
to the value of £3 million
in grain, cattle, whiskey, provisions
and especially country butter."
And that flow of comestibles
laid the ground
for the development of retail markets
to supply the local people
with delicious products
from this fertile land.
The best place to sample
the finest Cork produce
is the English Market
in the heart of the city.
Local historian Dermot O'Driscoll
knows its rich history.
- Dermot!
- How lovely to see you.
- Good to meet you.
- What a beautiful market.
- Amazing, isn't it?
- We're really proud of it.
- Well, you should be. How old is it?
This market was opened in 1788,
so it's 220, 225 years old now.
(Carmichael) The architecture
I'm looking at,
that maybe is not quite as old as that.
This section of the market
was rebuilt in 1862.
Which is about the time
Queen Victoria visited Ireland
and the time of my Bradshaw's Guide.
Around the time the market was founded,
the rulers of the expanding empire
were utilising Corks local bounty
to the full.
The hinterland of Cork, very rich,
great for grain growing,
excellent for beef growing,
which led to a huge trade
in beef for provisioning ships,
your former colonies in the east coast
of America and the Caribbean.
Cork butter had
an international reputation
from the middle of the 18th century
and that was exported around the world.
Initially, Cork produce
was exported by boat.
But the advent of rail transport
gave the city an extra edge.
Many of those things
in the middle of the 19th century,
they could be picked up
from their point of origin by train,
brought here to Cork
and then sent on by sea.
From about the 1850s onwards,
there were six different rail lines
radiating out of the city.
The main one up to Dublin
and then others to west and east Cork.
As the decades went on through
the 1850s, '60s and so on,
they made connections, especially with
the seaports on the west Cork coast.
The English Market is so called
because its founders,
the City Corporation, were Protestant
Conservatives loyal to the Crown.
The name fell out of favour
in the 20th century,
when the island of Ireland
was riven by Troubles.
But in recent decades,
tensions have eased,
and the name has gained currency again.
In 2011, the market even welcomed
the Queen on an official visit.
You've lived through
troubled periods, as I have.
Were you not astonished
by the idea that the British Queen
would visit the Republic of Ireland?
Did you see that coming?
Attitudes have changed on all sides.
People understand the past better.
We are all more open now
and maybe more forgiving
and it's better to look forward
than to look back all the time.
The modern market offers
some local specialities,
born out of necessity
in the days before refrigeration.
I'm keen to try so-called battleboard,
dried salt fish that got its name
from its plank-like appearance.
Now, Michael,
here's some of the battleboard,
and an old battleboard here,
Pat O'Connell, who's the fishmonger.
- (all laugh)
- Pat, very good to see you.
Hello, Michael.
Very pleased to meet you.
- (Dermot) This is the stock fish.
- It looks incredibly salty.
It is incredibly salty,
but it tastes really, really good.
The secret is
that you soak it overnight.
If you take it like this, you're going
to end up an alcoholic in a short time!
- May I try some, please?
- Come over here and we'll have a try.
I'll give you a little taste.
Well, I must say, it looks a great deal
better now than it does over there.
- Doesn't it a little bit?
- Spot the difference!
- You're going to do Mother, are you?
- (Pat) I'll do Mother, yeah.
Now this is the old traditional way,
where you soak it overnight...
boil it up,
change the water the next morning...
(Carmichael) Yes.
And then you boil it up with some
onion and some good Irish potatoes.
Very important.
- That's good.
- Powerfully salty still, isn't it'?
- But it is lovely.
- (Pat) That is the nature of it.
Thank you very much
and your very good health, sir.
- Sláinte!
- That's what I meant to say!
Salting fish is one way in which locals
preserved food in Victorian times.
Thrifty farmers' wives had a clever
method for keeping eggs fresh.
Michael, this is Gerry Moynihan, and
we're here to sample some buttered eggs.
Welcome to our market, Michael.
Thank you. Buttered eggs, that does
sound intriguing. May I try one, please?
Sure, we'll give you this nice fresh one
here, nice and freshly boiled.
So, what is a buttered egg?
Has it got butter inside it?
Well, no, it's not butter inside it,
but the shell is covered with butter
and it's done when the egg
is very, very fresh.
The old theory was that
the egg should be taken
before the hen missed the egg, as such.
It's coated with butter,
it seals the shell of the egg
and it preserves the egg
at that level of freshness.
I will be able to taste butter,
absorbed through the shell of this egg.
- You certainly will indeed, Michael.
- Mmm! I certainly do.
- Very nice.
- Now this one may catch on.
(laughs)
In the 19th century, with the prime cuts
of Cork beef and pork
being reserved for export
and affluent customers,
the less well-off locals had to get
creative with what was left.
- This is Kathleen here, at O'Reillys.
- Hello, Kathleen. Very nice to see you.
(Dermot) Makers and sellers
of drisheen and tripe.
- Kathleen, what is drisheen?
- It's a pure blood pudding.
It's just the blood from the cow
or the sheep.
What do you serve it with?
We serve it with the tripe
and you can have some potato with it
or some bread, but we just serve it
with the tripe here.
Well, let me have a go then.
- So, the white bits are the tripe?
- Cooked in milk with onions, isn't it?
- (Kathleen) That's right.
- Now I'll go for this.
(Dermot) The drisheen.
That's the real taste of Cork now.
Mmm...
it's quite mild, actually, isn't it?
It's quite mild.
Now you're longing for some,
aren't you, Dermot?
- Yeah, can't wait!
- (both laugh)
(Carmichael) Thank you so much for that.
After a true taste of Victorian Ireland,
I'm full of energy
for the last leg of my journey.
I'm taking a short hop
down to the coast,
to the harbour that brought Cork
its wealth.
This beautiful waterside railway
is leading me towards Cobh
and my Bradshaw's says,
"The noble harbour,
surrounded by hills on all sides,
is five miles long,
having room and water enough
for hundreds of vessels of any size."
And I have a feeling that a port
of such dimensions
must have played a substantial part
in Irish history.
My guidebook refers to Cobh
as Queenstown,
so named
in honour of a royal visit in 1849.
The harbour that Victoria and Albert saw
was thronged with vessels,
from battleships
to pleasure craft.
"Cobh," my Bradshaw's tells me,
"is situated on a steep terrace
on Great Island, with its yacht club
and pretty bathing rooms."
Yacht club? That sounds both historic
and exclusive. I shall investigate.
This small seaside town has
played a big role in maritime history.
I'm meeting Eddie English, who hails
from a long line of Cobh sailors.
- Eddie, hello.
- Cead mile fáilte!
Thank you so much,
it's very nice to be welcomed here.
I'm interested in your yacht club
because my Bradshaw's mentions it.
Very historic, is it?
This is the oldest yacht club
in the world, the Royal Cork Yacht Club.
Founded in the early 18th century,
the club claims to be
the oldest still going today
and has its current headquarters
in nearby Crosshaven.
But in Victorian times
it was based here in Cobh
and in 1854 its members moved
into this grand Italianate clubhouse.
That is a very fine building
for a yacht club,
so I'm beginning to think that yachting
is not just about being on a boat,
there's also a social side.
The social life was very important,
but, more so than other clubs,
the Royal Cork Yacht Club was always
a sailing club and they went sailing.
You had big, huge yachts racing here.
They'd go off out the harbour, way off,
a 50-mile course, come back,
finish here, celebrations here,
and in the big houses around the town.
I get the impression that Cobh
absolutely bristles with history.
- May we take a tour and find out more?
- We certainly can. Step this way.
Eddies letting me take the helm as we
explore this lovely stretch of water.
Just put it back in the middle.
That's it. We're pushing that way.
As we" as being Kong,
the harbour is also deep enough
for even the biggest vessels,
including some which pushed
the boundaries of Victorian technology.
My Bradshaw's tells me that,
"The Sirius, under Captain Roberts,
was the second steamer
to cross the Atlantic,
leaving Cobh on 1 June 1838
and taking 17 days to reach New York."
Yeah, well, she crossed the Atlantic,
and as you mentioned Captain Roberts,
I met his great, great, great grandson
today, who's a friend of mine,
and they're very proud
of their heritage.
And, in fact,
she crossed the Atlantic twice.
She was chartered from
the City of Cork Steam Packet Company
and was the first passenger vessel
to cross the Atlantic under steam.
Very soon, steamships like the Sirius
were to carry
unprecedented numbers of passengers,
seeking to escape to a new We.
Now, following the great
Irish Hunger of 1848,
millions emigrated,
and Cobh was one of the main places
they left from, wasn't it?
(Eddie) It certainly was.
Cobh was very well connected,
especially when the railways came.
It was connected with the railways
in 1862
and from then on people just poured
into Cobh from all corners of Ireland
and indeed from England, because they
could get the mail packet across
and then get the train down to Cobh.
Huge numbers went from Cobh
to several different destinations
on the east coast of the States
and also in Canada.
It's a very poignant thought,
to think of those people so desperate
and yet also so full of hope.
Right up until the 1950s,
Cobh was this island's most important
emigration port,
and it also played a role
in two of maritime history's
most terrible disasters.
What's the connection with the Titanic?
Well, Cobh, was a major port of call
for the transatlantic liners
and then the Titanic, a major occasion,
came here,
her last port of call before the
unfortunate disaster with the iceberg.
A couple of years later,
the terrible tragedy
of the sinking of the Lusitania.
It was due here into Cobh,
a regular caller and a much-loved ship
- and huge connections with Cobh.
- Sunk by a German U-boat.
That's correct. Just 20 miles from here.
The advent of air travel spelled the end
of the great ocean liners,
but Cobh hasn't entirely lost
its link with adventure oh the sea.
The railway's still there and I think
it's a much happier operation now,
because it's the people,
the holidaymakers on cruise liners,
they get off the ships and they get
on the railway and they go up to Cork.
So, the connection is still there.
Ifs good to know that Victorian tracks
provide continuity
with this region's past.
But, thankfully,
some things have changed for the better.
Queen Victoria was awed
by the beauty of the lakes
and mountains of southern Ireland.
But just a short time
after her last visit here,
this country fought for and won
its independence.
When I was in politics,
the idea that Queen Elizabeth ll
might make an official visit
to the Republic of Ireland
would have seemed like fantasy.
But the beauty of time passing is
that it makes the impossible possible.
On my next journey, I'll learn
the ancient an of butter making...
It's exquisite, Eamon.
It's a taste of the Irish rain.
Thank you very, very, very much.
I'll tackle the basics
of Ireland's oldest game...
So what's the first thing I should
learn? To bounce it on my Hurley?
Oops!
And I'll ride the Duke of Devonshire's
Victorian Irish Railway.
In case the Duke of Devonshire
is watching,
I want to thank your ancestor, sir,
for giving us this lovely railway.
in Britain and Ireland.
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 islands
to see what of Bradshaw's world remains.
In pursuit of my railway journeys,
I've once more crossed the Irish Sea.
When my Bradshaw's Descriptive Railway
Handbook of Great Britain and Ireland
was published in the 1860s,
Britain and Ireland were a single state
under the reign of Queen Victoria.
My journey will take me
from the rugged beauty of County Kerry,
across Ireland's rural Midlands and
deposit me on the west coast at Galway.
On today's journey, I'll be sampling
this region's Victorian delicacies...
I will be able to taste butter
that has been absorbed
- through the shell of this egg.
- (man) You certainly will.
Mmm! I certainly do!
Exploring a stunning landscape
shot to fame by rails and royals...
If it's good for the royal family,
it's good for everyone.
And risking life and limb
for the gift of the gab.
- You have got to be kidding.
- Just a little now. More.
Here goes then.
I look forward to being eloquent.
Using my “Bradshaws Guide”,
I'm on tracks which opened up
the rich resources of the southern pan
of the island of Ireland
to tourists and trade.
I'll then travel north to discover
the isle's Victorian heart
before turning west to finish
in picturesque Galway.
Today's stretch begins
in Killarney's National Park,
then takes me east through Mallow
and on to Cork and the coast.
My first stop is one of this
verdant island's renowned beauty spots.
With delightful Victorian pomposity,
my Bradshaw's says,
"To the majority of men who rush from
smoky London and the cares of business
to feast their eyes upon the beauty
and to inhale the fresh air
of the fields, lakes and mountains,
we recommend a trip to Ireland
and the lovely lakes of Killarney."
Really, my Bradshaw's rarely bestowed
such praise as on this place.
The countryside around Killarney is
famous for scenic lakes and mountains.
And my guidebook is lyrical about
its silvem beauty and wild grandeur.
"Bradshaw's" is definitive about
where the railway tourist should begin.
“Whether his stay is Kong or short,
the first excursion he should make
is to the far-famed Gap of Dunloe."
I'm heading straight there
to meet guide Mike O'Connor.
- Hello, Mike.
- Hello, Michael.
- You're welcome to the Gap of Dunloe.
- What is the Gap?
The Gap of Dunloe is a glacial breach.
The ice,
moving in a north-easterly direction,
gouged out this wonderful valley
for all of us to enjoy today.
It is a fantastic sight.
Bradshaw's has five pages on Killarney.
Says, "The usual mode of proceeding
is to hire a car or pony
and ride halfway through the pass."
"By this journey you will be able to see
all the most celebrated
and remarkable portions of the scenery,
and to learn from the civil,
well-informed and garrulous guides."
- I'm hoping that might be you, Mike.
- Thank you. I hope it will.
Amazingly, I can still tour the Gap
in a traditional horse and trap.
- Hello!
- Just as Water/ans would have.
- Alright to jump aboard?
- Get on board.
Thank you.
Until the mid 19th century,
this landscape was a well-kept secret,
enjoyed by the locals and landed elite.
But that was soon to change.
1853, the coming of the railway,
it opened up Killarney.
Some say it was like a continental
airport opening, brought people in.
But I would say it was like
the information superhighway opening.
The mail could get out, the telegraph
lines were run along the railway tracks
and communications with the outside
world. That all helped in no small way.
The rails brought visitors
to explore this remote region,
but it was a certain VIP
who really brought fame to Killarney.
It's very clear that Killarney today
attracts a lot of tourists.
That actually has a lot to do
with Queen Victoria herself, doesn't it?
Yes, Queen Vic came in August 1861
and spent three nights in Killarney,
and, of course, all the newspapers
of the day sent over
their best illustrators
and their writers.
Some of the sketches that went back
were definitely a big influence
in the people travelling
to where royalty travelled.
If it was good enough
for the royal family,
it was good enough for everyone.
Queen Victoria's visit helped
to put Killarney on the map.
But I don't suppose that she risked
her dignity as I'm about to.
It says here, "The guides, being
generally provided with a bugle,
produce notes which are echoed back
again by the Carrantual on one side
and the purple mountains on the other."
And I can't help noticing
that you've brought a bugle.
- Shall we give it a go?
- Yes, we will.
Unfortunately, today's guides
aren't practised buglers,
so testing the echo falls to me.
(splutters)
(faint bugle sound)
(spluttering)
(bugle sounds)
(bugle echoes)
That was not so bad.
Even my bugling can't spoil
Killarney's National Park.
We 100 square kilometres of mountains,
woodland and the famous lakes
which my guidebook ranks amongst
the finest in the British isles.
It says, “Lochs Lomond, Katrine
and Windermere, beautiful as they are,
do not possess the various attractions
of these small but most lovely lakes."
- Hello.
- Morning, Michael.
- Morning, Dermot.
- Thank you very much indeed.
Back in 1861,
a highlight of Queen Victoria's visit
was a stately cruise
on these peaceful waters.
Quite a lot of spectators
took to the water, too.
(Mike) There are reports at the time
of about up to 800 boats,
but I think that is a lot of boats,
actually, given the size of our lakes,
but there were quite a lot of people
who came out and just rode around.
The state barge was the biggest boat
that was on this lake itself
and it was very elaborate.
So, Killarney witnessed, in 1861,
something of a royal regatta.
Absolutely.
One could say that definitely.
While touring the lakes,
“Bradshaws” instructs me to look out
for the arbutus tree, saying,
"Nowhere is it found in such rich
luxuriance as at Killarney."
This rare shrub usually grows
only in Spain or Portugal,
but flourishes here
thanks to the Gulf Stream.
In the 19th century, Killarney craftsmen
discovered its fine-grained wood
was perfect for creating
intricate inlaid furniture.
We come to nearby Muckross House
to view its exquisite collection
with guide Anne Tangney.
- Anne.
- Hello.
- Hello.
- Welcome.
Thank you. I've been reading about,
and indeed seeing, arbutus trees
and this table is an arbutus?
(Anne) These were made from arbutus
and yew wood.
It was a thriving industry
in Killarney in the 1850s.
And there were about six families
involved in it.
And they employed 40 to 50 people.
And the lovely features of this
are the scenes of Killarney.
- See here, Muckross Abbey?
- Yes.
The Old Weir Bridge, which I believe
you passed today on your travels.
And again, another featured image,
always put on their pieces,
is the actual arbutus tree itself.
So if you can see,
look at the fruit of it here.
- (Carmichael) How lovely.
- Lovely.
These days,
Muckross is open to the public,
but in the 19th century
it was the home of the local MP.
In 1861, the royal party
came to stay here
and a special piece of furniture
was sculpted for the Queen's suite.
So, did Queen Victoria
stay in these rooms?
Yes, these three rooms were given over
for her complete stay.
This was her boudoir,
her private sitting room.
Is this piece the gift she was given?
(Anne) This is the piece that three
craftsmen worked on for many months.
How fabulous.
What a perfect gift for a queen.
A beautiful piece. We're delighted
to still have it here in the house.
I'm now leaving this beautiful landscape
to continue my journey.
I shall long remember Killarney,
which even on a wet day
is mournfully magnificent.
I'm travelling east, along the line
which opened up this region
to commerce and visitors
in the 1850s.
My guidebook has brought me
into County Cork
and I'll soon be arriving
at the town of Mallow,
which is known as
the crossroads of Munster,
because this railway line
from west to east
is intersected by another
travelling north to south.
Munster is one of Ireland's
four historic provinces.
With the arrival of the rails
came day-trippers and holidaymakers,
hungry for heritage.
I'm leaving the train at Mallow
to explore an imposing fortification,
irresistible to readers
of my "Bradshaw's Guide".
The magnificent,
15th-century Blarney Castle.
Its picturesque ruins chimed
with the ideals of romanticism,
which was popular at the turn
of the 19th century.
And in 1887, a special railway line was
built to bring visitors to its gates.
They made a beeline for the tower,
to seek the famous Blarney Stone,
of which my guidebook writes,
"To kiss it, the traveller
must be lowered 20ft."
"When having kissed it,
nobody can refuse you anything."
Can it really be that you have to be
lowered 20ft to kiss the stone?
Time Will tell.
Victorian romantics were entranced
by the stories which abound
regarding this famous stone.
Some believe it was the pillow
of a Gaelic saint,
others that ifs a sacred rock
brought to Ireland
from Jerusalem during the Crusades.
Whatever the truth, kissing it
is supposed to make you persuasive.
Dennis Cronin helps tourists to get
their lips in position.
- Hello. Would you be Dennis?
- I would indeed, Michael.
- Well, I've come about this stone.
- Yes.
- What will it do for me?
- It will give you the gift of the gab.
I'm very short of that.
The origins of the ritual are lost,
but by the 19th century,
it was an established tradition.
Thankfully, my guidebooks description
of a 20ft drop is exaggerated.
But even so, kissing the stone requires
more dexterity than your average snog.
- What's the method here?
- We'll show you very easily.
Be seated with your back to the wall,
my good friend.
Back to the wall, eh'?
Well, I'm used to that, alright.
Come to me. Raise your hands, left
and right, please, and hold the bars.
- Drift this way a little. Head back.
- You have got to be kidding.
- Just a little now. More.
- OK, here goes then.
I look forward to being eloquent.
(kisses)
- Very good. Back up to me.
- Oh, that's the difficult bit.
Oh, Dennis.
I suddenly feel as though I could
speak very eloquently in many tongues.
- And you've enjoyed.
- What a wonderful way to end the day.
- Thanks.
- Bye, friend.
Since the mid 19th century,
the Blarney estate has been owned
by the Colthurst family who built the
impressive Blarney House in the grounds.
- Charles.
- Michael.
- How good of you to have me to stay.
- You're very, very welcome.
What a lovely, lovely house.
Constructed in the Scottish
baronial style in the 1870s,
the house has recently been restored
to full Victorian grandeur.
Although it's open to the public,
it's a rare privilege to sleep here.
Here we are, we're coming into
the North Room,
which will be your bedroom
for the night.
Turret with a bath,
and then out the north window
we have a very good view
of the castle to the north
and that will be floodlit
later on tonight.
A turret with a bath
and a room with a view of a castle.
I shall sleep very well, Charles.
Thank you so much.
You're most welcome
and I hope you do.
After a restful night
in the shadow of Blarney Castle,
I'm retracing my steps
to Mallow Station.
- Which platform for Cork?
- This side, sir. Just here beside us.
- Thank you. Bye.
- Bye.
My next train will carry me south
towards the capital
of this beautiful region.
I'm following the Great Southern
and Western Railway,
begun in the 1840s
to link the fertile south to Dublin.
The train from Mallow rolls through
beautiful green countryside,
so typical of Ireland,
but my Bradshaw's promises me
a contrast when we arrive in Cork
"A city port and capital of County Cork,
and Munster province on the River Lee."
"The rail reaches the town
by a tunnel half a mile long."
I believe the tunnel is still there,
and from what I remember,
the city bears the marks
of its splendid maritime heritage.
The building of the tunnel
was led by William Dargan,
father of the Irish railways,
and Sir John Macneill.
It took seven years to construct
at the cost of several lives.
It was finally completed in 1855,
ready to carry passengers
and freight from the city of Cork.
The end of the half-mile tunnel
tells us that we have arrived at Cork,
at the station known as Kent.
The current station opened in 1893,
but was renamed in 1966
to commemorate nationalist rebel
Thomas Kent,
executed by the British
after the 1916 Rising.
At that time, the city was a stronghold
of anti-British sentiment,
but in the 1800s it was a loyal city
that had strong links with the Empire,
forged through trade.
Cork today bustles with tourists,
but my Bradshaw's Guide notes,
"There's a large export trade
to the value of £3 million
in grain, cattle, whiskey, provisions
and especially country butter."
And that flow of comestibles
laid the ground
for the development of retail markets
to supply the local people
with delicious products
from this fertile land.
The best place to sample
the finest Cork produce
is the English Market
in the heart of the city.
Local historian Dermot O'Driscoll
knows its rich history.
- Dermot!
- How lovely to see you.
- Good to meet you.
- What a beautiful market.
- Amazing, isn't it?
- We're really proud of it.
- Well, you should be. How old is it?
This market was opened in 1788,
so it's 220, 225 years old now.
(Carmichael) The architecture
I'm looking at,
that maybe is not quite as old as that.
This section of the market
was rebuilt in 1862.
Which is about the time
Queen Victoria visited Ireland
and the time of my Bradshaw's Guide.
Around the time the market was founded,
the rulers of the expanding empire
were utilising Corks local bounty
to the full.
The hinterland of Cork, very rich,
great for grain growing,
excellent for beef growing,
which led to a huge trade
in beef for provisioning ships,
your former colonies in the east coast
of America and the Caribbean.
Cork butter had
an international reputation
from the middle of the 18th century
and that was exported around the world.
Initially, Cork produce
was exported by boat.
But the advent of rail transport
gave the city an extra edge.
Many of those things
in the middle of the 19th century,
they could be picked up
from their point of origin by train,
brought here to Cork
and then sent on by sea.
From about the 1850s onwards,
there were six different rail lines
radiating out of the city.
The main one up to Dublin
and then others to west and east Cork.
As the decades went on through
the 1850s, '60s and so on,
they made connections, especially with
the seaports on the west Cork coast.
The English Market is so called
because its founders,
the City Corporation, were Protestant
Conservatives loyal to the Crown.
The name fell out of favour
in the 20th century,
when the island of Ireland
was riven by Troubles.
But in recent decades,
tensions have eased,
and the name has gained currency again.
In 2011, the market even welcomed
the Queen on an official visit.
You've lived through
troubled periods, as I have.
Were you not astonished
by the idea that the British Queen
would visit the Republic of Ireland?
Did you see that coming?
Attitudes have changed on all sides.
People understand the past better.
We are all more open now
and maybe more forgiving
and it's better to look forward
than to look back all the time.
The modern market offers
some local specialities,
born out of necessity
in the days before refrigeration.
I'm keen to try so-called battleboard,
dried salt fish that got its name
from its plank-like appearance.
Now, Michael,
here's some of the battleboard,
and an old battleboard here,
Pat O'Connell, who's the fishmonger.
- (all laugh)
- Pat, very good to see you.
Hello, Michael.
Very pleased to meet you.
- (Dermot) This is the stock fish.
- It looks incredibly salty.
It is incredibly salty,
but it tastes really, really good.
The secret is
that you soak it overnight.
If you take it like this, you're going
to end up an alcoholic in a short time!
- May I try some, please?
- Come over here and we'll have a try.
I'll give you a little taste.
Well, I must say, it looks a great deal
better now than it does over there.
- Doesn't it a little bit?
- Spot the difference!
- You're going to do Mother, are you?
- (Pat) I'll do Mother, yeah.
Now this is the old traditional way,
where you soak it overnight...
boil it up,
change the water the next morning...
(Carmichael) Yes.
And then you boil it up with some
onion and some good Irish potatoes.
Very important.
- That's good.
- Powerfully salty still, isn't it'?
- But it is lovely.
- (Pat) That is the nature of it.
Thank you very much
and your very good health, sir.
- Sláinte!
- That's what I meant to say!
Salting fish is one way in which locals
preserved food in Victorian times.
Thrifty farmers' wives had a clever
method for keeping eggs fresh.
Michael, this is Gerry Moynihan, and
we're here to sample some buttered eggs.
Welcome to our market, Michael.
Thank you. Buttered eggs, that does
sound intriguing. May I try one, please?
Sure, we'll give you this nice fresh one
here, nice and freshly boiled.
So, what is a buttered egg?
Has it got butter inside it?
Well, no, it's not butter inside it,
but the shell is covered with butter
and it's done when the egg
is very, very fresh.
The old theory was that
the egg should be taken
before the hen missed the egg, as such.
It's coated with butter,
it seals the shell of the egg
and it preserves the egg
at that level of freshness.
I will be able to taste butter,
absorbed through the shell of this egg.
- You certainly will indeed, Michael.
- Mmm! I certainly do.
- Very nice.
- Now this one may catch on.
(laughs)
In the 19th century, with the prime cuts
of Cork beef and pork
being reserved for export
and affluent customers,
the less well-off locals had to get
creative with what was left.
- This is Kathleen here, at O'Reillys.
- Hello, Kathleen. Very nice to see you.
(Dermot) Makers and sellers
of drisheen and tripe.
- Kathleen, what is drisheen?
- It's a pure blood pudding.
It's just the blood from the cow
or the sheep.
What do you serve it with?
We serve it with the tripe
and you can have some potato with it
or some bread, but we just serve it
with the tripe here.
Well, let me have a go then.
- So, the white bits are the tripe?
- Cooked in milk with onions, isn't it?
- (Kathleen) That's right.
- Now I'll go for this.
(Dermot) The drisheen.
That's the real taste of Cork now.
Mmm...
it's quite mild, actually, isn't it?
It's quite mild.
Now you're longing for some,
aren't you, Dermot?
- Yeah, can't wait!
- (both laugh)
(Carmichael) Thank you so much for that.
After a true taste of Victorian Ireland,
I'm full of energy
for the last leg of my journey.
I'm taking a short hop
down to the coast,
to the harbour that brought Cork
its wealth.
This beautiful waterside railway
is leading me towards Cobh
and my Bradshaw's says,
"The noble harbour,
surrounded by hills on all sides,
is five miles long,
having room and water enough
for hundreds of vessels of any size."
And I have a feeling that a port
of such dimensions
must have played a substantial part
in Irish history.
My guidebook refers to Cobh
as Queenstown,
so named
in honour of a royal visit in 1849.
The harbour that Victoria and Albert saw
was thronged with vessels,
from battleships
to pleasure craft.
"Cobh," my Bradshaw's tells me,
"is situated on a steep terrace
on Great Island, with its yacht club
and pretty bathing rooms."
Yacht club? That sounds both historic
and exclusive. I shall investigate.
This small seaside town has
played a big role in maritime history.
I'm meeting Eddie English, who hails
from a long line of Cobh sailors.
- Eddie, hello.
- Cead mile fáilte!
Thank you so much,
it's very nice to be welcomed here.
I'm interested in your yacht club
because my Bradshaw's mentions it.
Very historic, is it?
This is the oldest yacht club
in the world, the Royal Cork Yacht Club.
Founded in the early 18th century,
the club claims to be
the oldest still going today
and has its current headquarters
in nearby Crosshaven.
But in Victorian times
it was based here in Cobh
and in 1854 its members moved
into this grand Italianate clubhouse.
That is a very fine building
for a yacht club,
so I'm beginning to think that yachting
is not just about being on a boat,
there's also a social side.
The social life was very important,
but, more so than other clubs,
the Royal Cork Yacht Club was always
a sailing club and they went sailing.
You had big, huge yachts racing here.
They'd go off out the harbour, way off,
a 50-mile course, come back,
finish here, celebrations here,
and in the big houses around the town.
I get the impression that Cobh
absolutely bristles with history.
- May we take a tour and find out more?
- We certainly can. Step this way.
Eddies letting me take the helm as we
explore this lovely stretch of water.
Just put it back in the middle.
That's it. We're pushing that way.
As we" as being Kong,
the harbour is also deep enough
for even the biggest vessels,
including some which pushed
the boundaries of Victorian technology.
My Bradshaw's tells me that,
"The Sirius, under Captain Roberts,
was the second steamer
to cross the Atlantic,
leaving Cobh on 1 June 1838
and taking 17 days to reach New York."
Yeah, well, she crossed the Atlantic,
and as you mentioned Captain Roberts,
I met his great, great, great grandson
today, who's a friend of mine,
and they're very proud
of their heritage.
And, in fact,
she crossed the Atlantic twice.
She was chartered from
the City of Cork Steam Packet Company
and was the first passenger vessel
to cross the Atlantic under steam.
Very soon, steamships like the Sirius
were to carry
unprecedented numbers of passengers,
seeking to escape to a new We.
Now, following the great
Irish Hunger of 1848,
millions emigrated,
and Cobh was one of the main places
they left from, wasn't it?
(Eddie) It certainly was.
Cobh was very well connected,
especially when the railways came.
It was connected with the railways
in 1862
and from then on people just poured
into Cobh from all corners of Ireland
and indeed from England, because they
could get the mail packet across
and then get the train down to Cobh.
Huge numbers went from Cobh
to several different destinations
on the east coast of the States
and also in Canada.
It's a very poignant thought,
to think of those people so desperate
and yet also so full of hope.
Right up until the 1950s,
Cobh was this island's most important
emigration port,
and it also played a role
in two of maritime history's
most terrible disasters.
What's the connection with the Titanic?
Well, Cobh, was a major port of call
for the transatlantic liners
and then the Titanic, a major occasion,
came here,
her last port of call before the
unfortunate disaster with the iceberg.
A couple of years later,
the terrible tragedy
of the sinking of the Lusitania.
It was due here into Cobh,
a regular caller and a much-loved ship
- and huge connections with Cobh.
- Sunk by a German U-boat.
That's correct. Just 20 miles from here.
The advent of air travel spelled the end
of the great ocean liners,
but Cobh hasn't entirely lost
its link with adventure oh the sea.
The railway's still there and I think
it's a much happier operation now,
because it's the people,
the holidaymakers on cruise liners,
they get off the ships and they get
on the railway and they go up to Cork.
So, the connection is still there.
Ifs good to know that Victorian tracks
provide continuity
with this region's past.
But, thankfully,
some things have changed for the better.
Queen Victoria was awed
by the beauty of the lakes
and mountains of southern Ireland.
But just a short time
after her last visit here,
this country fought for and won
its independence.
When I was in politics,
the idea that Queen Elizabeth ll
might make an official visit
to the Republic of Ireland
would have seemed like fantasy.
But the beauty of time passing is
that it makes the impossible possible.
On my next journey, I'll learn
the ancient an of butter making...
It's exquisite, Eamon.
It's a taste of the Irish rain.
Thank you very, very, very much.
I'll tackle the basics
of Ireland's oldest game...
So what's the first thing I should
learn? To bounce it on my Hurley?
Oops!
And I'll ride the Duke of Devonshire's
Victorian Irish Railway.
In case the Duke of Devonshire
is watching,
I want to thank your ancestor, sir,
for giving us this lovely railway.