Great British Railway Journeys (2010–…): Season 6, Episode 18 - Abergavenny to Hanborough - full transcript
[OPENING THEME MUSIC]
For Victorian Britons, George Bradshaw
was a household name.
At a time when railways
were new...
Bradshaw's guidebook inspired
them to take to the tracks.
I'm using a Bradshaw's guide to understand
how trains transformed Britain.
Its landscape...
its industry, society...
and leisure time.
As I arias-cross the country a hundred
and fifty years later...
it helps me to discover
the Britain of today.
I'm now halfway through a journey
that spans Wales and England.
The fabulous Wealth of Victorian Britain was
founded on steam - and that meant coal.
Today I'd like to study the conditions of
those who hewed it from the earth...
in darkness, and of those whose life
was lit by chandeliers.
I'm travelling from
pit to palace.
This journey takes me
across Britain...
from west to east.
From the industrial powerhouse of
South Wales to the Welsh borders...
and the fertile lowlands
of Herefordshire.
I'm seeing how the railways left
no aspect of the country unchanged.
I'll finish in the historic university
city of Cambridge.
This leg will take me below
ground at Abergavenny...
east to Moreton-in-Marsh, and on to
rebellious turf in Ascott-under-Wychwood...
ending in the Oxfordshire
village of Hanborough.
Today, my heart is in my mouth
as I go down a mine.
We're 300 feet below the surface
and it's a strange feeling, isn't it?
It is, yeah.
I'm taught the art of ploughing
in Oxfordshire.
You happy there? Are you
a relaxed man?
Good - I'm very relaxed
about this.
Not quite so tight on
the furrow... that's it.
- Perfect row, that.
- Perfect.
And at Blenheim Palace, I'm offered
a glimpse of some very racy art.
Ooh la la! There's a lot of
flesh on display.
They were perhaps a little too
risque for the ladies to see.
My first stop today will
be Abergavenny...
which, according to Bradshaw's, "stands
amongst the Monmouthshire hills."
"its present prosperity derives from
valuable coal, likely to be"...
"much increased by the Newport,
Abergavenny and Hereford railway"...
on which I am now
travelling.
It's time to descend...
to the bowels of
the Earth.
In the shadow of the Black Mountains
sits the historic town of Abergavenny...
gateway to Wales.
At the time of my guidebook, it was known
for its eleventh-century castle...
and also for its
psychiatric hospital.
The phrase “gone to Abergavenny” was
used locally as a metaphor for going insane.
But the focus of my visit today is
the Blaenavon Big Pit Mine...
where Victorian men, and children,
once toiled night and day...
to power the
Industrial Revolution.
Opened in 1860, it was connected
to the railways six years later.
Today it's a national museum set
in a World Heritage Site.
I'll descend into the black world
of Victorian coal mining.
You press this button.
- On the right...
- Yes?
Brings your light
on - okay?
Thankfully, experienced miner
Paul Green is to accompany me.
- Morning, and thank you.
- Morning.
Thank you.
Do you remember your
first time in the cage?
Yeah. I was a young fifteen-year-old.
I left school at fifteen...
“started with the NOB
in those days.
And when you did your training, they took you
to different mines to have a look, like.
I jumps in the cage, and it Wasn't lovely
and quiet like We've just been taken away.
It was a sudden jolt.
- Were you afraid?
- Not afraid...
"apprehensive" for Want
of a better word.
And as this instructor took us around the
roadways of this particular mine...
there was a guy coming out pulling
a horse along behind him!
Leading a horse! And I thought, "I've
only ever seen one of them in a field!"
[LAUGHTER]
I couldn't believe it!
You must be older than I think!
[PAUL LAUGHS]
A little bit younger
than yourself!
We're 300 feet below the surface and
it's a strange feeling, isn't it?
It is, yeah.
- Morning.
- Good morning to you.
Morning, Pete.
- Just watch your under-feet, Michael.
- Yeah.
Feet and head.
Feet and head -
you got it.
Close the door behind
you, Michael.
- Close this door behind me?
- Yeah.
- So these doors are pretty important?
- Yes, Michael, they're...
ventilation doors. They direct the
air around the roadways of the mine...
where we want it to go.
So We've got a series of doors here.
If we left these doors open...
the air will short-circuit - come down
the shaft that we came down...
straight through this roadway,
up the up-car shaft...
and starve other areas
of the mine of air.
In Victorian times, children as young
as six worked on these doors.
They'd sit by the door and when they
heard the horse and haulier coming along...
they'd get up, open the door...
and close the door behind them. But in those
days they didn't have lights like we have today...
so the child would
have a candle.
What do you think's gonna happen with
that candle because of the air movement?
- It's going to blow out.
- So the child is going to be in the dark.
And so the next haulier comes along
with his horse, and dram of coal...
and would relight the child's candle -
and that's how it used to work.
Watch your head as we
come through.
In 1838, an accident at a colliery
near Barnsley in Yorkshire...
brought the plight of children working
in the mines to public attention.
The disaster led to public outcry,
and a Royal Commission was ordered.
The outcome was an Act of
Parliament in 1842...
that banned Women and children under
ten from working underground.
Right, Michael... this is Where we
enter the stables here at Big Pit.
These are the names of the
ponies, are they?
Yes, the names of the ponies
that actually worked here.
Now, the ponies were well
looked after, mind.
They would come under ground aged four.
You'd have a guy in charge of them...
called a haulier or hostler.
And his duty was to work...
with that horse. Now, then, if this horse
was got injured for any reason...
this mine owner would Want
to know why.
If it was found that it was the haulier's
fault, he would have the sack...
“family kicked out
of the cottage.
You can always get another haulier;
you had to buy another pony.
The ponies were the
more valuable.
Ponies were more valuable
in those days - yeah.
Paul is taking me deeper into the mine
to see What life was like at the coal face.
- What is this chamber?
- This is What we call a "stall'
Now, you'd have man and boy
working together; father and son.
So they'd pick the coal off, using your
mandrels and your tools.
And then it would be the boy's job
to fill the dram of coal.
The miner would only get paid
for the amount of drams he filled...
but only coal. When they were
putting the supports in there...
and building the cogs up, as we call them,
pulling the timber supports up...
they didn't get paid for; only for
the drams that were going out.
So, yes - hard times.
You've been telling me about the
appalling conditions, and of course...
they got better during the Victorian period,
and much better during the 20th century.
But, even so, mining always continued to be
potentially dangerous, and very bad for health.
So why was there such a feeling of community,
such a sense of loyalty, around coal mining?
Mining brought
the community together.
You knew everyone in the village; the
man worked in the pit with you.
In my day, and the Victorian day,
it was a Way of life.
Every village had
a coal mine.
The history of coal mining is the
Victorian age in a nutshell.
Brilliant engineering to
win the coal.
The exploitation of labour by
the coal-mine owners.
Then, waves of legislation and reform, as
Victorians developed a social conscience.
In the 20th century, the coal miners
became the aristocracy of labour...
with the enormous sense of
pride and solidarity...
as I well remember from my
political career.
Before I leave Wales,
there's one last highlight...
to explore, before I seek the
shelter of a railway carriage.
Here the picturesque River Usk winds
through verdant countryside...
towards the Bristol Channel.
“The scenery of the River Usk”,
says Bradshaw's...
"from Abergavenny to Brecon,
is very romantic"...
"as it winds around the Black Mountains.
Excellent trout fishing.“
I'm in the cast of mind to
find out more.
Fly fishing for trout can be
traced back to the Romans.
But advances made by the Victorians
shaped the sport that we enjoy today.
Keen fisherman Simon Evans
has offered to show me why.
Good to see you.
Was trout fishing quite popular
with the Victorians?
Very. There was a whole sort of
culture that built up...
with hotels scattered up and down
the length of the river.
They would catch the railway, there were
stop-offs at regular intervals.
There used to be a fishing hotel that was
associated with most of the stations.
That hotel then had a little
bit of fishing on the Usk.
And it's always been very
popular for that.
And even up to this day it's still very
popular for that type of thing.
Trout thrive in clear, spring-fed rivers,
Where there are plenty of flies.
The fish reputedly have a
brain the size of a pea...
so the fisherman can't feel
too happy when outwitted.
I'm trying to here use some fairly
authentic tackle of that sort of age.
But it's interesting, compared to the
carbon-fibre rods that We're using now.
- So that's made out of What?
- That's made out of cane.
But in the times of the Victorian most
people were using things...
made out of bamboo
and greenheart.
- Did the Victorians have reels?
- They did.
In the Victorian times, most of the reels
were made out of Wood.
This is a Hardy reel from
about 1920, 1930.
But it would've been similar
to a Victorian one?
It would've been almost
identical to a Victorian one.
- What did they use for lines?
- Well, they had silk lines.
Now we use nylon lines. But they
used to have silk thread...
that used to be plaited
and tapered.
But probably the biggest change
has been in What we use...
to connect the line
to the fly.
In those days it was just horses' hair
- from the tail of a horse.
I suppose it was effective - I mean,
they caught fish, didn't they?
They caught plenty
of fish!
How did techniques develop
in the Victorian period?
To begin with, it was just dapping,
so you had a pole and line...
and a fly on the end, and you clapped it
on the surface until trout said "hello".
Then casting came in, with the revolutions
in rods that happens.
And then that gave you the option
of either fishing a wet fly...
which is fishing below
the surface...
trying to imitate a small fish or
something of that ilk.
Or a dry fly, which is imitating
an emerging insect.
Fully briefed on Victorian technique and
strategy, I'm ready to cast my first line.
The rod is effectively like a spring,
so hold the line in your left hand...
Then pick the rod up and try and
cast the line behind you.
And then put it back out again...
Without catching the vegetation!
So as it comes up you're stopping
it on the top of your shoulder...
then letting the line extend backwards
and then it goes back out again.
- Try it one more time.
- Ah.
I'm not immediately getting
the hang of this.
But What is the great attraction,
to you, of angling?
It's just you and the fish.
There's nothing else. It doesn't matter What
else is going on in the world...
whether it's raining, whether you've
got problems at home, or whatever.
It's just you and the fish for
that magic moment.
And that's a precious thing,
in this day and age.
I must return to the line of duty,
and resume my journey.
I'll leave Simon to concentrate
on his catch.
[MUFFLED TRAIN ANNOUNCEMENT]
From Abergavenny, I'm crossing
the border into England...
to the city of Hereford, Where
I'll change trains to travel on east...
to my overnight stop
in the Cotswolds.
My next stop will be What Bradshaw's describes
as "a small town on the old Fosse Way."
It must have some claim to
be at the heart of England...
since, apparently, close
by there's "a four-mile stone"...
"where Oxfordshire, Gloucester,
Worcester and Warwickshire unite."
I can think of no better place to
end this rain-sodden, soggy day...
than Moreton-in-Marsh.
My Bradshaw's recommends this
converted 17th-century coaching inn.
Ideal for the weary traveller.
Before I turn in for the night...
local historian Michael Rees
is joining me for a drink.
I think you might be interested
in the Curfew Tower...
which is opposite this hotel.
Curious name.
Yes, it was called the
"Curfew Tower"...
because a curfew was rung at night
and morning here until the 1860s.
Apparently, the bell in the tower
was rung every night...
to remind the townsfolk of the
risk of fire in their homes.
But it also had other uses.
The story is Sir Robert Fry...
was travelling from London to
Moreton-in-Marsh...
and he got lost in the fog
on Moreton Common.
But, he heard the bell - and it
guided him to his destination, here.
He arrived safely.
And he was so grateful that he made
an endowment of twenty shillings...
for the upkeep of the clock, and ten
shillings for the ringing of the bell.
Well, I think you and I have time, before
the curfew, to have a little drink.
Thank you, Michael.
Another day, and I'm ready to
move on east...
deep into rural Oxfordshire.
Wychwood Forest,
says my Bradshaw's...
“is a fine wooded track of
sylvan beauty”.
And I shall be leaving this train at
Ascott-under-Wychwood.
Of the Oxfordshire countryside,
it says...
“much butter and cheese are made,
and calves are reared and fed"...
"for London markets."
But amidst the placidity of the
cows and the sheep...
trouble was brewing in
the countryside.
During the 1870s, an
agricultural depression...
greatly unsettled Ascott-under-Wychwood's
rural community...
and gave rise to a group known
as the Ascott Martyrs.
Historian Nicola Verdon
can explain why.
So these benches commemorate
the Ascott Martyrs. Who were they?
The Ascott Martyrs were sixteen
Women who were arrested...
basically, for picketing...
in May of 1873, at Crown Farm.
They were mostly the Wives and
daughters of labourers in the village...
and at Crown Farm.
And their local union had gone
on strike for better wages.
And the farmer, Mr Hambridge,
had sacked his labourers who had...
joined the union. And he
brought in blackleg Workers.
So the Women were trying to persuade
and disrupt the blackleg workers...
from going to work
on that farm.
What happened to the women?
Sixteen of the Women
were arrested.
They were taken to Chipping Norton police
station, Where they were sentenced.
The Women were sentenced to between
seven and ten days' hard labour...
but once the townsfolk got to hear
about that, trouble erupted.
Basically, What happened is
a crowd forms...
outside of the police house...
and starts rioting against
the sentence...
and starts trying to get into
the police station to free the women.
They were planning to take the
Women to Oxford prison by train...
but that was considered
too public, and too risky.
So they whisked them out
the back, in dark, at night...
and took them by horse
and wagon.
What happened to the
Women ultimately?
The Women were eventually pardoned -
they received a pardon from the Queen.
They were also given five-pound
token by the union.
Although they were expressly told
hot to spend it oh alcohol.
During the late 19th century,
rural poverty...
and the rise of the
trade unions...
sparked agrarian revolts across
southern Britain.
The workers struck their early blow for
labourers' rights at Crown Farm.
The job of working these
460 acres...
has changed considerably
since Bradshaw's time.
To find out more, I'm meeting
owner Chris Badger.
Hello!
Excuse me stopping you.
This is Crown Farm, Where the
Ascott Martyrs were...
- That's right, yeah.
- A hundred and fifty years ago.
I assume the whole labour situation's
changed enormously? I mean...
they would've had to employ
many more people in those days.
Oh, yeah, they had horses
and hot tractors!
And they didn't do so
much as we do.
If I didn't have the diversification I have here
I'd probably do the whole lot on my own.
Really?
You could do that?
Oh, yeah. I might bring in one for harvest
- but the rest of the year...
we wouldn't have anybody
here at all.
And if you were just on your own,
I suppose...
you wouldn't have too many labour
difficulties, would you?
Only me - and the wife!
[LAUGHTER]
- You might still have your difficulties!
- That's right!
Have a go!
Although I'm here to learn about
Victorian farming...
I can't resist trying out some
modern-day machinery.
- So, how do I drive this thing?
- Okay, foot on the clutch.
- Yes, sir.
- Turn the key.
- Foot off clutch?
- Foot off the clutch.
- Away you go.
- Foot on accelerator.
And I'm trying to keep the
Wheel following this furrow.
- Hold tight there, Chris.
- That's all right.
- You happy there? A relaxed man?
- Yeah, yeah.
Good. I'm very relaxed
about this.
Not quite so tight on
the furrow... that's nearly...
- That's it. Perfect.
- Very nice.
Perfect.
So, how are the wage levels
of agricultural workers?
Can farm labourers
make a decent wage?
Oh, yeah - they're earning quite good
money these days, I think.
Lots of overtime. It's double-time
at weekends.
They're earning £15-£20
an hour.
I think I've ploughed my furrow... and I
think I've furrowed your brow, as well!
In the days of the
Ascott Martyrs...
it would have taken a man and a
horse a day to plough an acre of land...
whereas today it can be
clone in fifteen minutes.
- Thank you, Chris.
- Pleasure. Enjoyed it.
Only a handful of trains stop at
Ascott-under-Wychwood each day.
I'm interested to see that a vintage
signal box survives here.
Yeah, its quite an
unusual box.
It's on the outskirts between...
[BELL CLANGING]
[TAPPING]
between here and Oxford.
It's basically a fringe box.
[BELL CHIMES]
[TAPPING AND BELL RINGING]
- What's all this business?
- We communicate by bells.
It's an unambiguous Way of
talking to each other.
So What you do you actually
repeat everything back.
That Way it can be deemed
as not being wrong.
So nothing is accepted
until it's repeated back.
I love it, really. It seems
so wonderfully old-fashioned.
- There's about 52 different bell codes.
- No!
Yeah.
The railway block code,
rather like Morse...
is used between signal boxes to ensure
the line is clear and that trains can proceed.
How long has this signal box
been here?
- It's well over a hundred years.
- Ah, isn't that great?
It's a lovely place to work.
A good place to learn
your bell codes.
It is. It's wonderful.
My final destination beckons...
and I'm ready to board my last
train, to the village of Hanborough.
The twelve-mile journey takes me through
glorious Oxfordshire countryside.
Blenheim is the only house
not built for royalty...
or for a bishop, to bear
the title "palace".
Bradshaw's tells me that it contains "a
library of more than 17,000 volumes."
"It did contain a most costly collection
of paintings until recently"...
"the most valuable portion of them having
been accidentally destroyed in a fire."
"It is a calamity that the nation
will deeply deplore."
I'd like to know which works
of art were forever lost...
and also What volumes
graced the bookshelves...
of the house where, a decade
after my Bradshaw's guide...
Winston Churchill was born.
I'm alighting at Hanborough -
the nearest station to Blenheim.
The Palace was built in the
early 18th century...
and was a gift from Queen Anne
to the first Duke of Marlborough...
who had defeated the French at the
Battle of Blenheim in 1704.
The outstanding Baroque edifice is set in
over 2,000 acres of parkland and gardens.
My main interest here is the great fire,
as mentioned in Bradshaw's...
and I'm meeting archivist John Forster
to find out more.
A magnificent space, John -
What is this room called?
This is the Orangery at
Blenheim Palace.
In 1861 there was a huge fire here, which
destroyed a valuable collection of paintings.
When you say "here" -
in the Orangery'?
Yes, actually in this room,
Where we are.
Very early in the career of the
first Duke of Marlborough...
he'd been given a set of paintings
by the Duke of Savoy.
A set of Titians, as they
were then thought.
The fourth Duke of Marlborough, about fifty
years after the acquisition of the paintings...
decided that they were perhaps a little
too risque for the ladies to see...
and so he had them put here
in a separate gallery...
I have to say, for
gentlemen's eyes only.
Would we, ourselves, judge them
as particularly salacious?
We do have copies of
them here...
and I think that by modern standards
they are fairly innocuous.
Ooh la la! There's a lot of
flesh on display!
A lot of flesh - but restricted, by
modern standards, I think.
But in their day they
were thought unsuitable.
Yes, indeed.
Not for the ladies!
John wants to tell me about some of the
later Dukes of Marlborough...
and he's taking me first to
Blenheim's Great Hall.
A spectacular room, with arched
portals, columns, sculpture...
and an exquisitely
decorated ceiling.
And who is this?
So, here We've got the eighth
Duke of Marlborough.
What sort of a man
was he, John?
He was very much a scientist
- a mathematician...
a technocrat, really. And so
he installed the electricity...
he installed his own-designed
telephone system...
and he was responsible for bringing the
railway to Woodstock and Blenheim.
- Blenheim had its own railway station?
- Indeed it did - called "Blenheim".
Ha! Which it no longer has,
unfortunately!
No - unfortunately, it closed
many years ago.
How did the Duke pay for
these improvements?
One of basic things he did was sell
the magnificent picture collection.
Really, all of the great pictures - apart
from the portraits - he sold in 1886.
That's extraordinary. Some paintings
destroyed in the 1860s..
- Others sold in the 1880s.
- Yes.
- Devastating.
- Absolutely devastating.
We're on our Way to the
Palace's library...
that retains catalogues and documents
recording the pictures that were sold.
Good heavens, John. This is one of the
most glorious rooms I've ever set foot in!
Isn't it magnificent?
- Those pictures that were sold..?
- Yes...
here's the original catalogue.
"Catalogue of the Collection of
Pictures from Blenheim Palace"...
"Which, by order of His Grace,
the Duke of Marlborough"...
Saturday, July 24, 1886".
"Will be Sold by Auction... on
If you turn a few pages,
you can begin to see...
the real meat of them.
"Rubens"... "Rubens"...
and so you see the prices paid
then for a Rubens...
only £483.
This one a little more: £1,575...
Image now -
you're talking millions.
And so this is the money that
was used for the electrification...
for the telephone system,
and the railway station.
Yes, and all his other things, too,
that he did at Blenheim, yes.
Bradshaw's tells me that this wonderful
library contains 17,000 volumes.
- Is that accurate?
- Yes.
In Bradshaw's day it did.
But, again, it was sold...
by the seventh Duke, to fund the
expenses of part of his political life.
And so he sold the
library in 1881.
Does anything survive from
the original collection?
We're so lucky, because
some things were held back.
And so we have this magnificent
remains of that original library.
And, Michael, it's actually
in Spanish.
"Comienza El Segundo libro dela general
y natural historia delas Indias."
"Here begins the second book of
general and natural history"...
"of the Indies."
If you look at the date - 1535...
and when you think that Columbus
only discovered it in 1492...
isn't that amazing?
This is absolutely superb.
So this is right at the beginning of
the printed word, as well, is it?
I'm impressed, you see - it's still
totally legible. You read it...
without any difficulty at all.
Five hundred years, it was printed!
That is superb.
And this magnificently survived the
depredations of the seventh Duke.
Yes - indeed.
- John, thank you so much.
- My pleasure.
BYE bye.
Much of our island's story...
is the history of great men.
The Duke of Marlborough, who
won the Battle of Blenheim...
and built this palace.
And Sir Winston Churchill, born here, who
led us to victory in World War Two.
But, in Bradshaw's time, economic
forces were our masters.
And the main actors were not
dukes, but entrepreneurs...
coal owners and the like, and the
men and Women and girls and boys...
who toiled underground to
build Victorian prosperity.
Next time, I discover a miniature edition
by my favourite publisher.
And this is actually the first
edition of Bradshaw's.
Ah! That is exciting.
Marvel at the ambition of
a new railway.
- You're going to raise this up...
- Yep.
- Bring the rail across...
- Yep.
- By this weekend..?
- Yes.
There's a man speaking
with confidence!
And learn What a
hat can do!
It's amazing; in a moment
you've converted me...
from an investment banker
into... a rake!
[END THEME]
For Victorian Britons, George Bradshaw
was a household name.
At a time when railways
were new...
Bradshaw's guidebook inspired
them to take to the tracks.
I'm using a Bradshaw's guide to understand
how trains transformed Britain.
Its landscape...
its industry, society...
and leisure time.
As I arias-cross the country a hundred
and fifty years later...
it helps me to discover
the Britain of today.
I'm now halfway through a journey
that spans Wales and England.
The fabulous Wealth of Victorian Britain was
founded on steam - and that meant coal.
Today I'd like to study the conditions of
those who hewed it from the earth...
in darkness, and of those whose life
was lit by chandeliers.
I'm travelling from
pit to palace.
This journey takes me
across Britain...
from west to east.
From the industrial powerhouse of
South Wales to the Welsh borders...
and the fertile lowlands
of Herefordshire.
I'm seeing how the railways left
no aspect of the country unchanged.
I'll finish in the historic university
city of Cambridge.
This leg will take me below
ground at Abergavenny...
east to Moreton-in-Marsh, and on to
rebellious turf in Ascott-under-Wychwood...
ending in the Oxfordshire
village of Hanborough.
Today, my heart is in my mouth
as I go down a mine.
We're 300 feet below the surface
and it's a strange feeling, isn't it?
It is, yeah.
I'm taught the art of ploughing
in Oxfordshire.
You happy there? Are you
a relaxed man?
Good - I'm very relaxed
about this.
Not quite so tight on
the furrow... that's it.
- Perfect row, that.
- Perfect.
And at Blenheim Palace, I'm offered
a glimpse of some very racy art.
Ooh la la! There's a lot of
flesh on display.
They were perhaps a little too
risque for the ladies to see.
My first stop today will
be Abergavenny...
which, according to Bradshaw's, "stands
amongst the Monmouthshire hills."
"its present prosperity derives from
valuable coal, likely to be"...
"much increased by the Newport,
Abergavenny and Hereford railway"...
on which I am now
travelling.
It's time to descend...
to the bowels of
the Earth.
In the shadow of the Black Mountains
sits the historic town of Abergavenny...
gateway to Wales.
At the time of my guidebook, it was known
for its eleventh-century castle...
and also for its
psychiatric hospital.
The phrase “gone to Abergavenny” was
used locally as a metaphor for going insane.
But the focus of my visit today is
the Blaenavon Big Pit Mine...
where Victorian men, and children,
once toiled night and day...
to power the
Industrial Revolution.
Opened in 1860, it was connected
to the railways six years later.
Today it's a national museum set
in a World Heritage Site.
I'll descend into the black world
of Victorian coal mining.
You press this button.
- On the right...
- Yes?
Brings your light
on - okay?
Thankfully, experienced miner
Paul Green is to accompany me.
- Morning, and thank you.
- Morning.
Thank you.
Do you remember your
first time in the cage?
Yeah. I was a young fifteen-year-old.
I left school at fifteen...
“started with the NOB
in those days.
And when you did your training, they took you
to different mines to have a look, like.
I jumps in the cage, and it Wasn't lovely
and quiet like We've just been taken away.
It was a sudden jolt.
- Were you afraid?
- Not afraid...
"apprehensive" for Want
of a better word.
And as this instructor took us around the
roadways of this particular mine...
there was a guy coming out pulling
a horse along behind him!
Leading a horse! And I thought, "I've
only ever seen one of them in a field!"
[LAUGHTER]
I couldn't believe it!
You must be older than I think!
[PAUL LAUGHS]
A little bit younger
than yourself!
We're 300 feet below the surface and
it's a strange feeling, isn't it?
It is, yeah.
- Morning.
- Good morning to you.
Morning, Pete.
- Just watch your under-feet, Michael.
- Yeah.
Feet and head.
Feet and head -
you got it.
Close the door behind
you, Michael.
- Close this door behind me?
- Yeah.
- So these doors are pretty important?
- Yes, Michael, they're...
ventilation doors. They direct the
air around the roadways of the mine...
where we want it to go.
So We've got a series of doors here.
If we left these doors open...
the air will short-circuit - come down
the shaft that we came down...
straight through this roadway,
up the up-car shaft...
and starve other areas
of the mine of air.
In Victorian times, children as young
as six worked on these doors.
They'd sit by the door and when they
heard the horse and haulier coming along...
they'd get up, open the door...
and close the door behind them. But in those
days they didn't have lights like we have today...
so the child would
have a candle.
What do you think's gonna happen with
that candle because of the air movement?
- It's going to blow out.
- So the child is going to be in the dark.
And so the next haulier comes along
with his horse, and dram of coal...
and would relight the child's candle -
and that's how it used to work.
Watch your head as we
come through.
In 1838, an accident at a colliery
near Barnsley in Yorkshire...
brought the plight of children working
in the mines to public attention.
The disaster led to public outcry,
and a Royal Commission was ordered.
The outcome was an Act of
Parliament in 1842...
that banned Women and children under
ten from working underground.
Right, Michael... this is Where we
enter the stables here at Big Pit.
These are the names of the
ponies, are they?
Yes, the names of the ponies
that actually worked here.
Now, the ponies were well
looked after, mind.
They would come under ground aged four.
You'd have a guy in charge of them...
called a haulier or hostler.
And his duty was to work...
with that horse. Now, then, if this horse
was got injured for any reason...
this mine owner would Want
to know why.
If it was found that it was the haulier's
fault, he would have the sack...
“family kicked out
of the cottage.
You can always get another haulier;
you had to buy another pony.
The ponies were the
more valuable.
Ponies were more valuable
in those days - yeah.
Paul is taking me deeper into the mine
to see What life was like at the coal face.
- What is this chamber?
- This is What we call a "stall'
Now, you'd have man and boy
working together; father and son.
So they'd pick the coal off, using your
mandrels and your tools.
And then it would be the boy's job
to fill the dram of coal.
The miner would only get paid
for the amount of drams he filled...
but only coal. When they were
putting the supports in there...
and building the cogs up, as we call them,
pulling the timber supports up...
they didn't get paid for; only for
the drams that were going out.
So, yes - hard times.
You've been telling me about the
appalling conditions, and of course...
they got better during the Victorian period,
and much better during the 20th century.
But, even so, mining always continued to be
potentially dangerous, and very bad for health.
So why was there such a feeling of community,
such a sense of loyalty, around coal mining?
Mining brought
the community together.
You knew everyone in the village; the
man worked in the pit with you.
In my day, and the Victorian day,
it was a Way of life.
Every village had
a coal mine.
The history of coal mining is the
Victorian age in a nutshell.
Brilliant engineering to
win the coal.
The exploitation of labour by
the coal-mine owners.
Then, waves of legislation and reform, as
Victorians developed a social conscience.
In the 20th century, the coal miners
became the aristocracy of labour...
with the enormous sense of
pride and solidarity...
as I well remember from my
political career.
Before I leave Wales,
there's one last highlight...
to explore, before I seek the
shelter of a railway carriage.
Here the picturesque River Usk winds
through verdant countryside...
towards the Bristol Channel.
“The scenery of the River Usk”,
says Bradshaw's...
"from Abergavenny to Brecon,
is very romantic"...
"as it winds around the Black Mountains.
Excellent trout fishing.“
I'm in the cast of mind to
find out more.
Fly fishing for trout can be
traced back to the Romans.
But advances made by the Victorians
shaped the sport that we enjoy today.
Keen fisherman Simon Evans
has offered to show me why.
Good to see you.
Was trout fishing quite popular
with the Victorians?
Very. There was a whole sort of
culture that built up...
with hotels scattered up and down
the length of the river.
They would catch the railway, there were
stop-offs at regular intervals.
There used to be a fishing hotel that was
associated with most of the stations.
That hotel then had a little
bit of fishing on the Usk.
And it's always been very
popular for that.
And even up to this day it's still very
popular for that type of thing.
Trout thrive in clear, spring-fed rivers,
Where there are plenty of flies.
The fish reputedly have a
brain the size of a pea...
so the fisherman can't feel
too happy when outwitted.
I'm trying to here use some fairly
authentic tackle of that sort of age.
But it's interesting, compared to the
carbon-fibre rods that We're using now.
- So that's made out of What?
- That's made out of cane.
But in the times of the Victorian most
people were using things...
made out of bamboo
and greenheart.
- Did the Victorians have reels?
- They did.
In the Victorian times, most of the reels
were made out of Wood.
This is a Hardy reel from
about 1920, 1930.
But it would've been similar
to a Victorian one?
It would've been almost
identical to a Victorian one.
- What did they use for lines?
- Well, they had silk lines.
Now we use nylon lines. But they
used to have silk thread...
that used to be plaited
and tapered.
But probably the biggest change
has been in What we use...
to connect the line
to the fly.
In those days it was just horses' hair
- from the tail of a horse.
I suppose it was effective - I mean,
they caught fish, didn't they?
They caught plenty
of fish!
How did techniques develop
in the Victorian period?
To begin with, it was just dapping,
so you had a pole and line...
and a fly on the end, and you clapped it
on the surface until trout said "hello".
Then casting came in, with the revolutions
in rods that happens.
And then that gave you the option
of either fishing a wet fly...
which is fishing below
the surface...
trying to imitate a small fish or
something of that ilk.
Or a dry fly, which is imitating
an emerging insect.
Fully briefed on Victorian technique and
strategy, I'm ready to cast my first line.
The rod is effectively like a spring,
so hold the line in your left hand...
Then pick the rod up and try and
cast the line behind you.
And then put it back out again...
Without catching the vegetation!
So as it comes up you're stopping
it on the top of your shoulder...
then letting the line extend backwards
and then it goes back out again.
- Try it one more time.
- Ah.
I'm not immediately getting
the hang of this.
But What is the great attraction,
to you, of angling?
It's just you and the fish.
There's nothing else. It doesn't matter What
else is going on in the world...
whether it's raining, whether you've
got problems at home, or whatever.
It's just you and the fish for
that magic moment.
And that's a precious thing,
in this day and age.
I must return to the line of duty,
and resume my journey.
I'll leave Simon to concentrate
on his catch.
[MUFFLED TRAIN ANNOUNCEMENT]
From Abergavenny, I'm crossing
the border into England...
to the city of Hereford, Where
I'll change trains to travel on east...
to my overnight stop
in the Cotswolds.
My next stop will be What Bradshaw's describes
as "a small town on the old Fosse Way."
It must have some claim to
be at the heart of England...
since, apparently, close
by there's "a four-mile stone"...
"where Oxfordshire, Gloucester,
Worcester and Warwickshire unite."
I can think of no better place to
end this rain-sodden, soggy day...
than Moreton-in-Marsh.
My Bradshaw's recommends this
converted 17th-century coaching inn.
Ideal for the weary traveller.
Before I turn in for the night...
local historian Michael Rees
is joining me for a drink.
I think you might be interested
in the Curfew Tower...
which is opposite this hotel.
Curious name.
Yes, it was called the
"Curfew Tower"...
because a curfew was rung at night
and morning here until the 1860s.
Apparently, the bell in the tower
was rung every night...
to remind the townsfolk of the
risk of fire in their homes.
But it also had other uses.
The story is Sir Robert Fry...
was travelling from London to
Moreton-in-Marsh...
and he got lost in the fog
on Moreton Common.
But, he heard the bell - and it
guided him to his destination, here.
He arrived safely.
And he was so grateful that he made
an endowment of twenty shillings...
for the upkeep of the clock, and ten
shillings for the ringing of the bell.
Well, I think you and I have time, before
the curfew, to have a little drink.
Thank you, Michael.
Another day, and I'm ready to
move on east...
deep into rural Oxfordshire.
Wychwood Forest,
says my Bradshaw's...
“is a fine wooded track of
sylvan beauty”.
And I shall be leaving this train at
Ascott-under-Wychwood.
Of the Oxfordshire countryside,
it says...
“much butter and cheese are made,
and calves are reared and fed"...
"for London markets."
But amidst the placidity of the
cows and the sheep...
trouble was brewing in
the countryside.
During the 1870s, an
agricultural depression...
greatly unsettled Ascott-under-Wychwood's
rural community...
and gave rise to a group known
as the Ascott Martyrs.
Historian Nicola Verdon
can explain why.
So these benches commemorate
the Ascott Martyrs. Who were they?
The Ascott Martyrs were sixteen
Women who were arrested...
basically, for picketing...
in May of 1873, at Crown Farm.
They were mostly the Wives and
daughters of labourers in the village...
and at Crown Farm.
And their local union had gone
on strike for better wages.
And the farmer, Mr Hambridge,
had sacked his labourers who had...
joined the union. And he
brought in blackleg Workers.
So the Women were trying to persuade
and disrupt the blackleg workers...
from going to work
on that farm.
What happened to the women?
Sixteen of the Women
were arrested.
They were taken to Chipping Norton police
station, Where they were sentenced.
The Women were sentenced to between
seven and ten days' hard labour...
but once the townsfolk got to hear
about that, trouble erupted.
Basically, What happened is
a crowd forms...
outside of the police house...
and starts rioting against
the sentence...
and starts trying to get into
the police station to free the women.
They were planning to take the
Women to Oxford prison by train...
but that was considered
too public, and too risky.
So they whisked them out
the back, in dark, at night...
and took them by horse
and wagon.
What happened to the
Women ultimately?
The Women were eventually pardoned -
they received a pardon from the Queen.
They were also given five-pound
token by the union.
Although they were expressly told
hot to spend it oh alcohol.
During the late 19th century,
rural poverty...
and the rise of the
trade unions...
sparked agrarian revolts across
southern Britain.
The workers struck their early blow for
labourers' rights at Crown Farm.
The job of working these
460 acres...
has changed considerably
since Bradshaw's time.
To find out more, I'm meeting
owner Chris Badger.
Hello!
Excuse me stopping you.
This is Crown Farm, Where the
Ascott Martyrs were...
- That's right, yeah.
- A hundred and fifty years ago.
I assume the whole labour situation's
changed enormously? I mean...
they would've had to employ
many more people in those days.
Oh, yeah, they had horses
and hot tractors!
And they didn't do so
much as we do.
If I didn't have the diversification I have here
I'd probably do the whole lot on my own.
Really?
You could do that?
Oh, yeah. I might bring in one for harvest
- but the rest of the year...
we wouldn't have anybody
here at all.
And if you were just on your own,
I suppose...
you wouldn't have too many labour
difficulties, would you?
Only me - and the wife!
[LAUGHTER]
- You might still have your difficulties!
- That's right!
Have a go!
Although I'm here to learn about
Victorian farming...
I can't resist trying out some
modern-day machinery.
- So, how do I drive this thing?
- Okay, foot on the clutch.
- Yes, sir.
- Turn the key.
- Foot off clutch?
- Foot off the clutch.
- Away you go.
- Foot on accelerator.
And I'm trying to keep the
Wheel following this furrow.
- Hold tight there, Chris.
- That's all right.
- You happy there? A relaxed man?
- Yeah, yeah.
Good. I'm very relaxed
about this.
Not quite so tight on
the furrow... that's nearly...
- That's it. Perfect.
- Very nice.
Perfect.
So, how are the wage levels
of agricultural workers?
Can farm labourers
make a decent wage?
Oh, yeah - they're earning quite good
money these days, I think.
Lots of overtime. It's double-time
at weekends.
They're earning £15-£20
an hour.
I think I've ploughed my furrow... and I
think I've furrowed your brow, as well!
In the days of the
Ascott Martyrs...
it would have taken a man and a
horse a day to plough an acre of land...
whereas today it can be
clone in fifteen minutes.
- Thank you, Chris.
- Pleasure. Enjoyed it.
Only a handful of trains stop at
Ascott-under-Wychwood each day.
I'm interested to see that a vintage
signal box survives here.
Yeah, its quite an
unusual box.
It's on the outskirts between...
[BELL CLANGING]
[TAPPING]
between here and Oxford.
It's basically a fringe box.
[BELL CHIMES]
[TAPPING AND BELL RINGING]
- What's all this business?
- We communicate by bells.
It's an unambiguous Way of
talking to each other.
So What you do you actually
repeat everything back.
That Way it can be deemed
as not being wrong.
So nothing is accepted
until it's repeated back.
I love it, really. It seems
so wonderfully old-fashioned.
- There's about 52 different bell codes.
- No!
Yeah.
The railway block code,
rather like Morse...
is used between signal boxes to ensure
the line is clear and that trains can proceed.
How long has this signal box
been here?
- It's well over a hundred years.
- Ah, isn't that great?
It's a lovely place to work.
A good place to learn
your bell codes.
It is. It's wonderful.
My final destination beckons...
and I'm ready to board my last
train, to the village of Hanborough.
The twelve-mile journey takes me through
glorious Oxfordshire countryside.
Blenheim is the only house
not built for royalty...
or for a bishop, to bear
the title "palace".
Bradshaw's tells me that it contains "a
library of more than 17,000 volumes."
"It did contain a most costly collection
of paintings until recently"...
"the most valuable portion of them having
been accidentally destroyed in a fire."
"It is a calamity that the nation
will deeply deplore."
I'd like to know which works
of art were forever lost...
and also What volumes
graced the bookshelves...
of the house where, a decade
after my Bradshaw's guide...
Winston Churchill was born.
I'm alighting at Hanborough -
the nearest station to Blenheim.
The Palace was built in the
early 18th century...
and was a gift from Queen Anne
to the first Duke of Marlborough...
who had defeated the French at the
Battle of Blenheim in 1704.
The outstanding Baroque edifice is set in
over 2,000 acres of parkland and gardens.
My main interest here is the great fire,
as mentioned in Bradshaw's...
and I'm meeting archivist John Forster
to find out more.
A magnificent space, John -
What is this room called?
This is the Orangery at
Blenheim Palace.
In 1861 there was a huge fire here, which
destroyed a valuable collection of paintings.
When you say "here" -
in the Orangery'?
Yes, actually in this room,
Where we are.
Very early in the career of the
first Duke of Marlborough...
he'd been given a set of paintings
by the Duke of Savoy.
A set of Titians, as they
were then thought.
The fourth Duke of Marlborough, about fifty
years after the acquisition of the paintings...
decided that they were perhaps a little
too risque for the ladies to see...
and so he had them put here
in a separate gallery...
I have to say, for
gentlemen's eyes only.
Would we, ourselves, judge them
as particularly salacious?
We do have copies of
them here...
and I think that by modern standards
they are fairly innocuous.
Ooh la la! There's a lot of
flesh on display!
A lot of flesh - but restricted, by
modern standards, I think.
But in their day they
were thought unsuitable.
Yes, indeed.
Not for the ladies!
John wants to tell me about some of the
later Dukes of Marlborough...
and he's taking me first to
Blenheim's Great Hall.
A spectacular room, with arched
portals, columns, sculpture...
and an exquisitely
decorated ceiling.
And who is this?
So, here We've got the eighth
Duke of Marlborough.
What sort of a man
was he, John?
He was very much a scientist
- a mathematician...
a technocrat, really. And so
he installed the electricity...
he installed his own-designed
telephone system...
and he was responsible for bringing the
railway to Woodstock and Blenheim.
- Blenheim had its own railway station?
- Indeed it did - called "Blenheim".
Ha! Which it no longer has,
unfortunately!
No - unfortunately, it closed
many years ago.
How did the Duke pay for
these improvements?
One of basic things he did was sell
the magnificent picture collection.
Really, all of the great pictures - apart
from the portraits - he sold in 1886.
That's extraordinary. Some paintings
destroyed in the 1860s..
- Others sold in the 1880s.
- Yes.
- Devastating.
- Absolutely devastating.
We're on our Way to the
Palace's library...
that retains catalogues and documents
recording the pictures that were sold.
Good heavens, John. This is one of the
most glorious rooms I've ever set foot in!
Isn't it magnificent?
- Those pictures that were sold..?
- Yes...
here's the original catalogue.
"Catalogue of the Collection of
Pictures from Blenheim Palace"...
"Which, by order of His Grace,
the Duke of Marlborough"...
Saturday, July 24, 1886".
"Will be Sold by Auction... on
If you turn a few pages,
you can begin to see...
the real meat of them.
"Rubens"... "Rubens"...
and so you see the prices paid
then for a Rubens...
only £483.
This one a little more: £1,575...
Image now -
you're talking millions.
And so this is the money that
was used for the electrification...
for the telephone system,
and the railway station.
Yes, and all his other things, too,
that he did at Blenheim, yes.
Bradshaw's tells me that this wonderful
library contains 17,000 volumes.
- Is that accurate?
- Yes.
In Bradshaw's day it did.
But, again, it was sold...
by the seventh Duke, to fund the
expenses of part of his political life.
And so he sold the
library in 1881.
Does anything survive from
the original collection?
We're so lucky, because
some things were held back.
And so we have this magnificent
remains of that original library.
And, Michael, it's actually
in Spanish.
"Comienza El Segundo libro dela general
y natural historia delas Indias."
"Here begins the second book of
general and natural history"...
"of the Indies."
If you look at the date - 1535...
and when you think that Columbus
only discovered it in 1492...
isn't that amazing?
This is absolutely superb.
So this is right at the beginning of
the printed word, as well, is it?
I'm impressed, you see - it's still
totally legible. You read it...
without any difficulty at all.
Five hundred years, it was printed!
That is superb.
And this magnificently survived the
depredations of the seventh Duke.
Yes - indeed.
- John, thank you so much.
- My pleasure.
BYE bye.
Much of our island's story...
is the history of great men.
The Duke of Marlborough, who
won the Battle of Blenheim...
and built this palace.
And Sir Winston Churchill, born here, who
led us to victory in World War Two.
But, in Bradshaw's time, economic
forces were our masters.
And the main actors were not
dukes, but entrepreneurs...
coal owners and the like, and the
men and Women and girls and boys...
who toiled underground to
build Victorian prosperity.
Next time, I discover a miniature edition
by my favourite publisher.
And this is actually the first
edition of Bradshaw's.
Ah! That is exciting.
Marvel at the ambition of
a new railway.
- You're going to raise this up...
- Yep.
- Bring the rail across...
- Yep.
- By this weekend..?
- Yes.
There's a man speaking
with confidence!
And learn What a
hat can do!
It's amazing; in a moment
you've converted me...
from an investment banker
into... a rake!
[END THEME]