Great British Railway Journeys (2010–…): Season 7, Episode 18 - Woking to Walton-on-Thames - full transcript
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 crisscross the country
150 years later, it helps me
to discover the Britain of today.
I'm continuing my journey
through Surrey.
Today, I hope to discover how
the Victorian middle classes
created beautiful homes and gardens.
And, by the end of the 19th century,
demanded a revolution
in personal transport to match that
in public transport
represented by the railways.
The pace of change in
Victorian Britain altered
everything in life, including death.
Following my Bradshaw's guidebook,
I travelled through the
county of Kent and took a route
south of London into Surrey.
Passing through the Home Counties,
I'll visit racetracks
and royal residences before ending
riverside in Henley-on-Thames.
Today, I make a sombre
start in Woking.
I then put down some roots
in West Byfleet,
before racing through Weybridge
to an intense end
in Walton-on-Thames.
I get my hands dirty at Wisley.
You're being quite rough with that.
I'd be frightened to do that.
In the long term, this will do
the plant no end of good.
So a bit of rough love?
- Absolutely.
Pitch up to see some early
camping kit.
This looks handy.
Probably not when it's full,
Michael.
That is actually a washing-up bowl.
[THEY LAUGH]
And get a fright at the wheel
of a vintage racing car.
The throttle's got stuck.
The throttle's got stuck.
No, the throttle's got stuck.
Thank you very much.
That was a nasty moment.
I'm passing close to the enormous
Brookwood Cemetery,
opened in 1864,
the year of my guidebook,
to cope with burials from London.
But towards the end of the 19th
century, with the enormous increase
in the metropolitan population,
the ingenious idea of exporting
bodies from London
to suburban cemeteries
was running out of steam.
And the city was about
to lose the plot.
My first stop today is Woking.
A busy interchange station
with fast links to London,
as well as mainlines to the
South Coast and the South West.
Just west of Woking,
the Brookwood Cemetery is
the largest in western Europe.
Built to inter the capital's dead,
it was supplied by trains from
Waterloo with corpses and mourners.
A decade after Brookwood opened,
a movement began to promote a
controversial alternative to burial.
Professor Hilary Grainger is
a member of the Cremation Society.
Hilary, I suppose with cemeteries
like Brookwood filling up,
that would lead to an interest
in cremation.
It did indeed. And it was not
simply a question of space,
but it was also
a question of hygiene.
Cremationists in the 1870s became
very concerned about the miasma,
the gasses that they believed
were being emitted
from overcrowded cemeteries,
spreading disease.
So the Cremation Movement
was historically secular,
concerned with health and hygiene.
And also, of course, was underpinned
by advances in Victorian technology.
Had it not been for Victorian
engineering in terms of
furnace developments, then
cremation couldn't have taken place.
Cremation had been
the most common way
to dispose of corpses
during the Roman Empire.
But for almost 2,000 years,
the Christian church had
stipulated that they must be buried.
Despite religious opposition,
the movement to promote cremation
was established in 1874.
And four years later,
it constructed Britain's first
purpose-built crematorium at Woking.
The Cremation Society was
founded by Sir Henry Thompson,
who was the surgeon
to Queen Victoria.
He, together
with 15 like-minded people,
signed a declaration
in favour of cremation.
And one of the early advocates
made the comment that they were
seeking purification
rather than putrefaction.
So, then, the cremations began?
- Um... no.
Sir Henry Thompson
and colleagues cremated a horse,
but that caused a huge uproar
in Woking, led by the vicar.
And he, together with a
number of residents,
made a deputation to
the Home Secretary,
who declared that cremation
was not a legal act
until there was some sort
of parliamentary authorisation.
A curious court case in 1884
effectively changed the law.
After a Welsh druid,
Dr William Price,
had cremated the body of his child,
a judge ruled that it was not
criminal if no nuisance was caused.
That made cremations legal.
And they began here
at Woking Crematorium in 1885,
with three taking place
in the first year.
Given the religious opposition
to cremation,
it's quite surprising
that this building,
which is clearly 19th century,
looks ecclesiastical.
That is because the crematorium posed
a real problem for an architect.
It was a new building type,
for which there was no
architectural precedent.
And in that sense,
rather analogous, I think,
to early Victorian railway stations.
And so architects, I think,
in the early years,
designed crematoria
to looked like churches.
But, of course,
they're hot churches.
And many people find it surprising
that they're not
consecrated buildings.
Since cremation was
regarded as unconventional,
the building was designed to be
reassuringly traditional.
So now we've come inside,
we find this splendid catafalque.
Again, lots of religious symbolism.
Indeed, the catafalque is not only
the structure upon which
the coffin sits, but it's also
the means by which it's removed
mechanically and horizontally
through to the cremator room.
In many early crematoria, coffins
descended in an imitation of burial.
The early adopters of cremation
were typically drawn from
the realms of science, medicine,
arts and literature.
Here we have Thomas Hardy,
the novelist, who was cremated,
and his ashes were taken
to Westminster Abbey for interment.
Very striking. He's come all the way
from Dorchester, that's a long way.
It is, but you have to remember
there were very few crematoria
built at this time.
Well, I'm just the far side
of the catafalque,
and on the other side
is that beautiful brass door.
Here, it's just plain wood,
and what a contrast,
this is a stainless steel table,
and here's the handle
that winds the coffin through.
Hello, Phil.
- Hello, Michael.
So, this is where the cremation
actually takes place?
Yes, this is what we call
a cremator.
What is the process
that goes oh in there?
The process is basically
the lighting of the coffin
from the heat of the chamber,
and from then on it's combustion.
And then all that matter is reduced.
How long does that process take?
Approximately 90 minutes.
It wasn't until 1968 that the number
of cremations began to exceed burials
and today, cremations make up
well over 70% of funerals.
What looks like a graveyard
but is not a graveyard?
This.
In the early days of cremation,
Victorians and Edwardians
clung to the idea of burying ashes.
It was as though they could
hot let go of ah ancient ritual
in an age that prided itself
on its rationalism.
Back at Woking Station,
I'm taking a London-bound train.
But I won't be going
anywhere near the capital,
as this leg of the journey takes me
just three miles along the tracks.
I'm now passing through what Bradshaw's
describes as "a succession
of picturesque views
"which will delight the traveller,
"affording pleasing specimens
of English forest scenery."
In the 19th century, the middle
classes wanted to bring nature
closer to their homes,
to their gardens,
and they did so
with Victorian earnestness,
and they benefited from an explosion
in the number of available specimens.
I'm alighting at West Byfleet,
closest station
to the Royal Horticultural
Society's garden at Wisley.
Across its 240 acres
of decorative flowerbeds,
glasshouses, laboratories
and an arboretum,
it displays species
from around the world.
Throughout the 19th century,
the RHS educated
the Victorian gardener
as interest
in horticulture bloomed.
I'm meeting the director
of horticulture, Tim Upson.
Tim, I believe the origins of the
Royal Horticultural Society
go back to the beginnings
of the 19th century.
What was going on in that period
to make people want to found
such an organisation?
We were founded in 1804.
Seven gentlemen proposing
a new horticultural society,
really just to understand
this vast wealth of new plants
which were coming in
from around the world.
And to promote the practice,
science and art of horticulture is
really what we're still about today.
These people were, I take it,
gentlemen with substantial estates?
Absolutely. John Wedgwood
of the Wedgwood pottery family,
Sir Joseph Banks, one of our great
scientists, and an explorer.
What's the history of
this particular site at Wisley?
This was actually the estate
of George Fergusson Wilson.
He was a chemist by profession,
but what he wanted to do
was to experiment
about how to grow
some of these new plants
which were being brought
into the country.
And this site offered the
opportunity, as he described,
to grow some of these new plants in
half a dozen different conditions.
So, it's about experimenting
and trying to understand
what these new plants needed.
A successful Victorian businessman,
Wilson sowed the seeds
of today's experimental gardens,
which passed to the RHS
in 1903 upon his death.
We've met in the rockery,
which strikes me as a particularly
Victorian sort of garden.
Yes, very much of that era.
In fact, they used a light railway
to move these big Sussex sandstone
boulders around,
and build it on the slopes here,
and it's one of the fabulous
features of this garden.
Do you think the British today
are more or less passionate
than the Victorians were
about their gardens?
There's still a lot of passion.
We're a great gardening country.
I think we're beginning to realise
now important horticulture
and green spaces are
to our general lives.
It makes you feel better.
And get a bit of soil under
your nails.
That's right,
that's what it's all about really.
The gardens were initially
only open to RHS members,
of which there are now 440,000,
but today Wisley is open to all.
What brings you to Wisley?
A walk.
- It's a very pleasant morning.
Is it a good place for a
family day out?
Fantastic. We come here
quite a lot.
What do you enjoy about it
particularly?
They love being
in the big green house, obviously.
And they like building the dens.
Why do you think the British
are so crazy about gardens?
Very therapeutic. Gardening
is very therapeutic.
I suppose we have
the weather for it -
a lot of places are very dry,
so it's difficult to grow plants.
Whereas we have... I suppose
it's easier to grow a variety.
Growing the many thousands
of varieties of plants,
and educating the public about them,
is a team of up to 200 gardeners.
Hello, Stewart.
- Hello, Michael.
I gather we're going to plant a tree.
- That's right.
I'm hoping to learn a thing or two
from gardener Stewart Hall.
Stewart, the leaves are oh the turn
and there's a chill in the air.
Is this a good time
to be planting a tree?
That's right, autumn is always
the best time to plant trees.
If you plant in summer, you have to
think about watering continually,
so yes, autumn
is always the best time.
Right, if I do that, you'll be
able to pull the tree out.
Yay.
Comes out quite easily, and we can
have a good look at the root system.
It's got quite a healthy root system,
it's not too pot bound.
But it can always do with quite
a nice rigorous breaking up.
This will encourage
the roots to spread outwards.
You're being quite rough with it.
I'd be frightened to do that.
When we're demonstrating
to the public,
they get quite surprised that you
can be quite ruthless with this
but in the long term this
will do the plant no end of good.
Bit of rough love.
- Absolutely.
This tree is a type of acer
called October Glory,
and should have a lifespan
of around 100 years.
So, we'll give it a nice good soak.
What I'll do is give it
a nice thick cover of compost.
Well, Stewart, I've enjoyed
getting my hands dirty.
Thank you so much.
- My pleasure.
Thank you for helping.
Bye!
' BYE-bye.
As the day ends, I feel I've left my
mark on these beautiful gardens.
It's a new day and I'm rejoining
the tracks at West Byfleet
to make my way along this busy London
commuter line to Weybridge.
Throughout Queen Victoria's reign,
trains were the only form of
high-speed transport.
But all her successors have witnessed
the irresistible rise
of private high-speed transport on
the roads.
I hope to appreciate the
moment of transition
when I leave this train at Weybridge.
Within walking distance of the
station is Brooklands Museum.
It charts the rise of motor racing
from the early
prototypes of the Victorian era,
through to today.
Brooklands is the birthplace
of British motorsport,
as it was the first purpose-built
race track in the world
and was crucial to the development
of the British motor industry.
Alan Wynne is the director
of the motor museum.
So, when does motor racing
really get going?
On the Continent, in the latter
years of the 19th century.
In this country, with the exception
of very few hillclimbs and sprints
on private ground, nothing until
1907, when Brooklands track opened.
Why the big difference between the
Continent and the UK?
It was all down to legislation,
originally.
Speed limits, in particular. Up
until 1896, you've got
a speed limit of 4mph, a man with
a red flag walking in front of you.
Then we went to 12mph
and then to 20mph,
but that's not the stuff
of motor racing.
So what happens to change that?
It's really down to Hugh Locke
King, an enthusiastic motorist.
He owns all this land around here,
goes off to Sicily to see the Coppa
Florio motor race on public roads,
laments the lack of British motor
cars and drivers
and is told that the reason is,
there's just nowhere where the
British manufacturers can develop
fast motor cars.
So he comes back, resolved to build
this track and we end up with
a two-and-three-quarter mile
concrete racetrack, 100 feet wide,
the first purpose-built motor racing
circuit in the world.
Shall we go and have a look at it?
Yeah, come aboard an earlier car
and we'll show you what it's all about.
Given how dominant trains were in
meeting Britain's transport needs
when this track was built,
only a visionary could have imagined
how far the motorcar would develop.
Brooklands cost 150,000 pounds
to build.
Equivalent to 16 million pounds today.
And it nearly bankrupted Locke King.
Steep bankings at each end allowed
the cars to corner at great speeds.
Because there was no precedent to
how you would run a motor race
on a closed circuit, the Brooklands
Automobile Racing Club just
borrowed the rules of horseracing.
So to this day in motor racing we
have the cars assembling in a paddock
under the control of the clerk of
the course, indiscretions of
the drivers are dealt with by
stewards, all of the things
that pertained in motor racing right
now will come straight from horse racing.
Fantastic.
This iconic track hosted the Junior
Car Club's famous 200 miles races
in the 1920s and '30s.
And staged the first ever British
Grand Prix in 1926.
Racing ceased at Brooklands on the
outbreak of the Second World War,
when the site was used to build
Vickers military aircraft.
Today, sections of the track remain
and I'm throwing caution to the wind
to take this beauty out for a spin.
What is this car?
A 1929 Bentley 4.5 litre,
as raced by legends of modern motor
racing like Tim Birkin.
He raced this car in the double
12 race in 1929.
Still going strong.
Still going extremely strong.
Right, so all three switches on the
right-hand side down.
All down.
- Ignition to fully retarded.
Press the starter button here.
[ENGINE IGNITES]
Takes a bit of getting used to. The
throttle is in the middle,
the brake's on the right...
Imagine streaking along the
course, 100, 120mph,
the crowds going crazy, racing green
streaking past them.
This car can easily go over 100mph,
but I'm not aiming for a
track record today.
I'm enjoying this!
Well, I'm glad you're getting to
learn a vintage motorcar
in such a wonderful, evocative
place as this.
Ah, couldn't be better, could it?
The world's first purpose-built
motor racing circuit.
One of the finest cars
ever built in Britain.
How lucky am I?
But sadly, I'm no expert at driving
this vintage vehicle.
I've out the... The throttle's
got stuck.
The throttle's got stuck.
No, throttle's got...
Yes, sorry, you knocked the
hand throttle.
On, OK.
Thank you very much, that was
a nasty moment.
As I leave the racetrack,
I make my way back
to the traintrack at Weybridge.
My next stop will be
Walton-on-Thames.
I want to look at a Victorian who
brought together in one activity
many of the fashions of the day.
An interest in nature, a wish to
escape from the urban grime,
a concern for fitness and for
manliness, and on a dull and damp day
like this, what better time to think
about camping?
Walton-on-Thames is situated on the
south-west mainline
and served by fast trains,
some of which stop only once between
here and London Waterloo.
It seems a most unlikely
place to find a campsite.
Owned by The Camping and Caravanning
Club, it's the oldest
remaining site in their network
and was established in 1913.
I'm meeting Candy Evans, who writes
for their magazine.
So people have been pitching their
tents here for more than 100 years.
How did camping as an activity
get going?
It dates back to a gentleman by the
name of Thomas Hiram Holding,
the gentleman that is sitting in
this tent here.
He had spent his early years,
the 1840s, in America,
part of the wagon trains.
And as he got older, he then went
into making tents for his own use
and for his friends and in 1901, he
combined that
with his love of cycling and started
the Association of Cycle Campers.
Born in 1844, Holding was 57 when he
formed the Association,
which started out with just 13
members.
By 1906, the association had several
hundred members
later go on to become the Camping and
Caravanning Club that we know today.
And as far as cycling and
camping is concerned,
did they have special bikes to
do that?
They did, yes.
And you can see on here that he has
special carriers for his
Primus stove and another one for
his milk bottles.
And we have actually got a
Primus here,
which dates back to those sort
of days.
I must say, I think I remember what
to do with this.
Put down the feet for it to stand on,
and you put the supports in here...
which is going to...
keep up your saucepan.
That bit screws in there...
burner sits on top...
And then I seem to remember that
you have to prime it like mad.
What else have you got here?
This looks handy.
Probably not when it's full,
Michael.
That is actually a washing-up bowl.
But obviously...
- I see.
Once a year you would
waterproof that
and you would carry your water in
this water carrier here.
Again, it would be waterproofed,
waxed once a year
and that will do you for the season.
At the turn-of-the-century,
camping as a leisure pursuit was very
much in its infancy.
Equipment had to be improvised
and the novice camper needed guidance
on how to survive the great outdoors.
Holding wrote a seminal book,
The Campers' Handbook, to impart
his many tips.
It was extremely important to
possible new campers of the day,
because it told you absolutely
everything,
everything from what to take with
you, how to transport it,
the food you might like,
through to how to deal with snorers
on the campsite.
One of the most important things
is the clothing.
I mean, here for example is
the lady with her skirt on.
"The best kind of skirt for camping
is one that finishes three inches
"off the ground and it should not be
less, nor need it be more."
So what did he think people could
get out of camping?
Well, for him, I think a lot of it
was about health.
Holding maintained that if you had
a cold when you went camping,
it would go immediately.
I think he was very much of his
time, a Victorian man for whom
the outdoors was a very important
part of life and it was very much
a case of getting people out of the
cities and into the countryside.
In those days, there were no
statutory holidays and in fact,
most of the people who could
afford to do this would
have been the upper middle class
and it was very much a case
of those people getting
out and doing what felt right.
So once he's got all this going,
how does it catch on?
Remarkably rapidly, actually.
By the time Robert Falcon Scott
goes on his ill-fated expedition
to the Antarctic, he was the
president of the club.
And by the 21 St birthday of the
club, Baden-Powell of the
Scouting movement was very heavily
involved
and had become the president.
And there's a lovely picture there
of him, obviously very relaxed
and in his element, being surrounded
by other fellow campers.
Today, the Camping and Caravanning
Club has over half a million members
and over 100 campsites the length
and breadth of Britain.
Hello!
Sorry to trouble you.
And it's come a long way from the
sheets and poles of a century ago.
Do you mind if I just sit down
for a moment?
Not at all.
- You're very welcome.
You've got a very smart motorhome.
Have you been touring long?
Over two years now.
Our three children, who we raised
in Sydney,
have all put down their roots here
and when we retired, they said,
"Mum and Dad, you've got to come
over and join us, the family's moved."
So we're partly enjoying retirement
and partly looking for somewhere
we might ultimately settle.
Are you are getting near to
making a decision?
Um...
Well, no.
- Not really.
We came over the with a list of
things we wanted to do
and after two years, the list is
even longer now,
so we haven't ultimately decided
Where we're going to settle.
We enjoy this life.
Today's campers might have
fancier equipment
and more home comforts, but the
spirit of adventure that ran
through Victorians like Thomas Hiram
Holding, endures.
During the Victorian era, those who
could afford leisure visited
the countryside using the train.
By the end of the century,
some were using bicycles to go
camping, or motorcars to tour.
The middle classes imported nature
into their urban gardens.
But they added to the
pressure on space,
as reflected by the desperate search
for places to bury the dead.
Cremation was the obvious answer,
but it required the overthrow of two
millennia of Christian theology.
Next time, I'm let loose on the
longest vine in the world.
Have you ever allowed an incompetent
like me to do this?
No! No.
[HE LAUGHS]
I get fired up, like an early
Victorian gent.
I've hit my man!
And I find how the course of British
history was set in Esher.
If Charlotte had not died, Victoria
would never have been conceived
and we'd never have had
the Victorian era.
[END THEME]
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 crisscross the country
150 years later, it helps me
to discover the Britain of today.
I'm continuing my journey
through Surrey.
Today, I hope to discover how
the Victorian middle classes
created beautiful homes and gardens.
And, by the end of the 19th century,
demanded a revolution
in personal transport to match that
in public transport
represented by the railways.
The pace of change in
Victorian Britain altered
everything in life, including death.
Following my Bradshaw's guidebook,
I travelled through the
county of Kent and took a route
south of London into Surrey.
Passing through the Home Counties,
I'll visit racetracks
and royal residences before ending
riverside in Henley-on-Thames.
Today, I make a sombre
start in Woking.
I then put down some roots
in West Byfleet,
before racing through Weybridge
to an intense end
in Walton-on-Thames.
I get my hands dirty at Wisley.
You're being quite rough with that.
I'd be frightened to do that.
In the long term, this will do
the plant no end of good.
So a bit of rough love?
- Absolutely.
Pitch up to see some early
camping kit.
This looks handy.
Probably not when it's full,
Michael.
That is actually a washing-up bowl.
[THEY LAUGH]
And get a fright at the wheel
of a vintage racing car.
The throttle's got stuck.
The throttle's got stuck.
No, the throttle's got stuck.
Thank you very much.
That was a nasty moment.
I'm passing close to the enormous
Brookwood Cemetery,
opened in 1864,
the year of my guidebook,
to cope with burials from London.
But towards the end of the 19th
century, with the enormous increase
in the metropolitan population,
the ingenious idea of exporting
bodies from London
to suburban cemeteries
was running out of steam.
And the city was about
to lose the plot.
My first stop today is Woking.
A busy interchange station
with fast links to London,
as well as mainlines to the
South Coast and the South West.
Just west of Woking,
the Brookwood Cemetery is
the largest in western Europe.
Built to inter the capital's dead,
it was supplied by trains from
Waterloo with corpses and mourners.
A decade after Brookwood opened,
a movement began to promote a
controversial alternative to burial.
Professor Hilary Grainger is
a member of the Cremation Society.
Hilary, I suppose with cemeteries
like Brookwood filling up,
that would lead to an interest
in cremation.
It did indeed. And it was not
simply a question of space,
but it was also
a question of hygiene.
Cremationists in the 1870s became
very concerned about the miasma,
the gasses that they believed
were being emitted
from overcrowded cemeteries,
spreading disease.
So the Cremation Movement
was historically secular,
concerned with health and hygiene.
And also, of course, was underpinned
by advances in Victorian technology.
Had it not been for Victorian
engineering in terms of
furnace developments, then
cremation couldn't have taken place.
Cremation had been
the most common way
to dispose of corpses
during the Roman Empire.
But for almost 2,000 years,
the Christian church had
stipulated that they must be buried.
Despite religious opposition,
the movement to promote cremation
was established in 1874.
And four years later,
it constructed Britain's first
purpose-built crematorium at Woking.
The Cremation Society was
founded by Sir Henry Thompson,
who was the surgeon
to Queen Victoria.
He, together
with 15 like-minded people,
signed a declaration
in favour of cremation.
And one of the early advocates
made the comment that they were
seeking purification
rather than putrefaction.
So, then, the cremations began?
- Um... no.
Sir Henry Thompson
and colleagues cremated a horse,
but that caused a huge uproar
in Woking, led by the vicar.
And he, together with a
number of residents,
made a deputation to
the Home Secretary,
who declared that cremation
was not a legal act
until there was some sort
of parliamentary authorisation.
A curious court case in 1884
effectively changed the law.
After a Welsh druid,
Dr William Price,
had cremated the body of his child,
a judge ruled that it was not
criminal if no nuisance was caused.
That made cremations legal.
And they began here
at Woking Crematorium in 1885,
with three taking place
in the first year.
Given the religious opposition
to cremation,
it's quite surprising
that this building,
which is clearly 19th century,
looks ecclesiastical.
That is because the crematorium posed
a real problem for an architect.
It was a new building type,
for which there was no
architectural precedent.
And in that sense,
rather analogous, I think,
to early Victorian railway stations.
And so architects, I think,
in the early years,
designed crematoria
to looked like churches.
But, of course,
they're hot churches.
And many people find it surprising
that they're not
consecrated buildings.
Since cremation was
regarded as unconventional,
the building was designed to be
reassuringly traditional.
So now we've come inside,
we find this splendid catafalque.
Again, lots of religious symbolism.
Indeed, the catafalque is not only
the structure upon which
the coffin sits, but it's also
the means by which it's removed
mechanically and horizontally
through to the cremator room.
In many early crematoria, coffins
descended in an imitation of burial.
The early adopters of cremation
were typically drawn from
the realms of science, medicine,
arts and literature.
Here we have Thomas Hardy,
the novelist, who was cremated,
and his ashes were taken
to Westminster Abbey for interment.
Very striking. He's come all the way
from Dorchester, that's a long way.
It is, but you have to remember
there were very few crematoria
built at this time.
Well, I'm just the far side
of the catafalque,
and on the other side
is that beautiful brass door.
Here, it's just plain wood,
and what a contrast,
this is a stainless steel table,
and here's the handle
that winds the coffin through.
Hello, Phil.
- Hello, Michael.
So, this is where the cremation
actually takes place?
Yes, this is what we call
a cremator.
What is the process
that goes oh in there?
The process is basically
the lighting of the coffin
from the heat of the chamber,
and from then on it's combustion.
And then all that matter is reduced.
How long does that process take?
Approximately 90 minutes.
It wasn't until 1968 that the number
of cremations began to exceed burials
and today, cremations make up
well over 70% of funerals.
What looks like a graveyard
but is not a graveyard?
This.
In the early days of cremation,
Victorians and Edwardians
clung to the idea of burying ashes.
It was as though they could
hot let go of ah ancient ritual
in an age that prided itself
on its rationalism.
Back at Woking Station,
I'm taking a London-bound train.
But I won't be going
anywhere near the capital,
as this leg of the journey takes me
just three miles along the tracks.
I'm now passing through what Bradshaw's
describes as "a succession
of picturesque views
"which will delight the traveller,
"affording pleasing specimens
of English forest scenery."
In the 19th century, the middle
classes wanted to bring nature
closer to their homes,
to their gardens,
and they did so
with Victorian earnestness,
and they benefited from an explosion
in the number of available specimens.
I'm alighting at West Byfleet,
closest station
to the Royal Horticultural
Society's garden at Wisley.
Across its 240 acres
of decorative flowerbeds,
glasshouses, laboratories
and an arboretum,
it displays species
from around the world.
Throughout the 19th century,
the RHS educated
the Victorian gardener
as interest
in horticulture bloomed.
I'm meeting the director
of horticulture, Tim Upson.
Tim, I believe the origins of the
Royal Horticultural Society
go back to the beginnings
of the 19th century.
What was going on in that period
to make people want to found
such an organisation?
We were founded in 1804.
Seven gentlemen proposing
a new horticultural society,
really just to understand
this vast wealth of new plants
which were coming in
from around the world.
And to promote the practice,
science and art of horticulture is
really what we're still about today.
These people were, I take it,
gentlemen with substantial estates?
Absolutely. John Wedgwood
of the Wedgwood pottery family,
Sir Joseph Banks, one of our great
scientists, and an explorer.
What's the history of
this particular site at Wisley?
This was actually the estate
of George Fergusson Wilson.
He was a chemist by profession,
but what he wanted to do
was to experiment
about how to grow
some of these new plants
which were being brought
into the country.
And this site offered the
opportunity, as he described,
to grow some of these new plants in
half a dozen different conditions.
So, it's about experimenting
and trying to understand
what these new plants needed.
A successful Victorian businessman,
Wilson sowed the seeds
of today's experimental gardens,
which passed to the RHS
in 1903 upon his death.
We've met in the rockery,
which strikes me as a particularly
Victorian sort of garden.
Yes, very much of that era.
In fact, they used a light railway
to move these big Sussex sandstone
boulders around,
and build it on the slopes here,
and it's one of the fabulous
features of this garden.
Do you think the British today
are more or less passionate
than the Victorians were
about their gardens?
There's still a lot of passion.
We're a great gardening country.
I think we're beginning to realise
now important horticulture
and green spaces are
to our general lives.
It makes you feel better.
And get a bit of soil under
your nails.
That's right,
that's what it's all about really.
The gardens were initially
only open to RHS members,
of which there are now 440,000,
but today Wisley is open to all.
What brings you to Wisley?
A walk.
- It's a very pleasant morning.
Is it a good place for a
family day out?
Fantastic. We come here
quite a lot.
What do you enjoy about it
particularly?
They love being
in the big green house, obviously.
And they like building the dens.
Why do you think the British
are so crazy about gardens?
Very therapeutic. Gardening
is very therapeutic.
I suppose we have
the weather for it -
a lot of places are very dry,
so it's difficult to grow plants.
Whereas we have... I suppose
it's easier to grow a variety.
Growing the many thousands
of varieties of plants,
and educating the public about them,
is a team of up to 200 gardeners.
Hello, Stewart.
- Hello, Michael.
I gather we're going to plant a tree.
- That's right.
I'm hoping to learn a thing or two
from gardener Stewart Hall.
Stewart, the leaves are oh the turn
and there's a chill in the air.
Is this a good time
to be planting a tree?
That's right, autumn is always
the best time to plant trees.
If you plant in summer, you have to
think about watering continually,
so yes, autumn
is always the best time.
Right, if I do that, you'll be
able to pull the tree out.
Yay.
Comes out quite easily, and we can
have a good look at the root system.
It's got quite a healthy root system,
it's not too pot bound.
But it can always do with quite
a nice rigorous breaking up.
This will encourage
the roots to spread outwards.
You're being quite rough with it.
I'd be frightened to do that.
When we're demonstrating
to the public,
they get quite surprised that you
can be quite ruthless with this
but in the long term this
will do the plant no end of good.
Bit of rough love.
- Absolutely.
This tree is a type of acer
called October Glory,
and should have a lifespan
of around 100 years.
So, we'll give it a nice good soak.
What I'll do is give it
a nice thick cover of compost.
Well, Stewart, I've enjoyed
getting my hands dirty.
Thank you so much.
- My pleasure.
Thank you for helping.
Bye!
' BYE-bye.
As the day ends, I feel I've left my
mark on these beautiful gardens.
It's a new day and I'm rejoining
the tracks at West Byfleet
to make my way along this busy London
commuter line to Weybridge.
Throughout Queen Victoria's reign,
trains were the only form of
high-speed transport.
But all her successors have witnessed
the irresistible rise
of private high-speed transport on
the roads.
I hope to appreciate the
moment of transition
when I leave this train at Weybridge.
Within walking distance of the
station is Brooklands Museum.
It charts the rise of motor racing
from the early
prototypes of the Victorian era,
through to today.
Brooklands is the birthplace
of British motorsport,
as it was the first purpose-built
race track in the world
and was crucial to the development
of the British motor industry.
Alan Wynne is the director
of the motor museum.
So, when does motor racing
really get going?
On the Continent, in the latter
years of the 19th century.
In this country, with the exception
of very few hillclimbs and sprints
on private ground, nothing until
1907, when Brooklands track opened.
Why the big difference between the
Continent and the UK?
It was all down to legislation,
originally.
Speed limits, in particular. Up
until 1896, you've got
a speed limit of 4mph, a man with
a red flag walking in front of you.
Then we went to 12mph
and then to 20mph,
but that's not the stuff
of motor racing.
So what happens to change that?
It's really down to Hugh Locke
King, an enthusiastic motorist.
He owns all this land around here,
goes off to Sicily to see the Coppa
Florio motor race on public roads,
laments the lack of British motor
cars and drivers
and is told that the reason is,
there's just nowhere where the
British manufacturers can develop
fast motor cars.
So he comes back, resolved to build
this track and we end up with
a two-and-three-quarter mile
concrete racetrack, 100 feet wide,
the first purpose-built motor racing
circuit in the world.
Shall we go and have a look at it?
Yeah, come aboard an earlier car
and we'll show you what it's all about.
Given how dominant trains were in
meeting Britain's transport needs
when this track was built,
only a visionary could have imagined
how far the motorcar would develop.
Brooklands cost 150,000 pounds
to build.
Equivalent to 16 million pounds today.
And it nearly bankrupted Locke King.
Steep bankings at each end allowed
the cars to corner at great speeds.
Because there was no precedent to
how you would run a motor race
on a closed circuit, the Brooklands
Automobile Racing Club just
borrowed the rules of horseracing.
So to this day in motor racing we
have the cars assembling in a paddock
under the control of the clerk of
the course, indiscretions of
the drivers are dealt with by
stewards, all of the things
that pertained in motor racing right
now will come straight from horse racing.
Fantastic.
This iconic track hosted the Junior
Car Club's famous 200 miles races
in the 1920s and '30s.
And staged the first ever British
Grand Prix in 1926.
Racing ceased at Brooklands on the
outbreak of the Second World War,
when the site was used to build
Vickers military aircraft.
Today, sections of the track remain
and I'm throwing caution to the wind
to take this beauty out for a spin.
What is this car?
A 1929 Bentley 4.5 litre,
as raced by legends of modern motor
racing like Tim Birkin.
He raced this car in the double
12 race in 1929.
Still going strong.
Still going extremely strong.
Right, so all three switches on the
right-hand side down.
All down.
- Ignition to fully retarded.
Press the starter button here.
[ENGINE IGNITES]
Takes a bit of getting used to. The
throttle is in the middle,
the brake's on the right...
Imagine streaking along the
course, 100, 120mph,
the crowds going crazy, racing green
streaking past them.
This car can easily go over 100mph,
but I'm not aiming for a
track record today.
I'm enjoying this!
Well, I'm glad you're getting to
learn a vintage motorcar
in such a wonderful, evocative
place as this.
Ah, couldn't be better, could it?
The world's first purpose-built
motor racing circuit.
One of the finest cars
ever built in Britain.
How lucky am I?
But sadly, I'm no expert at driving
this vintage vehicle.
I've out the... The throttle's
got stuck.
The throttle's got stuck.
No, throttle's got...
Yes, sorry, you knocked the
hand throttle.
On, OK.
Thank you very much, that was
a nasty moment.
As I leave the racetrack,
I make my way back
to the traintrack at Weybridge.
My next stop will be
Walton-on-Thames.
I want to look at a Victorian who
brought together in one activity
many of the fashions of the day.
An interest in nature, a wish to
escape from the urban grime,
a concern for fitness and for
manliness, and on a dull and damp day
like this, what better time to think
about camping?
Walton-on-Thames is situated on the
south-west mainline
and served by fast trains,
some of which stop only once between
here and London Waterloo.
It seems a most unlikely
place to find a campsite.
Owned by The Camping and Caravanning
Club, it's the oldest
remaining site in their network
and was established in 1913.
I'm meeting Candy Evans, who writes
for their magazine.
So people have been pitching their
tents here for more than 100 years.
How did camping as an activity
get going?
It dates back to a gentleman by the
name of Thomas Hiram Holding,
the gentleman that is sitting in
this tent here.
He had spent his early years,
the 1840s, in America,
part of the wagon trains.
And as he got older, he then went
into making tents for his own use
and for his friends and in 1901, he
combined that
with his love of cycling and started
the Association of Cycle Campers.
Born in 1844, Holding was 57 when he
formed the Association,
which started out with just 13
members.
By 1906, the association had several
hundred members
later go on to become the Camping and
Caravanning Club that we know today.
And as far as cycling and
camping is concerned,
did they have special bikes to
do that?
They did, yes.
And you can see on here that he has
special carriers for his
Primus stove and another one for
his milk bottles.
And we have actually got a
Primus here,
which dates back to those sort
of days.
I must say, I think I remember what
to do with this.
Put down the feet for it to stand on,
and you put the supports in here...
which is going to...
keep up your saucepan.
That bit screws in there...
burner sits on top...
And then I seem to remember that
you have to prime it like mad.
What else have you got here?
This looks handy.
Probably not when it's full,
Michael.
That is actually a washing-up bowl.
But obviously...
- I see.
Once a year you would
waterproof that
and you would carry your water in
this water carrier here.
Again, it would be waterproofed,
waxed once a year
and that will do you for the season.
At the turn-of-the-century,
camping as a leisure pursuit was very
much in its infancy.
Equipment had to be improvised
and the novice camper needed guidance
on how to survive the great outdoors.
Holding wrote a seminal book,
The Campers' Handbook, to impart
his many tips.
It was extremely important to
possible new campers of the day,
because it told you absolutely
everything,
everything from what to take with
you, how to transport it,
the food you might like,
through to how to deal with snorers
on the campsite.
One of the most important things
is the clothing.
I mean, here for example is
the lady with her skirt on.
"The best kind of skirt for camping
is one that finishes three inches
"off the ground and it should not be
less, nor need it be more."
So what did he think people could
get out of camping?
Well, for him, I think a lot of it
was about health.
Holding maintained that if you had
a cold when you went camping,
it would go immediately.
I think he was very much of his
time, a Victorian man for whom
the outdoors was a very important
part of life and it was very much
a case of getting people out of the
cities and into the countryside.
In those days, there were no
statutory holidays and in fact,
most of the people who could
afford to do this would
have been the upper middle class
and it was very much a case
of those people getting
out and doing what felt right.
So once he's got all this going,
how does it catch on?
Remarkably rapidly, actually.
By the time Robert Falcon Scott
goes on his ill-fated expedition
to the Antarctic, he was the
president of the club.
And by the 21 St birthday of the
club, Baden-Powell of the
Scouting movement was very heavily
involved
and had become the president.
And there's a lovely picture there
of him, obviously very relaxed
and in his element, being surrounded
by other fellow campers.
Today, the Camping and Caravanning
Club has over half a million members
and over 100 campsites the length
and breadth of Britain.
Hello!
Sorry to trouble you.
And it's come a long way from the
sheets and poles of a century ago.
Do you mind if I just sit down
for a moment?
Not at all.
- You're very welcome.
You've got a very smart motorhome.
Have you been touring long?
Over two years now.
Our three children, who we raised
in Sydney,
have all put down their roots here
and when we retired, they said,
"Mum and Dad, you've got to come
over and join us, the family's moved."
So we're partly enjoying retirement
and partly looking for somewhere
we might ultimately settle.
Are you are getting near to
making a decision?
Um...
Well, no.
- Not really.
We came over the with a list of
things we wanted to do
and after two years, the list is
even longer now,
so we haven't ultimately decided
Where we're going to settle.
We enjoy this life.
Today's campers might have
fancier equipment
and more home comforts, but the
spirit of adventure that ran
through Victorians like Thomas Hiram
Holding, endures.
During the Victorian era, those who
could afford leisure visited
the countryside using the train.
By the end of the century,
some were using bicycles to go
camping, or motorcars to tour.
The middle classes imported nature
into their urban gardens.
But they added to the
pressure on space,
as reflected by the desperate search
for places to bury the dead.
Cremation was the obvious answer,
but it required the overthrow of two
millennia of Christian theology.
Next time, I'm let loose on the
longest vine in the world.
Have you ever allowed an incompetent
like me to do this?
No! No.
[HE LAUGHS]
I get fired up, like an early
Victorian gent.
I've hit my man!
And I find how the course of British
history was set in Esher.
If Charlotte had not died, Victoria
would never have been conceived
and we'd never have had
the Victorian era.
[END THEME]