In 1840, one man transformed travel in Britain.
His name was George Bradshaw
and his railway guides inspired the Victorians to take to the tracks.
Stop by stop, he told them where to go, what to see and where to stay.
And now, 110 years later,
I'm aboard for a series of rail adventures across the United Kingdom
to see what of Bradshaw's Britain remains.
During the course of my journeys, I've often been struck
by how the Victorians pushed out the boundaries of human knowledge.
Today I want to see how subsequent generations
inherited their spirit
with new things being discovered and indeed unearthed.
All this week,
I've been travelling away from the capital and its toiling masses,
heading north on Stephenson 's London-to-Birmingham line.
I have yet to explore the Victorian manufacturing hub of the East Midlands
before ending my journey in the Yorkshire city of Leeds.
On today's journey I travel
on the first Victorian main line through Leicestershire to Rothley
to meet up with the last main line to be built.
And then, it's a short hop to Loughborough.
On this leg of the journey,
I swap hats and view life from the other side of the tracks,“...
Rothley! This is Rothley! All aboard!
...l discover an astronomical invention that gave Hollywood a facelift...
- Am I on the dot? - Yes, you are indeed.
I never expected to get that right.
...and my mettle is tested at the world's largest bell foundry.
To say I'm out of my comfort zone is to put it mildly.
There is molten metal leaping around in the room.
As we approach Leicester, my Bradshaw's reminds me
that "the famous crook-backed King Richard Ill
was brought here after the Battle of Bosworth Field,
and buried at the Grey Priory."
Nowadays we can find out whether Bradshaw's was right.
My guidebook also quotes Shakespeare
whose view of Richard was that he was a vile swine.
Both the Victorians and indeed I
have been greatly influenced in our view of Richard by the Bard.
The Bard and Bradshaw would be amazed that, centuries later,
the body of Richard would be discovered in a car park.
Leicester Station is going to be our final destination.
Richard of York, later Richard Ill,
was named protector of two princes, his nephews.
To secure his succession to the throne,
it's rumoured that he had them murdered in the Tower of London.
I'm interested to know whether Shakespeare's view of Richard
is supported by historical fact.
I'm meeting Professor Gail Marshall from Leicester University
in the historic New Walk area of the city.
Bradshaw's quotes Shakespeare's view of Richard Ill
as a vile swine; a pretty negative view.
Was that the settled view of the time?
Well, it was the view that he attributes to the Earl of Richmond
who'd later become Henry VII, so it's very much the Tudor view.
But what Shakespeare does,
which is quite interesting, is add to that considerably.
He makes Richard a more interesting villain.
He gives him the most tremendous linguistic resources,
he gives him a limp as well,
but the linguistic resources are the things
that captured the Elizabethans' imagination
and still capture our imagination
and captured Bradshaw's imagination, too.
Do we know yet whether Richard Ill was a villain?
I don't think we can possibly know that. The sources are so contradictory.
What we know is that Shakespeare's version of Richard as a great villain,
though an interesting villain, is one that's persisted.
But I think what we can also think about now, uniquely,
is the new source that we've got
which is the very source of Richard's own body
which has just been discovered.
And I think that that visual image we have of the skeleton
is possibly something that might begin to dispel
our sense of Richard as a rather... as a simply villainous character.
It's truly remarkable that 528 years later,
we have this new evidence.
There were indications that Richard's body had been buried in Leicester
in Grey Friar's Friary.
Today there's nothing left of the friary,
so looking for his body was like looking for a needle in a haystack.
But under this white marquee in a council car park
turned out to he the spot.
Very kindly, the Leicester University archaeologists
Richard Buckley and Matthew Morris
have agreed to meet me at the site of their great discovery.
- So who actually found him? - That'll be me.
- Were you looking for him? - Well, yes and no.
The project was looking with the hope of finding him,
but it was always going to be a long shot.
There was no way we knew we were going to find him
within the first couple of hours of the excavation.
It wasn't until we'd literally found the vertebrae
that we actually suddenly sort of had a dawning realisation
that actually this could be who we were looking for all along.
Because it had this S-curvature?
And it was a really obvious S-curvature in the ground.
You couldn't mistake it for anything other than scoliosis.
And had it been assumed that Shakespeare was right,
that Richard had this disability?
We came into it with an open mind.
We thought we might excavate up to six sets of remains
of individuals who were males, of course,
and we might be lucky to find some evidence
that one of them died in battle.
We didn't think for a minute we would find an individual
who had such obvious characteristics like the scoliosis.
The other obvious indicators were the injuries that Richard sustained
at the Battle of Bosworth Field in 1485.
Fighting his Lancastrian rival, Henry Tudor,
some of his army defected, leaving Richard vulnerable.
He suffered numerous blows to the head.
His naked body was then paraded through Leicester.
How lucky was it that you discovered that bone?
Incredibly lucky.
I mean, we always planned on putting a trench broadly here,
but the minutiae of the placement,
50 centimetres here, 50 centimetres there.
And you can see, that was the edge of our original trench.
If I'd moved it slightly further that way,
we'd have missed him entirely.
All of this is a modern cellar
and came to within that far above his legs.
If they'd dug it any deeper than they had,
we wouldn't have had him from the waist down at the very least.
If they'd made it slightly wider, we might not have had him at all.
Extraordinary.
Remarkably, it was world-renowned work on DNA done over many years
that enabled scientists to provide comprehensive proof
that this was the lost king of England
and that he'd died a bloody death aged 32.
I'm meeting Professor Schürer
at Leicester University's Genetics Department
where Richard's body was sent for DNA profiling.
Now, I believe that DNA was discovered about half a century ago, wasn't it?
But a great breakthrough was made at the University of Leicester, wasn't it?
Absolutely. In fact, at 9:05 on September 10th, 1984,
now Sir Alec Jeffreys had an absolute breakthrough
when he realised that DNA could be fingerprinted in such a way
that meant that everybody had an individual marker.
I can see why they'd bring the bones for DNA testing,
but what I don't understand is how they'd identify the DNA as Richard's.
It's important to realise
there are two fundamental parts of our DNA
that are inherited from our father, which is the Y chromosome.
That passes from father to son, father to son, father to son,
and from our mother, we inherit DNA,
both sons and daughters inherit mitochondrial DNA.
But only women can pass it on.
So what we were able to do was to trace living modern-day descendants
through Anne of York, his eldest sister.
So was this another fantastic chance that there was a daughter,
followed by a daughter, followed by a daughter?
It's so much of a chance,
had we actually discovered the skeleton maybe in 30 or 40 years' time,
that line would have died out.
All of the living-day descendants of Anne of York
are the last of their line.
They will not be passing on mitochondrial DNA to a next generation.
This is the stuff of fiction. Absolutely extraordinary.
Anne died giving birth to her only daughter from her second marriage,
Anne St Leger. But in each successive generation after,
there was a daughter followed by a daughter.
In fact, Professor Schürer already knew about Canadian furniture maker,
Michael Ibsen, descended through 17 generations.
But he was also able to trace another living descendant of Anne
who remains anonymous.
Testing both their DNAs gave Schürer proof positive.
When we first of all realised that A, those two people matched
who had never met in their lives, had no idea of their existence,
and then of course, the whole thing triangulated
with the mitochondrial DNA extracted from the skeleton.
And that was another eureka moment.
So, you had two people whose DNA matched,
then you bring the sample from the bone and it matches, too?
- Indeed. - Closely?
Very, very closely. Yes.
No doubt about it, the fellow in the car park is Richard Ill.
The fellow in the car park is Richard Ill.
I find the fortuitous discovery of Richard and the happy coincidences
that allowed the university to offer proof of his identity really exciting.
A modern Bradshaw would surely recommend a visit to Leicester
to understand how science can make history live
and solve the puzzles that have perplexed us for centuries.
Much as I'd like to discover more, I must travel on,
just seven minutes down the line.
My next stop will be Syston, known to Bradshaw's as Syston Junction,
where I intend to focus on a Victorian invention
which has since stolen the limelight.
Syston was noteworthy enough to get a mention in the Domesday Book.
And the town is now known for the part it played in photography.
In the 1800s, the Victorians rapidly developed photography.
And Cooke Optics became renowned
for creating the triplet lens that eliminated fuzzy photos.
From its historic Stoughton Street factory,
its lenses were exported all around the world.
Today it's still one of the top lens suppliers to Hollywood
and I'm meeting its chief operating officer, Alan Merrells.
How did you first get involved with Hollywood, then?
The defining point really was when films became talkies
and were no longer silent.
The silent movies were lit by arc lights which were extremely noisy.
So you had to invent the silent light?
Well, we didn't invent the silent light,
but we actually had a lens that allowed a lot more light through
and it enabled cinematographers to use a lower level of light
to shoot the movies.
- What's going on here? - This is traditional polishing.
It's been done like this for hundreds of years, really.
It's quite an old machine but we're using traditional techniques.
Using multiple lenses in a block here.
It's being actually polished with a pitch polisher.
This goes back hundreds of years how we polish this.
It's basically jeweller's rouge.
I suppose we're talking minute degrees of accuracy.
Correct. Approximately a millionth of an inch.
Fantastic. Thank you very much indeed.
What makes the triplet special
is that it's made up of three precision lenses,
and as you focus the camera,
the three work together to bring the picture into focus.
It became the lens of choice
for professional photographers like Frank Hurley
who, in 1914, followed Ernest Shackleton
on his expedition to the South Pole.
Today, the skills of these Leicestershire craftsmen
are still highly prized,
creating the Cooke Look with their finest prime lenses.
So what exactly are you up to here?
What I'm doing at the moment is calibrating the focus lens.
And each focus lens has been calibrated,
so what you do is, ten foot reads ten foot.
- Are you doing that by eye? - We are indeed.
- How long have you been doing this? - I've been doing it for 15 years.
- Can I do it for 15 seconds? - Of course you can.
- I'll move it. - So what do I have to do?
Just focus a Siemens star. Can you see an image there?
I can see... Yeah, a kind of fan shape.
- If I move it, it'll disappear. - Yeah.
Now you try and focus it.
I can see a star and I've got to bring that into focus.
That's what you're looking for, a sharp image.
OK, so I'll over-correct, so I don't go beyond it.
That's gone beyond it.
- Until you get a sharp image. - How's that?
- You look at it yourself. - Am I on the dot?
Yes, you are indeed.
I never expected to get that right. Wow.
I'm beginning to feel a whole new career coming on,
this time on the other side of the camera.
I can also see why the lenses have such an impressive filmography,
everything from James Bond to Harry Potter.
And in recognition of their 120 years of service to Hollywood,
they have just been awarded an Oscar.
For the team here in Leicester,
many of whom are second- and third-generation Cooke employees,
it's a huge honour.
As the day draws to an end, I'm going to alight at Sileby Station.
Bradshaw's tells me that in the vicinity
is Mountsorrel, a lovely spot,
and draws attention to Rothley Temple belonging to J Parker Esq.
A good place to spend the night.
I'll be interested to know how Rothley found its way
not only into Bradshaw's but also into the history books.
From 1231, Rothley was home to the Knights Templar
who were rectors of the magnificent Catholic church.
After their demise,
the Babington family began their eight generations of residence until 1845.
Then the manor was sold off to J Parker, an eminent local QC.
Today, Rothley Manor is a hotel
and the perfect place to break my journey.
I've found my spot in Leicestershire to take my rest.
Richard Ill lay undisturbed for 528 years.
I hope to wake in the morning.
I'm up early because I have a special date at a very special station.
You won't find Rothley on the map, or in "Bradshaw's".
This line, which was originally part of the Great Central Railway,
was built by entrepreneur Sir Edward Watkin,
to provide a more direct line from London Marylebone
to Sheffield and Manchester.
He also had ambitions that his line would make it to France.
While it didn't survive long enough to make it across the Channel,
it owes its life today to a group of enthusiasts who saved it.
- Hello, Richard. - Morning, Michael.
- Good to see you. - And yourself. Sit down.
Now, this railway station, Rothley, is not in my Bradshaw's guide,
presumably then, because this line was built later than the 1860s?
A lot later.
It only opened in about 1900 and it survived for barely 60 years
before British Railways closed it.
How does it come to be reopened again?
Around about 1969, a preservation scheme was developed
by a small group of enthusiasts and 44 years later,
here we are today with eight miles of double-track railway.
Trains can pass each other
rather than having to wait in passing loops at stations.
And you're capable of pretty high speeds as well?
Yes, at times we do testing of steam locos
up to 60 miles an hour.
That must be very good fun. You must love doing that.
Absolutely.
Today, thanks to the passion and enthusiasm
of Richard and the Great Central Railway Heritage Trust
there are six working steam locomotives and 1'! carriages.
I've offered to work my passage to Loughborough
behind the King Edward II.
Rothley! This is Rothley!
All aboard for Quorn and Woodhouse and Loughborough Central!
I knew those years of shouting in Parliament
would come in handy.
This majestic King-class locomotive was built in Swindon in 1930
for the Great Western Railway
and was withdrawn from service only in 1962.
- Tickets, please. Tickets, please. - Good morning to you.
I hope you're enjoying your ride.
We have, we've had a lovely breakfast.
We'll be relaxing for the rest of the day.
- Just check you're... - It is today's.
Check you're legitimate.
- And I am a member. - I think we'll put a hole in there.
Yes, you can do that. I'll keep that one.
It won't work in that one.
I don't think I can put a hole in that one.
In steam's heyday, a key part of the service
was providing passengers with hot cooked food.
Keeping up with tradition, today's menus sound very tempting.
Sweet capsicum terrine with basil vinaigrette
followed by pan-fried sea trout and gateau.
I have a reservation with resident chef, Liam Tinsley.
- This is a vintage kitchen, isn't it? - Yes.
What's the most you can produce here?
A seven-course meal on Saturday nights.
A seven-course meal? For how many people?
- 80. - 80. That's absolutely fantastic.
How long have you been on the trains? You're a young man.
I've been coming down since I was eight.
I've been cooking since I was 16. I've gone through an apprenticeship.
- I'm now an NVQ level 2 qualified chef. - You're enjoying it, evidently.
- Oh, yeah. - Fantastic. I wish I had time to stay.
That's OK. Nice meeting you.
I wish I could have a seven-course meal. Bye-bye, Liam.
Bye, thank you.
Thanks to people power, this line has been saved
and transformed into something special.
In the future, the trust hopes to turn the southern terminus
into a branch of the National Railway Museum.
And the northern terminus is my next destination, Loughborough.
There was another sound
as evocative of the 19th century as the locomotive whistle.
From factories and churches, village halls and schools,
you could hear the sound of the bell.
And here at Loughborough is the place where the story can be told.
It was a Loughborough parish church
which invited the world's largest bell foundry to setup business in the town.
In 1839, they commissioned John Taylor & Co to cast their bells,
that they make them in Loughborough.
The company moved and has been here since,
sending bells all over the country
thanks to the closeness of the railway line.
I'm meeting one of the directors, Andrew Higson.
What an amazing sight.
I feel as if I've walked into a painting, into another century.
- An industrial cathedral. - That's very well put.
So what goes on here? These things with holes in cannot be bells.
No, they're not bells. These are the cases in which we mould the bells.
They've got holes in them
so that the loam, which is the moulding material, binds to it.
And each size of bell that we make, we've got a different size case for.
This is the moulding process actually in action.
You can that Bill is slapping what looks like mud
on the inside of this case.
Hello, Bill. What is this gooey substance made of?
Three kinds of sand, goat hair and horse manure.
- And what? - Horse manure.
- Horse manure? - Yeah.
Goat hair.
These are the vital ingredients, are they?
- They are. - Stood the test of time.
Well, there's nothing better.
Why would a mixture of sand and horse manure be the right lining
if you're putting in hot molten metal?
The clay and the sand, and the horse manure has uric acid in it
and that acts as a plasticiser.
And the horses chew the straw into really short pieces
and they lattice across and it forms a really good bond.
And when it's dry, it's as hard as anything you like.
It's like a semi-ceramic.
Getting the loam's consistency and thickness just right
takes all of Bill's 27 years' experience
of making bells of every size and type.
Now it's my turn to get my hands dirty.
I love the smell of uric acid in the morning.
Apply it there and work it towards me. So slap it down hard.
The bell I'm helping to make is for ringing in peal,
and at over three foot wide, it's about average for this foundry.
When it's rung, it sounds the note of A flat.
At just under half a ton,
this mighty ringer is destined for a church in Guildford.
- Now turn the strickle. - Your what?
Strickle. This is what this implement's called.
Right.
Oh, yes. Look at the lovely shape of bell you're creating with your strickle.
Get these beautiful lines,
and that's all going to be reflected in the bell you're going to cast.
Once made, the mould is left for a week
then fired for another week in the gas drying stove.
Then it's ready for the cast.
Copper and tin are used to smelt the bell
in a process that hasn't changed in centuries.
This is obviously the most fantastic temperature.
Whoa! Look at that.
To say I'm out of my comfort zone is to put it mildly.
There is molten metal leaping around in the room.
- What does this weigh, Roger? - About 50 kilos there.
- Is there a technique to lifting it? - Just keep it level, OK?
I'm definitely on the fast track for apprentices.
Was pouring 50 kilos of molten metal in my contract?
- Superb. - Wow, look at that.
I never thought I'd stand this close to molten metal.
OK.
The heat coming off it is absolutely fantastic.
I can feel it through my visor, under my visor.
Take it easy, Roger. Thank you. Are you ready now?
OK. There it is, bubbling down into the moulds.
- Back in the ring? - Take them down.
- Down? - Yeah.
- That's fine. - Oh, my God.
When you take the visor off, you really do feel the heat,
now coming from all these moulds
as well as from the crucible, the heating pot.
- So what's actually in there, Roger? - It's all hand bells.
Well, ding-a-ling-a-ling.
it's uplifting to view a craft that has passed down the generations.
But the foundry also has a sad tale to tell.
During the First World War,
three of John William Taylor's sons were killed in action.
In celebration of their lives
and those of other young men who died in the Great War,
Taylor and local townspeople created a memorial.
This memorial bell tower in Loughborough's Queen's Park
houses a musical instrument called a carillon.
It's like an organ, with bells instead of pipes.
I'm going right to the top to meet Caroline Sharpe, the carillonneur.
Hello. Come and join me.
Amazing instrument. What were you playing by the way?
I was playing a piece by Sir Edward Elgar called Memorial Chimes.
It's a piece of music that was written specifically for this carillon
to be played in the opening ceremony of when it opened in 1923.
- Are there many in Britain? - There's 15 carillons in the UK.
This one's particularly unique,
because it's the only one that was built specifically to house the bells
and house the carillon, so you could say the whole building is the instrument.
Bells are rung by forcing a clapper down onto the bell
from levers at a keyboard or clavier.
And I couldn't leave Loughborough, or indeed Taylor's,
without trying the bells, even if it's only a nursery rhyme.
One, two, three, four.
Brilliant.
What fun! You can make such a lot of noise.
You can. You feel very powerful up here.
I'm going to go and listen to it from outside.
Thank you so much, Caroline.
In Hollywood, the craftsmen of a small Leicester company are winning Oscars.
I was moved to stand by the car park grave of King Richard Ill
and to view his life through a Victorian lens.
One thing's for certain,
if the Great Central Railway could be disinterred,
all over England it would set the bells ringing.
On my next leg of my journey,
I see the grand designs of a Victorian Duke...
Derek, this building is huge.
When it was built, it was the largest in Europe
with the exception of the Manege next to the Kremlin in Moscow.
...I discover a treasure trove of locomotive history...
This I do not believe!
Every square inch of wall is filled with railway memorabilia.
...and I break a leg on the stage in Leeds.
Welcome to this Valhalla of Victorian variety.
Bravo!