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.
Today, I'm beginning a new journey,
curving my way up the spine of England using mainly branch lines.
These tracks put local trades in touch with big markets in the city,
led to the invention of the commuter and, most importantly,
enabled the Victorian masses to explore their own country,
an experience which I'm repeating today.
On this stretch, I learn to set table aboard an ocean linen...
- Thank you very much. - You're faster than me.
...I visit a suspected Solent smuggler's hideaway...
Whoa. But what a view. Isn't that magnificent?
...and I discover the tactics employed by the Victorian temperance movement.
All of a sudden, a group of uniformed invaders come along shouting,
"Come out of the Devil's house, you're going to hell,
you will not be saved if you carry on drinking this foul liquid!"
My journey starts on the south coast,
heads to Hampshire's garrison town,
takes in the cloth makers of Newbury, an engineering triumph in Bristol,
and concludes in the West Midlands at Wolverhampton.
This leg starts amidst the luxury cruise liners in Southampton docks,
heads west to the town of Totton, southeast to Netley,
and ends in riotous Basingstoke.
My first stop today is Southampton.
Bradshaw's says that, owing to the advantageous effects of the railways,
"it's become one of our leading commercial ports
formed on a scale of great magnitude".
I first visited the city when I was a school child on a primary school outing
and I remember being so impressed by the scale of everything.
In particular, in those days, by the magnificent three-funnelled Queen Mary.
Set upon the River lichen and adjacent to the Solent,
Saxon Southampton was such an important port
that in the ninth century it had its own Royal Mint.
Famous for its docks
and as the port from which the doomed ocean liner Titanic sailed in1912,
Southampton received its railway in 1840.
But in those Victorian times, a train ride ended in a different location.
Bradshaw's refers to Southampton Terminus Station.
This is Southampton Central. Not, I think, the same place.
I'm going in search of the old station.
A merchant city for hundreds of years,
Southampton prospered during the 19th century,
importing the timber, coal and slate that would build the factories
and urban housing of southern England's Industrial Revolution.
Many of those buildings still remain.
This street, Oxford Street, has the feel and shape of a street
that Bradshaw's might have known. And, unless I'm much mistaken,
that elegant building ahead must be the old Terminus Station.
When the new docks opened in 1842, the London & South Western Railway
was here to transport passengers and freight
from Southampton Terminus Station.
Local historian Dave Marden knows more.
- Dave, hello. - Hello, Michael.
I feel a tear in my eye because this was clearly once a railway station.
Yes, it was a marvellous station at one time.
It was the main station from Southampton.
We're under the canopy. Where were the platforms?
The platforms were dead ahead. It was built in 1839
and the railway through to London was opened completely in 1840.
Southampton Terminus initially comprised
just two platforms and an engine shed,
but by the late 1860s, the opulent Imperial Hotel had been added.
Known as the Ritz of the South,
this glamorous accommodation catered for a surprising clientèle:
not travellers making connections to far-off destinations,
but fun seekers who flocked to bathe in the waters of the Solent
and to enjoy the pleasures of Southampton 's Royal Pier,
which they reached by train.
Here we are. This is what's left of the pier.
What was it like in its heyday?
It was generally referred to as the fun centre of the south.
In the Victorian period, we had the pavilion with its ballroom,
exhibitions, bandstand,
paddle steamers taking people on trips up and down the coast.
And the railway came first to the pier and then ran along the pier?
That's right. Originally they had just a bare wooden platform on the pier,
but when the pier was rebuilt in 1892
it was expanded into a double platform with canopies,
a rather grand place for stopping off and seeing the delights of the pier.
- Thanks so much, Dave. Bye. - You're welcome.
As well as a holiday destination, Southampton remained an important port.
By 1830, 100,000 people were travelling by steamship from here each year.
And in the early 20th century, the numbers taking their leave of Britain
increased dramatically as first White Star and then Cunard
made Southampton the place from which to embark
upon a transatlantic journey aboard an enormous cruise liner.
That tradition continues today.
Cunard's Queen Elizabeth has just docked.
- How are you? - Very well, Mr Portillo.
You've just come off the Queen Elizabeth?
- Yes. - How was it?
Very, very good, excellent.
- Where have you been? - The Canaries and Madeira.
- Are you habitual cruisers? - Yes.
How long before your next?
- Three weeks. - Three weeks?
- It's only a four day one. - Are you just going on?
I am going on. I'm going to have a little look around. Thank you. Bye-bye.
When you're alongside the Queen Elizabeth,
it really does inspire awe,
towering above me, as elegant as a cathedral,
as tall as an office block, as long as a train, and I get to go aboard.
In 1839, Nova Scotian Samuel Cunard
founded the British and North American Royal Mail Steam Packet Company
to transport post between Britain and North America.
As the revenue from passenger journeys
gradually outstripped that gleaned from delivering the mail,
Cunard's steamers became renowned as the fastest across the Atlantic.
In order to remain so, in the early 20th century,
the company built the super liners Mauretania and Lusitania.
The Queen Elizabeth entered Cunard's service in 2010,
a tribute to her luxurious 1938 namesake.
The first thing you come to on this ship is the grand lobby. It is spectacular.
Suspended balconies, suspended staircases, chandeliers, marble floor,
and this wonderful evocation of the old Queen Elizabeth,
the one built in the 1930s. One of the ships I remember from my childhood.
Famous as brave Second World War troop carriers,
globetrotting ships have always been glamorous, too.
Cunard's current president is Peter Shanks.
- Peter, hello. - Welcome on board.
Thank you so much. You've had a lot of very famous people on board,
all the way back into the 19th century and through the 20th.
Who might you pick out?
Well, in 1840, Charles Dickens himself sailed on the Britannia, our first ship.
We weren't particularly pleased with what he wrote about the experience.
There have been presidents, Roosevelt. Churchill was a regular traveller,
and then some famous Hollywood and British stars, be it Liz Taylor,
Laurel and Hardy, Frank Sinatra, many, many people.
Walt Disney himself loved to travel on the Queen Elizabeth.
Each voyage of the Queen Elizabeth
sees the consumption oi almost 12,000 bottles of wine,
nearly 5,000 toothpicks and more than 50,000 eggs.
Resupplying and making ready for each sailing is a mammoth task.
Now, as I came on the ship people were leaving, they'd come off the cruise.
How long is it until you'll get a new set of people and you'll be off again?
Two thousand people have left by about 10 o'clock
and we'll sail at half past four, full with a new 2,000 people.
In that time, we're working miracles with the team to get everything ready.
That's an amazing rate of turnaround. How on earth do you do it?
I thought we could have some fun by asking you to help do it, Michael,
and what better way than to ask our maître d' to help you lay a table
- and see how we get on. - Welcome aboard, sir.
It's lovely to see you. What do I do, then?
Well, this is a set of our cutleries here.
If you like to help me out, you start from the other side,
I will take a set and I will start from this side.
OK, and I suppose speed is important here.
Speed is important, sir. Very good, sir. Fork goes on your left.
- Spoon on the right... - Soup spoon, sir.
- Soup spoon, right. - We can put our dessert cutlery on top.
- Now the side knife. - You haven't given me any side...
Oh, yes, you have. There we are. Thank you very much.
You're faster than me.
Bravo.
- Very well done, sir. - Thank you very much.
Now, the table isn't complete.
- We don't have any napkins. - We'll be doing some napkins.
So we're going to fold the napkin into half.
OK, you can use a chair if you like so it will be easy for you.
Now, you have to synchronise yourself. One up, one down, one up, one down,
and the pleats should be nice, and the same of size.
Leave a little gap.
I think mine's going a little bit wonky.
Turn into half. Very good.
This little quarter of napkin that's left, we're going to tuck it in.
Tuck it in.
Napkin is ready. Oh, yes.
Oh, dear. A little more practice, I think.
Sanjay, that's absolutely brilliant. That looks beautiful.
The opulence of the Queen Elizabeth is a reminder that,
for those who could afford it,
passage aboard a liner was a luxurious experience.
But they were the lucky few because in Bradshaw's day most travelled steerage.
Your theatre is superb. But it makes me think, amidst all this elegance,
of people who travelled in less fortunate times.
They were emigrating away from starvation and famine in Europe.
Yes, many to North America
and we think that over our history, over the last 170 years,
around ten million people have emigrated to North America through Cunard line.
- Here we are on the bridge. - It's an amazing space, isn't it?
What a fantastic position from which to control this monster ship.
This is our captain, Alistair Clark.
Hello, sir. I find it quite alarming to park a small BMW.
What does it feel like to bring one of these things alongside?
It's a very satisfying experience.
And these really rather small levers control the whole ship, do they?
These do, so although they're small,
it's like power steering in your car, you don't need to move them far.
- Just a little wiggle. - Just a little.
If you've got a choppy sea, what do you do about maintaining stability?
Well, we have stabilisers which counteract any roll
but generally the ship is an excellent sea ship
and she rides very well.
As the Queen Elizabeth sets off on another voyage,
after a long day in this city it's time for me to head to my next destination.
As my evening train runs alongside Southampton's busy port
I thought I would find somewhere more rural to seek my rest
and Bradshaw's tells me there are seats, meaning country houses,
"and pretty spots in the neighbourhood such as Eaglehurst near Calshot Castle."
Eaglehurst. That sounds like a pleasant estate
and there I shall spend the night.
Travelling just three stops on the mainline toward Poole,
I've crossed the River Test
and I'm alighting at Totton Station to make my way to Eaglehurst.
But my overnight bolthole is not the grand bungalow
built here by the 7th Earl of Cavan.
My bed for the night lies within a tower
whose history is known to Caroline Stanford from the Landmark Trust.
- Caroline, hello. - Hello.
Well, what is this? It looks to me like a folly.
Yes, welcome to Luttrell's Tower. It is indeed a folly,
castellated, 18th-century rather picturesque tower
- standing on the edge of the Solent. - And named after?
It's named after Temple Simon Luttrell,
who was the gentleman who built it.
He came from an Irish family of slightly disreputable figures.
He was a very, very quarrelsome, cantankerous fellow,
so he challenged lots of people to duels, including his own son even.
Temple Luttrell wasn't just a parliamentarian who liked a duel.
He was also a suspected smuggler whose folly comprises a tower
reaching high into the sky for a bird's eye of view of local shipping
and a tunnel leading suspiciously to the shore of the Solent.
So do come in.
Surprisingly tall tower when you're going up the steps.
I'm sure the view is going to make it absolutely worthwhile.
When we get to the very top.
And here we are.
- Right on the top. - It's smaller than I thought.
Whoa, but what a view. Isn't that magnificent?
It's rather wonderful. You can see why he built it here.
Yeah, as follies go it's really worthwhile.
It's such a great place to watch the great liners and ships go by.
Yes, there have been some very famous ships,
including the Titanic.
Radio pioneer Marconi rented Eaglehurst for his radio experiments
and his wife and his daughter stood where we're standing now,
as the Titanic sailed from Southampton on her doomed maiden voyage,
and waved together a red silk scarf,
with all the passengers on the ship waving back at them
with handkerchiefs and scarves as well.
That's a sad story. And did the Victorians like this tower?
Yes, even Queen Victoria liked this tower.
As a young princess she looked at it and seriously considered buying the estate
before she found Osborne House on the Isle of Wight.
I'm really delighted
to have found such a beautiful place to spend the night.
Apart from the perfect porridge, this is perfection in every other way.
The sun is streaming through the windows,
the view of the Solent is beautiful
and a few hardy souls are already out in their sailing boats
just to decorate the view.
Fully-fuelled and ready for the day ahead,
I'm heading back to Southampton Central
to catch a connection to my next destination,
located about 20 minutes southeast towards Portsmouth,
a line my that guidebook recommends for its aesthetic charms.
Bradshaw has beautiful descriptions.
"On each side breaks in a view of the Southampton sea,
deep blue, glistening with silver and vessels."
I'm headed now to Netley.
Bradshaw's tells me that near the ruins of the old abbey
"a noble military college has recently been erected,"
and the drum leads me in that direction.
Tickets, please.
- Thank you very much, sir. - Going as far as Netley.
- OK, nice day for it. - Do you remember a hospital there?
Yes, there was a wartime military hospital at Netley.
- The chapel is still left there. - Interesting history, eh?
- Indeed, certainly. Have a good day. - Thank you very much indeed.
Upset by the poor standard oi care she saw in Chatham
on a visit to see soldiers wounded in the Crimean War,
Queen Victoria spearheaded the development of an institution
that would revolutionise the treatment of injured troops.
Commissioned in 1856 and set within 200 acres,
the enormous Royal Victoria Hospital took seven years to build.
Deemed too costly to run, in 1966 the hospital was demolished
and only the chapel remains.
But curator Captain Pete Starling knows what once stood here.
- Hello, Pete. - Good morning. Nice to meet you.
- This was a military hospital here. - It was.
It was our first purpose-built military hospital.
- It was a quarter of a mile long. - Amazing.
A hundred and thirty eight wards and a thousand beds.
If we look down, you can see this line of bricks here.
Well, this is the extremity of the hospital.
So if we now look at the chapel and look that way
you'll see that is actually in the centre of where the hospital was.
So you've got the same distance from here to the chapel the other side
and that gives you some sense on the size of it.
Awe inspiring. It's in a somewhat remote spot.
How did they bring the wounded men here?
In its heyday, they brought them here by train.
At the time of the South African war, 1899 to 1902,
they extended the railway line from Netley into the back of the hospital
and they had this purpose-built covered platform
and these ambulance wagons would be shunted up to the back of the hospital.
All the patients would be offloaded and wheeled in to the reception.
At a time when many thought that faith was as powerful a healer as medicine,
the chapel, big enough to house all 1,000 patients,
was at the heart of the hospital.
Even the tower in the chapel is enormous
and it gives you a spectacular view, doesn't it?
- Magnificent, isn't it? - Particularly over the Solent.
You have to admire the scale of what they attempted to do here.
Even if we can't see most of the hospital now,
we could attempt to listen to at least one of its sounds.
But not everyone was impressed.
Florence Nightingale voiced serious concern that Netley's cramped wards,
long corridors and lack of ventilation
were a perfect breeding ground for infection.
But the Lady of the Lamp's warnings went unheeded
and Queen Victoria herself laid the institution's foundation stone.
As she was about to lay the foundation stone,
she placed beneath it a copper casket, and we've got the copper casket here,
with one or two objects that were placed inside it.
- A sort of time capsule? - Yes.
She put plans of the hospital inside it, she put coins of the realm,
a Crimean war medal with the four bars commemorating
the four great battles on land of the war.
But, more importantly, the Victoria Cross.
The Victoria Cross,
the highest award for gallantry in the armed forces.
Absolutely. This was one of the first Victoria Crosses ever made
and she placed it in this copper box with that Crimean medal
and it was put beneath the foundation stone
and the foundation stone was lowered onto the top of it.
Amazing.
The wounded of two world wars passed through the wards of this hospital
and it's become a place of homage.
You've been showing a lot of interest in the chapel today,
do you have a special reason for being here?
Yes, I have memories of my grandfather.
He was shell-shocked during the First World War
and he was in Netley Hospital for quite a long time.
And because we're on holiday here I wanted to see Netley Hospital.
Where had he been in combat?
In France.
I remember hearing him speaking about Mons and the Somme.
And you're clutching some old looking photographs there. What do they show?
Yes, there is this photograph of my grandfather in hospital.
This X is my grandfather. He was in the Black Watch.
- And here in Netley, this? - Yes,
because on the back of the photograph this writing is very old writing.
- Yes. - "Willie in Netley Hospital."
"Willie in Netley Hospital." Absolutely clear.
How does it... There's only the chapel left, but you are in the place
where your grandfather was hospitalised. How does that feel?
Well, I feel a bit emotional. I was only 15 when he died.
Oh, well, I've met you on a special day. Thank you for talking.
- Thank you, it's a privilege. - And a safe journey back to Aberdeen.
- Thank you very much. - Bye-bye.
Bradshaw's is not entirely complimentary about my next stop.
"Basingstoke is a straggling, ill-built town."
"It is nevertheless a place of great antiquity
and appears in The Domesday Book."
"The inhabitants now mainly depend on the corn and malt trades."
And at this stage of the day I fancy a cooling glass of beer.
In the middle ages, the small market town of Basingstoke
grew prosperous on wool and textiles,
and by the 18th century its location made it an important watering hole
for the many stage coaches heading south and west from London.
Breweries sprang up to quench the thirst of travellers.
Although the railway's arrival in 1839 saw the trade decline,
in the 1880s there were still four breweries
and almost 60 pubs in a town of less than 7,000 inhabitants.
It was a boozy place,
which soon attracted the attention of the growing temperance movement.
I'm meeting local historian Bob Clarke to find out about an incident
that placed Basingstoke firmly on the moral map of Bradshaw's Britain.
Well, Bob, you've chosen a lovely quiet spot for a glass of beer.
But it wouldn't have been like this back in 1881.
Can you imagine we're just sitting here enjoying our beer quietly,
all of a sudden a group of uniformed invaders come along,
dressed in quasi-army uniforms banging a big bass drum shouting,
"Come out of the devil's house, you're going to hell,
you will not be saved if you carry on drinking this foul liquid!"
You're referring to the Salvation Army, aren't you?
I am indeed, but the Salvation Army is not as we now know it,
a benign organisation that does a lot of useful social work.
They wanted to ban all drink
and, of course, because there were so many people
who were dependent on drink for their livelihood in the town
they felt under threat, so there was a kind of war between the two sides.
In 1818, William Booth's Christian Mission
changed its name to the Salvation Army and declared war on sin.
In 1880, Christian soldiers marched onward into Basingstoke
where local brewers had whipped up the so-called Massagainians,
a mob to disrupt Heath's campaign against beer
and drinking establishments.
In March 1881, matters came to a head in an incident
that became known nationally as The Battle of Church Square.
In the morning, the two armies clashed.
Charles Elms, described in court as a muscular Salvationist,
managed to wrest the Massaganians' Union Jack, their flag of honour, from them
and that really started the fighting.
There was fighting in the morning.
Charles Elms, for his pains, got his arm broken,
people tumbling over, one poor soul went through a plate glass window of a shop.
The poor chap who had his arm broken in the morning
had his head broken in the afternoon
when somebody hit him over the head with a stick.
Somebody else had his jaw broken.
Apparently lots of people lost lots of teeth.
This is the most extraordinary and, to me, completely unknown story.
What were its consequences?
Well, its consequences were that Basingstoke,
which nobody had heard of before, made headlines in the national press.
One journalist described Basingstoke as "a benighted little town
that appears to be populated chiefly by a set of barbarians".
Now that's fame!
Thank goodness, Bob, you've shaken off that reputation since.
And was this riot unique to Basingstoke?
Oh, no, there were riots in 60 towns. But Basingstoke was the first.
Where Basingstoke leads, other towns follow.
One of the great ocean liners sailing from Southampton
bears the name of Queen Victoria.
She made her home on the Isle of Wight
from which she could contemplate the Solent,
sharing a view with those of her soldiers
who'd been wounded fighting to defend her Empire.
I thought I knew the names of the great battles of her reign;
Balaclava, Khartoum and Mafeking,
but now I can add another to the roll call.
The Battle of Church Square, Basingstoke.
Next time, I encounter the Duke of Wellington's impressive funeral can...
It is the most colossal thing, isn't it? Absolutely enormous.
...l get my marching orders from the army...
Get those knees up, Portillo! Get those knees up nice and high!
“and I learn of the surprisingly enlightened 19th-century attitude
towards the criminally insane.
What the Victorians did was they established
that people with mental illness who committed crime needed health care.
They needed a hospital, not a prison.