In 1840, one man transformed travel in the British Isles.
His name was George Bradshaw
and his railway guides inspired the Victorians to take to the tracks.
Stop by stop, he told them where to travel, what to see,
and where to stay.
Now, 170 years later,
I'm making a series of journeys
across the length and breadth of these isles
to see what of Bradshaw's Britain remains.
I've embarked on a new railway journey
to rural and coastal Scotland.
At the beginning of the 19th century,
much of this country was remote wilderness
which rarely attracted outside visitors.
But in Queen Victoria's reign, with the railways,
the landscape was opened up,
linking communities, developing industries
and providing secure and affordable routes for travellers
to reach even the most northerly parts of her kingdom.
The first leg of this journey meets a Scottish hero...
You have to remember there's a cult of Wallace going around. He's an iconic figure.
He has been ever since his death, or martyrdom, in 1305.
..continues with a bang..
..and ends in tragedy.
And then the whole train descended into the water?
The whole train descended, everybody was killed.
The photographs show that really large bits of cast iron
were bent and twisted. The impact must have been ferocious.
Using my 1880s Bradshaw's, my journey starts in Stirling,
heads north to Perthshire, onto the granite city of Aberdeen
and then west, through Inverness-shire,
to the famous lochs of the Highlands
before reaching its end at John o' Groats.
Today's leg begins in Stirling, at the heart of Scottish history,
heads to "The Fair City" of Perth,
then on to Dunkeld and Birnam,
ending at Invergowrie on the banks of the River Tay.
For this Scottish journey,
I'm using an 1880s version of my Bradshaw's guide.
I'm now heading across the lowlands of Scotland towards Stirling,
which my Bradshaw's tells me was...
"The ancient seat of the Scottish kings
"and capital of Stirlingshire,
"situated on a beautiful part of the Forth
"about halfway between Edinburgh and Perth."
"On a rock above the town rises the castle of Stirling
"so celebrated in Scottish history."
And I want to find out why it played such a pivotal role.
In the 19th century, trade, particularly in agriculture,
provided Stirling with an injection of wealth -
an economic boom strengthened with the arrival of the railways in 1848.
Although Stirling is the smallest city in Scotland,
its castle has a big history.
From medieval times until Bonnie Prince Charlie's failed siege
in the 18th century, it's been the focus of military campaigns.
I'm hoping that castle steward Alan Clater can tell me why.
Alan, hello. Nice to meet you. Nice to meet you.
My Bradshaw's says that Stirling is a key to the Highlands,
in an important position, frequently contested.
Why was it so very, very key?
Well, the town of Stirling is located right in the heart of Scotland,
it's slap-bang in the middle of the country
and it's really because of its location that they built a castle,
a fortress, high up here in this volcanic rock,
a strategic position second to none.
In Bradshaw's day, the romanticised version of history
in Sir Walter Scott's novels was a very popular read
and the railways brought tourists keen to visit
where the action in the books had occurred.
During the Wars of Independence,
the castle passed between English and Scottish control many times,
and most of its conquerors added to its fortifications,
from which you feel as though
you are looking out over Scottish history.
Six major battles have been fought around these walls -
the Battle of Stirling Bridge,
the Battle of Bannockburn, the Battle of Sauchieburn,
two battles at Falkirk
and the battle of Sheriffmuir in 1715.
How many of those battles were between the English and the Scottish?
Really three of them, three of them during the Wars of Independence -
the Battle of Stirling Bridge, Bannockburn,
and the first battle of Falkirk.
Around the year 1500, James IV of Scotland
built this impressive forework around the castle entrance.
The palace sits 250 feet above the plain,
giving panoramic views of the surrounding terrain.
And here in the middle of the valley, there's a very prominent tower. What is that?
Ah, that's the National Wallace Monument.
This was erected in 1869 to commemorate Wallace's great victory
over the English at Stirling Bridge. William Wallace.
I couldn't come to Stirling without visiting that, could I?
No, you must.
The strategic importance of Stirling in medieval history
is reflected in the key battles that were fought in and around the city.
Today, even from far off,
the Wallace Monument is an impressive tribute
to one of Scotland's favourite sons
and his victory at the Battle of Stirling Bridge.
My Bradshaw's tells me, "About one and a half miles up the river
"is the site where Kildean Bridge stood,
"a place where William Wallace defeated the English in 1297.
"The Wallace Memorial is a high tower on Abbey Craig,
"a rock 560 feet high."
And it's Victorian,
so it wasn't just with Mel Gibson and the movie Braveheart
that William Wallace was first commemorated.
There are 246 steps to the top,
which is a way of ensuring that only hearts beating with Scottish pride will make it.
'Pride that I'm sure historian Scott McMaster has in abundance.'
Scott. Hi. It's worth the climb, isn't it?
It certainly is for the view, that's for sure.
Now, it intrigues me, this is a Victorian monument.
Was the Victorian era an age of Scottish nationalism,
Scottish sentiment?
I think there was an element of that, but what you have to remember is
there's a cult of Wallace going around. He's an iconic figure.
He has been ever since his death, or martyrdom, in 1305.
How was it that it was built at Stirling?
Well, the most important thing is
that this is the site of the Battle of Stirling Bridge,
this is where Wallace's forces came
and camped here, waiting on the English to cross the Stirling Bridge,
and basically this is where his victory was.
How important was his victory over King Edward I?
It was the first time in the medieval period
where a feudal host had actually been decimated by basically a common army,
an inexperienced army.
Wallace then went on to become Guardian of Scotland
and then he began to free Scotland to a certain degree until 1298,
when Edward returned and decimated them at the Battle of Falkirk.
He's caught just outside Glasgow,
taken down to London, put on a show trial,
and basically executed in the most horrific manner.
He's hung, drawn and quartered.
And then, of course, William Wallace has been celebrated by Hollywood
in the modern age with the movie Braveheart. Of course, yeah.
I mean, there's a lot of artistic license added to that,
but what the film did do, in terms of this monument,
it doubled visitor numbers and it made the monument itself.
Instead of being open in a seasonal operation in the '90s,
it now opens almost 363 days a year.
So how did the Victorians get themselves organised to build it?
It was done by public subscription.
Scots patriots, ex-pats in Australia,
in America, you know, having their Burns evenings and suppers
and raising money and sending it across.
It's reported that when the foundation stone was laid in 1861,
local trains couldn't cope with the throng of visitors from across Britain.
I wonder whether Mel Gibson's Braveheart film
has encouraged tourists to visit from further afield.
I assumed you were Scottish but you don't sound it. Where are you from?
We're from Germany. You're from Germany? Wearing kilts?
Yes, we bought it in Germany for the visits here in Scotland,
and...
Is that because you have Scottish backgrounds, Scottish family? No.
First, we saw the film Braveheart and we saw the Highlands
and... The nature.
So we come here to see it with our own eyes.
And what did you think of it? Did you enjoy the monument?
BOTH: Yes, it's very beautiful. Yeah? Yeah.
Beautiful view of Stirling and it's something proud.
Having enjoyed that lesson in Scottish history,
I'm resuming my railway journey,
moving north-east from the central battlefields.
This train will take me to Perth, which my Bradshaw's tells me is...
"The capital of Perthshire, a Parliamentary borough,
"an army brigade depot
"and a port to which small craft come up by the Firth of Tay."
It tells me that, "There's salmon fishing in the river
"with a fish culture at Stormontfield."
In Scotland, wherever there's moving water,
you can bet that someone will be casting a fly.
As the first spot over which the mighty Tay could be bridged,
Perth was founded by Scottish king David
in the early 12 century. In the 19th century,
the town was known for two very Scottish products -
whisky and salmon.
And the coming of the railways in 1848 saw them both flourish.
Urban Britain needed food on its plate,
and when salmon could reach the slabs
of London's Billingsgate Fish Market
within hours of leaving Scottish waters,
Perth's fishing industry exploded.
Landlords cashed in by leasing their stretch of the salmon-filled Tay
to commercial fishermen who laid vast nets to maximise their catch.
I'm visiting the oldest salmon fishery on the planet,
owned by David Clarke.
Hello, David. Hello. Very, very good to see you. What a fantastic day.
What a beautiful place. It's grand, isn't it?
How long have they been fishing salmon here on the Tay?
In the 11th century,
the first charters were given to the monks along the river
and that continued right up to the dissolution of the monasteries.
Did the Victorians take it another stage?
Well, they over-fished, basically,
and I think at one time there was probably a net in the river every quarter of a mile
so it was almost impossible for fish to get by. Yes, far too many.
Nobody had any responsibility for maintaining the stocks.
If you think about it,
everyone was in competition with everybody else. Yes.
And there was no reason for them to preserve the stocks,
so, obviously, fish stock would have declined.
Foreseeing the problem of dwindling salmon stocks,
in 1899 local naturalist and fisherman PD Malloch
persuaded the landed gentry that it was foolish to over-fish.
They gave him the financial backing
to buy up long leases covering many miles of the Tay
so that he could control fishing and begin to tag Tay salmon
to keep track of numbers and to learn about their lifecycle.
Malloch tagged a thousand salmon
and was able to prove, for the first time,
that salmon did return to their river of birth.
Where it had only been conjecture before, he actually proved it.
The river is no longer industrially fished,
but the fly fishermen who pay a pretty penny for the privilege
expect a sporting chance of a decent catch
and salmon conservation is as important as ever.
But even using nets to catch and tag fish for scientific purposes
before returning them requires patience bordering on stoicism.
So no sign of anything yet?
No, but there's some ripples there, you never know.
They can be right on the beach before you realise there's a fish in there.
Look at those swirls there, you would think there was a fish, wouldn't you?
Hard luck, boys. I'm sorry. MICHAEL SIGHS
An empty net. Yes.
That's a sadness but you don't mind coming down to the river
even if the net is empty? Well, no, exactly.
You're very welcome to come back and try any time with us. Thank you.
Pursuing my 19th century inspired railway journeys,
just occasionally I witness a scene
that could be lifted directly from Victorian times.
Today, watching those men handling nets with skills
that are passed through the generations
gave me a special insight
and a moment of tranquillity that I shall savour.
I've been studying my Bradshaw's guide for a hotel
to spend the night while I'm here in Perth
and on a day when I've been thinking about kings and queens,
this one has a suitably monarchical name -
The Royal George.
And I'm excited to be booked in, because although it surprises me,
Queen Victoria herself once rested her head here at The Royal George.
Well, she would normally have stayed in Scone Palace,
probably, with Lord Mansfield, but he happened to be in London,
and the house-keeper here was given one hour's notice
that the Queen was going to arrive and stay.
Do you have any mementoes of that?
Yes, indeed, we have the royal warrant that she actually presented
to the hotel. It's hanging in the hall.
Well, that I have to see. Would you mind showing me?
Most certainly. Thank you.
Here we are, then - one royal warrent.
Well, well, it's hardly pocket-sized, is it?
That's superb. What's it made of? Hand carved solid oak. Really?
So, when I stay here tonight,
I should think of myself as staying in a sort of unofficial palace.
Without a doubt. Quite correct.
Porridge - I love it.
And nowadays, it's not confined to Scotland, I've had it in Beijing
and Texas, and the great thing is, every time it's a surprise.
You can make it with water or milk or cream,
it can be smooth or it can be gritty,
but because my mother's Scottish,
the great thing is how you flavour it.
Not for me sugar... Salt!
Hmm, that's the way!
'In 1842, Queen Victoria made her first visit north of the border
'and loved it, so much so that she bought what she called her
'"dear paradise in the Highlands", Balmoral.'
Today, I am joining a gathering that benefitted greatly from her
new found penchant for all things Scottish.
My first destination of the day is Dunkeld,
which my Bradshaw's tells me is "most charmingly situated
"on the margin of the River Tay,
"and forms part of the path into the Highlands.
"It's been aptly designated 'The Eden of the North.'
"It was the abode of the Culdees in 570,
"and the capital of ancient Caledonia."
Well, nowadays, Dunkeld shares its railway station with Birnam,
and I'm alighting there for a competitive event which is decidedly
Caledonian and has been celebrated annually since Victorian times.
Birnam and Dunkeld are set on opposite sides of the River Tay.
Dunkeld held the first Highland Games in the 1820s, but, in 1864,
the event moved to Birnam, where it has been held ever since.
'Highland dancing, piping, cycling, track
'and heavyweight prizes are all up for grabs.'
Present arms!
Now that we've had the pipes and the drums and the firing
of the cannon, our senses have been titillated and the games can begin.
The Highland Games, though centuries old, suffered an enforced hiatus.
Jane Anderson, an archivist at nearby Blair Castle, knows more.
Jane, the Highland Games are a wonderful afternoon's fun.
What was the origin of them?
They would have originally been much more informal than this, but showing
the same types of skills - strength, accuracy - all the things that would
have been needed to show what a good servant you would be of a clansman.
And have those sorts of games continued ever since?
There would be quite a gap due to the risings of the people
in Scotland who supported King James
and then all Highland culture was stamped on
by the national government.
They were very worried about the risings,
they wanted to put an end to that, so tartan was forbidden,
weapons were forbidden, bagpipes were forbidden.
So it's a big gap.
And then they come back to being greatly popular
in the middle of the 19th century, is that right?
Yes, around about 1820s, which was when the visit of George IV was.
And Queen Victoria then visited Scotland,
and things Highland became fashionable.
The thing to attend and come and see.
It's an extraordinary change, that, isn't it?
From being suppressed to fashionable in a short period of time.
Yes, it was.
Well, I came here by train today -
did the railways play a part in the games?
Yes, the railway arrived here in 1856,
and people came by train from many miles away.
Extra trains came, and just like you today,
they could appreciate these feats of strength and skill.
Excuse me interrupting.
Welcome, welcome.
Thank you. I did not expect to see an armed man here -
you've got a rifle, a bayonet, are you expecting trouble today?
No, I don't think so, we are actually the Atholl Highlanders,
the Duke of Atholl's private army.
I didn't know there were private armies in the UK today.
Well, we are actually the last private army,
official private army, in Europe,
and we're based up at Blair Castle 20 miles north of here.
So what's the history?
Well, Queen Victoria visited this area in the 1840s
and the men of Atholl provided a bodyguard for her.
Did you do a good job?
I think we must have done,
because the following year she arranged for colours to be
presented to us, and that to this day gives us the right to bear arms.
Well, a pleasure to see you. Like Queen Victoria,
I'm very impressed by this fine body of men that I've seen here today.
Thank you very much. Bye.
Three, two, one!
This is unbelievable - this is the haggis-eating competition.
They're trying to get down the haggis
as quick as they possibly can,
then each contestant has to keep it down for 40 seconds in order to win.
'Haggis eating may be an admirable skill, but, for me,
'one event evokes the Highland Games.
'It utilises the trunk of a pine tree, weighing up to 80 kilos
'and nearly six metres long.
'It's tossing the caber, today judged by Alec Webster.'
He's picking it up.
Which is a job in itself, isn't it?
Wa-hey, up it goes, he's got hold of it.
Now we go behind him. We go behind him.
There it goes. It's gone over.
Now, sir, how are you going to judge that?
Well, he's turned it to this side,
right, that would be about five past 12.
So if he'd done it perfectly, it would have landed in the 12 o'clock,
dead ahead of us, and that would be perfect.
That would be perfect, yes.
The winner, then, is not the person who's tossed the caber the furthest,
the winner is the person who's done it the most perfectly.
Most perfectly, that's right.
'Continuing my Scottish adventure,
'I'm heading back to Perth Station to push east.'
I shall leave this train at Invergowrie, from where
on a clear day I will have a good view of the Tay Rail Bridge.
My Bradshaw's writes about the bridge's predecessor -
"This immense viaduct, as constructed by Sir Thomas Bouch,
"3,450 yards long on 85 spans, was begun in 1870,
"opened in 1877 and cost £300,000.
"On Sunday evening, the 28th of December 1879, at about 7.15,
"in a storm of wind, the middle spans, where they were the widest
"and at the greatest height above the water, 130 feet,
"were swept away, with a train of carriages just passing over.
"Out of 70-80 persons, all perished."
The Tay Bridge disaster is one of those epic catastrophes
that is remembered from century to century.
'Historian Professor Charles McKean has studied the disaster.'
Charles, hello.
I suppose this blustery weather is not bad for considering
the Tay Bridge disaster, and it's a great view from here.
It is tremendous, but this is two miles wide,
so we'd be much better to get out there by boat
so we could see the thing close up. Very good, let's do that.
The bridge was built by the North British Railway company,
which was in fierce competition with the Caledonian Railway company
for rail traffic running between London and Aberdeen.
Finished in 1877,
the Tay crossing was the longest railway bridge in the world.
However, the engineers had failed to notice a damaged girder -
the result of corner cutting during construction
and which had caused season ticket holders to demand refunds
because their carriages were bouncing.
In 1879, disaster struck one unlucky train.
All 75 passengers lost their lives.
What was it that happened on that night?
One of the carriages that was empty jumped off track.
There was a gale, not a very big gale, and it blew that carriage
against the side of the bridge. The iron fractured and down it went.
Everybody was killed.
The photographs show that really large bits of cast iron were
bent and twisted, the impact must have been ferocious.
Is it unique in being the only railway disaster in Britain
in which everybody has perished?
I think so, and it caused huge shock at the time,
because the Victorians believed in technology, it was their bag.
In our time, it would be comparable
to a jumbo jet coming out of the sky.
And who was it who got the blame?
I think the inquiry was fixed.
The chairman had been briefed by the Board of Trade,
they wanted to get a bit back at the engineers,
so he blamed the engineer, Sir Thomas Bouch.
They say that he died of a broken heart, do you buy that?
Not in the slightest, he was convinced it was nothing to do with
him and by the time he died, all the evidence showed he was right.
In typical Victorian fashion, engineers soon set about building
a structure that would restore confidence in the railways,
and, in 1887, a new double track bridge was opened.
Construction involved 25,000 tons of iron, 70,000 tons of concrete,
10 million bricks and 3 million rivets.
The Caledonian Railway, whose trains from London to Aberdeen ran
up the west coast, was now vulnerable to its competitor
North British, which ran its trains up the east coast.
It planned to scupper its rival.
So once the North British has got a bridge across the Tay, it now
has the advantage over running trains up the main line.
It has the advantage, but for the last 24 miles into Aberdeen
they're on Caledonian rail, and there's a junction,
and it's run by Caledonian signalmen,
so every time they see a North British express,
the Caledonian signalmen put it to red and effectively
it's dirty tricks, and it's in response to that that North British
think they've got to expose this to the public gaze, and the best way
to do this is by railway race.
And they ran a train from King's Cross to Aberdeen
and it takes 13 hours, that's down from 18 hours.
Really? They get five hours off the total?
They get five hours, and the west coast line realise they're losing
business, dirty tricks isn't winning them any favours so they retaliate
almost immediately, and during June, July and August 1895 there's
a sort of railway Olympiad, and people get really burned up about
it, all the newspapers get going, and it climaxes on the 23rd August.
You have the west coast leaving Euston at 8pm, the North British
with the east coast leaving King's Cross at 8pm and they're roaring up.
By this time, there are people in York railway station
cheering them through at 3am. Then they arrive at Montrose.
North British is about four minutes ahead,
and, as usual, the Caledonian inspector stops the North British
and allows the west coast line to win.
But, the North British has filled its train with newspapermen
and that's what they wanted to do.
They saw this, and worldwide, throughout the Empire,
the dirty tricks of the Caledonian railway is exposed to full gaze.
And, ultimately, the west coast line won the railway race,
but the North British won the commercial war.
And indeed the propaganda battle, which I know from my experience
is one of the most important to win.
Exactly. They had it down to a tee.
The 19th-century railway boom opened swathes of Scotland to
leisure travellers for the first time and it spurred the development
of Scottish industries, but the hell-for-leather competition
between different railway companies was accompanied by catastrophe.
Sometimes, even brilliant Victorian engineers had to stop
to think again.
'On the next leg of this journey,
'I learn how Queen Victoria used trackside trees
'to screen her from her subjects.'
They were planted at Queen Victoria's request because
when she was going to Balmoral, the royal train would stop here
for her breakfast, and she didn't like the locals to see her eating.
'I lend an ear to the history of a textile mill.'
Everybody in the factory went deaf eventually.
Oh, yes. Awful.
'And I'll go out with a bang in Aberdeenshire.'
Lord, look at that!
It has changed the shape of the quarry.
Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd