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 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 the country
to see what of Bradshaw's Britain remains.
I've been travelling from Tyneside to the Midlands.
And now I'm embarking on the final stretch.
I'm completing my railway journey across the northern half of England.
My Bradshaw's Guide has made clear to me
how the region's natural resources, coal, water and iron,
made the industrial revolution possible,
and how its inventors, entrepreneurs and craftsmen made it happen.
I'm trusting that my "Bradshaw's" will help me uncover
more of the intriguing history of the heart of England.
On this leg, I'll be learning the secrets
of one of Victorian Britain's favourite cheeses, stilton...
You turned that very well.
I can't turn an omelette let alone a thing like that.
...finding out how the railways
transformed a traditional British sport...
Special carriages were built to take these hunters
from the middle of London right up to the shires of Leicestershire.
...and attempting to mould an authentic Melton Mowbray pork pie.
Mine doesn't look like yours but never mind.
Good job it's a three-year apprenticeship.
I'm nearing the end of a journey that started in the Northeast of England
and passed through the manufacturing cities of Leeds and Sheffield.
Now I'm continuing south into the Midlands
where I'll be exploring this region's
rich industrial and rural heritage.
The final stretch starts just outside Nottingham at Langley Mill
before crossing into Leicestershire
and finishing up at the county's food capital, Melton Mowbray.
The first part of the route skirts the city of Nottingham
of which Bradshaw says,
"Silk, cotton stockings and bobbin net lace are the staple manufactures. "
When industrialisation came,
Nottingham made its fortune out of textiles and lace in particular.
In fact, it became known as the lace capital of the world,
and the lace machine was invented in the city.
But most of the manufacturing was done in towns and villages outside.
The Erewash Valley near the city got its first railway in 1847.
Soon, lace factories sprang up all along the line.
By 1900, there were more than 40 mills in the vicinity,
sending their finished lace into Nottingham by rail.
I'm getting off at Langley Mill
to find out what's become of the Victorian lace industry.
I'm visiting an old family firm
that has been doing business since Bradshaw's day,
run by managing director, Charles Wood.
Morning, Charles.
- Good morning. - Good to see you.
I can just about hear you.
How long has your family been in the textile businesses?
Since 1831, or probably a little bit before.
The company was founded by three brothers,
who started making textile machine parts and then eventually finished products.
Really, this was at the outset of the Industrial Revolution,
certainly as far as textiles were concerned.
Before the 19th century, lace makers were skilled artisans.
It could take two hours to create just an inch of hand-crafted lace,
making it one of the most expensive fabrics.
Then in 1813, John Levers invented a lace-making machine.
Mass-produced lace was affordable to the middle classes
and came to be used in all kinds of clothing.
This is one of the products which the company produced.
Silk lace, pure silk lace.
They produced silk lace shawls and also silk lace gloves.
- A tiny hand. - Yes, it's a tiny hand.
I think it's interesting that there is no textile machinery today
that can produce that product.
- Really? - No.
We have to bear in mind, this is not done by hand,
this is done on a machine and that is the miracle of it.
Absolutely.
The Erewash Valley became a centre of machine lace production.
Midlands coal fuelled the factories
and the local metal industry was a ready source of machine parts.
Everywhere I go, I find it's the same story.
The combination of metals, of coal,
of water, of brilliantly inventive people and railways?
And railways, absolutely.
The lace market in Nottingham was the central trading point for lace
really throughout Europe and in many cases, the world.
I would say the railway is absolutely instrumental
in building the brand of Nottingham lace
which has become so famous and well known to this day.
To keep up with the times,
Charles's family firm invested in ever more sophisticated machines,
like this, which transformed lace-making and surprisingly,
pointed towards the age of information technology.
What a fantastic museum piece.
This is a Jacquard machine for making silk lace from probably the 1840s,
which is pretty unique.
I'm intrigued by these things. What are they?
That's a Jacquard card, so that's the patterning device
which will actually determine the patterns for the lace.
This is a coding which would determine
which needles were knitted and which weren't.
The machine was turned over by hand
so they'd have to do so many stitches of the pattern
and then they would change the card
and do the next section with a different pattern.
There were limitless possibilities in terms of patterning.
Punch cards like these were used in the first computers.
But not everyone welcomed the mechanisation of the lace industry,
as my "Bradshaw's Guide" explains.
"The framework knitters and twisthands broke out under the name of Luddites
and went about destroying machinery. "
At one time at the beginning of the 19th century,
they smashed up machines in Nottinghamshire.
Yes, that's right.
The Luddite movement was up in arms about the mechanisation
and industrialisation of the textile industry
removing their jobs, removing the requirement for so much labour.
This of course affected many families, so they smashed up machines
and they also burnt down Nottingham Castle as well.
They sent in the army to deal with these people.
Yes, they did.
In terms of industrial revolts, what we see today,
that was nothing in terms of what happened in the Luddite Revolution.
The government's tough line, including executions and transportation,
crushed the Luddites by 1817,
leaving the textile industry free to grow
and bring great wealth to Nottinghamshire.
Today, Charles's firm remains at the forefront of textile technology.
It's developed 3D knitting techniques that produce extra-strong fabrics
for clothing like police body armour.
So just have a lunge. That's the protected area of the chest.
- Just have a lunge? - Yes, just have a lunge.
I don't feel good about this but I'll have a go.
There we are, you see, not really a blemish.
Not a blemish.
Vital, of course, if we're protecting a police officer.
The company's fabric is also used
in motorcycle jackets with built-in airbags.
There is a C02 canister in the jacket.
So I'm going to pull this lanyard here quite hard.
There'll be a loud bang and the airbags will inflate.
How do I get into these things?
- Go ahead. - OK?
Here we go. One, two, three.
Ooh! Wow.
I feel lots of pressure all round me.
- Masses of protection. - Masses of protection.
- That's a great invention. - It's a fantastic invention.
With his great respect for innovation,
I'm sure George Bradshaw would have been excited by these hi-tech fabrics.
Now it's back to Langley Mill
to continue my journey south towards Leicestershire.
My route takes in some important railway heritage.
The wrought-iron Bennerley Viaduct is 1400 foot long
and was built in 1877 to serve the coal trade.
But as ever, the railway soon adapted to be used for leisure.
Along this railway line in 1841, a devout Leicestershire businessman
organised an excursion for 500 people to go from Leicester to Loughborough
for a temperance fair.
And then the following year, he organised a Sunday school trip
to get kids out of Leicester to Derby
on a day when there were races in Leicester.
Then he organised trips to North Wales and Snowdonia.
In 1851, big excursions to the Great Exhibition in London.
All that was made possible by the railways.
And that man has become a byword for organised travel,
because his name was Thomas Cook.
Thomas Cook negotiated cheap train fares for his customers
to go from the North of England to the Great Exhibition in the Crystal Palace
with entrance included for as little as five shillings.
Mass travel had begun in earnest.
In Bradshaw's time, the Midlands railways also enabled the upper classes
to travel to their favourite sport of fox-hunting.
But what did today's passengers know about the region's hunting tradition?
Do you live in the Nottinghamshire area?
- No, I'm about to move here. - You're about to move here.
There is quite a lot of hunting around the middle part of England.
I wasn't really aware of it to be honest.
But as a principle, I don't like it.
I feel that even though there lots of are people
who depend on it in the countryside, I find it uncomfortable,
the whole blooding young people on their first hunt and things like that.
When I went to boarding school,
people used to get the afternoon off to go fox-hunting.
If I wanted to do anything,
we were never allowed the afternoon off to go and do that.
My next stop is Barrow upon Soar in rural Leicestershire.
In Bradshaw's time, it was at the heart
of an enthusiastic fox-hunting territory.
Bradshaw says, "We're in the finest fox-hunting ground in England."
That's because the good quality soil is good for the scent,
and he says,
"Most of the land is laid to pasture rather than being ploughed."
"This," he says, "is where the famous Quorn hounds are kennelled."
This is the property of Sir R Sutton, Baronet. This is Quorndon Hall.
Many people claim modern fox-hunting was born at Q uorn
in the late 18th century when faster hounds were bred here.
In the 19th century, the hunt's popularity grew
as the railways made it easier to travel to meets.
Soon, railway companies were targeting the sporting fraternity
with special services.
The Q uorn ceased its pursuit of live foxes in 2005
but it's still an important local institution.
Some of today's hounds are directly descended
from the specimens used in Bradshaw's day.
- Hello, gentleman. - Good afternoon.
- I'm Michael, very nice to see you. - Hello, sir.
Great to see you.
This is the famous pack of Quorn hounds.
Indeed it is.
Beautiful creatures.
I'm joining huntsmen Peter Collins, and Rad Thomas,
a lifelong member of the Q uorn Hunt, as they exercise the hounds.
Here we are on a blazing summer's day, no hunting at this time of year.
So what do the hounds at this time of year?
Basically, this time of year we're keeping them fit.
We've got this many hounds in the kennels all day,
they've got to be exercised.
How fit do these hounds have to get?
By the time it comes to the season,
these hounds could run anything up to 100 miles a day.
100 miles?
And they would probably hunt two days a week.
That would be pretty good training for a marathon runner.
It would. My Bradshaw's Guide
says that this is the best hunting territory in England.
In fact, he quotes a columnist in a sporting paper called Nimrod,
and Nimrod apparently said of all the hunts, this is the belle.
- Is that still the case? - I think so.
Many others do as well.
It's a history, really, of the topography of the county
which meant that the sport was faster, a little more scary,
and that attracted the interested people who were prepared to come and hunt
and a lot of them came by train to enjoy that sport.
How did the railways affect hunting?
Before the railways,
you had to set your stall out and go for the whole season
because it took so long to get there,
to get all your equipment and servants and horses and everything else there.
Now the railways had arrived, the easier routes up to Leicestershire
from the swells of London, and so they could do it in a day.
How did they get their horses up here?
On specially built carriages
and their group which are equipped for the horses and room for the grooms
and all the provender that went with it,
not only to get them here but also to get them back, of course.
The rapid expansion of the Q uorn boosted local businesses.
Hunting lodges and gentlemen's clubs sprang up
to serve the influx of wealthy visitors.
Even today, the hunt looms large in the local economy.
On an average day, there are 100 horses out.
All those horses have got to be fed hay, hard feed,
have got to be shod, everyone's got to buy their riding clothes.
All the local milliners, all the people that produce the food,
hay, straw, it's a very, very big thing.
If that was gone, it would make a big hole in the community.
It's time to continue my journey through Bradshaw's Britain
to a town which greatly benefited from both hunting and the railway,
Melton Mowbray.
My next train takes me east from Leicester Station.
Good morning. Tickets from Leicester, please.
Thank you very much.
- Thank you. Isn't it a wonderful day? - Absolutely.
In the 19th century, the fertile land through which I'm travelling
was the source of much wealth.
Its yield helped Melton Mowbray blossom into a thriving market town.
The railway reached Melton Mowbray in 1846 and Bradshaw says,
"Melton is the centre of a famous hunting country."
"Horses are bred here."
"Its pork pies and stilton cheese are also valuable productions."
I'm here to hunt for those valuable productions.
The area around Melton Mowbray
promotes itself as a centre of gastronomic excellence,
a reputation launched by stilton.
That magnificent blue cheese dates back at least to the 18th century
but the railways magnified the business.
In the second half of the 19th century,
many new dairies sprang up to meet increased demand.
Webster's Dairy, which opened in 1890, is in production still.
Manager Mark Frapwell has worked here for 27 years.
- Hello, you're Mark. - Yes.
- I'm Michael. - Morning, nice to meet you.
How do you do?
I see your cheese making is well under way here.
Yes, we've been working hard this morning and bringing the milk in.
Why did it all happen here?
Why did stilton cheese happen in the area of Melton Mowbray?
A rich farming area, excellent pastures, good climate.
A traditional dairy area. Farmers' wives would make cheese.
At some point, blue cheese became more popular
or certainly commanded more money.
Without modern methods, it was difficult to make cheese go blue.
Once you had learnt, you didn't tell people about it.
They kept within the Melton area the secrets of how to make blue cheese
because that commanded a greater price.
To create stilton's characteristic blue veins, a special mould is added.
That tiny amount into this enormous vat makes everything happen?
Yes, that's right.
Then the cheese is packed into cylindrical hoops to mature.
Webster's is one of only six producers licensed to make stilton.
To be allowed to use the name,
they're bound to follow a precisely stipulated method.
The hoops are removed.
And the cheese is smoothed with a knife. This is Amy.
- Hello, Amy. - Hello.
What are you doing there?
Basically, it's just to keep the blue inside of the cheese.
To keep the blue inside the cheese?
You're removing the holes on the outside?
Yes.
You turned that very well. Did you get that right the first time you tried it?
No.
I can't turn an omelette, let alone a thing like that.
- Takes a lot of practice. - I bet it does.
Proper stilton is made
only in Derbyshire, Nottinghamshire and Leicestershire.
But strangely, it takes its name from a village in Cambridgeshire.
I've come to the village of Saxelby, but this is stilton cheese.
Why is it called stilton?
Because stilton was sold mostly from the village of Stilton
which was on the old Great North Road.
It was the main point from Melton Mowbray
to deliver your cheese to London.
So that was in the days when it went by road by stagecoach.
That's correct.
After that, it went by railways. Were they an advantage to stilton?
I think so, yes.
Stilton compared with other cheeses is a lot more problematic.
It's much softer, it's prone to weep and deteriorate if not transported quickly.
So the faster it goes, the better it is.
- The more places it can reach. - That's right, yes.
The railways allowed city-dwelling Victorians
to enjoy stilton in peak condition for the first time.
It became a favourite luxury for Christmas and special occasions.
Why do you think it's associated with Christmas?
Because sometimes some of the best milk
is from the what we call second bite of grass,
which is the second growth after the summer.
That would produce very good September milk.
And also, calving would then happen
which would produce a higher protein content.
Therefore, that cheese would be perfect for Christmas.
And a thing that if you could only afford it once a year,
Christmas is the perfect time.
- That's the time to have it. - Pile up your table with luxury goods.
It takes eight weeks for the cheese to develop its blue veins.
Then it's ready to taste.
They're all brought upstairs.
Into this extremely pungent room.
- That's the ammonia. - What a smell of cheese.
Hopefully, the cheese are ready for grading,
by putting the iron in and turn, and you can see all that blue-grey.
- And I can just sample that? - You can, yes.
If you take a bit from off that end.
Just off there?
You've got a winner there, that's lovely.
It will be even better in two or three weeks.
- It gets better? - Yes, it will.
That taste makes me crave more.
But I must abstain because stilton isn't the only local delicacy.
In Bradshaw's time, trains leaving for London
were also packed with the town's famous pork pies
cooked in the bake houses surrounding the station.
With stilton and pork pies exported from Melton Mowbray
to the rest of the country,
I'd like to know whether locals appreciate them.
Are you a fan of stilton and pork pies?
I'm a big fan of pork pie but stilton is not my favourite.
It's a little bit bitter.
I don't like stilton cheese and I don't like pork pies.
I thought if you lived in Melton Mowbray,
- it was compulsory to like both. - No.
I don't like stilton cheese, I'm afraid.
The stilton cheese is nice. I'm a vegetarian so I don't eat meat.
So no pork pies for you. No stilton cheese for you.
- I'm afraid not. - You could try both.
- What about pork pies? - The pork pies are nice from Melton.
- Thank you. - OK. Enjoy
The evolution of stilton and pork pies alongside each other
isn't a coincidence.
It goes back to Bradshaw's era and it's connected with hunting.
Farmer Ian Jalland can explain.
- Ian. - Hello, Michael.
Lovely to see you. What a beautiful-looking shop.
Thank you.
- Full of temptations, isn't it? - Absolutely.
You're famous for your Melton Mowbray pork pies.
How long have they been around?
Melton Mowbray pork pies have been around for about 200 or 300 years.
Historically, why were there pork pies here?
Leicestershire is a grassland county.
There is a lot of livestock.
Stilton cheese became quite a big industry
and a by-product of the production of stilton cheese was whey.
And whey was fed to the pigs.
So there are a lot of pigs, a lot of pork,
and people decided a good use of that was to make a pie.
Now, I'm always interested in railways
so railways were pretty important for pork pies here, were they?
It was the railways that brought the hunting fraternity from London
to Melton Mowbray.
The hunt servants often carried these pies in their pockets
to keep them going on a hard day's hunting looking after their master.
The aristocrats from London noticed they were eating these pies
and tried them, liked them, thought they were great,
and started taking them back to London by train
and hence the popularity of the Melton Mowbray pork pie.
I saw as I came in, you are looking for a pie maker.
I thought I might offer my services.
We've been trialling apprentices for a while now.
I'm sure Lee would like to entertain you as an apprentice pie maker.
- Shall we put on funny clothes? - Yep. Follow me.
Ian's bakery is one of just nine
still making traditional Melton Mowbray pork pies.
This is Lee, our head of production.
- Hello, Lee. - Hi, Michael.
These pies are special.
They're not baked in a tin, but moulded around on wooden dolly.
Place your dolly into the centre of your pastry
and just start lifting the pastry up.
As you're lifting it, you want to be turning your pastry.
Right. That's going nicely.
Most pork pies are factory produced
but here to this day, they are made by hand.
You want to release the pastry from off the dolly.
You're a bit quicker than I am. OK.
- It's all practice. - Yeah, I know.
- OK. - Make a nice pizza.
Pretty much.
That's it.
Mine doesn't look like yours, but never mind.
Whilst most pork pies contain cured meat,
a traditional Melton Mowbray pie contains fresh pork.
When it's cooked, the filling looks grey, not pink.
Throw it in to take all the air out.
That's fine.
What you do with your lid, place it on top of your meat.
You want to carry on going round all the way round your pie.
Crimping. Are you pulling faces?
- No, no. - My goodness.
Good job it's a three-year apprenticeship.
A couple of little holes.
It takes skill and a light touch to make the perfect pie;
qualities I fear have passed me by.
Right, mine are not...
Will you stop laughing, Ian?
My pie is a sorry sight, disgraced by the perfection of Lee's.
Now, this doesn't go in a tin, it just bakes as it is?
That's why you get such a crisp finish when you cut in the pie.
You see how it crunches when you're cutting through it.
- That's what gives you the taste. - Wonderful. Wonderful.
Impeccable.
My Bradshaw's Guide said
a Melton Mowbray pork pie was a valuable production.
- Indeed it is. - Super.
Thank you very much.
At the end of my rail trip from the Northeast of England to the Midlands,
I've been strongly reminded in Bradshaw's day,
the railways made Britain shrink.
Whether it was the new mass-produced goods
or delicacies that had been available only locally,
trains allowed the nation to enjoy the specialities of central England.
Using my Bradshaw's Guide for my long journey from Newcastle to Melton Mowbray
has opened my eyes to history that I never fully knew
and to people and industries that I never fully understood.
I've made this journey after a long career in public life.
My only regret is, I didn't make it before setting out on that career.
On my next journey, I'll be exploring the scenic railways of Kent.
Starting in London, I'll travel southeast through Canterbury
and around the coast to Hastings.
Along the way, I'll be finding out
how the trains synchronise time across Britain...
If you wanted to catch a train and you had your watch set to local time
and they had the train timetables on London time,
you really needed to know that otherwise you'd miss your train.
...exploring the history of a seaside swim...
If you were staying in Margate, you would come out of lodgings
and wait for a bathing machine to be ready
which apparently always smelt like rotting carpet.
That horrible smell.
...and hopping with excitement, Victorian-style.
- I just yank this, do I? - Yeah, give a good pull.