Mount Stewart Britain's Hidden Heritage

From above, the British Isles

are a patchwork of fields, towns and villages,

but hidden amongst them are our heritage secrets,

the remains of our industrial and social past

and of course, those jewels in the crown, our country houses.

Today we're in Northern Ireland

at one of our most important historic buildings,

the stately home that was lived in by a family who, for two centuries,

shaped the political landscape of the United Kingdom.

The house has now been left to the nation

and I'll be finding out about its past owners

and some of the treasures unearthed within.

Also, Clare Balding will be in the Midlands,

taking a close look at some of the finest stained glass ever made...

I don't quite know what I was expecting,

but I wasn't expecting this.

..Charlie Luxton travels to the Lake District,

where he'll be celebrating one of the unsung heroes

of the Industrial Revolution...

Once upon a time, these seemingly inconsequential pieces

of shaped lakeland timber

were fundamental to an industry that lead the world.

..and special guest reporter Nick Hewer is taking to the skies

to recapture the past

and find out about the pioneers of aerial photography.

I don't know how those guys did it with big plate cameras.

You know something, it's not easy.

This is the story of Britain's hidden heritage.

Situated on the tranquil shores of Strangford Lough,

in County Down, Northern Ireland,

is a dark and rather dramatic grey stone stately home

that, in its day, has played host to prominent artists, writers,

politicians and even royalty.

Its gardens, which were planted up in the 1920s,

are acknowledged as some of the greatest in the world

and yet, to many, this place is unknown.

So today, I'm going to be finding out why this stately home

has remained so enigmatic.

Welcome to Mount Stewart.

Since the 18th century,

Mount Stewart has been the home of the Stewart family,

holders of the title the Marquess of Londonderry.

The estate itself was first acquired in 1744 by Alexander Stewart,

a Presbyterian Scot who made his money in the linen trade.

The initial house was just a small part

of the splendid building that stands here now,

a relatively modest beginning for a family who became legendary

for the style and scale of their hospitality

and their influence over almost two centuries

of British and Irish politics.

It took quite a while for the house to expand

to the grand scale that we see today.

Most of the family's money in the early years

was spent on forwarding their political ambitions.

However, all that was about to change

when the third Marquess came along.

He married one of the wealthiest women in the country,

an heiress to a coal and railway fortune in the northeast of England.

So the newlyweds went on a spending spree here at Mount Stewart.

They wanted a house to befit their status,

and one of the first additions was this enormous portico.

Big enough to drive a carriage under -

something that would impress their guests.

The house and gardens are now owned and run by the National Trust

but members of the family do still reside at Mount Stewart,

giving the place a real lived in, country house feel.

The Trust's policy here is one of conservation -

maintaining the house exactly as it was left.

A wealthy family home with over 200 years of wear and tear on display.

And although it may now be in suspended animation,

keeping it that way is a monumental task.

This is the staff preparing for the arrival of the public today,

place setting the table with all the family silver.

Let's go and have a chat to them.

-Hello! Hi!

-Hi!

You're both National Trust staff here, aren't you?

How many of you are here, based here?

Myself and Louise are two full-time staff members.

That's all you've got? Just two full-time staff members?

Two full-time and two part-time.

They do the morning clean, the conservation team come in

and help us care for the collection every morning.

You got all the family silver in your hands.

-So, does this come in and out every night?

-It does.

-For security reasons, it goes back in the safe?

-Yes, exactly.

Yeah, absolutely. And also for conservation, so it's not left out,

it's in specially made bags that we can just help care for the silver.

OK, carry on, won't you? Don't let me stop you.

Beautifully place set, Louise.

Is this the family coat of arms engraved on the glass?

It is, it's the Londonderry coat of arms with the L.

You got two different sets there.

There's two there, isn't there? I've just noticed that.

Different eras. We've got different sets coming together,

but you've also got the double Ls that have been embroidered on the napkins.

Erm, they were Edith Lady Londonderry's coat of arms

and she had them all embroidered on all of her different sets

so she could mix and match.

Would the guests, in the day, have eaten off the silver plates

or would there be a plate put on top of it?

As far as I can tell,

looking at the usage on the plates, they would have eaten off of them.

All the scratch marks are there from successive generations eating on them.

So, yeah, very much a used service.

Mount Stewart makes a strong impact on all those who enter.

It's hardly surprising, as the whole point of the house was to impress.

So, who were the intriguing family who created the place?

Gosh, Peter, this is incredible. I love this hall!

-It's, "Wow!", Isn't it?

-Yeah, it has the wow factor.

This double height domed ceiling.

-Especially with all this light flooding in.

-Yeah, it's amazing.

Why did the Londonderrys want to get involved in politics

in such a big way?

They are independently wealthy, they had everything going for them.

Politics was power and, you know, really,

the most famous of the marquesses of Londonderry

was the second Lord Castlereagh - instrumental in the Act of Union,

also heavily involved in the Congress of Vienna.

Sure, so it was all about power, literally about power.

It was about power and access to power at the highest levels.

King Edward VII and Queen Alexandra stayed here in 1903.

The late Queen Mother, as Duchess of York, was here

and, of course, people from the arts and the literary world.

-Gosh, a whole mixture, really?

-Absolutely.

-Yeah.

From Cabinet ministers to military commanders,

the Londonderry family bought, fought or married itself

into the upper echelons of British society

but always, Mount Stewart remained the country retreat.

From something very grand to something very subtle.

I like this room, is it a study?

Indeed, yes, it was Lord Londonderry's sitting room

when he came to live here from the early 1920s.

-Is that him there?

-Yes, that's him there.

-Good looking couple.

-Hmm.

That's very clever.

I've just noticed the shutters in the windows, look.

There's faux spines of books stuck onto them.

Yes, those sort of mock bookend shutters, Paul,

when they closed at night, create a, sort of, fabulous atmosphere.

-Oh, it looks like a library then, doesn't it?

-Yeah.

-What are these? Guest books?

-Visitors' books here.

This one, which actually commemorates the Royal visit, in 1903,

of King Edward VII and Queen Alexandra.

-And then, in more recent times, from 1968, Prince Philip.

-Prince Philip.

Wow.

Mount Stewart has a wonderful feel about it,

with many generations of the Londonderry family

having lived here, all making the place their own.

There's a sort of historical mishmash of furniture and paintings,

fabrics and colours, but they all work as a whole,

held together by centuries of good taste.

Many of the contents are family heirlooms

handed down through the years, but some are national treasures,

like this set of 22 unassuming early 19th-century chairs,

which hold an incredible story that harks back to 1814

and the second Marquess, the famous Lord Castlereagh.

He was instrumental in creating a lasting peace in Europe

through his contacts.

He gathered together the European leaders

in what he called the Congress of Vienna.

It was the end of the Napoleonic wars.

This peace lasted for almost 100 years,

right up to the First World War.

So it was an incredible moment in European history,

but to get 22 European leaders sitting down talking

was absolutely remarkable.

And guess what they sat on? These 22 chairs.

'Each chair was carefully allocated to a delegate,

'and later embroidered to record who sat where.'

So, this one is the Duke of Wellington's.

You can see his armoury on there.

And that one is Lord Castlereagh's.

That early Congress system became the precursor to the United Nations.

How incredible is that?

Later on, I'll be finding out about one member of the Londonderry family

who was instrumental in bringing women the vote

and somehow found time to create one of the finest gardens in the world.

But before that,

our reporter Clare Balding has been to the Midlands

to find out about the race to save

one of the country's greatest ecclesiastical treasures.

Nowadays, Britain's urban skylines

are crowded with magnificent architecture,

but take yourself back a few hundred years,

and the only buildings that towered over the rest

were our mighty cathedrals,

with the impressive spires soaring skywards and pointing to the heavens.

Our mediaeval cathedrals were not just places of worship,

but also tools of instruction,

their statues and their stained glass windows

telling stories from the Bible

that an often illiterate congregation could understand.

But the windows in this cathedral tell more than just a biblical story.

They tell a tale of a race against time, a historic drama

and a European treasure that only exists

because of the dedication of one man.

And the man I'm here to find out about

is one of Britain's unsung heritage heroes,

a man who saved one of the greatest ecclesiastic artworks in Europe

and brought it here, to Lichfield Cathedral, for all to see.

His name was Brooke Boothby, poet, translator of literature

and patron of the arts.

Boothby had the ambition to restore the cathedral

in his beloved Lichfield, which had lost all its glass

when it was smashed in the English Civil War.

Brooke Boothby spent much of his adult life in Europe.

In the early 1800s, he happened upon the Herckenrode nunnery,

which had been dissolved and plundered

during the French Revolutionary Wars.

The Cistercian abbey, 50 miles east of Brussels,

had been all but destroyed by Napoleon's troops.

However, Boothby discovered that the abbey's stained glass windows,

which dated back to the 1520s, were miraculously still intact.

They'd been created by artisans at the very top of their trade

and when Boothby saw them he realised their historical and artistic importance,

immediately sending word to the Dean of Lichfield.

And these are the letters?

These are some of Brooke Boothby's letters

and this is the one that he first wrote.

And you can see, wonderfully,

"My love for a place which I consider with the affection

"of a second home induces me to trouble you, my dear sir.

"One of the many fine churches or monasteries

"which have been destroyed,

"one has fortunately been preserved.

"I have contracted for the purchase of 17 windows of what appears to me

"the finest painted glass I have almost ever seen,

"which I should greatly desire to be placed in your beautiful choir."

Gosh.

-Is there any record of how much it all cost?

-Yes.

Altogether, the glass and the transportation came to £200

and he was very particular that he expected the cathedral

to reimburse him for £200.

So it was an interest free business transaction,

but he didn't want to be out of pocket.

Once installed, the beautiful windows drew admirers from far and wide,

but were you to arrive at Lichfield to see them today,

you'd be sadly disappointed.

Where is your great Herckenrode glass?

Don't panic, it's not here, but it is coming back.

We took it down in 2010

for some absolutely essential restoration work.

So, it's all gone?

All seven windows dismantled piece by piece

and packed away now for the conservation that needed to be done.

Over the centuries, the wind and rain had taken their toll

on this world-class treasure,

so the Herckenrode glass has once again had to be dismantled

and this time taken to York, where each and every piece

is undergoing extensive renovation.

Keith, hi.

Finally, I get to see it. Wow!

I don't quite know what I was expecting,

but I wasn't expecting this.

Well, this was work that was done, you know,

at the height of the stained glass period.

I wasn't expecting a lot of nudey bodies, but it's very beautiful.

Well, this is very much part of a religious scene.

This is from the Last Judgement

and you can see from the expressions on the faces

that these are the ones looking in hope

and, sort of, joy and probably will to go up to heaven.

And yet, these are the ones that are being judged

and they are distraught, and they'll be going down to hell.

As artwork, does it move you emotionally?

It certainly does because this is art,

as far as stained glass is concerned, at its peak.

When the glass returns to the cathedral

it will, for the first time, sit behind a protective layer of clear glass

which allows Keith and his team to remove some of the excess lead

that had been put in over the years to repair leaks and cracks

but which had been obscuring some of the artwork.

The actual leading is in a sound condition,

so we're not re-leading the windows

but we are cleaning them, and we're taking the opportunity

of actually removing some of the past repairs that were done.

And then pieces at the edge, we're able to remove

and take out the leads completely and glue the two pieces together.

So we're edge bonding, you know, cracked pieces

and removing leads, wherever possible,

around the perimeter of each panel.

The restoration of the glass panels began over two years ago

and it's estimated it'll take another three years

before they are ready to be reinstated in Lichfield.

Now, it's not just a case of repairing the lead

and cleaning the glass. These are incredibly intricate works of art

and over the centuries, some of the original brushstrokes have been lost.

So the artists here are using both their knowledge of historic methods at the time

and their own artistic skills to replace the finer brushstrokes.

Helen Whittaker is the artist

who's been entrusted to restore the delicate Renaissance brushstrokes

to the former glory that so captivated Brooke Boothby

when he first saw them at Herckenrode Abbey.

How do you assess this as a work of art? I mean, how good is it?

This is absolutely exquisite painting.

It's not only free - it's bold, it's confident, erm,

and it's just full of life.

I mean, I can well imagine that Boothby was quite drawn by this.

You're tracing over lines that were there

but presumably, in some cases, you're having to invent?

Erm, no, I mean, fortunately,

we can at least see the ghosting lines underneath.

That gives enough information

to actually, you know, trace those lines that were originally there

and what's beautiful is, we're actually bringing back

what they probably envisaged when they originally did it.

I don't, you know, this isn't meant to be a disrespectful question

but why did they bother being so intricate with the faces

when once it's up in the cathedral,

nobody's really going to be able to see them?

As a craftsperson, and I'm sure it was the same then,

you love your craft so much that you want to do the best you can for it,

so every piece is a jewel and it's treated like one.

So, you know, the detail is there and it didn't actually matter

if no-one could see it because the quality was there.

In terms of the colour of the paint and also how it's made,

are you making it up yourself every time?

Yeah, yeah.

I mean, what we are using is, they used oxides in that day

and we're pretty much recreating the colours with the oxides.

Obviously, we're not firing this back painting onto the glass

but the colours, we're matching up by various samples,

so we're trying to get it as near as we possibly can.

Brooke Boothby was an extraordinary man.

The lengths he went to, even in the midst of war,

to save the Herckenrode glass that he had discovered

and bring it back here to his beloved Lichfield Cathedral.

And the exciting thing is that now the glass enters a new chapter,

and very soon it will be reinstated here

to be enjoyed for centuries to come.

Later on Britain's Hidden Heritage,

Charlie Luxton will be visiting a Victorian time capsule

that harks back to the Industrial Revolution...

You going to make it?

Yes! Brilliant!

..guest reporter Nick Hewer takes to the skies

to celebrate two pioneers of aerial photography.

It all started off with an old crate like this,

a big plate glass camera and two great Britons.

But first, we're back in Northern Ireland

where my tour of Mount Stewart continues.

Home to the marquesses of Londonderry for 250 years,

it's a house that is full of history.

But there's one person in the family, above all others,

whose passion for the house and gardens shines out.

And that is Edith Lady Londonderry, the wife of the seventh Marquess.

From the 1920s to the 1950s, she transformed the place

from what had become a dark, Victorian house

into a comfortable early 20th century country home.

Isn't it nice to enter a room, Maureen, through a secret door?

It is. Children love this door.

Yes, Edith loved this room. This was her sitting room.

The best light, south facing...

You can follow it around all day long, can you?

And the gardens are all around you here.

But it's just as if she's gone out and she's going to come back again.

Yes, all her books are here.

Her desk, her gardening table, all the little mementos, photographs.

Yeah, everything you would associate with your own home,

just on a larger scale.

Everything about this room is charming.

I would imagine when the shutter goes up,

that crystal chandelier, shaped like a ship,

at night-time looks like it's floating on the lough.

-That was the idea, that was the idea.

-Who is this gentleman here?

-This is Charles, Edith's husband, the seventh Marquess.

-OK.

-In the 1930s, he was Air Minister in the British government.

-Was he?

-Yeah.

Flying was his passion.

He was responsible for the development of the Spitfire,

the hurricane, radar.

-Well, that's incredible!

-Yeah.

The more you find out about the Londonderrys,

-you realise it's a family steeped in history, don't you?

-Oh, it is.

They were very powerful and very influential.

Lady Edith is strikingly beautiful.

She was a very attractive and commanding presence in any room.

Not only was she a great social hostess, she was a political hostess

and was credited with founding the Women's Legion

during the First World War,

the end result of which was

that women in Britain got the vote in 1918.

And it was in no small measure due to Edith Lady Londonderry.

She was the driving force behind a lot of women's suffrage.

Perhaps Edith Lady Londonderry's finest legacy here at Mount Stewart

are the celebrated gardens, ranked amongst the greatest in the world.

And as you wander around, you can soon see why.

When Edith first saw this place, she found it rather damp and depressing,

but she began to realise its potential. She fell in love with it

and, during the 1920s, created a horticultural masterpiece.

-Neil, this is such a beautiful place, you must love your job?

-I do.

-Yes, I mean the work here is such a privilege.

-Every day is a joy?

-It is.

Did she design all of this herself

and plant it up, or did she have professionals in?

Oh, she did, she did it all herself

-and she had some books for inspiration.

-Yeah.

And she really copied a lot of things and adapted a lot of things,

and really, the whole garden is her expression, her artistic expression.

So, yeah, she did it all herself.

This is the Gardens of Italy, by Country Life, in about 1920

and Edith's just sketched little ideas -

- this is this exedral bench that we're sitting on here -

just sketching things out

and basically, she'd give that to her guys to build.

-On the back of an envelope...

-A little envelope.

-Isn't that lovely?

-Yeah.

-Oh, this is nice.

-It is, yes.

-This echoes this.

-This is actually the balustrade,

if you look at the pots and the balusters.

So she's actually taken that as the design for the balusters there.

-From the gardens of Florence?

-Yeah.

So, it's stunning to see.

And then the garden diaries Edith kept...

It shows her evolution as a gardener, really,

but in 1926 she came up with some stunning colour schemes.

Look at those.

Oh, this is really nice.

This is handwritten and hand drawn by her?

Yeah, but the actual one which she is most proud of, I think,

is this one here. This, sort of, sunburst.

Like an aerial view of what she's proposing.

-Well, she did go up onto the roof.

-Did she? And looked down?

Looked down on it.

So, we're using this colour scheme again,

using half the plants that she used

-and half that I think she'd like, had she been alive today.

-Yeah.

But if this were just a colour scheme you'd think that was fine -

-herbaceous plants and bulbs.

-Yeah.

But, actually, what she was going for and was most proud of

was not just herbaceous plants but also shrubs...standard trees -

pyramid growing trees and standard trees

in amongst the herbaceous plants.

It's got a very strong vertical plane.

So, you just get a sense of how beautiful...

The way she used colour, you know, in a French impressionistic way.

It's incredible,

the attention to detail in this garden is just mind blowing.

Yes, it gets you on every level -

as well as the planting and the colour, and the beautiful shrubs,

which, often, you wouldn't find anywhere else

growing outside in the British Isles.

And what a view of the house from the terrace here. What's this?

Just a little place to, sort of, sit under and shelter?

Yeah, I mean, the loge there

is just to, you know, to have tea out of the rain,

but it also has a little bit of history

in that there is a little bit of mediaeval sculpture there,

which is from the House of Lords, which was bombed by Zeppelin in 1918.

And that's just been set into the wall?

Yeah, Edith got hold of a few bits

and there's a few more bits in the garden further on.

-Let's go and have a wander, shall we?

-Yeah, let's.

-Let's go that way.

-Yeah.

One of the most notable features of the gardens is the summerhouse,

known as the Temple of the Winds.

It has one of the most extraordinary interiors

and later on in the programme, I'll be paying it a visit.

But first, our reporter Charlie Luxton has been to Cumbria

in search of a small but perfectly formed object

that really did have a big impact on the Industrial Revolution.

The majestic sight of Windermere, the largest lake in England

and one of the centrepieces of the Lake District.

People come up here to walk and climb

and just soak up this beautiful scenery.

Today the Lakes thrive on one thing - tourism,

but 150 years ago priorities here were rather different

and it was only the odd writer and artist

who came here to admire the landscape.

Whilst William Wordsworth was penning his poetry

to the north of Windermere,

the hills and valleys round here

started to buzz to the sound of a new industry

based totally on these...

..bobbins.

Simple wooden reels,

but they were central to the Industrial Revolution.

And the Lake District made them in their millions.

Nowadays, the word "bobbins" can be a bit of a joke,

but in the 19th century it was anything but.

The bobbin is a forgotten giant of Victorian Britain.

Absolutely vital to industry,

nowhere more so than in the cotton spinning factories of Lancashire.

These multi-storey mills were the largest in the world,

each with thousands of spindles.

Each spindle demanded a constant supply of bobbins.

And just a few hundred metres from the banks of Lake Windermere

is Stott Park, now the only surviving example

of a Lakeland Bobbin Mill

that once would have supported the cotton industry.

Like the bobbins themselves,

Stott Park seems a rather humble and quaint place,

and today it blends beautifully

into its tranquil woodland location.

'It is an absolutely incredible place this, isn't it?'

It's like, it almost feels like it's unchanged.

Well, it's unbelievable, really. It was built in 1835.

There's an extension through there, which was done in 1880, 1890,

but after that it's just run as it is until 1971.

I imagine you need quite a lot of bobbins

for the size of the textile industry that we had?

-In Oldham alone, there were 20 million bobbins.

-On machines?

On machines in Oldham, yes.

And how many bobbins could this place make?

-This place could produce up to 250,000 bobbins a week.

-Wow.

The industry settled here

because it was so close to the giant mills of Lancashire,

but the lakes also meant that Mother Nature could lend a hand.

Local woodland provided the key bobbin ingredient - timber -

birch, alder and ash...

..and the fast flowing water meant power for the machines.

Within 50 years of opening, though,

Stott Park took production to a new level.

The water wheel was out, and in its place a newer innovation -

steam.

So, this engine arrived in 1880, from Yorkshire,

where it had already had a previous life

pumping water out of a coal mine.

It's now running at about half the speed it would've done in its prime

and even then it only produced about 30 horsepower,

which is about a third of an average family car.

But that was enough energy to drive ALL the saws in ALL the machinery

all the way through the factory.

Amazingly, that machinery is still here and still working,

which gives me the chance of a bobbin making lesson

with Stott Park guide Tracy.

The Lakes once produced 260 shapes and sizes of bobbin

but I'll be concentrating on just one rather modest effort.

In the 1880s, the main work took place in the new lathe workshop.

130 years later, that's exactly where I'll be working today.

I've never seen so many belts before. Look at all the belt drives!

It must have been quite dangerous?

It would have been, yes.

There were no guards on any of the machines, the walkways or the belts.

-So you had to be very careful...

-So this wouldn't have been here?

No, there'd be nothing like that there.

So how did you know where to go?

Well, they were very clever about that.

Because of the amount of bobbins that they made,

the floor level was about this high up.

Right the way round the workshop, there'd have been wooden shavings

and they used to just dig out channels

to get access through the shavings

and if you always walked in the channel,

you never walked into a moving belt.

One of the most ingenious bits of kit

is this 1860s semi-automated drill.

The drill bits have been removed

but the mechanism is in perfect working order.

Where the wood's been bored, you just take that bored wood off

and then replace it with fresh wood to be bored.

I mean, the ingenuity is just extraordinary, isn't it?

It is very clever.

Automation, though,

meant that this machine could be operated by apprentices.

Boys aged eight or nine were brought in from Lancashire workhouses.

At first they would simply strip bark and prepare fresh logs

but by the age of 12, they were operating machines like this...

..12 hours a day, six days a week,

a pattern that would continue for years.

With a hole now drilled through the block of wood,

it's time to create something that looks more like a bobbin.

-So, that goes on there?

-Yeah.

You're going to bring the back tool in first. Slowly.

-When do I stop?

-You keep going, a bit harder.

-Whoa!

-That's it!

Now, bring the front tool forward to cut out the barrel shape.

There we go.

-That's it!

-Whoa!

-So, that's it?

-That's it, the roughed out bobbin.

This is beginning to look more familiar,

but a separate lathe is required to achieve the finished shape.

-Wahey!

-You've got your bobbin now.

-And look at that!

-There you go, one finished bobbin.

Look at that, we've made a bobbin!

Hey-hey!

This mill isn't just a museum.

There's real history within these walls.

Being here is as close as one can ever get

to experiencing this lost industry of the Lakes.

Today Stott Park is still dusty and noisy

and just dangerous enough to feel exciting,

but imagine what it was like in the late 1800s, in its heyday.

During the Second World War, they diversified production

to make the wooden rungs for rope ladders and the handles for shovels.

Later on, they would make egg cups and yo-yos,

and skipping rope handles.

And they were still producing bobbins commercially until 1971.

But Stott Park is lucky to retain the expertise

of someone who remembers the active days of the industry.

David Steely worked at a nearby mill from the age of 15.

I made a bobbin...

-..what do you think of that?

-Good. As good as mine.

-Is it?

-Yeah!

-I mean, how many of these do you think you've made in your life?

Oh...thousands!

-I should say millions, actually.

-Millions?!

I mean, how many did you make a day?

Roughly, on that one, about 1,200.

-A day?

-A day.

Was there a camaraderie amongst the people you worked with?

Did you enjoy it?

Oh, yeah. Oh, you've got to enjoy it. Otherwise you'd get bored.

You had to enjoy it.

And what was it like as the mills were closing down?

-Did it really feel like the end of an era for everyone?

-Oh, it did.

You thought you had a job for life, they'd always want bobbins, but no.

It was the age of plastic

that finally killed off the Lakeland bobbin industry.

And of the 60-odd mills that once existed,

this is the only one left intact.

Stott Park may now only produce the odd souvenir bobbin for people like me

but I love the thought that this tranquil corner of the world

was once a powerhouse of production.

And while industries rise and fall,

it shouldn't stop us remembering that once upon a time

these seemingly inconsequential pieces of shaped Lakeland timber

were fundamental to an industry that led the world.

Still to come on Britain's Hidden Heritage...

Apprentice star Nick Hewer takes to the skies

to celebrate Britain's very first aerial photographers.

Let's just see whether I can match the pictures taken

by those great pioneers.

But first, back in Northern Ireland,

and my behind-the-scenes tour of Mount Stewart continues.

What makes this place so special is that it doesn't feel like a museum,

it really feels like you're walking around someone's home,

just like one of the many house guests

who were entertained here over the years.

Well, it's a real treat to explore the house. I like being nosy,

it gives me inspiration.

Now, the whole house, in fact,

is full of the most wonderful fine art and antiques.

Everybody in the family, throughout their history,

had an exceptional eye and very good taste.

A lot of the furniture here was brought from their London residence.

One of them was this bed,

and it's got that sort of shabby chic look to it.

A real sense of, sort of, faded elegance and a continental feel

with this overhanging canopy with the family coat of arms up there.

I like the fact that it's bruised and it's chipped,

and the gilding is flaking off.

It gives it, like the rest of the house, a real sense of theatre.

But, of course,

sometimes the line between well worn and worn out is a fine one

and, like any historic home, Mount Stewart has suffered over the years from age.

Recently, when cracks started appearing upstairs,

an investigation found that a main supporting beam

had started to give way,

leaving the house requiring extensive work

and that, in any listed building, brings up the oncoming debate.

Restoration versus conservation.

Bring a house back to how it looked when it was new

or leave it exactly as it was found, in all its faded glory?

Well, Joe, you must see first-hand the problems,

the structural problems here at the house,

-cos you're the surveyor for the National Trust.

-Yeah.

I have, over the past few years,

I've actually seen the conditions getting gradually worse and worse.

And it came to the point recently, last year,

where we felt something drastically had to be done.

And I guess this is where it gets difficult

because it's conservation against, sort of, restoration, really.

There's only so much you can do, isn't there?

There's only so much you can do because we're a conservation charity

so our primary aim is to conserve what we have

but at the same time, we can also take the chance,

while we're doing the conservation work,

to do some restoration work as well.

What are the obvious signs that you are looking out for here

in these big historic houses? What's the first thing that normally goes?

The main problem is trying to keep water out

and keeping moisture out of the building itself.

They're very old buildings, so it takes a lot of work

and a lot of time in trying to keep water out.

So, really, it's all about prevention.

It's prevention all the time.

But it's not just the structure of the building

that is suffering from the elements.

The contents of all the rooms also require monitoring

as they too are starting to feel their age.

Now, there's one thing in common

that all of our historic houses suffer from. That's wear and tear

and, of course, light damage.

Now, here's a wonderful example of what sunlight can do to an object.

Especially right here,

underneath this light scoop of the lantern up there.

Look at the colour of it. You can see it's particularly quite faded,

but if I turn it around like that,

there you are, look at that vibrant hue of blue, isn't that gorgeous?

That's exactly how it would have been in 1750,

when this chair was made.

So, you can see there are two choices, really.

Restoration, complete with re-upholstery,

or conservation, and in this case, it's got to be conservation.

It's now being carefully monitored so it won't get any worse,

but looking at this, you know, it just is such a loved chair.

It has been used. There's wear and tear on it.

You see, here, look,

where it's starting to, sort of, pull apart there.

That's somebody's neck and that's somebody's shoulders there, rubbing against it.

It just gives us a picture of the social history of how it was used.

It had family ownership and it's been well loved.

When the same family live in the same house for many generations,

furniture and belongings inevitably begin to accumulate over the years.

Mount Stewart, with its many rooms,

has become a treasure trove of unopened boxes and unseen artefacts.

The cataloguing of the contents is an ongoing process

and almost every week brings a new and exciting find.

So, with only half of the house open to the public,

it leaves a lot of rooms to discover lots more treasure in.

Absolutely, it's quite exciting.

Lots of costume, lots of other bits we're uncovering,

very exciting time to be able to get it on show.

-And you're finding this on a daily basis, are you?

-Reasonably, yes.

-OK, can we have a look inside here?

-Absolutely.

What have we got? Da-da, wow! Look at that! Whose was that?

This is Frederick IV, Marquess of Londonderry.

He was the Knight of the Order of St Patrick and this is his robes.

As you can see, you've got the sash of the order.

-When does this date back to?

-1856.

Gosh, it looks like it was made yesterday, doesn't it?

-It's fabulous.

-The quality of the needlework! Can I touch this?

-Please do.

-It's a wool, isn't it? It's a brushed wool.

It's brushed wool and this is the metallic thread, here.

All the detail.

Again, details on the Shamrock and the Crown,

being part of the chivalric order.

-Oh, look at the lining. Oh, that's really nice, isn't it?

-Padded.

But it's the richness of the red that's as bright today

-as it was 150 years ago.

-Nice jolly scarlet.

-Yes.

Of course, once each new find is uncovered,

the challenge for Mount Stewart's custodians

is like with the rest of the house,

to keep it in its current condition for future generations to enjoy.

Now, heritage comes in all different shapes and sizes

and this week our guest reporter, Nick Hewer,

has been to Wiltshire to celebrate two pioneers of the skies.

Ever since I was a small boy, I've been fascinated by those pioneers

who, whether by land, sea or air,

managed to stretch the boundaries and extend our horizons.

And today I want you to join me in celebrating a small band of aviators

who, just after the First World War, kicked off a business

that ended up leaving this country with the most extraordinary legacy.

Today I've come back to my home town of Swindon

to investigate a very special photographic archive.

It forms a comprehensive aerial account

of a Britain that is now long gone.

It's called the Aerofilms Collection.

Aerofilms was the country's first aerial photographic business.

It was set up in 1919, just at the end of the First World War,

when flying, quite frankly, was novel, daring and pretty dangerous.

But it's the story of Aerofilms, really,

it's a sort of story that absolutely intrigues me.

Pioneering, daring and successful.

With satellite imagery

and all those lovely helicopter shots you get in a programme like this,

we're only too aware today of what our country looks like from above,

but less than a century ago, such views had simply never been seen.

In 1919, two men aimed to change that.

Frances Lewis Wills was an expert in air reconnaissance,

whilst Claude Grahame-White had been the most celebrated British aviator

of the pre-war period.

He owned his own aerodrome and plane manufacturing business,

and the business which they started

went on to take more than a million aerial photographs of our country,

a national treasure that is only now receiving the attention it has long deserved.

Right!

So, this is the oldest material in the Aerofilms Collection.

Want to look at the first plate they took?

-When would that have been?

-July 1919.

Perfect.

English Heritage, along with their Scottish and Welsh counterparts,

have recently taken possession of the Aerofilms back catalogue.

The precious negatives are now kept safe

in a series of vast humidity and temperature controlled stores.

So, that's it then? 1919, their first shot. Yeah.

-There we go. There's the print.

-OK.

-What is it? It's a factory.

-No, this is where they were based in Hendon.

-OK!

-This is the London Country Club.

-Yeah.

With its sports pitches,

and these are Claude Grahame-White's factory buildings.

-Right.

-So, the first photograph they took was their home.

-Was home.

-Yeah.

Why not?

But from these local beginnings,

the Aerofilms machine rolled out across the country in the 1920s.

From smog-filled London to industrial Newcastle

and the building of Tyne Bridge.

Whether it was for corporate clients, picture postcards

or surveying work for the ordnance survey,

Aerofilms' work took them to all regions

and left us with a lasting and artistic record of our country.

And for the first time in 2012,

that record is now available for all of us to enjoy.

The oldest and most valuable negatives in the Aerofilms Collection

are systematically being cleaned, catalogued and geo-tagged

for inclusion in a new website.

And what have we got here, then?

This is Liverpool, taken in September 1920.

So, we're using modern technology to work with the levels, the exposure,

and we increase the contrast

to try and get the best out of the negative...

-Without manipulating it.

-Without manipulating at all.

We try to remain as true to the original as possible.

By the end of 2014,

almost 100,000 images, spanning 1919 to 1953, will be fully searchable.

Looking at those photographs, that's one thing,

but I want to get more of a feel for the early days of flying

and aerial photography.

Just how did those daring guys, way back after the First World War,

manage to take those extraordinary photographs

that we've seen in here today?

To help find out, I'm heading across Gloucestershire

to visit a small airfield.

It's one of the few places

where you can turn the aviation clock right back.

This is a Stampe SV4 biplane.

Built in the mid 1930s, it's still in full working order

and it's about as close as I'm going to get

to experiencing the world of Francis Wills and Claude Grahame-White.

But it wasn't just the aviation technology

that was from a different era.

Right, so what we've got here is a genuine 1920s,

1930s aerial plate camera.

Right. Not quite as sophisticated looking as the modern camera,

that's for sure!

No, this particular plate holder enables you to take two photographs.

If you wanted to take more photographs, you had to have more plate holders.

Just two exposures?

-So they'd go up with a satchel full of these, would they?

-Yeah.

Imagine going through all that in the north of Scotland in February!

And leaning over the cockpit.

Leaning over with the wind passing at 90 miles an hour,

or whatever it was, and get it right.

Well, now it's my chance to see if I can get it right too.

I'm taking to the skies myself, 1930s style.

But luckily for me, I won't be armed with plate glass technology,

I'm getting a significant helping hand.

Antique cameras like Colin's are real collector's items -

very expensive rare things,

and there's no way one of his is leaving the ground.

So, we're going all modern. Modern digital.

Let's just see whether I can match

the pictures taken by those great pioneers.

My pilot today is Tizi Hodson.

She's going to take me on an aerial tour of Cheltenham and Gloucester,

an area photographed regularly by Aerofilms in the early years.

Now, this is real flying!

No hint of duty-free...

not a sign of any cabin crew...

..they've not even bothered to tarmac the runway...

but there's plenty of in-flight entertainment!

In the 1920s, some of the local landmarks we know today

were already familiar fixtures.

Gloucester Cathedral, for instance, seen here in 1928

and way back in 1920, the home of the Gold Cup, Cheltenham Racecourse.

-Now, can you see the cathedral over there?

-I don't see it.

-I've got this spire that's in the way.

-Oh, OK, I'll turn it round.

There you go, is that better?

Yes, that's much better.

I've got autofocus, magic!

And a whacking great zoom lens

but it's still very difficult keeping the thing steady.

So, here I am, soaring serenely over the Cotswolds in June.

I'm sure this would hardly rank as Aerofilms' toughest engagement.

And yet, strapped in, surrounded by wing and fuselage,

it's really rather difficult to get a clear shot of anything,

let alone the thing you're interested in.

-You know something? It's not easy.

-I know, it's not easy.

-It is not easy.

-You can't move at all.

I don't know how those guys did it with big plate cameras.

I do not, I cannot.

-You got that?

-Yeah.

But the team of the 1920s did have one advantage.

They were able to take a rather relaxed approach to civil aviation.

Aerofilms were well known for flying low

and taking the odd risk in pursuit of the perfect shot.

Happily, Tizi and I have not been pushing any boundaries today,

but the sense of freedom you get

and the simplicity of open air flying has been a real pleasure.

Meanwhile, my photography has been strictly amateur.

'Oh, that's terrible!'

No.

Oh, that's not bad! Gloucester Cathedral.

Bit of wing.

Oh, that's the racecourse, look, in its entirety.

Now, that...

I'm not sure it would win a prize, but it'll do.

So, amongst dozens of images, I've achieved the odd passable snapshot.

On the other hand, the team at Aerofilms were masters,

both of the air and the plate glass camera.

In this area alone, there's evidence of their steady hand,

their beautiful composition and their perfect exposure.

And as the years pass,

these images become an ever more important piece of our heritage.

I take my flying helmet off to those two entrepreneurs

that started Aerofilms.

Entrepreneurial, gung ho and daring,

but they changed the way in which we see our world.

Today it's a breeze -

satellite photography, digital cameras, Sat Nav,

but remember, it all started off with an old crate like this,

a big plate glass camera and two great Britons.

For the final part of my tour of Mount Stewart, in Northern Ireland,

I've saved one of the highlights,

a place that is not usually open to the public.

Standing to the east of the house, with fine views across the lough,

is the Temple of the Winds.

It was conceived by the first Marquess

as a centrepiece for garden parties and outdoor entertainment.

It is, in short, a summer house on a classical scale.

Well, it looks like I'm standing at the entrance

of a very grand country house with fine architectural detail -

fluted columns and Corinthian capitals.

And if you think the outside is exquisite,

wait until you see the inside.

Oh, wow!

Gosh, what a summer house! What a party place!

Could you imagine dancing and drinking, and partying

underneath that flickering light?

My word, look at the ceiling!

Look at the intricate detail in the plasterwork.

That's by William Fitzgerald, a local craftsman,

a man at the top of his genre.

What a floor!

I don't think I've seen anything as good as that in my life on a floor.

Again, by local tradesman John Ferguson.

Mixed variety of woods here.

Mahoganies, walnuts and the lighter detail, this blonde wood,

well, that's holly.

So, you've got wonderful variegated hues and great depths of colour,

and beautiful, rich patternation all over this floor.

This is spectacular, and it really has stood the test of time as well.

God, what a privilege to come here and see this.

Well, the Temple of the Winds isn't the only tower on the estate.

In fact, it's small fry compared to its bigger brother,

which is all the way over there. Look at that, can you see it?

Just sticking up on the highest point of land.

And it gives you an idea of just how large their estate was

because that was built on their land, look.

It's massive!

Scrabo Tower was built in 1857

as a memorial to Charles Stewart, the third Marquess.

He was one of the Duke of Wellington's generals

in the Napoleonic wars

and the great-grandfather of Winston Churchill.

Interestingly, the tower was built by subscription from local tenants.

It tells much about the regard

in which the Londonderry family were once held

but also how, as the 20th century arrived,

their aristocratic world was destined to change.

'Well, it is certainly is an impressive view from up here.'

I can understand why the tower was positioned here,

so you can see it across the lough

when you're looking out the windows at Mount Stewart.

I mean, it's the highest point, isn't it?

And it is impressive once you're this close. Why was it built?

Well, it was built as a mark of gratitude to the Londonderry family

for their role as landlord in the famine, the great potato famine.

And it would have been those tenants who, during the potato famine,

would have been very dependent on the goodwill of the landlord

to see them through very difficult times, obviously.

Well, we're nearly there, Olwen.

Do you know, it's built like a fortified building.

-Meant to last.

-Yes.

-A monument for ever.

-Yes, well, it looks like it'll be here for a while.

-Look at that view!

You can see all the land that the family would have owned.

Were they popular further afield

or was it more about political divide?

Well, yes, in many ways the history of the family

has always been about political divisions.

The seventh Marquess of Londonderry, as Minister for Education in the Northern Ireland government,

was very much responsible for implementing an education act

which, in some ways, was very forward thinking

and sought to introduce non-denominational education here,

but this was really very much weakened by opposition,

both from the Catholic Church

and from the Protestant church leaders as well,

so it never really materialised in the way he hoped it would.

Were the Londonderry family seen as outsiders?

I think, in some ways, by this time they actually were.

I think the class to which they belonged,

the landed elite, as it were,

was, by this stage, starting to become seen much more as outsiders.

They didn't quite get the political divisions that existed here.

So, did this place do its job?

Are they remembered, and remembered fondly?

They are certainly remembered.

Most people in Northern Ireland would be familiar with the name.

I don't think most people

would really associate this tower with the Londonderry family

and certainly when a lot of people look at this,

they know it is a landmark

but in terms of remembering the famine,

remembering them as landowners in this area,

I think that's very much a part of history

and not very much something that people are conscious of today.

Inevitably, as the 20th century progressed,

the Londonderrys became increasingly detached

from the political system.

The cost of running their many stately homes

and the burden of death duties

meant that bit by bit, the estates and the contents were sold off,

including their beloved country retreat, here in County Down.

For nearly two centuries, the Londonderry family

were at the very heart of political and social life

here in Northern Ireland and Britain.

The family may now have lost its influence

but Mount Stewart, with its remarkable country house collection

and magnificent gardens,

stands as a lasting testament to this remarkable dynasty.

If you'd like to find out more information on today's show,

then check out our website at:

Next time on Britain's Hidden Heritage,

I travel to Gloucestershire and to a castle

that has been occupied by one family for almost 900 years.

This is incredible. Absolutely incredible.

This is real history in the making here.

Clare Balding finds a set of historic photos

that have helped to save some of our most important buildings...

Wow, this is absolutely stunning!

..Charlie Luxton goes to the top of London's very first skyscraper...

I am now 180 metres above the whole of central London!

..and guest reporter Dame Kelly Holmes

celebrates an unsung fighting machine

that changed the course of World War II.

It's filthy, it's small, it's claustrophobic,

but they've done us proud.

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd