Reading to Alton Great British Railway Journeys

'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.'

Using my Bradshaw's Guide,

I get a good idea of how the railways speeded up communication

in a way that both excited and bewildered the Victorians.

We who live in an age of information technology

can understand just what it was like.

'I'm following that Victorian superhighway through

'the south of England to discover how the Industrial Revolution

'was carried deep into the countryside.

'Today, I'll be tasting a Victorian superfood.'

You've got a basket of the stuff. That lovely, tangy, mustardy taste.

'Discovering an industrial process unchanged since Bradshaw's day.'

So, all of that is happening

-by a process that started with the waterwheel?

-Yes.

-Brilliant.

'And experiencing life as a 19th-Century train driver.'

-I love that rhythm of the steam engine.

-The engine is talking to you.

-Absolutely.

'So far, I've explored the royal county of Berkshire.

'And now I'm heading south

'towards some of the Victorians' favourite holiday spots,

'and my final destination, the Jurassic isle of Portland.

'This stretch starts in Reading

'and takes me across the county border

'to explore the railway's impact on rural Hampshire.

'Finishing up in the market town of Alresford.

'To reach my first stop,

'I'm travelling on the Great Western Railway,

'famously built by Isambard Kingdom Brunel.'

As a frequent traveller from Paddington to places west,

I'm often frustrated that nearly every train stops at Reading.

I ask myself, "Why Reading?"

Well, today, I have an opportunity to find out.

I'm going to alight at Reading.

'The Great Western Main Line was the first railway

'to reach Reading in 1840.

'It was quickly joined by other lines.

'And by the time my guidebook was written, Reading was well on the way

'to becoming the busy junction town that it is today.

'Millions of people pass through this station every year.

'But at one time, these rails were famous for a particular cargo.'

So, Reading. And my Bradshaw's Guide says that this is the home

of the manufactory of Huntley and Palmers biscuits.

I remember those from childhood times. Wasn't there a rhyme,

"Huntley and Palmers make them like biscuits used to be"?

So now I'm off to see what remains of that manufactory.

'Reading station today holds few clues to the town's industrial past.

'But for over a century, arriving here,

'you knew you'd come to the biscuit town.

'Thanks to the railways, Reading was home to the biggest

'and best-known biscuit manufacturer in the world.

'In the town centre, there are rows of red-brick terraces

'built for the factory workers.

'But are today's residents in touch with their biscuit heritage?'

Good morning. So, how do you like living here?

I've lived here all my life and I love it.

Did you have any connection with the biscuit world?

My husband worked for the associated deliveries,

but my father-in-law worked for Huntley and Palmers.

Did your family tell you anything about working there?

No. But when you left school, girls went to work at Huntley and Palmers.

As a child, I went to Huntley and Palmers

to see the conveyor belts working with the school and everything.

-But it didn't fall to you to work for the biscuit company?

-No.

-Morning, sir.

-Morning, sir.

I wondered what you could tell me about the history of these houses.

I think they were initially built

for the workers of the biscuit factory.

Reading is sometimes called The Biscuit Town.

-Does it still keep that name?

-Um, I don't think so.

It's been such a long time since the biscuit factory closed.

The football team used to be called The Biscuit Men years ago,

but now they're called The Royals, the Royal County of Berkshire,

so I don't think many people now, um...

regard it as The Biscuit Town.

-The biscuit connection has gone soggy.

-It has indeed.

-Thank you again.

-Nice to have met you.

'In its heyday, the biscuit factory

'covered an area of 30 acres in the heart of Reading.

'But extraordinarily, today, all that remains

'is the old recreation building, now converted into flats.

'I'm meeting curator Brendan Carr at the town museum

'to hear the story of one of Britain's first global brands.'

Good to see you. Is this either Huntley or Palmer?

This is George Palmer MP.

A very important figure in Reading's history.

Biscuits are fundamental to Reading, aren't they?

Essential to the town's development in fact, yeah.

'George Palmer joined forces with Thomas Huntley in 1841

'and set about transforming the family firm.

'He built a state-of-the-art factory

'alongside the Great Western Main Line

'and quickly realised the railway itself

'could be a goldmine for the canny entrepreneur.'

In the very early days of the railways,

there wasn't any catering carriages.

Huntley and Palmers cottoned onto that straightaway

and realised it was an opportunity

to market their biscuit factory in Reading

by handing out samples of their biscuits

to the first-class passengers and saying,

"On your left-hand side as you go through Reading,

"you'll see the big biscuit factory."

So they were pioneers in all sorts of ways.

'Before long, the factory was running its own locomotives

'along private railway sidings to the main lines.

'Exporting mass-produced biscuits across the country.

'To keep them fresh in transit,

'the firm had the brainwave of using specially-designed tins.

'The forerunners of our modern biscuit tins.'

This is the average kind of tin you would find.

You'd go into the grocer's shop, and this...

-You can see through it.

-Yes. This contained the digestives.

-Did these fit nicely on the railway?

-Well, in fact, they did.

They were specially shaped slightly off-square

so that they could fit neatly into, um, the carriages

and use as much space as possible.

They're not quite a square.

'This clever packaging and the growing railway network

'meant biscuits could be exported further and faster than ever before.

'And they soon became a symbol of empire.'

How far afield did Huntley and Palmers' biscuits go?

Well, it's extraordinary.

There's a story that when the first Western travellers reached Tibet,

they were greeted with Huntley and Palmer biscuits.

-What?

-It was extraordinary.

But what we do know is they did reach as far as the South Pole.

This is a letter from Captain Scott

to the Huntley and Palmer biscuit factory,

acknowledging receipt of the supply of biscuits,

bemoaning the fact that some of the biscuits had broken.

"We find on opening the tins of Antarctic and Emergency Biscuits

"that the biscuits are considerably broken."

Absolutely amazing, isn't it?

Really quite moving to, er, to have these artefacts here.

'At the start of the 20th Century,

'the biscuit factory employed 5,000 people.

'But by the 1970s, the need to modernise

'meant that production was moved to Liverpool.

'The Reading factory produced its last biscuit in 1976.

'But Brendon's baked me a Victorian recipe

'to give me a taste of Reading's past.'

This is exactly the sort of biscuit

that George Bradshaw would have known, I expect.

-Yes. Try one of those.

-Thank you very much.

So, baked to an 1860s recipe.

-The long Jamaica.

-The long Jamaica.

It's very plain and lacking in sugar

-compared with the modern biscuit, isn't it?

-That's right.

It's very nice, actually. I like that.

But it doesn't have that manufactured sweet taste

-that a modern biscuit has.

-That's it.

Different Victorian palate.

'I like to imagine Victorian passengers

'nibbling one of those

'as they thumbed the pages of their Bradshaw's Guide.

'And now it's time for me to catch my next train.'

I'm back at Reading station, a place well known to Queen Victoria,

who gave her royal patronage to Huntley and Palmers.

I'm glad I got off at Reading.

I now know that through its railways,

this town exported biscuits,

and, just as importantly, tins, to the world.

'I'm now leaving the bustle of Reading behind

'and heading south towards a much more rural landscape.

'To get to my next destination, I have to change trains

'at Basingstoke and take a line through stunning countryside.'

Next station stop on this service, Micheldever.

I've crossed the border into Hampshire

and my Bradshaw's Guide is enthusiastic.

"The circus of Hampshire is beautifully varied

"with gently-rising hills,

"fruitful valleys and extensive woodlands."

And as I glimpse it through the trees, so it appears to be.

'In Bradshaw's day, this landscape was being transformed

'as new railways lines radiated out from London,

'and isolated villages

'were suddenly within easy reach of the capital.

'I'm leaving the train at the tiny station of Micheldever.

'It only gets a passing reference in my Bradshaw's Guide,

'but thanks to its position on the Southampton to London line,

'this stop played a starring role in British transport history.'

George Bradshaw began by mapping the canals

which were supplanted by the railways.

I've come to Micheldever to look at a technology

which would eventually lead to the closure

of vast amounts of that Victorian rail network.

'Throughout the 19th Century, the railways continued to spread.

'But before they'd reached their zenith,

'the first motorcars had started to appear on Britain's roads.

What an unbelievable machine!

'I'm meeting vintage car enthusiast Chris Loader to see how Micheldever station

'sped the arrival of this new threat to the rails.'

-This is the most beautiful thing. What is it?

-It's a Peugeot.

It was owned by Sir David Salomon of Broomhill in Tunbridge Wells.

-What age?

-1898.

-And it's on the road, clearly.

-It's on the road, yes.

What is the significance of Micheldever in motoring history?

The first car journey made in a petrol-driven car

was taken from this station.

'In 1895, a motoring pioneer called Evelyn Ellis

'had a custom-built automobile imported from France

'and delivered by rail from Southampton to Micheldever station.

'The trip he took in his new horseless carriage

'changed travel forever.'

-So, 1895 is the first recorded car journey in this country?

-Yes.

-Where did he travel to?

-He travelled to his home in Datchet,

which is just next to Windsor.

So a total distance of about 56 miles.

-Remember, no tarmac.

-No.

-And people must have been astonished as he went along his way.

-Yep.

-And can we take a ride in it today?

-I'd love to drive you.

'According to the records,

'Evelyn Ellis rolled out of this station at 9:26am on 5th July 1895...'

Here we go.

'..and took over eight hours to reach his final destination.

'Chris is taking me out in his vintage vehicle,

'built just three years later,

'to give me a flavour of that groundbreaking journey.'

You can imagine, if he had broken down in any shape or form,

no AA, no RAC to come and pick him up.

No petrol stations.

I believe in order to get petrol, you had to go to a chemist.

So imagine us on that first journey, we'd be passing horses or bicycles.

People would be stopping, I imagine, in their tracks,

-to have a look at us.

-Yeah.

And I believe on that actual trip,

there were 133 horses which they passed,

which is about three horses per mile.

Out of that, there were only a few horses

which were a bit sort of terrified by it, which wasn't bad, really.

No. So the horses took the arrival of their rival quite calmly.

Yes. I don't think there were much problems at all, really.

'Evelyn Ellis' experimental trip was such a success

'that by the end of the year, 20 automobiles

'had already been brought into the country.'

Have you ever thought of the paradox that Evelyn Ellis' car

was delivered to Micheldever station by train?

I think they were known in those days as road locomotives.

And, of course, as people bought more and more of them,

that would see off many of the railway lines.

If one person had a car, they all wanted them.

Chris, look at this. Now we are in the open, it's absolutely glorious.

We're in a 19th-Century horseless carriage.

I think this is bliss, don't you?

'It's easy to see how this new and exciting mode of travel

'captured the imagination of those motoring pioneers.

'But in Bradshaw's day, the train was still king.

'My guidebook doesn't say much about Whitchurch, my next stop,

'but it, too, was touched by the Industrial Revolution.

'To my surprise, this sleepy Hampshire town

'on the London to Salisbury line

'is home to a Victorian silk mill that's still in full working order.'

-Stephen. It's a wonderful place!

-Well, welcome.

This is clearly your waterwheel. Is that ancient?

That's a later wheel that dates to the 1890s.

-This mill's always been powered by water.

-Back to what time?

-Back to 1817.

-1817.

-Yes.

-And this is still operating the mill, is it?

-Yes.

-This is Britain's oldest working silk mill in its original building.

-Fantastic.

'Mid-19th-Century Britain had a flourishing silk industry

'which, at its peak, employed 130,000 people.

'The first water-powered mills were set up in the Midlands,

'but as they proved successful, imitators followed their lead.

'By the 1830s, there were silk mills like this

'in 20 counties in Britain.

'The fast-flowing River Test made Whitchurch a perfect spot.'

This is a fantastic sight. I mean, this hugely powerful wheel

transferring its power through this axle

-and then causing these wheels to turn in a horizontal plain.

-Yes.

-And then that's transferring the power up here.

-Yes.

How does all this relate to silk?

HE LAUGHS

Well, it looks very course, doesn't it, actually?

And this is the amazing thing about silk.

The machinery is really very industrial.

It gives you a sense of the Industrial Revolution.

You're dealing with something incredibly fine. The contrasts are extraordinary.

So the wheel I saw turning the other side

now transfers the power through this leather band.

That's right. To the shaft here.

And that, in turn, delivers it to a shaft.

-It's like following a thread of cotton through a building, isn't it?

-Yes, it is.

-And that goes all the way...?

-Yes.

Absolutely fantastic imagination. Ah!

-And now all of these things are spinning, too?

-Yes.

So all of that is happening by a process

that started with the waterwheel.

-Yes.

-It's brilliant. Brilliantly effective.

'The railways connected provincial mills like this with new markets

'and brought skilled workers from the capital to join the local workforce.'

And when you look back at the Census, it's very clear

that there were cousins, sisters and brothers all working here.

How many people?

At one time, there were 100 people here.

And their age ranges were enormous.

-From 13 up to 90.

-13.

-Of course, in those days, children could work in factories.

-Yes.

'The late 19th Century saw the industry decline, due to cheaper foreign imports.

'But Whitchurch Mill survived.

'The machinery is unchanged since Bradshaw's day

'and is still making Victorian textiles for everything

'from costume dramas to historic buildings.'

This isn't just here as a museum,

-you are still producing silks.

-We are, indeed.

So very often, you are having to recreate something

-that was done in Victorian times.

-Yes.

And we might only receive a small fragment of the original fabric,

because it's so precious,

and have to work out how it was all set up,

the type of yarn used, and the colours used to create it.

-There's detective work involved.

-In fact, some years ago,

-we reproduced fabrics in Queen Victoria's railway carriage.

-Really?

-Yes.

-Obviously, I find that very thrilling,

-and George Bradshaw would, too.

-Yes.

'It's remarkable to think in Bradshaw's time,

'even this peaceful corner of the country was a hive of industry.

'Day two of this leg of my journey

'and I'm on another of the many lines that connected this region

'with the capital in Bradshaw's era.

'My route passes through the rolling chalk hills of the Hampshire Downs.

'This pretty countryside became a major source of wealth

'when it was used to grow one of the Victorians' favourite foods.

'I'm leaving the train at Alton to find out more.'

Alton. What a delightful station.

It's painted in the old green and cream colours, it's really old fashioned.

It really takes you back.

'In the 19th Century, this whole area was famous for a single crop -

'watercress.

'This aquatic plant has always grown well,

'thanks to Hampshire's mineral-rich springs.

'It was the arrival of the railways in the 1860s

'that transformed this into the outstanding watercress area in Britain.

'I've come to meet farmer Tom Aymery on Manor Farm in nearby Alresford.'

It is a fantastic site, all these watercress beds.

It is quite unique. There's not many places in the country

that have such a large array of watercress beds in one location.

And farmed like this, how far does this go back?

A long way. Watercress beds like this

have been really farmed for around about 120-150 years.

-So, that makes them Victorian?

-It does, indeed, yes.

It was that sort of development in the Victorian era

that really set the standards

for how watercress has been grown, and is still grown today.

'In the 19th Century, Britain's industrial cities were growing fast.

'Urban workers needed fresh vegetables from the countryside,

'and watercress was cheap to grow.

'Demand soon skyrocketed.'

Pre-Victorian period, watercress would have been grown

in lots of locations in small volumes.

And what was happening was with London developing and obviously

losing the area that you could grow watercress,

they started looking for locations

that naturally had a lot of spring water.

And that may be down in Dorset, where we have farms, and also around here.

'This was the ideal location for industrial-scale watercress production.

'But first, the growers had to solve a major problem.'

It was very important. It had to be transported fresh and quickly.

It's one of those products that's naturally quite perishable.

-So they had to move it fast.

-By railway, I assume?

-Absolutely.

The watercress was harvested on these farms,

placed into what we call wicker flats,

then sent up to London or whichever city or town it would be,

then made into bunches and sold.

'In the 19th Century, it was thought that watercress

'could cure everything from hiccups to freckles.

'And thanks to the trains,

'city dwellers now had an abundant supply of this superfood

'delivered to their doorstep.'

-Victorians believed it to be very healthy. Were they right?

-They were indeed.

The benefits are derived from the spring water.

That water contains a lot of vitamins and minerals

high in calcium, for instance.

And that calcium is then taken up by the crop.

So it's full of Vitamin C, calcium,

but other minerals that are very important.

So it was a very easy source of nutrition.

How were people taking it? Were they buying it in little baskets?

Were they having it in sandwiches? How did they eat it?

The Earl of Sandwich mentioned watercress in his early sandwiches,

which is very convenient,

but they were actually eating it in sort of a cone, which was a bunch.

'Watercress continued to thrive through the two World Wars.

'But by the end of the 20th Century, it had fallen out of favour.

'Now, though, it's back in the spotlight,

'thanks to its health benefits.'

-You've got a basket of the stuff here.

-I have.

I hope not all for me, but may I try some?

Of course. It was picked this morning.

Is there a method?

-No, there isn't. As much as you can fit, really.

-OK.

Hm. Do you know, it takes me back to childhood.

I confess, I don't eat it much these days, but...

Mm! That lovely tangy, mustardy taste.

-That's right.

-Mm! That's brilliant stuff.

'At its peak, it's estimated that growers sold many hundreds

'of tonnes of watercress per week.

'For the railway workers, transporting it

'meant braving all weathers

'and pushing their locomotives to the limit.'

Having seen those beautiful acres of watercress beds,

it's now time to see how the crop was moved

to the markets of Britain

on what was inevitably known as The Watercress Line.

'I've come to Alresford at the start of the Mid Hants Railway,

'which opened in 1865,

'carving a path through the rolling Hampshire Downs.

'It was closed down in 1973,

'but just a few years later, it was reopened as a heritage line.'

Ah! I love this! The old British Railway sign.

The lion and the wheel and the crown.

-Hello.

-Ah. Hello, Michael.

-How lovely to see you.

Nice to meet you. Welcome to The Watercress Line.

-I'm really looking forward to this.

-We've got some uniform for you.

Put that on, then come back and join us.

I'll see you in a moment.

You wait here.

'I've been given the chance to ride on the footplate

'of one of the railway's magnificent steam engines.'

Dressed for the part.

-Do I pass muster?

-You're ready. Please come aboard.

-Thank you.

WHISTLE TOOTS

'Volunteer driver Chris Yates knows how tough it was

'to drive a train on The Watercress Line.'

What's this bit of line like?

Um, it could be hard work. Especially for the firemen

-who had to shovel the coal to produce the steam.

-Hard work, why?

Because we've got a long hill to go up.

For about four miles, it climbs about 400 foot.

Quite demanding for a steam engine.

Absolutely. And with the heavy train behind you,

obviously, you'll need the steam to do that.

'At its peak, 16 steam trains a day braved this challenging route.'

Michael, we're now on one of the steepest parts of the line.

-You can probably see how steep it is.

-Very steep.

The engine's labouring a little bit with the weight of the train.

But if you'd like to have a go, please feel free.

What do I do?

We've got the regulator here.

-That emits steam.

-Does that need any movement?

That moves up.

So if you get underneath it and lift it up. Give it a...a yank.

Bit more, bit more, bit more, bit more.

That's it.

-You can probably hear the beat of the engine.

-Yes.

If you'd like to wind that slightly anticlockwise,

and what we're doing, we're reducing the amount of steam

that's going into the cylinders and making use of the expanisve properties.

-Is it moving OK at the moment?

-It's moving perfectly.

We're moving up the hill quite fast.

I find it a real responsibility driving this thing.

It's so big and heavy.

And the thing about it is you can make it go faster or slower,

but you can't steer it.

'Although it's hard work, driving a locomotive is a boyhood dream.'

-I love that rhythm of a steam engine.

-Absolutely.

I've so often heard it, but today, I can feel it.

You feel it all through your body.

-The engine's talking to you.

-Absolutely.

'Travelling with my Bradshaw's Guide,

'I've seen how the railways helped to send

'the effects of the Industrial Revolution

'rippling through the British countryside.'

On my journeys, I've often thought about the social

and industrial impact of the railways in Victorian Britain.

But having driven this monster,

I'm thinking about the visual impact on the landscape

as this green and pleasant land

was criss-crossed by engines belching fire and steam.

'On the next part of my journey,

'I'll be learning how Victorian engineering made its mark on music.'

-I'm now going to press a pedal.

-HE PLAYS A NOTE

Amazing feeling of power, that.

'Going behind the scenes at a 19th-Century railway works.'

Now, Barry, that is what I call a locomotive. That is fantastic.

'And discovering a landscape that wowed tourists in Bradshaw's day.'

I have this...amazing plunge down to the beach. Whoa!

You have to have a head for heights here.

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