Cheltenham to Wolverhampton 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 go,

what to see and where to stay.

And now, 170 years later,

I'm aboard for a series of rail adventures,

across the United Kingdom,

to see what of Bradshaw's Britain remains.

I'm now completing my journey

from England's South Coast to the West Midlands.

This last leg will take me from Cheltenham Spa,

where refined people took the waters for their health,

to Wolverhampton, where, amidst the coal and smoke,

craftsmen developed techniques of the greatest finesse.

'On this leg, I drive a car powered by the technology of the Victorians...'

Whoa! This is real motoring.

This is the way it was.

'..I visit the castle of the King of Salt...'

It's as though a French chateau had landed

in the Worcestershire countryside.

You've got to take it with a pinch of salt!

'..and I fight a losing battle in the Wars of the Roses.'

I'm ready for the slaughter.

Harder, come on!

I could get a taste for blood!

My journey began in Southampton, took in Hampshire and Berkshire,

went west to Bristol,

crossed the River Severn,

moved on to Gloucestershire,

and ends today in the West Midlands.

This leg begins in Cheltenham,

takes in a Tewkesbury condiment,

learns of another in Droitwich

and ends in Wolverhampton.

I'm heading north on the old Great Western Railway

which, in Bradshaw's day, offered an escape from smoggy,

industrial cities to the country's most famous spa towns,

like my first destination, Cheltenham.

Legend has it that, in 1716, a flock of pigeons discovered

the town's first spring, and local entrepreneurs, noticing

how the birds thrived, realised that there was money to be made.

My Bradshaw's suggests that they were right.

"Cheltenham," says Bradshaw's, "is celebrated for its medicinal waters.

"It's been for the last 60 years one of the most elegant

"and fashionable watering places in England.

"The promenade leads to the Montpellier Spa

"and the Rotunda Pump Room."

The trouble is, you can never bank on things remaining the same.

King George III took the waters here in 1788

and the town's popularity grew.

New spas and, from the 1840s, up to six railway stations were built.

A bank since 1882, the Montpellier Spa building opened in 1817

and nine years later architect JB Papworth added

the Rotunda Pump Room mentioned in my Bradshaw's.

Well, it's evident why this lovely pump room was called the Rotunda,

with its classical dome.

In fact, it reminds me of the Pantheon in Rome.

How wonderfully suited to Cheltenham,

a place of the utmost fashion.

-Excuse me, you're doing a guided tour.

-Yes.

This lovely pump room, was it inspired by the Pantheon in Rome?

Much of Cheltenham is inspired by classical architecture.

And what would have been going on here in the days of the spa?

Well, the ladies and gentlemen would have come in here and there

would have been a large Grecian urn where the pump was installed

and they would have taken the waters, listened to music,

done a little dancing.

It was a social as well as a health-giving experience.

It was a place of sophistication and elegance?

Yes, Cheltenham was known for leisure and pleasure.

I can see from the group that you've brought today that elegance

and sophistication remain the key words today.

Well, since you came in, of course!

Thank you so much.

I'm intrigued by how people got here before the railways arrived in 1840

and Bradshaw's may have the answer.

My guide describes how Mr Gurney's locomotive carriages

took 55 minutes to get from Cheltenham to Gloucester,

not along tracks, but by road.

I had never heard of locomotive road carriages.

I've travelled to Elmstone Hardwicke,

five miles northwest of Cheltenham,

to meet director of the National Steam Car Association, Stuart Gray.

Stuart.

Hello, Michael.

What a lovely sight.

By the vapour rising all around us I take it this is a steam car?

It is, yeah, a Stanley 1910, Stanley Steamer.

I never thought about steam cars - were they common?

Certainly in the United States they were common,

because the United States had gone down the route of developing steam cars

as their pioneering car before Henry Ford came along about 1910.

Now Mr Gurney, apparently, was running a steam carriage in 1831.

I mean, that is just... Well, you know, decades and decades

before the petrol car.

He was very much a pioneer. He was a Cornish scientist.

He was also a chemist and an inventor.

He invented the Gurney stove, an early type of boiler,

and the Bude Light, which was bright enough to light London's streets,

and many other steam-based innovations.

Goldsworthy Gurney was appointed

the Superintendent of Heating, Lighting and Ventilation

in the Houses of Parliament in 1854

and knighted by Queen Victoria in recognition of his inventions.

Back in 1831 he had found himself running steam-powered carriages in Gloucestershire.

You know, 55 minutes from Cheltenham to Gloucester is not bad, is it?

-He was going some!

-He was going some.

He had a successful boiler.

He had found out how he could maximise heat transfer.

Reaching speeds of up to 15mph, Gurney's steam carriages

first ran in London, then from the capital to Bath.

But the Turnpike Trustees on the Cheltenham to Gloucester route,

favouring the stagecoach, imposed prohibitive tolls

on mechanically propelled carriages.

These protectionist measures quickly halted Goldsworthy's

transport business.

So, Stuart, give me a guided tour of a steam car. I've no idea what we're going to find.

So, first of all, underneath the hood is the boiler

and the boiler is a fire tube boiler, it has 527 tubes.

-Just like a locomotive on a railway.

-Just like a locomotive.

The engine is at the back of the car,

very good acceleration.

-Stanleys were the first cars to exceed 100 miles an hour.

-No!

Yes.

Well, I don't think we should do 100 today but can we take a ride?

Absolutely.

-Would you mind holding my Bradshaw's?

-Indeed.

-Brake off.

-Brake off.

-And we are moving.

Whoa!

I have driven steam engines before but, of course,

they were on rails and you didn't have to

think about steering at the same time. I'm enjoying this.

HE CHUCKLES

Well, there is plenty of stored power there, nearly 500lbs of steam pressure.

How good are the brakes on this thing?

They're reasonable.

Stuart, this is real motoring.

This is the way it was!

You could imagine being on the top of Gurney's carriage.

I'd love it. I had never heard of Gurney.

Yet another great discovery in Bradshaw's.

Back to Cheltenham Spa Station to continue towards

my next destination - Tewkesbury.

Bradshaw's tells me that at Tewkesbury cloth and mustard

were made in Shakespeare's time, hence the proverb,

"As thick as Tewkesbury mustard."

Not one that I know.

Tewkesbury now has no railway stations, it used to have two,

but I shall be getting off at Ashchurch

and looking for traces of old railway lines.

ANNOUNCER: 'Ladies and gentlemen, we're now arriving at Ashchurch.'

Tewkesbury Station fell victim to the railway cuts and closed in 1961

but a remnant of the line is still causing controversy.

Flanked by two rivers, low-lying Tewkesbury sits on one

of Britain's most risky flood plains

and the track embankment in this field is thought to have

hindered drainage during the floods of 2007,

the worst in living memory.

Removing the embankment is the job of Flood Risk Manager Anthony Perry.

What's the lie of the land?

Well, we've got the Warwickshire Avon behind us

that flows from Coventry, down through Stratford

and then it meets the River Severn there just over

to our right here in Tewkesbury.

So, am I right in thinking that it's the very convergence,

confluence of two rivers here that gives you the big problems?

Yes, there's a lot of run-off,

a lot of water has to flow through Tewkesbury.

The Victorians were excellent engineers -

are you saying they didn't understand the flood plain issue

when they put the embankment here?

Well, they did put some culverts through the embankment

but, at those times, people lived with the flooding.

When a flood occurred they would brush out the flagstones

and they would be back in their homes very quickly.

Now, when flooding occurs, people can be out for 12 months.

'Despite its propensity to flood,

'Tewkesbury is one of England's best preserved medieval towns.'

Excuse me, just before you go.

I've been looking at some of the lovely buildings in Tewkesbury

and your office is one of the finest - when does it date back to?

Well, actually, it dates back to 1431.

I was looking at these things. What on earth is all this iron structure?

I've never seen that before.

Well, it was a fish shop and a game shop so they used to hang

hare and pheasant and things from here.

So, before all the health and safety legislation you could hang

your hare outside and it didn't matter if it gathered a few flies?

In Shakespeare's play Henry IV, that master of insults Falstaff

says of an adversary that his wit's as thick as Tewksbury mustard!

I'm told its flavour and consistency

come from pungent local horseradish.

Supposedly, Tewkesbury mustard balls covered in gold leaf

were presented to Henry VIII in 1535

and I wonder whether this condiment is still fit for a king.

-Hello.

-Hello, I was looking for some Tewkesbury mustard, please.

Yes, of course.

Have you heard an expression or a proverb that is

mentioned in Bradshaw's guide, "As thick as Tewkesbury mustard"?

-Have you heard that?

-Do you know, I have, actually, yes.

It's not something that I tend to use, personally.

I think people might be a bit offended if I said that.

There's various varieties, then?

There are, yes, you've got lots of different strengths,

-different names and all sorts. Do you want to...?

-Yeah, let me have a look, please.

Well, at the moment we've got in the Catherine Parr's Tewkesbury mustard

and we've also got in the Queen Margaret's.

Well, it's got to be the Queen Margaret

because she was the queen of Henry VI

-and she came a cropper here at Tewkesbury.

-Yes.

Mmmm. Pungent...

English...

thick...

SHE GIGGLES

..and strong!

Mmm.

Wow! Queen Margaret must have been a strong lady

and I've met some of those in my time.

I'm sure you have!

Following my guidebook, I'm heading a mile south of the town,

toward Tewkesbury's most grisly spot.

Bradshaw's has brought me to The Bloody Meadow,

which the book tells me, "is famous for the great

"defeat by Edward IV of the Lancastrians

"under Queen Margaret in 1417."

But clearly Bradshaw's has the date wrong - typographical error - 1471.

From the mid-15th century, the House of York, led by Edward IV,

and the House of Lancaster, led by King Henry VI,

fought a series of civil wars over 30 years

known as the Wars of the Roses.

Each was directly descended from Edward III

and they were fighting for the English crown.

Their final brutal battle took place here at Tewkesbury's Bloody Meadow.

Armour maker Bernie Willoughby knows more.

Tell me what happened on the day of the Battle of Tewkesbury?

The Lancastrians had been effectively run to ground.

Their lines broke, they started to run

and this is where the Yorkists caught up with them. This is where they were cut to pieces.

Now, Bradshaw's says that the heroic Queen Margaret

was taken prisoner by the Yorkists and her son was killed -

-is that accurate?

-That's true, yes.

They took her back to London in a cage.

She was exhibited through the streets.

A very humiliating end for poor Queen Margaret.

A few members of the Plantagenet Medieval Society

are training today and I'm hoping they've not sharpened their swords.

-Ready for the slaughter.

-Oh, yes.

Hello, gentlemen.

Good afternoon, Michael.

Good afternoon, so let me just get my helmet on ready for action.

Thank you.

-So, you guys re-enact the battles?

-We do.

And you actually fight, full contact?

How many injuries do you have?

Fingers - most of the fingers on my hand are broken -

-but that's about it.

-Just show me some basics, will you?

-OK.

What I'm going to do, Michael, I'm going to try and hit you four times.

I'm going to be going for your shoulders and then your legs.

-All right.

-So I'm coming for your shoulder now.

And again.

And again.

-Now, I want you to do the same to me.

-OK.

-Come to me. Go on, then.

-Your shoulder.

Harder, come on!

And then the head.

Go for my head.

I'm getting a taste for blood.

How many people do you get out for one of your re-enactments?

Usually about 3,000 re-enactors for a whole weekend

and then probably 10,000 people watching,

maybe 15,000 on a good year.

On the day of a re-enactment you've got hundreds of people. What's it like?

Exhilarating, fearful,

your blood lust's up.

My ancestors fought in many battles over the centuries

and being able to take on that mantle, put the armour on,

dressed as one of my ancestors, is very, very exciting.

-Can I see the professionals in action?

-Very good.

Thank you.

Unwilling to put my helmet to the test,

I'm beating a hasty retreat to Ashchurch Station,

from where I'll travel to Worcester Shrub Hill

and change onto a northbound London Midland service.

Having changed trains in beautiful Worcester,

I'm now headed for Droitwich.

Bradshaw's tells me "the principal manufacture is fine salt,

"obtained by evaporating the water of brine springs

"more than 100 feet below the surface of the earth."

Tonight I shall stay in what was once the house

of one who produced the finest quality,

known locally as the King of Salt.

Droitwich sits on beds of rock salt

and the brine springs emanating from them have made it synonymous

with the condiment since the Iron Age.

In the 19th century, John Corbett, the son of a lowly boatman,

made his fortune from the mineral.

The King of Salt's castle, Chateau Impney,

is my hotel for the night.

What a beautiful place to end my day and spend the night.

It's as though a French chateau

had landed in the Worcestershire countryside.

You've got to take it with a pinch of salt.

Rejuvenated, I'm breakfasting

with local historian Barbara Middlemass

to find out more about John Corbett.

Explain to me how, in Victorian times,

you could make a fortune out of salt.

Well, salt was a commodity that everybody wanted.

You needed salt for flavouring.

You flavoured your egg with salt this morning.

The housewife needed it for preservation.

They didn't have deep freezes, Michael.

Salt was needed by everybody.

The Romans made salt in Droitwich 2,000 years ago

and they used it, at times, for wages.

At the age of 29, John raised the finance to buy

a contaminated brine well at nearby Bromsgrove.

Using engineering knowledge gleaned from his apprenticeship,

he fixed it, sank new deep wells and created the biggest salt factory

in Europe, producing 120,000 tonnes per year.

The salt was delivered by canal barge

and filled a staggering 1,000 railway freight wagons daily.

I'm bowled over by the house

but why did he decide to do it in a French style?

Because of his wife's connections with Paris.

She'd been born in Paris, so it reminded her of home.

-And what is the style exactly?

-Louis XIII.

Apart from this magnificent house, did he leave his mark elsewhere on Droitwich?

Very much so. In 1899, he provided the money and the land

to build a railway station to bring people into Droitwich.

He was trying to promote the town as a spa resort.

He's a real Victorian figure, isn't he?

Self-made man, engineer, philanthropist.

Yes, very much so.

The Salt King opened St Andrew's Brine Baths in 1887,

making Droitwich the only salt-spa town in Britain.

The baths closed recently and I wonder if the locals remember them.

-Hi.

-Hi there.

Have you had any experience of brine yourself in Droitwich?

Oh, yeah, I used to come up a lot and go to the brine baths up here.

Was it pleasant? Was it not kind of oily?

No, no, but you had to be very careful not to get it in your eyes

and you'd come out... After two or three days

you'd still be finding bits of salt in your ears and in your hair

but it was very relaxing, anyway.

I'm leaving Droitwich and heading northwest

to Smethwick Galton Bridge

to change onto the final train of my current journey.

My very last stop will be Wolverhampton.

Bradshaw's has some good news and some bad.

"Wolverhampton has never suffered from the plague

"but it did not escape the cholera in 1849.

"The houses are of brick and there are not any remarkable edifices."

Nonetheless, using Bradshaw's I will discover remarkable things about Wolverhampton.

Few places better represent the Industrial Revolution

than Wolverhampton.

In the 17th century,

the town made shoe buckles.

By the 19th it was at the heart of British manufacturing.

And the Great Western Railway was here too,

running locomotives to and from this station, now disused.

Bradshaw's reminds us that there used to be two ways

from London to Wolverhampton.

126 miles on the narrow gauge,

or 142 miles on the broad gauge via Oxford and Worcester.

This was the most northerly outpost of the Great Western Railway

and although it's many years since this station was used,

luckily it's quite well preserved.

The GWR opened Wolverhampton Low Level Station in 1854

and in November 1866,

an eagerly awaited train arrived.

Its feted passenger alighted and took an open carriage

to the town square, renamed in her honour.

Here in Queen's Square in Wolverhampton there stands

a fine equestrian statue of Prince Albert,

the husband of Queen Victoria.

It looks as though they're just finishing

the restoration of the statue

and I've arranged to take a closer look.

Victoria had withdrawn from public life for five years

to mourn Albert

but ended her exile that day in Wolverhampton.

I'm keen to know how the town prepared for such a momentous visit.

Museum curator Helen Steatham should know more.

It's a lovely statue.

Where was Queen Victoria at that moment of the unveiling?

A great pavilion had been built that was festooned with flowers

and ribbons and drapes and she was sitting in the pavilion.

It was actually Mr Thornycroft who created the statue

who unveiled it and then the Queen stood up and acknowledged

and it was said she had a tear in her eye.

It's thought that the reason she decided to come to Wolverhampton,

having turned down lots of other invitations,

was because she'd received letters from some widows from Wolverhampton

offering condolences and she'd remembered this.

People came from all over the Midlands on the train.

It was a real grand occasion.

With only nine days' notice, the town went into full speed ahead

and created marvellous arches

to illustrate the crafts of the town,

and they included coal and all the metal and ironworks

and one full of shopkeepers' goods

topped off with japanned ware, which must have looked amazing.

I couldn't tell you what japanning is

so I'm heading to Bantock House Museum,

southwest of the city centre.

Since the town showed off its japanning skills to Her Majesty,

I want to discover just what it was and what, if anything,

links Wolverhampton to Japan.

My guide is former curator Yvonne Jones.

Hello, Yvonne.

What exactly is japanning?

It's a means of decorating a variety of materials with a varnish

which came to be known as Japan Varnish.

It took its name from that country simply because it was imitating

the oriental lacquers

that were imported into this country from Japan, China

and India, some centuries earlier.

Give me an idea of how popular japanned items

became in Victorian Britain?

A lady writing in the 1850s described japanned goods

as being so popular that there wasn't a home in the country

that could be found without an example.

There were japanned papier mache hats,

japanned coffins - they weren't very common, though.

Perhaps most interesting of all were railway carriage doors,

many of which were shipped to Italy.

Ah, yes, they would have very elegant carriage doors in Italy.

Sadly, japanning has virtually died out

but in the museum workshop metal smith John Grayson

is placing images on metal using 19th century enamelling techniques.

-Hello, John.

-Hi, Michael.

I understand that you've been doing work that's reminiscent

of what was being done in Wolverhampton 100 years ago?

Yeah, I'm interested in keeping alive some of that history

and some of that tradition.

How do you set about enamelling?

Well, pop on an apron and we'll give it a go.

So what we are going to do is put some enamel on to

a plain piece of copper

and then fire it in a kiln -

-so fusing glass, basically, to the copper surface.

-Right.

-OK.

We're going to dip the copper into the enamel

and just let the enamel drain off a little bit,

put it onto the trivet

and then it'll be ready to go into the kiln.

-Right in the middle.

-Right in the middle.

Whoa! The heat coming out of there is amazing.

Obviously this is a little kiln.

In the Victorian era when they'd have been enamelling big railway

signs, they'd have had massive kilns to do eight-foot square panels.

Those beautiful station names - they were often enamelled?

Yeah, because it's a very durable surface.

Ideally, these should have a number of coats, a bit like japanning,

building up the layers to make the colours nice and bright.

The next thing we're going to do is put an image onto the surface.

Is that again something the Victorians would have done?

-Yes, we're going to use a transfer.

-Familiar building!

I think so. A few years spent there, I should imagine.

First of all, we need to cut it roughly to size.

What I'd do is use the enamel as a template.

-Parliament faces cuts?

-Yeah!

We've got a tray of water, so the transfer just needs to

go in there and then we slide it onto the surface of the enamel.

Now you've got to stretch all of the air bubbles out of it.

-How's that looking?

-Yep, that's perfect.

-One Houses of Parliament.

-Mmm.

-So, that has to be fired again, does it?

-Yeah.

I commit Parliament to the fire.

So, now that it's cooled down

that beautiful yellow colour has re-emerged.

Yeah, it's nice and bright again and really glossy.

That's virtually finished - just needs to be put into its mount.

There you go.

Ah, I can wear Parliament close to my heart.

Just as I do my Bradshaw's.

The names of great Victorians like Brunel

and Prince Albert are familiar to us all.

What I enjoy about my journeys is uncovering the lives

of other admirable figures previously unknown to me.

Goldsworthy, Gurney and John Corbett were both brilliant engineers

who deserve to be commemorated.

Thanks to my travels with my Bradshaw's,

I've remembered them today.

'On my next adventure, I'll hang out with a notorious Victorian criminal...'

This is a replica of James Rush's death mask.

It does show very clearly where the rope has cut into his neck.

Isn't that grim?!

'..meet a polecat, who's just a nipper...'

Oh!

THEY LAUGH

You've got a claim to fame - you bit a politician!

'..and chip away at an age-old craft.'

-Could you make a flint out of that?

-Yeah, perfect.

THEY CHUCKLE