Boston to Hensall Great British Railway Journeys

'For Victorian Britons, George Bradshaw was a household name.

'At a time when railways were new,

'Bradshaw's guidebook inspired them to take to the tracks.'

I'm using a Bradshaw's guide

to understand how trains transformed Britain.

Its landscape, its industries, society and leisure time.

As I crisscross the country 150 years later,

it helps me to discover the Britain of today.

I'm now crossing Lincolnshire, continuing my journey

towards one of Britain's

most ancient Christian sites at Lindisfarne.

In the decades before my guidebook was published,

religious tolerance had made great advances in Britain.

The bars against Catholics and Protestants

who didn't conform to the Church of England holding public office

had been lifted in the 1820s

and Jews could take their seats in the House of Commons

without swearing a Christian oath from the 1850s.

But my Bradshaw's reminds me that in previous centuries,

some religious minorities had preferred to travel abroad

rather than to stay at home and face persecution.

My journey, which began in the East Midlands city of Derby,

continued on to Nottinghamshire

and will now work its way through to Wakefield in West Yorkshire.

It will then head east to the mighty Humber estuary,

catch the sweet smell of success in York,

then continue up the coast to the industrial cities of the North,

reaching its conclusion on Northumberland's Holy Island.

Today's leg begins in Boston, in the flatlands of Lincolnshire,

slices into Nottinghamshire,

stops off at a South Yorkshire stately home

and weaves through West Yorkshire

before finishing with a ghostly ride to Hensall.

I'll put my culinary skills to the test

using the nation's favourite cooking apple.

Just putting a bit of vigour into this, show it who's boss.

Learn about the forgotten lives in a Victorian lunatic asylum.

There are 2,861 women, men and children

buried three deep in unmarked graves.

'And take the wheel of a surprisingly speedy steam engine.'

I had no idea you were going to go so fast.

-We're ticking over.

-Ha-ha!

"Boston," says my guidebook, "is a port in Lincolnshire

"on the Witham, near the Wash.

"Its namesake, one of the most polished towns in the United States,

"was founded by settlers from this place

"who fled thither for conscience sake about 1630."

So that's how Boston Lincs links with Boston Massachusetts.

'By Bradshaw's time, Boston Massachusetts

'was one of the world's wealthiest trading ports,

'far outstripping the original Boston,

'which had had its heyday back in the 13th century,

'thanks to a then-booming wool trade.

'Victorian visitors to Boston Lincolnshire

'would not find a great city to compare with its namesake,

'but they would have a prospect of it from afar,

'thanks to a very prominent landmark.'

Visible from many, many miles away across the Lincolnshire plain

is the enormous tower of St Botolph's Church.

The church being known, I suppose ironically

and affectionately, The Stump.

TANNOY: Boston now, your next stop. Thank you.

There's no definitive explanation for its long-held nickname.

But getting off at Boston, I can take a closer look at it.

-Morning.

-Morning.

-Are you from Boston?

-Yes. Yes.

-You've got a lot of history here. Are you proud of it?

-Oh, very much.

The Stump, it's one of the tallest churches I've ever seen.

-Oh, it's lovely. And I got married there.

-Did you?

-Yes.

We've had our ruby wedding last year, so...

Congratulations. So marriages made in The Stump last.

It must be the water in Boston.

THEY LAUGH

Perhaps it was the landscape, or the way of life

that, back in the 17th century, drew its people

to religious non-conformity.

During that time, hundreds of puritans from the area

tried to flee the country in order to profess

their Christian faith in their own way.

One group, including those who were

later to be known as the Pilgrim Fathers,

was imprisoned at the Boston Guildhall

during its efforts to emigrate.

I've come to meet Boston's museum manager,

Luke Skerritt, to learn more.

What was it that made some people so desperate

that they would leave the country

under the burden of the established church?

The established church had a really prescriptive

method of worship that they wished everybody to ascribe to.

Parts of that reflect in the Book of Common Prayer,

which sets out how you conduct the worship.

It was longwinded, so ministers

didn't actually have time to preach as part of it.

That's what they really reacted against.

I'm wondering why Boston,

why Lincolnshire was a hotbed of dissent.

The Fenland area, there's some isolation

from the main parts of the country.

The people here are used to being independent.

And that Fenland, it stretches down all the way to Cambridgeshire.

And a lot of Cambridge, it was a breeding ground

for quite important vicars

who were really questioning the Bible at that time.

One of those Cambridge-educated clerics is the connection

between this Boston and the one in the United States.

His name was John Cotton,

and he became vicar at St Botolph's in 1612.

And for 21 years, his legendary three-hour sermons filled the pews.

John Cotton was a very charismatic individual.

He was very passionate about his interpretation of the Bible

and was quite a strong non-conformist.

They wouldn't use the sign of the cross in baptism.

He wouldn't have people kneel for communion.

And the church authorities didn't like at all what was going on.

How does this lead to an expedition to America?

He invokes his congregation

to aspire to having new faith in new lands.

And they take the opportunity to sail

as part of the Massachusetts Bay Company in 1630.

The Massachusetts Bay Company was a joint stock-trading association

set up to colonise a tract of land in New England.

The flotilla of ships that set sail for Massachusetts in 1630

carried around 700 colonists

who were to found their new Christian community

and the settlement that was to become the city of Boston USA.

Like Boston, my next destination also has associations

with unconventional worship.

To get there, I need to head west

to pick up a connection in Grantham.

I'm on the East Coast Main Line, headed for Newark.

My destination is actually Southwell.

And Bradshaw's says, "A Christian church was founded there

"as far back as 62 AD by Paulinus, Archbishop of York.

"And it has a large and ancient collegiate church, or minster."

It's a stained-glass window in that church

which is at the core of my expedition.

Southwell once had a station,

but thanks to the Beeching cuts,

the final whistle blew there in 1964.

So I'm getting off eight miles east at Newark Northgate.

Southwell is an elegant market town 15 miles northeast of Nottingham.

Its centrepiece is a massive and austerely beautiful minster,

considered by many to be one of England's finest medieval churches.

Stained-glass windows are normally devoted to the Madonna and child,

the Trinity, saints.

This one is devoted to the Bramley apple,

meaning there must be something sacred, holy,

or at least celebrating that it's a gift from God.

Indeed, this humble fruit

is held in deep reverence by the people of Southwell.

They named their library after it and their newspaper.

And each October, there's a festival to celebrate its greatness.

'And the root of this fervour took hold

'at the beginning of the 1800s in an unassuming cottage garden,

'where I'm meeting Adrian Barlow,

the chief executive of English Apples and Pears.'

Adrian, hello.

Hello, Michael. How are you?

-Very, very well.

-Excellent.

A Bramley apple, I assume, but not any old Bramley apple.

Absolutely right. This is the original Bramley tree.

And it really is an extraordinary story.

Because the cottage was owned by the Brailsford family

and young Mary Ann was watching her mother

prepare some apples for cooking

and she took a pip and planted it

and here is the tree that it grew into.

And so, this seed that got planted was in some way a new variant?

Absolutely. Absolutely right.

It was just a one-in-several-million chance

that this tree turned out to produce apples

which are absolutely unrivalled

in terms of their cooking abilities.

It has a wonderful taste.

It's a mix of tartness and sugars.

And that taste comes right through the cooking process undiminished.

And who first recognised that this was such a special apple?

Well, a local nurseryman, Henry Merryweather, said,

"Oh, I've heard about these apples. Where do they come from?"

And by that time, the Brailsfords had moved out

and Matthew Bramley lived here.

So Henry Merryweather said to him,

"I would like to take some cuttings from your tree

"and to propagate the variety."

Matthew Bramley said, "Fine, but you must call it the Bramley Seedling."

And so you're telling me that all the, I suppose by now, millions

-of Bramley apple trees originate with this one here.

-Absolutely.

Bramley became a firm Victorian favourite,

winning first-class certificates from horticultural societies.

And its popularity hasn't waned.

Because today, 95% of apples sold

commercially for cooking are Bramley.

To gain first-hand experience of this famed fruit,

at the aptly-named local pub,

I'm helping chef Jack Arkless

to make one of his specialties - a classic Bramley apple pie.

We need to cook the apples slightly with a bit of sugar and lemon juice.

A really good squeeze of lemon juice.

Now, I don't like too much sugar in my apple pie.

Normally put about two tablespoons in for this amount of apples.

I'd probably say that's about perfect.

Mm! Doesn't that look good?

It smells rather good, as well, actually, doesn't it?

-I have a feeling the difficult bit comes now.

-Yes, it does indeed.

Just putting a bit of vigour into this, show it who's boss.

I think you're doing quite well there. Just check the size of it.

That looks about right.

If we just lift the pie over it, I'm just going to hover over.

-You can see that that's about right.

-About right.

This is the moment that sorts out the chefs of talent

from the mediocre. Whoops!

THEY CHUCKLE

Let's see that.

Hold the rolling pin up a little bit. That's it.

-Mm.

-That's not bad.

-Hm. Just...

MICHAEL LAUGHS

Just a couple of strategic holes here and there.

Now, if you wouldn't mind, Jack, I think you'd better take over.

Absolutely. No problem.

Outside, a crowd of locals has gathered,

hungry for a slice of the action.

-Hello, everybody!

-ALL: Hello!

-Here is one that somebody else made earlier.

-Oh, I say!

-Let us celebrate the Bramley apple together.

-Yes.

-It's beautiful.

-Shall I be Mum?

-Yeah.

-Very good.

-What do you think of that?

-Perfect!

-Do we think the Bramley apple is pretty good?

-Very good.

-The best, I would've thought.

-It cooks well.

It cooks soft, but it doesn't fall flat. It goes fluffy.

How would you compare it? It's better than French apples, is it?

-Of course it's better!

-THEY LAUGH

So, ladies and gentlemen, I propose a toast

to the lady who discovered the Bramley apple, Mary Ann Brailsford,

and I would like to couple the name of George Bradshaw,

who led me here to your excellent company today. Cheers!

'Reluctantly leaving the delicious Bramleys of Nottinghamshire behind,

'I'm heading northwest to Sheffield in South Yorkshire,

'where I'm going to pick up a train that will take me

'two short stops to Chapeltown.'

Last train of the day. Nearly time for my rest.

'From Chapeltown on the northern fringes of Sheffield,

'my guidebook is leading me four miles

'into South Yorkshire countryside

'to what I'm hoping will be a suitable place to break my journey.'

What would I do without Bradshaw's,

which has brought me to Wortley Hall,

the beautiful old seat of Lord Wharncliffe?

And since I'm not here at Lord Wharncliffe's invitation,

I'm guessing that it's changed ownership.

A changeover did indeed happen in the early 1950s,

when a group of trade unionists re-established Wortley

as a recreation and education centre for working people.

The hall also operates as a hotel.

And this evening, I'm fortunate enough

to be receiving some South Yorkshire hospitality

from general manager Johnathan da Rosa.

So, was this a bit like the Workers' Educational Association

-that my parents used to belong to?

-Absolutely.

Trade unions use us, the Co-op use us,

the Labour party's got an office here,

Aslef also have a room sponsored by them, but still,

the primary goal is to provide education for working-class people.

So, I've come to a stately home of the Labour movement?

You have indeed. You're in enemy country, some might say.

I think I'm going to stand out a bit in my blue jacket.

-Absolutely. But you're more than welcome.

-Cheers.

'After a restful and, I'm pleased to report,

'completely altercation-free evening,

'I'm ready to resume my journey.

'From Chapeltown, I'm heading 20 miles north through Yorkshire.'

My next stop will be Wakefield.

Bradshaw's tells me the town contains

"several important public buildings.

"There's the house of correction

"and the pauper lunatic asylum on the York Road.

"Originally intended for 400,

"but now capable of accommodating 800 patients."

On my travels, I've sometimes considered

Victorian attitudes to mental health.

And today, I'd like to think about those people

set aside from Victorian society

and largely forgotten in death.

During the 1800s, the approach to mental illness

underwent significant reform.

Legislation was passed

that meant that every county was obliged to provide asylum.

'As well as that in Wakefield, mentioned in my Bradshaw's,

'three others were created in the area.

'One of those was built north of the city in Menston in 1888.

'And there, I'm meeting writer Mark Davis,

'who's done extensive research into the imposing institution

'and written a book about some of the many patients who stayed here.'

Tell me specifically about this magnificent building at Menston.

When it was built, certain people said it was far too

magnificent, far too much money had been spent.

You go in and there's intricate mosaic tiles,

there's beautiful stained glass and there's a magnificent ballroom.

Most of these places were built on curved driveways.

Did you notice the curve as you came up?

Coining the phrase, going around the bend.

So we'd have these beautiful buildings,

but hidden from the gaze of the public.

Ha! That is extraordinary. No railway station, alas.

Well, there was a railway and it was joined

by the Midland line down on Buckle Lane

and it actually came around the back of the hospital.

It was used, basically, to bring in goods.

Because what we had here was quite literally a self-contained

village for the apparently insane.

Confused about the Victorians and mental health.

Do you think of them as progressive, or primitive?

I think there was certainly a vision

and an idea for people to do something better for mankind.

However, everything went wrong.

Quite simply because of the sheer volume of people

coming through the doors.

So from being a place where people could recover,

it became the administration of people of large numbers.

And of course, we have to remember in Victorian times,

madness was deemed to be hereditary.

And therefore, families abandoned people.

They didn't want to be associated.

The institution evolved dramatically

and the buildings were dedicated

to mental healthcare right up to 2003.

Since then, they've been developed for residential use,

but in one corner of the grounds

is a very significant part of the original asylum,

which is cared for by Mark and a group of local volunteers.

We're a little distance from the asylum now. What is this ground?

This is land set aside for the disposal of the asylum dead.

Across this great expanse,

there are buried 2,861 men, women and children,

three deep, in unmarked graves.

When Mark and his team took on the custody of this site in 2010,

they fully restored the then-derelict chapel

into a place of remembrance and reflection.

So these are photographs of patients from the 19th century.

But you have managed to find out

the life histories of some of these people.

Yeah. This is John Constantine.

He was admitted when he was just 10 years old. Deaf and dumb.

His mother couldn't handle him.

And he lived for 50 years under care and treatment before dying aged 65.

And when you look at some of his notes,

they really are quite derogatory.

He's referred to as this, "dummy patient. A good imbecile worker."

He may not have been insane at all.

Unable to communicate, more than anything.

And where does John Constantine lie, exactly?

John's out there with the rest.

Identified quite simply by a row number and a grave number.

But you've given that number now a name.

And a voice, hopefully.

'To continue my travels, I'm re-boarding the train at Wakefield

'and heading 11 miles west.'

This train will take me as far as Knottingley.

As Bradshaw's reminds me, "Here, the line branches off to Goole."

I'm keen not to miss my connection

as the train onwards runs just once every 24 hours.

'As railways proliferated during the 1800s,

'competition between rail companies was fierce

'and regulations minimal.

'But in 1844, a law imposed duties on railway companies,

'instructing them to run certain services

'known ever since as parliamentary trains.

'In some parts of the country today,

'there are services that run only because the law requires it.

'Sometimes known as ghost trains.

'And one of those links Knottingley and Goole.

'I'm hoping to continue my journey

'by catching one of these elusive trains,

'but I've enough time before it's due

'to find out from author and journalist, Michael Williams,

'about their history.'

The origin goes back to the middle of the 19th century,

when passengers were treated very badly by the railway companies.

Fares were high, people buying cheap, third-class tickets

had to travel in terrible conditions.

So along came the president of the Board of Trade,

one William Gladstone, who you would hardly think of as a socialist,

and said to the railways, unless you improve conditions

for the working classes, he would do all sorts of dire things.

So he created a minimum standard for the third-class passenger.

On every route, there had to be a minimum standard of the train

running at a minimum of 12 miles an hour,

the cost had to be no more than a penny a mile,

the train had to stop at every station

and there had to be some degree of comfort in the carriages.

How did the companies react?

They squealed, they howled, they hated it.

And what they did in the end, they circumvented it by putting

these parliamentary trains on at the most inconvenient times of day.

And actually, I mean, a train that maybe was travelling

at only 12 miles per hour and stopping in every single station

-may not have been a great experience for the passenger either.

-It wasn't.

But actually, as the century wore on, trains got much more comfortable.

And it certainly did something to encourage railway travel

and by opening rail travel to the masses, really.

The painfully slow parliamentary trains were satirised

by Gilbert and Sullivan in The Mikado in 1885.

# Scribbles on windowpanes

# We only suffer to ride on a buffer

# In parliamentary trains. #

'Ah! My ghost train has materialised.

'The people piling off are leaving a regular hourly service from Leeds,

'and it's from here at Knottingley

'that the token once-a-day service commences.

'And it's looking decidedly empty.

'Today's parliamentary services

'have little commercial appeal to the rail companies.

'But being specified by law,

'their withdrawal would require a legal process

'with opportunities for objectors, which can be long and expensive.

'So running a very limited service, even if comically infrequent,

'avoids all that controversy and cost.'

So, how come you take the ghost train? Are you quite regular on it?

Yeah. My dad lives at Hensall, so it's the only station near, really,

and I'm working in Leeds.

This is pretty much like having a private train, isn't it?

-It works perfectly.

-Are there many regulars on the train?

It varies day to day, but maybe half a dozen of us from Snaith.

-So, you must know each other quite well.

-Yes, yes.

-You never get lonely?

-No, I don't mind it.

I've got the paper and it gives me time to relax before I get home

and my dad gets on at me about something.

-Thank you very much.

-Thank you.

-Enjoy your journey.

-You, too.

'I'll get off at Hensall station

'to meet a man who's something of a celebrity,

'well-known to the parliamentary train regulars.'

A special train to a delightful station

and a rendezvous with a very particular person.

For the last 36 years, Keith Collins has lived

in what was once Hensall's station.

And having spent much of his life as a locomotive engineer

both in East Africa and in Britain,

he knows a thing or two about engines.

Hello, Keith.

Hello, there.

Splendid engine!

-You think so, do you?

-Oh, I do, I do.

What made you want to live at the station?

Um...well, when you've something like this,

you're antisocial in a normal environment.

And so I moved out here, where I can bang

and clatter without disturbing the neighbours.

Tell me about this beautiful engine.

Well, it's a 1917 John Fowler steam tractor.

When I got it, it was all in bits,

so I rebuilt it and made it into this marvellous-looking machine.

It has a nice, easy turnover sound, doesn't it?

Music. Music, is the word.

-Music to your ears, yes.

-Absolutely, yes.

It's just a pity it doesn't go anywhere.

Well, that can be arranged.

I was hoping you'd say that!

Shall we take a little ride?

Oh, it'll cost you a pint.

Down to the pub.

We're ready, are we?

-We're ready.

-OK, wait a minute.

Engine room, prepare engines.

OK.

Right, turn like mad now, turn like mad.

Go on, go on, go on, turn like mad. Go on.

Right, other way, other way. Like mad. Other way, other way!

Wow! This is exciting! Over the railway.

'We're doing only 15 miles per hour,

'but from up here, it feels like breakneck speed.'

-Are you getting the hang of it?

-Yeah.

I'd no idea you were going to go so fast.

Heh! We're ticking over!

THEY LAUGH

This is fantastic!

TOOT-TOOT!

How satisfying, to take an old engine like this

and bring it back to life!

What an achievement. Well done, sir!

It's in the blood.

Well, it's not only in the blood,

it's in the eyes and all over the skin!

THEY LAUGH

If you don't fancy waiting 24 hours

for the next parliamentary train to chug into view,

then a steam engine may be a viable alternative.

During this part of the journey,

I have encountered people excluded from the mainstream.

Non-conformists who emigrated in order to worship as they chose.

And 19th-century lunatics sent to asylums on the edge of the city.

But whereas for the insane,

there isn't even a headstone by which to be remembered,

for the Pilgrim Fathers,

they're commemorated by Boston Massachusetts.

TOOT!

'Next time, I step inside

'a record-breaking feat of engineering.'

Douglas, you people built a bridge on an extraordinary scale.

This is a massive chamber.

'Learn of the conditions endured by a prisoner of conscience.'

The soldier stole his bread and water.

He was treated something like an animal in a zoo.

'And brew up a Quaker-approved Victorian cuppa.'

Well, it looks as appetising as mud.