Ashley to Alton 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.

And, as I crisscross the country 150 years later, it helps me

to discover the Britain of today.

My journey continues through the open countryside

and industrial heartland of north-west England,

where leafy Victorian suburbs grew around polluted urban centres.

On this leg, I find out how the Industrial Revolution created

new social classes, and about its wider impact on leisure

and popular culture of the day.

I began in Cumbria,

headed south through the dramatic landscape of the Lake District,

and the mill towns of Lancashire,

onto Merseyside's historic docks.

I'm now travelling towards my final destination

in the heart of Staffordshire.

On today's leg, I take a trip to middle class suburbia,

head to the Victorian centre of silk,

visit a Cheshire market town,

steam my way through the Churnet Valley,

and end my journey at Alton Towers.

'In this episode, I'm blown away by beauty.'

Just soared over the valley. Absolutely beautiful.

'I work up a sweat, the Victorian way.'

Stoking up the fire,

giving the locomotive a bit of oomph.

Builds good biceps, that.

'And experience the thrill of the rollercoaster.'

THEY SCREAM

I am now completing my journey through north and north-west England,

and my first stop today will be Ashley.

Bradshaw's tells me that, "The Valley of the Bollin about this locality

"is particularly attractive to the denizens of Manchester.

"We should not be surprised

"if, in a few years, it is studded with handsome residences."

Ashley is a leafy commuter village in Cheshire,

close to the border with Greater Manchester.

By the time of my guidebook, rail links with the city

were well established and the area was becoming gentrified.

Newly moneyed middle class professionals

and industrialists fled the pollution of the city

in favour of grand suburban villas,

befitting their new social standing.

Tremendous demand for domestic service followed,

and women found work cooking and cleaning in middle class households.

Thousands of chimneys needed to be swept,

and those skills are still practised today.

Martin Cavanagh has offered to show me the tricks of the trade.

How did you get into chimney sweeping?

My father was a chimney sweep. He did it for 50 years.

I've been sweeping chimneys since I was 16.

We used to run about knocking on houses,

and canvassing for chimney sweeping when I was about eight years old.

But when you were eight years old, you weren't actually made to go

-up the chimney like a Victorian?

-No, no. Thank God!

Martin's brought me to a typical Victorian middle class house

which would have seen its fair share of sweeps in Bradshaw's day.

Unlike my forbears, I'll be keeping my feet firmly on the ground.

Why is it Victorians had to send people up chimneys?

Why couldn't they just use the brushes, as we're doing?

They didn't have this kind of system. They hadn't invented these

till probably the 19th century.

When they started using coal, they found that the chimneys

sooted up a lot more, so they had to invent some

type of way of getting up there,

and the young kids were the ideal thing.

The Industrial Revolution brought a housing boom,

and the numbers of properties with chimneys grew rapidly.

Buildings were designed to greater heights with chimney pots

grouped together.

Did Victorians have twisty and turny chimneys?

-Certainly.

-Yeah.

Sometimes they went up 45 degrees,

some of them were 90 degrees.

Because there's more than one flue,

so if there's two chimneys directly above each other

one has got to bend around the other one further up.

And so these children would go up

through these narrow, narrow chimneys, would they?

Nine inches by nine inches,

sometimes nine inches by four inches,

where they corbel over in the stack.

And did kids get stuck in chimneys?

Several cases where children have been trapped

and they've died.

Master sweeps sent boys as young as four up hot flues.

The children propelled themselves by their knees and elbows

which were rubbed raw, brushing and scraping out the tar and soot

until they reached the top.

If an accident didn't kill them, the carcinogenic soot might.

Where did the chimney sweeps get their children from?

Families. Sometimes poor families sold them to the master sweeps.

And were the sweep masters kind or cruel to the children?

Some masters were kind.

When they got a bit older and could not do chimney sweeping any more

and they got them into other jobs.

Some of the cruel masters, they even lit fires underneath them

to get them to go up the chimney.

Orphaned and poor children were indentured to master sweeps

in return for board, food and clothing.

Employers did well by selling the soot.

-Was the soot valuable then?

-They used to sell it for dyes,

they used to sell it for farming.

So it was a valuable fertiliser?

Yes, it used to be sold abroad by the bushel.

Martin, the brush appears to be at the top of the chimney,

-should I bring it down now?

-Yes.

-So just reverse the process?

-Yes.

Hold on tight, and unscrew.

I could have made it easier for you by using smaller canes,

-a smaller brush. That would be too easy.

-Wouldn't it just!

Despite successive laws to regulate

and later to outlaw child sweeps, the practice continued.

The publication in 1863 of Charles Kingsley's The Water Babies

highlighted their plight

and fuelled the demand for change.

But it took a further decade of campaigning for a ban.

Have you thought, Martin, every time you send one of these up the chimney

-that's a child that doesn't need to go.

-That's definitely true.

I've enjoyed my lesson from Martin

but there's no time to perfect my newly acquired skill.

I have a train to catch.

My next destination is Macclesfield, and to get to there

I must change at that great junction of north-west England, Stockport.

The approach to the station will take me across the impressive

27-arch Stockport Viaduct built of 11 million bricks.

At 110 feet high, it was the biggest in the world

when it was completed in 1840.

From here, it's a ten-mile trip south through Cheshire countryside

to Macclesfield.

Bradshaw's says of my next destination that

the silk and cotton factories should be viewed.

From my travels, I know a little bit about the history of cotton,

but not of silk.

I'm hoping that at Macclesfield, I'll find someone to spin me a line.

By the time the railway arrived in 1849, Macclesfield was perhaps

the largest producer of finished silk in the world.

150 years later, pharmaceuticals and digital businesses dominate here

and just two silk factories remain.

One of them is a couple of miles south-east of the town

on the edge of the River Bollin in Langley.

I'm meeting design director Jo Ratcliffe.

-Very good to see you.

-Welcome to Adamley.

So, Jo, to begin at the beginning.

-Silk comes from silk worms, is that right?

-It does, yes.

-And where are these industrious silk worms?

-They're all living quite happily in China.

That's always been the case, hasn't it, because there used to be

-a Silk Road from China to the UK.

-There did.

In actual fact, Macclesfield is the official end of the Silk Road.

During the late 18th century, high prices in London prompted

merchants to turn to cheaper provincial centres like Macclesfield

for finished silk, and by the early 19th century, business was booming

The Industrial Revolution created a new class of wealthy entrepreneur

with expensive tastes.

Silk gowns, ties, top hats and bonnets

became important middle class status symbols.

The more extravagant the attire,

the clearer the message that the wearer was not a manual worker.

And in the old days, in the 19th century for example,

was the silk coming in as cloth or as thread?

It would have been brought in as thread.

There would have been several mills in Macclesfield

where they wove the silk.

As time has gone on, the silk has become too expensive

and we buy it in now, we buy it in loom state

and we do all the other processes here, the after processes -

the dying, the printing,

steaming, finishing. Everything is done here.

Over the years, the company has acquired a rather special

collection of original designs.

These books date back to the mid-1800s,

and they're all actually hand-painted designs.

Beautiful work.

-Now, today you use computers, I suppose?

-We do, yes.

But can you still do this sort of stuff?

We've used this design quite recently to create this hank.

So that is our same lady?

It is, I have given her a little bit of a face-lift!

Yeah, you have. And, obviously,

you can make anything you like of the colours,

but isn't that beautiful?

-So that's the sort of thing that you can buy today?

-It is yes.

Wow, that's really beautiful. Lovely.

In the early 19th century,

around 10,000 people worked in Macclesfield's silk factories,

which numbered 70 in the 1820s and '30s.

Today, it's a niche industry, with Jo's company employing

a staff of 32

and printing around 2,000 metres of silk a week.

Some of your machinery looks quite ancient, but still doing the job?

It is. In fact, some of it's Victorian.

Is it really?

So how does the process begin?

The first process that we do is boil the cloth,

then it goes through the dyeing process.

When we're dying wool, can we dye it in rope formation like that.

But silk, because it's a more delicate fibre, has to be dyed flat,

and that's dyed in the machine over there.

Once the silk is dry it's ready for screen printing.

The method for creating the stencils that make up the pattern

has moved on considerably since Victorian times,

when hand carved blocks were in use.

'It looks simple but it takes years of practice.

'One mistake and a whole length of silk may be ruined.

'Terrible thought.'

Today, Jo uses a computer to split the design into individual

colours, and lasers each one onto a separate screen,

ready for printing.

But the final process is reassuringly lo-tech.

Now it's time to get my hands dirty.

Graham Cooper, a printer and screen engraver,

is to guide me through the process.

-You're printing this lovely bit of red silk are you?

-I am.

The colour's in. If you'd like to go round the other side

and give me a hand.

Get hold of the rubber. Pull it towards you.

Drawing a rubber blade over the screen pushes the colour

through the exposed sections of the stencil onto the cloth.

The process is repeated for each colour until the image is complete.

Graham, how many colours can you put onto a silk?

-We have printed up to 19 colours before.

-Lovely stuff.

And we'll have a look at what we've just printed.

Wow. If it isn't our lady again.

Going to be very, very beautiful.

I would of course stay and help Graham finish the job,

but Jo has something to show me.

Before you leave, Michael,

I thought you you'd like to see a selection of handkerchiefs.

They are absolutely wonderful, aren't they? Beautiful, bright colours.

-Can I have the lady we've been looking at?

-You certainly can.

There she is.

She makes what I've got at the moment

look quite dull, doesn't she? Let me get rid of that.

It's not every man who has a secret lady in his pocket.

-That looks marvellous.

-Thank you.

Feeling the Victorian dandy

I'm ready to embark on the final leg of my day.

Bradshaw's tells me that, "the route from Macclesfield to Congleton

"is rich in natural beauties,

"and furnishes various objects worthy of attention,

"amongst which is a stupendous viaduct across the Dane Valley."

Oh, happy Dane! I'm looking forward to this.

The journey to my hotel in Congleton is less than ten miles south

and doesn't disappoint.

We just soared over the valley. Absolutely beautiful!

Bradshaw's describes Congleton as,

"a municipal borough and old town

"with manufactures of silk and cotton".

Today, most of the mills are long gone.

I'm heading to the heart of the town to find a hotel

called the Lion & Swan, as mentioned in my guidebook.

It's the final day of my journey

and I'm hoping that the inclement weather will clear

before I arrive at my next destination.

I've left the north-west of England and travelled 12 miles south-east

to a rural village station on the edge of the Peak District

in the West Midlands.

Cheddleton Station opened in 1849.

Now it's the headquarters

of North Staffordshire's Churnet Valley Railway.

According to Bradshaw's, "The Churnet Valley railway line

"passes through one of the loveliest valleys in England".

And thanks to the achievements of railway enthusiasts,

it's still possible today to appreciate

the wonders of the vale from a steam train.

Originally, this branch line

crossed nearly 28 miles of valley and moorland

between North Rode in Cheshire and Uttoxeter in Staffordshire.

Connections at either end created a direct link

to Manchester and to London.

Over 150 years later, just over five miles of track are still in use.

And one of the people responsible for its preservation

is David Kemp, Director of Churnet Valley Railway.

David, the Churnet Valley, according to my Bradshaw's,

is one of the loveliest in England. What makes it so?

Well, it's essentially a rural line.

And when it was running its original length,

joining the Manchester line ten or a dozen miles north of here

and the Derby line to the south, it was a very useful line.

But most of the countryside is very attractive all the way down.

It follows the river all the way down.

Why was it a useful line, what was it carrying?

Back in the 19th century, lots and lots of industry around here.

Iron smelting, copper, all sorts of things.

Coal and what-have-you.

There's quite a lot of quarries around here, as well.

The railway first carried freight, but soon opened up

one of the most scenic parts of the country to passengers, too.

Leisure-seeking Victorians travelled from all over Britain.

But a century later,

tourists and freight traffic weren't enough to sustain

the Churnet Valley line and sections of track were closed in 1963.

What's the modern history of the railway?

When was it rescued?

What you see in terms of the lines that we're involved with

and going down to Froghall, um...are all left, basically,

because they served quarries at the time.

If it hadn't been for that, then it'd all have gone.

Now, all that traffic stopped,

um...about 20 years ago in the early 1990s.

And that's when the preservation movement started.

I suppose, like all these heritage railways,

it rests very heavily on the enthusiasm of volunteers.

Yes, it's the guys who turn up at 5:00 in the morning

and get the engines fired up in the middle of winter

and, er...you know, wander about under engines,

trying to sort of defreeze them and all the rest of it.

Yeah, you've got to be pretty dedicated to do this job.

David has certainly whetted my appetite for the journey ahead.

I'm ready to step into the shoes of a Victorian tourist

and lap up the scenery.

WHISTLE

TOOT!

The Churnet Valley sort of tells the story

of Britain's Industrial Revolution.

Of course, there's a river running through it

which was used for navigation,

then, in the first part of the Industrial Revolution,

a canal was built to carry minerals.

Then the railway company took over the canal

and finally, bits of the canal

were filled in to lay down railway lines.

As we reach Consall Station, set deep in the valley,

I've a treat in store.

Engineer John Peake has invited me to ride with him to the next stop.

But apparently, there's no such thing as a free ride.

Tremendous heat now coming out of the boiler!

Stoking up the fire!

Giving the locomotive a bit of oomph!

This is good exercise, isn't it?

Yeah. Keeps you fit.

Builds good biceps, that!

Was this a Churnet Valley Railway locomotive?

Yes. Originally, it was built in Poland.

It was imported into the UK

by a gentleman at the Spa Valley Railway.

Then, for various reasons,

the gentleman decided he wanted to sell it,

so a group of volunteers at the railway

raised the money and bought the steam loco,

just like when they first started preservation.

How old is it?

It was built in 1952.

1952!

So, little Polish locomotive, you're even older than I am

and you're a long way from home.

Yes.

After all that exertion, I'm ready to return to my carriage

for the remainder of the journey.

TOOT!

The Churnet Valley is indeed beautiful.

And I think it's beauty is enhanced

by the smoke of a steam locomotive.

This is pollution Victorian style!

And I think it's pollution that we can forgive.

The Churnet Valley line ends at Froghall,

but at the time of my guidebook,

it would have continued to my final destination in Alton,

just four miles south-east.

Opened in 1849, Alton station served an established noble family

travelling to and from their nearby stately home.

Bradshaw's has brought me to the princely seat

of the Earl of Shrewsbury and Talbot.

"Built in 1814, a magnificent hall

"with an armoury 120-feet long."

And its gardens are a picture of tranquillity.

But this is Alton Towers.

And I think my visit will be worth the ride.

The country estate was first taken on by the Earl of Shrewsbury in 1412

and remained in the family for over five centuries.

To find out more about its fascinating history,

I'm meeting Liz Greenwood,

who's been with Alton Towers for 25 years.

The house appears to be pretty much gutted.

Is anything from my Bradshaw's Guide still there?

I mean, for example, the armoury?

The armoury's there, although it's perhaps not quite as you'd expect.

-Come and have a look.

-Ha! Thank you.

In the early 20th century, the cost of war,

death duties and the burden of income tax

forced many upper-class families to abandon their country houses.

In 1924, Alton Towers was sold to a group of local businessmen.

And over the following three decades,

the house was gradually stripped bare and its contents sold off.

-Ha-ha-ha!

-And here we are in the armoury.

Liz, it's a very impressive room indeed.

It seems there are just a few pikestaffs and suits of armour left.

Presumably, this would have been filled with such things.

Originally, each of these plinths would have a suit of armour.

If you think about it, the whole intent of these sorts of buildings

was to impress the visitor.

It was to show the wealth of the earls that owned the house.

How has this historic and, I must say, rather gloomy

and rather ghostly house lent itself to being a theme park?

This is the first area of the house

we've been able to incorporate into a ride.

This armoury now forms part of the queue line into a ride called Hex.

No other theme park has got an 18th-century mansion in the middle of it.

It also lends itself brilliantly to Halloween activity.

So people are lapping up the gloom and spookiness.

People lap up the atmosphere of the house, which is just amazing.

Outside, the estate once laid claim

to some of the most magnificent gardens in Britain.

Today, much of the parkland is occupied by the theme park,

but the gardens have remained true to their original design.

When I thought about Alton Towers,

I assumed it was just a modern theme park, but actually,

it has a history going back to the 19th century, doesn't it?

Yes. Originally, it was open to the public in about 1860.

And guests were allowed to wander around the gardens.

So it's always been open to members of the public.

And in fact, the original earls were very keen to have

original and unique features in the gardens.

And they laid them out, essentially, in small themed areas.

So, even then, it was a kind of themed park?

It was kind of the precursor to the modern theme park, yeah.

Urbanisation and the arrival of the railways

changed popular culture and leisure forever.

By the time of my guidebook,

rail travel was reconnecting middle and lower class Victorians

with the countryside

and bringing entertainment to the masses.

I came across this flyer from the 1890s

advertising stuff that was going on here.

"Alton Towers Illuminated.

"Horse leaping for £100.

"Ella, Zuila and Lulu.

"These are apparently ladies who walk on a wire over the lake

"500-feet across, 75-feet high."

And then, "Sante, the man with the iron head.

"Granite blocks, which were obtained locally,

"broken on his head by sledgehammers.

"£200 forfeited if a fraud."

So this stuff has been going on for a very long time.

Yes. And in fact, the fetes often attracted up to 30,000 people.

They were very popular, very common across the UK.

And they attracted acts from all over Europe.

It was where you came to see something unique and original

that you wouldn't get the chance to see anywhere else.

Alton Towers' appeal lives on.

And it's one of the most-visited theme parks in the United Kingdom.

People flock here each year to enjoy over 50 rides and attractions.

What have I let myself in for?

Oh!

SCREAMING

HE LAUGHS

Are you scared? You have those butterflies!

It's better if you haven't seen it before, isn't it?

-Yes.

-Oh, dear!

Is it too late to get off?

SCREAMING

SCREAMING

-EERIE TANNOY:

-Undo your safety belt and exit to the left.

Ensure you collect all your personal belongings.

I've been on many tracks in my life,

but never have I been accelerated to 60mph in 2.5 seconds

with 4.5 Gs of pressure on my body, and I'm wrung out!

All this week, I've enjoyed a rollercoaster of a ride,

thanks to Bradshaw's.

At the beginning of my journey through north England

at the Honister slate mine, I was struck as so often before

by the suffering of working men and women

during the Industrial Revolution.

And it came home to me that industrialisation

and the spread of the railways

took a heavy toll on England's blessed plot.

The artist Lowry painted the effects

and aesthetes like John Ruskin

set out to protect this green and pleasant land.

To all the other achievements of the Victorians,

we can add a dawning concern for the environment.

'Next time, inspired by a brave Victorian, I take the plunge.'

I can't believe I'm doing this.

'Enjoy the exhilaration of steam.'

At the moment, we're doing 18mph.

That is basically the equivalent of doing 75 on the main line

because we're nearer to the ground.

'And scale the heights of the operatic world.'

# Yah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah! #