A torrent of ink

Thu, 16 May 2013 08:30:00 +0100

The Levenson inquiry recently published into the conduct of Britain's free press made recommendations of curbs, that should be placed upon the newspapers.

Nothing new then. In 1495 Sir Roger L'Estrange, the booming, bewigged licensor of the press, tried to ban pamphlets "throbbing with sedition" that were in circulation at that time.

At that time it was Caxton's apprentice, the appropriately named Wynkyn der Worde, who first set up shop in the area of Fleet Street. William Caxton (the first Englishman to print books in London) had worked in Westminister working for rich patrons. Wynkyn after a little legal wrangling inherited the business upon Caxton's death and in 1500 decided to build up business producing relatively inexpensive books for a mass market, declaring:

"I am going to make a torrent of ink run through ze streets of London. I will drown out all ignorance . . . I will be ze father of Fleet Street!"

And so he did.

By the time of his death in 1534/5, Wynkyn had published more than 400 books in over 800 editions, though some are extant only in single copies and many others are extremely rare.

Fleet Street was to become synonymous with print and publishing, but broadsheets as we know them were still a long way off. Politics and religion were a no-no for the presses, so 'execution prints' (gory details of hangings, drawings and quarterings) and quasi-scientific pamphlets thrived.

After 1695, journalists were free to criticise government policy or satirise the Church without ending up pilloried, gaoled, or having various body parts chopped off.

The Daily Courant was first published on 11th March 1702 by Edward Mallet from his premises "against the Ditch at Fleet Bridge". This is now Ludgate Circus beneath which lie the buried waters of the Fleet, once clogged up with dead dogs, raw sewage and suicide victims. This is the primordial ooze out of which the Gutter Press arose, an irony probably not lost on Levenson witnesses seeking newspaper restrictions.

Fleet Street was an ideal location for the London press. Ever since Tudor times the street was renowned for its profusion of ale-houses and taverns and by 1700 there were 26 coffeehouses. Little changed for over 250 years and a contemporary account by Bill Hagerty a former Fleet Street editor can be found here.

Because Fleet Street was one of London's main arteries transporting people and mail between Westminster and the City, these became lightning rods for political, financial, and overseas news. Journalists capitalised upon this and would mingle and eavesdrop in local establishments, returning to their offices with fresh gossip.

In 1862 Bradshaw's Illustrated Hand Book of London described a visit to The Times as:

"A visit to the office during the time the huge machine is at work, casting off its impressions at the rate of 170 copies a minute, will present a sight not easily to be forgotten. From five till nine in the morning this stupendous establishment, employing nearly 300 people daily on its premises is to be seen in active operation."

By 1900 most of the national newspapers were located in or near Fleet Street, alas today Fleet Street is a pale imitation of its former self. The printing offices have been replaced by blue plaques, including one for the Courant.

It's a testament to the impact of what was started by Wynkyn der Worde over 500 years ago and evolved into an uncensored press that 'Fleet Street' endures in the British lexicon as a metaphor for the newspaper industry - even though one of the few publishers still left on Fleet Street is the London office of D.C. Thomson & Co., creator of the Beano.

Scandal at the Café Royal

Mon, 13 May 2013 08:30:00 +0100

The Café Royal has reopened with much of its original features still intact. If any of its early customers chose to revisit the hotel after nearly 100 years they would immediately recognise it.

Unfortunately Regent Street the road it occupies would be unrecognisable to its architect John Nash.

When in 1929 the new Regent Street was proposed the architects had every intention of building a new Café Royal and they were astonished when there was an outcry from across the world at the prospect of the beautiful Café Royal being destroyed. After a long campaign, which included representations from the Royal family, a compromise was reached - the interior of the dining room, with its magnificent decorative scheme, would be carefully removed and then when a room the exact size of the old room had been built in the new Café Royal the old interior would be slotted back into place.

The hotel was originally conceived in 1865 by Daniel Nichole-Thévenon, a bankrupt French wine merchant fleeing his creditors with just £5 in his pocket.

Later the Café Royal would flourish under the ownership of his son and at the time was considered to have the greatest wine cellar in Europe. By the turn of the 20th century it was the centre of fashionable London, numbering amongst its guests dining at the hotel's Grill Room or Empire and Napoleon Suite: Winston Churchill, Graham Greene and Elizabeth Taylor.

Some of the first boxing rules were written down in the hotel by the National Sporting Club, which held black-tie dinners before fights held there. A 1950's boxing ring complete with blood stains was auctioned by Bonham's prior to the hotel's recent refurbishment.

Over the years the Café Royal has seen its fair share of scandal. In 1894 the night porter was found with two bullets in his head, a murder which was never solved.

The hotel's most famous scandal arose between a conversation (the last civil one both men should engage with each other) between Oscar Wilde and The Marquess of Queensberry.

The Marquess, who instigated the hotel's boxing matches, and whose name is associated with the sport's rules, confronted Oscar Wilde and his friendship with the Marquess' son.

Wilde, a serious absinthe drinker would enjoy liquid lunches at the Café Royal, and the dining room would set the scene for the early 20th century's biggest scandal and the eventual demise of its most popular playwright.

The Marquess confronted Wilde about his dalliance with his son, the spoilt neurotic Lord Alfred 'Bosie' Douglas.

For once Oscar Wilde could not charm his way out of his predicament as he had on numerous occasions. The Marquess of Queensbury stormed out to leave a misspelt card at Wilde's club:

'For Oscar Wilde posing as a somdomite'

For a playwright of Wilde's stature the misspelling must have been almost as serious affront as the accusation.

Wilde held a council of war at the Café Royal with among others George Bernard Shaw who urged him to let the matter drop.

In court Queensberry could avoid conviction for libel only by demonstrating that his accusation was in fact true and furthermore that there was some 'public benefit' to having made the accusation openly. Queensberry's lawyers hired private detectives to find evidence of Wilde's homosexual liaisons to prove the fact of the accusation. The libel trial became a cause célèbre as salacious details of Wilde's private life with blackmailers, male prostitutes, cross-dressers and homosexual brothels appeared in the press.

Wilde would lose the case and be himself arrested at the Cadogan Hotel (you now pay a premium to sleep in the same room); put on trial and served two years hard labour for gross indecency.

He would be released a broken man and never return to writing plays to such critical acclaim.

Have you stolen my phone?

Thu, 09 May 2013 08:30:00 +0100

"My mobile will not work once I've reported it as lost." His inference as to my honesty couldn't have been made clearer.

It was 1.30 am and the lad slouching in the back of my cab had lost his brand new Blackberry as it slipped unnoticed unto the back seat.

Stopping to fill up with diesel on my way home I had found his property and then ignored its incessant urgent ringing as I was driving home. Once in a position to legally talk to its owner, it transpired that he regularly mislaid his firm's phone, and if he should mislay this one, he would be shown the door.

"Can you deliver it later today?" I explained this was Sunday, and not only was I unprepared to work 7 days that week, I had a lunch engagement, while giving him the address where he could find me as I eat my Sunday dinner.

His surprise was palpable as I opened the door of the vicarage for him, insisting that a contribution to the church roof fund, for the inconvenience caused to our friend, the vicar, wouldn't come amiss.

Mobiles seem to be the most common property left in cabs these days, and usually they can be reunited with their owners easily without going through the rigmarole of London's lost property department.

Go back 15 years and returning property to its owner was an elaborate ritual between the hapless cabbie and the Metropolitan Police.

"Does anybody know where the lost bloody property book is?" Were usually the first words spoken by the constable, clearly annoyed at this civic duty of recording 'Property left in a licensed taxi'. Next not one but two sheets of carbon paper had to be found and carefully aligned within the book's pages everything HAD to be in triplicate.

The offending property was examined in forensic detail before recording. An elaborate lick of the pencil's end and a bored sigh, the process could begin. DCI Jane Tennison gave suspects an easier ride. "Name?" "Badge number?" "Cab plate?" "Journey undertaken by the property owner?" "Time of journey?" "Date of journey?" - Never admit that 48 hours have elapsed before handing in the aforementioned property, you faced a stern reprimand.

Each item's description committed to paper in triplicate you signed and dated the record. Next a plastic evidence bag had to be found from within the stationery cupboard and the property with the appropriate page from the book ceremoniously sealed within.

You walked out of the police station after 30 minutes clutching a slip which informed you that a reward was yours for the asking should the property be claimed.

Three months later you could get your 'reward' when you reluctantly entered the portals of the Public Carriage Office, a brutalist white building with memories of the days when an appearance would induce a loosening of one's bowels.

You then proffered the little slip to the man behind the counter, who judging by his size and demeanour, was used to being treated with respect.

Your reward was carefully doled out onto the counter which had a small slot in it, just about where your left elbow now rested. Its inscription read 'Police Widows and Orphans Fund'.

The parting gesture from the man behind the counter, looking at you with an unblinking stare, a look that they had taught him at Hendon Police College, was to tap the counter close to be charity box, its inference couldn't be clearer.

Bradshaw's London Guide

Mon, 06 May 2013 08:30:00 +0100

By the beginning of Victoria's reign such was the fervour to build railways over 150 companies operated the thousands of miles of track that criss-crossed Britain. Greenwich Mean Time had established a uniform time across the rail network (before each town ran to its own version of time), but travelling across Britain trying to connect with different trains operated by separate companies had become well neigh impossible.

One publication, Bradshaw's would become the indispensable companion for the traveller, giving timetables for every operator, to the extent that a 'Bradshaw' entered into common usage as the name for a reliable timetable.

As late as between the two world wars, the verb 'to Bradshaw' was a derogatory term used in the Royal Air Force to refer to pilots who could not navigate well, perhaps related to a perceived lack of ability shown by those who navigated by following railway lines.

Recently Michael Portillo in his television series 'Great Rail Journeys' has revived this one-time handy companion and reproductions of this book back on to booksellers' shelves.

So it was recently that I picked up a copy of the original Bradshaw's Illustrated Hand Book to London and its Environs 1862 published by Conway.

The original volume was produced for visitors coming to the capital for the Great International Exhibition of 1862 and is written as a series of walking tours.

It gives an insight to a London unrecognisable to us today:

Newgate Market, which is productive of considerable inconvenience to the public, from its ill-chosen situation. On market-days it frequently happens that the streets in the vicinity are completely blocked up by the butchers' carts. In thirteen slaughter houses here, there are as many as 600 sheep, and from 50 to 110 bullocks slaughtered every day. It will, certainly, be a great public convenience, of Old Smithfield, which is close at hand, as suggested, be converted into a dead meat market.

Bridewell a City house of correction . . . the prison affords accommodation for seventy male and thirty female prisoners, who are incarcerated in single cells. The sentences vary from three days to three months. The treadmill is kept in active operation.

Regent Street . . . A new building called the London Crystal Palace, to form a Bazaar, is just completed . . . there is a conservatory, aquarium, and aviary attached.

Soho Square . . . is chiefly tenanted by music publishers and those connected with the music profession. In the centre is a stable of Charles II, in whose reign the ground was principally built upon.

There is also advice for tourists on coping with London smog, avoiding pickpockets, dealing with London's muddy streets and ferocious din, and many other topics including advice on the hiring of cabs.

Speed and Distance - When hired by distance the driver is bound to drive at a proper speed, not less than six miles an hour, except requested by the hirer to drive at a slower pace, or in cases of unavoidable delay. When hired by time to drive at the rate of four miles an hour, or if desired to drive at a greater speed, the driver shall be entitled to an additional fare of sixpence per mile over and above the four miles per hour.

But the biggest revelation is the table of cab fares:

Leicester Square to the Tower of London - 1s 6d

St. Paul's Church to the Strand - 6d

Paddington Station (Great Western) to the Lyceum Theatre -2s 6d

This meticulously detailed and comprehensive book makes a fascinating read for anyone interested in London's rich history.

Bog standard

Thu, 02 May 2013 18:11:00 +0100

No matter how glum I may feel driving around London the sight of a Pimlico Plumbers' van with their amusing number plates: W4TER, DRA1N, BOG 1 or my favourite 701LET is guaranteed to put a smile on my face, and if you want one for your home they have now even produced a diecast model of their iconic blue and white livered vans that you can buy. I doubt if these miniatures announce "This Pimlico Plumbers van is reversing" as the full sized version does but I guarantee that when you purchase the model it will be as immaculately clean as the originals are maintained.

The company's founder and Managing Director, Charlie Mullins, is the archetypical London boy made good. Bunking off school at the age of nine to help a local plumber, he couldn't wait to stop his education early to become an apprentice plumber.

Once he became a journeyman plumber, and after a couple of false starts, he founded Pimlico Plumbers. His the success, and this should be memorised by every aspiring business leader, isn't through any special business plans, strategies or forecasts, the core values established from the outset are still the key drivers to the business' success today. Quality of service.

Charlie looked at all the bad things people think about the plumbing industry: the ripping off, looking scruffy, dirty old van, making out that you can't get the part, not finishing the job, never turning up on time. He reckons that if you just do the opposite to all the bad things you can't fail.

Another unusual aspect of Pimlico Plumbers is their willingness to employ older staff; something that many of my generation have found to their cost, that employers are unwilling or unable to take on middle aged staff. Pimlico's have gone way beyond that age demographic. George Gibbs, aged 83 of Snodland, sent an appeal out in his local newspaper and some of Pimlico Plumbers employees who lived in the area brought the paper in for Charlie to read. The boss, who has appeared on Channel 4's The Secret Millionaire, was impressed and hired Gibbs as a van driver. Pimlico's have in the past employed even older staff, Buster Martin, who sadly passed away in April, was Britain's oldest employee at 104.

Now Pimlico Plumbers is on the search for classic 'Crappers' and plumbing icons for its new museum featuring bathrooms from the past 150 years; Victorian toilets, art-deco basins from the 1930s and of course Thomas Crapper originals.

Charlie Mullins whose client list includes Harry Hill, Jack Dee and Helena Bonham Carter is always keen to promote his trade, claims that plumbing is the world's second oldest profession and the skills and innovations of the industry have touched everyone's lives. His new museum intends to showcase a range of quirky exhibits that will demonstrate the ingenuity of pluming engineers and bring back memories for visitors.

Entry to the museum in Sail Street will be free with a collection box for nominated charities and it has to be near the top of London's most quirky museums.

Fare's fair

Mon, 29 Apr 2013 08:30:00 +0100

The name cab derives from the French, cabriolet de place and London cabbies have a surprisingly ancient heritage, the now defunct Corporation of Coachmen having secured a charter to ply for hire in London back in 1639.

Hackney Carriage is still the official term used to describe taxis and has nothing to do with that area in east London.

The name comes from hacquenée, the French term for a general-purpose horse, it literally means, 'ambling nag'.

In 1625 there were as few as 20 cabs available for hire and operating out of inn yards, but in 1636 the owner of four hackney coaches, a certain Captain Bailey a retired mariner, dressed his four drivers in livery so they would be easily recognisable and established a tariff for various parts of London and most important of all brought them into the Strand outside the Maypole Inn, and in so doing the first taxi rank had been established, this attracted the attention of other hackney coachmen who flocked there seeking work.

In 1636 Charles I made a proclamation to enable 50 hackney carriages to ply for hire in London, it was left up to the City's Aldermen to make sure this number was not exceeded.

After the Civil War, in 1654 Oliver Cromwell set up the Fellowship of Master Hackney Carriages by an Act of Parliament, and taxi driving became a profession; their numbers was allowed to increase to 200 hackney carriages. The Act was replaced in 1662 under Charles II by a new act, which required the hackney coaches to be licensed, and restricted their number to 400. In 1688 the number was increased to 600, and then again six years later by an Act of Parliament to 700.

Despite licensing they failed to attract the right sort of passenger, however, so that in 1694 a bevy of females in one cab reportedly behaved so badly in the environs of Hyde Park that the authorities responded by banning hired cabs from the park for the next 230 years.

Between 1711 and 1798 some 24 separate Acts of Parliament were passed dealing specifically with the cab trade and increasing the number of drivers who could ply for hire. In 1711 800 licenses were issued and by 1815 the numbers had reached 1,200.

In 1833 the number of drivers became unregulated, and there was no longer a restriction on the amount of taxis, the only limit was that the driver and vehicle be 'fit and proper', a condition that still applies today. This makes the licensed taxi trade the oldest regulated public transport system in the world, and it is the licensed cabbies in the trade that have demanded that it stays this way. With the passing of The London Hackney Carriage Act the Metropolitan Police gained control of the trade for the next 169 years.

In December 1834, Joseph Hansom of Hinckley, Leicestershire, registered his Patent Safety Cab, but sold the patient for £10,000 before he had it manufactured. Its design was improved by cutting away the body of the cab under the passenger's seat at an angle, inserting a slope in the floor where the passenger's feet rested, and raising the driver's seat some 7ft off the ground; this produced the perfect counterbalance and gave us the most famous Hansom carriage to ply London's streets. Because of London's congested streets modern London cabs average speed is now lower than the 17mph attainable by the 1834 Hansom carriage.

By mid-Victorian times the drivers had acquired a bit of a reputation, prompting a number of philanthropists - led by a certain Captain Armstrong from St. John's Wood, the editor of the Globe newspaper - to pay for the erection of London's distinctive green cab shelters, places where drivers could eat rather than drink alcohol, and where discussion of politics was strictly forbidden, 64 were built although only around a dozen still remain.

In 1887 Gottlieb Daimler, having previously invented the internal combustion engine some four years earlier, built the first petrol-powered cab, but the Metropolitan Police refused to license such a crazy device until 1904.

The taximeter was invented in 1891 by Wilhelm Bruhn and it is from this that the term taxi is derived. The taximeter measures the distance travelled and time taken of all journeys, allowing an accurate fare to be charged. The word comes from French taxe ('price') and Greek metron ('measure'). Previous inventions for calculating fares included the "Patent Mile-Index" in 1847 and the "Kilometric Register" in 1858. These were disliked by cab drivers as they did not want their incomes regulated by machines. Even Bruhn's taximeter ended up being thrown in the river by drivers, and were not made compulsory until 1907, his invention is still being used today.

The 'Knowledge of London' was introduced in 1851 by Sir Richard Mayne after complaints that cab drivers did not know where they were going at the time of The Great Exhibition in Hyde Park. Passing the Knowledge involves detailed recall of 25,000 streets within a six-mile radius of Charing Cross station. The locations of clubs, hospitals, hotels, railway stations, parks, theatres (including the stage door), courts, restaurants, colleges, government buildings and places of worship are also required. In addition Blue Plaques, statutes and London curiosities can be asked. The examinations take the form of a one-to-one oral test and take over three years to pass.

Taxi Trivia

Drivers do not have to stop if you hail them, whether or not the yellow 'taxi' sign is lit. This is because legally, taxis are not plying for hire when they are moving. However, if they do stop, they are considered "standing in the street" and cannot refuse a fare under 12 miles or that will take less than one hour.
Many people believed the original 6-mile limit was to ensure that the poor old horse didn't get too tired pulling the cab. In fact it was linked to London's chain of defences that had been erected during the Civil War in 1642. The defences were approximately 6 miles from the City and Westminster and it was deemed as dangerous for Hackney coaches to pass through these robust emplacements.
Taxi drivers do not have to wear a seat belt when they are working, but must belt up when they are driving home.
Taxi drivers are not legally obliged to give change. If a large note is offered the driver is entitled to take the cash and then offer to post the change to the passenger's home address.
The classic London black cab is the Austin FX-4 and was introduced in 1958 remaining in production until 1996. In 1989 a version of the vehicle went on sale in Japan badged as the "Big Ben Novelty Car".
In the 1960s the wealthy oil heir Nubar Gulbenkian had a luxurious limousine built on an FX-4 taxi chassis for his own use while in London. "Apparently it can turn on a sixpence", he used to tell acquaintances, "whatever that is".
The reason London taxis are so high is so that the "toffs" didn't have to remove their top hats.
The rate of a shilling (5p) was set in 1662 when King Charles II passed an Act to control coachmen; this rate was not to be exceeded unto 1950.
An Act of Parliament in 1784 gave the Hackney carriage trade the sole right to use their coaches as "hearses and mourning coaches at funerals".
The heroic explorer Sir Ernest Shackleton was a regular visitor to the old green shelter which originally stood at Hyde Park Corner; the shelter's regulars presented him with a set of pipes and a pipe rack. His letter of thanks hung proudly on the shelter wall until the shelter was pulled down to make way for the Piccadilly underpass.
The last horse-drawn Hackney carriage license was surrendered as late as 3rd April 1947.
Rear-view mirrors became a legal requirement in 1968, but to prevent cabbies ogling the legs of their lady passengers they couldn't be adjusted, rendering them almost useless.
Harold Wilson when Prime Minister wanted to nationalise the taxi trade and force drivers to wear a liveried uniform and be paid a salary.
London cabbies are expected to abide by laws encompassed in the London Hackney carriage Acts of 1831 and 1843. Among these antiquated laws are terms of one or two months imprisonment for "misbehaviours during employment" and "use of insulting or abusive gestures during employment".
Take care that you don't contravene the Public Health (Control of Disease) Act 1984 when hailing a cab for "No person who knows he is suffering from a notifiable disease shall enter a cab without previously notifying the owner or driver of his condition".
When a special Buckingham Palace Brownie Pack was formed for Princess Anne in 1959, one of the other nine-year-olds handpicked to keep her company was the daughter of a London cabbie.
The actress Keeley Hawes' father is a cabbie as are both her older brothers. Amy Winehouse's dad Mitch, in addition to being a musician and singer, drives a London cab. Entertainer Brian Conley's late father was once a London cabbie.

Picture: www.catsvintagetaxi.co.uk

Statues' anatomy-2

Thu, 25 Apr 2013 08:30:00 +0100

Achilles' Penis

Achilles Statue in Hyde Park was cast in 1822 from cannons taken in the Peninsular War and at Waterloo and presented by 'The Women of England' as a tribute to Arthur Wellesley, the Duke of Wellington. It was the very first statue of a naked man on public display in London. Originally anatomically correct, if you get my drift, but after the aforementioned women realised that all parts of a man's anatomy scale up in size proportionately, a fig leaf was added later to save blushes. The addition has been chipped off twice - in 1870 and 1961, probably to see what's underneath. If you look closely at the image you can just see the join.

Haig's Urinating Horse

Douglas, 1st Earl Hag who commanded the British forces in 1915 during the first world war, but has since been denigrated for his mismanagement of the battle of Passchendale, his critics were quick to point out that the hind legs of his horse suggest not propulsion but urinating.

Prospero's bum

On the first floor directly over the entrance with its statute of Prospero and Ariel is the council chamber, the statute depicting from Shakespeare's Tempest, Prospero sending Ariel, the spirit of the air, symbolises the future of broadcasting to the world. Eric Gill its sculptor it would seem had other ideas. He insisted on carving the statute in situ. Standing on scaffolding above the entrance, female employees on arriving would be greeted by the unwelcome sight of London's first 'builder's bum' for Gill wore a monk's habit with nothing underneath. When completed Prospero was found to have a girl's face carved upon his bottom, the image facing the council chamber. As for Ariel being sent out into the world, he would appear rather well endowed for that, for such a young child.

King William III's mole

Equine statutes litter London's landscape, but one in St. James's Square illustrates just how dangerous riding horses can be: this statute of King William III was erected in 1806 and there is something strange about it. A small molehill lies at the feet of Sorrel, the King's horse. What is the molehill for? The answer is that William is said to have died of pneumonia, a complication from a broken collarbone, resulting from a fall off his horse. Because his horse had stumbled into a mole's burrow. William was the Protestant King brought to England from Holland to replace the last Catholic: King James. James's supporters and all Jacobites then and now still toast "the little gentleman in the black velvet waistcoat". The mole that killed a king. The saying "Dutch Courage" also comes from William III's reign.

Statues' anatomy-1

Mon, 22 Apr 2013 08:30:00 +0100

The posing artist

Situated next to the Blue Fin Building on Bankside is what looks at first glance to be a simple bronze statue standing on a stone plinth. However, the mischievous figure will observe the world around him and react to passers-by by mimicking poses they strike in front of him. The playful sculpture will even create his own poses if left alone. The work entitled Monument to the Unknown Artist is the work of Greyworld who have produced many automatomic installations one of their most famous works is The Source, a 32 metre installation seen daily on TV as it opens the London Stock Exchange's trading day every morning.

Albert's little number

A huge Gothic edifice erected to the memory of Prince Albert, the consort of Queen Victoria, is decorated with sculptures which reveal an extraordinary but quite unintentional set of coincidences. There are 61 human figures (Albert died in 1861); there are 19 men (Albert was born in 1819); there are 42 women (Albert died at age 42); and there are 9 animals (Albert had 9 children).

Handel's ear

The statue of Handel in Westminster Abbey has someone else's ear. The sculptor, Louis Francois Roubillac, thought that Handel's ear, though without doubt musical, was rather ugly. So he used as a model the ear of a certain Miss Rich, which, though not at all musical, was sculpturally perfect.

Fertility's finger

In the gardens of Smithfield stands the statue of a young woman wearing a solid gold wedding ring. The ring was found by the market superintendent in 1924, and when no one claimed it, he had it soldered onto her finger, because as she had been standing there, supposed to represent fertility since 1873, he thought it was high time she got married.

Dark Satanic Mill

Thu, 18 Apr 2013 08:30:00 +0100

Food producers adulterating our food is a recurring problem.

When the Albion Flour Mills opened the traditional millers - who feared the factory would drive their wind and water mills out of business - had for a long time been spreading rumours that flour from the factory was adulterated with all manner of unpleasant substances.

Since bread was the main diet of the poor millers were often portrayed as the greedy cheating baddie. At times of high wheat prices bakers and millers would be the target of rioters, often accused along with farmers and landowners of hoarding to jack up prices. Bread riots could involve the whole community, though they were often led by women, rioters would often seize bread and force bakers to it at a price they thought fair.

The Albion Mill was the first significant factory built in London. It was situated east side of Blackfriars Road on the approach to Blackfriars Bridge close by the Thames. Inside this modern wonder of its day, vast steam engines powered mill wheels which ground the flour on a huge scale.

Before the fire grinding 10 bushels of wheat per hour, by 20 pairs of 150 horsepower millstones, the Mills were the industrial wonder of the time, quickly becoming a fashionable sight of the London scene, they were regarded as the most powerful machines in the world. The trendy middle and upper classes had liked to drive to Blackfriars in their coaches and gawp at the new industrial age being born.

But in 1791 the factory dramatically burned to the ground in very suspicious circumstances.

The Mills stood in Blackfriars, an area together with neighbouring Southwark long notorious for its rebellious poor and for artisan and early working class political organisation. At one time the Thames bank at Lambeth was littered with windmills - eventually they were all put out of business by steam power. When the Albion opened London millers feared ruin.

It was hardly surprising that when mill was an inferno, they made their joy immediately apparent. A huge crowd gathered and made no effort to save the Mills, but stood around watching in grim satisfaction. Later in the day locals and mill workers danced around the smoking ruins, ballads of rejoicing were printed and sung on the spot and millers waved placards which read 'Success to the mills of ALBION but no Albion Mills.'

After a soldier and a constable got into a row, a fight broke out leading to a mini-riot; but firemen turned their hoses on crowd thus the first recorded use of early water cannon. To further make their point, the millers labelled the factory Satanic.

William Blake lived a short distance from the factory and it is thought the event inspired the line 'Dark Satanic mills' in his poem And Did Those Feet in Ancient Time, later made famous as the hymn Jerusalem.

A tall tail

Mon, 15 Apr 2013 08:30:00 +0100

This week I found a little mouse sitting on top of the bird seed which is stored in plastic containers in my shed. How he came to be there I have no idea.

The sight of my furry friend reminded me of what is claimed to be London's smallest statute although Peter Berthoud would seem to disagree.

Two mice are fighting over a piece of cheese high up on a building on the south-eastern corner of Philpot Lane by the junction with 23 Eastcheap. They apparently date from 1862 when the building was constructed for the spice merchants Messrs Hunt & Crombie by John Young & Son.

No documents seem to exist as to who sculpted this homage to fromage, however they could be a memorial to a tragic fight between two builders over a cheese sandwich - except the sandwich hadn't been invented at that time.

The builders in question were working on the Monument, designed by Sir Christopher Wren and built between 1671-77 to commemorate the Great Fire of London. It stands on the junction of Fish Street Hill and Monument Street about 400ft away from Philpot Lane.

At some point during the Monument's construction, the two builders sat down to enjoy their packed-lunch of bread and cheese. Having a head for heights - well you would doing that job - the men were content to sit at their workplace, perched on a high scaffold.

This was before steel scaffolding, hard hats and the ubiquitous hi-vis jackets, no health and safety in those days.

One of the men noticed that his cheese had been nibbled away. His suspicion as to the identity of the cheese nibbler, for reasons best known to him, fell on his mate sitting beside him perched high up on the Monument.

A fight broke out not wise when you're poised so high up. Trading punches, the unfortunate pair lost their footing and plunged to the ground to their deaths.

It was only later, after similar disappearances of bread and cheese, that the real culprits were discovered - an infestation of tiny mice.

Pictures from Donna Rutherford

Famous fictional front doors

Thu, 11 Apr 2013 08:30:00 +0100

London has always been a rich seam for novelists, its diverse population from every corner of the world, 2,000 year history and its varied architecture makes for works of fiction. Here is a illustrated list of front doors that don't exist:

280 Westbourne Park Road

Remember the famous blue door that belonged to Hugh Grant's character in the 1999 romantic comedy Notting Hill? When the movie was filmed, it belonged to Notting Hill writer and director Richard Curtis, after it became such a hit (the highest grossing British film to date, in fact), Curtis cleverly sold his home at a nice profit, nice work if you can get it.

The new owners became tired of all the attention their famous blue door received and auctioned it off for charity, and a nondescript black door now stands in its place.

221b Baker Street

When Conan Doyle installed his great detective at No 221 the street numbering ran no further than 85.

Eventually extended in 1930, the new 221 was eventually subsumed into the London headquarters of the Abbey National Building Society which for years continued to receive fan mail for the fictional detective.

Santander has now taken over the Abbey and a 'fictional' front door stands conveniently next door to the Sherlock Holmes Gift Shop.

27a Wimpole Street

"In Hertford, Hereford, Hampshire, hurricanes hardly ever happen".

The masculine book lined study occupied by Professor Henry Higgins who takes a bet from Colonel Pickering that he can transform unrefined, dirty Cockney flower girl Eliza Doolittle into a lady in My Fair Lady are supposedly at this address, although in reality the premises are occupied by a doctors' surgery.

"I have often walked down this street before;
But the pavement always stayed beneath my feet before . . ."

110a Piccadilly

Why Dorothy L. Sayer invented a fictional address for her great character Lord Peter Wimsey she inserted an 'a' in the address, suggesting either an act of homage to Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes or a sly parody of his 221b Baker Street.

Unfortunately as a front door it remains fictional for the Park Lane Hotel ballroom occupies the site.

The yellow taxi required light above seems to be permanently switched on and ignored by the majority of cabbies.

The greatest day in our history

Mon, 08 Apr 2013 08:30:00 +0100

We've all had a Tardis Teaser fantasy. What moment in history would you like to be transported if you had a time machine?

One point in London's timeline worthy of consideration might be the opening of 'The Palace of the Great Exhibition of the Works of Industry of All Nations' or as Punch nicknamed it the Crystal Palace. Covering 19 acres with room inside to accommodate four St. Paul's Cathedrals it was at the time the largest building on earth.

Started 160 years ago on 31st August 1850, a year earlier it had not even existed as an idea, until Henry Cole more famous for inventing the Christmas card conceived the idea after visiting the Paris Exhibition.

An open competition attracted 245 designs all were deemed unworkable. A design committee was formed having amongst their number Isambard Kingdom Brunel, and between them they produced a vast low, dark shed of a building, needing 30 million bricks. Now with only 16 months to go desperate times required desperate measures and Joseph Paxton was approached.

Paxton, born into a poor farming family in Bedfordshire, he was at the age of 20 running an experimental arboretum for the Horticultural Society. There one day he made such an impression on the Duke of Devonshire in that his strong, clear voice could be heard by the near deaf Peer of the Realm, he was offered the post of Head Gardener at Chatsworth House.

Paxton really was a boy wonder, he created one of the great gardens of England at Chatsworth with the Emperor Fountain's raising a jet of water 290 feet into the air, a feat only exceeded once to this day in Europe; built the largest rockery in the country; designed estate villages; became the world's expert on dahlias; produced the country's finest melons, figs, peaches and nectarines winning numerous prizes; he ran two gardening magazines; a daily newspaper; he was on the board of three railway companies; built the world's first municipal park, later copied to form Central Park in New York; the hot house at Chatsworth he built was so vast that when Queen Victoria visited the Great Stove, as it was called, she toured it in a horse drawn carriage.

Learning of the committee's struggle to design a building for the Great Exhibition he doodled plans while chairing a meeting and had completed drawing ready for review in two weeks. The design broke all the criteria stipulated for the competition, but desperate times required desperate measures and after a few days of hand wringing the committee accepted them in their entirety.

Nothing, really absolutely nothing, says more about Victorian Britain and its capacity for brilliance than entrusting this iconic building to a gardener. No bricks, no mortar, no foundations, prefabricated from standard parts away from the building site it was simply bolted together. The build time was phenomenal in eight months, one million square feet of glass, 18,000 panes a week (one third of all the glass produced that year); 20 miles of guttering, 33,000 iron trusses and tens of thousands of planks of wooden flooring, this being tested by a battalion of soldiers marching across it. The finished building was 1,851 feet long (in celebration of the year the exhibition was held, now copied by the new World Trade Centre whose height matches in feet the year of their independence), 408 feet across and 110 feet high and spacious enough to accommodate a much admired avenue of mature elm trees.

Queen Victoria opened the exhibition on 1st May 1851 describing with some justification that it was "the greatest day in our history". Open for five and a half months it attracted six million people at a time when Britain had a population of only 20,959,477. Almost 100,000 objects went on display; a knife with 1,851 blades; furniture carved from coal; a 4-sided piano; a bed which automatically tipped its surprised occupant into his morning bath; an enormous lump of guano from Peru. Newfoundland for some inexplicable reason devoted its entire stand to cod-liver oil, and the highlight of the day was a use of the elegant 'retiring rooms' the flushing toilets, a novelty at the time.

Unlike its successors the Great Exhibition cleared a profit of £186,000, enough to buy 30 acres of land south of the exhibition site where the Royal Albert Hall, Victoria and Albert Museum, Natural History Museum, the Royal College of Art and Royal College of Music were later built.

After the Exhibition was closed the Crystal Palace was moved to Sydenham were we managed to burn it to the ground in 1936. All that marks its passing is the Colebrookdale Gates originally made to stand at the entrance to the north transept of the Exhibition, now moved to the entrance to Kensington Gardens beside Alexandra Gate and behind which Albert sits enthroned in his memorial, on his lap he holds a book: The Catalogue of the Great Exhibition.

Cabbie's aide-memoiré

Thu, 04 Apr 2013 08:30:00 +0100

If you conducted a global poll to see in which aspects of life Britain leads the world, the answer would not be public transport, town planning, manufacturing, national cuisine, plumbing, dentistry or education. But, by general consent, London does have the best taxi drivers. We are famed for our knowledge of the city and our ability to recall a large amount of information. So as with cramming for exams here as a few tricks of the trade.

Acronyms:

By taking the first letters we have created:

WASP the four streets that go from St. Leonard's Terrace to South Kensington Junction; Walpole Street, Anderson Street, Sloane Avenue and Pelham Street.

CAB Chelsea, Albert and Battersea Bridges.

COB the three respective roads they lead into said bridges: Chelsea Bridge Road, Oakley Street and Beaufort Street.

Mnemonics:

The following mnemonics can be used to help you remember the orders of certain London-based features:

We Have Water Below Moving Soft London Turds

Bridges across the Thames from west to east - Westminster, Hungerford, Waterloo, Blackfriars, Millennium, Southwark, London, Tower.

It was fortuitous that when they renamed the old Globe theatre in Shaftsbury Avenue to the Gielgud it didn't spoil the mnemonic: Little Apples Grow Quickly Please; five theatres on the north side of Shaftesbury Avenue: Lyric, Apollo, Gielgud, Queens, Palace, and if you prefer, with a greengrocer's apostrophe 's at the end you get the Shaftsbury Theatre.

Good For Dirty Women

Soho streets running north to south - Greek, Frith, Dean, Wardour.

London never admits court members bearing arms

The old gates of the City west to east Ludgate Newgate Aldersgate Cripplegate Moorgate Bishopsgate Aldgate.

Miscellaneous

Our brain would seem to be the opposite of a computer, we have trouble storing large amounts of data, but an inexhaustible capacity for storing images. Therefore when trying to remember the location of Frankie Howard's blue plaque (27 Edwardes Square, Kensington, London W8 6HH, if you're interested), just visualise Up Pompeii in the square.

The Dirty Dozen The twelve streets from Regent Street to Charing Cross Road that get you across Soho - well before they started CrossRail - Great Marlborough Street, Noel Street, Berwick Street, D'Arblay Street, Wardour Street, Hollen Street, Great Chapel Street, Fareham Street, Dean Street, Carlisle Street, Soho Square, Sutton Row.

Waterborne cabbies

Mon, 01 Apr 2013 08:30:00 +0100

In the 16th Century the Company of Watermen were the equivalent to today's cabbies. Created by an Act of Parliament in 1556 and given a grand of a Royal Patient in 1585, their trade like ours today was carefully licensed.

They would ply for hire from designated locations along the Thames, with the cry of "Oars! Oars!" which later was forbidden as the cry could be confused by tourists with "Whores! Whores!"

When the watermen were not transporting people they would turn their hand to salvage and found a brisk trade in finding bodies, either suicides or those who'd accidentally drowned or been murdered.

By a curious quirk of history, the origins of which are now lost, bodies were almost always landed on the south side of the river because the authorities would pay a shilling for a body landed in Southwark but only sixpence for one landed on the north bank. Clearly waterborne cabbies were not averse to 'going south of the river' in those days.

A nice little earner would be from the City to as far up river as Hampton Court, and by 1700 over 10,000 watermen plied for hire.

The trade was not without its dangers; if you wanted to travel downstream below London Bridge you risked life and limb. A major feature of London Bridge was the effect it had on the Thames. The location of the bridge's 19 timber pier supports (called starlings) was determined by riverbed conditions and this meant that they were varied in spacing across the river. Consequently, the arch spans varied in size too and boats navigating the arches encountered different currents and river conditions at each one. Some were more dangerous than others. Over the years, boatmen christened the arches with various names, such as Gut Lock and Long Entry.

Navigating through the bridge in a boat could be very dangerous because the closeness and number of starlings backed up the river water, creating rapids. In some places the drop in water height from one side of the bridge to the other was more than the height of a man. Many people lost their lives 'shooting' the bridge and "Drowned at the bridge" became a common entry in the registers at nearby graveyards.

Most Londoners took Cardinal Wolsey example. On his frequent visits to Greenwich to see Henry VIII, he would have his barge stopped above the bridge and get out and travel to Billingsgate by mule, where he would rejoin his barge, providing it had successfully negotiated the rapids.

The illustration is a detail from an artistic reconstruction of Old London Bridge based on an engraving from approximately 1600 by John Norden. From Old London Reconstructed. As you can see the bridge was entirely built up; there were houses, businesses, even a chapel, perched on the bridge clear across the Thames.

A match made in Hell

Thu, 28 Mar 2013 08:30:00 +0000

On Fairfield Road, Bow stands the Bryant & May match factory, which in 1980s became one of the first industrial buildings in London to be converted into apartments when it was renamed the Bow Quarter.

In the summer of 1888 what happened in this building became a pivotal moment in the history of the labour movement.

The match girls working there were regarded as the lowest strata of society; long hours in appalling conditions, hired and fired at the will of the management, and its workers suffering dreadful industrial injuries.

Bryant & May were regarded at the time as a model employer, much the same as the Cadburys, a similar Quaker employer who built for their workers the Bourneville village.

The Bryant & May strike started when a Fabian journalist Annie Besant after having interviewed some of the match girls wrote a scathing article of their life working in the factory. Entitled 'White Slavery in London' Besant highlighted that shareholders' dividends of 20 per cent were achieved only by cutting their meagre wages lower than 15 years previously.

The youngest of the women were so malnourished they still looked like children; the factory foreman would beat employees; and if they succumbed to an industrial injury they were sacked.

Far worse than those conditions were phossy jaw where toxic particles from white phosphorous used in the match heads entered the workers jawbones through the holes in their teeth.

Initially causing facial swelling eventually the jaw would decay with pieces of bone working through the suppurating abscesses. In the final stages, like lepers, they would live outside London as the smell from their decaying jaw became intolerable, before they succumbed to an agonising death.

Besant's article shocked the Nation and prompted the match girls to strike - the first of its kind in the country - it the sowed the seeds for the establishment of the modern Labour Party and women's rights when employed.

Questions were raised in the House by MPs. the Times published editorials shaming the previously unblemished reputation of Bryant & May, and socialite George Bernard Shaw among others voiced his support for them. The match girls even received death threats from someone claiming to be Jack the Ripper, whose reign of fear started some weeks later in East London.

Within two weeks their demands had been met and they returned to work, but it would be a century later before Bryant & May would acknowledge any wrong doing on their part.

Just a year after the match girl's victory thousands of the country's most exploited workers would gain union recognition, the most famous being after the Dock Strike which began at short walk from Bryant & May's factory in East London.

This year marks the 125th anniversary of the strike which became a pivotal point in the trade union movement and employees working conditions. As Louise Raw remarked when interviewed on the Robert Elms show on Radio London, now is the time to unveil a Blue Plaque alongside the one dedicated to Annie Besant, to those brave and exploited girls who had the temerity to take on a powerful employer - and win.

A far more comprehensive history of the match girls strike can be found on Louise Raw's website.

Walled in Waldorf

Mon, 25 Mar 2013 08:30:00 +0000

When you are the richest man in America and require an office - and somewhere to house your mistress - you need something just a little palatial.

And that is exactly what William Waldorf Astor did in 1892 when he commissioned John Louthborough Pearson to design 2 Temple Place.

Astor had inherited a fortune some $100million on the death of his father in 1890 and after a family row declared America "was no longer a place where a gentleman could live", a remark for which his countrymen never forgave him.

After buying the Cliveden Estate (later of Christine Keeler fame) and fearing for the safety of his family he blocked access to the land, prompting the sobriquet "Waldorf by name walled off by nature". He would later buy Hever Castle in Kent and again ever mindful of security would banish visitors at night from the castle and raise its drawbridge. On another occasion he asserted to Lady Warwick that were he to pull a lever beside his chair every door in 2 Temple Place would close and she could not possible get out without his permission, as rather alarming prospect as she later recorded in her memoirs.

Astor's mild paranoia with security was to our benefit. For his office - he did after all own a house in the more fashionable Carlton House Terrace one mile away - is built in the Gothic style of the late Victorian period.

It looks like a fortified house from the outside, with a golden weathervane on its roof, a copy of Christopher Columbus' ship the Santa Maria.

But it's when you enter the house that you are in for a treat. "Hello there, yes the entrance is free and our exhibition of William Morris has a 72-page catalogue, if you would care to borrow it. The cafe and toilets are on your left around the corner". Amazing when did you ever get a greeting like that in an art gallery, or see at the foot of the stairs the largest floral display of amaryllis outside the Royal Horticultural Society?

On the interior of the house no expense was spared by Astor, no flight of fancy too grand, this is Victorian over-embellishment taken to the highest level. Panels featuring Shakespearian themes, Arthurian knights and what must be a pair of the finest Victorian stained glass windows in London.

Now after a succession of corporate owners the Bulldog Trust, a charity who aims to inspire others into philanthropy has purchased Astor House the ex-office of one of England's greatest charitable donors. Astor himself took up British citizenship and was give a peerage for his charitable benefactions.

The Bulldog Trust intends to open its doors every year to house exhibitions. At the moment transferred from Walthamstow is the William Morris collection which finishes at the end of the month. Beautifully presented and rated 2nd best by Time Out. Who said of Astor House:

"Lavish, quite bonkers . . . and rather endearing . . . "

The Cabman's nemesis

Thu, 21 Mar 2013 08:30:00 +0000

Mrs Giacometti Prodgers, the Cabman's Nemesis

Heather Tweed explores the story of the woman whose obsessive penchant for the lawsuit struck fear into the magistrates and cabmen of Victorian London alike.

Imagine, if you will, strolling towards a Hackney cabstand in late 19th century London. Suddenly the cry 'Mother Prodgers!' echoes around the streets. The cab drivers scarper, leaving the stand empty but for a seemingly innocuous, overdressed woman: Mrs Caroline Giacometti Prodgers, nemesis of cabmen, zealous litigant and infamous music hall conversation topic.

Over the course of two decades she was to lead a one woman campaign against the notorioulsy truculent cabmen of London. She took to court the publisher of a major newspaper and even her own cook. Her stubbornness was caricatured in print and sung about in music halls. One desperate cab driver went so far as to burn her effigy on bonfire night.

Her first taste of life in the courts came in 1871, when she began proceedings to divorce her husband of ten years, an Austrian naval captain called Giovanni Battista Giacometti. The case set a precedent for divorces in which the wife was wealthier than the husband (the Prodgers family found itself with a considerable fortune through her mother, a wealthy heiress whom her father, the Reverand Prodgers, had married after rescuing her from drowning). The details of Giacometti v Prodgers would regularly make the papers, including such oddities as Mrs Prodgers questioning the legitimacy of her own children, presumably in an attempt to try and disinherit Giovanni from her family fortune. Following the actual divorce there were other legal wranglings. It was reported that her husband Giovanni had given up his whole career at Mrs Prodgers'' request and that, after the divorce, he had taken her to court over non payment of a yearly settlement. The Prodgers family, taking his side, agreed on an additional several hundred pounds per year. Mrs Prodgers found herself again in court after failing to pay a shorthand writer she had, debatably, hired during the divorce proceedings.

It was soon after the divorce and its various spin off cases that Mrs Prodgers began her infamous crusade against London cab drivers. Her modus operandi was to catch a cab to a specific destination to which she knew the exact distance (she had familiarised herself with the cost charts), then ask the cabman to stop just at the point where the fare would change. Invariably the cabman would attempt to charge her for the next part of the fare, which she would dispute. One or other party would then threaten a lawsuit and she would continue to goad the often irate cabman into verbal abuse and swearing whereupon she'd immediately threaten another writ.

Chart of cab fares by distance from Waterloo Station: (Source)

She was remarkably successful and ended up bringing over 50 cases to court - many of which descended into farce. Reports on the various cases are packed with amusing incidents. There is extended banter over the use of her full name (which she always insisted upon). One judge suggests that it might be cheaper for her to purchase a carriage than keep returning to court.

In addition to cab related litigations she was involved in a string of court cases regarding other matters. She sued her dismissed cook for refusing to leave her house (and continuing 'to sing about the place'). She sued a newspaper publisher for accidentally tearing her dress during an altercation after she refused to pay the full penny for a paper (which she thought she might be mentioned in). She sued a watchmaker for returning the wrong watch to her house. Her obsessive and sometimes bizarre activity in the courts did not go unnoticed.

In 1875 she had the dubious honour of having an effigy of her burnt on bonfire night, a 'gigantic figure' paraded around on a cab. The police intervened and arrested the cab driver - rather bizarrely on the charge of 'begging' (the accounts don't report if Mrs Prodgers had any influence over the arrest). The judge dismissed the case saying that the cabbie was 'acting as a showman for the amusement of the public' and that it was merely meant as a joke.

Mrs Giacometti Prodgers appeared several times in Punch magazine. A satirical piece in 1890, the year of her death, coincided with controversial plans to fit each Hackney cab with a mechanical device to measure distances and calculate the cost of each journey:

A Autumn-attic happaratus
For measuring off our blooming fares!
Oh, hang it all! They slang and slate us;
They say we crawls, and cheats, and swears.
And we surwives the sneering slaters,
Wot tries our games to circumvent,
But treating us like Try-yer-weighters,
Or chockerlate, or stamps, or scent!
Upon my soul the stingy dodgers
Did ought to be shut up. They're wuss
Than Mrs. JACKERMETTY PRODGERS,
Who earned the 'onest Cabman's cuss.
It's sickening! Ah, I tell yer wot, Sir,
Next they'll stick hup-oh, you may smile-
This:-"Drop a shilling in the slot. Sir,
And the Cab goes for just two mile!"
Beastly! I ain't no blessed babby,
Thus to be measured off like tape.
Yah! Make a autumn-attic Cabby,
With clock-work whip and a tin cape.
May as well, while you're on the job, Sir.
And then-may rust upset yer works!
The poor man of his beer they'd rob, Sir,
Who'd rob poor Cabby of his perks!

Such was her notoriety that the reverse of her name, Sregdorpittemmocaig, was used for a character in The Sunless City, a novel by J.E. Preston and Punch punnily suggested that she had penned her own book after the Hansom cab: 'Hansom Is As Hansom Does'. She also made it onto the pantomime circuit when comedian Herbert Campbell performed a verse about her:

'All great men have their statues and it's but their due,
But I wonder why the ladies don't have them too;
If they did, to the Academy I'd like to send,
A bust of Mrs Prodgers the Cabman's friend.
Of all the strong-minded females she's the worst I ever saw,
Oh, wouldn't she be lovely as a mother-in-law?
At the corner of every cab-rank her flag should be unfurled
As a horrible example to this wicked world.'

The press painted a picture of a formidable if eccentric woman who should be avoided at all costs if one did not wish to encounter her wrath. One might speculate that a certain amount of misogyny and sexism fuelled by the women's suffrage movement may have played its part in the press coverage and urban mythology. Had she been a man might she have been hailed as a champion of consumer rights, rather than dismissed as a caricature?

Illustration of a funeral cab passing outside the Old Bailey, from Omnibuses and Cabs: their origin and history (1902), by Henry Charles Moore: (Source)

One person who seemed to take her seriously was the explorer and Victorian polymath Sir Richard Burton, who entertained her in his house, and reportedly supported her campaign. According to Burton's biographer Thomas Wright two of Burton's cousins had a running family joke about the relationship between Mrs Giacometti Prodgers and Sir Richard:

At the (Athenæum) club he was never at home to anybody except a certain Mrs. Giacometti Prodgers... according to rumour, there was a flavour of romance about her marriage. It was said that while the laws of certain countries regarded her as married, those of other countries insisted that she was still single. However, married or not, she concentrated all her spleen on cab-drivers,...and having a profound respect for Burton's judgment, she often went to him about these cab disputes, and, oddly enough, though nobody else could get at him, he was always at the service of Mrs. Prodgers, and good-naturedly gave her the benefit of his wisdom. To the London magistrates the good lady was a perpetual terror, and Frederick Burton, a diligent newspaper reader, took a pleasure in following her experiences. "St. George," he would call across the breakfast table, "Mrs. Giacometti Prodgers again: She's had another cab-man up".

Sadly first hand anecdotal evidence does nothing to alleviate the true awfulness of her character. She appears to have been as rude to fellow members of the public as she was to porters and cab drivers. Upon being offered a cup of tea by another passenger on a ship she was travelling on, she allegedly replied "I have only had afternoon tea once in my life, and that was with the Duke of Sutherland". Her arrival in various ports around the world was often reported upon in the local press - followed by a sigh of relief when she departed. Unfortunately one has the impression the same might be said about her departure from life in 1890. Her obituary as reported in foreign papers was blunt and concise:

Mrs. Giacometti Prodgers, the terror of London cabmen, is dead. Her habit was to drive the fullest possible distance for the money, pay the exact legal fare, and then cause the arrest of the cabman for expressing his feelings.

Heather Tweed is a multimedia artist and educator based in the UK. She has exhibited pieces widely throughout the UK as well as in New York, Tokyo and the Library Of Congress in Washington. She has worked with organizations including The British Council Cairo, Bristol City Council and Arts & Business. The ever expanding installation 'Anubis Other World Tour' has been visiting art galleries, caves and other interesting venues scaring, delighting and perplexing in equal measure since 1997. Her website: www.heathertweed.co.uk

The Knowledge Alphabet

Mon, 18 Mar 2013 08:30:00 +0000

Today we have a guest post from @knowledgeboy10 whose blog London Taxi Knowledge records his journey that starts with buying a scooter to hopefully receiving his Green Badge so he can work as an all London taxi driver.

He invites you to share his highs and lows as he works his way through the 25,000 streets and learn every point [places] on them.

For the enthusiastic (or foolhardy) if you feel the urge to write a post the Radio Taxis blog is always open for submissions.

I thought I would write about something a bit different and slightly light hearted as I am getting very stressed about my progress so far, I'm half way through book two and seem to have hit a brick wall with my calling over, I just can't remember the runs, so I'm having a week off to re-charge my batteries and I thought this would be fun . . .

A - Appearances. The meeting with the examiners when we find out just how much we know or don't as the case may be, the joy of sitting in front of someone feeling very stupid and hoping all out hard work shows through.

B - Blue Book. Our bible, all 320 runs in a nice little book this is what our lives now revolve around!!!!.

C - Calling Over. The bane of our lives, we love being out there doing the runs visiting the points but then we have to call over either the BB or P2P hate it really hate it lol

D - Dedication. As Roy Castle used to sing, if you haven't got it give up now it's gonna take years to do, gonna take over your whole life nothing else will matter - if you're not dedicated then may as well not start.

E - Ex. Ex wives/girlfriends, unfortunately many of us KOL peeps can end up losing our partners as they can't put up with what we have to go through - I hope it doesn't happen to you!!!!!!

F - Fifty-six. The start of it the appearances, once the map test is out of the way the real fun begins!!!!!

G - Green Badge. Why we're doing this, the Holy Grail lol

H - Helmet. A KOL boys best friend for the times that you come off the bike due to Addison lee cutting you up!!!!

I - Impossible/Inspiration. How the KOL feels and what you need to get through it.

J - Job. Something most of us have to do to pay the bills while doing the KOL, a few lucky sods give up work but for the rest of us we have to fit in the KOL around it.

K - Knowledge Schools. Somewhere to go to meet other KOL peeps and get help and advice, or somewhere to go to find out you know a damn sight less than you thought you did!!!!

L - Lost. We all do it, don't deny it one of the pleasures of doing the KOL.

M - Maps. Second only to our Blue Book we love our maps we study them, write on them and when I've finished the KOL I never want to see another map again in my life.

N - New Friends. One of the joys of the KOL is meeting new people who are doing it, they are the people we can talk to about it and they understand what we're going through, and even when they pass out we're pleased for them even though we are soooooo jealous.

O - Over and Over and Over. What we do when we call runs, visit points EVERYTHING OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER and eventually it sinks in ( we hope)

P - Points. What we have to learn, all of them, every single bloody last one (for those of you that don't know a point is a place of public interest, on any road within a 6 mile radius of Charing Cross. Could be a hospital, church, shop, club police station or government building or anything else, and yes there are lots and lots and lots of them!!!)

Q - Quit. Out of every 10 people that start the KOL only 3/4 will get the Green Badge the rest quit. You can't fail the KOL only quit it.

R - Red-lined. What happens on appearances when you don't get enough points, means you could go from 28's back to 56's happens to the very best of us.

S - Scooter. The KOL peeps best friend, what we use to take us around London in all sorts of weather and hopefully it doesn't break down, I spend more time on my scooter than I do my missus!

T - TFL. The organisation responsible for putting us through this. Used to be the Carriage Office now TFL.

U - Understanding. What our Friends and family need to be while we have 3 years worth of mental breakdowns because we can't remember whether it's a right turn or a left turn.

V - Victories. We have little ones everyday, we find a point we couldn't or we finally work out how two roads link up, everyone of these is personal and no one else will understand just how great it feels when you get one.

W - Weather. Out on the scooter in the freezing cold or the pouring rain or when it's boiling hot - we take on the weather and win because we are on the KOL.

X - XXXX. Pick any swear word you like, and you'll say it a million times when you miss a turn, miss a point, come off your scooter or call over a run wrong, in fact if you dont' swear then you're not doing the KOL right.

Y - Why?. I ask myself this question everyday and it is a great motivator, we all have our reasons for doing the KOL, and we also ask ourselves why we put ourselves through it, but it's worth it at the end.

Z - ZZzzzzz. Sleep, What we all seem to miss out on doing the KOL, and when we do finally go to sleep we're thinking of the best lines to call or where a certain place is. How I wish for the days when I would fall asleep and just dream of me and the spice girls and a very large bottle of vodka.

I hope you enjoyed my light-hearted look at the alphabet, until next time stay safe and be lucky.

Lost bits of London Bridge

Thu, 14 Mar 2013 08:30:00 +0000

The first London Bridge was constructed by the Romans during their occupation of London around 50Ad. After the Romans abandoned Londinium the bridge fell into disrepair as the River Thames marked the boundary between the Saxon Kingdoms of Marcia and Wessex nobody bothered to maintain the structure.

A later bridge was thought to have been destroyed by Norwegian Price Olaf in the service of Anglo-Saxon King Aethelred against the Danes. This act might have given rise to the nursery rhyme London Bridge is Falling Down.

King John replaced an older bridge which had been destroyed by fire in 1136, all trace of the bridges prior to this date have been lost. Taking 33 years to build it boasted of having 7-storeys with shops below.

When this bridge was demolished in 1831 some features were sold off. Fourteen stone alcoves originally graced the bridge and four still survive. Two stand in Victoria Park, one stands in the grounds of Guys Hospital while the fourth, bizarrely ended up in the garden of a block of flats in East Sheen.

A coat of arms which was located above the bridge tollgate now can be seen above the door of the Kings Arms on Newcomen Street.

In 1896 it was estimated that the bridge was the busiest point in London, with 8,000 people crossing the bridge by foot and 900 crossing in vehicles every hour. London Bridge was widened in 1902-04 from 52 to 65 feet, in an attempt to combat London's chronic traffic congestion. A dozen of the granite 'pillars' quarried and dressed for this widening, but unused, still lie near Swelltor Quarry.

This bridge even after widening lasted barely a century when in the 1960's it was decided to replace it. Instead of demolishing it one member of the body responsible for London's bridges proposed that the bridge be sold.

Ivan Luckin - if ever a man needed to live up to the name - though he could find someone to take the bridge off the City's hands. This was not some 19th century granite monolith; this bridge was the embodiment of London's 2,000 year history.

Robert P. McCullock was building a city on the shores of Lake Havasu from scratch. The Colorado River had been dammed but the water at one end was in danger of going stagnant, he needed to redirect it by turning the peninsular obstructing the flow into an island, hence the need for a bridge.

McCulloch's bridge was reconstructed around a concrete frame using the 1831 London Bridge's stones as cladding. A few corbels from the Swelltor Quarry were sent as spares to America during this construction.

Not all the Rennie bridge made it to America. There's a piece of granite from it behind the Duke of Wellington statue at Bank, commemorating his involvement with the London Bridge Approaches Act 1827. Wonder how that compared with the Battle of Waterloo?

I could eat a horse

Mon, 11 Mar 2013 08:30:00 +0000

The site of 37 Albany Street was once home to naturalist William Buckland Dean of Westminster, a fanatical animal collector and one of London's strangest characters. To prove the efficacy of bird droppings as fertiliser he once used great quantities of it to write the word 'guano' on the lawn at his Oxford College. When the summer came and the grass had grown well the letters could be clearly seen.

Buckland's house was overrun with animals including two monkeys he let drink and smoke, some he slept with and others were kept till they died and then dissected or just left to rot. But Buckland's taste for natural history extended further.

He started the Society for the Acclimatisation of Animals which aimed to naturalise exotic animals to widen the nation's diet. His wide circle of friends were guests at Albany Street and were treated to roasted hedgehog, grilled crocodile streak, slug soup, horse's tongue, boiled elephant trunk, rhinoceros pie and boiled porpoise head which tasted like 'broiled lamp-wick'. If you partook of his generous hospitality, the chances are that the dish of the day came from an animal that had roamed Buckland's house and garden a little earlier as a pet.

Stewed mole was a dish that Buckland announced to be the most revolting thing he'd eaten, though this was before he tried 'horribly bitter' earwigs and 'unspeakable' bluebottles.

Buckland acquired exotic creatures when there was a death at nearby London Zoo. On one occasion returning from holiday he was furious to discover in his absence, the zoo had buried a dead leopard. Buckland eagerly dug it up for supper.

He showed no qualms in using his taste buds in pursuit of knowledge. Travelling to London on his horse one dark wintry night Buckland got lost, but trusting to his extraordinary sense of taste he simple dismounted, picked up a handful of earth, tasted it, shouted "Uxbridge!" and went on his way - if only London's cabbies could do the same.

While visiting a cathedral where saints' blood was said to drip on the floor, Buckland took one lick to determine the 'blood' was in fact bat urine.

Buckland's friend Edward Harcourt, Archbishop of York, was, like Buckland himself, a great collector of curiosities and had managed to obtain what was believed to be the shrunken, mummified heart of Louis XIV. He kept it in a snuff box in his London house and rashly showed it to Buckland during a dinner party. "I have eaten many things", Buckland is reported to have said, "but never the heart of a King" and before anyone could stop him he gobbled it up.

Picture: William Buckland in 1843.