BUS LANE (n.) Stagecoach highway that doth rob the intruder by way of eletronik spies.
Dr. Johnson’s London Dictionary for publick consumption in the twenty-first century avail yourself on Twitter @JohnsonsLondon
BUS LANE (n.) Stagecoach highway that doth rob the intruder by way of eletronik spies.
Dr. Johnson’s London Dictionary for publick consumption in the twenty-first century avail yourself on Twitter @JohnsonsLondon
Recently a letter was dropped on my doormat, addressed to CabbieBlog Imprint. The missive informed me that Everyone Is Entitled To My Opinion has been accepted by the British Library.
The most remarkable thing about it, and speaking as someone brought up on the British public library system, is that I can’t just go and pick my own volume off a bookshelf. There are no bookshelves – at least, none accessible by the great unwashed. A reader must order it online, and hopefully, within 48 hours, it’ll be available.
There are only a mere 35 million books in the basement (now hopefully 35 million and one) at the St Pancras building. The vast majority of the collection is up north in Boston Spa, Wetherby, and has to come down in a van if requested.
Should you wish, for some reason that escapes me, to read an antiquarian tome that belonged to King George III, because he gave his entire collection to the nation on the condition it remains visible to the public. And sure enough there it is, behind glass, in the centre of the main atrium. Needless to say, the public can’t just go in and pick one of the Monarch’s books off a shelf, outrageous idea. You have to order it like any other book – it’s just that it doesn’t have to travel by van to get to you.
And all that stuff you learned about the Dewey-Decimal system for categorising books? Forget it. Britain’s national library categorises them by size. Another illusion shattered.
This means that if a folio of Shakespeare’s sonnets is 8″ x 5″ we could be bedfellows.

Houses, churches, mixed together; Streets unpleasant in all weather; / Prisons, palaces contiguous, / Gates, a bridge, the Thames irriguous.
[ . . . ]
Many a beau without a shilling, / Many a widow not unwilling; / Many a bargain, if you strike it: / This is London! How d’ye like it?

John Bancks (1709-1751), A Description of London
On 21 May 1966 Henry Cooper lost to world champ Cassius Clay in the sixth round of a fight to retain the world heavyweight championship. Cooper’s hopes were dashed in the sixth round when the referee stopped the fight – a deep gash over his left eye forced him to concede victory to 24-year-old Clay. 40,000 spectators watched at Arsenal’s football ground as Cooper, aged 32, fought bravely with his big left hooks to battle against Clay’s quick footwork and fast punches.
On 21 May 1827 the Standard was founded, it became the dominant evening newspaper for London and is now the only one published a that time of day
Thief-Taker General Jonathan Wild sent more than 120 men to the gallows but was hanged at Tyburn for running gangs of thieves and highwaymen
When Camden’s Egyptian style cigarette factory opened in 1927 the road was filled with sand and opera singers performed Aida
In 1907 William Whiteley was shot dead in his Bayswater store by a young man claiming to be his illegitimate son
When Napoleon was thinking of invading England his failed attempt was mocked by an unusual ale house sign: ‘My Arse in a Bandbox’
The Grapes, Limehouse was the inspiration for Charles Dickens’ ‘Six Jolly Fellowship Porters’ in Our Mutual Friend
The Chelsea Flower Show (The May Flower Show of the Royal Horticulture Society) has been held at the Royal Hospital since 1913
Queen Victoria’s husband, Albert, saved the Oval cricket ground from closure only six years after it opened, desperate for funds they had considered adding poultry shows to the venue’s activities
Before CrossRail was named the Elizabeth line, Belsize Park was the only part of the London Underground to use a Z in its name
Wall’s Sausages used to be located at 113 Jermyn Street, where the meat for their products was ground by a donkey operating a treadmill
‘Hobson’s Choice’ comes from the livery stable owner Thomas Hobson who would drive from Cambridge to the Bull Inn, Bishopsgate Street
Trivial Matter: London in 140 characters is taken from the daily Twitter feed @cabbieblog.
A guide to the symbols used here and source material can be found on the Trivial Matter page.
For those new to CabbieBlog or readers who are slightly forgetful, on Saturdays I’m republishing posts, many going back over a decade. Some will still be very relevant while others have become dated over time. Just think of this post as your weekend paper supplement.
Depressed? Worried about the austerity measures promised by our new Political Masters? Before you decamp London for pastures new, consider this if you may, as CabbieBlog gives you the 10 years you really should be anywhere else but in our Capital City.
1212: Everybody has heard of the Great Fire of London in which only nine people lost their lives, but this one was much worse, leaving 3,000 dead according to medieval accounts. The conflagration led to new laws requiring the use of brick and tile for rebuilding instead of wood and thatch.
1348: The wise would have left long before November when the Black Death struck the Capital. With crowded streets and bad sanitation making the contagion spread even faster. By the time it had run its course half the population of England would be dead. Afterwards wages increased due to the chronic shortage of labour.
1381: With revolting peasants marching on London, the teenage king Richard II seeking refuge in the Tower of London. Prisoners released, palaces ransacked and burned and the Archbishop of Canterbury beheaded, scores of lawyers were also beheaded, so the year wasn’t all that bad.
1664: Call it what you like; dropsy, griping of the guts, wind, worms or the French Pox (we always like to blame the Frenchies), the Great Plague killed 100,000 that year. Manufacturing collapsed as Newcastle colliers refused to deliver fuel to London, and servants ransacking their master’s empty mansions.
1666: The Great fire destroyed 13,000 houses; 87 churches; 52 livery company halls; 4 prisons; 4 bridges; 3 City gates; Guildhall; the Royal Exchange and Customs House. The City was rebuilt within 6 years, so good news if you were a builder, not you day if you owned the bakery where it started.
1780: It started as an anti-Catholic march on Parliament, but after a gin distillery was breached the Gordon Riots turned into an orgy of looting and burning. At the end some 850 people had died, including bankers from the Bank of England, which must have seemed a good idea at the time. Once order had been restored its 21 ringleaders were hanged.
1858: It wasn’t until Parliament had to be evacuated because of the smell from sewers disgorging effluent into the Thames, that an efficient sewage system was commissioned. After a long dry hot summer and a cholera epidemic caused by the insanitary conditions it was known as the Great Stink.
1918: If the Great War wasn’t bad enough, returning soldiers brought back with them the flu virus. Killing more than the war London was especially vulnerable with it’s densely pack population transmitting the contagion more effectively. By the time the virus had run its course 220,000 Britons had died.
1940: On the night of 29th December Hitler sent hundreds of bombers to destroy London, the ensuring firestorm left 436 dead and ultimately damaging or destroying 3.5 million buildings by the time the Blitz was over. The blackout also caused the country’s highest ever traffic casualty figures.
1952: In December sulphur dioxide combining with rainwater and oxygen to form deadly sulphuric acid suspended in a dense fog and lasting for 7 days killed 4,000 residents together with scores of livestock at Smithfield. The Clean Air Act stopped the problem and an excuse for children to bunk off school.