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.

Liquid History (05.06.12)

The River Thames is etched into England’s psyche, over the years it has played a central role in the life of the nation, historically used for coronations, processions, funerals and as we saw this weekend pageants.

In 1929 the MP John Burns famously described the river as “The St Lawrence is water, the Mississippi is muddy water, but the Thames is liquid history”.

King Henry VIII loved his palaces at Greenwich and Richmond, but once he had sight of Cardinal Wolsley’s palace at Hampton Court he did not rest until he “persuaded” Wolsley to “give” it to him.

Queen Elizabeth I also loved Greenwich and Richmond, and it was at Richmond Palace in 1603 that she died. Her body was brought downstream to Westminster for her funeral on a magnificent black barge; the poet William Campden described the scene as follows:

“The Queen was brought by water to Whitehall. At every stroke of oars did tears fall”.

Less romantic was Henry VIII’s final trip from London to Windsor – he was due to be buried in St George’s Chapel there. During the overnight stop between London and Windsor his barge moored at Syon House in Isleworth. His coffin suddenly split open, and dogs were found licking his remains.

The banks of the Thames became the favoured location for buildings of all kinds, from monastic abbeys to gorgeous palaces. The huge number of famous buildings along the course of the Thames gave rise to the description of the river as a “string” linking a series of “pearls”.

In the 17th and 18th centuries during the hard winter freezes, Frost Fairs were held on the River Thames, complete with ox-roasting, groups of musicians playing, stalls selling a variety of popular novelties and food, fairground amusements and performing animals.

The last fair to be held on the Thames was in February 1814. In 1831 the old London Bridge was replaced, and – with the removal of the “starlings” or piers upon which the old bridge rested – the river no longer slowed down sufficiently for it to freeze over sufficiently to support public events.

The River Thames also provided some of the greatest “shows” seen on the water. In 1422 the Lord Mayor’s Show took to the water. The participating barges of the City Livery companies became ever more ornate. Barges were covered in gold leaf and some rowed with oars of silver.

In the 17th century, the Lord Mayor’s procession included dramas and pageants. However, these came to an end in 1856 as the river had become clogged up with working vessels.

It was an actor who established one of the most enduring traditions of the River Thames. In 1715 Thomas Doggett was so grateful to a local waterman for his efforts to ferry him home on a bad night, pulling against the tide that he set up a rowing race for professional watermen.

The winner receives prize money and also the coveted scarlet coat and badge, made of silver – hence the name of the race “Doggett’s Coat and Badge”. The race is still held on 1st August each year when professional watermen row from London Bridge to Chelsea and is recognised as the world’s oldest rowing race.

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.

Crowns, coronets and coronations (29.05.12)

It was, I think Cecil Rhodes who, without a trace of irony, stated: “Remember that you are an Englishman, and have consequently won first prize in the lottery of life.”

He might have said those words with more than a hint of arrogance but as we see this week we are blessed with the continuity that a Constitutional Monarchy gives and the pride we can have by being British.

With such a long pedigree as a nation it is not surprising that we have many traditions surrounding our Monarchs and some surprisingly remain with us to this day while alas many barmy ones have been abandoned. It is those curious and quirky anachronisms which bind us together and make us proud to live in this Sceptred Isle.

A Monarch’s spurs Samuel Pepys loved to see a lady who ‘showed off her pretty, neat legs and ankles’, unfortunately for brandy-loving Queen Anne when her turn came to be crowned her ankles had grown too fat for a functionary to buckle on a new pair of spurs and so this quaint custom was abandoned.

Quiet at the back When George III was crowned the service went on for so long – six hours – that the congregation decided they were hungry and sat down to eat, drowning out the ceremony with the clattering of their knives and forks.

Who nicked the silver? When Charles II was to be crowned, marking the restoration of the monarchy, the ceremony had to be postponed as Cromwell had disposed of all the appropriate regalia.

Which finger? The Archbishop of Canterbury is usually a fellow well past his prime, and thus it proved when Queen Victoria was crowned. The Coronation Ring had to be made smaller for her dainty finger, the incompetent cleric then jammed on a ring on the wrong finger and as a result, it got stuck and remained on the wrong finger for the rest of the ceremony.

Somebody has to clear up the mess In 1953 after the Queen’s coronation, cleaning in the Abbey found three ropes of pearls, twenty brooches, six bracelets, twenty golden balls from peers’ coronets, most a diamond necklace, numerous sandwich wrappers and an undisclosed but impressive quantity of empty half-bottles of spirits. It is not recorded who kept the booty.

Regal rag on bone men Three families share the role of the Lord Great Chamberlain a title that has been in existence since Norman times. The present holder the Marquess of Cholmondeley – Lord Carrington’s family and the Earl of Ancaster stand in the wings chomping at the bit – in return for some minor coronation ceremonial duties has the right to demand anything the sovereign wears during the ceremony (including underclothes), also his or her bed, and incredibly the throne.

On the throne Queen Anne was unable to sit on the throne (presumably left behind by the Lord Great Chamberlain) as she was so fat and gout-ridden that she had to be carried into the Abbey in her own chair. Her statue outside St. Paul’s west front doesn’t do her justice, at the time of its creation she was at least twice that size. Catholic Mary I refused to park her trim bum on the seat asserting that it had been defiled by the ‘Protestant heretic’ her brother Edward VI.

Losing it Henry IV trying his best to appear regal was hard pressed when he lost a shoe, followed by a spur from the other foot and finally to complete the indignity the wind blew the crown clean off his head.

Trouble with the ex At the coronation of George IV prize fighters were engaged to bar his estranged and enraged wife who proceeded to spend much of the day battering the doors of Westminster Abbey while wailing loudly that she had been barred.

Coronation chicken George VI’s big day was ruined when the Lord Chamberlain, whilst having an attack of nerves, couldn’t fix the Sword of State his Majesty completed the task at hand. Next, a chaplain fainted and finally completing a hat trick the Archbishop of Canterbury put the crown on back to front.

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.

Welsh rarebit (25.05.12)

It is a cut-through we cabbies use when wishing to turn into Euston Road from Tottenham Court Road, by turning down Warren Street we miss the traffic and join the bus lane at Great Portland Street which also has the added advantage if you time it correctly of enabling you to collect your evening newspaper without the inconvenience of having to stop as the friendly vendor standing on the corner presses the paper into your hand. I have used this cut-through numerous times and have always admired this little corner shop with its blue tiles hardly realising how important the shop was at the time.

Before we had supermarkets which now supply all our provisions, we were served quite adequately by door deliveries and one of the last to survive is the milkman.

From about 1860 onward, as a result of hard times in Wales, many Welshmen, especially from Cardiganshire set up dairy businesses in London.

Keeping cows on the premises in the middle of London, many if these dairies were set up in close proximity to the Marylebone/Euston Road which leads directly from Paddington Station, the mainline terminus of the Great Western which serves South Wales (in fact until very recently all early morning trains were still called ‘milk trains’).

In King’s Cross Road, there is a faded sign of a company that supplied all the paraphernalia needed to produce milk products.

London is home to the oldest and largest Welsh community outside Wales. The middle of the 19th century saw an exodus of Welsh dairymen to London with many setting themselves up as dairies. By 1900 it is estimated half of all Dairies in the Capital were Welsh.

Even by 1950, there were still over 700 Welsh dairies in the City. The last survivor in Clerkenwell is believed to have closed as recently as 2001.

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.

Code of Conduct (22.05.12)

The first Highway Code was published in 1931 and as it was just 18 pages long the publication only cost 1d, on its first page the Ministry of Transport stated that its primary aim was to promote:

‘good manners for all courteous and considerate persons’

In my world when drivers are meaner and ruder re-examining this little antiquated gem of a book shows one how driving standards have declined.

Its first piece of advice stated:

‘As a responsible citizen, you have a duty to the community not to endanger or impede others in their lawful use of the King’s Highway.’

In London nowadays every BMW driver before starting his car should be required by law to recite this piece of sage advice found between its covers:

‘Never take a risk in the hope or expectation that everyone else will do what is necessary to avoid the consequences of your rashness.’

The latest habit of sounding your horn when traffic lights are changing is more akin to Beirut than genteel London town and The Men from The Ministry must have anticipated this trend when they gave this recommendation:

‘Remember that your horn is intended to be used as a warning and an indication, if needed, of your presence on the road’

Stating sternly:

‘It should not be used as a threat . . . [motor horns] should never be used to show annoyance or impatience.’

Sometimes I feel that I’m a roaming tourist information centre, so often am I asked for directions. But could it be they are just taking the advice given in The Highway Code:

‘Do not pull up alongside a constable on point duty in order to ask him a question which other people could answer. His full attention is required for his duties.’

Even Boris Bikes have been anticipated, the pamphlet opined:

‘Do not wobble about the road but ride as steadily as possible . . .

If you fall, you may be run over.’

Or the rather patronising:

‘Beware of high winds when on your bike, especially when wearing a cape.’

As for rickshaws:

‘You must not ride furiously so as to endanger life or limb.’

This Penny Dreadful seems to have achieved its purpose. When it was introduced in response to the high number of deaths on Britain’s roads, 7,000 a year were being killed despite there only being 2.3 million vehicles – a figure not helped by there being no compulsory driving test. Today with more than 30 million vehicles on Britain’s roads fatalities are closer to 2,000.

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.

The cabbies’ nemesis? (18.05.12)

According to a London Chamber of Commerce report around 3.2 million people take taxis and minicabs in London each week, even if each fare averages only £10, that means total annual revenues are in excess of £1.6bn, with a windfall to come with the Olympics in a little over two months’ time. Where should a Londoner’s cab-riding loyalties lie – with Black Cabs or private hire including Addison Lee?

Well as any service industry, it should be with one that provides the service you require at a price you are willing to pay, and in this John Griffin Addison Lee’s Chairman has a good business model.

By taking on low-skilled drivers, with many who are recent arrivals to our shores, and providing a complete package: vehicle, uniform, SatNavs, vehicle cleaning and phone, he has no shortage of takers. But many find working the long hours needed to make a decent living too much and leave after the first year.

Their enthusiasm sometimes stems from the novelty of having a job. A lady once told me of an African Addison Lee driver carrying her suitcase full of books up six flights of stairs balanced on his head.

Griffin has form when encouraging his gullible drivers to break the law. He declared that they should drive up the M4 bus lane. As traffic enforcement on motorways is the responsibility of the police, quite naturally they had more important things to do than catch Griffin’s miscreants. Eventually, the bus lane was scrapped and Addison Lee got their way.

The same seems to apply to Paddington Station’s new entrance. The signage clearly states no vehicles except taxis – and yes you’ve guessed it – Addison Lee seems to be exempt while all other private hire vehicles are excluded.

As a London Black Cab driver of over 15 years, I’ve seen our customer base diminish year on year.

When our only competition was a rusty Datsun with an aerial affixed to the roof by means of a magnet, Black Cab drivers would frequently decline jobs. “It’s not on my way home”, “I’m not going South of The River”, “Sorry Luv, I’m not going there”, “That suitcase looks heavy”. The excuses were endless.

It’s hardly surprising then that London Cab usage has declined when some of my colleagues felt their wishes came before their customer’s reasonable requests.

The younger London cabbies are more professional, with newer vehicles on the road and with a plethora of apps available from established radio circuits as well as independent developers we are starting to take back work.

You might not want John Griffin to run TfL but it has taken a maverick like him to shake the cab trade out of its complacency.

Where should a Londoner’s cab-riding loyalties lie? I would suggest dear punter that it’s you who is in the driving seat and not the other way round.