Tag Archives: London’s curios

A compact shelter

The cabmens’ shelters [‘Bell and Horns’ on left] provided a welcome place for refreshment and rest in their long working day. Of the 47 originally built many have
been lost through bombing or neglect.

[L]EAVING ONLY THIRTEEN, all of them are now listed buildings, they are worth searching out, because of their appearance.

A cross between a cricket pavilion and a large garden shed, its quaint shape serves to underscore the truth that the cab trade is so ancient that it pre-existed the modern city.

A new shelter?

But then Ginny sent me this intriguing email:

The other week, we went for a walk and walked into Westminster Abbey Precincts – Dean’s Yard. Lo and behold on the south-west corner stood a green cab shelter. What was it doing there? On closer inspection, it was brand new, an excellent copy of the Victorian hansom cab shelters we see scattered in London. Its purpose? Well, I leave it to you to find out more!

A pseudo shelter in of all places Dean’s Yard? The appearance of a new ’shelter’ seemed so unusual that I had to find out.

First I contacted Westminster Abbey’s press office for information, receiving no reply Ginny gave me a hint as to its purpose in an article she had found which had appeared on the Guardian’s website:

The bin challenge – or “what to do with a hideous waste compactor” – is being addressed with a delightfully surreal pavilion in the form of a green timber cabman’s shelter in Dean’s Yard.”

The last time a shelter was located in the vicinity of Westminster was one erected in Old Palace Yard paid for by members of both Houses of Parliament, presumably to ensure the politicians would never have to wait for a cab to get them home after a hard day debating in the Chamber.

That one has long since been lost.

IMG_1288

Venturing into Dean’s Yard I received some curious glances as I photographed what looks like a large green garden shed in the shadow of the Abbey.

This was different

There are differences, however, from the standard cabmen’s shelter, being slightly larger it doesn’t conform to the proviso laid down by the Metropolitan Police that, as shelters were situated on the public highway, they could be no larger than a horse and cart. The bar encompassing the ’shelter’ with which to tether your horse is missing, likewise the ornate chimney stack, but much else is identical.

Which begs the question: Was the Abbey’s press office unable to give me details of their waste compactor through lack of information, or are they afraid of being accused of copyright infringement?

A version of this post was published by CabbieBlog on 29th October 2014

I’m the Only Running Footman PH

London still has many pubs left that are worthy of a visit. Most have the usual generic names: Red Lion, Royal Oak, Builder’s Arms or King’s Head.

But one to be found in Mayfair has what must be a unique sign above its door – The Only Running Footman.

For this Guest Post Alex Murray writes about this pub’s fascinating history.

Following in the Footsteps of The Only Running Footman

[L]ondon’s been the place for high society for many centuries and its colourful past, and indeed present, continue to play a key role in British history. However, it’s sometimes interesting to follow the course of history through a career of a certain period – in this case following in the footsteps of a London footman!

A Step Back In Time

[B]ack in the 17th century, the carriages of wealthier classes were largely the private equivalent of the black cabs seen nowadays. Although there was less vehicle congestion, London’s narrow streets weren’t conducive to easy passage for carriages. Besides being narrow, they were packed with pedestrians, barrows, carts and animals, whilst the ancient equivalent of the congestion charge – tolls – were frequent along London’s main roads and bridges. This meant that carriage journeys managed by just the carriage driver could be fraught with obstacles. So, most households also employed footmen, whose job involved running before the carriage, clearing a route, carrying lanterns after dark and paying tolls, facilitating an easy, direct journey for the carriage itself.

The Look of Livery

[A]lthough a servile role, being a footman was a prestigious job. The average wage was about £7, although overall ‘vails’ (the early equivalent of tips and perks) generally brought the role up to about £40 a year (around 1750). With the modern equivalent salary being around £60,000, it’s easy to see why a young man of a humble background might be keen to join a household as a footman, especially as accommodation was also included.

An extremely dapper, free uniform was also a major attraction, as the role also offered full livery, usually comprising of white stockings and crisp white shirts. To look the part, the man would be expected to be handsome, physically fit and at least 6 feet tall. Despite the poor hygiene and health issues in the 16th and 17th centuries, a surprising number of young men easily attained the required height and fitness.

One Foot in Two Doors

[A] footman was often considered to be the eyes and ears of the ‘downstairs’ world because his role involved a significant amount of mingling with ‘upstairs’. Although after the Great Fire of London [1666] the congested streets of London were clearer and carriages were able to dominate the streets without the need of footmen, footmen did not become redundant. Many households simply redeployed them, using their footmen as escorts to the carriage as well as to run errands, messages and letters, both official and more personal.

With a role in delivering ‘discrete’ communications and accompanying their wealthy employers on their own visits and activities, opportunities to glean gossip and identify indiscretions were plentiful and a footman could command high regard from his employers and colleagues because of what he knew and his levels of discretion about it! Unfortunately, because of this, footmen also gained a reputation for ‘cockiness’, based on their self-assumed superiority to other servants!

With their role in escorting gentlewomen of London’s highest families, footmen were also believed to have quite a standing ‘above their station’ where the ladies were concerned. Although in theory they were not allowed to marry, many actually did and still more had regular girlfriends and romantic encounters, at all levels of society!

The Only Running Footman

[A]s dashing servants (in all contexts), footmen were popular London characters. Many aristocrats enjoyed ‘racing’ their footmen against those from other households, placing hefty bets on their own man, who of course had to be up to the job; a genteel sport noted several times in Samuel Pepys diary throughout the 1660s.

Significant footsteps of the footmen’s historic role can be retraced through the pub and restaurant ‘The Only Running Footman’ in Mayfair. Originally the Running Horse hostelry, popular with local Mayfair footmen, the pub was bought in 1749 by an ex-footman and renamed ‘I Am The Only Running Footman’. It’s thought the host’s aim was to offer a hostelry dedicated to the earlier footman role, as by then the footmen’s original running role had developed into that very different man-servant role.

Despite this, footmen still wielded considerable power to earn their extra vails through their presence ‘upstairs’. On visiting England back in 1725, notable Swiss scientist Nicolas Theodore de Saussure noted his impression of footmen in his journal:

If you take a meal with a person of rank you must give every one of the five or six footmen a coin on leaving. They will be ranged in a file in the hall, and the least you can give them is a shilling each, and should you fail to do this you will be treated insolently the next time.

The Nightingale Sang . . . and a Footman Ran . . . in Berkeley Square

[T]he Only Running Footman is in Charles Street, just beside Berkeley Street and the famous Berkeley Square. This Mayfair area remains a prestigious London address and has an established history of accommodating high ranking families from British aristocracy. So it makes delightfully ironic sense that the running footmen from these prominent addresses would historically have been striding between these areas (and later the pub) gaining their vails and gossip, before sharing them, along with their tales and intrigues of the society of their time, in their very own hostelry which can still be visited today.

Another tale of running footmen can be found at Mayfair’s leering peer.

A version of this post was published by CabbieBlog on 11th April 2014

Daylight robbery

Pity the poor double glazing salesman who tries to convince the owners of Bloomsbury House to install windows in the bricked in recesses of their house. They are the result of tax-dodging the precursor to today’s Council Tax and in so doing have made a lasting mark on London’s architecture.

It is 1696 and King William III has squandered money fighting in Ireland and Europe.

[A]t the time it was thought, quite reasonably, inappropriate for the State to interfere in the private matter of one’s earnings – hence no income tax.

The imposition of a property tax was blamed on the practice of clipping coins, but the outcome was the same, it was just a sneaky way to raise revenue.

Every house with more than 6 windows had to pay a flat rate of 2/- a year [equivalent to £12.11 at today’s prices], those with 10-20 windows 4/- [£24.22] and mansions with above 21 windows 8/- [£48.44].

Overnight a cottage industry bricking up additional windows over 9 developed. Even houses which were built after the imposition of the window tax were constructed with blocked up windows come the day the tax was repealed. Here at Bloomsbury House its owner had builders install 18 windows but then block up 9 of them (to the side of Southampton Place). This was just enough to avoid the tax, but left available the option of glazing them should the tax regime change. Or could he have foreseen that Southampton Place in modern times would become a busy one-way thoroughfare.

With builders busy blocking up windows King William changed the Act to include a charge on just 7 windows, it’s about this time the term daylight robbery is thought to have been coined.

The tax lasted for 150 years until 1851 when it was conveniently abolished just in time for the erection of a building made entirely of wind

A compact shelter

The cabmens’ shelters [‘Bell and Horns’ on left] provided a welcome place for refreshment and rest in their long working day. Of the 47 originally built many have
been lost through bombing or neglect
leaving only thirteen, all of them are now listed buildings.

Only a dozen or so of these green gems remain. They’re worth searching out, because their appearance.

[A] cross between a cricket pavilion and a large garden shed, its quaint shape serves to underscore the truth that the cab trade is so ancient that it pre-existed the modern city.

But then Ginny sent me this intriguing email:

The other week, we went for a walk and walked into Westminster Abbey Precincts – Dean’s Yard. Lo and behold on the south west corner stood a green cab shelter. What was it doing there? On closer inspection, it was brand new, excellent copy of the Victorian hansom cab shelters we see scattered in London. Its purpose? Well, I leave it to you to find out more!

A pseudo shelter in of all places Dean’s Yard? The appearance of a new ’shelter’ seemed so unusual that I had to find out.

First I contacted Westminster Abbey’s press office for information, receiving no reply Ginny gave me a hint as to its purpose in an article she had found which had appeared on the Guardian’s website:

The bin challenge – or “what to do with a hideous waste compactor” – is being addressed with a delightfully surreal pavilion in the form of a green timber cabman’s shelter in Dean’s Yard.”

The last time a shelter was located in the vicinity of Westminster was one erected in Old Palace Yard paid for by members of both Houses of Parliament, presumably to ensure the politicians would never have to wait for a cab to get them home after a hard day debating in the Chamber.

That one has long since been lost.

IMG_1288

Venturing into Dean’s Yard I received some curious glances as I photographed what looks like a large green garden shed in the shadow of the Abbey.

There are differences however, from the standard cabmens’ shelter, being slightly larger it doesn’t conform to the proviso laid down by the Metropolitan Police that, as shelters were situated on the public highway, they could be no larger than a horse and cart. The bar encompassing the ’shelter’ with which to tether your horse is missing, likewise the ornate chimney stack, but much else is identical.

Which begs the question: Was the Abbey’s press office unable to give me details of their waste compactor through lack of information, or are they afraid of being accused of copyright infringement?

I’m the Only Running Footman

London still has many pubs left that are worthy of a visit. Most have the usual generic names: Red Lion, Royal Oak, Builder’s Arms or King’s Head.

But one to be found in Mayfair has what must be a unique sign above its door – The Only Running Footman.

For this Guest Post Alex Murray writes about this pub’s fascinating history.

Following in the Footsteps of The Only Running Footman
[L]ondon’s been the place for high society for many centuries and its colourful past, and indeed present, continue to play a key role in British history. However, it’s sometimes interesting to follow the course of history through a career of a certain period – in this case following in the footsteps of a London footman!

A Step Back In Time
[B]ack in the 17th century, the carriages of wealthier classes were largely the private equivalent of the black cabs seen nowadays. Although there was less vehicle congestion, London’s narrow streets weren’t conducive to easy passage for carriages. Besides being narrow, they were packed with pedestrians, barrows, carts and animals, whilst the ancient equivalent of the congestion charge – tolls – were frequent along London’s main roads and bridges. This meant that carriage journeys managed by just the carriage driver could be fraught with obstacles. So, most households also employed footmen, whose job involved running before the carriage, clearing a route, carrying lanterns after dark and paying tolls, facilitating an easy, direct journey for the carriage itself.

The Look of Livery
[A]lthough a servile role, being a footman was a prestigious job. The average wage was about £7, although overall ‘vails’ (the early equivalent of tips and perks) generally brought the role up to about £40 a year (around 1750). With the modern equivalent salary being around £60,000, it’s easy to see why a young man of a humble background might be keen to join a household as a footman, especially as accommodation was also included.

An extremely dapper, free uniform was also a major attraction, as the role also offered full livery, usually comprising of white stockings and crisp white shirts. To look the part, the man would be expected to be handsome, physically fit and at least 6 feet tall. Despite the poor hygiene and health issues in the 16th and 17th centuries, a surprising number of young men easily attained the required height and fitness.

One Foot in Two Doors
[A] footman was often considered to be the eyes and ears of the ‘downstairs’ world because his role involved a significant amount of mingling with ‘upstairs’. Although after the Great Fire of London [1666] the congested streets of London were clearer and carriages were able to dominate the streets without the need of footmen, footmen did not become redundant. Many households simply redeployed them, using their footmen as escorts to the carriage as well as to run errands, messages and letters, both official and more personal.

With a role in delivering ‘discrete’ communications and accompanying their wealthy employers on their own visits and activities, opportunities to glean gossip and identify indiscretions were plentiful and a footman could command high regard from his employers and colleagues because of what he knew and his levels of discretion about it! Unfortunately, because of this, footmen also gained a reputation for ‘cockiness’, based on their self-assumed superiority to other servants!

With their role in escorting gentlewomen of London’s highest families, footmen were also believed to have quite a standing ‘above their station’ where the ladies were concerned. Although in theory they were not allowed to marry, many actually did and still more had regular girlfriends and romantic encounters, at all levels of society!

The Only Running Footman
[A]s dashing servants (in all contexts), footmen were popular London characters. Many aristocrats enjoyed ‘racing’ their footmen against those from other households, placing hefty bets on their own man, who of course had to be up to the job; a genteel sport noted several times in Samuel Pepys diary throughout the 1660s.

Significant footsteps of the footmen’s historic role can be retraced through the pub and restaurant ‘The Only Running Footman’ in Mayfair. Originally the Running Horse hostelry, popular with local Mayfair footmen, the pub was bought in 1749 by an ex-footman and renamed ‘I Am The Only Running Footman’. It’s thought the host’s aim was to offer a hostelry dedicated to the earlier footman role, as by then the footmen’s original running role had developed into that very different man-servant role.

Despite this, footmen still wielded considerable power to earn their extra vails through their presence ‘upstairs’. On visiting England back in 1725, notable Swiss scientist Nicolas Theodore de Saussure noted his impression of footmen in his journal:

If you take a meal with a person of rank you must give every one of the five or six footmen a coin on leaving. They will be ranged in a file in the hall, and the least you can give them is a shilling each, and should you fail to do this you will be treated insolently the next time.

The Nightingale Sang . . . and a Footman Ran . . . in Berkeley Square
[T]he Only Running Footman is in Charles Street, just beside Berkeley Street and the famous Berkeley Square. This Mayfair area remains a prestigious London address and has an established history of accommodating high ranking families from British aristocracy. So it makes delightfully ironic sense that the running footmen from these prominent addresses would historically have been striding between these areas (and later the pub) gaining their vails and gossip, before sharing them, along with their tales and intrigues of the society of their time, in their very own hostelry which can still be visited today.

Another tale of running footmen can be found at Mayfair’s leering peer.