With absolutely no forward planning on my part, my mother gave birth to me in London, England, in 1941, where I spent the first happy years of my life. When I finished my education, I applied for a job as a tape room boy, in the newsroom of the "London Daily Mirror" one of the most popular daily newspapers in England. My father was already a Printer, and in those days the only way you could get into the printing industry was to have a close relative in one of the Printers’ Unions. As a tape room messenger, (at the age of sixteen) my job was to race around London without delay, to chase up breaking newsworthy stories and copy from contributors (from politicians to freelance hacks) plus features from a team of famous writers. As there was always a deadline to make before the presses were put to bed, speed was of the essence.
To this end, I was allowed to travel around London employing the fastest method of transport, whether it be the tube train or a London black cab. I was given a small expense account, enough to pay fares on buses or the Tube, and if I needed to use a Cab I would get the "Mirror" doormen to settle the fares. It was a very exciting life and I loved every minute of it.
The London Cab drivers were (in their own way) wonderful tour guides; what they didn't know about London just wasn't worth knowing. I would sit in the back of their Cabs whilst they would keep up an informative dialogue on every historical monument, building, or district we drove through.
To this end, I was allowed to travel around London employing the fastest method of transport, whether it be the tube train or a London black cab. I was given a small expense account, enough to pay fares on buses or the Tube, and if I needed to use a Cab I would get the "Mirror" doormen to settle the fares. It was a very exciting life and I loved every minute of it.
The London Cab drivers were (in their own way) wonderful tour guides; what they didn't know about London just wasn't worth knowing. I would sit in the back of their Cabs whilst they would keep up an informative dialogue on every historical monument, building, or district we drove through.
I soon fell in love with this wonderful city, a love affair that continues to this day. Almost every week, I would learn something extraordinary about this place and the people that have lived here through the centuries. I couldn't believe that here was I, a young boy, sipping a coffee in "Ye Old Cheshire Cheese" a favorite haunt of Dr S Johnson, and walking past the very house that (during the great fire) he was said to have buried his precious cheese in to protect it from the flames.
During my jaunts around London, I was constantly amazed by the unending historical sites and layer upon layer of this great towns' foundations: from the remains of Roman occupation, through the Iceni revolt led by Boudicca, the English Civil War, and two World Wars, over 2000 years of English History, a fascinating collage of bricks and mortar seeped in history.
"Look!" my cab driver guide would say, "this is one of the walls built by the Roman invaders. It would have run up to Aldgate, just one of the seven city gates they built: Aldgate; Bishopsgate; Cripplegate; Aldersgate; Newgate; Ludgate.” (Moorgate was not strictly an original, quite modern, having been built about 1415.) "Hey, look over the road! In that church are the mummified remains of a cat believed to have belonged to of one of London's most famous mayors: Dick Whittington."
During my jaunts around London, I was constantly amazed by the unending historical sites and layer upon layer of this great towns' foundations: from the remains of Roman occupation, through the Iceni revolt led by Boudicca, the English Civil War, and two World Wars, over 2000 years of English History, a fascinating collage of bricks and mortar seeped in history.
"Look!" my cab driver guide would say, "this is one of the walls built by the Roman invaders. It would have run up to Aldgate, just one of the seven city gates they built: Aldgate; Bishopsgate; Cripplegate; Aldersgate; Newgate; Ludgate.” (Moorgate was not strictly an original, quite modern, having been built about 1415.) "Hey, look over the road! In that church are the mummified remains of a cat believed to have belonged to of one of London's most famous mayors: Dick Whittington."
"See the clock opposite? The two giants that ring the bells on the hour are Gog and Magog, protectors of the City; legend has it that a princess, Landona (a close friend of the giants) was with child and gave birth to a baby boy, who was given the name Prince Cockney. He was born in Bow (within the sound of the bells?) and as the boy grew older he developed a twisting of his legs, and they started calling him ‘Knocknee’."
After a while, and a little laughter (although this story is perfectly true) the cabbie would continue: "This building is the banqueting Hall, King Charles I was beheaded just here." He would point to the middle of the road. "Must have caused a bit of a hold up," I would quip. "Well, of course, the buses never used to run along here in those days," he would retort.
"Just over Southwark Bridge, Samuel Pepys watched as the great fire swept through London.There was Bankside of course, the Globe theatre, the Bear baiting pit—a bit of local entertainment, in case you got fed up with the hanging up at the Borough; there was once even a Rat baiting pit (dogs would wait whilst dozens of rats were freed into the pit, and the onlookers would make wagers on the time taken for the dog to finish them all off)."
After a while, and a little laughter (although this story is perfectly true) the cabbie would continue: "This building is the banqueting Hall, King Charles I was beheaded just here." He would point to the middle of the road. "Must have caused a bit of a hold up," I would quip. "Well, of course, the buses never used to run along here in those days," he would retort.
"Just over Southwark Bridge, Samuel Pepys watched as the great fire swept through London.There was Bankside of course, the Globe theatre, the Bear baiting pit—a bit of local entertainment, in case you got fed up with the hanging up at the Borough; there was once even a Rat baiting pit (dogs would wait whilst dozens of rats were freed into the pit, and the onlookers would make wagers on the time taken for the dog to finish them all off)."
Navigating a series of narrow passages between Fleet Street and the Embankment, you will come upon a beautiful sand-coloured church in remarkable condition, (having survived for over 800 years). Stepping inside the Temple Church, you come face to face with nine grave effigies in full knights’ attire; these wonderful gentlemen are Knights Templar, included is the likeness of William Marshall a famous Knight. He made his early living jousting for riches, and he was also an accomplished swordsman. A legend in life, he died in 1219, a friend of King Henry II. The king in fact was so impressed with William and his fellow knights, he determined to become a Templar Knight himself, and he in fact joined the order just months before his death. A popular 21st century movie A Knight’s Tale was based on his early life. I have always been fascinated by the Knights Templar, and well remember the excitement of finding this wondrous place.
As many historical facts as you could wish to know, and all you had to say to your knowledgeable cabbie was, "What is that building over there called?" Then I would just sit back and enjoy.
As many historical facts as you could wish to know, and all you had to say to your knowledgeable cabbie was, "What is that building over there called?" Then I would just sit back and enjoy.
In 1791, James Boswell published a biography of his good friend Dr Samuel Johnson; Boswell lived in Edinburgh, but loved the excitement of London. He would make regular visits every year to visit his friend "Johnson". During one of these visits he asked his friend, "I love London but fear I would tire of it after a while!" Dr Johnson's reply has become as famous as the man himself. "If an intellectual man is tired of London, he is tired of life itself, for there is, in London, all that life can afford."
Probably the finest books about this wonderful City have been written by Peter Ackroyd, and I would recommend them most highly; I think he could give my cab drivers a run for their money!!
When I was courting as a young boy, my now wife and I would take long walks in the evenings through the city streets and along the river, and we would seldom meet a soul. The city was devoid of people at night, save for office cleaners and the like. It was a strange but comforting being a very small part of it all.
John Robertson
Probably the finest books about this wonderful City have been written by Peter Ackroyd, and I would recommend them most highly; I think he could give my cab drivers a run for their money!!
When I was courting as a young boy, my now wife and I would take long walks in the evenings through the city streets and along the river, and we would seldom meet a soul. The city was devoid of people at night, save for office cleaners and the like. It was a strange but comforting being a very small part of it all.
John Robertson
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