In 2017 I had the privilege of participating in ‘Sherbet Dab‘; a project in which London schoolchildren conducted interviews with cabbies and created a film charting the history of the London taxi trade.
The same team have now created ‘Brass Tally Men‘ which examines the work and culture of London’s dock workers between the 1930s and 70s.
To hear the interviews and watch the films, please click here.
Tucked away between Southwark Bridge and Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre there sits this rather cramped looking bench:
Known as the ‘Ferryman’s Seat’, this cramped perch is essentially London’s earliest remaining example of what we’d now call a taxi rank…
Although the exact age of the seat is unknown, it’s most likely to have been established around the 12th or 13th century; a period when London was beginning to spread west (thanks to the consecration of Westminster Abbey in 1065) and south, where Southwark was gaining a reputation as a seedy but popular entertainment district (if you’d like to find out more about Southwark’s depravity during this era, please take a look at my previous post; Bishops, Bones and Birds…)
Despite this expansion, the city had just one river crossing- London Bridge, an inconvenient situation which remained until 1750 when Westminster Bridge was opened.
This bothersome set-up resulted in London Bridge becoming a notorious bottleneck, jammed with pedestrians, waggons and livestock, the sheer volume of which often resulted in crossing times of up to an hour.
As well as the excruciating journey times, there was also the multitude of mud, filth and manure to contend with… not to mention the contents of chamber pots which were lobbed out of the ramshackle houses lining the pontoon.
Taking all of this into account, it’s easy to see why traversing London Bridge was a rather unpopular task!
Those with a few pennies in their pocket therefore would often turn to the Thames Watermen…
The Watermen were the ancestors of London’s modern-day cabbies; ferrying fares back and forth across the Thames in small boats known as ‘wherries’.
Their convenient nature was summed up in 1667 by the diarist, Samuel Pepys who described a typical commute; “by coach to the Temple, and then for speed by water thence to Whitehall.”
Rather than acquiring a knowledge of streets and roads, these early service-providers were noted for their knowledge of the water, having a sound understanding of the dangerous currents and extreme tides which characterize the Thames.
The worn down bench which survives today would have been used by Watermen awaiting a fare on the shores of Southwark. Punters seeking passage across the Thames would approach the Watermen and shout for “oars!” just as people today call out “taxi!”
For many years, the Watermen had a reputation for being unscrupulous, often overcharging way over the expected price. In 1293 for example, it was recorded that one certain rouge, “did take from passengers unjust fares against their will.”
In 1514, Parliament stepped in to set and regulate fares- something which continues to this day with modern cabs.
Also like today, there were strict laws governing how many passengers each vehicle was permitted to hold (wherries being limited to three people at a time).
A further parallel with the present is that just like the cabbies of today, Watermen were required to wear a badge bearing their personal licence number.
A few decades later, in 1555, the Worshipful Company of Watermen and Lightermen was established to look after the interests of those who relied upon the Thames for a living (Lightermen worked in a similar role, although they conveyed goods rather than the public).
The company are still in existence today, their grand hall being located on St Mary at Hill.
Despite carrying out a job comparable to Venetian gondoliers, the Thames Water Men were far from graceful. The London Encyclopaedia describes them as being “a sturdy, rough breed with their own jargon and as quick with raillery and repartee as with their fists.”
Picking up from areas such as the lawless Southwark, with its taverns, brothels and bear-baiting pits (the alleyway upon which the Ferryman’s seat is located is actually called ‘Bear Gardens’ as a reference to this vicious spectacle), it’s no wonder that the Water Men had to toughen up.
Nowadays of course, London taxis have a Perspex screen to shield us cabbies from the rabble!
If you wish to see the historic seat for yourself, it can be found around the corner from Bankside’s, Real Greek restaurant. A map of its precise location is show below: