Cabmen's Lunch

It all started with a single, simple question: can you take us to a cabmen's shelter where we can get some lunch? I know what you are thinking: what on Earth is a cabmen's shelter? I'll start there.

And by "there" I mean the late 1800s, more precisely in the 1870s. And yes, that was before cabbies drove cars. Back then in London, cabbies drove carts powered by, well, a single horse. I'm sure there were far fewer cabbies on the road at that time than there are now but apparently, drivers spending time in pubs between fares was a particular problem in the city. And some folks wanted to remedy this.

Their solution? Build a series of miniature restaurants with a tiny kitchen and small seating area that would cater only to cab drivers. These buildings, sized to fit on the street in a spot typically occupied by a cab and horse, were erected all over London at a cost of about £200 each. The funding for each of what would eventually be 60 or so of these structures was provided by the Cabmen's Shelter Fund, a charity started by the Earl of Shaftesbury in 1874. The goal was to provide cabmen with "good and wholesome refreshments at moderate prices" while also keeping them off the drink and providing safer rides for the general public.

THAT is a cabmen's shelter.

Today, there are just 13 of these shelters in existence and they are all protected. To go sit inside one of these things and get a meal you have to be a London cabbie. No exceptions. After all, that is why the things were put there in the first place. But if you are willing to get some food to take away, some offer window service to the general public, including to tourists like me interested in London's history. My aim was to get some grub at one of these spots on this trip.

On our way to whatever cabmen's shelter our cabbie is taking us to.

So how do you find a cabmen's shelter? Well, I figured why not just hail a cab and ask the driver. Sure, there are lists available on various websites but in a rare departure from what sometimes for me are strictly scripted holiday agendas, I figured why not ask a cabbie and see where I ended up.

Maybe a word or two about London cabbies is in order. If I asked something vague like this of a cab driver in Washington or Arlington or anywhere else close to where I live, I would not expect good results. Heck, about 50% of the time when I hop into a cab in my adopted hometown I either have to (a) give turn-by-turn directions to my destination to my cabbie or (b) wait for the cabbie to punch the address into his (or her) GPS and then live with the results. Sometimes the routes we take under option (b) make no sense whatsoever. That wouldn't happen in London. That's because London cabbies have "The Knowledge".

The Knowledge is not some mutant power or some cheap parlor trick, it's a test that all London cabbies have to take before they are granted their license to drive a black cab. It's been called by some the most difficult test in the world. It requires London cabbies to know absolutely everything located within a six mile radius of Charing Cross. Doesn't sound too hard? That's 25,000 streets and everything on them. Every roundabout, every dead end, every housing estate, every hospital, every sports arena, every park, every monument, every pub. Everything. Think about how many pubs there are in London (there are a lot if you don't know). They need to know where they all are.

As it turned out, the cabman we flagged down had to think about our request. He admitted he'd never used a cabmen's shelter. So we waited outside the cab for what seemed like a couple of minutes but was probably actually just about 15 seconds or so until he knew where he was going to take us. We hopped in, fastened our seatbelts (have to be safe!) and we were off. He knew. He had The Knowledge.

We hailed our cab just a couple of blocks from the Bank of England. We ended up at the west corner of Russell Square, just about 2 miles away. It cost us £11.60, including a small tip for the cabbie. Totally worth it. Let's have some lunch.

We found ourselves outside a green (Dulux Buckingham Paradise 1 Green to be precise) wooden shed about 8 feet wide by 19 feet long with a small door in the middle portion of the long, non-traffic side and a serving window just to the right of the door. All the other cabmen's shelters in the city are similarly sized, although we didn't know that when we were deposited in Russell Square (we walked by a second the next day near the Embankment Tube station), but the exact configuration may differ a little.

Inside our cabmen's shelter was Jude Holmes (we found out her name later) and about the tiniest kitchen I have ever seen in any place I've ordered food from. We found Jude by stepping a couple of steps up to the serving window, not by walking through the door (we dare not do that!) reserved just for the cabbies. Two sandwiches, please, including a Cumberland sausage, bacon and egg big sub for me. And that would be with English bacon, not the inferior American stuff. Jude clarified our order along the way with a series of questions, each one ending the word "darling". Good stuff!

Efficiency. Sausages and bacon pre-cooked and just needing a bit of warming up. My egg is in the pan!

If you are looking for a gourmet haute cuisine experience, look elsewhere. But if you want some classic English energy food to keep you going through a long day of playing tourist (or driving a cab, I guess) step up and order some food at a cabmen's shelter. I unknowingly made a wise choice with my sandwich order because at least one part of it was freshly prepared. Given the potential volume of orders required to be filled by a single cook, some food items are precooked or microwaved. Can't really do either with an egg that comes with a runny yolk. 

I suppose there are some shelters which come with no seating area for non-cabbies. We got lucky with Jude's spot because she's got a couple of picnic tables outside (painted Dulux Buckingham Paradise 1 Green of course) for people not in the trade. 

My foot long (or is it 30 cm?) protein and carb sub was gone in maybe 10 minutes. Classic English sausage, rashers of bacon with a ton of meat and a fresh cooked egg on a buttered white bread roll. How can you get much more English than that in a sandwich without adding something messy like baked beans or Branston? No messing about with fancy good for you stuff like lettuce or tomato or anything resembling salad; just fuel to keep you going for the rest of the day. Maybe not wise as an everyday lunch but once a trip between pies and scotch eggs is OK. Or maybe traditional English food is just not that healthy after all.

Tucking in to a very English lunch sandwich.

Lest you think our cabbie that got us to our lunch spot represented all cabbies in London in his abstinence from these establishments, while we were sitting and eating our lunch, a black cab pulled up to a parking spot near our cabmen's shelter, the cabman got out of his car and headed straight through the green door for some lunch or maybe just a cup of tea. These things are legit used by cabmen to this day. They are a slice of London's history that is largely overlooked by most tourists. Hopefully this post inspires someone else to give one of these things a shot.

On our cab ride to lunch, I offered to our driver that he probably didn't get asked for a fare to a cabmen's shelter, since it took him a minute to think of where to go. His response: "Never. Ever." There's a first time for everything I guess. We left happy and full and ready for an afternoon spent underground at an old air-raid shelter near Clapham Common. We took the tube located across Russell Square but we could have hailed a cab I guess. And the driver wouldn't have needed any directions.

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How We Did It
You don't have to take a black cab to a cabmen's shelter but it seemed like the way to go to us. I mean what better way to be taken to somewhere like this than by one of the very people they were originally set up to serve. If you are interested in duplicating our experience, just flag down a cab and ask the driver the question I asked at the beginning of this post.

If you want to target a specific cabmen's shelter to visit or want to find one near where you might be doing other things, there's a list of all 13 remaining shelters on the Cabmen's Shelter Fund Wikipedia page. I have no idea if this list is correct or not but Wikipedia rarely steers me incorrectly and I don't think anyone's trying to Maurice Jarre people who are looking for lunch in London.

Interestingly, there's a note on the Wikipedia page that says the off limits parts of these shelters are open to the public during the annual Open House London event each September. I searched for "cabmen's shelter" on their 2018 website and found nothing but it might be worth checking out availability if you are in town on that weekend. Happy hunting! Say hi to Jude for me if you visit Russell Square.

For those of you wondering about the single sex nomenclature I've used...I'm using the term "cabmen's shelter" (rather than "cabperson's shelter") because that's what they are called. That's not to say there aren't cabwomen in London. Just that these shelters aren't called that.

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1066

I spent the first half of my childhood in England. Well, maybe two thirds is probably more accurate, from the time I was born until just after my 11th birthday when our family emigrated to the United States. From my six years in primary school in Castle Donnington and Ashby-de-la-Zouch, I know astonishingly little about English history. I guess I was focused on other things. Sure there were wars with France and Spain and a revolution led by Oliver Cromwell and some dude named Guy Fawkes who tried to blow up the Houses of Parliament once on the fifth of November and some kings and queens were involved in there somehow I think. Other than that, things are a little fuzzy.

But if there's one thing about history that every kid in English primary school understands, it's what happened in the year 1066. That would be the Battle of Hastings. Seriously, every child knows that and likely responds by rote mentally or actually when someone says 1066. What did it mean for the history of England? No idea. Where is Hastings, again? Also, no idea. What happened after the rule of William the Conqueror (who won the Battle)? Yep, no idea again. But when you say 1066, I say Battle of Hastings. I got that much down.

This year, it was time to get a little smarter.

When we decided to take our last trip of this year to England (with a couple of nights side trip to Cologne, that is), the first place I put on my agenda was Hastings. Four years ago, I knocked Stonehenge off my list. This year it was time to head to Hastings to learn about what happened in the year that the teachers of my youth were relentlessly driving into our heads. And the first lesson learned here was that the Battle of Hastings wasn't fought in Hastings at all, but in a spot which in 1066 had no name. They just called it the Battle of Hastings because that was the nearest settlement. Six miles away on the coast as it turns out. We would be going to the town of Battle instead. See? Already a little smarter.

As it turns out, there was some pretty wild Game of Thrones-type drama happening on the island of Great Britain in the middle of the eleventh century. In the year 1066, Edward the Confessor, who it seems had a pretty firm claim on the throne based on his 24 year reign, died with no heir. And apparently, having an island for your kingdom was pretty desirable. All eyes were on the Confessor's empty chair.

The first man up was Harold Godwinson, better known as Harold II, who actually did take possession of the throne somewhat lawfully it seems. Harold was apparently either voted into the position by fellow nobility as was custom back then or nominated specifically by Edward as his successor on his deathbed. Harold was crowned king at Westminster Abbey, likely on January 6, 1066, one day after Edward's death. How Harold got the throne really depends on what you choose to believe. There seems to be little definitive evidence either way and it probably doesn't matter at this point. For what it's worth (and it's probably not worth much), Harold was Edward's brother-in-law, meaning he was really in no way in the line of succession as we think about these things today.

Others had eyes on the prize. Namely, Harald Sigurdsson (or Harald Hadrada, as he was better known) and William the Conqueror, although I suppose he wasn't know as "the Conqueror" before he decided to take the English throne (sorry if that's a spoiler). 

Harald Hadrada's claim to the throne was, in my estimation, a bit of a stretch. Try to follow along. From the year 1016 to 1035, England was ruled by King Canute of Denmark. When Canute died, his two sons, Harold Harefoot and Harthacnut, succeeded him one after the other. When Harthacnut was on the throne, he allegedly made an agreement with Magnus the Good (who was King of Norway following Canute) that if either died then their lands belonged to the other. By coincidence, Harald Hadrada had inherited half of Magnus' kingdom after his death and decided that entitled him to England as well, which was conveniently king-less when he decided this to be the case.

View of the battlefield from the ruined Battle Abbey dormitory.

Then there was William, Duke of Normandy, who was sometimes called William the Bastard because, well...he was one, being the illegitimate son of Robert I, also Duke of Normandy, who was unmarried at the time of William's birth. Yes, there are bastards (or at least one) in this story. Told you it was Game of Thrones-esque.

William didn't much like being called a bastard and whether it was this that drove his mean temper and spirit or something else I don't suppose it's much known. But it seems that for sure he was a spiteful kid who was good in battle and at killing people. William's claim to the English throne stemmed from his blood relationship to the wife of King Canute (William was not a descendant but both he and Emma of Normandy had common ancestors) and an alleged promise from Harold Godwinson that he would support William as Edward's successor. To be fair to Harold here, (a) he was captured and being protected by William at the time of this supposed promise and was probably not in a position of strength and (b) promises and even blood succession was not how kings were crowned in England at that time.

No matter how valid or invalid the claims to the throne were by these three men, 1066 was shaping up to be a heck of a year in England and we were heading for a couple of full on fights with no real way to the end without just one man standing. It would all be over fairly quickly.

Two wooden figures, presumably English and Norman, fighting it out in Battle.

Harald Hadrada struck first, commanding an army which included Harold Godwinson's brother, Tostig. After an initial victory in the north of England at the Battle of Fulford, Harald and Tostig's forces were met on September 25 by Harold's army, which had marched north to stop the invaders. By the time Harold was done (and I know the Harold and Harald thing is confusing), both Hadrada and Tostig were dead at the Battle of Stamford Bridge. Problem solved, right?

Not so much. While Harold was away from the south of England, William had landed from France with his army of maybe 10,000 or so men (estimates are very debatable) and spent six weeks or so pillaging the coast of England from Hastings headed north. Harold raced south to engage and found the Normans at the present day town of Battle on October 14, although as I've already stated, there was no town there at the time. Let's get ready to rumble!

 This is not the first battle site I've visited in my life. I've been to a few open fields where conflicts have occurred in the United States and I usually can't make any sense out of what happened, no matter how detailed the diagrams of attacks and counterattacks and flanking by cavalries and whatever else happened at the site are diagrammed for me. It's usually difficult for me to envision opposing forces engaged in combat on what is typically an open landscape either dotted with trees or heavily forested.

There is no such ambiguity at the Battle of Hastings.

Let me see if I can sum up succinctly what happened here. 

Each side that day numbered about 7,000 or 8,000 men, or at least maybe we think they did. The English, the home side with Harold II fresh off a hard ride south, stood at the top of the hill and the Normans, the invaders with William the Bastard (and soon to be Conqueror) at the bottom. The English were on foot; the Normans had both infantry and cavalry. That's not to say the English didn't have horses, just that I guess they only used them for transportation and not in fighting. Since William wanted the top of the hill and the whole entire island, the onus was on him to attack or go away and try somewhere else. He chose the former.

The first attack was pretty much a stalemate until heavy losses were inflicted in one portion of the invading army's line causing the troops in that part of the army to retreat back down the hill. When William's army cracked, the English broke ranks and followed, thinking they had the Normans on the run. When that happened, William's cavalry closed in, surrounded the English who had been in pursuit and killed them all. The English closed ranks and the fighting resumed without either side seemingly gaining an advantage.

Then the Normans had an idea: they hadn't intended to retreat and break the English line the first time it happened; maybe if they faked it a second time, the same thing might happen. Sure enough, they tried it and it did and another portion of the English army was wiped out. Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me. From this, there was no recovery. Shortly after the second ranks-breaking, Harold was killed, either from an elite assassin squad sent in person or from an arrow (maybe to the eye). It's not clear but it seems pretty certain that once Harold fell, the end was in sight. William the Bastard became William the Conqueror and the country was his.

The ruined Battle Abbey. You can see just how steep the hill the Normans had to climb was.

All this history in on display today (along with the ruined Battle Abbey which we'll get to soon enough) under the stewardship of the English Heritage organization and it's just excellent. The entrance to the property is through the Abbey's gatehouse which was constructed in the 14th century. The first stop on the guided audio tour is the visitor center, which provides background on the history leading up to the conflict. It also has an exhibit which allows you to feel how heavy the arms and armor wielded by the troops likely were on that day. This last part is valuable.

The tour around the battlefield is simply awesome. All told, from the time we entered the property right at opening time, it took us about two and a half hours and we listened to every part of the audio tour and read every exhibit along the way. It seemed to me to be the perfect length to both keep our attention and not have us get too hungry (more on that later) while also covering the history in what seemed to be a very comprehensive fashion. Maybe because it's the logistics of the battle that day were so simple and the place where it happened was so small. 

The self-guided walking tour will take you from the top of the hill where the English stood, past many many sheep and about five or six wooden soldiers of uncertain (at least to me) allegiance down to the bottom where the Normans started their assault. The walk downhill is pleasant and easy; the walk uphill not so much, which I think is part of the point of making the entire walk. It's easy to imagine how difficult it would have been for the Normans to get up the hill with any sort of speed, especially considering the weight of their shields that we had felt in the visitor center. Your biggest challenge walking up the hill today will likely be the avoiding the sheep poop along the way (rather than a hail of arrows or something like that).

At the end of the day on October 14, the Battle of Hastings was over and the English had lost. And not just the battle, by the way, pretty much the entire war. Other than some pockets of resistance after William's coronation, there was only one real honest-to-God battle to be fought near London. He'd gone a long way to winning the entire island in a single day on a site that we walked while listening to the entire audio guide in just a bit more than two hours. I realize claiming that William's army had wiped out an entire nation on one day is hyperbole, but it's not far from the truth. In all likelihood, all the men who took the field that day for the English were killed and their houses and lines of succession died with them. Sure there were plenty of other surviving noblemen elsewhere in the country but the majority of the damage was done near Hastings in mid-October. One day for an entire kingdom is pretty good.

The town of Battle today, seen from the top of the Abbey's gatehouse. Try the Bull Inn for lunch.

Today, the town of Battle has grown up around the old battlefield (and hence the name). It started not because of the spot where William defeated Harold but because four years after 1066, William decided to build an Abbey on the site where Harold died to commemorate the victory. Whether the decision was brought about by William's need to glorify himself or by censure for the massacre from the Pope in Rome, I'm not sure history knows for sure. 

One thing we do know is that William ordered the Abbey built so the altar would be placed right where Harold was slain. The tour at the battlefield told us that the monks charged with building the Abbey and outbuildings preferred a different, more suitable spot and started there before William directed them to stop, tear down what they had built and move the altar to exactly where he said it should be. Seems pretty consistent with his reputation as William the Bastard who gets his way by any means necessary.

William held England for 21 years until his death in 1087. By the time his rule was over he had completely transformed the land ownership in the country, altered the language forever and changed the influence of the church. He also had broken traditional alliances with Scandinavia in favor of those with France, which makes total sense. On the landscape of England, he constructed forts and castles to allow the ruling Normans to retreat to in the event of attack, including the White Tower in the Tower of London which is still standing today. He built the country up by taxing landholders which he had installed in power, ensuring a steady revenue stream. He was the only ruler in western Europe at the time to levy taxes, I suppose operating on the old Roman model that was so successful for them.

The alleged spot where Harold fell, and former location of the altar at Battle Abbey.

Towards the end of his life, William ordered the creation of the Domesday Book, a comprehensive survey of the land ownership throughout the country including records of the value of each parcel and how many people were resident on each piece of land. Historians are unsure of William's motivation for ordering such a project but the product serves as a detailed historical record of the state of a nation from a time when precious few documents exist.

The current royal family in England is not directly descended from William the Conqueror. Indeed like most royal lines from that time, the process of transfer of rule from one monarch to another could not stand a few hundred years in peace, let alone an entire millennium (OK...956 years). Indeed, calling the almost ten centuries between the Battle of Hastings and today anything but messy would be foolish. But there seems to be no doubt that William's rule pointed the island of Britain in a fundamentally different direction that lasts today. It's also the last time a foreign army fought on English soil.

Of the eight days we spent in England in late August and early September of this year, this day was my favorite. I learned more than I did on any other day about an event that I knew about but didn't really know anything about when I was probably just seven years old. As I grow older, I feel more drawn to learn about the history of the land where I was born and spent half my youth. Hastings, or make that Battle, filled in one more piece of history for me. There's a ton more to go if I ever want to find out more, which will likely one day be the case.

All told, our trip round the battlefield and property took just about three hours, long enough to work up a thirst and a little rumbling in the belly that was fortunately satisfied by a pint of John Smith's and a lunchtime portion of fish and chips at the Bull Inn just up the main road from the old Abbey property. If you know me or have read my food posts on this blog in earnest, you'll know for me there's nothing as good as English food. 

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How We Did It 
We made our trip to Battle a day trip from London. Considering the proximity to the capital, it's a good solid six to eight hour day without rushing, which for me is a nice pace. Trains leave about twice an hour from London Bridge Station and take about 75 to 90 minutes to get you into Battle station. From there you can get a taxi into town or head west on foot for about a half a mile easy walk to the old battle site just at the bottom of the town's main street.

The site, dubbed the 1066 Battle of Hastings, Abbey and Battlefield by the English Heritage, is open at 10 am on days when it's open. We went in late summer when it appears the property is open daily. It is clearly not open on the same schedule year-round. Check the Prices & Opening Times on their website for current information. As of this writing, admission is £13.00 per person which may seem like a lot but it was worth every penny for me.

If you are looking for some grub, The Bull Inn is located halfway up High Street on the left and I can attest it serves some excellent lunch. Or at least I can vouch for the fish and chips, the beer and the atmosphere.

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