Greenwich Barbers
I was given a copy of Brewers Dictionary of London Phrase and Fable for Christmas, after seeing and not-very-subtly coveting it in Waterstones. It's a great book - one of those lovely 'dipper' volumes that you don't read from cover to cover but return to every so often for a new nugget of curious knowledge.
I didn't expect to find much about Greenwich that I hadn't heard of before in a book that was London-wide; but I hadn't come across the term "Greenwich Barber" before. Greenwich Geese, yes, Barbers, no.
According to the book, it's "an 18th and 19th Century slang term applied to the people who obtained and sold sand from the Greenwich sandpits." It would seem that it derived from the idea of their 'shaving' the sand away from the seams.
I confess the etymology of this feels a bit weird. I tried googling it and found very few references to the term among all the adverts for hairdressers in Connecticut. Most of the references I did find come from people referencing Brewers; Websters claims the original source to be the 1811 Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue. I have no doubt it actually was a phrase then, but how widespread it would have been, I have no idea.
If memory serves, the Greenwich sand pits focused around the Diamond Terrace area (I'm still waiting for my invite to one of those fabled cocktail parties in a back garden 'grotto' made from an old sandmine, hint, hint...) though I'm sure the splendid fellows at Subterranean Greenwich will be tacking the subject of sand mines soon.
The sand went to make Greenwich Glass - which, depending on which account you read, was very fine or absolutely awful. Since I have never seen a single example of Greenwich Glass, I have no opinion on the matter, but I did discover that the Duke of Buckingham, who was Charles I's favourite, was a bit of a science-buff (they called them 'chymists' in those days) and got into glass making. His nice-little-earner monopoly ran out when Oliver Cromwell came to power, but Buckingham managed to persuade the Lord Protector to ban foreign imports, which had much the same effect. The duke's glassworks in Vauxhall and Greenwich thrived.
The death-knell for Greenwich Glass sounded with the invention of lead crystal (or 'flint glass') in the 1670s by George Ravenscroft (not that I can find any link with today's Ravenscroft Glass company.) Suddenly no one wanted boring old normal glass any more, they wanted the funky new stuff made with lead oxide instead of potash, and Buckingham's Greenwich glassworks had to close (although he continued to make mirrors in Vauxhall.)
Perhaps from the point of view of Greenwich's health, the closure wasn't such a bad thing. Apparently glassmaking is a very nasty business - creating toxic black fumes and lots of pollution. In fact I'm surprised that it was allowed at all near a Royal palace - though I guess the smoke could have been a contributing factor to the royals moving out for good around that time...
Certainly Buckingham himself wasn't daft enough to live anywhere near either of his factories. He lived at York House, on the Strand, and although his son sold it off to developers in the 1670s, the main Water Gate entrance (designed by none other than Inigo Jones) survives. Thanks to Victorian engineering (the Embankment) it's now nowhere near any water - but if you fancy a little trip, take a right out of Embankment tube into Embankment Gardens. Just past the concert stage and deckchairs, the Water Gate still sits, somewhat stranded (no pun intended) but surrounded by some rather pretty flower beds...
Hmm. I appear to have waffled a bit this morning. That's what comes from dipping into a book of curious facts about London. Somehow, everything eventually connects.
I didn't expect to find much about Greenwich that I hadn't heard of before in a book that was London-wide; but I hadn't come across the term "Greenwich Barber" before. Greenwich Geese, yes, Barbers, no.
According to the book, it's "an 18th and 19th Century slang term applied to the people who obtained and sold sand from the Greenwich sandpits." It would seem that it derived from the idea of their 'shaving' the sand away from the seams.
I confess the etymology of this feels a bit weird. I tried googling it and found very few references to the term among all the adverts for hairdressers in Connecticut. Most of the references I did find come from people referencing Brewers; Websters claims the original source to be the 1811 Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue. I have no doubt it actually was a phrase then, but how widespread it would have been, I have no idea.
If memory serves, the Greenwich sand pits focused around the Diamond Terrace area (I'm still waiting for my invite to one of those fabled cocktail parties in a back garden 'grotto' made from an old sandmine, hint, hint...) though I'm sure the splendid fellows at Subterranean Greenwich will be tacking the subject of sand mines soon.
The sand went to make Greenwich Glass - which, depending on which account you read, was very fine or absolutely awful. Since I have never seen a single example of Greenwich Glass, I have no opinion on the matter, but I did discover that the Duke of Buckingham, who was Charles I's favourite, was a bit of a science-buff (they called them 'chymists' in those days) and got into glass making. His nice-little-earner monopoly ran out when Oliver Cromwell came to power, but Buckingham managed to persuade the Lord Protector to ban foreign imports, which had much the same effect. The duke's glassworks in Vauxhall and Greenwich thrived.
The death-knell for Greenwich Glass sounded with the invention of lead crystal (or 'flint glass') in the 1670s by George Ravenscroft (not that I can find any link with today's Ravenscroft Glass company.) Suddenly no one wanted boring old normal glass any more, they wanted the funky new stuff made with lead oxide instead of potash, and Buckingham's Greenwich glassworks had to close (although he continued to make mirrors in Vauxhall.)
Perhaps from the point of view of Greenwich's health, the closure wasn't such a bad thing. Apparently glassmaking is a very nasty business - creating toxic black fumes and lots of pollution. In fact I'm surprised that it was allowed at all near a Royal palace - though I guess the smoke could have been a contributing factor to the royals moving out for good around that time...
Certainly Buckingham himself wasn't daft enough to live anywhere near either of his factories. He lived at York House, on the Strand, and although his son sold it off to developers in the 1670s, the main Water Gate entrance (designed by none other than Inigo Jones) survives. Thanks to Victorian engineering (the Embankment) it's now nowhere near any water - but if you fancy a little trip, take a right out of Embankment tube into Embankment Gardens. Just past the concert stage and deckchairs, the Water Gate still sits, somewhat stranded (no pun intended) but surrounded by some rather pretty flower beds...
Hmm. I appear to have waffled a bit this morning. That's what comes from dipping into a book of curious facts about London. Somehow, everything eventually connects.
Labels: Books, Mostly-Accurate History
posted by The Greenwich Phantom at
08:34
9 Comments:
The Duke of Buckingham's gate in Savoy Gardens is one of my favourite oddities and I show it to all new friends to the city.
The Gate is now 164ft from where the river now passes and a little distance away on the new river wall, just by the Millennium Bridge, is a bust commemorating Sir Joseph Bazalgette who gave us our present sewer system which runs beneath what is now Victoria Embankment, alongside the Circle & District Line.
..the water gate, next to the world's best wine bar? (and most powerful hand-dryer)...ie, Gordon's.
Ah, Gordons! Where time has stood still, but not the prices! And customers revolt if there's ever talk of giving the place a lick of paint.
It's one of the only wine bars I know where you can get dripped-on, look relatively pretty in the candlelight, fall down the 8:1 gradient stairs AND have your bag stolen all in one evening!
Quite. Terribly easy to fall into, an absolute bugger to get out. I just love it for the total lack of any chrome or tinny shimmer.
Hi, I'm the guy who compiled Brewer's Dictionary of London Phrase & Fable and I'm really pleased you've been enjoying it. I'm sure you're right that 'Greenwich barber' was a rarely used term, so much so that I nearly didn't include it in the book. (I left out some similarly obscure terms; for example, talking of sand, 'St Giles's carpet', which was apparently 'an ironic colloquialism for a sprinkling of sand on the street' in the late 19th century.) But, seeing as the inclusion of 'Greenwich barber' led to your fascinating little digression on Greenwich glass and loosely related subjects, I'm glad I put it in!
Ah - Gordon's, the jewel of Villiers St. I always find it difficult to pass by without dropping in for a tumbler of sherry, but can never quite bring myself to actually eat there somehow........
Hey Russ - yes - I love the book. And what a fantastic job, compiling such a book. I am jealous indeed.
I've since discovered an even less etymologically sound word (and no, I don't mean 'etymological') - but that will have to wait until I've done a bit more research...
Hi Phantom, you're right, it was a great job, a true labour of love. I'll keep an eye out for your post on the result of your etymological research!
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