The end of the road for the rag-and-bone man

Real rag-and-bone men are a rare and dying breed in London. Their sons have traded in the horses and carts and now own junk shops, house clearance or scrap metal businesses. You do still see the odd totter, in Mitcham, Deptford, or around Shepherd's Bush, looking out-of-place in the heavy late 20th-century traffic.

Deptford, the legendary birthplace of the totter, boasts four such survivors: Grimsby, Tom Davies, Taffy and Corky.

The woman in the cafe on Brookmill Road tells me that they're an odd bunch, and don't say much, even to people they know. Corky's usually the friendliest. Corky goes out most days, and will roam for hours. Him and his black and white pony, Sarah, are known as far from home as Stockwell. The others are older, and aren't seen so regularly; it's a tough job, especially in bad weather.

She directs me down to the second-hand electrical goods shop, telling me its proprietor, the Major, would know where I could find Corky.

It's 8.30am and the Major's opening up, dragging cookers out onto the pavement. He tells me where Corky keeps Sarah, and says I should catch him about now. But he warns me that the totters are all as daft as brushes, especially Corky.

'I used to have to go out totting when I was a boy,' the Major tells me. 'My dad used to make me. I couldn't stand the cold and the wet, I was scared of the horse; and all that shouting made my throat hurt. I got a bell to ring instead, one of those big Victorian bells. It was so heavy it made my wrist hurt. I got out as soon as I could, and joined the Army. That's why I'm called The Major.'

The totters stop regularly at the Major's shop, sometimes in the hope of flogging him a crippled fridge or cooker. But changes in safety regulations mean that the Major can't lawfully sell on anything more than 20 years old because the wiring's all wrong. More often they've come to ask if he'll give them some old parts to make their load up for the scrap metal yard. There's very little money in it, but as the Major says, they don't know nothing else, so they just keep going.

Corky, for instance, he never went to school, so he can't read or write, according to the Major. He can't make more than a few quid a week, after he's paid for Sarah's stable and her hay, but he lives with his old mum still, hasn't got kids to support. The Major reckons he's happy as long as he's got enough for a couple of brown ales.

The stables are five minutes away from the Major's shop. When I arrive, there's a couple of men already there. John and Billy are getting breakfast ready for their horses. They tell me Corky's normally here by now, and his absence is a bit of a mystery until John remembers that Corky's mum is away on her holiday. 'He'll have done himself some damage with the brown ale last night,' John grins.

John and Billy tell me they too used to be totters, but they got out years ago. They've kept their horses on as a hobby. They remember when there were over 300 working horses in Deptford. There was practically a farrier on every street corner. These days you have to wait for the bloke from Sevenoaks to come up, and he charges the earth. Luckily for Corky, Sarah's light on her feet and only needs shoeing once every six weeks.

John says that the cost of stabling and feeding a horse has also risen dramatically. He holds 'those young birds' responsible - middle-class female adolescents who pay through the nose for the care of their beloved pets.

Billy's dad was a totter, and his grandad, and even his gran. Billy used to go out with her as a small boy, collecting cast-offs and bric-a-brac in a battered pram.

Billy's grandad collected actual bones and took them down to the soap factory on Giffen Street. He'd get pounds 2 for a hundredweight. Textiles would be handed over to the women to sort. Any decent clothes could be sold on to the market stall-holders. Clothes they couldn't get rid of and didn't want themselves went to the textile banks, to be sold on to the Third World countries by the ton.

The rags were sorted into wipers, white net, linen and wool. The wipers would go to the industries, for the manual workers to clean their hands on, much more economical than paper towels.

Corky turns up at about 10am, in a bit of a bad mood. He can't decide whether he can be bothered to harness Sarah up to the trolley and actually go out. 'It's a gamble,' he explains. 'I might go to the trouble and finish empty-handed. But then you never know what gem some daft bint might throw out.'

He tells me that some people round there have more money than sense. 'The stuff these yuppies throw away could make them a fortune at a car boot sale, but they can't be bothered. They love the idea of recycling though, and when they think of it, handing things on to the local rag-and-bone man really appeals. They love the horse and trolley lark, the bell ringing, the shouting. So every now and then you'll catch one of them in, and they'll bring out some electrical thing they think's broken, clean forgetting it runs on batteries. Even dafter than me, they are.

'But mostly they're out at work. It's only their cleaning ladies or their nannies that are in. They might come out for a bit of a flirt, or to let the kids have a look, but that's about it. And, of course, we're in competition with the charity shops.'

The only thing he can rely on is finding a bit of old metal on a skip, or left out on the pavement for him, to take down to the yard. He gets a lot more for non-ferrous metal. Car batteries are great because of all the lead in them.

Corky sets off - he might as well, there isn't much else to do. A couple of hours later he's down at the Major's shop, distinctly less loquacious. His trolley now contains an old-fashioned vacuum cleaner, a wheel hub, an electric fan heater and a pair of ancient, clanking roller-skates. Not a good morning. The Major doesn't want the vacuum cleaner or fan heater, but gives

Corky an old boiler, heavy enough

to fetch him a fiver down at the

scrap metal yard.

The foreman at the scrap metal yard tells me they pay pounds 25 a ton for the lowest grade scrap metal, going up to pounds 65 a ton for high grade - constructional steel and car engines. A totter might get pounds 10 to pounds 15 a load, unless he's been lucky enough to get some non-ferrous metal. Copper fetches pounds 1,000 a ton. 'On average, a totter won't make more than pounds 40 a week. We regard them as a bit of a novelty to be honest.'

He points out that under the new European legislation the totters should be complying with London Waste Regulation Authority rules, be licensed and get or give a receipt on every transaction of metal, five copies of which should be made. Of course, the totters wouldn't be able to handle that kind of paperwork. In most cases their lack of compliance doesn't really present a threat to the environment, but the foreman shudders when he sees a car battery bouncing around loose on a totter's trolley. The legislation requires that they go straight into a plastic container. You're meant to give the authorities three days' written notice before you transport a battery into a different borough or county.

Corky pockets his fiver and heads straight for the pub. He grabs his pint almost before it's quite pulled and stalks off without a word.

The barman shakes his head. 'No manners at all,' he mutters. 'That lot keep themselves to themselves, they don't like anyone to know their business. I reckon they fancy themselves as freemasons or something, guarding some amazing secret, but the secret is there isn't no secret. They're just crazy old totters who don't know when to call it a day.'

(Photograph omitted)

Suggested Topics
Have you tried new the Independent Digital Edition apps?
Life and Style
ebookNow available in paperback
ebookA delicious collection of 50 meaty main courses
Latest stories from i100
Have you tried new the Independent Digital Edition apps?
Independent Dating

By clicking 'Search' you
are agreeing to our
Terms of Use.


ES Rentals

    iJobs Job Widget
    iJobs General

    Recruitment Genius: Senior Environmental Adviser - Maternity Cover

    £37040 - £43600 per annum: Recruitment Genius: The UK's export credit agency a...

    Recruitment Genius: CBM & Lubrication Technician

    £25000 - £27500 per annum: Recruitment Genius: This company provides a compreh...

    Recruitment Genius: Care Worker - Residential Emergency Service

    £16800 - £19500 per annum: Recruitment Genius: Would you like to join an organ...

    Recruitment Genius: Senior Landscaper

    £25000 - £28000 per annum: Recruitment Genius: In the last five years this com...

    Day In a Page

    The long walk west: they fled war in Syria, only to get held up in Hungary – now hundreds of refugees have set off on foot for Austria

    They fled war in Syria...

    ...only to get stuck and sidetracked in Hungary
    From The Prisoner to Mad Men, elaborate title sequences are one of the keys to a great TV series

    Title sequences: From The Prisoner to Mad Men

    Elaborate title sequences are one of the keys to a great TV series. But why does the art form have such a chequered history?
    Giorgio Armani Beauty's fabric-inspired foundations: Get back to basics this autumn

    Giorgio Armani Beauty's foundations

    Sumptuous fabrics meet luscious cosmetics for this elegant look
    From stowaways to Operation Stack: Life in a transcontinental lorry cab

    Life from the inside of a trucker's cab

    From stowaways to Operation Stack, it's a challenging time to be a trucker heading to and from the Continent
    Kelis interview: The songwriter and sauce-maker on cooking for Pharrell and crying over potatoes

    Kelis interview

    The singer and sauce-maker on cooking for Pharrell
    Refugee crisis: David Cameron lowered the flag for the dead king of Saudi Arabia - will he do the same honour for little Aylan Kurdi?

    Cameron lowered the flag for the dead king of Saudi Arabia...

    But will he do the same honour for little Aylan Kurdi, asks Robert Fisk
    Our leaders lack courage in this refugee crisis. We are shamed by our European neighbours

    Our leaders lack courage in this refugee crisis. We are shamed by our European neighbours

    Humanity must be at the heart of politics, says Jeremy Corbyn
    Joe Biden's 'tease tour': Could the US Vice-President be testing the water for a presidential run?

    Joe Biden's 'tease tour'

    Could the US Vice-President be testing the water for a presidential run?
    Britain's 24-hour culture: With the 'leisured society' a distant dream we're working longer and less regular hours than ever

    Britain's 24-hour culture

    With the 'leisured society' a distant dream we're working longer and less regular hours than ever
    Diplomacy board game: Treachery is the way to win - which makes it just like the real thing

    The addictive nature of Diplomacy

    Bullying, betrayal, aggression – it may be just a board game, but the family that plays Diplomacy may never look at each other in the same way again
    Lady Chatterley's Lover: Racy underwear for fans of DH Lawrence's equally racy tome

    Fashion: Ooh, Lady Chatterley!

    Take inspiration from DH Lawrence's racy tome with equally racy underwear
    8 best children's clocks

    Tick-tock: 8 best children's clocks

    Whether you’re teaching them to tell the time or putting the finishing touches to a nursery, there’s a ticker for that
    Charlie Austin: Queens Park Rangers striker says ‘If the move is not right, I’m not going’

    Charlie Austin: ‘If the move is not right, I’m not going’

    After hitting 18 goals in the Premier League last season, the QPR striker was the great non-deal of transfer deadline day. But he says he'd preferred another shot at promotion
    Isis profits from destruction of antiquities by selling relics to dealers - and then blowing up the buildings they come from to conceal the evidence of looting

    How Isis profits from destruction of antiquities

    Robert Fisk on the terrorist group's manipulation of the market to increase the price of artefacts
    Labour leadership: Andy Burnham urges Jeremy Corbyn voters to think again in last-minute plea

    'If we lose touch we’ll end up with two decades of the Tories'

    In an exclusive interview, Andy Burnham urges Jeremy Corbyn voters to think again in last-minute plea