What a Pearly King taught me about Cockney rhyming slang and East London history

What a Pearly King taught me about Cockney rhyming slang and East London history asserted

Even though we were both speaking English, I could barely understand a word he was saying. uncertain

"The costermongers, wheeze used to fly-pitch, on this frog and toad," he said — at least I think, after listening to my tape several times again, none the wiser. asserted

We walked together through the East End, where the factories and docklands that Major grew up around during World War II have given way to glass skyscrapers. asserted

A vendor ran out into the street to slap him high-five. asserted

Tourists snapped photos. asserted

Major had turned up in bling: A black suit and flat cap, both festooned with sequins, sparkles and mother-of-pearl buttons. asserted

His title — Pearly King of Peckham — was spelled out in shimmering buttons across the back of his jacket. asserted

But his language — a mix of what he called "backspeak" and Cockney rhyming slang — was impossible for this hapless American visitor to understand. asserted

At one point in our video interview, I glanced at the camera and exclaimed, "We might need a translator here!" uncertain

Ten years later, I chuckle whenever I land at Heathrow Airport, where a portrait of Major covers an entire wall. asserted

But this summer, a former colleague alerted me to an item in the local press, which hit me harder than I expected: The Pearly King of Peckham died Aug. 1, aged 88. asserted

He was buried Sept. 14 in a cemetery not far from the Cockney Museum he founded. asserted

A horse-drawn cart carried his casket into a little chapel, whose walls shook with mourners singing raucous pub songs. asserted

One of the gardeners outside looked bewildered. asserted

At the gravesite, I approached the Major family, offered condolences, and hesitantly shared the story of my brief, confusing 2016 encounter with their loved one. asserted

A horde of pearly kings, queens, princes and princesses — four generations of Major's family, all in matching pearly suits — turned and looked at me, some through tears, then threw back their heads and laughed. "A real Cockney cheeky chappy!" his daughter Janet Major said, hugging me. Who are the pearly royals? In the 1870s, an orphaned street sweeper named Henry Croft began decorating his suit with mother-of-pearl buttons scavenged from the streets outside textile factories that used to dot London's East End. His pearly garb infused menial work with dignity — a royal air, even — and launched what would become a working-class East London institution: The pearly kings and queens. asserted

"These pearly suits are now cultural artifacts with fantastic designs, telling a profound story about London and Cockneys, what we call the non-posh Londoners," says Andy Green, co-founder of the Modern Cockney Festival, an annual celebration of diverse, working-class communities in London. asserted

Some of the so-called pearlies were street hawkers, market vendors or fly-pitchers — unlicensed traders. asserted

Others canvassed for charity. asserted

Many were immigrants, their slang peppered with words from Yiddish or Bengali. asserted

They became neighborhood fixtures, in mother-of-pearl finery. asserted

"You had what are called costermongers, which is a posh word for street hawkers, street sellers," Green says. asserted

"Imagine you're a newly arrived immigrant in the country. asserted

One of the first jobs you could possibly do might be to hustle, sell goods on the street." That's what George Major did. uncertain

Born in 1938 inside a military barracks in Peckham, southeast London, he was abandoned as a child, grew up in a workhouse, and found odd jobs in the local market as a teenager, his daughter Janet explains. asserted

"Dad eventually became one of the costermonger kings that used to run market stalls," she says. asserted

"It was not an easy childhood, but he followed the ideals of Henry Croft. asserted

That was before the welfare state, when you had to help your friends, your neighbors, your community." asserted

Janet Major describes the weekends of her childhood, with her father leading all seven of his children, walking door to door in matching pearly suits, asking for money for charity. asserted

Nowadays, a dwindling number of pearlies still canvass for charities like children's hospitals, women's shelters and veterans groups. asserted

They appear at summertime street festivals and march in parades. asserted

George Major later trained as a plumber and ran a plumbing supply shop, she says. asserted

The pearlies in pop culture Onscreen, the pearly kings inspired the streetwise, heart-of-gold chimney sweep character of Bert in Walt Disney's Mary Poppins film — played by Dick Van Dyke, an American who later owned up to what he called "the most atrocious Cockney accent in the history of cinema." asserted

The Major family and others believe George Major himself inspired another fictional character: Del Boy, the happy-go-lucky East London huckster in the long-running British sitcom Only Fools and Horses. asserted

He's a cheeky salesman, always scheming to get rich quick, with the catchphrase, "This time next year, we'll be millionaires!" asserted

At his funeral, Major's eulogy was riddled with Del Boy quotes. asserted

But like the TV protagonist, Major also broke the law. asserted

In 2012 he was sentenced to six months in prison, after pleading guilty to benefits fraud. asserted

He was released early. asserted