22 MARCH 2023. Following our (traditionally brief) AGM this evening, ANTHONY CROSS will give as this year’s President’s Address, ‘THE HORRIBLE AFFAIR: The Bomb in Greenwich Park, February 1894’.

The bomb that exploded in Greenwich Park in February 1894, killing the perpetrator, lies at the heart of Joseph Conrad’s novel ‘The Secret Agent’ (1907). Drawing on various contemporary sources, Anthony seeks to reveal the facts that Conrad later wove into fiction. In fact, the real bomber died without uttering a word of explanation as to his motive. Anthony will also explore some of the theories that might throw light on this mysterious incident.

The meeting is held at James Wolfe School, Royal Hill Campus, Greenwich SE10 8RZ. Doors open at 7.15. Our AGM will commence at 7.30; the talk starts at approximately 8.00, and concludes at 9.00pm. We welcome non-members, from whom we invite a donation of £3 for each meeting.

The venue is well served by public transport. Bus routes 177, 180, 199 and 386 run along Greenwich High Road (at the bottom of Royal Hill). Bus routes 129, 188 and 286 serve nearby Greenwich town centre, and Greenwich Mainline Railway Station and Greenwich DLR are a short walk away.

There is free car parking after 6.30pm in the Burney Street car park (behind Greenwich Picturehouse).

GREENWICH FESTIVAL 1977

GREENWICH TOWN CENTRE WALK By Barbara Ludlow

Introduction by Julian Watson

Barbara Ludlow (1929-2016), former President of our society, was a gifted social historian with a fascination for aspects and areas of Greenwich, like Greenwich Marsh (the Peninsula) and East Greenwich, which hadn’t attracted the interest of historians or visitors to the town. The town centre and its fringes including the West Greenwich marshes adjoining Deptford Creek, hadn’t featured in any Greenwich histories or guide books. The marshes remained undeveloped until the 19th century. This event during the Greenwich Festival of 1977, was and remains, unique. Barbara walked and researched the area then produced typed notes, which were photocopied for those who accompanied her on Friday 17^th June. I was with her on that memorable walk. There have been changes to the town centre and its back streets since the walk, but Barbara’s notes are a ‘snapshot’ of the area as it was in 1977. Barbara’s typescript has been converted to an editable format, and a few notes in square brackets added for clarity. We have also added illustrations. We intend to publish and print a revised and updated version of this walk. Many thanks to Anthony Cross, John Bold and Rob Powell for their contributions and advice. Rob Powell has produced this blog for our website.  We are most grateful to Peter Kent for the wonderful map, and to Museums Collections and Archives, Royal Greenwich Heritage Trust (RGHT) which holds the originals of many of the historic images that we have used.

Barbara Ludlow’s 1977 text begins here:

The district, which the walk covers, was once part of the town centre of Greenwich. Due to bombing, demolition for re-development and the removal of the seat of local government from West Greenwich to Woolwich, the majority of the streets we will tread are now ‘back-streets.’

Even the main roads are no longer the busy shopping and commercial areas they once were.

Greenwich is now known as a tourist centre rather than a bustling town.

However, a walk along the roads lying to the west of St Alfege’s Church is rewarding. The character of an old town can be savoured and happily many interesting buildings survive.

This is a route the tourist does not take. On leaving the vicinity of St. Alfege’s Church there are no grand buildings by Inigo Jones, Sir Christopher Wren and Sir John Vanbrugh to be seen but many of the buildings we will pass are all part of the fabric, which still makes the ‘back-streets’ of Greenwich so interesting.

After a brief slide show in St. Alfege’s Parochial Hall (originally The National School of Education and Industry for Girls, 1814) the walk starts in St Alfege Passage, called ‘Church Passage’ until 1938.

South side

St. Alfege’s Church. Designed by Nicholas Hawksmoor between 1711 and 1718. Tower added by John James 1730.

North side

Entrance to St.Alfege’s Recreation Ground. This small park was laid out towards the end of the 19th century in Greenwich Churchyard, which had been closed by 1869.

Nos.6-11 St.Alfege Passage: A terrace built between 1844 & 1851.

At the end of the passage turn left into Greenwich Church Street. Look across to the East Side.   

Entrance to Turnpin Lane (Inscription over entrance reads ‘Greenwich Market’).

This is a remnant of one of the older Greenwich streets, although rebuilt about 1830. Now mainly used by antique dealers, it once catered for household needs.

No. 10 [Greenwich Church St]. (Horatio’ s Restaurant). Frontage altered but one of the old shops of Greenwich. From about 1866 to about 1940 it was a pawnshop.

Nos. 12 and14 [Greenwich Church St]. Possibly mid-C18 fabric but with mid-C19 frontage.

No.16. Early C19. Nos.24-42. Built 1831 as part of Joseph Kay’s design for Greenwich Market.

In Greenwich Church Street to the north of College Approach (laid out in 1836 as Clarence Street) is the Gipsy Moth IV Public House. This was formerly the ‘Wheatsheaf’, described as ‘an old inn’ in 1925 as having ‘an antiquated rough-cast frontage, a swing signpost and old-fashioned outer lamp.’ Building much altered.

The Garden Stairs end of Greenwich Church Street has been completely changed this century. Old houses were demolished to make way for the entrance to the Greenwich Foot Tunnel, 1902 and, on the site of the famous ‘Ship Hotel,’ is the dry-docked Cutty Sark, brought to Greenwich in 1954.

West side (Route of walk):

No.3 (Corner of St.Alfege Passage and Greenwich Church Street). Early C18. From about 1795 to 1920 this building was the Eight Bells Public House.

No.5 Early C19. Site of the Court of Requests (Removed to Stockwell Street at the beginning of the 19th century). This old court was used for the recovery of debts not exceeding £5.

Nos.7 and 9. Early C19. This was the site of the medieval house of Thomas Hack, the ‘rich’ Greenwich Miser who died in the Parish Workhouse in 1813.

Nos.11-21. The oldest buildings in Greenwich Church Street. Very early C18 but nos. 11 and 13 possibly second half of the 17th century.

The Empire Cinema stood on the corner of Greenwich Church Street and Creek Road (formerly Bridge Street) from 1914 to about 1940. The cinema was at first entered through no. 27 Church Street but later the entrance was removed to No. 33.  The shape of the entrance and the outline of the cinema can still be seen.

Proceed left (same side) into Creek Road.

This road was made at the beginning of the 19th century to connect Greenwich to Lower Deptford. At the same time the first Creek Bridge was constructed.

North side

St Peters School [now St Alfege with St Peter Primary School]. Built in 1867. Edgar Wallace started school here when he was known as Dick Freeman. (Still a school)

[Edgar Wallace has been described as ‘one of the most prolific thriller writers of [the 20th century’]

South side

No. 302. Originally St Peters Infants School. Built 1867. (Now used commercially).

(These two buildings not on route of walk).

Turn in first left into Bardsley Lane (formerly Lamb Lane).

North side

(Boundary of the old churchyard)

No. 22 built c.1900 as the Office of Weights and Measures. Built for the London County Council.

No. 2O. Built c.1902. Coroners Court. (Now Fuller Hills)

[Fuller Hills Ltd was a joinery works]

Back of No. 20. 1904. Mortuary. Architect Alfred Roberts of Greenwich (also Fuller Hills).

N.B.

These three buildings are on land once occupied by the old St Alfege Vicarage and its garden.

The Old Mortuary. 1881. Entrance from churchyard. (Now Fuller Hills)

Towards the end of the lane was the Central Sunday School c.1852. (Also used by Fuller Hills).

This lane, not a pretty sight now, was once lined on the north side by small houses and cottages. It is named after the Rev. Martin Bardsley, Vicar of St.Alfege’s Church at the beginning of the 20th century.

Pause at the end of Bardsley Lane and look towards the River Thames and the Creek.

The modern Creek Bridge, 1954, can be seen. Deptford West Power Station: demolition taking place but almost complete. The famous Sebastian de Ferranti power station, built 1889, completely demolished. Deptford East Power Station left.

Factories such as The Phoenix Gas Works (later the South Metropolitan Gas Co.), The Thames Ironworks Shipbuilding Co. and the General Steam Navigation Co. were situated in this area.

Now turn left from Bardsley Lane into Haddo Street.

Keeping on the same side of the street continue past the Bell Public House (which marks the site of the entrance to Bell Street, now demolished) to Roan Street. On the corner is the Greycoat Boy Public House.

Turn left (same side):

No. 46.  Grey Coat School and School House. 1808. (The Roan Charity).

‘Mr John Roan, in the year 1643,left an estate in houses near the church here, of £95 per annum…for teaching 20 boys reading, writing and arithmetic… these wear greycoats’.

The School.

One floor only. Plaque removed from centre to side of building.

The School House. Externally not much alteration. Altered inside. Now Saxonia Electrical Wire Co.)

N.B. This was the second Greycoat School. The first building stood on the site of the Seamen’s Hospital garden.

Nos.44-36 Complete terrace. 1846.

Proceeding in the same direction, cross to the other side of Roan Street where it joins Churchfields. This small street was part of Straightsmouth. Inscription on the wall reads ‘Brunswick Place, Straightsmouth.’

No.2 (Corner) Early C19 Once a Marine Store Dealers shop. (In Spurgeon photo of 1885)

Nos.4-18 Early C19.

Walk along Churchfields to the junction of Randall Place and Straightsmouth. Cross the road to Straightsmouth.

The majority of the houses in Straightsmouth are C19 and because of the care taken in recent years this is an attractive street to walk down. Notice the ‘New Iron Room’ Gospel Hall at the entrance to Straightsmouth (Plymouth Brethren).

Cross the road to the north side and walk into Glaisher Street, named after Henry and James Glaisher (Balloonist). Glaisher Street exists in name only now but it leads to a ‘temporary’ Greater London Council open space which allows for a pause on the walk and a chance to see the backs of houses in Straightsmouth, a view of Greenwich Station and the back of the Williamson Memorial Hall (1865) in Randall Place.

STRAIGHTSMOUTH THEN AND NOW

[The Glaisher Street sign has now gone, as has the temporary open space. It is no longer possible to see the backs of houses, the station or the 1865 Memorial Hall in Randall Place from here. The latter is a mission house built in 1865 by the London City Mission.]

From Straightsmouth we proceed under the railway and so to Greenwich High Road.

Immediately on the right are the buildings which were once part of Lovibonds Brewery. John Lovibond built his brewery in Greenwich High Road in 1865.

[The tunnel under the railway has been relocated so the Lovibond buildings are now on the left]

No.169 Greenwich High Road.  Early c18 house, exterior re-modelled early C19. This area was once called ‘Blue Stile.’

No.141 Greenwich High Road. The original Greenwich Town Hall, built 1876 (for the Greenwich District Board of Works), now West Greenwich Community Centre. Not on route of walk.

Turn left into Greenwich High Road. Before walking to Greenwich Station look over the road to No. 136. Early C19 house. Now used by the Drapers Company.

Greenwich Station. First station built 1840. Architect George Smith of Blackheath.

The present station was built between 1876 and 1878 to replace the 1840 terminus. In the 1870s the line was extended to Maze Hill station so Greenwich station was moved back from Greenwich High Road, thus creating a forecourt. It is Italianate in style. In the forecourt is the Prince of Orange Public House. The building is C19 but there was a pub of this name on the site before the present building.

Opposite the station is Queen Elizabeths College, Founded by William Lambarde in 1576. The Tudor buildings were replaced by the present ones in 1817. The Chapel forms the centrepiece of the building.

Here Greenwich High Road has a junction with South Street, formerly Limekiln Lane. This junction is featured in Spurgeon’s photo entitled ‘Kentish Hay.’ The ornate lamp-post/drinking fountain has been replaced by a public lavatory.

South side

No. 144. Burdett House, a 3 storey Georgian building.

West Greenwich Library.

The second and now former Greenwich Town Hall, opened 1939. Designed by Culpin and Son. The tower is 165 feet high.

‘Morton’s Theatre’ stood on the western end of the town hall site.

North side

Nos.199-213. Called ‘Bexley Place’ after Lord Bexley. Early C19.

From here the appearance of Greenwich High Road has changed since  1939. The tramlines have gone and many of the buildings were bombed or demolished. Some new building (north side) has been completed but the south side of the road awaits development. This allows a view of Stockwell Street, the Greenwich Theatre (1969) and Burney Street. Amongst the many buildings demolished in this area were Greenwich Park Station, and The White Hart Public House, both on Stockwell Street.

The walk ends by crossing the road to the Mitre Public House, the last building in Greenwich High Road. In 1829 the old Mitre tavern was destroyed by fire and the present building was erected in 1831.

Published by The Greenwich and Lewisham Antiquarian Society.

In September 2018, fifty-five years after the final intake of men completed their National Service, Greenwich Historical Society hosted a very special and memorable evening of shared reminiscences.

Some of Greenwich’s boys of the old brigade gathered together to tell us their experiences of conscription. A contrasting view was presented by a conscientious objector.

It was a powerful, amusing, poignant evening that was curated and introduced by GHS President Anthony Cross. We published the transcript in our subsequent journal but, with the permission of those present, we make available the audio from evening so you can listen again or anew to a very special event.

Please be aware that this audio file does contain some swearing.

00:00 Intro
10:00 David Drummond
19:30 John Cox
33:38 Peter Kent
48:20 Adam Pollock
1:01:19 Ian Gordon

In January 1806, the body of Lord Nelson arrived at Greenwich. Over three extraordinary days – the 5th, 6th and 7th – the body lay in state within the upper chamber of the Painted Hall. Here are the reports from The Times newspaper of those three days.

Day 1

On Saturday the preparations having been completed at Greenwich Hospital, a few personages of high respectability and distinction were admitted, in the evening, to view the body of Lord NELSON lying in state; amongst whom were, her Royal Highness the Princess of Wales, and suite, who remained there several hours, in melancholy contemplation of this solemn and affecting scene: and yesterday morning, at eleven o’clock, the Great Hall was thrown open for the admission of the public.

Before eight in the morning, every avenue from the Metropolis to Greenwich was crowded with vehicles of every description till past eleven, exhibiting a scene of confusion beyond description; but the approach to Greenwich hospital Gate, a little before that hour, must baffle the conception of those who did not witness it. When the gate was thrown open, above ten thousand pressed forward for admittance.

After the passage of the outer gate, the entrance to the Great Hall was guarded by a party of the Greenwich and Deptford Volunteer Association, and parties of midshipmen and sailors armed with pikes. With such impetuosity did the crowd rush towards the entrance of the Great Hall, as to bear down all opposition, notwithstanding the guard used every means in their power to preserve order, and to prevent accidents.
The arrangements of the solemnity were as follows:-

In the funeral saloon, high above the corpse a canopy of black velvet was suspended, richly festooned with gold, and the festoons ornamented with the chelenk, or plume of triumph, presented to his Lordship by the GRAND SEIGNIOR, after the ever memorable victory of the Nile. It was also decorated with his Lordships coronet, and a view of the stern of the San Josef, the Spanish Admiral’s ship, already ‘quartered’ in his arms.

On the back field, beneath the canopy, was emblazoned an escutcheon of his Lordship’s arms; the helmet surmounted by a naval crown, and enriched with the trident and palm branch in saltier – motto; “Palman qui meruit ferat.” Also his Lordship’s shield, ornamented with silver stars appropriately interspersed; with the motto – “Tria juncta in uno;” and surmounting the whole upon a gold field, embraced by a golden wreath, was inscribed in sable characters, the word TRAFALGAR, commemorative of the proudest of his great achievements.

The Rev. Mr. SCOTT, the Chaplain of the Victory, and who in consequence of his Lordship’s last injunctions, attended his remains from the moment of his death, sat as chief mourner in an elbow chair at the head of the coffin.
At the foot of the coffin stood a pedestal, covered with black velvet, richly fringed with alternate black and yellow, and supporting a helmet surmounted by a naval crown, ornamented with the chelenk or triumphal plume, with models richly gilt, and his Lordship’s shield, gauntlet, and sword.

Ten mourners were placed three on each side of the chief, and one at each corner of the coffin, all in deep mourning, with black scarfs, their hair full powdered, in bags. These were appointed from the Office of the LORD CHAMBERLAIN, as usual on similar occasions.

Ten banners, elevated on staves, and emblazoned with various quarterings of his Lordship’s arms and heraldic dignities, each bearing it appropriate motto, were suspended towards the coffin, five on each side.

Parties of the Greenwich and Deptford Volunteers attended in the Great Hall, to preserve order and regulate the ingress and egress of the spectators.
A railing in form of a crescent, covered with black, inclosed the funereal saloon from the Great Hall, by the elipses of which, from right to left, the spectators approached and receded from this solemn spectacle, and from the foot of the stairs ascending from the Great Hall.

A partition of boards, six feet in height, covered with black cloth, extended to the entrance, and separated the two avenues. Both the Hall and Saloon were entirely surrounded at the top by rows of silver sconces, each with two wax lights, and between each two an escutcheon of his Lordship’s armorial dignities.

The immense numbers who pressed for admittance, and the earnestness of the officers in attendance to accommodate as many as possible, occasioned the successive parties, who were fortunate enough to obtain admission, to be pushed onward with such rapidity, as to afford none of them the opportunity of having more than a short and transient glance of the solemn object of their curiosity.

Perhaps, it is no exaggeration to add, that above twenty thousand persons were unable to gratify themselves. The doors were closed at four o’clock: they are to be opened again at eight this morning.

Day 2

Notwithstanding the immense number of people who visited Greenwich on Sunday, to pay their tribute of melancholy respect at the temporary shrine of the departed Hero, thousands of who were gratified by admission to the solemn spectacle, and many other thousands of whom went away unsatisfied, as finding an entrance wholly impracticable; still the concourse there yesterday was even greater than on Sunday; and from the first time of opening the side wickets of the great Western Gate, at nine in the morning, through each subsequent opening, until their close, at four in the afternoon, the rushing torrent of the multitude was so impetuous, that numbers experienced disasters similar to those which on Sunday were so numerous, and in many instances so severely unfortunate: many were crushed in a dreadful manner, in the competition for entrance through passages so narrow; others were beaten down by the impetuosity of those who rushed forward from behind, and were severely trampled – in many cases, almost to death.

Shoes, pattens, muffs, tippets, coat-sleeves, skirts of pelise and gowns, without number, were despoiled from their owners, and trampled in the mud; and though the guards were more numerous, more vigilant and peremptory, than on Sunday, still it was scarcely possible to check the impetuosity of the multitude, or prevent the entrances to the Great Hall from being carried by force.Within however, all was conducted with order.The Volunteers posted in the area of the elevated saloon, round the farther end of which the spectators passed to view the coffin, continued to urge onward the multitude at a quick pace; so that none could indulge more than a short and sorrowful glance at that mournful casket which contained, perhaps, the most brilliant of all the gems that ever decorated the naval crown of England.

The distinctions of rank were forgotten in the general avidity to pay the last melancholy honours to the hero’s remains; and though curiosity be the ruling passion of John Bull, it was, on this occasion, marked by feelings that do honour to his heart. The votaries of Saint Monday evinced they were no strangers to “the luxury of exalted woe,” and that they could participate in the sorrow and veneration manifested by their country for the great and justly honoured subject of general regret.Amongst the visitants of yesterday were numbers of high rank and fashion: her Grace of DEVONSHIRE; and many of her noble friends were in the throng. A vast number of Military Officers also attended to pay their last tribute of respect to departed heroism, and to contemplate the noblest stimulus to gallant deeds.

Day 3

Yesterday morning, at nine o’clock, the wickets of the great Western gate of Greenwich Hospital were thrown open, for the admission of spectators to the Great Hall and Funeral Saloon.The many serious accidents on Sunday and Monday, resulting from the want of better system and regulation outside the gates, suggested to the Governors the necessity of adopting some more effectual steps to prevent further mischief; they had, therefore, obtained from London a party of the Kings Life Guards, who were posted in different divisions at the west and South avenues, and rendered very essential service the whole day, in checking the eager impetuosity of the multitude in pressing for admission at the wickets, from which most of the former accidents had proceeded.

The wickets were, as before, opened at successive times, for the admission of fresh divisions of spectators, as the former had been gratified with a view of the solemnities; and though the pressure on those occasions was unavoidably rapid and violent, no serious accident, that we could learn, occurred.The steps leading up to the entrance of the Great Hall, was the principle scene of contest; and curiosity, the ruling passion of the fair sex, rising superior to all the suggestions of feminine timidity, many ladies pushed into the crowd, and were so severely squeezed, that several of them fainted away, and were carried off, apparently senseless, to the colonnade; we were, however, highly gratified to learn, that they were rather frightened than hurt, and that no injury occurred more serious than a degree of pressure not altogether so gentle as could be wished. In general, however, the result of better regulation was obvious; for, although the multitude was even more numerous than on the preceding days, and the attendance of fashionable personages much greater, order was much better kept, and tumultuous violence scarcely anywhere apparent.

Some trivial alterations had taken place in the solemn arrangements of the Funeral Saloon. The sable pall was cast from the coffin, which was fully exposed to view, and upon it was placed the cushion supporting the coronet, with two armorial shields, properly emblazoned. The six mourners, who before were seated at the head of the coffin to the right and left of the canopy, now took their places, three on each side of the coffin, outside the benches, whereon the tressels stood, and facing inwards; the effect was much more solemn and impressive.

This was the only thing novel in the interior arrangements; but a novelty, not without very considerable and forcible impression, occurred outside the Hall, which, as an appendage of the melancholy ceremonies, demands mention.A little before four o’clock, the brig Elizabeth and Mary, from off Chatham, hove in sight, from the Terrace, on the River, having on board a chosen band of Seamen and Marines from the brave crew of the Victory, who are intended to fall into the Funeral Procession.Of their old and gallant Commander. Lieutenant BROWN, their Commanding Officer came on shore, to take orders for their proceeding.

The St. George’s Jack. At the mast-head of the brig, was lowered half mast high, as a funeral salute, which was immediately returned by the colours of all the ships in sight from the Terrace.The Lieutenant Governor of Greenwich then proceeded to inform Lord Hood of the arrival of this brave band: when the gallant Admiral, accompanied by a party of the River Fencibles, armed with their pikes, proceeded to the North –gate, next the River; and ordered the Heroes of Trafalgar to be brought on shore. The brig then hauled up alongside the quay, and the brave tars jumped ashore amidst the warm greetings and grateful acclamations of the surrounding throng. Alas! How different the sensations of those gallant fellows from what they would have been, under the brave NELSON’S eye, in boarding the deck of an enemy.

They consisted of forty-six Seamen and fourteen Marines, each bearing his hammock; and if they were a fair specimen of their messmates in the Victory at Trafalgar, that triumph is the less wonderful; for each seemed a true bred cub of the British Lion, and most of them bore the honourable scars they received on the day their lamented Leader fell in the cause of the country.Upon their passing within the gates, they were ordered by Lord HOOD, who approached them, to stow their baggage in the Royal Charlotte Ward of the Hospital; after which they should be gratified with a view of their heroic Leader’s body lying in state, which, however, he was sure, would be to them no pleasant sight. The brave fellows bowed assent to this remark; they then proceeded to stow their hammocks in the ward appointed, and were afterwards escorted by a part of the military to the Great Hall, when they were conducted to the Saloon, where the remains of their beloved Commander lay; they eyed the coffin with melancholy admiration and respect, while the manly tears glistened in their eyes, and stole reluctant down their weather-beaten cheeks. Strangers were excluded during this affecting scene; and on the return of this brave band to the parade in front, they were again warmly greeted by the multitude; and even the eyes of beauty, everywhere glittering amidst the crowd, beamed on the rough and hardy crew, the radiant glances of approbation and sympathy.

At five o-clock the doors and gates were closed, and this morning the body will be carried to London on its way to final interment. It will be conveyed from the Saloon through the Great Hall, out the Eastern Portal, round the Royal Charlotte Ward, to the North gate, on the Thames, and placed on board the State Barge, which will be rowed by the detachment from the Victory, before- mentioned; and fifty picked men from the Greenwich pensioners, who attend as mourners, will also row in the procession.

Pieter van der Merwe, Emeritus Curator at the NMM and Deputy Lieutenant for Royal Greenwich, provides a short overview of local seaborne casualties in ‘the Great War’, based on a recently published new listing of them…

As First World War centenary remembrance comes to an end, local journalist Rob Powell, aided by various supporters, has published a list of the conflict’s nearly 1850 casualties from within the modern Royal Borough of Greenwich. It is an attractive 50-page booklet titled The Greenwich Roll of Honour, 1914-1918, illustrated with good photographs of local war memorials. It also manages to identify most of the units in which the men served. Most, of course, were in the Army, but Greenwich being a ‘maritime’ place the seafaring element is of some interest, though the figures are solely based on this list without checks against others. If my sums are right it includes 134 broadly Royal Naval deaths, of which 108 were in 67 warships of all sorts, but only one man being killed in a submarine. The other 26 comprised: 7 unspecified ‘Royal Navy’; 7 in various shore units; 5 in the Royal Marine Light Infantry; 4 in the Royal Naval Air Service and 3 in HM Transports and the Yacht Patrol.

Sixteen Royal Navy ships had two or more Greenwich casualties, amounting to 58 in all. Only 37 were clearly in battle, though causes of four more are uncertain and two were apparently of ‘flu in HMS Africa, which lost 52 men that way in late summer of 1918. The battle casualties were two killed in the Scout cruiser Pathfinder, when it became the first ship ever sunk by a submarine-launched torpedo (from U-21) off the Firth of Forth on 5 September 1914. Seventeen died the same way when the armoured cruisers Cressy and Hogue (which lost 7 each), and Aboukir (3), were torpedoed together, in quick succession in the North Sea by U-9, on 22 September. U-9 also sank the cruiser Hawke there on 15 October with five Greenwich men among its 525 dead. Three were lost when Admiral Cradock’s Pacific squadron flagship Good Hope sank with all hands at the Battle of Coronel (Chile) on 1 November 1914. Two died when U-24 torpedoed the old battleship Bulwark in the Channel in 1915 and eight at the Battle of Jutland in 1916: three in the Defence, three when the battle-cruiser Invincible blew up there and two in the Black Prince.

The most surprising figure is the 15 deaths (26% of the group of 58, and 11% of the naval total) due to catastrophic accidental magazine explosions. The largest wartime single-ship loss of Greenwich men was nine when the battleship Vanguard blew up this way in Scapa Flow on 9 July 1917, killing 843 out of 845 on board. Four followed when the armoured cruiser Natal did the same in the Cromarty Firth on 30 December 1915: this was a visiting day, which put about 30 women and children into its estimated loss of 421. Two died when the battleship Bulwark also exploded in the Medway, near Sheerness, on 26 November 1914.

While all deaths are individual tragedies, only one Greenwich man was lost in each of 51 other RN ships. Among them G. A. Morphew merits note as going down in company with Field-Marshal Lord Kitchener when HMS Hampshire hit a mine in 1916. More happily, but also surprisingly, local Merchant Navy casualties were very low: only five men are listed as being lost in five separate ships during the conflict.

Pictured above and top: Chatham Naval Memorial where the names are inscribed of many Greenwich men who have no grave other than the sea.

The Greenwich Roll of Honour will be the subject of November’s Greenwich Historical Society lecture by Rob Powell.

Some of the GHS Council paid a trip this week to the workshop within the Old Royal Naval College where architectural historian Andrew Byrne and model-maker Dave Armitage have been toiling away on the London 1840 project – members may remember that we received a short introduction to the ambitious project by Andrew last year.

Their task is a daunting one: to create a 1/1500 scale model of the whole of London as it was in 1840 with every building in the city researched, using various archives and photography, and then recreated with an accurate representation of its size, profile and roof.

The finished project will be some 30ft by 20ft, approximately, so the city has been broken down in to modular sections like large jigsaw pieces to enable them to work on it in the space which has been made available to them.

We were able to view the work which has been done on a section of East London which includes St Katharine Docks, London Dock and one of the large sugar warehouses that would have dominated the area then. This section is to be shown soon in Tower Hamlets Archives’ Mapping the Hamlets exhibition, coming soon. As work continues, it is hoped there may be other opportunities to show off sections before a home is eventually found the finished work.

Andrew says he’d always wanted to build a time machine and this project is the next best thing. We wish London 1840 well and look forward to following their progress. A new website will be launched for the project in the coming weeks and we’ll update his post when that is available.

Andrew looks down at the 1/1500 scale model of London

Model maker Dave Armitage delicately places a property on to the East London section.

Andrew and Julian Watson look through the Greenwich Revealed book which Julian co-authored with Neil Rhind.

East London at 1:1500 scale.

Our president Anthony Cross takes a photo of the impressive piece of work which is still only in its early stages.