A couple more clippings today which give a few snapshots of Mark All on his long trek. They date from the period between October 1905 to February 1907 when Mark All’s ‘first tramp’ (‘60,000 miles in seven years’) was underway and completed in good time. As you’ll learn, since August 1900 when he first set out from London, Mr All has travelled the length and breadth of the British Isles several times. He has been through Europe, too. He was intent on Russia as well but was unable to obtain a passport, ‘owing to the disturbed state of the country, and the many other matters demanding attention, the officials declined to be troubled with what they termed a fanatic.’

Here’s the first: October 7^th, 1905, A RECORD WALKER AT UXBRIDGE. We meet up with old Mr All in the western outskirts of London, where he visited the offices of the Uxbridge and West Drayton Gazette to deliver an update on his progress thus far:

‘To walk 60,000 miles in all climes, and in all weathers, is by no manner of means an enviable task, but this is being done by Mark All, a septuagenarian mechanic, who has already covered over 30,000. The “Daily Graphic,” “Daily Mirror,” and “Sporting Life” [all three, Harmsworth publications, I think] made an offer that if he completed 60,000 miles in seven years, they would raise the sum of £500 for his benefit, and this offer Mark means to win. The “Daily Chronicle,” 12 months ago, exploited the, to many, inhuman theory that a working man is “too old at 40,” and it was to show the uncertainty of this statement, and as a practical protest against it, that Mark commenced his second walk of 30,000. He hopes to complete the 60,000 miles in December 1907. It is his usual custom to call at newspaper offices on his walk and report himself to the public through the medium of the Press, and, in accordance with this custom, he called in at the offices of this journal on Monday last week, having walked from Oxford that day in damp, muggy weather. Mark is of respectable appearance: his actual age is 77. Tall, grey haired, and with the ruddy glow of health upon his cheeks, Mark at once set to work in a cheery way to tell of his experiences and produced indisputable proofs of his statements, so that if one had any doubts as to the correctness of his self-imposed task, they were quickly set at rest. He started his great walk on August 6th, 1900, from Fleet Street, and is scheduled to finish in December, 1907, and he is now well ahead of the scheduled time. He has lately worked his passage to Boulogne, tram to Switzerland, and then on through Holland, and Belgium. He then retraced his steps and got into Spain, thence to Portugal, and, taking ship at Oporto, worked his passage back to Hull. From that port he walked on to Scotland and is now on his way front Holyhead to London.

“And where are you making for next?” we asked. “For Russia. I have not been able to go yet owing to the war, but I am hoping to make arrangements now that is over, and, if I succeed, I shall make right across the country to Siberia.”

This was said in such a casual way that it made one smile. Mark thinks no more of walking 40 miles than an Uxbridge man would think of walking four.

“You have had some rough experiences at times,” we remarked, after reading a newspaper cutting, which told that Mark, like the traveller of old who came from Jerusalem to Jericho, fell among thieves, who stripped him of his clothing and left him half dead in the road.

“Yes,” he replied, I have had some rough times, and had I known what I should have had to go through, l should not have taken on the other 3,000 miles. I have gone for days without food, but I have never yet seen the inside of a workhouse, and I never intend to until I am carried there.”

Mark is forbidden under the conditions governing the walk to solicit for alms, and he never does, but he is not debarred from accepting voluntary contributions to help him on his way, and there is one incident which Mark records with pardonable pride, and his eyes lighted up as he told the story. He was one day in the neighbourhood of Newmarket and was met by a party of gentlemen in a motor car, evidently having come from the races. Seeing his badge, and conditions of the walk, they stopped, and one of them asked him if he were the old man who was trying to walk 60,000 miles in seven years, and he said he was, and one of the party, to whom the others showed great deference, said: “Brave old veteran.” He told Mark to be sure to communicate with him when he had completed his task. “I will, your Majesty,” replied Mark, who had recognised the King. It is needless to say that Mark came away from that interview a richer and a happier man. He has walked 45,392 miles, and still has 14,608 to do. He wants to finish before December, 1907, if possible, but he has some bad country to do. He is the only walker recognised by the King.

“How did you get on in Germany,” was the next question put. “When I was in Germany,” he replied, I obtained employment for a short time at Bremen. They treated me very well there but didn’t forget when they found that I was an Englishman to chaff me about my country. Germany, they told me, was going ahead, and we should never recover the trade they had taken from us.”

“And did your own observations of German workmen tend to confirm that modest statement?”

Mark smiled. “Well, no, it didn’t,” he said. “Labour is cheap there. A first-class mechanic does not get more than 30s. per week; but the work is very inferior; I call it slop-work. Old as I am, I should not be afraid to back myself against the best man I saw out there.”

And by the way he said this one could not doubt the sincerity of it. “And France?” “Oh very well indeed; better, in fact, than I do in England, in spite of the difficulty in not knowing the language. I do not quite like the Swiss. They seem to me to be a very clannish sort of people.”

Mark’s luggage consists of a black handbag, which holds his tools and a few articles of clothing. The total weight is 28lbs. He has a book full of newspaper cuttings, recording his walk, and the names of the newspaper offices he has called at; also, a number of sketches. “I’m a rare draughtsman,” said the old man with a smile, as he carefully adjusted his spectacles, and produced pen and ink sketches, showing himself seated in a boat on the sea, with the inscription: ‘Mark All, on the Sea of Life.’

“I do this on the road,” he continued. “There’s my little ink bottle and pen. I make my diary up day by day, and I hope to have these sketches and remarks published in book form when I have completed my walk.”

“And it will prove interesting reading,” we ventured to remark.

“Well, yes: I’ve had a good deal of experience, and can use my tools now, old as I am. I’ve encountered much rough weather and gone days without food. It’s the wet weather that tries me most.” Mark has the satisfaction of knowing that, by walking 45,000 miles in five years, he has accomplished a feat which is absolutely unique, as the previous best performance was that of a German, and Mark records with pride the fact that he is the Englishman to whom it has been given to lower the Teutonic record.

From Uxbridge Mark All proceeded to Hammersmith, where he has friends.’

Where is that book of cuttings, those pen and ink sketches and diary now? Maybe, if they survived, they may still lie buried in an archive. What a prize they would be if they popped up on Ebay!

Mark All met the King more than once during his peregrinations. Eight months later, in mid-June 1906, when passing through St Albans (“for the seventh time”) ,he told the ‘Herts Advertiser’ that “[in] March of this year, when he was passing through Sandringham. “His Majesty sent one of his equerries to tell me he would like to speak to me,’’ said Mark All, and when I went, his Majesty said, “Well, you are still driving your pair of shanks, Mark?” I didn’t quite know what he meant, so I replied, “I am still endeavouring to complete my journey, your Majesty.” He said, “You haven’t much more to do now?” and I said, “A matter of 11,000 miles, your Majesty and he added “You will soon do that; that is nothing.” He told me if I lived to cover the 60,000 miles I was to be sure and communicate with him, and so I shall. His Majesty showed his interest in my attempt giving me five sovereigns and a good lunch.”

God bless Dirty Bertie! A square meal was a rare treat to Mark All as the same article goes on to describe:

‘Mark’s eyes glistened as he told of the good things placed before him; food enough for fifty people, served to him by waiters with powdered hair; and contrasted this with some of the sparse meals of which has had to partake by the wayside. His living is most precarious, and he asserted that often he would go without food for two three days for lack of funds. Producing a penny from his pocket when in the Herts Advertiser Office, he said, am pretty well on the rocks now; this is my last penny.”  What steps you taken for procuring food when funds run out?” asked our representative?” “Then,” said Mark, “I go without. If have a copper or two I purchase raisins. I have often gone two hundred miles with a raisin in my mouth. Beer is no good, and I never drink water. I am not up to concert pitch to-day. though,” he added somewhat ruefully, for I celebrated my 78th birthday yesterday when passing through London, and I met friends there who would have me take drink or two, and it doesn’t do”.

Another gift of money came to him, we learn, through the beneficence of Joseph Chamberlain ‘the apostle of Tariff Reform’ who whilst speaking at Bedford during the general election earlier that year had started a subscription list among friends at his hotel, ‘and in the course of a few minutes had raised the substantial sum of £11 to help him on his way.’

“At what rate do you reckon to walk? was the next query put to Mark, who replied: “I can go six miles an hour, but don’t make it practice. Four-and-a-half or five miles is my rate.”

“Don’t you find the strain tolling upon you?” “No, I have had good health all the time; but I have been in considerable peril at times by strange characters. I have been robbed and stoned and left naked upon the wayside. I was treated worst in Germany, where I was stabbed. I think they were hostile to me there because I had beaten the previous record 40,000 miles walked by a German in five years. I have now beaten that record by about 11,750 miles.”

Interrogated as his plans for completion his task, the veteran pedestrian stated that he intended going from St. Albans on Tuesday to Luton and Bedford, on towards Liverpool, where he hopes to obtain passport enabling him to tramp through Russia and Siberia, returning to England by way of Ostend, completing his journeyings in London.

There was no doubt about his hopefulness in regard to the completion his task. “Given good health,” he said, cheerily, “I shall do 60,000 miles considerably under seven years. I am looking forward finishing in February next year.”

“How do you manage for boots?” asked our representative. “So far.” replied Mark, “I have worn out seven pairs, and these I have now are just beginning to go. I have to save up in order replace them.” [PS in the following September, when he was interviewed in the West Country, this tally had climbed to ‘42 pairs of boots … 32 shirts, seven suits of clothes and innumerable socks’!]

“Who mends your clothes?” “I do that myself. Here are needles and cotton, and here is my bag of buttons, and here,” said he, producing neatly-packed parcel from his overcoat pocket, are my soap and towel and brush.”

The series of small memorandum books, in which cuttings from newspapers all over the country referring to his travels, with numerous quotations and marginal notes, are kept by Mark All with great care, the volumes being arranged in chronological order and placed in cloth wallet. Observing that entries were made in ink, our representative inquired where the writing was usually done, and received the reply that it was, as a rule, accomplished at the roadside during a halt, Mark All, while speaking, producing from his waistcoat pocket a bottle of ink, and displaying pen which he carries in his tin spectacle case.

“…My handbag, in which I used to carry my belongings, wore out, so that I have now store away my things in my pockets.”

Undismayed by his precarious fortune, Mark All bade us cheery good-bye and passed on his way.’

His dog [a brindle called, “Business”, as I have recently discovered] has died after accompanying him for 21,000 miles, now his bag has worn out! But Mark All was a man of courage and of staying power, having once set himself to a task he did not give it up. He meant to endure to the end of the journey! He was also blessed with a cheerful spirit. His fortitude must have been immense in order to confront the dangers he met with along the way: lost in snowdrifts several times, stoned in Germany, stabbed in Italy, struck by lightning near Marseilles, beaten, robbed, stripped naked and left for dead on Shap Fell. On the road from Belfast to Cork, he was forced to remove the Union Jack from his sleeve after the locals threatened to “do for him.” Just outside Bath he was met by two other tramps who threatened violence with a cut-throat razor, but they backed down when he ‘reminded them with a tap from a loaded stick [Harmsworth’s ‘stout walking stick’?]  that he was not without arms.’ When asked about these experiences on one occasion, he replied “I believe there is no other man living who could have lived through the hardships I have endured. It is a mystery to me that I am alive.”

We can empathise then, with these otherwise mawkish lines he committed to his one of his notebooks and which were recited by him to the representative of the Wicklow Newsletter and County Advertiser in July 1906.

Across the foam far, far from home

The wanderer may steer;

But memory will never roam

From all he holds most dear.

A father’s and a mother’s love

Blooms when all else decays;

How prized and treasur’d are the hours

Of childhood’s happy days.

Mark All arrived in London in the first week of December 1906, having completed 58,888 miles of his attempt, but didn’t linger there long. By the end of the month he is reported to have been in Bristol. On the 8^th of January 1907, he was in Hanley, Staffordshire (59.154 miles) where in the course of an interview he told how he had “spent Christmas Day on a heap of stones covered with snow on the roadside between Warminster and Bath. I had no food the whole day long, and as night approached, I had no shelter, and was so obliged to sleep in the snow.” But notwithstanding all his bitter experiences, the interview concluded, he had not allowed despair to overcome him.

On the 14^th January he is reported to have been in Derby (59,225 miles) with ‘yet seven months before the completion of the time allotted to him tor his task.’ On the evening of the 22^nd, he arrived at Bedford (59,451 miles), setting off again the following Monday heading for Barnett. Whilst there he told the papers that when he completed his task he stood to ‘win’ £1000; £500 from ‘the papers’ and £500 from a ‘number of certain gentlemen.’

The Nottingham Evening Post for 4^th February reported (among other things) that The Grand Duchess Cyril of had given birth to daughter. Mr. Justice Ridley, at the Essex Assizes described the creed of the Peculiar People “horrible and ghastly” one. [That] although scarcely safe many are venturing on ice. [That] The Marquis of Salisbury will offer for sale 241 fine old Hatfield oaks at St. Valentine’s Day. [That] The Dominion Line has placed an order with Harland, Wolff, Belfast for a 14,000 tons twin  screw steamer, for service between Liverpool and Canadian ports …

… AND finally, that Mr. Mark All, who is 79 … is expected to complete at Hyde Park Corner, on Sunday next, his walk of 60,000 miles, undertaken to demonstrate the fallacy the “too old by forty” theory.

Mark All duly completed his marathon walk on 14^th February 1907, though I can find no particular report of this in the newspapers other than some published shortly afterwards in which he said to be looking forward to his interview with his old friend the King.

So, Mark All has passed ‘Go’, but the question is: did he ‘collect his £200’ – or was it £500, or even £1000?? And did he then hang up his boots? Not likely! Watch out for the next instalment in the long-walking saga of Mark All, “Ped”.

Having paused for thought and consideration, and having taken the advice of my learned friends and colleagues in GHS, let’s review the story so far …

In August 1900, this old chap, Mark All, an out of work engineer, down on his uppers, took up a wager (with all sorts of strings attached) with Alfred Harmsworth that he could not walk 300,000 miles in 21 years. (Or so he said) – because when we (we’re on this case together, you understand) scratch the surface of this claim, it soon becomes apparent that both the duration of the challenge and the amount of the prize differs as time goes on. This leads me to be curious as to the actual facts of the matter.

Eventually, I suppose, I would like to get to the bottom of his claim, but not at the cost of spoiling what is a fantastic – in the true sense – tale. And anyway, ‘eventually’ – presently – is a long way off. Hopefully not the twenty-five years Mark All tramped from place to place, but we surely have sufficient time to emerge ourselves in his contemplation just now. How to go about this? Which is our best foot forward? What are the broad parameters? First, I think, and this will be the task for today, we need to find out something more about the man himself. What we need first of all is an identikit picture. So, back to the British Library I will go.

Here’s where we left off: at 10.00am on Tuesday 29 May 1906 Mark All had presented himself at the office of the SUSSEX EXPRESS, SURREY STANDARD & KENT MAIL in Lewes. Visits like this to the local newspaper were obviously part his modus operandi. They served not just to make a mark on the calendar as to the time and place of his whereabouts, but also, crucially, in exchange for a story that would make for a few interesting column inches, the journalists would pass the hat round and present the proceeds to the old man to send him on his way. Totally level and above board, therefore, according to the rules of the wager’s engagement. Incidentally, remember, at this date the ‘distance /duration’ ratio was “60,000 miles in seven years”. Here’s part of what the paper printed the following Saturday (2 June 1906). It gives us clue as to his character as well as his original motive:

“The old man’s story is decidedly interesting. He was born at Greenwich, and apprenticed at some engineering works that town, and worked at his trade regularly for many years, but after the Employer’s Liability Act [1880] was passed he found it difficult to earn a living, as masters were not at all keen having men who were getting on in years to work for them. Rather than go on the parish All, despite his seventy odd years, set out find work of some sort or another, and it was while was tramping from place to place that it occurred to him try and establish world’s record in walking, and prove the absurdity of the argument that a man is “done for” so far physical energy concerned. “It was not begging tour that I undertook. I made up my mind to work, and, as far possible, support myself and do what good I could others. In the course of my travels I have worked on various jobs, and what help I have received has been the free gifts of people who have met me on the road.”

Whilst there’s no specific mention of Harmsworth, the journalist was told that:

“It appears that some gentlemen who are interested in All’s great effort have promised him a substantial reward should he achieve the object has in view, and the aged pedestrian is hoping that by this time next year will be the happy possessor of £5OO or more.”

“Great effort”. Certainly, if you care to look up ‘Pedestrianism’, you’ll see there is a long tradition of the ‘sport’, and quite a few contenders, including Blackheath’s very own George Wilson back in the early nineteenth century See: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Wilson_(racewalker) And they were matched by an equal number of (usually languid aristocratic) backers. But few, if any, went to the lengths of Mark All.

The same article goes on to tell that Mark All averaged 45 miles a day; that presently he was on his seventh circuit of the British Isles and that he had tramped through Europe too.  It relates some of the adventures (and misadventures) he met with along the way. These few facts are corroborated in articles elsewhere along his way. Did Mark All, I wonder, have a route in mind, or was his destination wheresoever the road led him?

In the St Albans, where Mark All gave an interview in mid-January 1906, he expands on this question among matters. Described as an ‘old fellow … wearing a somewhat weather-beaten appearance, but nevertheless looking wonderfully sturdy and in good spirits’, the journalist questioned him as to how far he had walked up to the present, and Mark All, ‘after referring to a diary which he keeps with commendable method, said he had walked up to Wednesday morning 40,7410 miles, leaving him 12,590 miles to traverse to complete his task: “With this object in view,” continued Mark All, I am going to Dunstable and Northampton; then I shall make my way right up to John O’Groats, and then perhaps journey right through Ireland, North and South Wales and then back to London … Asked if there were any wager at stake, Mark All said that if he completed the journey he would get £500 from certain London sporting papers, who had also helped him when he completed 30,000 miles.’

In the same interview he told the journalist he that his specific motivation had been the engineers’ strike in London of 1897-98. There’s an excellent account given of it here by John Grigg, Brentford & Chiswick Local History Society:

The 1897 Engineers’ Strike in Chiswick

“The employers”, he said, gave the men clearly to understand that they considered them unfit for work after 45 years of age.” His idea was to prove this idea a fallacy. Starting from Fleet Street, London, on August 6^th, 1904, he said “I was 72 years and two months old when I started, having been born on June 11^th, 1828 at Greenwich. I am an engineer by trade, and served my apprenticeship at Greenwich, working afterwards for thirty years for a firm in Westminster Bridge Road. At the time of the engineers strike in 1897-8, I was working for Messrs Thorneycroft at Chiswick.”

A few months later, at the end of December 1906, Mark All was in Bristol where we are given this rough sketch of him:

“An elderly gentleman, wearing a Union Jack, triangle shape, on the sleeve of his left arm and a medallion of a brindle dog suspended round his neck … whose bones rest in France, after his long trot of several thousand miles at the heels of Mark All, his master”.

At least, therefore, the remark we find in the entry-book of Carrington House, the single-men’s hostel in Brookmills Road, Deptford where Mark All bedded down at end of play one August day in 1909 was not always true. No doubt, it was made for good administrative reasons, but still I find it shocking to read on the page these three words: “No friends known”.

How Mark All’s original challenge was carried on and carried out – how it transmuted into another, longer challenge, (and perhaps another) is a story for another day …

Evenin’ all.

Dear All !!

For your edification, and, as I hope, your inspiration, I am sharing with you the story of MARK ALL, a native of Greenwich, born 1828, who (it is said) at the age of 70-something took up a challenge that he could not walk 300,000 miles in less than 21 years.

Could he? Did he? Read on …

According to Mr. All, ‘his pedestrian effort’ all began in 1900 when out of work as an engineer he walked into Alfred Harmsworth’s office in Fleet Street in search of employment. The newspaper magnate, later promoted Lord Northcliffe, told him he had no use of his services presently but offered him the following wager: if Mark could walk 300,000 miles by August 6^th, 1924, he would win £3000. And, of course, lest anyone think this a cinch (or walkover) there were strings attached. The conditions were he was not to beg, he was not to ride except when crossing water, nor was he allowed to walk on Sundays. He was not to make public speeches and he was not to doss in the workhouse. He was not to ask for a match or even a glass of water along the way. Whatever gifts or aid he obtained had to be given voluntarily. “His only friend on the road”, said the Central Somerset Gazette on October 12^th 1923, “was a stout walking stick presented to him by Lord Northcliffe when he started on his journey, and bearing the date and his initials carved with a penknife by the donor himself”. Harmsworth told him to bring it back to him when he had completed his task, and he would be rewarded.

We can follow his progress in the newspapers. It seems that part of his habit was to visit the local news office where and when he could in order to ‘register’ his mileage that day, but also to take up the proceeds of whatever hat was passed round on that occasion. So, for instance, on Saturday 26^th June 1909, we hear of his arrival in Yarmouth where the local paper reported the story thus far:

‘We were favoured on Tuesday with call from one the most remarkable pedestrians of modern times, Mr. Mark All, who has become famous as the World’s Champion Long-distance walker. He was born on the 11^th June 1828, and has, therefore, just passed his 81st year. On the 6^th August, 1900, he started from Fleet Street, in London, to walk 100,000 miles in ten years, … and that on the completion of his, task he is to receive from a syndicate of newspaper proprietors a sum of £2,000. During the nine years in which he has been on the road he has visited most of the countries of Europe. Asia, Africa, and Australia. When he came into our office on the 22nd of June, had completed 98,249 miles, leaving 1,751 miles to be walked; and hopes that this will be accomplished by the 6th August next, which will be within a year of the stipulated period. During his travels, he has been presented to the King of England, the Kaiser, the young King of Spain, and other crowned heads. The Kaiser, when Mr. Mark All saw him, was one of a hunting party, and he approached officer asked him to “Salute the Emperor.” This at once did, and the Kaiser said he had heard of him. Asked what Mr. All thought of the King of England, he replied, “He very nice gentleman, just the man to be our monarch, and in every way what I admire.” To that the Kaiser said nothing, but he remarked, “Well, you know you English are a lot of fools, and you yourself are only a childish old man!” Mr. All replied with a challenge to the best man Germany to do what had already done, which was not the task of a very childish person! The Kaiser laughed, and gave him a little present of about £5. During his travels in foreign countries, Mr. All has suffered as many persecutions as St. Paul, been flung into prison (for, as alleged, exceeding the liberty of his passport), attacked with knives, shot at, stoned, baited with dogs, and had many adventures and extraordinary escapes. He has worn the Union Jack tied around his arm in all countries, and this has got him into many scrapes, and got him out of many, too. The pedestrian is now wending his way towards Ipswich and then to Colchester and Chelmsford, and will keep up his wanderings until, on the completion of his task, he will probably be welcomed by curious crowds upon his return to London. He will have broken the world’s record, the next best walk being that of a German who walked 40,000 miles in seven years. If he accomplishes his task in August next, Mr. All will have completed his walk in eight years and ten months, Sundays having to be excluded from the period of his expedition.’

This is colourful stuff and interesting on many levels, not least for the anti-German sentiment expressed a good five years before war was declared, but leaving that aside for the moment, it is evident from the facts and figures quoted here (“£100,000 … in 10 years”) that the story is evolving – it is, as we say, growing whiskers!

Which begins to make me wonder about the veracity of all this. After all, the business about Harmsworth, the 300,00 miles and the 3 grand jackpot only enters in at a later date when you think about it.

Now, I’m the last one to ruin a good story by letting the facts get in the way but, for instance, if we look back three years to a time when he tramped into Lewes on or about Saturday June 2^nd 1906, the Sussex Express printed the following under the headline, A GREAT WALK.

‘On Tuesday morning a hale and hearty old veteran walked into the “Sussex Express” Office and announced himself Mark All, the holder the World’s record for walking the longest distance in the shortest time. A little more than five years ago, and when had reached the age 72, All imposed upon himself the gigantic task of walking 60,000 miles in seven years, the distance to be completed by December, 1907. By ten o’clock Tuesday morning, which hour he arrived Lewes, All had covered 51,250 miles, leaving 8,750, which, if he is able keep up his average, he will accomplish about next February, or several months before the stipulated time.’

Hang on! “60,000 miles … in 7 years”. I’m going to have to sleep on this! 

I’ll be back with Part 2 as soon as possible …

The latest of Tideway Community Lectures takes places early next month.

“Neighbours and Friends Welcome  – Foreshore Archaeology at Greenwich” will delivered by the Thames Discovery Programme’s own Helen Johnston at King William Court, University of Greenwich SE10 9NN on Friday 9th February at 7pm.

The lecture will explore the rapidly eroding archaeology of the Thames foreshore and the role that the Foreshore Recording and Observation Group take in monitoring the site. The lecture will be preceded by drinks and nibbles from 6:30pm.

Tickets to the lecture are free and can be booked on Eventbrite here

Cornwell and O’Neill, Blacksmiths: (from left to right) Danny O’Neill, Alan Cornwell, Peter O’Neill.

Born 1954, Peter O’Neill, aged 19, started out welding and creating objects with wrought iron and steel in a garden with his best mate Colin Cornwell. They then went on to working for Cubows Ltd., at the Docks in Woolwich; building, repairing tugs, trawlers and coasters until, in 1976, they opened up their first business together, called Cornwell & O’Neill based in Greenwich.

The business operated across two large workshops, which were based at 21 Greenwich High Road, and shared the yard with Mumford’s old flourmill.

From a very young age I often went to work with my Dad at weekends and during the summer holidays. From going so often I could see how he played a key role in the community; anyone who passed by would stop to have a chat over the stable door, or a neighbour would just pop in to have their garden shears sharpened. I even remember the comedian Gareth Hale from Hale & Pace popping in one afternoon to talk about a job.

My Dad did a lot of work for the area, whether it was a small repair job or making a staircase, he enjoyed every minute and was very hard working. I would guess that most railings or gates in the area were most likely made or repaired by my Dad. Nothing proved this more then the week after his death, when two local people I had never met but came into contact with told me that they knew of him and one had window boxes made by him back in the early 80s.

Dad once told me about a job he did once for a high profile celebrity born in the areas (I won’t mention his name!) Let’s just say that since that day my Dad always called him “Tricky Dicky”. My Dad made gates and railings for him but didn’t receive payment so he went to the house and started to remove them. Out ran Tricky Dicky in his bathrobe shouting to find out what was going on and saying that Dad couldn’t remove the gates and railings, as they were his. My Dad asked how they could be his when he hadn’t paid for them? With that Tricky Dicky quickly paid his bill and my Dad left, leaving the gates and railings in place.

The workshop on Greenwich High Road was sold for redevelopment in 2000 so Dad moved up to Guildford Grove, where the business still operates from today under the name Greenwich Forge. Dad’s work meant a lot to him but unfortunately, due to ill health over the years, he had to cut down on his time in the workshop – but even when he wasn’t there he still continued to give great advice.

My Dad worked in the community for almost 40 years and made a big contribution to the area in that time. I am proud of the man he was and the work that he did. I have lots of fond memories of my time with him in the workshop and I hope that other people in the community will remember him fondly as well.

RIP Peter O’Neill 1954-2017