Category Archives: Greenwich History

Lee’s Accidental Airship Record  – Willows II

When thinking about locations for aeronautical records in south London, the most obvious places to consider are, perhaps, Biggin Hill or the old Croydon Aerodrome (covered in passing in relation to ‘Lady Icarus’);  a  long way down the list would be Lee. But Lee has been home to two  records – the first known parachute fatality at Burnt Ash Farm, which was covered in the blog in 2015, and, for a short period in the early 20th century, it was the accidental location for the end of the longest airship flight  when Willows II landed somewhere around Winns Road on what was known as Woodman’s Farm.

Like the sad tale of Robert Cocking, Lee’s claim to fame was a purely accidental one.  The pilot was aiming for Crystal Palace but due to poor visibility and some technical problems had somewhat overshot his destination.


From postcard in author’s ‘collection’

The pilot was Captain Ernest Thompson Willows, he was the son of a wealthy Cardiff dentist and born in 1886.  He had been inspired by the Wright Brothers and built his first airship, Willows I, two years after their flight at Kitty Hawk when Willows was just 19. It was powered by a motorcycle engine and was reasonably successful, its maiden flight outside Cardiff lasted for 85 minutes, the first of half a dozen flights.

The follow up, the imaginatively named Willows II, was another four years in the making and was slightly bigger than the first one and launched in 1909.  He extended the length of the flights – flying from Cheltenham to Cardiff in four hours in July 1910.


Picture from ‘Flight’ 13 August 1910

The flight to Lee was the following month.  He left his ‘shed’ in the moors above Cardiff around 8 pm on an August Saturday evening, guided initially by the lights of his father’s car.  The car lights failed soon after England had been reached and Willows was left to steer by a combination of stars, lights from towns and occasional forays down to almost ground level to check where he was via megaphone (1)  His flight took him over Chippenham, Colne, Reading and Chertsey before heading towards Crystal Palace (2).

Coming to a stop was fairly rudimentary and involved throwing a grappling iron out and hoping someone would be able to get hold of it and secure the airship.  On the approach to Crystal Palace, the grappling iron got stuck in a tree and the rope broke.  He drifted on to between Lee and Mottingham, where a watchman with some help from others was able to catch the rope and secure Willows II (3).

There was some damage to the skin with a consequent loss of hydrogen, which needed to be replaced.  So it wasn’t until the following Monday evening that he was able to complete the trip to Crystal Palace – his flight took him over Lee, Hither Green, Catford and Lower Sydenham before reaching Sydenham Hill 18 minutes later – the journey was watched by thousands on the ground.  The final destination was in cloud and he lost those on the ground who he was following, so like the flight to Lee, the final descent was a bit haphazard.

Once at Crystal Palace he did regular demonstrations, which adverts were taken out for in the local and national press – such as this one in The Times (4).

Woodman 2

Willows continued with building airships – Willows II was re-built and re-named as the City of Cardiff in an unsuccessful attempt to win a £2000 prize for the first flight between Paris and London.  While he was able to sell Willows IV to the Admiralty for just over £1000, it seems to have been the only significant money he made from his passion for flight.  A period in the Royal Flying Corps in World War 1 was bookended by offering sight-seeing flights – it was on one of these near Bedford in August 1926 where the basket became detached from the airship and Ernest Willows and his five passengers hurtled to the ground – one of the passengers survived but all the others, including Willows, perished.


As for Woodman’s Farm in Lee, it seems to have been a relatively short lived farm, its location is highlighted on the map above.  It may well have originally been part of Horn Park Farm which the blog covered a while ago.  The unplanned landing of the airship seems to be its first mention.  It was also known as Melrose Farm – which it was referred to in the 1914 Kelly’s Directory (5).

The farm was a market gardening operation supplying the army during WW1 and selling produce at Greenwich market (6).  It was run by the Woodman family seemingly until the 1930s, when, like Horn Park Farm, it was lost to developers (7).  The farm house remains on Ashdale Road, helpfully called ‘The Old Farm House’ to make identification easy and was used by the builders of streets around there, Wates, as a site office during the construction (8).



  1. Flight 13 August 1910
  2.  Ibid
  3.  Ibid
  4.  The Times (London, England), Tuesday, Aug 23, 1910; pg. 1; Issue 39358
  5.  Josephine Birchenough and John King (1981) ‘Some Farms and Fields in Lee’, p14
  6.  Ibid
  7.  Ibid
  8.  ibid

Well Hall Stream – A Tributary of the Quaggy, Part 1

Unlike some of the other tributaries of the Quaggy, the early stages of Well Hall Stream are obvious; there seem to be at least three sources relatively high up on Shooters Hill.  There are a couple of small streams tumbling down through Jackwood on the southern side of Shooters Hill – just to the east of Sevendroog Castle.  One of these has a clear valley and is big enough to have a bridge crossing it on the path through the woods and has a clear flow in wet weather.


There is also a rather soggy area just below the café on the western side of Oxleas Meadow – this would seem to be a spring and there a clear signs of fluvial erosion there both on the ground and the tell-tell upward pointing notches of contours on Ordnance Survey maps.


All three of these sources were constrained by concrete when leaving the meadow or woodland to enter culverts under Crookston Road when the houses were built in the 1930s.  Whether the water is piped down its previous course or enters the road drainage system is unclear.

In the very soggy winter of 2013/14 the culvert to the east either became blocked or couldn’t cope with the flows – oddly these seem to be the responsibility of residents to maintain.  Flooding resulted and residents dug a small drainage channel just inside the meadow to divert the flow away from the houses and onto Rochester Way. It was still visible two winters on.


Top photo source

While there is no evidence of water on the hillside outside the woods, the former course of streams route away from Jackwood are clear to the fluvial flâneur – there is a small switchback with two little eroded notches in Dairsie Road that the developers didn’t fill.

The streams would probably have crossed what is now Rochester Way before coalescing into a a single flow somewhere around Dumbreck Road. There is a gentle downward fall towards the source of the stream’s name – Well Hall – the former route is obvious from the curvature of the thin brown sepia lines of the Ordnance Survey map but much less so on the ground.

I had hoped to hear the sound of submerged water from beneath manhole covers, but the only audible flows on a quiet Sunday afternoon were those of traffic streaming along the nearby, and also partially submerged A2.

The route became clear again with gentle depressions on both Glenesk and Westmount Roads.  There is a rather attractive Methodist chapel, built in 1906 on the northern ‘bank’ of the stream at the junction of Earlshall and Westmount Roads.  It replaced a ‘tin church’ on the same site and was opened as Walford Green Memorial Church. Walford Green was an important local figure in Methodism rather a predecessor of a fictional E20 square.



Even on the oldest Ordnance Survey maps the stream isn’t always visible here, presumably having suffered from minor diversions to allow the cultivation of the farms that emerged after the break-up of the Royal Parks at Eltham Palace – something covered before in the blog in relation to Horn Park Farm.  The farm here was Park Farm.  It was also home to a 1000 yard rifle range on the first OS survey in the 1860s.



The stream continues down Earlshall Road which starts to have a look of the Catford – Hither Green border; this is not surprising, it is another ‘Corbett Estate’ of a similar vintage – it is ‘carbon-dated’ via the impressive and imposing looking early Edwardian school – Gordon Primary School, which has retained temporary classrooms from WW1 when the area upstream was home to temporary housing for Woolwich munitions workers and their families.


Not long after, and again with a slight depression in the road, the stream ’emerges’ into Well Hall Road and then into the eponymous Pleasaunce.

The journey  of Well Hall Stream to the Quaggy in what is now Sutcliffe Park will be concluded next week.

E Nesbit, The Railway Children and Lewisham

It was a simple street name sign in Grove Park that this post had its origins in …

Between 1894 and 1899 Edith Nesbit lived at Three Gables in Baring Road – roughly between the Ringway Centre and Stratfield House flats. Grove Park was then a popular middle-class residential area and still with a number of small farms. The home backed onto the railway and there are suggestions that it may have inspired the Railway Children. Three Gables has long gone, although part of its garden is now Grove Park Nature Reserve, but Nesbit’s time there is remembered with a path which forms part of the Green Chain Walk.

There have been suggestions that the character of Albert Perks, played by Bernard Cribbens in the 1970 film version, was modelled on Southern Railway employee, William Thomson, who worked at Grove Park station and lived in Chinbrook Road.

She had moved to Well Hall by the time she wrote ‘The Railway Children’ though, a four-storey house next to the ‘Tudor Barn’, Well Hall House – shown in ‘engraving’ on the information board in, what is now known as, Well Hall Pleasaunce.  Her name is also remebered in an unattractive cul-de-sac between the Pleasaunce and the elevated A2 dual-carriageway leading to a bowling club.


The backdrop to the children’s novel was a thinly disguised version of the Dreyfus Affair, whilst Nesbit was writing ‘The Railway Children’ Dreyfus had been pardoned, with the acquittal almost coinciding with the publication in early 1906.

I must admit to not having read ‘The Railway Children’ since school and my recollections of it are more shaped by the 1970 Lionel Jeffries film than the book and the current theatre production at the specially built Kings Cross Theatre. The film and play at least, evoke an almost idealised Edwardian rural middle class lifestyle.

The Railway Children Books About Town bench - Greewnwich 2014

The Railway Children Books About Town bench – Greewnwich 2014

Nesbit’s own adult life was very far removed from this; she was one of the co-founders of one of the Labour Party’s forerunners, the Fabian Society and had brief links with Henry Hyndman’s Social Democratic Federation, although found it a little too radical for her. Another author with Lewisham connections, David Lodge, covered the period at Well Hall in passing in his biographical novel of H G Wells, ‘A Man of Parts.’ She effectively lived in a ménage-a trois with her husband, Hubert Bland, and his mistress. Nesbit too had numerous affairs, including one with a young George Bernard Shaw.

As for her other Lewisham links, Edith Nesbit lived in several locations in Blackheath, Lewisham and Lee before her stay at Three Gables. The first seems to have been 16 Dartmouth Row, Blackheath (top left photo, below) where she moved in 1879 prior to her marriage to Herbert Bland. They moved to 28 Elswick Road, off Loampit Vale in Lewisham in 1882 (top right) which was recognised as part of Lewisham’s maroon plaque scheme.


She seems to have spent several years around Lee; the 1891 Kelly’s directory has her husband living at 2 Birch Grove, just off what is now the South Circular. There is also a small park and children’s playground at the corner of Osberton and Leland Roads which bears her name, reflecting the time the she lived in the nearby Dorville Road

Whilst at Three Gables she wrote a couple of children’s books with local connections ‘The Treasure Seekers’ (1898) where the Bastables children’s ‘ancestral home’ was ‘a semi-detached and has a garden, not a large one’ at 150 Lewisham Road, before moving to The Red House in Blackheath in ‘The Wouldbegoods: Being the Further Adventures of the Treasure Seekers’ (1899)’

A quick skim read through on-line finds mentions of The Quaggy and the Lewisham Workhouse (now Hospital) in the ‘New Treasure Seekers’ (1904) concerning attempts to get rid of a Christmas Pudding with an unintentionally soapy taste paid for by subscription by the wealthy folks of Blackheath Park and Granville Park.

Nesbit was important in children’s literature with her biographer, Julia Briggs, suggesting that she was ‘the first modern writer for children’, and credited her with having invented the children’s adventure story – paving the way for the likes for Arthur Ransome’s ‘Swallows and Amazons’ after World War 1 and Enid Blyton (whose life in Shortlands was touched upon in the blog last year) ‘Famous Five’ around 40 years later.

Low Tide on the Thames 2 – Thamesmead and Erith

A couple of weeks ago I ran upstream from the Thames Barrier to Greenwich along the river at low tide, stopping at several old wharfs along the way.  A consultation of tide tables this week suggested that I would find similar conditions this week.

Rather than repeating the route, I headed in the opposite direction, starting my run at the eastern edge of Woolwich Arsenal and heading downstream – my original aim was to run to the River Darenth, the boundary between London and Kent, but the twists and turns of the Thames Path meant that the edge of Erith was my limit before retracing my steps.

The early morning light over one of the abandoned jetties saw Canary Wharf bathed in bright sun. A heron waited patiently at margins of the glutenous mud and the shallow water for the movement of fish.  A little further downstream the blue of a kingfisher darted out of one of the many drainage channels bringing water away from the former marshes of Thamesmead, its task, as it glinted and glided over the surface, the same as that of the heron.


The ‘light’ at Tripcock Ness (so named as vessels were not allowed to carry their anchor ‘cock-billed’) was ‘lit’ in the early morning sun, and a wall from the former Arsenal provided a pleasant foreground for a small area of remaining marshland on the north bank – apart from the pylons, little will have changed in the view in a century.

imageAfter passing a driving range abandoned by golfers, but taken over by horses,  the odour changed a little – first was Joseph Bazelgette’s ‘Cathedral on the Marsh’ – Crossness, a former steam driven sewage pumping  station.  Next door is its modern counterpart – with warnings of explosions – and a little further downstream Thames Water’s sludge power generator which uses sewage flakes as its fuel. Oddly, the ‘flakes’ come from Slough rather than next door.


On the north bank, opposite Crossness, is Ford’s Dagenham plant, once home to the Cortina, the Sierra and the Fiesta but now just an engine plant.  On the south bank jetties and industry start to re-appear – a mixture of abandoned and working  – and the river bank is used for light industry, how it used to be upstream, before the housing took over.

My target mileage for the run was 11 miles, and the ‘out and back’ route along the river made distance easy to judge – the turning point was the on edge of Erith, with the sun glinting off the river and the heavy traffic heading southwards on the QE2 bridge in the distance.


Housing ‘Poor Men’ in Greenwich

Trinity Hospital claims to be the oldest building in Greenwich; built in 1613, it pre-dates Inigo Jones Queen’s House by three years.  The benefactor was Henry Howard, Earl of Northampton and the Hospital, which is an almshouse, was built to provide shelter for 20 ‘Poor Men’ plus a warden.


The Hospital has a slightly monastic feel with a small cloistered courtyard, the original rooms were little more than cells but the 21 rooms were converted into one bedroom flats following a refurbishment in 2008.


The building itself had a makeover in 1812 with changes to the clock tower and the front stuccoed and capped with a castellated parapet.  Apparently the original south facing elevation was retained – this wasn’t accessible when I visited, although the pleasant garden which it looks out onto was – it is crossed by the meridian.


The building is somewhat dwarfed by the adjacent Greenwich Power station, although a little less so than when the latter was built in the early 1900s, as following objections from the Observatory the chimneys were lowered by around 20 metres.


Of the original 20 ‘Poor Men’ (plus a warden) 8 came from Shotesham in Norfolk, where the Earl of Northampton was born, and 12 from Greenwich.

The hospital was not open to everyone, there were strict guidelines about the suitability of ‘Poor Men’ to live there, including being at least 56 years old, not being a beggar, drunkard or ‘whore hunter’ and an ability to recite the Lord’s Prayer unaided.


While the environment is now a little more relaxed, the original ‘Poor Men’ lived a very regimented lifestyle,

6 am (8 am in winter): rise, dress and say prayers.

9 am: service in the chapel (or St Alfege Church, presumably the medieval one rather than that designed by Hawksmoor, on Wednesday and Friday).

Until 11 am: Free time (although they were expected to do gardening and housework)

11 am: Lunch in the hall

3 pm: Church or chapel service, followed by ‘free time’ (‘weekly correction’ on Saturday).

6 pm: Supper in the hall.

9 pm: Retire to bed

There were also a series of ‘orders’ about acceptable behaviour issued by the Warden many of which were displayed in the cloisters when I visited – ranging in subject from forbidding the ‘Poor Men’ from going to ale houses and the like, wiping feet and when gates should be closed.


Interestingly, the ‘Poor Men’ had a voice in key changes at the Hospital – 10 of them (along with two Senior Wardens from the Mercers Company) needed to agree to any decision involving use of the seal in relation to ‘any lease, grant or other writing whatsoever concerning the estate of the hospital.’

Trinity Hospital is only open once a year, as part of London Open House, and for the last few years just on the Saturday, it is well worth a visit though.

The Hidden Waterways of Greenwich Park

One of the more noticeable features in and around Greenwich Park is a series of (mainly red) brick structures which are clearly several hundred years old – the biggest and most obvious being a large windowless chapel-like building on the western side of the Park at the bottom of the escarpment, close to Crooms Hill.

They are all the external remains of a system of conduits, underground tunnels, which brought fresh water from Blackheath to the Royal Hospital for Seamen at Greenwich.  While there seem to have been earlier conduits for the former Royal Palace (that was previously on the same site), the visible remains date from the late 17th and early 18th centuries.  It has been suggested by Per von Scheibner, that there are at least 12 conduits from this era around Greenwich – although some of these may have fallen into disuse quite soon after construction.  There are elements of three that are clearly visible in the Park.



The chapel-like structure is the most obvious element and has a plaque describing it as “Greenwich Hospital Standard Reservoir” and is Grade 2* Listed.  It is generally known as the Standard Reservoir and was probably designed by Nicholas Hawksmoor, who was Deputy Surveyor of Works in Greenwich at the time – he is better known for churches like St Alfege in Greenwich and St George in the East.


The other end of the conduit is to the south-west of the Park on the edge of Blackheath – Conduit Head which is on the corner of Hyde Vale (originally known as Conduit Vale) and West Grove.  The information panels at the semi-cylindrical Head and the surface brickwork that feeds it date it from around 1710.  The conduit would have taken water to the Standard Reservoir.  To confuse matters there is another conduit, the Standard Conduit, which also had a small reservoir, immediately above Hawksmoor’s building.


Both of these are marked on the 25” OS 1st  edition map, surveyed in 1867, along with rows of trees either side of them known as  Conduit Avenue – the avenue extended from around where the Rose Garden is currently situated to the bottom of the Park, close to the herb garden – it is very clear below the escarpment.


From the middle of the escarpment down, along the course of Conduit Avenue, there are a series of other signs that indicate the presence of conduits – several bits of raised brickwork and a number of otherwise unexplained manholes.


In the centre of the Park, close to Queen Elizabeth’s Oak, there is an exposed stonework gulley, which looks very similar to that on the edge of the heath, and is a remaining part of another arm of the conduit system in the Park.   Just below it and a little further down the hill are undoubtedly some other remains – a bit of pipework on the surface, a number of manhole covers and some earthworks around the final manhole – perhaps there used to be a conduit arch there.  Above the exposed stonework, there was probably a small pond or reservoir – there is small, flattened area, carved into the top of the escarpment – similar to those on the flanks of One Tree Hill which we’ll now move on to.


To the west of the Park there is a conduit arch at the foot of One Tree Hill which is thought to have been built in 1705, probably by Hawksmoor.   The tunnels behind it were found to be inaccessible when surveyed in the mid -1990s; however Subterranean Greenwich managed to gain access, with some great photos.  There were certainly more visible above ground remains in the 19th century – OS Map surveyors noted ‘water receivers’ to the east of the arch on the 1867 surveyed 25” map.



A little lower down the hill, nearer to Maze Hill, used to be a pond that was part of the conduit system – the location though is obvious on the ground – a flatter area, banked at the bottom carved out of the lower slopes of the Park.

There are other possible signs of the remains of the conduits in same area – around the eastern flanks of One Tree Hill there is what looks like a slightly raised track going up the hill (which has a couple of manhole covers), toward the top of which it has clearly been flattened out – perhaps there was originally another pond or open reservoir here.  It would certainly have been in the right area based on a map found by Subterranean Greenwich – more on them later.

The tunnels themselves are

built of brick, and are generally about 4 to 6 feet high and about 2 feet to 4 feet wide and generally run between mere inches to some thirty feet or more below ground level. At the top is a rounded or Gothic arch. At the bottom of the conduit walls are gaps in the brickwork to allow water to feed into the conduit.

The conduit system largely stopped being used when the now redundant reservoir was constructed between 1841 and 1844 close to Great Cross Avenue on the western side of the Park.   As a result many of the conduit heads and other above ground evidence was demolished in the second half of the 19th century.

There is a fascinating resource with an enormous amount of information on many of the things covered in this post and on all things below the surface in SE10 and slightly beyond – Subterranean Greenwich (which migrated to WordPress earlier in the year).  This covers the conduits in much more detail, including a lot of the underground aspects of them.


Tom Cook, The Greenwich Cowboy – a Victorian Running ‘Pedestrian’

Tom Cook was one of the journeyman professionals of the running branch of pedestrianism in the 1840s.  Other than his nickname, ‘Greenwich Cowboy’ and the tales of his races, little is known about him.  There was a Thomas Cook from Norfolk who lived in East Greenwich in the 1851 census who would fall roughly in the right age group but his ‘trade’ was different, so it may well not be him. However, his name regularly appeared in the sporting pages of the 1840s and early 1850s with a career that seems to have started, although is not reported at the time, around 1839 and carried on until at least 1853.

Pedestrianism had developed in the 18th century – initially it seems as walking but one branch had evolved into professional running where the competitors offered challenges to one another over particular distances, sometimes with a handicap.

The amounts raced for were considerable – £20 in 1850, at current prices, this is worth in the region of £64,000, although much of the money would probably have been made by the wealthy backers of the pedestrians, rather than the athletes themselves.

The athletes themselves will have earned a fraction of the sums staked, and, without modern methods of training, shoes, clothing and physiotherapy it was probably a precarious occupation.  The pedestrians all seemed to have nicknames.

The first that is heard of Cook was in early 1843 whether another runner, Maxwell, forfeited his initial stake to the ‘Greenwich Cowboy’, presumably being unable to run (1).  The early reports were all notices of races rather than reports – he was meant to race Blackheath’s Gazeley over 10 miles from Dartford to Blackheath in April 1843 for 10 Sovereigns, but had to forfeit (2).

In June 1843 he had his first press report, a victory over Peter Murphy, over 10 miles from the (Old) Tiger’s Head at Lee, over a mile course on the main road – seemingly from Lee Green to around what is now Eltham Green along Eltham Road – winning comfortably.  Oddly his opponent had two names, depending on the report ‘Temperance’s Romani’ (3) or ‘Manchester Pet’ (4).


During 1844 he was challenged, amongst others, by Richard Manks, the ‘Warwickshire Antelope’, over distances of 1 mile or more for 5 – 25 sovereigns in July 1844 (5). He beat Ned Wilde (Merrylegs) ‘with great ease’ for 10 sovereigns after being given a 40 seconds at the Rosemary Branch in Peckham (6).  The Rosemary Branch was a pub, which stayed open until 1971, and, like the Tiger’s Head at Lee Green promoted a wide variety of sports – more on that in the blog another day.

1845 saw bigger stakes – beating James Openshaw of Bury for £25 over both 4 and 10 miles, presumably in the same race; (7) there was heavy betting on the race in front of a large crowd at the Rosemary Branch (8).

While his career continued, there are fewer reports, 1846 saw his first reported defeat – over 2 miles at Lee Green to James Byron – losing by nearly 100 yards (9).  He was challenged over 2 miles by a Lewisham runner, ‘Pirrian’s Novice’, over a mile in 1848 (10) and beat a runner called Dawkins over 2 miles at Smitham Bottom in Purley in 1849 – being described as ‘the old boy’(11).

His career was probably on the wane though, defeats were much more common. He lost to Bull at the Rosemary Brach in 1850 for a massive £40 stake (12)


By the 1850s age seems to have been catching up with him, while he still had his backers for wagers of up to £40 there were a lot more defeats reported – losing twice to Thomas Birkhead, before beating him over 10 miles in Sheffield in late 1852 (13).  Then losing to the ‘Warwickshire Antelope’ in Barking at Easter 1853 over 10 miles (14)

His last known race of what seems to have been a career spanning around 15 years was a failed attempt to run 20 miles in 2 hours in early August 1853 – he completed the first 5 miles in 28 minutes, but it appears he had gone off too quickly as while he was recorded at 59:07 for 10 miles he was slowing down and got into difficulties quite soon after and gave up during the 12th mile (15).

With the advantage of modern training methods and kit, only 81 British runners ran under 2 hours for 20 miles in 2014, and the time at 10 miles was only bettered by 350 in 2014.

As the identity of Cook is uncertain, we cannot be sure what happened to him after his athletic career was over.  If, and it is a big ‘if’, he was the Thomas Cook from the 1851 census, he  lived at 8 Enderby Cottages in East Greenwich and was listed as a ‘watchman.’ If it was him, he was having to take a second job to make ends meet as his career waned.  That Cook was married to Jemima who was originally from Gravesend, just down the river in Kent.  There is no record of either of them after 1851. According to the excellent Greenwich Peninsula History site, Enderby Cottages were at the end of Blackwall Lane, and had been built for rope makers at the Enderby Works; one of the other occupants of number 8 was indeed a ropemaker.


  1. The Era (London, England), Sunday, February 5, 1843; Issue 228.
  2. The Era (London, England), Sunday, April 9, 1843; Issue 237.
  3. The Era (London, England), Sunday, 11 June, 1843; Issue 246.
  4. The Morning Post (London, England), Saturday, June 10, 1843; pg. 5; Issue 22588, the picture of the Tiger’s Head is from the information board at Lee Green
  5. The Era (London, England), Sunday, July 14, 1844; Issue 303.
  6. The Era (London, England), Sunday, November 10, 1844; Issue 320
  7. Lloyd’s Weekly London Newspaper (London, England), Sunday, July 6, 1845; Issue 137.
  8. The Era (London, England), Sunday, July 6, 1845; Issue 354
  9. The Era (London, England), Sunday, January 18, 1846; Issue 382
  10. The Era (London, England), Sunday, March 12, 1848; Issue 494
  11. Lloyd’s Weekly Newspaper (London, England), Sunday, November 25, 1849; Issue 366.
  12. The Era (London, England), Sunday, April 28, 1850; Issue 605, the other picture is not of Cook but is illustrative and is another 19th century pedestrian – source
  13. The Era (London, England), Sunday, January 2, 1853; Issue 745
  14. The Era (London, England), Sunday, April 3, 1853; Issue 758
  15. The Era (London, England), Sunday, August 7, 1853; Issue 776