Anthony Cross is deeply passionate about two things – Admiral Horatio Lord Nelson and Greenwich. The two, he says, are inextricably linked, and frankly what he doesn’t know about them can be written on the back of a very small postage stamp. We’re speaking in a tiny room high above the Warwick Leadlay Gallery, off the market. It’s filled with an ocean of Nelsoniana, including prints, engravings, books and artefacts. We could be in the 18th century – it’s easy to imagine Nelson walking, deep in thought, across the creaking wooden floor. Cross, a good-looking man with a grey buzz- cut, is considerably taller than his hero. He has a yearning, I later find, to chat while smoking his pipe outside, which makes him look suitably sea- doggish. For now, we’re discussing the gallery’s latest ‘old’ poster, a new presentation of a vintage theme which proudly declares: ‘Greenwich – an emporium of shrimps, a reservoir of beer!’ “It’s from the late 1870s, a book called The Sea: Its Stirring Story of Adventure by Frederick Whymper. And he quotes the phrase which best describes Greenwich.” Sounds like Brighton, I say. And would the shrimps be shipped in? They wouldn’t get them from the Thames, surely? “I don’t know. They got their whitebait from it. And as for the phrase – well, that’s Greenwich,


certainly. It’s London’s seaside – it was then and, to an extent, it still is.” And if Greenwich means the sea, that


explains why, to Cross, Nelson and this place are synonymous. “It goes back to when Nelson died at Trafalgar in October 1805. His body is brought home, and is landed at Greenwich on Christmas Eve. In January 1806, he lies in state for three days in the Painted Hall, and tens of thousands come to pay their respects.” Having read up on this, I realise that what


Nelson received was sheer adulation and hero- worship. Handsome, brave and talented, he was the rock star or David Beckham of his day. Cross smiles. “Absolutely.”


History comes to life Cross wasn’t born in Greenwich, but in Stratford, Warwickshire – “about as far from the sea as you can get in this country”. He studied history at York university, and there met a girl, Sarah, who was from Blackheath. “She introduced me to Greenwich,” he says. “I first came here, I suppose, in about 1978, so I’d be 23. It was a summer evening, and we had a pint in the Coach and Horses in the market. And I sat there and soaked up an atmosphere which seemed tangible.” He’s almost misty-eyed. “I loved history, was quite sensitive to it, and I knew this was a special place. What I say these days is you have to be careful where you put your foot in Greenwich, because you’ll tread on history.” After graduating, Cross followed Sarah (who he would one day marry) to London. “And in The Mercury I saw a little box advertisement. It read ‘artistically talented young man’ – because you could say that in those days – ‘wanted for work in gallery’. I thought, ‘that’ll pay the rent, and one day I’ll get a proper job’.” He smirks. “Which day I’m still fending off.”


The ad, of course, was posted by Warwick Leadlay himself. “The next week, I’m standing with a broom in my hand, sweeping Warwick’s gallery.” He grins. “And I was completely happy.” For several reasons. Cross loved the antique maps and drawings on the walls – “a visualisation of history”. He enjoyed the practical craftsmanship of picture framing in the workshop. And Leadlay turned out to be an excellent employer. “He was benevolent and understanding. He took me on as a callow youth, taught me the business – and eventually presented it to me [on Leadlay’s retirement, Cross became director].” Cross knew about Nelson, and that he was “part of the fabric of Greenwich – Nelson Road,


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