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Philip Cunningham’s Mile End Place

December 8, 2016
by the gentle author

Mrs Johnson walks past 19 Mile End Place

Whenever I walk down the Mile End Rd, I always take a moment to step in through the archway and visit Mile End Place. This tiny enclave of early nineteenth century cottages sandwiched between the Velho and the Alderney Cemeteries harbours a quiet atmosphere that recalls an earlier, more rural East End and I have become intrigued to discover its history. So I was fascinated when Philip Cunningham sent me his pictures of Mile End Place from the seventies together with this poignant account of an unspoken grief from the First World War, still lingering more than fifty years later, which he encountered unexpectedly when he moved into his great-grandparents’ house.

“In 1971, my girlfriend – Sally – & I moved from East Dulwich to Mile End Place. It was number 19, the house where my maternal grandfather – Jack – had been born into a family of nine, and we purchased it from my grandfather’s nephew Denny Witt. The house was very cheap because it was on the slum clearance list but it was a lot better than the rooms we had been living in, even with an outside toilet and no bath.

There were just two small bedrooms upstairs and two small rooms downstairs. In my grandfather’s time, the front room was kept immaculate in case there might be a visitor and the sleeping was segregated, until Uncle Harry came back from the Boer War when he was not allowed to sleep with the other boys. For reasons left unexplained, he was banished to the front room and told he had better get married sharpish – which he did.

I first met my neighbour Mrs Johnson when gardening in the front of the house. I said ‘Morning,’ but there came no reply.‘What a nasty woman’ I thought, yet worse was to come. Mrs Johnson lived at the end of the street and two doors away lived a vague relative of hers who was married to an alcoholic. ‘She picked ‘im up in Jersey,’ I was told. He drank half bottles of whisky and rum, and threw the empties into the graveyard at the back of our houses – sometimes when they were half full.

I would often go to our outside toilet in socks and, on one occasion, nearly stepped upon pieces of broken glass that had been thrown into our backyard. At first, I assumed it was Paul – the graveyard keeper – and went straight round to his house in Alderney St. I nearly knocked his door down and was ready to flatten him, until he became very apologetic and explained that Mrs Johnson had told him we were students and always having parties. True in the first count, lies in the second. Mrs Johnson knew quite well who the culprit was, as did the everyone else in street. I was still angry, so I threw the glass back where it came from  – which must have been a real chore to clear up on the other side

Sometime after all these events, Jane Plumtree – a barrister – moved into the street. She said ‘We must have street parties!’ and so we did. At the first of these, the longest established families in the street all had to sit together and – unfortunately – I was sat next to Mrs Johnson. She hissed and fumed, and turned her back on me as much as she could, until suddenly she turned to face me and said, ‘I knew your grandfather J-a–c—k, he came b-a–c—k!’ She spat the words out. I did not know what she was talking about so I just said, ‘Yes, he was a drayman.’

Later, I reported it over the phone to my Auntie Ethel. ‘Oh yes,’ she explained, ‘Mrs Johnson had three brothers and, when the First World War broke out, they thought it was going to be a splendid jolly. They signed up at once, even though two were under-age, and they were all dead in three months.’ Unlike my grandfather Jack, who came back.

Jack was married and living in Ewing St with his five children, but he was called up immediately war was declared because had been in the Territorial Army. He was present at almost every major piece of action throughout the First World War and, at some point, while driving an ammunition lorry, he got into the back and rolled a cigarette when there was no one around. He got caught and was sentenced to be shot, but – fortunately – someone piped up and declared they did not have enough drivers, so his punishment was reduced to six weeks loss of pay, which made my grandmother – to whom the money was due – furious!

When Jack and the other troops with him came under fire in a French village, he and an Irish soldier broke into a music shop for cover. On the wall was a silver trumpet which Jack grabbed at once, but his Irish companion grabbed the mouthpiece and would not let Jack have it unless he went into the street, amid the falling shells, to play. Reluctantly, Jack did this – playing extremely fast – and he brought the trumpet home with him to the East End.”

19 Mile End Place

Philip’s grandfather Jack was born at 19 Mile End Place

View from 19 Mile End Place

Philip purchased 19 Mile End Place from his cousin Danny Witt, photographed during World War II

Outside toilet at 19 Mile End Place

Backyard at 19 Mile End Place

View towards the Alderney Cemetery with the keeper’s house in the distance

Paul Campkin, the Cemetery Keeper

The Alderney Cemetery

Looking out towards Mile End Rd

Entrance to Mile End Place from Mile End Rd

Photographs copyright © Philip Cunningham

You may also like to read about

The Mile End Place Mulberry

At the Velho & Alderney Cemeteries

14 Responses leave one →
  1. December 8, 2016

    What vivid stories. Especially poor Mrs Johnson.

  2. Sally permalink
    December 8, 2016

    Dear Gentle Author

    I love to receive your daily blog. I love it even more when it refers to a place which I know intimately.

    The pace of change in our area is fast moving. Some of the developments are positive and some not so much.

    Tower Hamlets Council are in receipt of another planning application for a structure to go above the shop at the entrance to Mile End Place which will take it to three stories high, with a terrace on the top which will overlook the street.

    If your readers feel minded to view comment on this development, you will find the planning application number at PA/16/03305.

  3. December 8, 2016

    Oh My! Appreciate the vivid narratives from Philip C. The outside toilet image reminded me of my childhood… … and I’m sure there must’ve been a tin bath hanging somewhere on the wall. I would have loved to have roamed East End enclaves in the early nineteenth & twentieth centuries.

  4. Anne permalink
    December 8, 2016

    We still have a street party every year in Mile End Place !

  5. David permalink
    December 9, 2016

    Is Phil the ‘photographer’ whoused to have a beard in the 70s/80s, and had a sort of veranda/patio overlooking the cemetery?

    And was Mrs Johnson the poor old dear who was always being burgled and who constantly complained about the cemetery trees next to her house?

  6. December 11, 2016

    Lovely article & great to see Phil’s photos.

  7. Greg Tingey permalink
    December 12, 2016

    The Sekforde has closed?
    You what?
    It was always bustling |&busy.
    I presume short-term greed & stupidity for “development” are to blame?

  8. Amanda Marsan permalink
    September 21, 2017

    My family and I lived at 11 Ewing Street from the early 60s to the early 70s. We shared it and rented three rooms upstairs.

  9. July 29, 2019

    Would like to get a message to Phil! Spent some time with him and Sally and Andrea, some time long ago. Homerton House, Mile End Road, pubs and etc. Set up my son Reuben with an enlarger, took photos in Yorkshire..Password,,,jai bangla or an approximation of the same! Ask him to see my website for my origins in the East End. Ask him to get in touch.

  10. Eric Forward permalink
    October 27, 2019

    Just came across this older post in the links from a recent one. Good to know I’m not the only one who likes to pop in this street. I live fairly local (in Stepney Green) and feel like walking under that passage is a little bit like walking through a time machine. The street is seeing elements of modernisation with various developments, but still largely retains it period feel. I love the quick walk up & down it but also feel a bit self conscious about intruding on people’s privacy. Maybe that says something about the essence of the street, or maybe it says more about my insecurities. It was also curious seeing a fairly recent post that identified a very young Eddie Marsan in this very street. I wasn’t aware he was a Stepney Green boy but great to show he went from playing in the East End to acting in Hollywood. That’s probably another thing I love about this street and the East End in general, you can feel the layers of history and stories. So many people have crossed paths through this relatively small geography.

  11. Derek England permalink
    April 19, 2022

    Any chance of getting the place a conservation order?

  12. Tania Hackett ( was Eagland) permalink
    August 28, 2022

    My family and I lived at 2 Ewing street @ 1964-1970. No bathroom and an outside loo. It was a large victorian(?) house. My sister brother and I shared a large bedroom The house was compulsory purchased and knocked down to make a park(?)
    We went to Ben Johnson school and a Sunday school.

  13. Heather Naqvi permalink
    December 14, 2022

    Fascinating pictures. I knew the owner of the Hair shop at the entrance, on Mile End Road. He told me once that he was offered all the houses in Mile End Place for £18,000 – he declined!

  14. Tanya permalink
    January 15, 2024

    Great post.
    Loved living in Mile End Place. Emily and Ian lived at No19 when I was there. The street was full of characters, a tight little community and our street parties were the stuff of legend!

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