Battle For Brick Lane, 1978
Click here to book THE GENTLE AUTHOR’S TOURS for June & July

The march behind Altab Ali’s coffin from Whitechapel to Hyde Park, 14th May 1978
A new exhibition opens tomorrow of Paul Trevor‘s photography documenting the rise of protest in the East End after the racist murder of Altab Ali in 1978. This is the culmination of an oral history project to gather testimonies of participants as a complement to the photographs. We publish excerpts from some of these interviews below.
BRICK LANE 1978, THE TURNING POINT runs at Four Corners until 10th September

Anti-Racist Committee of Asians in East London, Commercial Rd June 1976

Anti-Racist Committee of Asians in East London, Whitechapel Rd June 1976
‘Every time there was a lot of people get beaten up… At that time people after six o’clock, nobody goes out from home, everybody from work once they come in they stay in, they don’t go out at all. They’re scared and all these things. Then I and a few others from the anti-racist committee go around in the evening looking for this and that. We go out patrolling wherever the Bengali people live and that’s what we used to do.’
Mohammed Gulan Ehiya (nickname ‘Khasru) – He is in the photograph wearing a checked suit

Sit down protest outside Bethnal Green Rd Police Station, 17th July 1978
‘This is something that I need to say, that a lot of our friends were arrested instead of racist people. You know our community were arrested, a lot of our Anti-Nazi League friends were arrested, a lot of Bangladeshi friends. I was not arrested, but my friends were arrested a few times. And we went to the magistrate’s court outside trying to get them released without any charge. And this is something that, you know, will reflect you on your history that you know, police were not very friendly to the Bangladeshi community for some reason, I don’t know. Is it perhaps I must say this was part of institutionalised racism and this is where I think the thugs, you know the National Front, felt proud that institutions like the police were supporting them.’
Syed Mizan

Bangladesh Youth Movement Against Racism, Brick Lane 17th July 1978

Brick Lane, September 1978

Hackney & Tower Hamlets Defence Committee Ant-Nazi League, 20th August 1978
‘It was very frightening to be very honest. My father warned me to be cautious of my safety because of the attacks on the streets of East London. People were mostly attacked at night. They were found walking alone coming or going to work because my father says to be careful about the skinheads, the racial abuse, these sort of things they do, you know.’
Jamal Miah – Jamal is the central figure in this photograph

Rally in Hyde Park by the Action Committee Against Racial Attacks after the march of Altab Ali’s coffin from Whitechapel, 14th May 1978
‘The day Altab Ali was murdered, I was in Brick Lane, and somebody says ‘There’s fighting going on the other side of Brick Lane’. I was at one of my friend’s factories. We see some fascists. So we run and, and we went near the park. I seen a lot of people and the police and the ambulance is there. And I didn’t know Altab Ali, I seen he was lying on the floor. And you know, he died at that point. We only watch his body lying on the ground surrounded by police. Well, it could have been me. I’ve been attacked twice on the street. Thank God and I’m alive. You know?’
Jamal Miah

Altab Ali’s coffin departs from Hyde Park to Downing St, 14th May 1978

St Mary’s Park (now Altab Ali Park), Whitechapel Rd
‘I think it was on a Sunday, one of the Sundays but I’m not sure and it was raining and then very muddy. Raining, because I got wet. And I don’t use the umbrella that I used to have. When I came to this country I used to use an umbrella. On days when snowing, raining I don’t know how many umbrellas I lost and all the things that then I give up, like using an umbrella.’
Mohammed Gulan Ehiya remembering after the march to Downing St
Photographs copyright © Paul Trevor
You may also like to look at
Viscountess Boudica For The Ukraine!
Click here to book THE GENTLE AUTHOR’S TOURS for June & July

Inspired by the example of her illustrious namesake in standing up for oppressed people, our beloved Viscountess Boudica has written a candid illustrated memoir of her life with Guido Fawkes, the gunpowder plotter, with all thirty copies to be sold in aid of the Ukraine. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance to acquire a unique historic document signed by the author and Guido Fawkes for only £20.
Buy a copy of MY PAST LIFE & PRESENT LIFE WITH HUSBAND GUIDO FAWKES

Viscountess Boudica at her new home in Uttoxeter

Boudica with her Gunpowder Plot friends

Boudica and Guido enjoy spring in Uttoxeter

At the Pound Shop with the Gunpowder Plotters

Viscountess Boudica at a banquet with illustrious friends

In the kitchen with Henry VIII

Date night at the ale house with Guido Fawkes

Gunpowder Plotters join Uttoxeter Public Library

Viscountess Boudica and the Gunpowder Plotters visit York, birthplace of Guido Fawkes


Photographs copyright © Viscountess Boudica
Be sure to follow Viscountess Boudica’s blog There’s More To Life Than Heaven & Earth
Take a look at
The Departure of Viscountess Boudica
Viscountess Boudica’s Domestic Appliances
Viscountess Boudica’s Halloween
Viscountess Boudica’s Christmas
Viscountess Boudica’s Valentine’s Day
Viscountess Boudica’s St Patrick’s Day
Read my original profile of Mark Petty, Trendsetter
and take a look at Mark Petty’s Multicoloured Coats
Mark Petty returns to Brick Lane
At Mavis Bullwinkle’s Birthday Party
Click here to book THE GENTLE AUTHOR’S TOURS for June & July

Mavis at Dennis Severs’ House
The Spitalfields Trust hosted a ninetieth birthday party for Mavis Bullwinkle in the Drawing Room at Dennis Severs’ House recently. Contributing Photographer Sarah Ainslie & I were privileged to join such a prestigious gathering of old friends in honour of one of Spitalfields’ most senior residents.
Sharp as a blade and glowing with vitality, Mavis embodied effortless nonagenarian glamor in a ruffle-necked blouse made for the occasion by her niece, complemented by a vintage skirt from Spitalfields Market embellished with scenes of London. Cocktail sandwiches were taken followed by a delicate sponge cake layered with fruit and fresh cream baked by Ai Murata.
Beginning the tributes, ‘Mavis is our queen,’ announced Pauline Causton, ‘without failure she makes me laugh.’
‘I was born here, but most people who come recently play a competition about how long they have been here. Those who came in the seventies will be sniffy with someone who came in 1985. It’s a little bit silly, but I must admit I play his game myself. Mavis never does, which is remarkable because she has been here forever.’
‘I remember, just a few years ago,’ recalled Vanessa Saward with a wry smile of recognition, ‘Mavis was having cappuccino with us after church, when we got talking with a couple who had attended church but were not from this part of London. This gentleman turned to Mavis and asked ‘And how long have you been living in Spitalfields?’ Mavis took a deep breath, looked at him straight between the eyes and announced, ‘Eighty-six years!’ We all clapped.’
‘Mavis is from Spitalfields, she was born here, and thank God she was!’ declared Pauline to universal affectionate applause.

Mavis’ birthday cake

In the Drawing Room at Dennis Severs’ House


Mavis arrives at her birthday party

Mavis greets Martin Lane

Fay Cattini shows Mavis her card from The Gentle Author

Mavis, Fay Cattini, Geena Hamo and Vanessa Saward

Marianna Kennedy chats with Vanessa Saward

John Dewhurst, Jacqueline and Pauline Causton

Martin Lane chats with Jan Dewhurst

High jinks and hilarity ensue

Mavis counts her blessings

Mavis’ blouse was made by her niece, worn with a vintage skirt from Spitalfields Market

Mavis, radiant on her ninetieth birthday

Mavis blows out her candle and makes a wish

Mavis cuts her cake

Large slices of cake for everyone

Mavis is congratulated by Claudia Suckling and Heloise Palin, Administrators of the Spitalfields Trust

Mavis shares a joke with Marie Harper, Housekeeper at Dennis’ Severs House

Mavis and Fay Cattini

Mavis and Pauline Causton

Mavis and Martin Lane

Photographs copyright © Sarah Ainslie
You may also like to read about
Carters Steam Fair For Sale
Bookings are open for THE GENTLE AUTHOR’S TOUR until the end of July

Learning the sad news that 2022 is to be the final season for Carters Steam Fair led me to recall when photographer Colin O’Brien & I went along to meet Anna Carter, who started the fair with her husband John more than forty years ago and runs it today with her sons and their families. Now it is up for sale and maybe somebody reading this would like to buy it? Britain’s only vintage steam-powered fair, Carters is a national treasure containing a magnificent array of traditional fairground rides of historic importance all in full working order.
Colin & I discovered the fair already set up on the grass in Victoria Park waiting for the crowds to arrive and resembling your dream of what a fairground should be – immaculately cared for, dripping with light bulbs and garnished with flamboyant lettering, and every surface shining with neat paintwork in the dominant colours of butter and oxblood. The rides were arranged around the enormous merry-go-round which is the proud centrepiece, while splendid vintage lorries in tip top condition stood between the gleaming attractions and, at the fringes of the encampment, we found the personal caravans of the Carter family.
When we arrived, Anna was holding court at a council meeting of her extended family, like a general preparing for battle, but, once the conference was over, we were privileged to sit outside her old caravan with its handsome leaded windows and take tea, while she told us the story of Carters Steam Fair – a family business on a grand scale with three generations involved and travelling the country twenty-eight weeks of the year.
“My late husband collected things,” revealed Anna with spectacular understatement, when I asked her how the fair started, “he collected slot machines, horn gramophones, 78 records, enamel signs and American cars – anything interesting. And one day, we made some money and he said we could buy a house or we could buy the gallopers. So we opted for the gallopers.”
‘Gallopers’ is the proper but less-well-known term for a merry-go-round, and the gallopers in question sat across the grass from us as we sipped our tea. Swathed in a green tarpaulin concealing the decorated horses within, only the painted conical top was visible and it looked for all the world like some enormous cake, just waiting to be unwrapped. “We bought it off an amusement park in 1976 and it fell apart on the way home, “ Anna recalled fondly, “It had been built in 1895 and we even managed to buy the steam engine that had been taken off it, three miles down the road.” She and her husband restored the gallopers together, with John rebuilding the structure and mechanics and Anna recreating the authentic paint finishes.
“He was the son of a policeman and I was the daughter of a chef,” she explained, “My father had some land and used to let John hold stock car races on it. He was five years older than me and he was leaving Maidenhead College of Art when I left, so we never met then but got together later after we both had failed marriages and were divorced.” The couple had three sons together, making a family of six children including offspring from their previous marriages.
Already, John and Anna had been organising steam fairs, air shows and vintage car rallies, and it was possible to show their gallopers at these events but, within a couple of years, they acquired a chairoplane, some sideshows and juvenile rides and were doing tiny village fairs in their own right. Before long, Carters Steam Fair was playing twenty-eight different locations each summer and the routine of the travelling became established, moving each Tuesday to a new location.
It was was John’s unexpected death at fifty-eight that was the catalyst for Anna to take the running of the fair upon herself – yet by then she had grown-up sons involved. “When John died, I sat down with the boys and said what do you want to do?” she confided to me, “It was a unanimous decision that we carry on.” Today, Seth runs the dodgems, the octopus, the skid and the coconut shy, while Joby runs the gallopers, the steam yachts, the swing boats and the jungle thriller ark. “We do respect each other’s space but the grandchildren run everywhere and are little pests,” she informed me with pleasure, “when my children were young all their friends used to work in the fair, and now my children’s children’s friends work here whenever we need extra staff.”
“It’s my baby,” Anna confessed to me in summation, casting her eyes around at the magical fairground that has been the focus of her family endeavour for so many years. With extraordinary stamina and strength of personality, Anna has kept the show on the road, negotiating labyrinthine regulations and red tape. Yet as much as she is an astute hard-working business woman, Anna is a romantic in love with the romance of the fairground, and it is thanks to the vision she shared with John that Carters exists today as Britain’s last steam fair, keeping traditional rides working which would otherwise be destined for the museum or the scrapheap.
“We’re not interested in modern rides, we love the winter months when we do the restoration – there’s always something tatty and in need of repainting,” she revealed to me, “By October, you are sick of being on the road, it’s muddy and cold and you think how nice to go home – but then when spring comes you always want to go off again. This is my life and I don’t want to do anything else. It means so much to me, we live and breathe it.”
“It’s my baby”
Anna Carter with her dog, Saffy the Staffy
Photographs copyright © Estate of Colin O’Brien
You may also like to read about
Working People & A Dog
Some tickets are available for THE GENTLE AUTHOR’S TOUR on 11th & 12th June

Groundsman, E.15 (1965)
“This is the groundsman at the Memorial Ground where I played football aged ten in 1954.”
Some of my favourite people are the shopkeepers and those that do the small trades – who between them have contributed the major part to the identity of the East End over the years. And when I see their old premises redeveloped, I often think in regret, “I wish someone had gone round and taken portraits of these people who carried the spirit of the place.” So you can imagine my delight and gratitude to see this splendid set of photos and discover that during the sixties photographer John Claridge had the insight to take such pictures, exactly as I had hoped.
When John went back ten years later to the pitch near West Ham Station where he played football as a child, he found the groundsman was just as he remembered, with his cardigan and tie, and he took the photograph you see above. There is a dignified modesty to this fine portrait – a quality shared by all of those published here – expressed through a relaxed demeanour.
These subjects present themselves to John’s lens as emotionally open yet retaining possession of themselves, and this translates into a vital relationship with the viewer. To each of these people, John was one of their own kind and they were comfortable being photographed by him. And, thanks to the humanity of John’s vision, we have the privilege to become party to this intimacy today.
Kosher Butcher, E2 (1962) – “The chicken was none too happy!”
Brewery, Spitalfields (1964) Clocking in at the Truman Brewery, Brick Lane.
Lady with Gumball Machine, Spitalfields (1967) – “She came out of her kiosk and asked, ‘Will you photograph me with my gumball machine?'”
Saveloy Stall, Spitalfields (1967) – “It was a cold day, so I had two hot dogs.”
Whitechapel Bell Foundry, E1 (1982) Established in 1598, where the Liberty Bell and Big Ben were cast.
Rag & Bone Man, E13 (1961) – “Down my street in Plaistow, there were not many cars about – all you could hear was the clip-clop of the horse on the wet road.”
Shoe Repairs Closed Saturday, Spitalfields (1969) – “I asked, ‘Why are you open on Saturday?’ He replied, ‘I was just busy.'”
Spice, E1 (1976) – “Taken at a spice warehouse in Wapping. The smells were fantastic, you could smell it down the street.”
Portrait, Spitalfields (1966) – “This is a group portrait of friends outside of their shop. The two brothers who ran the shop, the lady who worked round the corner and the guy who worked in the back.”
Anglo Pak Muslim Butcher, E2 (1962)
Butchers, Spitalfields (1966) -“I had just finished taking a picture next door, when this lady came out with a joint of meat and asked me to take her photograph with it.”
Fishmongers, E1 (1966) Early morning, unloading fish from Grimsby.
Beigel Baker, E2 (1967) -“After a party at about four or five in the morning, we used to end up at Rinkoff’s in Vallance Rd for smoked salmon beigels.”
Newsagent, Spitalfields (1966) -“I said, ‘Shame about Walt Disney dying, can I take your picture next to it?’ and he said, ‘Alright.'”
Selling Shoes, Spitafields (1963) – “My dad used to tell me what his dad told him, ‘If you’ve got a good pair of shoes, you own the world.'”
Strudel, E2 (1962) – “You’ll like this, boy!’ I had just taken a photograph outside this lady’s shop. I said, ‘I think your window looks beautiful.’ and she asked me in for a slice of apple strudel. It was fantastic! But she would not accept any money, it was a gift. She said, ‘You took a picture of my shop.'”
Number 92, Spitalfields (1964)
Tubby Isaac’s, Spitalfields (1982) – “Aaahhh Tubby’s, where I’ve had many a fine eel.”
Junkyard Dog, E16 (1982) – “I was climbing over the wall into this junkyard. All was quiet, when I noticed this pair of forbidding eyes – then I made my exit.”
Photographs copyright © John Claridge
You may also like to take a look at
Along the Thames with John Claridge
DC Lew Tassell At The Silver Jubilee
Some tickets are available for THE GENTLE AUTHOR’S TOUR on 11th & 12th June
A time-travelling adventure escorted by our old friend Detective Constable Lew Tassell of the Fraud Squad, thanks to his personal photographs of the day.
“As I recall, it was dull and overcast but this did not stop crowds coming out to line the route from Buckingham Palace to St Paul’s Cathedral. As you can see from my pictures, I was situated on the south side of Fleet St at the western end. The dull weather did not help me at all, taking pictures with a manual camera and lens, especially as I used an Agfa transparency film which was very “slow.” Consequently some of my photographs are not as sharp as they might be, particularly Earl Mountbatten with Princess Margaret. The date was 7th June 1977. I was a Detective Constable during the summer of the celebrations, attending a course at the Detective Training School at Peel House in Hendon. Before going to Hendon, I spent a lot of time doing preparatory security work along the route of the procession and returned to the City for the big day.” – Lew Tassell
Spot the boys in flares sitting on the canopy
Earl Mountbatten & Princess Margaret
The Queen & Prince Philip
Detective Constable Lew Tassell of the Fraud Squad, 1977
Photographs copyright © Lew Tassell
You may also like to take a look at
On Night Patrol With Lew Tassell
On Top Of Britannic House With Lew Tassell
Royal Jubilee Bells
Some tickets are available for THE GENTLE AUTHOR’S TOUR on 11th & 12th June

If you should pass by St James Garlickhythe on a Thursday when the bellringers are practising between six-thirty and eight, you can be assured of hearing the Royal Jubilee bells echoing and resounding through the surrounding streets. As I arrived to join the ringers, the last steep-angled shafts of sunlight entered Sir Christopher Wren’s church, picking out ancient monuments from the gloom and highlighting the quaint lion and unicorn figures in their dying rays.
Ascending a narrow spiral staircase within the wall of the tower, I arrived in the tiny ringers’ chamber, whitewashed and carpeted in plum. Here the ringers stood in a ritualistic circle under the tutelage of Dickon Love, who is the Magus of bell ringing in the City of London and author of the authoritative ‘Love’s Guide to Church Bells.’
A certain shared understanding characterises these gatherings, as ringers share a common quality of implacable concentration while engaged in their task. They are concentrating on maintaining the physical task of rhythmic pulling and catching, yet remaining alert to the actions of their fellows too. Observing this activity, watching the ropes bobbing and listening to the bells overheard proved a mesmeric experience.
For me, there is magic in the sound of bells. It is music in which – to my inexperienced ear – its several instruments seem to merge and divide, even as you are aware of their sound coruscating in the air around you.
During practice, I climbed up to the floor above the bells – attired with ear protectors – to observe them in action through a metal grille. Peering from a darkened room at the brightly-lit spectacle of the vast gilt beasts wagging their long red tongues did not disappoint. At first, I was alarmed that the ancient wooden floor shifted with their vibrations, almost as if I were on a boat. Placing a hand upon the rough stonework wall confirmed that it too was moving. Yet I was assured this movement confirmed my safety – since the sheer weight of the tower ensured its stability, while the tensile quality of its timber floors and flexibility of its stone walls held together by lime mortar prevented it cracking.
After practice, Dickon took me into the belfry to admire the eight Royal Jubilee bells cast at the Whitechapel Bell Foundry at close quarters. They were first played from a barge that led the Water Pageant upon the River Thames on 2nd June 2012 before they were installed in St James Garlickhythe later that summer. As the one who conceived and oversaw the commissioning and realisation of this grand conception, Dickon is justly proud of his achievement which is recorded by the text ‘Dickon Love put us here’ upon the F Double Sharp bell. Upon our descent from the tower, Dickon revealed he was celebrating his birthday next day but also – and perhaps more importantly – he commenced his ringing career on the eve of his thirteenth birthday, making him thirty-four years a bellringer that night.
I said my farewells to the thirsty ringers at the top of Garlick Hill as they made haste to The Watling for refreshment and celebration, while I turned my own steps across the City towards Spitalfields.










You may also like to read about




































































