The large bus parked at the top of the Theatre & Circus fields doesn’t look out of place in Glastonbury’s landscape of stages and attractions. Go to the South East corner and you’ll find a bus converted into a stage and a decommissioned London Underground carriage transformed for the same purpose. But the bus overlooking Glastonbury here has a story attached to it – it feels monumental that this piece of history sits so unassumingly as people wander past or stop to read the information stands outside its doors before climbing the steps to take a look inside.
The bus, you see, was part of a 140-vehicle peace convoy that was travelling to Stonehenge on 1 June 1985, with the installation marking the 40th anniversary of events. Seven miles away from its destination, the convoy was violently intercepted by police. Around six hundred new age travellers – men, women and children – who had been intending to set up Stonehenge Free Festival found themselves instead caught in violent clashes with 1,300 police who arrested 537 travellers. It was the largest mass arrest of civilians in a single day in British history and became known as the Battle of the Beanfield, as many in the convoy attempted to find shelter from the onslaught by turning into a bean field, where police continued to pursue them.
16 new age travellers were hospitalised as a result of the clashes, which is considered some of the worst police violence ever experienced on British soil. One police sergeant was later found guilty of Actual Bodily Harm as a result of their actions, and, in 1991, 21 of the travellers were awarded damages for false imprisonment, damage to property and wrongful arrest. The events inspired the Carhenge installation by underground artist Joe Rush, which first appeared at the 1987 Glastonbury festival and which returned in 2023 and sits in the next field across from Theatre & Circus.
The bus is in remarkably good condition for its age. At the time of the Battle of the Beanfield, it was home to a man called Fred who ran the ‘Golden Moon Cafe’ out of it, travelling across England and Europe. Inside, its floor is made up of long slats of wood, its green painted walls peeling from the roof panels to expose the metal underneath. Without seats, it’s an incredibly spacious vehicle, which would have been a necessity when acting as both a home and a small business.
You realise how frightening it would have been for the travellers to be set upon, not just because of the violence but because of where it happened. The buses that made up the convoy were people’s homes – places of safety and comfort. In the battle, police used ‘thrashing’ techniques – smashing windows and trampling belongings. A quote in the exhibition details how one person’s mother went to collect their bus from the pound: “It was all smashed up and meaningless.”
There are images and text inside the bus further explaining the context and providing a look back at what it was like and the lasting impact as people lost homes, belongings and pets, and bore mental and physical scars for decades to come, as well as the impact of continuing discrimination against nomadic people and traveller communities. You can almost feel the history of it as you stand in this monument.
