An 18th-century anti-terrorist campaign has many modern parallels, writes Illtyd Harrington

Is there someone walking around Camden with a suitcase bomb containing an unprimed nuclear weapon?
Experts say it is a possible scenario. While lesser beings in pubs or driving taxis are loud, if not over-articulate, in their repressive and instant views. My old and affable friend Charles Clarke, the home secretary, is a stout figure seemingly justifying imprisonment without charge to defend our lives and liberty. Belmarsh Prison in south London is a well-regulated Bastille.
These are strange times, but the war against terror puts us on red alert and only the judiciary seems to be concerned about civil liberties.
So this timely and riveting tale of Britain’s first terrorist should cause us to caution not over-react. Here is his case. James Aitken was born in Edinburgh in 1752, one of 12 children and was educated at Heriot’s school. At 14 he became an apprentice to a housepainter which he completed in 1772. After this he immediately began his five years of his itinerant life throughout Britain and elsewhere, learning the trades of burglary, petty larceny and, as he got to London, a sometime highwayman, once on Hampstead Heath. Under numerous aliases, his picaresque life gathered strength.

Next time you are having a pint in your local boozer take a good look at your surroundings – before they disappear forever writes Dan Carrier

IT WAS a dirty job, but some one had to do it. English Heritage, recognising the publican’s latest craze for ripping out interiors and covering every thing with chrome and zinc, wanted a survey of London pubs.
They aimed to get those with historic interiors listed before they were lost to the brewery branded vertical drinking brigades that have taken over our high streets.