‘A Christmas Carol’… London Locations
As the festive season approaches, I always enjoy returning to one of my favourite Charles Dickens novels- ‘A Christmas Carol’.
First edition cover for ‘A Christmas Carol’.
During his celebrated career, Dickens wrote many Yuletide stories, including ‘A Christmas Tree’ (1850), ‘The Child’s Story’ (1852) and ‘What Christmas is as We Grow Older’ (1851).
However, A Christmas Carol; written in a matter of days and first published on the 19th December 1843, remains his seasonal masterpiece.
At its core, the tale is one of a once decent man who has gradually become corrupted by money, spurning true love in favour of a lust for all things fiscal.
Ebenezer Scrooge, as played by Sir Patrick Stewart in a 1999 adaptation.
This moral fairy-tale is spiced up with lashings of Christmassy imagery… and of course a bunch of persuasive ghosts, who guide the wretched miser towards a glorious redemption…
Original illustration depicting the Ghost of Christmas Present- paying a visit to Scrooge in his London home…
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Like the vast majority of Dickens’ novels, many of the scenes featured in A Christmas Carol are planted firmly within specific London locations.
In the opening lines, the reader is told that “Scrooge’s name was good upon ‘Change for anything he chose to put his hand to.“
‘Change‘ in this case is a shortened nickname which Victorian Londoners gave to the ‘Royal Exchange‘ the vital hub of commerce (now converted into a luxury shopping mall) which overlooks Bank Junction.
The Royal Exchange, Bank Junction- the early hub of commerce which is referred to in the opening lines of Dickens’ classic Christmas tale.
Ebenezer Scrooge’s counting house is based right in the heart of the City on an allyway off of Cornhill, moments way from the Bank of England.
Cornhill today (image: Google Streetview).
Scrooge doesn’t have to commute very far to work; his haunted house being located a short walk away at 45 Lime Street; a twisting lane linking Leadenhall and Fenchurch Street.
Lime Street today… looking far sunnier than Scrooge’s day! (image: Google Streetview).
In the story, Scrooge’s Lime Street dwelling is described as being:
“A gloomy suite of rooms, in a lowering pile of building up a yard, where it had little business to be…
The yard was so dark that even Scrooge, who knew its every stone, was fain to grope with his hands…”
It is in this sombre location that Ebenezer Scrooge has his first taste of the hauntings that are about to follow… as the ghostly face of his long-deceased partner, Jacob Marley, briefly materializes on the door knocker.
This eerie scene was wonderfully portrayed in the famed 1951 adaptation, starring the late, great Scottish actor, Alastair Sim:
Lime Street has changed considerably since Dickensian days.
Today, it is home to the towering headquarters of Lloyds Insurance; a glistening piece of architecture which was unveiled in 1986 and has been celebrated for its ultra-modern appearance ever since…
Lloyds Building, Lime Street (image: Wikipedia).
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Returning to the novel, Bob Cratchit- Scrooge’s downtrodden clerk and proud father of sickly child, Tiny Tim, lives north of the City in Camden Town.
Bob Cratchit holding his son, Tiny Tim. In ‘A Christmas Carol’, Bob and his beloved family reside in Camden…
Today of course, Camden is famed for being hip, cool and trendy; a hive of colourful markets and bustling bars.
One of Camden Market’s many tucked away corners…
In Dickens’ time however, Camden Town was a poverty-ridden slum.
The area towards the east of Camden- around Agar Grove– was especially notorious. In 1851, Dickens described the area as being:
“A complete bog of mud and filth with deep-cart ruts, wretched hovels, the doors blocked up with mud…the stench of a rainy morning is enough to knock down a bullock.”
A Victorian depiction of the Agar Town slum…
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Thankfully, there is another far more cheerful connection which Camden can claim to share with A Christmas Carol…
In 1992, ‘The Muppet Christmas Carol‘ was released in cinemas.
To the uninitiated, an adaptation of the classic tale starring Kermit the Frog and a host of muppets may sound rather unconventional.
However, the film actually does a terrific job of capturing the true spirit of Dickens’ original story; the melancholy, the spookiness, the redemption and joy.
And the link with Camden?
Well, not far from Camden High Street there runs a quiet, cobbled street called Oval Road.
From 1990 to 2005, Oval Road was home to the ‘Jim Henson Creature Shop‘; a studio in which countless muppets were lovingly created for an array of movies and TV shows.
Jim Henson’s former Muppet workshop (now converted into an apartment block) on Oval Road, Camden (image: Google Streetview).
It was in Camden therefore, that the huge cast of muppets featured in the following, uplifting clip were born! (Please note though; Sir Michael Caine is very much real!)
Merry Christmas!
Droogs About Town: London Locations Featured in ‘A Clockwork Orange’
Released in 1971 and directed by Stanley Kubrick, A Clockwork Orange was by far one of the 20th century’s most controversial films.
Poster for A Clockwork Orange
Based on Anthony Burgess’ 1962 novel of the same name (the title being inspired by the old Cockney phrase “as queer as a clockwork orange’), the story is set in a dystopian London of the near future and centres on Alex DeLarge–a sadistic youth with a passion for Beethoven- who leads his gang of ‘droogs’ through the city on nightly sprees of ultra-violent mischief.
Alex De Large stares at the camera in the film’s iconic opening shot…
After committing murder, Alex is finally locked up… but is soon offered a quick way out when he agrees to act as a guinea pig for the Ludovico Technique; a controversial brain-washing programme designed to suppresses the desire for violence (and something which caused actor Malcolm McDowell great pain and discomfort when it came to portraying these disturbing scenes).
Alex undergoing the Ludovico Technique
In Britain, thanks to high levels of upset whipped up in the press, the film version of A Clockwork Orange gained such an intense notoriety that Stanley Kubrick himself withdrew his work from circulation; a self-imposed ban which remained right up until 2000.
Stanley Kubrick
So strict was this embargo that, in 1993 when the Scala Cinema in Kings Cross attempted to screen the film, Warner Brothers took the owners to court; an action which led to the cinema going bust thanks to the immense legal costs involved.
Considering A Clockwork Orange was filmed entirely around London and the Home Counties (including areas such as Borehamwood, Kingston-Upon-Thames, Elstree, Radlett, Brunel University, Bricket Wood and Wandsworth prison) it’s rather ironic that British audiences were forbidden from viewing Kubrick’s film for so many years.
Here are some of the film’s most prominent London-based scenes:
The Chelsea Drugstore
Whilst Alex’s nights are spent committing all manner of horrific acts whilst tanked up on drug-laced milk, his days are rather more civil… devoted to indulging his love of classical music; especially that of the “lovely, lovely Ludwig Van” Beethoven.
In one of the film’s scenes, we follow Alex, decked out in his dandiest threads as he peruses his favourite record shop (click below to view):
This scene was filmed in the basement of the Chelsea Drugstore; a modern building fashioned from glass and aluminium which opened on the King’s Road in 1968.
The Chelsea Drugstore (Image: Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea)
Open 16 hours a day, 7 days a week, the Chelsea Drugstore was an avant-garde, mini shopping mall, its three floors boasting eateries, boutiques, a record shop, bar, newsagent and chemist.
It also boasted its own ‘Flying Squad’… an exclusive team of women clad in purple castsuits who were employed to make unconventional home deliveries on their fleet of motorbikes. Groovy!
Map showing the location of the former Chelsea Drugstore.
The Chelsea Drugstore was also name checked in The Rolling Stone’s 1968 hit, You Can’t Always Get What You Want.” (Speaking of The Stones, Mick Jagger was once earmarked to play Alex DeLarge in an earlier proposed adaptation of Burgess’ novel which never came to fruition…)
Although the Chelsea Drugstore ceased trading in 1971, the shops in the basement (as featured in A Clockwork Orange) remained in place until the late 1980s whilst the rest of the building became a wine bar.
Today, the building is occupied by the Chelsea branch of McDonalds.
The building which once housed the Chelsea Drugstore… now a McDonalds. (Image: Google Streetview)
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Thamesmead
Despite the inclusion of the psychedelic Chelsea Drugstore, A Clockwork Orange is mostly set against a cold, dystopian backdrop; a precedent set in Burgess’ original novel as the following excerpt, in which Alex and his gang are evading the police, atmospherically illustrates:
“Just round the next turning was an alley, dark and empty at both ends, and we rested there, panting fast then slower, then breathing like normal. It was like resting between the feet of two terrific and very enormous mountains, these being flatblocks, and in the windows of all the flats you could viddy like blue dancing light. This would be the telly. Tonight was what they called a worldcast, meaning that the same programme was being viddied by everyone in the world that wanted to… and it was all being bounced off the special telly satellites in outer space.”
In order to realise Burgess’ bleak, futuristic vision Stanley Kubrick turned to the modern, Brutalist architecture which was sprouting across London during the era in which the book and film were created; architecture which, as early as 1962, Anthony Burgess was already predicting would provide fertile ground for many unforeseen social ills.
1962 first edition for ‘A Clockwork Orange’ by Anthony Burgess
In Burgess’ novel, Alex lives in “Municipal Flatblock 18a”, a block daubed in obscene graffiti and plagued by vandalism.
To represent this domestic seediness, Kubrick took his film crew to the newly built Thamesmead Estate; a vast, sprawling development near Woolwich in South East London.
Screenshot of the Thamesmead as depicted in A Clockwork Orange…
Built on a former military site, the Thamesmead Estate, which was optimistically promoted as being the “town of the twenty-first century”, was built piecemeal between the 1960s and 1980s.
Thamesmead’s Binsey Walk, as featured in ‘A Clockwork Orange.’ (Image: Wikipedia)
One of the film’s most famous sequences takes place on Thamesmead’s Binsey Walk.
Map depicting location of Binsey Walk.
Walking alongside the man-made Southmere Lake Alex, whose leadership has just been challenged, decides to show his droogs whose really in charge (click below to view):
In recent years, the Thamesmead Estate has been used as a set for the E4 comedy, ‘Misfits‘.
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York Road Roundabout, Wandsworth
Map depicting York Road Roundabout.
One of the most notorious scenes in Kubrick’s adaptation takes place at the very beginning of the film and involves a vicious assault on a hapless down and out as he lies drunkenly in a grimy, pedestrian subway.
The scene was filmed in the warren of walkways beneath York Road roundabout, which sits at the southern foot of Wandsworth Bridge.
Typical of the architecture of the time, York Road roundabout was laid out in 1969 and was pretty much brand new when Stanley Kubrick set up his cameras.
Stanley Kubrick with Malcolm McDowell on set below York Road roundabout, 1971 (image: Stanley Kubrick Archive).
Today, the labyrinth beneath the roundabout is just as bleak and unwelcoming as it was some 40 years ago…
The subway today…
Modern Droogs? York Road Roundabout subway, November 2012…
More recently, a large atom-esque sculpture of sorts has been plonked down on the roundabout, becoming something of a local landmark.
York Road roundabout’s atom sculpture.
Apparently inspired by the 1950’s Atomium sculpture in Brussels, but kitted out with a bulky and intrusive advertising gantry, the tangle of metal doesn’t really do much to beautify the 1960s concrete…
Looking up at the gantry.
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Albert Bridge
As for the unfortunate tramp who was attacked by Alex and his droogs below Wandsworth’s grimy roundabout… don’t worry, he gets his own back…
Map of Albert Bridge
After recognising the recently released (and now, thanks to his treatment, defenceless) Alex DeLarge glumly contemplating a view of the Thames, the tramp leads his own rabble in a revenge attack on the former and now defenceless yob, right beneath Albert Bridge; one of London’s most beautiful river crossings (click below to view):
Albert Bridge… one of the more traditional sites uses in ‘A Clockwork Orange.’ (Image: Wikipedia)
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Want more on Stanley Kubrick’s London? Then check out this post: A Monolith in St Katherine Docks…
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Elegance with a Dark Side: A History of St James’s Park
London is deservedly famous for its ‘lungs’; the many parks and open spaces which can be found dotted liberally around the capital.
So prominent is this abundance of foliage that many first time visitors I meet in my taxi often comment on just how much greenery there is on show in the city.
One of the loveliest and most central of these lush areas is St James’s Park, a beautiful 90 acre site, alive with trees and wildlife, which lies sandwiched between Whitehall and Buckingham Palace.
View from the eastern side of St James’s Park which runs adjacent to Horse Guard’s Road
Grubby origins
The park gained its name from St James’s hospital; an institution which once stood on the northern edge of the present day site.
First recorded in 1267, St James’s hospital came to specialise in caring for female lepers who were given the task of raising hogs upon what was then a bleak, marshy field far from the edge of town.
Despite these humble beginnings, the hospital eventually evolved into a far grander residence- St James’s Palace.
St James’s Palace- developed from a former leper hospital and the institution which provided the neighboring park with its name. (Image: Wikipedia)
The Royals take over
It was during the reign of Henry VIII (king from 1509-1547) that the barren terrain began to evolve into a park.
Never shy of land-grabbing, the bombastic monarch took over the boggy field belonging to St James’s hospital and had it drained.
Henry VIII; the first monarch to develop St James’s park.
Once this engineering project was complete, the now solid ground was turned into an early kind of leisure complex, serving the neighbouring (and now long vanished) Whitehall Palace. The main activities played out on the newly created area were bowls and jousting.
Henry VIII depicted at a jousting bout (image: Tudor Tattler).
As well as using the park to show off his sporting prowess, Henry VIII also utilized the area as a nursery for breeding young deer… which, once mature, would be carted off to the hunting grounds of nearby Hyde Park where the unfortunate creatures would be hunted for sport. This practice was later continued by Henry VIII’s daughter, Elizabeth I.
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King James I (who ruled between 1603 and 1625) also dabbled in the park with which he shared a name.
King James I, who added an aviary and menagerie to St James’s Park (image: Glasgow University).
The Edinburgh-born monarch had formal gardens laid out and also introduced a menagerie (which, amongst other beasts, boasted two crocodiles) and an aviary- which is where Birdcage Walk, the road which runs along the park’s southern border, takes its name from.
There can be little doubt that James I’s successor, Charles I also enjoyed the delights of St James’s.
Ultimately however, the royal park played a sombre role in Charles’ politically fraught life… for it was through the park, on January 30th 1649, that King Charles I took his final stroll. His destination: the Banqueting House at Whitehall where, having been found guilty of high treason following his defeat in the English Civil War, he had an appointment with the executioner’s axe…
King Charles I, as painted by Van Dyck. (© Philip Mould, Historical Portraits Ltd, London, UK)
King Charles I took his final walk swathed in an extra layer of clothing- being a cold winter morning, he didn’t want to shiver for fear that the large crowd would mistake such shakes as a symptom of cowardice.
As he made his way through St James’s Park, the brave monarch was also accompanied by his faithful dog, Rogue who refused to leave his master’s side.
One of King Charles’ beloved dogs, taken from a portrait of the monarch’s children by Van Dyck. It is highly likely that this faithful, little spaniel regarded St James’s Park as his own terrain.
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Following the death of Charles I, Oliver Cromwell took charge.
A puritan in the very strictest sense of the word, Cromwell outlawed pretty much anything that embraced pleasure and fun- even Christmas was banned.
Consequently, St James’s Park fell into severe decline during Cromwell’s rule and, being austere times, many trees in the park were chopped down by people desperate for fuel.
It comes as no surprise therefore that when Cromwell died, the public, craving the good old days when they were allowed to indulge in booze and debauchery, seized the opportunity to bring back the monarchy.
Charles II, who had been in exile following his father’s brutal execution, was promptly invited a back; an offer which he gladly accepted.
Back in business… King Charles II
A restoration for both park and nation
Charles II was a renowned party animal; a trait no doubt boosted by the jubilation following the restoration of the monarchy.
His ability to enjoy life to the full is humorously illustrated in the following, fun clip from the BBC’s Horrible Histories series:
Having been born in St James’s Palace, Charles II no doubt held a soft-spot for the neighbouring park and it was during his relaxed reign that St James’s Park as we know it today began to take shape.
Inspired by the grand, royal gardens he’d witnessed during his time in France, Charles II introduced orchards, a broad avenue, an area for playing Paille-Maille (a French game similar to croquet) and a long stretch of water which became known as the ‘canal’.
The canal, created by King Charles II.
Charles II’s improvements resulted in the park growing by 36 acres and the playboy king could often be spotted in St James’s, walking his dogs, feeding the birds, taking a dip in the water….and courting his numerous mistresses.
Plan for redevelopment of St James’s Park, drawn up during the reign of Charles II.
Centuries later, during WWI, Charles II’s former pool was deliberately drained in order to accommodate temporary government structures- including the passport office. The lake was not filled in again until 1922.
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Feathered friends
What do you buy for a king who has everything?
Well, in 1664, the Russian ambassador came up with the answer when he presented Charles II with a very special gift for his flourishing park… a family of pelicans.
Two of the St James’s Park pelicans.
Today, some 350 years on, the descendants of these quirky regal gifts continue to breed within the park, and their huge beaks and gentle, friendly nature have made them one of St James’s most endearing sights.
Every day, between 2.30 and 3.00pm, you can see the pelicans being fed tasty fresh fish by the park keepers.
A pelican happily being stroked by a visitor during the daily feeding session.
Some time ago one of the pelicans somehow discovered that a similar feeding practice took place at London Zoo in Regent’s Park… and so would regularly fly the 2 ½ mile journey in order to pinch the grub!
This mischievous practice ended quite recently; I have a suspicion that the St James’s Park keepers had to increase the daily allowance in order to satisfy and prevent the hungry bird from straying!
St James’s Pelican huddled against the cold!
A sordid playground
Following the death of Charles II in 1685, St James’s Park once again fell into rapid decline, with the grass and plants overgrowing and the water turning stagnant.
Amongst this neglect, the park became something of a no-go area, developing into a notorious red-light district.
St James’s also became the haunt of criminal gangs- most notably the infamous Mohocks, a terrifying bunch of well-to-do young men who delighted in unleashing all manner of terror and violent assault.
One of the Mohocks’ favourite japes was to attack passing sedan chairs, running their sword through the passenger compartment in the hope that they’d impale the unfortunate traveller inside…
A Mohawk Indian chief… the tribe whom the London ‘Mohock’ gang attempted to emulate in terms of dress and supposed violence.
The debauched nature of St James’s Park during this era was evoked in a poem by John Wilmot, the 2nd Earl of Rochester.
John Wilmot, 2nd Earl of Rochester (image: Wikipedia)
Entitled A Ramble in St James’s Park, the late 17th century poem makes liberal use of foul language and smutty imagery which quite frankly, would make even the bluest of today’s 21st century comedians blush.
So offensive is the poem that it was banned from publication right up until the 1960s.
The life of John Wilmot was portrayed in the 2004 film, The Libertine with the bawdy Earl played by screen legend, Johnny Depp.
Screenshot from ‘The Libertine’… Johnny Depp, as the Earl of Rochester, wanders through St James’s Park, observing the sordid goings on…
Wishing to keep this a family site, I will refrain from quoting the poem here- it really is that nasty! If you wish to satisfy your curiosity, you’ll have to enlist Google (don’t worry; there are plenty of copies available online, but if you do choose to have a read… you have been warned, it is 24 carat filth!)
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Nineteenth century improvements
Although prostitution remained a problem for many years, the park gradually began to improve with the appointment of Lord Pomfret as park ranger.
In the 1820s gas lighting was introduced and Charles II’s now filthy lake was remodelled.
In 1814, in order to celebrate the end of war with France, a towering Chinese pagoda was erected in the middle of the park along with an ornamental bridge.
The early 19th century bridge and Pagoda in St James’s Park- note the twin towers of Westminster Abbey which can be seen in the distance towards the right hand side of the picture. (Image: British Museum)
Sadly, during the subsequent celebrations, fireworks set fire to the pagoda which burnt to the ground in an inferno even more spectacular than the intended pyrotechnics, killing a lamplighter and injuring many others.
The bridge however survived, remaining until 1825. It has since been replaced by a far plainer version.
The modern bridge which spans St James’s canal.
As for pagodas… although the St James’s model has long since gone, you can still find a magnificent Japanese example a little further south in Battersea Park- please click here to read more.
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Later in the 19th century, a little cottage was built on ‘Duck Island’ at the park’s eastern end.
Duck Island Cottage.
Modelled on a Swiss chalet (as a deliberate contrast to the nearby government blocks), the small house was originally built as a home for the bird-keeper of St James’s park. It also included a social room for the London Ornithological Society.
Restored in 1982, Duck Island Cottage is still in use today, now acting as an office.
How many can you spot? St James’s Park is alive with many different bird species.
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Buckingham bones…
Today, St James’s Park is a beautiful London destination and one which I would wholly recommend to locals and visitors alike.
Very recently however, the park revealed a dark and rather unsettling secret…
In March 2011 a body, rotted and reduced to a skeleton, was found on a small island, located towards the western tip of St James’s Park’s long canal… the grim find being unearthed mere moments away from Buckingham Palace.
Map indicating the proximity of the island upon which the skeleton was found in relation to Buckingham Palace…
The bones were spotted by a tree surgeon, who also found the site to be littered with empty vodka bottles and a mouldy, yellow pillow upon which rested the deceased’s skull.
Thanks to a passport also being found at the site, the body, which was believed to have lain in its undiscovered position for three years, was quickly identified as that of a 69 year old American called Robert James Moore.
Upon examining his past, it turned out that Mr Moore lived a troubled life.
Suffering from mental illness, the American citizen had developed a deep obsession with Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, sending her some decidedly dodgy parcels during a 15 year period- including obscene photographs and oddly worded letters- some of which clocked up a staggering 600 pages.
In 2007 and in trouble with U.S police over a drink driving charge, Mr Moore travelled to London.
The American embassy in Grosvenor Square had a record of the troubled citizen taking a taxi to their premises where he sought help for paying a fine. However, after that trail went cold…until Mr Moore’s bones were found quietly resting beneath leaves on the St James’s Park island.
To access his isolated refuge, Mr Moore would have had to swim or wade.
But, once there, he would been granted a very effective vantage point from which he would have spent his final days spying on the home of the woman with whom he’d become startlingly obsessed.
View of Buckingham Palace from the western end of St James’s Park. The island upon which Robert Moore’s body was found is to the right of the photo.
The following short animated clip from a Taiwanese news-source depicts the incident in a rather bizarre manner… I’m not quite sure how accurate the depiction of the Queen’s office really is!
View from the Mirror 