Picture a transformation. St James went from a receptacle for offal and cinders to London’s prettiest little city centre village.
St James is regal by design. It has remained so for the past 350 years. Andrew Love is chairman of The Ritz and the St James’s Conservation Trust. He works to preserve the area’s ethos and visual integrity. He says St James’s is like a little village of its own.
The area made it onto the map in the 1530s. Henry VIII had a Royal Palace built on the site of a former hospital. It was devoted to St James the Less. Elizabeth I spent anxious evenings there awaiting news of the Spanish Armada. Several monarchs from Charles II to Queen Anne were born at St James’s Palace.
In 1661, Henry Jermyn, Earl of St Albans, was granted a lease. He would build houses fit for noblemen. London had been defective in this respect. The opportunity to rub shoulders with royalty ensured the new neighborhood was a hit.
In 1685, St James’s Square was a receptacle for all the offal and cinders. It also held all the dead cats and dogs of Westminster. Railings were installed to solve this problem. They were taken away during the Second World War for their metal. New ones have been completed in the original style.
Nothing remains of the square’s 17th-century houses. Many were rebuilt during the 18th century. Architects such as James ‘Athenian’ Stuart and Robert Adam outdid one another. They used Corinthian and Ionic columns, pediments and arches. Stuart completed the interiors at Spencer House.
The Roxburghe Club was known for its lavish dinners and love of books. It was one of the many clubs that flourished in St James’s. Some had political affiliations. The Carlton was Tory and the Reform Liberal. Some had intellectual ambitions. The Athenaeum counted Faraday, Dickens and Darwin among its members. Most were the setting for extravagant wagers.
Gentlemen would often belong to more than one club. The Duke of Wellington was a founder of the Carlton. He was a member of at least another five. The Athenaeum installed a pair of kerb stones. These made it easier for him to mount his horse in old age. They still stand outside the club in Waterloo Place.
The Duke had long been the toast of St James’s. Much of the wine raised to his health came from Berry Bros and Rudd. The shop started life as a grocery store. It has served poets like Lord Byron. It served Prime Ministers like William Pitt The Younger. Royalty from George III to The Queen also frequented it. Even some shady characters were customers.
One time, someone that looked like Al Capone walked in. It was Legs Diamond. He was one of the gangsters of Prohibition America. He put in a substantial order. It was collected by a fleet of taxis the next day.
From their corner of St James’s Street, the Berrys and the Rudds have seen Britain’s vinous taste evolve. The entire St James’s area embraces measured change.
St James’s has become better known as an exclusive residential address. It’s perhaps a more discreet and refined version of Mayfair or Knightsbridge. St James’s offers an experience of the past, present and future all at once.
It feels timeless in many ways. Equally, it feels progressive. It’s graceful on the surface but churning under the water. St James’s is not a Disney version of bygone London.