Showing posts with label Ian Fleming. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ian Fleming. Show all posts

Thursday 2 September 2021

London: History & Mystery - Knockings of Belgravia 2nd September 2021

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On Thursday the 2nd of September 2021 I got the train/underground to Victoria Station. I left the station and walked into The Shakespeare pub outside. Not a great range of drinks, but I choose one beer, sorry it's out. Okay I'll have this cider, Sorry that's off too! Okay I won't bother than and left.

I am following a route from the AA London History and Mystery book. Published 2009 so hoping it was still accurate. 

From the Shakespeare Pub I crossed over Buckingham Palace Road and head over to Grosvenor Gardens.

Here on the other side of the road is a statute dedicated to Foch.

The Equestrian statue of Ferdinand Foch stands in Lower Grosvenor Gardens, London. The sculptor was Georges Malissard and the statue is a replica of another raised in Cassel, France. Foch, appointed Supreme Commander of the Allied Forces on the Western Front in the Spring of 1918, was widely seen as the architect of Germany's ultimate defeat and surrender in November 1918. Among many other honours, he was made an honorary Field marshal in the British Army, the only French military commander to receive such a distinction. Following Foch's death in March 1929, a campaign was launched to erect a statue in London in his memory. The Foch Memorial Committee chose Malissard as the sculptor, who produced a replica of his 1928 statue of Foch at Cassel. The statue was unveiled by the Prince of Wales on 5 June 1930. Designated a Grade II listed structure in 1958, the statue's status was raised to Grade II* in 2016.

In the green garden behind the statue are two shell covered huts.

The shell huts were built in 1952 as part of a re-landscaping of the Lower Grosvenor Gardens in a French style to commemorate Marshal Foch and Anglo-French understanding. The gardens already had a statue (by Georges Malissard) of Foch – the French hero of the First World War – which was erected in 1930. During the Second World War, Grosvenor Gardens was covered with air raid shelters and littered with dust and debris, so a clean-up was in order.

The two shell huts – and indeed the rest of the park – were designed by the then architect-in-chief of the National Monuments and Palaces of France, Jean Moreux, who also designed the Institut Francais library in South Kensington. Some of the shells adorning the huts were brought over from France, while it was thought that others would also be sourced from English beaches – making for a very cross-cultural construction indeed. The huts were said to be ‘in the style of those small pavilions that were known as fabriques in eighteenth-century France’ – the old French term for what is known as a folly in the U.K.

I walked up Grosvenor gardens before turning left into Ebury Street where up at no 22B Ebury is street is where Ian Fleming lived from 1936 to 1939.

Ian Fleming the creator of James Bond lived in the building that was once a 19th century chapel, this appealed to Fleming and the fact it is reputed to be haunted. He turned it into a avant-garde bachelor pad in which he pursued his hobbies of collecting first editions and surrealist art, seducing women, gambling and gourmandizing.

I walk back down onto Lower Belgrave Street and over into The Plumbers Arms.

I order a Beavertown Neck Oil beer and sit down. 

At 9.45pm on the night of 7th November 1974, a distressed and bloodstained woman burst into the bar of The Plumber’s Arms, Lower Belgrave Street, crying out "Help me, help me, help me. I’ve just escaped from being murdered. He’s in the house. He’s murdered the Nanny!" She was the Countess of Lucan, who had fled from her home at number 46, leaving behind her three children. She was obviously the victim of a serious assault, and the police and an ambulance were called to the scene. The police officers who arrived to investigate found a substantial house with a ground floor, a basement and four upper floors. Forcing open the front door, they searched the premises, and found the children in their bedrooms, unharmed. The door to the basement was open. There was no light in the hall, so they fetched a flashlight. They descended the stairs to the breakfast room, and found the walls splashed with blood, a pool of blood on the floor, with some male footprints in it, and, near the door connecting the breakfast room to the kitchen, a bloodstained sack. The top of the sack was folded over but not fastened. Inside was the corpse of Sandra Rivett, the children’s' nanny. She had been battered to death with a blunt instrument. In the hallway was a length of lead piping, covered in surgical tape, very bent out of shape and heavily bloodstained. The back door was unlocked.

When Lady Lucan was able to make a statement to the police she named her husband as her attacker and the murderer of Sandra Rivett. Of Lord Lucan, there was no sign.

Shortly after 10pm, Mrs. Madeleine Floorman, a friend of the Lucans, who lived a short distance away, was dozing in front of the TV after a tiring day when she was awoken by someone pressing the doorbell insistently. Assuming it was a local youth, who had done this kind of thing before, she ignored it and went back to sleep. Some time later, the phone rang. She was sure that the caller was Lord Lucan, but he sounded distressed and became incoherent. She put the phone down and went back to sleep. (Later, some spots of what appeared to be blood were found on her doorstep).

At approximately 10.30 that evening, Lord Lucan telephoned his mother who lived in St John’s Wood, telling her there had been a catastrophe at the house, and he wanted her to collect the children. She went straight there, found the place occupied by police, and informed them that the Lucans were separated, the children were wards of court, and that Lord Lucan currently resided at a nearby flat. She then took the children to her home. The police searched Lord Lucan’s flat. He was not there, but they found his car keys, passport, chequebook, driving licence, wallet and glasses. His blue Mercedes car was parked outside. The battery was flat. (It had been suffering from battery trouble for some time).

Lord Lucan was driving another car that night, a Ford Corsair he had borrowed from a friend some 2-3 weeks previously. (He had, in fact, insisted that he wanted the car for that particular evening.) It was about 11.30pm when he arrived in Uckfield, Sussex, at the home of his friends Ian and Susan Maxwell-Scott. The house was 42 miles from Lower Belgrave Street, a journey of about an hour at average speed, though he was a fast driver and might have taken less time. Ian Maxwell-Scott was away, but his wife admitted Lord Lucan and was surprised to see him in disheveled daytime clothing. His flannels looked as though they had been stained and something sponged off.

This was Lord Lucan’s story, as told to Susan Maxwell-Scott. He had been walking past the Lower Belgrave St house, and had peeped in through the basement window. He had seen someone struggling with his Lady Lucan in the basement kitchen. He let himself in through the front door and ran down the stairs. He slipped and fell in a pool of blood, and the man had run off. He had calmed Lady Lucan down and taken her upstairs to try and clean her up, but while he was in the bathroom she had run out of the house shouting "Murder!". He had panicked, realizing things looked very bad for him, and decided to get out.

Between that time and arriving at the Maxwell-Scotts he said had made three phone calls, one to Mrs. Floorman, one to his mother, and he had also tried to telephone Bill Shand Kydd, who was married to Lady Lucan’s sister but there was no reply. Mrs. Maxell-Scott said that he did not tell her where he made these calls from, but she got the impression they had been made after he left the house. At 12.15 he rang his mother from the Maxwell-Scotts house to check that she had the children, and rang Bill Shand Kydd again, but there was no reply.

Lord Lucan then wrote two letters, both addressed to Bill Shand Kydd at his home in Bayswater. (They were posted the following day. The envelopes were found to have smears of blood on them. ) Mrs. Maxwell-Scott tried to persuade him to remain so they could go to the local police the next morning, but he said he had to "get back". He drove away. There has been no validated sighting of him since.

Three days after the murder, the Ford Corsair was found abandoned at Newhaven. Bloodstains were found inside of both type A and type B, also, a piece of bandaged lead piping, unstained, but very similar to the one found in the murder house.

I leave the pub and continue up Lower Belgrave Street and stop outside no 46, where the gruesome murder took place.

I continue along Lower Belgrave Street cross Hobart Place and over to St Peters Church on the corner of Upper Belgrave Street.

St Peter's was built between 1824 and 1827 during the first development of Eaton Square. The interior was, as was common at the time, a "preaching box", with galleries in three sides and the organ and choir at the west end. James Elmes called the effect "chaste and simple".

Further along Upper Belgrave Street I stop outside 10 where between 1809 and 1881 was the home of the poet Tennyson.

Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson FRS was a British poet. He was the Poet Laureate during much of Queen Victoria's reign and remains one of the most popular British poets. In 1829, Tennyson was awarded the Chancellor's Gold Medal at Cambridge for one of his first pieces, "Timbuktu".




I continue along and turn right into Chester Street and then left into Groom Place.
Here are very pretty mews type properties once the living quarters for the coachmen who attended the grand houses of Belgravia. The ground level double doors gave access to the stables where the horses and coaches were kept, while the coachmen and families lived in the rooms above.

Here at the Horse and Groom Public House where I order a Shepherd Neame Whitstable Bay Blonde Lager and a Shepherd Neame Orchard View Cider.

The walls are covered in pictures of The Beatles and the barman told me they drank regularly in here, as their manager loved nearby.


I leave the pub take the next left and into Chapel Street where I stop outside no.24.  Where The Beatles Manager Brian Epstein lived.

He bought the house in December 1964 and hosted many showbiz parties here, including the 196t7 launch for The Beatles album Sgt Peppers Lonely Heart Club Band. The Beatles attended and posed for photographs on the doorstep here.
Epstein however was feeling the pressure of managing The Beatles and the stress of coming to terms of his homosexuality unbearable and started a  drink and pills downward spiral. He was found dead in his bedroom here on 22nd August 1967, a victim of a overdose. Accidental death was recorded although some suggested suicide or even murder. 

I walk on into Belgrave Square.



Here is a bronze sculpture depicting Venezuelan military and political leader Simón Bolívar (1783–1830), by Hugo Daini. The statue was unveiled by James Callaghan, then Secretary of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs, later Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, in 1974.

On the plinth are the words:


I am convinced that England alone is capable of protecting the world's rights as she is great, glorious and wise

The names of countries liberated by Bolívar are inscribed on the base.

Just around the square at no.33 is the HQ of the Spiritualist Association of Great Britain. One of the treasured possession of theirs is the chair in which Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (A committed Spiritualist) wrote many of his Sherlock Holmes books. Sadly it was behind hoarding and the door closed.

I walk around the square cross over and into Halkin Street by the statue of Sir Robert Grosvenor, the first Marquess of Westminster.

I walk on into Grosvenor Crescent and its amazing buildings.

I walk on and into Wilton Crescent  and first right into Wilton Row.

The Grenadier is patriotically painted Red, White and blue. A red sentry box sits outside. Inside you'll find sword, bayonets and other military memorabilia.

This was once the officers mess for the Duke of Wellingtons regiment.

It is said to be haunted by the ghost of a young subaltern caught cheating at cards, who either killed himself of flogged to death by by his fellow officers.



Here I stop at the Grenadier Pub for a Cedrics Debt Bitter and a Grenadier Pale Ale.

I leave the pub and take the red gate next to it into Old Barracks Yard.




Here is a stone horse mount, said to have been used by the Iron Duke himself!

I walk through the arch at the end, right along Knightsbridge and to the finish at Hyde Park Corner Tube Station. A easy 2 mile walk , full of history, mystery and beer!