The Wicked Wit of Winston Churchill; or Somebody Else

Winston Churchill was famous, often infamous, for his biting, pithy wit. Historians and biographers may disagree as to exactly what he said to whom, or even if he said or originated certain lines attributed to him. There is little doubt, however, that he had a way -- often his way -- with words.

The recipients, or alleged recipients, of his wit were often his fellow politicians and fellow upper class folks. But they included all sectors of society. Even the voters, of whom he said (perhaps), "The best argument against democracy is a five minute conversation with the average voter."

That line jars uneasily (or does it?) with another of his famous statements about democracy, that it was "the worst form of government except for all those others that have been tried." But did he really say that? Inquiring minds disagree.

One of his most famous quotations was directed against a woman he disliked, Tory MP Lady Nancy Astor. She had said to him at a social gathering, "Winston, if you were my husband, I would put poison in your coffee." He reputedly replied, "My dear, if you were my wife, I would drink it." Did he really say that? Churchill biographer and Foreign Secretary Boris Johnson says no. But Johnson also said that Brexit would provide an extra £350 million a week for the NHS. (below: Lady Astor)

Deserved or not, Churchill had a reputation for indulging in large quantities of strong drink. One day in 1946, when he was leaving Parliament, he was accosted by Lady Astor or Labour MP Bessie Braddock (depending on which version you read). The woman in question accused him of being disgustingly drunk. "Yes," he shot back, "but you are ugly, and I shall be sober in the morning." (Below: Bessie Braddock)

He once explained his relationship with liquor as follows: "I have taken more out of alcohol than alcohol has taken out of me."   

If the date of the ugly-sober quip, 1946, is correct, Churchill had reason to be in a foul mood. The previous year, the voters had kicked him out of office after he had led the country through World War II, by giving the Labour Party the reins of government. 

His replacement as Prime Minister, was Clement Attlee. Churchill famously called Attlee "a modest man, who has lots to be modest about." Did Churchill also originate the lines, "an empty car drove up, and Clement Attlee got out," and "He is a sheep in sheep's clothing."? Well.... (Below: Attlee)

The following story of an exchange between Churchill and Attlee is almost surely apocryphal, but sounds like something Winnie might well have said at the time. It was during the late 1940's, when Labour was nationalizing many large industries. 

One day, Churchill walked into the gents' toilet at the House of Commons to find Attlee already busy at one of the urinals. Churchill grunted and walked to the urinal farthest away from Attlee. "Winston," Attlee remarked, "why are you being so unsociable?" "Clement," Churchill replied, "I'm not being unsociable. It's just that every time you see some thing big, you want to nationalize it."

Churchill was hardly kinder to his Conservative colleague and former boss, Stanley Baldwin, Prime Minister for much of the 1920's and 30's. Once friends, during the 30's they fell out and Baldwin removed Churchill from the cabinet. When someone asked Churchill why he hadn't sent Baldwin a card on his 80th birthday, he allegedly retorted, "I wish Stanley no ill, but it would have been much better if he had never lived." That's believable enough. (Baldwin, below, died a few months later.)

Churchill often criticized himself, but could combine self-criticism with arrogance in a humorous way, as the following: "I have often had to eat my own words, but I must confess I have always found it a wholesome diet."

Churchill wrote a lot of history and it was generally complimentary, to him. But he warned us about it, humorously, of course: "History will be kind to me, because I intend to write it." 

I think that is accurate. 

    

London's Georgian Hospitals

During the Georgian period (1714-1830) London witnessed a great expansion of hospital facilities. This article examines a few of the more famous, some of which continue to operate today, though sometimes in different locations and with greatly expanded functions. 

In 1721 Thomas Guy, who had made a fortune in the South Sea Bubble, founded Guy's Hospital in Southwark, near London Bridge. He established it to care for "incurables" discharged from nearby much older St. Thomas' Hospital , of which he was a governor. 

The St. Thomas governors supported Guy's project by granting him the south side of St. Thomas' Street at a tiny rent for 999 years. St. Thomas' moved from the area to Lambeth, south of Westminster Bridge, in 1871 but Guy's remains in its original location. It has long since expanded greatly in size and remit, and is a major teaching hospital. (Below: Guy's, @1830)

One of the early specialist hospitals, besides the much older Bethlem Hospital for Lunatics, was founded in 1747 by surgeon William Blomfield: the London Lock Hospital for the treatment of syphilis and other venereal diseases. It was originally located near Hyde Park Corner, in Grosvenor Place. It later moved to other premises and developed maternity and gynecological services and other facilities before closing in 1952. The name "lock" derives from earlier leper hospitals. "Locks" were rags used to cover the lepers' skin lesions. (Below: Lock Hospital, mid-18th century)

St. George's Hospital, now in Tooting, was originally located at Lanesborough House, Hyde Park Corner, on its founding in 1733. In 1800, the original structure was demolished and replaced by a larger building designed by William Wilkins (below). 

Today, St. George's is one of the major teaching hospitals in the UK. The renowned and controversial surgeon-anatomist John Hunter served as head surgeon at the hospital in the late 18th century. Read about Hunter here: http://mycandles.blogspot.co.uk/2015/10/lopping-them-off-in-leicester-square.html


In 1739, sea Captain Thomas Coram founded Britain's first hospital for abandoned children, the Foundling Hospital. It is believed to be the first incorporated charity. It was located at Lamb's Conduit Fields (now Coram's Fields) in Bloomsbury, and counted William Hogarth, Joshua Reynolds, Thomas Gainsborough, and George Frideric Handel among its benefactors. Among other contributions, Hogarth painted Coram's portrait for the hospital. 

The Foundling Hospital was actually an orphanage, with "hospital" used in its ancient sense of hospitality, but medical care of the children was a major function. It moved to the countryside in the early 20th century, and with the shift to adoption and foster care in the 1950's ceased most of its institutional operations. its heritage survives today in Coram, a Children's Charity. 

Another major Georgian foundation that continues to function today is the London Hospital, Whitechapel, founded in 1740, now the Royal London. It was established to fill a void: none of the existing hospitals were located in the less fashionable east side of London. Today it is a large teaching hospital. (Below: two images of the hospital building opened in the 1750's.)

Darwin and Darwinism in Victorian Cartoon and Caricature

The publication of Charles Darwin's Origin of Species (1859) and The Descent of Man (1871) provided plentiful material for the cartoonists and caricaturists. One of my favorites is this one, published in Punch in the year of Darwin's death, 1882. It plays on the fact that Darwin had also written the definitive work on earthworms. A worm emerging from CHAOS is evolving into a variety of questionable primate forms before emerging as a proper Victorian gentleman tipping his hat to Darwin, portrayed as a Greek philosopher. Scientific it isn't, but it is a worthy tribute to the great scientist.    

Many of the caricatures of Darwin highlighted the then frightening notion that man was descended from an ape or monkey, although Darwin stressed that humans were not descended from any existing primate species but from earlier, extinct forms. 

Punch published the two below in 1861, one of an ape arriving for a Victorian formal affair, the other of an ape asking about his relationship to homo sapiens. 

Intentionally or not, "Monkeyana" had definite racist overtones. In the 1780's Darwin's grandfather, Josiah Wedgwood, had produced a medallion for anti-slavery organizations in England in which an enslaved African in chains asked the same question. 

Darwin himself was sometimes presented as an ape-like man, or apes were portrayed as resembling him. The four below are from the 1870's, after the publication of the Descent of Man.

The last of these four, from Punch, was inspired by Darwin's book on climbing plants, reissued in 1875.

But Darwin was not the only famous person to be associated with apes, as this 20th century poster shows.

A Curious Walk along the Thames: Rotherhithe, Deptford, and Greenwich

On yet another beautiful day, I resumed my walk on the Thames Path, along the South Bank of the river. I started where I had ended the previous walk, at the Brunel Museum in Rotherhithe, just past the Mayflower Pub. I soon came to the curious statue below, at Cumberland Wharf. From right about here, the ship Mayflower left for the New World in 1620. 

The statue, put up in the 1990s, is of a Pilgrim of the 1620s and a young Londoner of the 1930s. The lad is reading a popular boy's magazine called the Sunbeam Weekly. the sculptor, Peter Maclean, has spelled it "Weakly." Was this a joke or just a mistake? 

Other curiosities: the Pilgrim has a lobster claw in his pocket, a crucifix, and a London A-Z Street guide dated 1620! The dog, by the way, is a Staffordshire Terrier, a popular breed around here.

Walking on, I soon found myself opposite the Isle of Dogs (no connection to the statue). The Isle was once home to the vast East India Docks, opened in 1802. They closed for good in 1980. The triumph of mammoth container ships rendered them and other London docks obsolete. Today, the area is home to the financial center known as Canary Wharf.    

Resuming my trek on the South Bank, I passed the Docklands Hilton and arrived at the Surrey Docks Farm, a charming urban oasis of green, complete with farm animals, including pigs and goats. One can buy produce and enjoy a snack or meal in the farm's Cafe.

Just beyond the farm I came to Greenland Dock, now a marina for boats of all shapes and sizes, mainly pleasure craft, canal boats, and houseboats.

Greenland Dock is in Deptford. It is near here that Elizabeth I knighted Francis Drake upon his return from circumnavigating the globe in his ship The Golden Hinde. A replica of the ship can be visited upriver in Bankside, at St Mary Overie Dock.  

Things got curiouser and curiouser. After Greenland Dock, I had to take a short detour away from the riverfront. The detour took me through Sayes Court Park, where I encountered an ancient fenced mulberry tree with signs around it informing me that it was Evelyn's Mulberry, that it was entered in the contest for the UK's tree of the Year, and that I should vote for it.

Legend has it that Tsar Peter the Great of Russia planted the tree during a visit to England in 1698. He planted it, so the story goes, to placate his landlord, the famous diarist John Evelyn, after doing some damage to the gardens during a drunken escapade. Other tales argue that the tree is older, perhaps planted during the reign of James I (1603-1624). Whatever the tree's origins, calling it Evelyn's Mulberry is justified. Evelyn owned the land it sits upon, and he wrote one of the first books on trees in 1664. 

After leaving Sayes Court Park, I quickly returned to the riverside and ran into Peter the Great again, memorialized in another curious statue. Peter had come to London mainly because he wanted to study British shipbuilding. He wanted to establish a western style navy in Russia. The statue itself is quite recent, a gift from Russia to commemorate Peter's visit. The little man to Peter's right is said to be one of his dwarf court jesters. Peter himself was extremely tall, 6'6" (2.03m).

From the vantage point of Peter's statue, I had a good view of my final destination for the day, Greenwich, dominated by the masts of the clipper Cutty Sark and the cupolas of the Old Royal Naval College. Both are now museums, in a place full of museums. There are also the National Maritime Museum and the Royal Observatory, where one can stand on the Prime Meridian.

I had visited all these attractions on other occasions. The day was getting late, and I was getting thirsty, thus I wisely limited my time in Greenwich to a stop at the Trafalgar Tavern, guarded by yet another statue, this one of Britain's greatest admiral, Horatio Nelson. Compared to the Mayflower and Peter the Great statues, that of Nelson seemed rather prosaic!

Great Old London Bridges That Are Not Falling Down, Yet.

1. Albert Bridge. Connects Chelsea and Battersea. Opened 1873. Architects: Joseph Bazalgette and Rowland Mason Ordish. Length: 216 meters. Named for Prince Albert, Queen Victoria's consort, who died in 1861. 

Ordish designed it as a cable stayed bridge, but it proved structurally unsound. To strengthen it, Bazalgette added some design elements of a suspension bridge. In 1973 the Greater London Council added two concrete piers, which transformed the central span into a simple beam bridge.

Beautiful but not designed for modern motor traffic, the Albert Bridge was (somewhat oddly) nicknamed the "Trembling Lady" because it tended to vibrate noticeably when large numbers of people crossed it. That is the reason for the notice on the toll booth below. 

As the booths indicate, the Albert Bridge originally charged tolls for crossing, but it proved unprofitable and soon passed into public ownership. It still carries some motor vehicles, with severe restrictions.  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Albert_Bridge,_London



2. Hammersmith Bridge. Connects Hammersmith and Fulham on the North side of the Thames to Barnes on the South side. Current bridge opened 1887, replacing another opened in 1827. Architect: Joseph Bazalgette. Suspension bridge. Length: 210 meters. 

Like the Albert Bridge, Hammersmith Bridge suffered from the advent of heavy modern vehicular traffic, which it was not designed to support. It has been closed to traffic for lengthy periods for repairs and strengthening, and now has 7.5 ton weight limit.  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hammersmith_Bridge 

3. Richmond Bridge. Connects Richmond Upon Thames and Twickenham. Opened 1777. Stone arch bridge designed by James Paine and Kenton Couse. length: 91 meters.  

It is the oldest surviving Thames bridge in London. It was widened and reinforced during the 20th century and continues to carry vehicular traffic.  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Richmond_Bridge,_London

Thames Walks: From the Globe to the Mayflower

My walk took me along the Thames Path on the South Bank. Starting at Blackfriars Station, I quickly passed through Bankside, past the Tate Modern, and soon arrived at the replica of Shakespeare’s Globe Theater. The original Globe was not located here, but somewhere near here. I did not come to see the Globe, however, but a house next to it. 

I had recently read The House by the Thames and the People Who Lived There by Gillian Tindall, a fascinating account of Bankside and its people since medieval times. I have passed the house in question many times before but never took any notice of it. It isn’t a palace, or even a mansion, but a modest residence that has been here since the early 18^th century. After reading Tindall’s book, however, I just had to have a look.

What I was most interested in was this plaque on the front of the house:

None of this was true, as Tindall explains in her book. Wren did live for a time in a house nearby that no longer exists. As for Catherine of Aragon, no evidence exists that she slept here, with or without Henry. The house did not exist in 1502. An inn, perhaps, but as Tindall points out, 16th century princesses didn't stay in common inns. 

The claims about Wren and Catherine were fabricated. the culprit was a mid-twentieth owner of the house, Ludwig Malcolm Munthe. Perhaps he put up the plaque to attract tourists who prefer myth to history or just to make himself feel important. Despite Tindall’s exposure, the plaque remains to mislead those who bother to read it. Munthe’s fabrication may have had a good result, however. Tindall argues that its faux history may have helped save the house from demolition in the late 1940s, the fate of many nearby old buildings.

Moving on, I passed The Clink, a museum named for the Bishop of Winchester’s prison that existed here from the 12^th century to 1781. The Bishop’s Palace was next door, but only part of its foundations remain. A little further on is the Golden Hind, a replica of the ship that Sir Francis Drake circumnavigated the world in/on 1577-1580.

Resisting tours, I plowed on past London bridge and the HMS Belfast, a WWII light cruiser, one of only three surviving ships that formed part of the bombardment fleet on D-Day, June 6, 1944.

Next, I came to City Hall, which looked like it was about to take off into hyperspace, in stark contrast to the extremely earthbound medieval Tower of London across the river.

Just past these monuments to the past, I arrived at iconic Tower Bridge, which looks medieval, but dates from the 1890s, when neo-gothic was the rage.

I recalled the story that the developers of Lake Havasu City, AZ, who bought the previous London Bridge in the 1970s, actually thought Tower Bridge was London Bridge, and were disappointed to learn they had bought a rather dull neoclassical construction. Maybe the story is apocryphal, but many tourists no doubt think of Tower Bridge as London Bridge. Souvenir shops are full of models of the former, but not the latter.

Passing under Tower Bridge, I entered Bermondsey. The Docklands proper begin here, and for centuries until the 1960s this area would have been chock full of ships coming and going from all points of the globe. The advent of giant container ships ended that world. Just past the Bridge one comes to Butler’s Wharf, a huge Victorian warehouse that has been converted into upscale apartments and restaurants.

At the end of Butler’s Wharf, I came to a muddy inlet of warehouses: St. Savior’s Dock, New Concordia Wharf, and Jacob’s Island Pier. This area was once a notorious slum. It now features luxury flats. 

Readers of Dickens’ Oliver Twist may recall that it is at Jacob's Island that the villainous Bill Sykes meets his well-deserved end, falling from a roof into the mud, still very evident at low tide. Dickens called this area “the filthiest, strangest, and most extraordinary of the many localities that are hidden in London.” It's no longer filthy, at least, and is now rather posh.

After crossing the inlet on a metal pedestrian bridge, I went through and under a building on the waterfront. For a few blocks here, the Thames Path meanders along Bermondsey Wall West. Here, old warehouses, now luxury apartments, generally obscure the river from view. I passed by the location of a huge new Thames super sewer tunnel project, which also obscures the river from view now. Recent discharges of raw sewage into British waters make the need for this project urgent. 

The path soon rejoins the river again at Bermondsey Wall East, near the Angel Pub. I was sorely tempted to enter for a pint, but I resisted and sat for a while on a bench, looking across to Wapping and Execution Dock, where the notorious alleged pirate Captain Kidd was hanged in 1701. A short distance past the Angel I walked through a narrow passage between warehouses (now apartments) linked by overhead bridges (now bedecked with flowering plants). 

Just past these warehouses I entered the historic heart of Rotherhithe and arrived at the quaint and ancient Mayflower Pub. 

The pub, which dates in part from the 17^th century, was later renamed for the famous ship that carried the Pilgrim Fathers (and Mothers/Kids) to Massachusetts in 1620. The ship was from here in Rotherhithe, and several of its owners are buried in St. Mary’s Churchyard across the street. Among them is Christopher Jones, who captained the Mayflower on its voyage to “discover the New World." At least this is what the plaque on the pub’s front claims. Fake News has a long history. 

The plaque reminded me of Munthe’s plaque on the House by the Thames at Bankside: not entirely truthful, but maybe useful. I went inside and discovered the Mayflower pub, enjoying an ale and lunch. Leaving the Mayflower while I could still walk, I soon arrived at the nearby Brunel Museum.

The building was originally an engine house designed by Marc Isambard Brunel, the engineer who designed the Thames Tunnel. Completed in 1843, it was the first tunnel ever built under a navigable river. It connects Rotherhithe with Wapping on the north bank of the river and is @1300 feet (396m) in length. The engine house contained pumps to pump water from the tunnel during construction. 

Today, the museum highlights the careers and engineering projects of Marc Brunel and his more famous son, Isambard Kingdom Brunel, who completed the tunnel after his father’s death. The Thames Tunnel is used today by London Overground trains.

The Brunel Museum is a charitable project. I would have liked to visit it, but I was running out of time. I made my way to the nearby Rotherhithe Overground Station and so to home. I decided to come back soon and see more of the fascinating Docklands area. 

[See History and Other Stuff: A Curious Walk along the Thames: Rotherhithe, Deptford, and Greenwich (mycandles.blogspot.com)]