Imagine the following scene. The prime minister has suffered a massive heart attack. A handful of people know. It is very possible that the prime minister will have to resign if the news breaks, both as leader of the country and of his party, and then a general election will have to be called. What are you going to do? This is the same decision that must be answered in 1953 by the closest confidants of the Prime Minister.
There is little warning. On June 23, 1953, a dinner is held in Downing Street for Italian Prime Minister Alcide de Gaspieri and Prime Minister Winston Churchill. The evening starts off well with Churchill delivering another witty speech joking about the Roman conquest of Britain. Later, he begins to fail as his health rapidly deteriorates. Barely able to move, he takes the hand of his close friend, Jane Clark, and whispers, “I want a friend’s hand.” They put too much on me, Foreign Affairs…’ and then his voice trails off.
There is no relay. Those who hope that it is just a small attack like the one suffered in the south of France in 1949 are disappointed. Churchill’s condition is so serious that, at one point, the aptly named neurologist Sir Russell Brain doubts his patient will live another year.
It is later revealed that he has suffered a massive heart attack, and yet, incredibly, he is still fighting. The next day, he even manages to hold a cabinet meeting. Some cabinet colleagues note that he looks quite pale and white, but the only sign that something is wrong is when he asks ‘Harold, could you pull down the blinds a bit, would you?’
The pain Churchill endures with the loss of function in his left arm, leg and the left side of his face is intolerable. Finally he capitulates and reluctantly decides to retire to his house in Chartwell to recuperate on Thursday morning. He leaves at noon from number 10 towards Chartwell. He is in the public eye and the media and yet he somehow manages to single-handedly get into his car and escape detection. By the time he gets to Chartwell, he needs full assistance to get out of the car.
His problems continue to increase over the next few days. He is well aware that if the media gets hold of this story they will have a field day. He can also see how his political rivals circle around him like vultures around a corpse. If he wants to stay as prime minister, then he definitely has to recover his health somehow.
The first media business is tackled on Thursday June 25 when the day’s three leading press barons, Lord Beaverbrook, Camrose and Bracken, are invited to Chartwell to discuss the Prime Minister’s health. Remarkably, given the scoop on their hands, they collectively decide to gag their own documents to protect the Prime Minister. They also encourage others to do the same, arguing that Parliament’s summer recess will give Winston enough time to recover.
More difficult negotiations take place on Friday. Winston meets his main adversaries, Lord Salisbury and Butler on Friday at Chartwell. Winston knows that he needs his good will since anyone can reveal his condition to the public. He tries to persuade them by suggesting that he will step down in October in favor of Eden. It is a dangerous game to appeal to his mixed sympathies, and yet it seems to work.
This can best be seen in the way that both Butler and Salisbury make direct appeals to the Prime Minister’s medical experts, Moran and Sir Russell Brain to amend their original press circular. In the first draft it says that Churchill has suffered from “a disorder of the cerebral circulation.” Instead, a revised medical bulletin is published saying that the Prime Minister is taking a “complete rest”, while the original comment is cut to prevent the general public from realizing the seriousness of his situation.
Churchill’s problems are not over. Key talks on the future of the Conservative government take place at Chartwell on Saturday 27 June between key political figures from Butler, Salisbury, Colville and Lascelles, the Queen’s Secretary. They agree that an interim government under Lord Salisbury will take over until Eden is in a position to do so permanently.
Churchill is even suggested to move to the House of Lords and remain Prime Minister in name only while Eden takes effective control of the Commons. He adamantly rejects the offer and replies with his usual keen sense of wit: “He should be the Duke of Chartwell, and Randulph would be the Marquess of Toodledo.”
The main impediment to a smooth transition of power is the status of Antony Eden. One of Winston’s two main challengers, he is 3,000 miles away in a Boston hospital recovering from a botched eight-hour operation on his gallbladder that leaves him with a 50/50 chance of survival. His other main rival is Rab Butler, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, and he misses his chance by dithering about what to do next instead of aggressively promoting himself and seeking support.
None of this matters when Winston’s life turns intermittent over the weekend of June 27-28. His health is so poor that his doctor, Moran, tells Colville that he is not sure if the prime minister will last the weekend. Unable to get out of bed on Saturday morning, his good right hand stiffens and Winston seems to lose hope.
Sunday is a crucial day in your fortune. Fortunately for him, his thrombosis subsides, so his friends and family, including his wife Clementine, take the opportunity to try to cheer him up. Winston himself is willing to resist. He still has immense resources of mental toughness and the will to fight or ‘fatten up’ as he likes to say. Rather wonderfully, he makes it his goal to walk unassisted to his bed. Unbelievably, he pulls it off with a lot of effort and quickly collapses from the sheer effort.
Keeping the matter of Winston’s health a secret is too heavy a burden, so on Monday, June 31, more people realize how bad it is when the entire cabinet is informed. Grown men cry in shock or have to contain their emotions to keep them from breaking down.
Meanwhile, Winston continues to baffle everyone around him. A notable example of his willingness to ‘buy’ occurs on Tuesday, June 30, after dinner. He leaves a lasting impression on his colleague Brook. This time, Winston is in the living room and intends to stand up without the aid of a chair. Everyone is scared for him, so they try to stop him from doing it. He warns them with his cane to stand on either side of him. With enormous effort he begins to get up, sweat glistening down his face. He finally stands up. Content, he sits down and smokes a cigarette to relax. He leaves a lasting impression on all who witness him. Brook felt that “what he had done for the nation in 1940, he also did for his own life in 1953. He was determined to recover.”
Indeed, it is gradually improving and the following weekend of July 4 and 5, an evident upward turn begins. Churchill takes the first short walk of him unassisted. In addition to a great deal of pain, he also gives him a much-needed boost of confidence, and from then on, he slowly recovers.
All the while the public remains ignorant of his condition. They only light up a year later during a speech by none other than Winston himself when he blurts it out as a casual comment in a House of Commons debate.