Chartwell was a
refuge and a sanctuary for Winston Churchill. The odd conglomeration of structures and additions on the
Kentish weald, southeast of London was, for him, an earthly paradise. In fact, he often asserted that “A day
away from Chartwell is a day wasted.”
It was home.
And if ever a man needed a home, an earthly elysium to
recharge, recoup, and reinvigorate, it was Churchill. He was born into
privilege on this day in 1874—the son of the parliamentary master, Lord
Randolph Churchill, and thus one of the heirs of the Marlborough legacy. Educated at Harrow and Sandhurst, he
entered the Imperial service as a hussars officer. After notable tours of duty in India, Sudan, and South
Africa, he entered parliament himself.
Having already made a name for himself, he rose quickly
through the political ranks. By
1908 he moved from the back benches to become President of the Board of
Trade. Two years later he became
Home Secretary. The next year he
was appointed First Lord of the Admiralty presiding over the naval expansion
that preceded the First World War.
He was evidently a man of extraordinary gifts and abilities.
A series of disastrous defeats—including the failure of the
Dardanelles expedition, which he had championed—Churchill lost his Admiralty
post and served out the remainder of the war on the front lines in France. He
undertook a painstakingly slow and difficult political rehabilitation in the
years that followed. Most analysts
believed his career was essentially over—he was now relegated to the outer
fringe of political influence. His
dire warnings of the threat from Hitler’s Nazi regime in Germany went unheeded.
During those difficult years, Churchill bought and renovated the old estate of
Chartwell. It was a place where he
could rest and reflect, read and write, paint and build, garden and walk. He once asserted that “We shape our
dwellings and afterwards, our dwellings shape us.” There can be little doubt that he shaped Chartwell to suit
his peculiar interests and concerns.
There his soul was braced for the great trials ahead.
When the Second World War broke out, the hapless Prime
Minister, Neville Chamberlain was forced to bring Churchill into the
government—even though he was now sixty-five years old. He was appointed First Lord of the
Admiralty. The following May, when
Chamberlain was forced to resign, Churchill was asked by the King to form a new
government and accept the office of Prime Minister.
Over the next five years, he stood practically alone against
the Nazi menace. Almost
single-handedly he saved Western Civilization, stirring the British people to
unimaginable feats of valor with his bold oratory and even bolder
leadership. His unflagging energy
and his stubborn refusal to make peace until Adolf Hitler was crushed were
crucial in turning the tide of the war and ultimately leading the Western
Allies to victory. After the war,
he returned to Chartwell.
Extraordinary vitality, imagination, and boldness characterized his
whole career. But, he was the
first to admit, if he had not had Chartwell—its libraries and gardens, its
hearthsides and hedgerows, its peace and quiet—he would never have been able to
do what he was called to do.
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