During both of Churchill’s terms as Prime Minister, stringent food rationing was in effect in Britain. And during both those terms, Churchill presided over a number of glamorous and lavish dinner parties, both at home and abroad. How was he able to provide for the dinners at which he entertained important British and overseas visitors? And what was the reaction of a public that was doing without many perceived necessities, much less the luxuries on which Churchill and his guests dined? Finally, how was it that rationing and the Prime Minister, who escaped some of its consequences, and his Minister of Food, Lord Woolton, all remained highly popular?
The answers lie in Churchill’s shrewd approach to the problem of food shortages. He had two basic goals: to maximise supplies for all, and to make sure that the public remained broadly supportive of any rationing schemes that had to be put in place.
To maximise supplies, Churchill had to encourage food production at home, and do everything possible to keep up the flow of imports. No easy chore, especially when three-quarters of a million American troops would be arriving in advance of D-Day1 – these troops are “great addicts of ice cream, which is said to be a rival of alcoholic drinks”, minuted the Prime Minister2. Churchill also insisted that German prisoners of war receive the same number of calories as British civilians, lest the Germans retaliate against British PoWs by cutting their rations.3
An increasingly successful German U-boat campaign in the early days of the war, and the diversion of ships to military purposes and to the transport of supplies to the Soviet Union, meant that food imports were seriously reduced. The Prime Minister coped with this problem in a variety of ingenious ways. He:
Churchill did succeed in maintaining public support for the broad rationing scheme: a support so firm that many British housewives favoured continuing rationing in peace time.6 (Men, perhaps because their work required more calories, were less keen).7
Churchill’s plan rested on three strategies. First, the rationing scheme had to be and be seen to be fair. So when the access of upper-income diners to restaurants at which ration coupons were not required threatened to cause a loss of support for the scheme, the government subsidised some two thousand non-profit restaurants established by local authorities to provide lower-income families with an opportunity to dine out. Home Intelligence Reports suggested that the popularity of these restaurants was due to the fact that, by offering a meal for less than a shilling, “they gave poorer folks a chance to do what the rich have always been able to do – have a meal without giving up coupons”.9 On 21 March 1941, the Prime Minister wrote to the Minister of Food, Lord Woolton:
I hope the term “Communal Feeding Centres” is not going to be adopted. It is an odious expression suggestive of Communism and the workhouse. I suggest you call them “British Restaurants”. Everybody associates the word restaurant with a good meal, and they might as well have the name if they cannot get anything else.8
Churchill’s suggestion was adopted and these establishments became the proudly patriotic “British Restaurants”.
Second, Churchill knew that in order to maintain support for the rationing programme, he himself had to abide by the scheme’s rules. So he subjected his own requirements to the rationing plans, meticulously requesting extra coupons when entertaining official visitors and listing their names. The Churchill Archives are replete with formal requests for extra rations of tea, sugar and other foods, with the prominent visitors indicated. When these requests became so numerous as to be burdensome to the Ministry of Food, the requirement that guests be listed was waived by the Ministry, and extra coupons were issued to Churchill’s cook, Mrs. Landemare.
By staying clearly within the rules – even returning unused food coupons to the Ministry of Food,10 – Churchill reduced the opportunity for critics to claim the rules that existed for them did not apply to him. Adherence to the rationing rules extended beyond foods: witness a letter received by his secretary on 7 March 1945, in response to a request for coupons for items that included five pairs of socks and a Royal Air Force vest:
You asked me the other day if a further 72 coupons could be supplied to cover the purchase of uniforms, etc., required by the Prime Minister in connection with the Crimea Conference. You will be glad to hear that the Board of Trade have been graciously pleased to approve of the issue of these coupons, which are enclosed herewith.11
Soap was another item in short supply. When Churchill was living at the White House in January 1942, his secretary meekly requested some soap from the housekeeper for his bath. He was asked: “What kind would you like?” “Oh, any kind, just soap,” the Secretary responded, sounding as if he couldn’t believe that different kinds could be provided.12
None of this means, however, that the Prime Minister led a life anything nearly as austere as the ordinary Briton. One of his biographers wrote: “In reality he suffered less than any other people from the exigencies of war.”13 Like other well-to-do people, he could dine in restaurants and clubs that had access to finer produce and at which coupons were not needed.
Churchill also benefited from gifts from well-wishers around the world and from those in Britain who had access to home-grown foods, such as fish and game from their estates. There were food parcels from Roosevelt and other Americans with whom he worked, and from Stalin, who sent tubs of caviar, and from Lord Beaverbrook, who, when in Moscow after a long meeting, “sent out his secretary to buy twenty-five pounds of caviar for Mr. Churchill”.14 The Soviet Ambassador in London, Ivan Maisky, sent the Prime Minister a gift of onions.
Game came from Sandringham and Balmoral, as personal gifts from King George VI.15 Labels were used to ensure that the game, freshly shot, arrived in the kitchens at Downing Street. Hare, partridge, grouse and two woodcock arrived from Lord and Lady Davies of Llandinam.16 Sir Hanson Rowbotham sent a brace of pheasant and hares from the Isle of Wight – these, killed on 9 December 1942, were shipped to London the following day.17
Fish, although never rationed, was sometimes in short supply. One of Churchill’s shortest instructions (perhaps his shortest) was to a senior official at the Admiralty, who had asked what fishing policy was to be. Churchill’s two-word reply: “Utmost fish”. His first concern was for the British people’s diet, not himself.
Fish was always a most welcome gift from those close to the Prime Minister, or those who wanted to thank him for his service to the nation. Joan Bright, a well-respected staff member, responsible for many of the complex administrative logistics on his overseas journeys, told the author that really good Dover sole was a Churchill favourite. One piscatory gift, marked “by express train, deliver immediately” to Downing Street, came from the Duke of Westminster’s lodge, Loch More, in Sutherland; the nearby Laxford River, its currents described as “merry”,18 is famed still for its superior salmon-fishing. Other gifts came to Downing Street on a regular basis – including oranges from US General “Hap” Arnold,19 and chocolates from the Prime Minister of Quebec.20 One parcel of champagne and pheasants, in honour of Churchill’s 68th birthday, came from the brick manufacturer, Sir Percy Malcolm Stewart, with thanks to the Prime Minister for his inspiration “to win in the darkest days”. He went on: “… may you be spared to lead us to triumphant victory.”21 Clementine Churchill was most grateful for “a small bag of tangerines” that Averell Harriman brought for her from Lisbon,22 and was also named as the designated recipient of one of the eight uncooked Smithfield hams “wrapped individually” that Harriman sent to Commander Thompson for distribution to her and others, including the First Lord of the Admiralty, A.V. Alexander.23
Long after the war, Montgomery would arrive at Chartwell “lugging a case of plum brandy he had brought from Marshal Tito as a gift to Churchill, or a case of port from the Portuguese Prime Minister, Salazar”.24 The Portuguese Ambassador in London gave Churchill six cases of port,25 a drink the young Churchill had been warned off by Dr Hunt years earlier.
Although Churchill was careful to obey all the rules, there was an occasional assertion of privilege. Historian Max Hastings, never one to minimise what he believes to be Churchill’s failings, notes that at one dinner party at the Savoy the Prime Minister, to the consternation of “the ascetic” Canadian Prime Minister Mackenzie King, contravened rationing regulations by ordering both fish and meat courses.26But this must have been a rare event. Hastings also notes that the “Prime Minister’s wife often found it no easier than her compatriots to find acceptable food”.27 Which explains Commander Thompson’s previously cited recollection that Churchill, when in America, “enjoyed roast beef or steak so much that, with rationing in force at home, he often saved half his portion at dinner-time and had it for breakfast next morning”.28 It also explains why, when entertaining Eleanor Roosevelt and other visiting Americans at the No. 10 Annexe – Churchill’s wartime above-ground home and office – Mrs. Churchill apologised for the food: “I’m sorry, dear, I could not buy any fish. You will have to eat macaroni.” Secretary of the Treasury Henry Morgenthau, after another dinner, noted without enthusiasm: “They gave us little leftover bits made into meat loaf.”29
Finally, in his campaign to ensure that rationing was accepted, Churchill focused relentlessly on keeping regulations to the bare minimum necessary to support the war effort. Rationing is inherently intrusive on daily lives, and the Prime Minister knew that regulators had a tendency to make it more intrusive than necessary. In July 1941 he minuted Lord Woolton:
Though rigid rationing might be easier to administer, some system which left the consumer a reasonable freedom of choice would seem much better. Individual tastes have a wonderful way of cancelling out …30
J.J. Llewellin, who replaced Lord Woolton as Minister of Food in December 1943, received a similar minute urging him to “cut out petty annoyances … [in] the private lives of ordinary people”.31 As the Cabinet Secretary Norman Brook (later Lord Normanbrook) noted: “There was in fact a strong bond between Churchill ‘and ordinary people’. Their interests lay close to his heart, and he was always concerned to promote their welfare.”32
As the Prime Minister understood those interests, they included some rather specific dietary requirements. Understanding the British love of beef and his own preferences for it (“personally I am a beef-eater,”33 he wrote in 1933) might have been among the reasons he pressed his ministers to include in British diets beef, beef and more beef. He advised Lord Woolton:
Almost all of the food faddists I have ever known, nut-eaters and the like, have died young after a period of senile decay. The British soldier is far more likely to be right than the scientists. All he cares about is beef … The way to lose the war is to try to force the British public into a diet of milk, oatmeal, potatoes etc., washed down on gala occasions with a little limejuice.34
If beef was not to be had, there was always pork:
The only point in doubt is whether you have asked for sufficient pork. America would find it difficult to provide us with beef or mutton, but pork supplies can be rapidly expanded and, if necessary, imported in non-refrigerated tonnage.35
And if neither beef nor pork, there were always rabbits. In June 1941, Churchill minuted Lord Woolton:
Have you done justice to rabbit production? Although rabbits are not by themselves nourishing, they are a pretty good mitigation of vegetarianism … what is the harm in encouraging their multiplication in captivity?36
There were few aspects of the nation’s consumption with which Churchill did not concern himself. He always had time for matters relating to British well-being and morale, finding the time to:
There are many other celebrated stories illustrating Churchill’s remarkable attention to detail when it came to maintaining a rationing scheme. But perhaps the most telling – and most surreal – is the one involving plovers’ eggs. Plovers’ eggs were another Churchill favourite, a fact sufficiently well known to unleash a supply of these eggs to him from several admirers. When Sir William Rootes, a wealthy car manufacturer, sent some plovers’ eggs to the Churchills, Clementine, in her 7 April 1942 note of thanks, wrote: “They are a great delicacy and rarity and Winston is very fond of them.”43 And when, on 20 April 1942, Audrey Pleydell-Bouverie, a friend of Queen Elizabeth, sent him “a few that [she] collected this weekend”, the Prime Minister, during a very difficult month and year of the war, asked that she be telephoned with his thanks.44 In April 1944, his second cousin, the 10th Duke of Marlborough, wrote to the Prime Minister from the Dorchester Hotel: “Please accept these plovers’ eggs. There are, I fear, only twelve but I have not the personnel now available to find them.”45 Churchill did once share his treasured eggs, at one of their regular lunches, with General Eisenhower, who remembered later that “they were golden plover … It was the first time I had ever tasted them. I loved them … He was always finding some special thing”.46
Whether it was the Prime Minister’s special love of plovers’ eggs, or excessive bureaucratic zeal that set off the following train of events we cannot know.47 It seems that he had “heard on good authority” that plover, partridge and pheasant eggs were on sale – by “Messrs. Fortnum and Mason”, no less – and he asked the Ministry of Food for “a special report on this which he regards as most urgent,” undoubtedly a part of his on-going desire to prevent violations of regulations that would generate “class feeling”. Both the ministries of Food and Agriculture, and the Metropolitan Police investigated. A plain-clothes officer verified that indeed “eggs” were on sale at Fortnum’s but there was some confusion about what kind of eggs they actually were. A sales clerk told the policeman that they were gulls’ eggs, not plovers’ eggs, which were not allowed to be sold. Having checked several reference books and the Ornithological Department at the Natural History Museum, the serious-minded undercover copper reported that:
…the eggs being sold were indeed those of the black-headed gull and not those of the lap-wing [a part of the plover family]. The eggs of the latter bird are of a distinctive shape although of a similar colour and marking to a gull’s egg and of approximately the same size. In my view therefore a genuine mistake has been made by the informant …
This full and detailed correspondence, which eventually involved not only the Prime Minister reporting what he had “heard” but also the ministries of Food and Agriculture, the Home Office, the West End Central Station of the Metropolitan Police and the London Area Egg Officer (an expert on pheasant eggs), took place during the month in which Hitler attacked the Soviet Union.
This tale tells as much about the problems of maintaining a rationing scheme as it does about Churchill’s preferences for these eggs. By insisting that the scheme be applied fairly, by adhering to the rules himself (with their impact ameliorated to some degree by his special circumstances and the kindness and appreciation of friends), by pressing the bureaucracy to do what it could to maximise food production and imports, Churchill shored up Britain’s willingness to endure the hardships of shortages of food and most civilian goods in order to win the war. If at times his inquiries triggered an overreaction from the bureaucracy, so be it. His management of the rationing scheme was one of his least remarked and most important contributions. No small achievement.
1. CAB 120/854
2. CAB 123/74
3. CAB 120/854
4. Gardiner, Juliet, Wartime London, 2004, p. 147
5. CAB 123/74
6. Gilbert, Volume VII, pp. 161 and Calder, Angus, The People’s War, p. 71
7. Calder, p. 405
8. NF 1/292 Home Intelligence Weekly Report, No. 90, 16-23 June 1942
9. Gilbert, Churchill War Papers, Volume III, p. 376
10. CHAR 1/379/40 and 1/379/39
11. CHAR 1/389/5
12. Nesbitt, p. 274
13. Hastings, Max, Finest Years: Churchill as War Lord 1940-1945, p. 202
14. News Chronicle, 30 September 1941
15. CHAR 1/380/25 and CHAR 1/368/85
16. CHAR 2/441/61
17. CHAR 2/446A
18. Profumo, David, The Laxford Shows its True Colours, Country Life, 6 October 2010, p. 104
19. CHAR 20/53C/256
20. Char 2/442/51
21. Char 2/446 B
22. Gilbert, Churchill War Papers, Volume 3, p. 357
23. Meiklejohn to Thompson, “Subject: Hams”, 3 January 1942. Library of Congress, Harriman Papers, Box 161, Folder 6
24. Colville, The Churchillians, p. 156
25. CHAR 20/138A/11
26. Hastings, p. 203
27. Ibid.
28. Pawle, p. 155
29. Hastings, p. 203
30. Gilbert, The Churchill War Papers, Volume 3, p. 990
31. MAF, 286/8
32. Wheeler-Bennett, Sir John (ed.), Action This Day: Working With Churchill, p. 30
33. Halle, Kay (ed.), Winston Churchill on America and Britain, p. 259
34. Gilbert, The Churchill War Papers, Never Surrender, Volume 2, p. 514
35. MAF 286/6
36. MAF 286/6
37. MAF 286/3
38. CAB 123/74
39. CAB 123/74
40. CAB 123/74
41. MAF 286/8
42. CHAR 1/394/22
43. CHAR 2/446/A
44. CHAR 2/445/72
45. CHAR 1/380/34
46. Nelson, James (ed.), General Eisenhower on the Military Churchill: A Conversation With Alistair Cooke, p.54
47. Unless otherwise indicated, correspondence relating to the affair of the plovers’ eggs can be found in MAF 286/1