The day I tried to match Churchill drink for drink
Whisky for breakfast, champagne for lunch, and then the serious drinking begins. But could keep up with the great British wartime leader’s typical daily alcohol intake?
AS I was slumped on the sofa and struggling to complete my second pint of Champagne, I realised I was never going to match Sir Winston Churchill’s prolific achievements.
It is at moments such as these that you feel your life is a failure.
By my age (40), Churchill had already fought in the Boer War, escaped from a prison camp, written 11 books and served as British home secretary. He had also acquired a seemingly gargantuan capacity for food and drink.
He died 50 years ago last month, at the ripe age of 90. A miracle, considering he had drunk an estimated 42 000 bottles of Pol Roger Champagne through his life. He thought nothing of starting the day with cold game and a glass of white wine and ending it at 3am with the best part of a bottle of cognac.
To get a flavour of his extraordinary lifestyle, one formed during the late Victorian era, I set myself the challenge of spending the day drinking what he drank in a typical 24-hour period. It was surprisingly difficult. As with so many aspects of the great man, his alcoholic intake is subject to a few myths.
The most famous anecdote — the Labour MP Bessie Braddock accusing him of being drunk in the Commons, and he answering “Bessie, you are ugly. But tomorrow I will be sober, and you will still be ugly” — is confirmed by witnesses.
Cita Stelzer has written an entertaining account of Churchill as a bon viveur diplomat, Dinner with Churchill. She is adamant that nearly all accounts of Churchill as a drunk were circulated by various enemies, such as Hitler, who called him an “insane drunkard”.
“Certainly, he was not working all those years in such a high-pressure job if he was drunk,” she said in an interview.
There are, however, details that emerge from wine merchants’ invoices that hint at a monumental appetite for, in particular, whisky, brandy and Champagne.
After losing the 1945 election, he went on holiday to Lake Como, Italy, with Sarah, his daughter, and Lord Moran, his doctor. Between them they polished off 96 bottles of Champagne in a fortnight; Churchill also drank six or seven whisky and sodas a day, as well as three brandies.
His drinking was considered, by some, to be so bad during the “wilderness years” that his friend Lord Rothermere bet him £2 000 (more than R2-million in today’s money) that he could not give up alcohol during 1936. Churchill refused the bet, although he agreed to give up spirits in return for £600. He won, although various people say they saw him knock back many glasses of whisky during the period.
One thing is certain: his fondness for kick-starting the day with what he called “mouthwash” — a weak whisky and soda, which he would take from about 9.30am onwards and keep continually topped up. But the whisky (simple Johnnie Walker, no fancy malt) would only just cover the bottom of the tumbler; the bulk of the drink was soda.
It is a rather delightful way to start the day, as I discover. Especially when consumed in bed. Churchill would frequently spend all morning in his dressing gown, under the covers, surrounded by papers and with secretaries in attendance.
Lunch was when the serious drinking began. A whole bottle of Champagne was the norm.
A bottle, however, was for Churchill nearly always a pintsized one (about 560ml); a fairly common measure until it was phased out in the ’70s.
The subsequent glass of Churchill’s beloved Hine cognac, however, pushed me over the edge. I had to stagger off to bed for a nap, a fine Churchillian custom. He would often sleep for an hour and a half in the afternoon.
I spent the rest of the afternoon drinking more whisky and sodas.
After dressing for dinner (bombs raining down on London was no reason to let standards slip), Churchill would often have a sherry. A glass of Amontillado failed to sharpen my jaded appetite. Worse, I was dreading the second pint of Champagne that lay ahead.
I am aware this sounds churlish, but it became progressively joyless to get through all those bubbles over dinner.
I wasn’t roaringly drunk, but I was feeling queasy. Then I threw in the towel. My attempt to emulate Churchill ended in ignominious failure. He is reputed to have said: “I have taken more out of alcohol than alcohol has taken out of me.”
I could not say the same. — ©
I have taken more out of alcohol than alcohol has taken out of me