From ‘War and wild life’, The Spectator, 17 October 1914: The siege of Antwerp has been a minor tragedy in a quarter to which few probably gave a thought. The authorities of the Antwerp Zoological Gardens, before the bombardment began, felt compelled to destroy all the dangerous animals in their cages. They could not contemplate
Home Checks began at British airports for passengers who might have come from west Africa with Ebola fever (even though there are no direct flights from the countries most affected). People who rang 111 with suspicious symptoms were to be asked whether they’d come from a high-risk country. Police arrested three men and three women
From The Spectator, 17 September 1914: THE long periods of darkness and absence of all direct news which add to the gloom of this war are illuminated by the flashlights of soldiers’ letters. Letters of the deepest interest have, as we all know, enthralled public attention; but these are of course picked letters. The letters
From The Spectator, 17 October 1914: Last Sunday another aeroplane attack was made upon Paris. It appears that no fewer than five aeroplanes were concerned in the raid, and that twenty bombs were dropped, killing four persons and injuring twenty-two. One of the bombs fell upon the roof of the church of Notre Dame, and was
From The Spectator, 17 October 1914: To all British people here and overseas by far the most delightful news of the week is that of the landing of the Canadian contingent at Plymouth on Wednesday afternoon. As may be imagined, the reception given to the Canadian troops was of the heartiest, and the Canadians will
From The Spectator, 10 October 1914: [TO THE EDITOR OF THE “SPECTATOR.”] SIR,—It is a self-evident proposition that an army recruited by voluntary enlistment is, caeteris paribus, more efficient than one compulsorily obtained. It is also true, though not so self-evident, that voluntaryism must in the end deleteriously affect national character far more than compulsory
From The Spectator, 10 October 1914: AN old explanation of the phrase “at loggerheads”—whether true or not we do not attempt to say—runs as follows: When two armies met in what we should now call entrenched positions, those positions were spoken of as leaguers. The leaguers were pushed on, from both sides just as the
Ukip has arrived at Westminster. Douglas Carswell held his Clacton seat after defecting from the Conservatives, and in Heywood and Middleton Ukip came just 617 votes short of victory. Which was the more startling result, and what does it all mean for the parties’ chances at the general election? Fraser Nelson and James Forsyth discuss in
From The Spectator, 10 October 1914: As we go on in life we do, as a rule, learn our place more or less truly, and we find it is not the one we should have chosen. It may not be lower, but it is almost certainly different from what we expected. As we look over
‘You can’t trust British elections — they’re all about bribery.’
‘That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it? “When they publish the Chilcot report.” ’
‘Good, great, super. Now everybody say, “sleaze”.’
‘I love him as a pet — I’m just saying he is rather high-maintenance.’
‘If anyone calls, I’m in the bath.’
‘Uh oh, looks like their creative accounting has crept into their special offers.’
‘We had a blazing row about Gone Girl, then she just disappeared.’
