Eleven years in the political wilderness had freed me from ordinary party antagonisms. My warnings over the last six years had been so numerous, so detailed, and were now so terribly vindicated, that no one could gainsay me. I could not be reproached either for making the war or with want of preparation for it. I thought I knew a great deal about it all, and I was sure I should not fail. Therefore, although impatient for the morning, I slept soundly and had no need for cheering dreams.
Facts are better than dreams.
A happier and much more welcome visitor was Winston Churchill, on his way back from the Washington Conference in 1943. He spent several hours moving about the city, strolled through the Public Gardens, and inspected the port from the top of Citadel Hill. He sailed from Halifax in a battleship on September 14. A year later he was back again, this time with a large staff and accompanied by Mrs. Churchill, entering the harbour aboard the Queen Mary on September 10 en route to the Quebec Conference. Hundreds of servicemen and citizens recognized the Prime Minister and his inevitable cigar.