Founded by Charles II, the Royal Hospital Chelsea first opened its doors in 1692 as a home for retired soldiers ‘broken by age or war’. The use of the word ‘Hospital’ in the title is based on the notion of hospitality, and the institution is modelled on the aptly named Hotel des Invalides in Paris, opened in 1670 by Louis XIV.  The buildings, designed by Christopher Wren, included an on-site infirmary to provide day-to-day routine medical services, in a similar way to that of a GP’s surgery, whilst also providing acute end-of-life hospice care to the Chelsea Pensioner community before they embarked on their euphemistically titled ‘Final Posting’. Unfortunately Wren’s infirmary, like much of the Royal Hospital was quickly found to be too small for the role envisaged for it, but it was not until the appointment of Sir John Soane as Clerk of Works in 1807 that anything was done to address the sub-scale nature of the Royal Hospital’s infirmary provision.

Drawing of the Royal Hospital, Chelsea, with small figures walking around the site.

Above: Soane Office, Composite perspective of the Royal Hospital, Chelsea in the form of a bird’s-eye view of the Infirmary and additions, 1809-15, 1818

Soane was commissioned to build a new infirmary as part of a more general redevelopment of the Western edge of the Royal Hospital’s estate, with the Soane buildings including a new Stable Yard, built on the site of Wren’s original stable yard. A workshop, or Artificers’ Yard, was also included in the redevelopment, on the site of the old coal yard, with the workshops built around a slight hollow in the ground. This localised geographical feature would play an important part during the London Blitz. 

In 1938 as war clouds once again formed over Europe, plans were agreed for evacuating the ‘whole establishment’ of around 500 Chelsea Pensioners, to a place of safety outside London in the event of an emergency. Unfortunately, a combination of toxic politics and complex logistics meant these plans were never implemented. The Commissioners did however agree the terms of a private arrangement with a retired army officer, Major Walter Morland for around 50 patients from the Soane Infirmary to be surreptitiously spirited out of London on the eve of war in September 1939, to stay at Rudhall, Major Morland’s country house near Ross-on-Wye in Herefordshire. Rudhall would remain a Royal Hospital out-station for the duration of the war.

Grey and white photo of elderly pensioners sat on a ledge in a line, infront of a building. The men are all dressed in soldiers uniform, with medals.

Above: Image of Pensioners at Rudhall

The evacuated infirmary patients were accompanied by a Royal Hospital nursing Sister, whilst the bed-bound, acute care patients remained in the Soane Infirmary in Chelsea under the care of the Hospital’s Physician & Surgeon. Here during the winter of 1940/41 they faced the horrors of the London Blitz.

Black and white photo of an infirmary building

Above: Image of the East Wing of the Soane Infirmary, 1938

During air-raid alerts it was impractical to move the bed-bound infirmary patients to the Hospital’s shelters and instead they remained on their wards. Royal Hospital nurses however, refused to leave the acute-care wards, preferring instead to sit out the air-raids alongside their patients in case they were needed. Consequently, sand-bagged refuges were constructed under the Soane Infirmary staircases where nursing staff could take shelter once they had settled their In-Pensioner patients. A First Aid Post was established in the basement beneath the West Wing and Ward Orderlies mounted fire-watch patrols throughout the building during air-raids.

During The Blitz, the Soane Infirmary experienced a number of near-misses, the most notable during a raid on the night of the 15/16 October 1940 when three bombs straddled the building, one bouncing off the roof and sliding down the wall, leaving a deep gash in the brickwork as shown in this remarkable photograph below.

Sepia photos from 1940, showing a building grazed by a bomb, and a HE bomb on a tennis court with a walking stick next to it for perspective.

Above: Photos of the Soane Infirmary building with a gash from a HE bomb, and a photo of a bomb which was removed from tennis courts on the grounds of the Infirmary, 1940

Miraculously, all three bombs failed to explode and the Infirmary was safely evacuated at the height of the raid. The Hospital’s War Diary describes the scene; ‘bombs were continuously being dropped in the neighbourhood, and the anti-aircraft barrage was heavy. There was a full moon, and a fire in Battersea lit up the roads…thereby facilitating movement’. 

By April 1941 it appeared the worst of The Blitz was over. Hitler was planning an attack on the Soviet Union as the next stage of his war of conquest and Incident Reports record numerous consecutive days of No Bombing throughout London Civil Defence. Prior to its redeployment to a new Eastern Front however, the Luftwaffe was planning one last devastating series of raids in a final attempt to force Churchill to the negotiating table. The first of these raids took place on the night of Wednesday 16/17 April 1941, and such was its duration and ferocity it was for ever after known simply as The Wednesday. For the Royal Hospital Chelsea this would be the worst night of the war.

Shortly before midnight two parachute mines descended on either side of the East Wing of the Soane Infirmary, the detonation of the first immediately triggering the second, thus creating a single appalling explosion. The War Diary describes the moment of detonation;

There was an extremely heavy explosion, without previous warning, evidently from a (parachute) mine. Clouds of dust filled the air, debris fell within a 300 foot radius of the Infirmary. The East Wing…was completely demolished, a large crater occupying the site. The remainder of the Infirmary was badly damaged, the roof being removed. So also was the Artificers Yard…windows were broken all over the Royal Hospital.

Grey and white photo showing the Royal Infirmary building damaged by war, with a pile of bricks and debris infront of the damaged walls.

Above: The Soane Infirmary damaged by parachute mines

Eight infirmary patients were killed and five nursing staff, whilst a further three In-Pensioners died later in casualty clearing hospitals. Amongst those Killed-by-Enemy-Action was Chelsea Pensioner Henry Augustus Rattrey, two weeks short of his 101st birthday. Almost fifty infirmary patients were trapped in the wrecked building and as rescuers converged on the scene, fires broke out throughout the ruined wards. Evacuation of trapped In-Pensioners was an imperative and rescuers, with complete disregard for their own safety, displayed supreme bravery in rescuing the infirmary patients. Twenty-seven-year-old nurse Hannah Deasy, who was later Gazetted for her actions during the night, helped rescue patients from two wards before she moved further into the wrecked and burning building, where; ‘finding the doors of a third damaged ward blocked by fallen masonry, she entered it by climbing through a window opening, and set about moving debris from patients’. Hannah Deasy’s bravery saved the lives of countless trapped Chelsea Pensioners during the course of the night. 

A greay and white photo of a group of people infront of a bombed building. In the foreground one man in a long coat holds a BBC microphone towards a woman dressed in traditional nurses robes.

Above: Nurse Hannah Deasy being interviewed by the BBC, 1941

A total of 47 Chelsea Pensioners were eventually rescued from the remains of the Soane Infirmary and despatched to casualty clearing hospitals, including 33 stretcher cases. The blast as the East Wing imploded also severally damaged Soane’s Artificers’ Yard, where on the outbreak of war the Office of Works had constructed a surface air raid shelter for the use of wives and children of staff living on-site. On the night of The Wednesday this shelter was packed, and it was now buried beneath tons of debris from the destroyed infirmary. Mercifully the fact it was located in a small hollow in the ground meant it was sheltered from the full force of the explosion and consequently remained intact. The occupants, although shaken, were otherwise unharmed.

Despite wartime news censorship, the bombing of the Soane Infirmary was widely reported in the press and a couple of weeks after the air-raid the BBC conducted one of its first ever outside broadcasts, as a reporter interviewed survivors amongst the ruins. This publicity helped raise awareness of the plight of the Royal Hospital and its Chelsea Pensioner residents and offers of help came flooding in, with the extended ‘Military Family’ stepping forward as Regiments offered to house In-Pensioners in regimental training depots. The Rothschild banking dynasty offered the use of a Rothschild property, Ascott House in Buckinghamshire as a replacement infirmary, and 80 patients subsequently took up residence, as Anthony de Rothschild and his wife moved into an apartment above the estate stables.

In the aftermath of The Wednesday, the Soane Infirmary was reduced to a burnt-out ruin. In May 1942 however, the Commissioners of the Royal Hospital received a letter from F. Boultwood & Sons, with an accompanying note from the Office of Works outlining proposals for the demolition of the remaining structure. In the early months of 1942 the Allies were on the defensive everywhere and desperately needed to take the war to the enemy. The means to do so were the strategic bombing forces of the RAF and the USAAF, using bombers such as the iconic Lancaster and the B17 Flying Fortress. These four engine ‘heavies’ however required concrete runways from which to operate and consequently a major aerodrome building programme was undertaken using material from Blitz damaged buildings. 

Black and white photo showing a building demolition. A huge pile of rubble and debris is piled high infront of the ruins of a brick building.

Above: The Soane Infirmary demolished

Given the urgency of the moment the Commissioners agreed to the demolition of the infirmary ruins, on condition that ‘any part of the structure or fittings that may be required for the future use of the Royal Hospital is retained intact’. In the event however, the immediate demands of the war were such that these conditions were ignored, and the remains of Sir John Soane’s infirmary at the Royal Hospital Chelsea subsequently met an ignominious end, as hard-core beneath a runway at a Second World War bomber base somewhere in Southern England.

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Written by Martin Cawthorne, author of The Royal Hospital Chelsea at War.


All references: The Royal Hospital Chelsea at War (Cheltenham: The History Press, 2024)

Images: The Royal Hospital Chelsea archive

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