Pauline poppycock
From Lady Cudlipp Sir: Pious, goody-goody Saint Paul Johnson (And another thing, 19 June) didn't have the guts to take on someone with the cele- brated invective of Hugh Cudlipp during his lifetime. Perhaps Paul also knew that I — Hugh's widow — was out of the country when that particular issue of The Spectator was published.
Well, I'm back now And I'm still here to point out that 'poor old Hugh Cudlipp' will- ingly and voluntarily gave up his 'undisput- ed power' in Fleet Street aged 60 (10 years younger than 'poor old' Paul is now), saying that it would be an unpardonable vanity to stay on longer when youth was knocking at the door. Mr Johnson was also mistaken in picking Hugh as an example of an editor who vanished on retirement. Hugh did other things, all of them successfully. He appeared several times on television, including a social documentary series of his own; he was founder chairman of the Chichester music and arts festival; vice- president of Chichester Theatre Trust; wrote two more books and several pub- lished articles.
I don't recall any editor that Hugh 'ate for breakfast'; eating 'Cabinet ministers for lunch' is surely fair meat for any journalist.
Paul wrote that when Hugh 'finally faded, nothing appeared beyond the bare, scarecrow obituaries'. He obviously doesn't read any newspapers — there were full- page and half-page obituaries in all major national UK broadsheets; similar space in all major tabloids; plus substantial coverage in Scotland, Wales, Yorkshire, the United States, Canada, Australia and Hong Kong. Bare? Scarecrow? Paul should be so lucky when his time comes.
Jodi Cudlipp
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