In this excerpt taken from Young Titan, Michael Shelden recounts the former UK prime minister trying to woo a woman, the daughter of a rich businessman, who instead of devoting herself to Churchill, preferred the company of playboys like Portuguese ambassador Luis de Soveral and one of King Edward?s closest friends
Something was missing, however. As he approached his thirtieth birthday he was still searching for a wife. The press was beginning to speculate whether he would ever marry and settle down or simply drift into middle age as a ?confirmed bachelor?, which is the very phrase a society magazine applied to him at the end of the year. It was the last thing he wanted to be. But, after two failed proposals, he was beginning to have his doubts. Then, again, he wasn?t the kind to give up.
Perhaps because he didn?t think he had anything to lose, he set his sights on another woman who seemed beyond his reach. She was Muriel Wilson, whom he had known for years. They were the same age and had always liked each other. Their names had been linked romantically once or twice when they were younger, but this had been mostly idle gossip. For much of their friendship, she had refused in a good-natured way to take him seriously as a potential mate. Other men always seemed to have a stronger claim on her attention. Yet they all went away disappointed. For the past ten years some of the handsomest and best-connected men in the kingdom had tried and failed to win her hand. Now, as she was nearing thirty herself, Winston dared to hope that she was ready to contemplate a future with him.
She loved her freedom and didn?t need to rush into anything. She lived like a princess and never wanted for money. Her father, Arthur Wilson, ran the world?s largest privately owned steamship company, with a fleet of almost a hundred ships. At his death in 1909, he was one of Britain?s richest men, worth an estimated ?4 million (an astounding sum at a time when the prime minister?s pay was ?5,000 a year). The family had a mansion near Buckingham Palace, a sprawling villa in the south of France, and a country house in Yorkshire?Tranby Croft (scene of a notorious incident in the early 1890s involving a guest who cheated the Prince of Wales at cards).
The family fortune was not Muriel?s only attraction. She was a strikingly lovely woman. Ethel Barrymore?s brother, Lionel, said Muriel was one of the ?most beautiful women I ever saw in my life?. In her early twenties the American press called her ?Great Britain?s most beautiful girl?. She bore some resemblance to the young Jennie Churchill, with dark features, a small, delicate mouth, large eyes, and a rich mass of wavy hair. Her dresses were legendary, cut from the finest materials to accentuate her tall, willowy form. ?Singularly handsome,? said the London Journal, ?she could nowhere pass unnoticed.?
Fluent in French, possessed with a good sense of humour, and popular with both sexes, she seemed to do everything well. ?She skates, cycles, and dances to perfection,? one society magazine gushed. She even had a career of sorts, routinely acting in amateur theatricals. Not wanting a salary, she performed only for friends at country house parties or onstage in London and elsewhere for charity. She was celebrated for the memorable costumes she wore in historical pageants, where she would walk onstage like a goddess, personifying some epic moment. In a flimsy white gown she would appear as ?Peace? or in a heavy Wagnerian robe as ?War?. She could not have failed to excite Winston?s deepest passions when she played the ?Muse of History?, her eyes soulfully fixed on the heavens while waving a sword. Photographs of her posing in costume for these parts were reproduced in the Edwardian society magazines, where she was hailed as ?the finest of our lady amateurs on the stage?.
How could Winston Churchill have resisted the chance to court the ?Muse of History?? When Muriel gave him a photograph of her playing one of these allegorical figures, he was thrilled and vowed to keep it with him always. In this way and others, she gave him enough encouragement in the autumn of 1904 to make him think a proposal might be met with success. He believed their long friendship was suddenly ripening into something more serious. But he had misread the signals. When he asked the all-important question, she gave him such a firm rejection that he went away crushed.
He begged her to reconsider, and told her in a letter written in the heat of his distress that he was willing to wait for her to change her mind. ?Perhaps I shall improve with waiting,? he wrote, sounding desperate. ?Why shouldn?t you care about me someday?? Trying to think of something convincing to say, he offered her both a promise and a prophecy. If she would trust him to prove that he was worthy of her, she wouldn?t be disappointed. No matter how long it took, he would make her proud. And then came the prophecy. ?Time and circumstance,? he said, ?will work for me.? Then he told her that he loved her and couldn?t bear to go forward without her.
She seems to have been touched by the letter, but not enough to change her mind. For the rest of 1904, and well into the next year, he kept writing to her, and they continued to see each other. He recited poetry to her, then recommended that for an insight into his feelings she should read Robert Burns?s lyric ?Mary Morison?, which includes the question, ?Canst thou break that heart of his, / [Whose] only fault is loving thee?? He praised every hair on her head, told her he could be happy just to be near her, and kept reminding her that she had completely captured his heart. Every now and then, she allowed him to take her to a dance or to accompany her on a long walk at sunset. Yet there was a ?key? to her own heart, he told her, that he couldn?t seem to find. ?You dwell apart,? he wrote, ?as lofty, as shining & alas as cold as a snow clad peak.?
She wasn?t so cold to others, however, and Winston couldn?t understand how she could spend time with his rivals, none of whom impressed him as having better claims to her affection than his own. The problem was that, for the time being, marriage simply wasn?t in Muriel?s plans. She was having far too much fun to settle down. Instead of devoting herself to Winston, she preferred the company of such easygoing playboys as Luis de Soveral, the Portuguese ambassador and one of King Edward?s closest friends.
Printed with permission from Simon & Schuster
