細節
WINSTON S. CHURCHILL (1874-1965)
An unpublished eight-page autograph letter, signed, from Hartham, Corsham, Wilts, 25th December 1904, to Muriel Wilson at Tranby Croft, Hull, the envelope front signed with initials and franked 25th December, the back with red wax seal and franked 27th December. Churchill first thanks Muriel for her telegram, and judging by the conclusion to his own letter this must have said that she misses him, despite her present reluctance to see him. He is himself torn between a desire to reiterate his feelings and a determination to remain silent after having had his proposal rejected, telling her that he wrote "a long letter three days ago but decided to burn it." He will not tell her the contents "because you would think me tiresome." But is reassured by feeling that "our friendship has a little ripened in the last few months, & that is a good thought for Christmas day."
He reaffirms that, "Of course you do not love me a scrap," but insists on the existence of a bond between them, and of "a key -- if I could only find it, if you would only let me look for it -- which would unlock both our hearts." For "five years certainly" and "ten years vaguely," he has "felt mysteriously attracted to her," but she has made herself "inaccessible. You dwell apart -- as lofty, as shining & alas as cold as a snow clad peak." If she can give so much to other people, he asks what risk she would run "by seeing more of me? I do not mind if I am made unhappy. It will do me good to bruise my wings. I should never reproach you," he appeals. As her answer to his question has been given, "I should never ask that question again -- unless circumstances were almost unrecognisable altered both as regards my own position and your feelings." However, he cannot avoid loving her. "I do love to be with you -- to watch you, to study you, to come in contact with your nature; & I always feel that I am not hateful or ridiculous in your eyes & that no impenetrable veil hangs between us." He feels their problems, their dissfatisfactions, and their dreams are of the same kind. "I know you feel as I do the loneliness of this transition world," he writes, but then warns Muriel that she faces "a contracting future. It makes me sad to think of all the treasures that you have to give of comradeship, of motherhood & love remaining forever unlocked, I hate to see you making calm preparations to reconstruct your life & settled down as an old maid -- in a sterile independence." The long opening to the letter ends with the thought that he would rather see her married to someone she did care about than not at all.
Although never intending to be so explicit, he does not want to be guarded with her, and will hold onto "the golden threads of truth & trust -- or none at all."
His hopes for the future are high. "I think this new year that is coming is going to be a critical & momentous year for me ... there are brighter alternatives. Great chances -- probabilities rather than possibilities -- about which we shall speak with greater certainty when some more months have passed." He has said what he believes is right to the public and to her, and will not reproach himself.
On a lighter note, Muriel is told about routine in the house. "Here is a pleasant peaceful part & a comfortable house. I write my book in the mornings -- & play about the rest of the day. Pamela is here with her baby -- in whom she is absorbed. The rest we have Horners (innumerable). Algy West & a few men. Jack Poynder made me promise to make a speech for him on Wednesday. He used to hate me -- but is now entirely converted. Anne -- as usual -- charming and odd." The letter then suddenly ends with the question: "Do you really miss me? God bless you -- Winston."
