Diplomat Sir Edgar Vincent, 1st Viscount d’Abernon, recalls when he first set eyes on Jennie Jerome Churchill, Winston’s mother.
I have the clearest recollection of seeing her for the first time. It was at the Viceregal Lodge at Dublin. She stood on one side to the left of the entrance. The Viceroy was on a dais at the farther end of the room surrounded by a brilliant staff, but eyes were not turned on him or his consort, but on a dark, lithe figure, standing somewhat apart and appearing to be of another texture to those around her, radiant, translucent, intense. A diamond star in her hair, her favourite ornament – its lustre dimmed by the flashing glory of her eyes. More of the panther than of the woman in her look, but with a cultivated intelligence unknown to the jungle.