In an echo of his burgeoning political career, Kennedy’s widespread popularity had inevitably spilled over into his private life. While he had never been short of admirers, his public profile only increased his eligibility. Despite entertaining a host of girlfriends, he showed little inclination to bring his bachelorhood to an end by settling down with a wife.
This was, at least, how the situation was perceived in public. Privately, it may have been a different matter entirely. For the past sixty years, rumours have persisted that in 1947 Jack secretly married a wealthy Episcopalian divorcee named Durie Malcolm. No definitive evidence has ever emerged, and so these rumours – along with reports that, upon hearing of the alleged nuptials, a furious Joe Sr arranged for the official records to be expunged – remain unproven.
Nevertheless, there is no secret about the fact that, by the early 1950s, the Kennedy patriarch was becoming increasingly eager to see Jack safely married off to a suitable wife – one who would complement, if not enhance, his son’s public profile.
The beautiful and sophisticated Jacqueline Lee Bouvier, of French, English, and Irish ancestry and the daughter of a successful Wall Street stockbroker, seemed the perfect choice. Crucially, she was from a Catholic family, had received an exemplary education, and exuded a natural elegance and charm – an ideal match, it seemed, for a man like Jack Kennedy.
Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy
Towards the end of 1951, Jackie began working as a writer and photographer for the Washington Times-Herald newspaper. Her weekly column, Inquiring Camera Girl, brought her into the sphere of Washington’s political elite. The pair met briefly in late 1951 and then again in May 1952 over dinner at the home of a mutual friend. A courtship began which, despite some prevarication on Kennedy’s part, culminated in a marriage proposal a year later. The nuptials took place on 12 September 1953, ten months after he was elected to the Senate – the groom was thirty-six, the bride twenty-four.
JFK and Jackie on their wedding day
It has been suggested that Kennedy married Jackie purely to satisfy his father and advance his political career. Despite the problems that would later afflict their marriage, Jack’s friend, Chuck Spalding, believed that it was, in the beginning at least, a love match:
Jack appreciated her … He really brightened when she appeared. You could see it in his eyes; he’d follow her around the room watching to see what she’d do next. Jackie interested him, which was not true of many women.
A telegram he sent to his parents while on honeymoon certainly seems to suggest he was enamoured with his new wife: ‘At last I know the true meaning of rapture,’ he said. ‘Jackie is forever enshrined in my heart.’ Washington’s most eligible politician, it seemed, was content.
Till Death Do Us Part?
However, it was not long before the marriage became troubled. Barely a year after their lavish wedding, Jackie had grown disillusioned with her lot as a political wife, bemoaning the fact that her husband was often away on political business. Her husband had returned swiftly to his bachelor ways, often seeking out the company of pretty young girls. Indeed, his persistent adultery, often barely concealed from Jackie, would continue to be a constant source of friction between the couple.
Kennedy’s illnesses also put considerable strain on the marriage – in a bid to relieve his constant back pain, he underwent two potentially life-threatening spinal operations in the months following the wedding, both of which were only partially successful. The continuing chronic pain often had a detrimental effect on his mood, leaving him prone to bursts of anger.
There were, however, some positives to emerge from this fraught time. While he was recuperating from his operations, Jackie encouraged her husband to use the time wisely by writing another book. The resulting tome, Profiles in Courage, which examined the careers of eight prominent US Senators who had fought against the odds for causes they believed in, was published in 1956. An instant bestseller, the book went on to win the Pulitzer Prize for Biography the following year. The success of the book, however, did little to mitigate the couple’s worsening relationship, which almost irreparably broke down in August 1956 when Jackie gave birth to a stillborn daughter (whom, it is believed, was to be named Arabella).
Having previously suffered an early-term miscarriage, Jackie was devastated by the loss of her child at such a late stage in her pregnancy. Her misery was further compounded by the fact her husband was reluctant to cut short a European vacation to be by her side – a fact which is said to have brought the couple close to divorce.
The arrival of a healthy daughter, Caroline, in November 1957, went some way towards healing the couple’s fractured relationship, and with her husband having by now decided to run for the White House, Jackie set aside her misgivings. With her sights now firmly focused on bigger and better things – namely the role of First Lady – all talk of divorce evaporated.