I woke to birdsong and the distant lapping of waves against ancient stone. Opening the cottage windows revealed an empty churchyard bathed in golden morning light. This wasn’t just any burial ground—it was the final resting place of Harold Wilson, Britain’s twice-serving Prime Minister from 1964-70 and 1974-76. And remarkably, I had it entirely to myself.
A prime minister’s paradise in the Isles of Scilly
The Isles of Scilly—an archipelago off Cornwall’s southwestern tip—might seem an unlikely location for a political giant’s grave. Yet Wilson so loved this remote corner of Britain that he spent 50 summers here, eventually choosing to be buried in Old Town’s churchyard on St. Mary’s island rather than Westminster Abbey.
“Harold always said this was where he found true peace,” explains Tom, my cottage’s owner. “Locals remember him walking these lanes without pretense—just another islander enjoying the simpler life.”
Old Town: where time stands wonderfully still
My granite cottage sits just steps from St. Mary’s Old Church, a 12th-century structure whose weathered stones have withstood Atlantic storms for centuries. Old Town itself feels frozen in time—a handful of stone cottages clustered around a sheltered bay, connected by narrow lanes where wildflowers push through stone walls.
Unlike other British islands with their Mediterranean-blue waters, Old Town offers something quieter—a gentle beauty that seeps into your soul rather than shouting for attention.
Morning ritual: coffee with a prime minister
Each morning, I carried my coffee to Wilson’s grave—a simple pale sandstone lozenge that reads “Harold Wilson 1916-1995, Lord Wilson of Rievaulx, Prime Minister 1964-1970, 1974-1976.” No pomp, no circumstance—just as he wanted.
The islands were his sanctuary from political life. He’d work through complex problems while walking these shores,” local historian Sarah Michaels tells me. “The grave’s simplicity reflects his unpretentious connection to this place.”
A churchyard filled with extraordinary stories
Wilson isn’t the only notable resident. The churchyard contains victims of the 1707 HMS Association shipwreck and the grave of Ann Cargill, an 18th-century actress whose ghost supposedly haunts the islands. Each headstone tells a story of lives shaped by these remote islands.
Beyond the churchyard: exploring St. Mary’s treasures
When I could tear myself away from my peaceful morning ritual, I discovered historic stone cottages with million-dollar harbor views along coastal paths. The island’s circumference can be walked in a day, revealing hidden coves and Bronze Age burial chambers.
Island-hopping to neighboring gems
Boat trips from St. Mary’s harbor connect visitors to neighboring islands. On Tresco, subtropical gardens flourish improbably in Britain’s climate. St. Agnes offers golden beaches where wild seals might wake you at dawn.
The ultimate crowd-free experience
Unlike Cornwall’s tourist-packed mainland, Scilly offers genuine solitude. Even in summer, I found empty beaches and quiet lanes. The islands’ remoteness—reached by small plane or ferry—keeps visitor numbers manageable.
People come here to disconnect from modern chaos,” says harbor master Jim Thomas. “Having a former Prime Minister choose this as his final resting place over Westminster tells you everything about Scilly’s special magic.”
Where to stay: cottages with character
Several holiday cottages dot Old Town, offering character-filled accommodation within steps of Wilson’s churchyard. Many feature thick granite walls, wood-burning stoves, and gardens exploding with the islands’ famous wildflowers.
Beyond Scilly: other British island escapes
The Scillies aren’t Britain’s only island treasure. Further north, some islands let you picnic with wild puffins, while Scottish islands offer Europe’s darkest skies for stargazing.
A lesson in what matters
On my final morning, I sat beside Wilson’s grave watching sunrise paint the ancient stones gold. This powerful man who once commanded Britain’s government found ultimate contentment in this tiny island community. As political legacies go, choosing simplicity and genuine connection seems increasingly profound in our complex world.