Barbara Cartland by John Pearson

Author:John Pearson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2013-12-07T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

‘Men Matter Most’

For a woman who has achieved wealth, fame and success by her own unaided efforts, Barbara has a somewhat unexpected philosophy on the subject of a woman’s ideal role in life.

In history her favourite heroines are not the great achievers like Joan of Arc or Elizabeth 1. She much prefers such purely feminine women as Elizabeth of Austria and Napoleon’s wife, Josephine, or better still, the lovely Diane de Poitiers, who even in old age remained the influential and adored mistress of the King of France, Henri 11.

Her secret dream has always been to change the world by influencing the man she loves, and she insists that she would have willingly exchanged all her personal success in life for such a role.

As early as the beginning of 1936 she was writing in an article in Pearson’s Weekly, in answer to the question, ‘What matters most to women?’,

Men matter most!…

The trouble with most women today is that they will not realise that women can only succeed when they are the inspiration or the shadow behind men : that men become great through them. That is the secret of women’s power.’

It was the cruellest twist of Barbara’s life, that the one man she could successfully have done this with, turned out to be her brother, Ronald.

Even so she did in fact act as a spur and inspiration to him. No sooner were they back in England in the autumn of 1933 after their holiday in Austria than she became responsible for one of the key decisions of his life. Barbara vividly recalls the moment still. It was a late Tuesday afternoon in the middle of October, and Ronald had walked across the Park from his office in Westminster to have a late tea with Barbara at her flat. Something had obviously excited him.

‘What do you think? I’ve just heard that Major Beaumont-Thomas isn’t seeking re-election at King’s Norton. It’s the seat I’ve always wanted.’

‘You must put your name forward then,’ Barbara said.

‘As official party candidate for the seat? You must be mad.’

‘Not at all. It’s obviously meant for you. I’m as certain of it as I am of anything in the world.’

Ronald remained unconvinced. At twenty-six he was young—and totally inexperienced—for a career in Parliament. More serious still, he had no money of his own, and knew quite well that a Conservative candidate would need a minimum of £ 1,000 for electoral expenses. He said that he would never dream of standing as a party hack, paid for and tied hand and foot by Central Office. Not that there seemed much chance of this occurring, for Ronald also knew that there would be keen competition for the Conservative nomination to an important Birmingham constituency like King’s Norton.

But Barbara was adamant that Ronald should apply. Money was neither here nor there. A thousand pounds might seem an enormous sum to both of them, but they would find it somehow, if only they had faith in one another. That faith had never let them down in the past—it wouldn’t now.

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