“There is no honour in politics”

A recent article features a statement from the Scottish writer George MacDonald to the effect that as no good person would go into politics, anyone who is elected to power will not be a decent human being. 

His words may be unwelcome and depressing, but there are many recent examples in both the UK and the US that support them.

Other people mentioned on here have said much the same thing.

This is from Benjamin Disraeli, who saw it all from the inside:

“There is no act of treachery or meanness of which a political party is not capable; for in politics there is no honour.“

Taylor Caldwell, who had something to say about the causes of major wars, also said this in her historical novel Captains and the Kings:

“...politics and moral ethics never mix. Politics and ethics are a contradiction in terms. An honest politician is either a hypocrite—or he is doomed.”

Although Captains and the Kings is set in the United States and the story starts in the 1850s, much of the material in this book has wider applications.

Some alarming words about wars from Taylor Caldwell

I have been noticing more and more occurrences of the alarming prediction that World War III is both inevitable and  imminent.

There are many conspiracy theories about the causes of major wars; they often involve power and money: 'cui bono' and all that.

These sinister theories may be new to some people, but they have been circulating for a very long time. There is nothing new in the observation that differing factions often unite in the face of a common enemy either. 

The author Taylor Caldwell, who has been mentioned in a few articles on here, said something in a book first published in 1952 that is very applicable to the current global political situation:

“You see,” went on the doctor warmly, “when a nation threatens another nation the people of the latter forget their factionalism, their local antagonisms, their political differences, their suspicions of each other, their religious hostilities, and band together as one unit. Leaders know that, and that is why so many of them whip up wars during periods of national crisis, or when the people become discontented and angry...

Attacking another nation, then, acts as a sort of catharsis, temporarily, on men’s fear of their immediate neighbors. This is the explanation of all wars, all racial and religious hatreds, all massacres, and all attempts at genocide.”

From The Devil's Advocate

The recent series of violent riots in the UK is an indication that all is not well here. The US economy is reported to be slowing down, with many job losses.

Are the people becoming increasingly discontented and angry? Are the US and the UK moving towards a time of national crisis?  

If so, are the leaders going to whip up a war or two? 

Benjamin Disraeli too had something to say on the subject of conflicts between nations.

Perhaps we should take his advice and hope for the best but prepare for the worst.

Context and the total picture: Part II

Part I introduces the idea that putting painful experiences into the context of the lives of well-known people can have both positive and negative effects. 

Some people are the worse for learning that they are not alone, some take comfort in the idea and try to make the best of things and a few of them take another big step forward: they start noticing patterns, joining dots and making connections. 

It seems strange to me that some of the writers featured on here appear never to have reached even the first stage. Their writings are full of insights about themselves and their lives but they looked at it all in isolation. 

No context for their lives
I first mentioned this important point in an article about the poet Kathleen Raine: I said that while she made a good, honest evaluation of herself and her life, she did not compare it with the personalities and lives of other creative writers. She actually had many ideas, insights, feelings and experiences in common with some of them, but she never, at least publicly, did much to put her life into the context of the lives of other, similar, people. 

For example, she admitted that her thoughts about and feelings for Gavin Maxwell placed a heavy and intrusive psychic burden on him and that he eventually turned against her because of this. He may not have been the only person she had a bad effect on: he called her a destroyer.

Would it have made things better or worse if she had known about the terrible effect that J. M. Barrie had on the Llewelyn Davies boys and their parents or Benjamin Disraeli had on various people?

Napoleon Bonaparte and the crumbs of hope

Napoleon Bonaparte must be one of the most written-about people on the planet. However, although he got a brief mention in an article about Benjamin Disraeli, who was a great admirer of his, I would not have expected that he would ever be the subject of an article on here.

I was reading about Napoleon recently, and I unexpectedly came across some material of interest. 

I was surprised to learn that after his final defeat, Napoleon had wanted to come and live in the UK. In exile, he even learned some ‘Englich’ in preparation for the life that he still hoped to have. 

He pinned his hopes on various members of the royal family in turn, only to be disappointed. He may even have lost the will to live when he realised that he would never return to Europe.

I never thought that I would have anything at all in common with Napoleon, but there are some familiar elements in a few of his letters. I know what it is like to live for some years on crumbs of hope, clutching at straws and desperately casting around for possibilities in the form of anything or anyone that might help to provide a way out of an unacceptable situation. 

Wishful thinking predominates, and ‘what if’ and ‘if only’ become major preoccupations. 

Living in such suspense is very painful; it is even worse when the last crumb of hope disappears.

Hope, the loss of hope and the absence of hope are major unseen influences in some people’s lives.

August Strindberg and some suspicious deaths

August Strindberg’s autobiographical novel Inferno is inspiring post after post. It is full of material relevant to this blog.

It took three articles to cover the story of the relationship between August Strindberg and his secret friend, the man who was determined to make Strindberg admire the works of Madame Blavatsky and become a theosophist.

The relationship operated on three levels: it can be looked at in terms of two men quarrelling and falling out, a cult member attacking a target who refused to be recruited and two black magicians having an occult battle.

There is something more to say the black magic aspect. This article will cover some suspicious deaths that Strindberg mentions in connection with the battle and its aftermath, the battle that took place only in their letters and on other dimensions as they never met in real life.

The first two deaths

Two prominent men just happened to die shortly after something relevant by Strindberg had been published, and the secret friend believed that Strindberg had caused the deaths.

In Strindberg’s own words:

“By a diabolical chance during our paper war, the following incident takes place: L'Initiation publishes an article by me which criticises the current astronomical system. A few days after its appearance Tisserand, the head of the Paris observatory, dies. In an access of mischievous humour I trace a connection between these two things, and mention also that Pasteur died the day after I published Sylva Sylvarum.

My friend, the theosophist, does not know how to take a joke, and being superstitious above the average, and perhaps, more deeply initiated in black magic than I, gives me clearly to understand that he regards me as a wizard.”

So Strindberg thought that the two deaths were just coincidences, but his secret friend blamed him for them. When it comes to the attribution of sinister occult powers, it is a case of the pots calling the kettles black. The two men really did deserve each other!

The Maharishi Yogi, the Beatles and Joyce Collin-Smith

In her book Call No Man Master, Joyce Collin-Smith suggests that the Maharishi Yogi used his occult powers to cause the deaths of two men. One was the Beatle John Lennon and the other was the Beatles’ agent Brian Epstein.

She believed that the Maharishi had the ability to influence events remotely. This belief was based on her own experiences of seeing him and other people in action. I have both read about and experienced many metaphysical phenomena, some of which have been mentioned on here as have some suspicious and/or convenient deaths, so I too believe that a few people have special powers, powers that are often used to harm others. 

Joyce Collin-Smith’s account of these deaths will be followed by some supporting material from various sources.

Benjamin Disraeli and the New World Order

This article contains more of the material I found while looking for answers to some of the outstanding questions I had about Benjamin Disraeli’s personality, beliefs, interests and activities.

There are allegations that Disraeli was involved with the New World Order. Did sinister forces conspire to put him into a very high and influential position? Was he a pawn and a puppet or a middleman? 

Was he even a member of the sinister organisations himself, working to further a secret agenda?

Could it just be immense amounts of persistence, ambition and determination that got him to the top of the world of politics – with the help of some patrons – or were unseen influences at work in his life? I suspect that they were.

Was it something he said?

It is Disraeli’s own words that have given some conspiracy theorists the idea that he had some connection with the Illuminati, the New World Order and similar secret organisations.

Here is a much-repeated line from his 1844 political novel Coningsby:

“So you see, my dear Coningsby, that the world is governed by very different personages from what is imagined by those who are not behind the scenes."

Another quotation from Coningsby:

"Governments do not govern, but merely control the machinery of government, being themselves controlled by the hidden hand..."

The hidden hand is often mentioned in connection with Freemasons; it is seen in portraits of great statesmen and leaders such as Napoleon.

Arthur Conan Doyle, Rudyard Kipling, and the Isle of Wight

When I visited Portsmouth and Southsea earlier this year, I thought about extending my explorations to another, nearby, seaside town - Ryde on the Isle of Wight. After walking around Southsea looking at places of interest, I didn’t have enough energy or inclination left, so I decided to leave it for another day. I had hoped to go much sooner, but I have finally made the trip.

Significant dates

Geoffrey Stavert, the author of A Study in Southsea: The Unrevealed Life of Doctor Arthur Conan Doyle, did some detective work and was reasonably confident that Conan Doyle arrived at Clarence Pier in Southsea on Saturday, June 24th 1882.

By coincidence, June 24th 2017 was a Saturday too, and I first intended to visit the island on that day; it seemed fitting that I would leave Clarence Pier on the same day and date that Conan Doyle arrived. However, it was a day when the weather was not very good and I didn’t feel like going anywhere.

I kept postponing this trip in favour of other things, until I realised that autumn was upon us. September 22nd was the day of the Autumn Equinox, so I thought that would be a good day to go.

Journey to Ryde on the Isle of Wight

I returned to Southsea, then travelled by Hovercraft over the Solent to Ryde.

I have made this journey before, but on those occasions Kipling and Doyle were not involved. I lived in Ryde for a short time when I was four years old, and I went back there just for personal reasons. This time, I was aware of some relevant associations.

Unseen influences on the Isle of Wight

The Isle of Wight has a bad reputation. There are allegations of Satanism, black magic and mysterious goings on. Freemasons in business and local government are alleged to have inordinate influence on the island’s affairs. David Icke, who lives in Ryde, is one of the many people who have written about this.

I will never know why my family moved to Ryde – and some other places with interesting and sinister connections. I suspect that someone was following some kind of psychic trail.

Benjamin Disraeli: three Napoleons and The Revolutionary Epic

I found the material for this article while looking for answers to some questions I had about Benjamin Disraeli. I wanted to know whether, despite the allegations of his enemies and detractors, he had any sincere beliefs. Did he have strong convictions about anything, or were his views changeable and just adopted from expediency?

I found that he did have some genuine and firmly-held beliefs.

The Revolutionary Epic
One thing that Disraeli definitely believed in was his own genius. 

Another belief was that men are best influenced and governed by appeals to their imagination and by someone charismatic whom they could adore and obey. Someone they could hero-worship was what the people wanted. Romance was superior to reason when it came to leadership. He was right in that many people certainly do want their gods to be in human form.

These two beliefs came together in one of his attempts to make a name for himself as a creative writer.

In 1834, when he was 29 years old, he published his poem The Revolutionary Epic on this theme. It dealt with the French Revolution and the career of Napoleon Bonaparte. He considered it to be his masterpiece, the best thing he had ever done. It was going to show the world what a great genius he was, bring him fame and fortune and immortalise his name. 

Or so Disraeli thought.

Benjamin Disraeli: Imperium Et Libertas, death and primroses

Benjamin Disraeli died on April 19th, 1881.

Protocol did not permit Queen Victoria to attend his funeral, but she sent two wreaths of primroses with a simple message attached: “His favourite flowers.”

She used to dispatch many bunches of primroses from Osborne House, her holiday home on the Isle of Wight, to Disraeli, for which he always thanked her effusively. Perhaps he was just being polite; perhaps he really did like primroses more than any other flower.

Queen Victoria sent primroses to Disraeli’s grave at his home in High Wycombe on each anniversary of his death until 1901, when she herself died.

Some people allege that by ‘his’, Queen Victoria meant Prince Albert’s!

Either way, because of what she wrote and sent, primroses became associated with Disraeli’s name and were featured in two legacies, Primrose Day and The Primrose League.

Primrose Day

On the first anniversary of Disraeli’s death, many people in London wore primroses in their hats and buttonholes as a tribute to the great statesman who had done so much for his country and the British Empire.

This established a tradition; for decades to come April 19th was Primrose Day, which became an unofficial national holiday until the First World War.

On the day, people made pilgrimages to Disraeli’s grave and to his statue near the Parliament that was his Mecca.

As late as 1916, Pathé News filmed the laying of a wreath of primroses at Disraeli’s statue outside the Palace of Westminster.

No other Prime Minister’s death has been honoured in this way.

Benjamin Disraeli: clothes, debts and a very happy marriage

I have been looking at more information about Benjamin Disraeli’s life, personality and political career. He is still a man of mystery to me. Perhaps describing and contemplating the aspects, good and bad, that have interested and affected me the most will help me to decide what sort of man he really was and how sincere his views were.

This article describes some personal aspects that caught my attention.

Disraeli the dashing dandy

Benjamin Disraeli’s exotic appearance was a major factor in his life.

I have noticed many references in Victorian writings to coal-black eyes. This is odd; I have never seen anyone like that. Perhaps it was just a convention for describing very dark brown eyes. It is also possible that the dim lights they used enlarged people’s pupils so their eyes appeared black.

Disraeli too was described as having coal-black eyes, and he had glossy black hair too. His family was of Italian origin – just like Marie Corelli, he claimed Venetian ancestry - so perhaps this was where the dark colouring came from.

His appearance meant that he could never pass as typically English, so he exploited his looks and went to the other extreme. He became an exhibitionist. He cultivated a flamboyant and exotic image, when he was a young man at least. He modelled himself on Lord Byron and developed a very colourful, striking and outrageous style of dressing in order to attract attention.

For example, he was seen in -

“…a black velvet coat lined with satin, purple trousers with a gold band running down the outside seam, a scarlet waistcoat, long lace ruffles, falling down to the tips of his fingers, white gloves with several brilliant rings outside them, and long black ringlets rippling down upon his shoulders.”

Another notably ostentatious outfit consisted of green velvet trousers with a yellow waistcoat, shoes with silver buckles and lace at his wrists again.

He is said to have worn rouge, powder and perfume too.

He caused a big sensation when walking in central London:

"He came up Regent Street when it was crowded wearing his blue surtout, a pair of military light blue trousers, black stockings with red stripes, and shoes! 'The people,' he said, 'quite made way for me as I passed. It was like the opening of the Red Sea...Even well-dressed people stopped to look at me. I should think so!'"

Men usually wore boots not shoes at the time, which explains why his footwear was mentioned.

Perhaps he was acting a part; perhaps he was making his presence felt; perhaps he just enjoyed the attention.

Other people’s descriptions are better than nothing, but I wish that I could have seen Disraeli in all his glory for myself. He would have been a sight well worth seeing.

Disraeli and the ideal marriage

His critics alleged that Disraeli had no genuine feelings. His well-documented attachment to his wife Mary Anne, formerly Mrs Wyndham Lewis, proves them wrong. He just does not seem like a user or manipulator where she is concerned.

There was a lot of good feeling on both sides; they were devoted to each other. She was exactly what he needed; she provided the financial, emotional and practical support necessary for his political career.

Mary Anne Disraeli has been described as a loud, talkative, over-painted, over-dressed, social-climbing oddity whose speech and behaviour were often bizarre.

Many people disliked her, and Queen Victoria said that she was very vulgar. Disraeli would not permit any criticism of his wife, and when someone once asked him in effect how he could stand it, replied, “Gratitude”.

This sounds sincere, and anyone who can feel genuine gratitude can’t be all bad.

Disraeli had good reason to feel grateful towards Mary Anne. She had rescued him, settled his debts and promoted his political career. He might never have achieved his goal of becoming Prime Minister and a great statesman without her.

She took care of her Dizzy. In return, she got his loyalty and devotion, not to mention a lot of very romantic letters and speeches. 

She was 12 years his senior and 47 when they married, but throughout the 33 years they were together he behaved as if she were young and beautiful. He wouldn’t hear a word against her.

It is a very touching and enviable relationship. They may have seemed a very odd couple to outsiders, but they brought out the best in each other and had something that many people do not, something that enabled Disraeli to say this after Mary Anne had died:

"Marriage is the greatest earthly happiness when founded on mutual sympathy.”

It is good to learn that he had some personal happiness in his life.

Disraeli and his dreadful debts

Benjamin Disraeli’s behaviour towards his wife may have shown him at his best; his attitude towards borrowing money and getting into debt is for me the worst element in his personality. 

He was very good at persuading people to lend him money and invest in his business enterprises.

He had borrowed and lost a fortune by the age of 21. His South American mining investment venture and the publishing enterprise both failed to bring in the huge amounts of money he had hoped to make for himself and his supporters.

Not doing everything possible to support oneself, not living within one’s means, having feelings of entitlement to other people’s resources, sponging off friends and acquaintances and asking to borrow more instead of paying back the original loan all seem very horrific to me.

Perhaps Disraeli would have asked what else could someone with expensive tastes, great ambition and little money of his own do. He said, “As a general rule, nobody has money who ought to have it.”

Perhaps he thought that living within one’s means was all very well for ordinary people, but such rules should not apply to a great but unrecognised genius. Some scruples were luxuries that he could not afford, and the end justified the means.

As Lord Stanley explained to Queen Victoria, “Mr Disraeli has had to make his position, and men who make their positions will say and do things which are not necessarily to be said or done by those for whom positions are made.”

This is very true!

Benjamin Disraeli: reaching the dizzy heights in politics

Benjamin Disraeli reached the supreme summit of his ambitions when he entered the House of Commons as Prime Minister in February 1868.

The politician who became affectionately known as ‘Dizzy’ had first entered Parliament in 1837. He was jeered and shouted down when, as MP for Maidstone, he made his maiden speech. He sat down in defeat, saying, “I sit down now, but the time will come when you will hear me.”

His prophecy came true.

Lord Melbourne, who had condescendingly explained to Disraeli in 1834 why the likes of him could never become Prime Minister, said in 1848 after hearing that Disraeli had become Leader of the Opposition, “By God! The fellow will do it yet.”

He was right. Unfortunately, Melbourne didn’t live long enough to see his words come true.

What might be called The Politician’s Progress had been an uphill battle.

Disraeli spent around three quarters of his political career in opposition, some of it between terms as Prime Minister. He would have needed preternatural amounts of ambition, endurance, patience, persistence and determination, not to mention patronage by prominent people and emotional support, to recover from all the disappointments, setbacks, opposition and criticism, overcome all his handicaps, stay the course and reach his goal.

Was it all worth it?

Only Disraeli himself could tell us whether the game was worth the candle; all we can do is speculate.

I have seen what happens to some people when they concentrate obsessively on getting something, often to the exclusion of everything else.

Some of them attract forces that stop them getting it.

Some end up with what seems like a fifth-rate travesty of what they really wanted. In other cases, everything backfires and they get the exact opposite of what they had hoped for, perhaps losing what they already had.

None of this was for Benjamin Disraeli: he got exactly what he wanted. He became very powerful politically and all the top people knew who he was. He moved in the highest circles in the land. Queen Victoria became his friend.

Benjamin Disraeli: progressing in politics

Benjamin Disraeli has been called the most gifted Parliamentarian of the 19th century and a first class orator, writer and wit.

Twice Prime Minister, he played a major part in the creation of the modern Conservative Party. He also made the Tories the party most identified with the glory and power of the British Empire: he brought India and the Suez Canal under the control of the British crown.

Reading in Disraeli: a Personal History by Christopher Hibbert about Disraeli’s rise from relative obscurity to international renown and what he called ‘the top of the greasy pole’ makes me wonder how he did it, why he did it and which, if any, subterranean forces were at work to move him into such a high position. These articles are a record of my attempts to understand what was going on and to answer those questions.

Getting in: the political party lottery

Although Disraeli may have decided on a political career in 1826, he didn’t do much about it until 1832. This was after his return from the Grand Tour of Europe and the Orient, a tour that restored him to health.

His long term goal was to become Prime Minister.

The first step in this direction was to get into the House of Commons as a Member of Parliament.  This entailed deciding which of the three political parties to campaign for.

The Tory, or Conservative, Party was considered to be worn out at the time, a lost cause, and Disraeli didn’t want to attach himself to a falling star; he couldn’t bring himself to be a Whig (who became the Liberals), so in 1832 he decided that he would campaign as a Radical.

After making a few unsuccessful attempts to get into Parliament by standing as an Independent Radical, in 1835 Disraeli changed his political affiliations and campaigned as a Tory.

For Disraeli, the end was much more important than the means; he felt that he had to do whatever it took to reach his goal. He was in no position to have scruples. Perhaps he changed parties because he felt that time was running out; he was going nowhere with the Radicals so had not got much to lose by joining the Conservatives.

He lost a by-election in 1835. He was then offered the safe seat of Maidstone, and easily defeated his Whig opponent in the general election of 1837.

He was in! He had finally made it at the age of 32. His decision to switch parties had paid off.

Benjamin Disraeli: getting started in politics

Disraeli: a Personal History by Christopher Hibbert is just one of the many available biographies of Benjamin Disraeli, Prime Minister and Earl of Beaconsfield. It is the only one that I have read in full. 

I read it because I hoped to find more examples of unseen influences at work in Disraeli’s life. I finished it feeling slightly disappointed as I did not find many examples of what I was looking for.

I also felt a little disillusioned; the great statesman felt drawn to Westminster not by a vocation or calling, not by principles, ideology or any sense of public service but by self-interest, inordinate ambition and vanity. The desire for fame and the need to make his presence felt at the highest levels of society were Disraeli’s main reasons for entering politics. He decided that a political career was the best route for getting where he wanted to go. 

The immunity of Members of Parliament from being arrested for debt had something to do with it too.

With information from the book and some that I found online, I have enough relevant and inspiring material for another article or two about this fascinating man.

Paving the way for the great destiny to come

Benjamin Disraeli’s father Isaac (D’Israeli) had all of his children baptised into the Church of England, although he himself never abandoned Judaism. Benjamin was 12 years old when Isaac took this unusual step, which was fortunate for him as otherwise he would never have been able to have a political career.

Predictions of the great destiny to come

I was amused to learn that Disraeli played Parliament games with his siblings as a boy. He was Prime Minister and the others were the Opposition.

In Disraeli’s autobiographical novel Contarini Fleming - A Psychological Romance, which was published in 1834 before he was even a Member of Parliament, Contarini’s father makes a prophecy that his son will become Prime Minister of some great state. 

Benjamin Disraeli and some more unseen influences

Benjamin Disraeli the eminent Victorian, the prime minister of what was at the time the greatest power on earth, the statesman and superb orator who was also a novelist, essayist and supreme letter writer, has been extensively studied and written about.

I can’t compete with or add anything to the coverage of many aspects of his life, his brilliant political career in particular, but in any case my main interest is in the unseen influences that I believe were operating behind the scenes.

Curses, cursing and convenient deaths

I have already written about some deaths that were very convenient for Mr Disraeli. I have just read something in a review of the biography Disraeli: a Personal History by Christopher Hibbert that gives further support to my suspicions:

"There was a streak of icy vengefulness in his temperament; even as a young man he had written down and filed away the names of those who crossed him. 'Something usually happens to them.'"

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2004/nov/13/featuresreviews.guardianreview8

So Disraeli had a little list! So it was not only innocent people who happened to be in his way who suffered the consequences of his feelings towards them. So in the case of his enemies, the ill-wishing was deliberate.

This discovery has made me want to do a full investigation.

In the meantime, a little research exercise has found some familiar features.  It seems to me that his unsatisfactory (to Disraeli) starting position in life, his inordinate ambition combined with his creative personality and the setbacks he experienced made him someone who might well have attracted the attention of whatever it is that operates below the surface in the lives of selected people.

Mayor and Llewelyn Davies connections: a tangled web

This article consists of material left over from my recent post about convenient deaths associated with the Austen, Mayor and Disraeli families. While doing the research for that post, I came across some information, leads and connections that I wanted to follow up. I decided to stick to the main subjects and leave the extra material and further research for another time.

Mary Sheepshanks and her connections

Flora M. Mayor was a lifelong friend of the social reformer Mary Sheepshanks. Mary Sheepshanks knew Flora’s fiancé Ernest Shepherd; Flora at one time believed that Ernest preferred Mary. Mary actually had feelings for someone else:

“In 1905 Mary Sheepshanks fell in love with Theodore Llewelyn Davies. However, he was in love with Meg Booth, the daughter of social investigator, Charles Booth. After she refused him, Davies committed suicide. “

Suicide is only suspected: he drowned while bathing alone in a pool in the River Lune. It is thought that he hit his head on a rock. He was 34 years old at the time.

Theodore Llewelyn Davies was uncle to the five Llewelyn Davies brothers, one of whom also drowned in a suspected suicide pact.

Disraelis and Mayors: more convenient deaths

I have written elsewhere about the convenient – and possibly suspicious - deaths of the men who were engaged to be married to Jane Austen’s sister Cassandra and J M Barrie’s sister Maggie.

In both cases, the bereaved young women remained available to their siblings as their main source of companionship, emotional support and admiration. In other words, both Jane Austen and J. M. Barrie benefitted from the deaths of the men who would have been their brothers-in-law.

I have found two more cases of interest, with similar elements.

Alice Mayor and F. M. Mayor

Flora Macdonald Mayor wrote novels and short stories under the name F. M. Mayor, mostly between 1913 and 1929. She had an identical twin sister, Alice. Just like Jane Austen, Flora had brothers but only the one sister.

Flora spent some time at university, where she did not do particularly well. She spent the next seven years looking for an occupation. She hoped to succeed as a professional actress, but that too did not turn out very well. The life was hard, the glamour faded, and she became tired of the lifestyle and the squalid lodgings.

People in such situations often dream of deliverance. Salvation came in the form of a young architect called Ernest Shepherd, who, just like Cassandra Austen’s fiancé, could not afford to get married immediately so hoped to make his fortune overseas. 

He was accepted for a well-paid job in India, and this enabled him to propose to Flora. He then left for India. Although she was not happy at the prospect of being separated from her family, Flora agreed to join him later in the year: they would then get married.  Unfortunately, he died of typhoid fever out there while she was still in England.

Alice MacDonald Mayor had not been in favour of the marriage. She was desolate at the thought of losing her twin to India. Just like the Austen sisters, the two Mayor girls lived closely together for their remaining years. Flora died at the age of 59; Alice lived on for another 29 years.