The Mitford family was typical of the English lower country gentry, although it could boast that its family roots go back to the Norman conquest of England. Some of the family’s ancestors were also public office-holders in Northumberland, where the family manor house stood in Mitford. Not being of the high nobility was an embarrassment for them, as they were rarely invited to go fox hunting.
The younger branch of the family prided themselves on being descended from the historian William Mitford, and were raised to the peerage as Barons Redesdale in 1802 and 1902. David Bertram Freeman – Mitford, 2nd Lord Redesdale, and his wife Sidney Bowles, who married in 1904, were a prolific couple with seven children; six girls and one son. And it was these six girls and their turbulent lives that made the family famous throughout Europe.
Their scandals have filled the newspapers. Each of the six daughters lived a life worth writing a book about. Diana was a fascist, Jessica a communist, Unity in love with Hitler, Nancy a novelist, Deborah a duchess and Pamela a chicken expert. The sisters’ lives were already controversial when they were young. They called their father, whose moods were always unpredictable and his tantrums legendary, simply Farve, and their mother, whose sarcasm and irony were feared by all, Muv. The couple were considered eccentric even among aristocrats and in English circumstances.
Until the start of World War I, the couple crossed the Atlantic every two years to prospect for gold on land they had bought in the Canadian province of Ontario. Of course, they found nothing and the project, like many others, failed ignominiously. Back home in England, the family lived apart from their neighbours, and their father never had a kind word for them. To him, Germans were Huns, the French were frogs, and he hated Americans, blacks, Catholics and Jews. He rarely entertained any of his relatives at the Manor House, and Churchill was one of the few guests, as Lord Redesdale was a cousin of Clementine, Winston Churchill’s wife. All other guests, including his daughters’ friends, were whipped out of the manor.
The children grew up in an aristocratic country mansion with emotionally cold parents. Only the numerous servants brought some variety to the life of the manor. Lady Redesdale taught her own children until the age of eight, when she left Nancy (1904), Pamela (1907), Diana (1910), Unity (1914), Jessica (1917) and Deborah (1920) to governesses. None of the girls attended a school for any length of time, as everyone expected them to marry young, of course to a wealthy suitor.
The mother, who was strict, cold and unapproachable with her daughters, was convinced that the girls’ education should not cost more than the cost of the chicken farm she managed. Only her only son, Thomas, was allowed a proper education. Only with Unity, their wildest daughter, did the parents make an exception. They sent her from one institution to another, but she did not last long in any of them. She was not thrown out of any of them, which was too harsh a measure for those days, but in all of them she was asked to leave the school on her own.
Unity Valkyrie – named Valkyrie by her father, a great admirer of Wagner’s music – was already very big at the age of twelve, terrorising the other sisters with her big blue eyes and staring gaze, and was the fear and trembling of all the governesses.
On 30 January 1929, 15-year-old Unity was a bridesmaid at the “wedding of the year”, along with several other girls. Her beautiful sister Diana married Bryan Guinness of the Guinness beer empire. Bryan, an Eton and Oxford graduate, was then considered the most desirable son-in-law in England. But even now Lord Redesdale grumbled, as he was not in favour of the young couple enjoying high society. Despite the Great Depression, there was no shortage of lavish and wild parties, and the young couple were missing out on very few of them.
In July 1932, Unity was first introduced to the public at a lavish ball given by the Guinnesses. With her blonde mane and 180 centimetres, she was a head taller than the other girls and, with her brocade dress and fake diamond tiara on her head, she shone like a peacock. Although she was considered unmanageable, she was invited to balls at Lord Rothschild’s, the Salisbury, the Waldorf Astor and to dinners at “Cousin” Churchill’s.
In the summer of 1932, her sister Diana and her husband Bryan staged a masked dance that changed her life permanently and radically. Among those invited was millionaire and rising politician Sir Oswald Mosley. Still a socialist at the start of his career, he turned his back on the party and founded his own party, modelled on the German NSDAP, and also had his own group of subversives called Active Force.
He was burned in the elections and, disappointed, visited his role model Mussolini, who advised him to cling to fascism. He did so, helped by his beautiful wife Cynthia, daughter of the former Viceroy of India, Lord Curzon. But despite all her help, he eventually left her, meeting Diana Guinness at a masked ball dressed in fascist black. They fell in love, Diana and her two children left her husband and moved in with him.
Lord Redesdale was horrified to read in the newspapers that his daughter Diana had left her husband and moved in with the still-married Mosley, who was 15 years her senior. For a long time, the scandal filled the social chronicles of the newspapers.
In June 1933 Unity met Mosley for the first time and became aware of his greeting Hail the fascist! It soon joined the newly formed British Union of Fascists, the BUF. Although the new party was supported by some media moguls, it was obvious at first glance that it was a pure copy. Members had to address Mosley as Leader, wear black Italian fascist uniforms, the coat of arms was adapted from that of the German SS, and the aim of the programme was to seize power.
“We British fascists believe that our leader, Sir Oswald Mosley, has the determination and the intelligence to pull this country out of the quagmire into which it has fallen. Soon the roads will echo with the footsteps of our Black Battalions and we will show the world that the spirit of our forefathers is still alive…”
I’m going to Munich
British fascists never had more than 30,000 members and public interest in them soon waned. But this did not dampen Unity’s enthusiasm for them. Dressed in fascist uniform, it regularly took part in marches through the streets and suburbs of London, as the Leader hoped to gain support for his inflammatory slogans against the Jews. She decorated her room with pictures of Mosley, Hitler and Mussolini. To the anger of her parents, she often greeted them with a fascist salute and shouted fascist slogans.
Lord Redesdale also protested unsuccessfully against the many Lenin statues in his mansion, which had been erected by his daughter Jessica, a suddenly enthusiastic supporter of communism. So there were two sheep in the family; the “black sheep” Unity and the “red sheep” Jessica.
The theories of fascism and national socialism did not interest Unity at all. She liked the rumbling music of the marches, she admired the parades with the flags with the dead heads, the shouts of hail and the beautiful party uniforms. So it saddened her when the British government banned the wearing of party uniforms in 1936. All the fascist pomp distanced her from the dullness of everyday life. She soon realised that the BUF was a poor imitation of the German NSDAP, so her attention turned to Germany. When the sisters asked themselves the classic question of what they would do one day, Unity replied, “I’m going to Munich to meet Hitler.” Jessica replied, “I will go away and become a communist.” Finally, Deborah announced, “I’m going to marry the Duke.”
In 1933, shortly before the NSDAP Party Congress, Unity and her sister Diana travelled to Germany to reach Hitler through the head of the NSDAP’s Inland section, Ernst Hanfstaengl. Hanfstaengl was no stranger to them, having once performed in London as a talented amateur pianist. He tried to arrange a meeting with Hitler, but his secretary resisted.
In September 1933, the sisters were part of an official BUF delegation to the NSDAP Party Congress. The photograph shows them standing next to William Joyce, an Englishman who defected to Germany at the outbreak of war in 1940 to host English propaganda broadcasts on German radio. In 1946, he was hanged in London for high treason. On their return home, the sisters found a letter from their parents, expressing their disappointment that they were “accepting the hospitality of people who are nothing but a murderous band of insects”.
Unity spent the winter of 1933/34 at home, convincing her parents of the importance of improving her German. In the end, Lord and Lady Redesdale were really convinced that their daughter wanted to be educated and allowed her to study German in Munich. Unity travelled there in the spring of 1934, accompanied by Rebello, a large black Great Dane, and took up residence in a boarding school for girls from the upper classes, a sort of combination language school and boarding school. She could not go to university because she did not have the necessary certificates.
She wrote to Hitler as soon as she arrived in Munich, but received no reply. Then she heard from someone that Hitler and his entourage dined more or less regularly at the Osteria Bavaria. Of course, she did not have to stand outside the restaurant with the other screaming women waiting to see Hitler, because her father had given her enough money to be able to have lunch every day at this place, which was particularly popular with artists. So many times did she sit near Hitler’s table that one day he asked one of his companions: ‘Who is that tall German woman’? And one day he invited her to the table.
Hitler also felt honoured that a member of British high society, whom he admired so much, had come to Germany just for him. He was convinced that in Britain there were people at the top of society who were prepared to live in harmony with Germany. In early April 1935, Unity and two other ladies of English origin were invited to lunch at his flat in Munich. Soon after, Unity was seen at Hitler’s side at the biggest social event of the year; Hermann Göring’s wedding to the actress Emmy Sonnemann.
After this event, the doors of all Munich salons were automatically opened to the two English women, Unity and Diana. Unity became a friend of Winifred Wagner and Helene Hanfstaengl. When she came to Berlin, she stayed at Goebbels’ private residence and went sailing on Lake Wannsee with Magda Goebbels. Mostly, however, she was in Munich waiting for Hitler’s adjutant to ask her to join him for lunch at the Osteria Bavaria.
But she was not the only one who wanted his company. Eva Braun was also waiting for his phone call. It came out of nowhere, but she received a private letter from Mrs Hoffmann, the wife of Hitler’s official photographer, in which she politely informed her that Hitler had already found a replacement for her. The replacement was to be called Valkyrie, and Eva Braun knew that her chances were slim.
While Unity moved in the highest social circles of Germany, Eva Braun had to remain in the background, officially as just one of the dictator’s secretaries. In desperation, she took a large quantity of sleeping pills on 28 May 1935. This was her second suicide attempt. The fact that her beloved firer was seeing an insignificant saleswoman, Eva, of course seemed completely absurd to Unity. She wanted to consolidate her position in the Nazi state, so she wrote a letter to the ultra-radical Nazi newsletter Der Stürmer; it caused an international sensation.
“I admire you as an English fascist. I have lived in Munich for a year and I read your newsletter every week. If only in England they had newspapers like this. There people are not even aware of the Jewish danger … I am waiting for the day when we in England will be so strong that we can call England English. Away with the Jews. With a German salute! Heil Hitler. Unity Mitford.”
It was a letter from the readers, just as Julius Streicher, the publisher of the newspaper, wanted it to be. He quickly realised how useful an Englishwoman could be to him. Unity soon became a regular guest at Streicher’s and one day Julius even took her on a tour of a labour camp. She was the only foreigner to be given a place of honour in high Nazi society.
In August 1935, Unity celebrated its twentieth birthday among Nazi friends. Her sister Diana had also moved to Munich, as her marriage had been dissolved due to the illegitimacy of her husband Bryan in a Brighton hotel. Bryan took the blame in a gentlemanly manner and paid her a huge indemnity. She was now able to live in Munich and receive visits from her sister Unity and her lover Mosley.
In the same year, Lord and Lady Redesdale travelled to Germany to see for themselves what their daughters were doing. Hitler invited them to tea with him and charmed them with his skillful oratory. When the Lord returned home to England, he gave a speech in the House of Lords praising Hitler as a peace-loving politician, describing his successes in reducing unemployment and telling of the social progress of the Third Reich.
At the end of 1935, Unity was admitted to the Nazi Party and Hitler himself gave it a party badge. In the following years, she travelled frequently between Germany and England, serving as Hitler’s unofficial carrier of various personal messages. The naive and courageous Unity never understood this role, but always considered herself an important and skilful fascist politician, and was happy to bask in the limelight of the international press.
Among the Nazi elite
As a member of English high society, she also kept a close eye on her social standing in Germany. While she made some necessary compromises when socialising with party members, who were generally all of no important origin, she made none in her private life. She avoided contact with the “lower classes”. She sought and found suitable company in her brother’s friend, the 42-year-old Janos von Almasy, who came from the old Hungarian nobility.
As a lover of astrology, the occult and unusual events, he was quite to her taste. At his Austrian estate in Burgenland, she spent hours in long discussions with his lame wife, the Princess Estarhazy. But not everyone in Germany thought the Englishwoman was sympathetic. “We called her a cow because she was big, strong and stupid.”
She also met Janos’ younger brother Laszlo, an aviator, adventurer and explorer of the Sahara who dared to fly deep into the interior of the Libyan desert. In 1941, he joined the German Afrika Korps, where his topographical knowledge was put to good use to smuggle spies into Egypt through the desert. Laszlo set a world record in 1941 with a single-engine plane, but died ten years later from the effects of an untreated dysentery. Fifty years later, his Saharan adventures were the basis for the character of Count Almasy in The English Patient.
Between 1935 and 1940, Hitler and Unity Mitford met about 140 times, Unity recording all the meetings in her diary in red ink, aware that each one sparked rumours. Hitler’s love life was the subject of interest in both Germany and England, although there the Redesdale family strenuously denied any personal connection between their daughter and the German dictator.
Albert Speer, Hitler’s architect, wrote in his diary, “One can easily see that she is madly in love with Hitler. She looks at him impassively and incessantly.” But the press articles in the British newspapers from Germany were met with reassuring news: “The Firer lives only for his nation and has no time for the law.” Hitler’s adjutant was able to say after the war, “She was never Firer’s mistress, because she was never alone with him.” For Hitler’s entourage, she was a mere object to be invited everywhere and to be respected. The party bigwigs were not happy, because in her presence Hitler talked about things that a stranger was not allowed to hear.
The Redesdale family’s interest in Nazi Germany was by no means exceptional, as the majority of foreign visits to Hitler were made by Englishmen. The so-called “pilgrimages” of Englishmen to Berlin and the Obersalzberg began in 1934 and reached a peak in 1937 and 1938. In his talks with politicians, noblemen and industrialists, Hitler always advocated cooperation between the two countries and made a good impression on his English visitors. “Why such distrust of Hitler? Why this effort to discover a dark motive in his every word? Give him a chance,” read one letter from a reader.
Although Lady Cynthia Mosley, still the official wife of British fascist leader Mosley, died suddenly in 1933, Diana Mitford and Oswald Mosley did not dare to legalise their union for a long time. In England, even a couple as unconventional as theirs were reluctant to marry. Everyone remembered all too well Oswald and Cynthia’s dream wedding, attended by the King and Queen of England and the Prime Minister.
But Propaganda Minister Goebbels, the master of celebrations and weddings, had a solution at hand. Diana and Oswald were married in the utmost secrecy in the salon of the German propaganda minister. Diana recalled the day: “I was wearing a yellow tunic, the sun was shining and the trees were turning yellow. It all went very quickly. The official said a few words, we exchanged rings and it was all over.” The wedding was so secret that the media knew nothing about it for two years, until Mosley himself broke the news to them.
At that time, Unity was already an integral part of the Nazi elite and accompanied Hitler on most of his trips to Germany. Hitler liked to be accompanied by a young, muscular blonde, and saw her as the feminine ideal of German beauty. In his entourage, Unity – still a British citizen – enjoyed the right to free speech. She knew how to use it well and never held her tongue. Goebbels marvelled: “Here was Mitford again, and she criticised Mussolini with complete shamelessness. I don’t understand that Firer allowed it …’ Firer let her talk, smiling amiably. The recollections of a German noblewoman who met Unity in Bayreuth were even more eloquent: “Her Heil Hitler sounds very nice. She is relaxed and confident. She is obviously aware of her worth.”
Winston Churchill, Unity Mitford’s “cousin”, who in the early 1930s still admired Hitler’s skill in rebuilding the country, was by 1937 already a determined opponent. But the Redesdale family was largely made up of Nazi sympathisers and the home BUF party, especially after his father Thomas, under the impression of German parades and speeches, declared himself a Nazi sympathiser.
The only exception was the family’s “red sheep”, the communist Jessica. Despite her father’s indignation, she read the Brown Book of Hitler’s Terror and scorned Unity and Diana when they came home to visit, claiming that the untruths about the Nazi regime were just Communist propaganda. She thought of it like this: “I could have pretended to be a Nazi, travelled to Germany with the two of them and stood in front of Hitler and shot him. But I love life too much to do such a thing. Years later, when I learned of the horrors of the Nazi regime and Europe was half destroyed, I regretted my lack of courage.”
Jessica remained loyal to communism and secretly became engaged to Esmond Romilly, a nobleman and Churchill’s relative. The lovers decided to leave for Spain in 1937, where the Civil War had already begun. Romilly was working as a correspondent for the News Chronicle. In the British newspapers one soon read: ‘Lord Redesdale’s daughter has fled to Spain with Churchill’s red nephew. The parents are inconsolable!”
Unity wrote in her diary: “Jessica is in Spain with Esmond. I am crying and crying some more.” After some legal complications, as their parents objected to their marriage, they were able to get married, but soon returned to London as Jessica was pregnant. They settled in the then poor industrial East End of London. A baby girl was born in December but died of measles a few months later. The heartbroken couple wondered what to do next.
A British agent?
Since Unity first met Hitler in the Osteria Bavaria, she has been under surveillance by the security services of both countries. Both the German military security service, the Abwehr, led by Admiral Canaris, and the British Secret Service have wondered whether Hitler’s admiration for the Englishwoman might not also have had deeper political motives. The Germans thought like this: “What does Miss Mitford want? Is she acting on orders from British Intelligence? Or on the orders of Churchill, to whom she is related? She is probably an agent, so we will follow her.”
Unity was, of course, not cut out to be a spy and never learned about German military secrets. Her role was personal. Hitler heard many personal things about Churchill through her and vice versa. She once paid a private visit to Churchill after the German occupation of Austria and told him how enthusiastic the Germans were about the Anschluss. She only encountered the anger and fury of the later Prime Minister, who condemned in the strongest terms the annexation of Austria to the German Reich.
But even the Nazi Party top brass wondered whether and to what extent Unity Mitford was influencing Firer’s English policy. In the fantasy of the Nazi top, it was thus given a role it never had. Even Rudolf Hess, Hitler’s former deputy, was still discussing its role in Hitler’s thinking about Germany-England relations decades after the end of the war, while he sat imprisoned in Berlin’s Spandau prison.
Hitler himself, years after Unity had left Germany, said: ‘Churchill and his clique had already agreed in some castles before 1939 to go to war against Germany. My source is Lady Mitford. She and her sisters knew a lot because they were related to important people …”
Hitler’s policy towards England began to change in the mid-1930s. He was convinced that he had overestimated Britain’s power and that was why his terminology was different: “The English governesses must get used to treating us on an equal footing.”
When he invaded Austria in March 1938, Unity was staying with the Almasys at Bernstein Manor. As soon as she heard what was happening, she rushed to Vienna. The well-informed English newspaper Evening Standard said: “When Hitler arrives in Vienna this evening, he will be greeted by his ardent admirer, Unity Mitford.” She told an interviewer in London a week later: “It broke my heart not to see him when he visited his birthplace near Linz. But I did see him when he popped into Vienna and then for a few minutes at his hotel. … It was wonderful.”
On 10 April 1939, the Labour Party held a demonstration in Hyde Park, London, against General Franco and the Spanish Civil War. Unity was one of the few who moved their flags close to the platform and tried to disrupt the speakers. The ensuing brawl was reported:
“Suddenly, someone snatched my crucifix out of my hands and called me names. I punched him in the face and was immediately surrounded by a menacing crowd. A woman insulted Hitler and I hit her. Stones started flying. A man helped me and the police made room for me to get to the bus. They shouted after me to go back to Germany.” Many newspapers reported on this, some even published a caricature of her and reported that “Reverend Unity Mitford” would apply for German citizenship.
Unity has also caused some outcry in Germany. Her sister Diana told the story: ‘We were staying at the Kaiserhof Hotel in Berlin. Unity wore her party badge on her new dress especially for the occasion. There were some fanatical women standing in our vicinity. They pointed their fingers at my sister and shouted that she had no right to do this and that she should be ashamed of herself for standing in front of the firer’s house with her make-up on.”
After occupying Austria, Hitler intended to annex the Sudetenland, where there was a strong German minority, to Germany. A committed Unity agitator, she understood that she had to help. She drove to the Sudetenland in her car, adorned with a peg cross, accompanied by an English fascist, and stood up with the Sudeten Germans.
On the way to Prague, it was stopped by Czechoslovak security authorities and closed down. They searched her luggage and found an SS dagger, a picture of Hitler, a camera and Nazi propaganda material. Nazi propaganda used this event to launch bilious attacks on a neighbouring country. The Czech sub-humans were to insult an innocent English tourist, just as they had insulted the poor suffering Sudeten Germans under the Czech yoke.
At that time, Unity became Firer’s official permanent companion on his travels around Germany. From 1937 to 1939, the Nazis held annual parades in Munich, the “capital of German culture”. They danced in the main square to the sound of the waltz, served goulash soup and had free beer on tap. In a nearby park, naked dancers from the State Ballet danced by torchlight, showcasing the power of the Amazons.
In July 1938, Hitler invited Unity to a three-day celebration in Munich. They had lunch alone at the Osteria Bavaria. Then they went to Bayreuth to see a play. Winifred Wagner invited her – albeit reluctantly – to his house in Wahnfried. Shortly afterwards Unity contracted pneumonia and Hitler took over the cost of her treatment and called his personal physician, Dr Morell, to her in Bayreuth. At the end of August, Lady and Lord Redesdale came to visit their sick daughter.
Meanwhile, Hitler’s incendiary speeches in the Sudetenland caused disorder and the government in Prague declared mobilisation. War seemed inevitable. In Britain, gas masks began to be mass-produced in 1938 and many homeowners began to build a private shelter in their garden. On 30 September 1938, Hitler, Chamberlain and Daladier signed an agreement in Munich that allowed Hitler to occupy the Sudetenland, while the rest of a truncated Czechoslovakia was guaranteed its existence. Peace was seemingly saved.
Unity spent the following winter months in London. Three days after Hitler invaded Czechoslovakia, she tried to come to Hitler’s aid with a rousing speech to her countrymen, as public opinion on the Island had completely turned against the German dictator. The newspaper thus printed her appeal for Anglo-German friendship and mentioned her assurance that Hitler wanted nothing but peace. They also printed a picture of the dictator and underneath it they wrote: “She wants us to make peace with this man who has just attacked an innocent country.”
The editorial office received 1200 letters from readers, and only 96 of them were in agreement with Unity. After that, events moved at lightning speed. At the end of April 1939, universal conscription was introduced in Britain. When Unity saw that there would never be any twinning between Britain and Germany, its world came crashing down.
She was only comforted by the fact that Hitler allowed her to call him Herr Wolf, a title that was only allowed to a few of his female admirers. The highest form of friendship, to address him by these, was never allowed to her. Shocked by the compulsory visa for travelling to Germany, which was introduced in June 1938, she decided to turn her back on her native country and move to Munich for good.
Hitler’s private office was ordered to find her a suitable flat in Munich. She had four to choose from, which she could move into immediately, as they had recently been aryanised. But she chose a three-bedroom flat in Schwabing, from which the terrified Jewish owners had not yet moved out. In front of the old Jewish couple, she measured the flat and made plans for the redecoration. The furniture was given to her by Hitler.
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Shot to the heart
At the end of July 1939, Unity and Diana, now married to Mosley, visited the Wagner Festival in Bayreuth as they did every year. On the last day, Hitler invited them to the Villa Wahnfried, where he was staying, and on 2 August told them that England had decided on war and that it was inevitable. That same evening, Unity told her sister that she did not want to live through this tragedy. On 5 August, at the Osteria Bavaria, where she first met Hitler, she met Herr Wolf for the last time before the outbreak of war.
Until the last moment, she hoped that the two countries would not come to blows. But her wishes were far from reality. On 3 August 1939, two days after Germany invaded Poland, British Ambassador Neville Henderson handed a declaration of war to Joachim Ribbentrop, the German Foreign Minister.
Hitler’s interpreter later slowly translated the English text for Hitler. When he had finished, there was silence in the hall, Hitler stared as if petrified, and then slowly said, “And now what?” Since there had been no armed conflict for months, Hitler was still convinced that the Western Allies would never move from a formal declaration of war to active warfare.
Diana Mosley lived through the outbreak of war in London. “We heard Chamberlain’s speech on the radio that England and Germany were at war. A few minutes later, the air-raid sirens started wailing. I thought of Unity, but there was no sign of it and I hoped nothing had happened to it.”
It later came to light that on the afternoon of 3 September, Unity had visited the Gauleiter of Upper Bavaria, Adolf Wagner, and handed him a sealed, thick envelope. He was convinced that Unity, as a British citizen, was worried about her future and wanted to deposit her papers and other documents with him.
He reassured her that he would take care of her safety. He opened the envelope only a few hours later. Inside were a signed picture of Hitler, her party badge and a farewell letter saying that she could not bear the war between England and Germany and that she would take her own life. He immediately alerted the police, but it was too late. On a park bench, Unity pointed her gun at her temple and fired. A policeman found her and, because she had no papers on her, he did not know who she was.
She was unconscious and rushed to the surgical ward of a university clinic. It was immediately discovered that the bullet was still in the back of her head. After many days of unconsciousness, she woke up, her face was severely clouded and her speech centre was damaged. She also had balance problems, her limbs were completely paralysed. She had to be fed and seemed mentally confused.
Meanwhile, Hitler was busy with the attack on Poland, and did not arrive in Munich until 8 November 1939 to visit her in the clinic. The doctors told him that her condition was still critical. She had now also lost the ability to speak. They advised against removing the bullet from her head because of the high risk.
Firer gave Unity a bunch of flowers and returned her party badge. She then spoke up and expressed her wish to return to England, then swallowed the Party badge in front of a furious Hitler. Hitler turned and walked away, no sympathy in his eyes. Later he said to his official photographer, Hofmann: “I am beginning to be afraid! Whenever I get personal with someone, I am misunderstood. I don’t bring happiness to women. It’s been like this all my life!”
His unscheduled visit to the clinic where Unity was lying completely disrupted his already packed agenda of visits and speeches. On this day, he was giving a speech in a Munich beer hall to commemorate the anniversary of the failed putsch of 1923, considered a landmark in the history of the Nazi movement. He seemed very nervous and the speech, which was to last a long time and which started at 8 pm, finished at 9.07 pm, turned round and left. He also gave up the usual socialising with old friends.
Eight minutes after he left the pub, a bomb hidden in a pillar behind the lectern exploded. The explosion killed seven people and injured 63 others. He was incredibly lucky.
The Munich clinic decided not to operate on Unity even afterwards, not least because they would not be accused of negligence in the event of a fatal outcome. Her friend Janos von Almasy came to Munich as soon as he heard of the suicide, and it was he who informed her parents of the tragedy. The Bavarian Ministry of the Interior made all the necessary arrangements for transport to London, and Almasy offered to accompany her.
Unity was brought to Munich train station on a stretcher. A special carriage was available for her, with a specially adapted bed. An ambulance was waiting for her in Bern to take her to the clinic where Almasy was to meet the English doctors. But they were nowhere to be found. Nevertheless, Unity’s health soon improved greatly in the Bern clinic. At Christmas, her mother and sister Deborah visited her, both frightened by the sight of her. Her face was drooping and they hardly recognised her. Her sunken cheeks were accentuated by her large teeth and her skin was dry and yellowish.
Her mother hired a Swiss Railways saloon car with medical equipment to take her to Calais for a large sum of money. Meanwhile, in London, Lord Redesdale was trying to arrange with the Secretary of State for War that Unity would not be questioned after her arrival. There were no reports of the event in Germany, as Goebbels, the Propaganda Minister, had ordered it. Only very vague rumours that something had happened reached England, but this was enough to ensure that Unity was met by a crowd of curious journalists already in Calais. They crowded around the stretcher on which Unity was carried, almost unconscious, to the ferry, which arrived at Folkerstone on 3 January 1940, escorted by fighter planes. Here, a crowd of journalists and reporters was already waiting for news.
At that time, England was already in full preparations for war. Armed troops were moving across the country, military police with mounted bayonets were guarding the approaches to the ports, and the Territorial Defence – poorly armed – was patrolling the beaches. The British government had ordered that no-one should approach Unity Mitford after disembarkation, so she was immediately surrounded by a crowd of police in the harbour. Film footage of her arrival in London became the media event of the year.
A motorcade of press cars followed her to High Wycombe, near London, where the Redesdale family had a small house. On the way, the curious residents greeted her disdainfully with Heil Hitler. The Daily Mail offered an unbelievable £5000 for a short interview with Hitler’s friend. Lord Redesdale, who was already in great financial difficulties and had to sell his properties one by one, refused and asked for police protection. Unity was soon taken to a clinic in Oxford, where she was re-examined by experts and found, like the German doctors, that the bullet could not be removed.
Just hours after Hitler launched his Western offensive on 10 May 1940, a change of government took place in Britain. Winston Churchill became Prime Minister and immediately formed a war cabinet from all parties. He put the British people on a realistic footing with his famous “I can offer you only blood, toil and sweat” speech.
On 22 May 1940, the government issued a decree making it possible to arrest all Nazi sympathisers and imprison them without trial. The next day, Mosley, the leader of the British fascists, was arrested and imprisoned in Brixton and his flat seized. Less than a month later, his wife Diana, who was breastfeeding their then eleven-week-old baby, was arrested. She was imprisoned in Holloway Women’s Prison. Her sister Nancy, who wanted to forget her enthusiasm for home-made black shirts, wondered, “How is it in Holloway? At 5.30 p.m., when the lights go out, Diana is probably sitting on the landing thinking about Adolf.”
The Mosleys were imprisoned until 1943, despite Lady Redesdale pressuring her relative Clementine Churchill to do something for Diana. From 1943 to 1945, the Mosleys were under house arrest, banned from travelling to London and from any political activity.
The fate of the family
With the help of her mother, Unity slowly learned to walk again, even though she was physically very weak. She suffered from memory loss, had only a vague recollection of Hitler and did not know that the Second World War had broken out. She needed constant care. The defeat of France and the evacuation of the British Expeditionary Corps from Dunkirk brought the war closer for the British, as Hitler was preparing to invade the British Isles. Lady Redesdale welcomed this, called Churchill a scoundrel and hoped that Hitler would treat the British better than he had the Poles.
Lord Redesdale, meanwhile, had already publicly distanced himself from Hitler and objected to his wife with all his might. Quarrel followed quarrel, and the couple divorced after 35 years of marriage. In 1936, Lord Redesdale, for reasons unknown to him, had already bought the small island of Inch Kenneth in the Hebrides, which could be crossed in less than two hours. No ships went there and there was virtually nothing there except the walls of the old monastery. This little island became his refuge.
Unity had her occasional bright moments and vaguely remembered that her life had once been different. She was delighted to marry her sister Deborah as it was a welcome break from the monotony of her life as a patient. With a fossilised smile and wearing a civilian dress to which she was no longer accustomed, she was seen on 19 April 1941 at the “war wedding of the year”. Twenty-one-year-old Deborah married Lord Cavendish, the same age.
When Lord Cavendish’s elder brother was killed in the war, Deborah became Duchess of Devonshire, living in the middle of a large park in a 111-room castle. Two of her sisters were not present at the wedding. Diana was in prison and Jessica, a communist, had already moved to America with her husband Romilly in 1939 and cut off all contact with the Redesdale family. Things did not go well for the couple in America, but Jessica, as a member of the Communist Party, still had to deal with radical left-wing circles, held various jobs and was permanently penniless.
For a long time, she hid her true origins. It was only when she gave birth to a daughter and was asked for her official birth details that she discovered the incredible story of six sisters. Her husband Rommily had joined the Canadian Air Force, hoping to be transferred to England where Jessica could join him. He disappeared in November 1941, returning by plane from a bombing raid over Germany, and was soon declared missing. Jessica later married a lawyer, stayed in America and took American citizenship.
When the Allies landed in Normandy on 6 June 1944, the Redesdales received the news in different ways. Jessica was overjoyed, Diana worried about her good friend Magda Goebbels. The only brother of six sisters, Thomas, who was also a fascist at heart, decided not to take part in the attacks on Germany and was therefore transferred to the battlefield in Burma, where he was killed as a soldier in 1945. Le Unity showed no emotion at any such conscience, because it did not understand the dramatic events. Lady Redesdale decided to move to the Hebridean island of Inch Kenneth with the ailing Unity. When Lord Redesdale heard this, he quickly fled from it.
By 1945, Unity’s condition had improved so much that she returned to the mainland, drove a car again, went to the cinema and church. She became religious and sought solace in various sects. In February 1948, her headaches recurred and she died on 28 May 1948, aged only 34. Her sister Nancy wrote: “We are all depressed and saddened because she had been doing quite well lately. She had lost weight, made herself pretty and was enjoying life. But her real happiness in life is long gone – she was a victim of war like so many others.”
The post-war fates of the other members of the Redesdale family were as different as their lives. Jessica and her new husband, a lawyer, were involved in a series of civil rights campaigns in the 1950s. In 1953, at the height of the “witch hunt” staged by US Senator MacCarthy, they were summoned to appear before the Senate for questioning about their anti-American activities, but refused to testify. Jessica died in 1996, aged 78, of lung cancer. She left several books of memoirs and polemical writings, some of which became bestsellers. Her funeral was as modest as possible, according to her wishes.
Nancy Mitford spent most of her adult life in France and wrote several books, some of them biographical. Pamela Mitford married a millionaire, divorced and lived in the countryside. Baron Redesdale was devastated by the death of his son Thomas. He retreated to his family estate and lived in complete isolation. When his daughter Nancy visited him one day, all she saw was a frail old man. He died in 1958 and was buried at Swinbrook, where his three daughters, Unity, Diana and Nancy, are also buried. Lady Redesdale, mother of six daughters and one son, outlived her former husband and died in 1963 at the age of 83, stricken with Parkinson’s disease. Daughter Deborah outlived them all and said goodbye to life at a late age in 2014.
