The Mitfords: Letters between Six Sisters

Diana made several visits to Germany before the war and in 1936 she and Mosley were secretly married in the Berlin house of Nazi leader Joseph Goebbels, with Hitler as a guest. Ostensibly the secrecy was to protect Mosley’s political image but the main purpose was to keep the press from discovering the reasons for Diana’s frequent trips to Germany. The British Union of Fascists was in urgent need of funds and, with the help of a member, Bill Allen, who was an advertising magnate, Mosley had developed a scheme to set up a commercial radio station on German soil from which to broadcast to southern England. (No advertising was allowed on British wireless at the time and companies had no means of promoting their goods on the airwave.) Diana’s friendship with Hitler and other Nazi officials placed her in an ideal position to negotiate a deal, but it was essential that the connection between the proposed radio station and Mosley was not made public since the BUF’s unpopularity would almost certainly have led advertisers to boycott the project. It also suited Mosley to keep his marriage secret because he was still carrying on an affair with his sister-in-law. At the end of 1938, Diana successfully obtained Hitler’s agreement to the project and the station would have started broadcasting the following year had war not put an end to the venture. The birth of the Mosleys’ first son, Alexander, in November 1938, coincided with the signing of the contract and precipitated public disclosure of their marriage.

Diana’s closest confidante in the family during this period was Unity and they wrote to each other regularly during the pre-war years. Their correspondence, especially Unity’s, forms the bulk of surviving letters from the late 1930s. Incongruously written in the gushing tones of breathless excitement normally reserved for romantic fiction, the two sisters’ letters about Nazi Germany unavoidably dominate this section.

In the autumn of 1933, sixteen-year-old Jessica and her first cousin Ann Farrer travelled to Paris. Here they attended classes at the Sorbonne and lived with a Madame Paulain who was conveniently lax about chaperoning her charges and allowed the girls to slip out unobserved to nightclubs and the Folies-Bergère. In letters to her mother Jessica was careful not to mention these escapades but she did describe the riots that broke out in Paris following the sacking of the city’s right-wing police chief. She quoted from the communist daily, l‘Humanité, as well as from the Daily Mail, and expressed regret that her quartier had been much too quiet during the unrest. On returning to England, she endured a season as a debutante, a custom that went against her progressive principles but which she confessed to have been ‘rather guiltily looking forward to’. In 1935, Jessica read two more books that influenced her deeply: The Brown Book of the Hitler Terror, published in 1933, which detailed the horrors perpetrated after the burning of the Reichstag when communist and other opponents of the Nazis were rounded up, savagely beaten and in some cases murdered; and Out of Bounds: The Education of Giles and Esmond Romilly, written by two rebellious young cousins of the Mitfords. The Romilly brothers were the sons of Clementine Churchill’s sister, Nellie, and nephews by marriage, therefore, of Winston Churchill. Esmond’s contribution to Out of Bounds enthralled Jessica because his attitudes and opinions were so similar to her own. As a schoolboy at Wellington College, Esmond had interrupted Armistice Day commemorations by distributing anti-war leaflets, started a subversive magazine attacking public schools and, aged sixteen, had run away to work in a left-wing London bookshop. Jessica had followed his exploits – the subject of scandalized family gossip – for several years and hero-worshipped her cousin from afar, judging her own revolt against parental authority trivial by comparison.

In early 1937, Jessica and Esmond met by chance at the house of a cousin. Esmond had recently come back from Spain, where he had been fighting with the International Brigades and where he was planning to return as correspondent for the News Chronicle. For nineteen-year-old Jessica, this was the chance to translate her romantic idealism into reality and she begged Esmond to take her with him. They improvised a plan to trick the Redesdales into believing that Jessica was on holiday with friends, drew the money out of her ‘running-away’ account and disappeared to Spain. It was two weeks before their ruse was discovered. Nancy and Peter, to whom it was thought Jessica would be most likely to listen, went out to try to persuade her to come home but the attempt ended in a bitter row. Jessica had made up her mind and she and Esmond were married in Bayonne on 18 May, with Lady Redesdale in attendance. If there was any residual element of playfulness about Jessica’s politics – Nancy used teasingly to call her a ‘ballroom communist’ – it was eradicated by her marriage to Esmond, which also marked the beginning of a hardening in her feelings towards her family. Esmond was not amused by Unity’s friendship with the ‘sweet’ Führer, and although Diana had sided with Jessica over her elopement, Esmond’s hatred of fascism was unconditional.

Jessica’s break with Diana was final and, except in 1973 when Nancy was dying, they did not meet or correspond after 1937. Whenever Unity was in England, however, Jessica would arrange to see her – without Esmond’s knowledge – and although few of their letters from the period have survived, they continued to write to each other up to, and after, the war. That Jessica never broke with Unity as she had done with Diana – Nazism, after all, was no less abhorrent to her than fascism – highlights the complexity of the relations between the sisters. In a letter to her mother, Jessica wrote that she considered Diana a dangerous enemy and the fact that she ‘was once related’ to her made no difference to her feelings, yet in the very same letter she sent her love to Unity. In Unity’s last letter to her parents before she tried to kill herself, she sent ‘particular love’ to Jessica. Perhaps the close ties Jessica and Unity had formed as children were too strong to break, or perhaps Unity’s childishly boastful behaviour masked her sincerity of purpose and meant that Jessica could never take her seriously. Or did Jessica recognize in Unity a fellow zealot whom she could respect, even though they were at opposite ends of the political spectrum? Whatever the reasons, Unity’s espousal of Nazism remained an unsolvable riddle to her sister. ‘Why had she’, Jessica mused, ‘to those of us who knew her the most human of people, turned her back on humanity?’

In February 1939, Jessica and Esmond left for the United States. They had expected a storm of indignation to greet Chamberlain’s signing of the Munich Agreement, which handed over part of Czechoslovakia to Germany, and when it did not materialize the spectre of a completely Nazified Europe no longer seemed remote. Esmond looked to America for a new adventure, somewhere to explore while waiting to see whether Britain would fight. Money difficulties also contributed to their decision to leave the country: they had run up debts on their London flat and were being hounded by bailiffs. When Jessica came into a trust fund of £100 on her twenty-first birthday, rather than pay the bills they decided to spend it on one-way tickets to New York.

For Deborah, alone among the sisters, the sale of Swinbrook in 1936 was a lasting sorrow and spelt an end to what she regarded as an idyllic childhood. Lord Redesdale’s fortunes had not recovered from the Depression and he could no longer meet the cost of maintaining a large house and estate. Although Lady Redesdale had grown fond of the village and enjoyed living in the country, she went along with her husband’s decision. They moved to the Old Mill Cottage on the outskirts of High Wycombe, some thirty miles from London, taking with them Jessica and Deborah, the only two sisters still at home. The picture in the public mind of the Mitfords’ childhood is largely formed by Jessica’s first volume of memoirs, Hons and Rebels, and by Nancy’s novels. Both Jessica and Nancy remembered their childhood essentially as a period of unhappiness and discontent, and their parents as cold and unloving. Deborah had a much easier time than her older sisters; she found Lady Redesdale no stricter than other mothers and was fond of her father. The shock waves sent out by the escapades of her older siblings reached her as distant disturbances and were not sufficient to undermine the security of her well-ordered life, in which lessons with a succession of governesses alternated with long hours in the stable and on the hunting field. There was also a single term at The Monkey Club, a London finishing school from which Lady Redesdale quickly removed her when Deborah told her that it was full of communists. Jessica’s elopement, however, came as a complete surprise and, following closely after the sale of Swinbrook, shook her profoundly. It was a betrayal of the complicity she thought she shared with her beloved childhood companion and it brought an end to their intimacy. Jessica, who envied Deborah’s beauty and her position as their parents’ favourite, never realized how much she had meant to her youngest sister or understood how deeply her disappearance had upset her. To add to Deborah’s distress, the Redesdales forbade her to go to Jessica’s wedding and would not allow her to visit the Romillys when they returned to England. Although Deborah managed to see her sister a few times in secret, the visits were not a success. She did not get on with Esmond, did not like his communist friends, and found being in their company a ‘lowering experience’.

Deborah’s adolescent letters show that she could be quite as sharp and funny as Nancy but without her eldest sister’s spiteful streak. She adopted an apolitical stance early on, partly because she had seen the damage that extremism had inflicted on her family and partly because, unlike her sisters, politics simply did not excite her. When she visited Germany in 1937 and had tea with Hitler, she dismissed him as one of the ‘sights’, and was far more interested in a handsome musician in a band. Like Nancy, she deplored the fact that politics made people lose their sense of the ridiculous and she poked fun at Unity and Diana’s earnest involvement. Deborah looked forward to being a debutante, enjoyed her London Season, and, shortly after her ‘coming-out’ dance in March 1938, fell in love with Lord Andrew Cavendish, younger son of the Duke of Devonshire, to whom she soon became unofficially engaged.

Darling Corduroy,

You really are the most brick like girl I know. Thank you a MILLION times for the divine pound which I found here last night when I arrived back from the Isle of [Wight] nearly crying with tiredness, and I nearly died of joy when I saw the £1 because naturally I thought that the £10 was meant for my birthday you are a brick. We had a lovely time at the Widow’s1 except that Muv & Debo had to do her knitting for her all the time so that wasn’t too good. Debo found a copy of Farve’s letter2 to you in TPOF’s3 bag, poor Corda you do have bad luck, but the worst of the storm of fury fell before you came back, & was braved by Tuddemy,4 who softened them both down a heap. Boudy is in top-hole form & has told me all about her semi romance with Putzi,5 at least I call it a semi romance.

Idden6 & I went on the Sunday school outing to Southsea, & had some romance with (a) a Frenchman who we picked up on the Prom, & (b) two men on a switchback & one of them asked Idden to go to Blackpool with him for a week but I don’t think she’s going. It was fun.

Give my love to TPOL7 & Jonathan & Demi8 if they are there.

Much love & millions of thanks from Decca

Darling Honks

Thank you SO much for the HEVERN eveninger,1 Blor was ‘dumfounded’ when Nancy told her what it cost. I honestly never seen anything quite so lovely in all my.

I even forgive you being a fascist for that.

Thanks ever so much.

Best love from Debo

We are having a fine time though very sorry to miss all the fun at home. We hear such dreadful accounts of the weather that we really couldn’t face the journey. Why do people say they don’t enjoy honeymoons? I am adoring mine.1 You must come out here soon it is wonderful & everyone is so nice & kind.

Best love, NR

Darling Forgery

The book1 about you is going to be extraordinary, your grandparents who you live with are called Lord & Lady Tremorgan (TPTPOF)2 & you are called Eugenia let me know if you would rather not be.

I will finish this later.

Oh deary. Aunt Sport3 came & said some wonderful things & the chiefly wonderful was in Kew. She wanted to find out why her camellia drops its buds, so went up to a gardener & said ‘Good afternoon. Bud dropping by a camellia please?’ The gardener just said ‘Overfeeding’ & went on with his work. It was funny.

Nancy’s engagement to Peter Rodd was announced in July 1933. They were married five months later.

Much love, NR

WRITE

Darling Nard

I’m so dreadfully sorry to hear you are so ill & couldn’t go to the great meeting,1 I think it’s too awful for you to have missed it. It does sound such heaven. What an outcry in the papers, though! As to Bill Anstruther-Gray,2 I’m longing to see him thoroughly beaten up. He does deserve it. Was Nancy at the meeting?

Poor Nard, how awful, your illness costing you such a lot. I do hope you’re better by now, & not in pain. It sounds horrid.

Such a terribly exciting thing happened yesterday. I saw Hitler.3 At about six last night Derek4 rang me up from the Carlton Teeraum & said that He was there. Derek was having tea with his mother & aunt, & they were sitting just opposite Him. Of course I jumped straight into a taxi, in which in my excitement I left my camera which I was going to take to the shop. I went & sat down with them, & there was the Führer opposite. The aunt said ‘You’re trembling all over with excitement’, and sure enough I was, so much that Derek had to drink my chocolate for me because I couldn’t hold the cup. He sat there for 1½ hours. It was all so thrilling I can still hardly believe it. If only Putzi had been there! When he went he gave me a special salute all to myself.

Do write & tell me whether or not you think Olympia was a success? Does the Leader think so? I suppose all these absurd attacks in the papers are bound to do the Party a certain amount of harm. The accounts in the German papers were marvellous.

I do love hearing stories about the kits5 in your letters, do always tell me if they say anything funny.

With best love from Bobo

Darling Nard

Thank you so much for your letter, & the cutting about Tilly’s divorce.1 I’m so glad Edward won, although I hardly know him, because I do think she was a little brute to say such horrid things about him.

Thank you so much too for sending me the cutting about Putzi2 – I never see the Express here. I wonder if it’s true or if the Express put it in out of spite – I should think it is probably true, it’s just the sort of thing Putzi would do. Members of the Party are furious about it & I don’t wonder, they don’t like their high-up members making themselves ridiculous abroad. I saw to it that the cutting was shown all round the Brown House.3 I hope Putzi is coming back in about a fortnight, or even sooner, I hope he won’t bring Miss Olive Jones here, I would be cross.

The excitement here over the Röhm4 affair is terrific, everyone is horrified. No-one knew about it until last night. I heard rumours after dinner & immediately went into the town, where there were printed accounts of it stuck up in the chief squares. I couldn’t believe it at first. I went to the Brown House, but the street was guarded by SS men so I couldn’t get near. I waited in a huge crowd in a square near for two hours, they were all waiting to see Hitler & Goebbels5 come away from the Brown House. While we stood there several huge columns of SS, SA & Stahlhelm marched past us to the Brown House, & huge lorries full of sandbags with SS or Reichswehr sitting on top, & there were SS men dashing about the whole time on motorbikes & cars. It was all very exciting. Then word was passed round that Hitler & Goebbels had left by a back entrance & were already flying to Berlin, so I came home. Today no-one can talk of anything else, & there is a rumour that Schleicher6 & his wife, Röhm & Heines7 have all killed themselves. I wonder if it is true. I am so terribly sorry for the Führer – you know Röhm was his oldest comrade & friend, the only one that called him ‘du’ in public. How anyone could do what Röhm did I don’t know. It must have been so dreadful for Hitler when he arrested Röhm himself & tore off his decorations. Then he went to arrest Heines & found him in bed with a boy. Did that get into the English papers? Poor Hitler. The whole thing is so dreadful. I must now go into the town & find out what has happened since last night.

With best love to you & the Kits & Nan from

Bobo

Darling Nancy

Thank you ever so for your letter. How lovely, are you really going to give a party when I get back? I hope it will be as lovely as the one before I went. I actually return next Thursday the 19th, but have to go straight to Swinbrook, and please give me time to have my one-&-only evening dress altered by Gladys1 so it fits me, otherwise I couldn’t possibly come. So could it be about 1½ weeks after my return?

Now seriously, about that book.2 I have heard a bit about it from Muv, & I warn you you can’t possibly publish it, so you’d better not waste any more time on it. Because if you did publish it I couldn’t possibly ever speak to you again, as from the date of publication. And as for the article in the Vanguard3 I’m furious about it. You might have a little thought for poor me, all the boys know that you’re my sister you know.

The Passion Play4 was very long. So was the opera we went to last night. It’s fun having TPOF & Decca & Ann [Farrer] here, only TPO isn’t in a very good temper. I am though.

You must come to Swinbrook when I get back, as you will be wanting to see my 304 postcards of the Führer I’m sure. Poor sweet Führer, he’s having such a dreadful time. Well now I must go. But I must tell you one thing first. You see there is a monument in the town to the Nazis who were shot down in 1923, & everyone must salute while they pass it. I took the old Fem5 past it once & she wouldn’t salute, & the next time we passed it she went round a different way alone. So to pay her out, Decca & Ann & I dashed for a tram, & went home, & left her in the town quite lost & not being able to speak a word of German & that was in the morning, & poor old girl she didn’t find the way back until dinner time! Wasn’t it a good pay-out.

Heil Hitler! Love Bobo

P.S. No I didn’t fumble with Röhm at the Brown House. He preferred men you know.

Darling Honks

Could you possibly send the belt of the wonder gown as I’m going to wear it soon. I expect you heard the story of me leaving school after two days.1 I had to see the headmistress for two hrs and she lectured me about stone walls not making a prison, and I said of course not if you’ve got a horse that’ll jump them. She was furious.

Best love from Debo

I argue for fascism at school as all the girls are Conservatives. Please tell Mr. Maize.2

Darling Eugenia Fitzforgery (& Bodley)

Tell Bodley I couldn’t go to the case1 as my car is quite smashed up again & we are frightfully in the dee pend in many ways. We fear we shall have to do without a car in fact. But it appeared the Lead was a wonderful witness, everyone is talking about it & as the case has been reported in full & as he has managed to make nearly all of ‘the speech’ during the course of it, I expect it will do the Party a heap of good.

I met a friend of Serge2 last night, she says the whole summer Serge was madly in love with Woman [Pamela]. So it looks as if the old thing didn’t play her cards very well.

The book is getting along – 34,000 words so far with 60,000 to do so only another 17,000. It is funnier than it was because there is more about E.U.G.E.N.I.A. – Eugenia.

Well do come home soon oh do.

My best love to Nard & you, NR

Darling Birdie

Oh what a thrill! The Hill Top1 is coming to the dance – at least I hope he is. I took great care to see that he was asked. I am really dying for it because it has been so dull and AWFUL.

This is what I am giving to Filthy Rodd for Xmas

They are links called ‘road to ruin’ and are ballet girls, cards, drink and racing. I am giving Tuddemy a pair of 6d Woolworth little boy’s shorts with an opening in front and nothing to do it up with!!

Best love from Dawly

Darling Bird

I have a French gov this afternoon who, since she has seen her, has never stopped raving over the beauties of Diana. If one mentions Muv, she says ‘Et la fille!’ meaning Diana, or if you mention Decca she says, ‘Et la soeur!’, or Jonathan she says ‘Et la mère!’ It makes Muv say Orrhhn when she flatters all of us!!! She thinks you look like heaven from your photograph.

Best love from Dawly

Darling Boud

See! I write to you – !

Your Boud1 read Wigs on the G. & said that it quite inclined her to join the movement. I swear that’s true. So please don’t stone up or

Where brain should be – bone

Where heart should be – stone

will sum you up all too truly.

I went over to see Penelope Betjeman2 & her German maids were thrilled to see the Sister of One who knew Hitler & asked me a lot about him. I told them about how wonderful he is & all about Hannibal3 & they sent him a post card for his birthday. When they heard that I know Mrs Wessel4 quite well too they were beside themselves with delight & excitement. I told them I would try & get a lock of her hair for them.

What d’you think I have found in a Witney curio shop? A church, about eighteen inches high & with a steeple about two foot made entirely of white quills & pins. It is wonderful & you would absolutely adore it. We thought you might make one of brown quills just like the B House. The doors, Gothic windows, & even a clock in the tower are really marvellous & all for 30/–(in a glass case). I am too poor alas to buy it.