Unity Mitford

Hanging on his every word: Unity with “the Führer,” as she invariably referred to him, from a German postcard, 1936. (Wikimedia Commons) Hitler’s English Girlfriend: The Secret Diary of Unity Mitford , by Corinna Honan. Published and podcast in the Daily Mail, 17 January 2025. It is tremendously exciting when a hitherto unknown primary historical source is discovered. It is tempting to think that most archives have been thoroughly plumbed and drained. And yet we are continuously surprised. It now seems that another obscure trove has come to light, this time in the shape of a 1934-39 diary kept by Unity Mitford. In typically exuberant style, the Daily Mail (finders of the diary) breathlessly announced stunning revelations. Are there any? Sadly, not really. The Mitford diary is as likely to leave historians more frustrated than satisfied. Unity Mitford was no Samuel Pepys , Harold Nicolson or “Chips” Channon . As a significant diarist she was a shambolic failure. People like Pepys and Channon were unfailingly observant about, and interested in, everything. Almost the only things that Unity was interested in were herself and Adolf Hitler. Over the course of five years she recorded every occasion when she was in Hitler’s presence. They met mostly in Munich’s Osteria Bavaria, his favorite restaurant. (It is still there, now Osteria Italiana , carefully avoiding mention of its former patron. “Some customers,” fumes the manager, “still want to sit at that table.”) Unity Mitford would meticulously record each day they met and the time Hitler departed. In fact, she early took to recording in red ink every one of the meetings when she spoke to him. Some meetings lasted for one-and-a-half to two hours—on aggregate, hundreds of hours. The Daily Mail has published excerpts from her diary and dramatized them in a four-part podcast. To access both print and audio versions, click here . This could have been a mother lode for historians. Yet, although recording the start and end of each conversation, Unity fails to mention what went on in between. There is not a word of Hitler’s thought processes, his policy ideas, his beliefs. Hundreds of hours of intimate conversations produces, in the end, nothing. All we get is gushing infatuation: “The Führer was heavenly…he is an angel…. He was in his best mood….so sweet and gay.” Unity also attended numerous Hitler speeches, each described as “wonderful.” But the substance, or effect on the audiences, are never quoted. The most we glean from any entry is from December 1934: “He talked a lot about Jews, which was lovely.” The fact that Unity Mitford was a devoted Hitler groupie is not even close to a revelation. It was known to her contemporaries, including her uncle, Winston Churchill. Indeed, her Nazism was one of the proud boasts of her life. But based on the diary alone it is very difficult to regard Unity as a serious political acolyte. Reading her diary in isolation, one is tempted to compare it to the besotted outpourings of a teenage Taylor Swift fan, bedewing the snowy, virgin pages with tears of love and longing. It is unlikely that Hitler had much respect for her, although he may have regarded her as a useful idiot. She may, for him, have symbolized the British upper classes. He probably admired her statuesque figure (she stood a couple of inches taller than he did) as an example of Nordic womanhood. Ironically, her middle name was “Valkyrie,” which probably appealed. The Mitfords in 1928. L-R Sydney Bowles, Lady Redesdale; Unity (foreground) Diana and Deborah (with dog); Jessica (with cat); Tom, Deborah and Pamela; David Freeman-Mitford, Second Baron Redesdale. (Wikimedia Commons) None of this is to say that Unity’s life was not an interesting one. While the diary gives us little insight into the burgeoning Third Reich, it does at least provide one more piece of the puzzle that was one of the Twentieth Century’s most visible and eccentric families. The Mitford clan still holds us in