by Siân Evans
Lady Cunard referred to von Ribbentrop behind his back as a ‘delicious, real life Nazi’. She also teased him to his face, with questions such as ‘What does Herr Hitler truly think about God?’ or ‘Tell us, dearest Excellency, why does Herr Hitler dislike the Jews?’ She was similarly inflammatory in praising Mussolini to some Foreign Office officials at a lunch at Sibyl’s on 11 November 1935. Emerald often made such statements just to provoke a reaction, but, like Mrs Greville and many of her circle, she was initially impressed by the new regime in Germany, and approved of their policy of imposing social order and tackling unemployment. The US Ambassador between 1933 and 1937, Robert Worth Bingham, described Lady Cunard’s set as the ‘pro-German cabal’. Von Ribbentrop was very keen to court Emerald, because of her close relationship with the Prince of Wales; she first introduced him to the Prince at a lunch at her house in June 1935, and he ingratiated himself with Wallis Simpson too. The first time Wallis and von Ribbentrop met was at a large luncheon at Emerald’s, and Winston Churchill was also in attendance. Von Ribbentrop droned on unstoppably, listing the achievements of the Führer as Winston sat silently listening. After Hitler’s ambassador had finally left, Churchill said, ‘Emerald, I hope we never have to hear that broken gramophone record again.’
Lady Astor was less deferential, teasing von Ribbentrop: ‘Aren’t you a damned bad ambassador?’ she yelled at him down the table. He asked what she meant, and she told him he had no sense of humour. ‘You should see me telling jokes to Hitler, and how we both roar with laughter’, he replied, somewhat implausibly. She also tackled him about the shortcomings of National Socialism, and told him that Britain would never take Hitler seriously because of his Charlie Chaplin moustache.
Von Ribbentrop’s greatest desire was to influence the Prince of Wales into acquiescence with Hitler’s aims. The heir to the throne was certainly pro-German in principle (his mother, after all, was German, and he had many close family ties), and he was fêted, courted and respected by the British public. However, his role was to be the symbolic head of a constitutional monarchy; Hitler and von Ribbentrop did not comprehend the limited power the prince could wield over the conduct of foreign affairs or international diplomacy.
Competition between the hostesses was fierce; they were aware of each others’ activities and even socialised together, but each had at least one rival who encroached on her ‘territory’. Blue-blooded Lady Londonderry, who had done so much for women’s involvement in the First World War and now operated behind the scenes as a considerable political hostess, was not a natural ally of Virginian Lady Astor, the first woman to take her seat as an MP, whose Parliamentary potential was marred by her outspokenness and unorthodox behaviour. Mrs Greville, enormously rich through trade but with murky origins, bristled at any comparison with the even wealthier and more obscure mid-Western steel millionairess Mrs Corrigan, and the two of them relished cutting each other dead when their paths crossed. Perhaps the most needling of the duos were San Francisco-born Emerald Cunard and Sibyl Colefax; both of them had ambitions to run a salon for the musical, theatrical and literary elite, but they also had strong proprietorial feelings about the Prince of Wales and Mrs Simpson. Nigel Nicolson, the younger son of Harold Nicolson and Vita Sackville-West, recalled the ‘undeclared competition’ between Emerald and Sibyl:
I once heard Lady Cunard pause mid-flow to say, ‘I’m talking too much, like Lady Colefax’, a comparison which was quite unjustified, for Sibyl was the less talkative of the two and kinder to the young. On another occasion Lady Cunard called to me down the length of her dining-room table, ‘Nigel, tell us about your girl-friends’, and twelve pairs of experienced eyes turned towards me. Sibyl would never have done that.7
Sibyl was an inveterate collector of people and was often ridiculed for her insatiable drive to ‘bag’ some quarry or other. She fell out with Osbert Sitwell when she nabbed him in the street in order to be introduced to his companion, and invited the friend to lunch, but not Osbert. Realising her error, she invited him too at the last minute, but he declined. However, as her guests arrived at Argyll House, Osbert climbed onto a neighbouring roof clutching a megaphone and announced the arrivals in the manner of a Master of Ceremonies. A mature actress won the epithet of ‘Miss Mary Pickford’, a young politician was ‘the ex-Kaiser of Germany’, and a committed pacifist was described as ‘Signor Mussolini’.
The Yorks lived rather quietly by comparison with Bertie’s brothers. They tended to avoid glamorous places such as the Embassy Club, and they were overlooked by the smart set that gravitated to the Prince of Wales. As Elizabeth was to say in later years, ‘Bertie and I were never chic enough for Lady Cunard.’ However, they were much in demand among more conventional and aristocratic circles. Good conversation, dinner-dances with trusted friends and weekends on friends’ country estates were their preferred environment, especially when their two small daughters, Elizabeth and Margaret Rose, were growing up. Mrs Greville made them her guests of honour whenever she entertained British or foreign royalty such as visiting Maharajahs, the Queen of Spain or the King of Italy. A typical evening in their honour was held on 29 June 1933 at a reception at Charles Street; the guests included the Aga Khan, Lord and Lady Londonderry, Senator Marchese Marconi and his wife, the Marchesa, Lord and Lady Reading, Sir John and Lady Simon, Lady Emerald Cunard, Maggie’s god-daughter Sonia Cubitt, Winston Churchill, Sir Robert Horne, Sir Philip Sassoon and the Prime Minister of Canada. Mrs Greville wore the famous emeralds that once belonged to the Empress Josephine. She was described as:
one of the greatest hostesses in present-day London […] no hostess stands higher in the esteem of the Royal family […] she has vivacity and a multitude of interests. And she is interested in everything, from politics to housing schemes – from museums to the theatre […] Above all she is a great mistress of the art of conversation. That is why her dinner parties attract such distinguished men and women.8
Always astute in noticing the ‘coming man’, Mrs Greville also cultivated those already in prominent positions, especially during her weekend house parties. After a magnificent dinner she would draw aside the most important people present for an intimate chat in her study, while the other guests were entertained by professional performers in the salon. She was pre-eminent among the hostesses in wielding genuine political power, but her Machiavellian impulses were not always successful. She attempted to sabotage Duff Cooper’s attempt to win a seat as an MP by offering to back an independent rival candidate to contest the seat and split the Conservative vote. She was annoyed when her stooge, Beverley Nichols, refused to co-operate; she threatened to cut him out of her will and fulfilled her threat, eventually leaving him nothing despite their decades of close friendship.
Her great skill was in combining interesting people from very diverse backgrounds, and she embraced the full spectrum of politics and philosophy. Professor Frederick Lindemann was one of her protégés. Born in Germany, he was a brilliant academic scientist, but she was able to tempt him away from Oxford University for country house weekends at Polesden Lacey by offering him dancing and tennis; he was the only professor to play competitively at Wimbledon. He stayed at Polesden thirty times between 1926 and 1939, and also dined with her frequently in London. ‘The Prof’ was introduced to Winston Churchill by Mrs Greville in Charles Street on 11 February 1930, and the men became fast friends. Both were ‘lone voices’, advocating arming against a resurgent Germany, and in wartime they united to destroy the Nazis at any cost. Churchill referred to Lindemann as ‘my scientific brain’, and together they devised the policy of carpet-bombing Germany.
Mrs Ronnie Greville […] must surely head the list of inveterate globe trotters of the feminine sex.’
(Letters of Eve column, Tatler, 10 January 1935)
By the early 1930s Mrs Greville was broadening her horizons to go international. In the previous decade she had ‘embassy-hopped’ to support her frequent overseas trips. She cultivated the London-based ambassadors of
her target countries, inviting them and their homesick families to stay for cosy weekends at Polesden Lacey. As a result of her hospitality to the international diplomatic corps, she was given preferential treatment when she visited their home nations: a special train, an honour guard and interpreters, an introduction to the president or the royal family, or sumptuous banquets in her honour. Essentially, she was a status snob: she wanted to know the VIPs wherever she went, and she always made a beeline for whoever was running the show.
Now she was intrigued by Germany, with its enigmatic new leader, Herr Hitler. She was already a regular habituée of the German Embassy and a great friend of Ambassador von Hoesch. In August 1933 she toured Germany under her own steam, in her chauffeur-driven car, visiting Baden-Baden, Nuremberg, Stuttgart, Dresden and Berlin. She returned to Germany in August 1934 for a month; and she attended the Nuremberg rally in September as one of the ‘Ehrengäste’, or ‘Honoured Guests’ of the Third Reich, with a personal invitation from Rudolf Hess, Hitler’s second-in-command. She even managed to engineer a meeting with Hitler himself through the Foreign Minister, Baron von Neurath. In 1941, when Britain was at war with Germany, she recalled that Hitler had spoken to her ‘quietly and intelligibly’. When asked if she had found the Führer common, she replied, ‘Not at all – one doesn’t notice that with a truly great man […] now Mussolini, yes, the only great man I have ever known who was truly pompous.’9
On 24 October 1934 Tatler reported: ‘That brilliant powerful personality Mrs Ronald Greville is back. She was entertained by Hitler at the Nuremberg festivities last month, and is now enthusiastic over “the little brown shirts”.’ Those who lunched at Sibyl’s on 14 September 1934 had been more critical, as Robert Bruce Lockhart recorded in his diary: ‘Much talk about Mrs Ronnie Greville who has been at Nuremberg and who has come back full of enthusiasm for Hitler. Her influence is very strong with [Foreign Secretary Sir John] Simon. Her vanity is inordinate. In those countries where she is not given a special train, the local British ambassador or minister gets sacked.’10 Lockhart lunched at Lady Cunard’s on 17 October 1934 and sat next to Mrs Greville herself, ‘who talked pro-Hitler stuff with great vigour. She is a convinced pro-German and is very angry that no-one from the British Embassy went to the Partei-tag at Nuremberg. After all, the British Ambassador in Moscow attends the May 1st and November 7th celebrations in Moscow.’
Mrs Greville was back in Baden-Baden in August 1935 ‘for the cure’, and entertained lavishly at the Hotel Stephanie, where she became friendly with the journalist Barbara Cartland; the two women would take chauffeur-driven rides in Mrs Ronnie’s Rolls-Royce through the surrounding forests and gossip about their shared acquaintances. She was described in the Daily Mail as ‘a great admirer of Herr Hitler and knows him personally’ (8 September 1935). Through von Ribbentrop, Mrs Greville was invited to attend the Berlin Olympics and set out in August 1936; after some days in Berlin she travelled on to Baden-Baden and Dresden. The Berlin Olympics marked the high spot of Hitler’s great PR push.
Although she was an enthusiastic and curious traveller, Mrs Ronnie Greville’s declining health was starting to limit her activities. She held a weekend house party at Polesden Lacey in April 1935 for her guests of honour, the Duke and Duchess of York. Mrs Greville was unwell and was confined to bed, but she urged her guests to go ahead with dinner without her. With ‘Madam’ off the scene, her loyal but occasionally unruly staff took even more liberties than usual. Osbert Sitwell recalled the bacchanalian behaviour of the staff serving dinner to the house guests while his great friend ‘Maggie’ Greville was indisposed. The butlers and footmen were drunk and took pleasure in attempting to ply the Duchess of York with whisky throughout dinner.
Osbert was Mrs Greville’s ‘spare man’ at many events. In July 1935 he joined a grand dinner party at her house in Charles Street with a stellar list of fellow guests, including Lord and Lady Londonderry and Emerald Cunard. There was a strong pro-Fascist atmosphere, with Prince and Princess Otto von Bismarck representing the German Embassy. The Senator Marchese Marconi and his wife were ardent supporters of Benito Mussolini, who had been the best man at their wedding. The Rt Hon. Sir Eric Phipps and his wife were there; he was British Ambassador to Berlin when Mrs Greville engineered her meeting with Hitler. Other guests included Sir Evan Charteris, Viscount Hailsham and Sir Robert Horne. Sir Philip Sassoon, who was also present, may have felt uneasy; he was Jewish in origin, and his contacts in Europe were reporting growing anti-Semitism in the Third Reich. He had also visited Germany with Bob Boothby shortly after the Nazis had come to power, and had met Goering.
Unfortunately, anti-Semitism was rife in Britain between the wars, even in privileged and educated circles. Virginia Woolf, who had lunched with Philip Sassoon at Sibyl’s in 1929, described him in a letter to her sister as ‘an underbred Whitechapel Jew’. Oswald Mosley also made disparaging remarks about Lloyd George accepting hospitality ‘from the voluptuous Orient’, meaning Philip Sassoon; nevertheless when Mosley and Sassoon met over dinner at Emerald’s house with the Prince of Wales and Mrs Simpson in January 1935, everyone observed the proprieties.
Sir Philip Sassoon was the Tory MP for Hythe, and during the summer months he would often entertain house parties at Port Lympne, his opulent house on the south coast. His regular guests included Lady Astor and three of her sons, Emerald Cunard, the Colefaxes and Mrs Ronnie Greville. Although a supporter of female suffrage in principle, he found Lady Astor’s idiosyncratic behaviour in the House of Commons wearing. He also avoided the formal political receptions at Londonderry House. As Under-Secretary for Air between 1924 and 1929, and again from 1931 to 1937, he wanted to avoid any more social contact than was necessary with Lord Londonderry, Secretary of State for Air.
His influential political friends included Winston Churchill, Neville Chamberlain and Anthony Eden. Parliamentary contemporaries including Bob Boothby and ‘Chips’ Channon admired and respected him. Creative and literary types including Cecil Beaton, Noel Coward and T. E. Lawrence were visitors too, and Harold Nicolson and Vita Sackville-West regularly came over from Sissinghurst. A confirmed bachelor, Sassoon lived a discreetly gay life.
Throughout the rest of the year Sassoon held weekend country house parties at Trent Park, his vast estate 13 miles from London. There was a swimming pool, an orangery, a golf course, tennis courts and a lake, set in 1,000 acres of land. To travel between his two country houses Sassoon often flew in his private plane. In addition, he had a magnificent house on Park Lane in London. He was extremely wealthy, and had a particular interest in architecture and interior design. According to ‘Chips’ Channon, in 1937 Sassoon dropped hints to Emerald Cunard that he hoped to be appointed First Commissioner of Works, and his lobbying was successful; it was a role that included supervising the repairs to the Houses of Parliament and refurbishing and redecorating no 10 Downing Street.
Between 1931 and 1935 Ramsay MacDonald headed the National Government. Lord Londonderry benefited from Edith’s friendship with the premier, being appointed the Secretary of State for Air, a role he relished because of his genuine enthusiasm for aviation and his war experience. In return, the Socialist Prime Minister MacDonald could rely on the arch-Tory aristocrat as a dependable ally within his truculent Cabinet. The close relationship between the Londonderrys and MacDonald was fractured when he resigned in May 1935, and Stanley Baldwin took over. Londonderry was sacked from the Air Ministry by the new Prime Minister, which made him bitter. In addition, Charley was Tory leader of the Lords, but he lost that prestigious post too, which he saw as an action of class hatred.
Throughout Charley’s four years in the post, he advocated that Britain should have a strong air deterrent, by developing state-of-the-art offensive armaments, especially fighter planes and bombers. However, he anticipated that Soviet Russia would be the enemy, not Germany. Charley was convinced that it was Communism that represented a threat to civilisation, and therefore saw the nationalist European dictators as a desir
able bulwark against revolution. His convictions were not unusual: the British upper classes were aware of the savage fate of their Russian counterparts following the Bolshevik revolution. The writer Gilbert Armitage summed up those views by stating that the Nazis ‘have not yet assassinated an entire reigning family in a cellar and butchered some millions of “class enemies”, as the nice, kind, almost democratic bolshies have done’11. By contrast, the sense of social order and discipline, economic growth and technological progress instigated first by Mussolini in Italy and then Hitler in Germany seemed appealing.
Lord Londonderry was targeted by Hitler’s special ambassador, Joachim von Ribbentrop, because he was exactly the type of aristocrat both Hitler and his representative erroneously believed still ran Britain. There were still many informal contacts between patrician families in Germany and Britain, as in both societies aristocrats tended to gravitate to each other. The Nazi high command was keen to recruit German dukes and princelings to trumpet the virtues of the Third Reich in British drawing rooms; they even employed Prince Otto von Bismarck, the grandson of the famous Iron Chancellor, as the First Secretary at the German Embassy in London. They over-estimated the influence British aristocrats could exert in a modern democracy, but that did not stop them trying.
Charley Londonderry was a former soldier who had served for three years in the Great War, and his memories of that conflict made him sincerely committed to ensuring that Britain and Germany never fought again. Charley was reassured by the soothing platitudes of von Ribbentrop and Germany’s apparent desire for peace. Cast aside in London, as he saw it, Lord Londonderry felt his experience and statesmanship would be better appreciated in Berlin. He also recalled his ancestor, the statesman Viscount Castlereagh, who, at the Congress of Vienna, succeeded in brokering an agreement to bring back the world to ‘peaceful habits’ after the Napoleonic Wars.
