The Mitford Sisters: Scandal, Wit, and Unwavering Eccentricity
The Mitford sisters were an aristocratic anomaly: six daughters of Lord and Lady Redesdale (Farve and Muv to their children), raised in genteel poverty and fuelled by strong opinions, sharper wit, and an upbringing so bizarre it makes Downton Abbey look like a model of sensibility.
The Mitford household was a strange blend of extreme snobbery and penny-pinching thrift. Their father, David Freeman-Mitford, 2nd Baron Redesdale (Farve), was a blustering xenophobe with a horror of foreigners, Catholics, and—most of all—abroad. Their mother, Sydney (Muv), was vague and mild but unusually hands-on for an aristocratic woman of the time. In an era when servants ran everything, Muv took on much of the household management herself, though with curious results. The family economised ruthlessly: linen napkins were abandoned due to laundry costs, and meals followed a kosher-like regime due to the odd belief that cancer was less common among Jewish people. This meant shellfish, sausages, and pork (or, as Farve called it, “the dirty pig”) were strictly off-limits.
While their brother Tom was sent to Eton, the Mitford girls were deemed unfit for formal education, lest it result in muscular calves from playing hockey. Instead, a series of eccentric governesses attempted to school them in literature, history, and needlepoint—though they learned far more from reading books on their own. Isolated in draughty manor houses, the girls developed their own secret language (Boudledidge), harboured wild superstitions (some believed in poltergeists and pre-destination), and spent their time writing plays, gossiping, and honing the scathing humour that would become their defining trait.
Despite being largely left to their own devices, the Mitfords turned into an eclectic collection of novelists, fascists, communists, and duchesses. Before they had even done anything of note, the press had declared them celebrities, fascinated by their beauty, charm, and eccentricity. What followed was a series of lives so spectacularly different from one another that it reads like a badly written soap opera.
Nancy Mitford: The Brilliant Observer
Nancy Mitford, the eldest and sharpest of the sisters, had one great talent: satire. With her wicked wit and keen observational skills, she turned her privileged upbringing into some of the most cutting comedies of manners in British literature.
Nancy was the first to escape the family home, moving to London and becoming part of the Bright Young Things—a group of aristocratic socialites famous for drinking, partying, and behaving badly. While her early novels—Highland Fling (1931) and Christmas Pudding (1932)—poked fun at the upper classes, it was Wigs on the Green (1935) that made the biggest impact. A satirical attack on British fascism, the book was a thinly veiled parody of her sisters Diana and Unity’s love affair with the far right. Diana was furious, and Unity was so offended she never spoke to Nancy again.
Despite her aristocratic background, Nancy was a socialist and took immense pleasure in ridiculing the absurdities of the upper class. She was deeply critical of her fascist sisters and even went so far as to report Diana to MI5 during World War II, warning them that her sister was “far cleverer and more dangerous than her husband.”
Fleeing an unhappy marriage, Nancy moved to Paris after the war, where she wrote The Pursuit of Love (1945) and Love in a Cold Climate (1949)—both instant bestsellers. She became one of the leading literary figures of her time, translating French classics and writing a celebrated biography of Louis XIV. She never remarried but spent years hopelessly in love with the French politician Gaston Palewski, who rarely reciprocated her affections. She remained in Paris until her death in 1973, leaving behind a legacy of wit and one of the sharpest social commentaries of the 20th century.
Pamela Mitford: The Poultry Connoisseur
Pamela, the second Mitford sister, was perhaps the least scandalous—but that did not mean she was ordinary. Known for her deep love of animals, she was described by Nancy as “the most rural of us all” and spent much of her life surrounded by chickens, dogs, and horses.
Unlike her more politically extreme sisters, Pamela shunned the limelight and avoided controversy. She briefly married the millionaire physicist Derek Jackson, but their relationship was not built to last. After their divorce, Pamela lived quietly in the countryside, where she became known for her enthusiasm for rare poultry breeds. She once smuggled the eggs of an Appenzeller Spitzhauben chicken into Britain by hiding them in a chocolate box.
Pamela may have been the least outwardly dramatic Mitford, but she was still eccentric in her own right. She was one of the first women to take a transatlantic passenger flight, motored around Europe alone, and eventually set up home with the Italian horsewoman Giuditta Tommasi—an arrangement that was quietly accepted within the family.
Diana Mitford: The Fascist Femme Fatale
Diana, the great beauty of the Mitford sisters, was described by family friend James Lees-Milne as “the nearest thing to Botticelli’s Venus that I have ever seen.” Initially, she married Bryan Guinness, heir to the brewing fortune, and became one of the most glamorous women in Britain. But Diana was never content to simply be a society beauty—she wanted power.
In the early 1930s, she met Oswald Mosley, leader of the British Union of Fascists, and fell completely under his spell. Leaving her millionaire husband, she became Mosley’s mistress, openly supporting his political ambitions. Their affair caused an enormous scandal, but Diana cared little for public opinion. In 1936, she and Mosley married in a secret ceremony at the home of Nazi propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels, with Adolf Hitler himself as their guest of honour.
During World War II, the British government decided that Diana and Mosley were far too dangerous to remain at large. In 1940, they were arrested and imprisoned under Regulation 18B, spending several years in Holloway Prison. Diana later claimed that her greatest suffering during this time was the lack of proper shampoo.
After the war, Diana and Mosley moved to Paris, where she continued to defend Hitler in interviews, insisting that he had been “very charming.” She lived in unapologetic splendour until her death in 2003, never once admitting she might have been on the wrong side of history.
Unity Mitford: Hitler’s Superfan
Of all the Mitford sisters, Unity had the most tragic (and horrifying) trajectory. She was an ardent Nazi, idolising Hitler with a devotion that would have been comical if it weren’t so disturbing.
Determined to meet the Führer, Unity moved to Germany in the early 1930s and began frequenting his favourite café in Munich. Eventually, Hitler noticed the tall, blonde Englishwoman staring at him and invited her over. From that moment, Unity was in his inner circle, loudly supporting his ideology and making anti-Semitic speeches at dinner parties.
When war was declared between Britain and Germany, Unity was devastated. She promptly went to an English garden in Munich and shot herself in the head. Incredibly, she survived, though the bullet remained lodged in her brain. She was sent back to England, where she spent her final years in a childlike state, eventually dying in 1948 due to complications from her injury.
Jessica Mitford: The Communist Crusader
Jessica—Decca—was Unity’s polar opposite. While Unity and Diana idolised fascism, Jessica embraced communism with equal fervour. At 19, she eloped with her communist cousin, Esmond Romilly, and fled to Spain to fight Franco.
She spent much of her life in the US, becoming a leading civil rights activist, investigative journalist, and bestselling author. Her 1963 book, The American Way of Death, was cited by the like of J.K. Rowling and David Bowie as “life changing”.
Unlike her fascist sisters, Jessica’s politics aged well, and she remained widely respected. She passed away in 1996, never reconciling with her far-right siblings.
Deborah Mitford: The Sensible Duchess
The youngest Mitford, Deborah (Debo), avoided political extremism, preferring a life of dogs, jam, and Chatsworth House. She married Lord Andrew Cavendish, eventually becoming the Duchess of Devonshire and devoting herself to preserving one of England’s grandest estates.
Deborah was the last of the Mitford sisters to pass away in 2014, having outlived all the drama and scandal.
The Mitford Sisters: A Legacy of Madness and Marvel
The Mitfords were a whirlwind of scandal, wit, and political extremism, embodying both the best and worst of British aristocracy. Some of them were brilliant, some were horrific, and all of them were unforgettable. In the words of The Times’ Ben Macintyre:
“Diana the Fascist, Jessica the Communist, Unity the Hitler-lover; Nancy the Novelist; Deborah the Duchess and Pamela the unobtrusive poultry connoisseur.”
If you ever find yourself feeling unremarkable, just remember: you could have been a Mitford. And, frankly, your sanity thanks you.
Unity, Tom, Deborah, Diana, Jessica, Nancy, and Pamela Mitford at Swinbrook House, in Oxfordshire, England, 1935.