My Life

My Life - Oswald Mosleywent on, but a lot did—we were released. Maybe the death of a political prisoner injail was regarded as a bad advertisement for democracy, and always among myopponents were some men who were both honourable and humane.Our release produced a great uproar. The communists ran a big campaign, and webecame the subject of debate in and out of Parliament. Our release was announced onthe wireless two days before we left the prison, and the Press and the cinemacompanies erected a kind of scaffolding outside the main gate of the prison on whichthey kept a day and night guard of photographers. However, the prison authoritieswere more than a match for them on this ground and smuggled us out before dawnthrough the murderers' gate, quite unnoticed; experience sometimes has value. ThePress then pursued us in cars and besieged the house to which we travelled for severaldays.Every sort of person was interviewed with the question whether we should be releasedor not, and one girl reporter met a tartar in Bernard Shaw: 'Would you think it toostrong to say that the Home Secretary's decision, whether taken individually or inconceit with others, is calculated to cause alarm and despondency among the massesof the people who responded to his exhortation to "go to it"?' she asked him. 'I do notthink it a strong proposition at all,' replied Shaw. 'It makes me suspect that you arementally defective. I think this Mosley panic shameful. What sort of people are theywho can be frightened out of their wits by single men?—Even if Mosley were in rudehealth, it was high time to release him with apologies for having let him frighten usinto scrapping the Habeas Corpus Act.—Mr. Morrison has not justified theoutrageous conditions—the gag in Mosley's mouth and the seven-mile leg-iron. Weare still afraid to let Mosley defend himself and we have produced the ridiculoussituation in which we may buy Hitler's Mein Kampf in any bookshop in Britain, butmay not buy ten lines written by Mosley. The whole affair has become too silly forwords. Good evening.'Apart from this agitation, my release in November 1943 was naturally for us a happyoccasion and soon became a merry business, for British officialdom quickly stagedone of its brightest pantomimes. We were asked before leaving where we wanted togo, and presented a short list of friends and relations we knew were willing to receiveus; my house at Denham was requisitioned by the army, and London, where we had asmall flat, was forbidden to us. From the list the Home Office carefully chose Wing-Commander Jackson, who was then married to my sister-in-law, Pamela Mitford, andhad been a friend of mine from old days, which he has always remained. We arrivedunder escort at their house in Oxfordshire in company with a detective, who had tolive with us, as we were still under house arrest.My brother-in-law immediately obtained leave from the Air Force to spend a fewdays with us, and my mother-in-law, Lady Redesdale, with her youngest daughterDeborah, came to join the party. The loyalty of that superb character Lady Redesdaleduring these hard times, like that of my own mother, was one of our mainstays, andDiana's youngest sister in these personal affairs was equally steadfast.It was indeed a convivial gathering on that first evening, which lasted far into thenight until the weakness of my illness produced the complete exhaustion of a longsleep. All was happy for a few days and we continued to live in peace after the return344 of 424