by Martha Schad
(2) You additionally offered your help and support, in a spirit of genuine friendship, in rescuing Prof. Reinhardt’s (and my) personal property from Schloss Leopoldskron. It would take too long to describe here our long-term plans, which the outbreak of war put an end to, but it is sufficient to explain what in fact was successfully done. In August 1938 I received in London 26 crates containing my library (some 6,000 volumes), papers, pictures and items of personal clothing. A few months later Prof. Reinhardt received in Hollywood, Cal., a quantity of books, china, silver, furniture etc. etc. from Schloss Leopoldskron. This was all organised by you in the most generous fashion, and I will always be profoundly grateful to you …
In the hope that your persecution by the press, which arises from a complete misinterpretation of your personality, will soon come to an end, I remain most devotedly and gratefully
Yours,
Rudolf K. Kommer
There are some things in this letter which lack credibility. For one thing, the statement that the princess actually wanted to buy the mansion is not correct. She just did not have the money to do so. The American press also refused to accept this explanation. It is true that Stephanie sent a small part of Reinhardt’s personal possessions back to him. Her son had the task of dealing with the shipping formalities. On 28 October Wiedemann received this note from Franz: ‘Dear Fritz … I enclose for your attention a list that I have carefully made of the items that are being returned to Professor Reinhardt. It is admittedly not complete, and I fear I will have to trouble you again in a few days with the second section. Although it looks very long, there aren’t an awful lot of things there: and Steph need not have been so horrified when she visited the house.’
On 24 November he received the list back, signed off by Wiedemann, and with it the necessary authority from the Führer himself to export the articles belonging to Max Reinhardt: ‘The Führer has ordered that all personal possessions of the former owner of Leopoldskron, Professor Max Reinhardt, be returned to him without delay. Prince Hohenlohe is authorised by me to carry out this instruction from the Führer. Accordingly, no special approval from the Currency Office is necessary, nor is confirmation by the tax authorities, or approval by any other authority or administrative department.’
Reinhardt’s son, Gottfried, dealt at length in his biography of his father with the fact ‘that the one-time Princess Stephanie Hohenlohe – alias Fräulein Richter from Vienna’ – had ‘moved into Schloss Leopoldskron as châtelaine, by the good grace of Hitler’. However, he states, inaccurately, that ‘the woman who wore the Gold Medal of the Nazi party was the second wife of Herr Wiedemann, the German consul in San Francisco who, even before America’s entry into the war, had been expelled from the country for Nazi intrigues. She owed her entrée into international politics to the British newspaper mogul, Lord Rothermere, whose idée fixe had been to smooth the path for a return of a Hohenzollern to the throne of Germany. Her thinking must have been more realistic than that, since she soon switched her allegiance from a second Kaiser’s empire to the Thousand Year Reich. What is more, her “seizure of power” at Leopoldskron did not lack far-sighted realism either: for internal purposes, Hitler’s loyal neighbour [Austria] was administering German national property, which had been disgracefully sold off to a foreigner; outwardly the emigrant princess was acting as trustee of the property on behalf of its racially alien owner. Through her Kommer regained possession of his library. She also sent personal effects from Leopoldskron to Max Reinhardt in California, though admittedly it was only junk. She had obtained the Gauleiter’s permission to do this. The double game this lady played became another bone of contention between Max Reinhardt and Kommer, who accused Max of ingratitude towards the lady.’
But Max Reinhardt retorted: ‘I could never imagine that someone on such distant terms with me as the Princess would ever have moved to Leopoldskron on my account. You are also wrong in your assumption that I should think it worthwhile exposing the Princess as Jewish. Her outward appearance made it clear for all the world to see. Furthermore, since her aristocratic friends repeatedly stressed the particular piquancy of her Mosaic faith in her relationship with the Almighty (in Berchtesgaden), I have never thought otherwise. However, I am more than ready to believe her capable of adopting any other faith …’
The first cultural highlight following the annexation of Austria was the Salzburg Festival, which began on 24 July 1938. The leading figures of the Nazi regime now ruling the country they called Ostmark had put in an appearance in ‘this fair German city’; the châtelaine of Leopoldskron was not, however, invited. Goebbels thought it important that the Salzburg Festival should become a genuine Reich festival. But with an eye on the Bayreuth Festival, in future ‘no Wagner would be played’ at Salzburg. Even so, the first Salzburg Festival of the Nazi era opened not with a Mozart opera, but with Wagner’s Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg.
The party members in Salzburg did not like the new mistress of Schloss Leopoldskron. However, since the local Gauleiter’s office naturally carried out the wishes of the Führer, conveyed to them by Wiedemann and supported by Field-Marshal Göring, the provincial governor, Dr Albert Reitter, was instructed to put the Schloss at the princess’s disposal.
At all events the terms of occupancy were to be made absolutely watertight. Legally the position was that the Schloss was the property of the Province of Salzburg and that ‘Her Princely Highness’ was only granted rights of occupancy. The German Foreign Minister received a letter from his press attaché with the following justification: ‘Since the person of the Princess Hohenlohe was judged critically in the former country of Austria, the provincial government has assured itself the freehold of the Leopoldskron estate under the property register. The criticism of the princess rests on the fact that Princess Hohenlohe has a bad reputation among the people of Salzburg, who have known her since her days as a girl from Vienna.’
The new châtelaine had the Schloss converted, regardless of expense. Since she had, from the very start, planned to hold large receptions there, an oversized electric cooker had to be installed, as well as a large refrigerator and all the most modern electrical kitchen appliances, for which in turn a transformer was necessary. A central heating system was installed. Since Stephanie enjoyed playing sports she had a tennis-court built. The extravagantly laid out gardens swallowed up money. In addition to all this there were very high staff costs.
The enormous costs of renovation and furnishing were not borne by the Province of Salzburg but by the central government in Berlin. To cover himself when making the payments, Wiedemann wrote that there were so many bills which, ‘as the Führer himself says, increase the value of the Schloss, and since the Schloss is now state property, this is money well spent’. After Wiedemann had departed for San Francisco (see p. 105) his friend General Bodenschatz only settled these exorbitant invoices with reluctance. Finally, the Reich Party Leader, Martin Bormann, took over the payment of craftsmen’s invoices, up to the summer of 1939.
As the princess was being attacked on many sides, Wiedemann had drafted a suitable document for her:
10 June 1938. Princess Stephanie von Hohenlohe is personally known to the Führer. She has at all times stood up for the new Germany abroad in a manner worthy of recognition. I therefore ask all German authorities concerned with domestic and foreign affairs to take every opportunity to show her the special appreciation that we owe to foreigners who speak up so em-phatically for today’s Germany.
Captain Wiedemann (Retd)
Adjutant to the Führer
As soon as the princess had established herself in Schloss Leopoldskron, she began to play the hostess. She succeeded in bringing a whole string of fairly important French, Britons and Americans to Leopoldskron, always with equal success: the guests were delighted by what they saw and, once they were home again, wrote about how good the Salzburg Festival was and that no better music could be heard than in Germany.
One guest whom Stephanie found very a
greeable was the American conductor Leopold Stokowski; she discussed with him putting on open-air opera productions in the grounds of her mansion. Other guests were the theatre critic Philip Carr and Mrs Carol Carstairs, the wife of a prominent New York art-dealer. The world of French culture was represented by the president of the Paris Mozart Society, Mme Octave Hombert, and Charles Bedaux, a right-wing confidant of the Duke of Windsor, who often holidayed at the nearby Schloss Mittersill, to play golf or tennis.
Stephanie was disappointed that the Führer never visited his ‘dear princess’ at Schloss Leopoldskron. Nor did Hermann Göring, who also had a residence on the Obersalzberg, just across the border in Germany. The most frequent guest was Fritz Wiedemann, though usually accompanied by his wife and three children.
The respected diplomat Herbert von Dirksen was one of those who often visited Stephanie at the Schloss; he came with his stepmother Viktoria von Dirksen, as members of Berlin’s high society all knew each other well. And Stephanie often had herself photographed with the ambassador. From 1928 to 1933 Herbert von Dirksen had been the German ambassador in Moscow, then from 1933 to 1938 in Tokyo. Finally, he went to London in 1938 as Ribbentrop’s successor, representing Germany at the Court of St James. As early as 1940 he was put out to grass.
His stepmother, Viktoria, was the second wife of the widowed and retired ambassador and privy counsellor, Willibald von Dirksen, who died in 1928. When she first met Hitler in Berlin, Viktoria was forty-eight and he was thirty-three years old. Before long Berlin was calling her the ‘Mother of the Revolution’ and ‘Mother of the Movement’. Viktoria von Dirksen’s ‘Thursday soirées’ – a regular political fixture – were held in her grand town house in Margaretenstrasse. Her carefully chosen guests included the Bechsteins, owners of the piano business, who had been among Hitler’s earliest supporters in Munich. Hitler himself very rapidly rose to be the ‘adornment’ of the political salon. Viktoria’s brother, Karl August von Laffert, as well as her son-in-law Werner von Rheinhaben, permanent secretary at the Reich Chancellery from 1920 to 1933, were also members of this circle.
Anyone who talked to Viktoria von Dirksen would be repeatedly informed about her ‘diplomatic activity’. Even in private company, she would make enthusiastic speeches about the greatness of the Führer. One of Viktoria’s ‘speeches’, made during a boat excursion on the Wannsee lake with members of the diplomatic corps, was summarised thus by the French ambassador, François-Poncet: ‘All in all, Madame, you are to Germany what Joan of Arc would have been to France, had she not been burned at the stake just in time.’
One of Stephanie’s ‘conquests’ during her young days in Vienna also visited her at Schloss Leopoldskron. He was Fritz Schönbichler, tall, fair-haired, good-looking and with piercing blue eyes. He was still a good friend of hers, and a brilliant pianist, who enchanted everyone with his playing.
At this point decisions had to be made about a professional career for Stephanie’s son Franzi, who was still at Oxford University. His ambition was to join the German Diplomatic Service and, exploiting his acquaintance with Fritz Wiedemann, it was to Hitler’s adjutant that he now turned for assistance.
Leopoldskron 5.2.1938
Dear Captain Wiedemann,
I am enormously sorry to hear that you have got to have a knee operation in the next few days. I hope it all goes off well and that you will soon be able to return to your sporting activities.
Meanwhile, I would like to take this opportunity, while you are laid up and perhaps have a little less to do, to put a request to you.
Would you be kind enough to answer a few questions that I have wanted to ask you for a long time?
First of all, what preparations, examinations or formalities are necessary for the German diplomatic service?
Are foreign qualifications such as the French ‘Baccalauréat’ or the British ‘Diploma of Responsions’ and ‘Degree of Bachelor of Arts’ recognised for a career as a German diplomat? I would also very much like to know, if an entrance examination is obligatory, whether one can take this before doing military and labour service.
I would be hugely obliged to you, dear Herr Hauptmann, if you could answer these questions as soon as possible. My address is 51 High Street, Oxford.
But now I must not bother or detain you any longer.
I am most grateful to you in advance and remain, with very best wishes for a speedy recovery,
Your sincerely devoted
Franz Joseph Hohenlohe
The very next day, Wiedemann forwarded the prince’s letter to a senior counsellor named von Kotze in the German Foreign Office in Berlin, asking him to send Franz the papers he requested. Wiedemann added that the Führer was aware that the princess’s son was thinking of joining the German Diplomatic Service. The reply written by ‘Wiedi’ – as Franz called him – gives precise information about the entry requirements for the Diplomatic Service he was so keen to enter.
However, it seems that Franz did not fulfil all the requirements, for on 25 October 1938 Wiedemann confirmed that, at Stephanie’s request, he had spoken to a Dr Ilgner of the giant chemical concern, I.G. Farben. The young prince was now to send his application papers there with all speed. Wiedemann also advised Franz to give his name as a reference, when it came to the question of his Aryan ancestry – ‘after I have looked at the papers myself, of course’.
Wiedemann went on to explain: ‘Basically, I agree with your mother that you should grab this opportunity to join I.G. Farben. It offers plenty of prospects without closing any doors to you later on. Furthermore, Dr Ilgner feels it important, as does your mother, that you should do short-term military service … If I were you, I would also mention in your letter that at the moment your nationality is still Hungarian, but that you intend to apply for German nationality.’
Wiedemann’s connection with I.G. Farben went back a long way. This was because of his extremely close relationship with Lilly von Schnitzler, wife of a main board director of I.G. Farben, Georg von Schnitzler. In 1934 the von Schnitzlers’ daughter married Dr Herbert Scholz, who made a textbook career for himself in the Nazi Party. In connection with Stephanie’s son, it is interesting to read a letter dated 23 November 1938 from Wiedemann to ‘His Excellency Ambassador Döme Sztojay, Berlin’. In it he asks that the enclosed flask of lavender perfume from Princess Hohenlohe be passed on to Herr Scholz, who was by then adjutant to the Regent of Hungary, Admiral Horthy. In this way Princess Stephanie did a little to help her son’s job application, along with a gift to Schnitzler’s son-in-law.
As for the ‘short-term military service’ mentioned in ‘Wiedi’s’ letter, Franz asked for further details. It was a form of military service for men over twenty-four years of age. These men were occasionally called up for brief exercises lasting four to eight weeks. Thus Franz could take up his post with I.G. Farben without delay.
So that the young prince need not walk anywhere, two cars were placed at his disposal by Daimler-Benz AG in Munich – an open Type 170V IIIA sports car, and a supercharged cabriolet. But in December 1938 the firm wanted to have both cars back. Fritz Wiedemann, now promoted to Brigadeführer, immediately replied to say that both the prince and the princess wanted to go on using the cars over Christmas. Not until early in the new year would he be in a position to state how much longer the cars would be needed.
On 8 October 1938 Stephanie sent a letter personally addressed to State Counsellor Gritzbach, in which she suggested that art objects from Austria might be sold for hard currency to an interested group abroad. The reply she received was that the letter had been forwarded to the person responsible for such matters, the Reich Minister for Science and Education, Bernhard Rust.
The ministry, in the person of a principal secretary named von Normann, then sent Wiedemann a detailed statement of its position, which Wiedemann did not, however, agree with. He wanted the matter put before Field-Marshal Göring, particularly in view of Germany’s urgent need to acquire foreign currency.
Stephanie was staying at the Adlon hotel in Berlin when her Hungarian lawyer, Dr Ernö Wittmann, wrote telling her about the interest expressed by an eminent British art dealer, Lord Duveen, which Wittmann had in turn discussed in Paris with Duveen’s agent, Dr Simon Meller: ‘Meller is of the opinion that should Berlin be inclined to sell any art objects of the 18th century, such as Watteau’s paintings in Potsdam (especially L’Enseigne de cher Guersain), his syndicate would be happy to buy them and would pay well – and possibly also some 13 Rembrandt paintings of Jews! It would be a good thing if you could deal with this business in Berlin.’ The princess had no difficulty in taking on this assignment. She had a sound understanding of art and was a shrewd negotiator, but time was against her – as would soon become clear.
One very special guest at Schloss Leopoldskron was the British politician and shipowner, Lord (Walter) Runciman. In 1938 he was Britain’s official intermediary in the dispute between the Czech government and the Sudeten German Party (see p. 218 endnote). In the summer of that year he was sent to the Sudetenland to sound out sentiments there, and it was suggested to Princess Stephanie – probably by Wiedemann – that she should invite him to Leopoldskron as well. The groundwork was laid and Runciman spent several delightful days at the Schloss.