Lost In Time

I don't place much credence in conspiracy theories.

Any article of course which starts with these words will be touching upon exactly what it claims not to have anything to do with.

I have been fascinated for many years with Lord Halifax, who of course was the Foreign Secretary in Churchill's war cabinet, until he was moved to become the Ambassador in Washington. This is often considered to be one of the most important diplomatic posts that anyone can aspire to.

It seems highly likely that the Earl of Halifax, Viscount Halifax, an important peer of the realm, was moved from his post as Foreign Secretary because Churchill was uncomfortable with the role Halifax had played in supporting the policy of appeasement.

Much has been written over the years about the subject of potential discussions between Lord Halifax and senior officials from Germany, with a view to preventing the hostilities that Churchill played such an important part in directing in his role as Prime Minister of Britain from 1940.

My interests in Lord Halifax extends far beyond the simply political, but in this particular blog, I will concentrate for the moment on the role that Halifax played before he became Britain's Ambassador to Washington.

And perhaps in some respects this will lead to a much broader discussion of the way in which in more modern times this period of history has been reinterpreted as the archives of what were once Eastern European countries under the influence of communist Russia have become available to researchers in the West.

Perhaps at the heart of what I wish to discuss in the political realm is the flight to Scotland of Rudolf Hess in 1941, which resulted in his eventual imprisonment in Spandau prison until his death in 1987.

This is one of those controversial topics that historians are sometimes at a loss to fully explain.

Why did Hitler's Deputy suddenly fly solo to Scotland, and to what extent did he do so with the knowledge both of his German colleagues, and with the knowledge of those in Britain to whom he indicated that he wished to meet with.

Although tried alongside other leading Nazis at Nuremberg in 1945, on the cessation of hostilities, Hess did not suffer the same penalty that so many other senior Nazis received, in other words he was not sentenced to hang, but instead was sentenced to life imprisonment.

One or two other senior Nazis such as the architect Spier were given lengthy prison sentences, but thanks mainly to the insistence of the Russians, Hess was never released, and for the last part of his life, he was the only prisoner in Spandau prison in Berlin, and the reason for its remaining in use.

One of the many books about Hess is entitled The Loneliest Man In The World. And this perhaps summarises the Enigma that is Rudolf Hess, who was extensively examined by psychiatrists, and who was at different times said to be mentally ill if not entirely insane.

A simple description of his journey that ended in his parachuting into Scotland might seem quite sufficient to justify an assertion of his insanity.

But there is much more to this than first appears from a cursory description of what took place.

Perhaps the truth can never fully be appreciated of what took place in 1941, but there is certainly much that has been written, and continues to be written, as more comes to light from numerous sources to encourage a reinterpretation of events at the time.

As recently as in 2008, the Daily Telegraph published an article about the role that Halifax played in this mad scheme to potentially negotiate a treaty between Germany and Britain.

There are many reasons why questions might be raised about Germany’s reticence in treating Britain in the same way that Nazi Germany treated the rest of Europe.

There were certainly occasions during the second world war when it seems extraordinary that Hitler failed to act in the way that he had ruthlessly acted elsewhere in Europe.

For example, after Germany’s failure to defeat the RAF in the Battle of Britain the barge concentrations carefully accumulated in preparation for an invasion of Britain, Operation Sea Lion, were dispersed and plans for invasion eventually shelved.

In spite of the fact that it is highly likely that an invasion that followed on swiftly from the German successes in the defeat of France would have been successful.

And the failure to invade the island of Malta, strategically central to control of the Mediterranean, and weak enough to have fallen to a small force that could have been parachuted in from Germany’s ally Italy, might realistically be described as significant enough mistakes to have cost Hitler the war.

It is fortunate indeed that German aggression was finally overcome, and the threat of a second dark age finally averted.

Britain was undoubtedly weak and vulnerable at this critical time when it was fighting alone against German aggression.

Perhaps once America came into the war after Pearl Harbor defeat for Germany and Japan was inevitable, but it was hard won and at times things were very much in the balance.

And so an examination of the motives behind Rudolf Hess flying to Scotland might well throw some light on some of these difficult questions.

What was Hitler’s Deputy up to when he made this flight that eventually led to him becoming the last prisoner to have been held at the Tower of London?

There have been suggestions that even his death at the age of 93 was suspicious, and that he would not have had the strength to raise his hands above his head let alone hang himself from the electrical flex in his cell.

Every aspect of his case has been examined over and again, from interviews with his guards through to an examination in fine detail of his flight across Europe, seemingly managing to avoid detection by Britain’s aircraft defence Systems.

But still nothing is definitive.

Perhaps this is the nature of some questions, that they can never satisfactorily be explained.

Simply encouraging all kinds of conspiracy theories which endeavor to fill the vacuum left once all of the facts have been considered.

In some respects, my major interest in this matter is an artistic and creative one, so that Lord Halifax plays a crucial role in the background to my first novel.

And perhaps more can be appreciated of the role that he played in all of this by looking at how my interest in Lord Halifax has been raised, and which in some respects has given me a unique insight into this strange chapter in European history.

I lived and worked in Leeds in Yorkshire for 10 years from about 1982, after I had completed my degree at university College London.

I lived in Leeds at the Western extreme, quite close to a house that Lord Halifax inherited in about 1909.

Temple Newsome house has a long and rather extraordinarily interesting history, having been confiscated by the Crown, at least twice in its history, with its occupant being executed as a traitor.

Perhaps as its name suggests, it was once a property of the Knights Templar. Although of course when they were excommunicated by the Pope in 1307 it became available for more secular uses.

A grand house was built in the 15th century, which was described as the Hampton Court of the North.

This house substantially survives intact, and these days belongs to the City of Leeds where it serves as a home for some of the Museum of Leeds collection of fine furniture and other artworks.

The estate serves as the venue for an annual opera festival that takes place in the enormous grounds of the park surrounding the house.

It it is a fine place for the people of Leeds to spend leisure time, perhaps visiting the model farm where children can see all kinds of animals including sheep, cattle, and a wide variety of ducks and chickens.

The house and grounds were sold to the City of Leeds by Lord Halifax for a nominal sum, and since it was only one of several major houses owned by the Viscount, he was hardly put out for somewhere to live appropriate to his situation.

A friend of mine began studying a for a PhD in art history and Temple Newsome figured centrally to his doctoral thesis, and his doctoral thesis directly inspired the plot of my first novel, which I commenced in about 1989, and only finished completely this year.

A long time in the making, but hopefully worthwhile.

It is currently being edited by one of my carers, who is an avid reader and although not a professional editor, has the right kind of background for what after all will be a self published first novel.

Interestingly, I have already published the first four chapters of my second novel, Sacred Places, in a collection of short stories written by me during the 1990s and beyond.

There is no simple way to learn how to write a novel, it is my belief that you can only learn how to write one by doing so.

And once having written one, why stop there?

My friend obtained his PhD, and he currently works as the curator of a fine country house in rural Yorkshire.

His PhD thesis has probably been available in the libraries of Leeds where no doubt such theses are public domain items once they have been completed.

But I suppose I was fortunate to hear the details of my friends’ thesis from his own lips, and quite simply he was engaged in collating a catalogue of the pictures that had hung at Temple Newsome in the 18th century.

Most of the collection has been scattered over the centuries, but Davids’ work has collated a list of the paintings and drawings that existed in this fine house at the end of the 18th century.

Fine as an academic exercise, but what stimulated my interest particularly was the fact that David had seemed to have discovered an otherwise unknown Rembrandt painting, that has been lost to history.

The plot of my novel simply revolves around my supposition of what the fate of this painting might have been.

Clearly, a lost work by someone of Rembrandt’s stature would be worth millions, and there is no doubt that there are numerous other works of fiction that have taken a similar theme.

But my novel has now been completed, after having been in existence only as an incomplete manuscript for more than 20 years.

The connection with Lord Halifax and Temple Newsome is obvious, but there is something else which connects my novel story with that of Rudolf Hess.

Quite simply, I travelled to Portugal for a holiday when I was looking for ideas for an extended piece of writing.

I’m not very good at holidays, but I forced myself with the idea that I would use it as a research trip in which I would start to write my novel.

What came out of that holiday was quite extraordinary.

Truth as they say is stranger than fiction, and in this instance that is certainly the case.

For when I arrived at the airport in Faro, with no destination planned, I ended up renting an apartment from somebody I met at the airport.

It had been her mother’s apartment, and she had died leaving her daughter with an apartment full of her mother’s things, and as a friend of mine that is a tour guide in Portugal later told me, it is quite common in for the financial acumen of the Portuguese to be expressed just like I experienced, and so I found myself staying in a furnished apartment belonging to my hosts’ dead mother.

And what should I find on the bookshelves almost destined simply to inspire me, but a biography of Rudolf Hess.

And not just any biography. But the official Nazi biography of Rudolph Hess, which must have been published before Hitler’s Deputy flew to to Scotland, after which Hitler issued an edict that if he should ever be found in Germany he should be shot on sight.

Quite something to find in someone’s apartment. And no wonder it should lead me to construct a plot for a novel, once combined with my friends doctoral thesis.

And the rest, as they say, is history. or rather, the reinterpretation of it.