Elizabeth I’s Former Favourite Marched Through London Against Her Government - But Almost Nobody Joined Him

In our last Tudor post, we followed Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, as he returned from Ireland in September 1599 without Elizabeth I’s permission. His campaign had been unsuccessful, and his unexpected appearance in the queen's private chamber had only made matters worse. Essex had been one of her favourites for years, but things were now very different.

In June 1600, Essex was deprived of his major public offices and ordered to remain under confinement. He was eventually allowed his freedom, although Elizabeth would not permit him to return to court. Later that year, she also refused to renew his valuable monopoly on sweet wines, which had provided him with a considerable income.

Essex was already heavily in debt, and he blamed men such as Robert Cecil for turning Elizabeth against him. By early 1601, he was gathering supporters at Essex House in London. He was convinced that the queen was being badly advised and that something needed to be done about it.

On the 7th of February, some of his followers arranged a special performance of Shakespeare's Richard II at the Globe Theatre. The play concerned a king who was removed from his throne. Whether the performance was intended to encourage support for Essex is still debated by historians.

The following morning, several senior officials arrived at Essex House to find out what he was doing. Rather than cooperate, Essex detained them and set off into London with around 200 armed supporters. He claimed that he was acting in the queen's interests and warned that her advisers were plotting against him.

But the people of London did not respond as he had hoped. Few came forward to support him, and his men were eventually confronted by forces loyal to the queen. Essex returned to his house, where he surrendered later that day.

On the 19th of February 1601, Essex and his close friend, the Earl of Southampton, were tried for treason. Both were found guilty and sentenced to death, although Southampton was reprieved and remained in prison.

Essex was not so fortunate. On the 25th of February, he was beheaded at the Tower of London. He was 35 years old.

Only a few years earlier, Essex had been one of the most influential men at Elizabeth's court. Now he had lost everything, and his attempt to regain his position had cost him his life.

In our next Tudor post, we will look at Elizabeth's final years and the growing question of who would inherit her throne.

Do you think Essex genuinely believed he was helping Elizabeth, or had his ambition clouded his judgement?

☕ Have a cuppa and let's discover history together!

Image info:

Robert Devereux, 2nd Earl of Essex, by Marcus Gheeraerts the Younger, c.1597. National Portrait Gallery, London. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

The Germans Helped a Captured Polish Spy Escape - But He Ended Up Working Against Them

In November 1941, German intelligence officers arrested a Polish spy named Roman Czerniawski in occupied Paris. For almost a year, he had been running a secret intelligence network that passed information about German military movements to the Allies. Now his organisation had been uncovered, and many of the people working for him were in German hands.

Roman had been an officer and pilot in the Polish Air Force before the war. After Poland's defeat in 1939, he made his way to France, where he continued working against Germany. By late 1940, he had helped establish an intelligence network called Interallié, which eventually included around 150 agents and informants.

Unfortunately, the Germans discovered the organisation. One of Roman's closest colleagues, Mathilde Carré, began cooperating with German intelligence and revealed information about the network. Roman was imprisoned, and the Germans soon realised that he might be more useful to them alive than dead.

An officer from the Abwehr, Germany's military intelligence service, offered Roman a deal. If he agreed to work as a German spy in Britain, arrangements would be made to protect members of his captured network. Roman agreed, but he would ultimately use the arrangement against the Germans.

In July 1942, the Germans arranged an elaborate escape from captivity. A staged accident involving a prison convoy made it appear that Roman had escaped, although he was actually being transported separately under German supervision. He travelled through Spain and Gibraltar before reaching Britain. He was questioned by Allied intelligence officers and eventually revealed that he had agreed to work for the Abwehr.

British intelligence was understandably cautious. After all, the Germans had deliberately sent him to Britain, and they needed to be certain where his loyalties lay. However, Roman eventually joined MI5's Double Cross system, which used agents believed to be working for Germany to send misleading information back to the enemy.

He was given the codename BRUTUS and began passing carefully prepared reports to his German contacts. Some information was genuine, which helped maintain his credibility, while other details were deliberately misleading.

By 1944, Roman was helping with the deception surrounding the Allied invasion of France. His reports supported the false impression that the main invasion would take place near the Pas-de-Calais, even after Allied troops had landed in Normandy on the 6th of June. The hope was that Germany would continue holding forces back rather than sending them to reinforce Normandy.

Roman was one of several double agents involved in this remarkable deception, but his contribution was important. The Germans continued to trust information coming from a man they believed they had successfully recruited.

Roman survived the war and settled in Britain. He died in London on the 26th of April 1985, aged 75.

I find it quite extraordinary that the Germans went to so much trouble to help Roman reach Britain, believing they were gaining a valuable spy. Instead, they had helped put one of their opponents in a position to deceive them.

Image info:

Roman Czerniawski, later known as Agent BRUTUS. Centralne Archiwum Wojskowe / Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain.

Queen Victoria Had Nine Children - But Pregnancy Was One Part of Marriage She Dreaded

In my last Victorian post, we looked at Queen Victoria's wedding to Prince Albert in February 1840. The young couple were very much in love, but Victoria was not quite so enthusiastic about everything that came with married life. As Queen, she was expected to have children and secure the succession, preferably with a son. Yet pregnancy was something she came to dread.

Victoria was only 20 when she married Albert on the 10th of February 1840, and their first child arrived just nine months later. She had wanted more time to enjoy being newly married, although her feelings about that first pregnancy were not entirely unhappy. Princess Victoria, affectionately known as Vicky, was born on the 21st of November 1840. Then, on the 9th of November 1841, Albert Edward, the future Edward VII, arrived.

Albert thoroughly enjoyed family life. He played with the children, took an interest in their education and had quite definite ideas about how they should be brought up. Victoria also wanted a large family, but she found the constant pregnancies difficult. They interfered with her duties and left her feeling that she had lost some of her independence. Albert increasingly helped with government papers, eventually taking on much of the work of her private secretary.

Victoria was remarkably frank about motherhood in her private letters. She described feeling as though her wings had been clipped by pregnancy and even compared women who were constantly having babies to rabbits or guinea pigs! She was not particularly fond of newborn babies either, once describing them as rather froglike. She did love her children, although she was often happier with them once they were a little older.

Childbirth frightened her too. When Prince Leopold was born in April 1853, Dr John Snow administered chloroform to ease her pain. Victoria was enormously grateful for it and used it again when Princess Beatrice was born in April 1857.

By the age of 37, Victoria had given birth to nine children, all of whom survived into adulthood.

I find it interesting that Victoria could love her husband, want a large family and still thoroughly dislike being pregnant. The happy family portraits that we see today certainly don't tell the whole story of what motherhood was like for the Queen.

Image info:

Franz Xaver Winterhalter, The Royal Family in 1846. Royal Collection, RCIN 405413. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

The Belgian Woman Who Helped 118 People Escape from German-Occupied Europe During the Second World War

Andrée de Jongh was a 23 year old woman from Belgian who helped Allied airmen to escape from occupied Europe during the Second World War. She was known as Dédée and she helped to organise an escape route that would become known as the Comet Line.

Andrée was born on the 30th of November 1916 in Schaerbeek, near Brussels. Before the war, she worked as a commercial artist and trained as a volunteer ambulance worker. When the Germans invaded Belgium in May 1940, she began helping wounded Allied soldiers who had been left behind. She soon became involved in finding ways to get them out of the country.

In 1941, Andrée and Arnold Deppé began organising an escape route through Belgium and France to Spain. They relied on local people who were willing to hide servicemen in their homes, provide false papers and help them on their way. There was quite a lot involved, as the men had to travel through German-occupied territory before crossing the Pyrenees into neutral Spain.

Andrée went on many of these journeys herself. She would accompany the men by train and then help guide them across the mountains. Considering the risks involved, I was surprised to learn that she kept returning to Belgium to collect more men. She is credited with personally helping 118 people reach safety, including around 80 Allied airmen.

On the 15th of January 1943, Andrée was arrested near the Spanish border after someone betrayed her to the German authorities. She was interrogated and later sent to Ravensbrück concentration camp, followed by Mauthausen. Her father, Frédéric, was also involved in helping the Resistance, but sadly he was arrested and executed by the Germans.

Andrée survived her imprisonment and was liberated in 1945. The Comet Line had continued operating after her arrest, with other volunteers taking over the work. After the war, she trained as a nurse and spent many years working with people suffering from leprosy in Africa.

She died on the 13th of October 2007, aged 90.

Something I keep coming across when researching the Second World War is how many ordinary people became involved in helping others, often knowing very well what would happen if they were caught. Andrée was one of them, although the number of people she personally helped is quite extraordinary.

Had you heard of Dédée and the Comet Line before?

Image info:

Andrée de Jongh, February 1946. Photographer unknown. Public domain (UK Crown copyright), via Wikimedia Commons.

QUEEN VICTORIA WAS FOUR MONTHS PREGNANT WHEN A YOUNG MAN FIRED TWO PISTOLS AT HER CARRIAGE

In my last Victorian post, we looked at Queen Victoria's wedding to Prince Albert and her famous white wedding dress. The couple had married on the 10th of February 1840, and by June they were expecting their first child. Victoria was just 21 years old, and although she had been Queen for three years, she was about to experience something that would remain with her for the rest of her life.

On the evening of the 10th of June 1840, Victoria and Albert left Buckingham Palace in an open carriage for their usual drive. As they travelled along Constitution Hill, a young man standing beside the road suddenly fired a pistol towards them. Victoria initially struggled to understand what had happened, but when the man raised a second pistol, she ducked. Another shot rang out, although neither she nor Albert was injured.

The gunman was Edward Oxford, an 18-year-old who had previously worked in London public houses. Members of the public quickly seized him, and he was taken into custody. Rather than returning to Buckingham Palace, Victoria and Albert continued to the home of her mother, the Duchess of Kent, so she could see for herself that her daughter was unharmed.

They then carried on with their drive through Hyde Park. By this time, news of the shooting had spread, and crowds gathered to cheer the young Queen. Victoria's decision to appear in public so soon after the attack was widely admired.

Meanwhile, the authorities were trying to understand why Oxford had done it. A search of his belongings uncovered papers describing a supposed secret organisation called Young England, complete with military ranks and elaborate rules. However, investigators found no convincing evidence that the organisation actually existed.

There was another mystery. Although Oxford had fired both pistols, no bullets were ever recovered, and he maintained that they had contained only gunpowder. Whether he had genuinely intended to kill the Queen remained uncertain.

Oxford went on trial for high treason in July 1840. The jury accepted that he had fired the pistols but found that he was insane at the time. He was detained at Bethlem Hospital and later transferred to Broadmoor.

After 27 years in confinement, Oxford was released in 1867 on condition that he left Britain permanently. He settled in Australia, where he lived under the name John Freeman until his death in 1900.

This was the first of several attempts on Queen Victoria's life during her long reign. But one question about that June evening was never satisfactorily answered: had Edward Oxford actually fired bullets at the Queen?

Image info: G. H. Miles, Edward Oxford’s assassination attempt on Queen Victoria, 1840. British Museum / Wikimedia Commons. Public domain

THE GERMANS SENT A FRENCH PILOT TO STEAL A BRITISH AIRCRAFT - BUT MI5 HAD OTHER PLANS.

In May 1943, a young French pilot named Roger Grosjean was offered a rather unusual assignment by German intelligence. He was to make his way to Britain, join the Free French Air Force and send information about Allied aircraft and military activities back to Germany. Eventually, he was expected to steal a British aircraft fitted with modern navigational equipment and fly it into German-controlled territory.

Grosjean was only 22, but his flying career had already been badly disrupted by the war. He had joined the French Air Force in 1939, only to suffer injuries in two separate flying accidents. When the remaining French forces were demobilised in November 1942, he began studying law in Paris. What he really wanted, however, was to return to flying and take part in the fight against Germany.

When the German offer came along, Grosjean accepted it. Evidence suggests that he may have seen the assignment as a way of reaching Britain, rather than genuinely intending to help the Germans. With assistance from German intelligence, he travelled through Spain and Portugal before arriving in Bristol on the 2nd of July 1943.

On the 24th of July, while being processed at the London Reception Centre, Grosjean admitted that he had been recruited by the Germans. British intelligence questioned him about his contacts and mission before offering him the opportunity to work for MI5 instead. He agreed and was given the codename FIDO.

Grosjean joined the Free French Air Force and began sending secret messages to his German contacts under British supervision. The intention was to persuade the Germans that he was carrying out his assignment, while allowing MI5 to pass misleading information and possibly uncover other agents. Unfortunately, establishing reliable communication with his German handlers proved difficult.

There was another problem. Grosjean wanted to fly, but MI5 remained worried that he might attempt to steal an aircraft. In January 1944, he was finally allowed to undertake refresher flying training at RAF Caistor in Lincolnshire, although he remained under close scrutiny.

By May 1944, British intelligence was still uncertain how far it could trust him. With the Allied invasion of France approaching, MI5 wanted him kept away from sensitive operations. Grosjean was subsequently posted to North Africa, where he became a flying instructor.

After the war, he left the Air Force and eventually became a respected archaeologist in Corsica. He died in 1975, without ever telling his children about his wartime work for British intelligence.

It was only many years later that his son, François, began uncovering the story through wartime documents, diaries and his father's papers. The young pilot who had travelled to Britain on a German intelligence mission had spent part of the war secretly working for the British instead.

Image info:

G. Woodbine, RAF official photographer / Imperial War Museums, CH 7471. Public domain.

Elizabeth I Sent Her Favourite to Crush a Rebellion - But He Returned Without Her Permission

In my last Tudor post, we followed the Battle of the Yellow Ford in August 1598, when Hugh O'Neill and his Irish allies defeated an English army attempting to relieve a fort on the River Blackwater. The defeat was a serious blow to Elizabeth I, and the fighting was spreading beyond Ulster. The queen decided to send one of her most prominent commanders to Ireland.

Robert Devereux, the Earl of Essex, had been one of Elizabeth's favourites for years. He had already made a name for himself during the attack on Cádiz in 1596, and another successful military campaign would do his reputation no harm. On the 15th of April 1599, he arrived in Dublin with 16,000 infantry and 1,300 cavalry.

Elizabeth wanted O'Neill's rebellion brought under control, but Essex did not head straight towards Ulster. Instead, he spent much of the following months campaigning through southern Ireland. His soldiers captured Cahir Castle in May, but his main opponent remained undefeated.

Back in England, Elizabeth was growing increasingly impatient. Essex had been given a large army, but months had passed without the result she wanted. When he finally marched north at the end of August, his available force had been reduced to around 4,000 men.

On the 7th of September 1599, Essex met O'Neill at a ford near the Ulster border. The two men spoke privately before further discussions took place. The following day, representatives from both sides agreed to a truce lasting six weeks, with arrangements for extending it.

Elizabeth was deeply dissatisfied. She had expected Essex to confront O'Neill, not negotiate an agreement with him.

Essex received the queen's criticism but decided to return to England without her permission. On the 28th of September, he arrived at Nonsuch Palace and entered Elizabeth's private chamber unexpectedly, hoping to explain himself.

His return did not go as he had hoped. The following day, he appeared before the Privy Council to answer for his conduct in Ireland. He was subsequently placed under house arrest, and his position at court was badly damaged.

Essex had once enjoyed Elizabeth's favour, but that relationship was now falling apart. In our next Tudor post, we will follow how his growing desperation eventually led him to rebellion against the queen's government.

Do you think Elizabeth was right to be angry with Essex, or had he been given an impossible task?

☕ Have a cuppa and let's discover history together!

Image info:

Robert Devereux, 2nd Earl of Essex (1565–1601). Portrait after Marcus Gheeraerts the Younger, c.1596. National Portrait Gallery, London. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.