WILLIAM HAD WON THE CROWN - THEN HE LEFT ENGLAND

WILLIAM HAD WON THE CROWN - THEN HE LEFT ENGLAND

On the 25th of December 1066, William of Normandy was crowned King of England at Westminster Abbey. He had defeated Harold Godwinson at Hastings and secured the submission of leading English figures, but his hold over much of the country was still uncertain.

Yet in March 1067, only a few months after his coronation, William sailed back to Normandy.

He was still Duke of Normandy, with responsibilities and interests across the sea. His return also gave him the opportunity to celebrate his victory, and before sailing from Pevensey, he appears to have made a show of rewarding some of the men who had helped him conquer England.

Before leaving, William had attempted to reach an understanding with several leading English nobles. Earls Edwin, Morcar and Waltheof had initially been allowed to keep their lands and titles. Edgar Ætheling, whom English leaders had chosen as king following Harold’s death but who had never been crowned, had also received favourable treatment.

However, William did not leave these powerful men behind in England.

Edgar, Edwin, Morcar and Waltheof all accompanied him to Normandy, along with Stigand, Archbishop of Canterbury. Keeping them close meant that some of the most influential English figures were away from their own supporters during William’s absence.

Back in England, the king left his half-brother Odo, Bishop of Bayeux, and William fitzOsbern, one of his closest supporters, to oversee the government of his new kingdom.

Although some English officials remained in their positions, the changes brought by the conquest were already being felt. Lands belonging to Harold’s family and others who had fought against William were being confiscated, while Norman castles and garrisons helped the new rulers establish their authority.

And while William was away, resistance began to emerge.

In Kent, Eustace, Count of Boulogne, who had fought alongside William at Hastings, joined forces with English opponents of Norman rule. Together they attempted to capture Dover Castle, but the attack was repelled by its garrison.

Further west, Eadric the Wild joined forces with Welsh allies and attacked the Norman defenders at Hereford. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle records that they inflicted considerable harm on the castle’s men.

William returned to England in December 1067, but the unrest was far from over. In 1068, he faced further resistance at Exeter, where the inhabitants held out against him before eventually surrendering after a siege.

It is easy to think of the Battle of Hastings as the moment England was conquered. But William’s departure and the fighting that followed show just how much remained unsettled.

He had been crowned King of England, but the struggle to bring the country under Norman control would continue for years.

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Image info:

The South-East View of Pevensey Castle, Sussex, engraving by Samuel and Nathaniel Buck, 1737. Public Domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

They Had Fought Against Britain - Now They Were Working on British Farms

They Had Fought Against Britain - Now They Were Working on British Farms

In 1940, Britain had sent thousands of civilian internees and some prisoners of war overseas, partly because of growing fears about invasion. But by the following summer, Italian prisoners were being brought into Britain to work on the land. Many were soldiers captured during the fighting in North Africa, and the British government had plans to put them to work.

By 1941, British agriculture was under enormous pressure. Thousands of men were serving in the armed forces, while farmers were being encouraged to produce as much food as possible to help feed the country. With fewer experienced workers available, extra labour was badly needed.

On the 7th of August 1941, the Minister of Agriculture told Parliament that the first 2,000 Italian prisoners intended for agricultural work had arrived in Britain, with more expected over the following months. Initially, much of their work involved digging ditches, improving drainage and reclaiming land. These were important jobs when every available acre of farmland mattered, but as the scheme expanded, prisoners also began working directly on farms, helping with harvesting and other agricultural tasks.

In villages and farming communities across Britain, Italian prisoners gradually became a familiar sight. Men who had been captured while serving in an army fighting against Britain were now helping to produce food for British families.

The prisoners remained under military authority, even while working outside their camps. Some travelled to their jobs in supervised groups, while others were eventually accommodated in smaller hostels or allowed to live on farms. Farmers couldn’t simply employ them as ordinary workers, as arrangements had to be made through the wartime agricultural authorities.

Their pay was also very different from that of British farmworkers. In February 1942, Parliament was told that Italian prisoners doing unskilled work received three farthings an hour, up to a maximum of sixpence a day. Those doing skilled work could receive one and a half pence an hour, up to a shilling a day.

When prisoners were sent out from camps, farmers paid the county war agricultural executive committee for their labour. The prisoners themselves received their much smaller payments through the War Office.

In September 1943, Italy agreed an armistice with the Allies, but this didn’t mean that Italian prisoners in Britain were immediately allowed to return home. They remained prisoners of war, although their circumstances would begin to change.

During 1944, arrangements were introduced for prisoners who agreed to cooperate with the Allied war effort. These men could be granted greater freedom of movement, although they were still subject to restrictions. From August 1944, cooperating Italian prisoners could travel without an escort within five miles of their camp or billet during permitted off-duty hours, provided they returned by 10pm.

By the end of 1944, around 157,000 Italian prisoners of war were being held in Britain. Their labour had become an important part of wartime agriculture, particularly at a time when Britain was trying to grow more of its own food.

Some of these men spent years working on British farms, often becoming familiar faces in the communities around them. Yet even after Italy changed sides in 1943, they remained prisoners, separated from their families and uncertain when they would return home.

Did anyone in your family ever mention Italian prisoners of war working on local farms? Perhaps you remember stories of prisoners living or working near your village. I’d love to hear them.

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Image info:

Michael Ford, Italian Prisoners-of-War Working on the Land, 1942. Imperial War Museums, Art.IWM ART LD 1833. Public domain (expired Crown copyright).

They Paid a Penny to Hear Stories - And Even a Hall for 1,500 Wasn’t Big Enough

They Paid a Penny to Hear Stories - And Even a Hall for 1,500 Wasn’t Big Enough

Imagine arriving for an evening out and finding an enormous crowd already waiting outside. The hall could hold 1,500 people, but there seemed to be even more than that trying to get in.

They hadn’t come to see a famous singer or an elaborate stage production. They had come for an evening of penny readings.

During the 1860s, penny readings became a popular form of entertainment across Victorian England. For just one penny, people could listen to stories, poetry, humorous readings and music, often performed by local people giving their time voluntarily.

In 1867, Thomas Wright published an account of his experiences in a book called Some Habits and Customs of the Working Classes. He described attending a penny reading where the crowd rushed through the doors as soon as they opened, desperate to find seats.

The hall quickly filled, with some people still left outside. One woman sitting nearby remarked that she was glad she hadn’t worn her steel crinoline, as she was convinced it would have been damaged in the crush.

The evening’s entertainment included readings from Shakespeare, Walter Scott and Charles Dickens, along with songs, piano music and a flute performance.

But the greatest success was a reading from The Pickwick Papers.

A reader Wright calls Mr Smith had become such a favourite with the audience that they greeted him with cheers. His performance was so entertaining that the hall was repeatedly filled with laughter.

Of course, not every reader was quite so successful. Wright also described audiences at other penny readings becoming impatient with poor performances, sometimes coughing, stamping their feet or interrupting.

Penny readings were organised in towns and villages, often with the involvement of churches, schools and local societies. Some raised money for charitable causes, while others aimed to provide affordable entertainment and encourage an interest in literature.

For people who couldn’t afford many books, or who struggled with reading themselves, these evenings offered an opportunity to enjoy stories they might otherwise never have encountered.

And I rather like the thought of a whole hall laughing together at the adventures of Mr Pickwick. It reminds us that the Victorians enjoyed a good story and a good laugh just as much as we do.

All for the price of a penny.

Would you have enjoyed an evening of penny readings, or would you have preferred the Victorian music hall?

Image info:

A Penny Reading at the Quarters of the 91st Highlanders, Aldershot, 1871. Engraving from The Graphic, after a sketch by Captain Robley. Wikimedia Commons. Public domain.

Britain Feared a German Invasion - So It Began Sending Prisoners Thousands of Miles Away

Britain Feared a German Invasion - So It Began Sending Prisoners Thousands of Miles Away

In my last post, we looked at the first German prisoners of war arriving in Britain during September 1939, when the conflict was barely three weeks old. At that stage, the numbers were relatively small, and the authorities were using places such as Grizedale Hall and Glen Mill to accommodate them. But less than a year later, Britain's situation had changed dramatically, and the government was becoming increasingly concerned about keeping enemy prisoners in the country.

By June 1940, German forces had swept through much of western Europe, British troops had been evacuated from Dunkirk, and France was facing defeat. With the possibility of invasion becoming a very real concern, the authorities feared that captured German servicemen might escape or be freed if enemy forces landed. Sending prisoners overseas seemed a sensible precaution, and Canada agreed to help.

In June 1940, Britain asked Canada to accommodate 3,000 German prisoners of war and 4,000 civilian internees. However, there was an important difference between these two groups, because not everyone selected for transportation had actually fought against Britain. Alongside captured German servicemen were civilians who had been living in Britain, some for many years.

These included German, Austrian and Italian residents who had been detained as potential security risks. Some were refugees who had originally sought safety in Britain after escaping persecution in Europe, while others had established businesses, jobs and families here. In the anxious atmosphere of 1940, people who had previously been considered harmless could suddenly find themselves detained because of their nationality.

Ships began carrying prisoners and internees across the Atlantic, but these voyages presented dangers of their own. German submarines were already attacking shipping, and on the 2nd of July 1940, the Arandora Star was torpedoed by U-47 while sailing towards Canada. The vessel was carrying more than 1,200 internees, predominantly Italian and German civilians, together with military guards and crew members. More than 800 people lost their lives when she sank.

The disaster raised serious questions about Britain's policy of deporting civilian internees and how those selected for transportation had been treated. An official inquiry later uncovered serious problems with the selection procedures, including cases where men appeared to have been sent overseas in error. Nevertheless, further transfers took place, and thousands of prisoners and internees eventually reached Canadian camps.

By October 1944, nearly 34,000 military prisoners were being held in Canada, while Britain was also receiving German prisoners in large numbers following the Allied landings in Normandy. But the events of 1940 reveal a very different side of the story, when fear of invasion led Britain to send captured servicemen and detained civilians thousands of miles across the sea.

Had you heard about these early wartime transfers to Canada, or the tragic sinking of the Arandora Star? I would be interested to know whether anyone in your family ever mentioned them.

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Image info:

Royal Navy, 1940 - SS Arandora Star. Public Domain (expired UK Crown copyright). Via Wikimedia Commons.

The Spanish Armada Had Turned Away - So Why Was Elizabeth I Still Preparing for Invasion?

The Spanish Armada Had Turned Away - So Why Was Elizabeth I Still Preparing for Invasion?

In my last Tudor post, I looked at the Spanish Armada of 1588 and how England faced the threat of invasion from one of Europe’s most powerful kingdoms.

But one of the most famous moments of Elizabeth I’s reign actually happened after the Armada had sailed away.

In August 1588, Elizabeth travelled to Tilbury in Essex, where English soldiers had gathered to defend the country against a possible Spanish invasion.

By then, the Armada had already been driven from the English Channel. But that did not mean England was completely safe.

The Spanish army stationed in the Netherlands, commanded by the Duke of Parma, had been preparing to cross to England. With the Armada driven away, that plan had suffered a serious setback, but English forces remained on alert.

Thousands of soldiers were still waiting, uncertain whether they would soon be called upon to fight.

At Tilbury, Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, had been placed in command of the English land forces. He was one of Elizabeth’s oldest and most trusted favourites, and it was under his command that the men had assembled.

Elizabeth was 54 years old when she visited the camp.

She rode among her soldiers and addressed the men who had gathered to defend her kingdom.

England was ruled by a woman at a time when military leadership was overwhelmingly associated with men. Yet rather than remaining safely away from the threatened coast, Elizabeth had chosen to appear before her army herself.

In the best-known surviving account of her speech, Elizabeth is said to have declared:

“I have the heart and stomach of a king, and of a king of England too.”

She also expressed her willingness to live and die alongside her people if England were invaded.

Those words would become some of the most famous associated with her reign.

But how certain can we be that she actually said them?

The version of the speech most familiar to us today was preserved by Dr Leonel Sharp, who claimed to have witnessed the occasion. He recorded his account years later, in 1623, so we cannot be completely certain that every word was spoken exactly as written.

The visit itself, however, is well documented.

Although the immediate threat from the Armada had passed, the wider war with Spain was far from over. Fighting between the two kingdoms would continue until 1604, more than a year after Elizabeth’s death.

Elizabeth never had to lead those soldiers into battle.

But her appearance at Tilbury would be remembered for centuries, and her words became part of the story of how England faced the threat of invasion in 1588.

I think that is what makes this moment so interesting. Elizabeth’s greatest display of courage may not have been on a battlefield at all, but in the decision to stand before her soldiers when the future of her kingdom had seemed so uncertain.

Did you know that Elizabeth’s famous speech at Tilbury took place after the Spanish Armada had already left the English Channel?

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#TudorHistory #ElizabethI #SpanishArmada #TudorEngland #BritishHistory #HistoryLovers #HistoryFacts

Elizabeth I addressing her troops at Tilbury, 1588. Later historical engraving, artist unknown. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

The War Was Barely Three Weeks Old When German Prisoners Began Arriving in Britain

The War Was Barely Three Weeks Old When German Prisoners Began Arriving in Britain

By the 21st of September 1939, less than three weeks after Britain declared war on Germany, newspapers were already reporting the arrival of German prisoners of war.

Most of the country was still waiting to discover what this new war would bring, but some German servicemen had already been captured and brought to Britain.

Among the earliest prisoners were sailors captured at sea.

On the 14th of September 1939, the German submarine U-39 attempted to attack the British aircraft carrier HMS Ark Royal in the Atlantic.

Its torpedoes exploded prematurely, failing to strike the carrier. Three British destroyers, HMS Faulknor, HMS Foxhound and HMS Firedrake, responded with depth charges.

U-39 was forced to surface and subsequently sank, but the entire crew survived and were taken prisoner.

For these sailors, the war had barely begun, but their fighting was already over.

During those first months, many of the German military prisoners held in Britain were sailors, particularly submarine crews. As the war continued, captured German airmen would join them.

Britain had not yet established the hundreds of prisoner-of-war camps that would appear later. Instead, the authorities initially relied on a small number of places adapted for holding captured servicemen.

Two of the earliest were Grizedale Hall in the Lake District and Glen Mill in Oldham, Lancashire.

Grizedale Hall was a large country house surrounded by woodland and hills. It was used to accommodate German officers, including men captured from submarines, and eventually became known as the 'U-boat Hotel'.

Glen Mill was rather different. A former cotton mill, it was converted to hold prisoners of lower rank.

Their arrival caused considerable curiosity in some communities.

A newspaper report from the 25th of September 1939 described hundreds of people gathering on the slopes overlooking Glen Mill, hoping to catch a glimpse of approximately 40 German prisoners being held there.

For many watching, it may have been their first opportunity to see the German servicemen they had heard so much about since war was declared.

Some accounts described curious exchanges between the prisoners and local people. These early encounters attracted attention, although newspaper reports cannot tell us how everyone felt about having enemy servicemen so close to home.

At this stage, the numbers were still relatively small. A government memorandum dated the 18th of December 1939 recorded that 250 German prisoners of war were being held in Britain.

But the situation changed dramatically in 1940.

Following the German advance through western Europe and the evacuation from Dunkirk, Britain faced the possibility of invasion.

The government became increasingly concerned about the security risks of holding enemy prisoners in Britain, particularly if German forces managed to land.

As a result, many prisoners were transferred overseas, including to Canada and other parts of the British Empire, where they could be held farther away from the fighting.

For the next few years, the number of German prisoners remaining in Britain was relatively small.

That would change following the Allied landings in Normandy on the 6th of June 1944, when German soldiers began arriving across the Channel in far greater numbers.

Eventually, hundreds of thousands would be held in Britain, many working on farms and helping to meet the country's labour shortages.

Long before those mass arrivals of 1944, however, German prisoners were already being held behind barbed wire in Britain, in places as different as a country house in the Lake District and an old cotton mill in Lancashire.

And for the men who arrived in September 1939, nobody could have known just how many years might pass before they saw their homes and families again.

Did your family ever mention a prisoner-of-war camp in your area, or remember German prisoners arriving during the war? I'd love to hear their stories.

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

Image info:

German prisoners working on the camp's barbed-wire fence on Christmas Eve 1940.

Credit: Lt W. T. Lockeyear, War Office official photographer. Imperial War Museums, H 6292. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

William Was Crowned King - Then Panic Broke Out at Westminster Abbey

William Was Crowned King - Then Panic Broke Out at Westminster Abbey

By Christmas Day 1066, William of Normandy had won at Hastings, received the submission of leading English figures at Berkhamsted and entered London.

On the 25th of December 1066, he was crowned king at Westminster Abbey.

The ceremony was performed by Ealdred, Archbishop of York. Ealdred presented William to the English-speaking congregation, while Geoffrey, Bishop of Coutances, addressed the Normans in French. Both groups loudly expressed their approval.

Outside the abbey, some of William’s Norman guards misunderstood the noise and apparently believed that trouble had broken out inside.

They reacted by setting fire to buildings nearby.

Smoke began to rise around Westminster. People rushed from the abbey and panic spread through the crowd.

Inside, however, the coronation continued.

According to a later account, William himself was left trembling as the ceremony was hurriedly completed.

It was hardly the calm beginning to a reign that William might have hoped for.

Only a little over two months earlier, Harold Godwinson had been killed at Hastings. William had then spent weeks strengthening his position in southern England and forcing leading figures to submit.

The coronation gave him the crown, but it did not mean that the whole country had accepted Norman rule.

Resistance remained in several parts of England, and major uprisings would follow as William tried to secure his new kingdom.

Hastings had given William a decisive victory and, by Christmas Day, he had the crown.

But the struggle to control England was far from over.

☕ Have a cuppa and let’s discover history together.

Coronation of William I, 13th-century illustration from Flores Historiarum, attributed to Matthew Paris. Public Domain, via Wikimedia Commons.