The Lost Colony of Roanoke: Brief Overview

The Lost Colony of Roanoke: Brief Overview

 Today I want to discover more about one of the most unsettling mysteries in early American history- the lost Roanoke Colony.

In the late sixteenth century, England was gripped by ambition and anxiety. Expansion promised wealth and power, but the Atlantic was huge, unfamiliar, and threatening. In 1587, a group of around 115 English men, women, and children arrived on Roanoke Island, just off the coast of what is now North Carolina. Sponsored by Sir Walter Raleigh, this was meant to be England’s first permanent settlement in the New World - a foothold in an unknown land.

From the beginning, relations with local Indigenous peoples were uncertain, supplies were limited, and the settlers were painfully aware of how isolated they were. Their governor, John White, faced an impossible decision only weeks after their arrival. The colony urgently needed food and reinforcements, and White was the only one with the authority to return to England to secure them. Leaving behind his daughter and newborn granddaughter- Virginia Dare, the first English child born in the Americas -he sailed back to Ebngland, promising to return as quickly as was possible.

But England was pulled into crisis as war with Spain was escalating, culminating in the threat of the Spanish Armada. Ships were seized for defence, ports were closed, and White was trapped. What was meant to be a short absence stretched into three long years.

When White finally returned in 1590, he found the settlement was deserted. Homes had been dismantled rather than destroyed, suggesting an organised departure rather than violence. There were no bodies, no signs of a battle, no clear panic. Just one clue carved into wood: the word “CROATOAN,” and the letters “CRO” etched into a tree. White had previously agreed with the colonists that if they were forced to move, they would leave a clear sign- and if danger forced them away, a cross was to be left.

There was no cross.

The absence of any obvious violence made the mystery even more disturbing. Had the settlers moved willingly? Had they sought safety elsewhere? Or had something gone terribly wrong after they left? Storms prevented White from sailing to nearby islands to investigate any further, and he was forced to abandon the search. The colonists were never seen again.

Over the centuries, theories have multiplied. Some believe the settlers integrated with local Indigenous communities, slowly disappearing into new lives and identities. Others argue they may have attempted to relocate inland, only to succumb to disease, famine, or conflict far from European eyes. More sinister possibilities suggest attacks or betrayal, though the lack of physical evidence makes certainty impossible. Each theory carries its own weight -survival through adaptation, or  extinction through isolation.

What makes Roanoke so powerful is not just that the people vanished, but that they vanished quietly.  No confirmed fate. Just absence. For those waiting in England, the fear must have been unbearable -not knowing whether loved ones were alive, suffering, or already lost. 

Roanoke reminds us how thin the line was between hope and disaster in early colonisation. It is a ghost story- families who stepped into the unknown and were never heard from again.

Perhaps the true legacy of Roanoke lies not in solving the mystery, but in what it reveals about the fragile beginnings of empire. These were ordinary people-families, children, labourers-caught between European ambition and an unfamiliar world that offered little margin for error. Their story sits at the uneasy intersection of hope, fear, and human resilience. Until new evidence emerges, Roanoke will remain a reminder that history is not always written by survivors, and that some lives slide beyond the record, leaving only questions behind.

Do you think the settlers of Roanoke were more likely to have survived by blending into new communities, or does their disappearance suggest a tragedy we may never fully uncover?

 

 

  

 

Image info:

John White returns to Roanoke, finding the colony abandoned, marked only by “CROATOAN.”

Artist: William Ludwell Sheppard; engraving by William James Linton.

Date: 1876

The Forgotten Majority: Everyday Life for Tudor England’s Rural Poor

The Forgotten Majority: Everyday Life for Tudor England’s Rural Poor

Today I want to discover more about what life was really like for rural workers in Tudor England- not the kings and queens we so often talk about, but the labourers and their families who made up the vast majority of the population and carried the weight of the country on their backs.

For rural labourers, life was very much shaped by the land, seasons, and a need for survival. Most families lived in small villages or hamlets, often in simple timber-and-wattle cottages with thatched roofs. These homes were usually cramped, smoky, and cold in winter. A single room often served as kitchen, living space, and sleeping area, with perhaps a loft above. Life was lived close together, not just physically but emotionally, because family was the main safety net in a world with very little protection.

Work began in the early morning and never truly stopped. Men laboured in the fields from dawn to dusk, ploughing, sowing, harvesting, repairing hedges, tending animals, or working for a local farmer or landlord for daily wages. The work was brutally physical and dependent on weather. A poor harvest could mean hunger, debt, or worse. There was no real concept of rest beyond Sundays and holy days, and even then, animals still needed care. Exhaustion was normal, and injury could be disastrous. But even relentless labour could not guarantee security, because changes to land ownership were beginning to reshape rural life in ways labourers could not control.

Women worked just as hard, though their labour was often described differently. They brewed ale, baked bread, spun wool, made clothing, cared for animals, gathered fuel, fetched water, and managed the household finances. Many also worked in the fields at busy times like harvest. Their work was unpaid but essential. Without women’s labour, families simply could not survive. Pregnancy and childbirth were frequent and dangerous, but women were expected to carry on regardless. Strength, resilience, and acceptance were quietly admired qualities.

Children were not sheltered from this world. From a young age, they worked alongside their parents, scaring birds from crops, gathering firewood, herding animals, or helping with domestic tasks. Childhood, as we understand it today, barely existed. Education was rare for labourers’ children. Some might learn basic prayers or letters through the church, but most were illiterate. This was not seen as a failing. In Tudor thinking, each person had a place, and learning to work was considered more important than learning to read.

Food was simple and repetitive. Bread was the staple of every meal, often coarse and dark for the poor. Pottage- a thick stew made from vegetables, grains, and occasionally meat - filled most bellies. Meat was a luxury, usually eaten only on special occasions. Hunger hovered constantly, especially in bad years. Compared to today, the lack of choice, nutrition, and security is striking. But meals were communal, and food was shared. Survival was collective, not individual.

Family dynamics reflected the wider belief in order and hierarchy. The father was seen as the head of the household, responsible for discipline and moral behaviour. The mother managed daily survival. Children were expected to obey, contribute, and prepare for the same life their parents lived. Love must have existed, but it was probably expressed through duty rather than indulgence. Date night was probably not a huge concern!

This structure mirrors the wider Tudor belief that everyone had a God-given role.

Religion shaped everything. The church calendar organised the year, providing structure, meaning, and rare moments of rest. Attendance was expected, not optional. For rural workers, faith most likely offered comfort, explanation, and hope in a harsh world. The church taught obedience, patience, and acceptance of hardship, reinforcing the idea that suffering now might be rewarded later. But the experience of religion differed sharply from that of the rich. While labourers found community and discipline, the wealthy used the church to display power, fund monuments, and for influence.

When we compare this life to today, the differences are immense. Modern workers expect education, rest, healthcare, and the chance to change their circumstances. Tudor labourers did not. Hardship was normalised. Children worked, women laboured without recognition, and exhaustion was a way of life. But there is also something deeply human in their world - shared meals, strong family bonds, community dependence, and a sense of belonging, however restrictive.

Life for rural workers in Tudor England was not designed for happiness or opportunity. It was designed for survival and order. Everyone in their place, everyone doing their part, because that was how the world was believed to function.

Perhaps what stays with us most is how little room there was for choice. Birth largely determined destiny, and effort did not always lead to improvement. But within those narrow boundaries, rural workers still carved out meaning- in shared labour, neighbourly help, seasonal rhythms, and the pride of endurance. Their lives were constrained, often harsh, and rarely rewarded, but they were not empty. If history teaches us anything here, it is that progress is not just about kings changing laws or queens reshaping religion, but about ordinary people surviving long enough for change to become possible at all.

Do you think the Tudor belief that “everyone had their place” created stability, or did it simply trap people in lives they never had the chance to change?

Image info:

Date: 1490 - 1510

Collection: Biblioteca Nazionale Marciana

Title: Grimani Breviary: The Month of June

Living on the Brink: Poverty and Survival in Tudor England.

Living on the Brink: Poverty and Survival in Tudor England

Have you ever wondered what poverty looked like in Tudor England, and how it shaped the daily lives of those who lived at the very edge of survival? Well let’s find out.

Poverty in the sixteenth century was not hidden or exceptional; it was a constant and visible presence in towns, villages, and households across the country. For many people, being poor was not a temporary hardship but a lifelong condition shaped by birth, geography, health, and forces far beyond individual control. Tudor society was rigidly hierarchical, and while the idea of social mobility existed in theory, in practice most people remained where they were born, struggling to survive on fragile foundations.

Most Tudor people lived close to poverty even in good times. Wages for labourers were low and often failed to keep pace with rising prices, especially during periods of inflation caused by population growth and coinage debasement. Employment was insecure and seasonal. Agricultural workers might find steady labour at harvest time, only to face months of unemployment in winter. Craftsmen and urban workers depended on fluctuating demand, illness, or the goodwill of employers. Very few people had savings. A single bad harvest, a sudden illness, an accident, or the death of a breadwinner could push a family from hardship into outright desperation.

Food dominated daily anxiety. Bread formed the foundation of the Tudor diet, especially for the poor, and even small rises in grain prices could have devastating consequences. When harvests failed, families stretched meals with thin pottage made from oats or barley, added peas or roots when they could, or went hungry altogether. Meat was rare for the poor, usually limited to scraps, offal, or occasional salted fish. Hunger was not always dramatic or sudden; for many it was a slow, grinding reality marked by constant undernourishment, weakness, and vulnerability to disease.

Urban poverty was especially visible. Towns such as London attracted migrants hoping for work, but overcrowding and competition were fierce. Many poor families lived in single rooms, sometimes entire households crammed into damp, dark spaces with little ventilation. Sanitation was primitive. Waste ran through open streets, clean water was scarce, and disease spread quickly. Plague outbreaks hit poor neighbourhoods hardest, as residents lacked both the space to isolate and the money to flee. Injury or sickness often meant disaster, because a labourer who could not work could not earn. Medical care was limited, and charity was uncertain and uneven.

Rural poverty came with different pressures but no less hardship. One of the most significant changes of the Tudor period was the enclosure of common land. Common land had allowed villagers to graze animals, collect firewood, and grow small amounts of food. When landowners fenced off these shared spaces for private profit, often for sheep farming, villagers lost vital resources that had helped them survive. Families who once supplemented wages with common rights became entirely dependent on paid work. When work dried up, hunger followed. Many were forced to leave their villages altogether, becoming travelling labourers who walked long distances in search of seasonal employment. This life brought instability, exhaustion, and suspicion from settled communities.

Children experienced poverty intensely and from an early age. Many were sent into service at a very young age, not as a route to opportunity but as a strategy to reduce the number of mouths to feed at home. Service could be harsh, with long hours, strict discipline, and little protection. Other children were apprenticed under difficult conditions or pushed into begging alongside their parents. Orphans were particularly vulnerable. Without family support, they relied on parish care or private charity, both of which varied widely. Some were placed with households that exploited their labour, while others were neglected entirely.

Old age was another big fear. Without pensions or savings, elderly people who could no longer work often slipped into poverty unless they had family willing and able to support them. Widowhood was especially dangerous for women, who faced limited employment options and legal restrictions. Many elderly poor depended on begging, parish relief, or informal help from neighbours to survive.

Religion and government played crucial roles in shaping responses to poverty. In the early Tudor period, monasteries provided food, shelter, and alms to the poor. Their dissolution under Henry VIII removed a major source of relief almost overnight, leaving thousands without support. The sudden disappearance of this safety net increased visible poverty and alarmed authorities. In response, the Tudor state gradually developed systems of poor relief, culminating in parish-based responsibility for the poor. However, this system was uneven, underfunded, and often harsh.

The poor were increasingly divided into categories. Those considered deserving, such as the elderly, disabled, or very young, might receive limited help. The able-bodied poor, however, were viewed with suspicion. Begging without permission could lead to whipping, branding, or expulsion from towns. Poverty became framed as a moral failing rather than a social condition. This shift reflected growing fears about order, idleness, and rebellion in a rapidly changing society.

Vagrants caused particular anxiety. Authorities feared that wandering poor threatened stability and social control. Laws attempted to restrict movement, forcing people back to their parish of birth even when no work or support awaited them there. Being poor and mobile became a crime. Punishments were public and humiliating, reinforcing social divisions and deepening the stigma attached to poverty.

Despite these hardships, poverty did not erase community or resilience. Neighbours shared food when they could, parishes collected alms, and informal networks of support helped many survive. Reputation mattered deeply. Those seen as honest, hardworking, or unfortunate were more likely to receive help than those labelled troublesome or idle. Survival depended not only on money, but on relationships, adaptability, and local goodwill.

Poverty in Tudor England was harsh, visible, and deeply insecure. It shaped daily choices, limited opportunity, and constantly reminded people how fragile life could be. For the poor, survival meant balancing labour, charity, discipline, and punishment in a society that feared disorder almost as much as it pitied suffering.

Do you think Tudor attitudes toward poverty were driven more by fear of social instability or by genuine concern for those in need, and how does that compare to how poverty is understood today?

Image info:

Artist: Pieter Brueghel the Elder 

Title: The Seven Virtues 3 Charity

Date:1559

Collection: Private collection

Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen

Louise of Savoy: A Model of Female Power at the French Court.

Louise of Savoy: A Model of Female Power at the French Court

As you know, I am learning more about some of the people, especially women, who may well have influenced Anne Boleyn. We have touched on her time in Austria and are now learning more about the influences the French court had on her. We know that she loved French fashions and brought them back to England with her, but she would also have been shaped by the people at court. Whether she met them or simply observed them from a distance, their presence would have made a lasting mark. So here is another powerful woman, who I believe may well have influenced Anne.

Louise of Savoy was born on the 11th of September 1476 at Pont-d’Ain, the daughter of Philip II, Duke of Savoy, and Margaret of Bourbon. After her mother’s early death, she was raised by Anne de Beaujeu, the capable sister of King Charles VIII, and was introduced to the refined and politically charged French court. There she met Margaret of Austria, with whom she would later negotiate peace many years on.

At just eleven years old, Louise was married to Charles of Orléans, Count of Angoulême, though she did not live with him until she was fifteen. Their marriage, though not without its complications, was bound by a shared love of books and learning. They had two children who would rise to great prominence, Marguerite, later Queen of Navarre, and Francis, who became King Francis I of France. When Charles died in 1496, Louise was only nineteen, but she proved herself a woman of determination and intelligence, guiding her children’s futures.

She secured her son’s position at court and ensured both he and Marguerite were educated in the humanist ideals and artistic spirit of the Italian Renaissance. Francis’s marriage to Claude of France, daughter of King Louis XII, was a triumph of Louise’s political skill. When Louis died in 1515, Francis ascended the throne, and his mother, now Duchess of Angoulême and later of Anjou, became one of the most influential figures in France.

Louise twice acted as regent while her son was away at war in 1515 and again in 1525- 1526 when he was held captive in Spain. During these times she displayed a talent for diplomacy and governance that earned her widespread respect. She even initiated contact with the Ottoman Empire, seeking the support of Suleiman the Magnificent, and successfully helped negotiate the Treaty of Cambrai in 1529, known as the “Ladies’ Peace”, with her former acquaintance Margaret of Austria. This agreement brought a temporary end to the wars between France and the Holy Roman Empire.

Louise of Savoy died on the 22nd of September 1531 at Grez-sur-Loing, likely of plague, and was buried at Saint-Denis in Paris. Through her daughter Marguerite and granddaughter Jeanne d’Albret, she became the ancestress of the Bourbon kings of France. 

A woman of learning, resilience, and political insight, Louise’s influence stretched far, shaping not only her son’s reign but also the world of refinement, intellect, and ambition that Anne Boleyn would encounter in France. Anne would have seen and heard about these powerful and intelligent women and learned how grace, wit, and diplomacy could shape influence at court, something her family would later use to their advantage, with Anne becoming a tool for their ambitions.

Of equal importance was the model Louise provided for female authority exercised without a crown in her own right. She ruled not through spectacle or overt dominance, but through proximity, intellect, and careful cultivation of loyalty. Her household became a training ground for women who learned how influence could be wielded discreetly: through conversation, patronage, education, and emotional intelligence. This was a court culture in which women were not merely decorative, but observant, articulate, and politically aware. For a young woman like Anne Boleyn, watching from within or just beyond this circle, it demonstrated that power did not always require a throne—only access, confidence, and an ability to read the shifting currents of favour.

Louise also embodied the delicate balance between ambition and restraint. Fiercely protective of her children’s interests, she nevertheless understood the dangers of overreach. Her successes came from patience and timing rather than impulsive action, a lesson Anne may have absorbed deeply. The French court prized elegance, wit, and intellectual sharpness, but it was Louise who showed how these qualities could be transformed into real political capital. In this environment, Anne learned not only how to dress and speak, but how to be seen: how to attract attention without appearing threatening, how to influence without issuing commands, and how a woman’s mind could become her most powerful asset. These lessons, shaped by women like Louise of Savoy, would echo through Anne’s later life in England-sometimes to her advantage, and sometimes with tragic consequences.

Image info:

Artist: Jean Clouet

Portrait of Louise of Savoy

Date: 16th century

Collection: Fondation Bemberg

The Woman Behind the Courts: Marguerite de Navarre’s

Anne Boleyn’s French Inspiration: The Remarkable Marguerite de Navarre

I have been finding out more about the people who shaped, influenced and knew Anne Boleyn prior to her more well-known time at the Tudor court. I have written a little about her time in Austria, and have now been learning more about her influence from the French court. We know she loved the fashions of the French court and that she brought them back to England with her. We know she served Queen Claude, but other women of the court would have influenced Anne in all sorts of ways. One such woman is Marguerite de Navarre, a remarkable princess whose intellect, compassion, and faith made her one of the most important figures of the French Renaissance.

Marguerite was born on the 11th of April 1492 in Angoulême, the daughter of Louise of Savoy and Charles, Count of Angoulême. She and her brother Francis, the future King Francis I of France, were raised in an environment that valued art, learning and culture. Her education was exceptional for a woman of her time, including the study of Latin and the classics.

At seventeen she married Charles, Duke of Alençon, in a match arranged for political convenience, as was common place. Though her husband was loyal and well-meaning, the union was sadly not a happy one. It was after Francis became king in 1515 that Marguerite truly came into her own. Her salons became famous across Europe for their lively discussion of humanist ideas, theology, and the arts. Salons were especially popular in France, where educated nobles and thinkers gathered to share ideas. Other European courts sometimes had similar meetings, but France was the centre of salon culture. Writers, scholars, and reformers gathered around her, and she became known as the “Maecenas” of her brother’s kingdom for her generous patronage.

After Charles’s death, she married Henry II of Navarre in 1527. Their daughter Jeanne later became Queen of Navarre and the mother of Henry IV of France, the first Bourbon king. Marguerite’s marriage placed her in a position of influence both at the French and Navarrese courts, and she used it to promote learning, faith, and tolerance. During the crisis that followed Francis I’s capture at the Battle of Pavia, she rode across to negotiate his release during winter, thus proving her courage and political skill.

As a writer, Marguerite was ahead of her time. Her works include The Mirror of the Sinful Soul, a deeply personal religious poem that explored the relationship between the human soul and God. It was controversial and even condemned by theologians at the Sorbonne, who accused her of heresy. The Sorbonne was a famous university in Paris, known for its powerful theologians and long influence on learning and religion in France. But her brother defended her fiercely. 

Her most famous literary achievement, The Heptaméron, is a collection of stories that combine wit, insight and moral reflection, and is often compared to Boccaccio’s Decameron. Boccaccio’s Decameron is a famous Italian book of one hundred stories told by people escaping the plague in 14th-century Florence.

Marguerite’s influence extended beyond France. Her writings and reformist views are believed to have reached England, and some historians think that Anne Boleyn may have known her personally or served briefly in her household. Anne’s later interest in religious reform and her possession of Marguerite’s Mirror of the Sinful Soul suggest a strong intellectual connection. Years later, Anne’s daughter, the young Princess Elizabeth, translated the poem into English for her stepmother, Queen Katherine Parr, a sign of how Marguerite’s ideas continued to inspire across generations and nations.

As a patron, she protected figures such as François Rabelais, Clément Marot and Pierre de Ronsard, using her influence to shield reform minded thinkers from persecution. Though she remained within the Catholic Church, she sought peaceful reform rather than division, and tried to persuade her brother to show tolerance towards those with different beliefs. Her kindness and generosity became legendary. She walked among her people without guards, listening to their troubles and calling herself “the Prime Minister of the Poor.”

Marguerite de Navarre died on the 21st of December 1549, but her spirit lived on through her daughter, her grandson Henry IV, and the writers and thinkers she inspired. Contemporaries praised her wisdom, humility, and strength, Erasmus, the Dutch scholar who encouraged education and church reform admired her piety. Later historians saw her as the embodiment of the Renaissance’s union of learning and faith. For Anne Boleyn and others who passed through the French court, Marguerite’s example of intellect, courage, and compassion must have left a lasting mark.

Marguerite’s legacy also lies in the atmosphere she created at court-a space where women could participate meaningfully in intellectual life. She encouraged them to read, debate, and write, subtly widening the boundaries of what was considered acceptable for noblewomen of her age. In doing so, she helped nurture a generation of young female attendants who witnessed firsthand how learning and leadership could coexist. For someone like Anne Boleyn, whose formative years were shaped by the courts of Europe, the example of a woman whose influence rested not on beauty or intrigue but on intellect and moral authority would have been especially striking.

Her political instincts were equally sophisticated. Marguerite used correspondence as a diplomatic tool, maintaining networks that stretched from Rome to the German states. Through letters, she cultivated allies, soothed tensions, and gathered information that allowed her to advise both her brother and her husband with unusual insight. This quieter form of statecraft-conducted through persuasion rather than decree-reflected her belief that dialogue could achieve what force often could not. It is a testament to her skill that even opponents acknowledged the tact and steadiness with which she navigated the turbulent religious and political currents of early sixteenth-century Europe.

How much influence do you think Marguerite’s ideas had on the young Anne Boleyn and the reformist climate that followed?

Image info:

Artist: Jean Clouet

Portrait of Marguerite d'Angouleme, duchess d'Angoulême, Queen of Navarre

Date: Valois-Angoulême 

Date c.1527

Collection:

Walker Art Gallery

Elizabeth Cheney: The Hidden Matriarch of the Tudor Queens

The Woman Behind Three Queens: The Story of Elizabeth Cheney.

Let me introduce to you the great-grandmother of Anne Boleyn, Catherine Howard and Jane Seymour. We all know Anne, Catherine and Jane, three of Henry VIII’s famous queens, but their family roots are often overlooked. Without women like Elizabeth Cheney, history may have taken a very different turn.

Elizabeth Cheney, sometimes known as Lady Say, was born in April 1422 at Fen Ditton in Cambridgeshire. She was the eldest child of Lawrence Cheney, High Sheriff of Cambridgeshire, and Elizabeth Cokayne. Through her parents she descended from notable families: her grandfather Sir John Cokayne had been Chief Baron of the Exchequer, while her grandmother Ida de Grey linked her to the powerful Grey family. Elizabeth grew up among the English gentry, and her life would connect her directly to some of the greatest dynasties of Tudor England.

Her first marriage was to Sir Frederick Tilney of Ashwellthorpe in Norfolk and Boston in Lincolnshire. They lived at Ashwellthorpe Manor and had one daughter, Elizabeth Tilney. When Sir Frederick died in 1445, their daughter became heiress to his estates. That daughter would later marry into the Howard family and become grandmother to both Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard, two of Henry VIII’s later queens.

Widowed young, Elizabeth Cheney remarried before the end of 1446. Her second husband was Sir John Say of Broxbourne in Hertfordshire, who rose to become Speaker of the House of Commons and a servant in the household of Henry VI. Together they built a large family of three sons and four daughters, forging alliances with some of the most important houses of the time. Their daughter Anne Say married Sir Henry Wentworth, and from that line came Margery Wentworth, mother of Jane Seymour, Henry VIII’s third queen and the mother of Edward VI.

Thus, from Elizabeth Cheney’s two marriages sprang bloodlines that produced three of Henry VIII’s wives. Through Jane Seymour, she became great-great-grandmother to King Edward VI, and through Anne Boleyn she was an ancester of Queen Elizabeth I.

Elizabeth lived until the age of fifty-one, dying on the 25th of September 1473. She was laid to rest at Broxbourne. Her husband survived her and later remarried, but her legacy remained in ways she could never have imagined. Through her descendants, Elizabeth Cheney’s bloodline shaped the course of English monarchy and forever tied her name to the turbulent story of the Tudors.

Elizabeth Cheney’s own lifetime unfolded during one of the most turbulent chapters in English history. She lived through the later years of the Hundred Years’ War and witnessed the collapse of Henry VI’s authority as the Wars of the Roses ignited around her. Though she did not stand on the battlefield, the shifting fortunes of Lancaster and York shaped the world in which she raised her children. Families like the Cheneys, Tilneys, and Says depended on careful alliances, loyalty, and strategic marriages to navigate the uncertainty of civil conflict. Elizabeth, through both of her unions, positioned her family securely within this landscape, ensuring her children entered adulthood with the advantages of land, lineage, and influential connections.

Her memory endured not only through the royal bloodlines that descended from her but also through the properties, monuments, and local ties she helped cement. At Broxbourne, where she spent her later years, the Say family became central figures in community life, supporting the parish church and leaving their mark on its memorials. Centuries later, antiquarians would uncover her image through brasses and records, tracing the unexpected thread that linked this fifteenth-century gentlewoman to the courts of Henry VIII and Elizabeth I. Elizabeth Cheney never lived to see the Tudor dynasty rise, but her influence-quiet, domestic, and rooted in family-played a decisive role in shaping the very world the Tudors inherited.

What do you think-does Elizabeth Cheney deserve more recognition as one of the hidden architects behind the Tudor dynasty?

Image info:

Oil painting based on a brass rubbing of Elizabeth Cheney 

Date: 31st of May 2022

Source: National Trust Collection

Artist:Wentworth Huyshe

Princess Antoinette: A Forgotten Coburg Princess

Princess Antoinette of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld: A Hidden Figure of the Georgian and Imperial Russian Courts

Princess Antoinette Ernestine Amalie of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld was born in Coburg on the 28th of August 1779, the second daughter of Duke Francis of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld and Countess Augusta Reuss of Ebersdorf. She grew up in a family that later produced King Leopold I of Belgium and Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, making her the aunt of both Queen Victoria and her husband Albert.

On the 17th of November 1798 Antoinette married Duke Alexander of Württemberg. The couple moved to Russia, where Alexander, as an uncle to Emperors Alexander I and Nicholas I, pursued a military and diplomatic career. Antoinette herself was considered influential in society and was awarded the Grand Cross of the Imperial Russian Order of Saint Catherine.

Her marriage was not always harmonious. Letters from her brother George in 1802 suggest the couple lived apart for a time, and rumours circulated of an illegitimate child. Despite these difficulties, Antoinette fulfilled her dynastic role and became the ancestress of the modern Catholic branch of the Württemberg family through her son Alexander.

Antoinette died in St. Petersburg on the 14th of March 1824. She was buried in the ducal crypt of Schloss Friedenstein in Gotha, alongside her husband and children Paul and Frederick.

The couple had several children. Their eldest, Duchess Marie (1799–1860), married her uncle, Duke Ernest I of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, becoming stepmother to Prince Albert. Their son Paul died in infancy, while another son, Duke Alexander (1804–1881), married Princess Marie of Orléans and founded the Catholic Württemberg line. Duke Ernest (1807–1868) married Natalie Eschborn and had one daughter, Alexandra, who continued the line through the von Keudell family. Their youngest child, Duke Frederick Wilhelm Ferdinand (1810–1815), died young.

Although lesser known and seemly far removed she linked German nobility with European royalty, shaping dynastic alliances that strengthened Coburg influence across Europe.

Even now, it is easy to forget how many women’s stories were quietly pushed aside, overshadowed by the louder voices that dominated the historical record. Yet when we pause and look closely, we find women whose lives shaped their families, their communities, and even the fate of nations. They faced the same storms as the men around them-war, loss, upheaval, political change-but carried those burdens with resilience that often went unrecognised. By bringing their experiences back into the light, we reclaim not only their voices but also a richer, fuller understanding of the past.

These stories remind us that history is never just kings, battles, and treaties-it is also the courage of individuals who refused to be erased. Every woman who stepped forward, defied expectation, or simply endured in difficult times left behind a quiet legacy of strength. Sharing their lives today ensures that their influence, once overlooked, becomes part of the shared narrative we pass on.

What overlooked woman from history do you think deserves far more recognition than she’s ever been given?

Image info:

Artist:

After Johann Heinrich Schröder (1757–1812) 

 Herbert Smith 

Princess Antoinette of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld, later Duchess of Württemberg, a copy after the pastel portrait by J.H. Schroeder of c.1795.

Date:1844