Elizabeth I Released Her Disgraced Favourite - But Refused to Restore the Income He Relied Upon

In our last Tudor post, we learned more about Robert Devereux, the Earl of Essex, when he returned from Ireland without Queen Elizabeth I's permission in September 1599. 

Essex spent the following months hoping Elizabeth would forgive him. On the 19th of March 1600, he was moved to his own residence, Essex House, but he remained under supervision and was not free to come and go as he pleased. He continued writing to the queen, appealing for her mercy, but his efforts brought little success.

On the 5th of June 1600, Essex appeared before a special commission at York House to answer for his conduct in Ireland. His failure to follow royal instructions, his negotiations with Hugh O'Neill and his unauthorised return to England were all examined. He was found guilty of disobedience and lost several important positions, including his place on the Privy Council. But, Elizabeth allowed him to keep the office of Master of the Horse, and he was ordered to remain under restraint.

His circumstances eventually improved, and on the 26th of August 1600, Essex was granted his freedom. He could now move about without the restrictions that had been imposed upon him, but Elizabeth still refused to allow him back to court. Essex continued hoping that their relationship might recover, although there was little indication that the queen was ready to trust him again.

Another difficulty was approaching. For years, Essex had enjoyed a valuable royal monopoly connected with imported sweet wines, which provided him with a substantial income. When the privilege came up for renewal in the autumn of 1600, Elizabeth refused to extend it. Without this money, Essex faced increasing financial pressure at a time when his political influence had already been badly weakened.

Essex had once been one of the most powerful men at Elizabeth's court, but much of that influence had disappeared. He increasingly blamed Sir Robert Cecil and other royal advisers for his troubles, believing they were preventing him from regaining the queen's favour. His supporters remained loyal, but Essex was becoming frustrated with his repeated attempts to secure Elizabeth's forgiveness.

As 1600 drew to a close, Essex began considering other ways of recovering his former position. Discussions among his supporters were becoming increasingly dangerous, and some believed that forcing a change in the queen's advisers might be the answer. What Essex decided to do next would bring him into direct conflict with the government he had once served.

Image info:

Robert Devereux, 2nd Earl of Essex, by Sir William Segar. National Gallery of Ireland. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

She Walked Into a London Tea Room in 1940 - And Helped Expose a Wartime Spy Ring

In early 1940, a young woman began visiting the Russian Tea Rooms in South Kensington, London. She appeared sympathetic towards Germany and claimed to work at the War Office. The people she met had no idea that she was actually working for MI5, or that she had been sent there to investigate their activities.

Her name was Joan Miller, and before the war she had worked for the cosmetics company Elizabeth Arden. She joined MI5 shortly before the outbreak of the Second World War and eventually came to the attention of Maxwell Knight, who was responsible for investigating political subversion. Knight wanted Joan to infiltrate a secretive organisation known as the Right Club and discover who belonged to it.

The Right Club had been founded in 1939 by Conservative MP Archibald Ramsay. Its members held strongly antisemitic views, and some openly sympathised with Germany. Meetings were sometimes held in a flat above the Russian Tea Rooms, which was run by the Wolkoff family.

Joan was introduced to the establishment through another undercover agent and gradually gained the confidence of Anna Wolkoff, who was closely involved with the club. By pretending to share Anna's political sympathies, she was able to learn more about the organisation and its members. Before long, Joan had been accepted into their circle.

What she discovered was far more serious than political meetings. Anna had become acquainted with Tyler Kent, he was an American cipher clerk who was working at the United States Embassy in London. Kent had been secretly taking confidential documents, including correspondence involving Winston Churchill and President Franklin Roosevelt, and he allowed members of the Right Club to look at them.

Anna was also involved in passing sensitive information through contacts connected with the Italian Embassy. At one point, she asked Joan to help deliver a coded message intended for William Joyce, who was broadcasting German propaganda from abroad. Rather than sending it on, Joan showed the message to Maxwell Knight.

MI5 had other agents investigating the group, and their combined work helped uncover the extent of the security breach. On the 20th of May 1940, Kent and Wolkoff were arrested. Both were subsequently convicted, with Anna receiving ten years in prison and Kent seven.

While Britain was preparing for the possibility of invasion, Joan Miller had been conducting her own secret operation in the heart of London. She had entered a group whose members believed she was one of them, and helped expose an affair involving stolen diplomatic correspondence and contacts with Britain's enemies.

Image info:

You Forget – But She Remembers, British wartime propaganda poster, artist Whitear, Ministry of Information, The National Archives, INF 3/271. Public domain.

Elizabeth I’s Favourite Walked Into Her Bedchamber Unannounced - But His Welcome Did Not Last Long

In our last Tudor post, we followed Robert Devereux, the Earl of Essex, as his military campaign in Ireland came to an unsuccessful end. Rather than defeating Hugh O'Neill and bringing the Nine Years' War to a close, Essex had agreed to a truce and returned to England without Queen Elizabeth I's permission. His decision was a serious breach of royal orders, but Essex hoped that speaking to the queen personally might help him explain his actions.

On the 28th of September 1599, Essex arrived at Nonsuch Palace in Surrey at around ten o'clock in the morning. Still dirty from his hurried journey, he made his way through the palace and entered Elizabeth's private bedchamber without being announced. The queen had only recently risen and was not yet fully dressed, with her hair loose around her face. It was a remarkable breach of court etiquette, even for someone who had enjoyed her favour for so many years.

Essex knelt before Elizabeth, kissed her hands and spoke with her privately. According to a contemporary account, he emerged from the meeting in remarkably good spirits, seemingly relieved by his reception. He had apparently expected a much worse welcome. But Essex saw the queen twice more that day, and by their final meeting her attitude towards him had changed.

Elizabeth wanted an explanation for his conduct in Ireland, particularly the truce he had negotiated with O'Neill and his decision to leave his command without permission. She had entrusted him with a substantial army and expected him to follow her instructions. Essex had already tested her patience on several occasions, but this involved far more than an ordinary disagreement between the queen and one of her favourites.

On the 29th of September, Essex appeared before the Privy Council, where he was questioned for approximately five hours. The councillors strongly criticised his actions, regarding the truce as unacceptable and his departure from Ireland as a desertion of duty. He had already been ordered to remain in his rooms at court, and on the 1st of October he was placed in custody at York House.

It was a considerable humiliation for a man who had once enjoyed such influence over Elizabeth. Essex had returned to England hoping to restore his position, but within days he found himself separated from the court and facing an uncertain future. His military reputation had suffered, and his relationship with the queen was badly damaged.

For the moment, Essex's future remained in Elizabeth's hands. Whether he could regain her favour was another matter entirely, and the events of the following year would take their relationship towards an even more serious confrontation.

Image info:

Robert Devereux, 2nd Earl of Essex, by Marcus Gheeraerts the Younger, c. 1596–1601. National Maritime Museum, Greenwich. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

The Secret British House Where Captured Spies Were Interrogated

In the summer of 1940, as Britain prepared for the possibility of a German invasion, MI5 took over a large house near Ham Common in south-west London. Known as Latchmere House, the building had previously been used to care for officers suffering from nervous disorders following the First World War.

Now it had a very different purpose. The house became a secret interrogation centre known as Camp 020. Initially, it held various suspects, including suspected fascists, but by late 1940 its main work involved questioning captured enemy spies.

The man in charge was Robin Stephens, a former army officer nicknamed 'Tin Eye' because of the thick monocle he wore. He had a reputation for being a particularly intimidating interrogator. Stephens used isolation, threats and psychological pressure to obtain information, but he strictly forbade his officers from physically assaulting prisoners.

The house had also been fitted with hidden microphones. Post Office engineers installed listening equipment in July 1940, allowing intelligence officers to overhear conversations without prisoners knowing. Even when they were alone in their rooms, their words might still be recorded.

Among those brought to Camp 020 was Wulf Schmidt, a German agent who parachuted into Britain in September 1940. He was quickly captured and interrogated before eventually becoming a British double agent under the codename TATE. His wireless messages continued to reach German intelligence, but the information was now controlled by MI5.

Another prisoner was Karel Richter, who parachuted into Hertfordshire in May 1941. After two days without food, he sought help and attracted the attention of a policeman. At Camp 020, Richter stubbornly denied being a spy until officers confronted him with another captured German agent, Josef Jakobs.

After seventeen hours of interrogation, Richter finally admitted where he had hidden his parachute and wireless equipment.

Information gathered at Camp 020 helped British intelligence identify German espionage activities and recruit double agents. Some became part of the Double-Cross System, sending false information to Germany while appearing to remain loyal to their original employers.

The centre remained in operation until 1945. What had once been a house used for the care of wounded officers had become one of Britain's most important wartime interrogation centres.

Image info:

British Second World War propaganda poster, There’s Often a Listener – Silence Is Safety. Ministry of Information, The National Archives, reference INF 3/247. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Prince Albert Grew Up Alongside His Older Brother - But Their Futures Would Be Very Different

Long before he became Queen Victoria's husband, Prince Albert was growing up in Coburg with his older brother, Ernest. The boys were just fourteen months apart and spent much of their childhood together. Ernest was born on the 21st of June 1818, followed by Albert on the 26th of August 1819.

Their father was Duke Ernest I, and the family spent time at several residences, including Schloss Rosenau, which was a country house surrounded by beautiful gardens and woodland. Ernest, as the eldest son, was expected to inherit from his father, but Albert's future was less clear.

As we discovered in our previous Victorian post, their parents' marriage broke down, and their mother, Louise, “left” in 1824. The brothers remained with their father, and their grandmothers continued to be an affectionate part in their lives.

In 1823, Johann Christoph Florschütz became their tutor, and he would remain an important figure throughout their childhood. The boys even shared rooms with him in the upper part of Rosenau. Their education included history, geography, languages, music and drawing, but Florschütz also believed that they should spend plenty of time outdoors.

The brothers had their own little garden at Rosenau, complete with flowerbeds, a birdhouse and a summerhouse. They helped look after the plants and even built a miniature fort in the grounds. Both developed an interest in natural history, collecting specimens such as butterflies, shells and stones.

They were close but had very different personalities. Ernest was outgoing and Albert was thoughtful and increasingly serious about his studies. But Albert had a mischievous side too, he enjoyed practical jokes and imitating people to make others laugh.

In May 1836, both brothers travelled to England and met their cousin, Princess Victoria. She enjoyed their company, and Albert particularly impressed her with his appearance, intelligence and conversation. Four years later, he became her husband.

Ernest remained in Germany and inherited his father's duchy in 1844. Albert, meanwhile, began a completely different life beside Britain's queen.

When Albert returned to Rosenau with Victoria in 1845, he showed her the rooms where he and Ernest had spent their childhood with their tutor. It was a chance to revisit the home and memories of the years before his life had changed so dramatically.

Image info:

Princes Ernest and Albert of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, artist unknown, c. 1820s. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Britain Hired a Woman to Trick Its Own Wartime Spies - And One Told Her Almost Everything!

On the 7th of December 1942, a young Belgian man named José Tinchant was waiting in a café in Liverpool. He was training to become a secret agent for Britain's Special Operations Executive, and had been told to meet a contact as part of an undercover training exercise. But instead of the man he was expecting, a young woman approached him and introduced herself as Christine Collard, a French journalist.

She explained that she had been asked to help him, and José apparently saw no reason to be suspicious. They spent much of the day together, drinking coffee in cafés, going to the cinema and eventually having dinner. Unfortunately for José, his new acquaintance wasn't quite who she claimed to be.

Her real name was Marie Christine Chilver, and she was working for British intelligence under the codename Agent Fifi. Her job was to find out whether trainee spies could keep their secrets when approached by someone they thought they could trust. And José wasn't doing particularly well!

By the end of the day, he had revealed details about his background, training and intended mission in Belgium. Marie reported everything to her superiors. José had previously been regarded as a promising trainee, but following her report, the SOE ended his employment.

Marie had quite an interesting background herself. Born in London in 1920, she grew up in Latvia before travelling to Paris to study. After the German occupation of France, she was interned at Besançon, but managed to escape and eventually reached Britain in 1941, having helped a wounded British airman along the way.

British intelligence initially had doubts about her story, but after questioning her, they recognised that she possessed some rather useful skills. In 1942, she began working for the Special Operations Executive, testing the men and women who hoped to operate behind enemy lines.

She travelled around wartime Britain, meeting unsuspecting trainees in hotels, cafés and restaurants. Some managed to keep their mouths shut, while others were surprisingly willing to discuss things they really should have kept to themselves.

Her work remained largely unknown for decades, until her secret wartime files were made public in September 2014.

For the unfortunate José, one friendly afternoon in Liverpool had been enough to bring his career as a secret agent to an end.

Image info:

Don't Forget That Walls Have Ears! (1942), by Cyril Kenneth Bird, known as Fougasse. British Ministry of Information. Australian War Memorial, reference ARTV02448. Public domain.

William the Conqueror Took English Soldiers Across the Channel - And They Burned Towns for Him

In my last medieval post, we followed William the Conqueror’s invasion of Scotland in 1072, when King Malcolm III agreed to make peace and handed over hostages, including his son Duncan. William returned to England having dealt with another threat to his authority, but trouble was also developing across the Channel.

 

Before conquering England in 1066, William had been Duke of Normandy, and he had spent years trying to extend his power into neighbouring territories. One of these was Maine, a county to the south of Normandy. William had taken control of it in 1063, but while he was occupied with England, the people of Maine had rebelled against Norman rule.

 

The citizens of Le Mans, the county’s principal city, had established a commune through which they hoped to govern their own affairs. They had also sought support from Fulk IV, Count of Anjou, who had ambitions in the region. William could not afford to lose Maine, particularly when its position made it important to the security of Normandy.

 

In early 1073, William crossed the Channel with an army of Norman and English soldiers. Only seven years had passed since William defeated Harold at Hastings, yet Englishmen were now fighting in his army, helping him recover territory on the continent.

 

The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle records that the English soldiers caused considerable destruction during the expedition. Vineyards were ruined, towns were burned, and land was laid waste as William’s army advanced. The people of Maine were now experiencing the destruction that William’s armies had inflicted on parts of England.

 

William forced the surrender of Fresnay and Beaumont, while the lord of Sillé submitted before a siege could begin. He then advanced towards Le Mans, where the inhabitants surrendered without a prolonged siege. William agreed to respect certain existing rights and customs of the city.

 

William had regained control of Maine by the spring of 1073. His eldest son Robert, later known as Robert Curthose, held a claim to the title of count, although Norman control of the county would continue to be challenged in the years ahead.

 

William had now spent seven years fighting to secure his position on both sides of the Channel. What I find particularly interesting is that English soldiers were helping the very man who had conquered their country. We do not know how every soldier felt about serving him, but their involvement shows just how much had changed since 1066.

 

And while William was occupied with events in Normandy and Maine, Edgar Ætheling, the English prince who had once been considered for the throne, had not disappeared from the story.

 

Does it surprise you that English soldiers were fighting for William just seven years after the Norman Conquest?

 

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

 

 

Image info:

The former Palace of the Counts of Maine, Le Mans. Drawing by Louis Moullin, 1854. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.