The First Anglo-Afghan War - Part Three: The Kabul Uprising That Turned Occupation into Disaster

The First Anglo-Afghan War - Part Three: The Kabul Uprising That Turned Occupation into Disaster

For two years, British leaders had tried to convince themselves that Kabul was under control.

Akbar Khan

Date: 1842

Artist: Vincent Eyre

Then, on the 2nd of November 1841, a crowd gathered outside the home of one British officer.

Within hours, he was dead.

And the British occupation of Kabul was beginning to fall apart.

In Part Two, we saw how British and East India Company forces had captured Kabul and restored Shah Shuja to the Afghan throne. At first, the invasion seemed to have been a success. But beneath the surface, resentment was growing.

Alexander Burnes

Date: 1843

Collection: British Museum

Shah Shuja was still deeply unpopular with many Afghans, while the continuing presence of foreign troops was causing increasing hostility. British officials had also been paying subsidies to tribal leaders to maintain their support and help keep important routes open. When some of those payments were reduced, an already dangerous situation became even more unstable.

Image info:

General William Elphinstone

Date: 1836 - 1839

Artist: William Salter

There was another serious problem.

Instead of remaining inside the formidable Bala Hissar fortress, much of the British force was based in a poorly positioned cantonment outside Kabul. Thousands of British and Indian troops, servants and camp followers were living in a position that would be extremely difficult to defend if the city rose against them.

On the morning of the 2nd of November 1841, that danger became very real.

A crowd gathered outside the Kabul home of Sir Alexander Burnes, the Scottish explorer and political officer who had played an important part in British involvement in Afghanistan.

The situation rapidly turned violent.

Burnes, his brother Charles and others with them were killed, and the house was looted.

But what happened next was just as important.

The British response was hesitant.

Major-General William Elphinstone, who commanded the garrison, was in poor health and increasingly unable to provide the decisive leadership the crisis demanded. While British commanders debated what to do, the uprising spread and resistance gathered strength.

What might once have been contained was becoming something much larger.

On the 5th of November, Afghan fighters captured the main commissariat fort, containing much of the British garrison’s food and other essential supplies.

Food and other vital supplies were lost.

Winter was approaching.

And the British position was becoming weaker by the day.

The uprising soon got an important leader in Muhammad Akbar Khan, the son of the deposed ruler Dost Mohammad. Opposition to the occupation was now developing into a wider insurrection, and the British found themselves increasingly trapped.

Sir William Macnaghten, the senior British political representative in Kabul, attempted to negotiate a way out.

But on the 23rd of December 1841, during negotiations with Akbar Khan, Macnaghten was killed.

By then, the situation had changed completely.

The force that had marched triumphantly into Kabul in 1839 was no longer in control.

Its supplies were dwindling. Its leadership was divided. Armed resistance surrounded it. And the freezing Afghan winter was closing in.

The British now faced a terrible decision.

Remain in Kabul and try to recover the situation...

Or leave.

In January 1842, they were forced into agreeing to withdraw.

And what happened next would turn a failing occupation into one of the most infamous disasters in British military history.

Part Four: The Retreat from Kabul – When an Army Disappeared into the Snow

Had you heard about the Kabul uprising before, or only about the disastrous retreat that followed?

The Evacuee Children Who Waited While Strangers Decided Whether They Wanted Them

The Evacuee Children Who Waited While Strangers Decided Whether They Wanted Them

Imagine being seven or eight years old.

You have already said goodbye to your mum and dad, travelled to somewhere you have probably never been before and you are carrying a small case, your gas mask and a label with your name on it.

And then you find out that you still do not know where you are going to sleep that night.

Today I want to look at one of the most unsettling parts of the wartime evacuation: how children were actually found homes once they reached the countryside.

When the great evacuation began in September 1939, children usually travelled with their schools and teachers to designated reception areas. Around 1.5 million people were evacuated during the first three days alone, including hundreds of thousands of children.

But getting them off the trains was just the start.

Many were taken to schools, church halls, village halls or other reception centres while local billeting officers tried to find them all homes.

In some places, people came to the reception centre and chose the children that they were willing to take. The National Archives describes local people walking around and selecting children, some evacuees later remembered that it felt  like being at a cattle market.

Just imagine what that must have felt like.

One child disappears with a smiling couple.

Then another.

Perhaps somebody takes two sisters together.

Another woman wants a little girl.

A farmer might prefer an older boy who could work.

And slowly the room empties.

What if you were still standing there?

For some evacuees, being one of the last children to be chosen became one of the memories that stayed with them for the rest of their lives. Accounts describe children sitting or standing while strangers looked them over before deciding who they would take. Some former evacuees later compared the experience of waiting to be chosen to being at a cattle market.

It is difficult not to think about what might have gone through a child's mind.

Why doesn't anybody want me?

Is there something wrong with me?

Where am I going to end up?

Of course, not every evacuation was like this. In many places billeting officers allocated children directly to particular houses, and thousands of evacuees were welcomed into homes where they were treated with enormous kindness. Some formed relationships with their wartime families that lasted for decades.

But there was another question I had always wondered about.

Who were these people taking the children in, and were they vetted?

Before the war, local authorities had carried out a huge survey of accommodation in reception areas, looking at how much space was available in houses and other buildings. But this was not vetting in the modern safeguarding sense. Accommodation surveys concentrated heavily on finding suitable available space. Although billeting officers and other officials could inspect and supervise billets, there was nothing resembling the modern system of safeguarding and background checks that we would expect today, and standards of inspection and follow-up varied between areas.

Billeting officers and local officials were supposed to remain involved, and concerns about inspecting billets and supervising children's welfare were raised during the war. But arrangements could vary considerably from one area to another.

And did every family happily volunteer to take a child?

No.

Many genuinely wanted to help. They opened their homes willingly, cared for the children and sometimes came to see them almost as members of their own families.

Others were much less enthusiastic.

The government had powers to compel householders in reception areas to provide accommodation when necessary, and the possibility of compulsory billeting had been built into evacuation planning before the war.

So somewhere among those frightened children were youngsters being taken into homes who had not necessarily wanted them there in the first place.

For some children, evacuation became an adventure.

For others, it brought kindness and a second family.

And for some, it left memories of homesickness, rejection or simply standing in a village hall watching everyone else being chosen first.

That is the part of evacuation photographs cannot always show.

Were you evacuated during the war, or did your parents or grandparents ever tell you what it was really like? And did anyone in your family take an evacuee into their home? I would love to hear the memories that have been passed down through families.

The Exeter Conspiracy: The Alleged Tudor Plot That Destroyed Henry VIII’s Royal Cousins

The Exeter Conspiracy: The Alleged Tudor Plot That Destroyed Henry VIII’s Royal Cousins

We have been finding out about some of the people surrounding Reginald Pole and Henry VIII, including members of the powerful Pole and Courtenay families.

And today I wanted to discover more about the event that brought several of them crashing down.

The Exeter Conspiracy.

By 1538, Henry VIII had broken with Rome, declared himself Supreme Head of the Church of England and faced serious opposition from people who remained loyal to the Catholic Church.

One of his most outspoken opponents was Cardinal Reginald Pole.

Pole was safely abroad, beyond Henry’s immediate reach, but his family was still in England. That was particularly dangerous because the Poles were not simply another noble family. Through their mother, Margaret Pole, Countess of Salisbury, they had Plantagenet royal blood.

And they were not the only ones.

Henry Courtenay

Henry Courtenay, Marquess of Exeter, was Henry VIII’s first cousin. His mother, Catherine of York, was the younger sister of Henry’s mother, Elizabeth of York, making Courtenay another man with a strong royal connection.

In Tudor England, royal blood could be a wonderful thing.

Right up until the king decided it made you a threat.

The situation became increasingly dangerous during 1538.

Reginald Pole

Geoffrey Pole, Reginald’s younger brother, was arrested in August and subjected to questioning. Under interrogation, he revealed details of conversations involving his brother Henry Pole, Lord Montagu, and Henry Courtenay.

The men had reportedly discussed the king, religion and Reginald Pole, and there were accusations that some had expressed sympathy with opposition to Henry’s religious policies.

There were also connections between members of the group and Reginald Pole, who had openly condemned Henry’s actions.

For a king already concerned about rebellion and the possibility of foreign intervention, this was enough to look extremely threatening.

The so-called Exeter Conspiracy began to take shape.

Henry Courtenay and Henry Pole were arrested in November 1538, along with others. They were accused of treason and of involvement in plans against the king.

But this is where the story becomes more complicated.

Historians have debated whether there really was a developed conspiracy to remove Henry VIII from the throne. There certainly appears to have been discontent, dangerous conversations and contact with people Henry considered his enemies. Whether that amounted to a genuine organised plan for rebellion is much less certain.

Henry was not inclined to give them the benefit of the doubt.

Sir Edward Neville was executed on the 8th of December 1538.

Henry Courtenay followed on the 9th of December.

Henry Pole, Lord Montagu, was executed on the 9th of January 1539.

Geoffrey Pole, whose evidence had helped implicate the others, was sentenced to death but eventually pardoned.

The consequences didn’t end there.

Margaret Pole

Margaret Pole was imprisoned and eventually committed to the Tower in late 1539, where she remained until Henry VIII ordered her execution in 1541.

Reginald Pole remained out of Henry’s reach.

The Exeter Conspiracy did more than uncover possible opposition to the king. It helped to devastate two powerful families whose royal blood, Catholic connections and relationship with Reginald Pole had made them dangerously suspicious in Henry VIII’s England.

But was Henry VIII uncovering a genuine conspiracy?

Or eliminating people he feared might one day become his enemies?

Operation Pied Piper: The Wartime Evacuation That Turned Childhood Upside Down

Operation Pied Piper: The Wartime Evacuation That Turned Childhood Upside Down

For the next little while, I want to move away from the stories of the remarkable people who helped Jewish people during the Second World War and turn our attention to another group whose lives were changed completely by the conflict - the children.

War is often remembered through the eyes of adults, those who fought abroad or those who struggled to keep life going at home.

But we can sometimes overlook the children whose lives were turned upside down almost overnight.

On the 1st of September 1939, two days before Britain declared war on Germany, a huge evacuation programme began.

It became known as Operation Pied Piper.

The British government were worried that German bombing would cause enormous casualties in major towns and cities. Plans were made to move children and other vulnerable people away from areas that were considered most at risk.

Suddenly, hundreds of thousands of children were preparing to leave home.

Imagine being only six or seven years old and arriving at a crowded railway station, carrying a small suitcase, a gas mask and a label attached to your clothes.

You might not know where you were going.

You might not know who you would be living with.

And perhaps most frighteningly, you might not know when you would see your parents again.

Many children travelled with their schools, accompanied by teachers and other helpers. They took trains out of cities including London, Manchester, Liverpool and Birmingham towards smaller towns, villages and countryside, these areas were considered safer.

For some children, the journey might have been exciting at first.

For others, it would have been frightening and confusing.

And arriving at their destination brought another uncertainty.

Groups of children could be taken to schools, churches or village halls while local families came forward to provide them with somewhere to stay.

Some were welcomed into warm and loving homes.

Others were not so fortunate.

Brothers and sisters could sometimes be separated, and children found themselves living with complete strangers in surroundings that were very different from anything they had known before.

For a child growing up in a crowded city street, suddenly finding themselves on a farm surrounded by fields and animals could feel very scary.

Homesickness was all too common.

Many children missed their parents and letters became incredibly important.

During the first few days of Operation Pied Piper, around 1.5 million people were evacuated, including schoolchildren, mothers with young children and other vulnerable people.

But the bombing that everyone had feared did not immediately arrive.

During the months that became known as the Phoney War, many evacuated children starting returning home.

Then the danger started again.

As the bombings intensified in 1940, particularly during the Blitz, many children were evacuated again.

For some, wartime childhood became a cycle of leaving home, returning and then being sent away again.

Operation Pied Piper was intended to protect children from the bombs.

But behind those famous photographs of children carrying suitcases and wearing name labels were thousands of individual stories of fear, adventure, loneliness, kindness and uncertainty.

Because the Second World War did not only change the lives of those who fought it.

It changed childhood too.

Why William of Normandy Thought England’s Crown Was His - Before Harold Took It Instead

Why William of Normandy Thought England’s Crown Was His - Before Harold Took It Instead

 

A king dies without a child to inherit his throne, several powerful men decide they should replace him, and suddenly England has a rather serious problem.

 

Today I want to start a new series looking at the Norman Conquest and the extraordinary events that led to one of the most famous years in English history: 1066.

 

And I thought we should start with a simple question.

 

Why did William, Duke of Normandy, believe that the English crown belonged to him?

 

To understand that, we need to go back to Edward the Confessor.

 

Edward became King of England in 1042. He was married to Edith, the daughter of the powerful Earl Godwin, but the couple had no children. That meant there was no obvious son waiting to inherit the throne.

 

Never ideal when you are a medieval king.

 

William was Duke of Normandy and was related to Edward through Edward’s mother, Emma of Normandy. Edward had also spent many years in Normandy before becoming king, so there were already strong connections between the English royal family and the Norman court.

 

According to Norman accounts, Edward promised William that he would succeed him as King of England.

 

Whether that promise was really made - and exactly what Edward intended - has been debated ever since.

 

But William certainly believed, or at least claimed, that he had been promised the crown.

 

Then things became even more complicated.

 

Sometime around 1064, Harold Godwinson, one of the most powerful men in England and the brother of Queen Edith, crossed the Channel and eventually found himself at William’s court.

 

Norman sources later claimed that Harold swore an oath supporting William’s claim to the English throne.

 

And this was not supposed to be an ordinary promise.

 

According to the story shown in the Bayeux Tapestry, Harold swore the oath over sacred relics.

 

In medieval Europe, breaking such an oath was a very serious matter.

 

Unfortunately for William, Harold apparently had other ideas.

 

Edward the Confessor died on the 5^th of January 1066.

 

Harold claimed that, before his death, Edward had named him as his successor. The English nobles accepted Harold, and he was crowned King Harold II almost immediately.

 

You can probably imagine William’s reaction when the news reached Normandy.

 

He believed Edward had promised him the throne.

 

He believed Harold had sworn to support him.

 

And now Harold was sitting on the English throne wearing the crown himself.

 

William regarded Harold as an oath-breaker and a usurper and began preparing an invasion.

 

But Harold and William were not the only men interested in England.

 

Across the North Sea, the formidable Norwegian king Harald Hardrada also believed he had a claim.

 

So England entered 1066 with a new king, an angry Norman duke preparing a fleet and a Norwegian warrior king watching from across the sea.

 

It was not going to be a peaceful year.

 

In the next part of this new series, I want to look at the men who believed they had the right to rule England - including one young claimant who is often forgotten - and why Harold Godwinson’s new crown was already in serious danger.

 

Karl Plagge: The German Officer Who Used His Position to Save Jewish Lives

Karl Plagge: The German Officer Who Used His Position to Save Jewish Lives

How do you save people when you are wearing the uniform of the very regime that wants them dead?

Today I want to find out a little bit about Karl Plagge, a German army officer who used his position in the Second World War to protect Jewish men, women and children in occupied Lithuania.

Karl was born in Darmstadt, Germany, on the 10th of July 1897. During the First World War, he served on the Western Front and was later held as a prisoner of war. While he was in captivity he contracted polio, which left him with a permanent disability in his left leg.

After returning home, Karl studied engineering and qualified in 1924. Like many Germans struggling through the difficult years that followed the First World War, he became attracted to the promises of national recovery. In 1931, he joined the National Socialist Party.

It was a decision he would later question.

Karl increasingly rejected the racial beliefs. He refused to teach their racial ideology while working as a lecturer and he eventually withdrew from active involvement with the party.

When the Second World War started, Karl was called into the German Army. By 1941 he was commanding HKP 562, an army vehicle repair unit that was eventually based in Vilnius, Lithuania.

There he witnessed the brutal persecution of Jewish people.

Karl realised that his position gave him something incredibly valuable: the ability to declare people essential workers.

He began issuing work certificates to Jewish men, sometimes claiming they possessed specialist skills they did not actually have. These documents could offer temporary protection not only to the men themselves but also to members of their families.

Karl repeatedly tried to keep his Jewish workers away from the authorities. When workers were arrested, he sometimes intervened and attempted to have them released. He also tolerated activities that helped prisoners obtain desperately needed food.

By 1943, the situation in Vilnius had become even more dangerous. The Germans were preparing to destroy the Vilna Ghetto.

Karl managed to establish a separate forced labour camp for his unit at HKP 562. More than 1,000 Jewish workers and family members were transferred there before the ghetto was liquidated.

Life inside the camp was still frightening and dangerous. Karl did not have complete control, and killings were still carried out. In March 1944, while Karl was away, approximately 250 children and elderly prisoners were taken from the camp and murdered.

He could not save everyone.

But he continued trying to protect as many people as his position allowed.

Then, during the summer of 1944, the Soviet Red Army began approaching Vilnius. Karl understood what was likely to happen next. The authorities would not simply abandon the remaining Jewish prisoners.

On the 1st of July, he spoke to the people in the camp while an officer was present. He could not openly tell them to hide, so his warning had to be carefully disguised.

He explained that the camp would soon be evacuated and that the prisoners would be accompanied by the authorities.

The meaning was clear.

Many prisoners immediately prepared hiding places in walls, attics and concealed rooms.

When the authorities arrived several days later, hundreds of prisoners were taken away and murdered. Others remained hidden.

Around 150 to 200 people survived long enough to be liberated when Soviet forces reached the area.

After the war, Karl faced a denazification court because of his earlier Party membership and his wartime position. Jewish survivors came forward and spoke about what he had done for them.

Karl never considered himself a hero. He believed that other people could also have chosen to act if they had been determined enough to do so.

He died in Darmstadt on the 19th of June 1957, at the age of 59.

For many years his actions were little known outside the families of those he had helped. Eventually, survivors and their descendants worked to bring his story to wider attention.

In 2005, Karl Plagge was posthumously honoured at Yad Vashem as Righteous Among the Nations, following the decision to recognise him the previous year.

His story is particularly complicated because Karl had once joined the National Socialist Party and later served in the German Army. But when confronted with persecution and murder, he chose to use the authority that uniform gave him to protect people instead.

Perhaps that is what makes his story so powerful.

When the system around him demanded obedience, Karl Plagge found ways to disobey it - and because he did, people survived.

The First Anglo-Afghan War - Part Two: Britain Took Kabul - But Disaster Was on the Horizon

 

The First Anglo-Afghan War - Part Two: Britain Took Kabul - But Disaster Was on the Horizon

In Part One, we found out why Britain invaded Afghanistan in 1839 and why Dost Mohammad Khan was seen as a problem for the British in India.

Today I want to continue the story and find out how British and Indian forces advanced through Afghanistan, captured the fortress of Ghazni and eventually entered Kabul.

At first, the campaign appeared to be going well.

The Army of the Indus had entered Afghanistan with the intention of removing Dost Mohammad and restoring the former ruler Shah Shuja to the throne.

Their first major objective was Kandahar.

As the army approached, the local rulers fled and Kandahar was occupied without a major battle. Shah Shuja was proclaimed ruler there, and for the British it seemed that their plan was working.

But Kabul still lay ahead.

One of the biggest obstacles on the route was the powerful fortress of Ghazni.

The fortress was surrounded by high walls and it looked extremely difficult to capture. To make matters even worse, much of the heavy artillery normally needed for a siege had been left behind because transporting it across the difficult Afghan terrain had proved to be challenging.

The British therefore needed to find another way inside.

They learned that one of the gates was less heavily defended than the others.

Before dawn on the 23rd of July 1839, engineers from the British-led force placed explosives against the gate and blew it open.

Troops then rushed through.

Fierce fighting followed inside the fortress, but Ghazni eventually fell to the British-led force.

The victory was enormously important.

Not only had a major obstacle on the road to Kabul been removed, but the fall of Ghazni also weakened Dost Mohammad's position.

As the invading army continued towards Kabul, Dost Mohammad realised that he could no longer hold the capital and withdrew.

This meant that Kabul itself did not have to be taken in a huge battle.

On the 7th of August 1839, Shah Shuja entered Kabul accompanied by British and Indian troops.

On the surface, Britain had achieved exactly what it had wanted.

Dost Mohammad had been driven from power.

Shah Shuja had been restored.

And Kabul had fallen into British hands.

It must have seemed as though the war had been won remarkably quickly.

But there was a much bigger problem.

Shah Shuja's return depended heavily upon foreign troops, and many Afghans did not accept him as their legitimate ruler.

British forces also remained in Afghanistan to keep him in power.

So although the invasion had succeeded militarily, resentment was beginning to grow under the surface.

The British had managed to take Kabul.

Keeping control of it would be far more difficult.

And within only a few years, this apparently successful campaign would end in one of the most infamous disasters in British military history.

In Part Three, we will look at what happened when anger towards Shah Shuja and the British presence in Kabul began to turn into open rebellion.

Do you think Britain made the mistake of assuming that capturing Kabul meant Afghanistan had been conquered?

 

Image info:

Collection: UK National Army Museum

Date: 1839

Artist: W Taylor

 

Géza Ottlik: The Hungarian Writer Who Hid a Jewish Friend When the Arrow Cross Came Looking

Géza Ottlik: The Hungarian Writer Who Hid a Jewish Friend When the Arrow Cross Came Looking

What would you do if armed men entered your home looking for the person you were secretly protecting?

Today I want to find out a little about Géza Ottlik, a Hungarian writer, mathematician and translator who risked his safety to protect a Jewish friend during the Holocaust.

Géza was born in Budapest on the 9th of May 1912. Alongside his literary career, he became a respected bridge theorist and later translated works by writers including Charles Dickens and George Bernard Shaw.

But during the final months of the Second World War, Géza and his wife, Gyöngyi Debreczeni, showed extraordinary courage.

From October 1944, they secretly sheltered Jewish writer István Vas in their Budapest apartment, sharing their limited food with him.

When Arrow Cross members came to the apartment after being told that a Jewish person was hiding there, Gyöngyi kept her nerve and confronted them. Remarkably, they left without discovering Vas. 

The Arrow Cross Party was a Hungarian fascist and violently antisemitic movement that seized power in October 1944. Its members worked closely with the German authorities and became notorious for persecuting, deporting and murdering Jewish people, particularly in Budapest. For anyone hiding a Jewish person, discovery by the Arrow Cross could have been deadly.

Géza also intervened when Vas’s mother was arrested, helping to secure her release.

Vas survived the war.

In 1989, Géza and Gyöngyi were recognised by Yad Vashem as Righteous Among the Nations.

Margaret of Bavaria: The Duchess Who Governed Burgundy During John the Fearless’s Absences

Margaret of Bavaria: The Duchess Who Governed Burgundy During John the Fearless’s Absences

We have recently been finding out about some of the people connected to John the Fearless, Duke of Burgundy, so today I want to find out a little about his wife, Margaret of Bavaria.

Margaret was born in 1363 and was the daughter of Albert I, Duke of Bavaria-Straubing and Count of Hainault, Holland and Zeeland and Margaret of Brieg.

In April 1385, Margaret married John, then Count of Nevers, at Cambrai. Their marriage formed part of an important double wedding between the Burgundian and Bavarian families. At the same time, Margaret’s brother William married John’s sister, Margaret of Burgundy.

When John’s father, Philip the Bold, died in 1404, John became Duke of Burgundy and Margaret became Duchess of Burgundy.

Margaret was far more than simply the duke’s wife. John spent considerable periods away from Burgundy because of his involvement in French politics.

 Margaret increasingly took responsibility for affairs in his territories, and in 1409 she was formally appointed his deputy in Burgundy, allowing her to govern there during his absences. She therefore played an important role in maintaining Burgundian authority while her husband concentrated on events elsewhere.

Margaret and John had several children who would go on to form important political marriages across Europe. Their only surviving son was Philip the Good, who later became one of the most powerful dukes of Burgundy. Their daughters included Anne of Burgundy, who married John, Duke of Bedford, and Agnes, who married Charles I, Duke of Bourbon.

In 1419, Margaret’s life changed dramatically when John the Fearless was killed during a meeting with the future Charles VII of France at Montereau.

Their son Philip succeeded him as Duke of Burgundy, but Margaret continued to play a political role. Philip confirmed her authority to govern Burgundy during his absences, and she acted as regent until 1423.

Margaret died in Dijon on the 23rd of January 1424, having lived through one of the most turbulent periods in Burgundian and French history.

Image info:
Date: 16tg century
Collection: Hospice Comtesse

Would You Have Risked Everything to Save a Stranger?

Would You Have Risked Everything to Save a Stranger?

If you enjoy history with heart, courage, remarkable people and the occasional moment that makes you wonder, “Would I have been brave enough to do that?” then this little booklet may be for you.

It brings together the true stories of men and women who risked their safety, careers and sometimes their lives to help Jewish people during the Holocaust.

Some were diplomats, nurses or clergy. Others were just ordinary people who were faced with an extraordinary choice.

It is an easy, thoughtful read filled with humanity, bravery and stories worth remembering, ideally enjoyed with a cuppa nearby.

My book is available now.

Available https://a.co/d/0eQoxXLO

María Edwards: The Chilean Woman Who Helped to Save Jewish Children in the Second World War.

María Edwards: The Chilean Woman Who Helped to Save Jewish Children in the Second World War.

Today I am going to find out a little bit about María Edwards. She was a Chilean-born woman who became involved with the French Resistance and helped to save Jewish children during the German occupation of Paris.

María Edwards McClure was born in Santiago in Chile, on the 11th of December 1893. She was the youngest of nine children and came from a prominent Catholic family.

In 1913, María married Chilean diplomat Guillermo Errázuriz Vergara. His career took the couple to Europe, and in 1917 their daughter, María Angélica, was born in England. The family later moved to Paris.

Sadly in 1922 Guillermo died and María went on to marry the French writer Jacques Feydeau, although the marriage was short-lived.

When the Germans occupied Paris in the Second World War, María volunteered as a nurse at the Rothschild Hospital. The hospital treated many Jewish patients, including children whose families were being targeted.

María became involved with a resistance network operating around the hospital. She helped Jewish children who had been separated from their parents and were in danger of being deported. Working with others, she helped to arrange their escape and concealment, placing herself at considerable risk.

María was eventually brought to the attention of the German authorities. She was arrested and interrogated, but she continued to risk her life through her resistance work.

After the liberation of France, her courage was recognised. In 1953, she was awarded the French Legion of Honour.

María eventually returned to Chile in 1960. She died in Santiago on the 8th of June 1972, at the age of 78.

More than thirty years after her death, Yad Vashem recognised María Edwards as Righteous Among the Nations in 2005 for the part she played in helping Jewish children survive the Holocaust.

 

Image info:

Artist: William Orpen

Date: 1915

Collection: Mildura Arts Centre

 

Henry Courtenay: The Royal Cousin Caught in the Exeter Conspiracy

Henry Courtenay: The Royal Cousin Caught in the Exeter Conspiracy

We have been finding out about some of the people who were connected to Reginald Pole. Today I want to find out a little about Henry Courtenay, 1st Marquess of Exeter, a close relative of Pole and King Henry VIII.

Image info:

Garter Knights in the Black Book of the Garter

Date: 1535

Collection: Royal Collection, Windsor Castle

Courtnay is second from the left

Henry was born around 1498, the son of William Courtenay and Catherine of York, who was a daughter of King Edward IV. This made him a grandson of Edward IV and a first cousin of Henry VIII.

He was also related to Reginald Pole. Henry’s mother, Catherine of York, and Reginald’s mother, Margaret Pole, were first cousins, making Henry and Reginald second cousins.

For many years, Henry Courtenay had a close relationship with Henry VIII. He accompanied the king to the Field of the Cloth of Gold in 1520, became a Knight of the Garter and in 1525 was created Marquess of Exeter.

He initially supported Henry’s policies and was even involved in proceedings against Catherine of Aragon and the trial of Anne Boleyn.

However, by the late 1530s his position had become increasingly dangerous. His wife, Gertrude, remained Catholic, while Courtenay became increasingly opposed to Thomas Cromwell and the religious changes that were taking place in England.

Most dangerously, Courtenay was in correspondence with his relative Cardinal Reginald Pole, who had become one of Henry VIII’s most outspoken opponents.

In 1538, investigations began into what became known as the Exeter Conspiracy. Courtenay and members of the Pole family were accused of being involved in a Catholic conspiracy against Henry VIII.

Whether there was actually a carefully organised plot still remains debated.

Henry was arrested in November 1538 and was found guilty of treason.

On the 9th of December 1538, Henry Courtenay was executed on Tower Hill.

He had been one of Henry VIII’s closest companions. But his royal blood, religious connections and association with Reginald Pole ultimately helped make him a target.

Why Britain Invaded Afghanistan in 1839: The Fear of Russia That Led to War- Part One

Why Britain Invaded Afghanistan in 1839: The Fear of Russia That Led to War- Part One

Why would Britain send an army deep into Afghanistan when the country itself posed no direct threat to British territory?

image info:

Entrance to the Bolan Pass from DadurArmy of the Indus used the Bolan Pass during the 1839 invasion of Afghanistan.

Today I want to start a new series looking at the First Anglo-Afghan War, one of the most disastrous conflicts of the Victorian era. Over the next few weeks, I want to look at why Britain became involved in Afghanistan, how the campaign initially seemed to succeed, and how events eventually led to the terrible retreat from Kabul.

To understand why British troops went into Afghanistan in 1839, we need to look beyond Afghanistan.

Much of India was controlled by the British East India Company. India was enormously important to British trade, wealth and influence, and British officials were constantly worried about anything that might threaten their position there.

One of their greatest fears was Russia.

During the early 19th century, the Russian Empire was expanding south through Central Asia. British politicians and military officials were becoming increasingly concerned that Russian influence might eventually reach Afghanistan and that it may even threaten British-controlled India.

This rivalry between Britain and Russia later became known as the Great Game.

Afghanistan was situated between the Russian Empire in the north and British India to the south-east, which made it hugely important.

At the time, Dost Mohammad Khan was the most powerful ruler in Afghanistan and controlled Kabul.

Afghanistan had been divided by years of rivalry following the decline of the Durrani Empire. Dost Mohammad had gradually emerged from these struggles and took control of Kabul in 1826. But he faced serious problems of his own.

One of the most important concerned the city of Peshawar.

Peshawar had previously been under Afghan control but had been captured by the Sikh Empire, ruled by Maharaja Ranjit Singh. Dost Mohammad wanted British help to recover the city.

The British, however, had already developed an important relationship with Ranjit Singh and were unwilling to support an Afghan attack against him.

So Dost Mohammad started looking elsewhere for help.

In 1837, a Russian representative, Captain Ivan Vitkevich, arrived in Kabul. To British officials, his presence appeared to confirm their fears that Russia was attempting to gain influence over Afghanistan.

Britain also had its own representative in Kabul, Alexander Burnes.

Burnes had been sent to negotiate with Dost Mohammad and explore the possibility of strengthening relations between Afghanistan and British India.

Dost Mohammad was willing to cooperate, but he again raised the question of Peshawar.

British officials refused to support his claim.

With negotiations failing and a Russian representative also present in Kabul, the British government in India increasingly began to view Dost Mohammad as unreliable.

At around the same time, Persia, with Russian support, was besieging the Afghan city of Herat. To British officials, this made the threat appear even more serious and increased their fears that Russian influence could spread closer to India.

Instead, they decided to support another man.

Shah Shuja Durrani had once ruled Afghanistan but had been driven from power many years before. He was living in exile under British protection.

British officials believed that if Shah Shuja could be restored to the Afghan throne, he would become a friendly ruler who could help prevent Russian influence from spreading towards India.

In October 1838, the Governor-General of India, Lord Auckland, issued what became known as the Simla Manifesto.

It attempted to justify British intervention in Afghanistan and presented the restoration of Shah Shuja as necessary for the security of British India.

An agreement had already been made between the British, Shah Shuja and Ranjit Singh.

The plan was now clear.

Dost Mohammad would be removed.

Shah Shuja would be restored.

And Afghanistan would, British officials hoped, become a reliable barrier between Russian expansion and British India.

Late in 1838, a large force known as the Army of the Indus began preparing to advance into Afghanistan.

At first, British leaders expected the campaign to be relatively straightforward.

Instead, their decision to interfere in Afghan politics would begin a chain of events that ended in one of the most famous military disasters of the 19th century.

In Part Two, I want to look at how the British army entered Afghanistan and how Shah Shuja was placed back on the throne.

Klymentiy Sheptytsky: The Monk Who Hid Jewish Children During the Holocaust - Then Died in a Soviet Prison

Klymentiy Sheptytsky: The Monk Who Hid Jewish Children During the Holocaust - Then Died in a Soviet Prison

Today I want to find out a little about Klymentiy Sheptytsky, a Ukrainian Catholic monk and priest who helped to protect Jewish people during the Holocaust and later died as a prisoner of the Soviet Union.

Klymentiy was born Kazimierz Maria Szeptycki on the 17th of November 1869 in Prylbychi, near Lviv, which was then part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.

He came from a prominent Polish-Ruthenian noble family and was the sixth of seven sons, although two of his brothers died young. His older brother, Andrey Sheptytsky, would later become the Metropolitan Archbishop and head of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church.

Klymentiy was highly educated. He studied in Kraków, Munich and Paris before earning a doctorate in law from the Jagiellonian University in 1892.

For a while, his life was very different from the one he would go on to choose. He helped to manage his family’s estates and became involved in politics, even serving in the Austrian parliament from 1900.

After leaving politics, Klymentiy became drawn towards religious life.

In 1911, he entered a Benedictine monastery in Germany. He later joined the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church and became a member of the Studite monastic community, taking the religious name Klymentiy.

He was ordained as a priest on the 28th of August 1915 and eventually became an important leader within the Studite monasteries.

Following the German invasion of the Soviet Union in 1941, Lviv and the surrounding region came under German occupation. Jewish communities faced persecution and deportation.

Klymentiy worked closely with his brother Andrey to help save Jewish people.

Studite monasteries were used as places of refuge, and Jewish children were among those secretly hidden within religious communities. At the Univ monastery, Jewish boys could sometimes be hidden among the monks and the other young people living there.

Klymentiy helped to organise this network of protection and was directly involved in sheltering people whose lives were in danger.

Among those who survived with the help of the Sheptytsky brothers were Kurt Lewin and David Kahane, both of whom later wrote about their experiences.

When Soviet forces returned to the region in 1944, the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church faced renewed persecution.

Klymentiy became one of the most senior remaining leaders of the Church after many other clergy were arrested.

On the 5th of June 1947, Soviet authorities arrested him.

He was imprisoned and pressured to abandon his allegiance to the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church, but he refused.

Klymentiy was eventually sentenced to eight years in prison.

He never completed the sentence.

On the 1st of May 1951, at the age of 81, Klymentiy Sheptytsky died in Vladimir Central Prison in the Soviet Union.

In 1995, Yad Vashem honoured him as Righteous Among the Nations for risking his life to help save Jewish people during the Holocaust.

Six years later, on the 27th of June 2001, Pope John Paul II beatified Klymentiy during a visit to Lviv.

Klymentiy Sheptytsky lived through two brutal occupations, but continued to protect others and remain faithful to his beliefs. 

Anne of Burgundy: The Duchess Who Helped Hold the English-Burgundian Alliance Together

Anne of Burgundy: The Duchess Who Helped Hold the English-Burgundian Alliance Together

We have been finding out about some of the people connected to John the Fearless, Duke of Burgundy. We have already looked at his son, Philip the Good and Philip’s second wife Bonne of Artois. But today I want to find out a little about John’s daughter, Anne of Burgundy.

Anne was born on the 30th of September 1404. Her father was John the Fearless, Duke of Burgundy, and her mother was Margaret of Bavaria. Her brother Philip later became the Duke of Burgundy after their father’s death in 1419.

Anne was part of one of the most powerful noble families in Europe.

On the 13^th of May 1423, she married John of Lancaster, Duke of Bedford, at Troyes in France.

The marriage was politically important. Bedford was the brother of Henry V and had become Regent of France for his young nephew Henry VI. England relied on its alliance with Burgundy to maintain its position in France.

Anne’s marriage helped to strengthen the relationship between her husband and her brother Philip the Good. Anne and Bedford had no children together.

After Joan of Arc was captured and moved into English custody, Anne was in Rouen during Joan’s trial. Anne, or women acting on her behalf, reportedly examined Joan to confirm her claim that she was a virgin.

Sadly, Anne’s life was short. She died in Paris on the 13th of November 1432, aged just 28.

Her death also had political consequences. Bedford married Jacquetta of Luxembourg the following year, and his relationship with Anne’s brother Philip gradually deteriorated.

In 1435, Burgundy abandoned its alliance with England and made peace with Charles VII of France.

Aristides de Sousa Mendes: The Portuguese Diplomat Who Defied Orders to Help Thousands of People Escape

Aristides de Sousa Mendes: The Portuguese Diplomat Who Defied Orders to Help Thousands of People Escape

Today I want to find out a little bit about Aristides de Sousa Mendes. He was a Portuguese diplomat whose decision to defy his own government helped thousands of refugees to escape from France during the Second World War.

Aristides was born on the 19th of July 1885 in Cabanas de Viriato in Portugal. He had a twin brother named César.

The brothers studied law at the University of Coimbra, and Aristides graduated in 1907. That following year, he married Maria Angelina Coelho, and they would eventually have a large family.

Aristides entered the Portuguese diplomatic service and spent much of his career working abroad. His postings included British Guiana, Zanzibar, Brazil, the United States, Spain and Belgium.

In 1938, he was appointed Portuguese Consul-General in Bordeaux in south-western France.

During the Second World War Portugal remained neutral, but it offered a possible escape route for refugees trying to leave Europe. If people could cross Spain and reach Portugal, many hoped that they could then travel to safer countries.

However, the Portuguese government under António de Oliveira Salazar had introduced restrictions that controlled which refugees could get visas.

In November 1939, a government instruction known as Circular 14 placed particular restrictions on several groups and required many visa applications to receive prior approval from Lisbon.

Sousa Mendes began to struggle with these rules.

He began to issue visas in cases where official permission had not been granted, and he was warned by the Portuguese authorities about it.

Then, in May and June 1940, the situation became much more desperate.

German forces were advancing through France, Paris fell and enormous numbers of refugees were travelling south, hoping to escape before it was too late.

Bordeaux became crowded with frightened people searching for a way out.

Among those Sousa Mendes encountered was Rabbi Chaim Kruger, who had escaped from Belgium with his family. Sousa Mendes offered to help them, but Kruger reportedly encouraged him to consider the many other refugees who were also desperately seeking visas.

Sousa Mendes faced an extraordinary moral decision.

In June 1940, he decided that he could no longer follow the instructions he had been given that stopped him from helping people whose lives were in danger.

He began issuing visas on a huge scale without discriminating according to nationality or religion.

His family, members of his staff and others helped him process the growing number of applications.

Sousa Mendes also travelled to the Portuguese consulate in Bayonne, where he continued helping refugees. Even after Portuguese officials attempted to stop him, he carried on issuing documents and assisting people trying to cross into Spain and eventually Portugal.

Exactly how many people received visas because of Sousa Mendes is still debated by historians. Claims that he personally saved 30,000 people have been questioned, but surviving records confirm that thousands of visas were issued, while other documents from the chaotic weeks of June 1940 have not survived.

Whatever the exact number was, his actions allowed thousands of people to escape from occupied France.

There were serious consequences.

Sousa Mendes was recalled to Portugal and was subjected to disciplinary proceedings for disobeying government orders.

In October 1940, Salazar punished him and that effectively brought his diplomatic career to an end.

His financial circumstances gradually became extremely difficult, and Sousa Mendes spent his later years trying to clear his name.

His wife Angelina died in 1948, and Aristides died in Lisbon on the 3rd of April 1954 at the age of 68. Sadly he did not live to see his reputation restored.

Recognition finally came after his death.

In 1966, Yad Vashem recognised Aristides de Sousa Mendes as Righteous Among the Nations for helping Jewish people escape persecution.

Following the end of Portugal's dictatorship, efforts were made to restore his reputation. In 1988, the Portuguese parliament formally rehabilitated him and restored him to the diplomatic service posthumously.

Faced with thousands of frightened people, he decided that following orders wasn’t as important as helping people who were in danger.

Cuthbert Tunstall: The Tudor Bishop Who Survived Four Very Different Monarchs

Cuthbert Tunstall: The Tudor Bishop Who Survived Four Very Different Monarchs

I found out the other day about Reginald Pole, and I wanted to find out a little more about some of the people connected to him. So today I want to talk about Cuthbert Tunstall, an English bishop, scholar and royal adviser whose remarkable career stretched across the reigns of Henry VIII, Edward VI, Mary I and Elizabeth I.

Cuthbert was born in around 1474 at Hackforth in Yorkshire. He was the illegitimate son of Sir Thomas Tunstall and he received an impressive education. He studied at Oxford and Cambridge before continuing his studies at the University of Padua in Italy.

Tunstall became very accomplished, he studied law, mathematics, Greek and Hebrew. He moved with some of the greatest humanist thinkers of the time and became friends with Thomas More and Erasmus.

His knowledge and experience soon got him a place working in royal service.

During the reign of Henry VIII, Tunstall was employed on several diplomatic missions and became Master of the Rolls in 1516. In 1522, he was appointed Bishop of London, and the following year he became Lord Keeper of the Privy Seal.

He also published a book on mathematics in 1522, believed to have been the first printed book produced in England devoted entirely to the subject.

However, religion would increasingly dominate his career.

Tunstall opposed the spread of Protestant ideas and he rejected William Tyndale’s request for support in translating the Bible into English. In 1526, copies of Tyndale’s English New Testament were publicly burned in London under Tunstall’s authority.

In 1530, Cuthbert became Bishop of Durham, succeeding Cardinal Thomas Wolsey.

Tunstall and Pole knew one another and corresponded, but they reacted very differently to Henry VIII’s break with Rome. Pole became one of Henry’s biggest critics and he completely rejected the king’s claim to supremacy over the English Church.

Tunstall was also uncomfortable with many of Henry’s religious changes. He had supported Catherine of Aragon during the dispute over Henry’s marriage, but rather than openly defying the king, he eventually accepted Henry as Supreme Head of the Church of England.

His ability to compromise helped him survive where others did not.

That changed during the reign of Edward VI. As England moved further towards Protestantism, Tunstall opposed some of the new religious reforms. In 1551 he was confined in London, then imprisoned in the Tower and was deprived of the bishopric of Durham in 1552.

Like many others his fortunes changed again when the Catholic Mary I became queen.

Tunstall was released and eventually restored as Bishop of Durham. Reginald Pole also returned to England during Mary’s reign, becoming papal legate and later the Catholic Archbishop of Canterbury as England was reconciled with Rome.

Despite his Catholic beliefs, Tunstall appears to take a more moderate approach towards Protestants within his diocese.

When Elizabeth I succeeded Mary in 1558, however, Tunstall refused to recognise the new royal supremacy over the Church.

He was deprived of his bishopric again in September 1559 and he was placed under house arrest at Lambeth Palace.

Cuthbert Tunstall died there on the 18th of November 1559 at the age of around 85.

His life is particularly fascinating because he lived through almost the entire upheaval of the English Reformation. He tried repeatedly to balance his Catholic beliefs with loyalty to the Crown, but by the beginning of Elizabeth I’s reign, he had finally reached a point where he was no longer prepared to compromise.

The lives of Cuthbert Tunstall and Reginald Pole show just how difficult it could be to navigate the religious upheaval of Tudor England. Each of them made very different decisions, but they both remained important figures throughout a period when England’s religion was changing dramatically.

Jan Żabiński and his wife Antonina Żabińska: The Couple Who Hid Jewish People Inside the Warsaw Zoo

Jan Żabiński and his wife Antonina Żabińska: The Couple Who Hid Jewish People Inside the Warsaw Zoo

Today I want to find out a little bit about Jan Żabiński and Antonina Żabińska. They were a Polish couple who used their home and the grounds of the Warsaw Zoo to help Jewish people escape persecution during the Second World War.

Jan Żabiński was born on the 8th of April 1897 in Warsaw. He had a love of animals and became a zoologist and scientist. During the years between the two world wars, Jan helped to establish the Warsaw Zoo and became its director in 1929.

Antonina Erdman was born on the 18th of July 1908. She also had an interest in animals and became a writer. She produced stories and books inspired by the natural world. She married Jan, and they lived with their family in a villa inside the grounds of Warsaw Zoo.

Their lives changed massively when Germany invaded Poland in September 1939.

Warsaw was heavily bombed and the zoo was badly damaged. Many animals were sadly killed and others were removed from the zoo, leaving the zoo almost entirely empty.

During the German occupation, Jan was appointed as superintendent of Warsaw’s public parks. His work allowed him to enter the Warsaw Ghetto, where hundreds of thousands of Jewish people were being forced to live in terrible conditions.

Jan used these visits as an opportunity to make contact with Jewish friends and acquaintances. He helped people escape from the ghetto and worked with Antonina to provide them with temporary places to hide.

Some were sheltered inside the Żabiński family villa and others were hidden in empty animal enclosures and buildings around the zoo.

The danger was huge. German soldiers sometimes entered the zoo grounds, meaning those that were hiding there could have been discovered at any moment.

Antonina played an important role in keeping everyone safe. She provided them with food and developed ways of warning them when danger was approaching. Their young son Ryszard also helped the people sheltering with the family.

The zoo often acted as a temporary stopping point. Once it became possible, many of those that were hiding there were moved to other places where they could continue to live in secret.

Jan was also involved with the Polish underground resistance, the Home Army. In 1944, he fought during the Warsaw Uprising. He was wounded and later captured and sent to a prisoner-of-war camp in Germany.

Antonina stayed in Warsaw and continued to care for the people who still depended upon the family for help.

The exact number of people helped by the Żabińskis is difficult to work out, but hundreds of Jewish people are believed to have passed through the zoo or received assistance from them during the occupation.

After the war, Jan returned to his work at Warsaw Zoo, while Antonina continued writing. In 1968, she published a memoir describing life at the zoo during the occupation.

In 1965, Yad Vashem recognised Antonina and Jan Żabiński as Righteous Among the Nations for risking their own safety to help Jewish people during the Holocaust.

Antonina died on the 19th of March 1971, and Jan died on the 26th of July 1974.

Their story later became widely known through the book and film The Zookeeper’s Wife, but behind that title was a real family who turned their home and their zoo into places of refuge.

Ellen Terry: The Victorian Actress Who Became Britain’s Leading Shakespearean Star

Ellen Terry: The Victorian Actress Who Became Britain’s Leading Shakespearean Star

Today I want to find out a little about Ellen Terry, one of the most celebrated actresses of the Victorian era. Her remarkable career lasted for almost seventy years, taking her from the London stage as a child performer to becoming one of Britain’s best-known Shakespearean actresses.

Alice Ellen Terry was born on the 27th of February 1847 in Coventry, Warwickshire. Acting was very much a family profession. Her parents, Benjamin and Sarah Terry, were both performers, and several of Ellen’s brothers and sisters would also go on to work in the theatre.

Ellen was introduced to the stage incredibly young. At just nine years old, she appeared as Mamillius in Shakespeare’s The Winter’s Tale at the Princess’s Theatre in London. She went on to play other Shakespearean roles during her childhood, including Puck in A Midsummer Night’s Dream and Prince Arthur in King John.

By her teenage years, Ellen was already an experienced performer, appearing in theatres around Britain as well as in London.

Her personal life, however, became complicated at an early age.

As a teenager, Ellen became acquainted with the respected artist George Frederic Watts, who was around thirty years older than her. Watts painted several portraits of the young actress, and the pair married in February 1864, just days before Ellen’s seventeenth birthday.

The marriage was really unhappy and they separated within a year.

Ellen eventually returned to acting, but in 1868 she left the stage again after beginning a relationship with architect and designer Edward William Godwin. As Ellen was still legally married to Watts, their decision to live together caused a huge scandal in Victorian society.

Ellen and Godwin had two children, Edith and Edward, but their relationship eventually came to an end. By 1874, Ellen had returned to the theatre once again.

Her comeback was extremely successful.

She received particular praise for her performance as Portia in Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice. Her reputation continued to grow, and in 1878 she began the professional partnership that would define much of her career.

Actor and theatre manager Henry Irving invited Ellen to become his leading lady at London’s Lyceum Theatre.

Irving and Terry became one of the most famous theatrical partnerships of the Victorian period.

Ellen appeared opposite Irving in numerous productions and became particularly associated with Shakespeare. Her roles included Ophelia in Hamlet, Desdemona in Othello, Beatrice in Much Ado About Nothing, Lady Macbeth in Macbeth and Katherine of Aragon in Henry VIII.

Her portrayal of Portia remained one of her best-known performances.

Ellen and Irving also toured extensively, including several highly successful visits to North America. For more than twenty years, she was widely regarded as one of Britain's leading Shakespearean actresses.

One of the most memorable images of Ellen came from her appearance as Lady Macbeth in 1888. Her green costume was decorated with thousands of shimmering beetle-wing cases and was later immortalised in a famous portrait by artist John Singer Sargent.

After leaving the Lyceum, Ellen continued performing, although an attempt to manage London’s Imperial Theatre in 1903 was unsuccessful.

She later went on lecture tours in Britain, America and other places, speaking about Shakespeare’s female characters and sharing her theatrical experience.

Ellen also embraced the relatively new format of cinema. Beginning in 1916, she appeared in several silent films while continuing to perform and lecture.

Her contribution to British theatre eventually received official recognition. In 1925, King George V appointed her Dame Grand Cross of the Order of the British Empire, making her one of the earliest actresses to receive such an honour for her professional career.

Ellen Terry died on the 21st of July 1928 at her home, Smallhythe Place in Kent, at the age of eighty-one.

 

Her career helped to raise the status of professional actresses, and her performances, photographs, portraits and surviving recordings continue to preserve her story.

 

Chiune Sugihara: The Japanese Diplomat Who Defied Orders to Help Thousands of People to Escape

What would you do if families were stood outside your office knowing that your signature could mean the difference between their escape and almost certain persecution?

Today I want to find out a bit about Chiune Sugihara. He was a Japanese diplomat who risked his career during the Second World War by issuing transit visas that helped thousands of Jewish refugees escape from Europe.

Chiune was born on the 1st of January 1900 in Gifu Prefecture in Japan. He studied at Waseda University before joining the Japanese Foreign Ministry, where his ability to speak Russian helped him develop a career as a specialist in Eastern European affairs.

By 1939, Chiune was serving as vice-consul at the Japanese consulate in Kaunas, Lithuania.

The following year, the situation became increasingly desperate. Lithuania was occupied by the Soviet Union, while Jewish refugees who had already fled persecution in Poland and elsewhere found themselves searching for another way to escape.

Hundreds of people began gathering outside the Japanese consulate hoping to obtain transit visas allowing them to travel across the Soviet Union, through Japan and eventually further.

There was a problem.

Japanese regulations required travellers to meet strict conditions before a transit visa could be issued. Many of the refugees standing outside Chiune's consulate simply could not meet them.

Chiune repeatedly contacted his superiors asking for permission to help. His requests were refused.

He then made an extraordinary decision.

Beginning in July 1940, Chiune started issuing visas anyway.

For weeks, he reportedly worked for hours each day writing and signing documents as quickly as he could. His wife, Yukiko, supported his decision despite understanding the possible consequences for their family.

The exact number of people ultimately saved through Chiune's actions remains debated. More than 2,000 visas were issued directly by him, but because some covered entire families, thousands of people were able to use them in their attempts to escape. Estimates of those helped vary considerably.

Many travelled across the Soviet Union on the Trans-Siberian Railway before reaching Vladivostok and continuing by ship towards Japan.

Eventually, Chiune was ordered to leave Lithuania as the consulate closed. Accounts from witnesses later claimed that he continued preparing visas almost until the time of his departure.

After the war, Chiune returned to Japan. In 1947, he left the Foreign Ministry and spent much of his later life living quietly, with relatively few people in Japan knowing what he had done.

Decades later, some of the people who had escaped using his visas began searching for the diplomat who had helped them.

In 1984, Yad Vashem recognised Chiune Sugihara as Righteous Among the Nations for his actions during the Holocaust.

He died on the 31st of July 1986, at the age of eighty-six.

Chiune Sugihara had been faced with a choice between following instructions and helping frightened people standing directly in front of him.

He chose to help.

Could you have risked your career and your family's future to make the same decision?

Bonne of Artois: The Young Duchess Who Married Philip the Good and Died Within a Year

Bonne of Artois: The Young Duchess Who Married Philip the Good and Died Within a Year

We recently learned about Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy, but what about the woman who became his second wife and Duchess of Burgundy for less than a year?

Today I want to find out a little about Bonne of Artois.

Bonne was born in 1396, she was the daughter of Philip of Artois, Count of Eu, and Marie of Berry. Through her mother, she was also the granddaughter of John, Duke of Berry, who was a son of King John II of France and an influential member of the French royal family, giving her important connections within the French nobility.

In 1413, Bonne married Philip II, Count of Nevers. Their marriage was short-lived. Just two years later, Philip was killed fighting against the English at the Battle of Agincourt in 1415. The Battle of Agincourt was a major English victory over the French during the Hundred Years’ War.

Bonne was left a widow while she was probably eighteen or nineteen, with two young sons, Charles and John. Her eldest son inherited the County of Nevers, which was a medieval territory in central France, centred on the town of Nevers. Bonne acted as regent while he was still a child.

Nearly a decade later, on the 30th of November 1424, Bonne married Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy. He was the nephew of her first husband.

However, their marriage unfortunately didn’t last a year. Bonne sadly died in Dijon on the 15th of September 1425, she was only around twenty-nine years old.

Frank Foley: The British Intelligence Officer Who Helped Thousands to Escape Persecution.

Frank Foley: The British Intelligence Officer Who Helped Thousands to Escape Persecution.

Could you risk your career, your freedom and possibly your life to help complete strangers escape persecution?

Today I want to find out a little about Frank Foley, a British intelligence officer who used his position in Berlin to help thousands of Jewish people escape Germany before the outbreak of the Second World War.

Francis Edward Foley was born on the 24th of November 1884 in Highbridge, Somerset. He was one of several sons born to railway worker Andrew Foley and his wife Isabella.

Frank considered becoming a Catholic priest and studied in France, but he decided that the religious life was not for him. His time abroad helped him to become fluent in French and German, skills that would later prove extremely valuable.

During the First World War, Frank served in the British Army and was mentioned in despatches. His ability with languages eventually led him into intelligence work.

After the war, he was sent to Berlin as Britain’s Passport Control Officer. This apparently ordinary diplomatic position also proved to be useful cover for his work with the Secret Intelligence Service, known as MI6.

As persecution of Jewish people in Germany intensified during the 1930s, desperate families began searching for ways to leave the country.

Frank was responsible for examining visa applications.

He could have simply followed every regulation placed in front of him. Instead, he repeatedly stretched and bent the rules to help people escape.

Working with others including Jewish businessman Wilfrid Israel and Hubert Pollack, Frank helped people to obtain the documents they needed to leave Germany. He reportedly visited concentration camps, helped people who were struggling to meet immigration requirements and even sheltered Jewish refugees inside his own home.

What made his actions particularly dangerous was that Frank did not have diplomatic immunity. If the German authorities had discovered the full extent of what he was doing, he could have been arrested.

When the Second World War began, Frank continued working in British intelligence. He later served in Norway during the German invasion and was involved in questioning Rudolf Hess after Hess flew to Scotland in 1941.

After the war, Frank returned to Germany and became involved in efforts to locate suspected war criminals.

He retired in 1949 and died in Stourbridge on the 8th of May 1958 at the age of 73.

Much of the wider public knew little about his wartime activities during his lifetime.

Frank was eventually recognised by Yad Vashem as Righteous Among the Nations in 1999 and was named a British Hero of the Holocaust in 2010.

He had spent years working behind the scenes, but for thousands of people trying to escape persecution, the decisions he made could mean the difference between being trapped and finding safety.

Had you heard of Frank Foley and the risks he took to help Jewish families escape Germany?