Poland was one of the worst-affected countries during the Second World War. Initially occupied by both the USSR and Germany, it came under total German domination in 1941 until the Soviets drove them out. Before this took place, Poland’s Jewish, Roma, and Sinti populations were almost annihilated along with much of Poland’s intelligentsia. How and why this unfolded has divided historians and played a major role in Poland’s memory policy today.

Poland’s Jews and Romani Before 1939

Ever since their first arrival in the 10th century, there had been large numbers of Jewish people in Poland. They received legal protections by the Kingdom of Poland and the subsequent Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. When Poland was partitioned between Russia, Prussia, and Austria, the Jewish people living there remained in the hope of keeping their livelihoods. Independence in 1918 and the creation of the Polish Second  Republic gave Poland one of the largest Jewish populations in the world. Many were eager to embrace life in the new state, where they initially had equal rights as Polish Christians, something they had lacked during the Russian Empire years.

However, antisemitism was deeply ingrained in certain parts of Polish society, and the unwillingness of some Jewish communities to integrate exacerbated societal tensions. Antisemitic sentiment was fueled by right wing Nationalist politicians who accused the Jewish people of being secret communists. Even though many Jewish communities in Poland started to integrate by the 1930s, there was still a major gulf with the rest of Polish society. Some 3.3 million Jews lived in Poland and from 1935 onwards, the government hoped to convince as many of them as possible to leave.

The Roma community faced similar challenges. Their poor and mobile living conditions appalled ethnic Poles, who did not believe that they could exist in the country. In 1930, Michał Kwiek proclaimed he was “the king of all Gypsies,” and in 1937, Janusz Kwiek was crowned “the king of [the] Gypsies” by priests of the Orthodox Church. This angered many Roma, who considered these men to be puppets of the regime in Warsaw. The size of the Roma community was estimated at somewhere between 30,000 to 50,000 people; though the lack of documentation meant that it is impossible to ascertain exactly how many Roma lived there. They lacked representation in the Sejm and Senate.

Poland was ruled by a hybrid regime from 1926-1939 in which the military played a major role in domestic politics. The Sanation regime considered minority groups to be a threat to Poland’s internal stability and used the power of the state to crack down on any nationalist movements. Nonetheless, most of Poland’s population remained loyal to the government when Germany and the USSR invaded in 1939.

The Invasion in 1939 and the Creation of the Ghettos

On September 1, 1939, Germany invaded Poland seeking to occupy the country for German settlers. The Polish armed forces fought hard to resist the invasion but were overwhelmed by German Blitzkrieg tactics. Among the one million men who made up the Polish armed forces were some 100,000 Jews and thousands of Roma. The Soviet invasion of Eastern Poland took place 17 days later. Germany’s war plans were ruthless, involving the massacre of Polish civilians and the destruction of its cities by air bombardment.

While Germany’s plan of extermination was not an official policy yet, its soldiers undertook vicious acts of violence against the Roma and Jewish populations. Years of propaganda had convinced Germans that anyone not deemed part of the “Aryan” race was only fit for subjugation or death. In several villages with large Jewish populations, German forces massacred large numbers of people. Part of their plan for conquest entailed the removal of ethnic Poles and Jews to make way for German settlers. This ethnic cleansing created a territory known as the Wartegau.

Starting in 1939, Reinhard Heydrich, the chief of the German Gestapo, ordered Jewish communities to be concentrated in segregated zones in the major cities. Specially selected leaders were picked to take leadership of these communities. The first ghetto was created in Piotrków in October. The main ghettos in Warsaw, Białystok, and other bigger cities were constructed in 1940. On paper, they were created to “prevent the spread of disease.” In reality, they were set up because Germany was unsure what to do with the Jewish population.

Life in the ghettos was horrendous. The Jewish Councils created by Germany to lead them were unable to provide enough supplies to help the people within. The Polish government-in-exile informed the world about conditions in the ghettos via a courier named Jan Karski. The largest one in Warsaw, created in 1940, survived mainly due to the smuggling of goods and assistance from some Poles in the rest of the city. After Germany abandoned its plan to deport all the Jews to Madagascar, the question of what to do with people in the ghettos divided Nazi leaders.

The Roma were also put into the ghettos. Many German soldiers saw these people as nothing more than animals and thought that they also needed to be segregated from the rest of society. Many Roma from Germany and Austria were forced to go to occupied Poland, specifically a territory known as the General Government region near Warsaw. They too suffered from malnutrition, abuse, and ostracism. It is unknown how many were deported to the ghettos before their destruction.

The Creation of the Camps and the Wannsee Conference

Long before the Axis conquest of Europe, Germany had been setting up concentration camps on German soil for political opponents, disabled people, Jews, Roma, and people with mixed-race heritage. The camps were inspired by colonial practices in German-occupied Namibia at the start of the 20th century. Once Germany conquered Poland, it began to establish camps in occupied territory. This expanded into territories seized from the Soviet Union after Operation Barbarossa in 1941.

Around 460 camps and subcamps were constructed throughout Poland, often in place of prior Polish government infrastructure. For instance, the notorious camp at Auschwitz was constructed on the site of a former Polish cavalry barracks in the town of Oświęcim. They were administered by the Schutzstaffel or SS, an elite unit reporting directly to Adolf Hitler. Many camps initially housed Polish POWs and members of the Polish intelligentsia. Jews started to get sent there after the ghettos became too crowded. Camps expanded when more people arrived, especially Soviet POWs who were also considered subhuman by the German authorities. Camps including Stutthof, Majdanek, Auschwitz, Treblinka, and others transformed from detention centers to extermination sites.

By 1942, Germany was at the pinnacle of its power. It had conquered most of Europe alongside its Axis allies and was now ruling over hundreds of millions of people. Millions of Jews and Roma were under German rule and Berlin did not understand what to do with them. At the Berlin suburb of Wannsee, several German officers including senior members of the Wehrmacht, SS, and Gestapo created a plan to enslave or exterminate Jews, Roma, LGBT, and anyone else deemed subhuman by the Third Reich. While no explicit decision was taken for mass executions, the Conference has subsequently been regarded as the start of what was euphemistically called “the Final Solution to the Jewish problem.” Instead of the mass shootings following the invasion of Poland and Operation Barbarossa, this new stage of state-sponsored extermination involved other forms of killing, such as gas chambers and medical experimentation.

The Extermination of the Jews and Roma and the Destruction of the Ghettos

Once Germany began to devise the plan to exterminate the Jews and Roma, its forces moved quickly. The ghettos were cordoned off by the Blue Police, a Polish collaborator force, and SS or Wehrmacht units while SS and SD (the SS intelligence wing) personnel entered the ghetto and rounded up as many people as possible. The Jewish police in the ghettos helped with the roundups, even though the Germans murdered them later on. Heinrich Himmler, the chief of the SS, was the main commander responsible for these actions. Some of the people in the ghetto were allowed to remain behind to clean up the items left behind by the deportees.

Once the deportees were sent to the camps, they were stripped of their belongings and given prisoner uniforms if required for labor. Otherwise, they were sent straight to the gas chambers. The majority of victims in the death camps were Jews and Roma, but other people marked for destruction were also killed there too, such as members of the Polish intelligentsia, some Soviet POWs, disabled people, LGBT people, and captured resistance fighters from across Europe. Those that escaped the camps or ghettos were hunted down by the Germans and local collaborators in anti-partisan sweeps in the countryside. Operation Reinhard, the German extermination plan, was one of the fastest periods of mass killing in human history. It lasted from 1942-1945, but by 1944 most of the Jews and Roma that were deported were dead.

Initially, there was little resistance from within the ghettos because many of the people there did not know what would happen to them once they arrived at the camps. Additionally, the Jewish Councils avoided calling for resistance because they feared that the Germans would massacre everyone in the ghettos immediately. Once German intentions became clear, resistance was more common.

In most major cities and towns, local Jews and Roma who had been in the Polish army or prewar paramilitary organizations organized to fight. They received some material assistance from the Polish Home Army and Left Army, two of the main Polish underground movements. Despite heavy resistance, especially in cities such as Warsaw, the Germans succeeded in liquidating the ghettos and leaving only a few survivors. This was the most intense period of killing during the Holocaust.

Resistance and Collaboration

Germany’s brutal occupation policies after the invasion quickly inspired resistance. Veterans of the military and civil society banded together to form resistance networks. The largest underground force in Poland was the Polish Home Army. Its priority was fighting the Germans; saving the Jews was secondary. Nonetheless, several commanders and members of the Underground risked their lives to save Jews and Roma from extermination. It is estimated that tens of thousands of Poles helped Jews and Roma escape or hide. The debate over whether the Polish Underground helped or hindered Jewish/Roma rescue efforts has continued up to the present day.

Jewish partisan groups sometimes sought to work with the Home Army and many Polish Jews joined the ranks, especially if they had served in the Polish Army before the war. When the ZOB (the main Jewish resistance group in the Warsaw Ghetto) planned its uprising, it asked for and received weapons from the Home Army’s Warsaw garrison. Subsequently, many Jews also participated in the Home Army’s general uprising in 1944 known as Operation Tempest. At the same time, elements of the Home Army, especially the right-wing NSZ, were extremely antisemitic and refused to help them. There were even cases of Home Army members randomly killing Jewish and Roma people. This continued until the war’s end, meaning that many Jews in hiding refused to trust the Polish Home Army unless they were absolutely confident that they could survive.

Resistance within the camps increased as it became clear what Germany’s plans were. In 1943, inmates at Treblinka and Sobibor attacked their guards with smuggled weapons, an act of defiance that was repeated at other camps. In 1944, Roma inmates at Auschwitz locked themselves in the barracks they were held in when they learned that they were going to die. Sonderkommandos, collaborators ordered to help the Germans in the camps, either helped or hindered the rebellions. Sometimes, they helped smuggle weapons in; on other occasions they assisted the Germans in crushing these rebellions. Resistance movements were assisted by elements of the Polish Home Army. For instance, Polish Army Captain Witold Pilecki documented Germany’s actions at Auschwitz and helped organize a resistance movement inside the camp before he escaped.

Notwithstanding the willingness of many Poles to help their Jewish and Roma brethren, there were also many Polish collaborators. A collaborator police force known as the Blue Police assisted the Germans with their roundups and crushing of resistance attempts to revolt. Some locals were willing to help the Germans if they received a financial benefit for doing so. These people were known as Szmalcowniks and they proved to be a real problem for anyone the Germans wanted to hunt down. Many were ethnic Germans who lived in Poland before the war. Jewish and Roma people were sometimes recruited as collaborators too. The Jewish police helped maintain order in the ghettos before they too were killed.

The End of the War and the Results of Germany’s Policies

By 1945, the ghettos had been destroyed and the camps were killing the remaining people still inside. The Home Army’s uprising had failed and there was a real chance that the remaining Jews and Roma still in Poland could be hunted down and killed. However, salvation came from the advancing Soviet Army. The Soviets captured half of prewar Polish territory in Operation Bagration, and the subsequent winter offensive from the Vistula to the Oder expelled the Germans from Poland. Notwithstanding Stalin’s own antisemitic attitude, the Soviets proved to be liberators of the people still in the camps or in hiding. Their forces managed to provide medical care for the inmates at the camps they found and stopped the gas chambers from operating.

Occupied Poland, specifically the General Government district, was the center of the Holocaust. Jewish and Roma people from all over Europe were sent there in addition to the populations living in prewar Poland. People in Poland had been used to hardship; they had suffered through the repeated partitions of their homeland, the chaos of WWI and the Polish-Soviet War, and political turmoil during the years of the Second Republic. Nothing, however, prepared Polish Jews and Roma for what happened between 1939 and 1945. Even worse, the aftermath of the war saw a civil war between the Polish underground and the new communist government. Tens of thousands more died, many of them Jews and Roma.

While some members of the Jewish and Roma communities in Poland survived the war, life was not the same after the war. The Kielce Pogrom and the 1968 anti-Zionist purge caused most of the remaining Jews to leave Poland, and fewer than 20,000 Jews live in Poland today. Nearly three million Polish Jews died in WWII, either in combat or by extermination. The Polish Roma death toll is estimated in the tens of thousands; gauging the actual numbers is very difficult. Their postwar experiences were terrible too: the Soviets and Polish communists ordered them to be relocated multiple times and their way of life was attacked by the new government. Only with the end of the Cold War did people in Poland truly reckon with the enormity of the Holocaust in their country.

Contrary to modern impressions, Paris was once a congested labyrinth of narrow streets, until the massive modernization of the 19th century, commissioned by Emperor Napoleon III, was carried out by Georges-Eugène Haussmann (often referred to as Baron Haussmann). 

During the Middle Ages, the majority of what is now known as Paris consisted mainly of constricted lanes that averaged about 13 feet wide. So, what were some of the grim realities of the city before this massive modernization project?

What Made the Streets and Prisons of Medieval Paris So Dangerous?

While many of Paris’s narrow streets originated in the Roman and Merovingian eras, the effort to improve them was significantly intensified during the reign of King Philip II (1180–1223), who ordered the main thoroughfares to be paved around 1186. Side streets, however, remained unpaved and were filled with filth. This continued until the mid-14th century, when Paris had grown into a city of over 200,000 residents and expanded beyond the Wall of Philip Augustus. 

This defensive fortification was built between 1190 and 1215 to protect the city from Anglo-Norman forces and other external marauders. At the time, buildings in the city projected outward toward each other so significantly that neighbors could almost touch opposite buildings across the alleys. Because of this, there was barely any sunlight to illuminate the passages that typically harbored vermin, criminals, and feral dogs, and sometimes contributed to the spread of diseases.

The headquarters for royal justice at the Grand Châtelet was also poorly built. Originally constructed as a wooden fortress in 870 by Charles the Bald to defend the Grand-Pont against Viking incursions, it was reconstructed in stone on the Right Bank of the Seine in the 1130s by King Louis VI as an actual châtelet (small castle). By the late Middle Ages, the fortress served as the seat of the Provost of Paris, the city’s primary criminal court, as well as its most notorious prison. 

The Infamous Prison at the Grand Châtelet

While subterranean dungeons, torture chambers, and the morgue were relegated to the damp lower basements, the primary judicial halls and magisterial chambers were located on the upper levels of the building. Within the facility was La Fosse, an infamous dungeon built in the shape of an inverted cone that was accessible only from above via a ceiling hatch through which prisoners would be lowered.

Prisoners put there could neither stand upright nor sit down amid rising filth. The fortress also functioned as the capital’s Châtelet morgue, where victims found dead in the public way or whose identity remained unknown after death would have their remains displayed on large stone slabs so that passersby could recognize them. The fortress was entirely demolished between 1802 and 1810 and was remembered by nearly all who entered its gates as one of the most inhumane and sinister structures in Paris.

The Deadly Bubonic Plague in Paris

Microscopic pathogens also lurked within medieval streets. From the time the bubonic plague, a lethal bacterial infection transmitted by fleas and rodents, first arrived in 1348 until the epidemic’s peak around 1350, an estimated 50,000 Parisians succumbed to the Black Death. At the height of the epidemic, historical records describe residents dying so rapidly that bodies accumulated in the streets before being collected by carts, often at night. More than 300 skeletons were discovered in 2015 in layered rows within eight mass graves in a basement at the intersection of Boulevard de Sébastopol and Rue Réaumur that were confirmed to be the remains of the former Trinité Cemetery.

The Destruction of Medieval Paris and the Haussmann Renovation

Medieval streets were quite literally corridors of unrest. Narrow, winding lanes provided natural cover for barricades, and Parisians utilized this medieval topography for insurrection. Things changed when modern medicine identified contaminated water as the primary vector for the rapid transmission of cholera, an infection caused by poor sanitation that killed approximately 19,000 people in six months during the 1832 outbreak. 

To solve these issues, Emperor Napoleon III, who led France from 1848 to 1870, concluded that he could better manage civil unrest and contagion with wide boulevards illuminated by gas lamps. Baron Georges-Eugène Haussmann was directed to “aerate” and “beautify” Paris in 1853. In effect, Haussmann razed roughly 20,000 buildings and displaced thousands of working-class Parisians from ancestral neighborhoods by carving out 102 miles of avenues such as Boulevard de Sébastopol and Avenue de l’Opéra.

Segments of the ancient city survived Haussmann’s urban planning, but much was lost forever. A small vestige of Paris’ medieval street plan and several 16th-century half-timbered houses on Rue François-Miron can be found in the Marais district, along with the 15th-century landmark known as the Hôtel de Sens, a former palatial residence for archbishops.

The barber pole, with its red, white (and often blue) rotating lines, is a cheerful symbol of tradition, marking where people can go to get a smart haircut and a neat beard trim. This common practice, however, has a very dark history, characterized by pain and soaked in blood.

In the past, barbers didn’t just cut hair…

The Council of Tours and the Birth of Barber-Surgeons

In the early Middle Ages, the domain of learning was preserved almost exclusively in monasteries. So too was medical knowledge, and medicine was practiced by monks and nuns, although there were many lay practitioners not directly related to the church. 

Nevertheless, the ecclesiastics held a monopoly on written medical academia. Monasteries were regarded as places of health and healing, and monks attended to those seeking spiritual as well as physical cures to their ailments. Thus, monks and nuns gained a reputation for administering medical treatments. 

A drastic change came in 1163 with the Council of Tours, in which it became strictly forbidden for the clergy to practice surgery, as it involved the spilling of blood. As such, different sets of steady hands would have to perform it. As luck would have it, barbers had steady hands as well as a set of finely honed razors. And many were already skilled in the required elements of minor surgery. This is because barbers, hired by monasteries to maintain the monks’ tonsures (the stereotypical haircuts), also practiced bloodletting, pulled teeth, and prepared salves for the clergy. 

Barbers who took on guild apprenticeships and, later in the medieval period, courses in medical procedures became “barber-surgeons” who were permitted to perform minor surgeries, while a class of surgeons also evolved to focus on major surgery. In England, the two classes were merged in 1540 when the Fellowship of Surgeons joined with the Barbers’ Company to form the Company of Barbers and Surgeons. The rise in professionalism over the decades prompted the formation of the Company of Surgeons in 1745, and the two professions were separated.

What Surgical Procedures Did Medieval Barbers Perform?

Ideological beliefs and the steady march of scientific discovery have changed the medical profession over the centuries. For barber-surgeons of the medieval period, the dominant theory was that of humorism, which focused on the balance of phlegm, black bile, yellow bile, and blood. Maintaining a balance of these elements was believed to be necessary for health. 

Bloodletting was a common practice in this regard and involved the deliberate removal of blood or other bodily fluids from the patient, usually by making incisions or using leeches. This, the most common medical practice, had been practiced since antiquity, and remained a standard practice until the 19th century. Among their many other duties, barber-surgeons lanced abscesses, set bones, extracted teeth, and even performed trepanation (drilling holes in the skull). 

Until the late 18th century, barber-surgeons formed the bulk of medical personnel and practiced their trade in civilian hospitals as well as field hospitals on the battlefield, where they routinely tended to dire wounds, often involving amputation. The practice lingered in rural areas well into the 19th century.

Deconstructing the Anatomy of the Bloody Totem

Originally, barber-surgeons in London advertised their services to an illiterate public simply by putting a bowl of blood outside the shop. When this practice was banned in the early 14th century, barber-surgeons needed a new symbol.

The origin of the famous barber’s pole is thought to derive from the staff that patients gripped in order to make their veins stand out. Washed rags, stained red with blood, were wrapped around the pole and left outside to dry. With the wind, these rags twirled around the pole, creating the symbol that later became adopted as a tradition.

While the alternating red and white stripes are common in Europe, in the United States, a blue stripe was added, thought to represent the veins, but likely a patriotic addition to a mass-produced item.

While some barber poles are topped with a ball, it is suggested this is an evolution of a bowl which held leeches for bloodletting, while the original poles also had basins at the bottom, used for catching blood. 

In the mid to late 18th century, the professions of barbery and surgery were legally separated—France in 1743, England in 1745, and the rest of Europe in the following decades. The traditional symbol of barber-surgeons, however, remained with the barbers and they continued to advertise their services with poles painted red and white (and later, blue).

Today, these poles have spread across the whole world from Europe to America, Africa, and Asia. Many barber shops even dispense with the actual pole and simply paint a representation of it on the shop window or the wall.

On September 1, 1939, two days before France and Great Britain declared war on Nazi Germany, the British Government launched Operation Pied Piper. During its first four days, 1.5 million British citizens were evacuated, among them nearly 800,000 children. Operation Pied Piper aimed to relocate vulnerable members of society to areas where the risk of bombing attacks was low or nonexistent. Orchestrated by the British government, Operation Pied Piper represents the largest internal migration ever accomplished in British history.

Planning Operation Pied Piper

The threat of another international armed conflict was becoming increasingly apparent by the middle of the 1930s. In 1933, Adolf Hitler established a highly totalitarian regime in Nazi Germany, embarking on the remilitarization of the country. In Italy, the policies of fascist Benito Mussolini were growing more aggressive. By rejecting the Treaty of Versailles, both leaders criticized the post-World War I international order and pursued expansionist strategies centered around the Rome-Berlin Axis.

Japan invaded China’s province of Manchuria in September 1931 and pursued an aggressive, expansionist foreign policy throughout the Pacific and East Asia.

Global economic difficulties and the Great Depression of the 1930s further exacerbated political instability. In this context, some European nations began making preparations for a new global war.

Specifically, in 1938, Great Britain developed the Government Evacuation Scheme. The Ministry of Health was in charge of implementing it. According to the scheme, Great Britain was divided into three zones. The evacuation zones were expected to be bombed or attacked. London, Liverpool, and Birmingham were considered the key target areas of these zones. The neutral zones were categorized as safe. The reception zones, typically away from the evacuation zones, would host the evacuees.

British citizens residing in the evacuation zones were categorized into four social groups deemed non-essential for the war preparations:

1) school-age children;

2) elderly and disabled people;

3) pregnant women;

4) mothers with infants or preschool children (who would be evacuated together).

According to the scheme, British citizens falling in these categories were to be evacuated to safer areas, or “reception areas,” away from the dangers of aerial bombing and invasion.

This scheme became widely known as Operation Pied Piper in reference to the German folklore figure of Pied Piper of Hamelin, who, by using his magical flute, drove rats out of towns. When he didn’t receive the requested payment, he used the same method to drive the children out of the towns as well.

According to Operation Pied Piper, the evacuees were to be placed in private homes located in remote areas rather than camps. The hosts, or owners of these houses, were obliged to take in the evacuees in exchange for six to eight shillings a week as an allowance. If they refused, they would face fines.

The British government made the evacuation scheme public in the early summer of 1939.

At this point, the London County Council initiated the requisition of buses and trains to transport the evacuees. London’s mayor, Herbert Morrison, demanded that the evacuation process be launched in August, but the government, headed by Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain, refused. The prime minister anticipated that the plan would cause unnecessary panic and chaos in British society. However, the geopolitical and international security environment was rapidly changing.

Nazi Germany invaded Poland on September 1, 1939. The invasion of Poland triggered the agreement of mutual assistance, signed on August 25, 1939, between Poland and Britain, also known as the Anglo-Polish Military Alliance. The alliance represented a mutual response to the escalating tensions between Poland and Nazi Germany and implied British military support in case of military aggression against Poland.

Operation Pied Piper in Practice

On August 31, 1939, the British government announced via radio, newspapers, and telegrams that Operation Pied Piper would begin the next day.

The same day, various British media outlets reported the launch of Operation Pied Piper. “Evacuation Begins Tomorrow” were the words printed on the front page of the British newspaper Express and Echo. The headline was followed by the citation of the government’s announcement of the evacuation:

“It has been decided to start evacuation of the schoolchildren and other priority classes, as already arranged under the government’s scheme, to-morrow, Friday, September 1st. No one should conclude that this decision means war is now regarded as inevitable.”

On September 1, Nazi Germany invaded Poland. London’s Mayor, Morrisson, tried to persuade Chamberlain’s aide, Sir Horace Wilson, of the urgency of the evacuation. Wilson replied: “But we’re not at war yet, and we wouldn’t want to do anything to upset delicate negotiations, would we?”

In return, Morrison answered, “Look, ’Orace, go in there and tell Neville [Chamberlain] this from me: If I don’t get the order to evacuate the children from London this morning, I’m going to give it myself—and tell the papers why I’m doing it.”

The evacuation began that afternoon.

On the same day, London and other major cities witnessed a long line of children, led by their teachers or policemen, walking to the railway or bus stations to depart to the safer rural areas of the country. Each child was handed a small square cardboard box containing a gas mask. A name card was attached to each child’s coat.

“We marched to Peckham station behind our head teacher, carrying a banner with our school’s name on it. We thought it was a holiday, and I was wildly excited. The only thing we couldn’t work out was why the girls and women were crying,” recalls James Roffey, the founder of the Evacuees Reunion Association.

The British government set up assembly points in each evacuation zone and recruited thousands of volunteers: teachers, local officials, railway staff, and 17,000 members of the Women’s Voluntary Service (WVS). Reportedly, London alone had 1,589 assembly points.

To try and ease the emotional and traumatic experience of being separated from their parents, a special song was written for children in 1939 by Gaby Rogers and Harry Philips, titled Goodnight Children Everywhere. The BBC broadcasted the song every night:

Goodnight Children Everywhere

Sleepy little eyes in a sleepy little head,
Sleepy time is drawing near.
In a little while you’ll be tucked up in your bed,
Here’s a song for baby dear.
Goodnight children everywhere,
Your mom thinks of you tonight.
Lay your head upon your pillow.
Don’t be a kid or a weeping willow. 
Close your eyes and say a prayer.
And surely you can find a kiss to spare.
Though you are far away, she’s with you night and day.
Goodnight children everywhere.
Soon the moon will rise and caress you with its beams.
While the shadows softly creep.
With a happy smile, you will be wrapped up in your dreams.
Baby will be fast asleep. Goodnight, children everywhere.

Reportedly, within the first three days of the evacuation, 1.5 million civilians had been relocated to the “reception” zones of Great Britain, most of them being children, pregnant women, mothers with infants, teachers, caregivers, and disabled and elderly people.

Life in the Reception Zones

Even though some evacuees, especially children, were feeling excited at the prospect of exploring new surroundings, the long hours of travel and the challenges they faced when arriving at the reception areas faded their excitement.

In practice, many rural areas were overwhelmed by the influx of evacuees, struggling to find sufficient housing and resources. As a result, the reception areas were overflowing with tired, upset, and homesick children. Many groups of children were forced to relocate to another village.

Most of the host families were also reluctant to take in the evacuees. Many recall that the process of distributing children to their host families turned into a “cattle auction.” Children were lined up against the wall. When the host family members arrived, they announced their decision by pointing out to the child, declaring, “I’ll take that one”— words clinical psychologist Steve Davies said were “the first of many moments that caused upset and humiliation for the evacuees.”

The process also suffered gender bias. Girls were most likely to be selected first, as it was perceived that they were better behaved and could assist in household chores.  At the same time, most rural families selected boys to work on their farms.

While the selection process was stressful, some evacuees reported feeling happy and content with their host families. They formed friendships with them and acquired new skills in agriculture.

For the majority of the departed children, however, the relocation was associated with homesickness, fear, and confusion. Along with these feelings, many faced bullying, abuse, and mistreatment from the host family. For these children, World War II did not end in 1945, as the wounds of forced relocation would persist for the rest of their lives.

The Results of Operation Pied Piper

The British government endured strong criticism for the logistical challenges and the financial resources the implementation of Operation Pied Piper required.

The first mistake made was the miscalculation of the numbers of citizens to relocate. The government expected nearly 80% of the children to be evacuated, while only half were actually evacuated. The reason behind the miscalculation lies in the voluntary nature of the operation. Many families chose not to send their children and family members to the reception areas, despite the active propaganda campaign across the country.

The anticipated aerial bombing did not arrive as soon as the government thought. For this reason, the first months of World War II in Europe were described as “phony war.” It was a period characterized by minor armed confrontations despite the declaration of war.

The “phony war” persuaded many parents to bring their children back home, though against the advice of the government. As a result, four months after Operation Pied Piper’s launch, only about 40% of the evacuees actually remained in the reception areas.

When Nazi Germany invaded France in June 1940, the anticipated aerial bombings hit Great Britain’s major cities like London, Hull, Birmingham, Glasgow, Liverpool, and Manchester; However, a large-scale relocation did not happen. Instead, smaller evacuations were carried out until September 1944.

The British government officially ended Operation Pied Piper in 1946, though the return of the evacuees to their homes was officially approved in 1945.

Operation Pied Piper inspired many scholars in their scientific and literary endeavors. One of the best-known examples is the study executed by Anna Freud, the daughter of Sigmund Freud, the founder of psychoanalysis. In December 1941, she authorized a twelve-month study with the participation of the evacuees. The study concluded that the “separation from their parents is a worse shock for children than a bombing.” The research outlined that the separation from parents, even brief, might result in long-lasting trauma, depression, anxiety, and post-traumatic stress disorder.

Yet, without Operation Pied Piper, the death toll in World War II would undoubtedly have been much higher.

Few people realize how close the Allies came to losing World War I. The principal Allied Powers were Britain and France in the west and Russia in the east, forcing Germany and its allies to fight a war on two fronts. But in March 1918, just as American troops were entering the war in large numbers, Russia signed the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk with Germany and left the war. This freed up hundreds of thousands of German soldiers to join offensives on the Western Front. With this boost, Germany almost seized Paris and came close to winning the war. Why did Russia leave the war early, potentially allowing a German victory?

Setting the Stage: Russia Joins Triple Entente

Germany became a unified nation-state in 1871 and scored an unexpectedly rapid victory over France in the Franco-Prussian War. This alarmed the other European powers, who now saw the new Germany as a threat to their security (and imperialist goals). Beginning in the 1890s, Russia’s Tsar aligned Russia with France rather than Germany. Later, it also sought stronger relations with Britain, France’s ally against German expansion. In 1907, Britain and Russia signed agreements, paving the way for a three-way alliance between Britain, France, and Russia.

The goal was to surround Germany and its central European allies, Austria-Hungary and Italy, who had formed the Triple Alliance. With Britain and France situated to the west and Russia situated to the east, the Triple Entente effectively surrounded the Triple Alliance and could strike from either direction. The idea was that the threat of a two-front war would deter Germany and its allies from initiating hostilities against any member of the Triple Entente.

Setting the Stage: Russian Revolution of 1905

Russia was unstable. Despite its vast size, the nation was economically underdeveloped compared to its European counterparts. It was the first European country to be effectively defeated by an Asian country in 1905, and in the aftermath, the Russian Revolution of 1905 erupted. Citizens had lost faith in Tsar Nicholas II and his government and demanded economic and social reforms.

The revolution was met with force by the government and was put down. However, by the end of 1905, the Tsar agreed to some reforms, including the creation of a constitutional monarchy. A parliament was established by Nicholas II’s October Manifesto, providing a small degree of democracy. Unfortunately, the economic situation in Russia did not improve much for most citizens, and an undercurrent of anger against the Tsar remained.

1914-17: World War I Devastates Russia

World War I erupted in the summer of 1914 after the assassination of Austro-Hungarian Archduke Franz Ferdinand in Sarajevo, Bosnia. Austria-Hungary, allied with Germany, demanded concessions from Serbia, which controlled Bosnia. Serbia was allied with Russia. When Serbia did not meet Austria-Hungary’s demands, there was a series of war declarations, quickly dragging in all European powers. As a member of the Triple Entente, Russia obligingly mobilized against the Triple Alliance.

While many initially thought the war would be a quick “shoving match” that would re-establish a pecking order, the conflict rapidly devolved into the most brutal and bloody war ever seen. Russia did not perform well in the war and suffered tremendous casualties. Although it mobilized faster than Germany had expected, Russia’s equipment and tactics were less modernized. After the first year of fighting, the Eastern Front bogged down into a terrible stalemate. The Russian economy suffered from the loss of manpower and farmland in the west, swelling citizen unrest.

Russia’s Provisional Government Fails to Make War Gains

By February 1917, many Russians were fed up with Nicholas II’s poor wartime leadership. The February Revolution overthrew the Romanov dynasty and Nicholas II’s government, as massive strikes effectively halted all industry in major cities. Unlike in 1905, soldiers refused to use force against their fellow Russians, and many joined the uprising. On March 2, 1917, Tsar Nicholas II abdicated his throne and was eventually replaced by a provisional government.

The Provisional Government, led by Alexander Kerensky, was created by the Duma (Russia’s parliament) and was forced to share power with a local socialist movement, the Petrograd Soviet. As a result of this power-sharing, little was accomplished under the Provisional Government. Controversially, the government continued the war, and Russia’s situation on the Eastern Front did not improve. A June 1917 offensive against Austria failed, further angering Russian citizens.

April 1917: Germany Sends Lenin Home to Russia

While Russia muddled under the Provisional Government, a Marxist named Vladimir Lenin traveled by train through Germany toward Russia. His goal was to start a communist revolution in his homeland, from which he had been exiled years earlier. Germany, at war with Russia, agreed to help send the exiled leader back, believing that returning a radical to the struggling Russia might lead to internal collapse. On April 23, 1917, Lenin arrived in Petrograd. Would he be accepted, or would the public view him as a traitorous German agent?

Aided by socialists in Western Europe, Lenin’s arrival put him in Russia’s capital, though he was hardly the only socialist in town. The Soviets, or workers’ councils, were full of similar radicals. Lenin’s party, the Bolsheviks, vied for power among other groups, including the Mensheviks. The Bolsheviks were more radical than other groups and wanted an immediate communist revolution. Quickly, the Bolsheviks began to gain popularity among the workers.

October 1917: Lenin Begins Communist Revolution

On October 24, 1917, the Bolsheviks made their move with armed paramilitary units known as the Red Guards. The Red Guards broke into the headquarters of the Provisional Government and dissolved it by force. By this point, the Provisional Government enjoyed virtually no public support. In control of Petrograd, Russia’s winter capital, Vladimir Lenin and the Bolsheviks were now, effectively, the “official” government of Russia.

However, given Russia’s tremendous size, control of Petrograd and the Winter Palace did not mean control of Russia. While millions eagerly supported the Bolsheviks due to ideals of equality for all, many others did not. The Russian Civil War erupted as the Bolsheviks, joined by other communists, fought for control of the country against anti-communist forces. Embroiled in civil war, it was clear that Russia could no longer dedicate any energy or resources to remaining in World War I.

March 5, 1918: Russia Signs Peace Treaty

Immediately upon taking power in Petrograd, Lenin called for an end to Russia’s involvement in World War I. On December 2, 1917, an armistice was signed between Russia and Germany. Three months later, a formal treaty was signed in the town of Brest-Litovsk, ending the war between Russia and the Central Powers (Germany, Austria-Hungary, and the Ottoman Empire). The Germans received significant Russian territory, aided by a temporary resumption of fighting in February to frighten the Russians into submission. Lenin accepted the treaty as a way to buy time to win his civil war.

Other communists, however, were outraged by the treaty, which gave away prime western territory to an “imperial power.” Russia lost the modern-day Baltic territories, Finland, most of Poland and Lithuania, and parts of Belarus and Ukraine. Although this ceded land was officially supposed to become independent republics, it was clear that Germany planned to annex or at least dominate them. With consternation, the Allied Powers watched as Russia left the war, freeing up hundreds of thousands of German soldiers on the Eastern Front.

Result: Germany’s Spring Offensive

The Treaty of Brest-Litovsk allowed Germany to transfer fifty divisions from the Eastern Front to the Western Front in France. Instead of putting this manpower on defense in the trenches, Germany’s military planners switched to the offensive, planning to use the influx of soldiers to take the war out of the trenches. On March 21, 1918, only weeks after Brest-Litovsk was signed, Germany began its largest offensive of the war on the first day of spring, known as the Spring Offensive.

Sixty divisions pushed west into the Allied lines, spearheaded by specially selected stormtroopers. Although the breakthrough was initially successful, the Allies rallied, aided greatly by the continued influx of American manpower. With the help of the American Expeditionary Forces in France, the Spring Offensive was eventually ground down. The Allies responded with their Hundred Days Offensive, which finally broke the back of the German war machine. In November 1918, Germany asked for an armistice. A year later, the Treaty of Versailles formally ended World War I, punishing Germany harshly with war reparations.

Aftermath: Turmoil in Eastern Europe

The territory ceded by Russia in Brest-Litovsk became new republics right next to the ongoing Russian Civil War. Communists in Russia wanted to reincorporate these territories into their planned Soviet Union. This resulted in the Soviet-Polish War, which commenced as German troops left Eastern Europe. Between 1919 and 1921, Russian communists attempted to retake Poland, but were ultimately unsuccessful. The communists were successful, however, in seizing Ukraine, which had similarly been vacated by the Germans after Brest-Litovsk.

The Russian Civil War saw a brief period of Allied intervention in the Brest-Litovsk region aimed first at limiting Germany’s ability to capitalize on the new territory and then aiding the “White” anti-communist armies. The small numbers of American and British soldiers ultimately provided little fighting aid to the Whites, who eventually lost the civil war. Still, this Allied intervention greatly strained relations with the new communist government of the Soviet Union. The United States only restored diplomatic relations in 1933, finally accepting the Soviet Union as the legal successor state to Russia.

Aftermath: Distrust of Trading Land for Peace

On September 1, 1939, Nazi Germany invaded the nation of Poland, created after Brest-Litovsk, and began World War II in Europe. The Soviet Union took advantage of the situation and also invaded Poland, dividing the country. In June 1940, the Soviets also annexed the Baltic states of Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania. The ceded territory from Brest-Litovsk had created small, new republics that could scarcely protect themselves against the two world powers. The easy seizure of this territory also put Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union right next to each other, giving the Germans an easy route to begin Operation Barbarossa on June 22, 1941.

Since World War II, influenced by both Brest-Litovsk and the Munich Agreement of 1938, nations have largely rejected the idea of trading land for peace. It has rarely worked out well! One example of a (relatively) successful lasting peace requiring a land transfer was the Mexican Cession after the Mexican-American War, which required Mexico to give 55 percent of its territory to the United States! Few nations could afford to give away such vast amounts of land, and Mexico only did so because its northern territory was sparsely populated. Thus, today, nations typically refuse to cede territory in exchange for peace, as seen in the ongoing Russo-Ukrainian War.

Horoscopes were more than an amusing pastime in post-medieval Europe. They were seen as true testaments of science and God’s will. The problem with horoscopes is that while they were used to predict auspicious dates or the sex of a child, they could also be used as loaded weapons. If horoscopes were taken as fact, they would justify political coups, economic upheavals, and give assassins whatever clearance they needed to murder a monarch. To cast a horoscope to predict a ruler’s death was considered treasonous, so during the reign of Elizabeth I, she made a law making it a capital offense to cast a horoscope to find the death date of herself. Later English monarchs passed laws to make it illegal to do the same.

The Weaponization of Celestial Mechanics

Medieval astronomy and astrology were one and the same. They were a married science that believed the universe was a clean, predictable geocentric system controlled by God’s will. It was deeply interwoven with mathematics to divine the future. However, when there was political upheaval in the land, astrology was used as a means to predict the monarch’s death. These horoscopes encouraged domestic rebellions and political coups under the belief that they were acting on God’s will. It was also bad economically to predict a monarch’s demise, because merchants would hoard goods, raise prices, international trade would stop, and peasants would be forced to bear the brunt of fallout. Unhappy peasants meant they would augment rebellion.

How Predicting a Royal Death Became High Treason

A well-known example of horoscopes being used to divine a monarch’s death was during the reign of Elizabeth I. Elizabeth was a Protestant queen, which rankled the ire of British Catholics. Catholic factions wanted a sympathetic sovereign, so they cast horoscopes for Elizabeth’s death so they could replace her with Mary Queen of Scots. These horoscopes would be used as justification for assassination plots or political coups against the queen. As a result, Elizabeth I enacted the 1581 Statute that criminalized casting a monarch’s horoscopes for nativity and death, making it go from heresy to a high-level felony. Elizabeth’s successor, James I, was so paranoid about the occult that he actually instituted the hunting of astrologers who were bold enough to cast the astrological charts of anyone in the royal family.

Why Roman Emperors Set the Precedent for Banning Horoscopes

While Elizabeth I is a more modern example of how astrology was outlawed, in 11 CE Emperor Augustus was the first to ban using the stars to predict death when his rivals were casting his horoscope to determine when he would die. Emperor Tiberius was another great believer in astrology, but instead of worrying about assassination attempts, he used horoscopes to justify the murder of his political opponents. It wasn’t a surprise when Roman laws were enacted that banned the prediction of a ruler’s horoscope because it was seen as plotting his assassination.  

The Papal Crusade Against Political Divination

Italy was its own bastion of horoscope horrors. Astrologers were keen on predicting the death of cardinals and determining the outcomes of papal elections. They were master manipulators who crashed the Italian economy more than once. Pope Sixtus V was so fed up with Italian astrologers that he made the Coeli et Terrae decree that stripped astrologers of their protections and made judicial astrology heretical. 

Judicial astrology is used to predict the future, while other forms of astrology are used to study how celestial bodies move. It was viewed as demonic to predict the future because it went against God’s doctrine of free will. It became very wild when, in 1631, an astrologer accurately predicted the death of Pope Urban VIII. He wasn’t happy about that.

The Shift From Court Science to State Threat

Johannes Kepler was a firm believer in astrology and set out to prove that it was a true science, but as he studied the skies and used rational mathematics, he learned that the universe was a chaotic place with elliptical orbits. He published his findings in the Rudolphine Tables, which brought physics and astronomy together, and it was one of the beginnings of scientific rationalism against spiritual occultism. This gave rise to the Enlightenment in the 17th century, when King Louis XIV of France made an edict in 1682 that stopped the prosecution of astrologers. Instead, they were decreed charlatans who would be punished with lighter sentences. Monarchs’ fear of death was one of the reasons, teamed with Johannes Kepler and the Vatican’s Inquisition, that ended astrology’s reign as a science.

Between the end of the 10th and the beginning of the 11th century, as Europe recovered from the instability following the fall of the Western Roman Empire (5th century), the continent’s commerce grew, also fueled by the development of long-distance trade. The presence of pirates and bandits, however, made traveling dangerous. Moreover, merchants had to deal with quarrelsome overlords. To protect their trading interests, German merchants began to form Hanse (associations). By the 13th century, these trading groups bound into a single guild: the Hanseatic League. In the following centuries, the Hanse became the undisputed ruler of the Baltic and North Seas.

Setting the Stage: The Hanseatic League & Medieval Trade

The volume of trade in Europe decreased after the fall of the Western Roman Empire, even if it never really stopped. Then, between the late 10th and early 11th centuries, when reconstruction began after several waves of invasions, European trade saw a rapid expansion.

The rate of economic development led Italian-American historian Roberto Sabatino Lopez to speak of a “commercial revolution.” Similarly, French historian Henri Pirenne (1936) talked about a “revival of trade,” claiming that it was export trade as the true basis of economic growth: “It was this alone which gave birth to that class of professional merchants which was the chief instrument of the economic revival of the 11th and 12th centuries … The impetus was given by long-distance trade.”

Some modern scholars believe the actual volume of long-distance trade in medieval Europe has been overestimated. However, there is no denying that the emergence of networks of merchants played a key role in the economic revival beginning in the 10th century, contributing to the creation of connections between distant communities and, eventually, the integration of European markets.

In the 12th century, while Italian and French ports began to create trade connections with the Muslim world and the Byzantine Empire, importing silks and spices, trade in the northern seas developed around the exchange of cloth, salt fish, wine, furs, and skins.

Evidence for the “economic revolution” is scant, but the establishment of an increasing number of markets and fairs, coupled with the flourishing of urban centers and port cities, is likely a testament to this revival of trade. At the time, towns and other forms of interest-based communities, such as guilds and universities, evolved in the absence of strong, central state entities. Often in conflict with the vertical feudal power structures of medieval society, merchant towns and communities soon set up trade connections.

The Birth of the Hanseatic League

In the 12th century, German merchants made regular trips across the Baltic Sea to reach the Russian town of Novgorod. There, the traders exchanged cloth, metal, grain, and herring (among other goods) for wax, furs, and spices.

The routes connecting northern Germany and Russia, however, were long and full of hazards, from piracy to dealing with the feudal lords, from dukes and margraves to the Teutonic Knights, ruling over a patchwork of territories corresponding to present-day Germany, Poland, the Netherlands, the Baltic States, and Russia. To protect themselves and their interests, groups of merchants began to form loose unions known as Hanse, a medieval German term meaning “association,” which, in turn, derived from a Gothic word for “troop” or “company.”

On their way to Novgorod, the German merchants often stopped on the island of Gotland, off the Swedish coast. Its strategic location in the middle of the Baltic Sea made Gotland, especially the town of Visby, a popular trade hub of the Baltic region. Among those who regularly conducted their business in Visby were the Lübeck merchants, who established a key base on the island.

Indeed, the city of Lübeck, rebuilt in 1159 after its capture by Henry III “the Lion,” played a crucial role in the origins of the Hanseatic League. Placed in a particularly favorable position, on the banks of the Trave River and near the Baltic Sea, the German town formed a trading alliance with Hamburg in 1241. The two cities had previously agreed to refer to a set of common laws regarding certain trading matters.

A European Superpower

Meanwhile, other cities also formed loose unions to protect their common interests, a process favored by their geographic locations and interdependence of trading routes. By 1259, the Lübeck-Hamburg Hanse had acquired other members, including Cologne, Rostock, and Wismar. Some years later, they agreed to adopt the same legislation regarding trade. Thus, from the Hanse of merchants developed the Hansa (League) of towns whose merchants enjoyed privileges abroad.

Indeed, by the early 13th century, the German towns revolving around Lübeck had secured a monopoly on long-distance trade in the Baltic Sea area. The East-West trade axis between Novgorod, Tallinn, Hamburg, Bruges, and London would remain the foundation of the Hanseatic League’s commercial power throughout the Middle Ages. To better control the currents of Baltic trade, the cities of the Hanseatic League founded kontore (trading posts) overseas, which became the first port of call for the German merchants conducting business abroad.

The four major kontore, which formed the cornerstones of the northern trading network, were in Novgorod, London, Bruges, and Bergen. In some cities, the posts formed a separate legal area, acquiring privileges and exemptions. In the English capital city, for example, the Hanseatic merchants set up their headquarters in the so-called Stalhof (steelyard) on the Thames River, west of London Bridge. It has been suggested that the etymology of the word “sterling” is closely linked to the German merchants, commonly known as “Easterling,” as it may have been used to refer to their solid currency. This theory, however, has been contested.

Alongside their joint commercial enterprises, the Hanseatic cities invested in shipbuilding, developing the cog, a type of cargo ship with a square sail and a flat bottom built to carry large amounts of cargo with a small crew. The cog, ideally suited for the trading needs of the Baltic region, gave the Hanseatic League advantages over its competitors, thus contributing to the establishment of its monopoly.

The Hanseatic League’s Organization

Defining the exact organization of the Hanseatic League has always been a difficult task. Indeed, despite its extensive trading network, the community of German towns never drew up an official, up-to-date list of its members. However, scholars generally agree that, at its peak, the Hansa’s membership counted more than 100 cities.

As they were joined in a loose organization, more of a community than a political federation or corporation, the Hanseatic cities had no permanent officials, no permanent navy, owned no joint property, and had no permanent central governing body. In the absence of a common council, representatives of the Hanseatic towns gathered in a diet, usually held at Lübeck, to agree on common policies. However, there was no obligation for all members to take part in the assembly.

The diets were also held at irregular intervals, often in the face of threats to the Hanseatic League’s commercial interests.

The Hanseatic League’s Policies

The main aim of the Hanseatic League was not the entry into new markets; rather, its members sought to protect and advance their hold on the Baltic region against growing competition. To retain the natural advantages granted by their favorable geographical position, the Hanseatic cities made frequent gifts and loans to local leaders, resorting to embargoes and blockades when their exclusive privileges were threatened.

In 1368, the Hanseatic League assembled a common fleet to blockade Norway’s ports after the Norwegian rulers resisted German merchants’ demands for trading privileges. As the Hansa blocked the vital importation of grain, Norway was eventually forced to concede.

Only in extreme cases did the Hanseatic League resort to warfare. In 1361, for example, the German towns took up arms against Denmark, where King Valdemar’s expansionist policies posed a serious threat to their hold on Visby, the very basis of the league’s power in the Baltic. In 1370, the Treaty of Stralsund granted the victorious Hanseatic forces free passage through the “Sound,” a strategic strait between Denmark and Sweden, and the right to approve (or veto) the appointment of future Danish kings. The Hanseatic League also waged war against Poland, whose monarchs tried to annex Danzig (present-day Gdansk).

The Decline and Fall of the Hanseatic League

Despite the lack of a centralized political structure, the Hanseatic League retained its monopoly of Baltic trade for almost 500 years. Only in the 15th century did the Hanse begin to experience a slow but steady decline that continued in the following centuries, eventually leading to the community’s disappearance as a major commercial player.

The league’s initial decline was caused by a combination of factors reflecting the changing economic and political landscape of Europe (and the world). Besides their favorable geographical position, the foundations of the Hanseatic towns’ power lay in their interdependence and mutuality of interest.

Indeed, when internal conflicts began to arise between the cities, the weakness of the league became apparent, just when the Hansa was also put under strain by the increasingly frequent forays of competitors, such as Nuremberg and Augsburg, into the Baltic trade. Groups centered on the Hanseatic towns of Cologne and Danzig, for example, sought to build profitable connections with the Low Countries, England, and the Dutch merchants. As a result, cooperation between the league’s members became difficult.

At the same time, the rise of new nation-states posed a serious threat to the league’s monopoly. Local rulers grew resentful of the Hanse’s privileges and practices that prevented them from exercising control over the newly formed nations’ own trading interests. In 1598, for example, Queen Elizabeth I expelled the Hanseatic League from the London kontore. At the end of the 14th century, the union of Poland and Lithuania had also harmed Hanseatic interests. In the 15th century, following Ivan III’s capture of Novgorod, the Hanse lost a crucial trading post.

Finally, the decline of the Hanse was also a reflection of the fact that, in the 16th century, the center of trade shifted from northern to western and southern Europe. Indeed, the Age of Exploration opened up new markets and trade patterns. Thus, new powers, such as Spain, Portugal, the Netherlands, and England, replaced the Hanseatic towns as the new maritime superpowers.

The last Hanseatic diet took place in 1669 in Lübeck with only six cities sending their representatives. In the following centuries, the Hanseatic League would no longer play any active role in European trade.

On All Saints’ Day, November 1, 1755, at approximately 9:40 am, the Portuguese capital of Lisbon experienced a triple disaster of an earthquake, tsunami, and fire that would change the way Europeans understood nature. What began as a massive seismic shift quickly escalated into a nightmare of biblical proportions. Because it was a major holy day, thousands of candles were lit in the city’s many cathedrals, and so when the tremors struck, many of the candles toppled, igniting fires that would rage for nearly a week.

When a Holy Day Turned into a Crisis of Faith

The disaster was the result of a submarine earthquake estimated at a magnitude of 7.7 to 9.0, originating in the Azores-Gibraltar Transform Fault. As enormous churches tumbled on their congregations inside, survivors ran toward the banks of the Tagus to escape falling rubble and rising flames. There, they saw the water recede, revealing a riverbed littered with sunken ships and abandoned cargo. About 40 minutes later, a towering tsunami slammed into the city, sweeping over those who had fled to the waterfront.

Digging through the ruins of what was one of Europe’s largest and richest cities, survivors slowly began to comprehend the magnitude of the destruction. Estimates ranged from about 40,000 to 50,000 fatalities. As they tried to make sense of the destruction around them, they wondered how God could have watched this happen to His people in His own churches, especially on a day when all saints were celebrating together, and His followers were kneeling in prayer. The disaster ignited fierce debates over theodicy (the attempt to vindicate divine goodness in the face of evil and suffering).

How the Ruins of Lisbon Shattered European Optimism

Before the disaster, many educated Europeans subscribed to the philosophy of Optimism. Advocated by Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz in his work Theodicy in 1710 and popularized by Alexander Pope’s Essay on Man. The philosophy held that since God is omnipotent and omnibenevolent, He could not have chosen anything but the “best of all possible worlds,” when it came to worldly matters. According to the theory, what humans perceived as evil was merely a necessity required for a greater, cosmic good that humans simply lacked the perspective to understand.

The earthquake shattered this worldview for many. The sheer death toll and the collapse of churches while the city’s brothels in the Alfama district largely remained standing due to their more stable, rocky ground made the “best of all possible worlds” argument seem increasingly absurd.

How Voltaire and Rousseau Clashed Over the Cause of the Tragedy

Voltaire led the intellectual assault on Optimism. In 1756, he published Poème sur le désastre de Lisbonne, a scathing critique of Leibnizian logic. He asked pointedly why innocent infants were left to writhe in pain if a merciful God was in control. Voltaire later cemented this critique in his 1759 masterpiece, Candide, where the character Dr. Pangloss parodies the “Optimist” view by insisting that everything is for the best even as he and the protagonist endure horrific tragedies.

However, the debate was not one-sided. Jean-Jacques Rousseau responded to Voltaire by shifting the blame from God to humanity. Rousseau argued that the earthquake was not a divine act of cruelty, but a consequence of human urbanization. He noted that if 20,000 houses of six or seven stories had not been crowded together in a seismic zone, the damage would have been negligible. This marked a pivotal moment in Western thought, moving the focus away from divine punishment and toward human responsibility and urban planning.

How Pombal and Kant Shifted Disaster from Religion to Science

While philosophers debated, the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, Sebastião José de Carvalho e Melo (later known as the Marquis of Pombal), kickstarted the nation’s recovery process on behalf of the overwhelmed King Joseph I. He sidelined religious leaders who preached divine wrath to launch a remarkably organized, secular disaster relief effort. He also began rebuilding Lisbon with earthquake-resistant structures. The new buildings featured a cross-braced wooden frame called a Pombaline cage. The feature allowed the houses to sway during a quake rather than snap.

At the same time, in East Prussia, a young academic named Immanuel Kant became fascinated with identifying the cause of the earthquake. He compiled reports of the earthquake’s movements and wrote three scientific papers about it in 1756. Kant described the quake as caused by subterranean gases igniting inside underground caves, instead of a punishment from God sent upon sinners. While Kant’s theory about gases was wrong, his ideas inspired others to search for natural causes behind earthquakes instead of relying on religion. The shift in thinking helped pave the way for the later study of seismology.

By shaking traditional religious belief systems, the 1755 Lisbon earthquake marked the start of a more secular and scientific way of understanding the world, laying the groundwork for the Enlightenment, otherwise known as the Age of Reason.

The English Reformation (c. 1527–1603) ushered in decades of turmoil and sectarian violence. Beginning with Henry VIII, each Tudor monarch adopted their own approach to enforce, reject, or restore Protestant beliefs. Many of these policies targeted the wealthy assets of Catholic institutions across England.  The victims of this chaos were the bright murals, rood screens, and religious iconography that decorated English Catholic churches since the Medieval Period. After centuries of tradition, these art forms were defaced, dismantled, or destroyed.

Tudor Politics and the English Reformation

While the Protestant Reformation swept across Europe primarily due to theological disputes, Henry VIII broke with Rome to reject papal authority. All patience toward the Papacy was lost by 1530 when Pope Clement VII denied his request to annul his marriage to Catherine of Aragon in favor of marrying Anne Boleyn. Guided by his advisor, Thomas Cromwell, and the Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Cranmer, Henry VIII officially separated from Rome in 1534 with the Act of Supremacy. Under this act, he replaced the pope as the head of the Church of England.

Rejecting centuries of religious and institutional precedent sent shockwaves across England. Henry VIII began dismantling Catholic institutions, leaving countless monasteries, abbeys, and nunneries in ruin. His advisors later influenced his son, Edward VI, to enforce strict Protestant theological policies that targeted Catholic iconography and gutted church interiors. While Mary I attempted to resuscitate England’s relationship with Rome, Elizabeth I maintained her brother and father’s mission to standardize Protestant worship.

The haphazard application of Reformation politics throughout these reigns resulted in religious persecution and suppression that killed thousands. Up to 97% of all religious art in England was destroyed during the Reformation or in periods of sectarian violence that followed.

However, the English Reformation was only one chapter in the destruction of Catholic art and buildings. Many structures, statues, and paintings that survived the Tudor Period were once targeted, defaced, and destroyed only a century later during the English Civil War (1642-1651).

Dissolution of the Monasteries

One of Henry VIII’s most controversial Reformation policies was the Dissolution of the monasteries.  At the time, the Catholic church owned one quarter of all land in England. While Henry VIII battled debt issues throughout his reign, monasteries were one of England’s wealthiest institutions. Under the guise of thwarting papal influence and wealth hoarding, royal commissioners and local authorities forcibly seized monastic assets. The Act of Suppression in 1536 closed and dispossessed smaller monasteries. In 1539, the Second Act of Suppression targeted larger monasteries for their wealth.

By 1540, 50 monasteries were being dismantled per month. Abbots, friars, nuns, and priests were sometimes provided a small pension to cover the loss of their position, homes, and livelihoods.

Clergy who refused to comply while their monasteries were being sacked were arrested or executed. For example, the abbot of Glastonbury Abbey, Richard Whiting, was hanged, drawn, and quartered in 1539 on suspected treason charges for refusing to surrender his abbey. In late 1536, between 30,000 and 40,000 local gentry and peasants in Northern England revolted against these Reformation policies. Dubbed the Pilgrimage of Grace, these revolts became the largest rebellion in Tudor England. However, by 1537, their numbers were dispelled and the leaders were hanged.

These seizures had a catastrophic impact on monastic properties. Anything that could be profitable was expropriated by local commissioners and representatives of the crown. Even the metal roofs of monasteries were seized. Lead roofs were stripped, exposing church interiors to the elements, causing early decay and ruin. Monastic treasuries were plundered. Gold, silver, relics, and precious stones were confiscated and used to line royal coffers and fund wars against Scotland and France.

Stained glass windows were smashed or taken. Most monastic libraries, archival collections, and illuminated manuscripts were lost, destroyed, or sold into private ownership. Monastic land was redistributed to local landlords. Other materials like timber, wood, and stone were sold to villagers. After a few years, some of the wealthiest monasteries had been ruined, converted into palaces, or made into stone quarries.

Protestant Iconoclasm

The Reformation triggered a new wave of iconoclasm in Western Christianity. Many Protestant reformist leaders condemned the use of religious iconography in worship and for the veneration of saints. They adopted a literal interpretation of the Second Commandment: “Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth” (Exodus 20:4-5). However, tolerance toward pre-existing Catholic paintings, statues, shrines, and crucifixes varied.

More radical reformers, like John Calvin, condemned these artworks as idolatrous and called for their destruction. Others, like Martin Luther, instead prioritized providing more accessible versions of religious texts for worship.

Henry VIII and Edward VI followed suit and rejected Catholic iconography and its use in devotional practices. In multiple acts, Henry VIII condemned the use of offerings, images, and pilgrimages, which he believed venerated saints in an idolatrous way. However, his son, Edward VI, shared a more radical approach with others like Thomas Cranmer.

During his short reign, a series of injunctions systematically removed and defaced Catholic iconography from paintings to glasswork. During these removals, many pieces were looted, stolen, or destroyed.

These policies had a detrimental impact on English Catholic religious art and culture. The veneration of saints was a core practice in medieval Catholicism. Congregations honored specific saints for their blessings and protection. In addition to praising God and the Holy Trinity, saints were honored through paintings, shrines, statues, pilgrimages, and relics like the bones or blood of saints like Thomas Becket. Over the centuries, Catholic religious art intertwined with these depictions of holy figures.

Considering many parishioners, especially in rural communities, were illiterate and had little access to Latin religious texts, these forms of religious art and iconography were instrumental for worship.

Denouncing religious iconography condemned most pre-Reformation religious art. Especially under Edward VI, artwork personifying saints, angels, the apostles, and even the Virgin Mary were torn down, destroyed, slashed, or defaced by royal commissioners and local authorities. Throughout England, shrines were closed, paintings were whitewashed, and decorative woodwork was torn down.

Pilgrimages were banned, and shrines were stripped of their gilded decor and jewels. Most relics, gold, silver, and precious stones were confiscated and appropriated on behalf of the Crown.

Whitewashing of Church Interiors

Vivid wall paintings were a major form of decoration in English Catholic churches centuries before the Reformation. Expansive artworks depicting biblical figures like Adam and Eve and evocative scenes like the Last Judgment covered church interiors. These artworks appeared all over England during the Medieval Period, from rural parish churches to wealthier monasteries and abbeys. Many of these murals also served as devotional pieces for saint cults. Popular pieces included the slaying of a dragon by St. George, the patron saint of England.

Most church walls were painted red, yellow, or charcoal tones from naturally sourced materials. Wealthier parishes used pigments from stones like azurite, malachite, and lapis lazuli for rarer green and blue colors. Traveling artists visited parishes throughout England to produce these murals for different congregations.

In some cases, allegorical symbols like the Wheel of Life were carefully painted onto stone, wood, and plaster. Floral and geometric patterns further filled these small church spaces with color and character.

However, these artworks also fell victim to Tudor iconoclastic policies. Deemed idolatrous, royal injunctions called for their destruction, removal, or erasure. Most medieval interior paintings were whitewashed or limewashed. By the end of the Tudor period, most churches were stripped of their medieval opulence in favor of plain and humble interiors. Their walls were instead decorated with inscriptions from biblical passages or the Ten Commandments.

Color was also bled from pre-Reformation churches with the destruction of stained-glass windows. Countless handmade pieces depicting biblical scenes and sacramental imagery present in most English churches were removed. Paintings and glass that survived the Reformation suffered a similar fate during the English Civil War a century later.

Ironically enough, the plaster and whitewash used to hide these pieces preserved many medieval artworks. By concealing these fragile pigments, these paintings were protected from exposure and aging. Multiple were rediscovered in the 19th century during the reign of Queen Victoria. Inspired by the Gothic Revival, Victorian restoration campaigns sought to restore medieval churches. During plaster repairs, many pre-Reformation wall paintings were uncovered. Fragments of biblical scenes, red patterns, and mythological creatures can still be seen in English churches today.

Repurposing and Recycling of Catholic Art

Similar to the accidental preservation of medieval wall paintings, the dismantling and re-use of Catholic art and materials also conserved many of these pieces. Paintings, wood panels, rood screens, fabrics, and stained-glass windows were recycled into furniture, textiles, or used for repair work. A large amount of pre-Reformation art discovered today survived due to their repurpose over the centuries.

A recent case of Catholic art that survived the Reformation through recycling is the famous medieval painting, The Kiss of Judas. Dated to around 1460, this piece had already been targeted for defacement by medieval parishioners because of its depiction of Judas. A recent discovery in 2015 revealed how the painting survived the English Reformation. During conservation work at the University of Cambridge, Dr. Lucy Wrapson discovered lettering on the painting’s wooden paneling. Using infrared photography, the letters appear to be a Protestant inscription of the Ten Commandments. This suggests that the painting likely survived iconoclastic targeting because of its functionality as a church board.

Pieces of rood screens were also often recycled and reused. These wooden structures were one of the most defining architectural features in medieval English churches. Built from wooden beams and panels, most English parishes used these structures to create a partition between the laity and the altar. They were typically decorated with statues, elaborate carvings, and paintings of Jesus, the Virgin Mary, apostles, and saints. While most were dismantled, defaced, and destroyed during the Reformation, some pieces survived. Those parts were repurposed into pulpits, pews, rails, or tables.

Pieces of Catholic vestments and altar cloths were also spared from ruin. These materials were in high demand for their rich Italian fabrics, unique embroidery, and durability. For instance, the Countess of Shrewsbury, Elizabeth Talbot, became known for her extensive textile collection that contained many recycled cloths from pre-Reformation religious fabric. These fabrics have been discovered throughout England in country homes, merchant shops, aristocratic estates, castles, and private collections. Most were turned into tapestries, carpets, curtains, and drapery.

Built by William the Conqueror shortly after his coronation, the Tower of London initially served as a fortress to control access to the city through the river. The Norman king’s successors expanded the building, erecting a palace within its walls. In the Middle Ages, however, the Tower became more renowned as a prison than for its luxurious royal apartments. By the Tudor period, it had become the biggest state prison in England, where rulers imprisoned political enemies. Explore the rich history of the Tower of London through nine of its most famous prisoners, from Anne Boleyn to Guy Fawkes.

1. Anne Boleyn

Among all of the prisoners, Anne Boleyn is perhaps the most notorious. Her marriage to Henry VIII in 1533 famously led the English monarch to break with the Roman Catholic Church, bringing about the English Reformation.

The young Anne first met the Tudor king when he was still married to his first wife, Catherine of Aragon. Desperate to secure the line of succession to the throne through a male heir, Henry VIII sought to obtain an annulment of his marriage to the aging Catherine. Pope Clement VII, however, refused to grant the English monarch permission to divorce. Growing increasingly frustrated with the interminable effort to solve his “Great Matter,” the king married Anne in secret in January 1533. Their union was announced on Easter of the same year.

Anne knew how to get through Henry VIII and his volatile moods, exerting no small influence on England’s policies, especially regarding the Reformation. Her behavior, often perceived as arrogant, however, made her unpopular at court. When her pregnancies did not result in the birth of the desired son (she gave birth to the future Elizabeth I in 1533), Henry grew impatient and engaged in affairs with other women.

On May 2, 1536, Henry had Anne committed to the Tower of London on charges of adultery and even incest. It is possible that Thomas Cromwell, one of her most powerful adversaries, contributed to fabricating the evidence against her. She was tried and unanimously convicted shortly after. Upon learning that she was to be beheaded, she apparently joked: “I heard the executioner was very good, and I have a little neck.”

She was executed on May 19 on Tower Green and buried in the Chapel of St. Peter ad Vincula in the Tower of London. Eleven days after her death, Henry married his third wife, Jane Seymour.

2. Lady Jane Grey

In 1547, Henry VIII was succeeded by his only male heir, Edward VI, who was only nine years old. Edward’s reign lasted only 6 years. According to the Acts of Succession Henry VIII passed before his death, his half-sister Mary, a devoted Catholic, was next in line for the English throne.

However, Edward, a staunch supporter of the Reformation, wanted to keep England firmly within the Protestant sphere of influence. Following the advice of John Dudley, duke of Northumberland, at the time the most powerful man in the kingdom, the dying Edward overturned the line of succession, naming Lady Jane Grey as his successor.

The daughter of Lady Frances Brandon and Henry Grey, duke of Suffolk, Jane was the grand-niece of Henry VIII. Young Jane spent her childhood in the household of Catherine Parr (Henry VIII’s sixth and last wife). In 1553, she then married Lord Guildford Dudley, John’s son.

On July 10, 1553, a day after young Edward VI’s death, she was named queen. The following day, 15-year-old Jane entered the Tower of London to prepare for her coronation. Mary Tudor, however, the heir to the throne according to Henry VIII’s will, immediately rejected this new line of succession. Popular among the English Catholics, she soon managed to amass considerable support.

As Lady Jane Grey’s supporters melted away, even her father abandoned her side, proclaiming Mary queen on July 19 in a desperate attempt to save his position. The Tower of London was now her prison. She was sentenced to death for treason alongside her husband on November 14, 1553. While Mary initially suspended her sentence, her father’s participation in Thomas Wyatt’s Protestant rebellion in February 1554 sealed her fate. Jane and her husband were beheaded on February 12, 1554. She was 17 years old.

Traces of Lady Jane Grey, a victim of the political and religious conflict of her time, can still be found on the Tower of London. A graffiti in the wall of the Beauchamp Tower, for example, reads “IANE,” or Jane. Her husband carved his family’s coat of arms near the fireplace.

3. Thomas More

English humanist Thomas More became Lord Chancellor of England in October 1529, when his predecessor, Cardinal Wolsey, lost the influential position due to the failure of his foreign policy and attempt to secure the annulment of Henry VIII’s marriage to Catherine of Aragon.

A devout Catholic and opponent of Lutheranism, Thomas More resigned as Lord Chancellor in May 1532, when the clergy agreed not to “execute any new canons or constitutions provincial without the royal assent and authority.”

More also refused to assent under oath to the 1534 Act of Succession, a reform that acknowledged Anne Boleyn’s children as the rightful heirs to the throne and, most importantly, rejected the idea of papal supremacy. More had previously opted not to attend the king’s marriage to Anne Boleyn. These decisions marked him out for vengeance. He was soon arrested in the Tower of London.

In November of the same year, the Act of Treasons made More’s offense, referred to as a “malicious” refusal to accept royal supremacy, punishable by death. During his imprisonment in the Tower, More stood firm in his refusal to acknowledge the king’s religious supremacy, stating, as he wrote in a 1535 letter to his daughter, Margaret Roper, that he was now dedicated to “study upon the passion of Christ” and his own “passage out of his world.”

Condemned to death on July 1, 1535, Thomas More was beheaded five days later on Tower Hill. On the day of his execution, he blindfolded himself and, in his final words, he told the onlookers that he was “the King’s good servant but God’s first.”

4. Catherine Howard

The fourth wife of Henry VIII, Catherine Howard, entered the household of Anne of Cleves, who was about to become the Tudor monarch’s fourth wife, in 1539. About a year later, in July 1540, young Catherine (the first cousin of Anne Boleyn) married Henry after his second divorce. The wedding took place on the same day that Thomas Cromwell, the king’s influential minister, was executed.

Initially taken in by the lively temperament of his young wife, the king became incensed upon learning of Catherine’s supposed affairs before their marriage. It is also probable that the new queen committed adultery with Thomas Culpepper, a courtier close to the king.

Furious, Henry had Catherine imprisoned in the Tower of London. She was beheaded on February 13, 1542. Two days earlier, Parliament passed a bill declaring it treason for an “unchaste” woman to marry the monarch. Catherine may have been only 18 years old at the time of her death. Her supposed lovers, Thomas Culpepper and Francis Dereham, were condemned to death shortly before her.

5. Guy Fawkes

Born in 1570 in a Protestant family, Guy Fawkes later converted to Roman Catholicism. In his 20s, he fought alongside the Spanish forces in the Netherlands, where he came into contact with other English Catholics.

By the early years of the 17th century, he had joined what became known as the Gunpowder Plot, a scheme aiming to blow up Parliament and kill King James I and his family. Angered by the increasing oppression of English Catholics, Guy Fawkes and his co-conspirators hoped their coup would allow them to seize power and bring England back to Catholicism.

As the planned attack would take place on November 5, when the king was set to attend the state opening of Parliament at Westminster, Guy Fawkes hid about 36 barrels of gunpowder (hence the name of the plot) in the cellar of the building.

On October 26, however, an anonymous letter led to the discovery of the coup. During a search in Westminster’s cellar, the police discovered Fawkes alongside the explosives, a box of matches, and a fuse. Immediately arrested, Guy Fawkes was imprisoned in the Tower of London and tortured. The other conspirators managed to flee from London, but they were caught a few days later.

Tried and found guilty of treason, Guy Fawkes was set to be “hanged, drawn, and quartered.” On the day of his execution in 1606, however, he avoided his gruesome fate by jumping (or falling) off the gallows. Parliament later declared November 5 a yearly celebration of the plot’s failure.

6. Sir Walter Raleigh

One of the most colorful members of Elizabeth I’s court, Sir Walter Raleigh became the queen’s favorite, a position that brought him considerable wealth. Knighted in 1585, he became captain of the queen’s guard two years later.

His influence allowed Sir Walter Raleigh to set into motion his idea of establishing English colonies in North America to challenge Spain’s monopoly in the “New World.” Between 1584 and 1589, his efforts led to the creation of a colony, named Virginia, in honor of the queen. In 1595, he then led an expedition in South America.

By then, however, his position at court had been weakened. Indeed, the queen, furious upon discovering his marriage to Elizabeth Throckmorton, a decision that Elizabeth I perceived as a betrayal, sent the couple to the Tower of London. While he somewhat managed to regain the monarch’s favor (he was even named governor of the Isle of Jersey), his influence was damaged.

After Queen Elizabeth’s death, Raleigh’s aggressive stance toward Spain was not well received by the new monarch, King James I. Accused of plotting against James, he was again imprisoned in the Tower of London. Initially sentenced to death, the king then reduced the sentence to life imprisonment.

He was released thirteen years later, in 1616, after he convinced King James I to let him organize a gold-finding expedition to South America. The venture, however, was unsuccessful. Not only did Sir Walter Raleigh’s son die in action, but the adventurer’s attempt to capture some Spanish ships laden with precious metal also angered the English monarch.

Imprisoned for a third time in the Tower, Sir Walter Raleigh was executed on October 29, 1618.

7. The Princes in the Tower

The case of the so-called “princes in the Tower” is one of the most mysterious tales surrounding the Tower of London. Edward and Richard, the sons of King Edward IV and Elizabeth Woodville, were born during the Wars of the Roses, a series of civil wars between two rival noble houses that led to political turmoil in 15th-century England. Indeed, the dynastic struggle saw seven monarchs ascend to the throne over a period of 30 years.

The 12-year-old Edward became king following the death of his father, King Edward IV, in April 1483. The dying king’s brother, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, became Lord Protector of his young nephew. Upon learning of his brother’s passing, Richard rushed to meet young Edward on his journey to London and immediately took charge of the situation.

Upon reaching the city, Richard sent his nephew to the Tower of London “for protection.” His younger brother Richard, duke of York, joined him shortly after. As it was tradition for the new monarch to stay in the Tower until the coronation, the move did not immediately raise suspicion. Young Edward’s coronation, however, was initially postponed and then canceled. Indeed, on June 26, 1483, Parliament declared the princes illegitimate, claiming that their father’s marriage to Elizabeth Woodville was invalid.

On July 6, it was the brother’s uncle, Richard, who became king. Shortly after King Richard III’s ascent to the throne, the young princes disappeared from the Tower of London, never to be seen again. While it is possible that they were murdered on Richard’s order, the mystery surrounding their disappearance remains unsolved.

8. William Wallace

William Wallace’s imprisonment in the Tower of London may have been brief, but he undoubtedly made his mark on British history as the chief inspiration for Scotland’s resistance against King Edward I of England.

The second son of Sir Malcolm Wallace of Elderslie in Renfrewshire, William Wallace became involved in the succession crisis following the death of Alexander III, king of Scotland, in 1286. In 1296, King Edward I of England deposed John de Balliol, the Scottish monarch, and assumed direct control over Scotland as its lord paramount, a move that angered the Scots. Joining the resistance against the English king, William Wallace and his band burned the town of Lanark, killing the local sheriff.

While the rebels’ army suffered a defeat, Wallace continued the fight, and in September 1297, he scored a decisive victory at the Battle of Stirling. In a Scotland now almost free of English control, Wallace was knighted and gained the title of guardian of the kingdom. In 1298, however, he suffered a heavy defeat against the forces of Edward I, losing his prestige as military commander.

Arrested near Glasgow in August 1305, he was imprisoned in the Tower of London and condemned to death. On August 23 of the same year, he was hanged, disemboweled, beheaded, and quartered. Despite his horrible fate, his legacy makes him one of Scotland’s greatest national figures, gaining international fame through the 1995 movie Braveheart.

9. Henry Laurens

The only American Tower of London prisoner, Henry Laurens, was the chief officer of the Continental Congress when, in August 1780, he traveled to Europe to secure a loan from Holland to fund the American Revolutionary War. At the beginning of September, however, a British frigate intercepted Laurens’ ship. As his attempt to hide his identity by throwing his letters overboard failed, Laurens was arrested and imprisoned in the Tower of London in October.

According to his memory, during his first day of imprisonment, “The tune of Yankee doodle played I suppose in derision of me filled my mind with a sublime contempt & rather made me cheerful.” When he was in the Tower, the British authorities also tried to convince him to support the proposal of a peace that did not include America’s independence. In exchange, he was offered better living conditions. However, Laurens refused.

His imprisonment lasted until the end of December 1781, when, following Great Britain’s surrender at Yorktown, Virginia, he was released in a prisoner exchange.

“Correction (August 10, 2026): An earlier version of this article incorrectly referred to England surrendering at Yorktown. It has been updated to reflect that Great Britain surrendered. We regret the error.”