License to Sing

Among the many days that have traditional names ascribed to them (e.g. New Year’s Day, Shrove Tuesday, Mother’s Day) is Spy Wednesday, which is today. It’s the name given to the Wednesday before Easter Sunday and marks the day that Judas Iscariot decided to betray Jesus, as recorded in the Bible. Some Christian denominations still mark this day in their services.

So, as I did a few years ago I’ll mark Spy Wednesday by writing about the world’s most famous spy, James Bond. My intention was to write about the gay artist who designed many of the original book covers, but I had already done a bit about that last time. What I hadn’t done is write about the Bond themes and their lgbt+ connections. This is the first of two articles about the music of 007.

Music has always been a significant element of the Bond films, especially the title songs and the iconic Bond theme itself. I’m a fan of the Bond themes (except the bland Daniel Craig songs). Over the years a handful of lgbt+ singers and songwriters who have contributed to the Bond franchise. Some of the songs and music were rejected or used elsewhere, and these will also be covered.

Here is the chronological list of known lgbt+ singers and songwriters from the pre-Daniel Craig era.

“From Russia With Love” (1963) – The second Bond film and the first to include the film’s title in the theme song. He writer of the song was Lionel Bart (1930-1999), perhaps best known for writing the musical “Oliver!”

It may sound strange to some of you, but Lionel Bart is one of the many songwriters and musicians (like Elton John and Paul McCartney) who can’t read or write music, but could play an instrument (it’s like speaking without knowing how to read or write, as long as you make the right sound). Lionel would play the song on piano, perhaps record it, and a fellow musician would convert what he or she heard into musical notation. In the case of “From Russia With Love” it appears that John Barry, the main Bond composer of the 1960s, wrote down Lionel’s song and gave it the full orchestral arrangement for the film. That is why John Barry is often given a co-writing credit for the song.

“Thunderball” (1965) – Several other artists recorded a theme song, including Johnny Cash, which were all rejected. Twelve years ago, some 47 years after the film was released, a rejected theme for “Thunderball” by the above-mentioned Lionel Bart was rediscovered by Bond music expert Jon Burlingame.

As well as the title song, Bart also composed several variations which were probably intended to be used as incidental music. These all may have been demo recordings and not submitted officially to the Bond producers.

“Casino Royale” (1967) – Although not a part of the official James Bond franchise, this spoof film has become something of a cult. The film score was composed by music legend Burt Bacharach who, with his lyricist Hal David, came up with what is regarded as the film’s signature song, “The Look of Love”. In fact, the song almost never made it into the film at all.

The sequence in which “The Look of Love” features was directed by James McGrath. He played the song “The Girl From Ipanema” on set many times. When he came to shoot the seduction sequence with Peter Sellers and Ursula Andress he felt “The Girl From Ipanema” fitted the scene. However, the producers thought this would be too “arty” and threatened to cut the scene out altogether. So, McGrath asked Bacharach and David to come up with a song that gave the same feeling. They came up with “The Look of Love”. Thank goodness McGrath decided to keep the scene against the producer’s wishes or we wouldn’t have had the pleasure of hearing one of the best Bond songs ever.

Credit for the success of the song must also be given to its singer, the lesbian icon Dusty Springfield (1949-1999). A favourite singer of Burt Bacharach, Dusty’s smoky voice emphasises the sensual nature of the scene. Bacharach always referred to “The Look of Love” as a sexual song, not a love song. Fortunately for all concerned, the song was a massive hit and was nominated for an Oscar (it lost to “Talk to the Animals” from “Doctor Doolittle”).

“The Living Daylights” (1987) – It would be another 20 years and 12 films later that any lgbt+ singer or songwriter is known to have written for Bond. However, this time the song never made the film. It also connects us quite neatly with Dusty Springfield, because the group whose song was rejected was the Pet Shop Boys, featuring openly gay Neil Tennant (b.1954). The Pet Shop Boys are often wrongly credited with bringing Dusty Springfield out of “retirement” in 1987, when in fact Richard Carpenter had done so several months beforehand with the song “Something In Your Eyes”, but that’s another story.

The Pet Shop Boys wrote their “The Living Daylights” theme song in 1986. The story goes that someone connected with the production of the film had remarked that the group may be approached to write the theme song. The identity of that production crew member is uncertain, as is the exact nature of the “approach”. Perhaps it was just a rumour, or a case of the Pet Shop Boys being one of many names mentioned informally as a possibly suitable commercial choice. In the end the Pet Shop Boys wrote their song and recorded it, only to find that the band A-ha had been chosen instead.

Not letting a good song go to waste, the Pet Shop Boys reworked the song into a track called “This Must Be The Place I Waited Years To Leave”. It was featured on their 1990 album “Behaviour”. Recording the theme song for a Bond film only to have it rejected is not uncommon.

“Tomorrow Never Dies” (1997) – Moving on another ten years, we come to the film with one accepted and one rejected son featuring lgbt+ artists.

Not all Bond films have their signature song played over the opening credits. One or two are played over the closing credits. The most famous of these is “We have All the Time In the World” (“On Her Majesty’s Secret Service”). One less well-known end credit song is overshadowed by the opening credit title song in “Tomorrow Never Dies”. The end credit song is sung by another lesbian icon, k. d. lang (b.1961).

Unlike many other Bond songs, the producers of this film let it be known that they would be willing to accept any prospective Bond theme from any artist and writer. This led to more possible Bond songs that before, 12 in all, officially. One of the songs was written and sung by Marc Almond (b.1957). Unfortunately, his song is one of several that has never been released commercially or has been reworked and recorded fro public release, so we may never hear it.

The story of how k. d. lang ended up singing the closing theme and not the opening one was different. In 1997 British film composer David Arnold (“Stargate”, “Independence Day”, and the London 2012 Olympic opening ceremony, amongst other projects) produced a Bond music tribute album called “Shaken and Stirred”, consisting of Bond songs covered by other artists. For “Diamonds Are Forever” Arnold chose gay singer-songwriter David McAlmont (b.1967). The Bond producers heard the album and offered Arnold the job of scoring the whole “Tomorrow Never Dies” film. However, the first thing Arnold did was to ask McAlmont to co-write the theme song. Basically, the melody is McAlmont’s, the arrangement is Arnold’s, and the lyrics are by Bond legend Don Black. McAlmont was the singer on the demo tape.

However, the Bond producer’s had decided that none of the artists who submitted songs would be commercial enough to use, so they chose a popular singer of that period, Cheryl Crow, to write and perform the eventual Bond opening song instead.

Not to be outdone, Arnold rescored his theme, now retitled “Surrender”, with k. d. lang as the singer. The producers agreed to put the song at the end of the film over the closing credits. It’s a typical Bond song, with blaring trumpets, strong bass chords, and soaring vocals. I wonder it wasn’t chosen for the opening titles precisely because it too stereotypically Bond.

There’s actually a video on YouTube in which someone has put k.d. lang’s “Surrender” over the opening credits of “Tomorrow Never Dies” (below). I think you’ll agree, you can’t get any more “Bondy” than that.

That’s about it for today. I’ll continue this look at 007’s queer music in May.

Around the World in Another 80 Gays : Part 2) Rebellion

Previously : 1) Sir Noël Coward (1899-1973), when a tennage, became an unofficial mascot of the Sherwood Foresters regiment through his relationship with 2) Philip Streatfeild (1879-1915), whose regiment took part in the Irish rebellion led by 3) Sir Roger Casement (1964-1916).

The Easter Rising in Dublin 1916, at which the Sherwood Foresters were a major British force against the rebels, was organised mainly by a more militant group of Irish nationalists than 3) Sir Roger Casement’s own Irish Volunteers. Sir Roger knew about the uprising but may not have been fully aware of the militants’ plans to use the Easter assembly of the Volunteers as the date to start an armed rebellion. The Irish Volunteers tried to cancel their assembly but the militants decided to go ahead anyway. Sir Roger has expected to be involved in the rising but the militants thought they could manage without him.

In the lead up to the Easter Rising Sir Roger was in Germany arranging for arms shipments to be smuggled into Ireland by sea. He was uncertain about Germany being serious enough to send enough arms to be of any significant use. The arms and ammunition Germany offered was less than he had asked for, and he had to proceed without the assistance of the German military.

I have written several articles on Sir Roger Casement in the past and his activities are described in more detailed here. The ship carrying German arms to Ireland was intercepted by the Royal Navy just a few days before the Easter Rising. Sir Roger was captured and put on trial for treason. He was executed in 1916.

The smuggling plan was first discussed by Sir Roger in 1914 shortly after World War I broke out. He had gone to America to meet the German ambassador to the US Count Johan Heinrich von Bernstorff. Bernstorff was sympathetic to Sir Roger’s plan and he was himself placed in America to gather anti-British intelligence. The count was involved in many plots against the British, although he denied it at the time.

Another member of the Bernstorff family was a German diplomat at the time of the 1916 Easter Rising, Count Johan Heinrich’s nephew 4) Count Albrecht von Bernstorff (1890-1945). When Germany began to increase their submarine warfare in the Atlantic in 1917 Count Albrecht contacted his uncle in America to get his view. Albrecht himself was opposed to the action because, like many other Germans, he feared it would bring the USA into the war on the British side. They were right to have such fears. President Woodrow Wilson cut off all diplomatic relations with Germany and Ambassador Bernstorff was sent home.

Count Albrecht was horrified at the large number of casualties on both sides as World War I progressed, unlike his uncle. Although Albrecht can not be described as a pacifist he was certainly anti-war. That made his diplomatic roles even more important to him. During the Easter Rising and his uncle’s expulsion from America Albrecht was an attaché at the German embassy in Vienna. Later in 1917 he served in the German Foreign Office in Berlin. After that he assisted in peace negotiations with Romania. Between 1923 and 1933 Count Albrecht was appointed to the German embassy in London.

Count Albrecht von Bernstorff

It was during the formation of a government after the fall of the German monarchy in 1917 that Count Albrecht got to know the new Foreign Secretary, Wilhelm Solf. It is through this connection that Count Albrecht became a kind of German Scarlet Pimpernel during World War II. I gave a brief description of his wartime activities several years ago on Holocaust Memorial Day. Here I recount the circumstances of his arrest.

After Solf’s death his widow formed an informal resistance organisation called the Solf Circle to which Count Albrecht von Bernstorff belonged. Members of the Solf Circle met in September 1943 to celebrate a birthday. One guest was actually an undercover Gestapo agent and he encouraged an anti-Nazi discussion during the party. He reported what was said, and in some cases written down, to the Gestapo. The party guests were rounded up and sent to the Ravensbruck Concentration camp, one of whom was Count Albrecht.

Albrecht’s contribution to anti-Nazi resistance is commemorated with plaques in both London and Berlin. He is also commemorated with a memorial cross at his ancestral palace in Stintenburg.

Count Albrecht von Bernstorff’s diplomatic leanings began long before his appointment to Vienna in 1916. In 1909 he had been granted a Rhodes Scholarship to Oxford University. There he helped to form an Anglo-German debating society which was created with the intention of increasing ties between the two countries. Albrecht led the first debate, and at the end of his studies he gave a speech on behalf of the German Rhodes Scholars to Alfred Milner, 1st Viscount Milner. Milner was Governor of Cape Colony and knew personally the man after whom the Rhodes Scholarships are named, 5) Rt. Hon. Cecil Rhodes (1853-1902).

Next time we see how Cecil Rhodes has a link to ancient India.

License To Spy

Ssh! Keep it top secret. Today is Spy Wednesday. This is one of the many vanishing days of the religious calendar. It wasn’t named after the modern secret service but after the events leading up to Good Friday and Easter, specifically the day when Judas Iscariot chose to become a spy for the Pharisees. Very few Christian churches do anything special for Spy Wednesday any more, assuming they know it exists.

However, let’s celebrate Spy Wednesday in our own way and look at one of the most famous spies in fiction and the many queer angles that hide behind an outwardly very macho heterosexual man.

The name of that famous spy is Bond, James Bond. The character’s many female conquests, the masculinity of the actors who have played Bond, and the very heterosexual life of Bond’s creator Ian Fleming hide quite a few lgbt connections.

We’ll start where Bond started, in the novels.

James Bond may never have been created at all if it hadn’t been for a gay South African writer called William Plomer (1903-1973). Plomer’s 1926 novel “Turbott Wolfe” inspired the 18-year-old Ian Fleming to write a fan letter to him. They became friends, and in later years Plomer suggested that Fleming’s career in military intelligence would be a good source of material for thriller novels. In 1952 Fleming had finally written one and gave it to Plomer to read and get his opinion. That modest novel was called “Casino Royale”. Plomer himself was thrilled and fought hard to get his own publishers to publish it. They weren’t keen on thrillers, particularly one by an onknown author, but Plomer’s insistence proved fruitful as this first Bond novel became an instant best seller.

One of the central Bond characters is M, the head of MI6. Just like Bond himself this character is said to have been based on several real people. The man often put forward as the prime influence is the very real head of MI6, Sir Maurice Oldfield (1915-1981). Sir Maurice was anything but Establishment. He was a working-class farmer’s boy from Derbyshire who still went to the local pub even when he reached the top of the secret service ladder. He joined British Intelligence before World War II broke out, and by the age of 31 had received the MBE. His great-nephew, who recently wrote a biography of Sir Maurice, says he would never have come out publicly, it wasn’t his style. He was happy as he was.

The James Bond books became very popular very quickly and went through several editions in the first years of their publication. Most of the first editions had covers by a gay illustrator called Richard Chopping (1917-2008). Starting with “From Russia With Love” (above left) in 1957 Richard provided covers for the first editions of 9 Bond novels, as well as the 1981 first edition of the first post-Fleming novels “License Renewed” by John Gardner (above right). Richard corresponded regularly with Ian Fleming on aspects of his books covers.

 

Once the books became popular it was natural that they be turned into films. The first of these was “Dr. No” in 1962. I wonder if the film would have become such an international success if Ian Fleming’s own choice of actor to play the eponymous doctor had actually been cast. Fleming wanted his friend, the famous openly gay playwright, songwriter and actor Sir Noël Coward to play the role. Perhaps fortunately Noël replied to his friend’s suggestion with the words “No! No! No!” For me the film will now be remembered as “Dr. No! No! No!” Somehow I can’t picture Sir Noël as a Bond villain, and he may have upstaged the then unknown newcomer Sean Connery to such an extent that Connery would have been forgotten.

Following “Dr. No”s success it was just a short time before it was parodied. You may think that the 1967 film “Casino Royale” was the first James Bond parody, but it wasn’t. Less than a year after “Dr No”s release “Carry On Spying” went into production. With Dr. Crow substituted for Dr. No, and Charles Bind substituted for James Bond (the Bond film producers threatened legal action if the character was named James Bind) “Carry On Spying” was a homage to many film noir and spy films but was centred around a Bond theme, complete with exotic locations (all filmed at Pinewood Studios), a super villain and gadgets.

The campest of gay comedy actors were chosen to play the British spies, Kenneth Williams and Charles Hawtrey. The role of Dr. Crow went to Judith Furse, another great character actor who built a career by playing “battleaxes”. Her lesbianism was known within the film industry but not publicly revealed by colleagues until after her death.

“Carry On Spying” was released just after the second Bond film “From Russia With Love”, and the film poster below shows its obvious inspiration.

A myriad of other lgbt actors have appeared in the Bond films. These include Charles Gray as Blofeld, but let’s jump right up to date with the Daniel Craig films and the tech genius Q, played by openly gay actor Ben Whishaw. Whishaw has his own link to espionage and British Intelligence. His grandfather Jean Stellmacher was enlisted to spy for the intelligence service in World War II.

Following “Dr. No” and “From Russia With Love” was “Goldfinger” in 1964. The screenplay was co-written by gay writer Paul Dehn (1912-1976). Among his other screenplays was “Murder on the Orient Express”. The next lgbt writer for a Bond film was John Logan (b.1961). He wrote “Skyfall” and “Spectre” for Daniel Craig’s Bond and is currently working on the next. It was Logan who wrote sexually ambiguous dialogue between Bond and the villain.

Perhaps the most recognisable running theme throughout all the Bond films has been the Bond theme tune and title songs. Lionel Bart (1930-1999) is the first lgbt songwriter to contribute to a Bond theme, “From Russia With Love” (again!). The first singer-songwriter to perform a Bond theme was k d lang (b.1961). k d lang? I don't remember that, you might think, but yes, she was invited to write the theme for Pierce Brosnan’s Bond film “Tomorrow Never Dies”. Films often have several themes written for them and, unfortunately, k d lang’s song “Surrender” lost out to Sheryl Crow. However, k d lang and “Surrender” feature as the film’s closing theme.

Off the Bond themes, all of them achieving high positions in music charts, none won an Oscar until 2012. The theme song for “Spectre”, “Writing’s On The Wall”, was co-written by the openly gay singer Sam Smith. His acceptance speech at the Oscar ceremony, where he claimed to be the first openly gay Oscar winner, goes down as one of the most embarrassing moments in his career.

There are many other lgbt connections in the James Bond universe, both on screen and behind it, which would keep us here all day. For now I hope I’ve shown that James Bond, despite being a macho heterosexual legend, has some very gay contributors behind him.

[Expanded 24 May 2017. Revised 27 March 2018. More connections will appear in late 2018 as part of my "Around the World in Another 80 Gays" series in which I connect Bond to the election of the King of Poland and the 1984 Olympic Games opening ceremony]

Out Of Their Trees: A Report on the Wolfendens

For the first of this year’s themed articles I want to look at the family whose name was given to the parliamentary committee which paved the way for the Sexual Offences Act 1967. This Act partly decriminalised homosexual activity in England and Wales and was influenced by the recommendations made in the final report from that committee – the Wolfenden Report.

The chairman of the committee was John Wolfenden (1902-1985), at that time he was Vice-Chancellor of Reading University and later became Lord Wolfenden. I’ll give a full account of his report and the Sexual Offences Act in July. But for today I want to look at one aspect of his life which is not generally known and which surely had some influence on his opinion. John Wolfenden’s own son was gay.

Jeremy Wolfenden was born in 1934 He was the only son of John Wolfenden and his wife Eileen. Jeremy was open about his sexuality at Eton college. While he was working as the Daily Telegraph’s Moscow correspondent he found himself trapped between East and West double-espionage, having been blackmailed by both MI5 and the KGB into spying for them in return for the non-disclosure of his sexuality. Jeremy was later transferred to Washington DC where he died just after Christmas 1965.

Jeremy Wolfenden
(1934-1965)

Jeremy’s ancestry reveals large amount of legal heritage apart from his father’s contribution to the decriminalisation of homosexuality. Lord Wolfenden’s ancestry is very firmly based in Yorkshire. They were solid working-class folk who worked in the flour and cotton mills around Leeds and Halifax. Lord Wolfenden’s father George worked his way up from working class roots to become a college registrar to the local government education authority. It shows the fluidity of social mobility in England whereby George Wolfenden, a man whose father was a working-class cotton mill worker can have a son who went on to have a seat in the House of Lords.

George’s wife Emily Hannah Gawkroger (1880-1956) brings a personal link between myself and the Wolfendens. Even though I cannot find any conclusive information beyond her grandfather, Joseph Gawkroger of Sowerby near Halifax, there is little doubt that he belongs to the same family from which I, myself, descend (as do both Presidents Bush and lgbt Olympic swimmers Mark Chatfield and Susan Gray McGreivy).

Back to Jeremy Wolfenden. His mother, Lady Wolfenden, came from a different social background. She was born Eileen Le Messurier Spilsbury (1908-2004) and her ancestry could not be more varied. Her own mother was the English-born daughter of a Turkish merchant who became a naturalised British citizen in 1847.

The Spilsburys were no stranger to international geography. Eileen’s ancestor Thomas Spilsbury (1734-1795) was a member of a family of printers and engravers. Thomas’s younger brother John printed maps and is credited as the inventor of the jigsaw. In fact, the very first jigsaw was of Europe with all its nations as the interlocking pieces. On that jigsaw you can just make out the little island group which supplied the ancestry of Lady Wolfenden’s grandmother – the Channel Islands.

Lady Wolfenden’s grandmother was born Marie Susannah le Mesurier in Islington but her ancestors can be traced back for over a thousand years in Guernsey. The le Mesurier’s ancestors included highly influential people from the Saumarez, Dobree, Carye, Blondel, de Havilland and de Beauvoir families. These ancestors provided Lady Wolfenden and her son Jeremy with dozens of men who held legal offices across several of the Channel Islands. Dozens of them were appointed as jurats.

In the legal systems of Guernsey and Jersey a jurat is a judge of the royal court. The Channel Islands are not part of the UK (they are possessions of the crown, not the state) and aren’t subject to UK laws. In the time when Jeremy Wolfenden’s ancestor held these positions they were held for life (they aren’t today). Jurats didn’t need any official legal training. Their job was to determine just the facts of a legal case and make judgements on the advice of a qualified clerk or a presiding judge or island bailiff. The earliest ancestor of Jeremy Wolfenden I can find as a jurat is Guillaume de Beauvoir in the mid-1400s (incidentally, this is not the same family to which the French lgbt philosopher Simone de Beauvoir belongs).

Last year the UK celebrated the 950th anniversary of the Norman invasion of England in 1066. We should also celebrate the fact that the Channel Islands are the only part of the medieval duchy of Normandy which still belongs to the British crown. The heritage of a bloodline through the Channel Islands and their legacy within the islands’ legal system flowed down to Jeremy Wolfenden. Lord Wolfenden’s contribution to the sexual reform committee was surely influenced by the homosexuality of his son. History could have turned out very different if a less-than-enlightened chairman of the committee, one who had no known homosexual family member, had produced a report that didn’t reflect the changing attitudes to sexuality in the 1960s.

Spy Wednesday

What have the following people got in common? Casanova, Oscar Wilde, Dr Crippen, the Kray twins and Emmeline Pankhurst. Answer – they all stood behind the dock at Bow Street magistrate’s court accused for their crimes (not at the same time, of course). But what is their link to Nottingham? Answer – that dock from Bow Street is part of an exhibition at the Galleries of Justice in Nottingham which begins at the weekend.

But what about Spy Wednesday? What has that got to do with any of this? Well, today is Spy Wednesday, the day in the liturgical calendar of the Christian Church which marks the day Judas decided to betray Christ. And the link to everything else I’ve mentioned is that the Nottingham exhibition centres around a lesser-known individual who stood behind the Bow Street dock a century ago charged with espionage and treason. His name is Sir Roger Casement (1864-1916).

Roger Casement was born in Dublin into an Anglo-Irish family. In 1884 he worked with Henry Morton Stanley (later the "discoverer" of Dr. Livingstone) on a Belgian operation to take over power in the Congo Free State. At this time Roger believed that European colonialism was beneficial. His opinion changed when he retired from the British Colonial Office in 1912 (with a knighthood in reward for uncovering colonial slavery in the Amazon).

In 1913 he helped to form the Irish Volunteers, a leading pro-home rule organisation involved in the 1916 Easter Rising. This year is the centenary of the Easter Rising in which Irish patriots like Sir Roger Casement rebelled against British rule. It was a pivotal event in the fight for Irish independence and, depending on which side you were on at the time, they were either patriots or traitors.

At the time of the Easter Rising World War I had been raging for a couple of years. The “Irish Question”, as Irish home rule was described, had been pushed into the background in British politics, but not for the Irish Volunteers and other home rule and independence groups.

Sir Roger casement went to New York at the outbreak of World War I to meet a leading German diplomat to discuss a plan for Germany to supply arms secretly to the Irish Volunteers. The armed Easter Rising would, Sir Roger suggested, divert some British attention away from the continental war and help German strategy on the Western Front. The plan was approved in part and a secret shipment of arms left Germany for Dublin disguised as a Norwegian supply vessel.

British intelligence had intercepted various messages which hinted at the arms shipment and Sir Roger’s involvement. Royal Navy patrols intercepted the secret shipment on Good Friday, 21^st April 1916. Under escort the ship was taken to Cork but it was deliberately scuttled and sank off the coast. The crew became prisoners of war.

Sir Roger Casement was travelling in secret by submarine from Germany to Tralee Bay. On landing a recurrence of the malaria he contracted in the Congo prevented him from meeting the shipment. He had been on the British spy-watch radar since his first involvement with the Irish Volunteers but had escaped capture. Shortly after his meeting with the German diplomat in New York he had travelled in disguise to Germany. On a stop-over in Norway one of his travelling companion was offered a reward/bribe to disclose Sir Roger’s whereabouts.

Sir Roger was arrested shortly after arriving back in Ireland. He was charged with treason, sabotage and espionage against the Crown. He faced his charge at the dock at Bow Street magistrate’s court, soon to be on display in Nottingham, and sent to the Tower of London to await trial.

The Easter Rising took place on Easter Monday, 24^th April 1916. Around 1,200 Irish Volunteers and other rebel groups stormed various strategic buildings in Dublin. The British government immediately put the whole of Ireland under martial law. Troops were sent to crush the rebellion. One local connection I hadn’t realised until quite recently was that the troops sent to Dublin were from the Sherwood Foresters, a regiment based right here in Nottingham. For seven years I worked at Nottingham Castle where the regimental museum is housed and I don’t recall seeing any reference to the Easter Rising on display.

Much blood was spilt in the six days of the Easter Rising. Like Sir Roger Casement the leaders were charged with treason and over the next weeks most of them were executed by firing squad. Sir Roger was hanged on 3^rd August 1916.

To further blacken his reputation the British government circulated copies of pages from his “black diaries” which revealed details of his closeted gay life. Some doubt has been placed on the authenticity of the diaries themselves, but forensic examination hasn’t proved anything one way or the other.

The remains of Sir Roger casement were repatriated to Dublin in 1965 and he was given a state funeral. The British government at the time recognised his status of a knight even though his knighthood was cancelled in 1916.

Sir Roger remains a major hero of Irish nationalism to this day, as is evident from his being at the centre of an exhibition beginning at the weekend here in Nottingham.

Coded Lives : The Chevalier's Secret - Part 2

We return to one of the people I featured in one of this year’s “Coded Lives” series. In February I wrote about the secret life of Charles Geneviève Louis Auguste André Timothée Eon de Beaumont (1728-1810), thankfully better known by the shorter title of the Chevalier d’Eon.

That earlier article covered the Chevalier’s career as a spy and diplomat. Today we’ll look at his life after 1770 when another side of his life became more apparent, leading to a shift in the public perception of his personality. The seeds of this second life were set in the late 1750s. An apocryphal story of his time as a spy at the imperial Russian court, as mentioned in February’s article, tells how he disguised himself as a woman in order to get close to the empress. Whether this story is true or not, created in the 1770s when his actual gender was being questioned, it only enhances the enigmatic personality of this transgender pioneer.

The Chevalier was as much responsible for the enigma as anyone else. At various times during his life he claimed to have been born female. He claimed he was raised as a boy in order for his impoverished parents to receive an inheritance. This may be regarded as a coded reference to his sexuality rather than his gender, as dressing in the clothes of the opposite sex was illegal.

A dispute with the French government and the Chevalier’s publication of secret documents made him a well-known sensational figure in London where he was living at the time. The French, in return, started spreading the rumours about his gender and sexuality which he played on. London society was fascinated rather than shocked, and soon people were betting on the Stock Exchange on whether the Chevalier d’Eon was male or female. The Chevalier was undoubtedly of a less masculine character, as contemporary references to his appearance and body language attest. The Chevalier, in his typical enigmatic style, stormed into the Stock Exchange and challenged everyone to a duel before storming off again. Before leaving London for the countryside he declared he would never be party to any financial speculation on his gender – without ever confirming or denying what that gender was.

When King Louis XVI succeeded to the French throne in 1774 the actions and secret diplomatic knowledge the Chevalier possessed in his London lodgings became a security risk. It was decided to open negotiations with the Chevalier that would ensure his silence and return to France and the safeguard of state secrets.

The negotiated contract, which ran to 20 pages, included a clause which stated that the Chevalière (the feminine form he would use for the rest of her life) must never wear male attire again. There’s no evidence that she (as we’ll refer to her from this point) objected to this, though the king’s offer to fund a whole new wardrobe for him, and the use of Queen Marie Anoinette’s dress-makers, may have been a deciding factor. At least she could now say she was dressed like a queen.

The official sent to lead negotiations on behalf of the French government was to become captivated by this enigmatic ex-spy. He and the Chevalière created a mist of confusion by starting another rumour that they were to marry.

In 1777 the Chevalière returned to France. For a while she was feted in the fashionable and aristocratic drawing rooms of France. She acquired a celebrity status which suited her for a while. Eager to return to some semblance of her former espionage days she offered to fight in support of the American War of Independence. The offer was turned down.

By 1785 the Chevalière was running up debts on his London lodgings which he had been unable to visit since 1777. She was given leave to return, mainly because the lodgings contained the remaining secret documents of the French spy service and were on the verge of being sold off to pay the Chevalière’s debts.

The Chevalière was there for several years, sorting out her financial affairs. But the French Revolution robbed her of her royal pension and her family estates were seized. Living in London was very expensive, even in the 18^th century, and she had to earn an income. She turned to her celebrity status and skills with a sword and organised a hugely successful fending match against the champion swordsman of Europe. With the Prince of Wales and many of London’s high society in attendance the Chevalière beat the European champion in an event that would rival any world boxing title fight, or even the Battle of the Sexes, today.


The Chevalière’s famous duel in the presence of the Prince of Wales (the man in the big hat), a contemporary print of the event.

From then on the Chevalière toured the UK with a small band of swordsmen in a travelling show with herself as top billing. But it led to her swift decline.
In 1796, during a fencing match in which her opponent’s sword broke, the Chevalière was pierced badly in her side. She was virtually confined to her bed for two years and never recovered. With no more income her debts returned and she spent a few months in a debtor’s jail. Her few friends supported her, but it was a sad end to a spectacular life.

The swash-buckling former spy ended her days in the company of a widow called Mrs. Cole, whom she had met in 1795. Mrs. Cole was oblivious to the Chevalière’s enigmatic gender, even until the Chevalière’s death at the great age of 81.

Throughout her life the Chevalière d’Eon encouraged mystery. From her espionage days, through the years of the furore at the Stock Exchange, and though her last active life as a travelling entertainer, the Chevalière kept people guessing what secrets she was hiding. Secrets surrounded her right up to her death. It was only after a physical examination of her body to ascertain the cause of death was it finally revealed that the Chevalière d’Eon was indeed biologically male.

Around the World in 80 Gays : Part 17 - A Spy

LAST TIME : 48) Keith Tomlinson (b.1980) climbed Mount Elbrus in Russia, one of the 7 highest continental mountains (the Seven Summits), a mountaineering challenge completed by 49) Cason Crane (b.1992). A parallel challenge of running a marathon on each continent has been completed by 50) Todd J. Henry, an astronomer who searched for extra-terrestrial intelligence, a subject speculated upon in the 16^th century by 51) Giordano Bruno (1548-1600).

51) Giordano Bruno was one of the leading mathematicians of his age, though his controversial views on the multiple existence of Christ on alien worlds put him in the black books of scientists and the Church alike and led to his execution for heresy.

In 1591 he applied for the vacant professorship of mathematics at Padua University. He was unsuccessful. Instead the position went to an up-and-coming mathematician by the name of Galileo. But then Galileo had influential patrons who campaigned on his behalf him to the university, though they denied it. These patrons were the Del Monte brothers, one of whom was 52) Cardinal Francesco del Monte (1549-1627).

Cardinal del Monte was also an amateur mathematician like his brothers, and it was his eldest brother, the Marchese del Monte, who influenced Galileo’s work on trajectories. The Cardinal is most famous (apart from being the first recorded owner of the Portland vase) as the patron of another rising young star of the Renaissance, the artist Caravaggio, under his patronage he painted “The Cardsharps”.

After failing to get the professorship at Padua Giordano Bruno found himself increasingly at odds with both the Church and the authorities over his views. Very shortly afterwards he became the subject of the heresy trial that led to his execution.

It is Bruno’s two-year stay in England that leads us on to the most intriguing (in more ways than one) period of his life. In 1583 he arrived in London as a guest of the French ambassador to the court of Queen Elizabeth I. The ambassador had made many friends in London, a few of them from the world of the theatre as well as politics. It was probably at one of his many dinners that the ambassador introduced Giordano Bruno to 53) Christopher Marlowe (1564-1593).

I cannot bring Marlowe into the story without mentioning two things about him. The first is his role as a spy, the other we’ll come to later. The French ambassador was no stranger to espionage himself. As ambassador he was able to place French Catholic spies at Elizabeth’s Protestant court and, no doubt, knew who some of Elizabeth’s spies were. Perhaps he knew that Christopher Marlowe was a spy.

Marlowe was just one of many in the pay of Elizabeth’s spymaster Sir Francis Walsingham. He was employed for many years to spy on Catholic sympathisers and plotters. But the French ambassador probably didn’t know there was another spy living under his very nose.

When Giordano Bruno arrived there was a plot to assassinate Queen Elizabeth, invade England from Spain, and put Mary Queen of Scots on the throne. Plans for this were rather carelessly revealed during the after-dinner chat at the French ambassador’s residence. Walsingham was informed and the plotter executed for treason. Walsingham had a double agent working in the ambassador’s house called Henry Fagot. It has been revealed in recent years that Fagot was actually 51) Giordano Bruno.

The other thing to mention about 53) Christopher Marlowe is his often alleged authorship of some (or all) of the works of Shakespeare. While this is a subject of constant discussion and speculation there is evidence that one of Marlowe’s works influenced one of Shakespeare’s earliest plays.

Another famous writer often alleged to have written Shakespeare’s plays, or at least the ones written after Marlowe’s death was Sir Francis Bacon (1561-1626). He makes just a cameo appearance today because his brother, 54) Anthony Bacon (1558-1601), also worked in Walsingham’s spy ring. One intriguing theory put forward recently is that Christopher Marlowe faked his own death and that Anthony Bacon helped him to escape to France.

Back to Marlowe’s influence on Shakespeare. “Titus Andronicus” is one of the Bard’s early plays whose authorship has been questioned the most. It isn’t considered one of his best. T. S. Eliot called it “one of the stupidest and most uninspired plays ever written”. In that respect it can be said to have inspired a genre of film that is popular purely because it is just that.

“Titus Andronicus” was partly inspired by several Elizabethan revenge tragedies, one of which was called “Tambourline”, written by Christopher Marlowe. What marks “Titus” out is its violence and gore. It was very popular with Elizabethan audiences, and it still is. A recent production by The Globe even had people fainting in the audience because of the graphic nature of the modern stage effects of rape and mutilation. It’s all very reminiscent of the reports of audience reactions when “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre” was first released. And that’s the next connection in the chain (pardon the pun).

Modern slasher films and splatter movies are deliberately made to highlight the gore and horror and are not known for their strength of script or depth of character. Most characters are there purely to be disposed of in the most gruesome and entertaining manner possible. T. S. Eliot could have used his above-quoted remark to describe any slasher film. However, it is a genre with a distinguished history going back to “Titus Andronicus” and beyond and remains one of the greatest contributors to modern culture.

Even though there have been many lgbt characters in horror and slasher films over the years (the most famous being Norman Bates in “Psycho”), and there have been many lgbt horror writers, the genre didn’t really get a specifically gay slasher film until 2004 when “Hellbent” was released. The writer and director of that film was 55) Paul Etheredge.

When “80 Gays” returns in a couple of weeks we’ll discover what slasher films have in common with Wimbledon.

Coded Lives : 3 - The Chevalier's Secret

The main task of any code is to disguise the true meaning of things, to keep reality a secret, to keep people guessing. And no-one kept people guessing about his secrets more than the 18^th century individual known as the Chevalier d’Éon. But then, it was his job to keep secrets because he was a spy.

The Chevalier’s life is so full of intrigue and action that it easily qualifies for an “Extraordinary Life” article. Indeed, his life is so full of intrigue and action that I intend to write 2 articles on him. This, the first, deals with his life up to 1774, the year his spymaster, King Louis XV of France, died.

Born in 1728 into a family of the Burgundian minor nobility the Chevalier, baptised Charles Geneviève Louis Auguste André Timothée Éon de Beaumont, managed to gain the patronage of several influential noblemen in Paris. The most powerful of these was the king’s cousin, Prince Louis-François de Bourbon, Prince of Conti.

Europe at that time was almost constantly at war with itself. The Seven Years War began in 1756 and Charles d’Éon was chosen as an agent of the “Secret du Roi” by King Louis. This was a top, top, top secret organisation which even the French government didn’t know about. The agents spied for the king, and the king alone.

The Seven Years War can be regarded as the first “World War”. It pitted Britain against France in Europe, India, Africa and the Americas. The European campaigns relied on alliances between Austria and Prussia. Charles d’Éon was sent to the Russian court just before the start of the war to try to persuade the Empress Elizabeth to become an ally of France. The British had begun to patrol border crossings into Russia and only allowed women and children to cross into the empire. The apocryphal story often told is that Charles, disguised as a woman, managed to enter Russia, live with the Empress’s Maids of Honour and even become one of them. He successfully passed on a secret letter from King Louis to the Empress expressing the desire for a political alliance.

Whatever the facts about this first mission it seems d’Éon was trusted with a bigger mission to Russia the following year. This time he had an official government post as secretary to the French ambassador. In fact both men were working as agents of the Secret du Roi behind the French government’s back.

This time the secret mission was to persuade the Empress to give support to King Louis’s desire to put his cousin, the Prince of Conti, onto the throne of Poland (offered to him by a faction of Polish nobles). However, this mission failed and the Ambassador was recalled back to France.

Charles d’Éon found his power and influence increased when it became clear that the new ambassador, the Marquess de l’Hôpital, was inept and totally useless. Single-handedly d’Éon secured the Empress Elizabeth’s signature on the Treaty of Versailles in 1756, and secured the overthrow of the Russian Chancellor, a known supporter of Prussia. The Empress even offered d’Éon a job but, because he was a secret agent, turned it down.

D’Éon remained in Russia until 1760 when the aging Marquess was replaced by a younger ambassador. D’Éon had hoped to succeed the Marquess himself and decided his usefulness in Russia was over.

D’Éon served as a dragoon officer in several battles in the Seven Years War, and in 1762 was appointed to the delegation in London who negotiated the subsequent peace treaty. King Louis knighted him and from hence forward he was known as the Chevalier d’Éon. King George III even trusted him to carry the treaty to Versailles for King Louis to sign.

King George’s trust was misplaced. Still working as a spy the Chevalier was under orders to gather intelligence that would help King Louis of France invade England. Unfortunately, the king’s mistress, the Madame de Pompadour, discovered some of Louis’s secret files and had alerted the French government, who then tried to uncover the full extent of the Secret du Roi.

The Chevalier was now living in London as an official diplomat of the French court. The French government demanded his return, but King Louis sent secret orders for him to remain. After the French government branded him a traitor the Chevalier decided to publish selected documents and letters from his secret missions. The book caused a huge scandal. Forget Wikileaks, the Chevalier’s disclosures meant that both the French and British governments were wary of doing anything that would force him to reveal more.

King George III was wary of extraditing the Chevalier as the French government requested because of the fear he would reveal British secrets to the French. King Louis didn’t want him back for fear of him revealing French secrets to the British. However, putting on a show of solidarity with his government Louis signed an extradition order against d’Éon whilst secretly alerting him.

The Chevalier had now exposed his secret life as a spy and his diplomatic career was over. He lived in London as an exile for several more years, protected by his undisclosed secrets. Unfortunately, in 1774 his spymaster King Louis XV died, to be succeeded by Louis XVI who wasn’t interested in the Secret du Roi and wound down the organisation. The new king had a secret mission of his own, which was to see the return of the Chevalier d’Éon to France and his continued silence.

And so Charles, le Chevalier d’Éon returned to his homeland in 1777. There were several conditions. In return for a very nice pension the Chevalier had to keep his spy work secret forever, and he was to dress as a woman for the rest of his life.

That ends the tale of the Chevalier d’Éon for now. In November I’ll return with a look at his extraordinary life as a woman and try to uncover the mystery of his gender and sexuality.

The Reluctant Spy

A month ago today I told you about spies. Spies are still very much in the news at the moment with the mysterious death of Gareth Williams being investigated. I’m sure his equally mysterious obsession with women’s clothes will also be a matter of much debate in future years. At the time of his death Gareth was hoping to leave MI6 and return to GCHQ.

On 12^th April another spy died, this time naturally. He was Mark Frankland. He too was a somewhat reluctant spy, and his sexuality was not so grey as Gareth Williams’.

His espionage work for MI6 only lasted a year in the early 1960s, but it meant that wherever he went and whatever he did was seen as suspicious by both sides.

Here is his obituary from The Daily Telegraph.

Spy Wednesday

Everyone has heard of Good Friday. Most people have heard of Maundy Thursday. But how many have heard of Spy Wednesday? In medieval Ireland, today, the Wednesday before Easter Day, was called Spy Wednesday. It is named after incident in the Bible where Judas makes his bargain with the Sanhedrin to betray Christ.

For this and no other reason today I’m concentrating on espionage. In the 1960s homosexuality and spying was almost never out of the press, and tv, films and books were full of spies – James Bond, The Avengers, The Man from UNCLE. The Cambridge spy circle of Burgess, Philby and Maclean shocked the UK. What shocked the UK even more occurred in the 1980s when the “Fourth Man” was revealed as Anthony Blunt, the Keeper of the Queen’s Picture collection.

For as long as there’s been civilisation there’s been spies. Each generation finds a new rival to spy on. Way back in Tudor times it was Catholic versus Protestant. One Elizabethan spy was another Anthony – Anthony Bacon.

Anthony Bacon began his espionage career at the age of 21 providing intelligence reports from Paris to Queen Elizabeth I’s spy-master Sir Francis Walsingham. Elizabeth used Bacon as her unofficial contact with King Henri IV of Navarre, who was leader of the French Protestants, called Huguenots, during the Wars of Religion. France was a Catholic country, and Henri was the heir to the French throne.

Although welcomed at Navarre’s court, Bacon earned enemies such as the wife of Navarre’s chief counsellor. The reason? Well, apparently, it wasn’t the done thing for a woman to wear her wig in church, which the counsellor’s wife wanted to. Bacon refused to support her, though why she needed his support isn’t clear. Not only that, but he turned down the woman’s offer of her daughter’s hand in marriage.

It was at about this time that Bacon was accused of having sex with his page boys. This carried the death penalty if Bacon was found guilty. His page-boys made no secret to the fact amongst themselves, though one former servant claimed Bacon bribed the boys into keeping quiet by giving them with “sweatmeats”. Sounds more like they were little “thank you” gifts to me, certainly not much of a bribe. As it happened King Henri of Navarre interceded on Bacon’s behalf and the death sentence was never passed. All of this was kept secret from the spy-masters back in England.

Despite several requests from Queen Elizabeth to return home Anthony Bacon remained in France. When he did eventually return home in 1592 after more than 12 years Bacon’s reluctance to return earlier meant he was not well received. Even his own mother criticised him.

Hoping to benefit financially and politically from his spy connections Bacon found himself left with the unpaid job of co-ordinating England’s enormous European intelligence network and contacts for the Earl of Essex. Bacon would spend the rest of his life in debt and virtually living off Essex’s friendship with his former principal informer and lover Tom Lawson.

When Essex was convicted of high treason in 1601 Bacon disappeared from the records, except for one. On 17^th May 1601 Anthony Bacon was buried in London.

Until recently Anthony Bacon had existed in the shadow of his more famous (and undeniably much more interesting) younger brother Francis. The first biography of him was written in 1975 by Daphne du Maurier, and even then it was a shared biography with his brother. It was this biography that revealed Anthony Bacon’s intimate involvement with his page-boys. A lot of documents about him, including some from his trial, have disappeared. Most of what we know of him comes from the writings of people who knew him. Perhaps as a diligent spy Anthony Bacon destroyed anything that would lead a paper trail straight to him.