Book Review: Her Majesty's Spymaster: Elizabeth I, Sir Francis Walsingham, and the Birth of Modern Espionage by Stephen Budiansky

Overall rating: ★★☆☆☆ (2.5 out of 5 stars)

After several engaging non-fiction reads I had the chance to enjoy this year - reviews can be found by following the links - I approached Stephen Budiansky's Her Majesty's Spymaster: Elizabeth I, Sir Francis Walsingham, and the Birth of Modern Espionage with a sense of anticipation. The premise – learning about the life of Queen Elizabeth I's principal secretary and England's first spymaster, particularly for someone with an interest in both espionage and history – seemed promising. In fact, the subtitle itself, "the Birth of Modern Espionage," raised expectations of a deep dive into the evolution of intelligence gathering under Walsingham's guidance. However, my experience with this book was disappointing, and notably, this central theme felt underexplored.

An Unexpected Detour in France

The book opens by focusing on Francis Walsingham's time as the English ambassador in France, notably highlighting the tumultuous events of the St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre. While the intention was clearly to provide immediate context for the complex political landscape Walsingham navigated, I personally found myself craving a broader introduction to the key players and the existing power dynamics before diving into this specific event. This actually sparked a greater curiosity in Catherine de Medici rather than immediately drawing me into Walsingham's narrative.

Financial Insights and a Swift Appointment

Budiansky then moved on to explore Walsingham's personal financial struggles, which offered an interesting, albeit perhaps unexpected, glimpse into the social realities of the time. However, the subsequent transition to Walsingham's appointment as Principal Secretary felt somewhat abrupt. From this point, the narrative seemed to heavily emphasize Walsingham's relentless pursuit of Mary Queen of Scots' execution.

Where Was the "Birth of Modern Espionage"?

While this was a pivotal aspect of Walsingham's career, I found myself yearning for a more in-depth exploration of the intricacies of his spycraft. While the author does attempt to shed light on Walsingham's methods – his use of double agents, disinformation, and code-breaking – these explanations felt somewhat superficial and, for me, didn't quite bring the innovative nature of his espionage to life in a compelling way. I was particularly hoping to see a more thorough examination of how these techniques were truly groundbreaking and laid the groundwork for modern espionage, a promise the title seemed to make but didn't fully deliver on.

A Notable Absence: William Cecil

Furthermore, while perhaps I missed it, there also seemed to be a notable absence of significant discussion surrounding William Cecil. Given Cecil's later importance in the realm of espionage and the historical understanding that Walsingham himself trained him, this omission felt like a missed opportunity to further illuminate the development of England's intelligence network.

An Abrupt Ending

Finally, the book's conclusion felt rather abrupt, leaving me with a sense of unfinished business. The straightforward recounting of Walsingham's death lacked the reflective depth I often appreciate in historical biographies.

Final Thoughts

Ultimately, while Her Majesty's Spymaster touches upon a fascinating historical figure and a pivotal period in the development of espionage, it didn't fully capture my interest in the way I had hoped. The promised exploration of the "birth of modern espionage" felt underdeveloped, and the lack of focus on key figures like William Cecil was disappointing.

While this wasn't the book for me, every reading experience offers something. In this case, it has unexpectedly ignited a desire to learn more about the enigmatic 'Black Queen' of France, Catherine de Medici. So, perhaps not a complete loss after all - but not a recommendation either.