Much of the serious work on her life and historical importance has never been translated from German, and almost all has concentrated on the years of her struggle with Stephen for the English crown. This book examines her career as a whole, including the years as consort of the Emperor Henry V and as regent in Normandy for her son Henry II. It illustrates the problems of female succession in the early twelfth century, and gives a balanced assessment of Matilda's character and achievements in the context of her own times.

    And nobody thought he knew Philby like Nicholas Elliott, Philby’s best friend and fellow officer in MI6. The two men had gone to the same schools, belonged to the same exclusive clubs, grown close through the crucible of wartime intelligence work and long nights of drink and revelry. It was madness for one to think the other might be a communist spy, bent on subverting Western values and the power of the free world.But Philby was secretly betraying his friend. Every word Elliott breathed to Philby was transmitted back to Moscow—and not just Elliott’s words, for in America, Philby had made another powerful friend: James Jesus Angleton, the crafty, paranoid head of CIA counterintelligence. Angleton's and Elliott’s unwitting disclosures helped Philby sink almost every important Anglo-American spy operation for twenty years, leading countless operatives to their doom. Even as the web of suspicion closed around him, and Philby was driven to greater lies to protect his cover, his two friends never abandoned him—until it was too late. The stunning truth of his betrayal would have devastating consequences on the two men who thought they knew him best, and on the intelligence services he left crippled in his wake.Told with heart-pounding suspense and keen psychological insight, and based on personal papers and never-before-seen British intelligence files, A Spy Among Friends is Ben Macintyre’s best book yet, a high-water mark in Cold War history telling.

    Later interpretations see him as a potent symbol of Nazi aggression in World War II, fired partly by Murnau's Nosferatu of the 1920s and the blood rites of the Aryans. But who was the real man who inspired the Dracula legend? Was he as gruesome as legend depicts, or, as some Romanians, refuting the popular image, suggest, an heroic 15th-century warrior and freedom fighter? Or is his reputation as a bloodthirsty mass-murderer, who sadistically impaled his victims, justified? In this title, the author peels back the layers of myth and history to reveal the 15th-century figure who was the real Vlad the Impaler.