EVERY family has its black sheep, someone who brings shame upon their relations with their behaviour.

In most cases, they perhaps drink too much or indulge in petty crime.

In my case, they plotted to kill the Queen of England. And failed.

The black sheep in question is Anthony Babington, a young Catholic who kindly lent his name to the Babington Plot of 1586.

I can't boast to be a direct descendant of this traitorous scoundrel, who tried to assassinate Queen Elizabeth I. Nobody can, since his only child died when she was eight years old.

However, it only takes a few steps up and across the family tree to link our names.

I don't know if it's the right way to react when you discover you're the relative of a dangerous criminal, but I was always quite amused by it.

If nothing else, it was always a good story to tell down the pub, and it's not as if I'm the son of the Yorkshire Ripper or anything.

I became less impressed with the connection when I looked into the plot in slightly more depth.

By all accounts, young Anthony seems to have been something of a blithering idiot, a romantic fool with all the plotting skills of Baldrick from Blackadder.

The situation that led to the plot shows just how exciting the Royal Family used to be.

Where now we just have Prince Phillip making the odd risqu comment, in the 16th Century we had Queen Elizabeth I imprisoning her cousin, Mary Queen of Scots, for 18 years.

Many Catholics regarded Mary as the legitimate Queen of England, but the prospect of a Catholic succession did not appeal to Elizabeth or her ministers.

Elizabeth did what anyone would have done in the circumstances, and placed Mary under arrest.

Admittedly, she was also facing threats from France and Spain at the time, and the last thing she needed was grief from her family.

She did, however, draw the line at executing Mary, which annoyed her bloodthirsty ministers.

Her Principal Secretary, Sir Francis Walsingham harboured a particularly intense hatred for Mary, and devoted much of his time to finding reasons for executing her.

Walsingham become increasingly frustrated by his Queen's reluctance to kill her cousin, and took it upon himself to make her execution unavoidable.

Displaying cunning that a Labour spin doctor would be proud of, he moved Mary to the home of the Earl of Essex in Chartley to gain complete control of her.

He then collared Gilbert Gifford, an English Catholic exile and spy, and convinced him to be a double agent.

The pair devised a new way of correspondence for Mary that could be intercepted but would appear secure to her and her supporters.

The captive Queen had not received any letters for more than a year, and was delighted to hear from the outside world again.

Plots quickly arose as letters were exchanged. There are various versions of what happened next - some believe that Walsingham encouraged the conspirators to incriminate themselves, while others believe that Catholic priest John Ballard was the main mover in the proceedings.

Ballard was among the Catholic priests who were sent to England as part of the Catholic missionary efforts.

After speaking to the Catholic faithful, Ballard felt that they would be prepared to launch an attack on Elizabeth if they were supported by troops from the continent.

He returned to meet his European contacts, and was assured of support from Spanish, French and Italian forces.

The priest then rushed back to England, and found a man to lead the English Catholics. That man was Anthony Babington.

Although Babington was initially wary, after discussion with friends, he agreed to head the plot.

Unfortunately for him, Walsingham was well aware that a plot was hatching.

Gifford was spying on Ballard and Babington, as well as a certain Thomas Morgan, Mary's personal agent in Paris.

Crucially, Morgan wrote to Mary to tell her about Babington. The letter was intercepted, as was Mary's letter to the plot leader, in which she said she would be grateful for his help to escape.

The eager plotter then laid out his cards on the table and revealed his plans in detail to Mary, seemingly oblivious to the risks of such a plot.

"Myself with 10 gentlemen and a hundred of our followers will undertake the delivery of your royal person from the hands of your enemies," he wrote.

Another six men would be sent to assassinate Elizabeth, he explained. All this was music to Walsingham's ears, as he gathered the incriminating evidence.

Babington was already a dead man to all intents and purposes, but Walsingham needed Mary to fully take the bait.

This she did, providing the final nail for her coffin with a reply to Babington supporting his plot.

As Walsingham prepared to pounce, the plotters realised they had been rumbled and Babington fled. He was arrested 10 days later.

Elizabeth ordered the deaths of Babington, Ballard and five other plotters, displaying a bloodlust of which Uday Hussein would have been proud.

The Queen decreed that the men should be subjected to an unusually drawn-out ordeal.

Rather than being given a straightforward execution, the men were first disembowelled and their internal organs burnt before their eyes. They were then hanged.

To cap a stunningly botched plot, Mary was then also accused of treason and beheaded, despite opposition from Elizabeth.

All in all, Anthony Babington isn't exactly an ancestor to be proud of, and we've tried not to take after him.

My father is also called Anthony, but his only brush with the law is a speeding offence.

For my part, while I'm not a fan of the monarchy, I've no plans to bring down Queen Elizabeth II.

And if I had, I wouldn't write about it like my hapless ancestor.