The Stars, Medicine and Mathematics
in Elizabethan
England
By Paul Walker
After
many false starts, astrology became a focus for my first work of historical
fiction – State of Treason. William
Constable is a scholar and competent in all three areas listed in the title of
this post. I should declare now that, unlike our hero, I hold no faith in
astrology.
Astrology
had a significant influence as a way of explaining and controlling the life of
Elizabethans. Natal astrology was used to examine and predict events based on a
birth chart. Medical astrology was used to determine an individual's weakness,
diagnose illness, and prescribe cures. It was a prerequisite to healing and
taught in every major university. It was not always clearly distinguished from
astronomy, which described the motion
of the stars and their influence on tides, weather and navigation.
Expertise in astrology is the declared reason
for William’s summons to Sir Francis Walsingham. He also has a reputation as a
mathematician, surveyor of the movement of the stars and their use in the
navigation of ships. He uses the latter skill as an excuse to meet with a group
of men who plan an ambitious adventure to the New Lands and raids on Spanish
treasure ships. He does this as an unwilling investigator into a conspiracy
that threatens the state.
The art of navigation developed rapidly in
the sixteenth century in response to explorers who needed to find their
positions without landmarks. Instruments were used to determine latitude, but
longitude required accurate timepieces and these were not yet available. A
cross staff was in common use in the mid sixteenth century to calculate
latitude. The major problem with this was that the observer had to look in two
directions at once - along the bottom of the transom to the horizon and along
the top of the transom to the sun or the star. A more advanced
instrument was the Davis Quadrant or backstaff. One of the major advantages of
the backstaff over the cross-staff was that the navigator had to look in only
one direction to take the sight - through the slit in the horizon vane to the
horizon while simultaneously aligning the shadow of the shadow vane with the
slit in the horizon vane. The shadow staff in the book, invented by William, is
an imagined forerunner of the backstaff.
Enough of the background – now to the writing. Weaving real
characters and events into the plot was the first challenge. Walsingham was
always going to play a part as Elizabeth’s spymaster. John Dee was a
fascinating character whose expertise in astrology and mathematics made him a
natural, if unseen, foil for William as his estranged mentor. I took particular
delight in incorporating John Foxe as a character who forms an unlikely
friendship with William. A renowned Puritan and author of Book of Martyrs (a bestseller at the time), Foxe was also thought
to have a kindly and forgiving manner. I came to John Hawkins and Humphrey
Gilbert, famous privateers and explorers, later in plot development to
complement William’s invention of a navigation instrument for ships. Hawkins
was rewarded for his aid in uncovering the ‘Ridolfi Plot’ against Elizabeth.
Some questions remain about the true nature of his part in this affair and his
continued friendship with the Spanish Ambassador.
A recent blog post by Annie Whitehead
considered how to write convincing dialogue for her novels set in Anglo-Saxon
England. You can read it HERE!
She makes a convincing case for a compromise between true Old English and
modern understanding. So it was with State of Treason. I wanted to create prose
and dialogue, which captures the essence of authentic Elizabethan life without
disturbing the reader’s flow and the need for a glossary. After a few
experiments I found that this came most naturally by writing first person in
the historic present. Time, readership and feedback will tell if I have
succeeded in the attempt.
State of Treason
By Paul Walker
William Constable
is a scholar of mathematics, astrology and practices as a physician. He
receives an unexpected summons to the Queen’s
spymaster, Sir Francis Walsingham in the middle of the night. He fears for his
life when he spies the tortured body of an old friend in the palace precincts.
His meeting with Walsingham takes an unexpected turn when he is charged to
assist a renowned Puritan, John Foxe, in uncovering the secrets of a mysterious
cabinet containing an astrological chart and coded message. Together, these
claim Elizabeth has a hidden, illegitimate child (an “unknowing maid”) who will
be declared to the masses and serve as the focus for an invasion.
Constable is swept
up in the chase to uncover the identity of the plotters, unaware that he is
also under suspicion. He schemes to gain the confidence of the adventurer John
Hawkins and a rich merchant. Pressured into taking a role as court physician to
pick up unguarded comments from nobles and others, he has become a reluctant
intelligencer for Walsingham.
Do the stars and
cipher speak true, or is there some other malign intent in the complex web of
scheming?
Constable must
race to unravel the threads of political manoeuvring for power before a
new-found love and perhaps his own life are forfeit.
Excerpt
This short excerpt is the
first occasion when our hero, William Constable, has a meeting with Helen
Morton that goes beyond formal exchanges. He is investigating the claims from a
cipher held by Sir Francis Walsingham that the Queen has a hidden illegitimate
child. Helen is a herbalist and William uses the examination of a possible cure
for his mother’s illness as an excuse for conversation.
When we have
eaten our fill, I ask John if he would like to accompany us to my room of
medicines. He demurs and says he will rest before further study. The chamber is
small and compares badly with the drying room at the Morton’s.
Helen says, ‘As
to your mother, we are of one mind; her trouble is a blockage in the belly,
which may harden her stools and hinder their passing.’
‘You are direct
in your assessment. I had thought the same, but her discomfort began more than
thirty days past and she has had some relief, although the stools were
compacted. Do you discount a malign growth in her middle?’
‘The possibility
should not be ignored, but we would suggest a curative for a more compliant
blockage before further causes are considered. Your mother has not passed
stools for seven days and that is too long a delay.’
She has a
confidence and frankness that is both appealing and bothersome. My talent as a
physician is questioned by a young woman, but I must remember that I have other
reasons not to dismiss her advice. Besides, am I too proud to admit she may be
correct? The health of my mother is at stake and I should be grateful for
another opinion, no matter the source.
I say, ‘I have
treated her with rhubarb root and ginger, would that not provide relief?’
‘In mild cases
it may be sufficient. Rosamund is of the opinion that your mother requires a
more robust remedy. There is a better solution, but we must retrieve this from
our drying room. We have a consignment of dried plums from France, which
Rosamund swears will offer the quickest relief. A dozen of these should be
taken each day, with two pints of small beer.’
I note that
Rosamund has fallen asleep in her chair. Her head is slumped at an awkward
angle. I suggest we move her to an easier position, but Helen says she often
dozes in this fashion. I have not heard of dried plums as the essence of a
curative for blockages, but I thank her and make an arrangement to call for
them the next day. I have no great hope for Rosamund’s advice, but calculate
that they could do little harm, and I will continue with the rhubarb and ginger
as a companion treatment. I ask Helen if she would like to examine the books on
herbs and medicines in my library. She glances at the sleeping figure and
hesitates before murmuring her assent.
I leave the door
to my library chamber open to avoid any claim of impropriety. She gazes around
the tables and shelving, then picks idly at the books and papers as she
wanders.
‘You are a
strange man, William Constable. I would not have expected a friendship with
Doctor Foxe, who is noted for his fierce views on religion.’
‘Nor I, lady,
but as you will have noted, he is not forceful in his opinions and has a quick
mind on more mundane subjects.’
She agrees that
he was pleasant company at the table and appears to have a kindly nature. She
holds the corner of a chart and wrinkles her nose. ‘Do you find these star
charts are helpful with your treatments?’
‘They are in
many cases, but I do not hold fast to the belief that astrological charts show
the entire truth about the nature and inclinations of a person. I have a
fascination with the skies and study them so that we may also know our place on
this earth.’
She says, ‘Have
you cast a chart for Doctor Foxe?’
‘No, that would
stray too far from his puritanical beliefs, although he does not dismiss their
use out of hand.’ I pause then add, ‘Would you like me to draw a chart for you?
It would be harmless and you could regard it as an entertainment.’
She widens her
eyes, then purses her lips. She turns her back on me and walks to the far
corners of the chamber, feigning interest in the books and charts. When her thinking
is finished she faces me and clasps her hands in front of her skirts.
‘I will ask my
father. It would be improper to do this work without his blessing.’
‘Of course, my
lady. I will seek permission from your father when I call at your house for the
dried plums.’ It seems that her high spirits and directness are joined with
practical sense in knowing the bounds in behaviour that should be observed.
‘May I know your date and place of birth so that I may prepare an outline of
the work?’
Her nose wrinkles
again. It could be a sign that she disapproves or that she is considering my
request. Whichever, I begin to find this mannerism… appealing.
She says. ‘I
suppose it would not hurt. It was the seventh day of August in the sixtieth
year. The place was Maldon in Essex. I am told that my mother retreated from
the plague in the city for her confinement.’
There is a lurch
in my middle and my skin prickles. I hope that this does not signify a
reddening in my face. The date matches the one on the captured natal chart, but
this cannot be… She talks of her mother’s confinement. My intention was to
dismiss a small, nagging thought and now I am faced with magnified complexity.
Is it coincidence, or could Helen be the ‘unknowing maid’?
‘Is something
amiss, William?’
‘No… no, lady.’
I stammer and must guard against unnatural behaviour. She has called me by my
given name and I wonder if this is a sign of growing trust. ‘May I call you
Helen in return?’ She bobs her head and smiles her agreement. I continue, ‘I
was contemplating the remedy of dried plums. I have not read of such a cure for
blocked innards.’
‘It is in no
book or paper that I have read. Rosamund had it from a goodwife in Finsbury
Fields and it has been tried with some success.’ She pauses and eyes me with
curiosity. ‘You have an open mind, William, and it does you credit. I was
anticipating that you would deny an unusual remedy not known to you because of
your superior standing as a physician.’
My surprise at
the revelation of Helen’s birth date is soon forgotten as we exchange stories
of our younger days, our education and the loss of a parent. Our discussions
flow freely and it is plain that we both find enjoyment in each other’s
company. She was close to her mother and loved her well, but she was sickly for
as long as Helen could remember and often confined to her bed. I sympathise and
probe a little until I learn that her mother was two years younger than her
father. She would have been aged thirty-eight years at the time of Helen’s
birth, and while this is not past child-bearing, it would be a rare age for a
first child. My conversation with Helen is overlong and Mistress Hilliard comes
with a message from her escort to say that she must leave before the light
fades. I am resigned to conducting further examinations of Helen’s history and
a sense of guilt at my subterfuge is mixed with pleasure at the thought of more
time in her company.
Giveaway
*Giveaway is now closed.
*Giveaway is now closed.
Paul Walker is
giving away 4 kindle copies of
State of
Treason.
All you need to do is answer this question
Imagine that you are
the young daughter of a titled, wealthy merchant in Elizabethan London. You are
at dinner with a small group of people of similar status. A young man pays you
particular attention and obviously fancies you. How would you reply to his compliment?
‘This is a fine
syllabub, but I will wager its taste cannot compare to the sweetness of your
lips.’
Leave your answer in the comments at the bottom of this post.
Giveaway Rules
• Leave your answer in the comments at the bottom of this
post.
• Giveaway ends at 11:59pm BST on July 23rd.
• You must be 18 or older to enter.
• Giveaway is only open to continental United Kingdom only.
Only one entry
per household.
• All giveaway entrants agree to be honest and not cheat the systems;
any suspect of fraud is decided upon by blog/site owner and the sponsor, and
entrants may be disqualified at our discretion.
•Winners will be announced in the comments.
• Winner has 48 hours to claim prize or new winner is chosen.
The Coffee Pot Book Club
★★★★★
Highly Recommended
Read the full review
Pick up your copy of
State of Treason
Paul
Walker
Paul
Walker inherited his love of British history and historical fiction from his
mother who was an active member of the Richard III Society.
State
of Treason is the first in a planned series of Elizabethan spy thrillers. The
plot is based around real characters and events in London of the 1570’s. The
hero, William Constable, is an astrologer and also a sceptic. He is also a
mathematician, astronomer and inventor of a navigational aid for ships. The
distinction between astrology and astronomy was blurred in the sixteenth
century.
The
second book in the series will be published in October 2019.
Paul
is married and lives in a village 30 miles north of London. Having worked in a
number of universities and run his own business, he now divides his time
between non-executive work for an educational trust and writing fiction. His
writing is regularly disrupted by children and a growing number of
grandchildren and dogs.
