The house of Doctor Dee

by Peter Ackroyd

  Curiously enough, when I returned to the table I was smiling. 'Tell me, Daniel. Did he wear women's clothes as well?'

  'Oh no.' He seemed almost offended at the suggestion. 'But he liked me to wear them. Around the house.'

  I had heard enough. Now I understood the reason he had bought the property in Cloak Lane — it was the perfect cover for his sexual activities. There had never been any reason for him to divorce my mother, because she also had acted as a form of camouflage. But perhaps she had realized this all the time; that was why she remained so angry with him, even after his death. Perhaps she also suspected that my father had left me everything because I was in some way involved — but that was too hard a thought to bear. The whole of my past life had shifted now, and in these few moments had acquired a different shape. It seemed as if I must approach my own history as I approached the history of other centuries. 'Did he ever mention Doctor Dee?' was all I could think of asking him.

  'Not as far as I remember.' We had both now assumed our customary manner and tone, as if we were trying somehow to reassure each other that nothing essentially had changed. He ate his food very quickly, stuffing it into his mouth and swallowing it voraciously. 'But he did say that there was something special about the house. He thought that something had once happened there, and he wanted to restore it. Or relive it. I'm not sure what he meant. But that was why — ' Once more he hesitated.

  'It's a little late to keep any secrets.'

  'He believed in something called sexual magic. He believed that you could raise spirits by practising, well, certain things.'

  'And did he?'

  'Did he?'

  'Did he raise the spirits?'

  'Of course not.'

  So here was another truth with which I had to become reconciled. My father had practised magic in Cloak Lane, in the vain hope of conjuring up the ghosts of the past; that, at least, seemed to be the substance of Daniel's confession to me. He had performed some kind of sexual rite for the sole purpose of finding something which, he believed, still resided within the house. Could it be connected with his speculations about the homunculus? There were dark passages and corners here which I did not want to explore. In any case he should have known something I was now beginning to understand from my knowledge of John Dee: only love can restore life. The rest is illusion, and trickery, and nonsense.

  'I never believed any of it,' Daniel was saying now, as some spaghetti was placed in front of us. I stared down at the white threads with something like horror. 'Some historians say that radicalism and occultism were related to each other, but I think it was only an act of despair. It was a way of pretending to have some secret force at your command, of imagining you had a form of power which could destroy the established powers. But occultism is really a refuge for the weak and the desperate. It's radicalism gone sour.'

  'But my father was never weak.'

  'No. He wasn't weak. Most occultists work in groups — it helps to bolster their confidence. But your father was different. He was quite alone. And he really believed that he had come upon a secret truth. It was as if it were some kind of inheritance.'

  There was a meaning in all this which alarmed me. 'Did he ever mention me?'

  'All the time.'

  'Not when —'

  'No. We remained friends, after we ceased to be lovers. He had a great passion for the past, you see. Just like you. He was always interested in what I was doing. Funnily enough, he was the one who led me to the Moravians. He found those meeting-places we visited. Do you remember?'

  'Yes. I remember.' My father was coming too close to me, and it filled me with fear. I ordered some more wine, while Daniel tightened the knot of his tie again.

  'There's something else I have to tell you, Matthew.'

  'Oh God.'

  'We didn't meet by accident.' The wine had come, and I started drinking heavily again. 'About two years ago, your father realized that he had contracted cancer. That's when he asked me to watch over you. He said that you were very special.'

  'Special?'

  'He said that you were unique. And of course you are. He just didn't want you to come to any harm. He told me what libraries you used, and it was easy enough to arrange an encounter. We share the same interests, after all, and London can be a very small city.' He stopped suddenly, trying to observe my reaction; but he could see none. 'I hope you don't think I'm a very dreadful person. We did become friends, after all.'

  We had come to the end of our meal, as far as I was concerned, but it was still so early that the restaurant was almost empty. A young man and woman were sitting close together in a corner of the room, and I had already noticed that they were whispering intently. I strained to hear what they were saying, but all I could make out were stray angry words — 'worm', 'bitch', 'cow'.

  'I'm sorry,' I said to Daniel. 'I really can't put up with this any longer.' I left the table, and went over to them. They looked at me in alarm. 'Why don't you fucking keep quiet?' I whispered, just as they had whispered. 'Do you hear me? Shut your fucking mouths.' Then I returned to Daniel. 'And that reminds me, my darling. I must get back to the house.'

  I left him at once, and as I looked into the window I was pleased to see him bewildered and unhappy. I was no longer aware of any particular sensation as I walked back to Cloak Lane, and instead I began repeating the words of a song I had heard that morning as I sat in the old house. I think it was called 'Fortune, My Foe', but I could not be absolutely sure. I passed the churchyard and then, feeling the need to piss after so much wine, I jumped across the stone wall and urinated on one of the gravestones. Something moved beside it, and after I had zipped up my trousers I stamped on it with my foot. I felt as if I were knocking upon an open door.

  THE ABBEY

  I HEAR SOMEONE knocking at my door,' I said to my servant, Philip Fox. 'See who it is.'

  He hastened down the stairs, where I heard him talking to my wife's servant.

  'Audrey, where are the keys?'

  'They hang on the nail behind the door, where they are always to be found.'

  'They are not! They are not here!' All the while there was a continual knocking, which was enough to wake the dead; I found myself musing upon my father's old dog, when the sound of Philip's voice roused me. 'Who may be there?'

  'A friend, I hope. Open the door, since it rains so hard. I have come for Doctor Dee.' These words terrified me for an instant, and I rose from my chair.

  'What is your pleasure? Who shall I say asks for him?'

  'Tell him that it is one who was lately apprenticed to a good friend.'

  'Come in, sir.' I heard the unlocking and unbolting of the door, and then some more hurried words. 'Sir,' Philip called to me. 'There is a gentleman here who would speak to you.'

  'Cause him to come up. No, wait. I will come down.' I wanted no stranger to see me at my work and, further, I much doubted who it was that enquired for me. I put on my gown and, with some trembling, went downstairs to greet him. Yet it was nothing but a spruce sprightly fellow, and I swallowed my fears as I approached him. 'You are welcome,' I said. 'How do you?'

  'Well, sir, by God's grace.'

  'And how might I call you?'

  'Kelley, sir. Edward Kelley. For seven years I was apprenticed to Ferdinand Griffen, who often spoke of you.'

  'I knew him well. I have not seen him these last twenty years, but there were many times he did me the turn of a good friend. How does he do?'

  'He is dead, sir, of a cancer in the breast.'

  'I am sorry to hear of it. Yet he must have been a pretty aged man.'

  'True, sir, very true. But before he died, he begged me to make acquaintance with you.'

  This Kelley was wearing a jerkin of well-padded leather and a short cloak in the Spanish fashion; now, as he was giving me this great courtesy, I could see the rain soaking into his apparel. 'Come dry yourself in my chamber,' I said to him. 'You are wet through. Philip, go fetch some more wood and make a good fire. Bring up a bushel o
f coals, too, so that Mr Kelley may thoroughly warm himself.' I invited him to climb the stairs and, as I followed him, I could smell strong drink upon his breath; he was a young man, no more than twenty-two or twenty-three years, of small stature and with a red beard cut like his cloak in the Spanish fashion. He had a great mane of red hair which, as I pressed close upon his heels, I could see to be oiled and perfumed. Here was a gallant gentleman indeed, yet for the sake of Ferdinand Griffen I was civil enough to him. 'Sit down beside the fire,' I said as I entered my chamber, 'and tell me of my old master in art.'

  'He reverenced you, sir, as one of the order of Inspirati.'

  'No, no, it is nothing. Nothing at all.' I did not want him to come too close to my pursuits. 'If it had not been for his faithful and diligent care, I would never have reached the first step in skill or power. There was never an untrue action, nor an imperfection, in any of his practices.'

  'Yes, sir. Truly he was a great magician.'

  'I did not say that,' I added hastily. 'Mr Griffen was a philosopher when I shared his lodgings and worked with him.'

  'But many philosophers are certainly great magicians. Is that not so, Doctor Dee?'

  I saw now that he was no mere roaring boy, and I suspected that he might be some agent sent to inform against me. 'I suppose that there may be some secret philosophy,' I continued, 'but, for me, it is a thing not in the air.'

  'And a secret knowledge of nature?'

  'Well, that may be, that may be.' Now I thought to test him, as Philip came up with the coals. 'But tell me, what was his work in these last days?'

  He looked at me strangely. 'We had travelled to Glastonbury, sir, about a month ago.'

  'Truly? Why so?'

  'Oh…' He seemed unwilling to speak. 'There is a time when such things can be spoken of, but —'

  This made me prick up my ears (as they say), but I resolved to keep my own counsel and await the occasion: I knew well enough that Glastonbury was the most ancient seat of learning in the entire kingdom, where, it is said, the giants who originally inhabited this realm had placed their secrets. 'You have come suddenly upon me,' I continued, smiling, 'but perhaps you will stay for a scholar's collation? It is plain food, but I hope you will take it in good part.'

  'With all my heart, Doctor Dee. What do they say? Talk after meat is best?'

  'Yes. That is what they say.'

  And so we went down, where Philip was already preparing the board. My wife meantime was busy about the basins and towels, but gave acknowledgement to Mr Kelley's bow and answered his questions boldly enough. Yet it was all tittle-tattle, and soon I had endured enough of it. 'Rinse the glass, mistress,' I said to her, 'that I may taste the wine.' It was a Flemish grape, and somewhat sharp on the tongue; but I love bitter fruit, and supped it up willingly. 'How do you like this wine?' I asked our guest.

  'I like it very well.'

  My wife laughed at this, and I turned upon her. 'Why do you laugh, mistress?'

  'Why? The face of our guest was plain to see when he tasted it. You are not a subtle fellow, Mr Kelley. You cannot deceive us that you like our wine.'

  'No, madam, no. You imagine evil where there is only goodness.' He spoke in a railing sort, which seemed to please her. 'The wine delights me. It has a northern taste.' Philip and Audrey had now covered the table, and Kelley burst out with, 'Oh, sir, it is too much. There is as much meat as at a wedding.' I suspected then that he was no spy, or agent, but indeed what he claimed to be.

  We took our places, and after I had spoken the grace we fell to the dishes.

  'I pray you,' Mrs Dee said, 'I pray you, husband, cut a little of that powder-beef, the sight of which makes Mr Kelley long to eat, of it. Is that not true, sir?'

  'Certainly, madam, it is true.'

  'Or will you eat of this veal, sir? Or this leg of mutton?' Then she continued with the railing which he had begun. 'Yet I believe you are so fine that you cannot eat such gross meats. Is that not so?'

  'I can eat anything if it be from your table.'

  'Philip,' I said, 'give me your knife. This one is not sharp, and cuts nothing.' I was in an ill humour, since I cannot abide too much talk at dinner. 'The crust of this pie is too much baked,' I continued, looking at my wife opposite to me.

  'No, no, it is well enough done,' she replied. 'But it is a great pity that the sauce is so run out. It is the fault of the baker: I wish that he had it in his own stomach.'

  'Wife, have we nothing else?'

  'Yes, husband. Perhaps Mr Kelley will try our shell-fish while he waits for the meat to be cut. Or will you try these smelts and eels? There is good Parmesan beside them, Mr Kelley, grated with sage and sugar in the London fashion.'

  'In these cold days,' he replied, 'no food can be too hot, and the physicians say that there is nothing hotter than shell-fish. So I will eat them with a good grace, if it please you to serve them to me.'

  I like to set a full table before strangers, even though I myself eat quickly and without any savour. For what is the lot of man but to hunger after that which he does not have, and distaste that which is set before him? The appetite is great, the practice meagre. 'Do not speak to me of physicians,' I said. 'They know nothing. Less than nothing. There are some fools who cannot have a fart awry but they must have their purgation pills or, if there is the least spot upon the face, then they must have a pill to curb hot blood. But not I. I do not wait at the door for the apothecary with his lozenges and antidotes.'

  'Truly, Doctor Dee, you are wise in that.'

  'What is there that an apothecary would have me know? That melancholy may be cured with sovereign hellebore, or choler with the rhubarb? Well, I will tell him this in turn, that the stone incurius takes away illusion from the eyes. These men traffic in nothing but flesh and blood, and other filthy merchandise.'

  'Take the white of this boiled capon, Mr Kelley,' my wife broke in. 'Some beyond the sea marvel how Englishmen can eat their capons without oranges, but we should marvel more how they can eat their oranges without capons. Is that not true, husband?'

  But I paid no heed to her, being still intent upon my own matter. 'And you must know, Mr Kelley, that I have learned how to minister to my own ills. Do you remember, wife, when sorrow came to my kidneys?' She seemed distracted, and said nothing at all. 'It was a great fit of the stone as I felt it, and all day, Mr Kelley, I could do but three or four drops of water. But I drank a draught of white wine and salet oil and, after that, I ate crab's eyes in powder with the bone in the carp's head. Then at about four of the clock I ate toasted cake buttered, with sugar and nutmeg upon it, but I also drank two great draughts of ale with it. And then do you know the effect? I voided within an hour all my water, together with a stone as big as an Alexander seed. So what would these physicians have me learn from them, when I know all?'

  My wife looked at me, as I thought, with pity. 'Why, husband, I believe that you must have eaten that mutton, you speak so gross.'

  'No, no,' said Kelley. 'It is a necessary lesson for those of us who are still haunted by apothecaries and chirurgeons.'

  Then the two of them began prattling away on other matters while I sat silent, and regretted all that I had said. I would rather eat alone and fall upon my food like a dog: to watch others eat, and laugh, and say anything, is to observe how far removed we are from the spheres and stars. It is a terrible thing to be reminded of the flesh. 'I pray you see, mistress,' I said when I could endure no longer, 'that our guest has his towel. There are too few for us to clean ourselves.'

  At that Edward Kelley made shift to rise, but my wife entreated me with a look. 'Let us not rise yet,' she said. 'Is it not good to sit a while after dinner? I wonder, Doctor Dee, if our guest knows the proverb:

  After dinner sit a while,

  After supper walk a mile?'

  'I suppose,' I replied, 'that you have reason there.'

  'Truly,' said Kelley, 'I am content to do anything that pleases you.

  At that she clapped her hands. 'John, s
hall we have a song?'

  He took up her theme. 'Yes, sir, a song is always a cause of content. It is a long day that has no grace note.'

  What could I do but assent? 'The books of music are in my chest,' I said. 'Philip, take the keys from out of my closet. You will find them in a little till at the left hand.'

  So our part-books were brought to the table, and within a few minutes they had taken their tune. I let them sing, though it was no more than the old ditty 'Remember Me As I Do Breathe', and I only joined in with the chorus:

  'Deliver me out of this time,

  Of rash mutability;

  Set forth my song in rhyme

  Of sacred permanency.'

  After we had ended, I took Edward Kelley to my private chamber for more discourse. First I asked him why he had come to visit me. 'You have not lived obscurely, sir,' he answered, 'and for many years have acquired a good name and fame.'

  'I am glad of it. But I am a modest astrologien —'

  'No, sir, truly more than that.'

  'Well, of course I must know the mechanics of astronomy as well as the rules of astrology —'

  'And you have written of such things, in books that will endure as long as our language itself. But further than that, surely?'

  'Further than that, I cannot say.'

  'My late master —'

  'If you mean Ferdinand Griffen, then he is our late master.'

  'He spoke often of the trinity.'

  'And what trinity is that?'

  'The book, the scroll and the powder. And then he mentioned once the calls, or the entrance into the knowledge of the mystical tables.' I said nothing. 'And he taught me the principles of putrefaction, solution and sublimation.' Kelley got up from his chair and, going to my chamber window to look out at the marvellous storm of rain, he recited this to me: 'The art is within yourself, for you are the art. You are a part of that which you seek, for what is without is also within.'

  'Go further, if you may.'

  'Bring forth the water by which nothing can be made wet, then bathe the sun and the moon within it. When this is completed, breathe upon them and you will see two flowers spring forth, and out of these flowers one tree.'