VIKING

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Copyright © 2018 by Deborah Harkness

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Illustrations by Colleen Madden

All photos courtesy of the authors except:

Here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here: Anna Baldwin.

Here: Andreas Cariasco; here: Christian Hinkle, Shutterstock; here: Daemons Domain. Here: © The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge; here: © Victoria and Albert Museum, London.

The following photos accessed via Creative Commons, with the following attributions: here and here by DAVID ILIFF; here by tejvanphotos; here by Daviessimo; here by Motacilla; here by Alistair McMillan; here by David Brossard; here by Photoglob Zurich; here by Indian Joe; here by Skouame; here by Pline; here by Fabien 1309; here by Berkay 0652; here by Calips; here by Spooky; here by Jose L. Filpo; here by Keith Patrick Martin; here by Sage Ross; here by Canon of Medicine, Ibn Sina; here by ΛΦΠ; here credited to Samuel and Mary R. Bancroft Memorial, 1935.

ISBN 9780735220744 (hardcover)

ISBN 9780735220751 (ebook)

Version_2

Dear Reader,

Welcome—or welcome back—into a world of daemons, humans, vampires, and witches, where a reluctant witch and a fifteen-hundred-year-old vampire discover the secrets left in a mysterious manuscript.

When I started writing the books in 2008, I had no idea that so many readers around the globe would take Diana, Matthew, and all the other Bishops and de Clermonts into their hearts and minds. Today I share the creatures in the All Souls trilogy with readers from Australia to Vietnam and Finland to Brazil. This book is for all of you.

My curious, engaged readers always have more questions than I can answer on social media, via email, or at a book signing. We’ve written this book with you in mind. We delved into my file cabinets and notebooks. We mined the stories for hidden nuggets of arcane lore and historical information. We’ve transformed some of what was in my imagination when I wrote the trilogy into something that could be shared.

As you explore the pages of this book, you will discover a treasure trove of information about the creatures and events of the trilogy. This companion volume gives you a chance to have a good rummage through my inspiration archive. Though some of your questions will be answered, we hope that they are replaced with new insights and connections. And as you follow the threads through history, legend, music, magic, and science, we hope that you feel a new sense of affinity for the characters and stories.

Enjoy your journey of discovery—or rediscovery—into the world of All Souls.

Best wishes,

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

A Note from Deborah Harkness

In Conversation with Deborah Harkness

Synopses

A Discovery of Witches Shadow of Night The Book of Life

Calendars Music of All Souls

Creatures

The Creatures of All Souls

Daemons Humans Vampires Witches

Characters

The A–Z of All Souls Characters

Organizations

The Congregation The Conventicle Knights of Lazarus Knights Templar Order of the Broome Order of St. Michael Order of the Defeated Dragon and the Drăculeşti

Oxford University Yale University

A Discovery of Witches Outtake

Locations

Oxford and Oxfordshire, England Scotland

Shadow of Night Outtake

France Spain Madison, New York, USA London, England Prague, Czechoslovakia Amsterdam, the Netherlands New Haven, Connecticut, USA New Orleans, Louisiana, USA Venice, Italy

Magic

Magic and Witchcraft: The World of Diana Bishop

The Goddess: Maiden, Mother, and Crone

Ghosts Elemental Magic The Craft Weaving Timewalking

Science

The Evolution of Matthew de Clermont

500–999 1000–1500 1500–1700 1700–1800 1800–1899 1900–1999

Alchemy

Opus Magnum and Symbols of Alchemy

The Arbor Dianae The Green Lion

The Chemical Wedding

The Philosopher’s Stone

Decorative Arts

Interior Spaces of All Souls

The Art, Fashion, and Jewelry of All Souls

Lifestyles

All Souls Recipes

Wine Tea Herbs and Medicinals

Gonçalves Manuscript 4890

All Souls Activities

Traveling in the All Souls World

Exercise in the All Souls World

Literature

The Literature of All Souls

Alchemy Mythology

History, Magic, Science and Religion

Plays and Prose Poetry and Verse

Translations

Translations for Words and Phrases in the All Souls Trilogy

Wider Reading and All Souls Resources

Acknowledgments

About the Author

It began with . . .

Portrait of the author hunting Easter eggs

In Conversation with Deborah Harkness

The Inspiration for All Souls

What drives your fascination with the past?

Ever since I was a small child, I loved history. My parents took us to historical sites when I was growing up outside of Philadelphia, and I loved dressing up in long skirts and imagining I lived in the eighteenth century. After my first trip to England to visit my mother’s family in the 1970s, I fell in love with fifteenth- and sixteenth-century history, pushing further back into the past.

I think those early experiences visiting historical places, and reading about them before and after, made history seem alive to me. I could imagine myself into colonial Williamsburg, or the Revolutionary War, or Warwick Castle, or Speke Hall. Once the past was a living, breathing place in my imagination, it never lost its fascination for me. The more I read, the more important it was that I know why people in the past did what they did. I’ve always been interested in what motivated people and how the particular conditions of their lives and experiences shaped those desires.

What triggered you to turn from your work as an academic historian to writing a fictional tale of a witch, a vampire, and a lost manuscript?

At the start of a family vacation in Puerto Vallarta, I walked through the airport and saw a big display of books about witches and vampires. I had just finished a book about the history of scientific inquiry in Elizabethan London and had been reading virtually nothing published after 1610 for years, so this move in to popular culture was something of a surprise to me. Looking at the jackets, I was struck with a couple of simple questions: If there really are witches and vampires, as these books suggested, what on earth do they do for a living? And why don’t I know any of them?

When I started writing the story, I really started by imagining a possible answer to those questions. I had spent six or eight weeks on it and had nine chapters completed before I even told anyone else that I was working on something . . . strange. Though I hadn’t seriously considered writing fiction since tenth grade, it appeared that I was writing a novel.

Could you outline the initial journey of the All Souls trilogy coming into the hands of readers—how did you get from the spark of an idea to a published book and the spread of the trilogy worldwide?

It took me about nine months to complete the first full draft of the book. There was something very gestational about the process. And it was a big baby—more than 1,100 pages! It then took me three months (essentially my summer vacation from teaching) to carve 350 pages from it. I had a lot of help with that process from Lisa Halttunen (who is one of the collaborators on this book). After it was slightly more manageable in size, my agent, Sam Stoloff, put it out to potential publishers on a Thursday in September 2009. I got the news that Viking were interested after a class on Monday while sitting on a bicycle rack outside my lecture hall. By the following Tuesday, they had purchased the book.

That call came almost exactly a year after I started writing A Discovery of Witches. Many people told me that this kind of thing never happens. As far as I’m concerned, it’s proof that there has always been more than a bit of pixie dust and magic surrounding the All Souls trilogy.

It was surreal to have the book sell so quickly, and so soon after I’d started the writing process. After that, Viking took the book to the international book fair in Frankfurt, Germany, where it sold to other publishers around the world.

Happily, I was so busy working on the next book in the trilogy, Shadow of Night, and teaching my classes that I had time to let it all sink in slowly. Otherwise I think the sudden success might have been overwhelming—not to mention daunting!

The Writing of All Souls

As a professor of history and a person who juggles a wide range of interests, how do you balance writing with everything else in your life?

Sometimes balance just isn’t possible. Isn’t it a relief to say that? We all strive for it, and maybe it seems as if I’ve got some magic formula to achieve it, but actually I have good days and bad days just like everybody else.

As for my “formula,” it’s changed from book to book. When I was working on A Discovery of Witches, writing fiction was a very small part of my life. I wrote for the first few hours every day (from around 6:00 to 8:00 A.M.), and then I did my full-time job at the university. Once A Discovery of Witches sold to the publisher, I became an “author.” Then I had two jobs, and I also had to find time to keep writing. That’s when creativity was necessary. Shadow of Night, interestingly, was written almost entirely at night, from 10:00 P.M. to midnight, after the hullabaloo of the day had died down. I wrote The Book of Life whenever I could—life was very hectic by then. Now, as I move into writing other books—some of them even about the Bishops and de Clermonts!—I’m trying to get back to the kind of routine I had with A Discovery of Witches.

That’s easier said than done, however. Everybody reading this knows how hard it is to carve out quiet time for yourself and to give that time the same importance in your busy day as any other commitment. We always seem to shortchange ourselves in an effort to get everything else done. I try to get enough rest, enough exercise, and to eat properly—something we all need to do.

At this point I’ve learned that I really can’t write for more than a few hours a day. I’m better with shorter, more focused writing stints. I can write almost anywhere, including my office at home, at the dining-room table, in cafés, at my shared office space in town, on planes, in hotel rooms, and at libraries. Probably the weirdest spot I’ve ever written in was in my car at a highway rest stop on the I-5 in California. I was getting away for a writing week and I just had to pull over and put something on the page.

Because you’d been an academic writer for many years before you turned to fiction, what surprised (or delighted or frustrated) you most about writing a novel?

What surprised me most is that you are not in total control of your story—or at least I’m not. The characters seem to have a life of their own, and sometimes you just need to buckle your seat belt and go along for the ride. This was brought home to me in the very first book, when, with no plan or warning, Matthew got into the car, drove to Scotland, and Hamish opened the door. I had not anticipated that! But who could now imagine a world without Hamish?

I am sometimes frustrated by how hard it is to get what I see and feel so clearly onto the page so that someone else can experience it. This is where it’s vital to let other people whom you trust read your work. We are never our own best editors. A writer always needs fresh eyes and a fresh perspective.

You have said previously that you wrote the last lines of the trilogy at the same time you wrote the first. Was it difficult to stick to this ending? Did you find the story pulling you in different directions as you got deeper into writing it?

I did know how the trilogy would end (though I ended up editing the words a bit!), but I didn’t know exactly how we would get there. The story was well thought out through the beginning of what would become The Book of Life. However, what came between the beginning and the ending did change. In part that was because what I had sketched out was too ambitious and complicated—the perils of being not only a first-time trilogy writer but a first-time author as well. It also had to change because certain characters (namely Hamish and Gallowglass) weren’t part of my initial cast of creatures.

It was very important to me that I resolve to tie up the loose threads already present in the story so readers had a satisfying conclusion. Early in the writing of The Book of Life, it became clear that this wasn’t going to give me much room to introduce new characters or plot twists (two things I dearly love to do, it turns out). I now understand why so many “trilogies” have four, five, six—or more—books in them. Finishing the trilogy as a trilogy required determination and a very thick pair of blinders as I left behind characters and story lines that would take me too far from the central story of Diana, Matthew, and Ashmole 782.

How do the experiences of writing the three books compare? Which would you say was the easiest and which the most difficult?

When I began the trilogy, I thought I was writing a single book with three parts. Part 1 would be more of a love story, with the two main protagonists developing their relationship. Part 2 would be more a work of historical fiction. And Part 3 would be a work of science fiction with lots of thriller elements. No one was ever going to read it (or so I thought), and I thought it would be fun and interesting to play with different kinds of stories and writing.

Once I hit page 400 of Part 1, I realized this was going to need to be more than one book. Nevertheless, I held on to the idea that each book in the trilogy would have a slightly different feel and tackle different writerly problems. I still didn’t think anybody but I and my mother were ever going to read it!

Because of their distinct characters, the books felt very different as I was writing them. A Discovery of Witches was all joy and fun. I was writing furiously fast, and the words seemed to just jump onto the page. The major stumbling block I came across occurred when Matthew left Diana at Sept-Tours to return to Oxford. That was a dark time in the writing process, when I felt as if the characters had stalked off the page and gone on strike. They eventually came back, but it was scary. Shadow of Night was the most complicated to write (all those calendars . . .), but it is the work I’m most proud of because of the real history in it. The challenge in Shadow was making sure I hadn’t done something for the sake of the story that violated the history. I am a historian, after all! The Book of Life was without question the most difficult to write. That’s largely because the beginning was so tough. I had to draw two story lines together, and it took me eight attempts. I wrote eight different versions of the first four chapters before I got one that worked. It felt like trying to launch a jumbo jet with a rubber band.

How has the huge success of the trilogy and having so many readers changed the creative process for you?

When I wrote A Discovery of Witches and even the first half of Shadow of Night, the only person I had to please was myself. There were zero expectations and no deadline pressure. All of that changed, in a wonderful way, in 2011 with the success of the first book.

Since then I sometimes just have to step away from social media and book events so that I can focus on the stories and the characters and let everything else fade into background noise. It’s the only way for me to remain true to the world of All Souls and keep creating the original, fresh stories that people want to read.

The scope of the All Souls world is complicated, to put it mildly. How do you keep a handle on all the different threads. Do you have a massive database or a photographic memory—or both?

I do have a photographic memory, as it turns out. I also have a very sharp memory, one that’s been tuned by working for more than twenty years as a historian. In history you always have to balance out detailed information with the big picture. That skill has come in very handy for me as a novelist, especially a novelist who has built up an alternate world, with a slightly different set of natural laws, historical narratives, and cultural traditions.

I also have a database and two wonderful helpers (Lisa Halttunen and Jill Hough) who know how to look things up in it when I need to know what car someone drove or when Matthew was in Italy. Both Lisa and Jill have advanced degrees and excellent memories, too, and they help keep the story (and the writer) on course.

You’ve said that music is as essential to your writing as breathing, and you’ve shared many of the playlists you listened to when you wrote the trilogy. Can you describe how you construct your musical playlists? What comes first, the playlist or the writing?

They sort of construct themselves. Sometimes I’m driving in the car and hear a song on shuffle and it just strikes me: That’s a Matthew song or That’s a Diana song. Sometimes these insights are linked to a particular moment, but often it’s just a general character feeling.

Other times there’s a line in a song that inspires me. Kate Bush’s “Waking the Witch,” for instance, made me think about all the ways that Diana was “asleep” before her magic became unbound.

Bringing to Life the Characters of All Souls

Diana is such a unique character—strong, independent, and vulnerable too. There are striking parallels between Diana’s life and your own. How much does she reflect you and your experience?

Certainly the fact that Diana is a historian and working at the Bodleian was something I knew, though I must say that what historians actually do in a day is not always how it seems in books. A lot of Diana’s character details simply came from putting her in a particular situation and imagining what someone with her background and characteristics would do. From that perspective Diana often does things that I would never do, because she’s not me.

Diana is a reluctant witch who gradually learns to embrace her power. This seems to have resonated with many of your readers. Why did you choose to tell this particular story, one about a reluctant witch?

I just don’t find it believable to think that if you were gifted with enormous power, you would be happy about it. I see too many people who are afraid of their talents, skills, voice, and ideas—never mind of wielding supernatural abilities.

How did the mysterious Matthew Clairmont take shape in your head?

Back when I started A Discovery of Witches and was first imagining this story about an ancient vampire scientist and a reluctant witch, I thought, Wouldn’t it be fun if my vampire was someone who really lived, someone mysterious who knew interesting people but remained in the shadows? I knew of just such a person in Elizabethan England, the poet-spy Matthew Roydon. From that moment on—and this was in 2008, so it was some time ago—Matthew Roydon’s life story determined a great deal about Matthew Clairmont’s intellectual habits and his taste in friends. A historical figure like Matthew Roydon is a novelist’s dream, because what little we know about him is so fascinating and leaves so much room for creative invention.

Ashmole 782 is a core character in the novels alongside Diana and Matthew, and the trilogy is a story of books as much as of creatures. Did you find that Ashmole 782 took on a life of its own as you began writing, or was it fully formed from the beginning?

Like most of my characters, Ashmole 782 grew and changed over the course of the writing. There’s not much information to go on about this “real” historical character, so I was able to imagine a book into being. That was an exciting process.

How difficult was it to re-create real historical characters you’ve spent years researching into a fictional context? Did you already have clear voices for Elizabeth I, Kit Marlowe, Walter Raleigh, Mary Sidney, and others?

I suppose it’s a bit of both. I usually have some sense of a character based on the texts they read or wrote, some of which I’ve been studying for decades. That familiarity makes me react strongly to the “pop-culturing” of historical characters in books and other media. Some treatments of these individuals make them either cuddly or monsters. Most were neither. They were just doing the best they could in a challenging world. That said, I don’t usually work out full character sketches in advance. The fine details of their characters emerge as I put them in specific situations. So Henry Percy’s mother and her goose came about because I started wondering what kind of Christmas the Earl of Northumberland would have enjoyed growing up, which led me to research his mother, who turned out to be quite a character.

The historical character I knew best was probably Elizabeth I. I wrote my master’s thesis on how Elizabeth relied on the symbolism surrounding the goddess Diana (both the virgin huntress and the wilder, witchier side of the goddess) to bolster her own power. I’ve been fascinated by Elizabeth Tudor since I was a teenager, studied her life and reign through my undergraduate education and into my graduate-school training. She is a fixture of my teaching now that I’m a professor. Reading her personal writings each year with my students gives me fresh insights into her character and her voice. Even after forty years, however, Elizabeth still manages to be elusive. I’m not sure I will ever figure her out.

Everyone loves Matthew and Diana, but other characters who are not always at center stage are equally popular, including Gallowglass, Philippe, Ysabeau, and Marcus. If you had to pick one, who would be your favorite in the trilogy?

Philippe de Clermont, without question. He is the axis of the All Souls universe, the still point in the center around which the whole story turns. Without Philippe there would be no story. It’s odd to have the main character in the trilogy appear only briefly in the second volume, but his placement in the arc of the story actually underscores how central he is to the narrative.

What was the toughest thing you’ve had to do to a character when you were writing the books?

The toughest thing was being honest about Matthew’s dark and deceitful side. He is not a standard hero. He truly does have rough edges and prejudices that make him not just annoying and troublesome but dangerous and problematic. I like Matthew, so there is always a temptation to smooth him out and make him more affable and appealing. That can be hard to resist.

Did any of your characters surprise you as you were writing?

All of them did! But the biggest surprises came from the appearance of Hamish and Gallowglass. I know that sounds silly—how could I be surprised if I’m the author? But I had no plans for Matthew to have a best friend when I began, and certainly no idea he had such a fabulous nephew. In the case of Hamish, I actually left my office and shouted down the hall, “Matthew is in a car! He’s driving! I don’t know where!” I soon found out: He was going to visit his daemonic friend Hamish. As for Gallowglass, I was writing the scene in the Old Lodge’s great hall and was feeling a bit peevish about Kit’s and Matthew’s behavior when suddenly the door to the hall burst open, a blast of damp air came in, and Gallowglass arrived with it. Once he was in the story, I simply couldn’t get him out again. It meant stopping everything for three weeks and figuring out who this Gael was and what role he had in the story, but I think it was worth it.

Constructing the World of All Souls

From Oxford to the Auvergne, Madison and New Haven to Venice, the characters in the trilogy travel to incredible locations throughout the world. Have you been to all the places featured in the books?

As a writer I really need to experience the places I write about in my books. I want to know what they smell like, how the air feels when it changes direction, the way the sunlight strikes the windowsill in the morning, the sounds of birds and insects. Not every writer may require this, but I do. That’s why I spent time in New Haven undertaking research at the Beinecke Library so I could understand the rhythms of Diana’s day there. I visited New Orleans several times to imagine my vampires into that city. All the locations I pick are steeped in history and stories about past inhabitants—perfect fuel for any writer’s creative fire.

Your historical research is woven in effortlessly to create the fabric of the All Souls world. How difficult did you find it to balance all that you know of the sixteenth century with writing fiction? How important is historical accuracy to you in the details of your fictional writing?

Historical accuracy is very important to me, for obvious reasons. I like to stick to the sources as closely as possible and try never to violate them. But historical accuracy is not always the same as historical truth. Not all sources survive, and we have few reflective writings from the early modern and medieval periods, so historians are wary of asserting how people thought and felt. Obviously, thinking and feeling are quite important when you’re writing a novel. I’ve spent decades reading and studying the available sources for the period, and there are aspects of life in the past that I may have a feeling about, but there are no sources to back up those feelings. As a historian I can’t do much with gut feelings. As a novelist, however, I can tell what I believe to be historically true, even if I don’t have source materials.

As for balancing out historical information with fiction, I’ve found that a little historical information goes a long way. I can, for instance, spend three pages describing a sixteenth-century table. But I must ask myself: If this story was set in modern times, would I spend three pages describing a table? Usually the answer is no. So I try to use the historical information like seasoning in a stew and sprinkle it in rather than just dumping it.

How important were these gaps in the historical record when it came time to plotting out Diana and Matthew’s story?

All those frustrating silences that aggravate me as a historian turned out to be perfect opportunities for me as a novelist. The fact that there’s very little hard factual information on Matthew Roydon, for instance, gave me the perfect chance to craft Matthew’s Elizabethan backstory. The legends about witches raising a wind to keep James VI of Scotland in Denmark provided me with a way to dramatize the perils that might befall witches who meddled in human politics.

You have had your own experience of uncovering a mysterious lost manuscript in an old library. Could you tell us the story behind your discovery and how that inspired the trilogy?

I did discover a manuscript—not an enchanted one, alas—in the Bodleian Library. It was a manuscript owned by Queen Elizabeth’s astrologer, the mathematician and alchemist John Dee. In the 1570s and 1580s, he became interested in using a crystal ball to talk to angels. The angels gave him all kinds of instructions on how to manage his life at home, his work—they even told him to pack up his family and belongings and go to faraway Poland and Prague. In the conversations Dee asked the angels about a mysterious book in his library called the Book of Soyga, or Aldaraia. No one had ever been able to find it, even though many of Dee’s other books survive in libraries throughout the world. In the summer of 1994, I was spending time in Oxford between finishing my doctorate and starting my first job. It was a wonderfully creative time, because I had no deadlines to worry about and my dissertation on Dee’s angel conversations was complete. As with most discoveries, this discovery of a “lost” manuscript was entirely accidental. I was looking for something else in the Bodleian’s catalog and in the upper corner of the page was a reference to a book called Aldaraia. I knew it couldn’t be Dee’s book, but I called it up anyway. And it turned out it was the book (or at least a copy of it). With the help of the Bodleian’s Keeper of Rare Books, I located another copy in the British Library.

The significance of family and community emerges as a core theme in the trilogy. Was this something that was important to you in creating Diana and Matthew’s world?

Since time immemorial the family has been an important way for people to organize themselves in the world. In the past the traditional family was a sprawling and blended unit that embraced close relatives, in-laws and their immediate families, servants, orphaned children, the children your partner might bring into a family from a previous relationship, and other dependents. Marriage was an equally flexible and elastic concept in many places and times. Given how old my vampires are, and the fact that witches are the keepers of tradition, I wanted to explore from the very first page of the series the truly traditional basis of family: unqualified love and mutual responsibility. That is certainly the meaning of family that my parents taught me.

The conflicts between creatures in the trilogy mirror many divisions of race and sexuality in our own societies. What ideas do you hope readers will come away with from exploring these issues through the fantasy world you have created?

Human beings like to sort and categorize. We have done this since the beginnings of recorded history, and probably well back beyond that point. One of the most common ways to do so is to group things that are alike and things that are different. I think we have a very complicated relationship to creatures and people who aren’t like us. On the one hand, we are enormously attracted to them, we are fascinated by them, and we want to know more. But often we fear what is not like us. Many of the world’s ills have stemmed from someone (or a group of someones) deciding that what is different is also dangerous. Witches, women, people of color, people of different faiths, people of different sexual orientations—all have been targets of this process of singling others out and labeling them different and therefore undesirable. Like my interest in exploring what a family is, the issue of difference and respect for difference (rather than fear) informed every page of the All Souls trilogy. And yes, I do think that dealing with fantastic creatures like daemons, vampires, and witches rather than confronting issues of race or sexuality directly can enable readers to think through these issues in a useful way and perhaps come to different conclusions about members of their own families and communities. As I often say when people ask me why supernatural creatures are so popular these days: Witches and vampires are monsters to think with.

One of the things that make the All Souls world building so vivid is the way in which you use genetics to create a scientific explanation for the supernatural. You are a historian of science but not a scientist. How did you ensure you were getting the science correct?

I did a lot of reading about genetics and different theories about chromosomal change, and I read studies of spontaneous chromosomal mutations due to pathogen bombardments. It seemed to me that there were all kinds of wonderful possible explanations in the scientific world for creature differentiation, so that’s the explanation I went with.

For me the world of the trilogy needed to make some sense in our modern, scientific perspective. I realized that modern genetic research would be a problem. The various species were once differentiated from humans because they could make certain things happen or had a dissimilar diet. Today, however, being admitted to the hospital after a car accident and having their blood tested might result in discovery. This could be enormously frightening to individuals but could also offer the prospect of real understanding between species.

As an aside, I also think that alchemy fed into my combination of fantasy and science, because alchemy is a scientific discipline positing that substances can change fundamentally from one thing to another. Alchemy has a rich set of images and beliefs about how a seed can turn into a plant, or lead can turn into gold, or the mortal can change into the immortal. So I began to wonder, well, how was neuroscience like magic or neutron bombardment like alchemy? Those were really fun days, when big conceptual pieces of the worldview puzzle began to fall into place.

In the end I hope readers come to appreciate that science—past or present—is nothing more than a method for asking and answering questions about the world and our place in it. Once, some of those questions were answered alchemically. Today they might be answered biochemically and genetically. In the future? Who knows. But Matthew is right in suggesting that there are really remarkably few scientific questions and we’ve been posing them for a very long time. Two of them are these: Who am I? Why am I here?

The magic is as real and powerful as science in the trilogy. With alchemy as the intersection of the two, how else did you approach theories of magic to ensure its position as equal to science in the All Souls world?

Believe it or not, my inspiration for weaving came from a branch of mathematics called topology. I became intrigued by mathematical theories of mutability to go along with my alchemical theories of mutability and change. Topology is a mathematical study of shapes and spaces that theorizes how far something can be stretched or twisted without breaking. You could say it’s a mathematical theory of connectivity and continuity (two familiar themes to any reader of the All Souls trilogy). I wondered if I could come up with a theory of magic that could be comfortably contained within mathematics, one in which magic could be seen to shape and twist reality without breaking it. I used fabric as a metaphor for this worldview, with threads and colors shaping human perceptions. Weavers became the witches who were talented at seeing and manipulating the underlying fabric. In topology, mathematicians study knots—unbreakable knots with their ends fused together that can be twisted and shaped. Soon the mathematics and mechanics of Diana’s magic came into focus.

Readers all over the globe have embraced the world and characters you’ve created. What has been your reaction to the outpouring of love for the All Souls trilogy?

It’s been amazing. I was surprised by how quickly readers embraced two central characters who have a considerable number of quirks and who challenge our typical notion of what a heroine or a hero should be. And I continue to be amazed whenever a new reader pops up—whether one in the United States or somewhere like Finland or Japan—to tell me how much she enjoyed being caught up in the world of the Bishops and de Clermonts. Sometimes when I meet readers, they ask me how their friends are doing—meaning Diana, or Matthew, or Miriam. That is an extraordinary experience for any writer.

Synopses

A Discovery of Witches

Diana Bishop is a reluctant witch from a long line of distinguished witches. Her ancestor Bridget Bishop was hanged for the practice of witchcraft in Salem in 1692, and Diana’s parents, both powerful witches, were mysteriously murdered when she was seven. As a result Diana wants nothing to do with witchcraft or magic. Instead she studies the history of science, with a focus on alchemy. By the age of thirty-three, she is a tenured professor at Yale University and safely removed from the world of magic.

In September 2009 Diana is visiting Oxford University in England. At the Bodleian Library, Diana requests an alchemical manuscript, Ashmole 782, that once belonged to the seventeenth-century book collector and alchemist Elias Ashmole. It contains strange illustrations and is obviously enchanted, with a hidden layer of words shimmering under its surface. The first three pages have been removed. Puzzled but reluctant to be involved with magic, Diana returns the manuscript to the stacks.

Soon Diana is being followed. Though most humans don’t know it, they share the world with three other types of creatures: witches, who have supernatural powers; vampires, preternaturally powerful, who drink blood in order to survive; and daemons, who can be brilliantly creative but also prone to madness. Chief among the creatures seeking her out is Matthew Clairmont, a professor of biochemistry at Oxford—and a vampire. Matthew has been looking for Ashmole 782 since Charles Darwin’s On the Origin of Species was published in 1859. Matthew had heard about another book that supposedly explained the origin of daemons, witches, and vampires. When he searched Ashmole’s library collection in 1859, however, the book was missing.

The general wisdom is that humans, vampires, witches, and daemons are separate species, but Matthew believes they may share a common ancestor. In his laboratory Matthew and his vampire assistants Miriam Shephard and Marcus Whitmore study mitochondrial DNA to trace creature origins. Matthew is afraid that nonhuman creatures are becoming extinct: Modern witches have fewer children, daemons exhibit less genius and more madness, and vampires have trouble creating new vampires. (Vampires create vampires by draining the blood of humans and substituting their own. A recent series of murders involving bloodless corpses suggests that the process is failing.) Against Matthew’s objections, Diana provides a blood sample to be analyzed to aid their work.

Matthew and Diana soon begin falling in love. They decide that Diana will call the manuscript again, but when she tries, the library tells her that it has been missing for 150 years. Diana has no idea how to retrieve it. She has never been adept at the basics of witchcraft and has little knowledge of her powers.

Other creatures want Ashmole 782 as well. The witch Peter Knox believes that Ashmole 782 contains information on the first spells ever constructed, the secret of immortality, and how vampires can be destroyed forever. He thinks it belongs exclusively to the witches. The daemon Agatha Wilson explains that daemons want it because it might reveal where they came from and why they exist.

The bickering over who “owns” Ashmole 782 highlights the prejudices that underlie creature relationships. Fellow witch Gillian Chamberlain warns Diana of the dangers of disloyalty, revealing that Diana’s parents were killed by their own kind for keeping secrets. These prejudices echo the opinions of Diana’s aunt, Sarah Bishop. Sarah and her partner, Emily Mather, raised Diana after her parents’ death.

Matthew gradually shares some of his secrets with Diana, including the fact that he is fifteen hundred years old. To his daemon friend Hamish Osborne, he confesses that during his long life he has killed two women he loved through lack of control. Matthew is afraid he might harm Diana as well.

Diana instinctively trusts Matthew Clairmont, however. When a photo of her slaughtered parents is planted in her rooms at Oxford—a warning that the witches will stop at nothing to get ahold of Ashmole 782—Diana and Matthew travel to the Auvergne in France to hide out at his family’s ancient castle, Sept-Tours. Its only current residents are his mother, Ysabeau, and her housekeeper, Marthe, both vampires. Unfortunately, Ysabeau despises witches because her vampire husband, Philippe, was killed by witches in collaboration with the Nazis during World War II, and the atmosphere is tense.

At Sept-Tours, Diana and Matthew grow closer. With Matthew’s help she realizes she has been using magic almost daily without realizing it. And the results of Diana’s DNA profile show that she has more potential for magic than Matthew’s lab has ever seen in one witch, including control over all the four elements and abilities for mind reading, flight, and talking with the dead.

Suddenly Domenico Michele, an old vampire adversary of Matthew’s, comes to Sept-Tours. As a result Diana learns about the covenant, an agreement forged among vampires, witches, and daemons during the Crusades. The covenant forbids nonhuman creatures to associate with creatures of other types. The purpose is ostensibly to protect them from human discovery. Any creature that breaks the covenant is subject to punishment by the Congregation, a council of nine creatures (three vampires, three witches, three daemons).

After Domenico’s visit, Matthew declares that he and Diana must end their relationship. He is frightened of what other witches and vampires might do to her, and of his own violent tendencies. Diana declares that she loves him and refuses to leave. Then Matthew is notified that there has been an attempt to break into his research lab, and he returns to Oxford.

Diana’s frustration at Matthew’s departure sets off a bout of weeping that turns to witchwater; her tears fill the tower and threaten to dissolve her. Ysabeau pulls her back to the world by singing in a beautiful, unearthly voice. Afterward Ysabeau tells Diana the story of Matthew’s human death—that he was found dying at the bottom of a tower, a suspected suicide, shortly after the death of his wife and child. Ysabeau made him a vampire to save him from the fear of being in hell for eternity, separated from his human family.

In Matthew’s absence, Ysabeau takes Diana hunting to put her off having a vampire as a husband. Diana wins Ysabeau’s grudging admiration by watching her hunt animals for blood without flinching.

While working alone in Matthew’s study, Diana discovers that he belongs to a secret group called the Knights of Lazarus, which succeeded the Knights Templar in 1313. The Knights of Lazarus have bankrolled an astonishing array of historical events, from paying off Elizabeth I’s debts to purchasing most of the factories in Manchester in the nineteenth century. Matthew wields more power than she had ever dreamed possible.

Matthew returns to Sept-Tours and tells Diana he loves her. After they kiss, Matthew declares, “We are one, from this moment forward.” Diana doesn’t fully understand it at the time, but this is the beginning of a vampire’s formal mating process: The female selects her mate, and once he has agreed, they are mated. Ysabeau accepts Diana as her daughter.

Matthew reveals that Diana’s rooms at Oxford were broken into as well, probably by witches looking for her hair and fingernails to use in spells. The hair and fingernails might reveal traces of DNA, too. He now believes that the Congregation would be threatening Diana even if she and Matthew weren’t breaking the covenant—that the Congregation’s real interest lies in using Diana to acquire Ashmole 782.

Matthew finally joins Diana in her bed, though they don’t completely consummate the relationship. The next morning a Finnish witch named Satu Järvinen flies into the garden and kidnaps Diana. She carries Diana to the castle of La Pierre, where Domenico and Gerbert d’Aurillac, a vampire and former pope, are waiting. Satu sends them away and tortures Diana for hours, using an opening spell on her, to force her to reveal information about Ashmole 782. But Diana remembers her mother’s long-ago injunctions to keep secrets, and she remains silent.

Ysabeau sends for Matthew’s vampire brother Baldwin, who is an excellent tracker and strategist. Shortly afterward, Baldwin and Matthew are headed to La Pierre in a helicopter. Satu has thrown Diana into a deep dungeon called an oubliette while she flies off to ask other witches for help in forcing out Diana’s secrets. In the oubliette a dazed Diana sees the ghosts of her parents, and her mother repeats a story she used to tell the seven-year-old Diana about being bound by ribbons. The ribbons symbolize being spellbound, or stripped of her magical power. Spellbinding is usually performed only on witches who have used magic to do something terrible, but Diana’s parents spellbound her for her own protection, to hide her power from other creatures. Diana’s mother encourages her to throw off the ribbons and use her powers to escape. Diana manages to do so, lifting herself up from the bottom of the pit and steering toward Matthew and her freedom.

Matthew, Diana, and Baldwin return to Sept-Tours, and Matthew tends to Diana’s wounds. It’s imperative that she learn to use her magic to protect herself, so the next day Baldwin accompanies Matthew and Diana to New York to seek help from her aunts in the town of Madison. There Diana realizes that the marks Satu made on her back form the seal of the Knights of Lazarus—a star hung above a crescent moon. Not only has Satu branded Diana as Matthew’s property—she has made it clear that the witches know that the de Clermont family are the heads of the Knights of Lazarus.

On Diana and Matthew’s third day in Madison, the Bishop house, which has a mind of its own, slams the keeping-room doors to capture their attention and summon them all to a meeting. An envelope shoots out of the keeping-room paneling. It contains one of the missing pages from Ashmole 782, a note from Diana’s mother, and a piece of paper saying, “It begins with absence and desire. It begins with blood and fear. It begins with a discovery of witches.” Rebecca Bishop’s note explains that the page from Ashmole 782, along with the other piece of paper, arrived when Diana was three years old.

Diana now realizes that a penciled inscription she saw on the Ashmole 782 manuscript was written by her father. Sarah explains that Stephen Proctor was a timewalker, and they theorize that he traveled back to 1859 to bewitch Ashmole 782 so that only Diana could open it. Sarah reveals that Diana herself timewalked as a toddler.

The page from Ashmole 782 depicts the chemical wedding, conjunctio. This is a crucial step in making the philosopher’s stone, the alchemical key to riches and eternal life. The golden-haired queen in the illustration seems to represent Diana, and the king is pale and dark-haired like Matthew. Miriam Shephard, who has arrived from England with Marcus Whitmore, points out that the next step in the alchemical process is conceptio. Miriam believes that Ashmole 782 is about creature reproduction and that vampires and witches, as well as other mixed partners, might be able to have children together.

Miriam and Marcus have more information about Diana’s DNA: She is a chimera, a person with cells that possess two or more different genetic profiles. Since one of the genetic profiles is male, the likeliest explanation is vanishing twin syndrome: Her twin brother was miscarried in the womb, and Diana absorbed his genetic material. Marcus points out that because Diana has already absorbed foreign DNA into her body and is a universal blood recipient (AB-positive), she is less apt to reject a fetus that is half vampire. This represents a threat to the foundation of the covenant.

Sarah and Matthew both try without success to help Diana learn to use her powers. One day when Matthew is stalking Diana in the woods to try to force her to use magic to defend herself, they encounter the vampire Juliette Durand, a former lover of Matthew’s. Gerbert had created her centuries ago to steal Matthew’s secrets; this time he has sent her to kill Matthew and take Diana to face the Congregation. Diana’s magical instincts take over and she kills Juliette with bolts of witchfire, but only after Juliette has mortally wounded Matthew. Diana begs the goddess to help her save Matthew’s life, promising anything in return. The goddess accepts, and Diana allows Matthew to drink her blood, saving his life.

Clearly Diana and Matthew need a safer place to hide. Timewalking to the past is the answer, since the Congregation can’t follow them there and the past holds more powerful witches to serve as tutors to Diana. Timewalking to the past requires three objects from the exact time and place the witch is traveling to, however. As the group is discussing this challenge, Agatha Wilson’s son, Nathaniel, and his wife, Sophie Norman, both daemons, arrive. Sophie is pregnant with a witch, and Agatha has urged her to see Diana. Agatha knows that her grandchild will be in danger once the Congregation realizes she is an exception to their beliefs about creature reproduction.

Sophie presents Diana with a silver chess piece that Sophie’s family has been passing down for generations, along with a message: “When the time comes, give it to the one who has need of it.” Matthew recognizes it as a piece he had lost in a wager on All Souls’ Night many centuries before. Shortly afterward the house ejects a witch’s poppet from the paneling, containing an earring that belonged to Ysabeau. Matthew confirms that this earring was in the same place as the chess piece on the night of the wager. This convinces him of the location and time to which they must timewalk, though he shares the information with no one.

Matthew asks Hamish Osborne to bring the third object: a holograph manuscript of Christopher Marlowe’s play Doctor Faustus. Hamish also brings paperwork regarding the Knights of Lazarus. Anticipating war with the Congregation, Matthew appoints his son Marcus Whitmore grand master in his place and gives his blessing for Nathaniel Wilson to become a knight.

As Halloween night approaches, Nathaniel, Sophie, Marcus, Miriam, Sarah, and Emily leave the house in Madison. They will reconvene at Sept-Tours with Ysabeau and Marthe. Sophie refers to the group as a conventicle, a gathering of dissenters.

Alone in the house, Matthew and Diana gather their three objects. At last Matthew reveals their destination: his house in Oxfordshire on October 31, 1590. Diana imagines the sights and smells of 1590, and they begin their journey. Shortly afterward Sarah and Emily return one last time to the empty house, where Matthew has left Sarah a clue as to where and when he and Diana have gone: a small book and a note. The note reads, “Don’t worry. We made it.” The book is George Chapman’s The Shadow of Night, dated 1594.

Shadow of Night

Matthew de Clermont and Diana Bishop arrive at Matthew’s house in Woodstock, England, on October 31, 1590. Diana is introduced to Matthew’s friends: playwright and daemon Christopher Marlowe, human poet George Chapman, daemon astronomer Thomas Harriot, human adventurer Sir Walter Raleigh, and human Henry Percy, 9th Earl of Northumberland. These are the members of what will one day be known as the School of Night. Matthew has a different name here: Matthew Roydon.

Matthew’s friends already know that he is a vampire. He tells them that Diana is a witch and that they’ve traveled from the future because their relationship has put them in danger from the Congregation. Most are happy to help, but Marlowe is recalcitrant because he is jealous of Diana’s relationship with Matthew.

Diana wants to learn to pass as an Elizabethan gentlewoman, and she practices Elizabethan penmanship in her journal. Matthew is keen to fetch a witch immediately to help Diana understand her powers, though the outbreak of witch-hunts has made witches wary of strangers. The meeting with a local witch ends badly; Matthew antagonizes Widow Beaton, and she leaves convinced that Diana is in league with the devil.

Two new vampires arrive: Matthew’s nephew Gallowglass and his companion, Davy Hancock. The two men were alarmed when Matthew failed to meet them on November 1 as planned. With witch-hunts going on in Berwick, Scotland, Gallowglass and Hancock feared that Matthew had gone there on royal business and come to harm. The 1590 Matthew, Diana learns, is not only a spy for Queen Elizabeth I but also a member of the Congregation.

Philippe, Matthew’s vampire stepfather, knows of Matthew’s disappearance and has demanded that he come to the family home in France. In the twenty-first century, Philippe is dead, and Matthew is agonized at the thought of seeing him again. Matthew must comply, however, or Philippe will endanger his own life by coming to England. Before they leave, Diana sets her journal on a shelf in the library.

In November 2009 archivist Rima Jaen at the Gonçalves archives in Seville, Spain, comes across Diana’s journal in a forgotten box in the archive attics. The page that bears Diana’s name has been ripped out, but Rima feels that the book is important. Her boss, however, discourages her idea to share images of the journal with colleagues in the United Kingdom.

Matthew and Diana travel to Sept-Tours and tell Matthew’s imposing father their story of finding Ashmole 782, falling in love, and traveling back to 1590. Philippe wants to know why Matthew couldn’t ask him for help in the future, and Matthew admits that in their future Philippe is dead. Philippe disapproves of Matthew and Diana’s relationship, which he knows will cause war. He also knows their union is not irrevocable because it has not been physically consummated. Nevertheless, Philippe shelters Matthew and Diana on the condition that they stay in separate rooms.

Matthew wants to leave immediately, but Diana insists on remaining. One day Philippe suggests that Diana follow Matthew on his daily visits to the village church so she can “come to know him better.” There Matthew confesses his guilt over committing suicide. Worse, he admits that he is the one who killed Philippe. Torture by the Nazis drove Philippe to madness, and he begged his family to end his pain. Philippe’s death was an act of mercy, but Matthew is still racked with guilt.

Philippe deduces that Matthew feels guilty for killing him in the future but believes that Matthew must have done it during a fit of blood rage, a blood-borne illness that can cause a vampire to kill without reason. He challenges Matthew to a fight to drive him into a blood rage and lower his defenses. Once Matthew has returned to his senses, Philippe forgives him for what he will do. Knowing that Matthew is currently in no shape to defend himself and Diana against the Congregation, Philippe adopts Diana as his blood-sworn daughter.

The next day a powerful witch named André Champier arrives in response to Philippe’s earlier request for a witch to tutor Diana. To learn Diana’s secrets, Champier announces he will extract her memories “by the root,” leaving her mind blank. When Philippe fails to intervene, Diana reaches for Philippe’s knife and thrusts it into Champier’s heart, killing him.

Philippe reveals that he has been testing Diana and Matthew since they first arrived. Diana has accepted Matthew’s flaws and his blood rage and murdered a fellow witch to avoid revealing any de Clermont family secrets. Philippe is satisfied and announces that they are ready to marry.

Matthew and Diana are married at the village church, and that night they physically consummate their relationship. In the following days, Diana grows closer to both Matthew and Philippe. Philippe confides to her his and Ysabeau’s game of hiding notes for each other inside books, and he tucks one of these notes into a copy of the Aurora Consurgens.

Then Philippe receives a message that Champier’s friends are coming to Sept-Tours to look for him. On Christmas Day, Matthew and Diana leave Sept-Tours and begin the journey back to England.

Back in 2009 Ysabeau knows that Matthew and Diana have traveled to 1590 and is sure that Philippe would have sent her word about them. She finds the note he’d hidden in the Aurora Consurgens. Philippe writes that he has seen Matthew and Diana and hints at the possibility of grandchildren. Ysabeau tells Sarah and Emily that Philippe is certain that the different species of nonhuman creatures can procreate together. The women know that having a child would place Matthew and Diana in great danger from the Congregation, in both the past and the present. A timewalking witch might even be able to follow them there. They agree to watch for any historical anomalies that Matthew and Diana might trigger so that their presence in the sixteenth century can be kept a secret.

Matthew and Diana arrive at their inn in the Blackfriars on Christmas Eve. In 1590 England and France operated on separate calendars, causing a ten-day time difference and giving the couple the rare opportunity to celebrate the holidays twice. Matthew and Diana also learn that she is pregnant. Matthew wants to return to the present at once, but Diana reminds him she doesn’t know how to use the necessary spells. She still needs a witch. They contact Mary Sidney, the Countess of Pembroke and a good friend of Matthew’s, to see if she has any leads. Mary has religious objections to magic and cannot recommend a witch, but she invites Diana to help with her alchemical experiments. She also warns Diana that Matthew is being watched, so Diana determines to find a witch herself.

Diana goes out into the city to draw the attention of other witches. Instead she is noticed by the vampire Father Hubbard, the self-styled ruler of all nonhuman creatures in the City of London. Hubbard requires that all newcomers become his children through a blood-tasting ritual. Only the de Clermont family is exempt from this rule. Tasting her blood will tell Hubbard Diana’s secrets, including the fact that she’s carrying Matthew’s child. Diana informs Hubbard that as Philippe de Clermont’s blood-sworn daughter she is not bound by his rule. She also asks Hubbard to provide her with a witch to attend on her in Matthew Roydon’s vampire household. Hubbard sends Diana a young witch named Annie Undercroft, niece of the powerful witch Susanna Norman. Susanna then arranges a meeting with an even more powerful witch, Goody Alsop. Diana learns from Goody Alsop that she is a rare kind of witch called a weaver. Weavers like Diana and Goody Alsop cannot perform the spells of other witches; they must create their own. Goody Alsop sets up a meeting with other witches in London. They will help Diana make a forspell, which will reveal the nature of her talents and how to develop them.

Matthew and Diana are given a pair of miniature portraits of themselves by Mary Sidney and Henry Percy. Shortly afterward we learn that the portraits have been discovered in the twenty-first century and are for sale at Sotheby’s auction house. Ysabeau dispatches Marcus to Sotheby’s, and he purchases the portraits from a Sotheby’s representative named Phoebe Taylor.

Two important changes to the family unit living in the Blackfriars take place. First, Diana takes in a young boy who tries to steal her purse on the street. His name is Jack, and Diana brings him home against Matthew’s objections, providing him with a roof, a job, and the first family he’s ever known. Second, shortly before the date for her forspell, Diana miscarries the baby. Matthew is grief-stricken.

During Diana’s forspell the room is filled with filaments of magic. Diana cuts the filaments away and allows them to return to her of their own volition. As they return, Diana’s familiar takes shape: a firedrake, or dragon with two legs. The goddess appears and tells Diana that she wants Diana’s life in return for saving Matthew’s—and she is not done with Diana yet. When the vision dissolves, the firedrake disappears inside Diana’s body. The witches deduce that her magic provides answers to her questions and helps her when she is protecting someone or confronting her own fears. She can also be present in the worlds of both the living and the dead. Goody Alsop gives her nine silken cords with which to weave her spells, and Diana begins making progress with magic.

Matthew and Diana learn that the queen’s astrologer, Dr. John Dee, had possessed Ashmole 782 but was robbed of it by his assistant, Edward Kelley. Dee and Kelley had spent time at the court of Rudolf II in Prague at Elizabeth’s behest, where Rudolf apparently persuaded Kelley to steal the manuscript and substitute another. Matthew sends someone to Prague to recover it.

Mary Sidney creates an alchemical arbor Dianae in a glass flask, a dendritic amalgam of crystallized silver that resembles a living tree. Diana realizes that the alchemical mural on the walls of Mary’s laboratory portrays a firedrake with the de Clermont family banner over its head and its tail in its mouth, dripping blood into an alchemical vessel. On a hunch Diana adds her blood to the arbor Dianae. The blood causes the tree to blacken and wither, but when Matthew adds his own blood, the tree reanimates, bearing gold leaves and fruit.

In February 2010 one of Mary Sidney’s lab notebooks is discovered in a house in Surrey, England. The pages contain references to an assistant named “DR.” Matthew’s stepsister Verin remembers Philippe telling her and Gallowglass in 1944 that they must watch for historical anomalies, particularly related to alchemy and to a witch named Diana Bishop. He instructed them to return to Sept-Tours when the anomalies began happening. Verin calls Gallowglass, and he confirms they must return.

In 1591 Queen Elizabeth orders Matthew to Prague to fetch Edward Kelley back because she believes he has discovered the secret of the philosopher’s stone. Diana and Matthew travel to Prague with Gallowglass, servant Pierre, Annie Undercroft, and Jack Blackfriars.

In Prague, Edward Kelley confesses that Emperor Rudolf has taken the manuscript. Learning that Rabbi Loew, the leading Talmudic scholar in Prague, has seen it, Matthew arranges a meeting in the Jewish Town. Loew does not have much useful information, but Diana stays on without Matthew to meet a weaver named Abraham ben Elijah and a frightening vampire named Herr Fuchs.

Matthew has been more possessive than ever, and Diana finally learns why: Vampire mates drink each other’s blood as a way of sharing everything, and without this reassurance Matthew is distracted by insecurities. Diana offers her blood, and it tells Matthew that the Herr Fuchs she mentioned is actually his own vampire son, Benjamin de Clermont.

Rudolf becomes entranced with Diana and offers her anything she desires. She asks to see the manuscript, which is not enchanted at this point and has all pages present. The first page shows a tree composed of hundreds of intertwined bodies, and the page depicting the alchemical child is surrounded with text that Diana couldn’t see in 2009. The manuscript’s pages are made of the skin of vampires, daemons, and witches; the ink contains blood; and the glue is made from bones. Ashmole 782 is a record of creature DNA.

Gallowglass steals the manuscript with young Jack’s assistance, but only after Kelley has ripped out the first three pages, once more bewitching the text around the alchemical-child illustration. The Londoners flee with it back to London, discovering on the way that Diana is again pregnant.

In the spring of 2010, the witch Peter Knox discovers a letter written in 1609 by Rabbi Loew to a man named Benjamin, who is tracking pages from Ashmole 782. This letter suggests that Benjamin is Matthew de Clermont’s vampire son, and Gerbert confirms it. The two are alarmed that a portion of Ashmole 782 might be in Matthew’s hands and that Sept-Tours is sheltering a variety of creatures who are demanding repeal of the covenant. They decide to send a raiding party of witches to Sept-Tours.

Back in London, while Matthew reports his failure to return Edward Kelley to an angry Queen Elizabeth, Christopher Marlowe and Matthew’s disturbed sister Louisa attack Diana, who saves herself with the help of her firedrake. Matthew imprisons Marlowe and Louisa in Bedlam to have his revenge, but Diana shows them unexpected mercy.

Matthew and Diana begin preparations to return to the present. One day they run into Stephen Proctor, her father, who has timewalked from the year 1980 to search for Ashmole 782 himself. After a few short precious days with his daughter, Stephen returns to 1980.

Diana pays a last visit to Father Hubbard to discuss the safety of Jack Blackfriars and sixteenth-century Matthew Roydon once his modern counterpart departs. Hubbard promises not to harm either one in return for a drop of Diana’s blood. Diana freezes the drop to reduce the information it contains, but Father Hubbard now knows that her real name is Diana Bishop.

Thomas Harriot shares with Diana his plans for a telescope. She engages goldsmith Nicholas Vallin to create a model, dated and engraved with Harriot’s name, providing a deliberate trail of evidence to prove that it was not Galileo who invented the telescope, as is usually credited. On June 30, 2010, the Times of London reports the discovery of a telescope invented in 1591, twenty years before Galileo made his telescope. Ysabeau recognizes that this disregard for historical consequences means that Matthew and Diana will be returning soon. Sarah Bishop watches eagerly for Diana, who is all the family she has left: Emily was killed preserving the life of Sophie and Nathaniel’s baby, Margaret.

Diana meets her ancestor Rebecca White Davies and gives Ysabeau’s earring (which eventually ends up in a poppet in the Bishop house) to the child for safekeeping.

Diana and Matthew timewalk back to 2010, where they are met by Ysabeau, Sarah, Sophie, Nathaniel, and their baby. And when Ysabeau greets Diana, she hears the heartbeats of the twins her daughter-in-law is carrying.

The Book of Life

Diana and Matthew return from the past to Sept-Tours in July 2010. Tragic news awaits them: Emily Mather died being interrogated by the wizard Peter Knox as to the whereabouts of Ashmole 782, also known as the Book of Life. Knox was forced to resign from the Congregation afterward, but delegates still plan to search Sept-Tours for the missing book. Baldwin is outraged to learn that Diana and Matthew are married, that she is Philippe’s blood-sworn daughter, and that she is pregnant with twins. He demands that Matthew and Diana leave Sept-Tours and stay out of sight, avoiding notice by any members of the Congregation.

Diana wants to go to Oxford immediately to search for the Book of Life and its two missing pages, but Matthew insists that they obey Baldwin’s orders to let the situation settle down. As Philippe’s full-blooded son, Baldwin is head of the family, and they require his protection. An exploration of the family genealogy by Marcus and Hamish suggests a solution to Baldwin’s despotic authority, which Matthew resists: As a male vampire with children of his own, he could form a separate branch of the family called a scion—provided he has Baldwin’s approval.

The genealogy also reveals the existence of Matthew’s son Benjamin, whom Matthew disavowed centuries before. Benjamin inherited Matthew’s blood rage, a vampire sickness passed to him by Ysabeau, though she is only a carrier. Their illness has been kept secret from the Congregation, who long ago demanded that any vampire afflicted with blood rage be put to death. But a recent series of vampire murders all over the world has raised the Congregation’s suspicions that blood rage has not died out.

Ysabeau reveals that shortly after Matthew made Benjamin in the early twelfth century, a witch in Jerusalem was raped by a vampire and gave birth. Such mixed race children are one of the Congregation’s greatest fears and would lead to genocide. If a vampire informs the Congregation that blood rage runs in the de Clermont family and they learn that a witch is pregnant with Matthew’s twins, the entire de Clermont family will be in danger.

On Matthew and Diana’s last night at Sept-Tours, Benjamin calls to announce that he knows “what the witches discovered all those years ago.” Benjamin is not only alive but in pursuit of the Book of Life. They can’t hide in Oxford, so Diana suggests they return to the Bishop home in Madison, New York. They are accompanied by Fernando Gonçalves, the partner of Philippe’s dead vampire son Hugh, who has become a source of support to the grieving Sarah.

The Madison coven rallies around them as Diana begins to explore her weaver’s powers. On Diana’s birthday her friend Chris Roberts, a biochemist from Yale, arrives. He has been worried ever since she disappeared the previous November. Chris, a true scientist, takes with equanimity the news that she is a witch and that vampires and daemons also exist, objecting only to the secrecy and the segregation of creatures.

Benjamin contacts them again, this time showing a video feed of a bleak laboratory with a bloodied witch lying on the floor. Benjamin blandly explains that he has been raping the witch to impregnate her, but she has been unable to carry the babies to term. If she can’t give him a child, he will come after Diana.

Chris spurs Matthew to action. They must understand creature DNA, and fast. Matthew is still concerned about the need for secrecy, but Chris warns him it’s only a matter of time before creatures are outed to the human world. They go to Yale, where Chris puts his graduate students to work on mapping creature genomes. Meanwhile Diana enlists the help of a Beinecke librarian to locate the two missing pages of the Book of Life.

One of the missing pages arrives, along with unexpected visitors: Father Hubbard and Jack Blackfriars. Diana’s London waif from 1590 is now a young man—and a vampire. Hubbard has brought the page showing two alchemical dragons, sent to him by Edward Kelley in the autumn of 1592.

Hubbard was made a vampire by Benjamin and is Jack’s sire. Jack has inherited a severe case of blood rage, which Benjamin used for his own ends. One night Jack covers the walls of Gallowglass’s condo with nightmarish images of his own and Benjamin’s atrocities. Baldwin arrives unexpectedly, realizes that Jack is responsible for the vampire murders, and commands Matthew to kill him.

How can Matthew kill the young man that he and Diana consider their son? Establishing his own scion would enable him to defy Baldwin but also require him to expose his own blood rage to his children and grandchildren, and to make them potential targets for the Congregation if they keep his secret. Diana is adamant: Matthew cannot kill Jack. Matthew agrees to try to convince Marcus’s vampire children in New Orleans to accept his leadership. Matthew, Marcus, Jack, and Hubbard set off for New Orleans, and Diana goes to London to continue her search for the last missing page from the Book of Life.

Ysabeau and Phoebe join Diana in London, along with Sarah and Fernando. With help from Phoebe, Ysabeau, and the London coven, Diana locates the owner of the page. It’s the daemon Timothy, whom she’d met the year before at the Bodleian. He gives her the page: an illustration of the Tree of Life, made from the skin of his own dead ancestor.

Now she must steal the Book of Life from the Bodleian, a task that, as a scholar, Diana dreads. The goddess advises her that to be successful she must give up something she holds precious. She shoots a silver-shafted arrow at Diana, driving Philippe’s golden arrowhead that she wears around her neck deep into her breast. “When you have need of it, do not hesitate.” But when Benjamin threatens Phoebe at the Bodleian, Diana hesitates to use the arrow against him out of fear of injuring Phoebe and committing violence at the Bodleian, where humans might witness it. Ysabeau has to rescue them.

Matthew finally secures support from Marcus’s family in New Orleans for his new scion, and he and Jack return to Diana. Gallowglass immediately leaves, because he has long been in love with Diana and knows that there is no hope of their being together. He must go so that he’s able to move forward with his own life. Shortly afterward Diana gives birth to twins: a boy, Philip, and a girl, Rebecca. She is in more danger than ever; the witch whom Benjamin kidnapped is dead, along with her unborn fetus, and Benjamin’s sights are now set on Diana.

The family returns to Sept-Tours for the christening of Philip and Rebecca. Baldwin has secured the Congregation’s agreement to Diana’s status as a de Clermont. At the christening Matthew drops the bombshell that the twins are not junior members of the de Clermont family but prominently placed in his own new scion. Baldwin tentatively agrees to this plan only after Diana assures him she will spellbind any family members who act on their blood rage and put the larger de Clermont family at risk.

In Les Revenants, the house that Ysabeau has given the newlyweds, Matthew discovers letters that prove both Benjamin and Gerbert have preyed on witches for centuries in pursuit of the Book of Life. He sets off for Central Europe, Benjamin’s known haunt, to destroy him. Knowing that he could fail, Matthew instructs Diana to return to London to obtain the Book of Life for her own protection.

With magical and vampiric help, Diana breaks into the Bodleian. She has just learned that Matthew is Benjamin’s prisoner, and this enables her to use her full powers without hesitation or fear—the “something precious” that the goddess had mentioned. Her familiar, the firedrake Corra, bursts free, retrieves the book, then disappears forever. The book creates new pages that record the birth of the twins, then goes blank. Diana has absorbed the text of the Book of Life. It is now inextricably part of her.

Diana returns to Sept-Tours, where Benjamin sends the family live feeds of his torture of Matthew. The room in which Matthew is being held provides Ysabeau a clue: It was Benjamin, not the Nazis, who tortured Philippe. This narrows their search for Matthew to the city of Chelm.

Diana’s instinct is to fly to Matthew’s side, but Baldwin knows that defeating Benjamin will require the support of the entire Congregation. When the Congregation was first formed, Philippe had insisted that it always include one delegate from the de Clermont family. As Philippe’s blood-sworn daughter, Diana is eligible to be that delegate. Baldwin takes her to Matthew’s house in Venice, near the Congregation’s headquarters, and then secretly sets off to locate Matthew.

In Venice, Diana makes a motion for the Congregation’s support and shows them the Book of Life, both the blank pages of creature skin and the palimpsest under the surface of her own skin. Diana explains that reproduction is possible between weavers and vampires with blood rage. Domenico insists that such children would be monsters, but the witch Janet Gowdie counters that she is the ancestor of a weaver-vampire union—and that the vampire was Matthew’s son Benjamin. Gradually Diana convinces the delegates that the rules against creatures intermingling are based not on logic but on fear. The Congregation agrees to mount a campaign to rescue Matthew and destroy Benjamin.

Diana joins the Knights of Lazarus near Benjamin’s compound in Chelm. The Knights of Lazarus kill Benjamin’s supporters, and Diana finally kills Benjamin with the golden arrowhead. Matthew returns to their home at Les Revenants broken in body and spirit, but he heals gradually under Ysabeau’s and Diana’s care. The only remaining task is to have the covenant formally revoked. The entire family works to provide evidence that the covenant was based on a fundamental misunderstanding. Procreation between creatures does not result in monsters.

But the question remains: Why can weavers and blood-rage vampires conceive children? Diana already knows the answer; it was written in the pages of the Book of Life. Matthew, Miriam, and Chris provide the modern science that supports her ancient understanding. Their DNA evidence proves that creatures are not separate species but just “humans with a difference.”

Diana travels to Venice and presents their case to the Congregation. The covenant is repealed, and the de Clermont family unanimously appoints Diana as their delegate to the Congregation. Afterward the ghost of Philippe returns to Diana the gold-and-silver arrow she shot into Benjamin’s heart. Diana is to continue Philippe’s work of dispensing justice on the goddess’s behalf. The goddess is still not finished with Diana.

When I decided that Diana and Matthew were going to travel back to 1590, it soon became clear that the existence of a new calendar was going to throw a monkey wrench in the plot. Because Shadow of Night is a work of fiction, I had to find some way to weave the calendar problem into the plot or run the risk of confusing my readers. I decided this historical rift in time added to the timewalking element of the story and let Diana reflect on the discrepancy as further evidence of just how fluid time can be. Keeping all the dates straight was something of a nightmare (you should see my tea-stained, much-revised working calendar complete with phases of the moon and sunrise/sunset times), but it did mean that Diana and Matthew got to celebrate Christmas twice.

Calendars

The Forty Days of A Discovery of Witches

Alchemy is woven into every aspect of the All Souls story from the very beginning, even down to the timings. The action of A Discovery of Witches takes place over forty days and is purposely structured to mirror the forty days of an alchemical experiment. Forty was a significant number in alchemy, as Mary Sidney pointed out to Diana when they were working in her laboratory. Mary was delighted when her own experiment with the arbor Dianae took exactly forty days to complete, “just as the sages promised.”

The Julian/Gregorian Calendars of Shadow of Night

Not only does Matthew and Diana’s visit to the sixteenth century involve timewalking from the present, but they also have other time warps to navigate. When people went to bed on October 4, 1582, a time rift of sorts opened up in Western Europe. In most places people woke up and it was October 5. But in the Polish-Lithuanian region, Portugal, Spain, and most of Italy, the next day was officially October 15. Timewalkers were not to blame. Instead the loss of ten days was the result of Pope Gregory XIII’s new calendar.

Why did Europe need a new calendar? Because the old Roman calendar put in place by Julius Caesar (the Julian calendar) instituted a calculation error that meant it gradually drifted away from key astronomical markers of the season, like solstices and equinoxes. By the sixteenth century, the spring equinox fell on March 11 according to the calendar—not March 21—thereby affecting the calculation of important, movable Christian celebrations like Easter.

This new-style Gregorian calendar made Diana and Matthew’s time travel back to 1590 even more complicated. For while most of Catholic Europe (including France and Bohemia) had adopted the pope’s new calendar by 1590, Protestant Europe (including England and parts of present-day Germany) stuck to the old-style Julian calendar. For Shadow of Night, it meant that France and Prague were ten days ahead of England.

This can lead to some confusion about dates. When did the Spanish Armada start, for instance? According to the Spanish, who used the new-style calendar, it began when their fleet set sail on May 20, 1588. According to the English, who used the old-style calendar, it began on May 10, 1588. Same day, different calendar.

The curious might wonder when England and its American colonies adopted the new calendar. That was in 1752. By then they had to skip eleven days to bring the date into proper alignment with the astronomical data.

The All Souls Year

Mabon, September 21. This is an important day in the world of the All Souls trilogy: the day that Diana met Matthew at the Bodleian Library. I’m a historian, so dates are important (though not as important as high-school history classes suggest . . .), and I chose this one with care. There are many other aspects of the celebration—the harvest, the wise-crone aspect of the goddess—but for me it was this idea of balance that made it the perfect moment for the two main characters to meet. As for where they met, it had to be the Bodleian Library. According to Matthew, the moment he saw Diana using magic to remove a book from the top shelf on the library balcony, he fell in love. When I was writing this chapter, I listened to “Aim Snap Fall” by the Spill Canvas a number of times, since it seemed to capture that moment when Cupid’s arrow landed.

Music of All Souls

MATTHEW

1. “Brezairola,” Anúna

2. “There Will Be a Light,” Ben Harper

3. “Human,” Civil Twilight

4. “If You Find Her,” Future of Forestry

5. “Ozymandias,” Guggenheim Grotto

6. “Behind Your Eyes,” Jon Foreman

7. “The Curse,” Josh Ritter

8. “Only You,” Joshua Radin

9. “Breathe,” Peirson Ross

10. “Blackbird,” Sean McCue, Michelle Beauchesne

11. “Under My Skin,” Peter Bradley Adams

12. “So Are You to Me,” Peter Bradley Adams

13. “Cover of Night,” Steve Reynolds, Tom McRae

14. “After Afterall,” William Fitzsimmons

15. “Secret,” Seal

16. “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles),” Sleeping at Last

17. “Not with Haste,” Mumford & Sons

DIANA

1. “Frost,” Rachael Sage

2. “All Your Sisters,” Mazzy Star

3. “A Map of Shadows,” Carrie Newcomer

4. “Are We There Yet?,” Ingrid Michaelson

5. “Several Angels,” Thea Gilmore

6. “Answer,” Sarah McLachlan

7. “The Thief,” Brooke Fraser

8. “All This and Heaven Too,” Florence and the Machine

9. “The Goodnight Song,” Webb Sisters

10. “Landslide,” Dixie Chicks

11. “Old Soul,” Thea Gilmore

12. “Watershed,” Vienna Teng

13. “I Will Love You,” Fisher

14. “Heroine,” Edge, with Sinéad O’Connor

15. “Set Fire to the Rain,” Adele

16. “White Bird,” KT Tunstall

17. “Bring On the Wonder,” Sarah McLachlan

18. “Music of the Moon,” Martha Tilston

19. “When You Grow Old,” Smoke Fairies

20. “Story of Us,” Sarah Fimm

21. “Keep Breathing,” Ingrid Michaelson

22. “Hourglass,” Sandra McCracken

23. “Always You (Bonus Track),” Ingrid Michaelson

24. “1000 Stars,” Webb Sisters

25. “The Rowan Tree,” Traditional, James Galway, the Chieftains

YSABEAU AND PHILIPPE

1. “The Blood and the Wine,” David Berkeley

2. “Too Far Gone,” Lisa Gerrard

3. “Love’s Secret,” Michael Whalen

4. “Trusty and True,” Damien Rice

5. “The Peace of the Wild Things/Dayblind,” Crooked Still

6. “A Beginning Song,” Decemberists

7. “I Have Loved You for a Thousand Lifetimes,” Michael Whalen

8. “Cosmic Love,” Florence and the Machine

9. “Broken Crown,” David Berkeley

10. “Have I Loved?,” Down Like Silver

11. “Blood/Chest,” William Fitzsimmons

12. “I Am Stretched on Your Grave,” Kate Rusby

To listen to these soundtracks and others, visit Deborah Harkness’s website or follow her on Spotify.

Creatures

The Creatures of All Souls

There are four types of hominid creatures in the world of All Souls: daemons, humans, vampires, and witches. They have existed side by side for millennia, and though humans have always been in the majority, in the past that majority was far slimmer than it is today. Now humans represent about 90 percent of the population, and the other three creatures, which are apparently becoming weaker, only roughly 10 percent.

At various times in history, humans have been forced to acknowledge that there were creatures Not Like Them in their world. In antiquity, and in the early Middle Ages, there were periods of vampire warfare while the early modern period was a time of great magical fertility. And daemons were especially prolific in the eighteenth century. Typically the humans resorted to myth, fairy tales, and the linked responses of celebrity or scapegoating to come to terms with these intrusions of Otherness into their world.

At a genetic level, there are some distinctions between creatures. Scientists like Matthew Clairmont are just beginning to probe those differences—though they rightly fear that such knowledge could result in eugenics and genocide if discovered by the wider population. Daemons have a single extra chromosome while witches and vampires have an extra pair of chromosomes. For witches the extra chromosome pair is inherited through descent. For vampires the extra pair is a forced genetic mutation resulting from the flood of DNA that is absorbed at the moment they ingest their maker’s blood (all of which, incidentally, is compatible with modern genetic research). Humans, witches, and daemons are also grouped together under the term “warmblood.”

At the moment, most creatures believe that they are each entirely different species. This is reminiscent of nineteenth-century race theory, which posited that African and Asian peoples were different species rather than phenotypically different members of the same race. As with nineteenth-century proponents of racial purity, creatures believe that different species either cannot or should not mix.

While informal segregation has sadly always existed, formal segregation has been increasing in the world of All Souls. The unwanted human attention on the minority cultures living among them resulted in the establishment in the twelfth century of the Congregation, a formal institution ostensibly founded to ensure the safety of daemons, vampires, and witches through self-segregation. However, the creation of the Bishop-Clairmont scion has now challenged the old laws. With the covenant overturned at the end of The Book of Life, the destructive divisions between creatures could finally be dissolved.

Daemons

Even though they’d followed me around college, I knew even less about daemons than I did about vampires. Few seemed to understand the creatures, and Sarah had never been able to answer my questions about them.

Characteristics

Daemons are creative, artistic creatures who walk a tightrope between madness and genius. They live life in a chaotic fashion yet show great affection for those around them who share their ideals. Their strongest distinguishing characteristic is awe-inspiring creativity. They are exceptionally talented and often have a love for music and art. They can also be unstable, however, and toggle between bursts of wildly productive activity and dangerous depressions. By turns dreamy and intense, mercurial daemons live the same ordinary life span as witches and humans but with such intensity and so little sleep that they seem to live several lifetimes in one.

Sarah Bishop says that daemons are either rock stars or serial killers. While overly simplistic, this assessment contains a kernel of truth. Because daemons are brilliant and intensely creative creatures, they do gravitate toward high-risk/high-reward careers like pop music. They are also found in professions as diverse as computer programming and gaming, hedge-fund management, music, theater, and the graphic arts. Many of our foremost writers of plays and novels, both past and present, are daemons. In modern times daemons frequently appear on the bestseller lists and in feature articles in the New York Times and the Sunday Times in the UK. Some notable daemons past and present have included Christopher Marlowe, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Nikola Tesla, Georgia O’Keeffe, Jimi Hendrix, Remedios Varo, and Jonathan James.

Many, if not most, rock stars and, indeed, concert musicians and other musical prodigies, painters, sculptors, fashion designers, and actors are daemons. And the individuals who surround these artists, including actors’ entourages, paparazzi, and various groupies, are often young daemons, drawn like moths to their flame. Daemons are addicted to fashion, too. They make trends as well as follow them and always know the best bars, restaurants, and clubs.

Many daemons walk the halls of colleges and universities around the globe, though given the nature of daemons, those institutions cannot always contain them tidily. Historically, they were drawn to the study of mathematics, alchemy, and astronomy. Their scholarship and contributions were especially prolific throughout the eighteenth century, during the period popularly known as the Enlightenment. Today daemons continue to make contributions in areas ranging from biology to history, in physics, mathematics, and computer science. They are particularly drawn to the creative possibilities of multidisciplinary fields, such as the history of science and computational bioinformatics (which develops software tools to analyze biological data).

There is, of course, a darker side to daemons. While serial killing is not exactly a profession, it is true that the genius of some daemons can spin toward madness and even, in a few regrettable instances, murder. More often, however, young daemons engage in crimes of impulse and opportunity, like street brawling, petty thievery, or counting cards in Las Vegas casinos. Others who prefer to avoid crowds and the possibility of being physically attacked may engage in counterfeiting artwork and historical artifacts or the sophisticated and destructive enterprise of computer hacking.

In general, however, daemons are more of a nuisance than a danger. This stands in sharp contrast to vampires and humans, creatures who are truly lethal but seem to get much better press, perhaps due to their superficial charms and tremendous powers of deception. When it is possible to identify, channel, and cultivate their creativity and intelligence, daemons can be valued members of society.

Preternaturally gifted and unpredictable, daemons tend to exhibit their traits at puberty in one of two ways: extraordinary mental and/or creative abilities or madness. Teenage daemons are at great risk of harm from drug abuse, homelessness, and aggressive mental-health treatments. And because they are often born to perfectly ordinary humans, they can be unwelcome in their biological families, marginalized and misunderstood. In those rare cases where they are born to understanding families who nurture their tremendous gifts, daemons can be unusually stable and competent and go on to accomplish remarkable things.

Unlike vampires, most daemons do not have any particular scent that is detectable to witches. Some witches, however, report that the gaze of a daemon is unsettling and feels like a kiss or being nudged by an unseen hand. Many daemons also possess glimmerings of supernatural power. Although they cannot enchant objects as witches do, some report having precognitive visions of the future and the ability to read the minds of others—though these readings and visions, like daemons themselves, are not always entirely reliable.

Daemons struggle with repetitive tasks like housekeeping and, in their distraction, lose things constantly—keys, wallets and purses, eyeglasses, and cell phones. They often wander around parking garages for hours in search of their vehicles. Many daemons are fantastic chefs, but their kitchens are in constant disarray, with pots and pans going unwashed for weeks. A large majority of them are impeccably dressed, but some can be a bit scruffy. They may let personal hygiene take a decided backseat in moments of inspiration (or madness), leaving their shoelaces untied, wearing clashing colors and patterns, or misbuttoning their clothing. Indeed, daemons have on multiple occasions inadvertently started popular fashion trends like the lumbersexual beard, the wearing of mismatched socks or underwear as outerwear, and dressing in white year-round.

In short, daemons leave things everywhere, take apart objects clearly labeled “Do not disassemble,” are impossible roommates, and have to make do as square pegs in a round-hole world.

Genetics and Reproduction

Daemons have twenty-three chromosomal pairs just like humans but have a single extra chromosome in addition. At least one scientist believes this may be what makes them daemonic and prone to instability. But laboratory research into the daemonic genome is in its infancy, and those conclusions are purely speculative. In many respects daemons are the least understood and hardest to categorize of the creatures. Some daemons believe that the answers to their origins lie in the Book of Life. As Agatha Wilson said to Diana, “It tells our story—beginning, middle, even the end. We daemons need to understand our place in the world. Our need is greater than that of the witches or vampires.”

No one understands how and why daemons are made. They are not consistently born from other daemons in the way witches are born from other witches or vampires are made by other vampires. The origins of daemons are complicated, with many being born to human parents, daemon parents, or some combination thereof. There are also rare instances where witches give birth to daemons—for example, Sophie Norman was the child of two witches. But as with most aspects of daemonic culture, these instances have not been systematically studied. This is largely because the presence of daemons has been hidden from public view for many centuries. Those few scientists who are daemons themselves or are aware of the existence of daemons have long felt it was too dangerous to publicly acknowledge any creatures other than humans. There is some cause for hope that the present scientific community would respond to an inquiry into daemon genetics with a spirit of investigation rather than with prejudice and hostility, as modern scientists are trained to rely upon data and evidence rather than superstition and belief.

Matthew’s research into creature genetics, in conjunction with the secrets Diana has unlocked from the Book of Life, has now revealed that daemon genes are the critical link for cross-creature reproduction and the conception of Bright Borns between witches and vampires.

Customs and Lore

Daemons do not have a society in the traditional sense and little collective identity, due to the unpredictable nature of their descent. This is in stark contrast to witches and vampires. It makes daemons perpetual outsiders, marginal even within the world of creatures.

Three daemons sit on the Congregation, along with three witches and three vampires, and vampires are forbidden to take daemons’ blood. This would suggest that daemons are accorded respect by these other creatures, but their treatment by witches and vampires does not bear this out. Both creatures look down on daemons, finding them erratic, difficult to understand, and unreliable. These prejudiced views are being eroded with the formation of the Conventicle, in which daemons (such as Nathaniel Wilson) are asserting their value and standing beside their vampire and witch counterparts. But it will take time for centuries-old biases to change completely.

Daemons long to know where they come from, for a narrative of their history and a sense of how they came to be and when. Most suffer terrible loneliness in childhood, having formed the unsettling conclusion that they are vastly different from most people. Those fortunate enough to discover that they’re members of a group of creatures called daemons have described the moment as a rebirth and an opportunity for community and belonging.

With this marginalization and lack of formal customs or lore, daemons have developed many different ways of coping. As daemons mature, some find themselves living alone and in such cases often decide to share their homes with companion animals. The numbers of their pets are likely to be more than most other creatures deem sensible. For example, instead of having one dog lying quietly at their feet, they’ll have a half dozen—each one louder, more badly behaved, and more headstrong than the last. These are unlikely to be completely housebroken. The term “crazy cat lady” refers to the same daemonic phenomenon.

Still, despite their domestic eccentricities, few daemons live entirely solitary lives. Many form strong attachments to others, both romantic and platonic. Daemons are tremendously affectionate and loyal to their friends and loved ones. But in some situations these qualities can tip over into madness and obsession, and in their single-mindedness and ardor daemons can destroy goodwill and even lives (the serial killers). With the advent of the Internet, many young daemons have found solace and like-minded opponents in the online gaming community and often continue to play computer games as adults. Others find they enjoy more unplugged games of strategy, like chess and the Chinese form of it, Xiangqi. Many daemons practice yoga and meditation, which they find helpful for managing and balancing their intense energy and allowing them simply to be themselves without the constant reminders of their difference.

Daemons are drawn to energy in its many forms. They tend to hang around in markets, concert halls, restaurants, libraries, and other places where there is great industry, intellectual activity, and creativity. And because daemons can sense all kinds of energy, including magic, they are irresistibly attracted to witches, especially powerful ones. The fascination is nearly always one-sided, but this does not seem to discourage daemons in the least. In these cases daemons are likely to draw human attention while shuffling dreamily behind some beleaguered witch. In the main, however, adult daemons avoid hanging around vampires or witches. They prefer to stick together or move among the humans, who vaguely fear their difference and alternately marvel at and envy their inhuman brilliance.

Daemons learn to avoid locales where they are especially persecuted and gravitate toward those few places they are welcomed, like Rudolf II’s Prague at the end of the sixteenth century and Silicon Valley in the twenty-first. Generally speaking, however, daemons have been increasingly marginalized and vilified. Their social disorganization, due both to the circumstances of their birth and their innate disposition, militates against the rise of any set of formal customs. For their stories and lore, they rely largely upon fragmented human accounts.

Myth and History

The fractured nature of daemon culture means they have no recorded, coherent history, only tales told about them by fearful and envious humans. In ancient times humans understood and valued the gifts of daemons, who occupied a place somewhere between themselves and the gods. They were recognized as possessing godlike spirits, animated by their intense interests and passions. But over time, and with the advent of the monotheistic religions, daemons came to be associated with false idols or fallen angels and evil in the minds of many humans. Rather than revering their godlike and creative spirits, humans viewed daemons as demons, creatures who needed to be exorcised from existence by the church. Humans came to hate them because they were different and abandoned their own children if they turned out to be daemons. Even in modern times, exorcisms of demons are practiced by humans of many faiths. These human tales tend to frighten the general population and popularize the association between daemonic behaviors and evil.

There is some anecdotal evidence to suggest that, over time, madness and instability have increased among daemons. This coincides with a rise in the practice of confining the insane in institutions along with criminals, debtors, and other troublesome inmates. As early as the ninth century, daemons began to be kept apart from the rest of society. London’s Bedlam hospital has housed daemons from the thirteenth century. We know from Diana Bishop’s visit to Bedlam in 1590 that even then a majority of its inmates appeared to be daemons. They became the focus of human attention particularly in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries when reform of mental asylums became a priority. During this time, some humans and many creatures, most of them daemons, were institutionalized at exponentially higher rates than in previous years. Indeed, the official reasons for admittance to nineteenth-century asylums reads like a catalog of daemonic characteristics, ranging from overexertion, mania, and monomania to novel reading, keeping bad company, and suffering from greediness, jealousy, dissolute habits, and insomnia. Now, with a new age for creatures opening up as the result of genetic research and the overturning of the covenant, daemons may finally come to understand their fragmented history and origins. One of the most famous daemons, Christopher Marlowe, encapsulated the contradiction of a daemon’s experience in his observation, “What nourishes me, destroys me.”

See also:

CHARACTERS: Thomas Harriot, Edward Kelley, Christopher Marlowe, Sophie Norman, Hamish Osborne, Timothy Weston, Agatha Wilson, Nathaniel Wilson

ORGANIZATIONS: The Congregation, the Conventicle

Humans

Humans outnumbered us and found our power frightening, my mother explained, and fear was the strongest force on earth.

Characteristics

Humans are rational, sensitive beings who thrive in the company of others. They show talent in many different ways, ranging from academic interests to more practical endeavors. They may not possess the physical strength of vampires, the intense creativity of daemons, or the magical power of witches, but in terms of number they dominate the All Souls world. They are especially gifted when it comes to denial and fear responses and can activate their usually dormant sixth sense when a situation demands it. They are the ultimate prey animals and have adapted to respond to fear with aggression. This has kept their numbers up and has negatively affected other creature populations. The powers of witches and the enhanced strength of vampires are no match for the collective potency of human fear.

Humans, having long represented the creature majority, enjoy the many privileges of that status. They also exhibit the myriad weaknesses inherent in that position, namely a sense of entitlement, the tendency to screen out inconvenient and unpleasant truths of existence, and a cavalier attitude toward squandering resources.

Humans often turn a blind eye to the peculiar activity of the other creatures in their midst. However, they are not as clueless as they seem. They do know that there are different creatures in the world. Humans look twice at the beautiful, graceful vampires they see on the street; they are envious of the talents of daemons and follow rock stars and movie stars with avid attention; they have delusions of grandeur that make them fascinated with magical stories and troop in large numbers to theme parks and the cinema to see tales of witches and wizards. But humans compartmentalize these experiences, dismissing them as illusions or make-believe. There are, of course, exceptions to these human deniers, and at an individual level many display warmth and calm acceptance. When Diana finally revealed to her close friend Christopher Roberts what she and Matthew really are, he processed the evidence as any open-minded scientist should and accepted the seemingly impossible into his worldview.

If you are reading this, you know what humans look like.

Genetics and Reproduction

Genetically, humans possess the normal twenty-three chromosomal pairs in every cell nucleus. Creatures may appear similar to humans on the surface, but their genetic makeup is very different, with vampires and witches having twenty-four chromosome pairs (daemons have the same number of pairs as humans, but a single extra chromosome).

Humans give birth to other humans and can have children who are daemons, but only rarely. They cannot have children who are witches or vampires, though their offspring can be transformed into vampires. If current demographic trends continue, humans are likely to surpass the other three creature populations within several centuries.

Over time humans have proved better at adapting, with a stronger urge to reproduce than vampires and witches, and their immune systems are more responsive to the stresses of modern life. It’s these sensitive immune systems, however, that vampire researcher Miriam Shephard believes are going to get humans in the end. The human ability to adapt, through natural selection and species extinction, is the concept from Charles Darwin’s Origin of Species that kindled Matthew’s interest for his own research on creatures, contributing to his theory that humans, witches, daemons, and vampires could in fact all be descended from a common ancestor. As he and Diana went on to discover, humans are not so far removed from these other creatures genetically as they seem to be.

Customs and Lore

Humans are drawn to creating ever more complicated and exclusive social organizations and institutions. This provides them with strong foundations when it comes to rationalizing and organizing responses to creatures Not Like Them.

In a similar way to other creatures, humans seek out a partner in life. They arrange themselves in family groups surrounding these central partnerships. But the bonds that hold them do not have the strength of vampire matings. They are capable of cutting their ties to a once-beloved partner, or even turning on their family, if motivated by fear and the desire for power.

Some humans are more knowledgeable about the world of creatures and, rather than living in denial, adopt a practical, peaceful option of mutual coexistence. Witches have found it beneficial to become established members of human communities, where their talents for healing and guidance are appreciated. Vampires, too, sometimes live in an area long enough to become fixtures of local life. The de Clermonts, for instance, are known in their village to be vampires, but their human neighbors have been protected and supported by the clan long enough that the family has earned their unfailing loyalty.

History and Myth

The history of humans goes as far back as that of all other creatures. As with daemons, vampires, and witches, the truth of their past experiences is hidden somewhere within myth and stories, in the source-biased accounts of historians, and in the evidence pieced together by scientists. Human creation stories are as varied and numerous as the multiple religions and cultures they stem from, as are human tales of the other creatures in their midst. It is these belief systems, with their corresponding alliances and clashes, that have driven the shape of events in their societies.

Humans used to be more equal in numbers to vampires, witches, and daemons. Over the centuries, however, their powers of denial and fear were channeled into the persecution of those “others” who raised their heads above the parapet. This led to human dominance in the All Souls world, driving creatures into the hidden minority. A particular turning point for human ascendency in the West came during the medieval period and the Crusades.

Religious and racial conflict among humans has always been a key feature of their history, and the wars that ensued drew in all the other creatures. The medieval Crusades, from the eleventh century to the end of the fifteenth, were a time when Western knights flocked to the Holy Land to do battle against their infidel enemy and the European myth of the chivalric medieval knight was at its height, symbolized in the order of the Knights Templar. Many creatures joined the humans in their quest, including the de Clermonts. But each community of creatures had its own agenda, and as tensions mounted, witches, daemons, and vampires were forced to retreat from the threat of dangerous human attention. So the Congregation and its covenant were formed to protect and separate creatures as far as possible from human society and its politics.

Although on the surface humans were the reigning elite, in reality, vampires, witches, and daemons found other ways to wield power. Forbidden to rule, they continued to work (and do still) behind the scenes in human affairs, interceding and manipulating events if the situation required it. When Diana timewalked to the sixteenth century, there was no denying the strong grip that Philippe de Clermont’s network of vampires had upon Europe and its rulers. At that time Philippe was caught up in trying to save France from itself, locked as it was in the split between Protestants and Catholics following the bloody St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre in 1572 that occurred during the wedding of a French Catholic princess to the future Protestant king Henri of Navarre. Catholic mob violence and assassinations swept through the city, directed against the Protestant French Huguenots. Matthew played his part on that infamous day, using one of his many identities to help the English ambassador, Francis Walsingham, escape Paris with his Protestant friends.

While creatures have sought to control human affairs, astute human rulers in history have known how to exploit the talents of the creatures while never publicly acknowledging that they even exist. Sixteenth-century sovereigns Elizabeth I of England and Holy Roman Emperor Rudolf II were fully aware of the creatures in their kingdoms. As long as the creatures served their interests, they allowed them a safe haven. Matthew Roydon, Elizabeth I’s vampire spy, was a valuable servant to the queen. Rudolf’s fascination for the occult and his fondness for the witches whose magic and power he desired made his court a particular gathering place for witches as well as daemons. And both Elizabeth and Rudolf were determined to assert their ownership over the mad daemon genius Edward Kelley and his alchemical work if it meant they could acquire the elusive philosopher’s stone. But the whims of these rulers were a dangerous tightrope for creatures. A king’s or a queen’s interest could turn instantly deadly if the monarch sensed a threat to his or her power, as the Scottish witches in King James VI’s kingdom discovered.

Despite humans’ capacity for violence and denial, their pursuit of knowledge and new worlds has nonetheless driven progress. Diana was in awe of the many talented humans she met in the sixteenth century. From the adventures of the legendary Walter Raleigh to the wonders of John Dee’s vast library, to Mary Sidney’s beautifully painted laboratory in Baynard Castle, Diana was able to step into the lives of influential historical figures whose impact she had previously studied only from afar.

Their powerful desire for knowledge led humans away from religion to more scientific experiment, through the Age of Enlightenment to the modern research that is now Matthew’s world of work. But rational scientific thought did not lessen the human fear and denial of other creatures. Rather it brought an even stronger rejection of magic and supernatural power into the world, driving creatures ever more into the shadows and diminishing their numbers. Modern warfare, with its massive bombing campaigns and the development of automatic weaponry, has also been particularly damaging to vampire populations.

Now that Diana and Matthew have discovered the secrets of the Book of Life, however, the balance of humans in the world of creatures could change.

See also:

CHARACTERS: John Dee, Walter Raleigh, Rudolf II, William Shakespeare, Mary Sidney, Elizabeth Tudor

ORGANIZATIONS: The Knights Templar, the Order of St. Michael

Vampires

He was, quite simply, the most breathtaking creature I had ever seen—supernatural, preternatural, daemonic, or merely human.

Characteristics

While humans are the ultimate prey animals, vampires are the consummate predators. Were it not for human aggression and the devastating Vampire Wars of the late classical and early medieval periods, vampires might have become the dominant population on earth.

The common warmblooded opinion of vampires is that they are cold, single-minded, and dangerous—when a witch feels a vampire stare, it’s an icy, focused sensation—whereas vampires themselves are proud of their elegance and discipline. They are charming yet have a tendency to unveil a darker side when they smell blood. Vampires are physically stronger and faster than humans or witches, but they don’t have supernatural powers. They are usually stunningly beautiful, and their bodies are very efficient; they run cold and don’t need to eat frequently; their hearts don’t beat often; they breathe very slowly and don’t need much sleep. This is because they aren’t fully alive. They are very difficult to kill, because their blood has properties to heal their bodies quickly after injury, but they are not immortal. They can be killed through massive blood loss, by causing them to bleed out entirely without replacing the blood, or by burning.

Vampires believe that they are at the top of the creature food chain. This literally is true, because they feed off all warmblooded creatures, including humans, cows, deer, cats, rats, birds, and whatever else comes to hand. They avoid feeding off daemons and witches and do not consume wolves, horses, or dogs because they value their companionship. Daemons might make an occasional treat, but their unpredictable taste can lead to disappointment.

Once a vampire has been made and the maker is convinced that the newly minted vampire is now self-sufficient (the initial transition period is a difficult one for newborn vampires), the vampire begins to establish a new identity. It is vital that vampires cultivate passions and interests, or else they are in danger of falling victim to boredom and depression during their lengthy existence. This means they are often found in careers that reward long-term thinking, such as investment banking, art collecting, scientific research, and real estate. Science in particular suits extended study and patience, and its solitary nature enables vampires to remain unrecognized except by their closest colleagues. This makes a life that spans centuries much easier to negotiate. Vampires used to be found studying alchemy, anatomy, and electricity; now they gravitate toward particle accelerators, the human genome project, and molecular biology.

Because they live so long, vampires are adept at a kind of shape-shifting, moving to new countries and acquiring new language skills and identities, new jobs, new houses, new friends and lovers. This is how they not only survive but thrive. Matthew Roydon is only one of Matthew de Clermont’s many names. Modern methods of fixing identities have not been kind to vampires, but they are learning to cope using identity theft and other measures. And they can always rely on humans’ capacity to deny what they believe is the impossible.

Genetics and Reproduction

Genetically, vampires are distinct from the human and daemon populations because they possess twenty-four chromosomal pairs (as witches do). Vampires are made, not born, from human stock. There are long-standing cultural prohibitions against turning a witch or a daemon—considered higher life-forms than humans—into a vampire. Humans, however, are perfect candidates.

Vampires select potential humans according to their needs at the time. Some need mates. Others need soldiers or assassins. Some need skilled servants. Others are looking to fill out a family. Once the humans are selected, the vampire sire or maker drains the human of all its blood. The moment the heart stops beating, the vampire forces the human to drink enough of the maker’s blood to bring the heart—and the rest of the human’s mortal body—back to life. Vampires call this process rebirth. Vampires thus have two birthdays (their mortal, human birthday and their vampire rebirthday), and two astrological signs. Vampire genealogy is more complicated than that of witches or daemons, because they have blood relations on three sides: their human mother, their human father, and their vampire maker.

Once made, vampires experience up to five years of vampire infancy. During this time they are under the almost constant supervision of their maker or another powerful member of their family while growing accustomed to their new talents and abilities. Vampire blood brings ordinary human genetics to its greatest, most extraordinary potential, conveying preternatural beauty, longevity, strength, height, and senses to the former human. You will rarely encounter an ugly vampire. They can see in the dark, hear through walls, jump high (though they can’t fly), run fast, and lift extremely heavy objects. Vampires are the creatures you gape at when you’re at the theater because they are too perfect to be believed, with glossy hair, perfect skin, long legs, and beautiful features. You do see old vampires, however, because some vampires can’t bear to part with valued human servants when they age. Instead they strike a lucrative deal that allows the servant to accrue a large bank account and long life in exchange for continued service. The de Clermonts have collected several of these servants over the years, such as Ysabeau’s steadfast housekeeper Marthe, as have most of the large vampire clans.

Based on his genetic research, Matthew believes that the influx of a vampire’s blood forces hundreds of spontaneous genetic mutations in every cell of the body, and it is those mutations that might be leading to their extinction. Modern vampires now find it difficult to make new vampires, as evidenced by discoveries of bloodless corpses, which are their botched attempts at resurrection.

Though resistant to the disease that affects warmbloods, vampires are subject to a genetic illness called blood rage. Once known as the Vampire Curse, this illness leads to hyperaggression and an insatiable desire to hunt and kill. While all vampires need to hunt for physiological and psychological reasons, vampires afflicted with blood rage are unable to stop themselves from doing so. During the Vampire Wars of antiquity, vampires with blood rage were highly desirable and efforts were made to raise armies of blood-rage vampires. In the aftermath of the wars, however, vampires deliberately exterminated others who exhibited signs of the disease. Ysabeau de Clermont, Matthew’s mother, was made a vampire by a sire with blood rage. She escaped the pogroms, and her mate, Philippe de Clermont, kept her condition a secret. He also kept secret the fact that two of Ysabeau’s children, Matthew and Louisa, inherited the active disease from her. This ethnic cleansing within the vampire population is believed to have been largely successful, with blood rage considered an extinct disease like smallpox, but there are still dangerous carriers at large, as Matthew knows only too well. No one is sure exactly why some vampires get blood rage and others do not, and Matthew has been working on the problem since the 1960s.

As Diana and Matthew began to uncover the secrets of the Book of Life, they discovered that the Vampire Curse may also bring a surprising benefit. Though it seems destructive, blood rage actually holds the key to a vampire’s ability to produce natural, as opposed to made, children. The first hints were uncovered in an ancient story Ysabeau related about a witch who gave birth to a vampire baby. The baby needed to drink blood in order to live, but the witch’s family refused to feed her anything except milk and so she died of starvation. When Diana conceived the twins with Matthew, it was clear these stories were not mere folklore. The genetic mystery of both their children was finally unveiled when Diana read about the ancient unions between weavers and blood-rage vampires in the complete Book of Life, unions that resulted in the birth of children known as Bright Borns with characteristics of witches and vampires.

Customs and Lore

Most of the common lore about vampires, which was shaped by human fears, is entirely wrong. Vampires can go out in sunlight; holy water has no effect on them; they can be killed by all kinds of bullets, not just silver ones; they do not have fangs; staking them in the heart will be difficult given their strong skin; and they can consume more than human blood. Vampires are strongly drawn to wine, for example, and can eat raw meats, nuts, and berries, something Diana had to research when she was wondering what on earth to cook Matthew on one of their first dates. At least she could rely on him to bring a good bottle of wine.

When feeding, vampires take blood from their prey’s arteries or veins after tearing through its flesh with sharp teeth. Vampires do not have fang straws, as humans believe. While they will often drain an animal food source of its blood and thereby kill it, they try not to kill their human prey as that raises too many questions. Instead they use a bit of their own blood to anesthetize and confuse the victim, if they are feeling charitable. Unfortunately, fear is extremely appetizing to vampires, and they would prefer to drink from humans they have hunted and chased for a while. Over time vampires have learned that feeding on drug addicts, drunks, and other “invisible” humans is easier, because they can skip the niceties and get right down to the meal. Even if the prey tells friends that a vampire fed off him, no one will believe him.

Vampire blood can keep victims in thrall and, with its curative properties, can also be used to heal human wounds. Vampires also gain knowledge of another creature by drinking its blood; they see the creature’s memories through it, which is how Andrew Hubbard controls his flock in London. Vampires take blood from the neck only if it’s from strangers or subordinates; it is an aggressive act. They bite their mate near the heart, from the “heart vein,” as a means of achieving intimacy. To drink from their lover is to know that nothing is hidden, and this was a poignant and powerful turning point in Diana and Matthew’s relationship. Vampire fledglings are fed from the maker’s wrist or elbow.

The single greatest need vampires have, other than hunting and feeding themselves, is to find their vampire mate. Vampires are drawn to their mates through a combination of affinity and chemical compatibility. The bond between mates is irresistible and lasts for a lifetime. The intensity of chemical and emotional responses to mating make it difficult for vampires to let their partners out of their sight, and vampire widows or widowers often attempt suicide to escape the physical and mental anguish associated with the loss of their beloved. Ysabeau’s pain when Philippe died almost drove her mad, and the length of the life still ahead of her is haunted by her yearning and bereavement. Some vampires do mate again, though this is rare. Vampire mates may be other vampires, or they may be humans. In the case of human mates, difficult decisions must be made about whether to turn them into a vampire. Vampires are extraordinarily protective, and possessive, of their mates and mark them with the vampire’s scent to indicate ownership. A vampire will never touch another’s mate without permission, unless they are hostile and willing to face the possibly deadly consequences.

Vampires have a strong sense of family that is similar to that of wolf packs. The head, or sire, of a vampire family—called a clan—has absolute authority. Etiquette requires that this head of the family be addressed as Sieur, as Philippe, Baldwin, and later Matthew all are. The clan’s sire is almost always male, though there have been some famous exceptions, such as Miriam Shephard. The sire’s mate occupies the second highest rank and authority in a vampire clan. When a sire is not mated, that honor can be bestowed on another. Vampire clans are extremely hierarchical, and disobedience is not tolerated. Insubordination often leads to death. In some cases large vampire families are divided into scions with semiautonomous sires who report back to the main clan sire. The most famous vampire clan is the de Clermonts, and Philippe de Clermont was the most highly respected sire in vampire history. The term “sire” can also refer to the vampire who gave his or her blood to create another, though “maker” is more commonly used among vampires.

In addition to making full-blooded vampire children, vampires also have a tradition of adoption. Being the adopted, or blood-sworn, child of a vampire accords you all the rights and privileges of belonging to a clan without having to become a fully fledged vampire. Bloodlines are extremely important in vampire culture, and even the blood-sworn child of a great vampire sire like Philippe de Clermont would be of higher status than the full-blooded child of a lesser creature. According to legend, a vampire’s blood vow sings for a year and a day. All vampires can hear it, but the song is particularly loud and clear to those who carry the maker’s blood in their veins. Thus, before Philippe’s bloodsong on Diana faded, one of his full-blooded children had to acknowledge it; otherwise no other vampire would be obligated to honor her as a true de Clermont. Luckily for Diana, Verin de Clermont kept her promise to her father and on December 6, a year and a day after Philippe’s vow was made, she recognized Diana’s position in the family as Philippe’s blood-sworn daughter.

Myth and History

No one knows the identity of the first vampire or how he or she was made. This question of heritage is what all the creatures are seeking in the missing Book of Origins. Vampires were once far more numerous and potent than in the past few hundred years, though their slow, steady decline began during the Crusades. Vampires like Gerbert d’Aurillac still remember the good old days fondly, when vampires ruled the earth and humans, witches, and daemons were afraid of them. The Vampire Wars of classical antiquity, of which Philippe de Clermont was a veteran, and the early medieval period were both ages when vampires seemed to be in the ascendancy.

Around the time of the Crusades in the eleventh century, Philippe de Clermont set out for the Holy Land to establish a safe haven for creatures. The racial and religious tensions between humans, as well as the clashes between daemons, vampires, and witches, however, made that dream an impossibility. Sadly, the dangers from unwanted human attention that triggered the formation of the Congregation enforced the segregation of creatures that Philippe had hoped to break down. It also forced them to stay out of the limelight of human affairs. The difficulties of wielding overt power had been underscored when ambitious, scheming vampire Gerbert d’Aurillac was elected Pope Sylvester II in A.D. 999. His election inevitably caused complications, and it took the rare cooperation of vampires and witches to give him a convincing death and move him off the world stage. It was Gerbert’s antics as pope that convinced most creatures to agree to the covenant’s restrictions on an active life in human politics and religion. But vampires soon learned that they could control things just as effectively from behind the scenes. Philippe regrouped in this new world order and launched first the Knights Templar and then the Knights of Lazarus, a shadowy, far-reaching de Clermont vampire network that could hold sway with all contemporary powers.

Human myths and beliefs surrounding vampires and their history are driven by the prejudices of religion and politics in particular periods, as well as by unexplained diseases and crime, with certain notorious figures personifying the horror and fear these creatures have incited. The modern idea of the sophisticated, aristocratic vampire became prevalent in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, first with the publication of The Vampyre by John William Polidori and later by Bram Stoker’s novel Dracula in 1897. As Diana Bishop said, Dracula is “the human myth about vampires.”

Stoker’s Dracula shares a name with the fearsome historical figure of Vlad III, the Impaler, from the house of Drăculeşti, and son of Vlad the Dragon. He gained his reputation in the mid-fifteenth century fighting off the invading Ottomans, and is seen as a hero in Romania and Bulgaria. German pamphlets of the time, however, spread Vlad’s reputation for extreme cruelty with grisly details of what he did to his enemies. Vlad’s preferred method of torture and death was impalement. Vlad III has taken his place in modern popular culture as the Dracula and the most notorious vampire of all. Just over a century after Vlad, the murder trial of Hungarian serial killer Erzsébet Báthory, or Elizabeth Bathory (who featured in Godfrey de Clermont’s letter to his father informing him of Benjamin Fuchs’s relationship with her), sparked numerous human legends about the vampire Blood Countess. A flood of witnesses testified to her crimes, relating specifically to the murder of young girls, but Elizabeth was spared the death penalty due to her family and aristocratic standing. She was held at Čachtice Castle in solitary confinement, bricked into rooms until her death was finally reported in 1614. Peter Stubbe, called the Werewolf of Bedburg, was another notorious serial killer in the sixteenth century, a farmer who terrorized his community in Germany, reputedly killing and devouring his victims. Diana read a pamphlet in Tudor London that sensationalized his crimes (she believed he must have been a vampire), and the brutality of his execution showed how much fear Stubbe incited in the human population.

Stories of vampirelike creatures have existed far back into human history, including Roman, Greek, and Hebrew cultures, and folklore all over the world shows parallels with the revenant figure of the undead. But it is Eastern Europe that is the heartland of the vampire myth in modern popular culture. Linguists and historians have looked for the root of the word “vampire” to try to understand its origins. There are several theories: that the Slavic variations upir, upyr, and upior link back to the Turkish word uber, meaning “witch.” Or that it has roots back to the Greek word pi, “to drink.” Today there is general agreement that its root is Slavic, derived from a medieval Serbian word that, when anglicized, becomes vampir. Its meaning may have connections to a time when Christianity was young, clashing with the old pagan gods and their rituals of blood sacrifice.* Diana encountered numerous variations for “vampire”: from the old Occitan word manjasang that Ysabeau uses to the Anglo-Saxon term wearh (monster, criminal, or evil spirit). In Prague nachzehrer, from old German folklore, was used, literally meaning “devourer of the dead,” while the Jews used the word alukah (leech).

Throughout this vampire history, the images, beliefs, and fears are constantly tangled with tales of witches and other creatures, any beings that did not fit into human society. Whatever the origins behind these mythic figures, it is what people believed in a certain age that shaped the acknowledged history. As Matthew said to Diana, “Somewhere in each of these stories, there’s a nugget of truth.”

See also:

CHARACTERS: Gerbert d’Aurillac, Jack Blackfriars, the members of the de Clermont family, Juliette Durand, Benjamin Fox, Andrew Hubbard, Domenico Michele

ORGANIZATIONS: The Congregation, the Conventicle, the Order of the Defeated Dragon

LITERATURE: Peter Stubbe pamphlet

Witches

Aunt Sarah had always told me that magic was a gift. If it was, it had strings attached that bound me to all the Bishop witches who had come before me.

Characteristics

Of the four types of creatures, witches are the only ones that have inherited supernatural powers. Most witches can perform magic using spells and herbs, and some can even harness the powers of nature. Because the practice of witchcraft depends heavily on knowledge and spells that have been recorded over generations, witches are strongly bound to tradition and family.

Witches tend to be highly practical and organized. They are drawn to professions that require a good sense of tradition and the categorization of knowledge, and they often pursue careers as teachers, lawyers, accountants, doctors, nurses, midwives, anthropologists, librarians, and botanists. Vivian, the head of the Madison coven, is an accountant, although Diana’s Aunt Sarah was astonished to find out that Vivian also had a master’s degree in medieval literature. Vivian responded, “Do you have any idea how many English majors are accountants?”

Like other creatures, witches are neither uniformly good nor uniformly evil. Just as some scientists use their knowledge for the advancement of the creature condition and others for destructive purposes, witches can practice magic either for benign or malignant ends. Satu Järvinen employed witchcraft to torture Diana to discover the extent of her powers while Sarah Bishop used it to heal her injuries.

Contrary to human lore, witches are not necessarily warty and hunchbacked (though they can be). They often pass as humans who have outsize personalities and eccentric taste in fashion and decor. Most witches dress for comfort and leave style to the daemons. Diana Bishop, for example, is most comfortable in old yoga pants and a stretchy sweater. Her mother favored loose clothes à la Annie Hall. Other witches prefer dark colors and richly textured fabrics such as velvet. The effect can be either frumpy or stylish, depending on the witch. Because power will out in the end, witches often have long fingernails and unruly hair.

Diana’s hair grows, curls, straightens, and changes color as her powers develop and evolve. She definitely experiences more good-hair days once she begins to release her pent-up magical energy.

Witches can be either female or male. Strictly speaking, the term “witch” applies to women and “wizard” to men, but “witch” is used collectively to refer to both. This is a departure from the old human custom of using the male form of the word to describe a group, probably because witch culture is strongly matriarchal. Many witches recognize the power of the goddess, a threefold deity who represents the maiden, the mother, and the crone. Most witches use their mother’s maiden name as the family name. In the Bishop family, the custom is for Bishop witches (male and female) to keep the Bishop name regardless of marriage.

In the past, university-trained male wizards were more heavy-handed than the witches in their practice of the craft. When Johannes Pistorius probed Diana’s thoughts, she was indignant at his intrusiveness, “which was strikingly similar to Champier’s method for ferreting out my secrets. I was beginning to dislike university-educated witches.” They tended to rely more on book learning than on instinct. Goody Alsop bemoaned the fact that in Elizabethan London all the young wizards had gone off to university to study natural philosophy, a precursor to the natural sciences, thinking books would teach them better than experience.

Diana herself is a historian of science; her thesis at Oxford demonstrated how the new chemistry of the seventeenth century triumphed over the old science of alchemy in the race for intellectual acceptance. She learned, however, that it is a mistake to put scholarship in conflict with magic. Intellectually, magic and science are compatible rather than conflicting ways to master the natural world. One is not superior to the other—they are different roads to the same end.

Even the university-educated witches and wizards agree that a witch’s most prized asset is instinct. Almost all witches, for example, can tell when another witch is lying, because of an instinctive feeling of anger and contempt that arises. Even before Diana fully possessed her powers, she used her instincts. In the beginning she didn’t realize how much she relied on them. Couldn’t everyone walk through the woods with her eyes closed and arrange ideas on an invisible whiteboard?

Since history has demonstrated that humans often resent their witch neighbors, witches do their best to hide magical abilities from the rest of the population—despite insatiable human interest in the subject. Of course, witches living in more accepting populations can feel freer to express themselves; witness Sarah Bishop’s MY OTHER CAR IS A BROOM bumper sticker. Witches have also found it beneficial to cultivate relationships with human communities by sharing their spells for fixing appliances, opening stuck locks, and curing insomnia.

Most witches develop magical powers around puberty, though there are often signs of talent years earlier. Such outbursts of magic are difficult to predict and control, rendering the early school years a challenging time for witch parents. As they develop, witches can exhibit two kinds of inherited talent: the use of spells or witchcraft, known as the craft, and/or elemental magic, which involves the control and manipulation of fire, air, earth, and water without use of spells. Elemental magic is power that a witch simply has and can wield as he or she likes. Stephen Proctor described elemental magic as the warp of the magical world, and spells the weft.

Witches who practice the craft avidly collect and perfect spells handed down through the ages, adapting them to modern situations. This is challenging in an age of rapidly changing technology. When her computer froze, the witch Abby Pratt tried in vain to fix it using old spells for stuck wheels and broken locks. New spells were needed, and only a rare kind of witch called a weaver can create them.

According to Goody Alsop, “To be a weaver is to be tied to the world around you and see it in strands and hues. While some ties fetter your magic, others yoke the power in your blood to the four elements and the great mysteries that lie beyond them. Weavers learn how to release the ties that bind and use the rest.” A beginning weaver learns to create spells by tying colored cords into knots. Later, as she masters the art, the cords and knots become invisible. A weaver can perform only spells that she herself has created.

Weavers often have a third eye that provides perception beyond ordinary sight, and Diana’s is located in the center of her forehead. With it Diana was able to see young Jack Blackfriars’s empty stomach, the nimbus of light that surrounded the firewitch Catherine Streeter, and the faces of people she hasn’t yet met. The eminently pragmatic Sarah views Diana’s third eye as a radio, one that (with practice) could be tuned in to the proper frequencies to make it most useful.

Genetics and Reproduction

Like vampires, witches are distinct from the human and daemon populations in that they possess twenty-four chromosomal pairs in every cell nucleus. Until Diana Bishop’s DNA was analyzed, geneticists studying the witch population believed that all witches descended from one of four female witch ancestors. A witch’s female line of descent can be traced through her mitochondrial DNA, and the four genetic witch lineages are classified under clans, with clan mothers. The first witch, from whom they all claim matrilineal descent, was dubbed mtLilith (Miriam Shephard and Marcus Whitmore chose her fitting name). mtLilith is the equivalent of mitochondrial Eve—mtEve for short. mtEve’s seven known daughters, also clan mothers, are considered the most recent common matrilineal ancestors of every human of Western European descent. Diana’s genetic lineage is different from that of other witches, however. She is from a fifth, previously unknown, clan which Matthew names Clan Heh. Clan Heh could be another line of descent from mtLilith, or it could descend from a sister of mtLilith. Whichever it is, without Diana’s children Clan Heh could die out entirely.

Witches descend from other witches, but not all children of witches are so fortunate as to have power. When Peter Knox examined Diana as a child and found her devoid of magical abilities, he was surprised but it was within the realm of possibility. The common wisdom is that witches give birth only to other witches, but there are exceptions. Sophie Norman is a daemon who was descended from witches, for example. Sophie married another daemon, but she gave birth to a witch. Because of the covenant that forbade the intermingling of creature types, not much is known about the reproductive abilities of creatures. Matthew is a pioneer in this field of research.

Modern witches are not as powerful as their ancestors and do not produce as many children. Matthew’s initial theory was that as time went by and witches relied less and less on witchcraft and magic to survive, their changing needs forced DNA mutations that rendered the magic less powerful. Later he and Diana learned that weavers in the past had been actively sought out and murdered by other witches. And Rabbi Loew said that fewer weavers were born after the Congregation established the covenant against creature intermingling.

Creature intermingling turns out to be the key to the continued existence not only of witches but of all the creatures. The Book of Life’s revelation of the existence of the Bright Born, whose supernatural power and long life derive from their cross-creature parentage, explains the birth of Diana’s children, who are representatives of the new Bright Born generation.

Customs and Lore

Witches are strongly bound to the customs and lore that have been passed down through generations. These form the foundation of rituals, celebrations, talismans, and other expressions of witch culture.

Bell, book, and candle: The degree of supernatural ability varies widely from one witch to another. Traditionally witches were examined around puberty by local coven leaders, and those who showed promise were brought to the attention of Congregation officials. These officials organized tests and competitions to ensure that the most gifted young witches were appropriately trained and cultivated. Both Rebecca Bishop and Peter Knox participated in these events. In modern times the Congregation expanded their examinations to include children who showed no signs of talent as well.

Diana Bishop was examined by Congregation officials at an early age, and her lack of magical talent was confirmed at age thirteen when she failed to complete the witch’s traditional coming-of-age ceremony, known as bell, book, and candle. According to Widow Beaton, when a witch was discovered in times past, her neighbors cast her out of the church by ringing a bell to show that she was dead, closing the Bible to show that she was denied access to God, and snuffing out a candle to indicate that she had no soul. This ceremony continued into modern times in a somewhat changed form: Altar bells rang to welcome the young witch into the community; representatives of the witch’s family closed their cherished family spellbook and then extinguished a candle. A true witch was supposed to be able to stop the bells, open the book, and relight the candle. As a weaver who cannot follow the spells made by other witches, Diana failed miserably.

Blood singing: A witch’s blood sings, but so softly that only vampires can hear it. Each bloodsong has a unique signature, like a fingerprint. Vampires can identify bloodsongs and can hear a witch’s blood sing before the witch is visible. Philippe’s blood vow on Diana sings as well—but that’s a vampire’s tale to tell.

Brooms: Witches don’t use brooms to fly; flying comes naturally to windwitches and those who have inherited a power over air, like Diana Bishop or Emily Mather. In modern times brooms appear in human popular culture, and witches have adopted them as tongue-in-cheek references to a witch’s power. In sixteenth-century London, however, witches used their brooms to perform spells, for example, during the ritual when Diana became a weaver.

Covens: A coven is an association of witches formed for the sake of safety, protection, and community. The support of friends is vital to a group that has been feared and persecuted for millennia. Gillian Chamberlain reminded Diana of this when she invited her to the Mabon celebration of the Oxford coven, but at that point Diana was in denial of her powers and (rightly) suspicious of Gillian’s motives. Only later, in sixteenth-century London, did she come to appreciate the support of a sympathetic coven.

Throughout history covens were organized geographically. In England, for example, witches based coven membership on Christian parish boundaries. In the London of the 1500s, covens (then called gatherings) were organized into larger districts known as wards, each of which sent one elder to a larger organization called the Rede. Though the number of witches today is rarely large enough to support the elaborate coven structure of the medieval and early modern period, and fear of human reprisals makes formal organization undesirable, some areas (Salem, Massachusetts; Madison, New York; London, England; parts of Central Europe; the Guangdong region of China) do still have covens.

Devil worship: Contrary to countless human accusations, witches do not worship the devil. The devil is part of the Christian belief system. Witches honor many deities, chief among them the goddess, who is associated with the eternal cycle of birth, growth, and death.

Familiars: Especially in early modern England, witches were assumed to have a familiar—an animal-shaped spirit that served as both companion and magical helpmate. The most common was a black cat or a black dog, although during times of witch hysteria the possession of any unusual pet could lead to accusations of witchcraft. In reality, weavers are the only witches that possess familiars. These animals help them master their abilities and serve as an extension of their talents. Diana’s familiar is a firedrake named Corra. Stephen Proctor’s was a bird named Bennu. And Goody Alsop’s familiar was a fetch—an airy image of herself.

Grimoires: Grimoires are the official record of a witch family’s spells and history. They contain everything from annotated spells to treasured family recipes, such as Em’s Famous Vanilla Vampire Walnuts. The Bishop grimoire dates back to Rebecca Davies, Bridget Bishop’s grandmother, whom Diana met in 1591 London. Diana’s mother, Rebecca, kept a separate, secret grimoire she called her Book of Shadows. Rebecca recorded her darker magics in her Book of Shadows, such as spells “to summon a spirit recently dead and question it.” Family grimoires are proudly displayed on formal occasions such as the bell, book, and candle ceremony.

Marking the passing of the year: Witches rely on the power of nature to work their elemental powers or spells. The changing of the seasons and the waxing and waning of the moon represent moments of particular importance in their year. The lunar calendar, for example, marks the passing of months, and there is a detailed plant lore that dictates when witches should traditionally plant their herbs, harvest them, and make them into magically potent preparations. Some of the more popular witch festivals include Lughnasadh, the first of three Wiccan harvest festivals, and Mabon. Mabon is a pagan ritual of thanksgiving for the fruits of the earth and a recognition of the need to share them to secure the blessings of the goddess during the coming winter months. It is an important celebration for witches and has special significance to Diana and Matthew, because that is the day they first met.

Myth and History

Witches have existed for millennia. According to Hebrew folklore, the first woman, Lilith, was also the first witch; she left Adam because he demanded sexual subservience. “Why must I lie beneath you?” she asked. “I also was made from dust, and am therefore your equal.”* In ancient times Lilith was known as a creature of the night, goddess of the wind and moon, and the mate of Samael, the angel of death. In modern times she is sometimes called the first feminist.

In the beginning of the All Souls world, the witches known as weavers were able to devise new spells as opposed to repeating or adapting old ones. They did so using weavers’ knots and by binding and unbinding the powers of nature. Gradually other witches grew to fear the power of the weavers in their midst and the attention they engendered in humans. In the twelfth century, around the time that the Catholic Church began to seek out a variety of heretics, witches attempted to exterminate all known weavers and their offspring. They did this for their own safety and to preserve the old ways, but it had the undesirable result of stultifying magical culture.

Human, vampire, and daemonic persecution of witches has a long history. In the Judeo-Christian tradition, passages in the Old Testament have been used to justify the killing of witches. In the early 400s, St. Augustine argued that because only God could suspend the laws of nature, witchcraft was simply a delusion, deserving punishment but not death. Yet as suppression of all heretics (including Jews, magicians, and homosexuals) developed in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, the attitude toward witches grew less tolerant. In 1484 Pope Innocent VIII declared that witches in Germany were consorting with devils and casting spells that destroyed crops and aborted infants. He asked for a full report on this activity. The result was the famous Malleus Maleficarum, or Hammer of Witches, the most influential witch-hunting manual ever produced. After its publication it was a heresy for a good Christian not to believe in witches.

The Malleus Maleficarum bolstered the beliefs held by generations of theologians and judges that witchcraft subverted the rule of heavenly and earthly order. As far as the common people were concerned, the witch neighbors who cured their rashes and helped deliver their children were just as capable of causing crop failures and other tragedies. There are almost as many theories about the causes of witchcraft trials as there are historians, but there is no question that witches made convenient scapegoats for human problems during the period of the witch-hunts.

The changing whims of rulers and others in political power could also affect the status of witches. King James VI of Scotland had initially been tolerant of witches but changed his mind after experiencing terrible storms on the way back from Copenhagen with his new Danish queen in 1589. The Danes who were escorting the couple home blamed witchcraft, and trials were held in Denmark to punish the malefactors. James then set up his own tribunal in Scotland, which came to be known as the North Berwick Witch Trials.

In the Berwick trials, officials arrested a young Scottish servant on suspicion of witchcraft in 1590. Under torture she named many others, including John Fian, a local schoolmaster; Agnes Sampson, a cunning woman (actually a weaver), healer, and midwife; and Barbara Napier, the widow of Earl Archibald of Angus. Agnes Sampson and John Fian were tortured and eventually executed, though Fian bravely recanted his initial confession and his legs were crushed by a pair of iron boots. Barbara Napier escaped her fate for a time by claiming to be pregnant (with the support of Gallowglass’s companion Davy Hancock) but was eventually executed as well.

Witch trials took place in various European countries and in the American colonies from the fourteenth through the eighteenth centuries. It is difficult to know how many witches were executed. Modern scholars put the number at roughly forty to fifty thousand. In Great Britain the trials came to an end when the Witchcraft Act of 1735 made it a crime for a person to claim that any human being had magical powers or was guilty of practicing witchcraft. It is interesting to note that even then, the humans who crafted the laws were careful to acknowledge the traditional distinction between elemental magic and the craft, and to include both types of power in their rules.

In the American colonies, witch-hunts occurred mainly in Massachusetts and Connecticut. The most famous trials occurred around Salem, Massachusetts, in 1692–93. The towns involved included Salem Village (now Danvers), Salem Town, Ipswich, and Andover. Nineteen of the convicted witches were executed by hanging, the first being Diana’s ancestor Bridget Bishop. One of the most damaging pieces of evidence against Bridget was that she possessed poppets, which were dolls used in spell casting. One of these poppets survived the centuries to play an important role in Diana and Matthew’s quest to find the Book of Life. An accused wizard was the twentieth victim. He was pressed to death under a board for refusing to dignify the court with any plea at all. Contrary to popular belief, no witches were ever burned in America.

The days of persecution for witchcraft are not past,* especially in the developing world. In Western cultures humans often refuse to believe in the existence of witches (or vampires, or daemons), but they are not much more tolerant of difference than were their medieval ancestors.

See also:

CHARACTERS: Goody Alsop, the members of the Bishop family, Gillian Chamberlain, Vivian Harrison, Peter Knox, Satu Järvinen, Emily Mather, Stephen Proctor, Catherine Streeter

MAGIC

LIFESTYLES: All Souls Recipes, Herbs and Medicinals

LITERATURE: The Discovery of Witches, Malleus Maleficarum, “Body’s Beauty” (Lady Lilith)

Many readers ask me which creature I’d want to be if I could choose. You know, I think I’m happy being human. Witches bear too much responsibility, vampire lives are long and challenging, and daemons are chronically misunderstood. I would like a vampire’s private jet, though.

If you could be a witch, daemon, or vampire, which would you choose?

To find out, take the creature quiz here: deborahharkness.com

Characters

A

ALAIN & VICTOIRE

Full names: Alain Le Merle, Victoire Le Merle

Origin of name: Of French origin, from the word “merle” (and Latin, merula) meaning “blackbird”

Date of birth: Unknown

Date of rebirth: Unknown

Physical description: Alain has salt-and-pepper hair, lines around his kind eyes, and a wiry build. He has a slight hitch in his gait.

Family and romantic relationships: Alain and Victoire were made into vampires by Marthe, another of the de Clermonts’ most trusted servants, and have been lifelong mates.

Personal history: Alain began as Philippe de Clermont’s squire, and Marthe turned him into a vampire soon after. He knows every aspect of the Knights of Lazarus business, and when Philippe died, he transferred his allegiance to Matthew. A servant in the de Clermont household for centuries, Alain is unwaveringly loyal to the family. Matthew knows he can always trust and turn to him. As well as French, Alain speaks flawless English. Victoire is as loyal a servant as her husband, seeing to the needs of the de Clermonts, from making new clothes for Diana to looking after the twins, Rebecca and Philip.

GOODY ALSOP

Full name: Goodwife Alsop

Origin of name: Goody is a shortened form of Goodwife, a polite form of address for women who are not of high enough social standing to be called Mistress. Alsop is an old surname of Anglo-Saxon origin.

Date of birth: January 30, 1510

Astrological sign: Aquarius

Physical description: Old and thin, with fine features and stooped shoulders

A member of: The St. James Garlickhythe gathering/coven

Family and romantic relationships: Her husband, Thomas Skelton, was a blacksmith and a well-respected witch.

Personal history: Goody Alsop was a weaver, one of the last remaining in the British Isles at that time, a windwitch and leader of the St. James Garlickhythe gathering in sixteenth-century London. She taught Diana what it meant to be a weaver and how to unlock her powers, and she was herself an apprentice to the famous witch and powerful seer Ursula Shipton. Perhaps one of the most important lessons Goody taught Diana is that “every weaving is as unique as the weaver who makes it. The goddess does not want us to imitate some ideal of perfection, but to be our true selves.”

GERBERT D’AURILLAC

Full name and other names: Gerbert of Aurillac, Pope Sylvester II

Origin of name: Aurillac is the town in the Auvergne, France, where Gerbert is from.

Date of birth: c. A.D. 700 (alternatively recorded as c. A.D. 946)

Date of rebirth: c. A.D. 740

Physical description: Gerbert appears to be over fifty. He is of average height by modern standards, at about five-ten. With a slightly receding hairline, high cheekbones, deep-set eyes, and a prominent nose, he is rather cadaverous in appearance. An impression of Gerbert as Pope Sylvester II can be seen inside the Basilica of Saint Paul Outside the Walls in Rome.

A member of: The Congregation

Family and romantic relationships: The historical records for Gerbert’s human parentage point to humble origins in the south of France.

In the Middle Ages there were rumors he was involved with the succubus Meridiana. Gerbert is now head of his own vampire clan based in the Cantal. His host of dangerous vampire children included the unstable Juliette Durand. He has no mate and uses relationships only for his own ends.

Personal history: Gerbert is a schemer as well as a vampire, which enables his plots to unfold over a very long span of time. This ensures that his maneuvering is almost impossible to track unless you are older and wiser than he is—and few creatures can make that claim.

Like Matthew, Gerbert is a native of the Auvergne, although he was born a few centuries after Matthew. He struggled through his childhood in a large and competitive vampire pack. When his maker was killed in the last of France’s Vampire Wars, falling in battle to his great rival Philippe de Clermont, it was Gerbert who eventually assumed clan leadership. This was achieved through murder, skulduggery, and underhanded tactics rather than via a legitimate claim—a hallmark of Gerbert’s leadership style. It also made Gerbert a devoted enemy of the de Clermonts, though at times he and Ysabeau de Clermont have managed to work amicably together against their shared enemy, the witches.

Gerbert decided in the tenth century that the Catholic Church provided a way to advance his own agenda—namely, domesticating the human population into a permanent class of livestock to serve vampire interests. As the church’s power grew and humans followed it in great numbers, Gerbert decided to align himself with it. He entered a monastery and went on to study in Spain, immersing himself in rich intellectual centers of Islamic learning such as Córdoba and Seville. This gave Gerbert access to works unknown or lost to Europe from the classical period (as was the case for Matthew de Clermont, who also studied in Córdoba around this time). He particularly focused on mathematics and astronomy. Later traveling to Rome, Gerbert rose to prominence within the church hierarchy. Eventually he was elected pope and was known as Sylvester II.

As the first French pope and a man of great scholarship, Pope Sylvester II was famed for reintroducing the abacus and the armillary sphere to Europe, as well as complicated Arabic arithmetic. His scholarship also drew great suspicion from his contemporaries, and dark legends grew around him. The English monk William of Malmesbury described in his eleventh-century chronicles how Gerbert had made a pact with the devil and while studying in Spain had stolen a precious book from an Arab philosopher there. Coveting the book’s secrets, Gerbert had seduced the man’s daughter to aid him in his theft. Gerbert was also said to have been in league with a demon, Meridiana, who helped him in his ascendency to the highest position in the church, and that he built a brazen head, which could divine the future. As All Souls readers know, it was in fact the Book of Life that Gerbert stole from a great wizard in Toledo, and Meridiana was a weaver whom he held in thrall, attempting, unsuccessfully, to use her power to unlock the manuscript’s secrets.

Gerbert’s activities as Pope Sylvester II, and the ensuing complications of staging his “death” in 1003, led directly to the Congregation’s ban on creatures taking any further public role in human politics and religion.

Gerbert’s greatest desire is the triumph of vampire culture over daemons, humans, and witches. A staunch conservative and a believer in the innate superiority of the vampire race, Gerbert dislikes the covenant. He hopes to dispense with it and the Congregation once he achieves his aims of vampire domination. He’s been working on this plan steadily behind the scenes since around 1100 and has amassed an enormous clan of disenchanted, angry vampires. They are based in the Cantal but have migrated far and wide and can be found in banks, universities, churches, synagogues, mosques, and political institutions all around the world. Gerbert’s only obstacle is the witches. Thus he has made a study of magic and the occult and has been known to try to transform witches and even daemons into vampires to see if something magical might come of it. Most of his experiments have been a disaster. He knew about weavers before Diana’s revelation to the Congregation and was the one who fed Benjamin Fox information to work against the de Clermonts. The full extent of Gerbert’s malign plotting through the centuries has now become clear to the de Clermonts, and they will deal with him when the time is right.

B

WIDOW BEATON

Widow Beaton was a very old cunning woman (folk healer or white witch) and midwife of sixteenth-century Woodstock. She looked like the witch from central casting: diminutive, bent, and ancient, with stringy white hair and leathery skin. Against Diana’s better judgment, Matthew called on her to help evaluate Diana’s magical abilities, with nearly disastrous results.

JOSEPH BIDWELL, SENIOR AND JUNIOR

The Bidwells, father and son, were shoemakers in sixteenth-century Woodstock. A tall and underfed pair, the son even slighter than his father, they both possessed weak constitutions. They were more than a little fearful of Matthew Roydon and his household, whom they were accustomed to fitting for shoes. The Bidwells might not have pegged Roydon and his friends as wearhs, witches, and daemons, but they did seem to have realized that many of the residents of the Old Lodge were not quite human.

BRIDGET BISHOP

Full name and other names: Bridget Playfer, Bridget Wasselbe, Bridget Oliver

Origin of name: Bridget is a Celtic/Irish female name derived from the noun brígh, meaning “power, strength, vigor, virtue.” In Irish mythology Brighid was the name of the goddess of fire, poetry, and wisdom. The surname Bishop has ancient Greek, pre-Christian origins. It derives from the word episkopos, which translates to “overseer.” The early Christians adopted the word for the head of their local communities, and from the fourth century A.D. it was applied to a religious leader (this would not have pleased the good citizens of Salem at all).

Date of birth: c. 1632

Family and romantic relationships: Daughter of Rebecca Playfer; mother of Rebecca Bishop; ancestor of Diana Bishop

Personal history: Bridget Bishop was the first person to be executed for the crime of witchcraft in Salem, Massachusetts, in the panic of 1692. Bridget is sometimes portrayed as a tavern keeper, but this may be due to confusion (even during the trial) with a different woman named Sarah Bishop. Bridget was, however, known for rather showy dress (including a red bodice!) and for having loud public fights with her second husband. He apparently beat her black and blue, and she had the temerity to strike back and call him old rogue and old devil—even on the Sabbath. A year after he died, in 1680, Bridget was arrested for witchcraft. She was not convicted, but this prior arrest did not help her case in 1692. The sharp-tongued and assertive Bridget did not fit the profile of a proper Puritan woman, and this probably contributed to her downfall.

When Bridget entered the courtroom in Salem, her accusers fell into fits and Bridget’s calm declarations of innocence went unregarded. Much of the evidence against her was spectral—testimony that the accused person’s shape appeared to the witness in a dream, at a time when the person’s physical body was elsewhere. Bridget was also examined to see if she had a “witch’s teat” on her body, where she would suckle demonic imps. Her examiners initially found such a mark, but when they examined her a second time, it had disappeared. Ironically, this was taken as evidence that she was guilty. She also, as we know, kept poppets in her house, for which she had no convincing explanation.

Bridget Bishop was hanged on June 10, 1692. Her ghost now resides in the Bishop house in Madison, New York, where she occasionally dispenses advice to Diana: “Whichever way you go, you must choose him.”

DIANA BISHOP

Origin of name: The name Diana probably derives from an Indo-European root word referring to the divine. In Roman mythology Diana was the goddess of the hunt, forests, and childbirth, and she had the power to talk to animals. The goddess had a twin brother, Apollo; Diana, too, had a twin brother, but he died in the womb.

Date of birth: August 13, 1976 (Friday the 13th, and the ancient Feast of the Goddess Diana)

Astrological sign: Leo

Physical description: Diana is about five-eight, with long hair that changes color and texture as her power grows and the desire to remain invisible gives way to confidence. When we first met her, her hair was blond and staticky, a condition that Sarah attributed to Diana’s pent-up magic. When she returned to the year 2010 in full possession of her powers, her hair was strawberry blond and straight, like her mother’s. She is fair-skinned and a little freckled, with a slightly long nose and a pronounced chin. According to her friend Chris Roberts, her eyes are “crazy blue-and-gold starbursts.” She has the body of an athlete, muscular and strong. Despite her efforts to blend in with humans, Diana is a striking woman.

A member of: New College, Oxford University, Yale University, the Conventicle, the Congregation

Family and romantic relationships: Daughter of Stephen Proctor and Rebecca Bishop; blood-sworn daughter of vampire Philippe de Clermont; lover and wife of vampire Matthew Clairmont; and mother to twins, the Bright Borns Rebecca and Philip Bishop-Clairmont.

Personal history: Diana is a conundrum. Not even she understands who she is or why she behaves as she does. In a secretive subculture, she is the ultimate mystery.

Diana was born, a caulbearer, on the feast day of the goddess who is her namesake. Her parents were both witches. Through her mother Diana is the last direct descendant of Bridget Bishop, who was executed in Salem in 1692. (Like most witches, Bishops keep their name after marriage.) Given her ancestor’s fate, it’s not surprising that Diana was reluctant to be involved in the family business. What was surprising was that Diana seemed to have inherited none of her mother’s magical talent. Tests undertaken by the Congregation when Diana was a small child confirmed that she showed no magical promise. In fact, Diana’s parents had deliberately spellbound her to hide her magical abilities. They knew her powers were so great that young Diana would be in danger from the Congregation and other power-seeking witches. They also knew that they would not be around to protect her.

When Diana was seven, her parents were murdered while doing anthropological fieldwork in Africa. Diana went to live in Madison, New York, with her aunts, Sarah and Emily. They were very kind, but Diana was traumatized by her parents’ death and withdrew from other witches because of her lack of magical abilities and from humans because she believed they had killed her parents. As she grew older, she clashed frequently with her Aunt Sarah, a gifted practitioner of witchcraft who couldn’t understand Diana’s rejection of magic. As a defense Diana pinned her sense of self-worth on her intelligence and took refuge in her studies—especially science, which she saw as the rational alternative to magic. She skipped her final year of high school, graduated from Bates College with honors, and went straight to New College, Oxford, for her D.Phil. At Oxford, Diana wrote a thesis on the chemistry of Robert Boyle, demonstrating how the new chemistry triumphed over the old science of alchemy in the race for intellectual acceptance.

With her scholarly credentials in place, Diana focused on conquering the academic world. She won a coveted teaching position at Yale University and was awarded early tenure. She continued to work on the growth of scientific culture in the seventeenth century, with a focus on the development of chemistry and laboratory culture. Her well-ordered life now appeared safe from the dangers of being a witch in a largely human world. But this seeming safety came at a high cost—the sublimation of her true self. Diana is not even entirely successful at that, since humans sense that she is something different and rare.

Diana was still an isolated figure when she went to Oxford on sabbatical. Her one good friend was Chris Roberts. The stress of passing as human caused a great deal of anxiety, so Diana relied on strenuous physical activity to relieve her high levels of adrenaline. Constant exercise—rowing on the river, running, practicing yoga, riding horses—provided a respite from the mental effort required to maintain control. Only when she was in motion did she feel truly free.

Because Diana couldn’t be honest with other creatures, she had had few real relationships. Whenever someone developed an attachment to her—and it did happen now and again—she ran. Matthew was the first exception to this rule, and it was through the increasing honesty between them that Diana began to discover who she truly is. Ultimately it was not Matthew who made this possible but the process of letting go of her secrets. Matthew, too, came to accept his flawed self in the context of his relationship with Diana.

Diana always knew she had a touch of magical talent, though she preferred to dismiss it. As a teenager she always picked up the phone a good minute before it rang, and when she was angry, the chairs in the house piled up into a precarious pyramid, crashing back to the floor once her mood had lifted. Because she could never control her magic as other witches could, she viewed these manifestations of power as an embarrassment. Diana has learned, however, that she is not simply a witch but a weaver—a rare survivor of the ancient lineage of spellmakers who were deliberately killed off in the Middle Ages. With this understanding she is finally able to respect and make use of her special talents.

Diana is a fascinating blend of weaknesses and strengths. At times she is subject to paralyzing fear; for example, the first time she met Matthew, she instinctively ran in panic. When someone she loves is threatened, however, she can be brave to the point of recklessness. Diana emerges as the ultimate warrior, the one upon whom others rely to keep a cool head. Philippe recognized this when he gave her this advice: “Think—and stay alive.” Because all her attention is focused on hiding, Diana pays too little attention to her environment and tends to walk into lampposts, walls, and other creatures. When she relies solely on instinct to guide her, on the other hand, she can walk or row unerringly with her eyes closed. Thanks to her faith in rationality, Diana has an irritating belief that she is always right and that her intellect can get her out of any jam. But in sixteenth-century London, she had to acknowledge that in matters of magic she had much to learn. As Goody Alsop told her, “You are a weaver and must learn to control your power,” something Diana did not know much about. It is only when she embraces the intuitive, instinctive side of herself that she realizes her true power.

For those readers wondering if Diana will become a vampire, the answer is no. Diana is now happy being a witch. Also, Matthew loves her as she is and wouldn’t want her to change.

PHILIP BISHOP-CLAIRMONT

Full name: Philip Michael Addison Sorley Bishop-Clairmont

Origin of name: Philip is for Philippe, the baby’s paternal grandfather; Michael comes from the de Clermont tradition of bestowing the name of an archangel on members of Matthew’s family; Addison is the middle name of the baby’s maternal grandfather, Stephen Proctor; and Sorley is one of Gallowglass’s names.

Date of birth: November 22, 2010

Astrological sign: Sagittarius

Physical description: Reddish-blond hair, blue eyes, taller and bigger than his twin sister

Family and romantic relationships: Son of Matthew Clairmont and Diana Bishop and twin brother of Rebecca Bishop-Clairmont.

Personal history: Philip is one of the Bright Born, the offspring of both a vampire and a witch. He is content to remain quiet and observe his surroundings, like his father, but like his mother he has a great deal of potential for magic.

REBECCA BISHOP

Rebecca was daughter of Bridget Bishop by her first marriage and half sister to Christian Oliver. She was an ancestor of Joanna, Rebecca, Sarah, and Diana Bishop. Born in England around the year 1650, she came to the American colonies with her mother. After Bridget Bishop’s execution for witchcraft in 1692, Rebecca took her mother’s surname, starting a proud tradition among Bishop witches.

REBECCA BISHOP

Origin of name: Rebecca means “snare,” “noose,” “tied up,” “secured,” and even “beautifully ensnaring.”

Date of birth: September 4, 1948

Astrological sign: Virgo

Physical description: Average height, strawberry-blond hair, blue eyes. Her greatest feature was her smile, which was wide and genuine. Her style guru was Annie Hall, and she favored thrift-store finds, men’s jackets, and baggy trousers.

A member of: Harvard University faculty

Family and romantic relationships: Married to Stephen Proctor and mother of Diana Bishop. She and her sister, Sarah Bishop, are from a long line of Bishops, through their mother, Joanna Bishop.

Personal history: Rebecca Bishop was the most talented witch of her generation. Great things were anticipated of her, as she showed abilities for spellcasting and a sense of premonition that were extraordinary for a teenage witch. Rebecca beat Peter Knox in a Congregation competition set up to identify the next generation of the magical elite. The Bishops were proud of her potential, and other American witches predicted that the Bishop lineage was about to shine as it hadn’t since Salem.

But Rebecca seemed to throw away her magical promise on a career as an anthropologist and a romance with an underachieving wizard. While pursuing a graduate degree in anthropology from Harvard University, she fell in love with a more senior graduate student, Stephen Proctor. The two married and went on to acquire teaching positions at area schools—Rebecca at Harvard and Stephen at Wellesley. Soon after their marriage, Rebecca became pregnant with their first, and only, child: Diana.

Rebecca was a highly intelligent woman and a talented practitioner of both white magic and the higher, darker magics. No one is quite sure what level Rebecca reached in her proficiency in the darker magics; like her daughter, Rebecca was adept at keeping secrets. Tragically, Rebecca died in Nigeria with her husband in 1983, leaving Diana an orphan in the care of Sarah Bishop.

REBECCA BISHOP-CLAIRMONT

Full name: Rebecca Arielle Emily Marthe Bishop-Clairmont

Origin of name: Rebecca is for the baby’s maternal grandmother; Arielle comes from the de Clermont tradition of bestowing the name of an archangel on members of Matthew’s family; Emily is for Rebecca’s other grandparent, Emily Mather; and Marthe is for Ysabeau’s servant, who played an important role in Rebecca’s conception and birth.

Date of birth: November 21, 2010

Astrological sign: Scorpio

Physical description: Jet-black hair, brilliant gray-green eyes, milky skin

Family and romantic relationships: Daughter of Matthew Clairmont and Diana Bishop and twin sister of Philip Bishop-Clairmont.

Personal history: Rebecca is one of the Bright Born, the offspring of both a vampire and a witch. She requires not only milk but blood to thrive and is restless and curious, like her mother.

SARAH BISHOP

Origin of name: Sarah means “lady” or “princess” in Hebrew. Sarah was Abraham’s wife in the Old Testament, and her name was originally Sarai (“quarrelsome”), but God later changed it. In this case the original meaning seems more apt.

Date of birth: May 7, 1950

Astrological sign: Taurus

Physical description: Sarah is of average height, more than a little plump, with wild red hair.

A member of: The Madison coven, the Conventicle

Family and romantic relationships: Aunt to Diana Bishop through her sister, Rebecca Bishop. Her partner was witch Emily Mather.

Personal history: Sarah Bishop is a worthy descendant of the sharp-tongued Bridget Bishop. Sarah always says exactly what’s on her mind, the consequences be damned. She has been the overlooked Bishop witch because her elder sister, Rebecca, exhibited far greater talent. Nevertheless, Sarah is proud to be a Bishop and conscious of her position in the witch world because of her name and lineage. She finds her niece intensely irritating, because Diana seemed intent on denying the family legacy of which Sarah is so proud. Outside her circle of fellow witches, Sarah has a healthy mistrust of other creatures, especially vampires, whom she considers well below cats on the evolutionary scale. (Sarah’s constant companion is her gray cat, Tabitha, a superior feline who believes she is the head of the household.)

Sarah is an expert in the craft, with encyclopedic knowledge of herbs and the healing arts. She has almost no elemental talents. She despaired of Diana’s magical abilities because Diana had never been successful in implementing the spells Sarah gave her. Sarah is a by-the-book sort of witch, whereas Diana is almost entirely intuitive. Sarah’s prized possession is the Bishop grimoire.

Over the years Sarah has held a number of jobs for a short period of time. Office work doesn’t really suit her; she gives too much unsolicited advice at the till to work retail; and her people skills (or lack thereof) rule out a customer-service job. Sarah makes a living these days peddling herbal and magical cures to the creatures of Madison County—including the humans. She is also a trained midwife and officiates at traditional births in the area. Sarah revels in her reputation as the town witch and eccentric and believes that this, too, is part of the Bishop legacy.

Sarah’s partner, Emily Mather, was Rebecca Bishop’s best friend. Sarah and Emily met and fell in love soon after Rebecca’s and Stephen’s deaths, when Emily moved to Madison to watch over Diana. Emily’s tragic death at the hands of Peter Knox and Gerbert d’Aurillac devastated Sarah, who must now learn to live without her. The Bishop-Clairmonts help to occupy her time—especially seeing to the needs of boisterous twin babies.

JACK BLACKFRIARS

Origin of name: Blackfriars is the area of London where Jack is from.

Date of birth: c. 1583

Astrological birth sign: Unknown

Date of rebirth: August 8, 1603

Astrological rebirth sign: Leo

Physical description: Jack was a scrawny, underfed street boy. On his rebirth he was about twenty years old, six feet tall, with a rangy frame. His eyes are golden brown, with gold and leafy-green flecks, and his smile lifts slightly higher to the left corner.

A member of: Bishop-Clairmont scion, Andrew Hubbard’s London gang

Family and romantic relationships: An orphan adopted by Diana and Matthew in 1590. Jack’s vampire sire is Father Hubbard; his grandsire is Benjamin Fox. When the Bishop-Clairmont scion was formed, he finally found his family again and was named godfather to Philip Bishop-Clairmont.

Personal history: Jack is a troubled, loving, artistic, and intense boy and the treasured adopted son of Diana and Matthew. He was a skin-and-bones urchin surviving through thievery on the streets of Blackfriars when they rescued him. He can remember clearly the victory celebrations around the defeat of the Spanish Armada in 1588 and so estimates he was born roughly five years before that. The hardship and violence Jack suffered in his earliest years gave him terrible nightmares as a boy. Matthew encouraged him to exorcise his fears through drawing. Despite these nightly terrors, however, Jack was also mischievous and enthusiastic. To keep him out of trouble, Diana arranged for Master William Shakespeare to tutor him, along with the young witch Annie Undercroft.

Andrew Hubbard took on the role of guardian for Jack and Annie after Diana and Matthew’s departure from sixteenth-century London. Diana had made Hubbard promise to look after them. When plague hit London in the early seventeenth century and Annie fell victim, it looked as if Jack would follow. But Father Hubbard gave him the choice to survive and see Diana again, and so Jack became a vampire, joining Hubbard’s family and his London gang.

Tragically, the blood rage that Hubbard passed on manifested in Jack. Benjamin found out about his grandson and fed Jack’s blood rage, encouraging him to create more and more dangerous children whom Benjamin could use for his own ends. Jack’s rampages attracted the attention of humans, and it was he who was responsible for the gruesome Vampire Murders. Jack managed to escape Benjamin’s clutches, but at a terrible cost.

Were it not for his art and music, Jack would have destroyed himself long ago. Philippe’s gift of the Duchess of Marlborough cello (made by the famous Venetian Signor Montagnana) saved him, along with his ability to artistically render his memories and nightmares. Now that he is back in the center of a loving family, Jack has the stability to overcome the monsters that haunt him.

SIDONIE VON BORCKE

Sidonie is a respected seer who is a member of the present-day Congregation. One of her ancestors, Sidonia von Borcke, was a famous witch and noblewoman who was tried and executed for witchcraft in 1620. Sidonie is stern-looking, with brown hair threaded with gray and held in a bun, and she has execrable taste in clothing. She demanded a report on Diana after hearing that the Bishop family had been “consorting” with vampires.

C

CATRINE

Catrine was a beautiful and resourceful young daemon who lived in the small village at Sept-Tours in the sixteenth century. She and her older sister, Jehanne, were employed at the castle as part of Philippe’s staff. When Diana and Matthew visited in 1590, she was assigned to serve as Diana’s personal maid. This meant helping Diana navigate the fiddly and often time-consuming process of dressing, undressing, and bathing. Relatively quickly, Catrine and Diana grew close.

WILLIAM CECIL

Full name and other names: Lord Burghley, the Lord High Treasurer of England

Origin of name: Cecil is of Old Welsh origin and derived from the name Seisyllt, which in turn has roots in the Latin sextilius and sextus (sixth born).

Date of birth: September 13, 1520

Astrological sign: Virgo

Physical description: A look of Father Christmas, with his gray hair and beard, which disguised his steeliness and cunning

A member of: The Privy Council

Family and romantic relationships: From a family of minor Welsh nobility; married twice with seven recorded children, including Sir Thomas Cecil, 1st Earl of Exeter, and Robert Cecil, 1st Earl of Salisbury

Personal history: William Cecil rose to become the most valuable adviser to England’s Queen Elizabeth I. In 1590, Gallowglass referred to him as “the canniest man alive.” Over his long life, he developed a reputation for shrewdness and an unyielding, tough pragmatism, which he demonstrated in his dealings with allies and enemies alike. His ruthlessness was perhaps most famously evident in his support for the execution of Mary Queen of Scots, Elizabeth’s cousin and her rival for the throne. Cecil’s support for Elizabeth was unwavering, however, as were his efforts to consolidate English power under her rule.

Cecil’s ascendancy was not without its bumps and bruises. As a young man, he was briefly imprisoned in the Tower of London for his association with the disgraced Duke of Somerset. But the canny Cecil managed to broker his own release and soon returned to court, this time to work for Somerset’s rivals under King Edward VI. Eventually Cecil was appointed to act as Elizabeth’s surveyor of lands while she was still only a princess. This gave him the advantage of knowing and serving Elizabeth for many years, well before she was queen. For her part, Elizabeth obviously trusted Cecil, a rare and treasured luxury for one in her position. He served at her pleasure for four decades, and from the highest posts in her government. He became Elizabeth’s secretary of state when she was crowned queen in 1558 and later was elevated to lord high treasurer and eventually to the position of chief minister. As a mark of her royal pleasure, Elizabeth gave him the title of Baron Burghley in 1571. And of course William Cecil had charge of her network of spies both at home and abroad. This included Matthew Roydon and, it is rumored, the playwright Christopher Marlowe, among many others.

Diana was quite right to be terrified of this kindly-looking old man when he visited her at the Hart and Crown, for the “Old Fox” William Cecil was not a person to be trifled with. But then neither was Diana Bishop.

GILLIAN CHAMBERLAIN

Origin of name: Chamberlain is a name of Old French origin. It is an occupational name for the official in charge of the private chambers of his master.

Date of birth: 1970s

Physical description: In her thirties, and slightly owlish in appearance

A member of: The Oxford coven

Family and romantic relationships: Gillian’s mother, Susan Chamberlain, was romantically involved with Emily Mather before getting married to Gillian’s father, Richard Stevenson.

Personal history: Gillian was a witch driven to succeed at any price. She was a scholar of classical languages and ancient religion, but her ultimate ambition was to occupy a seat on the Congregation. She studied the career of Peter Knox and admired his rise to prominence despite his less-than-distinguished magical lineage. He was her role model as well as her rival, and she eagerly seized the opportunity to help him spy on Diana Bishop.

In her efforts to please the Congregation and to ally herself with other witches, Gillian adopted a chirpy, “sisterhood is everything” attitude that tended to ring false with fellow witches. She tried too hard. Like Knox, Gillian believed that witches deserved a higher position in the creature food chain than they were currently accorded, and she was especially eager to see vampires put in their place. Gillian coveted a place on the Congregation council so that she could subvert its purpose and work toward witch supremacy.

Families like the Bishops and Proctors were intensely annoying to Gillian. Though she was a conservative and valued witch traditions, Gillian didn’t like the way that witches aggrandized the old bloodlines. In particular she resented the attention that Diana Bishop received, especially since Diana had no discernible talent or ability. Gillian felt she could run rings around Diana and secretly gloated that Diana lacked magical power. To her this was proof that the goddess knew best and rewarded witches who tried hard.

Gillian’s rigid views made her a dangerous adversary. She would be the first to sign up for any program that espoused racial purity and the subjugation of “lesser” creatures. Her death in Oxford, made to look like a suicide by Matthew Clairmont, brought all those threatening ambitions to a close.

ANDRÉ CHAMPIER

André Champier was a printer and wizard from Lyon whom Philippe de Clermont summoned to Sept-Tours to examine Diana. He was also cousin to the famous sixteenth-century Lyonnais physician Symphorien Champier. He was a university-educated wizard and disdainful of the traditional arts and witchcraft known to women. When his painful probings went too far in his attempt to steal Diana’s memories and report back to the Congregation, she acted quickly and killed him with a knife from Philippe’s boot.

JOHN CHANDLER

Origin of name: Chandler is an old Middle English occupational name, meaning maker and seller of candles.

Date of birth: Mid-sixteenth century

Physical description: The man Diana met walked with a stoop and had hazel eyes.

A member of: The Worshipful Company of Grocers

Personal history: John Chandler was an apothecary with a shop under the Barbican Cross, just outside the city walls in sixteenth-century London, and the first witch Diana met in London. His shop was full of grisly oddities, including a well-thumbed pamphlet about German vampire Peter Stubbe, and ink made from hawk’s blood. Chandler, a witch with the gift of silent speech, refused to help Diana find any other witches. Even though he was a witch like her, his allegiances lay with other creatures, including the vampire Father Andrew Hubbard.

On a lighter note, it was Chandler who sold Diana a pamphlet with detailed plans for building “sundrie Engines and trappes to take Polcats, Buzzards, rates, mice and all other kindes of Vermin and beasts,” which she purchased out of concern over the nocturnal inhabitants of their house in the Blackfriars. Diana brought this pamphlet to the goldsmith Monsieur Vallin, inspiring him to construct a magnificent silver-gilt mousetrap for the princely sum of fifteen pounds.

GEORGE CHAPMAN

Origin of name: Chapman is an Old English occupational name linked to a man of trade or merchant.

Date of birth: 1559

Physical description: An ordinary, warmblooded human. When Diana met him, he appeared middle-aged and tired, as though life had already worn him out.

A member of: The School of Night, the Admiral’s Men

Family and romantic relationships: The second son of Thomas Chapman and his wife, Joan. There is no record of Chapman’s ever marrying.

Personal history: George Chapman was a scholar, translator, playwright, and poet of Elizabethan England. His work and style influenced both his contemporaries and poets who came after him. William Ponsonby, who had an eye for writers of great literary merit, recognized Chapman’s skill and published his work. For many years Chapman also wrote popular plays, which were performed in London’s Rose Theatre and the Blackfriars. Unfortunately, his books and plays provided very little income, and Chapman struggled for his entire life to find patrons and sponsors willing to fund his artistic endeavors.

Chapman was often penniless but never friendless. A rather formal and slightly pompous member of the group of intellectual rebels known as the School of Night, Chapman was neither as swashbuckling as Sir Walter Raleigh nor as talented as Christopher Marlowe, nor as wealthy as Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland. He was, however, an earnest and devoted friend. It was George who took Diana under his wing and did his best to guide her through the rocky shoals of Elizabethan culture. He also searched tirelessly for her mysterious book, finally discovering that it belonged to John Dee.

The majority of Chapman’s literary efforts were published in the years after Diana’s visit to sixteenth-century London. While the School of Night suffered losses in those years, including Kit Marlowe’s death in 1593, the group and its members had a powerful effect on Chapman’s art. In 1594 Chapman memorialized the intellectual inspiration of the School of Night in his poem The Shadow of Night, which he dedicated to his “most dear and worthy friend, Matthew Roydon.” He wrote a poem about the adventures of Sir Walter Raleigh and completed Kit’s unfinished poem Hero and Leander following Marlowe’s death. Chapman also managed to complete his monumental translation of the Iliad, which was admired and widely read by his contemporaries. Unfortunately, this, too, earned him very little money as his sponsor for the effort, Henry, Prince of Wales, died before Chapman could be paid.

See also: LITERATURE: The Shadow of Night

AMIRA CHAVAN

Amira, tall, with short, jet-black hair and skin the color of coffee with cream, is a friend of Matthew’s and an expert yoga teacher. Matthew lets her use the Old Lodge to hold integrated creature yoga classes. Her empathy is a large part of her magic. She is godmother to Philip Bishop-Clairmont.

CHEF

Chef (no one knows his real name) was head of the kitchens in the full and busy household at Sept-Tours in the sixteenth century. He had a large number of creatures under his command and produced lavish meals for family gatherings and feast days. He was thin as a reed and not tall, with his bulk concentrated in his forearms (useful when he’s hefting and working enormous lumps of dough).

BALDWIN DE CLERMONT

Full name and other names: Lucius Sigéric Benoit Christophe Baldwin de Clermont, Baldwin Montclair

Origin of name: Baldwin has Anglo-Saxon and Old German origins, meaning “bold friend.”

Date of birth: c. 82 B.C., in the month of August

Astrological birth sign: Leo

Date of rebirth: September 52 B.C.

Astrological rebirth sign: Virgo

Physical description: Baldwin is a large, burly vampire. He appears to be in his late twenties or early thirties. He has ginger hair, an implacable expression, and a quiet command of authority. When Baldwin enters a room, everybody else sits up straighter.

A member of: The Congregation, the Knights of Lazarus

Family and romantic relationships: Full-blooded son of Philippe de Clermont and head of the de Clermont family. His blood brothers include Hugh and Godfrey de Clermont, and Matthew is his stepbrother. He is fond of women but does not have a life mate, only a large number of ex-girlfriends.

Personal history: Baldwin Montclair, the name by which he is known in the financial markets, is Philippe de Clermont’s only surviving full-blooded son and the heir to his legacy. As head of the de Clermont clan since Philippe’s death, Baldwin rules the family with an iron fist. He is a master strategist, often knows more than others think he does, and operates more subtly than he is given credit for. A formidable enemy, Baldwin is always operating on two levels: openly as a warrior and a prince and covertly as a savvy politician. In some ways he is very similar to his father, Philippe: handsome, loves war, loves the company of women and is not afraid of their power. Baldwin is not as charming as Philippe was, however, and is often compared unfavorably with his sire. Baldwin’s relationships with his sisters and with Ysabeau’s children are tense and competitive.

Baldwin’s relationship with Matthew is especially difficult as the two men are very different in temperament. Baldwin is impatient with Matthew’s intellectual side and wishes he would just give up his scientific work and be the lethal killer that is so useful to have in the family. He openly disapproves of Matthew’s taste in friends, especially his stepbrother’s propensity to befriend daemons and share family secrets with them. And Baldwin definitely doesn’t like Matthew’s relationship with Diana Bishop—though, oddly, Baldwin does not disapprove of the witch herself.

Baldwin was originally born in the Roman Empire and became a soldier in the vast Roman army. His skills as a soldier brought him to the attention of Philippe de Clermont, who recruited him into his clan and made him a vampire. Baldwin grew tired of fighting and discovered that empires could rise and fall according to their cash flow. From that point on, he preferred to fight with money rather than traditional weapons and has played a role in the establishment and breakup of every national power in the world ever since.

GODFREY DE CLERMONT

Origin of name: From the Old French Godefroy, with the first element meaning “god” or “good,” and fred meaning “peace.”

Date of birth: Unknown

Date of rebirth: Unknown

A member of: The Knights of Lazarus

Family and romantic relationships: Godfrey was the third full-blooded son of Philippe de Clermont and stepbrother to Matthew.

Personal history: Godfrey de Clermont was known for his devious intellect and sharp legal mind. Hamish studied Godfrey’s notes on vampire law when looking for information on blood vows. His intellectual interests also covered alchemy, and his beautifully illustrated copy of Aurora Consurgens lured Diana to Sept-Tours. Sadly Godfrey was killed in battle, fighting in 1668 in one of the French king Louis XIV’s wars.

HUGH DE CLERMONT

Origin of name: Hugh is the English variant of Hugo and was a name particularly popular in the Middle Ages with the Frankish nobility.

Date of birth: Unknown

Date of rebirth: Unknown

A member of: The Knights Templar, the Knights of Lazarus

Family and romantic relationships: Hugh was Philippe de Clermont’s eldest full-blooded son and stepbrother to Matthew. He was also blood sire to Gallowglass. Hugh’s mate was Fernando Gonçalves.

Personal history: As Philippe’s eldest son, Hugh de Clermont was a key member of the de Clermont family for centuries. He was executed by the French king in 1314. Matthew idolized his older stepbrother and created a shrine to Hugh in the chapel of Sept-Tours, consisting of Hugh’s shield, gauntlets, hauberk, and coat of plates, sword, and helm. (There was no body to bury as Hugh was burned at the stake.) Gallowglass and Matthew exacted revenge against the men who betrayed Hugh.

Fernando and Hugh met sometime in the eighth century and were happy together for six centuries before Hugh’s tragic end. Hugh was a literary, intelligent, and honorable man, but with little practical sense. Fernando was the one who always saw to it that Hugh had what he needed, and their house was well run. When Philippe’s interference in Hugh’s life became too much, he often struck out on his own with Fernando, living in Córdoba, Spain. Gallowglass referred to their separate family as a scion of the de Clermonts. Their home in Córdoba was also a haven for Matthew until Philippe called him away to the Crusades.

LOUISA DE CLERMONT

Origin of name: Louisa is the feminine version of Louis, meaning “famed warrior.”

Date of birth: Unknown

Date of rebirth: Unknown

Physical description: Louisa was preternaturally beautiful, with enormous dark eyes, fair skin, and dark hair. Shapely and seductive, she could attract human prey like no other vampire. Her likeness can be seen in the Peter Lely Portrait of a Lady.

Family and romantic relationships: One of Ysabeau de Clermont’s brood. Her vampire brothers included her birth twin, Louis, as well as Matthew de Clermont. She made many romantic conquests in her dramatic life and caused mischief with other troublemakers such as daemon Christopher Marlowe and vampire Domenico Michele.

Personal history: This vampire was nothing but trouble from the moment she was made. Louisa was one of a set of twins whom Ysabeau plucked out of poverty and a life of crime in medieval Paris and transformed into vampires, against her husband’s advice and the family’s wishes. The male, Louis, made a perfectly acceptable vampire. Louisa was not so lucky. She inherited blood rage and embarked on a career of violence, lust, and love affairs that often threatened to bring the crowned heads of Europe, and the de Clermonts, to ruin.

Louisa’s beauty and allure meant that human men—and women—fell at her feet and offered themselves up for the taking. And take Louisa did. She had no scruples, zero capacity for guilt, and she felt regret for her actions only when she was caught and punished. Philippe finally banished her from the de Clermont clan in 1591 in retribution for her attack on Diana Bishop, which violated Philippe’s blood vow (circumstances kept secret from the wider family). Louisa came to a bad end in the late seventeenth century on a plantation in the West Indies, where her tendency to snack on the sons of local landowners became problematic. She was burned alive in her home, and her slaves were blamed for it.

MATTHEW DE CLERMONT

Full name and other names: Matthew Gabriel Philippe Bertrand Sébastien de Clermont, Matthew Clairmont, Matthew Roydon, Shadow, Sebastian St. Clair, Gabriel ben Ariel, Matthew Chiaromonte

Origin of name: St. Matthew was one of the twelve apostles, and the name Matthew became popular in Europe in the Middle Ages as Christianity took hold. Philippe thought it sensible for Matthew to keep this name when he was reborn, as a link to the new religion that now shaped their lives.

Date of birth: A.D. November 2, 500

Astrological birth sign: Scorpio

Date of rebirth: A.D. June 15, 537

Astrological rebirth sign: Gemini

Physical description: Matthew is physically striking, with blue-black hair, gray eyes that tend to green, and a wide mouth. He is very tall—six-two or six-three—and physically imposing without looking muscle-bound. He is gracefully put together with everything in proportion, which can make him look smaller than he actually is.

A member of: The Knights of Lazarus, All Souls College, Oxford University, the Congregation (at one time), the School of Night University, the Conventicle

Family and romantic relationships: Matthew’s birth parents were a French village carpenter and his wife. He is blood son of Ysabeau and stepson to Philippe de Clermont, lover and husband of witch Diana Bishop, and father to Bright Born twins Rebecca and Philip Bishop-Clairmont. His vampire sons include Marcus Whitmore and Benjamin Fox (whom he renounced). He adopted Jack Blackfriars with Diana and became his great-grandsire through Benjamin and Father Hubbard.

His previous romantic relationships, with Juliette Durand and Eleanor St. Leger, ended badly. His first wife, Blanca, died of plague, along with their son, Lucas.

Personal history: Matthew Clairmont is a complex knot of contradictory impulses and desires. At the core he is a sinner in search of redemption. The defining event of his life was not the moment he became a vampire; it was the moment that directly preceded it, when despair and guilt over the sudden deaths of his wife and son led him to take his own life. From that time on, Matthew has been plagued not only with guilt and despair but with rage and fear as well. He fears himself, and rightly so, for he has inherited a curse from his maker, Ysabeau: blood rage, the blind urge to kill. Over the centuries Matthew has learned to control it through self-discipline, his Christian faith, and above all from the exercise of his keen mind. A poet, a healer, a scientist, a spy, a warrior, a prince, and an assassin—all these titles have belonged to Matthew over the course of his long life.

Matthew was born in a small village in the Auvergne, which at the time was an important crossroads in medieval Europe. His lineage is French, from the mountain people who met up with invading Roman armies. Matthew learned his father’s trade of carpentry and was taught the new craft of stonemasonry that was arriving in the region from Italy. He was a craftsman and an artist long before he was a scientist, and this is an important part of his personality.

Matthew is a deeply flawed hero. He has several vulnerabilities: rage, arrogance, and a continuing quest for redemption and forgiveness. At the same time, Matthew is a gifted healer, a gentle man who yearns to be a father. As a scholar he has seen countless theories overturned and numerous brilliant minds judged for their shortcomings. Yet still he strives for truth and order in the world around him. He loves music, art, and poetry. Like his faith and his science, these have provided a harbor for him in the storm of life. Over the centuries he has developed a finely tuned radar for quality of mind and talent. As with all other aspects of his life, Matthew does not blindly follow trends but recognizes quality when he sees it.

Matthew’s way of being in the world is as complex as the man himself. He can seem both highly traditional and conservative yet also willing to change. So Matthew will use an eighty-year-old fountain pen, lovingly restored and tended to keep it in working order, but also buy the latest laptop the moment it’s released. Matthew surrounds himself with items that are beautiful and functional. When he finds something that works for him, he sticks to it, whether it’s a model of car, a brand of pen, a style of shoe, or a daily ritual. There is no change for change’s sake.

For all his many gifts—good looks, talent, intellect, physical strength—Matthew always feels like the black sheep. He is a loner, an outcast. He is the de Clermonts’ hidden weapon, and his blood rage is their deeply held family secret. If that were discovered, it would mean death not only to him but to his maker, Ysabeau, and his children as well. His family has used Matthew’s shameful blood rage to their advantage, forcing him to occupy the position of the de Clermont family assassin. He has done the distasteful job with distinction and his own peculiar brand of honor, but it has taken a terrible toll on him in many ways, not least of which is marginalization.

Living on the margins has made Matthew an expert watcher. Whether in scientific observation or pursuing a woman who interests him, his single-mindedness can blind him to possible conflict and danger. He can be impulsive but is deliberate in his actions, too, and will watch and wait far longer than others would—human or vampire. He is the consummate hunter, biding his time until the perfect moment to pounce on his prey.

Matthew’s salvation is his abiding Catholic faith and his desire to understand the world around him and his place in it. Over the centuries, these two avenues—the religious and the scientific—have formed the lifeline to bring him out of the darkness of his guilt and family expectations. Now, having Diana and a family of his own provides another.

PHILIPPE DE CLERMONT

Full name and other names: Philippe de Clermont, Alcides Leontothymos (the birth name attributed to Heracles)

Origin of name: Philippe is the French variation of Philip, which has origins in Ancient Greece. A literal meaning from the Greek elements means “lover of horses” and in turn (with horses owned only by the rich and powerful) “noble.” De Clermont is a place-name from France, made up of the old French clair or cler, meaning “clear,” and mont, “a hill.”

Date of birth: Unknown

Date of rebirth: Unknown

Physical description: Philippe looked like the lion he was, with tawny hair, sun-kissed skin, and hazel eyes that sparked with life and intelligence.

A member of: The Congregation, the Knights of Lazarus

Family and romantic relationships: Philippe’s birth parents and vampire sire are unknown. He was lover and devoted mate of Ysabeau de Clermont, and together they ruled and nurtured their brood of de Clermont vampire children. His blood sons include Hugh, Baldwin, and Godfrey, and daughters Freyja, Verin, and Stasia, as well as stepson Matthew de Clermont and blood-sworn daughter Diana Bishop.

Personal history: Philippe, the patriarchal sire of the de Clermont clan, is the absent presence at the heart of A Discovery of Witches. He is the soul of the story, the keeper of secrets, the warrior of human myth and legend, the romantic hero on whom all subsequent heroes have been based. His origins lie so far back that no one—not even ancient vampires like Ysabeau and Marthe—know for sure how or when he was made. By the time of the ancient Vampire Wars—and those took place millennia ago—Philippe was already a battle-scarred and tested warrior.

Philippe was a man whose personality and physique matched the greatness of his spirit and courage. Though not human, he was one of the most humane men who ever lived. Difference did not frighten him, and his views of the world were expansive, accepting, and tolerant. One of the reasons Philippe lived as long as he did was his firm conviction that in order to survive one had to be willing to change. He was the most adaptable of vampires, never fighting against the prevailing winds but sailing along with them to his next home, his next adventure, his next challenge.

The one fixed point in Philippe’s life was his mate, Ysabeau. Once they’d met, there was never anyone else for him. She was the center of his world, the axletree of his universe. Philippe would have destroyed anything and anyone who threatened her, including his own children. To outsiders Philippe seemed to overindulge his mate, allowing her freedoms and privileges that most vampire patriarchs would never permit. But he knew that Ysabeau was fragile and that having once been a prisoner she would never survive in captivity, no matter how gilded the cage.

Philippe’s great disappointment in life was that he did not manage to create a safe haven for creatures in the Holy Land. This project was dear to his heart for centuries. When he had to face the inescapable truth that such a promised land was not meant to be, he behaved as he always did when confronted with obstacles: He regrouped and launched an entirely new venture called the Knights of Lazarus.

Tragically, Philippe died as a result of injuries sustained in the death camps of Nazi Germany in World War II. In a mission to free Allied female spies, he was captured and subjected to medical experiments and torture. The Nazis were fascinated with the question of how much damage a vampire’s body could sustain without dying. In fact, it was Matthew’s vampire son Benjamin who performed the torture as personal revenge against the de Clermonts. To ensure that Benjamin did not discover any damaging family secrets, Philippe sought the help of a witch imprisoned in the camps. She muddled Philippe’s mind, took his memories, and left behind nothing but a chaos of fragments. Though Matthew and Baldwin were able to rescue Philippe from the camps, there was no way to heal his broken mind. After Philippe’s repeated attempts to end his own life, Matthew and Ysabeau finally agreed to help him. Matthew drank his blood dry, taking in the images of his life and sharing the agony of his final torture. Philippe’s last thoughts, and the only memories still left whole, were of his beloved Ysabeau.

VERIN DE CLERMONT

Origin of name: Verin is of Slavic origin, meaning “faith.”

Date of birth: Unknown

Date of rebirth: Unknown

Physical description: Verin has the smooth and serene face of a woman in her twenties. Her posture is easy, and her black hair and silver-gray eyes sparkle with energy and intelligence. Despite her elfin quality, she often has a knife concealed in her high-heeled boots.

A member of: The Knights of Lazarus

Family and romantic relationships: One of Philippe de Clermont’s formidable daughters and mated with a human, Ernst Neumann. She and her nephew Gallowglass are close.

Personal history: Verin is as strong as her sisters, Stasia and Freyja (the family eventually begged Philippe to stop making daughters, because they were so terrifying). Verin lives in Berlin with her husband, Ernst, whom she married when he was twenty-five. They met when Ernst was a boy at the end of World War II, and she saved him from her stepmother, Ysabeau, who went on a grief-stricken rampage through Germany following Philippe’s death. Ernst is now approaching retirement, and they are as devoted to each other as ever.

Verin, despite her reluctance to receive a witch into the family, was the one who acknowledged Philippe’s blood vow to Diana and confirmed her place in their family.

YSABEAU DE CLERMONT

Full name and other names: Genevieve Mélisande Hélène Ysabeau Aude de Clermont, Mélisande

Origin of name: Ysabeau is another form of Isabel and means “God’s promise”

Date of birth: September 17, very long ago

Astrological birth sign: Virgo

Date of rebirth: Unknown

Physical description: Ysabeau is a classic beauty, with blond hair, green eyes, pale skin, and a shapely figure. She is petite, though not as small as Miriam. The impression she gives is one of grace and delicacy. Ysabeau is the personification of French style, favoring a monochromatic palette of fawn, beige, and cream. Her hair is long and usually worn in a French twist. Her footwear varies between high heels and riding boots. She prefers French designers (naturally), classic lines, and expensive fabrics.

Family and romantic relationships: Ysabeau is the lover and mate of vampire Philippe de Clermont, matriarch of the sprawling de Clermont clan, and mother to Matthew de Clermont as well as Louisa and her twin brother, Louis. Her maker was a fearsome vampire of antiquity.

Personal history: Ysabeau de Clermont is one of the oldest vampires in existence—and the cleverest. Known for her beauty and elegance, Ysabeau was mated to the legendary Philippe de Clermont, and together they became the de facto rulers of European vampire culture. Though others tried to unseat them, the two survived centuries of war and politics. Philippe always credited their success to Ysabeau’s cunning and ruthlessness, calling her “my general.”

Ysabeau is a miracle of survival. She was made a vampire against her will, and her early years after rebirth were filled with rape, torture, and torment at the hands of her maker, who had blood rage. When Philippe freed her from captivity, she was feral. It took centuries for Ysabeau to recover and to trust again. Because of her experiences, Ysabeau can seem icy and forbidding, but this is a façade. At her core Ysabeau is a blend of courage and wounds that will never fully heal.

Though Ysabeau has never exhibited any signs of blood rage, she is a carrier of the disease. Some of her children—namely, Matthew and Louisa—do have full-blown blood rage, though most do not. Because of the perception among vampires that this is a curse, the family has kept Matthew’s and Louisa’s condition a secret. Philippe knew that if it was revealed, not only would their lives be forfeit, but so would Ysabeau’s—and he would prevent that no matter what the cost.

Like Philippe, Ysabeau is an avid reader of newspapers, romance novels, and adventure stories. She loves going to the movies and adores escapist fare like romantic comedy and epic fantasy. Her taste in furniture and art is impeccable, and she has been a patron of important painters, sculptors, and craftsmen over the centuries.

In spite of her delicate appearance Ysabeau is capable of acts of great ruthlessness. She is fiercely protective of her children and will do whatever it takes to keep them from harm. Philippe’s death following Nazi torture almost drove Ysabeau mad with grief, and in the period immediately afterward she would hunt only in Germany and Argentina. She held a deep hatred for witches due to her belief that they were involved in Philippe’s torture. But she gradually learned to live again and keep the de Clermont clan together without him, despite the divisions among their children. She always has the calm and devoted Marthe by her side at Sept-Tours to support her.

MARJORIE COOPER

Marjorie Cooper, short, with a round face, was an earthwitch and a member of the St. James Garlickhythe gathering in sixteenth-century London. She was married to a vintner. Her magical specialty was remembering, and she coached Diana in finding the right words for her spells and, in turn, how to imprint them on her memory.

AMEN CORNER

A member of Andrew Hubbard’s family in London, Amen Corner is an angular young man with a strangely fitting name, taken from the place in the church where he was discovered as a foundling. He is part of the gang with Leonard Shoreditch with whom Jack Blackfriars hangs around.

PIERRE CORNU

Pierre is another devoted, loyal vampire servant in Matthew’s extensive entourage and was at the Old Lodge on Matthew and Diana’s arrival in 1590. He is a slender man who has an expressive face, weather-beaten skin the color of hazelnut, and black hair and eyes. Pierre especially took a shine to Jack and Annie, helping look after them in sixteenth-century London.

CORRA

Corra is Diana’s familiar, a firedrake. A firedrake looks like a dragon with two legs and is a union of opposites: a creature of both fire and water. As one might expect of a Bishop familiar, Corra is extremely difficult to handle. Gallowglass calls her “wee beastie,” “demented parakeet,” and occasionally worse.

See also: MAGIC: Familiars

LINDA CROSBY

Linda, a neatly dressed elderly woman, is a witch in modern-day London, in the area where Diana and Matthew lived in 1590. She is a member of Andrew Hubbard’s family and a descendant of earthwitch Marjorie Cooper, whom Diana met in the sixteenth century. Linda helped Diana weave the spell to locate the owner of the third missing page from the Book of Life.

D

MR. DANFORTH

A clergyman in sixteenth-century Woodstock, Mr. Danforth was a fearful man, a bit unkempt and not particularly bright. He had some education, having attended university, and had read at least some part of the witch-hunting manual Malleus Maleficarum. Eager to wield it against those he suspected of witchcraft, Danforth soon had Diana Bishop in his sights. He petitioned his bishop to have Diana investigated by London authorities, but Matthew and Diana were able to put a stop to the inquiry by appearing privately before Elizabeth I.

JANE DEE

Origin of name: Jane is derived from the Old French Jehanne and is the feminine version of the name Johannes or John.

Date of birth: 1555

Physical description: Diana encountered a sharp-faced, ample-hipped woman, many of whose gowns had seen better days.

Family and romantic relationships: Born Jane Fromond, she became John Dee’s disgruntled wife and mother to eight children.

Personal history: The much younger wife of the alchemist John Dee, Jane had previously been lady-in-waiting to Elizabeth Clinton, the Countess of Lincoln, in Queen Elizabeth’s court. After her marriage Jane lived with her husband and their children in the small village of Mortlake, on the river Thames west of London; they also spent years living abroad. Even by sixteenth-century standards, the Dee household was large and tumultuous. Jane, who reportedly had a sharp tongue and a forthright manner, cared for their many children and oversaw numerous domestic servants, including one who infamously jumped down the well; conditions within the Dees’ home were not for the fainthearted.

In order to support her husband’s scientific work, Jane needed to feed a constant parade of visitors. Less frequently, though more happily, she also entertained his sponsors. Her efforts were made more difficult by the irregular nature of Dee’s income, depending as it did on the fickle favor of wealthy patrons such as Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth I, the Marchioness of Northampton (of the silver salt), and Sir Philip and Lady Mary Sidney. Visits from the queen’s representatives were most welcome, however, even if they were vampires and especially when they came bearing gifts.

Jane also had to share her home with her husband’s scientific apprentices. She had a particularly complicated relationship with Dee’s most favored assistant, the unstable Edward Kelley. Kelley was known to leer openly at her in public and otherwise displayed an unsettling interest in her person. In 1587, only a few years before Diana met Dr. Dee and his wife in Mortlake, Edward Kelley claimed to have received a message from a spirit, instructing Kelley and Dee to share everything they had, including their wives. According to Dee’s account of this revelation, he and Kelley were stunned by the news and their wives took it very hard as well. We do not know Joanna’s response, but according to Dee’s diaries Jane “fell a-weeping and trembling for a quarter of an hour,” although at length she agreed, saying, “I trust, though I give myself thus to be used, that God will turn me into a stone before He would suffer me, in my obedience, to receive any shame or inconvenience.” It seems all four of them did follow the spirit’s orders. Soon thereafter the Dees left Prague and returned to Mortlake, where, nine months later, Jane had a son, whom they christened Theodorus Trebonianus. His name means “the gift of God at Trebon.” (Trebon is the town near Prague where Dee and Kelley had settled.) The Dees never saw the Kelleys again, and this cross-matching was not discovered until Dee’s journals were read after his death.

See also: John Dee, Edward Kelley, Joanna Kelley

DR. JOHN DEE

Origin of name: Dee is derived from the Welsh du, meaning black.

Date of birth: July 13, 1527

Astrological sign: Cancer

Physical description: Based on portraits of Dee, he wore the black robes of a scholar, a tight-fitting hood covering his head and extending down his neck, topped with a flat cap. A long white beard jutted from his chin.

A member of: Trinity College, Cambridge University

Family and romantic relationships: Of Welsh descent and married three times, with eight children by his third wife, Jane.

Personal history: John Dee was a famed natural philosopher and scholar of the sixteenth century. He conducted studies and experiments in astronomy, astrology, and alchemy, as well as practicing other occult sciences, including divination. He was an immensely learned man, a fellow at Trinity College, and he traveled extensively in Europe. There he studied the natural sciences, including mathematics, cartography, and astronomy, and was part of a network of scholars. Dee advised the Crown, particularly Queen Elizabeth I and her counselors, on diverse matters, including British imperialism; in fact, he is credited with coining the term “the British Empire.” He also championed a plan for the founding of a national British library. Queen Mary did not support his plan, however, so he set about gathering his own collection at his home in Mortlake outside London. Eventually Dee owned more books than both Oxford or Cambridge universities combined, and scholars from all over Europe came to visit his remarkable library. It is perhaps no surprise, then, that at one time Dee had possession of the mysterious and much-sought-after Book of Life.

Dee married three times and is best known for his relationship with his third wife, Jane, and their large and unruly household. This included four sons and four daughters, as well as a number of servants and scientific assistants. Chief among those assistants was the notorious Edward Kelley, a persuasive man of questionable morals.

Dee’s association with Kelley began at a difficult and rather incautious moment in Dee’s life. When they met in 1582, Dee had become impatient to learn and understand more of the universal laws of nature than had yet been revealed to him in his books. He focused on magic and the occult sciences, believing that angels, because they were closer to God, would be in possession of the knowledge he sought. Dee began to look for a person who could help him converse with these supernatural beings. Before Edward Kelley approached Dee, he had already employed a series of unsatisfactory scryers, or crystal gazers, to help him pierce the veil between the mortals and the all-knowing angels of heaven. To Dee’s delight, Kelley proved to be an adept spiritual intermediary. Kelley’s output was remarkable for its sheer volume as well as its complexity, and Kelley’s reported conversations lent themselves to a great deal of study and interpretation. Many have thought Kelley’s reports were fantastic flights of fancy, but Dee seems to have sincerely believed that Kelley was an authentic spiritual medium.

In 1583 the Dee family and the Kelleys began to travel throughout Europe, attempting to persuade other thinkers and rulers of the usefulness of their communication with angels. While in Prague in 1587, Edward Kelley revealed the extraordinary demand made by an angel: that the two men begin to share everything, including their wives. Initially dismayed, John Dee was soon convinced, and somehow he persuaded his wife to participate in the scheme. Although the two couples complied, this cross-matching marked the end of Dee’s relationship with Kelley. Dee and his wife returned to their home in Mortlake, where Diana and Matthew visited them soon after.

Following Jane’s death in 1604 of the bubonic plague (the same outbreak that probably also killed three of his daughters), Dee spent the rest of his days a widower, in the company of his one surviving daughter.

See also: Jane Dee, Edward Kelley, Joanna Kelley

ROBERT DEVEREUX

Full name: Robert Devereux, the Earl of Essex

Origin of name: Devereux is after the name of a town in Normandy.

Date of birth: November 10, 1565

Astrological sign: Scorpio

Physical description: A long-legged man with a mop of curly hair and an insolent expression

A member of: The Knights of the Garter, the Privy Council

Family and romantic relationships: A distant relative of Queen Elizabeth I (they were first cousins, twice removed). At twenty years old, he became a ward of William Cecil, Lord Burghley. He married Frances Walsingham (daughter of Elizabeth I’s spymaster, Sir Francis Walsingham), by whom he had three surviving children. He also fathered a son by his mistress, Elizabeth Southwell.

Personal history: An English nobleman, Robert Devereux was a chivalrous and lively young man when he joined Elizabeth’s court in 1584. He curried favor with Her Majesty by entertaining her at cards, dancing, and plying her with poetry and theatrical amusements. He was almost the polar opposite of Elizabeth’s clever and conservative adviser William Cecil. Where Cecil was a reserved and calculating man, Devereux was boyish, vivacious, and even dangerously impudent with the queen. She found his temperament and attentions enlivening and attractive, and she encouraged his military career. Many others in Elizabeth’s closest circle, including William Cecil and Walter Raleigh (as well as her vampire spy Matthew Roydon), warned her that Devereux was untrustworthy, but for years Elizabeth ignored their counsel. She had no equals in her court and was constantly surrounded by formal or servile courtiers and advisers. Devereux’s familiarity and flattering attention (from a man thirty-three years younger) was welcomed by this vain, increasingly lonely woman.

Soon after Diana and Matthew left London and timewalked back to the present, the relationship between the queen and the earl began to sour. Devereux made a series of brash and foolish missteps, including participating in Sir Francis Drake’s English Armada against her wishes. Furthermore, he neglected to destroy the Spanish battle fleet when given the opportunity. He impulsively pursued their treasure ships instead and left England vulnerable to Spain’s navy. A few years later, after boldly promising to crush the Irish rebellion, Devereux led a huge army of English soldiers into a series of costly and ineffectual battles, finally brokering a very poor truce with the Irish leader Hugh O’Neill, to the delight of the Irish and the dismay of Queen Elizabeth. On his return Devereux was put on trial and placed under house arrest. Rather than seeking forgiveness, he became resentful and led a failed rebellion against Elizabeth. He was convicted of “conspiring to . . . slay the Queen,” and executed on February 25, 1601. It reportedly took three strokes of the ax to behead him.

JULIETTE DURAND

Origin of name: Durand has evolved in many different countries and derives from the Latin duro, meaning “to harden” or “make enduring.”

Date of birth: Late seventeenth century

Date of rebirth: Late seventeenth century

Physical description: Juliette was mixed-race (Afro-Caribbean and Caucasian) and appeared to be in her early twenties. She was startlingly beautiful, with fragile, delicate features and large, dark green eyes. Despite her beauty, there was something about her that seemed off, with the unmistakable signs of mental illness.

Family and romantic relationships: Juliette was a daughter of Gerbert d’Aurillac and an agent of his twisted plans. One of those plans involved Juliette becoming close to Matthew, a relationship that did not end well.

Personal history: Juliette was a beautiful tragedy of a vampire. Rescued from the brothels of Cairo in the late seventeenth century by Gerbert d’Aurillac, she found herself in a darker, though more luxurious, hell. Gerbert carefully selected Juliette from the prostitutes on offer because he felt she would appeal to Matthew Clairmont’s appetite for the exotic outsider. After turning her into a vampire, Gerbert carefully molded her into Matthew’s perfect partner, training her to know philosophy and science, to like the music Matthew liked, to understand the art that Matthew collected. Juliette became Gerbert’s Trojan horse, designed to be pushed inside the de Clermont family and to bring down Gerbert’s old enemies by uncovering their secrets.

Gerbert’s training methods unfortunately drove Juliette mad. At first even her madness was welcome as it made Matthew even more protective and devoted. Over the decades, however, it made her more difficult to control. Eventually Matthew found out how Juliette came to be a vampire, and their relationship was destroyed. He left her, in New York, more than a hundred years ago. Juliette was heartbroken, her mind irreparably fractured. When she disappeared, Matthew believed her to be a casualty of World War I. But Juliette survived and came back to exact the Congregation’s justice on Diana and Matthew, as well as her own personal revenge. Their terrifying confrontation in Madison would have ended with Matthew’s death if it hadn’t been for Diana’s intervention. Instead Juliette’s troubled life ended in a ball of Diana’s witchfire.

E

ABRAHAM BEN ELIJAH OF CHELM

Full name and other names: Elijah Ba’al Shem, Eliyahu Ba’al Shem of Chełm, Eliyahu ben Aharon Yehudah (Elijah son of Aaron Judah)

Origin of name: Elijah was a Hebrew prophet of the ninth century. The name means “my God is Yahweh.” In Hebrew, Ba’al Shem means “master of the Name.” This refers to the practice of some kabbalistic rabbis using the names of God to practice healing and blessing.

Date of birth: 1550

Physical description: Young but with worry creases around deep-set gray eyes and a graying dark brown beard when Diana met him.

A member of: The Chelm coven/gathering

Personal history: Abraham ben Elijah was a Polish rabbi who served as chief rabbi of Chelm. The “Ba’al Shem” came from his reputation for having created the first golem using a shem—that is, letters from one of the holy names of God. He was also a weaver and a friend of Rabbi Loew in sixteenth-century Prague, which is where Diana met him.

See also: MAGIC: Familiars

ÉTIENNE

A servant in sixteenth-century Sept-Tours who, along with fellow servant Thomas, looked after Diana Bishop.

F

RANSOME FAYRWEATHER

Origin of name: Fayrweather has English and Scottish origins, from the Middle English “fair weder” and is a nickname for a person with a sunny temperament.

Date of birth: February 14, 1783

Astrological birth sign: Pisces

Date of rebirth: Unknown

Physical description: Ransome’s eyes are cold chips of green glass in an otherwise handsome, relaxed face. His hair is a rich mahogany brown.

A member of: The Domino Club

Family and romantic relationships: Ransome is Marcus Whitmore’s eldest son from his lawless vampire brood in New Orleans. Matthew de Clermont is his grandsire. He is now part of the Bishop-Clairmont scion.

Personal history: Ransome Fayrweather was sired by Marcus Whitmore, who in his carefree early days as a vampire created his children from New Orleans’s youngest and most errant citizens. Riotous and irresponsible, they risked discovery every time they went out after dark and attracted unwanted human attention. They also carried, unknowingly, the blood-rage gene. Matthew was dispatched by the de Clermonts to get rid of his son’s troublesome children, and Juliette assisted him in the gruesome task.

Ransome, a man who Gallowglass says would put Lucifer to shame, survived Matthew and Juliette’s cull of his brothers and sisters and is now the owner of New Orleans’s Domino Club on Royal Street. He never forgave Matthew for what he did but has finally struck a truce with him and joined the Bishop-Clairmont scion.

JACQUELINE VAUTROLLIER FIELD

Date of birth: Unknown

Family and romantic relationships: Jacqueline came from a French family. Her first husband was printer Thomas Vautrollier and her second was Richard Field.

Personal history: Jacqueline was a French Huguenot refugee, like her first husband, fleeing the Wars of Religion in her home country (following the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre) to set up a new life in England. Thomas soon became established in London as a printer, associated with producing books of Protestant theology as well as classical authors. Following his death Jacqueline became a printer and collaborated with Richard Field, marrying him soon after.

As a strong-minded young woman, Jacqueline was only too happy to give Diana all the advice she needed when she visited the Fields’ shop in Blackfriars.

RICHARD FIELD

Origin of name: Field is of Anglo-Saxon origin, from “feld” meaning variations of “open country.” This was a habitational name for someone who lived on land that had been cleared of forest but not cultivated.

Date of birth: 1561

A member of: The Stationers’ Company, London

Family and romantic relationships: Son of Henry Field, a tanner in Stratford-upon-Avon and, it has been speculated, family friend of the Shakespeares’. He married Jacqueline Vautrollier, widow of the Huguenot immigrant printer Thomas Vautrollier.

Personal history: Richard Field, a printer and publisher who was based in Blackfriars, London, spent his early years with his family on Bridge Street in Stratford-upon-Avon. When his father died in August 1592, John Shakespeare, William Shakespeare’s father, was one of the local officials who appraised the property he left. It is generally acknowledged that Richard and William would have known each other growing up. In 1579 Richard became an apprentice to the London printers George Bishop and Thomas Vautrollier and, when Vautrollier died in 1587, Richard worked with his widow, Jacqueline.

Richard and Jacqueline eventually married in 1589, and it was their shop near Ludgate that Diana visited to pick up a book for Matthew; it is also where she bought her commonplace book. Shakespeare collaborated with the Fields, and Richard printed the early editions of three of his poems. Richard also printed books for other leading English publishers, including William Ponsonby, who published George Chapman’s The Shadow of Night, as well as works that promoted the strong Protestant sympathies of him and his Huguenot wife. He rose to be one of the twenty-two master printers of the Stationers’ Company and died in 1624.

BENJAMIN FOX

Full name and other names: Benjamin Fuchs, Benjamin de Clermont, Benjamin ben Gabriel, Benjamin the Blessed, Nickie-Ben

Origin of name: The name Fox has variations in Old English and German (Fuchs) referring to attributes of the animal and allusions to the “cunning of a fox.”

Date of birth: c. 1075

Date of rebirth: First quarter of the twelfth century

Physical description: Benjamin was not large or physically intimidating. He had dark blue eyes set in a long, pale face under dusky hair.

A member of: The Order of the Defeated Dragon

Family and romantic relationships: Benjamin was Matthew de Clermont’s blood son, estranged from his father and banished from the de Clermont family. Sire of Father Hubbard and in turn grandsire to Jack Blackfriars. He was linked with the notorious Erzsébet Báthory, as well as with a twelfth-century witch who gave birth to a vampire baby in Jerusalem who died in infancy. The witch Isobel Gowdie was one of Benjamin’s lovers and had his child, a Bright Born named Janet Gowdie (grandmother to Janet Gowdie, who is now a member of the Congregation).

Personal history: Benjamin is the malevolence at the center of the All Souls world and the darkest manifestation of the Vampire Curse, passed on to him by his sire. After his rebirth as a vampire, Benjamin’s ambition was to revenge himself on Matthew and the de Clermonts, find the Book of Life, and discover the secret to conceiving his own child with a witch. As cunning as his name, Benjamin Fox learned to survive through manipulation and fear and was a master at the art of disappearance.

Originally a German Crusader marching to the Holy Land with Count Emicho’s army in 1096, Benjamin joined up with Godfrey de Clermont’s knights when the count’s army was defeated in Hungary. In this way he met Matthew de Clermont. At first Matthew cultivated Benjamin as a valuable ally for the family; his mother was the daughter of a prominent merchant in the Levant, and he had learned some Hebrew and Arabic. But Matthew realized too late how mistaken he was to trust Benjamin. When Benjamin threatened to expose to humans in Jerusalem both the de Clermont family secrets and the existence of all creatures, Matthew lost control. Rather than killing Benjamin, Matthew punished him by turning him into the very thing he threatened to reveal. Matthew then disavowed Benjamin and left him to fend for himself during the first difficult years of vampire youth. Matthew didn’t expect him to survive.

Benjamin did survive, however, and built up a network of dangerous blood-rage vampire children, as well as allies, the most important of whom was Gerbert d’Aurillac. As a member of the Order of the Defeated Dragon, Benjamin spent time in Hungary with the Drăculeşti and Báthory families. He was also implicated in Erzsébet Báthory’s gruesome murders there.

Benjamin began searching for the Book of Life in the middle of the fourteenth century, before Matthew was interested in it. In his efforts to conceive his own child with a witch, he kidnapped and raped witches for centuries, largely around the area of Chelm in Poland. The Congregation turned a deaf ear to complaints, because Benjamin was protected by Gerbert. In 1662 Benjamin had an affair with a witch, Isobel Gowdie, in the Scottish Highlands (where he was known as Nickie-Ben). He left her soon after, never knowing she was a weaver and had conceived what would be his Bright Born child, Janet Gowdie.

Benjamin’s life was dedicated to exacting revenge on the de Clermont family and to creating his own personal army of powerful blood-rage vampires. He caused the de Clermonts huge anguish, right up until he was finally killed by Diana Bishop.

FRANÇOISE

Françoise is a loyal vampire servant in Matthew’s household, of French origin like Pierre, and described as a rawboned woman.

G

BENJAMIN BEN GABRIEL

A friend of Rabbi Loew in Prague and another name under which Benjamin Fox concealed himself.

GALLOWGLASS

Full name: Gallowglass de Clermont

Origin of name: Gallowglasses, meaning “foreign warriors,” were elite mercenaries, drawn largely from Norse-Gaelic clans between the mid-thirteenth and late sixteenth centuries. They were Gaels who had intermarried with the tenth-century Norse settlers of western Scotland.

Date of birth: Unknown

Date of rebirth: Unknown

Physical description: Gallowglass is built like a Viking warrior and looks no more than thirty years old. When Diana thinks of the de Clermont vampires in animal terms, to her Gallowglass is a bear. He has collar-length blond hair, wide blue eyes, a nose that looks like it’s been broken, and tattoos that snake around his body. They tell a complicated tale, changing frequently (tattoos last only a few months on a vampire) depending on his feelings. In the present day he wears scruffy clothes, T-shirts and ripped jeans, and is called Sir Vagabond by Ysabeau.

A member of: The Knights of Lazarus

Family and romantic relationships: Gallowglass is the full-blooded son of Hugh de Clermont and grandson of Philippe de Clermont. He is godfather to Philip Bishop-Clairmont.

Personal history: Gallowglass is a loyal and devoted member of the de Clermont family, despite times when he wishes he had fallen in battle to someone other than Hugh de Clermont. When Hugh gave Gallowglass his new life, Philippe approved his choice. Like Hugh, Gallowglass is a brave and noble warrior who cares little for the practicalities of life, such as running a household.

Gallowglass’s lineage is Norse-Gael, and he mentions that his family was Úlfhéðnar, the legendary Norse “wolf-coat” warriors. He remembers his birth grandfather casting runes and uttering prophecies, and he recalls watching the aurora borealis from the sandy shores where his father lived in the Outer Hebrides on the Isle of Lewis, Scotland. He keeps a small leather pouch of runes, consulting them when he needs a little extra help navigating his future.

When his blood father, Hugh, was executed in France, Gallowglass exacted his revenge on the men who betrayed him. But it was centuries before he would set foot in France again, so deep were his grief and anger. One of Gallowglass’s close companions in arms in the Knights of Lazarus is vampire Davy Gams (Hancock), and they worked together carrying out Matthew’s commands.

Despite Gallowglass’s gnawing wish to belong, he has spent the last few hundred years as a drifter, moving from place to place by sea, rail, and then motorbike, waiting for the signs that he had to return to Sept-Tours. Philippe made him and Verin de Clermont promise to see that Diana was accepted into the family once the time was right. Sadly, Philippe’s command for Gallowglass to watch over Diana until she met Matthew took a toll on his grandson. Gallowglass has been Diana’s secret guardian since her birth, waiting for the day his uncle would meet and marry the woman Gallowglass loved.

DAVY GAM

Full name and other names: Hancock, Sir Dafydd ap Llewelyn ap Hywel, Dafydd Gam

Origin of name: Gam is taken from the Welsh word gam, meaning “lame” or “deformed.”

Date of birth: c. 1380

Date of rebirth: October 27, 1415

Astrological rebirth sign: Scorpio

Physical description: Davy Gam is redheaded, with bushy red eyebrows and the brawny build of a warrior.

A member of: The Knights of Lazarus

Family and romantic relationships: Davy’s birth parentage is of a Welsh noble family in Breconshire who claimed ancient lineage back to the kings of Brycheiniog. Davy’s father was Llywelyn ap Hywel, and his maker was Godfrey de Clermont. Davy is married to a vampire named Bethan, who also goes under the name Lizzie.

Personal history: The name of Davy Gam, friend and companion in arms to Gallowglass, is both revered and reviled in Welsh history, depending on who is telling his story. His family, based in south Wales, had grown in power and influence through loyalty to their English overlords, the Lords of Brecon, from the thirteenth century. There are records of Dafydd and his brother’s allegiance to Henry Bolingbroke as Earl of Brecon and later when he became King Henry IV at the end of the fourteenth century.

When Owain Glyndwr and his men rose up against the English Crown in Wales, Dafydd and his family stayed loyal to their English allies and led the opposition to the rebellion in their area. Initially victorious, Dafydd was later captured by Owain’s men in 1412, and the new young King Henry V paid his ransom swiftly to ensure his safe return. Dafydd’s service to the king then took him to the Battle of Agincourt, where his death is confirmed from many sources. (Legend stipulates this happened while he was saving the king’s life, but it has been widely discounted by historians.) Dafydd is often seen as a figure of the loyal and valiant Welshman, and Davy Gam is named in Shakespeare’s Henry V as one of the noble fallen. His grandson, through his daughter, was William Herbert, who went on to become the powerful 1st Earl of Pembroke.

At Agincourt, Davy was reborn as Hancock, given a new life in service to the de Clermonts and the Knights of Lazarus as the gruff warrior whom Diana met on arriving in England in 1590.

DAVID GANS

Full name: Rabbi Dovid Solomon Ganz

Date of birth: 1541

Physical description: He was around fifty when Diana met him, with a thick gray beard and heavy brow bones that shielded his eyes. His shoulders had the chronic stoop typical of most scholars.

Personal history: When Rabbi Loew took Diana into the Jewish quarter to meet the weaver Abraham, she was greeted by him and his friend David Gans. Gans was an astronomer, a mathematician, and a Jewish chronicler, perhaps most famous today for his history of the Jews, Tzemach David. He is buried in the Old Jewish Cemetery in Prague.

FERNANDO GONÇALVES

Origin of name: Gonçalves is of Portuguese origin, meaning “son of Gonçalo.”

Date of birth: Unknown

Date of rebirth: Unknown

Physical description: Fernando has dark hair and deep brown eyes, with broad shoulders and a fit physique.

A member of: The Knights of Lazarus

Family and romantic relationships: Fernando was Hugh de Clermont’s mate and still considers himself so, despite Hugh’s death. He is close to Hugh’s stepbrother Matthew, as well as Hugh’s son, Gallowglass, and is part of the de Clermont network, though some in the family (including Philippe) did not acknowledge his position as Hugh’s mate. He is godfather to Diana and Matthew’s daughter, Rebecca Bishop-Clairmont.

Personal history: Fernando Gonçalves’s birth family history is hazy, as is the identity of his maker. He had six happy centuries with his mate, Hugh de Clermont, many of which they spent in Córdoba. When Philippe and the de Clermont family became too much for Hugh, he often escaped with Fernando to their homes on the Iberian peninsula.

Fernando is a calm, caring figure, always seeing to other people’s needs. In his relationship with Hugh, Fernando was the one who managed the practical side of their lives, keeping their household running smoothly and making sure Hugh turned up for battle with a sword rather than a book of poetry. Fernando is also a talented cook.

After Hugh died at the beginning of the fourteenth century, Fernando turned down Matthew’s offer to lead the Knights of Lazarus and avoided Sept-Tours. But he always maintained his friendship with Matthew and Gallowglass. Now, as a member of the Bishop-Clairmont scion and godfather to Diana and Matthew’s daughter, he is in the center of a new family.

ISOBEL GOWDIE

Date of birth: c. 1632

A member of: The Auldhearn coven

Family and romantic relationships: Great-grandmother of the modern-day witch Janet Gowdie; lover of vampire Benjamin de Clermont

Personal history: Isobel Gowdie was a witch (and a weaver) from Auldhearn in Nairnshire, Scotland. In 1662 she was tried for witchcraft. Rather than denying the charges, she told a colorful story of meeting with a witches’ coven, feasting with the king and queen of the fairies, and being baptized by the devil with her own blood after he sucked it out of her shoulder. Some humans believe she was deluded or psychotic while others believe she made up these stories to avoid torture. Her execution is not recorded, but some stories report that she was strangled (a sign of mercy for having confessed) before being burned at the stake.

Shortly prior to being tried for witchcraft, Isobel Gowdie had a passionate affair with the vampire Benjamin de Clermont and gave birth to the Bright Born child Janet Gowdie. During the trial Isobel reported having had sex with the devil; for anyone acquainted with Benjamin de Clermont, her mistake is understandable.

JANET GOWDIE

Origin of name: Gowdie is an old Scottish name and a variant on Goudie or Goldie.

Date of birth: May 11, 1841

Astrological sign: Taurus

Physical description: Has a broad Scottish accent, an unlined and ageless round face with a dimpled smile, white hair, and twinkling gray eyes

A member of: The Congregation

Family and romantic relationships: Janet’s grandmother Janet Gowdie was a Bright Born, the child of a passionate affair between vampire Benjamin Fox and weaver Isobel Gowdie.

Personal history: Janet Gowdie is a modern witch, well known for her spell-casting abilities and a member of one of the most respected witch families in Scotland. After Peter Knox was forced to leave his seat on the Congregation because of his involvement in Emily Mather’s death, the other witches persuaded Janet Gowdie to come out of semiretirement and take his seat. When Diana appeared at her first Congregation meeting at Isola della Stella, Janet was the only witch there to greet her warmly, and she spoke kindly of Diana’s parents.

Unlike other members of the Congregation, Janet was unsurprised by Diana’s revelations about the existence of Benjamin and his horrifying efforts to create a vampire-witch child by raping a kidnapped witch. This is because Janet, too, knows the secret that the witches discovered long ago: that some witches can conceive a child with vampires who have blood rage and that those children, the Bright Born, are powerful creatures who possess some of the qualities of both parents.

Janet’s great-grandmother Isobel Gowdie was a weaver who’d had a love affair with the vampire Benjamin Fox (though Isobel knew him then as “Nickie-Ben”). Eventually Benjamin moved on, never knowing that he and Isobel had conceived a child. That child was the first Janet Gowdie, and she lived for 250 years. She inherited long life and the terrifying, lethal temper of her vampire father, plus a bit of magic from her mother. The first Janet Gowdie delighted in her Bright Born powers and in the fact that her exploits spawned the legend of the baobhan sith. These were mythological female creatures of the Scottish Highlands who were said to prey upon young men by luring them with magical enchantments, attacking them with sharp talons and sucking their blood. Janet passed her longevity down to her daughter and then on to her granddaughter and namesake, Janet Gowdie of the Congregation, who is still going strong at 169 years of age.

H

ERASMUS HABERMEL

Origin of name: Habermel or Habermehl is of German origin and an occupational name, referring to someone who is a producer or trader in oats (haber).

Date of birth: c. 1538

Physical description: Diana encountered a thin man who had a workman’s scarred hands.

Personal history: An astonishingly prolific instrument maker in the late sixteenth century, Erasmus Habermel was probably born in southern Germany, but not much is known about his background. His beautiful and functional astronomical and mathematical instruments brought him to the attention of Holy Roman Emperor Rudolf II, and Rudolf appointed him royal instrument maker at his court in Prague. There he worked alongside the astronomers, alchemists, and many other artists and instrument makers whom Rudolf had gathered around him.

In Prague, Habermel lived with his wife in the Malá Strana neighborhood, near Diana and Matthew’s home. Soon after the emperor met Diana, he commissioned Habermel to produce an astronomical compendium custom-made to her specifications. Even though Habermel had to guess wildly at the coordinates for the North American colony of Roanoke, Diana appreciated the intricate craftsmanship and utility of Habermel’s compendium. He died in Prague in 1606.

See also: DECORATIVE ARTS: Compendium

TADEÁŠ HÁJEK

Origin of name: Hájek is of Czech origin and an occupational name for a woodman, or someone who lived next to a grove (háj meaning “grove”).

Date of birth: December 1, 1525

Astrological sign: Sagittarius

Physical description: A kindly looking man who was around sixty when Diana met him.

Family and romantic relationships: Tadeáš Hájek, from an old Prague family, had three wives, three sons, and one daughter.

Personal history: Tadeáš Hájek was born in Prague and was a student of botany, astronomy, astrology, mathematics, and medicine. Hájek was active as a lecturer in those fields and corresponded vigorously with other scientists in his city of birth as well as throughout Europe, including John Dee. His scientific interests were varied. For example, he published one of the first books on brewing beer, titled On Beer and the Methods of Its Preparation, Its Substance, Strengths, and Effects, and wrote another that explained how to make medical diagnoses based on a combination of divination and the study of the placement of moles on the body. During his lifetime Hájek was perhaps best known as an astronomer and for his position as physician to the Holy Roman emperor Rudolf II. Hájek met Diana at Rudolf’s palace for the first time, although he was already acquainted with her husband, Matthew.

THOMAS HARRIOT

Origin of name: Harriot is possibly of French origin or Scottish from Heriot.

Date of birth: c. 1560

Physical description: Slender, with a pointed chin, red hair, and a dark complexion

A member of: The School of Night

Family and romantic relationships: He never married and lived with various patrons, including members of the School of Night.

Personal history: Thomas Harriot was a brilliant mathematician and astronomer as well as a talented linguist and alchemist. With a daemonic curiosity, he unfortunately had a habit of making scientific discoveries that he then failed to publish.

Very little is known of Thomas Harriot’s youth or early life before he attended Oxford in 1580. He later moved to London, where he began work for Walter Raleigh and became part of the circle of thinkers and scholars known as the School of Night. Under Raleigh’s employ Harriot soon demonstrated his value as a cartographer and navigational tutor. He also contributed significantly to the design and construction of Raleigh’s ships, in addition to hiring sailors, raising funds, and keeping the accounts for Raleigh’s voyages. In England, Harriot met two native Croatan people, Manteo and Wanchese, who were visiting the country after meeting English explorers in their native land. Harriot learned the Carolinian Algonquin language from Manteo, as well as other information that proved useful to the English colonists. (Wanchese refused to speak with the English, suspicious of their colonial motives.) Harriot visited the English colonies in 1585 and wrote a book, A Briefe and True Report of the New Found Land of Virginia, the only work he published during his lifetime.

As Raleigh’s reputation began to decline after 1592, Harriot was compelled to seek employment elsewhere. He was taken on by another member of the School of Night, Henry Percy, the 9th Earl of Northumberland. But soon after Queen Elizabeth’s death in 1603, Walter Raleigh and then Henry Percy came under suspicion from her successor, King James I. Each was imprisoned in the Tower of London, as was Harriot, albeit more briefly. Throughout his association with Raleigh and Percy, Harriot continued to make significant discoveries in the fields of ballistics, navigational techniques, algebra, optics (he discovered the sine law of refraction of light before Snell), and astronomy (he was the first to discover sunspots). Sadly, many of his ideas perished for want of a publisher. Harriot continued to do scientific work up until his death in 1621, but he never published anything more, possibly out of a desire to avoid attention that might land him in the tower again.

Due to the recent, fortunate discovery in the All Souls world of a telescope engraved with Harriot’s name, however, we now have evidence to confirm what many historians of science have long suspected: that Thomas Harriot, not Galileo, created the first telescope in 1591.

VIVIAN HARRISON

Origin of name: Harrison is of Anglo-Saxon origin, meaning “son of Harry” (Harry as an alternative form of Henry).

Date of birth: c. 1960s

Physical description: Shoulder-length silver hair and emerald green eyes

A member of: The Madison Coven

Family and romantic relationships: Vivian’s roots lie in an old Hamilton family from Connecticut. She is married to Roger Harrison, and godmother to Rebecca Bishop-Clairmont.

Personal history: Vivian is a “bulldozer,” according to Sarah Bishop, and a sharp, observant witch. Like the Bishops, the women of her family have kept their name regardless of marriage. Vivian’s husband, Roger, went one step further and changed his last name from Barker to Harrison when they got married, something that has earned him a spot in the Madison coven annals for his willingness to honor tradition.

Vivian is the high priestess of the Madison coven and Sarah’s accountant.

MARGARET HAWLEY

Origin of name: Hawley is of Anglo-Saxon origins and a place-name.

Date of birth: Unknown

Family and romantic relationships: Married to Robert Hawley, with whom she had several children

Personal history: Margaret Hawley was Robert’s gimlet-eyed wife, who kept close watch over their children as well as over Robert’s unmarried male apprentices and his many customers. As an Elizabethan housewife, Margaret would have been expected to cook and sew for her household, manage the domestic economy, govern their servants and apprentices, plus be her husband’s partner in his shoemaking business. Sixteenth-century housewives kept a sharp eye on the goings-on in the households of their neighbors, too, and expected that their neighbors would do the same. This dragnet of feminine domestic surveillance was why it was almost impossible for Diana—or indeed for any man, woman, or child—to enjoy a shred of privacy in sixteenth-century London.

ROBERT HAWLEY

Date of birth: Unknown

Family and romantic relationships: Married to Margaret Hawley, with whom he had several children

Personal history: Robert Hawley was a shoemaker who lived with his wife and children at the Hart and Crown, a half-timbered, two-story building on London’s Water Lane. The building possessed the unusual luxury of an interior courtyard, and Matthew Roydon; his wife, Diana; and their servants and family had rooms on the first floor there.

In a world where most people made their living on their feet, shoemaking was a useful and common trade, and the sheer bulk of his account book suggests that Robert was an ambitious and productive craftsman. He seems to have married a woman who was every bit his equal in ambition and productivity.

HECTOR AND FALLON

Matthew’s devoted dogs at present-day Sept-Tours.

JOHN HESTER

Origin of name: Hester has old Germanic origins, connected to the name Heister, and speculated to be an occupational name for a town crier (a civic official who made announcements).

Date of birth: Unknown

Personal history: John Hester was a well-known and respected apothecary and alchemist, with a shop on St. Paul’s Wharf by the Thames in sixteenth-century London. He was known for his sealing wax and his excellent ink made from iris flowers, as well as his books of medical cures and a rather higher class of customers. Mary Sidney, Countess of Pembroke, for instance, used his migraine remedy for her son’s headaches. Historians know John Hester for his English translations of foreign medical treatises, which he contended would provide practical remedies for ordinary citizens (if they managed to survive the often toxic cures or addictive opiates he advised and dispensed). As a supporter of the physician Paracelsus’s medical ideas, Hester was a manufacturer of chemical medicines.

When Diana time-traveled to London in 1590, she needed an acceptable excuse to wander through London’s crowded streets in search of a witch to serve as her tutor, and Hester’s shop provided the perfect pretext for an excursion. While she had no evidence that Hester was a witch (and indeed he was not), Diana heard of his superior products and his excellent location near the crowded churchyard of St. Paul’s. She was intercepted by George Chapman on her way to Hester’s shop and never made his acquaintance but was able to purchase one of his medical books at a different apothecary, which she learned was the Elizabethan equivalent of a general store.

NICHOLAS HILLIARD

Origin of name: Nicholas is a name of Greek origins, meaning “victory of the people.” The name Hilliard has Anglo-Saxon and Germanic roots.

Date of birth: c. 1547

Physical description: When Diana met him, Nicholas had a pointed beard and dark hair peppered with gray.

A member of: The Worshipful Company of Goldsmiths

Family and romantic relationships: Hilliard was the son of an English Protestant goldsmith, Richard Hilliard from Devon. He was married to Alice Brandon, and they had seven children together.

Personal history: Nicholas Hilliard was an English painter and a goldsmith who, coincidentally, lived for some of his childhood with John Bodley’s family, including Bodley’s young son Thomas (later the founder of Oxford’s Bodleian Library). As a young man, Hilliard apprenticed himself to the queen’s jeweler, Robert Brandon, and by the early 1570s he was one of Queen Elizabeth’s goldsmiths and limners (painters of miniatures). He and his able assistant Isaac Oliver also limned many portraits for Scotland’s King James and his court. Hilliard soon became a favored artist at both courts. In the mid-1570s, Hilliard married Brandon’s daughter, Alice, and they went on to have a large family.

Hilliard’s portraits are famed for their ability to capture the spirit of his subjects. He eschewed the drama offered by the shadows of chiaroscuro painting, preferring instead to paint his subjects with full light on their faces, which he thought best displayed their true selves. Believing that his paintings laid open the inner lives and secrets of his subjects, Hilliard felt that they ought to be for private viewing only. Many of his clients seemed to agree, including Queen Elizabeth, who kept a collection of his miniatures locked in a personal cabinet in her bedroom.

In addition to his numerous royal portraits of Elizabeth and James, Hilliard also painted many prominent Elizabethan courtiers, including Sir Walter Raleigh; Mary Sidney, the Countess of Pembroke; and Henry Percy, the Earl of Northumberland. Always hard up for cash, Hilliard eventually began to paint portraits for lesser gentry and even well-off merchants. Given such a prolific output, the names of many of his subjects have been lost over time or misidentified, including two of a mysterious couple painted in the 1590s.

See also: DECORATIVE ARTS: Miniatures of an Unknown Couple

JORIS HOEFNAGEL

Origin of name: Joris is the Dutch form of George, which has Greek origins, meaning “earthworker” or “farmer.”

Date of birth: 1542

Family and romantic relationships: Hoefnagel was the son of a diamond dealer in Antwerp. He married Suzanne van Onchem in 1571, and they had a son, Jacob, who also became an artist.

Personal history: Joris Hoefnagel was one of the foremost painters of the late sixteenth century. A Flemish artist famous for his powers of keen observation, Hoefnagel often worked in miniature, sometimes painting beautiful and finely detailed portraits of humans. But his artwork also included intricate drawings of landscapes, insects, flowers, and plants. He is known, too, for his calligraphic manual and his mythical representations. He did not hesitate to paint challenging subjects, like a split apple or a pea pod or the glittering, iridescent body of an insect, and indeed one suspects that he might have chosen those subjects precisely for their difficulty.

Hoefnagel traveled extensively in Europe, living and working at various times in Antwerp, London, Munich, Venice, Rome, and of course Prague, where he encountered Diana and Matthew in the winter of 1591. Upon meeting Hoefnagel, Diana immediately realized that very little escaped his notice.

Hoefnagel’s renown had brought him to the attention of the Holy Roman emperor Rudolf II, who was an enthusiastic collector of artists and their work. Under Rudolf’s patronage, artists from all over Europe gathered in the city of Prague, and the more prominent ones, like Hoefnagel, were installed in workshops and residences within and near the imperial palace.

Hoefnagel was pressed into service to design and create an elaborate set for Diana’s masque, in which Rudolf, she, and Matthew performed the story of Zeus, Diana, and Endymion, respectively. Those set pieces, unfortunately, have not survived. However, many modern museums have paintings by Hoefnagel, from the J. Paul Getty in Los Angeles and the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York to the Palazzo Ducale in Venice. Hoefnagel might have drawn inspiration from that memorable performance in Rudolf’s palace, because in 1597 he completed a painting titled Diana and Actaeon, which now resides in the Louvre in Paris.

ANDREW HUBBARD

Other name: Father Hubbard

Origin of name: Hubbard is derived from an ancient Anglo-Saxon and Old German name, Hubert or Hugibert, using the elements hug, meaning “heart, spirit, mind,” and beorht, meaning “bright, famous.” A medieval parish church called St. Andrew Hubbard once stood in the Billingsgate ward of the City of London, but it was destroyed in the Great Fire of 1666.

Date of birth: c. 1310

Date of rebirth: c. 1349

Physical description: Father Hubbard is tall and thin, with slightly stooped, broad shoulders and somber clothes fitting for a priest. His slate-colored eyes provide notes of contrast in his otherwise pallid appearance and pale, clean-shaven face. He has blond hair.

Family and romantic relationships: The vampire king of London, Andrew Hubbard embraces countless creatures in his family, protecting them and expecting full loyalty in return. His flock included the witch Annie Undercroft and later Jack Blackfriars, whom he made into a vampire. Hubbard’s sire was Benjamin Fox, his grandsire Matthew de Clermont.

Personal history: Andrew Hubbard’s origins are a mystery to many creatures. At the time the Black Death first visited England and wiped out nearly half of London by 1349, Hubbard helped care for the sick and bury the dead before he himself succumbed to the plague. Legend has it that he dug his own grave and climbed into it. He was then brought back to life by a mysterious vampire, later revealed to be Benjamin Fox.

Benjamin hoped Hubbard would have blood rage and that Fox could use him to raise an army against the de Clermonts and their allies. But Hubbard disappointed him and broke away, organizing his own network and becoming famous as the vampire leader of London. Gathering up orphans, widows, and any other lost souls who crossed his path through the centuries, he turned those who fell ill into vampires and regarded them all (witches, daemons, and vampires) as his children. In return for protection, he expected them to offer their blood, which Hubbard claimed revealed their souls to him and provided proof God had entrusted them to his care. In fact it laid bare their secrets and gave him power over them. Philippe de Clermont reached an agreement with Hubbard that the de Clermonts in London were exempt from his rituals of allegiance, and they lived a wary coexistence. Matthew often argued with Hubbard about where the boundaries of his domain extended, considering it to include only the city of London.

Hubbard did not show signs of blood rage, but he passed it on to his son Jack Blackfriars and warned Jack that he must not create other vampires himself. He wasn’t able to protect Jack from Benjamin’s poisonous influence, however.

Hubbard still lives in his domain of London in a converted church, Christ Church Greyfriars, drawing lost souls of all species and ages into his brood.

FRAU HUBER

Frau Huber was a clever Austrian woman of Malá Strana in sixteenth-century Prague. Along with the other housewives of the neighborhood, she collected gossip about the goings-on in Rudolf II’s palace as avidly as she kept watch over the vegetable merchants and neighbors’ households. When in Prague, Diana made Frau Huber’s acquaintance and, through her and her elaborate chain of relationships, managed to gain entrance to Edward Kelley’s home in Prague.

I

MASTER IFFLEY

A glover in sixteenth-century Woodstock, Iffley was a clumsy, obtuse man with an unfortunate, rodentlike appearance and an inflated opinion of his own importance. Having made one pair of gloves for the queen, Iffley reckoned he was now a man of standing in Woodstock, and he accompanied the Reverend Danforth to the Old Lodge in order to accuse Diana Bishop of witchcraft.

J

ELIZABETH JACKSON

Elizabeth Jackson, tall and straight, with steely gray hair and eyes, was an elderly waterwitch and a gifted seer in sixteenth-century London. A member of the St. James Garlickhythe gathering, she helped Diana harness and understand her power.

RIMA JAÉN

Rima is a Spanish librarian of Berber descent (whose first name comes from the Spanish word for “story” or “tale”). She is curvy, with warm skin and almond-shaped eyes. Rima was employed in the Gonçalves Library, a small and impoverished specialist archive in twenty-first-century Seville, Spain, which houses an eclectic collection of books and manuscripts. There are hidden treasures at the Gonçalves, including a dusty discovery that Rima unearthed, an English commonplace book from the late sixteenth century.

Rima was forced out of her job there and found employment at the Congregation’s library on the Isola della Stella, in Venice, after the previous librarian and secretary (traditionally always a human) died of a heart attack. There she finally met the original owner of the small book, when Diana took the de Clermont seat at the Congregation’s table.

SATU JÄRVINEN

Origin of name: Satu is a Finnish name, meaning “fairy tale” or “fable.”

Date of birth: November 8, 1975

Astrological sign: Scorpio

Physical description: In her thirties, with fair skin, blue eyes, and platinum-blond hair. She is small and strong.

A member of: The Congregation

Family and romantic relationships: Satu was born in Lapland and has witch parents.

Personal history: Satu Järvinen was able to work spells before she could talk or read. There had been witches like her before in her small Finnish village, but legends say that one day strangers came and killed them all. Satu doesn’t understand why her powers are different from those of other witches; she only knows that they pose a threat to her family and herself. She has learned to pass as an ordinary witch, but in truth Satu is one of the world’s few surviving weavers. She is also a windwitch and an accomplished flier.

Satu’s spell-casting abilities brought her to the attention of the Congregation, and she has been groomed to occupy the seat she now holds. She is one of Knox’s allies and has cultivated a careful relationship with Gerbert, mainly because she doesn’t trust him.

When Satu met Diana Bishop, she recognized that the two of them were similar. From this point Diana became her greatest enemy, and Diana felt the full force of her cruelty at La Pierre. Satu feared that if Diana’s hidden abilities were exposed, her own would be, too. This makes Satu a deadly opponent, as she believes only Diana’s destruction will keep her safe from harm. Diana later had her revenge and spellbound Satu.

JEHANNE

An attractive and biddable serving maid in Philippe de Clermont’s household at Sept-Tours in sixteenth-century France, and the older sister of Catrine. Both Jehanne and Catrine served Diana Bishop as ladies’ maids. Jehanne in particular helped Diana look the part of a fashionable lady and bride, using the education in French fashion she’d acquired when serving Louisa de Clermont in Paris only a year earlier.

JOAN

Maid to Mary Sidney, the Countess of Pembroke, in sixteenth-century London, Joan served variously as maidservant, alchemical laboratory assistant, and on occasion a kind friend to young Annie Undercroft, Diana and Matthew’s adolescent charge.

CARDINAL JOYEUSE

Full name: Cardinal François de Joyeuse

Date of birth: June 24, 1562

Astrological sign: Cancer

Family and romantic relationships: Son of Guillaume de Joyeuse and Eleanor de Batarnay and one of a family of soldiers and bishops

Personal history: The cardinal was a visitor to the seaside abbey at Mont Saint-Michel in the sixteenth century, where he unexpectedly met Matthew and Diana on their hurried journey to Sept-Tours. Born in Carcassonne, Cardinal Joyeuse came from a deeply religious family with connections to the French monarchy. After attending university, he rose quickly through the ranks of the Catholic Church while remaining close to the French Crown. With such credentials it’s unsurprising that Cardinal Joyeuse and Matthew de Clermont were well acquainted, since they shared much more than their Catholic spiritual convictions: Both were caught up in the religious wars and political intrigue of Protestants and Catholics in France and England at the end of the sixteenth century.

K

KAROLINA

Karolina is a servant and a cook in the household of Sporrengasse in Prague. Along with Tereza, the housekeeper, she is a member of a sprawling clan of Bohemian vampires dedicated to serving the aristocracy and important foreign visitors to Prague, who earned their reputation (and large salaries) because of their preternatural longevity and wolfish loyalty.

EDWARD KELLEY

Other name: Edward Talbot

Origin of name: Kelley is possibly an anglicized version of Scottish and Irish Gaelic variations.

Date of birth: August 1, 1555

Astrological sign: Leo

Physical description: He had a long, unkempt beard and wore a dark skullcap that hid his ears.

Family and romantic relationships: Married to Joanna Kelley and stepfather to her two children. There is speculation that he also fathered a son with Jane Dee, but this is not borne out by the records of Jane’s menstrual cycles kept by her husband, John Dee.

Personal history: Edward Kelley, the assistant to Dr. John Dee and later alchemist in the court of Rudolf II, came from obscure beginnings. His youth and education are unknown, though he might have been born with the name Edward Talbot and may have attended university, perhaps Oxford. It is certain that somewhere along the way he learned a considerable amount of Latin and Greek.

Edward Talbot probably changed his name to Edward Kelley because of an unsavory past. He is believed to have been convicted of forgery, been pilloried, and had his ears cropped for punishment. For the rest of his life, Kelley made a habit of wearing a close-fitting cap, probably to hide the loss of his ears, a telltale mark of his criminal conviction.

In 1582 Kelley approached John Dee, who was in need of a scryer to speak with angels, and Kelley demonstrated a remarkable aptitude for the job. Over the next decade, he and Dee invested countless hours engaged in conversations with various spirits, in an effort to uncover hitherto hidden knowledge about the natural world. Despite the toll this took on both men and their families—Kelley had married widow Joanna Weston and welcomed her two children into his household—Dee seemed willing to continue their efforts indefinitely. Finally Edward Kelley revealed to Dee that the spirit Madimi had commanded them to share everything, including their wives. After some prayerful and pained soul searching, the Dees and Joanna Kelley complied with this request, but the episode marked the end of their association. The Dees left Prague, where they had traveled together.

In the meantime Kelley continued to work as an alchemist in Prague, a profession that over time appeared to hold rather more prestige and promise than did employment as Dee’s scryer. Queen Elizabeth was most eager to have Kelley return to England, where she believed—despite Matthew Roydon’s skepticism—that he was close to discovering the philosopher’s stone. The Holy Roman emperor Rudolf believed the same and, through a combination of inducements and threats, kept Kelley working long hours at his court. This is where Matthew and Diana finally tracked him down, and Diana immediately perceived how disturbed he was.

For years Kelley persuaded the emperor that he was on the brink of success, but eventually Rudolf lost patience and had him imprisoned. The exact date and circumstances of Kelley’s death are murky. Some reported that he died in 1597 or 1598 of injuries sustained in an attempted escape from the castle where he was being held. Others insist he was still alive in 1600, though keeping a low profile so as to avoid the emperor’s anger.

JOANNA KELLEY

Full name and other names: Joanna (or Jane) Cooper, Joanna Weston

Date of birth: 1563

Family and romantic relationships: Married to Edward Kelley, with two children from her first marriage, including the poet Elizabeth Jane Weston.

Personal history: Joanna Kelley was the wife of Dee’s assistant and crystal gazer Edward Kelley. After her first husband, a John Weston of Chipping Norton, died, the widowed Joanna married Edward. She brought her children to live with her: a boy, John Francis Weston, and a girl, Elizabeth Jane Weston. The marriage between Joanna and Edward was childless, and he seemed to have been pleased with his stepchildren. According to Joanna’s daughter, Elizabeth, the children’s relationship with their stepfather was a happy one, and he paid for their education in Latin, among other things.

We do not know if Joanna and Edward enjoyed a happy marriage, but there are indications that it faced unusual strains. The time in Prague might have been particularly difficult for Joanna, especially after the Dee family left the city to return to England. Joanna was isolated from her neighbors and lonely for her English home, with little company except for her children and servants while Edward spent long days at his work for Emperor Rudolf. Joanna outlived Edward. Near the end of his life, as well as after his unfortunate death, Joanna and her daughter sought to salvage her husband’s waning reputation, which would have been inextricably intertwined with their own. They were unsuccessful.

See also: Jane Dee, John Dee, Edward Kelley

PETER KNOX

Origin of name: Peter is of Greek origin, meaning “rock” or “stone.”

Date of birth: April 15, 1945

Astrological sign: Aries

Physical description: Knox is in his sixties. He looks like a tweedy expert from a television documentary, with salt-and-pepper hair, spectacles, and an air of authority. But there is an avaricious gleam in his eye that causes other creatures to turn away.

A member of: The Congregation

Personal history: Peter Knox is a witch of great ambition and considerable skill. Though he has real talent, it is his devotion to detail and study that has made him a leader among witches. Knox’s mastery of magical lore, his knowledge of spells and his ability to replicate them precisely make him stand out among his peers. Knox is old-school.

He has risen to the highest echelons of witch society and occupies a seat on the Congregation. He is also a scholarly expert on the history of magic and ritual, providing a bridge to the world of humans. Museums and the media often call upon Knox to vet manuscripts and objects or comment on issues that touch upon the occult. Despite these achievements Knox is envious of witches who have more natural ability than he does. He resents having to put in long hours to perfect his skills. Like most in this predicament, no matter how adept he is, Knox always feels there is something just out of his grasp. He always wants more: more power, more magic, more influence.

Decades ago Peter Knox became obsessed with just such a witch: Diana’s mother, Rebecca Bishop. Not only was Rebecca well trained, but she had an intuitive grasp of magic that cannot be taught. The two were often pitted against each other during their teen years, when Congregation officials set up a series of competitive training exercises to identify the next generation of witch leaders. Rebecca was the only witch who could best Knox. After losing the top spot to Rebecca Bishop, Knox vowed never to be in second place again. This makes him a dangerous enemy. No matter what Peter Knox says, he is interested in only one thing: winning.

L

LOBERO

Lobero is the dog that the besotted Emperor Rudolf gave to “La Diosa” in sixteenth-century Prague. Lobero is a Komondor, and his name means “wolf hunter” in Spanish, clearly a gibe at Matthew. Young Jack Blackfriars immediately adopted Lobero, beginning a centuries-long tradition of Komondor ownership. For sentimental reasons Jack calls each new dog Lobero.

RABBI JUDAH LOEW

Full name and other names: Judah Loew ben Bezalel; Yehuda ben Bezalel; Maharal of Prague; “The MaHaRaL,” the Hebrew acronym of Moreinu Ha-Rav Loew (Our Teacher, Rabbi Loew)

Origin of name: The name “Löw” or “Loew” is derived from the German Löwe, “lion.”

Date of birth: Possibly 1525

Physical description: Fatherly and wise, with a long beard and dark hair

Family and romantic relationships: A wife, Pearl, six daughters, and a son. According to Jewish tradition, his family was descended from King David.

Personal history: Rabbi Loew was a leading Talmudic scholar, mystic, and philosopher in sixteenth-century Prague and known for his works on Jewish philosophy and mysticism. He was also linked to the nineteenth-century legend about the Golem of Prague, although All Souls readers know that it was in fact Abraham ben Elijah who created it.

Rabbi Loew was briefly in possession of one of the missing Book of Life pages but passed it on to Abraham ben Elijah. He is buried in the Old Jewish Cemetery in Prague, where his tombstone can still be seen today.

M

MORDECHAI MAISEL

Full name and other names: Mordechai Marcus Meisel, Mordechaj Marek Meisel

Date of birth: 1528

Family and romantic relationships: Mordechai had two wives, Eva and later Frummet

Personal history: Maisel was a prosperous merchant and philanthropist in the Jewish Town of sixteenth-century Prague. He built the Maisel Synagogue, which for a century was the most significant building in the Prague ghetto. He also helped Rudolf II with small financial matters, like his war against the Turks. In Shadow of Night, he guided Diana safely back from her meeting with Rabbi Loew in Prague’s Jewish Town.

CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE

Full name: Christopher “Kit” Marlowe

Origin of name: Marlowe is of Old English origins, and a locational name.

Date of birth: Before February 26, 1564 (date of his baptism)

Astrological sign: Aquarius or Pisces

Physical description: A man with tousled brown hair, of average height, with a neat build and expensive, tailored clothes

A member of: The School of Night

Family and romantic relationships: Marlowe was the son of John and Catherine Marlowe from Canterbury. He never married but was particularly close to the enigmatic Matthew Roydon and others in the School of Night.

Personal history: Christopher Marlowe, known as Kit to his friends, was a daemon, born into an ordinary human family in sixteenth-century England. His father was a shoemaker. Marlowe rose from those humble beginnings to become one of the foremost playwrights of Elizabethan England, a spy in Her Majesty’s service, and a member of the adventurous thinkers known as the School of Night.

As a young man, Marlowe studied on a scholarship at Corpus Christi College in Cambridge, where his attendance was marred by long absences due to time spent working as a spy for the queen. It was perhaps in that capacity he met another spy, the vampire Matthew Roydon, who was to become one of his best friends, along with the other members of the School of Night. Historians know little of his private life. As All Souls readers are aware, however, Marlowe harbored a deep love for Matthew Roydon and was intensely jealous of his wife.

An impulsive creature of deep passions, Kit was inordinately fond of food, drink, and fine clothes and was a profligate spender. Notwithstanding the income he earned as a spy, Marlowe was chronically in debt, forced to dodge his landlords and other lenders. He was also a brawler, and on numerous occasions his behavior—or at least his habit of keeping violent company—landed him in court. He was never convicted of any violent crime, but it’s possible his secret employment in Her Majesty’s service offered him some protection.

Despite his tumultuous and untidy private life, Marlowe was best known by his contemporaries for his dramatic plays. He was alive and writing during a golden age for English drama, and indeed he was born the same year as William Shakespeare. Marlowe wrote six immensely influential plays that shaped Shakespeare’s own verse (and there is evidence that he also contributed material for Shakespeare’s plays), though only two of Marlowe’s plays were published and performed before his death. The others, including his masterful Doctor Faustus, were published posthumously. He also began a poem, Hero and Leander, which George Chapman, another member of the School of Night, finished after his death.

Perhaps unsurprisingly for one who lived recklessly, Marlowe died young, at the age of twenty-nine. While the circumstances surrounding his death are cloudy, it is likely that his fondness for drink and opiates, in combination with a jealous temperament and a lifelong habit of brawling, contributed to his demise. In 1593 he was stabbed and killed in a disagreement over an unpaid bar tab. The authorities deemed his death an accident, and his murderer was pardoned, judged to be acting in self-defense against a third person present.

See also: LITERATURE: Doctor Faustus, The Jew of Malta, Hero and Leander

MARTHE

Origin of name: Marthe is the French form of Martha, meaning “lady” or “mistress.”

Date of birth: Unknown

Date of rebirth: Unknown

Physical description: Marthe is an unprepossessing dumpling of a creature, nearly as round as she is tall. Her small stature speaks to her great age as a vampire. She was reborn a vampire when she was in her sixties, and given her age there was only so much that vampire blood could do to straighten out gnarled limbs and fill in wrinkles. Her hair is black and silver, her eyes sparkling and expressive, her smile mischievous.

Family and romantic relationships: Marthe has been Ysabeau de Clermont’s closest friend and retainer since time immemorial. By extension she is a loyal and key servant in the de Clermont clan and became godmother to Diana and Matthew’s daughter, Rebecca Bishop-Clairmont.

Personal history: Marthe’s origins are in the mythological dawn of civilization, and she has survived all the Vampire Wars. She possesses a great deal of ancient lore and information and remembers a time long before the Congregation and its covenant. She forgets nothing and no one and is one of the de Clermonts’ greatest assets.

Marthe has no known last name. The only creatures who ever knew Marthe’s age or her origins were Philippe and Ysabeau—and neither of them ever revealed it. As Ysabeau’s companion she was the one who nursed Ysabeau’s tortured body back to health after Philippe rescued her from her blood-rage– infected maker.

Marthe quietly and competently kept the de Clermont household running so that Philippe and Ysabeau could rule the world, and she continues to do so. She is usually found in the bowels of the castle commanding her empire of pots and pans, receiving mail, deliveries of freshly caught game, and the odd package of murder mysteries, which she devours. Marthe is a skilled needlewoman, a fantastic cook, a careful manager of finances, and a selfless friend. She has a great laugh and a wonderful sense of humor, the latter an essential for living with the de Clermonts. She is, in short, the perfect servant.

The modern reader may have a difficult time understanding why a person would be satisfied being a servant for eternity, but Marthe would tell them that to be the trusted confidante of someone like Ysabeau de Clermont is a serious responsibility and that her job is an honorable one. In this respect Marthe is resolutely premodern. She thinks the modern preoccupation with formal degrees and career trajectories is absolutely ridiculous. In her day you were born into a station and made the best of it. Everybody had a divine purpose, and you didn’t tell the gods that they were wrong. Her purpose was to take care of Ysabeau, and she did it superbly when she was a human and will do so forever now that she is a vampire.

EMILY MATHER

Origin of name: The name Emily is derived from Latin, meaning “industrious.”

Date of birth: July 1, 1952

Astrological sign: Cancer

Physical description: Tall, with a narrow face and a cap of prematurely silver hair

A member of: The Madison coven, the Conventicle

Family and romantic relationships: Sarah Bishop’s devoted partner and aunt to Diana

Personal history: Descended from New England immigrant stock on her father’s side, Emily Mather occupied a maternal role in Diana Bishop’s life after the death of her parents in 1983. She was Rebecca Bishop’s closest confidante, and a librarian in Cambridge, Massachusetts, before moving to Madison, New York, to keep an eye on Diana. Once there, Emily fell in love with Sarah Bishop. The two tried to keep their relationship secret during Diana’s teen years. Inevitably, everyone in town—including Diana—knew that the two were life partners.

Emily was soft-spoken and tactful, the yin to Sarah Bishop’s yang, and the domestic one in the Bishop-Mather household. She was also a librarian at the local elementary school and a fixture in the Madison coven. As a witch, Emily had modest craft abilities and a slight tendency toward elemental magic related to air. She could fly short distances and had erratic gifts of premonition. She also had vampire and daemon friends in the past and thought that many of the covenant’s restrictions were outdated and silly.

Emily was maternal, nurturing, and capable of truly unconditional love. She was honest, and she encouraged Sarah and Diana to face difficult truths. Her tragic death, following a confrontation with Peter Knox and Gerbert d’Aurillac, left them devastated. But her ghost still watches over them both.

LUCY MERIWEATHER

Lucy is a librarian at the Beinecke Library, Yale University, who helped Diana in her search for the missing three pages from the Book of Life.

DOMENICO MICHELE

Origin of name: Michele is a derivation of the Hebrew name Michael and means “like God” or “as powerful as God.”

Date of birth: Unknown

Date of rebirth: Unknown

Physical description: Domenico is angelically handsome, with dark skin, dark hair worn curling low onto his collar, and dark eyes. He looks innocent and trustworthy, which he is decidedly not. His likeness can be seen in the Portrait of a Man by Andrea del Sarto.

A member of: The Congregation

Family and romantic relationships: Domenico Michele has his own clan of vampire children, whom he uses to further his power and political maneuverings. While doge of Venice, he was married to a vampire named Alicia. He had a relationship with Louisa de Clermont at one time and held daemon Tatiana Alkaev in his thrall.

Personal history: Reborn a vampire in Venice in the early Middle Ages, Domenico Michele is a survivor. He competed successfully in the lethal world of the city’s vampire politics during the Vampire Wars. The city was terrifying at the time, with assassins around every corner and daily bloodbaths as daemons, humans, vampires, and witches were caught up in the power struggles between rival vampire clans. Michele survived by deliberately taking a backseat while the more powerful vampires around him fought for dominance. Working first for one side, then the other, Michele fed a constant stream of poison and misinformation carefully constructed to bring down everyone but himself. That Domenico succeeded is a testament to his talent for skulduggery and underhanded tactics. Domenico then achieved not only vampire leadership but overall civic leadership when he was elected doge in 1117.

It was at this moment that Domenico’s ambitions proved his undoing. Wishing to ally himself with the powerful de Clermont clan, Michele interfered in Philippe’s carefully laid plans to create a creature state in the Holy Land. Under the guise of rescuing Philippe’s imprisoned son Baldwin, Michele sailed into Acre with the Venetian fleet. It was a flashy thing for a vampire to do in the context of the period’s geopolitics, and it drew the attention of humans. This was another factor that led to the formation of the Congregation, the terms of the covenant, and the destruction of Philippe’s dreams.

Domenico has been skulking around ever since. Barred from holding any official position in Venetian politics, he machinates behind the scenes to improve his own fortune and to protect his clan. He wormed his way into the Congregation and allied himself with Gerbert, Knox, and Satu. In all these relationships, Domenico is still playing by his original rules: Let the bigger fish eat one another and wait patiently until the seas are empty and you can rise unchallenged. While he waits, Domenico quietly gathers useful information on his opponents and allies, and he is especially focused on Matthew and Gerbert, whom he sees as the greatest obstacles to his potential success.

SIGNOR MISERONI

Full name: Ottavio Miseroni

Date of birth: 1567

Physical description: When Diana met him, he was a portly man in his twenties.

Family and romantic relationships: One of six generations of lapidary artists, from Francesco Miseroni in 1460 Milan to Ottavio’s grandson, Ferdinand Eusebio

Personal history: Rudolf II invited Ottavio Miseroni to Prague to set up a workshop with his brother in 1588, joining the community of artists and artisans drawn in by the emperor’s patronage. The talented Signor Miseroni was an Italian stonecutter from Milan and carved beautiful vases and fine images from crystal gemstones. He was appointed as official lapidary to the emperor’s court. In 1591 Ottavio was commissioned by Emperor Rudolf to carve Diana’s face into a gem in order to signify His Imperial Majesty’s steadfast and permanent affection for her.

Ottavio’s workshop flourished, and he developed his own distinctive style: many of his finest pieces can be seen in the Louvre. This continued, past his death in 1624, under his son and grandson, until Eusebio’s death in 1684.

See also: DECORATIVE ARTS: Herm in a Niche

N

ERNST NEUMANN

Origin of name: Neumann is of German origin, and the nickname for a newcomer to a place.

Date of birth: c. 1940

Family and romantic relationships: Ernst Neumann is Verin de Clermont’s human mate and, through her, part of the de Clermont clan.

Personal history: Ernst was a frightened six-year-old in Germany at the end of World War II when Verin rescued him from death at the hands of her mother, Ysabeau. Ysabeau had already killed his father. When he grew up, Ernst and Verin fell deeply in love and married when Ernst was twenty-five. His vampire wife stayed forever young, and now, as an older man, living in Berlin, he is the envy of all his friends. Ernst has a healthy distrust of the shadier de Clermonts, including Baldwin, who trained him in the intricacies of international commerce when Ernst was a young man. But he married Verin knowing what she was and accepts the complicated and tangled tales of blood and desire surrounding her family.

JOHN NORMAN AND JEFFREY NORMAN

John and Jeffrey were sons of Susanna Norman in sixteenth-century London and their names are recorded in the registers of St. James Garlickhythe alongside their mother.

SOPHIE NORMAN

Other name: Sophie Wilson

Origin of name: From the Greek sophia, meaning “wisdom”

Date of birth: February 26, 1984

Astrological sign: Pisces

Physical description: Sophie has a sweet, round face and brown eyes. She wears her long hair in a braid and speaks with a soft southern accent.

A member of: The Conventicle

Family and romantic relationships: Married to daemon Nathaniel Wilson; together they have a daughter, Margaret Wilson, who is a witch. She is godmother to Philip Bishop-Clairmont.

Personal history: Sophie Norman grew up in modern-day North Carolina, in the lushly beautiful but sparsely populated town of Seven Devils, surrounded by the Blue Ridge Mountains and the southern Appalachians. She is a daemon born into a family of witches—her parents and grandparents were witches, her grandmother’s house had ghosts who were witches, and Sophie’s mother was also a timewalker.

As a student at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill, Sophie met and fell in love with another daemon, Nathaniel Wilson. They married, and when she became pregnant, Sophie soon realized that the baby would be a witch. They knew enough of creature reproduction to know that their family was unusual at best and feared that the Congregation might harm them or their baby.

Mild-mannered and a bit dreamy, like many daemons, Sophie is also a determined, intrepid young woman. She has powerful visions of the future, and she’s a gifted artist, a potter like her mother and grandmother, though unlike them she doesn’t use witchfire—just ordinary fire—in her kilns. But Sophie’s pots are extraordinary daemonic creations, because she forms the faces from her dreams and visions into jugs. In fact, it was a recurrent dream about the witch Diana Bishop and premonitions of approaching danger that drew an expectant Sophie and her husband, Nathaniel, to the Bishop house in Madison, New York.

For centuries Sophie’s maternal family, the Normans, safeguarded a small silver statue of the goddess Diana that they passed down through generations of witches, until “the time comes [to] give it to the one who has need of it.” The statue is a chess piece from a set given to Matthew de Clermont by Philippe, a piece that Matthew lost in a wager to Christopher Marlowe on All Souls’ Night in 1590. The chess piece that Sophie delivered to Diana and Matthew was key to guiding them to the relative safety of sixteenth-century England.

Sophie has an unusual and circuitous manner of speaking, but the effect is disarming and soothing rather than unsettling. Her occasional flashes of brilliance, such as her observation that the group of vampires, witches, and daemons gathered at the Bishop house were sufficient to form a conventicle, can be startling coming from a young woman who frankly seems more interested in baking cookies than making war.

SUSANNA NORMAN

Origin of name: Susanna is from Hebrew and Greek origins, meaning “lily.”

Date of birth: c. 1560s

Physical description: When Diana encountered Susanna she had a round-face with a snub nose, a gentle chin, and rich brown hair and eyes—just like her descendant Sophie Norman.

A member of: The St. James Garlickhythe gathering/coven

Family and romantic relationships: Mother of John and Jeffrey Norman, aunt of Annie Undercroft, ancestor of Sophie Norman

Personal history: Susanna Norman was a midwife and witch in sixteenth-century London. She introduced Diana to Goody Alsop after seeing Diana’s unusual magical powers. Susannah Norman is mentioned in the sixteenth-century parish register of St. James Garlickhythe, where she is described as midwife to Hugh Plat.

O

HAMISH OSBORNE

Origin of name: Hamish is of Scottish origin, the anglicized version of the Gaelic Seumas.

Date of birth: August 19, 1972

Astrological sign: Leo

Physical description: Hamish is a dapper, handsome man in his thirties. He is dark and about five-eleven.

A member of: The Knights of Lazarus, the Conventicle, All Souls College, Oxford University

Family and romantic relationships: Hamish is from a Glaswegian family. He is unmarried and still looking for the perfect partner. He is godfather to Philip Bishop-Clairmont.

Personal history: Hamish Osborne is a genius. Everybody knows that. What most people don’t know is that he is a daemon and gay. The former rules out his seemingly inevitable appointment as chancellor of the exchequer, although Labour leaders continually press him to run for his Glasgow constituency.

Hamish is Matthew Clairmont’s closest friend. The two met at All Souls, where both had received prestigious Prize Fellowships. Their friendship is based on respect and intellectual compatibility. Few creatures can keep up with them when they start arguing and tossing around literary references and philosophical ideas. Hamish has a healthy sense of Matthew’s strengths (like loyalty) and his weaknesses (like secrecy), but Hamish’s friendship is freely given and unconditional. Along with Miriam, Hamish is one of the few creatures who speaks the truth to Matthew.

He is a member of the Conventicle, which formed at the Bishop house in upstate New York, in defiance of the Congregation and its covenant, and Hamish oversaw the legal arrangements that Diana and Matthew made before they timewalked to sixteenth-century London. Matthew, controversially, appointed him as the ninth knight in the Knights of Lazarus. Marcus promoted him to a higher position when he took control of the order.

Hamish owns a glorious hunting lodge in Lanarkshire, where Matthew often goes to get away from the press of warmbloods in Oxford and to hunt in the open air as a vampire should. Hamish looks forward to those times in Scotland as they often show sides of Matthew that few are allowed to see. There the two hunt, play chess, drink too much, and talk long into the night.

Hamish is forever in search of his perfect partner—and hasn’t found him yet. He had been involved with a vain but beautiful human named William, who sometimes resented how much time Hamish spent with Matthew and doesn’t know that Hamish is a daemon.

Hamish comes from a working-class background in Glasgow. His father was an insurance salesman and his mother a full-time homemaker. Hamish was their only child and somewhat perplexing to the very ordinary humans who produced him. His life was changed forever when a mathematics prodigy at the university recognized him as a daemon and explained to the Osbornes how the world really worked and what kinds of creatures were in it. Were it not for that intervention, Hamish wouldn’t have turned out so well.

He shops on Jermyn Street and Savile Row, likes Liberty of London ties, buys wine at Berry Brothers & Rudd, has a penthouse in Canary Wharf, and frequents the clubs of Soho. He is one of the regular power breakfasters at the Wolseley, where they always give him the best table no matter how crowded the restaurant is.

P

SIGNOR PASETTI

Full name: Alfonso Pasetti

Date of birth: c. 1560s

Personal history: Born in Ferrara, Italy, Signor Alfonso Pasetti was Emperor Rudolf II’s dancing master, charged with overseeing the dancing for the grand court entertainments. Pasetti conducted dance performances at spectacular balls, and he also choreographed dance numbers for masques such as those at the spring festival in Prague where Diana and Matthew performed scenes from the myth of Diana and Endymion.

See also: LIFESTYLE: Dancing

HENRY PERCY

Other name: Earl of Northumberland

Origin of name: Henry is an English name, derived from Old German variations of Haimirich, meaning “home ruler.”

Date of birth: April 27, 1564

Astrological sign: Taurus

Physical description: A lanky young man with a broad face, heavy ash-colored eyebrows, and a pronounced widow’s peak

A member of: The School of Night, the Knights of Lazarus

Family and romantic relationships: Married to Dorothy Devereux, sister of Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex

Personal history: Henry Percy, the ninth Earl of Northumberland, was a wellborn and extremely wealthy nobleman in Elizabethan England. His nickname, the “Wizard Earl,” came from his scientific achievements and his interest in alchemy, mathematics, and cartography, as well as a reference to his famously large library. He was slightly hard of hearing and plagued by a stammer, but neither condition hindered his intellectual curiosity or affected his status as a member of the aristocracy. Henry Percy possessed a wide circle of influential friends, including Mary Sidney, Countess of Pembroke. She shared his scientific interests, and it was Henry Percy who thought to introduce Diana Bishop to the countess.

Percy kept slightly less orthodox company as well. He corresponded frequently with John Dee, the queen’s astrologer, and belonged to that group of suspiciously freethinking intellectuals known as the School of Night, which included Sir Walter Raleigh, Thomas Harriot, George Chapman, Kit Marlowe, and of course Matthew Roydon. Besides providing the stimulation of their company, Raleigh and Harriot also introduced Percy to the gladdening pleasures of tobacco smoking, a habit they’d brought back from the British colony of Virginia.

Percy professed to be Protestant, but he was widely and correctly suspected to be Catholic. His Catholicism made him vulnerable in Protestant England, so Philippe de Clermont offered Henry a position as the ninth knight of the Knights of Lazarus to help protect him. Unfortunately, his position with the Knights of Lazarus did little to shield him from the more common irritations in his life, particularly his fractious and demanding mother, with whom he had a difficult relationship.

Percy’s Catholic leanings did eventually catch up with him. Soon after Queen Elizabeth’s death, King James had him confined to the Tower of London for involvement in the Gunpowder Plot, a failed attempt by a group of English Catholics to overthrow the king. Even though Henry Percy seemed not to have known of the plot, he spent seventeen years locked in the tower. Percy made the best of an unpleasant situation, receiving visitors from the outside such as Thomas Harriot, as well as keeping company with other unfortunates who’d been locked up, including Walter Raleigh. Henry also had a bowling alley built in the tower and would smoke tobacco with friends. He was released in 1621 and lived for another decade.

JOHANNES PISTORIUS

Full name and other names: John Pistorius, Johann Pistorius the Younger, Niddanus

Date of birth: February 14, 1546

Astrological sign: Aquarius

Physical description: Fleshy, with heavy-lidded eyes

Family and romantic relationships: Son of a Protestant minister, Johann Pistorius the Elder, from Germany

Personal history: Johannes Pistorius was a theologian and physician who grew up Lutheran, converted to Calvinism, then became a Catholic priest. He became an imperial councillor and later confessor to Rudolf II.

Diana found out that Pistorius was another university-educated wizard and being groomed for membership in the Congregation. She and Matthew met him at the court of Rudolf II in Prague, where his probing gaze unsettled Diana.

WILLIAM PONSONBY

Origin of name: Ponsonby is an old English place-name, from those of the parish of Ponsonby in the north of England.

Date of birth: c. 1546

A member of: The Stationers’ Company

Personal history: One of the most prominent publishers of the Elizabethan era, William Ponsonby set up shop at the Bishop’s Head, in St. Paul’s Churchyard in sixteenth-century London. He published his first works in 1579, a conduct manual for women and a Protestant sermon. He went on to seek out works of poetry and fiction that he judged would appeal to highbrow literary sensibilities and yet be commercially successful. When Ponsonby managed to secure the Countess of Pembroke’s blessing to publish Arcadia, which was written by her late brother, Sir Philip Sidney, its critical and financial success secured Ponsonby’s standing as a publisher. He later published work by George Chapman, including The Shadow of Night, and Mary Sidney, as well as Edmund Spenser, author of The Faerie Queene.

Ponsonby avoided publishing more lowbrow fiction, including the plays that were so popular in London at the time. He refused outright to publish Christopher Marlowe’s early work, and the resentful Kit never forgave him. Likewise, Ponsonby never published any of William Shakespeare’s plays, though one of his former apprentices, Edward Blount, went on to publish the First Folio of Shakespeare’s plays in 1623, many decades after Ponsonby’s death.

As George Chapman confided to Diana, William Ponsonby would have liked to publish Matthew Roydon’s poetry, but Matthew refused, making the excuse that he wrote poems only for his friends.

MASTER PRIOR

Master Prior was a maker of meat pies in sixteenth-century London and served as Matthew and Diana’s source for “takeout” during their stay.

STEPHEN PROCTOR

Full name: Stephen Addison Proctor

Origin of name: Stephen is of Greek origin, meaning “crown,” or literally “that which surrounds.”

Date of birth: October 5, 1939

Astrological sign: Libra

Physical description: Stephen was handsome in a tweedy, intellectual sort of way. He was of average height and build, not terribly athletic, and his fingers were perpetually stained with ink.

Family and romantic relationships: The Proctors are a distinguished witch family, and several members were accused during the Salem Witch Trials. Stephen was husband to witch Rebecca Bishop and father of Diana Bishop.

Personal history: Like his wife, Rebecca Bishop, Stephen Proctor was descended from victims of the Salem Witch Trials. Five members of the Proctor family were accused of witchcraft during the panic, though only John Proctor was executed. But the Proctor family has never excelled at the craft, and Stephen was no exception. He had lackluster spell-casting abilities, little apparent elemental magical talent, and zero ambition to participate in witch society.

In reality Stephen did have magical abilities—like his daughter, he just didn’t understand them and had learned to hide them from other witches. He could timewalk, for example, and travel to past worlds—a useful skill for an anthropologist. Stephen had a familiar, a heron, that only he could see. And though he was keenly intelligent and had a sharp memory, Stephen couldn’t perform any but the most basic spells unless he wrote them himself. Though Stephen didn’t know it, he was a weaver. And his daughter, Diana, seems to have inherited his few, erratic magical talents.

He didn’t care about being a great witch and was content to have his wife occupy the limelight. Though Stephen was a solid scholar, his work lacked Rebecca’s brilliance. He was content to let Rebecca outshine him there, too. After he met Rebecca, Stephen’s priority was to keep his wife safe, happy, and smiling. This was his whole world, at least until Diana came along. Stephen was a wonderful husband, a devoted father, and a genial member of his academic and neighborhood communities.

Stephen was almost a decade older than Rebecca, and he came of age in the 1960s. His musical tastes, love of fads, and use of slang all captured that particular moment in history. This made him the butt of many affectionate jokes from his students at Wellesley, who treated him as a lovable hippie fossil.

Stephen was a great reader and had wide-ranging tastes in world literature. He was also a great storyteller and loved this bedtime ritual with his daughter.

R

RAKASA

Rakasa is Ysabeau’s beautiful mare, an Andalusian horse whom Diana rides at Sept-Tours. Her name is from an Arabic word and means “dancer.”

SIR WALTER RALEIGH

Origin of name: Walter is an English name, with roots back in an Old German variation meaning “ruler of the army.”

Date of birth: 1552 or 1554

Physical description: Dashing. Broad-shouldered with blue eyes and curling black hair, white teeth, and a dark beard. Fond of wearing silver and black, which were Queen Elizabeth’s colors.

A member of: Oriel College, Oxford University, the School of Night, the Knights of Lazarus

Family and romantic relationships: Married to Bess Throckmorton, with whom he had three sons

Personal history: Walter Raleigh was a soldier and a staunch Protestant from his early youth. After he took part in the successful military campaigns to put down Ireland’s Desmond Rebellions, the Crown awarded him land for his services. Raleigh was an indifferent landlord and a poor manager, however. He preferred adventuring and fighting, and he caught the eye of Queen Elizabeth, who needed a man like him to help her fill the royal coffers. In 1584 she awarded him a charter to explore any distant lands not populated or ruled by Christians and establish English colonies there. The tremendous wealth Spain was extracting from the New World inflamed Raleigh’s and Elizabeth’s imaginations. They intended these British colonies to be bases from which they could attack and plunder Spanish ships and also find extensive reserves of gold and silver. Raleigh would receive one-fifth of the treasure mined there, as well as the glory. This venture did not succeed as they’d hoped, however, and Raleigh’s colonies in the Carolinas, including the Lost Colony of Roanoke, yielded disease, disappointment, and death.

Despite these failures in Virginia, Raleigh remained one of the queen’s favorites and was often present at court. At home he wrote poetry and spent time in the company of scientists and men of letters, including his friends from the School of Night. He also continued to make voyages to the Americas in search of treasure, took part in naval skirmishes against the Spanish, and held various seats in Parliament. He was exactly the kind of powerful man Philippe de Clermont valued—a soldier, a sailor, a privateer, and a man of influence in British government. And so Philippe gave him command of the Knights of Lazarus in England, one of the eight provincial masters who reported directly to Philippe.

As Diana Roydon learned almost immediately, Raleigh appreciated strong, beautiful women. He fell in love with one of Queen Elizabeth’s favorite maids, Elizabeth “Bess” Throckmorton, a trusted gentlewoman of the Queen’s Privy Chamber. Bess became pregnant, and Raleigh married her secretly in 1591, without the queen’s permission. When the queen eventually learned of Bess’s pregnancy, she was enraged by what she saw as betrayal by two of her court favorites. Elizabeth confronted Raleigh, and in a desperate and futile attempt to curry favor he denied being the father. When the truth of their marriage was finally confirmed, the queen banished the pair from court, and they refused, stubbornly, to ask for her forgiveness. They remained out of favor for five years but continued to be devoted to each other. They had three sons, though their first died in infancy during a plague epidemic.

After the queen’s death, King James imprisoned Raleigh in the tower, twice: first on charges of treason, which were eventually dismissed, and the second time for crimes committed by soldiers under his command while in the Spanish colonies of South America. He was executed for the latter in 1618 and was survived by his wife, Bess, who fought to clear his name.

See also: Bess Throckmorton; LITERATURE: The Lie

CHRISTOPHER ROBERTS

Origin of name: Roberts is of Norman origin, meaning “bright fame.”

Date of birth: November 7, 1974

Astrological sign: Scorpio

Physical description: Dark brown eyes, walnut-colored skin, high cheekbones angled under straight brows, a deep voice, and a wrestler’s strong build

A member of: Yale University faculty, Department of Biochemistry and Molecular Biology

Family and romantic relationships: From an African American family in Alabama. Chris is not married.

Personal history: Christopher Roberts is Diana’s closest friend and her colleague at Yale University, where they met when they both began teaching there. Chris recognizes that Diana is different from most people he knows, so he’s not shocked to learn that she’s a witch, nor that vampires, daemons, and magic are real. His training as a scientist taught him to look for evidence and to entertain possibilities, rather than rely on prevailing opinions about the state of the world. A loyal friend, Chris remains fiercely protective of Diana and feels a kinship with her because of her difference.

Chris grew up in Alabama, an African American who comes from, in his words, “a long line of field hands” as well as a Cherokee grandmother. He is a realist and seems to enjoy disabusing others, including vampires, of their romantic notions about the world. As a black man in America, Chris has no illusions about the effects of racism or the ends to which some people will go to preserve power. He recognizes almost immediately that the Congregation’s covenant is a mechanism to preserve segregation between creatures and promote racial purity by preventing witches from giving birth to babies fathered by vampires.

Chris is a proud graduate of Harvard University, where he studied molecular biology. He is a gifted scientist and researcher—a genius—and, indeed, he received a MacArthur Fellowship. This is given only to individuals whose achievements demonstrate exceptional creativity and who are on the precipice of great discovery or a game-changing idea. Following this award, Chris was swiftly granted tenure at Yale.

Despite his genius Chris has a terrible memory for names and therefore presides over a lab full of students he’s nicknamed as characters from prime-time television shows of the past thirty years. They are currently collaborating with Dr. Matthew Clairmont as well as his colleagues Dr. Miriam Shephard and Dr. Marcus Whitmore on a project to unravel the mysteries of creature DNA. Their findings thus far support the MacArthur Foundation’s judgment that Dr. Roberts was on the precipice of a great discovery.

SIGNORINA ROSSI

Signorina Rossi was an Italian woman of Malá Strana whom Diana met and gossiped with in Prague. Rossi had spent time before in London, where she’d been mistress to an Italian artist. When Diana met her, she was mistress to another Italian artist, a man who wanted to introduce the art of glass cutting to Prague.

MATTHEW ROYDON

Full name and other names: Shadow, Matthew de Clermont, Sebastian St. Clair

Origin of name: Roydon is a locational surname and derived from Old English ryge and dun, meaning “rye hill.”

Date of birth: Unknown

Physical description: There are no attributed portraits or descriptions of Matthew Roydon surviving. A recent discovery in the All Souls world of a Hilliard miniature depicting a mysterious, dark-haired man, has been linked to him, however.

A member of: The School of Night, the Knights of Lazarus

Family and romantic relationships: Historians have not found records of poet Matthew Roydon’s marriage. In Gonçalves MS 4890, an unknown English commonplace book discovered in Spain, a poem about “Diana,” as well as a poesie “for his beloved on the feast of All Souls in the year of our Lord 1590” are both signed by Matthew Roydon.

Personal history: Very little is known about the historical figure of Matthew Roydon, which is why he is so alluring a character. He was the shadow alongside famous men of his time, and his influence can be gleaned only from tantalizing snippets. It is thought he could have been the Matthew Roydon who graduated from Oxford with an M.A. on July 7, 1580. In London in 1593, a “Matthewe Royden” was then recorded to “maketh his abode at the blacke ffryers at A showmakers howse there.”

Known as a poet, Roydon moved in prominent literary circles of the time, a friend to Philip Sidney, Christopher Marlowe, Edmund Spenser, and George Chapman, who dedicated The Shadow of Night to him in 1594. He is mentioned among companions who shared Marlowe’s freethinking and part of the group sometimes known as the School of Night. Roydon’s close friendship with Philip Sidney was celebrated in his Elegie, or Friends Passion, for His Astrophill, which Roydon wrote on Sidney’s death and was often printed alongside Spenser’s work subsequently. There is speculation about other works that could have been by Roydon but are not properly attributed.

Historical evidence suggests Matthew Roydon could have been part of William Cecil’s spy network and was in Prague in 1591, sending news back to England about Edward Kelley. He also went to work for James VI of Scotland. He then disappeared after the death of Christopher Marlowe.

Later in life it appears that Roydon entered the service of literary patron Robert Radcliffe, 5th Earl of Sussex. In a work dedicated to the Earl of Sussex’s daughter, Elizabeth, in 1609, Roydon was described as “a poetical light . . . which shines not in the world as it is wisht, but yet the worth of its lustre is known.” Matthew Roydon’s death has been recorded by some as occurring in 1622, but this date is uncertain.

Diana Bishop had to adjust to her Matthew being this man in the sixteenth century. As he slotted back into his role as Matthew Roydon, poet and spy for Elizabeth I, he took on his old behaviors and ways of thought bred from a very different society to the present day. Diana, however, was never going to slot into the role of a subservient Elizabethan housewife, however imperious his tone became.

When I came up with the idea of a story about a witch in denial of her power and a vampire interested in science, I knew that the vampire at the center of the book would have been a figure associated with the Elizabethan circle of intellectuals some call the School of Night: Matthew Roydon, the mysterious poet and spy to whom George Chapman dedicated his poem The Shadow of Night.

RUDOLF II

Full name and other names: Holy Roman emperor and king of Bohemia, king of Hungary and Croatia

Origin of name: Rudolf is from the Germanic name Hrodulf, derived from the elements hrod, “fame,” and wulf, “wolf.”

Date of birth: July 18, 1552

Astrological sign: Cancer

Physical description: Rudolf was a small man with pale, protruding eyes, a disproportionately long chin, a pronounced underbite, and full, fleshy lips.

A member of: The Order of the Defeated Dragon

Family and romantic relationships: Rudolf was from the House of Hapsburg and the eldest son of Maximilian II. He never married but had several illegitimate children with his mistress, Katharina Strada.

Personal history: Rudolf II was heir to the Hapsburg family throne in Austria, king of Hungary and Croatia, king of Bohemia, and Holy Roman emperor (nominal head of many different Catholic principalities and political entities in central and southern Europe). To groom him for this last title, he was sent to the court of his uncle, Philip II of Spain, where he lived from the age of eleven to nineteen.Philip II was also a Hapsburg, and members of the royal House of Hapsburg occupied the throne of the Holy Roman Empire continuously from 1438 to 1740. When Rudolf returned to Austria, he was criticized for being too Spanish—though his Spanish mother thought he was just perfect.

Rudolf’s distinctive appearance was a legacy of the Hapsburgs, who lived by the axiom that “the best spouse for a Hapsburg is another Hapsburg.” This resulted in characteristics such as the Hapsburg lip or the Hapsburg jaw, known today as mandibular prognathism. Someone with this condition has a jaw that juts out and an abnormally thick lower lip. Rudolf was far from the worst afflicted; the last Spanish Hapsburg could barely make himself understood when he spoke.

Rudolf was less interested in affairs of state than in the natural sciences, astrology, alchemy, and the arts. He attracted some of the best scientific instrument makers of the time to his court—for example, Erasmus Habermel, whom Rudolf commissioned to make an astronomical compendium for Diana. As we know, he patronized the alchemists John Dee and Edward Kelley and was known to perform alchemical experiments in his own private laboratory. He also dabbled in the occult sciences.

Rudolf was not a great political success, but he was a key Renaissance figure for his cultivation of the leading artists of the time. Under his rule Prague became a center of the arts in Europe. In 1588 Rudolf invited the celebrated gem artisan Ottavio Miseroni to Prague to establish a workshop that rivaled those of Miseroni’s native Milan. In the 1580s he hired Bartholomeus Spranger, the most significant Northern Mannerist painter of his generation, as court artist. Rudolf was known to spend hours contemplating his treasures; as he told Diana, “Only vulgar objects can be seen at once, for they have no mysteries to reveal.”

Rudolf’s collection of art and curiosities was famous throughout Europe. Before he and Diana traveled to Prague, Matthew speculated that if Rudolf had the Book of Life, it would be in his cabinet of curiosities—and he turned out to be right. Very few were allowed to see this idiosyncratic collection of shells, fossils, scientific instruments, rhinoceros teeth, leopard’s claws, and erotic paintings; Rudolf’s invitation to Diana was evidence of his besotted state. Rudolf also kept a menagerie of exotic animals that were allowed to roam freely, requiring frequent compensation to the families of their unfortunate victims.

Rudolf was a reserved and secretive man who was prone to melancholy, another Hapsburg trait. Like Elizabeth I, he engaged in diplomatic negotiations for marriage but never actually married. He did have several illegitimate children with his mistress, Katharina Strada, who in fact was pregnant during Matthew and Diana’s trip to Prague. These included Rudolf’s eldest son, the notorious Don Julius Caesar d’Austria, who went slowly mad and eventually killed his lover, dismembering her body.

S

ELEANOR ST. LEGER

The fair Eleanor St. Leger was from a prestigious English family in the ruling elite of Jerusalem after Pope Urban II’s First Crusade. Eleanor met Matthew, who was summoned there by Philippe in 1140, and they fell deeply in love. The St. Leger family clashed politically with the de Clermonts, however, and Matthew’s brothers Hugh, Baldwin, and Godfrey urged him to put her aside. Matthew refused, and in a squabble with Baldwin over the St. Legers and de Clermonts, things got out of hand. Eleanor tried to intervene and was killed by Matthew in a fog of jealousy and blood rage. Before Baldwin and Matthew understood what had happened, Eleanor had lost too much blood and died. Matthew carried his guilt deeply and never felt for anyone what he did for Eleanor until Diana came into his life.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

Full name and other names: William Shakespeare, the Bard of Avon

Origin of name: Shakespeare could be of Old English origin, a nickname for a spearman, or a belligerent, argumentative person.

Date of birth: Traditionally thought of as April 23, 1564 (baptism recorded April 25, 1564)

Astrological sign: Taurus

Physical description: The disputed portraits we have of Shakespeare do not give us a clear picture of what he really looked like, and no descriptions of him from the period have been found. General features gleaned from each are that he probably had dark brown hair, with a receding hairline, and perhaps a stocky stature. He is most often depicted with a closely cropped beard.

A member of: The Lord Chamberlain’s Men, the King’s Men

Family and romantic relationships: Shakespeare was the son of John Shakespeare and Mary Arden and was married to Anne Hathaway, with whom he had three children: Susanna and twins Hamnet and Judith. Shakespeare’s romantic life outside of marriage is hinted at through the Fair Youth and the Dark Lady of his sonnets: “Two loves I have of comfort and despair.”

Personal history: As is the case with so many people of this period, the details of Shakespeare’s life remain murky. This in no way suggests that Shakespeare was not the man who wrote the famous works of literature that established him as one of the greatest writers in the English language, however many theories are put forward to the contrary. It simply means that like Matthew Roydon (and other men and women of the time who were born in ordinary circumstances but went on to live extraordinary lives), his status during his lifetime wasn’t noteworthy enough for particular attention.

Shakespeare’s father, John, was an alderman and a glover; his mother, Mary, came from a landowning farming family. He was the third child of eight and the eldest son. His marriage to twenty-six-year-old Anne Hathaway when he was eighteen is recorded in a marriage license issued on November 27, 1582, and six months later their daughter Susanna was baptized, on May 26, 1583. The twins Hamnet and Judith came two years later, baptized on February 2, 1585. Sadly, Hamnet died at the age of eleven in August 1596.

Only scraps of Shakespeare’s life can be pieced together following his marriage and his entry into the London theater scene. He produced most of his known work between 1589 and 1613 and was an actor and writer for a playing company called the Lord Chamberlain’s Men, later the King’s Men (when it came under the patronage of King James I), who built and performed at the famous Globe Theatre on London’s south bank. Richard Field printed Shakespeare’s early poems in the 1590s, and it is almost certain they knew each other from childhood, their families connected and living in the same area.

There has been constant speculation about Shakespeare’s extramarital love affairs, cobbled together from his sonnets and the people he knew. The young man and Fair Youth of the sonnets has been thought by many to refer to Mary Sidney’s son, William Herbert (with the mysterious dedication of the collection made out to a Mr. W.H.), but arguments point to others, too. And who was the woman who inspired the lusty Dark Lady sonnets? The vampire king of London, Andrew Hubbard, knew her identity and hoped the young witch Annie Undercroft might help cure Shakespeare of his brooding obsession with another man’s wife.

Christopher Marlowe undoubtedly had an influence on Shakespeare, and Marlowe’s work is alluded to in many of his plays. Specialist studies have revealed evidence of their collaboration, with academics seeing Marlowe’s hand in certain passages of Shakespeare’s plays, in particular those featuring demonic spirits. As Matthew revealed, Shakespeare was also the one who coined the phrase “School of Night” that came to describe Marlowe and his mysterious circle of friends. This was a jab at his rival. Shakespeare had no way of knowing he would eclipse Marlowe so fully in the future.

Shakespeare seems to have moved back to Stratford in 1613, where he died three years later, on April 23, 1616. In 1623 the First Folio collection was published, which included all but two of what are now recognized as Shakespeare’s plays. The preface, a poem by Ben Jonson, hailed Shakespeare as “not of an age, but for all time.” Diana observed this tribute was fitting for her Matthew, too.

See also: LITERATURE: Love’s Labour’s Lost

MIRIAM SHEPHARD

Origin of name: Miriam is of Hebrew origin, with various meanings—either “wished-for child” or perhaps “rebellious.”

Date of birth: Unknown

Date of rebirth: Unknown

Physical description: Miriam is around five feet tall, petite and fine-boned. She is strikingly beautiful, with long wavy hair and a dark complexion. Her sense of style is as individual, strong, and clear as the woman herself. Miriam prefers short skirts, cowboy boots, and expressive T-shirts. They suit her diminutive frame and large personality.

A member of: The Conventicle

Family and romantic relationships: Miriam’s husband and mate, Bertrand, tragically died in the eleventh century. She keeps in touch with her last link to her mate, Bertrand’s son Jason. She is godmother to Rebecca Bishop-Clairmont.

Personal history: Miriam Shephard is Matthew de Clermont’s close research colleague and friend. She is an ancient vampire with a shadowed past. In contrast to most vampires, she is honest to a fault and speaks her mind without seeming to fear the consequences. She is ferociously loyal to Matthew without being in the least bit cowed by him or his lofty position within the world of vampires. Unlike many of her kind, Miriam is completely comfortable with what she is: a predator. She makes no apologies for it, proud to have survived in situations that would have felled a lesser creature. Creatures, no matter who they are, need to earn her respect. Once they do, Miriam is an unshakable ally and friend.

Miriam is of North African and Semitic descent and was living in the Holy Land when the Christian Crusaders arrived at the end of the eleventh century. She was already more than a thousand years old but had not yet mated. She fell in love and mated with a French vampire named Bertrand, who was Matthew’s closest friend. After they’d been together for a relatively brief time, Bertrand sacrificed his life to save Matthew and the de Clermonts. Following Eleanor St. Leger’s death, Eleanor’s family demanded justice. Bertrand took the blame to ensure that Matthew, the Knights of Lazarus’s grand master, would not be harmed. Bertrand was beheaded by a Saracen executioner, and before he died, he made Miriam promise to watch over his friend. That Miriam does so to this day, shielding Matthew from harm and watching him like a hawk, is a testament to her loyalty and strength. Miriam has not mated again and can’t seem to find anyone to live up to her deceased husband and mate.

To better watch over Matthew, Miriam has been sharing his work life for the past two hundred years. The holder of several advanced degrees in chemistry and biology, Miriam is an invaluable member of Matthew’s research team. Her probity and command of details are second to none, both assets when working with complicated data sets and contradictory laboratory results. Miriam occupies the important role of Matthew’s laboratory manager, making sure that the team stays on task and that work continues in an organized and timely fashion. She is an exacting taskmistress and a bit of a workaholic. She is one of the rare creatures who tells Matthew the truth, even when she knows he won’t listen to it. When not working, Miriam enjoys solving crossword and Sudoku puzzles and watching film noir. Sometimes, when bored, she gets a kick out of frightening humans by telling them what vampires are really like.

URSULA SHIPTON

Full name and other names: Ursula Southill, Ursula Soothtell, Ursula Sontheil, Mother Ursula, Mother Shipton

Date of birth: c. 1488

Personal history: According to legend, Ursula Sontheil (later Shipton) was an English prophetess who foretold a number of major events, including the defeat of the Spanish Armada. She was also a great weaver, and Goody Alsop was her student. Diana met her descendant, waterwitch Tamsin Soothtell, in present-day London. Tamsin revealed how her family had kept Mother Shipton’s prophecies alive through the centuries, including that of the dragon and serpent, which would mark the advent of a new golden age for creatures.

See also: LITERATURE: Mother Shipton’s Prophesies

LEONARD SHOREDITCH

Leonard Shoreditch is a member of Andrew Hubbard’s flock and part of a gang, including Amen Corner and Jack Blackfriars, who often cause trouble on the streets of London. Like many of Hubbard’s children, Leonard received his surname to denote his place of origin in London.

MARY SIDNEY

Full name and other name: Mary Herbert, Countess of Pembroke

Origin of name: Sidney has origins in an Anglo-Saxon locational name meaning “wide island” or “watermeadow.”

Date of birth: October 27, 1561

Astrological sign: Scorpio

Physical description: Tall and willowy, with creamy skin and deep-set brown eyes. Her likeness can be seen in her portrait (c. 1590) by Nicholas Hilliard.

Family and romantic relationships: Daughter of Sir Henry Sidney and sister to the writer Philip Sidney. Married to Henry Herbert, with whom she had four children.

Personal history: Mary Sidney, Countess of Pembroke, wielded tremendous political and private influence in sixteenth-century London, especially for a woman who was not the queen.

Mary was born into great privilege. Her father, Sir Henry Sidney, was a childhood companion of King Edward VI and a favorite of Queen Elizabeth; her brother, Philip Sidney, was an esteemed writer, and her mother, Mary Dudley Sidney, was a favored member of the queen’s court, a gentlewoman of Queen Elizabeth’s Privy Chamber. Mary received an excellent classical education, as well as training in the domestic arts of needlework and music. When Mary was thirteen, the queen invited her to court and later helped arrange her marriage at fifteen years old to Henry Herbert, the 2nd Earl of Pembroke and twenty-five years her senior. She had four children when she was still quite a young woman and quickly learned to manage her many households, as befitted an Elizabethan woman of her standing.

Mary Sidney parlayed the advantages of her relations and education into avenues that extended well beyond her home and children, building her reputation as a writer and patron. She famously helped publish her brother’s book Arcadia and other works after his death. And Mary penned and published poems and other writings of her own, which included finishing a project of lyrical poems of the psalms begun by Philip. These she released under her own name, unusual for a woman of her position in this era, and established her literary fame.

Mary is known to have practiced alchemy and had her own laboratory. Diana Roydon spent many happy hours hunting the green lion with her, as well as conducting other, less explosive experiments, while discussing the position of women in society. Though Mary’s Protestant upbringing made her reluctant, initially, to help a pagan witch like Diana, Mary’s keen intelligence took her past their differences. She became an invaluable friend and a critical link in Diana and Matthew’s pursuit of the Book of Life.

See also: DECORATIVE ARTS: Mary Sidney’s Laboratory

LITERATURE: Arcadia

PAVEL SKOVAJSA

Pavel Skovajsa worked as a librarian in the conservation department of the Strahov Library, located in modern-day Prague in the Czech Republic. Employed as a spy for Peter Knox of the Congregation, Pavel was unable to discover anything of interest to his handler for years until he stumbled upon a letter hidden in a copy of De arte cabalistica. The letter, from Rabbi Judah Loew, mentioned the Book of Life and the disposition of its lost pages in the spring of 1591. Knox was secretly overjoyed by this discovery and rewarded Pavel for his efforts by casting a spell that caused the librarian to have a stroke and die.

VILEM SLAVATA

Full name and other names: William Slavata, Count Vilem Slavata of Chlum

Date of birth: December 1, 1572

Astrological sign: Sagittarius

Family and romantic relationships: Son of Adam Slavata, a Protestant administrator of Rudolf II

Personal history: Vilem Slavata was a Czech nobleman from an old Bohemian family who followed in the footsteps of his father and worked at the imperial courts of Rudolf II and Rudolf’s successor, Matthias. Despite being raised a Protestant, Slavata converted to Catholicism in 1597. He later played a role in the fierce religious clashes of Bohemia. In 1618 Protestant Bohemian nobles, rebelling against their new Catholic ruler, Ferdinand, carried out the famous Defenestration of Prague (an event believed to have triggered the Thirty Years’ War in Europe). Slavata, a supporter and representative of Ferdinand, was one of those thrown out of the third-floor window of the Bohemian Chancellory that day. Miraculously, Slavata survived the fall, though he was severely injured. He escaped and went on to live until 1652.

Sent as ambassador to Elizabeth’s court at a mere nineteen years of age in 1590, Slavata was nonplussed when Elizabeth thanked him for her supposed gift from Rudolf. This was the collar bearing the emblem of the Drăculeşti, which Rudolf actually gave to Diana. Matthew calmly reassured the confused ambassador in Czech, “Don’t worry about it. Tell the queen that Rudolf is delighted to give her this jewel. Then we can have dinner.”

MASTER SLEFORD

Full name: Roland Sleford

Date of birth: Unknown

Personal history: The city of London appointed Master Roland Sleford to his post at Bedlam in 1579. The former cloth maker was charged with watching over the poor souls housed in the hospital, including numerous suffering daemons, witches, and even a vampire, as well as various lunatics and debtors. As Bedlam’s manager, Sleford was either heartless or greedy or both, for under his lax administration the walls, windows, and roof of the former Hospital of St. Mary of Bethlehem crumbled and fell in until the building was declared unfit for habitation by any creature. It continued to be used as an asylum until a new building was constructed between 1675 and 1676.

MASTER SOMERS

A gray-haired man in his seventies, Master Somers was a glover in sixteenth-century Woodstock who worked for Master Iffley. Like his employer, he was fearful of Matthew Roydon and his household, as well as his wife, with her strange manners.

OTTAVIO STRADA

Date of birth: 1550

Physical description: Slender, with an olive complexion and dark hair

Family and romantic relationships: Father of Rudolf II’s mistress, Katharina Strada

Personal history: Ottavio Strada was Rudolf II’s imperial librarian and historian. Diana and Matthew Roydon encountered him at Rudolf’s palace, and Matthew believed it was Strada who engineered the theft of the Book of Life from Dr. Dee’s library, using Edward Kelley as his instrument. A painting of Ottavio Strada, attributed to Tintoretto’s daughter, Marietta Robusti, depicts him accepting a stream of coins while holding a small statue of a naked woman, his finger tucked between her legs. It currently hangs in the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam.

CATHERINE STREETER

Catherine Streeter was a witch in sixteenth-century London and a member of the St. James Garlickhythe gathering. Handsome but unmemorable to the nonmagical eye, she was surrounded by a nimbus of light that Diana could see. She was the offspring of two firewitches, which is highly unusual. As Goody Alsop said, “It happens rarely, as though nature herself knows that such a light cannot be hidden.” Her role was to help Diana manage her elemental powers of fire.

T

TABITHA

Sarah Bishop’s skittish cat is gray and almost as troublesome as Corra. She has an uncanny knack of picking up any tension in the Bishop household. She’s particularly fond of Matthew.

PHOEBE TAYLOR

Origin of name: The name Phoebe is of Greek origin, from phoibos meaning “bright” or “pure.” In mythology Phoebe was a Titan associated with the moon and related to Artemis, goddess of the moon and hunting.

Date of birth: May 17, 1985

Astrological sign: Taurus

Physical description: Phoebe is young and beautiful, with olive eyes.

Family and romantic relationships: Phoebe Taylor is from a very proper English family. She is Marcus Whitmore’s fiancée and mate, and godmother to Philip Bishop-Clairmont.

Personal history: Phoebe is the well-brought-up daughter of an English diplomat. She was a junior employee at Sotheby’s when she met one of their important de Clermont clients, Marcus Whitmore. At first she was not impressed by his rakish advances, but his charm soon won her over. When he introduced her to the world of witches, daemons, and vampires, she took it in stride and managed being thrown into the de Clermont family politics with the diplomacy and skill she’d been taught from a young age. Her gentle manners hide a steely determination, which shows in her mediation between Marcus and his father.

An expert in the history of art, Phoebe is continually amazed by the contents of the de Clermont family houses, where objects that should be behind glass in a museum are used casually day to day. The Holbein in the loo at the Old Lodge is just the tip of the iceberg. Baldwin has come to appreciate Phoebe’s knowledge in this area and how it might be used to the family’s benefit. After resigning from her position at Sotheby’s, she is focusing on cataloging and curating the de Clermont treasures. She was also an invaluable research companion for Diana when tracking down the Book of Life’s missing pages.

Marcus and Phoebe’s engagement was not a surprise to the de Clermonts, who can see how devoted they are to each other. Phoebe’s wish to become a full vampire mate to Marcus, however, causes conflict. Matthew is against it, perhaps because of his own complicated feelings toward his warmblooded mate, Diana. With the dangers of Marcus being a blood-rage carrier, there is also the question of who will give Phoebe the blood she’ll need to become a vampire.

TEREZA

Tereza was a housekeeper in Sporrengasse, Prague. Along with Karolina, the cook, she is from a clan of Bohemian vampires who served the aristocracy, as well as important visitors. Her family promises to serve with secrecy and loyalty.

THOMAS

A young servant at Sept-Tours who, along with Étienne, looked after Diana while she was there in 1590.

BESS THROCKMORTON

Full name and other names: Elizabeth Throckmorton, Elizabeth Raleigh

Origin of name: Throckmorton is an Old English habitational name (from Throckmorton in Worcestershire).

Date of birth: April 16, 1565

Astrological sign: Aries

Physical description: Attractive and golden-haired, with lively, intelligent eyes

A member of: The Queen’s Privy Chamber

Family and romantic relationships: Bess was the daughter of the royal diplomat Sir Nicholas Throckmorton and his wife, Anne Throckmorton (née Carew). She was lover and wife to Sir Walter Raleigh.

Personal history: Bess and her brother, Arthur, were courtiers to Queen Elizabeth I, and Bess later became Gentlewoman of the Privy Chamber to the queen. An intelligent, educated, and beautiful woman, Bess caught the attention of Sir Walter Raleigh, who was around eleven years her senior, and they fell in love. The couple married in secret in the autumn of 1591, and Bess gave birth to a baby boy in March 1592. The child died in infancy. Elizabeth I found out about the secret marriage and child, and, angry that this union had taken place without royal permission, she placed the couple under house arrest. By June 1592 they were sent to the Tower of London. Raleigh was released in August and Bess in December that same year, and they moved to Sherborne Castle, Raleigh’s estate in Dorset. The queen assumed that the Raleighs would then sue for pardon, but they refused and continued to be cast away from court and out of favor.

Bess and Walter remained committed to each other, although Bess had to shoulder a lot during Raleigh’s frequent absences, either abroad or in prison. The couple had two more sons, Walter and Carew. The latter was christened within the Tower of London during one of Raleigh’s imprisonments.

Raleigh was eventually executed in 1618, and Bess worked tirelessly to vindicate his name after his death, finally achieving its restoration in the Bill of Restitution and allowing her one surviving son to inherit.

Witnesses recorded that following the execution, Lady Raleigh left with Raleigh’s head in a red bag.

See also: Walter Raleigh

ELIZABETH TUDOR, QUEEN OF ENGLAND

Other names: Good Queen Bess, the Virgin Queen, Gloriana

Origin of name: Elizabeth is of Greek and Hebrew origin, meaning either “God is abundance” or “my God is an oath.”

Date of birth: September 7, 1533 (around 3:00 p.m.)

Astrological sign: Virgo

Physical description: It is difficult to know what a queen looked like in the sixteenth century, even one who is well represented in portraits. Few artists want to paint an unflattering picture, especially of a queen. We can be fairly sure that her hair was originally golden red like her father’s, her eyes brown, her nose ridged or hooked in the middle, and her lips rather thin. According to the Venetian ambassador Giovanni Michiel in 1557, “Her face is comely rather than handsome, but she is tall and well-formed, with good skin, though swarthy; she has fine eyes.”

A member of: The Tudor dynasty

Family and romantic relationships: Daughter of Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn, half sister to Mary Tudor and Edward Tudor

Personal history: Elizabeth I was the daughter of Henry VIII and his second wife, Anne Boleyn. Henry had defied the Church of Rome to put away his first wife, Catherine, and marry Anne so that he could have a male heir—but to his great disappointment, Elizabeth was a girl. Two and a half years and one or two miscarriages later, Anne Boleyn was executed for high treason, making way yet again for a wife who could produce a son. Anne’s marriage to Henry was annulled, and Elizabeth was declared illegitimate and deprived of her place in the royal succession. The impatient Henry married Jane Seymour eleven days after Anne’s execution, and in less than a year and a half Jane produced the much-desired male heir, Edward.

Edward was not the answer to Henry’s fears about the succession, however. The boy was only nine when Henry died in 1547, and he himself died six years later. Edward had officially established the Church of England as a Protestant body, but his successor, Mary I, was a staunch Catholic who immediately began persecuting Protestants for heresy. After Mary died in 1558, the people welcomed Elizabeth with open arms. Though she was a Protestant, Elizabeth understood the political advantages of religious tolerance, famously declaring that she had no desire to “make windows into men’s souls.”

Elizabeth had been reared by various governesses and tutors and was one of the best-educated women of her generation, with knowledge of French, Flemish, Italian, Spanish, Latin, and Greek. No one expected her to remain unmarried as queen, however—this was unheard of, and previous decades had demonstrated the need to establish a clear line of succession. Her ministers were determined to have her make an advantageous alliance with a foreign prince, but Elizabeth successfully evaded marriage for the rest of her long life. How did she do it? Elizabeth Tudor inherited her father’s ego and her mother’s shrewdness and always stayed a step ahead of those who would manage her. She also showed a remarkable talent for avoiding disaster in all its forms—unwise political entanglements, romantic indiscretions, religious controversies, and revolts. One of the reasons for Elizabeth’s survival was her skill at guarding her secrets. Like Matthew Roydon, Elizabeth never gave anything away unless she was forced to or felt that it was in her best interest to do so.

Like most people, Elizabeth Tudor was neither saint nor devil. She was vain, imperious, loyal, learned, quick to anger, and capable of acts of great kindness. Most of all she was a graduate of the school of hard knocks. She once famously said, “If I were turned out of my realm in my petticoat, I would prosper anywhere in Christendom.”

Queen Elizabeth I passed away at Richmond Palace on March 24, 1603. There is a legend that earlier in her life John Dee foretold she would die in her sleep in a palace by the water. When the queen became ill while traveling in the spring of 1603, she tried to avoid her riverside palaces but was forced to stop at Richmond. There she refused to lie down, walking for days and days without speaking. Eventually she collapsed onto cushions arranged on the floor.

At the beginning of her long reign, no one expected Elizabeth Tudor to last more than a handful of years on the throne. By the end of it, few could remember a time when this remarkable woman was not queen. And never again could anyone say that a woman could not rule a country by herself.

My favorite movie set in Elizabethan England is Shakespeare in Love. I never tire of it. My favorite treatment of Elizabeth I’s long life is the BBC/PBS series The Virgin Queen (2005) with Anne-Marie Duff as Elizabeth. It is gloriously accurate, visually stunning, and very moving.

U

ANNIE UNDERCROFT

Origin of name: Annie was named after the undercroft (underground vault or chamber) in which she was found at birth next to her dead mother.

Date of birth: Early July 1576

Astrological sign: Cancer

Physical description: Fair and thin, with pale blue eyes and silver-blond hair

Family and romantic relationships: The witch Susanna Norman’s niece, a member of Father Hubbard’s family, and briefly Diana’s ward

Personal history: In 1590 Annie was a fourteen-year-old witch with a bit of skill and very little power. Diana took her on as a servant after she was sent by Father Hubbard. She worked briefly for William Shakespeare but sadly died of plague in 1593.

V

NICHOLAS VALLIN

Date of birth: c. 1535

Family and romantic relationships: Son of the Flemish clockmaker John Vallin

Personal history: Nicholas Vallin was a French Protestant craftsman who fled to England for religious reasons in the sixteenth century. He took up residence in the parish of St. Ann’s Blackfriars and was a member of the Dutch Church in Austin Friars. He and his father both died in the London plague of 1603. Today he is known mainly for his exquisite clocks. Vallin’s carillon clock, made in 1598, is one of the earliest musical clocks in existence. When you listen to it, remember that you are hearing sounds that people were listening to more than four hundred years ago.

(Listen to it here: www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ao2DXVK7mH8.)

Diana commissioned Vallin to make an elaborate mousetrap and Thomas Harriot’s telescope. The trap was an extravagance that Matthew still teases Diana about, but the telescope is priceless, because it represents incontrovertible proof that Harriot invented the telescope eighteen years before Galileo.

See also: DECORATIVE ARTS: A Silver-Gilt Mousetrap, Telescope

W

TIMOTHY WESTON

Full name: Timothy J. Weston

Origin of name: The name Timothy is of Greek origin, meaning “honored by God.”

Date of birth: February 6, 1979

Astrological sign: Aquarius

Physical description: Timothy’s eyes are mismatched, one blue and one green. He also wore mismatched cowboy boots when Diana met him, one red and one black.

A member of: Church of the Militant Elvis Party

Family and romantic relationships: Son of the eponymous lead drummer of the band Derek and the Derangers and descendant of poet Elizabeth Jane Weston

Personal history: Timothy Weston is a latte-drinking, dachshund-loving daemon with a quirky fashion sense. He was one of the crowd of creatures who gathered in the Bodleian after Diana called up Ashmole 782 for the first time. Fond of walking around with unplugged headphones hanging from his ears, Timothy is more hapless and harmless than threatening. But in typical daemonic fashion, he demonstrated breathtaking prescience when he saluted Diana Bishop at the Bodleian with the offhand pronouncement “You’re the one.” It took Diana a great deal more study and a trip to sixteenth-century England before she fully understood his meaning.

When he’s not taking apart microfilm readers at the Bodleian, Timothy Weston lives at the Manor House in the small English village of Chipping Weston, where he shares his untidy home with a half dozen small and noisy dachshunds, including the speedy but incontinent Puddles. He inherited the house from his grandmother and is in the process of restoring it. Timothy is a sentimental soul who also purchased one of the missing pages of Ashmole 782, the one with the Tree of Life on it. Aided by his daemonic sixth sense, Timothy recognized that the page contained the remains of one of his grandfathers. He entrusted the page to Diana Bishop for safekeeping, thereby supplying the third and last missing page of the Book of Life.

AGATHA WILSON

Origin of name: Agatha is of Greek origin, meaning “good.”

Date of birth: April 8, 1968

Astrological sign: Aries

Physical description: Agatha is in her early forties, small, slender, and beautifully dressed. She pays exquisite attention to her hair, nails, makeup, shoes, and accessories. Agatha doesn’t follow style—she sets it. She has beautiful brown eyes.

A member of: The Congregation

Family and romantic relationships: Mother to daemon Nathaniel Wilson and grandmother to witch Margaret Wilson

Personal history: A member of the Congregation, Agatha Wilson is (for the most part) an unusually focused and effective daemon. She channels her daemonic impulses into fashion and has an international reputation for bold, cutting-edge styles using sharp lines and color. Wilson is a very modern designer, with a fresh and young feel.

On the Congregation, Agatha is an outspoken proponent of daemon rights. She finds vampire and witch superiority out of order in these modern times and has an uncanny awareness of when Gerbert, Baldwin, or Knox is up to something. Like most daemons she is unfailingly honest and can often see the truth in the matter long before anyone else perceives it. In this she is sometimes guided by visions, but because she is a daemon, most creatures ignore her.

She is Australian and has both indigenous and English blood in her veins. Agatha bore a child, Nathaniel, out of wedlock. She now loves being a grandmother to his daughter, Margaret (and is thinking of expanding her fashion line to include layettes).

Agatha adores music and is usually seen in the halls of the Congregation dancing to whatever is playing on her iPhone. Lady Gaga, David Bowie, FUN, P!NK, and Madonna are among her favorite artists. She is not a great fan of the cinema, as she becomes so immersed in the alternative world being presented that she has a tendency to call out to the actors and warn them of impending doom.

MARGARET WILSON

Margaret, Diana Bishop’s goddaughter, is the young daughter of two daemons, Nathaniel Wilson and Sophie Norman. Unlike her parents, however, Margaret is a witch. This curious fact has aroused the interest of some intrusive members of the Congregation, who are eager to examine Margaret in an effort to discover how two daemons gave birth to a witch. She remains under the guard of the Knights of Lazarus, as well as under the adoring and protective eyes of the host of vampires, witches, and daemons who are friends of her parents.

NATHANIEL WILSON

Origin of name: Nathaniel is of Greek and Hebrew origin, meaning “God has given.”

Date of birth: December 10, 1986

Astrological sign: Sagittarius

Physical description: Fair-haired, with chocolate-brown eyes, in his early twenties, fine-featured, tall, and broadly built, like a swimmer. He speaks with a deep voice and has an Australian accent.

A member of: The Conventicle, the Knights of Lazarus

Family and romantic relationships: Married to Sophie Norman, with whom he has a daughter named Margaret Wilson. His mother is daemon Agatha Wilson. His father is unknown.

Personal history: Nathaniel is one of those fortunate daemons who learned what he was at a very young age. He was raised by a single mother, the formidable Agatha Wilson. Because she was able to recognize the signs of Nathaniel’s daemonic brilliance early on, she helped him understand his abilities and differences from the start. Nathaniel is a stubborn young man who chafes under anything he perceives as dictatorial. But he exhibits none of the unbalanced demeanor or broken spirit of those daemons who don’t discover what they are until much later in life.

Nathaniel was born and grew up in Australia, and his mother still maintains a home there. He moved to the States to attend the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and met his wife, Sophie Norman. His marriage to Sophie and the impending birth of their child, a witch, compelled Sophie to seek out Diana and Matthew, and thus they were drawn into the world of Bishops and de Clermonts. Despite a rocky start with Matthew, Nathaniel enjoys a close friendship and a strong working relationship with his more democratic son, Marcus. Their Conventicle is growing in strength, and Nathaniel also now finds himself one of the eight provincial masters in the Knights of Lazarus.

Nathaniel’s daemonic genius manifests through his gift for technology. His computer skills make him indispensable to both the Knights and the de Clermonts. Indeed, he goes to war against their enemies using his laptop.

Despite being an able soldier and a fearless warrior, Nathaniel continues to drive like a little old lady, much to Sophie’s and Marcus’s amusement.

BRIDGET WHITE

Mother of Rebecca Davies, Bridget’s is the first name recorded in the Bishop grimoire. She was great-grandmother of Bridget Bishop of Salem and a witch in sixteenth-century London.

REBECCA WHITE

Rebecca White, daughter of Bridget White, was ten years old, a girl with unruly straw-blond hair, when Diana met her in 1591 London. Because Rebecca looked like Diana when she was young, Diana intuited that she represented the name recorded in the Bishop grimoire: Rebecca Davies (her married name), the grandmother of Bridget Bishop of Salem. Diana had used three objects from the past to bring herself and Matthew to 1590—one of these was a pearl earring that had once belonged to Ysabeau. Knowing that she had to ensure these objects would be available for their time travel from modern-day Madison, Diana gave Ysabeau’s earring to young Rebecca for safekeeping. It was this earring, concealed in one of Bridget Bishop’s poppets, that flew out of the paneling in the Madison house in autumn 2009.

MARCUS WHITMORE

Full name: Marcus Raphael Galen Thomas Chauncey de Clermont

Origin of name: Marcus has ancient Roman roots, possibly connected to the Roman god of war, Mars.

Date of birth: August 9, 1757

Astrological birth sign: Leo

Date of rebirth: October 16, 1781

Astrological rebirth sign: Libra

Physical description: Marcus is nearly six feet tall, with blond hair, blue eyes, and a wide grin. He is the quintessential American boy and dresses in clothes that fit with whatever fashion sense is governing youth culture in a given moment. He is broad-shouldered, long-limbed, and handsome, with a boyish charm.

A member of: The Knights of Lazarus, the Conventicle

Family and romantic relationships: Marcus Whitmore’s birth family is from Hadley, Massachusetts; he is the blood son of Matthew de Clermont and part of the de Clermont clan. He is godfather to Rebecca Bishop-Clairmont. His own vampire children in New Orleans were culled on Philippe de Clermont’s orders, but some of his children (including his son Ransome Fayrweather) remain. He has always been fond of women and has now found his mate, Phoebe Taylor.

Personal history: Marcus Whitmore is a vampire of the Enlightenment. Unlike his father, Matthew Clairmont, or Gerbert d’Aurillac, he believes in honesty, freedom, and equality—even for humans! This puts him somewhat out of step with the vampire elite, of which he is a member. In that context he is a rule breaker, a radical, and a troublemaker.

Marcus came from humble beginnings in a frontier town in western Massachusetts. He was serving as a lowly surgeon’s assistant in the Continental Army when he caught a fever. It would have been fatal, but Matthew offered the dying man the possibility of survival as a vampire. The year was 1781, and Marcus thought he was dreaming when this French soldier attached to the Marquis de Lafayette told him he could go to medical school—something he had never imagined might be possible given his family circumstances.

Though Marcus received the medical-school education he was promised, life as Matthew’s son was not always easy. The hierarchy among the de Clermonts was far more rigid than anything he’d experienced in puritanical Massachusetts, and the family rules were strictly enforced by both Philippe de Clermont, the clan sire, and Marcus’s own vampire father.

Marcus enjoys the popular music of whatever period he is living in. He also enjoys theater, dancing, and the intensely social world of human society, which stands in such stark contrast to clannish vampire culture. When not listening to music or drinking with friends, he also plays games of chance. Marcus’s generosity and belief in the best of other people has landed him in trouble numerous times. He does not always choose his associates, or the humans he decides to make vampires, with an eye to how well they will fit into the de Clermont family. A few decades after he was reborn a vampire, Marcus nearly brought the vampires of New Orleans to ruin with his antics—and this was a city known for antics. He was also unaware of the blood rage he passed on in making his children.

Despite these disasters, Marcus is still a socializer, a rare creator of community in a vampire culture that becomes more isolated and lonely with every passing decade. In this, Marcus reminds many of his grandsire, Philippe de Clermont. By the time Diana met him, Marcus had found meaning in his life as a healer and a scientist. He is gifted in the care and treatment of patients, has been trained by the finest surgeons of the past three centuries, and has worked alongside Matthew in peace and war, on battlefields and in laboratories, as they try to solve the great puzzles of biology and chemistry. Though not as single-minded as Matthew, Marcus is a fine, sensitive doctor and a dedicated researcher. When Matthew made him head of the Knights of Lazarus, Marcus took on the responsibility of his new role with strength and maturity, despite the difficult circumstances.

Marcus has always enjoyed the company of women and has a healthy appetite for the pleasures of the flesh. He was, to his father’s great dismay, a bit of a lad. Marcus would flirt with anything female, and, like his taste in associates, his taste in women is wide-ranging. He’s had relationships with many human and vampire women, including women of other races and religions, older women, younger women, titled women, and common prostitutes. Marcus turned some of them into vampires, though his family cracked down on this tendency to turn lovers into perpetual dependents. The day Marcus met Phoebe Taylor that all changed, and his wandering eye is now firmly set on her. Together they form a strong couple in a family of strong couples, and his desire to make Phoebe his lifelong mate as a vampire is as determined as her desire to become one.

Those characters marked thus

are acknowledged by historians.

Organizations

The Congregation

Prejudice has forced creatures to live in the shadows for a long time, and centuries ago the vampire Philippe de Clermont cast about for ways to combat human chauvinism and bigotry. Toward that end he joined the Christian Crusaders in their voyage to the Holy Land in an attempt to establish a separate creature kingdom there in the eleventh century. Sadly, the resulting conflicts in Western Europe and the eastern Mediterranean, as well as age-old clashes among vampires, witches, and daemons, served only to focus unwanted human attention on the otherworldly creatures. As a result, vampires, witches, and daemons came together in the twelfth century to establish the Congregation, a formal institution founded, at least in part, to ensure the safety of those three species of creatures in an increasingly human—and dangerous—world.

The Congregation persists as an institution to this day. It operated first in Jerusalem, then moved to Constantinople/Istanbul after the Crusaders withdrew from the city. In 1483 Mehmet II forced them to leave Constantinople, and the creatures then retreated to Venice, Italy, where they now occupy an island in the lagoon known as Isola della Stella (the Isle of Stars).

There are nine members of the Congregation: three daemons, three vampires, and three witches. By foundational agreement one of the vampire members is always a de Clermont, and he (or she) presides over the institution’s meetings. Stasia de Clermont, Freyja de Clermont, and Verin de Clermont have each occupied the de Clermont seat for brief periods, usually during times of war when the men in the family were on the battlefield. The customary term for de Clermonts is fifty years, though Philippe was known to take back-to-back terms. Members of the de Clermont family do sometimes give up their seat before their term is fulfilled; Baldwin de Clermont ceded his place to Philippe’s blood-sworn daughter, Diana Bishop, who occupies the de Clermont seat today. All other members of the Congregation are appointed or elected to occupy one of the nine seats by their fellow creatures, and terms and methods of selection vary according to each group’s custom. A seat on the Congregation is not necessarily a lifetime appointment, although some creatures, particularly vampires, may hold their position for hundreds of years. Others, especially witches and daemons, might serve only a few years, and their constituents can remove them if they fail to serve effectively. In addition to the de Clermonts named above, the roster of notable members of the Congregation has included vampires Gerbert d’Aurillac and Domenico Michele; witches Peter Knox, Sidonie von Borcke, and Satu Järvinen, as well as the Bright Born witch Janet Gowdie and Agatha Wilson, a daemon and the mother of Nathaniel Wilson.

A seat on the Congregation confers prestige and political standing upon already powerful creatures. While some Congregation members have behaved honorably and honestly, many others have used their office to shield their own family or have indulged in private and unsanctioned investigations and interventions. Just like human government bureaucracies, the Congregation has been both a blessing and a curse for its body politic.

One of the Congregation’s first acts was to establish a series of restrictions that they called the covenant. This pact, made between all daemons, witches, and vampires of the “past, present, and future,” bound them to abide by rules of conduct that the Congregation argued would keep creatures safe from human attention. Foremost among these rules was a prohibition against creatures mixing together. Many believed that whenever daemons, vampires, and witches gathered, their differences were more noticeable, making them impossible for humans to ignore. This meant that creatures were strongly discouraged from socializing, and the covenant absolutely forbade them to fall in love and intermarry.

In order to police these behaviors worldwide, the nine members of the Congregation relied heavily on assistance from the broader community of creatures, looking to them to inform on neighbors and friends. The Congregation demonstrated a willingness to use whatever means necessary—from official visits and threats to punishments including torture, imprisonment, and assassination—to uphold the covenant and keep creatures apart. The great irony, of course, is that in the name of preserving creatures from human fear, the Congregation has itself posed a danger to their kind.

The terms of the covenant meant that any intermingling between creatures was driven into the shadows. Those few who fell in love or engaged in sexual liaisons risked severe punishment at the hands of the Congregation. Despite this threat, however, several members have been known to have taken other creatures as lovers (such as Gerbert d’Aurillac and Diana Bishop) or were themselves the products of such forbidden unions (Janet Gowdie). There have undoubtedly been other instances throughout the world of attachments between creatures, but they have remained well hidden. Over time the covenant’s prohibition against social commingling was so strongly adopted by most creatures that deep animosities and prejudices sprang up between them. The divisions have become so ingrained that for centuries vampires and witches have avoided each other, and both groups scorn daemons.

In addition to banning social mixing between creatures, the covenant also banned creature participation in human politics or religion. This was an effort to ensure that there were no vampire kings who ruled in perpetuity or wizard popes who used the Vatican as a magical training ground (see GERBERT D’AURILLAC). While the first set of restrictions against social mingling was upheld by most, the second was more regularly honored in the breach. This is particularly true of vampires, who have learned that so long as they work behind the scenes as advisers and stay out of the public eye, they can arrange things pretty much as they like politically. Indeed, those human leaders who have known of the Congregation and the existence of other creatures have also shown a remarkable proclivity for using them for their own political ends.

There seems to have been another, deeply concealed reason for the covenant. Before the Congregation was formed, some creatures knew—and others suspected—that on rare occasions vampires, witches, and daemons could reproduce, creating children of mixed parentage. The idea of powerful and long-lived children whose abilities could vastly outstrip those of more ordinary creatures was particularly threatening to those who had profited from the status quo since the eleventh century. They didn’t want anything to upset the balance of power between creatures. The covenant provided a convenient pretext for the most power-hungry creatures—especially witches and vampires—to forbid intermarriage and encourage self-segregation. Consequently, popular efforts to defy or repeal the covenant have been met with open hostility from members through the years. The movement among creatures to combat the outdated system enforced on them gained strength, however, in the recent formation of the Conventicle. And when Diana finally shook the Congregation to its core with her revelations about the true nature of creatures’ origins, the covenant’s obsolete laws were finally repealed.

See also: LOCATIONS: Isola della Stella

My inspiration for the Congregation came from my desire to imagine extraordinary creatures into our modern world. I reviewed ancient and medieval ideas about the organization and creation of the universe and was struck by how many of them use organizing principles based on the numbers three, four, seven, and nine. Four species of creatures—daemon, human, vampire, and witch—were soon central to the novel. But I was still troubled by the problem of how humans could be surrounded by such beings and not know it. The Congregation was useful in resolving that issue, because it’s an organization dedicated to preserving and protecting daemons, vampires, and witches from the majority of the population—which is human. The fact that there are nine justices on the United States Supreme Court and nine members of the Congregation is not coincidental.

The Conventicle

The formation of the progressive Conventicle in 2009 posed one of the most significant challenges to the authority of the Congregation and the covenant since it was formed nearly a thousand years ago. The name is a nod to the human historical tradition of joining together with other malcontents and dissenters in associations called conventicles in order to protest against their governing authorities. Unsurprisingly perhaps, this Conventicle of rebellious creatures first came together in America among a group who strongly rejected the notion that self-segregation would keep creatures safe.

The composition of the Conventicle mirrored that of the Congregation—three witches, three daemons, and three vampires. Some of the original members were well known to other creatures, like Matthew de Clermont and even Diana Bishop. Others, including the vampires Marcus Whitmore and Miriam Shephard, witches Emily Mather and Sarah Bishop, and daemons Hamish Osborne, Sophie Norman, and Nathaniel Wilson, had led less public lives. The founding members met secretly for the first time in Madison, New York, and for security reasons later moved their base of operations to the de Clermont family home at Sept-Tours in the Auvergne, France. When Diana and Matthew were forced to seek refuge in sixteenth-century London, Marcus took control of the disparate group of creatures gathered there and came into his own as a leader. Even Baldwin de Clermont dropped in at times, playing a dangerous game by serving on the Congregation and feeding information to the Conventicle.

The Conventicle was formed in direct response to the Congregation’s increasingly aggressive and even violent attempts to protect the status quo and the covenant, including the torture and imprisonment of Diana Bishop by Congregation member Satu Järvinen. The Conventicle also sought to protect Ashmole 782 (known variously as the Book of Secrets and the Book of Life). The Conventicle had good reason to fear that its truths about creatures might be lost forever if it fell into the hands of those witches on the Congregation who were intent on using it for their own purposes, or was obtained by power-hungry vampires like Gerbert d’Aurillac. Perhaps most important, all the members of the Conventicle sought to overturn the covenant’s prohibitions against intermarriage and the mixing of creatures. Their shared conviction was that no creature should ever be prohibited from loving another, no matter their differences. As Diana said, “None of us choose whom we love.”

From its humble beginnings in a small farmhouse in upstate New York, the Conventicle has now opened offices in Manhattan, London, Amsterdam, Milan, Rio de Janeiro, and Tokyo, with further expansion planned. The Conventicle has gained the support of witches, vampires, and daemons throughout the world, as many seemed to have personal grievances with the Congregation or objected to the covenant’s restrictions. From its foundation, the Conventicle was at war with the Congregation. Fortunately for them, the Conventicle had the support and financial protection of the shadowy Knights of Lazarus, which helped transform them from mere upstarts into a worthy adversary. Because the Conventicle is still a young organization, and only recently emerged from the shadows, not a great deal is known about its internal workings. However, with the backing of the Knights of Lazarus it has won its first great victory, forcing the Congregation to reevaluate the covenant and repeal its outdated laws. Now they need to ensure that the centuries-old divisions between creatures are broken down in reality, too.

Knights of Lazarus

The Knights of Lazarus of Bethany is a secret chivalric order that was founded during the Crusades. Its origins in the world of All Souls lie in the failure of vampire Philippe de Clermont’s greatest ambition: to create a safe haven for creatures in the Holy Land. Matthew’s vampire son Benjamin helped kill this dream toward the end of the eleventh century by threatening to expose the existence of all creatures to the humans in Jerusalem. As a fallback plan, and around the same time the Congregation was formed to combat unwanted human attention, Philippe founded the Knights of Lazarus, an order of vampire knights. Its purpose now, as then, is to ensure the survival of vampires in a world dominated by humans and to protect those who cannot protect themselves. The name Lazarus was chosen because Lazarus made the journey from life to death and back again, just as vampires must do.

The Knights of Lazarus has the structure of a medieval Catholic military order, consisting of a grand master; a seneschal, the grand master’s second in command; a marshal, the chief military officer; and nine knights, one of whom is not required to fight and sometimes occupies the role of seneschal. Every member of the order swears an oath to defend his or her fellow knights to the death. There are strong similarities between the Knights of Lazarus and other crusading orders, such as the Knights Templar and the Order of the Knights of the Hospital of St. John of Jerusalem (the Hospitallers).

The Knights of Lazarus have a distinguished history in battle, though for the sake of secrecy members often fought under the banners of other Christian orders. Most notably, in 1291, the knights fought in the Siege of Acre. Acre, a city on the eastern coast of the Mediterranean, had been captured from the Muslims by forces of the Third Crusade in 1191. For a century Acre remained the last great Crusader fortress in the Holy Land, but in 1291 Muslim forces attacked the city and prevailed. The crusading movement continued for several more centuries, but the capture of Acre marked the end of further Crusades to the Levant region (in the eastern Mediterranean).

Matthew de Clermont fought in the Siege of Acre as Marshal of the Knights Hospitallers, one of the most prominent Roman Catholic military orders (later known as the Knights of Malta). He distinguished himself by tending to the wounded grand master of the Knights Templar, Guillaume de Beaujeu, until Guillaume died. Matthew then regrouped with several Hospitaller knights and was reported to have been killed in their last desperate stand (though All Souls trilogy readers know he lived to fight another day).

The de Clermonts have always been the heart and soul of the Knights of Lazarus. Philippe de Clermont was its first grand master, and Sept-Tours actually belongs to the Knights of Lazarus, though few would want to dispute Ysabeau’s right to live in it. Matthew de Clermont was given command of the order upon his father’s death in 1944. To ensure the stability of the order while he traveled back into the past, however, Matthew had to relinquish his position. On November 1, 2009, Matthew’s vampire son Marcus was appointed grand master.

Like other medieval chivalric orders, the Knights of Lazarus has several seals, which can be used to close routine correspondence or to command armies. The largest seal shows a building with Lazarus in the entry, bearing the words “militie Lazari a Bethania”—the Knights of Lazarus of Bethany—around the edge. A smaller one, Matthew’s private seal, shows the same building with Lazarus stepping out of a coffin, surrounded by a snake with its tail in its mouth—the ouroboros, the de Clermont family standard. On the reverse a cross divides the seal into four quarters. The upper-right quadrant shows a crescent moon, its horns curved upward like a bowl and a six-pointed star nestled within (the witch Satu branded Diana with this mark). A fleur-de-lis, the traditional symbol of France, sits in the lower left. The curved edge bears the letters MDCl, for “Matthew de Clermont,” along with the words “secretum Lazari”—the secret of Lazarus. A third seal is nearly identical to Matthew’s except that the upper-right quadrant holds only the crescent moon and Philippus inscribed around the border.

Over the centuries the Knights of Lazarus have wielded tremendous power. As Diana discovered from the account books in Matthew’s study, in the sixteenth century alone they provided Mary Tudor’s dowry when she married Philip of Spain, bribed the French to attend the Catholic Church’s Council of Trent, bankrolled the return of Mary Stuart (Queen of Scots) to the Scottish throne, bought cannon for the Battle of Lepanto against the Ottoman Empire, and paid off a large portion of Elizabeth I’s crushing debts.

The Congregation formally dissolved the Knights of Lazarus in the fourteenth century, but this had little influence on their power. Coincidentally, the Knights Templar were also dissolved at that time. Their last grand master, Jacques de Molay, turned over everything he owned to the Knights of Lazarus before being burned at the stake in 1314.

If you ever need to get in touch with the Knights of Lazarus, just dial 917. Philippe chose this number in the early days of the telephone because September 17 is the birthday of his wife, Ysabeau.

See also: DECORATIVE ARTS: Signet ring

I didn’t create the Order of Lazarus; they did exist. We just know very little about them. There’s been much controversy because there is a new order claiming links back to the knights, but they are not (according to the evidence I’ve seen) directly descended from the medieval group. As the least-understood, least-familiar medieval Crusading order, the Knights of Lazarus were irresistible to me.

Knights Templar

The Knights Templar are probably the best-known military order of knights formed during the Middle Ages. The general purpose of these societies was to support the Roman Catholic Church in its quest to gain control of the Holy Land from Muslim forces. The church’s stated goal was to ensure the safe passage of Christians to holy sites, but the wider objective was to bring the Eastern Orthodox Church back under Roman Catholic dominance. The military campaigns to accomplish this, known as the Crusades, took place mainly from about 1100 to 1300.

During the First Crusade, in 1099, Crusaders brutally conquered Muslim and Jewish forces in Jerusalem and established the Kingdom of Jerusalem as a state. The result was that Christians began to make pilgrimages to the Holy Land, although such journeys were dangerous. The city of Jerusalem was relatively safe, but the surrounding Crusader states were full of highwaymen and thieves who preyed on travelers.

About twenty years after the European Crusaders conquered the city, the French knight Hugues de Payens proposed the creation of a monastic order to protect the pilgrims. King Baldwin II of Jerusalem acceded to this request and provided the new order a headquarters in a wing of the royal palace, located in the Al-Aqsa Mosque on the Temple Mount. Since the mosque was believed to sit above the ruins of the Temple of Solomon, the Crusaders referred to it as Solomon’s Temple. The new order took the name Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon (Latin: Pauperes Commilitones Christi Templique Salomonici), which was eventually shortened to the Knights Templar.

The original order consisted only of Hugues de Payens and eight other knights. Soon, however, they found backing in St. Bernard of Clairvaux, the French abbot primarily responsible for establishing the Cistercian Order of monks. (One of the founding Templar knights was a relative.) Through Bernard’s influence at the Council of Troyes around 1129, the Templars were officially blessed by the Roman Catholic Church. And, of course, hidden behind the recorded history of the order’s foundation was the hand of the de Clermonts.

The Templars soon became the ideal of Christian nobility, and their membership grew quickly as the sons of noble families eagerly joined the fight for the Holy Land. They developed a reputation for superior fighting skills, tactics, and tenacity. Templar knights were forbidden to retreat unless they were outnumbered three to one, were ordered by their commander, or if the Templar flag fell—and even then they were supposed to try to regroup with another Christian order. If Templar knights were captured, at least in the early days, it was reported that the Templars would not pay ransom for their return.

Templar members were divided into three main categories: noble knights, non-noble sergeants, and chaplains. The noble knights fought as cavalry, wearing the distinctive white mantle with a red cross, a symbol of martyrdom. Sergeants wore black or brown and in the Crusader states fought alongside the knights. Chaplains administered to the Templars’ spiritual needs. The highest officer was the grand master, who usually served for life (though due to the nature of the work, this could be a fairly short time).

Like other military orders, the Templars had far more noncombatant members than fighting knights. The chief purpose of these members was to support the financial needs of the military campaigns. They soon demonstrated the Templars’ formidability not only on the battlefield but in the Middle Ages equivalent of the boardroom. The Templars had begun as a poor order, but their fortunes changed in 1139 when the pope exempted them from obedience to local laws. This meant that they could cross borders at will, were free from taxation, and were subject only to the authority of the pope. They soon became known for charitable works across Europe.

Though Templar members were sworn to poverty as individuals, as an organization they controlled vast sums. They took in large donations of money and land, including from new members, who were required to relinquish all their worldly goods when they joined. In 1150 the Templars began functioning as a sort of bank for pilgrims traveling to the Holy Land. Before leaving their native country, pilgrims deposited their valuables with a Templar representative. They then received a document recording the value of the deposit, which they could use in the Holy Land to retrieve their funds. This protected the pilgrims from thieves en route. At the height of their power, the Templars owned enormous tracts of land in Europe and the Middle East, their own fleet of ships, and for a short time the entire island of Cyprus.

In the middle of the twelfth century, the crusading armies began to fail militarily in the Holy Land, and Jerusalem was recaptured by Muslim forces in 1187. The Templars retreated to the city of Acre, which the Crusaders held until they were again defeated by the Muslims in 1291; the Templars had to reestablish headquarters at Cyprus. Modern historians consider the Fall of Acre to be the end of the age of the Crusades, though campaigns continued until the end of the fifteenth century.

With their primary mission of protecting the Holy Land negated, the Templars no longer had a clear purpose. Their desire to form their own state in southeastern France, along with their extreme wealth, tax-free status, and large standing army, were deeply unsettling to King Philip of France. Philip himself was in debt to the Templars and resented their independent power. In 1307 scores of French Templars were arrested, tortured, and later put to death for alleged heretical acts. Hugh de Clermont, Matthew’s beloved older brother, was one of those executed. In 1312 Pope Clement V officially dissolved the order.

Many of its members were absorbed into other military orders, but what became of the Templars’ vast wealth? Theories abound, but readers of the All Souls trilogy know the answer: A year before the last grand master, Jacques de Molay, was burned at the stake in 1314, he turned over the Templars’ assets to the Knights of Lazarus.

See also:

ORGANIZATIONS: Knights of Lazarus, A Discovery of Witches outtake

LOCATIONS: The Inns of Court/Temple Church

Order of the Broome

One of Philippe de Clermont’s generous wedding gifts to Diana was a chain of gold set with yellow diamonds and sapphires, the diamonds fashioned as yellow buds that reminded Diana of freesia. These in fact represented Planta genista, or broom, which was adopted by the Angevin kings of England as one of their emblems. This began in the twelfth century with Geoffrey of Anjou, whose sobriquet of “Plantagenet” supposedly came from the sprig of broom he wore. His son, who went on to become King Henry II of England in 1154, adopted his father’s personal symbol, and it continued to be used by his successors. It is believed this is where the family’s name of Plantagenet originated from, although it wasn’t until the later fifteenth century that Richard of York took up the surname for his family (during the turmoil of the Wars of the Roses). It was then applied retroactively to Geoffrey and his descendants. This name is now in common usage and conjures the powerful dynasty who ruled England for just over three hundred years, before finally succumbing to the age of the Tudors.

The Order of the Broome originated in France and was founded in the 1230s by the French king Louis IX (known as Louis the Saint) to commemorate his marriage to Margaret of Provence (and her coronation). Referred to as both the Order of the Broome-floure and Order of the Broom-cod, its motto was Exaltat Humilis (It exalts the humble), and the collar consisted of broom-cods or broom-flowers, with fleurs-de-lis and a cross. At her wedding, Philippe suggested Diana replace the cross on her collar with the arrowhead he gave her as part of her dowry.

Unlike other, more prominent orders, this one has no record of formal statutes. It was perhaps more of a private order, and Louis’s successors Charles V and Charles VI merely granted the livery collar to men in their realm as a sign of fealty. Charles VI also sent one of these collars to King Richard II of England in the 1390s, and Richard is depicted wearing it in a painting from the period.

While holding the beautiful and unusual chain herself, Diana could enjoy imagining which of the famous royal figures had worn it before they passed it on to Philippe.

See also: DECORATIVE ARTS: Necklace with Emblems of the Order of the Broom/Angevins

Order of St. Michael

Immensi tremor oceani (the tremor of the immense ocean). This motto, whispered by Matthew as he and Diana sailed the dangerous waters up to the island of Mont Saint-Michel, belongs to the French Order of St. Michael. King Louis XI of France announced its foundation at a tournament in honor of Louis’s younger brother on August 1, 1469. Named after the patron saint of Mont Saint-Michel, Archangel Michael, historians believe it was created by the French king to rival the prestigious Order of the Golden Fleece founded by Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy.

It had been some time since the Crusades had made chivalric orders of knights fashionable, and the powerful ruling families in Europe were still creating them to bestow rewards and favors, binding their knights ever more closely to them. Louis knew that the founding of this order would be an effective way of wielding control more directly over the French noble families on whose loyalty he depended. And in turn he undertook to guarantee the members “competent and reasonable pensions, . . . to prefer them before all others in honors, offices and charges and to increase, augment, and remunerate them duly and liberally according to their merits and services.”

The order originally had up to thirty-five members, or “companions” as they were called (shown surrounding the king in the illustration from the title page of the order’s statutes). These ranged from close relatives of the king, including his younger brother the Duke of Berry and his cousins the Duke of Anjou and the Duke of Bourbon, to powerful nobles of France. The order’s membership lists later grew to include other European royals, such as the kings of Denmark and Scotland and Edward VI of England. The famous Renaissance prince Cesare Borgia (the figure on whom Machiavelli based The Prince) was also recorded among its companions.

The Order of St. Michael was the highest ranking military order in France up until the Order of the Holy Spirit took precedence just over a hundred years later, and it was an effective way for the cunning Louis XI to confirm the allegiance of his allies at a time of complicated politics in his kingdom.

Those honored with membership in the order were given a badge, a golden medallion featuring an image of the saint standing on a rock (Mont Saint-Michel) and in combat with the serpent. The order’s motto is said to be derived from the idea of Archangel Michael looking out over the Atlantic Ocean from Mont Saint-Michel. The medallion was traditionally hung from a gold collar composed of knotted links and scallop shells (the same scallop symbol as the pilgrim badge for Santiago de Compostela) or later from a black ribbon. Jean Fouquet, a famous illuminator of the time, was also commissioned to paint the title miniature (seen here) for the order’s statutes.

In the founding statute, the order was required to assemble yearly, on September 29, the feast day of its patron saint, but it doesn’t seem this regulation was observed. While the location first linked to the order was Mont Saint-Michel, the tricky tides made this island a difficult and unrealistic place for the knights to meet (as Diana and Matthew experienced), and so Charles VIII later transferred the chapel of Saint-Michel-du-Palais into the order’s control in 1496. Sources record the meeting place moved in 1555 to the royal Château de Vincennes outside Paris.

Charles IX increased the number of members from thirty-five to fifty in 1565, a time when the French Wars of Religion were causing dangerous rifts and loyal allies were essential. By the time of Protestant king Henry III, in 1574 (following the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre in 1572), it is believed there might have been up to seven hundred knights in the order.

With membership now so extensive and the order no longer regularly convened by the sovereign, the order’s prestige inevitably diminished. In 1578 Henri III reformed the system of chivalric honors by founding the Order of the Holy Spirit alongside the Order of St. Michael. The new order took precedence and was awarded only to high nobles and foreign royalty, while the Order of St. Michael was now granted to lesser nobles and servants to the crown, with the maximum number of members formally extended to one hundred.

The nature of the order gradually evolved further over the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries to one that rewarded artists, doctors, architects, and a wide variety of civil servants for their service to the Crown, rather than just military personnel. The order was abolished by Louis XVI in 1790, during the French Revolution, briefly revived again in 1816 with the monarchy’s restoration, and then finally abolished for good by the French government in 1830. The last member of the order died in 1850.

See also: LOCATIONS: Mont Saint-Michel

Order of the Defeated Dragon and the Drăculeşti

The Order of the Defeated Dragon (or Societas Draconistarum, the Society of the Dragonists) was an order of knights that existed in the fifteenth century. Its striking emblem is featured on a necklace Rudolf II gave Diana. Founded in 1408 by Sigismund von Luxemburg, king of Hungary (who later became the Holy Roman emperor), and his wife, Barbara of Celje, it was created to fight the enemies of Christianity and the Ottoman Turks who were expanding into Eastern Europe.

Sigismund, or King Zsigmond as he was known in Hungary, had a long but troubled reign. His claim to the throne originally came through his first wife, Maria, daughter and heir of King Lajos the Great, upon whose death Maria was crowned queen of Hungary. Sigismund forced an unwilling Maria to honor her previous betrothal to him, and after their marriage he was finally elected by Hungarian magnates to share her crown. When Maria died childless in 1395, Sigismund’s authority was on even shakier ground. And after embarking on a failed crusade against the Turks in 1396, he found himself forced into exile, with a host of domestic enemies working against him in Hungary. Sigismund finally made a triumphant return to Hungary after maneuvering powerful noble families behind him, including Hermann II of Celje, whose daughter Barbara he married to seal their alliance. Thus, in 1408 the founding of the Order of the Defeated Dragon was a recognition of Sigismund’s victorious network (with whom in reality he now shared power).

Members of the order had to swear loyalty to the king and queen and their future sons, in return for which they would receive protection, favors, and honors. Like the French king’s Order of St. Michael, the establishment of the Order of the Defeated Dragon was an effective way for Sigismund to confirm the allegiance of his powerful allies and help stabilize his kingdom. Within the wider tradition of Crusader knightly orders, however, it was equally focused on conquering the Ottoman armies. Only a copy of the order’s original statute survives, made in 1707, and it calls for members to crush “those envious of the Cross of Christ, and of our kingdoms, and of his holy and saving religion of faith.” The order was also undoubtedly inspired by the earlier Order of St. George from 1326, with St. George its patron saint and his cross featured on the emblem.

As Diana described, the emblem for the Order of the Defeated Dragon wasn’t exactly an ouroboros, because it had feet, but “looked more like a lizard or a salamander than a snake. A bloody red cross emerged from the lizard’s flayed back,” and “the tail was not held in the creature’s mouth but wrapped around the lizard’s throat, strangling it.” No original insignia of the order is known to have survived, but there are many references to it in art and writing, and the edict of 1408 describes the two emblems to be worn by the members:

the sign or effigy of the Dragon incurved into the form of a circle, its tail winding around its neck, divided through the middle of its back along its length from the top of its head right to the tip of its tail, with blood forming a red cross flowing out into the interior of the cleft by a white crack, untouched by blood, just as and in the same way that those who fight under the banner of the glorious martyr St. George are accustomed to bear a red cross on a white field.

The members of the order, referred to in the statute as “barons” and also known as “Draconists,” originally numbered twenty-one. As membership expanded after the initial foundation, two tiers developed in the order. Those in the higher level wore both the dragon and the cross, and members of the second level wore only the symbol of the dragon. Following Sigismund’s death in 1437, the status of the order faltered, and while many Hungarian nobles continued to use the insignia, including the Báthory family (and especially those knights still involved in fighting the Ottomans), it faded as a functioning institution.

The King Vladislaus whom Rudolf II mentioned to Diana was Vladislaus II, king of Bohemia and later king of Hungary and Croatia (as Ladislaus VI) from 1490 until his death in 1516. He was a member of the Order of the Defeated Dragon, and his insignia was passed down to his daughter, Anna of Bohemia, through to his great-grandson Holy Roman Emperor Rudolf II, who then presented it to Diana in Prague.

The most famous members of the Order of the Defeated Dragon were undoubtedly the notorious Drăculeşti. In the All Souls world, they are deadly enemies of the de Clermonts and the Knights of Lazarus, whose more open-minded politics clashed with their own. They were also one of two major dynasties in Wallachia (now in modern Romania) in constant feuds for the throne from the fourteenth to the sixteenth century. The line began with clan leader Vlad II, Duke of Wallachia. Vlad was granted the surname Dracul, “the Dragon,” upon his induction into the Order of the Defeated Dragon in 1431, and this was adopted by the family going forward. His son, Vlad III, Țepeș or “the Impaler,” of infamous Dracula legend, was also a member of the order and known for his fierce victories against the Ottomans. Vlad III is thought to have died brutally at the end of 1476, at the hands of either the Turks or his own men, but the circumstances are hazy. Antonio Bonifinius, as well as a Turkish chronicler, describes how he was decapitated and his head displayed on a spike in Constantinople. But Gallowglass assured Diana that in fact he saw Baldwin rip Vlad’s head off and bury it thirty miles away from his body.

See also:

CREATURES: Vampires

CHARACTERS: Rudolf II

DECORATIVE ARTS: Decorative Chain with Dragon Pendant

Oxford University

The ancient university of Oxford, with its dreaming spires, Gothic architecture, medieval passageways, and revered traditions, is the ideal setting for a historian witch to meet a fifteen-hundred-year-old vampire geneticist.

There is no specific date for Oxford’s founding, but there are records of teaching existing in some form there in 1096. Following Henry II’s ban on English students attending the University of Paris in 1167, this evolved rapidly. By 1201 the scholars were headed by a magister scolarum Oxonie, with the title of chancellor conferred on him in 1214, and in 1231 the masters were recognized as a universitas (or corporation). The university was granted a royal charter in 1248, under King Henry III.

There has been rivalry, sometimes violent, between the townspeople and scholars since the university’s earliest incarnation. Friction and riots during the thirteenth century, with students living all over the city, led to the establishment of medieval halls of residence. These were largely monastic institutions and were gradually taken over by the colleges. Later, they were dissolved during Henry VIII’s Reformation in the sixteenth century due to their association with the Catholic Church. St. Edmund Hall, now a college, is the last surviving hall that links continuously back to these early establishments. Merton, University, and Balliol were the first official colleges, founded between 1249 and 1264, and as others followed, Oxford quickly flourished. Within a hundred years, it was recognized as a key center of scholarship, revered by powerful voices in Europe and praised by Edward III of England in 1355 for its contribution to learning.

The university has continued evolving and adapting over the centuries, through political and religious upheaval as well as social and scientific revolution. Halls were finally established for women from 1878, and the male colleges began to admit women starting in the 1970s. Today there are thirty-eight colleges, all self-governing organizations within the university and all admitting both men and women, including Diana’s New College and Matthew’s All Souls College.

Bodleian Library and Duke Humfrey’s

I drew the library’s familiar air into my lungs and shut my eyes, hoping that would bring clarity. The Bodleian had always been a sanctuary to me, a place unassociated with the Bishops.

The Bodleian Library is one of the world’s greatest treasures. You don’t need to be a witch to feel the magic and history in its atmospheric buildings and reading rooms, unlocking the past, as Diana does, through its vast collection of books and manuscripts.

The Bodleian, also known as Bodley or the Bod, was refounded as Oxford University’s central library by Sir Thomas Bodley and officially opened on November 8, 1602. Bodley, born in 1545, spent much of his childhood in Europe, escaping the persecution of Protestants in England under Queen Mary. When he and his family eventually returned, he studied at Oxford and was accepted as a fellow of Merton College. He went on to work as a diplomat at Queen Elizabeth I’s court and married a wealthy widow. After retiring from royal service Bodley turned his attention back to Oxford and decided that he would “set up my staff at the library door in Oxon; being thoroughly persuaded, that in my solitude, and surcease from the Commonwealth affairs, I could not busy myself to better purpose, than by reducing that place (which then in every part lay ruined and in waste) to the public use of students.”*

The university’s first known central library was founded in the early fourteenth century, a small hoard of books housed in the University Church of St. Mary the Virgin on the High Street. As this collection expanded, a new, bigger library, called Duke Humfrey’s, was built (completed in 1488) above the Divinity School. Named after Humphrey of Lancaster, the 1st Duke of Gloucester and younger son of Henry IV of England, Duke Humfrey’s was originally built to house the 281 manuscripts he donated to Oxford on his death in 1447. Sadly, only three of Humphrey’s original manuscripts remain in the Bodleian. The library was stripped of books and furniture during the 1550s and lay abandoned until Bodley’s intervention. When you step inside Duke Humfrey’s today, it is easy to understand its reputation as one of the most beautiful university libraries in the world.

Having saved and reestablished the university library, Bodley’s clever innovations in the running of it secured the Bodleian’s growth and high status. He struck a deal with London’s printing guild, the Stationers’ Company, which ensured that a copy of every book published in England and registered at Stationers’ Hall would be deposited at the Bodleian. These were to be securely housed and never circulated to borrowers. Not even King Charles I could convince the librarians to break this rule.

Another tradition that Bodley introduced in 1602 was the Benefactors’ Book. This was displayed prominently in the library so all visitors could see those friends who had generously donated to the Bodleian’s collection. Though Bodley was wealthy, he knew that the ongoing success of the library would rely on the contributions of his contacts and friends. As he hoped, the donations came steadily in, for “every man bethinks himself how by some good book or other he may be written in the scroll of the benefactors.” One such celebrated benefactor, whose statue Diana walked past in the quadrangle every day on her way to the library, was William Herbert, 3rd Earl of Pembroke (chancellor of Oxford University from 1617 to 1630) and beloved son of her friend Mary Sidney.

As the collection grew quickly from generous donations, it was soon clear the Bodleian needed more space. In 1610–12 Bodley financed the first extension to the medieval Duke Humfrey’s library. Soon after Bodley’s death in 1613, work started on the Schools Quadrangle and was largely completed by 1619. Today Duke Humfrey’s consists of the original medieval section in the middle, with the east wing known as the Arts End added in 1612 and the west wing, the Selden End (named after another benefactor, John Selden), added in 1637.

The Bodleian has continued expanding through the centuries to a collection that now numbers more than 12 million items, housed in various locations, boasting an extraordinary array of rare manuscripts and copies of early printed books. With such an extensive collection, it is inevitable that some items could be mixed up or labeled incorrectly, waiting to be called up by an unsuspecting scholar. Ashmole 782 may be one of them.

See also: LITERATURE: Ashmole 782

All Souls College

Matthew Clairmont’s college is, not surprisingly, the most mysterious, elite, and difficult to penetrate of all the Oxford colleges. It is closed to undergraduates, and, uniquely, all those who manage to pass the notoriously challenging entry exam automatically become fellows and full members of its governing body. The “College of the souls of all the faithful departed,” more commonly known as All Souls, was given its foundation charter in 1438 by King Henry VI of England and established by Henry Chichele, archbishop of Canterbury. Like the other colleges, All Souls originally had a clear religious role, with the forty fellows required to take holy orders and attend chapel to pray for those who had died in the Hundred Years’ War, as well as the college’s founders. Those who were admitted had to have studied somewhere else for at least three years previously, with the original statute specifying there were to be twenty-four artist (theology) and sixteen jurist (law) fellows.

Today All Souls is largely a graduate research institution covering a wide range of studies. It accepted its first female fellow in 1981. It did once have a small number of undergraduate members, first admitted during the seventeenth century. But it is recorded that the warden at the time, Richard Hovenden, permitted their entry only to provide fellows with “servientes,” and this practice was abandoned in the nineteenth century.

One of All Souls’ more unusual traditions takes place once every hundred years. The ceremony, which dates back to the establishment of the college, requires the fellows of All Souls to parade around the college grounds with flaming torches, singing a song while hunting down a giant mallard that is said to have flown out of the college’s foundations when it was first being built. The procession is presided over by a fellow dressed as Lord Mallard and led by another fellow holding up a wooden duck tied to a pole. (A dead duck was used in the past.) The last Mallard ceremony was held in 2001, so the next will not take place until 2101. The Mallard song, however, is sung annually at college gaudies (feasts and celebrations).

All Souls is one of the wealthiest Oxford colleges and, as Diana discovered when Matthew took her down into the depths of its wine cellars, holds one of the finest collections of rare vintages in England. The buildings that overlook the High Street show how the medieval college would have looked, but it is the refurbished North Quadrangle that is All Souls’ most striking feature. Designed by Nicholas Hawksmoor in the eighteenth century, the quadrangle includes the Codrington Library (named after benefactor Christopher Codrington), and a grand dormitory of fellows’ rooms running down the eastern side, with Hawksmoor’s Gothic towers majestically facing the Radcliffe Camera Square.

New College

The founder of All Souls, Henry Chichele, was originally a member of Diana’s college. New College was founded in 1379 by William of Wykeham, and called the College of St. Mary of Winchester in Oxford. As there was already another college dedicated to the Virgin Mary (Oriel, where Sir Walter Raleigh studied), it became known as New College—something of a misnomer given it is one of the university’s oldest foundations. William of Wykeham, bishop of Winchester and high chancellor of England, bought land in Oxford, on what had reportedly been the city ditch (and used to bury the dead during the Black Death), and obtained a charter from King Richard II to establish a college there in conjunction with his opening of a school, Winchester College. Wykeham planned that boys from this school would go on to his new Oxford college, and the statutes specified that all fellows had to have studied at Winchester first. Both these institutions were set up for the education of priests, who were in shorter supply after the ravages of the Black Death.

New College adopted William of Wykeham’s motto, “Manners Makyth Man.” As someone who had climbed from a modest rural background to high office in King Edward III’s court, dying in 1404 one of the richest, most influential men in England, Wykeham promoted the idea that status was bestowed not by birth or entitlement but by the way in which a person behaved (fairly radical for the time).

Nineteenth-century reforms in the college swept away most of the old medieval statutes, breaking the monopoly that Wykehamists (Winchester College boys) had always held and widening the areas of study. Women were accepted as undergraduates in 1979. One thing that has remained constant, however, is New College’s choral tradition. Its choir has a reputation as one of the finest in the world and is in demand for recordings and concert appearances on top of its obligations in the college church services.

Another tradition going back to the first foundation of the college is the lord mayor of Oxford’s ceremonious inspection, every three years, of the city wall that backs onto the college’s unique medieval gardens. When Wykeham was granted the land, it was on condition that the college agree to maintain the ancient walls for the defense of the city, and that promise is carefully monitored to this day. The college’s front quadrangle, chapel, dining hall, and cloisters, in which Diana sought refuge after being threatened by Peter Knox, were all built within a few years of the college’s foundation, with additions and refurbishments made throughout the centuries. Some of the stained-glass windows in the impressive chapel were replaced in the eighteenth century, the new ones designed by Sir Joshua Reynolds: the same portraitist who captured Philippe and Ysabeau so strikingly in the painting Unknown Married Couple.

See also:

CHARACTERS: Diana Bishop, Matthew de Clermont

LOCATIONS: Oxford

DECORATIVE ARTS: Paintings

LIFESTYLE: Rowing

Yale University

Yale University was founded in 1701 as the Collegiate School, in what is now the town of Clinton, Connecticut. Its aim was to train ministers and lay leadership for the church. The college moved to Saybrook and Wethersfield, then made its permanent home in New Haven in 1716. When a new building was needed two years later, Cotton Mather, the leading clergyman in New England, convinced the wealthy Elihu Yale to donate a substantial sum for its construction. To show their gratitude, college officials named the building Yale, and later the entire institution became known as Yale College. (Cotton Mather, incidentally, was also well known for his support of the 1692 Salem Witch Trials.)

In 1714 Yale received a donation of about seven hundred books from England, representing the best of the period’s literature, science, philosophy, and theology. Almost overnight Yale had one of the largest book collections in New England.

Over the centuries Yale College expanded its curriculum beyond theology to medicine, biology, behavioral sciences, law, and music, and in 1887 it was renamed Yale University. The evolution of the admissions policy was slower, however. Women were included in some graduate-level programs as early as 1892 but were not admitted as undergraduates until 1969. And Yale professor Chris Roberts would be quick to add that Yale was among the last of the Ivy League schools to eliminate tacit quotas that favored white Protestants from notable families.

Yale was a natural choice for Diana Bishop, who had fallen in love with all things English (including tea!) while doing summer study as an undergraduate at Oxford. After graduation she returned to Oxford to pursue a doctorate in the history of science, focusing on the age when astrology and witch-hunts yielded to Newton and universal laws. She then set her sights on a position at Yale, “the only place that was more English than England.” Besides representing the English influence that she loved and a solid reputation for scholarship, Yale offered the Beinecke Rare Book & Manuscript Library.

Beinecke Library

Much of the Yale campus looks like it was built in the Middle Ages, due to its adoption of the early twentieth-century Collegiate Gothic style. A major exception is the Beinecke Library, designed by modern architect Gordon Bunshaft and completed in 1963. The Beinecke is a six-story rectangle of translucent marble panels that seems to float above four massive piers at the corners. The marble panels provide and also filter natural light so that rare materials can be displayed without damage. Inside this outer structure rises a glass tower that showcases some of the most valuable books and manuscripts in the world.

For the book-loving Diana, the Beinecke is the heart and soul of Yale. “Here, glass-encased books formed the Beinecke’s spinal column, the core of knowledge and ideas around which the collection was built. Rows and rows of rare books were lined up on the shelves, bathed in light. It was a breathtaking sight, one that reminded me of my purpose as a historian: to rediscover the forgotten truths contained in those old, dusty volumes.” Matthew, on the other hand, still thought it looked like an ice-cube tray.

Diana was doubtless drawn to the Beinecke’s Medieval and Renaissance collections, which document the history of human thought from the Byzantine era through 1600. One of their most important items is a rare Ripley scroll. In the fifteenth century, the alchemist Sir George Ripley wrote a treatise on making the philosopher’s stone, and the scrolls illustrate the processes outlined in Ripley’s instructions. The original version (or versions) is lost, but alchemists commissioned copies in the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries. Twenty-three of these are known today; the Beinecke has one example, and the Bodleian has five.

The Beinecke also holds the only copy of the mysterious Voynich manuscript, call number Beinecke Library MS 408. Its vellum has been carbon-dated to the early fifteenth century, but its contents remain mysterious. The Voynich is written in text that remains undeciphered to this day, though amateur and professional cryptographers have worked on the puzzle for centuries. As Beinecke librarian Lucy Meriweather reported, “This damned manuscript is the bane of our existence.”

The Beinecke Library and the Voynich manuscript play a role second only to the Bodleian in Diana’s pursuit of the Book of Life. Diana discovered that in 1591 Edward Kelley removed three of the Book of Life’s pages, damaging its magic, and placed them within the Voynich manuscript. With Lucy’s help Diana tried to locate the missing pages by tracing the Voynich’s provenance. The information that seventeenth-century scholar Athanasius Kircher once possessed it provided a breakthrough, and Diana pored over Kircher’s books. When she found a tree of knowledge similar to one from the Book of Life on the front page of Kircher’s book on magnetism, she asked Phoebe to put out feelers in the art world for a “picture of a tree drawn by Athanasius Kircher.” Phoebe struck gold—Sotheby’s had recently sold such an item. Ysabeau’s connections provided the name of the buyer—“T. J. Weston”—and the power of magic did the rest.

See also:

CHARACTERS: Diana Bishop

LOCATIONS: New Haven

LITERATURE: The Ripley scroll, the Voynich manuscript

A Discovery of Witches Outtake

Matthew and Domenico

She is a prize, Matthew.” Domenico watched over Matthew’s shoulder as the golden-haired witch departed between her guardian vampires. “I can see why you want her. The spirited ones taste best, don’t you agree?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Matthew said, controlling his temper with difficulty.

“Come now, you’ve tasted a witch or two in the past—and human women, too,” Domenico said archly. “Don’t pretend to be so pure. I know you too well.”

Matthew had a sudden image of Domenico hunting Diana and had to remind himself that she was with his mother and Marthe. He stifled the urge to make sure of her safety and focused instead on his desire to throttle the other vampire.

“Domenico, I am rapidly losing patience with you. Deliver the rest of your message and then hide—somewhere very far away from here. Because if I catch the faintest whiff of you around Sept-Tours, I will destroy you.”

It was not an empty threat, and both vampires knew it.

Across the twelve feet that separated them, Domenico Michele and Matthew de Clermont faced each other with the watchful hostility of former friends. They had known each other nearly twelve hundred years, since the time Matthew had restlessly prowled Europe looking for ways to occupy himself. The worst of his newborn hunger and anger had passed by the ninth century, and Ysabeau had taught him to read. That simple gift had been his mind’s salvation. But his body could find release only in hard physical activity.

For vampires the two most satisfying forms of physical activity were hunting and war. Both involved strategy and strength and were therefore useful in curbing potentially destructive behavior. Between the time Matthew drank so thirstily from Ysabeau’s veins and the time he met Domenico, there had been no shortage of war in France. He’d spent years fighting in civil wars, boundary disputes, and then in the endless armed squabbling that followed the death of Charlemagne.

But everywhere Matthew fought in France, he found himself under his father’s critical scrutiny. Philippe de Clermont had been fighting for thousands of years by the time Matthew was reborn, and he was one of the greatest warriors who’d ever lived—making his mark on Greek, Roman, and French legends with every stroke of his sword. Since Roman times Philippe had adopted France as his own, and whether it was his former Roman allies, the Huns, or France’s own avaricious nobility in danger, Matthew’s vampire father was invariably on the front lines. His son found Philippe’s fierce attachment to France perplexing. Matthew had been born there, and even he didn’t feel such a strong sense of connection to the place.

Given his extensive experience on the battlefield and devotion to the cause, it was no wonder that Philippe found little to praise in Matthew’s early, amateurish military efforts. Matthew had the strength, intelligence, and speed to be a formidable warrior, but his heart wasn’t in it. As a human, Matthew had been trained to build fortresses—not lay siege to them. His father was forgiving of his failures and slip-ups at first. As the centuries passed, however, Philippe grew sharper in his criticisms and Matthew increasingly resentful of his father’s high expectations.

At the end of one distressing conversation, Philippe had suggested Matthew find himself another war and a different general.

“Go to sea,” Philippe commanded from his horse as Matthew stood exhausted on the field below, covered in gore. “Fight the Saracens. The Venetians are so desperate for men they will take anyone who can stand upright.”

Matthew had boarded a ship in Venice at the first opportunity. When the sails lifted and they headed into the busy sea-lanes of the Mediterranean, he found that he liked maritime life. He liked the quiet sound of the water on the ship’s hull, the smells of the sea, and even the companionship of the humans on board. It was during a mission to fight the Saracen pirates who were annoying Venetian merchants that Matthew first encountered Domenico Michele.

The vampires had been the only two otherworldly creatures on a ship full of warmbloods who lacked either their intelligence or their strength. Matthew became the de facto leader aboard the vessel, though he was neither the captain nor a high-ranking officer. His fellow sailors avoided him during the day so as not to be disquieted by his white skin that never burned or weathered or to be made to feel inferior when he easily completed a task in minutes that three men might struggle over for an hour. At night, however, they gathered around him like moths to a pale, cold flame, eager to listen to his songs, share his wine, and hear his tales of the French wars.

Domenico was a different story. The humans on ship avoided him at all hours and whispered about his involvement in the disappearance of two deckhands. One of the missing crew, the navigator insisted, had been attacked by the Venetian soldier. He had seen the deckhand bleeding from a wound in his neck and then watched as Domenico threw him overboard.

The sailors quickly drew their own conclusions.

Matthew heard the whispers and had initially been wary of the other vampire. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself, given the close quarters, and two vampires were always harder to ignore than one. Besides, if Domenico was feeding on the crew, Matthew had no wish to associate with him.

But shipboard life offered few amusements, and Domenico shared Matthew’s irreverent sense of humor. Matthew found himself laughing at Domenico’s jokes and pranks, reminded afresh of how difficult it was to be a newly reborn vampire. The Venetian was only a few decades old, full of the lust for blood and revenge that shaped the early life of the reborn. It had to be excruciating, Matthew thought, to be cooped up on a ship full of humans with no way to escape the smell of flesh and blood.

Though he had outgrown his own urges toward vampiric excess, the memories of his more spectacular bouts of youthful, self-destructive behavior were still clear enough for Matthew to listen with sympathy to Domenico’s troubles. Matthew advised the younger vampire how to behave so that he was less likely to devour his shipmates and expose both vampires to the humans who surrounded them. Grateful for the companionship, Domenico began following Matthew around with the devotion of a younger brother. His attentiveness had been flattering at first and, combined with the sailors’ fondness for him, had helped Matthew’s bruised ego recover from his encounters with Philippe.

Domenico’s devotion quickly grew tiresome, however, and began to make Matthew uneasy. Everywhere the older vampire went, he found the Venetian watching him with sharp, dark eyes. Domenico started adopting some of Matthew’s turns of phrase and imitating the way he walked. Domenico called him “brother,” and asked too many questions about Matthew’s family in France.

On a crowded ship pursuing Saracen pirates across the Mediterranean, there had been no way to rid himself of Domenico’s presence. But as soon as they were in port, Matthew had slipped into the shadows and put as much distance as possible between himself and Domenico. Through the centuries he’d succeeded at keeping the vampire at arm’s length. His only failure, until now, was not making sure Louisa stayed clear of Domenico as well.

Now the Venetian was nipping at his heels in his own house, and Matthew was determined not to make that same mistake with Diana.

Watching as Matthew’s coolness gave way to impatience and contempt, Domenico felt his irritation mount. He was no longer a fledgling to be ordered around by the likes of Matthew de Clermont. He had been doge of Venice, a seasoned warrior, and he was rich beyond his wildest dreams. He deserved Matthew’s respect—not a hint of which was being shown to him. Not even the witch had given him his due. How dare anyone treat him, a member of the Congregation, in such a fashion?

“I’ve come to make you see reason,” Domenico said severely, dragging his self-importance around him like a cloak.

“You are going to make me see reason?” Matthew said contemptuously. Domenico’s harebrained schemes were notorious.

“You must stop this affair with Diana Bishop or you’ll plunge us all into a war with the witches,” Domenico snapped.

Matthew looked unimpressed. “And what do the esteemed members of the Congregation suggest I do instead?”

“You have three choices. You can make her one of us and rid her of her power.” Domenico’s eyes glittered. “You can leave her to the witches to deal with as they wish. Or you can start this war and turn your back on all your kind forever.”

Matthew snorted. “I cannot believe we are the first creatures to cross these old lines. No one would be ridiculous enough to start a war over the two of us. Go find someone else to frighten, Domenico.”

“The witches are ready to start a war over this, ridiculous or not.” Domenico’s voice grew thoughtful. “Perhaps you aren’t the first to have broken the covenant, but you are the first to make anyone want to enforce it. I wonder why?”

The French vampire exhaled slowly, his nostrils flaring as if to rid him of a noxious scent. Domenico was getting too close to what Matthew himself suspected. If the Venetian arrived at the answer to his question, it would lead him straight back to Diana—and that was something Matthew could not allow.

Domenico’s tone was now wheedling. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on? I’d love to know.”

“What, have your talents for eavesdropping failed you?” Domenico had always liked listening at keyholes.

“There’s one thing I know with certainty.” The Venetian’s voice became vicious. “If you start this war, you’ll only end up having to make Diana one of us eventually.”

The muscles in Domenico’s arms stood out in high relief, and Matthew noted his tension with satisfaction—just as he had noted every change in Domenico’s face and bearing since he had lounged against the chestnut tree. Matthew smiled to himself and relaxed a fraction. So long as Domenico was anxious, he’d be too distracted to figure out what Matthew believed was the heart of the mystery.

This was all about Diana and her power.

What troubled Matthew was that he still didn’t understand why her power was of such interest.

“I would never make Diana a vampire.”

“Are you sure? I’ve seen the way you look at her. Other vampires are bound to be curious about what you see in her and cross the line with your witch. One will forget himself, try to taste her, maybe get a bit rough. He won’t mean any harm, you understand, but warmbloods are not as resilient as we are. She’ll be on the edge of death, and it will be up to you to decide. You’re brave, Matthew, but I don’t think you have the stomach to let her die. Given the choice of death or rebirth, you’ll pick rebirth. Why not do it now and get it over with?”

Matthew growled.

“Of course,” the Venetian continued casually, examining the château behind Matthew as if looking for the closest entrance, “if you can’t bear to do it yourself, I’d be happy to lend a hand.” Domenico licked his lips. He had always preferred women’s blood. And for him the blood of women of distinguished lineage, like Diana, was even sweeter, with a taste more subtle and yet more satisfying than any other. Unfortunately, since the deaths of highborn wives and daughters were more difficult to conceal, he was continually plagued by angry husbands, brothers, and sons seeking revenge.

The French vampire’s eyes darkened to pitch. “Be very careful when you speak of Diana, Domenico,” Matthew hissed.

The last time Domenico had received such a warning from Matthew was in Jerusalem, where he had bad-mouthed the French vampire’s spouse in a tavern. “Be very careful before you even think my wife’s name in future,” Matthew had told him, drawing beads of blood from his neck with the tip of his sword. Matthew had been exceedingly angry, Domenico reflected, considering that it was an arranged marriage to a human woman he didn’t particularly like.

The de Clermonts had arrived in Jerusalem with the first Crusaders in 1099, decades before the covenant was sworn. Back then vampires, witches, and daemons had been happy to meddle in human politics. Philippe and his two eldest sons had been crowned kings of Jerusalem in rapid succession. The four de Clermont men founded the secretive military order of the Knights Templar, managed the order’s vast financial resources, and maintained its reputation as the pride of western Christendom. Domenico still couldn’t figure out how the family had accrued so much power and influence in a quarter of a century.

All Domenico had ever wanted—in Jerusalem so many years ago and now at Sept-Tours—was to belong to their charmed circle.

He’d bungled his chance in Jerusalem. He was willing to admit in retrospect that flying to the aid of Matthew and his beloved older brother Hugh had been naïve. In 1122 he’d heard the two were in prison and that the de Clermonts were losing their grip on the city, so he’d commandeered a hundred Venetian ships and sailed to their aid. By the time Domenico arrived, the two vampires had long since escaped captivity.

Even so he’d helped the de Clermont family out of a difficult situation. Jerusalem was under siege, and Domenico’s Venetian ships had clearly played a crucial role in restoring the family’s control. But Matthew, his brothers, and his father held a different view, attributing the turn of fortune to a combination of their own military skill, the resources of the formidable Knights Templar, and (as Hugh de Clermont had bluntly put it) dumb luck.

Their lack of appreciation for his contributions had wounded Domenico so deeply that he’d gone on a two-year rampage, feeding freely off the city’s people and threatening to reveal that not only Jerusalem but also the Templars were ruled by a family of ancient vampires. His bad behavior earned him the undying enmity of the de Clermont clan. To get him out of town, Philippe and Hugh granted him bits of Jerusalem and trade agreements that provided the foundations for Domenico’s current fortune.

Now, centuries later, Domenico was being made to feel once again like a newly reborn vampire. Matthew was no more impressed with his lofty position or his generous offers to intercede with the Congregation than he had been with Domenico’s offers of assistance in the twelfth century.

Domenico changed strategy.

“Just think for a moment about what you’re doing,” he said earnestly. “The covenant has held for nearly nine hundred years. It’s a simple set of promises: no politics, no religion, and no love between witches, daemons, and vampires. Is she really worth breaking the oath you made so many years ago?”

“Autre temps, autres moeurs, Domenico. The covenant was formed in a time when we needed to set limits. The Crusades proved that. Too many creatures were letting personal ambitions rule their actions.” Like you, Matthew thought. “We didn’t require a mutual promise to behave properly before that time. Maybe we no longer need it.”

“As long as there are families like yours that don’t obey rules they expect others to follow, there will always be a need for the covenant and the Congregation. If Hugh had been more reasonable—”

“You were the primary reason for the covenant—not me, and certainly not my brother.” Matthew cut the Venetian off. Matthew avoided the memory of Hugh, whom he had worshipped with the passionate devotion that Domenico had once lavished on Matthew. It was always Hugh who stood up for him with Philippe and gave Matthew the books that he treasured. After dedicating himself selflessly to Jerusalem and the family’s Templar project for centuries, Hugh had been burned at the stake in the fourteenth century by the French king. Matthew swallowed hard around the pain and rage that accompanied any thought of his brother.

“Me?” Domenico snarled. “The de Clermonts brought this on themselves, parading around Jerusalem for so many years and starting that infernal order of knights. Why did your family deserve to control Jerusalem?”

“We didn’t deserve it, Domenico,” Matthew said patiently. He’d tried to explain this to Domenico in 1123 and again in 1313 outside Ferrara when the Venetian had refused to help save the Templars—and Hugh—from pope and king. “The Holy Land was being treated like a playground. Witches were flooding in to stake their claim and join the new order of Knights Hospitallers, the daemons were fighting for the Turks or waiting in Sicily to see which way the wind was blowing, and the vampires were fighting each other for control of territory. My father took the situation in hand and saved the city. Then he and my brothers came up with a better idea to manage Crusader affairs so that entire families weren’t financially ruined. That’s the only reason we created the Templars.”

“I see. The de Clermonts amassed all that wealth and power as a favor to the rest of us? Not so the vampire Templars could fight the witches’ Hospitallers? Not for the money?” Domenico snorted. “Don’t insult my intelligence.”

“Believe what you want, but it was your actions in Jerusalem that made the covenant necessary. The de Clermonts swore to it because we had no choice—your charges of impropriety and fraud against us nearly started a civil war among the city’s creatures. It took my father forty years to extricate our family from the political life of Jerusalem.” And his mother had never recovered from the savagery of the situation. Domenico’s failed attempt to start a civil war in the city had led to outright civil war in the de Clermont family, and Ysabeau had been forced to leave Jerusalem against her will.

“You never extricated yourself from the Templars, though.” Domenico had always wanted to be a member of the order and knew that Matthew had blackballed him. He also knew that the Templars were very good at keeping their secrets. The only thing Domenico lusted after more than the blood of highborn women was their secrets—and those of their families, too.

“It was the family business, for Christ’s sake,” Matthew said furiously. “Did you give up your merchant empire when you swore to uphold the covenant? Have you given the business up since then? Of course not.”

“Where did all the Templar money go, Matthew?” Domenico’s eyes flickered over the outlines of Sept-Tours. “There was enough of it to build more than one castle.”

Matthew’s mouth tightened with distaste. Avarice was another of Domenico’s flaws. “As I recall, Domenico, the king and the pope seized our property and gave it to the witches seven hundred years ago. Ask the Hospitallers where the money is. I don’t have it.”

Domenico hadn’t believed the Templars’ protestations of innocence in the fourteenth century, and he didn’t believe Matthew now. Neither had the witches, nor their present-day descendants within the Hospitallers. And now the de Clermonts had a witch in their possession. It was a dangerous game Matthew was playing.

“The witches are always looking for an excuse to go to war with your family, Matthew. They have been since Jerusalem. And now you’ve given it to them with this madness over Diana Bishop. Just make her one of us and she will be ours to protect. The witches won’t be able to use your romantic indiscretion as a premise for war, and every vampire will support you.”

“She is already mine to protect,” Matthew said coldly. “I don’t need to make her a vampire, and I don’t need your support.”

Domenico bristled. “You are the only creature in the world who thinks she belongs to you. Not even Diana Bishop believes it. And as long as neither you nor the witch herself sees her as a de Clermont, every moment you spend with her puts her in greater danger.”

Matthew’s eyes flickered.

Domenico noted it with satisfaction. Ah, he thought. That’s the way to win this battle. Emphasize that the witch is in danger—from Matthew himself. He decided to tip his hand.

“You cannot keep her with you, kiss her, and sing songs to her in the night without courting war and utter destruction,” Domenico continued. “You know this, brother. I’m not the only vampire on the Congregation. Gerbert has a seat alongside me, and you’ve seen him protect our kind ruthlessly from threats far smaller than the one posed by your dalliance with this witch.”

“Have you and Gerbert been spying on me?” Matthew looked murderous.

“Gerbert has. I’ve been too busy.” Domenico sniffed.

“I’ll make Gerbert apologize for his appalling behavior, then.” Matthew kept his features still, trying not to think what his old neighbor would do to Diana if she came within his power. The prospect was more frightening than his worst fears about Domenico.

“Don’t worry about Gerbert, Matthew. He’s one of us.” Domenico smothered his exasperation. The de Clermonts and Gerbert were always settling old scores—most of which the Venetian didn’t understand. Domenico didn’t like Gerbert d’Aurillac, but at least he was properly cautious around the other vampire. “It’s the witches you need to worry about. The ones on the Congregation are not the superstitious fools they’ve been in the past. These witches have real power, and they’re not afraid to use it.”

“What do the daemons of the Congregation think about all of this?” Matthew inquired quietly. “You’ve told me what you and Gerbert think, and the witches. Are the daemons no longer taken seriously?”

“We’ve never taken them seriously. They’re so unpredictable. You’ve always been fond of daemons, but I wouldn’t pin my hopes on their rallying to your side in this case. Besides, it hardly matters what they think. You couldn’t win a judgment even if all three daemons supported you. The vote would be six to three.”

“I still don’t believe you’ve issued this warning because a vampire kissed a witch.” Matthew ran his fingers through his hair in an exasperated gesture that Domenico had seen before. “You started hunting her the minute she got her hands on that manuscript, and you won’t stop until she gets it back for you. And we all know what will happen then. The witches will destroy her. I will not stand by and let that happen.”

“The only one hunting her now is you,” Domenico said bluntly.

Matthew’s face blazed with anger. But both vampires knew that if de Clermont stopped concentrating on protecting Diana for an instant and let his hunger get the better of him, no one could protect her from his need to possess her.

Domenico watched as the older vampire wrestled with his feelings. It was fascinating to see how strong this witch’s hold was, even on a powerful and ancient vampire like de Clermont. Domenico wondered idly what it would be like to taste her, knowing that the Frenchman wanted her for himself. Louisa de Clermont had been delicious, and he had enjoyed every drop of blood the two had exchanged in their lovemaking and in the fierce fights that both preceded and followed their nights together. Part of the charm of having Louisa, Domenico knew, was taking something that belonged in some small way to Matthew. But Matthew believed that this witch was his entirely. Not only would her blood be sweet, but every drop he consumed would destroy a part of his former friend’s soul. Domenico’s revenge on Matthew would at last be complete.

High overhead a canvas flag snapped in the breeze. Domenico looked up, trying to locate the sound, and saw a black flag with a writhing silver serpent flying from the keep’s main tower. He swore under his breath.

It was only a momentary lapse, but Matthew launched himself with a low roar across the ground that separated them. The force of his body carried his enemy into the trunk of the chestnut tree outside the gate. His fingers closed around Domenico’s face and neck.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing, brother,” Matthew said with bared teeth, “but I have never trusted you or Gerbert, and I don’t mean to start now. You want Diana for some reason that goes well beyond me and her association with the de Clermonts. And I’m going to find out what that is.”

In the nearby village, a bell began to toll.

Domenico had crossed swords with Matthew and with other members of the clannish de Clermont family before, and he recognized what was happening. They were closing ranks around the witch. Even Ysabeau had come like an obedient puppy when Matthew had called her. Now they’d placed the whole damned town on alert.

“You’ve proven my point, haven’t you, de Clermont?” The Venetian fastened his own iron hands around Matthew’s wrists to break his grip. “You’re a hunter—a killer. You don’t think before you react. What if she makes you angry one day? Will you fly at her as quickly as you have at me?”

“No one else makes me quite as angry as you, Domenico.” Matthew pressed his fingers deeper into the Venetian’s neck, twisting his head to the side, and bared his teeth further. “And that was before you had the gall to come here and ask me to keep an oath I was forced to make simply because you behaved like a rabid wolf in Jerusalem.”

“Kill her now, kill her later. But mark me, you will kill her in the end.” Domenico squeezed the words from his constricted throat with effort. “Why add civil war to the burdens already on your conscience?”

Matthew loosened his fingers and stepped away, touching the ampulla under his sweater.

The Venetian resisted the urge to examine the places where the French vampire’s fingers had been. His eyes returned to the black flag flying over the tallest of Sept-Tours’ crenellated towers.

“That would be my mother, warning the village that there is a vampire in the vicinity who cannot be trusted to behave like a civilized creature.” Matthew wiped the back of his hand across his mouth.

“And the lovely Diana is with her, no doubt.”

Matthew ignored the barb. “I will think about what you’ve said, Domenico. You can assure Gerbert that I’ve heard your words and will not act in haste.”

Domenico made an impatient gesture. What did it matter whether Matthew thought about it or not? “You must accept this decree, Matthew. If you don’t, the witches won’t be the only creatures you have to worry about.”

“I don’t follow orders from Gerbert—or from you. The de Clermonts make their own decisions in this world. It’s why we’ve survived so long.”

“Not all of you have survived, of course,” Domenico said savagely. “Your father, for instance.”

“I’ve already warned you to be more careful, Domenico. Stop speaking of my family—and that includes Diana Bishop, the living, and the dead.”

“What does Baldwin think of your new infatuation?” Domenico asked, ignoring Matthew’s challenge. He knew that Philippe de Clermont’s middle son had a particular loathing for witches.

“You’ll have to ask him,” Matthew said through clenched teeth.

“Baldwin doesn’t yet know. I suspected as much.” Domenico shook his finger at Matthew. “You and your secrets. They always catch up with you in the end—and I would love to be here when they do. Who do you think your brother will kill first—you or the witch?”

“Baldwin wouldn’t kill anyone in cold blood.”

“Not even a witch? I’m not as sanguine about that as you seem to be.” Domenico drew a small black phone out of his pocket. “Shall I call him? I have his number.”

“If you like,” Matthew said calmly.

“He’s head of the de Clermont family now, and I don’t imagine he’ll be happy to hear that his youngest brother is on the verge of declaring war on every creature on the planet. I think Baldwin deserves to know, don’t you?”

“Do what you want, Domenico. You always have.” Matthew was itching to get away from the Venetian and his scent.

“Brave words, Matthew. But Baldwin will put you in your place soon enough. You can strut around here like the king of the castle for a few more days perhaps, but we both know who’s really in charge of your family.”

Matthew made another impatient sound. “I don’t answer to Baldwin either. It’s not the twelfth century anymore, Domenico. People don’t behave now as they did then.”

“Vampires do,” Domenico said softly. “And you know it. There’s nowhere on earth you and Diana Bishop will be safe. And Baldwin will be first in line to hunt you down.”

“This interview is over. Go,” Matthew said evenly.

Domenico swept a courtly bow that was both mocking and threatening. When he stood again, he kissed his fingers in the direction of the château. “Tell your witch I’ll be seeing her soon.”

Matthew watched Domenico leave and waited until he could no longer smell the Venetian’s heavy odor of musk and myrrh. When his nose was clear, he looked up at the tower with sharp eyes. Ysabeau and Diana were standing near the wall, locked in conversation. Lord knew what they could be talking about with such intensity. The breeze was blowing in the wrong direction, and he couldn’t hear them.

The sight of Diana made Matthew’s heart give a sudden, painful beat. What was he going to say to her? He couldn’t tell her about the choices before them. Turning her into a vampire was unthinkable, even if it was the simplest option. Diana would no doubt push up her sleeves, roll down her collar, and offer herself to the nearest vampire in an instant if she thought it would end the creatures’ pursuit of her and the book.

But Matthew found the idea of leaving her even more unimaginable. She was all he could think about, and when she was out of his sight, he felt empty and restless. When he was restless, he was dangerous. Time and experience had taught him that. If she wasn’t at his side, Matthew would find it impossible not to stalk her until she was within arm’s reach once more. And then Domenico’s words might become prophetic, and Matthew would hurt her despite his feelings for her.

That left war—war with his mother and Baldwin, with Marthe, and with friends like Hamish. Matthew didn’t care about battling and killing creatures like Gerbert and Domenico. If that was what it took to protect Diana, he would do it willingly. But going to war with his own family was a different matter.

Caught between the witch he could not live without and the family he loved and to whom he owed so much, Matthew ached to hurt something, someone. He drew the badge of St. Lazarus out from underneath his sweater. The only person who deserved his rage was Domenico, and he was long gone. He couldn’t go back inside and face his mother and Diana without a plan.

Turning on his heel, he raced to the stables in a blur. Inside, he rammed his feet into his boots and grabbed Balthasar’s massive bridle before hoisting the horse’s saddle and blanket onto his shoulder.

Balthasar eyed him warily.

“Don’t try my patience today, my friend.” Matthew threw the reins over the horse’s head and snared him. He opened the stall door, and Balthasar stamped in indignation at the rough treatment. Matthew got the bit into his horse’s mouth and flung the blanket and saddle over his back.

Balthasar was unacquainted with war, but he knew instinctively that his master meant business. Uncharacteristically, the horse stood still while Matthew tightened the saddle leathers. When the vampire lifted himself into the saddle, Balthasar didn’t protest but flicked his ears back and forth waiting to be told what to do next.

Matthew kicked him gently, setting off down the center aisle of the stables with a clatter that drew the attention of Dahr and Rakasa, who had hoped to be going out again today.

As horse and rider broke out of the stable and entered the paddock, Matthew bent over Balthasar’s neck, the silver coffin of the pilgrim’s badge swinging gently. “Run,” he growled.

The enormous horse shot toward the paddock fence. Improbably, he lifted his bulk into the air and sailed across the bars. His hooves thundered against the ground as he galloped toward the forest at breakneck speed.

Matthew let loose a roar of frustration when they were out of earshot of the castle, then settled into the saddle.

He would stay astride Balthasar until he figured out what to do about the witch who awaited him back at Sept-Tours.

Locations

To follow the All Souls walking tour of Oxford, go to videos for fans on deborahharkness.com.

Oxford and Oxfordshire, England

Oxford

The City of Dreaming Spires lies at the heart of the All Souls world. This is where Diana discovered Ashmole 782; this is where she and Matthew met and fell in love. The city’s clinging fog, fabulous architecture, and atmosphere of ancient learning and tradition can make the most resolutely ordinary human believe that there is magic just around the corner. Fairy-tale settings combine with a modern market town, full of tourists, students, and residents going about their business on crowded city streets.

There are all kinds of creatures living in Oxford, drawn to its cultural richness and learning. Daemons and witches are more often found in the libraries and vampires in the research labs. But when Diana first called Ashmole 782 up from the stacks, it brought all three species flocking to the Bodleian in unprecedented numbers, determined to understand the secrets of her discovery.

Bodleian Library

The leather-bound volume was nothing remarkable. To an ordinary historian, it would have looked no different from hundreds of other manuscripts in Oxford’s Bodleian Library, ancient and worn.

Oxford’s famous library is the key location in the story of Ashmole 782—inside and out. From the moment you pass the striking Radcliffe Camera building and enter the gates into the quadrangle, seeing the spires above, the leaded windows and the statue of King James, you will find yourself in a bookish wonderland. The statue at eye level is Mary Sidney’s son, William Herbert. Each of the ancient doors around the quad leads to specific medieval schools, or departments. More than just a visual treat, the library is also a symbol of long-lost secrets, ancient knowledge, and modern scholarship. It’s a place where old books and the latest computers exist side by side, much as magic and science do in this world.

Entering the library on a typical day, you would see staff at work, readers and scholars poring over priceless books, and exhausted students resting their heads on their desks. Underneath all this activity, there is another library: magical, enchanted, a place where books appear and disappear according to the logic of old spells cast by witches intent on protecting precious information.

Duke Humfrey’s

I nodded to the busts of Thomas Bodley and King Charles I that flanked the arched entrance to Duke Humfrey’s and pushed through the swinging gate by the call desk.

Within the Bodleian Library, the beautiful Duke Humfrey’s is the reading room for Diana. With its ancient wooden desks, Gothic painted ceiling, and stained-glass windows, it is a perfect place to find a witch, a vampire, and a lost manuscript. Here the creatures circled Diana following her discovery of Ashmole 782, and this is where she first felt the icy focus of Matthew’s stare.

It had been no more than an hour since I’d been with Matthew, but the sight of him stretched out among the first bay of Elizabethan desks in one of the medieval wing’s purgatorial chairs was welcome.

If you venture to the Arts End of Duke Humfrey’s, you can see the busts of King Charles I and Sir Thomas Bodley flanking the arched entrance, watching over the readers as they did Diana the night she broke into the library to unite the Book of Life with its lost pages.

As a research student at Oxford, I spent a lot of time in libraries—college libraries like All Souls, Merton, and Corpus Christi, the History Faculty Library, as well as most of the different reading rooms at the Bodleian. When I wasn’t in Duke Humfrey’s looking at rare books and manuscripts, my friends knew they could find me in the Bodleian’s Upper Reading Room surrounded by index cards and notes. The amazing architecture, the painted friezes along the walls, and the collection of portraits atop the bookcases provide plenty of inspiration for any historian—or novelist.

Upper Reading Room

I glanced through the small window stuck into the swinging door that led to the Upper Reading Room, and I gasped. The room was full to bursting with creatures.

Bodleian Library, Broad Street, Oxford OX1 3 BG

See also: ORGANIZATIONS: Bodleian Library

Bridge of Sighs

The vampire sat in the shadows on the curved expanse of the bridge that spanned New College Lane.

Also known as Hertford Bridge, this raised walkway joins two parts of Hertford College over New College Lane and is a much-loved and iconic Oxford landmark. From here Matthew could watch, unnoticed, as Diana walked below him, heading back to her college.

Bridge of Sighs, New College Lane, Oxford OX1 3BL

New College Lane

No matter what I told myself in the quadrangle, my walk home was faster than usual. The gloom of New College Lane was a spooky proposition at the best of times.

New College Lane, Oxford OX1 3BL

New College

Fleeing from the warden’s lodgings, I turned toward my old refuge in the cloisters and walked among the pillars until my pulse stopped racing.

Diana Bishop’s alma mater, and her host institution during her research fellowship in England, New College is known for its well-preserved medieval garden, its Gothic cloisters, and the beauty of its buildings. Number 7 staircase, off the garden quadrangle, leads up to where Diana’s rooms were.

New College, Holywell Street, Oxford OX1 3BN

See also: ORGANIZATIONS: New College

All Souls College

A pair of ornate scrolled gates guarded his college as if it were Wonderland.

Matthew Clairmont’s august institution is the quietest of the Oxford colleges, despite its busy location off the Radcliffe Quad between Broad Street and the High, and it has frontage facing the Radcliffe Camera as well as High Street. Unless you are a scholar with permission to enter through the Codrington Library, you will have to use the High Street entrance. Walking through to the final quadrangle reveals Hawksmoor’s famous towers reaching for the sky.

All Souls College, Oxford OX1 4AL

See also: ORGANIZATIONS: All Souls College

Covered Market

I went shopping along the aisles of Oxford’s Covered Market. List in hand, I made my first stop at the butcher for fresh venison and rabbit, and then to the fishmonger for Scottish salmon.

Did vampires eat greens?

Oxford’s bustling Covered Market was originally opened at the end of the eighteenth century to bring all the city’s messy food stalls under one roof. It is still home to a range of traders, the majority of whom deal in delicious fresh food. It was the best place for Diana to find the quality produce she needed to cater to a vampire with a refined palate.

Covered Market, Oxford OX1 4AQ

See also: LIFESTYLES: All Souls Recipes

Christ Church Meadow and the Isis River

We walked in silence for a few minutes, wrapped up in the gray fog and the strangeness of being alone, witch and vampire.

Residents of Oxford will spend whole days walking through the meadow, wandering down to picnic on the banks of the Isis River and watch the boats go by when the weather permits. Walking toward the river soon takes you to one of the main towpaths: turning left on it takes you down past the university boathouses; going right leads to the stone bridge used by cars. Carefully crossing over the bridge and using this towpath will give you a different vantage point and allow you to carry on down past the boathouses opposite. Diana rowed this way, under Donnington Bridge, past the city of Oxford’s boathouse on the other bank, and to the Isis Farmhouse pub at a spot in the river known as Haystacks Corner.

Christ Church Meadow, Oxford OX1 1DP

I managed to get down the river, but the serenity of the outing had evaporated. Turning the boat in front of the Isis Tavern, I spotted Clairmont standing beside one of the pub’s tables. He’d managed to get there from the Donnington Bridge—on foot—in less time than I’d done it in a racing scull.

Here you can see the stretch of river that Diana was rowing down, with the Isis Tavern (now called the Isis Farmhouse), where she found Matthew waiting for her, on the right.

Isis Farmhouse, Haystacks Corner, The Towing Path, Iffley Lock, Oxford OX4 4EL

See also: LIFESTYLE: Rowing

Woodstock

The picturesque village of Woodstock, within easy distance of Oxford, is today known as the place where tourists have lunch before visiting nearby Blenheim Palace, as well as for its historical association with the craft of glove making. In the world of All Souls, this is where Matthew’s house, the Old Lodge, is located. The village is a wonderful example of a medieval town in the Oxfordshire countryside. Like Matthew, Diana is lucky enough to know it in both the Tudor and modern periods.

Long ago there was a royal palace in Woodstock, and the area was popular with members of the royal family who wanted to hunt and breathe some country air. Henry VIII was especially fond of the deer park there. Woodstock was less recreational for Elizabeth Tudor, who in 1554 was imprisoned in the palace by her sister Mary. The medieval palace is long gone, its stones and bricks used to build Blenheim, but Matthew’s local church, St. Mary Magdalene, can still be seen. The spectacular timbered ceiling will make you think you have timewalked to 1590, and you may hear the same bells that Diana did, tolling the hours.

St. Mary Magdalene Church, Park Street, Woodstock, Oxfordshire OX20 1UG

Sixteenth-century Woodstock as recorded in Gonçalves Manuscript 4890 (Diana’s commonplace book)

The Old Lodge

A two-story Tudor manor house was arranged around a central courtyard. Its bricks glowed in the illumination of powerful spotlights that shone through the branches of gnarled oak trees to light the face of the building.

In 1536, during the early dissolutions of the monasteries, Henry VIII rewarded Matthew for his services to the Crown by gifting him land that had been occupied by a religious house. Matthew was forced to tear down the monastery, and he built a house on the site of the ruins. As both a carpenter and a stonemason, Matthew chose not to use the stones of the old foundation for his house, believing that to do so would be sacrilege. Instead he built a massive half-timbered Tudor mansion in the middle of the Cotswolds. Its black-and-white façade sticks out like a sore thumb amid the warm Cotswold stone of the area’s architecture, but the de Clermonts have never been slaves to fashion.

Diana was stunned by Matthew’s beautiful Oxfordshire house when he first took her there for a yoga class. Looking at the real Tudor manor house that inspired the Old Lodge and grounds, it’s easy to imagine her reaction. The striking Speke Hall is located in the north of England, near Liverpool, rather than in the Cotswolds, and dates back to 1530. Its exterior and design, as well as the interiors of the wood-paneled Great Hall and the ornately carved bed in the Tudor Green Bedroom, conjure the Old Lodge’s atmosphere and presence. Speke Hall also has a priest hole (a common feature in that period of religious persecution), as well as a peephole in one of the bedroom’s chimneys, allowing occupants to spy visitors coming up the approach to the house.

I was an impressionable eight years old when I first visited Speke Hall. It has always been the Tudor house of my imagination, so I just had to have it for Matthew. In a move of authorial invention, I relocated it to Oxfordshire—even though the half-timbered architecture is not really characteristic of that region. Speke Hall is now operated by the National Trust, and the house and grounds are open to visitors, so be sure to drop in if you’re ever in the area!

The Old Lodge sixteenth-century floor plans, as recorded in Gonçalves Manuscript 4890 (Diana's commonplace book)

Speke Hall, the Walk, Liverpool, Merseyside L24 1XD

See also: DECORATIVE ARTS: The Old Lodge Parlor

Chipping Weston

Chipping Weston was the type of picturesque English village where novelists liked to set murder mysteries. It looked like a postcard or a film set, but it was home to several hundred people who lived in thatched houses spread out over a handful of narrow lanes.

When looking for a village to serve as a model for Chipping Weston, the home of daemon Timothy Weston, I discovered Weston-on-the-Green. It seemed meant to be! The medieval village has preserved many historical sites, including the public stocks where residents were punished for their crimes. The model for Timothy’s house is a hotel, the Manor at Weston-on-the-Green, dating back to the early sixteenth century (with various additions and renovations carried out over the years).

The Manor at Weston-on-the-Green, Northampton Road, Oxfordshire OX25 3QL

Scotland

Cadzow Lodge

Little about this part of Scotland was soft or inviting, and its forbidding beauty suited his present mood. He downshifted through the lime alley that had once led to a palace and now led nowhere, an odd remnant of a grand life no one wanted to live anymore. Pulling up to what had been the back entrance of an old hunting lodge, where rough brown stone stood in sharp contrast to the creamy stuccoed front, he climbed out of his Jaguar and lifted his bags from the trunk.

Hamish Osborne’s Scottish hunting lodge, Cadzow, was inspired by Chatelherault Country Park in Hamilton, Scotland. Built in 1732 as a hunting lodge for the Dukes of Hamilton, Chatelherault was designed by the neoclassical architect Robert Adam (1728–92) and is all that is left of a once-vast estate. The remains of the tree-lined avenue that Matthew drove down once linked the hunting lodge to the famously grand and luxurious Hamilton Palace, seat of the Hamilton family, which was eventually demolished in 1921. The ruins of sixteenth-century Cadzow Castle can still be seen in the grounds of Chatelherault Country Park, overlooking the gorge of the river Avon. The nearby town of Hamilton was also once named Cadzow, but the name was changed in the mid-fifteenth century in honor of the 1st Lord Hamilton.

Matthew isn’t a fan of Hamish’s gaudy “ill-conceived folly,” with its grand and drafty dining room, but to Hamish the lodge’s lavish design and impracticality are the perfect sign of how far he has risen from his Glaswegian roots. Matthew and Hamish have spent many contented evenings here drinking wine and whiskey and playing chess.

Chatelherault Country Park, Carlisle Road, Ferniegair, Hamilton ML3 7UE

Shadow of Night Outtake

The Voyage to France

Five of us set out from the Old Lodge in Saturday’s predawn darkness. Our early departure was timed to take full advantage of the meager seven hours of daylight between sunrise and sunset. Riding a large black stallion named Brutus, Matthew issued final orders to the staff while Walter, Gallowglass, and Pierre completed their own preparations for the journey. My chestnut mare had been tacked up with a sidesaddle for propriety’s sake. I sat on it gingerly and hoped for the best. Ysabeau had dared me to ride sidesaddle at Sept-Tours, and I thanked Matthew’s mother silently for doing so while my horse fidgeted impatiently in the courtyard. I managed to stay on her back despite the slip of my woolen skirts against the leather-and-velvet saddle, all the while thinking longingly of my modern black riding britches and boots.

Once clear from the boundary of Matthew’s estate, we took the muddy track that would one day become the smoothly paved, considerably wider Woodstock Road, and turned toward the south coast of England. En route we passed lumbering wagons as well as people traveling on smaller, tired animals. Matthew spared no expense in acquiring fresh horses from the inns stationed conveniently along the way. For Elizabethan spies the key to speed was a ready supply of good horseflesh rather than a fast car.

For the first part of the journey, I was delighted to be outdoors and seeing more of sixteenth-century England. The countryside looked as I had expected it would: small clusters of houses and barns cobbled together from a combination of stone, plaster, wood, and thatch; gray plumes of smoke rising from chimneys and autumn bonfires; animals set out to pasture; and people going about their daily tasks. But I reveled in the small details of life that history books seldom mentioned: the flurry of birds entering and exiting dovecotes; the cries of children as they gleaned the walnuts that had been shaken from the trees in Thursday’s storms, their hands stained from contact with the hulls; the dogs that roamed freely and kept the sheep, cows, and nut-collecting children safely corralled; the women who were taking advantage of today’s break in the rain to do laundry.

By noon we had traveled nearly thirty miles, but there were as many still before us. After climbing onto my third horse, I could muster no further interest in the passing sights and sounds. I was aware only of crushing fatigue and the bizarre sensation that the earth was moving underneath me even when I was standing still. When we changed horses yet again, Matthew insisted that I rest and have some food. Though nothing was said, it was clear that I was slowing us down.

“Let me ride astride,” I murmured to Matthew, working my gloves off chilled fingers. “We could go faster if I felt more secure on my horse.”

“It’s too risky,” Matthew said, casting a look from the window of our private room into the inn’s busy courtyard. “We’ve already drawn attention by traveling in such a large group. A woman riding astride would suggest there was an emergency that put speed over decorum.” I was about to point out that we were in precisely that situation when Raleigh intervened.

“There’s little hope of making Portsmouth by nightfall,” Walter observed quietly, handing me a beaker of wine and pointing me to a roasted capon that was steaming on the table. As my stomach was churning with exhaustion and motion sickness, I lowered myself into a nearby chair instead, my hips and thighs protesting.

“Then we will change our plans,” Matthew said curtly, his eyes still on the courtyard below.

Walter’s prediction was realized at the outskirts of Winchester when I toppled from my horse. Had I not been traveling with three vampires, it would have been a nasty fall. Instead Gallowglass caught me, Pierre kept my horse from bolting, and Matthew carried me to our lodgings for the night. The last thing I remembered clearly was the blinking of lamps in the dusk and the spires of the cathedral rising from the chalky soil of the downs.

When my eyes opened, I was lying in a comfortable bed. I still felt the sensation of movement, rather like the one I had after a long row on the river, when despite being on dry land I could still feel the run of water under the boat’s hull. Matthew waited beside me. Two men in somber black habits stood nearby, large crosses worked in silver thread over their hearts. Startled by the sight, I tried to get up.

“Everything’s all right,” Matthew said, carrying my hand to his lips and kissing the ring on my third finger.

“Where are we?” I asked after I’d fallen back onto the pillows.

“You are at the Hospital of the Holy Cross, Madame de Clermont.” A middle-aged man at the front of the huddle stepped forward. I was surprised that he knew Matthew’s true identity, as well as our relationship. Clearly I still didn’t understand the rules of being a spy’s wife. “I am Robert Bennett, the master of the hospital.”

“A hospital. How long have I been here?” I grabbed for Matthew’s hand. Sixteenth-century hospitals were places for incurable complaints and last resorts for poor souls who couldn’t afford any other treatment.

“Not yet thirty minutes,” Matthew replied, smoothing my hair with his free hand. “You collapsed.”

“I’ve never collapsed!” My protest was less effective from a prone position, and I struggled to sit up again. Matthew’s hands on my shoulders kept me from doing so.

“You did a damned fine imitation of it, then,” Walter said sharply. Bennett raised an admonishing finger. “My apologies, Robert.”

It was evident after listening to the next twenty minutes of conversation that the Hospital of the Holy Cross was part almshouse, part home for indigent travelers, and entirely within the control of the Knights of Lazarus. I wondered why Walter’s orders had been obeyed immediately, producing rooms far from the other guests and the promise of a hot bath later to ease my sore muscles. The answer lay in the signet on Walter’s little finger, bearing the outlines of Lazarus and his coffin.

“So you’re a knight, too,” I said weakly as Walter and Matthew helped me out of bed.

“Yes,” said Walter tersely.

“And you must outrank Hancock.” Walter had effectively silenced him at the Old Lodge. Raleigh pulled out a chair for me in lieu of a reply. “What about Gallowglass?”

“I outrank everyone in this room, madam, with the exception of your husband,” Raleigh cautioned. “And that includes you. So be quiet and eat what Brother Barnabas has prepared for your supper.” Brother Barnabas, who waited patiently by the table with a bowl, smiled at me encouragingly.

“You have no authority over me,” I shot back. “Exactly what is your role in the de Clermont family’s business, Walter?”

Over my head, Raleigh’s angry blue eyes met Matthew’s. “Is she always like this?”

“Usually,” Matthew said dryly. “It takes some getting used to, but I rather like it. You might, too, given time.”

Walter snorted but answered, “I command the brotherhood in England.”

“So you’re one of the order’s eight provincial masters and report directly to Philippe,” I said thoughtfully. “I wondered for a moment if you were the ninth knight.” The ninth knight was a mysterious figure in the order, his identity kept secret from all except those at the very highest levels.

Raleigh swore so vehemently that Brother Barnabas gasped.

“That’s more than enough talk of the brotherhood for one evening,” Matthew said, drawing me toward the fire in an attempt to distract me with food.

“Your wife won’t be satisfied leaving it there. She will worry at this like a hound with a bone.” Raleigh crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. “Very well. If you must know, Henry Percy is the ninth knight. His unwillingness to embrace the Protestant faith makes him vulnerable to allegations of treason here in England, and in Europe he is an easy target for every malcontent who would like to see Her Majesty lose her throne. Philippe offered him the position to shield him from those who would abuse his trusting nature.”

“Henry? A rebel?” I was stunned.

“He’s a powerful man, Diana, for all his soft skin and boyish manners.” Walter held out a polished pewter spoon. “Eat.”

My questions answered—for the moment—I did what Raleigh commanded. The heat of the fire and the warmth of Brother Barnabas’s excellent soup soon had me drowsing at the table, my lullaby the soft conversation between Matthew and Walter.

Next morning Matthew bundled me into the saddle in front of him to make up for lost time. We covered the distance to the south coast at a breakneck pace. I was accustomed to Dover as the preferred departure point for the Continent, given the relatively short distance between it and the French coast, and was surprised that we were taking a longer route. Going from Portsmouth to Guernsey and then on to France meant we avoided the English stronghold of Calais and the more traveled roads around Paris. This crossing would be treacherous given the tricky currents, winds, and tides, Matthew explained, but Walter and Gallowglass could make the journey blindfolded.

In Portsmouth I studied the thick stone walls that had been built to protect the harbor from French attacks and noticed the number of ships at anchor—bulky merchant vessels, small fishing craft, even a few imposing warships outfitted with guns. Raleigh and Gallowglass disappeared for several hours and returned having procured a boat for the crossing. Both looked at me blandly when I asked for further information, and Matthew’s forbidding expression soon stopped my questions.

Whatever vessel we were sailing in was stolen.

One glimpse of the boat made me wish that the thieves had been more daring. The small vessel had only two sails, a rough deck made from salvaged materials including a garden gate and a battered door, and a distinct smell of fish about it. A few oars rested by the gunwales.

“It’s not likely to sink—not before we reach Guernsey in any case,” Walter said, flipping over a coil of rope with his toe. A crab scuttled down the deck in alarm, and I was tempted to do likewise. Instead I put one foot on the rickety surface.

“If you need a break from rowing, I can lend a hand,” I told Gallowglass as he helped me into the boat. Pierre chuckled and said something unintelligible in French.

“I’ll be sure to let you know, Auntie,” Gallowglass said in a measured tone, though his eyes crinkled in amusement. He glanced at his uncle. “So the witch has been around boats? You never cease to surprise me.” My husband gave him a withering look and hopped in after me.

“Gallowglass grew up with an oar in his hand,” Walter said with a grin. “As he’s a wearh, he could probably row us to Virginia and back. We will have no trouble reaching Guernsey.”

On board, Raleigh gave me a choice of seats: in the stern with him or down in the hold. The first was exposed to the elements, and the fresh breeze was rapidly becoming a cold wind. The second was close and sour smelling. Though I had never been seasick, I elected to play it safe and sit where my eyes could remain on the horizon. Matthew bundled me up not only in my cloak but also in his own, Gallowglass’s, and Pierre’s. The vampires, after all, didn’t need them.

Once the sun set, however, not even four cloaks could keep the cold at bay. Raleigh, cheeks bright red with excitement and the wind, seemed as oblivious to the temperature as the rest of them, but I was not so fortunate and crept below. There the pitch of the boat was more obvious than it was on deck. Matthew unwound my cocoon and spread one cloak on the none-too-clean wooden table. He tightened the other two over my recumbent form so that I would be less likely to roll off in the swells, and returned to help steer us to shore.

Raleigh’s knowledge of the waters got us to the island off the French coast in less than twelve hours. He was assisted by Matthew’s excellent night vision, a stiff southwesterly wind, and Gallowglass, who kept up a running commentary about the poor construction of the ship.

At last we disembarked and entered the village of Saint-Pierre. It was a frontier town, and its battened-down shutters and jumpy residents gave off an aura of ready violence. Soon the people of Guernsey discovered that it was Walter and Gallowglass who had arrived, and the welcome became warmer. Pirates, smugglers, and outlaws of various nationalities appeared out of the murk to pass the time and share news. One escorted us to a nearby tavern that was still open for business despite the hour.

“Look what the cat’s dragged in. Where’s your shadow, Gallowglass?” A petite woman with long black eyelashes and a complexion the color of churned cream stood in front of a cask of wine, hands on hips. She looked eagerly around his bulky shoulder and found me instead. My skin turned frosty under her gaze.

“Hello, Lizzie.” Gallowglass bent over and smacked a kiss on each of her pale cheeks. “Hancock’s gone to Anglesey for Yule. I did think he expected to find his wife waiting to welcome him.”

Lizzie sniffed. “Davy drinks too much when he’s with his family.”

“Hancock will come here and fetch you, whether or not you want to go.” Gallowglass sat down with a groan and beckoned at one of the servers.

“He is welcome to try,” Lizzie said darkly. She grabbed at the pitcher of wine and two tankards from a grizzled man with a rolling gait. “These will do for the warmbloods, Brandon, but bring our best for the other gentlemen.” The female vampire fixed black eyes on Matthew. “What are you up to, then, young Matthew? Nothing good, I warrant.”

Matthew looked frazzled. “Gallowglass assured me you would be in Wales.” My stomach dropped. Matthew kept saying there was no chance of running into his mother at Sept-Tours, but it seemed no one was where they were supposed to be.

“We’ve traveled down that road already.” Birdlike eyes looked at me with amusement and a touch of speculation. “As your man seems unwilling, you might tell me what to call you.” Matthew stepped forward, and Lizzie put up an imperious hand. “Do not interrupt, lordling.”

Walter and Gallowglass busied themselves with the fastenings on their cloaks.

Matthew, unmoved by Lizzie’s swagger, responded anyway. “This is my wife, Lizzie.”

“And her name?” Lizzie waited for a few moments, then gave an exasperated sigh. “You cannot expect me to address her as Madame de Clermont, given the way I feel about your mother.”

“Diana,” I said quickly, and bobbed a curtsy.

“Merciful Mary.” Lizzie gave a low whistle. “What I wouldn’t give to see Ysabeau’s face when she discovers that her beloved Matthew has wed a witch.”

“When lasses whistle, Lizzie, the devil laughs outright,” Gallowglass warned.

“If it’s proverbs you’re after, you great Norse wolf, how about this one: A p’tit pourche grosse pândis.” Lizzie’s hands came to rest on her hips. “‘The smallest pig gets the biggest parsnip.’ Or at least he has thus far. I’m not sure what Ysabeau will dish up for her pet when she hears this news.” I tensed at the mention of Ysabeau.

“My mother is in Germany,” Matthew murmured, resting his hand on my shoulder. This was no comfort; his mother was anything but predictable.

“Aye, and I’m in Wales.” Lizzie’s smile was mischievous. “If women did what men expected them to do, life would be very dull.”

“And there would be far less bloodshed and trouble. Has Brandon gone to Saint-Malo for my drink, or are your cellars as disordered as your household?” Gallowglass’s patience with pleasantries had evaporated.

“There’s nothing wrong with my cellars.” Lizzie poked a finger at Walter as he moved past, stripping himself of his weapons. “You’re very quiet, poppet. What say you about all this?”

“If it would make any difference, I’d say it’s none of your affair, Lizzie.” Walter’s dagger landed point down in the table. “Show Matthew and his new bride some of your famous hospitality—a room with a bed and a fire in it, if you please. We have business with Crooked Ned. Then you can placate Gallowglass. You know how he is when he’s hungry.”

Lizzie grumbled, but she followed his orders. Matthew and I were shown into a room with a small bed and a crackling fire. The personal objects here and there—a carved shell on the mantel, a potted hellebore sitting on a windowsill—led me to believe this was Lizzie’s own bedchamber. I slept most of the day while Matthew and Raleigh talked to the aptly named Crooked Ned, awoke in the evening long enough to have some vegetable stew and cheese, and then slumbered until past midnight.

Matthew roused me in the dark of Monday morning. “It’s time,” he whispered.

Walter left us at Guernsey, a lantern in one hand and the other lifted in farewell. There was a price on his head in Catholic Europe, and he could go no farther. “The penalty of being a hero,” he’d explained with his flashing grin and wicked eyes.

The task of navigating the tricky waters now fell to Gallowglass. We were in an even smaller boat for the next leg of our journey, but it was more seaworthy than the first. Silently he rowed us south through the inlets between the islands of Guernsey, Herm, and Sark and out into the bay, where the tides whirled in all directions. Pierre sat in the bow with a shuttered lantern. Matthew stood by my side, one foot resting on the edge of the hull. I gripped the gunwale with one hand, Matthew’s knee with the other.

“What’s our next port? The usual place?” Gallowglass asked quietly as he put down his oars and raised the solitary sail. Though it would be more than four hours before the sun rose, other craft were visible in the darkness. I picked out the shadowed outlines of a sail, a lantern swinging from a post in the stern of a neighboring vessel.

“Walter said we were going to Saint-Malo,” I said, my head turning in consternation. The port was full of men without allegiance to the French. Some had sailed under his command, and Walter had promised the rest could be made cooperative with a few coins.

“I remember well enough where Raleigh told me to go, Auntie, but he’s a pirate. And English. And he’s not here. I’m asking Matthew.”

France

Mont Saint-Michel

The boat was lifted up on the waves, and through the mist a steeple pierced the clouds. It was surprisingly close, the base of the structure obscured by weather.

We entered a room with a forest of columns holding up its vaulted roof. Large fireplaces studded the walls, spreading blessed warmth.

Diana and Matthew’s first port of call in sixteenth-century France, the famous Mont Saint-Michel, is a fortified monastery perched on an islet just off the coast of Normandy. There has been a monastery there since the eighth century, founded by Bishop Aubert of Avranches. Surrounded by treacherous quicksands at low tide and the swirling waters of dangerous currents at high tide, Mont Saint-Michel has proved an impenetrable stronghold through the centuries, both in and out: For decades after the French Revolution, it was also used as a prison. Mont Saint-Michel was the original base for Louis XI’s Order of St. Michael (the motto for which Matthew whispered as they approached it), with the Knights Hall dedicated to the order.

50170 Mont Saint-Michel

See also: ORGANIZATIONS: The Order of St. Michael

City of Fougères

After braving the exposed sands around Mont Saint-Michel at low tide and traveling inland, de Clermont allies welcomed us into the city of Fougères and lodged us in a comfortably appointed tower on the ramparts overlooking the French countryside.

Diana and Matthew stopped briefly at Fougères on their way to Sept-Tours. It is an ancient French town on the edge of Brittany, dating back to the end of the tenth century, and it can still be explored today.

35133 Fougères

Château de Baugé

“This was René’s favorite hunting lodge. It was so full of life when he lived here, with artists and scholars in every room.”

The game that resided in the well-stocked forests surrounding Château de Baugé drew Matthew’s old friend René, Count of Anjou, to build this grand hunting lodge in the mid-fifteenth century. René was famed in his time as both an amateur painter and an author of several books, including King René’s Tournament Book, describing the rules and customs of medieval tournaments.

Château de Baugé, Place de l’Europe, 49150 Baugé

Village of Saint-Benoît-du-Sault

We reached the stone walls and timbered houses of Saint-Benoît on schedule, just as Philippe had commanded.

Saint-Benoît-du-Sault, through which Matthew and Diana passed, is a beautiful French medieval village of winding cobbled streets overlooking the Portefeuille River, just northwest of the more dramatic landscape of the Auvergne.

Saint-Benoît-du-Sault, 36170

The Auvergne

The landscape of the Auvergne is a microcosmic reflection of Matthew Clairmont’s appearance, history, and personality. It is at once forbidding and beautiful, with awe-inspiring peaks and shadowed valleys. Forgotten villages cling to the hillsides, their basalt fortresses and Romanesque churches a persistent reminder of how important this region once was to the history of medieval Europe. Now it is all goat herds, cheese making, and ecotourism, but once this was the political and religious center of the Christian West. The First Crusade set off from this region, and even now you can climb the peaks and see the traceries of the pilgrim road from Paris to Compostela snaking over the mountains.

It is in the Auvergne that the ancient vampire elite settled when the Roman Empire crumbled and before the modern nation-states of Europe rose to power. The patriarch of the de Clermont clan, Philippe de Clermont, built his empire here in a village called Saint-Lucien, and the de Clermonts have remained there ever since in their castle of Sept-Tours.

The de Clermonts also own other castles in the area, which is typical of the ancient vampire families who settled there during times of vampire warfare, when it was necessary to fortify their territory against possible invaders. In the case of the de Clermonts, the rival power in the Auvergne is Gerbert d’Aurillac, whose base is at Château des Anges Déchus (Château of the Fallen Angels) in the nearby Cantal. Though an uneasy détente has been achieved between the d’Aurillac and de Clermont vampire clans, their castles are a constant reminder of how vicious the contest for power once was.

Château des Anges Déchus

Arm in arm, Ysabeau and Marthe walked out into the crisp dawn. The towers of Château des Anges Déchus grew smaller and smaller behind them until they disappeared from sight.

Gerbert d’Aurillac’s château is based on the Château du Sailhant in the Auvergne. Dating from the thirteenth century, this fortress was built on a triangular outcrop, with dungeons at each corner, and has changed hands frequently through the centuries. Château des Anges Déchus is the perfect base from which Gerbert can plot and scheme, controlling his large network of vampires. It is also in close enough proximity to the de Clermonts for him to keep an eye on their movements.

Château du Sailhant, Lieu-dit Le Sailhant, 15100 Andelat

La Pierre

We descended toward something that looked like a crater set apart from the surrounding countryside by yawning ravines and overgrown forests. It proved to be the ruin of a medieval castle, with high walls and thick foundations that extended deep into the earth.

When witch Satu Järvinen yanked Diana out of the gardens at Sept-Tours, she took her to La Pierre and held her captive there. La Pierre is based on a medieval ruin in the Auvergne called Château de Murol. A formidable fortress dating from the twelfth century, it survived many sieges during the French Wars of Religion and was later abandoned as a residence following the French Revolution. Used briefly as a prison and reportedly a thieves’ lair, it eventually fell into ruin in the nineteenth century.

Château de Murol, La Rivière, 63790 Murol

As a historian and a writer, I try to stick as closely as I can to what is really possible. Why make up a ruin if there’s a perfectly good one that you can tweak, adapt, and modify? I knew nothing about the medieval architecture of the Auvergne when I started writing A Discovery of Witches, but I’m so glad that my work has led me (and other people) to have a better appreciation of this history-steeped region. As for the tweaking, Château de Murol doesn’t have an oubliette—I added one!

Church at Saint-Lucien

Like many religious buildings in this part of France, Saint-Lucien’s house of worship was already ancient in 1590. Its simple lines were altogether different from the soaring heights and lacy stonework of a Gothic cathedral.

The village church of Saint Lucien witnesses pivotal moments in Matthew and Diana’s story over the centuries. It was in the half-built structure that Ysabeau found Matthew’s broken human body, and then gave him his rebirth as a de Clermont; Matthew and Diana were married at the door of the church in 1590; and finally in the twenty-first century their twins, Rebecca and Philip, were baptized there.

The inspiration for Saint Lucien came from a Romanesque church built in the sixth century (as Saint Lucien would have been) called Sant’Apollinare in Classe, Ravenna. The village church would have been far simpler than this one, with Matthew’s hand evident in the carpentry, but the design and decorations would have been similar in style.

Basilica di Sant’Apollinare, Via Romea Sud, 224, 48124 Classe RA, Italy

Sept-Tours

In the center of rolling hills was a flattened peak dominated by a crenellated hunk of buff and rose stone. Seven smaller towers surrounded it, and a turreted gatehouse stood guard in front. This was not a pretty fairy-tale castle made for moonlit balls. Sept-Tours was a fortress.

Philippe established Sept-Tours (Seven Towers), the family seat of the de Clermonts, when the Roman Empire fell apart. It is the center from which the family’s power maneuverings throughout the world are carried out, as well as the base for the Knights of Lazarus. This isn’t a cozy family home but a working household of ancient beauty and formidable strength.

Sept-Tours was modeled after Château Dauphin in Pontgibaud, right down to the decorations in the great hall, salon, and breakfast room. This twelfth-century castle is the latest in a series of residences built on the site that date back to A.D. 400. Like the other castles in the Auvergne, Dauphin has seen its share of warfare, changing hands through the Hundred Years’ War between England and France, besieged during the French Wars of Religion, and captured by a Huguenot captain who reportedly locked the defenders in their own dungeons.

Château Dauphin, 63230 Pontgibaud

Sept-Tours floor plan

Les Revenants

Les Revenants was smaller than Sept-Tours, but not by much. There were only four towers, Matthew pointed out, one on each corner of the square keep. But the moat that surrounded it was large enough to qualify as a lake, and the splendid stable complex and beautiful interior courtyard rather took away from any claims that this was more modest than the official de Clermont residence.

Les Revenants, a place Philippe de Clermont originally built to house returning Crusaders, is Diana and Matthew’s haven near Limousin. There they were able to enjoy a brief period of private calm when the twins were first born, and it later became a gathering place for their new Bishop-Clairmont scion. A gift from Ysabeau, Les Revenants is cozy by her standards, with doors that assured privacy in every room, and modern conveniences like an elevator. This de Clermont residence is based, inside and out, on the impressive Château de Montbrun. A renovated medieval castle on the edge of the Limousin region, it was originally built by a returning Crusader in 1179, Aymeric Bruni (Brun), with alterations dating back to the fifteenth century and restoration work undertaken during the nineteenth century. You can imagine Diana and Matthew studying within its wood-paneled library under atmospheric lighting.

Inside, however, there was an intimate feeling to the place, in spite of its large public rooms on the ground floor. Though the castle had been built in the twelfth century, it had been thoroughly renovated and was now fully updated with modern conveniences such as bathrooms, electricity, and even heat in some of the rooms. Despite all that, I was just winding myself up to reject the gift and any idea that we would ever live here when my clever husband showed me the library.

Château de Montbrun, 87230 Dournazac

Spain

Archivo General de Indias, Sevilla

Few scholars had reason to poke through the bizarre range of books and objects the Gonçalves had collected over the years. Most researchers were down the street at the Archivo General de Indias, arguing about Columbus.

This repository in Seville, dating back to the end of the sixteenth century, is a treasure trove of valuable documents archiving the history of Spain’s colonial past and explorations in the Americas, including Christopher Columbus’s journal.

Avenida de la Constitución, 41004 Sevilla

Madison, New York, USA

This small town in upstate New York is the home of Sarah Bishop and Emily Mather and the place where the two women raised Diana Bishop after the death of her parents in 1983. It is one of the former agricultural and light-industrial centers of nineteenth-century America, where today hardscrabble farms and tiny villages struggle to survive as children flee to cities because the jobs have all gone elsewhere. The area was settled by New England migrants in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries and has some characteristics of New England architecture, with clapboard buildings, picket fences, and rambling (usually empty) barns. With the Bishop family dating back to the earliest settlers, it is home to one of the most powerful dynasties of witches.

The Bishop House

We turned down the rutted road leading to the Bishop house. Its late eighteenth-century lines were boxy and generous, and it sat back from the road on a little knoll, surrounded by aged apple trees and lilac bushes.

The Bishop house, located in Madison, was built by witches fleeing eastern Massachusetts and the persistent memories of Salem. The Bishops moved there after the American Revolution, when the new government was encouraging settlement on the frontier. Many colonizers to upstate New York came from western Massachusetts, and they built farmhouses that looked like those they had grown up in.

The witches who constructed the house used spells as well as hammers and nails. As a result it has the ability to grow and shrink to accommodate the family and its houseguests. It has hidden storage chambers and removes items only to return them when needed. Sometimes the house’s idea of “need” does not correspond with that of the owner of the missing objects, be those items socks, lost grimoires, turkey platters, craft projects, Halloween decorations, bottles of wine, or errant pieces of mail. The house is also inhabited by the Bishop ghosts, who migrated from Salem to Madison with the family in 1790.

See also: DECORATIVE ARTS: The Keeping Room

The inspiration for the Bishop house was actually a house one of my grandfathers built in western Massachusetts in the eighteenth century. It’s still standing: a big white house on Harkness Road in Pelham called the Harkness House! A similar house, inside and out, is on Shutesbury Road, in Pelham, Massachusetts. I also spent a few happy years in upstate New York when I was teaching at Colgate in Hamilton and the Bishop house is partly modeled on my house there, too. It didn’t grow rooms, but it did creak and sigh. . . .

Forest of Madison and the Ancient Stag-Headed Oak

Above me the branches of the tree were cracked and withered. Bare limbs forked and forked again into shapes reminiscent of a stag’s horns.

Diana and Matthew were forced to confront the unhinged Juliette Durand in the shadowed forests surrounding the Bishop house at the end of A Discovery of Witches. As Matthew lay dying after his confrontation with Juliette, Diana made a deal with the goddess and used the life force of an old oak to save the man she loved.

To follow the All Souls walking tour of London, go to videos for fans on deborahharkness.com.

London, England

Like Oxford, London is steeped in memory and magic, and the juxtaposition of ancient and modern is ever present in this setting. Diana and Matthew have shared two Londons: the first the Elizabethan “Square Mile” within and just outside the early Roman walls, known as the City; the second the more expansive, modern metropolis. This multilayered combination of worlds is embodied in areas such as the Barbican: The medieval church of St. Giles Cripplegate, near the crumbling Roman wall of the Old City, is set within the present-day arts precinct. It is a world within a world, at once Roman, medieval, and current, the ancient and magical hiding in plain sight, nestled within a modern frame.

Creatures of every group are woven into the fabric of the city and have organized themselves into alliances often according to their location. The witches’ gatherings and Redes span the city in connection with the delineation of different parishes, while vampires within the Square Mile of the City answer to the vampire king of London, Andrew Hubbard, as do the daemons and witches caught in his family.

The City of Elizabethan London

“It looks like a demented hedgehog,” I observed. The London skyline was filled with needlelike spires that stuck up from the huddle of buildings that surrounded them.

This detail from a London panorama by Visscher in 1616 shows the London that Diana would have seen in 1590 with St. Paul’s Cathedral, Baynard’s castle on the river to its left, and Blackfriars to the left of Baynard’s castle.

London in 1590 was limited to the Square Mile of the City proper and its near surrounding suburbs. Covent Garden was open fields, and there was nothing but houses between the Inns of Court and Westminster. Remnants of the Roman wall still surrounded it. That said, the Square Mile is far less crowded now than it would have been in the Elizabethan period, when Matthew introduced Diana to the London he knew. By 1600 it’s estimated that nearly two hundred thousand people lived in that Square Mile, which included people of many nationalities speaking dozens of different languages. There were even foreign-language schools and churches in the City, so it was very cosmopolitan. Its boundaries today are roughly the same, marked by the red-and-white standards signifying where the City ends and the rest of London begins.

One of the things I’ve enjoyed most about writing the All Souls trilogy was the chance to bring late sixteenth-century London—the London I spent more than fifteen years researching as a scholar—to life for my readers. I know a lot about the city during the reign of Elizabeth. Not everything, but a lot. Some of it made its way into my history books and articles, but not all of it. My challenge in Shadow of Night was to paint a portrait of the city that was as round and real and three-dimensional as possible. It was all the more important to me because the Elizabethan city is barely perceptible in modern London. Much of what Diana and Matthew would have known was destroyed by fire in 1666 or by bombs in World War II. I did what I could to reconstruct it with words and hoped readers’ imaginations would fill in the rest.

Blackfriars

When Matthew turned us toward the City, I looked up. There was St. Paul’s. “I’m not likely to get lost with that in the neighborhood,” I murmured.

As we made our slow progress toward the cathedral, my senses grew accustomed to the chaos and it was possible to pick out individual sounds, smells, and sights. Bread baking. Coal fires. Wood smoke. Fermentation. Freshly washed garbage, courtesy of yesterday’s rains. Wet wool.

Diana and Matthew lived in a neighborhood called Blackfriars. It takes its name from the Dominican friars who set up their priory in the area between the Thames and Ludgate Hill in 1276. Very little remains of the once-vast ecclesiastical complex that stood south of Ludgate, but tucked into the maze of narrow medieval streets near St. Paul’s you can find some traces of the graveyard and the churchyard.

St. Paul’s Cathedral

"What is that?" I gasped, pointing to a vast expanse of stone pierced by tall windows. High above the wooden roof was a charred, stout stump that made the building’s proportions look all wrong.

“St Paul’s,” Matthew explained. This was not Christopher Wren’s graceful white-domed masterpiece, its bulk concealed until the last moment by modern office blocks. Old St. Paul’s, perched on London’s highest hill, was seen all at once.

“Lightning struck the spire, and the wood of the roof caught fire. The English believe it was a miracle the entire cathedral didn’t burn to the ground.”

Wren’s domed masterpiece marks the spot atop Ludgate Hill where once a great medieval cathedral stood. The “Old St. Paul’s” that Diana saw was in fact the fourth incarnation of the cathedral, which was started by the Normans in the eleventh century. Following the English Reformation in the early sixteenth century, the building became run down, and many sites in the churchyard were sold off to printers and booksellers (who had already congregated in this area of London). This also meant that St. Paul’s Churchyard was a vibrant center of learning in the City, where pamphlets and books were circulated, the latest news and gossip exchanged, and rigorous sermons from Protestant preachers heard. When the spire was struck by lightning in 1561, leaving a blackened stump, the Protestants and Catholics blamed each other for incurring God’s anger. The medieval structure was finally destroyed in the Great Fire of 1666 and rebuilt by Christopher Wren to become the iconic building that survives today. The bookshops that surrounded the cathedral are long gone, but if you look down while you walk in the precincts, you might be able to find the stone that marks the spot where Diana heard a sermon preached at St. Paul’s Cross.

St. Paul’s Churchyard, London EC4M 8AD

The Hart and Crown

The building was half-timbered, like most on the street. A vaulted passage spanned two arrays of windows. . . . The passage emptied out into the building’s interior courtyard—a luxury in a city as densely packed as London. The courtyard boasted another rare amenity: a well that provided clean water to the residents of the complex. Someone had taken advantage of the courtyard’s southern exposure by tearing up the old paving stones to plant a garden, and now its neat, empty beds patiently awaited spring.

The Hart and Crown, the residence in which Diana and Matthew had rooms in Tudor London, was on Water Lane in Blackfriars. In a city as cramped as London was at that time, they were lucky to have the spacious apartment they did, including the hidden archive room that Matthew revealed to Diana, decorated with strange hanging files filled with de Clermont family secrets. Water Lane would have been a bustling, narrow street, with creaking signs on each dwelling denoting the services for sale in the wide array of shops. The Hawleys, a shoemaker and his wife with whom Diana and Matthew shared the building, appear in the historical records of the period, living and working in Blackfriars, and the building’s complex was a community within a community. With so little remaining of the old Elizabethan city today, Water Lane has long since been renamed and built over. To imagine what the Hart and Crown might have been like, you can look at Staple Inn (situated in Holborn, northwest of Blackfriars), built in 1585. This is one of the few remaining Tudor buildings that has survived fire and war and has the same timber-framed façade and inner courtyard that the Hart and Crown would have had.

Staple Inn, London WC1V 7QJ

Belle Savage Inn

Matthew treated me to dinner at the famous Belle Savage Inn just outside Blackfriars on Ludgate Hill. More than a simple eatery, the Belle Savage was an entertainment complex where customers could see plays and fencing matches—not to mention Marocco, the famous horse that could pick virgins out of the crowd.

Records show that the Belle Savage Inn existed as far back as the beginning of the fifteenth century, and by 1590 it had developed into the entertainment complex that Diana visited with Matthew. Marocco, also known as Bankes’s Horse after his trainer, William Bankes, was a popular London attraction for the Elizabethan audiences. Born around 1586, the famous horse worked the London inns and traveled throughout the country, even into Scotland, until his death around 1606. Marocco was known for being able to walk on two legs and play dead, and he was sometimes called the politic horse because he would bow when the queen’s name was mentioned and bare his teeth and chase his master offstage if the name of the Spanish king, Philip II, was uttered. And yes, one of his most applauded acts was picking out the virgins in the crowd of onlookers.

A contemporary image of Bankes and Marocco performing their act

Playhouse Yard

It took me only a few steps to reach a narrow cobbled street that used to lead to the inner precincts of the old Blackfriars Priory. I frowned and pointed. “Wasn’t the Cardinal’s Hat in there?” It was one of Kit Marlowe’s watering holes.

“Good memory, Auntie. They call it Playhouse Yard now.” Our house had backed up to that part of the former monastery.

A plaque on the wall explains that this small, paved area in the heart of the City might have been the site of one of London’s first public playhouses. It is here, and in the surrounding streets, where Diana remembered her Elizabethan experiences in the City, conjuring the long-lost Tudor houses and doorways as she met up with a member of the contemporary London witches’ gathering.

Playhouse Yard, London EC4V 5EX

Baynard’s Castle

Matthew nodded and directed my attention down the street. “And that is Baynard’s Castle.” It was the largest building I had seen yet except for the tower, St. Paul’s, and the distant prospect of Westminster Abbey. Three crenellated towers faced the river, linked by walls that were easily twice the height of any of the nearby houses.

Like so much of the Elizabethan city, Baynard’s Castle is now nothing more than a sign on the corner of a busy intersection near the Blackfriars underground station. It is worth seeing if only to realize that once upon a time this was riverfront property! Taking its name from the original castle built by Ralph Baynard (who came to England with William the Conqueror), it was rebuilt by Henry VII in 1428. Henry VIII gave it to Catherine of Aragon, and on Henry’s death it passed to the Pembroke family, who used it as their lavish London residence. Diana passed many happy hours with Mary Sidney at the castle, where one of the tower rooms had been converted into Mary’s personal alchemical laboratory. Sadly, the castle was destroyed in the Great Fire of 1666, with the remaining ruins finally disappearing in the nineteenth century.

Enlarged detail of the 1650 Merian panorama of London picturing Baynard’s Castle on the riverfront

Baynard House, 135 Queen Victoria Street, London EC4V 4AA

See also: DECORATIV ARTS: Mary Sidney’s Laboratory

Christ Church Greyfriars

“We gather once a month in Father Hubbard’s crypt. He lives in what’s left of the Greyfriars Priory, just over there.”

Andrew Hubbard’s modern-day London house is located not far from St. Paul’s Cathedral in what was once the Greyfriars monastery church. Henry VIII first dissolved the medieval monastery. Its accompanying church was renamed Christ Church and was later destroyed in the Great Fire. Christopher Wren’s smaller replacement was subsequently hit by bombs in World War II. A peaceful rose garden has been planted in the ruins of the main body of the church, from where you can view the tower that remains. This tower has been converted into a private residence, and was the inspiration for Hubbard’s house.

The three ghosts at Greyfriars whom Diana and Linda Crosby discussed in The Book of Life refer to three women buried there. Queen Isabella, the “She-Wolf of France,” was wife to Edward II. Historians dispute whether she and her lover merely deposed, or also murdered, the king. On her death in 1358, she was buried in Greyfriars, dressed in her wedding mantle. Centuries later the reputedly beautiful Agnes Hungerford, found guilty of murdering her husband and hanged at Tyburn in 1523, was buried, too, at Greyfriars. Stories from the nineteenth century report sightings of these two ghostly women in the church grounds, fighting furiously. The third ghost Diana saw, the hysterical Elizabeth Barton, was the “Mad Maid of Kent,” who was also buried at Greyfriars in the sixteenth century. Often succumbing to fits and visions, Elizabeth landed herself in trouble when she prophesied against Henry VIII’s marriage to Anne Boleyn, and she was executed at Tyburn in 1534. Her later prophecy that Diana would have twins proved accurate.

Christ Church Greyfriars, King Edward Street, London EC1

The Inns of Court

“I heard he was at the Middle Temple Hall with Christopher Marlowe last night. Watching a play, by all accounts.”

Matthew Roydon and Kit Marlowe used to gamble and drown their sorrows at the Inns of Court. Dating back to the medieval period, these four Inns—Grey’s Inn, Inner Temple, Lincoln’s Inn, and Middle Temple—then and now were training grounds for lawyers and also served as gentlemanly finishing schools for the elite. Middle Temple Hall is one of the few buildings from Matthew Roydon’s time to have survived the ravages of fire and world war. The nearby Temple Church, now belonging to Inner and Middle Temple Halls, also still stands, although it is heavily restored. Built by the Knights Templar in the late twelfth century, it operated as part of their English treasury and headquarters, and many of the order’s secret initiation ceremonies took place there.

Middle Temple Hall, Middle Temple Lane, London EC4Y 9AT

Temple Church, Temple, London EC4Y 7BB

See also: ORGANIZATIONS: The Knights Templar

The Parish of St. James Garlickhythe

The area surrounding St. James’s Church was far more prosperous than Blackfriars, with spacious well-kept streets, large houses, busy shops, and a tidy churchyard.

The parish of St. James Garlickhythe, where Susanna Norman, Goody Alsop, and the rest of the Garlickhythe gathering lived, was a prosperous area in the Elizabethan city of London. The old medieval church of St. James, like most in this area, was destroyed in the Great Fire, but the replacement rebuilt by Wren still stands. The name Garlickhythe was taken from the nearby landing spot on the Thames where ships carrying garlic bulbs from France had docked and traded since the Middle Ages. The French ships also carried wine, and the parish has had a long association with it, placed within the Vintry ward (of which Goody Alsop was an elder), one of the twenty-five wards of the City of London. It also has some of the oldest parish records in the country, going back to 1535. Hugh Plat, who tipped off George Chapman about a mysterious manuscript in John Dee’s possession, lived in the area, and Susanna Norman is recorded as the parish midwife.

St. James Garlickhythe, Garlick Hill, London EC4V 2AF

The Royal Exchange

“The Royal Exchange.” I turned to him in excitement. “At night! You remembered.” . . .

We entered through the wide arches next to the bell tower topped with a golden grasshopper. Inside, I turned around slowly to get the full experience of the four-storied building with its hundred shops selling everything from suits of armor to shoehorns. Statues of English monarchs looked down on the customers and merchants, and a further plague of grasshoppers ornamented the peak of each dormer window.

Diana got her wish and was able to see the original Tudor Royal Exchange at night, atmospherically lit with lanterns, and dancers enjoying the music put on by merchants for the customers. The Royal Exchange was founded by the influential and wealthy merchant Sir Thomas Gresham in the 1560s. It was officially opened in 1571 by Elizabeth I, to be used as a center of commerce and trade, the first of its kind in the city. The ornamental grasshoppers Diana noticed on the building were from the Gresham family crest, and the weather vane of the Royal Exchange today (which is the third incarnation, the previous two buildings having been destroyed by fire) is still a golden grasshopper, in honor of its founder.

The Royal Exchange, London EC3

The Barbican

The closer we got to the apothecary’s place of business, the colder the air felt. Just as at St. Paul’s, there was another surge of power, but an oppressive atmosphere of poverty and desperation hung over the neighborhood. An ancient tower crumbled on the northern side of the street, and the houses around it looked as though a gust of wind might carry them away. Two youths shuffled closer, eyeing us with interest, until a low hiss from Pierre stopped them in their tracks.

Diana visited John Chandler, the apothecary living to the north of the City walls, in an area known then and now as the Barbican in honor of the Roman gateway that once stood there. It was the site of a Jewish community in the twelfth century, including their burial ground, as Matthew explained to Diana. By the Elizabethan era, it was an insalubrious neighborhood, home to thieves, prostitutes, and outcasts. But writers and actors also lived there, perhaps drawn by the relatively low rent. Today the Barbican is a modern residential and arts complex, with echoes of its past in street names such as Jewin Street, as well as ruins of the City’s ancient Roman walls still visible alongside the medieval church of St. Giles Cripplegate. If you want an even better sense of London’s history the Museum of London is also nearby.

St. Giles Cripplegate Church, Fore Street, Barbican, London EC2Y 8DA

Museum of London, 150 London Wall, London EC2Y 5HN

Bedlam

Bedlam was an oubliette in all but name—a place for forgetting, where the insane were locked up with those interred by their own families on some trumped-up charge simply to be rid of them. With nothing but straw for bedding, no regular supply of food, not a shred of kindness from the jailers, and no treatment of any sort, most inmates never escaped. If they did, they rarely recovered from the experience.

Bedlam, or Bethlem, was founded in 1247 as a hospital for the poor by the Order of St. Mary of Bethlehem. By the fifteenth century, it had gradually come to house the insane. Still functioning as such more than six hundred years later, it is Europe’s oldest surviving psychiatric hospital. When Diana visited in 1591, she was admitted by the master in charge of the institution at the time, Master Sleford, and the hospital was still on its original site, located just outside the City walls near Bishopsgate. Diana saw for herself the appalling conditions of the place, so notorious that the name Bedlam entered the English language as a word meaning uproar and confusion. By the 1660s the buildings were so decayed that they were demolished, and a new hospital was built in 1675–76 just north of London Wall in Moorfields. It has continued to move farther out of the city over the centuries, and Bethlem Royal Hospital is now in the suburbs of southeast London. Recent archaeological work carried out at Liverpool Street station has uncovered a sixteenth-century mass grave, thought to contain the remains of former Bedlam inmates, giving still more evidence of the place’s dark history. It is an institution that has had a particular impact on the lives of daemons in London and England.

See also: CREATURES: Daemons

The Thames & the Frost Fairs

Matthew shared his memories of the city during the course of the afternoon as the tide rose and fell. He told me about the time in the fifteenth century when the Thames froze for more than three months—so long that temporary shops were built on the ice to cater to the foot traffic.

Though the river Thames in London is a tidal estuary, it does sometimes freeze over. During the early modern period, Europe experienced widespread climate change. Known at times as the Little Ice Age, this drop in temperatures led to a decrease in arable land and poor harvests. But challenges like these could sometimes provide opportunity. When the river froze, it drove London’s busy watermen out of business as they could not ply their oars—or their trade—shuttling passengers from the playhouses of Southwark to the City. Instead people walked across the ice. And in a city that was full of trade regulations, this new expanse of frozen river enabled the establishment of a free-market zone of shops, dramatic entertainments, temporary pubs and eating establishments—you name it. These moments of hard freeze were called Frost Fairs, and sometimes artists preserved them on canvas, as in the freeze of 1683–84 (pictured below). The incident Matthew referred to was in 1410, when the Thames froze for fourteen weeks.

Greenwich Palace

The fourth-floor tower room in Greenwich Palace afforded a sweeping view of the gray river, muddy ground, and England’s stormy skies. In spite of the many windows, the silvery morning light did little to dispel the heaviness of the room, which was resolutely masculine and early Tudor in its furnishings. The carved initials on the ceiling—an intertwined H and A for Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn—indicated that the room had been decorated around the time of Elizabeth’s birth and seldom used since.

The grand Tudor Greenwich Palace, or the Palace of Placentia as it was called, became one of the principal royal residences when Henry VII took power, replacing a medieval royal manor. In Henry VIII’s reign, Greenwich was a particular favorite, witnessing many of the highs and lows of his rule: lavish banquets and Christmas celebrations, including one of the first masquerades in the kingdom and knightly tournaments in the tiltyard. Henry VIII was injured and almost died during one of the jousts. In the same tiltyard, Diana had her near-fatal encounter with Louisa de Clermont and Kit Marlowe. Henry’s daughter Elizabeth was born at Greenwich. Later it was where her mother, Anne Boleyn, was arrested for adultery and from where she was taken by barge downriver to the Tower of London. The palace was demolished in the seventeenth century, and there is a marker on the site, where the Greenwich Old Royal Naval College now stands.

Old Royal Naval College, King William Walk, Greenwich SE10 9NN

John Dee’s Library, Mortlake

Dee owned more books than any of the Oxford or Cambridge colleges, and he required a working library—not one for show. Not surprisingly, the most precious commodity was not light or seating but shelf space. To maximize what was available, Dee’s bookshelves were freestanding and set perpendicular to the walls. The simple oak bookshelves were double-faced, with the shelves set at varied heights to hold the different sizes of Elizabethan books. Two sloped reading surfaces topped the shelves, making it possible to study a text and then accurately return it.

John Dee’s house in Mortlake, where Diana and Matthew viewed his enormous collection, has long since been destroyed. The modern flats now standing there are appropriately called John Dee House. The All Souls descriptions of his library, which sixteenth-century scholars from all over Europe visited, were based on the Old Library at Trinity Hall, Cambridge. As Diana observed, Dee’s library would not have looked like those we are familiar with today but would have been built for practicality of storage and study.

According to Dee, he possessed nearly three thousand books and a thousand manuscripts on a huge variety of subjects, from alchemy to mathematics and astronomy, including the treasured book he called Roger Bacon’s Verum Secretum Secretorum (which Diana knew was really the Book of Life). When the Dees went traveling in Europe in the 1580s, Dee entrusted his brother-in-law as caretaker for his precious library. Sadly, Dee came home to a decimated collection, with a huge number of books sold off, stolen, and lost to him forever. Scholars have since located many of the volumes that once belonged to Dee, now scattered in various collections and identifiable by his distinctive annotations and doodles in the margins (including the Dee “pointing finger”). The Royal College of Physicians in London holds the largest collection of his annotated books. It is through these notes and illustrations that we are given a glimpse into the mind of this enigmatic scholar.

See also: CHARACTERS: John Dee

Richmond Palace

My first glimpse of Richmond Palace was the top of a creamy stone tower, the royal standard snapping in the breeze. More towers soon appeared, sparkling in the crisp winter air like those of a castle out of a fairy story.

Only a few traces remain of this once-famous palace, built in 1501 by Henry VII on the banks of the Thames to the west of the city of London. It was another of Elizabeth I’s principal residences, where she enjoyed having plays performed for her, and where she died in 1603. The palace was eventually sold off and slowly dismantled following the English Civil War in the mid-seventeenth century. Elements of the original structure remain in buildings still visible today, such as the Gate House, the Wardrobe, and Trumpeter’s House (which takes its name from two statues of trumpeters believed to have originally adorned the old palace’s Middle Gate). At the time of Diana’s visit to Elizabeth’s court, it would have looked like this image.

The Gate House, Bessant Drive, Richmond, Greater London TW9 4EN

Trumpeter’s House, Old Palace Yard, Richmond, Greater London TW9 1PD

Mayfair

Mayfair, St. James, and the Mall

In Elizabethan times these areas of London were nothing more than fields and a few houses. Now they contain some of the priciest real estate, the finest hotels, and the most luxurious boutiques in London. As the City outgrew its walls and spread toward Westminster in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, these areas became prized residential enclaves. It’s not surprising that the de Clermont family put down roots here.

Clairmont House

“This cannot be my house, Leonard.” The palatial brick mansion’s expansive five-windowed frontage and towering four stories in one of London’s toniest neighborhoods made it inconceivable. I felt a pang of regret, though. The tall windows were trimmed in white to stand out against the warm brick, their old glass winking in the midday sunshine.

Matthew Clairmont’s suitably luxurious house in modern-day Mayfair is a grand Georgian building that has remained unchanged since it was built. It is filled with museum pieces that Phoebe Taylor can scarcely believe are still in use. The bright entrance hall, with its curved staircase leading the eye up to the domed skylight, was built to impress, and when Ysabeau opened the door to the Forest Room, Diana gasped as she took it all in. The inspiration for Matthew’s Mayfair home is now the exclusive private gambling club the Clermont Club, and only members can gain access to the interior. It was built in the mid-eighteenth century by the architect William Kent for Lady Isabella Finch, later purchased by Lord Clermont (the Irish peer William Fortescue, 1st Earl of Clermont) on her death, and much praised at the time for its stunning interiors, including the staircase.

The Clermont Club, 44 Berkeley Square, Mayfair, London W1J 5AR

See also: DECORATIVE ARTS: The Forest Room

Sotheby’s

Phoebe found the quiet at Sotheby’s Bond Street offices unsettling this Tuesday night.

The prestigious auction house, where Phoebe Taylor first encountered Marcus Whitmore, has been one of the world’s premier sources for fine and decorative arts, rare books and manuscripts since 1744. The Sotheby’s Institute of Art is known for its programs in art education and connoisseurship. Ysabeau de Clermont has a special relationship with the president of Sotheby’s.

Sotheby’s, 34-35 New Bond Street, London W1A 2AA

The Wolseley

A slice of Battenberg cake with a moist pink-and-yellow checkerboard interior and canary-colored icing sat before me at our secluded table at the Wolseley, along with still more contraband black tea.

Hamish Osborne’s favorite breakfast spot in London, built as a grand car showroom in the 1920s, is a wonderful place to visit at any time of day for a bite to eat and a drink. The sumptuous afternoon tea is a particular English treat.

The Wolseley, 160 Piccadilly, London W1J 9EB

Allens of Mayfair

“Diana’s neighbors are wealthy and paranoid. There hasn’t been any activity at the house for nearly a year. Suddenly there are people around at all hours and Allens of Mayfair is making daily deliveries.”

Located just a few blocks from the Clermont Club, Allens of Mayfair was a well-known traditional butcher, one of the oldest in London, dating back to the mid-nineteenth century. Sadly, since the publication of the trilogy, the shop has closed and now trades online only. Everything is of the highest quality—perfect for vampire palates.

Allens of Mayfair, 117 Mount Street, London W1K 3LA

The Connaught

From the old Allens of Mayfair shop, you will be able to see the Connaught. The house Matthew gave Diana is near this hotel, and Diana figured out that Matthew and the chef had agreed on a trade of fine wine for food fit for humans. In reality the Connaught’s wine cellar is excellent—they need no help from Matthew! If you are looking for a splurge, order a pot of tea or enjoy a glass of red wine by the fire in the hotel’s Coburg Bar.

The Connaught, Carlos Place, Mayfair, London W1K 2AL

For more information visit: www.the-connaught.co.uk

Pickering Place

“Pickering Place?” Unable to stop myself, I traced the letters of Matthew’s signature with my finger.

“Marcus’s house over by St. James’s Palace. It was a gift from Matthew, I understand. He lived there before he built Clairmont House,” Phoebe said.

Marcus’s present-day London house is tucked away from the main thoroughfare of St. James’s Street. For a bit of timewalking, you just need to duck your head and step into the timbered alley, through to Pickering Place, where the secluded courtyard, once notorious for gambling dens, looks as it did in the eighteenth century. Standing in the quiet courtyard by the armillary sphere, you can decide which of the eighteenth-century town houses belongs to Marcus.

Pickering Place, London SW1A 1EA

Berry Bros. & Rudd

Just a few yards from Pickering Place is the wine store where Matthew and Hamish shop. The store was established in 1698 by Widow Bourne, whose son-in-law, James Pickering, built Pickering Court (as it was known then). It is still operating from the same shop hundreds of years later. Berry Bros. & Rudd has a small selection of wine on display and enormous cellars where they store the bulk of their wares, with something for every level of bank account. A sloping wooden floor tells the tale of how barrels were rolled into the shop in days gone by.

Berry Bros. & Rudd, 3 Saint James’s Street, London SW1A 1EG

The Royal Society

I looked up from my manuscript. The Royal Society’s reading room was flooded with summer sunshine. It raked through the tall, multipaned windows and spilled across the generous reading surfaces.

Across Pall Mall, at Carlton House Terrace, is the sixth home of the Royal Society, where Diana attempts to go back to some normality with her research at the end of The Book of Life. Matthew would have had scientific conversations at all the previous locations, and he knew many of its most famous members, such as Isaac Newton. The organization, which was officially founded after receiving a royal charter in 1662, was given the name The Royal Society for Improving Natural Knowledge and adopted the motto Nullius in verba, understood as “Take nobody’s word for it.” The Royal Society puts on excellent exhibitions on all aspects of scientific inquiry that are open to the public.

The Royal Society, 6-9 Carlton House Terrace, London SW1Y 5AG

Prague, Czechoslovakia

The Prague to which Matthew and Diana traveled in the sixteenth century was a city teeming with talented artists and scholars from all over Europe, who were drawn to the court of Rudolf II in Prague Castle. The eccentric Holy Roman emperor Rudolf II greatly enriched Prague during his reign by patronizing the arts and scholarship, however politically inept he might have been. Rudolf’s love of the occult also made the city an otherworldly oasis for all creatures at that time, witches and daemons in particular. The Congregation fed Rudolf whatever he wanted, be it works of art or women, to keep him on their side. Considering Rudolf’s wide range of intellectual interests and his dedicated pursuit of the philosopher’s stone, it is not surprising that Diana and Matthew’s search for the Book of Life led them to his court and famed cabinet of curiosities.

As Jack Blackfriars pointed out to Diana, in this period Prague was formally made up of four independent towns that were eventually united in the eighteenth century to form the city: Staré Město (Old Town), Hradčany (the Castle District), Nave Město (New Town), and Malá Strana (Little Quarter), where Diana and Matthew’s house was situated. Many of the historic streets and buildings they would have passed in this district can still be seen today.

Three Ravens on Sporrengasse, Malá Strana District

After we’d lived out of saddlebags and a single shared trunk for weeks, our belongings had arrived three days after we did at the tall, narrow house perched on the steep avenue leading to Prague Castle known as Sporrengasse. Our German neighbors presumably dubbed it Spur Street because spurs were the only way you could persuade a horse to make the climb.

This house in Prague in the Malá Strana district, on a steep street leading to the castle, was the inspiration for Diana and Matthew’s home. From the mid-eleventh century, the inhabitants of the neighborhood had been predominantly German craftsmen and merchants, as well as Italians (like the women Diana met in the market). The name for their house derived from the symbol of three ravens above the door. Following a huge fire in 1541, much of the district was destroyed and rebuilt, and residents put different symbols on the houses to distinguish them. If you walk down what the German inhabitants once called Sporrengasse (now renamed Nerudova Street), you can still see the Red Lion, the Golden Star, the White Swan, and the Two Suns above the entrances to the old houses, just as Diana did as she rode uphill toward the castle to meet Rudolf.

I was climbing the hill to Prague Castle when I looked across the street and said, “That’s where Diana and Matthew lived in 1591.” I then stood and looked and took pictures for about twenty minutes. The house is probably a bit too recent to satisfy an architectural historian (it might not have been built until c. 1605), and no doubt the façade has been restored, but this is what I think of when I imagine their house in Prague.

The Donkey and Cradle

“The Donkey and Cradle meets our needs at present, Master Roydon.” Mistress Kelley issued forth an awe-inspiring sneeze and took a swig of wine. “We had thought the emperor would set aside a house for us in the palace itself, given Edward’s work, but this will do.”

What was once the Kelleys’ home in Prague, and where Diana and Matthew visited them, still stands today, with the tower and its spiral staircase dating from the sixteenth century. It now exists as the Museum of Alchemists and Magicians, for tourists to experience the mysteries of sixteenth-century alchemy.

Jánský vršek 8, 118 00 Malá Strana, Prague

The Jewish Town

Then we crossed over a wide street and passed through a gate into the Jewish Town. More than five thousand Jews lived in this small enclave smashed between the industrial riverbank, the Old Town’s main square, and a convent.

At the time Diana and Matthew visited Rabbi Loew in the Jewish Town (also known as Josefov and the Jewish Ghetto), it was an incredibly compact, crowded area of Prague. The meandering route they were forced to take through the streets gave Diana a peek into the cramped conditions in which the city’s Jews lived. The roads at least were paved, thanks to the generosity of Mordechai Maisel, the prosperous Jewish merchant connected to Rudolf’s court who escorted Diana back from her visit there.

The period of Rabbi Loew, and later into the seventeenth century, was generally known as a time of growth and safety for the Jews in Prague. In the rest of Europe, rulers and their populace were dangerously prone to persecute the minorities in their midst. Even in Prague, Jews were still required to wear a yellow marker (a ring) stitched into their clothes, which Rabbi Loew observed to Diana was better than the yellow hats they’d been required to wear previously. The grave of Rabbi Loew can still be seen in the Jewish cemetery and became a focus of devotion for many following his death.

See also: CHARACTERS: Mordechai Maisel, Rabbi Judah Loew

I visited Prague when I was researching locations for Shadow of Night and snapped lots of photos of the places that feature in the book. These are some I took of the Jewish Town: the back of the Old New Synagogue, which was completed around 1207, and an old metal sign near Herr Maisel’s house indicating a synagogue.

Prague Castle and Hradčany District

The castle was even larger and more sprawling at close range than it had appeared at a distance, like an entirely separate city full of trade and industry. Ahead were the Gothic pinnacles of St. Vitus Cathedral, with round towers punctuating the walls. Though built for defense, the towers now housed workshops for the hundreds of artisans who made their home at Rudolf’s court.

The extensive site of Prague Castle dates to the end of the ninth century, with successive rulers rebuilding and adding onto the massive castle complex through the centuries. After the fire in 1541 that destroyed much of Malá Strana, the castle, too, suffered damage, and new Renaissance buildings were added. As the official home of the Czech Republic’s president, it remains the seat of power today and is surrounded by the Hradčany district (made up of many old aristocratic palaces). The castle was Rudolf’s main residence during his reign and was the cultural center not only of Prague but of his whole empire.

When Diana and Matthew first entered the place, Diana was in wonder at the activities going on in the various rooms they passed, with voices in German, Spanish, Latin, or Czech engaged in heated discussions. Rudolf, as Matthew said, preferred not to live in the drafty old palace and constructed the new northern wing, including the Spanish Hall. When the emperor took Matthew and Diana through his extensive storerooms and cabinet of curiosities, Diana could see the building works for his improvements and additions through a window—most important, the new rooms designed to display Rudolf’s treasured art collection. Gallowglass also acted as tour guide for Diana, showing her the delights of the castle and its precincts. One place they were not allowed, however, was the Powder Tower, where Edward Kelley worked over his crucibles and alembics. The tower survives, and you can stand outside and look up, as Diana and Gallowglass did, imagining what alchemical secrets the daemon was uncovering.

The great Vladislav Hall, where Diana and Matthew staged their entertainment for Rudolf, was built at the end of the fifteenth century during the reign of Vladislav II. The huge and impressive room, with its high ceiling made up of a complex stone vaulting system, was used for banquets and other important royal celebrations. This included on occasion tournaments. For this purpose the Knights’ Staircase leading into the room was built wide enough to accommodate horses, and Matthew himself once rode up them for a joust.

Pražský hrad, 119 09 Prague 1

Amsterdam, the Netherlands

Matthew’s house in Amsterdam turned out to be a seventeenth-century mansion on the most beautiful stretch of the Herengracht. He had, Matthew explained, bought it right after he left Scotland in 1605.

The Herengracht Canal, with its unique light and beautiful architecture, was where the most prosperous citizens of Amsterdam built their houses, and therefore a fitting location for a de Clermont residence. Matthew bought his house there at a time when trade was flourishing and the city was coming into the height of its prosperity.

New Haven, Connecticut, USA

New Haven and its prestigious Yale University, where Diana is a professor of history, is a key place in her life. Here she was able to use the resources of the world-famous Beinecke Library to continue her search for the missing Ashmole pages, while Matthew and Miriam worked with Chris in his lab to unlock the genetic mystery of Matthew’s blood rage. Surprises from Diana’s and Matthew’s past also turned up here, with revelations about just how closely the de Clermonts have been involved in Diana’s life even before she met Matthew.

Court Street House

Living in New Haven with Matthew was going to require some adjustment. My little row house on the tree-lined, pedestrians-only stretch of Court Street was far more spartan than any of the residences we’d occupied over the last year, whether in the present or the past.

Diana’s less luxurious but still beautiful house is one of these late nineteenth-century Court Street row houses. Jack Blackfriars turned up at the end of this pedestrians-only New Haven street, now a young man and a vampire who’d been waiting centuries for his reunion with Diana and Matthew.

Court Street, New Haven, Connecticut

Gallowglass’s Condo

“When did you buy your condo on Wooster Square, Gallowglass?” I asked, finally getting around to one of many questions about the de Clermonts and their relationship to New Haven.

“After you came here as a teacher,” Gallowglass said.

Gallowglass has been watching over Diana since she was a child and is tightly bound to every important location in her life. The converted church he bought in New Haven so he could observe her comings and goings as a faculty member would look something like this former church (now living space) on Greene Street.

The Gables at Wooster Square, 339 Greene Street, New Haven, Connecticut 06520

Yale

Afterward we strolled the paths of the residential colleges while the carillon played in Harkness Tower. College and town were just beginning to swell with returning students who shouted greetings across the quad and shared complaints about reading lists and class schedules.

As Diana and Matthew walked through the grounds of Yale, Diana was happy to be back in her old haunts. Harkness Tower is typical of the Collegiate Gothic-style buildings that make up the Yale campus. Though there is no direct connection to Deborah Harkness, there may be a distant one—the name speaks for itself!

Harkness Tower, 74 High Street, New Haven, Connecticut 06510

See also: ORGANIZATIONS: Yale University

Beinecke Library

He looked over his shoulder at the Beinecke. “I know the library is an architectural treasure, but I still think it looks like an ice-cube tray.”

Yale’s library, so different architecturally from the rest of the university, played a vital role in Diana’s search for the Book of Life. It is here that she was able to study the mysterious copy of the Voynich manuscript (or Beinecke MS 408) and piece together clues about where the other two missing pages of Ashmole 782 could possibly be. As with so many things in the All Souls world, modern style and design are combined with ancient scholarship in the Beinecke building.

Beinecke Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Yale University, 121 Wall Street, New Haven, Connecticut 06511

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA

New Orleans is the vibrant and disreputable playground of Marcus Whitmore. This city, steeped in history and mysticism, was an appropriate backdrop for him to raise hell with his mad brood of children after the Louisiana Purchase at the beginning of the nineteenth century. The city’s free spirit and dark, Gothic edge is a place for all creatures to let loose, yet even in New Orleans the excesses of Marcus’s children could not go unnoticed. The witches of the city wanted him gone, but it wasn’t until Matthew arrived with Juliette Durand that their antics were halted. The place does not hold good memories for Matthew. There he was forced to cull the dangerous family that Marcus had unknowingly infected with blood rage, and there he had to seek forgiveness from those who had survived. To this day the sensory experiences of New Orleans—of food, jazz, and bourbon—are irresistible to all creatures with a taste for self-indulgence and hedonism.

The Domino Club, Royal Street

The Domino Club on Royal Street hadn’t changed much since Matthew had first walked through its doors almost two centuries ago. The three-story façade, gray walls, and crisp black-and-white–painted trim was the same, the height of the arched windows at street level . . .

The Domino Club on Royal Street has been run by Marcus’s surviving son, Ransome Fayrweather, as a private gentleman’s club since it first opened in 1839. A considerable number of its patrons signed up then, with its other private members carefully chosen for their ability to lose large sums of money at the gambling tables. LaLaurie Mansion, which the Domino Club was inspired by, is located on Royal Street in New Orleans. It dates back to the 1830s and has its own grisly history worthy of the darkest vampire stories in the city. The first owner, Delphine LaLaurie, became notorious at the time for cruelty to her slaves; when a fire broke out at the house, many of them were discovered locked in a room, victims of brutal torture and murder. A mob subsequently rampaged the house, but Delphine escaped with her husband and children. No one was brought to justice for the crimes.

Matthew’s difficult meeting with Ransome at the Domino Club ultimately mended the feud between them, and Ransome agreed to join the new Bishop-Clairmont scion.

1140 Royal Street, New Orleans, Louisiana 70116

Venice, Italy

Venice is a constant presence in the background of A Discovery of Witches and Shadow of Night, and it finally comes to the fore with Diana’s visit to the Congregation at the end of the trilogy. The city’s canals, vaporettos, lagoon, and architecture, steeped in ancient history and ruthless politics, constitute an important setting for the Congregation and vampire history.

Venice is also a vital hub for modern daemon and witch culture, with its lively art scene, fashion, film industry, and tourism. During events such as carnival in February and the Witches’ Regatta (Regata delle Befane), the creature subcultures rise up and take center stage. Diana’s first visit there coincided with the regatta, marking the feast of the Epiphany on January 6. The gondolas in the regatta, each with a rower dressed as a witch, race in the morning from San Tomà to the Rialto Bridge, with celebrations continuing throughout the day. As Diana knows, the far more exciting race involving dangerous magic takes place at midnight.

Daemons and witches are spread throughout the city, their lodgings dependent on their socioeconomic status. Daemons tend to cluster around the Venetian arsenal or in the textile and art centers in the city. Some of the witches, such as Laura Malipiero, run small pensioni that cater to human tourists and their fellow witches, who overrun them around times such as carnival and the regatta.

The vampire elite, who have come out on top in the brutal power play of the city, own much grander lodgings. Matthew Clairmont, Baldwin Montclair, Gerbert d’Aurillac, and Domenico Michele (who was reborn there) have had palazzos in the city for centuries. Almost all those who were able to get into the real-estate market early have palazzos on the Grand Canal or just off it. These are very lavish, particularly Matthew’s house Ca’ Chiaromonte.

Ca’ Chiaromonte Palazzo, Grand Canal

Ca’ Chiaromonte was an appropriate dwelling for someone like Matthew who had played a pivotal role in Venetian business and political life for centuries. Its three floors, Gothic façade, and sparkling windows screamed wealth and status.

Diana was too preoccupied to appreciate the full beauty of Matthew’s Venetian residence on her first visit to the city. Its magnificent interiors, with lanternlike leaded bay windows overlooking the entrance to the Grand Canal, and rich red and gold decorations, illustrate the de Clermonts’ high standing in Venice. When the weather warms up, there is also the garden to sit in, with Matthew’s pet turtles fighting a losing battle to keep the mosquitoes at bay.

Ca’ Chiaromonte, or Chiaramonte House (named after the Italian translation of Clairmont), is based on the fifteenth-century Palazzo Falier. This was once the palace of Doge Marin Falier (or Marino Faliero), a notorious figure who, after being elected doge, plotted to take absolute power in the city. He paid the price for the coup’s failure and was beheaded in 1355 by the ruling aristocrats and Venetian senate. Today a black shroud still covers the space where his portrait should be in Venice’s Great Council Hall.

Palazzo Falier, Calle Vitturi o Falier, 2917a, 30124 Venice

I was in Venice for the first time doing location research for The Book of Life and had an intrepid native Venetian lady, Bruna, as my guide. Somehow she got us into Palazzo Falier, which remains privately owned and is not usually open to the public. As I was walking through the piano nobile, the impressive main floor, I spied this wonderful carved fireplace—with the motto of Francis I and Christopher Marlowe inscribed: WHAT NOURISHES ME DESTROYS ME. That was all the sign I needed that this should be the model for Matthew’s house in Venice. At the time of writing, you can rent a flat in the palazzo for your holiday and enter through the grand front door to reach it.

Isola della Stella

THE CONGREGATION HEADQUARTERS

The Congregation moved to Venice in 1453 following Constantinople’s fall to the advancing Ottoman navy. Members brought books, precious objects, and records of creature history to the city and purchased an island in the lagoon from the Catholic Church: Isola della Stella (Island of Stars). On it were monastic buildings that were converted to suit the Congregation’s purposes. The original character has remained in the place where they still meet today; the hushed cloisters and the well at the center that once supplied water to those staying there; large, high-ceilinged halls; the vast, ancient monastery library filled with books, papers, and papyri; the Congregation’s meeting chamber (Cella de Novem), a nonagon-shaped room with a domed roof where the nine members of the creature council sit. This council chamber, with its stunning frescoes, mosaics, vaulted ceiling, and gallery where the most precious records are kept, embodies the Congregation’s power. The large oval table at its center is surrounded by high-backed chairs, each marked with specific symbols, the de Clermont ouroboros among them.

The island is protected by powerful magic to turn away prying human eyes, and witches bound powerful spirits to the island to serve as its security force. There are far fewer creatures on the island in the present time than there were in 1453, and only a handful of permanent staff run the place. Congregation members and their personal attendants are welcome there at any time as they conduct official business. Small rooms are available for them, really just converted monastic cells that were once necessary refuges for creatures during time of plague, war, and bad weather. Today most members of the Congregation prefer to reside in their Venetian palazzos or personal lodgings when they are called to town for formal council meetings or to do other business, shuttling back and forth between Venice and the remote island by vaporetto.

There was no single inspiration for the Isola della Stella. Instead it was stitched together from the legends and history of two islands in the Venetian lagoon. One is Poveglia, with its octagonal fort and haunted past. It is now uninhabited but once was used to quarantine plague victims. The other is the island of San Francesco del Deserto, which is still home to a handful of monks.

See also: ORGANIZATIONS: The Congregation

Magic

The magic in the All Souls world spans the breadth of magical possibilities. Witches wield their power in two different ways: magic and witchcraft. Magic is power that a witch simply has and can apply as she or he likes to the elemental world—it is in the heart, not the mind, and is tied to desire. Witchcraft, on the other hand, uses words woven into spells to shape a witch’s power. Some witches, like Sarah Bishop, are more skilled in the craft; others, like Emily Mather, are stronger in elemental magic. Stephen Proctor describes elemental magic as the warp—the strong fibers that make up the world—and the spells of the craft as the weft. They’re both part of one big system.

Much of the practice of magic is related to objects and to the working of spells. Most witches use spells devised by other witches, and these spells are passed down through families in a cherished grimoire, a sort of cookbook for magic. In spells, there is an underlying theory of knot magic that uses the threads of the world to bind and unbind specific powers. These knots are magically embedded in words and ritual, and when a witch recites a spell, it activates these hidden powers.

Every witch has some connection to one of the four elements—earth, air, fire, and water—with most witches having an affinity for earth that provides the basics of herbal magic and the use of spells. Other magical powers linked to the elements include precognition (air), flight (air), finding things that are lost (earth), talking with the dead (earth), transmogrification (water), telekinesis (fire), spell casting (earth), charms (earth), curses (fire), mind reading (fire), telepathy (air) and empathy (fire). Sadly, there is no witchcraft that can heal vampire bites.

Like science, magic is not a set of big concepts or trickery but a way of living, a mode of working, a knowledge that must be mastered and developed. Magic is the equal to science. One is not better, or truer, than the other; both are technologies of power used in different ways.

Diana Bishop tried to deny this magical side of herself and her own central position in the world of witches and magic. But opening Ashmole 782 in the Bodleian and meeting Matthew Clairmont made it impossible for her to ignore those aspects of her identity any longer. For Diana there was no denying her nature. Just as the ribbons of her mother’s spellbinding fell away, so the magical possibilities that make up the world of All Souls were unraveled and Diana gradually learned how to harness her unique power. By tracking her growth and examining all aspects of the world she inhabits, we can understand more fully the magical threads that make up Diana Bishop, weaver and witch.

Magic and Witchcraft: The World of Diana Bishop

The Goddess: Maiden, Mother, and Crone

Diana’s family and fellow witches worship the goddess as a threefold deity composed of the maiden, the mother, and the crone. The maiden represents birth and youth and is symbolized by the waxing moon. The mother represents fertility and power and is symbolized by the full moon. The crone represents wisdom, death, and endings and is symbolized by the waning moon. Each of these representations is identified with a particular Greek moon goddess: Artemis (the Greek version of Diana) for the maiden; Selene for the mother, because she was the mother of Endymion’s children; and Hecate for the crone, because she is associated with the underworld and magic.

The witchcraft in the All Souls world is a combination of several different traditions. There is the medieval and early modern human conception of witchcraft that sees it as the opposite of mainstream Christian beliefs and the evil of devil worship. The “witches” executed in Berwick, Scotland, and Salem, Massachusetts, were victims of this perception of witchcraft. Diana’s ancestors were simply still honoring the traditional deities that had been worshipped long before Christianity, and saw nothing incompatible between their worship of the moon and their worship of the Virgin Mary. Diana’s modern relatives would be classified as neopagans. Neopaganism refers to the contemporary revival of the worship of pre-Christian gods, goddesses, and spirits. Some of Sarah’s beliefs and practices correspond with Wicca, a branch of neopaganism founded in the 1950s by an Englishman named Gerald Gardner. His 1959 book, The Meaning of Witchcraft, helped establish the religion of Wicca, though that name wasn’t used until the 1960s. Since Wicca has no central authority, it is difficult to identify a core set of ideas. In traditional Wicca, however, believers worship both gods and goddesses. Dianic Wicca, developed in the 1970s, focuses on the worship of one goddess, with an emphasis on feminism. Worship of the goddess is celebrated in an annual cycle of seasonal Wiccan festivals. One of these is the autumnal equinox, Mabon. Gillian Chamberlain was shocked to learn that Diana had no plans to celebrate this when Gillian encountered her in Duke Humfrey’s.

Dianic Wicca represents another strand woven into the Bishop family’s beliefs. Diana’s Aunt Sarah invokes the name of the goddess as Christians would invoke the name of God. And despite her lifelong reluctance to practice magic, Diana clearly believes in the divinity of the goddess, taking exception when Matthew characterized the goddess as a “capricious deity”: “Don’t speak ill of the goddess here. . . . I didn’t go to your church and mock your god.” The goddess even seems to look out for those who don’t worship her. Diana felt that she might have influenced their journey back to 1590 so that Matthew could recover from his guilt at causing Philippe’s death.

Diana Bishop is strongly associated with the goddess Diana. She was born on the goddess’s feast day, August 13, when King Tullius of Rome dedicated a temple to the goddess in the mid-sixth century B.C. Like the goddess Diana, who had a twin named Apollo, Diana Bishop had a twin, though he died in the womb and was absorbed into her body. In sixteenth-century Prague, Diana also played the moon goddess Selene, who fell in love with Endymion and eventually bore his children.

Diana’s ties to the goddess became stronger when she begged the goddess to save Matthew after he was critically injured by his former lover Juliette. Diana said she would give anything in exchange for Matthew’s life, and the goddess saved him. But Diana did not discover the price for this until she saw the goddess again in sixteenth-century London. There the goddess informed Diana that the life she was taking in payment for saving Matthew’s was that of Diana herself—not in order to make her die but so that she could live to do the goddess’s work. Shortly before Diana went to the Bodleian to try to retrieve the Book of Life, the goddess appeared and gave Diana a silver arrow shaft—more specifically, she shot it into Diana’s breast, causing it to merge with Philippe’s golden arrowhead and become another one of the gifts and burdens Diana bears in life.

Diana fulfilled her role as the goddess’s agent by executing Benjamin at his hideout in Chelm, drawing the goddess’s arrow from her spine to bring him down. Philippe later returned the gold-and-silver arrow to Diana, although she was reluctant to take it, and it slipped once again into her back, nestled against her spine. “Your work is not done, daughter,” Philippe told Diana. “Someone must see that justice is done.”

Ghosts

The ghost of Philippe de Clermont is always drifting around Sept-Tours, watching over Diana and Matthew, along with Emily and Rebecca Bishop. Diana is used to being surrounded by ghosts, having grown up in the magical Bishop house in Madison, and they are embedded in nearly all the locations of the All Souls world. Ghosts are invisible and diaphanous, which Philippe hates the most, because it reminds him how inconsequential he has now become. But they can appear to the living, usually witches and creatures with a sensitivity to the otherworldly. Contrary to most human myths that ghosts appear when the living need help or redemption, it is only when the living have moved on and let go of the dead that they are able to see them. Thus Diana is the first person to be able to see Philippe once she has defeated Benjamin and absorbed the Book of Life. Sadly, Ysabeau is still not able to see him, which is both a torture and a comfort to him.

Ghosts don’t have substance but leave a trail of phosphorescence in their wake, linking where they have just been to where they are going, and they are made up purely of memories and heart. Just as other imprints of the past are woven into the fabric of places, ghosts cross into the present-day world and cause happiness or havoc among the people living there, depending on their emotional baggage. Some witches possess special abilities to converse with the dead, as Diana does. But summoning spirits, a skill connected with the darker magics, can be a dangerous art, as Emily Mather tragically discovered.

Elemental Magic

Every witch has inherited some degree of power over one or more of the four elements: earth, air, fire, and water. Sarah had told Diana that elemental magic and the craft are separate, but her father explained that they are inextricably linked. Elemental magic is the framework, with the craft and spells woven around it to create the overall tapestry of magical power in the world.

Matthew has identified elemental markers in a witch’s DNA that indicate the specific elements an individual witch is able to manipulate, passed down through his or her ancestry. Most witches have the earth marker, which provides some ability to work herbal magic and the power to affect growing things. A witch with the power of air can raise a witchwind (something the witches of sixteenth-century London used to turn back the Spanish Armada); a witch with the power of water can command witchwater; and a witch with the power of fire can command witchfire. Witchfire is lethal—no spell can ward it off, and no witchcraft can heal the burns. The goddess is always present when witchfire is called, as she was when Diana used it against the dangerous vampire Juliette Durand.

It became clear just how special a witch Diana is when Matthew received the analysis of her DNA. All four elemental markers are present in her blood—something that is very, very rare. As Goody Alsop explained to Diana later, it does not mean she holds the power within her over all four elements—this would be too much for any witch to contain and keep in balance. Rather the goddess has given her the blessing to borrow the powers of each when she needs to, without controlling them absolutely. This explains why these abilities come and go for Diana. When Diana returned from 1591, Sarah saw the five points of a pentacle on her wrist and hand: the brown, yellow, blue, and red streaks representing earth, air, water, and fire, with the green on her thumb associated with the goddess.

The concept of the four elements as the framework of a witch’s magic and power ties in to ancient ideas of philosophy, magic, and science. The elements were viewed as the building blocks of the world in systems of astrology, alchemy, magic, and many different aspects of science, including medicine, from the classical period. These four, along with a fifth element known as quintessence or aether, were particularly influential in European medieval natural philosophy and alchemy. In the early sixteenth century, the Renaissance scholar Paracelsus (a famous physician, alchemist, and occultist) brought these ancient concepts into his own model of the Elementals, mythic beings that embodied the four elements. In his alchemical work Liber de Nymphis, Sylphis, Pygmaeis et Salamandris et de Caeteris Spiritibus (A Book on Nymphs, Sylphs, Pygmeis, Salamanders, and on Other Spirits), they were depicted as a Gnome (earth), Undine (water), Sylph (air), and Salamander (fire), and this symbolism was widespread in alchemy from the Renaissance. Diana was delighted when Matthew presented her with the beautiful salamander necklace in sixteenth-century Prague, knowing that it represented fire.

The four elements are also central to many modern neopagan and Wiccan beliefs today; each element is associated with certain traits, with all physical and spiritual substances embodying a balance of these. Aether or spirit, the fifth element, unites the four. This is symbolized by the neopagan five-pointed star, or pentacle, as represented on Diana’s hand and wrist. Many also associate the four elements with the compass points of north, south, east, or west (the corresponding points and elements varying on where the neopaganism is being practiced).

In astrology each element is linked to a particular sign of the zodiac, and represents certain characteristics: Earth, steady practicality and nurturing fertility, is the characteristic of Capricorn, Taurus, and Virgo. Air, connected with the intellect, drives Libra, Aquarius, and Gemini. Fire, energy, and creativity are dominant in the signs of Aries, Leo, and Sagittarius. Water, symbolizing emotions and empathy, lies with Pisces, Cancer, and Scorpio.

Third Eye

The third eye is a key part of Diana’s intuition and connection to the world. Every witch has one, located in the forehead just above the brows and between the two physical eyes. Once opened and alert, it gives sight beyond the ordinary, reading a person or a situation beneath the veil of appearance. Diana’s third eye is activated in situations where a deeper perception is needed, usually to understand whether someone is telling the truth or not. Diana can also “look” under the surface layer of things with her third eye, as she does with an unbroken egg in Shadow of Night to see if it is fertilized. She is able to distinguish a person’s aura more fully, and communicate with other witches. She sees the magic in the places around her through her third eye as colors and hues, the colored threads tying her as a weaver to the elements of magical power in the world.

The third eye is another ancient concept in myth and religion worldwide, associated with visions or clairvoyance. People who claim to use their third eye are often perceived as seers, and many witches in the All Souls world are gifted with second sight, as was Diana’s mother, Rebecca. In modern Wicca a person’s third eye is an important energy point and linked to the color indigo (Diana’s third eye is described as blue). It is related to a person’s intuitive gifts, as well as openness, empathy, and self-awareness. Scientists, too, have speculated about the evolution of the pineal gland (still active in some animals) in the human brain. Often known as nature’s first eye, it has always been connected with ancient myths of the third eye. There is still much that is unknown about the pineal gland’s influence and power over human reactions and intuition.

Scrying

Elizabeth Jackson, the waterwitch in sixteenth-century London, was a gifted seer who was brought in to train Diana in the art of scrying. Scrying is a method of divination using a reflective or shiny device. It is an art used by witches gifted with second sight in the All Souls world, as well as by certain unruly daemons such as Edward Kelley. Various techniques and apparatus can be used. For example, the waterwitches of London used scrying bowls filled with water to divine the fact that the weaver coming to them would have water in her veins. Emily Mather used a scrying stone to summon spirits of the dead, which is what she was attempting when she confronted Peter Knox and Gerbert d’Aurillac.

Scrying has roots going far back across ancient cultures in history. Translucent, reflective, or luminescent substances were commonly used, including water, stones, crystals, and mirrors. The resulting visions were often believed to be from the subconscious or from conjured spirits, dark and light. One of the most famous scryers in history was, of course, John Dee’s assistant Edward Kelley. Dee’s aim was nothing less than to uncover the mysteries of the natural world and its apocalyptic end. When his experiments and extensive collection of books did not provide that knowledge, he employed scryers as a conduit to the celestial angels who would unlock the secrets he craved. Dee carefully documented their long, grueling scrying sessions. In their “conversations with angels,” Dee sought guidance on a vast range of subjects, from mathematics to astrology. Wherever Kelley’s inspiration and visions came from, Dee seems to have believed enthusiastically in his talents—even when Kelley received the infamous message that they were to share everything, even their wives. This marked the beginning of the end of the Dees’ and Kelleys’ relationship, however.

The reflective objects Dee used in the angel conversations were called showstones. These were a “great Chrystaline Globe,” a “stone in the frame,” and a stone Dee believed had been left by angels in his oratory window in Mortlake. This third stone, which Dee set in gold and intended to wear around his neck, he thought to be the most powerful, and only Dee was allowed to touch it. A fourth stone, a black obsidian mirror that is currently in the British Museum, is also associated with Dee’s angel conversations. But there is no concrete evidence from his diaries that this was used (he made sketches of his showstones, and it is not among them) or in fact that it was ever owned by him.

Brazen Head

The brazen head (or brass head) was a prophetic device reportedly used by medieval and Renaissance wizard scholars. The vampire Gerbert d’Aurillac possessed this legendary tool during his time as Pope Sylvester II. Tales of this head feature in the chronicles of a key historical source of the early twelfth century, William of Malmesbury. Malmesbury describes how the devilishly knowledgeable pope built a talking head that would answer yes or no to questions put to it. Another medieval scholar and monk, Roger Bacon, is famously said to have spent years constructing such a device with his assistant Friar Bungy, although it ultimately proved unsuccessful.

Andrew Hubbard revealed to Diana that it was in fact Matthew’s manipulative son Benjamin who gave Gerbert’s oracle-speaking brass head to Roger Bacon. Benjamin hoped to exchange the oracle for the Book of Life, which Bacon possessed at the time. But Bacon took the head without relinquishing the book, something for which Benjamin always cursed him. The present whereabouts of Gerbert’s brazen head are unknown.

The Craft

White Magic and Higher, Dark Magic

“But Em always said higher magics were too dark for witches to handle safely. . . . She said any witch who thought she was immune to their dangers would find out the hard way just how powerful they were.”

The idea of witchcraft as evil is inextricably bound up with Christian attitudes toward knowledge and power. When the Renaissance reached northern Europe in the sixteenth century, it brought renewed enthusiasm for the intellectual achievements of the ancient Romans and Greeks. The technology of the printing press made their knowledge more accessible than ever before. But the established church saw the growing wave of learning and independent thought as the devil’s work. Printing was actually described as the black art. As ordinary educated people tried to understand the workings of the natural world by pursuing natural magic (what we would consider early science), the church saw this as trespassing on its own sacred vocation of explaining the miracles of God’s creation. All magic, therefore, was seen as evil—the work of the devil.

Mathematics, too, often fell into the category of magic. Some saw it as the language of God, who, according to some biblical passages, created everything on earth abiding by principles of number, weight, and measure. How could such a tool be trusted in the hands of common folk? Others believed the calculations used in astrology and other forms of divination were magic. John Dee used mathematics to cast horoscopes, practice numerology and alchemy, and facilitate his famous conversations with angels. The line between science and magic was thin.

When traditions of medieval and early modern witchcraft were revived in the mid-twentieth century under the rubric of Wicca, magic was no longer viewed as bad in itself. Good magic, or white magic, was distinguished by the practitioner’s intent to do good for others as opposed to benefiting him- or herself. Bad magic, or black magic, was selfish in nature and aimed at obtaining power over others.

In the All Souls world, the terms “white magic” and “black magic” are not used at all. Most witches practice magic in the form of helpful spells, as Sarah Bishop does, to find lost dogs and banish nightmares. A few, such as Diana’s mother, Rebecca, experiment in the more powerful darker or higher magics that can summon spirits and cross the boundary between the living and the dead. But darker magic is not necessarily evil—it is simply more powerful than everyday magic and needs to be used responsibly. Any magic can be evil if it’s in the wrong hands.

Diana Bishop spent most of her life fleeing from her magical birthright. She believed her parents had died because of their involvement with magic and their identities as witches. Her solution was to stay as far away from magic as she could. But her Aunt Sarah reproved Diana when she suggested that the higher, darker magics were inherently evil. “Think about worldly power. In beneficent hands it’s a force for good. But if someone abuses it for personal gain or to harm others, it can be terribly destructive. The darkness depends on the witch.” She also reminded Diana that dark doesn’t necessarily mean evil. What it mainly represents is knowledge. “There is nothing more powerful than knowledge. That’s why we’re so careful when we teach someone dark magic,” said Sarah.

Diana’s acceptance of herself depended on embracing her tremendous innate power. Her visit to the sixteenth century, where magical knowledge and scientific knowledge existed side by side, was crucial in teaching her how to use even dark power for good. It is no coincidence that one of the three items she required to timewalk back to Elizabethan London was the manuscript of Christopher Marlowe’s play The Tragical History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus. The legend of Faust encapsulated Diana’s dilemma as well as the central dilemma of the sixteenth century: What price must be paid for too much knowledge? Faustus had mastered the knowledge available in books and found it insufficient—he wanted the occult knowledge that only magic could provide. He sold his soul to the devil in exchange for twenty-four years of power and (in a parallel with Diana’s parents’ fate) paid the price of being torn to pieces by devils at the end of it.

Diana learned to create her own spells using weaving cords, which later became a part of her body. Initially she balked at exercising the powers of life and death and was unable to kill Benjamin when he seized Phoebe at the Bodleian Library. In Chelm, however, there was no hesitation: Diana deployed her full power and sent the goddess’s magical arrow into Benjamin’s heart.

Grimoires (The Bishop Grimoire)

A grimoire is basically a cookbook of magic, explaining how to create magical objects, perform spells, and even summon spirits. In some cases the grimoire itself was supposed to possess some magical power; this was especially true of handwritten grimoires. Ashmole 782, also known as the Book of Life, was an example of a book that held inherent power. The wizard Peter Knox lusted after Ashmole 782 because he believed it was the very first grimoire, the true source of all the witches’ power over the centuries. He was convinced that the book contained the secret of immortality and how to destroy vampires, which fit neatly into his plan for world domination by witches. In a way Knox was right; the Book of Life did contain the secret of immortality, or at least the continued existence of all creatures.

The use of grimoires goes back to the Mesopotamians and early Egyptians, who inscribed magical incantations on clay tablets or amulets. Some early Christian sects also used grimoires. As Christianity grew more mainstream, the church suppressed books on magic because their link to paganism was a threat to established Christian doctrine. But because religious texts are often perceived to have their own innate power, it was difficult for the church to make a clear distinction between religious devotion and magic.

The term “grimoire” most likely derives from the French word grammaire, which originally referred to a book written in Latin. According to the historian Owen Davies, this is because a book written in Latin would be difficult for most people to read; to say “It is like a grimoire to me” was akin to our modern saying “It’s all Greek to me!” By the eighteenth century, the word was widely used in France to mean a magic book, and in the nineteenth century it began occurring in regular English usage.* In the All Souls trilogy, the term describing how a weaver puts his or her magic into words is “gramarye,” which also derives from “grammaire.”

In the All Souls world, a grimoire is usually a detailed record of every witch family and the spells its members practiced over the centuries. The Bishop grimoire is more than three hundred years old and contains the Bishop family tree back to Rebecca Davies, the grandmother of the famous Bridget Bishop who was executed in Salem, Massachusetts. It also records all the spells that the Bishop family witches practiced over the years, along with annotations regarding each witch’s success—making it much like a family cookbook. As a devoted student of the traditions of witchcraft, Sarah prizes the Bishop grimoire above all things. The only time she allowed it out of the house was on Diana’s thirteenth birthday, when Diana was presented to the coven in a coming-of-age ritual for witches. The young witch was supposed to perform three ceremonial magic spells: lighting a candle, opening a book, and causing a bell to ring. Diana failed miserably, because her elemental powers were spellbound and, because she is a weaver, her talents could not be used to repeat the spells of others but only to create spells of her own.

As a weaver, Diana has little use for grimoires kept by other witches, because she sees spells not in words but in shapes and colors. She can pull on the threads of the world to weave spells that are not in any book. Most witches, however, can only perform the spells of others, which is why so many spells are outdated. As weavers grew scarcer because of persecution by their own kind, the production of new spells ceased. Once the Madison coven learned that Diana could create new spells, they were overjoyed (one witch was particularly keen for a spell that could unfreeze a computer).

The only spells that were not kept in the family grimoire were those that used the higher, darker magics. Witches skilled in the use of these spells kept their own separate grimoire, presumably because the magic was potentially dangerous in the wrong hands.

Herbal

“Herbal magic, the power to affect growing things—the basics. Combined with spell casting, cursing, and charms—or any one of them, really—it means you have not only powerful magical abilities but an innate talent for witchcraft.”

Like the use of grimoires, the practice of herbal magic dates back to ancient civilizations. In Egypt, for example, the healing arts depended on a variety of disciplines that combined knowledge of herbs with alchemy, astrology, and astronomy. Along with amulets and spoken incantations, herbs were used to protect the home from ghosts and spirits.

Well into the Middle Ages, cunning women continued to use traditional methods of herbal healing throughout Europe. Their cures combined magic stones and charms, religious incantations and herbs, some of which were undoubtedly of no use at all, others of which are still used today. Medieval wives in large households kept their own stock of herbs to concoct remedies. As we know, Marthe stored hers in a special stillroom at Sept-Tours, including her recipe for contraceptive tea. Monasteries kept herb gardens, and monks experimented with the herbs described in classical texts, some even writing their own books about herbal remedies. Herbs were one of the few effective tools that medieval physicians and cunning women had, and their study was widely respected.

By the fourteenth century, however, as fear of witchcraft grew, the use of herbs was potentially more suspect. Collecting herbs in a way that smacked of ritual—for example, on certain dates or phases of the moon—could give rise to a charge of witchcraft. Sometimes simply having knowledge of herbs was enough to raise a neighbor’s suspicion. But in general, practicing herbalists did not tend to be accused of witchcraft unless there were other crimes (or grudges) to lay at their doorstep. If there was a suspected poisoning in the area, for example, the herbalist was often the first to be questioned, as knowledge of herbs obviously required knowledge of their poisonous properties as well. There was a long tradition of conflating the herbalist or witch with a poisoner, the mythological witch Circe being a major example. In one story the sea god Glaucus spurned Circe in favor of the nymph Scylla, and Circe revenged herself by poisoning the water where Scylla bathed, turning her into a monster.

The degree of herbal magic used by witches in the All Souls world depends on their individual powers and personal inclinations. In sixteenth-century London, the witch Marjorie Cooper used agrimony to break enchantments, feverfew for protection, rosemary for purification and clarity. Susanna Norman used boneset for protection and groundsel for good health. In the twenty-first century, Sarah Bishop studies the properties of herbs and their uses and has instructed the Madison coven’s children on the elemental associations of flowers, plants, and herbs. She has an entire room dedicated to the drying and storage of magical and medicinal herbs, and has done her best to instruct Diana in their uses as well.

When Sarah and Diana created magical charms, the herbs they used were the herbs of modern Wicca. Diana’s recipe for children’s dream pillows consisted of moonwort pods, agrimony, aniseed, hops, valerian, bay leaf, rosemary, and thyme. Wiccan sites recommend combining moonwort and agrimony when making dream pillows; moonwort is especially recommended for protection from monsters, and agrimony helps overcome fear. Aniseed is said to ward off the evil eye, and bay leaf also is advised for its protective properties. Wiccans place bay leaf in each corner of a room to protect the inhabitants.

In the sixteenth century, Diana was proud to have learned the names and scents of all the herbs in Marthe’s contraceptive tea, then ashamed to realize how little else she knew about them compared with other sixteenth-century women. After exploring her powers as a weaver with the London coven, however, she placed less importance on herbal knowledge. Though she practiced herbal magic with Sarah at the Madison house, Diana became more dismissive of Sarah’s seemingly bottomless knowledge. “Her mastery was born of reading and study. I had learned the limits of book-based knowledge in Mary Sidney’s alchemical laboratory, when I was confronted for the first time with the challenges of doing what I’d spent years reading and writing about as a scholar.”

Spellbinding

In most dictionaries, “spellbound” means “held by a spell” or having your attention held by magic power. This suggests a pleasant experience, but in the All Souls world, being spellbound is anything but enjoyable. For a witch, being spellbound means to be robbed of all her magical powers, leaving her at risk as a nonhuman creature but without any special abilities to protect herself. Spellbinding casts the witch out defenseless into a dangerous world. In early modern Europe, humans believed that being spellbound by a witch could cause a person’s animals to die, his crops to fail, or, as the Malleus Maleficarum pointed out, his penis to disappear (or, just as bad, to appear to have disappeared).

When Diana learned that her own parents had spellbound her at the age of seven, she was shocked and ashamed. “Spellbinding was reserved for extreme circumstances—life-threatening danger, madness, pure and uncontrollable evil. Merely to threaten it earned you the censure of other witches.” Even other creatures understood the opprobrium that being spellbound signified for a witch. But gradually Diana came to understand that she had been spellbound to protect her from others, not the other way around. When Peter Knox attempted to steal the seven-year-old Diana’s magical knowledge, her parents took the only measure they could to keep their daughter safe. Knowing that one day Diana would need her powers back, her mother told her bedtime stories about a little witch named Diana whose fairy godmother wrapped her in invisible ribbons to protect her from the jealousy of other witches. When she was ready, the little witch would shrug off the ribbons and regain her power. When Diana was in the oubliette at La Pierre, she did just that—and flew to safety.

Once Diana had come to terms with her powers as a witch, she was confident enough to contemplate spellbinding others, either for their own good (as in the case of Jack Blackfriars, who was afflicted with blood rage) or for revenge. The witch Satu Järvinen had tortured Diana at La Pierre, and later she thwarted Diana’s efforts to enlist the Congregation’s help to save Matthew from Benjamin. The final straw, however, was threatening Diana’s children. Diana instantly spellbound Satu’s magical powers.

In modern Wicca, binding spells are used in a similar way, mainly to prevent someone from doing harm to themselves or their family. And Wiccans agree that binding spells should be used as a last resort, if at all.

Pentacles

A pentacle is an amulet with a symbol inscribed on it, used to summon supernatural powers. The word may have come from the French word pentacol or pendacol, meaning an ornament that is hung around the neck. The shape was not always a star; for example, the Key of Solomon, a grimoire falsely attributed to King Solomon but written in the fourteenth or fifteenth century, shows several pentacles that are not star shaped. In Wicca and other forms of witchcraft, however, the pentacle refers to a five-pointed star (pentagram) surrounded by a circle. Like other shapes that are composed of a single unbroken line, it is also used to mark off magical enclosures, especially when invoking spirits. During Diana’s forspell, the London witches formed a pentacle using twigs from their brooms, and Catherine Streeter chanted a spell that bound the area with a circle of fire.

When Diana’s weaver’s cords were absorbed into her body, the colors on her right hand came together to form the pentacle-shaped knot with five crossings on her wrist. While Sarah examined it, Diana explained that the fifth knot was what weavers used to cast spells for overcoming challenges or heightening experiences. Tied to Diana’s elemental magic, four of the star’s points represented the four elements: earth, air, fire, and water. The fifth, the green strand from Diana’s thumb, represented the goddess. (In Wicca the fifth point usually represents spirit.) Vivian Harrison, the high priestess of the Madison coven, observed that Diana’s hand constituted a magical primer; with the four elements, the pentacle, and the goddess, it comprised everything a witch needed to work the craft.

Witches are not the only creatures who used pentacles. They were central to John Dee and his daemonic assistant, Edward Kelley, in their conversations with angels. Before the angels imparted their secrets, they instructed Dee to create a magical table and a seal of truth (a nine-inch wax pentacle), engraved with complex designs. Dee was also required to gather talismans, a magical ring, a magic mirror, and a crystal. Edward Kelley sat at the magical table staring into the crystal while Dee sat at another table with a chart made up of forty-nine by forty-nine squares, each containing a letter. In the crystal, Kelley would see an angel holding an identical chart. As the angel indicated one letter at a time, Kelley passed the column and row number to Dee so that he could write it down on his own chart.

Of course, for additional protection from the power of angelic communication, the angels delivered their messages backward so that the magic would not be worked as they uttered the words.

Forspells

A forspell is a weaver’s first spell. Weavers of old cast their forspells as part of a ceremony that reveals the shape of their talents. The ceremony, which relies upon the support of other witches, helps the weaver to face her fears so that she can work her magic freely, and the ritual casting of the forspell often results in the appearance of the weaver’s familiar. Since the ceremony requires surrendering oneself to the unknown, it can be a frightening experience. Knowledge of this ceremony, like knowledge of the very existence of weavers, is hazy at best among present-day witches.

Shepherding Diana through her forspell ceremony required the cooperation of the entire London coven, who all showed up with their own unique brooms. They cleansed the area with salt, grounding the space so that Diana’s power didn’t spill out into the world once it was fully unbound. Once the ceremony had started, Diana saw that the room had filled with threads, “as though the world is nothing more than a tapestry.” Diana’s job was to remain still while Goody Alsop cut the threads, allowing them to return to Diana of their own volition. As Goody Alsop explained, “While some ties fetter your magic, others yoke the power in your blood to the four elements and the great mysteries that lie beyond them. Weavers learn how to release the ties that bind and use the rest.” Since Diana did nothing by halves, however, her forspell resulted in a great deal more, producing a firedrake as her familiar, a full-size rowan tree, and, finally, an appearance by the goddess, who claimed Diana’s life in her service as recompense for saving Matthew’s life in Madison.

Weaving

Weavers

Diana Bishop, Stephen Proctor, Goody Alsop, Agnes Sampson, Abraham ben Elijah, Mother Ursula Shipton, Isobel Gowdie, and Satu Järvinen belong to a rare and powerful type of witch called a weaver. Unlike ordinary witches, weavers cannot use other witches’ spells, so they must learn to create (weave) their own.

Witches are tied to the world around them, and weavers are able to see these connections in strands and hues that are invisible to other creatures. Some ties fetter a witch’s magic while others yoke the power in the witch’s blood to the four elements and the great mysteries that lie beyond them. Weavers learn how to use the ties that bind the world and harness elemental magic to make new spells. They employ gramarye to translate their spells into words that other witches can use—although some spells resist translation, which is why there are a few that only the original weaver can work. Before a weaver can begin creating spells, she or he must first make a forspell, ideally as part of a forspell ceremony, that reveals the shape of their talents and their familiar (weavers are the only type of witch who have a familiar). Once this is done, the weaver can then begin his or her formal training.

Because weavers can create new spells that are useful to other witches, the earliest weavers were highly esteemed in their communities. Eventually, however, there came a time when weavers had created an abundance of useful spells and most witches had less need for their creative abilities. At the same time, they began to resent weavers’ powers and grew suspicious that weavers possessed spells that ordinary witches could not cast.

Weavers also possess one other ability that sets them apart from other witches. Only weavers can conceive a biological child with a vampire, so long as that vampire has blood rage. The Bright Born children of these unions inherit a combination of the qualities of their parents, being neither entirely witch nor vampire but a powerful combination of both creatures. This is what the witches discovered long ago, and it was the secret they sought to keep hidden.

Inspired by their growing fears and resentments of weavers and their Bright Born children, many witches began to hunt down the weavers among them, killing them and their families. Those few who managed to survive sent their children into hiding to keep them safe (weavers do not have a longer life span than normal witches—or even humans, for that matter). For centuries weavers have kept their powers a closely guarded secret from all other creatures—humans, vampires, daemons, and particularly, other witches.

Knot Magic

All magical spells contain knots hidden within them. These knots were made by weavers, who tied together various strands that bind witches to the world in order to fulfill a specific desire or need. Most weavers used specially colored cords to craft their knots, though almost any kind of string will do in a pinch, as the cords are simply tools that witches use to work knot magic. Diana has strands of red, white, black, silver, gold, green, brown, blue, and yellow that she knots to weave her spells. Each color has a meaning, and when making a new spell Diana uses the cords and their meanings to focus on a particular question.

Nearly all witches who practice the craft are familiar with a few simple knots, most notably the slipknot and the double slipknot, which involve relatively few crossings of the cords. But weavers use knots with anywhere from three to nine crossings, depending upon the complexity of the spell. They then magically fuse the two ends of their cords together cleanly and invisibly to complete the spell and make an unbreakable weaving. The tenth knot, which very few weavers can make, is a complete unbroken circle without beginning or end, like the ouroboros. It is seemingly the simplest magic and knot, and it is also the most powerful. It signifies generation and destruction, with power over life and death. Only a weaver who stands between worlds, and therefore possesses the powers of both creation and destruction, can make the tenth knot. Diana Bishop inherited the ability to make it from her parents: her father, a weaver, gave her the power of creation, and her mother, who had an affinity for the darker magics, gave her the power of destruction.

Once any knot is made, it holds the desire of the weaver within it. The weaver uses gramarye, or the power to infuse the power of the knot in words, to hide the knot or knots from view and also to make the magic accessible to other witches. When another witch speaks the spell’s words, she awakens the hidden knots, where the power of the magic and desire is gathered and waiting.

The Rolfsen Knot Table was my inspiration for weavers’ knots, just as the inspiration for Diana’s magic was actually the branch of mathematics called topology—a kind of mathematical alchemy. Topology is the study of spaces and figures that can be stretched and twisted but not torn or stitched together. In other words, it’s the study of how certain objects can be manipulated and transformed—pulled, squashed, distorted—into appearing to be something else, without losing their essential properties or essence.

Glaem

The glaem (an Old English spelling of “gleam,” which is related to the word “glamour”), also known as a chatoiement, is what Gallowglass often sees shining all around Diana. This shimmer of light is a manifestation of her witch’s power. Only the most potent witches have this glow. Humans can sense something different about a witch’s aura, but a glaem is clearer to a vampire’s sharp eyesight, as well as to a daemon’s sensitive perceptions. To avoid attracting too much attention, Diana often has to cover her glaem with a disguising spell.

Familiars

Familiars in the All Souls world are particular only to weavers. They are manifested during a weaver’s forspell and are an extension of that weaver’s talents and power (although not all weavers are blessed with a familiar). Diana’s familiar, Corra, is a firedrake and was brought forth in sixteenth-century London as the witches trained Diana to understand and control her unusual powers.

CORRA

Corra comes from within Diana, taking form when she’s fully released from Diana’s body; the firedrake can cause very real havoc on her surroundings, particularly to Ysabeau’s priceless china at Sept-Tours. As Corra revealed to Diana, she is her but not her. At first Diana found it hard to control Corra, a sign that Diana had not yet learned to control and understand her own magical powers. When Corra’s excursions are over, she becomes smoke and is absorbed back into Diana’s body, though still alert and ready to react when needed. Corra was particularly protective, coiling her tail around Diana’s hips, for instance, after the tiltyard incident with Marlowe and Louisa. Diana’s father’s familiar was a heron called Bennu, reflecting the water in Stephen’s veins. And Goody Alsop’s familiar was a fetch, a shadowy replica of herself and much easier to control than an errant firedrake.

The inspiration for Diana’s familiar, Corra, was taken from seventeenth-century engravings and watercolors. Dragons were a topic of interest to Renaissance natural philosophers, who combed through travel stories and myth to construct elaborate dragon taxonomies.

The idea of a “familiar spirit” or just “familiar” is a common one in European folk tales and witch lore, as well as in modern-day Wicca. Familiars were believed to be supernatural beings, and they took a wide range of forms. Appearing as anything from demons to fairies, but most commonly taking animal form, they served a witch and aided her in her magic. Much can be gleaned from witch trials of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries about earlier beliefs in familiars: Agnes Sampson’s trial in Scotland referred to her use of a familiar, and on the frontispiece for Matthew Hopkins’s Discovery of Witches there are depictions of witches identifying their familiars. The infamous Malleus Malleficarum also refers to how witches “invoke their [personal] devil who always works alongside them in everything they do.” Connected to this idea of the animal helper, the black cat is associated with the stereotype of a modern witch. This animal’s association with magic and the devil is probably related to brutal cat burnings that took place in France from the medieval period up to the nineteenth century. In Wicca today beliefs about familiars tend to focus more on the spiritual connection between a witch and an animal, creating a partnership in their magical practices and everyday life.

GOLEM OF PRAGUE

Yosef, the Golem of Prague, was Abraham ben Elijah’s familiar. At first Abraham didn’t think he would have a familiar, as nothing appeared during his forspell, but he later accidentally created Yosef while weaving a spell to help a woman conceive. Abraham placed the secret name of God into the golem’s mouth, and it came to life. One night Abraham left the golem unattended, and it wandered out of the Jewish Town and frightened Christians in the city, leading the Jews to believe that Yosef’s purpose was to protect them.

In Jewish folklore a golem is an animated being that is created out of inanimate matter, such as clay or mud. In the Talmud, Adam was created as a golem when his dust was “kneaded into a shapeless husk.” In some stories the golem is animated by words written either on its forehead or on a piece of paper that is then placed in its mouth. Modern-day descriptions of the Golem of Prague claim that it was Rabbi Loew who created it and that he did so specifically to protect the Jews of the city after Rudolf II decided to expel or kill them. The golem had attacked and killed a number of Christians before the emperor begged Rabbi Loew to deactivate it. Loew did so only after securing Rudolf’s promise to stop persecuting the Jews, with the understanding that he could always bring it back to life if the emperor broke his promise. A different story says the golem fell in love and became a vicious monster after it was rejected.

Historians generally believe that the legend of the Golem of Prague was invented in Germany in the early nineteenth century. No Hebrew work published between the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries mentions a golem created by Rabbi Loew.

Timewalking

In Diana and Matthew’s world, a few witches have the ability to timewalk. They can leave the present and travel either to the past or the future. This is a genetic ability among witches, inherited through one or both parents. Both Diana and her father, Stephen, are timewalkers. In Diana’s case the ability came to her through her absorbed or vanished twin brother, who had inherited it from their father. This is tied in with something else Matthew discovered in Diana’s DNA; she is a chimera. It is a rare condition in which a person possesses two or more different genetic profiles and genetically distinct types of cells (occurring most commonly with twins). In Greek mythology a chimera is depicted as a hybrid animal, most often a lion with the head of a goat. For Diana, being a chimera means possessing even more magical powers.

Some witches, including Diana, discover that they are able to travel relatively brief distances through space and time. By picking up their feet and using only the fervent desire to be in a particular place and time, they can transport themselves. But to travel long distances back in time as safely as possible, most timewalkers need to steer themselves to the right moment with three objects from the particular destination. So when Diana traveled from modern-day upstate New York to Oxford in 1590, she took an old chess piece, Matthew’s copy of Doctor Faustus, and the pearl earring from Bridget Bishop’s poppet. To travel forward in time, a witch needs witchcraft; it’s the only way to find your way. So to timewalk back to the present, Diana used all nine of her cords and a total of nine different knots.

Time is a substance made up of threads of light and color that timewalkers perceive as a huge, shimmering, gently waving spiderweb. The millions of differently colored strands extend infinitely forward and backward in time. With enough concentration a timewalker can focus on a single twisted thread and follow it to its source. That apparent simplicity masks the knots of possibility that tie an unimaginable number of pasts to a million presents and untold potential futures. This means that for even the most experienced witches, timewalking is dangerous, because the farther the distance, the greater the risk of losing their way among the innumerable strands of pasts, presents, and futures. It is possible to bring another person along, but as Diana discovered when traveling with Matthew, that extra traveler makes the journey much slower and more difficult. Unlike Diana, Matthew is unable to perceive the threads of time. For him time travel is utterly silent and dark. There are some times of the year, particularly on days like All Hallows’ Eve (Halloween), when past and present are close together, making it easier to slip between them. But even on All Hallows’ Eve, timewalking taxes a witch’s powers greatly, and Diana found herself both exhilarated and utterly exhausted once they’d arrived safely in 1590.

We can think of timewalking in the All Souls world as moving between streams (of time). No two versions of the same person can be present in the same timestream because that person is in fact just one person. So when Matthew and Diana journeyed back to the sixteenth century, present-day Matthew stepped into the sixteenth-century stream, temporarily displacing sixteenth-century Matthew. “Old Matthew” did not die—he simply did not exist in that stream of the past until modern-day Matthew went back to the present. Sixteenth-century Matthew did not go anywhere—he and all his memories and experiences remained present and undisturbed inside modern-day Matthew while he was there with Diana. When Matthew and Diana returned to the present, sixteenth-century Matthew then popped right back in place. He had no memory of Diana, because he had never met her and would not, until centuries later in the Bodleian. The other vampires in the sixteenth century, however, knew exactly when they were talking to sixteenth-century Matthew and when they were talking to modern-day Matthew, because modern Matthew smelled unmistakably older.

Matthew and Diana’s timewalk to sixteenth-century London was a critical journey in Diana’s development as a witch. It was only in that period and place that she could begin to understand her powers and find other witches willing and able to teach her how to harness them. Returning to the present day with a beginner’s training in weaving, a firedrake, and a wealth of lost magical knowledge, Diana was then ready to face the challenges that still lay ahead.

My inspiration for time travel is a mash-up of multiverse theory meets the movie Sliding Doors. Multiverse theory is the idea that an infinite number of universes exist in parallel, almost like streams of water or trains on tracks, running alongside each other. And everything that exists is present in all of them, but in different combinations and with different histories, all at the same time. (This idea was first advanced by a physicist, Nobel Prize winner Erwin Schrödinger, in 1952.) There are lots of competing theories about the subject of time travel, all of which have problems. No one knows how it works. Add to that the fact that most timewalking witches aren’t physicists. So what they perceive (i.e., it’s like changing trains, as in Sliding Doors) is not necessarily what truly happens in the world of All Souls. Why? Because there are not only physical laws at work but also magic. Timewalking, therefore, isn’t just a pure question of quantum mechanics. Supernatural agency is at work, too.

Science

The science in the world of All Souls captures the excitement and sense of discovery that has always characterized the study of nature. Through Matthew de Clermont’s long journey to understand who and what he is, the trilogy tracks the development of scientific thought from ancient times to the present. Because of Matthew’s interests, biochemistry in particular is crucial to the story. And as a counterbalance to Matthew, the historian and witch Diana Bishop reminds us that early scientific study had value even when it resulted in erroneous conclusions. From ancient alchemy to modern genetics, the characters of the All Souls trilogy are concerned with understanding the world at its most elemental level.

Rather than looking at abstract notions of science, the trilogy shows scientists at work. In modern universities like Oxford and Yale, as well as in early modern laboratories in London and Prague, scientists pursue questions not only about the world and their place in it but also about how to do the hands-on and mental work necessary to answer those questions.

What better way to look at the role of science in the trilogy than through the eyes of vampire geneticist Matthew Clairmont? A Discovery of Witches introduces us to his laboratory, a private and secure research facility connected to the University of Oxford that works with ancient DNA to study species evolution and extinction. The lab is state of the science in its equipment, computer capabilities, and reputation. Matthew is a well-respected scientist, but he prefers to work in solitude and publish his findings only occasionally, in the most scholarly publications.

A vampire’s long life suits the prolonged, solitary study required for scientific research, and Matthew’s present research lab is the culmination of fifteen hundred years of learning. With society, beliefs, and discoveries ever changing over time, Matthew’s ideas have of course altered dramatically. But there have always been common threads: an interest in the diversity of nature, in the structure and function of the human body, and in health, medicine, and epidemiology. The key to understanding the influences that have shaped the vampire Matthew, like everything in the All Souls world, lies in a story of books. What would have been Matthew’s favorite scientific books over the centuries? Just as historians study what was once John Dee’s vast library to piece together his thoughts and influences, so too we can take a trip through the centuries of Matthew’s study and track the evolution of Matthew de Clermont, the scientist.

The Evolution of Matthew de Clermont: His Library of Scientific Works Through the Ages

500–999

During the early period of Matthew’s life as a vampire, he would have had very little access to scientific and medical texts outside of those few books about natural history and medicine that Ysabeau, Philippe, Baldwin, and Hugh de Clermont owned from the classical period.

Pliny the Elder, Natural History (A.D. 77)

Pliny the Elder (A.D. 23–79) was a soldier and commander in the Roman military and a public servant under Emperor Vespasian. He was also a prolific writer who researched and wrote books at night, after working during the day for the Roman Empire. Indeed, Pliny is said to have spent every spare moment engaged in research or writing, except when asleep or fully immersed in his bath. This allowed him to write a wide variety of books over the course of his life, including histories, grammars, and even a military work on the throwing of the javelin from horseback (one of Philippe’s favorites). Today he is remembered chiefly for his magnificent and encyclopedic Natural History. This was Pliny’s attempt to bring extensive, exhaustive research about the natural world together with his personal observations to give an understanding of “the nature of things, that is, life” (Preface).

Pliny began his Natural History in A.D. 77. His work on it ended with his death in A.D. 79 as a result of the eruption of Mount Vesuvius. After the initial eruption, he sailed to investigate the calamity and rescue a friend as well as others on the island, but his ship was trapped in the harbor by winds, and all perished. His nephew, Pliny the Younger, published Natural History for him posthumously, with little revision.

Natural History consists of thirty-seven books, or sections, arranged roughly into the Aristotelian categories of animal, vegetable, and mineral, with subjects ordered by analogies and shared qualities as well as the opposite, contrasting qualities. This lends Natural History a meandering but engaging narrative flow. Topics range widely from astronomy to geography, zoology to botany, water to magic to mining. There are books on geography (Spain, regions of Italy, Alpine nations, the cities of Egypt), on trees (fruit, forest, and otherwise cultivated ones), on stones (marble, geodes, the Sphinx), on animals (the habits of lions, the taming of elephants, and reports of dragons in Ethiopia), and on remedies derived from living creatures, plants, and aquatic animals: “The flesh of the sea-tortoise, mixed with that of frogs, is an excellent remedy for injuries caused by the salamander.” Pliny also makes a wide study of humanity and anthropology, including a chapter devoted to “Monstrous Births” and even a chapter on “Persons Who Have Come to Life Again After Being Laid Out for Burial.” This recounts incidents of men and women being revived by flames and other “operations of nature.” These were not, as Pliny takes pains to point out, examples of miracles. Natural History is notable not only for its breadth and depth but also for Pliny’s extensive citation and commentary on his sources, which pointed his readers to hundreds of Roman and Greek authors and their bodies of knowledge.

It is impossible to overstate Pliny’s importance in shaping Matthew’s worldview. Pliny’s wide-ranging, encyclopedic approach would have opened Matthew’s eyes to the marvelous variety of nature, to its mysteries, and to the hidden connections between geographic regions, flora and fauna, and the human and the divine. Even today Pliny reads as a combination of science and fairy tale, and that combination would have appealed to Matthew’s imagination (important for all creatures, but especially scientists) as well as his intellect.

At the same time, Matthew would probably have found much to argue with in Pliny’s dismissal of miracles. As a Christian (which Pliny was not), Matthew would have been raised to see the hand of God in every aspect of creation and to interpret some wonders as divine messages of approbation or censure. While reading Pliny, Matthew would have drawn lines between science and his own faith. Over the course of his long life, Matthew has shifted that line many, many times.

Today we often look down on encyclopedic knowledge, devaluing it as an unoriginal contribution to knowledge. This does a disservice to the encyclopedic genre. We all need reference books and compendiums of knowledge. The crucial point is that an encyclopedia is your first resort—not your final one. As in Matthew’s case, an encyclopedic treatment of a subject is an excellent foundation, but it is only a first step toward mastery.

Galen, Works (A.D. 219)

Galen (A.D. 129–c. 200–219) was a Greek physician and philosopher renowned for his contributions to the scientific study of anatomy and physiology. As a young man, Galen received a philosophical and medical education, including study at the medical school in Alexandria, and he went on to become physician to the gladiators of the high priest of Asia. The wounds of those gladiators functioned, in his words, as “windows into the body.” Eventually he served as physician to several Roman emperors while at the same time continuing to treat and perform surgeries on patients. He also undertook his own investigations into the systems of the body but was hampered by Roman laws that forbade autopsies and the dissection of human bodies.

Galen believed, however, that there were significant similarities between human anatomy and that of animals. He performed numerous dissections on living and dead animals, including apes, monkeys, dogs, and pigs. These dissections and vivisections allowed him to offer new insights into animal and human physiology. For instance, Galen showed that the voice is produced by the larynx, inflated pigs’ lungs with bellows, proved that both arteries and veins moved blood through the body, and distinguished arterial blood from venous blood. He placed particular importance on a person’s pulse, monitoring it for irregularities to help diagnose illness (a practice still used by doctors today). Though his conclusions contained many errors (for example, that blood was generated in the liver), Galen’s observations and experiments helped shape new and more accurate understandings about the human nervous system, the respiratory system, and, perhaps most notably, the circulatory system.

A core medical theory of the ancient world, which thanks to Galen became ingrained in Western medical practice for centuries, was that of the four humors in the human body. These were believed to exist as four fluids, each with corresponding temperaments: blood (sanguine), yellow bile (choleric), black bile (melancholic), and phlegm (phlegmatic). As Galen emphasized in his treatise On Temperaments, good health relied on the optimum balance of these four humors in the body. The distribution of each in a person could determine that individual’s sensitivity to certain diseases. The practice of bloodletting came from a desire to rebalance the bodily fluids and release excess blood. The four humors also corresponded to mixtures of hot, dry, cold, and wet, as well as the core elements earth, air, fire, and water, and the seasons spring, summer, autumn, and winter.

As Galen accumulated skill and knowledge, he dictated his findings to scribes. Historians believe that by the end of his life he had authored as many as five hundred treatises, though only about a third of these have survived. Even so, Galen is among the most prolific writers in antiquity. At a time when many Roman physicians relied on divination and prophecy to make diagnoses, Galen’s emphasis on empiricism helped transform Western medicine. He became the established authority for European medieval medical students until challenges to his theories emerged in the sixteenth century.

As with Pliny, it is impossible to overstate Galen’s influence on Matthew. Galen’s anatomy, physiology, and therapeutics would have shaped the first millennium of Matthew’s experiences as a patient and doctor. Once he had learned to read, Matthew would have read everything that Galen wrote, multiple times. As a vampire, Matthew would have been particularly fascinated by Galen’s anatomy and physiology. After all, not even Matthew could see beneath a creature’s skin. Galen’s vivid imagery would have helped Matthew imagine the structures and functions of the human body. Galen likened the aorta, for instance, to “a trunk divided into many branches and twigs” that nourished the whole body. And in his treatise on the use of the pulse in diagnosis (De pulsuum differentiis), Galen provided descriptions of twenty-seven distinct types of pulse for Matthew to observe.

More important, Galen’s treatise Is Blood Naturally Contained in the Arteries? (An sanguis in arteriis natura contineatur) would have given Matthew an explanation for why, when an artery is first cut, there is no sign of blood but only air. The answer, for Galen, was that the arteries carried both blood and pneuma (spirit) while the veins carried only corporeal blood. Such a theory would have given Matthew a framework for understanding why, for instance, he was able to see people’s thoughts when he drank their blood.

Galen’s work on the elements and bodily humors (De elementis and De temperamentis) would have provided Matthew with an explanation for his blood rage (that he had an excess of choleric humor) as well as a way to cope with his dark moods (that he was prone to a melancholic humor). Galen’s theory of the four humors would also have served as Matthew’s template when diagnosing his first patients.

Pedanius Dioscorides, De materia medica (A.D. 50–70)

Pedanius Dioscorides (c. A.D. 40–90), the author of De materia medica, served as a physician in the Roman army. In that position he traveled extensively throughout southeastern Europe, and everywhere he went, he sought out the medicinal uses of local plants and animals, and their preparation and applications, which he recorded and added to his professional repertoire of medical treatment. Eventually Dioscorides compiled his findings in a five-volume book in Greek, which was translated into many languages and is probably best known by its Latin title, De materia medica.

De materia medica includes information on nearly six hundred plants as well as some eighty animals or animal parts and almost a hundred minerals. Dioscorides provides his readers with approximately a thousand medicines derived from these. The five volumes are arranged such that medicinal plants appear first, then animal parts, roots, seeds and juices, then primarily culinary herbs, and finally wines and minerals. Within each volume the various plants, animals, and minerals are arranged in a grouping with others that have similar medicinal effects, rather than alphabetically or geographically, to aid the physician healer. Most surviving manuscripts and later printed editions of the text are heavily illustrated so that plants could be more easily identified.

His pharmacopeia ranged from copper to colocynth, nursing-mother’s milk to vipers, pomegranate-root bark to opium poppies, with preparations for treating everything from toothaches to madness. De materia medica marked an important shift from thinking about the natural world as a place of fantastic wonders to seeing it as an environment full of natural substances and creatures possessed of significant healing properties. The book remained in continual use by physicians and healers throughout the Mediterranean, North Africa, and Europe until well into the sixteenth century. In fact, its success and wide distribution meant that the plants defined in the book were often not native to a specific area, so physicians and healers would sometimes substitute native plants that resembled those Dioscorides described, with predictably disastrous results. The European discovery of the Americas put particular stress on the authority of Dioscorides’ catalog of plants and their uses. Still, his pharmacological contributions proved to be of lasting medical value. Medical preparations of many of these same plants, such as willow bark (salicylic acid) and opium poppy (morphine), remain in use today for the same purposes that Dioscorides recommended.

In many ways Dioscorides’ work is an encyclopedia of plants. He and the Roman encyclopedist Pliny were contemporaries, and Dioscorides’ influence on Matthew is similar to that of Pliny's. From Dioscorides, Matthew would have received his foundational knowledge of plants and their medicinal properties. He would have used his copy of Dioscorides whenever recommending a medicine or a treatment to his patients. Matthew would also have made his own investigations into his native mountains looking for plants mentioned in Dioscorides and similar substitutes. There is no doubt that there is at least one heavily annotated copy of Dioscorides’ De materia medica in Matthew’s libraries, perhaps including notes on his experiences with the various plants and medicines.

Other scientific figures of note: Pythagoras, Empedocles, Aristotle, Archimedes, Euclid’s Elements, Ptolemy, Hipparchus

1000–1500

In this period Matthew would have enjoyed formal training in medicine at the medical schools in Spain, Constantinople, Salerno, and other universities. His Latin, Greek, and Arabic would have been sufficiently strong that he could read, write, and converse in those tongues with knowledgeable practitioners. He would also have dealt with the complicated philosophy of Aristotle (which Philippe would have shared with him for centuries), and had his first encounter with learned theories of contagion and disease thanks to the famous physician Rhazes.

It’s important to remember that Matthew spent as much time as a soldier as he did a scholar in the Middle Ages. As a result, his opportunities for study and the practice of medicine (other than emergency medicine on the battlefield) would have been limited. In addition, ancient figures like Pliny, Galen, and Dioscorides remained authoritative—and the rediscovery of other ancient philosophers, such as Aristotle, only magnified the medieval sense that the thinkers of antiquity were the ones to study and emulate.

Aristotle, Metaphysics

Aristotle (384–322 B.C.), a student of Plato who went on to serve as tutor to Alexander the Great, eventually established his own school, the Lyceum, in Athens. A philosopher and scientist, Aristotle founded the field of formal logic and made the first known study of zoology. His Metaphysics is a collection of treatises that were probably written as lectures for the students at his Lyceum, which may account for the fact that they are sometimes vague on certain points and seem to be arranged somewhat unpredictably. In these treatises Aristotle describes metaphysics as “the first philosophy,” which he defines as the study of things that are subject to the laws of nature. In Metaphysics he wrestles with questions like “What is the nature of a plant or animal?” and age-old existential questions like “What is being?” Aristotle was an empiricist, and although he lacked many of the modern tools of measurement, he argued that answers to questions such as these must not be simply perceptual but must be supported with facts and causes.

In his Metaphysics Aristotle reconciled two competing beliefs that then prevailed regarding the nature of the world. The first was that all things are constantly changing, and the other was the belief that reason tells us that the world is unchanging and is composed of one single reality. Aristotle explained that all things around us are composed of form and matter and that the matter is unchanging but the form of matter constantly changes. So what makes a person is his or her basic essence that endures through changes—changes wrought by age, shifting abilities, and even death. Aristotle taught that the essence of someone or something is its primary, unalterable substance. The form of a living creature, a vegetable, or a thing changes constantly, but without altering this essence.

Aristotle’s Metaphysics was one of scores of ancient texts that were “lost” to the Christian West (though known to Arabic philosophers) because Western scholars lacked the knowledge of Greek and access to Greek texts that would have been necessary to read the work. Though Matthew could read and write Greek, there were few people to discuss the ideas with except for Hugh, Fernando, and Philippe. Once the Metaphysics came back into Western European hands in the twelfth century, however, the book would have been discussed and its ideas debated at the universities. Most of Matthew’s university friends would have been reading Latin translations made from Arabic translations of a Greek text. It was not until the thirteenth century, after the Fourth Crusade, that a nonvampiric Western European encountered an original Greek text.

Matthew would have been intrigued by the notion that something essential in a person endured even though other qualities changed. The idea would have provided solace to him at a time when he was questioning his faith, his role in the family, and his purpose in life. It is probably due to the influence of Aristotle that Matthew was able to formulate his guiding question: “Who am I, and why am I here?”

Muhammad ibn Zakariya al-Razi (Rhazes), Kitab fi al-Jadari wa-al-hasbah (De variolis et morbillis)

Muhammad ibn Zakariya al-Razi (865–c. 925) was a celebrated Islamic scholar and physician, known in Western Europe as Rhazes. Al-Razi moved to Baghdad when he was young and became physician to the royal court, as well as the director of a large hospital. The experience and observations from his work there underpinned his medical writings. Like most of his contemporary scholars, he was influenced by ancient Greek medicine and produced hundreds of medical and scientific works that were widely translated and studied in both the Islamic and European spheres.

Among al-Razi’s large scholarly output, his most significant work was Kitab fi al-Jadari wa-al-hasbah (“A Treatise on Smallpox and Measles”). Written at the end of the ninth century, this was the first comprehensive examination of smallpox. Al-Razi noted that while Galen mentioned the disease, he didn’t offer any help in understanding its causes or finding its cure. In al-Razi’s classic treatise of differential diagnosis, he laid out detailed clinical descriptions of the symptoms and treatment for smallpox and the danger of contagion. He also distinguished these symptoms from measles through careful examination of his patients and the nature of the diseases. He attracted many students during his lifetime, and after his death his fame gradually spread into medieval Europe. Latin translations of this work, and his other medical works, influenced European medical education and practitioners.

Matthew would not have needed to wait for a Latin translation of al-Razi’s work—he would have read it in Arabic while he was living and working in the city of Córdoba shortly after al-Razi’s death. It was in Córdoba that Matthew received his first formal training as a physician, and smallpox had been brought to the Iberian peninsula in the seventh-century Arab conquest. He would have treated smallpox victims and seen the lasting disfigurement that often afflicted survivors. Most important, the work of al-Razi gave Matthew a set of symptoms so that he could diagnose, isolate, and treat patients with the disease.

Smallpox was a significant medical threat, due to its highly contagious profile and high mortality rate. Al-Razi’s work provided Matthew with the theory of acquired immunity—a subject that interests Matthew to the present day. Someone who contracts smallpox and survives cannot contract the disease again. Matthew would have wondered if having smallpox was somehow analogous to being a vampire. Was vampirism a disease, like smallpox, that gave you a kind of total immunity to other diseases? It was not a question Matthew could answer at the time, but it was the work of al-Razi, along with Matthew’s own experiences in hospitals and at patient bedsides, that helped him to frame it.

Ibn Sīnā (Avicenna), The Book of Healing (<1037), The Canon of Medicine (<1037)

After the breakup of the Roman Empire and the spread of Islam from the seventh century, a period known as the Islamic Golden Age saw a blossoming of Arabic culture, science, and scholarship in the Middle East, largely radiating from Baghdad. Many classical works were gathered and translated there from Greek, Egyptian, Roman, Chinese, and Indian authors. This provided a rich array of source material for Arab scholars and influenced their work. Their efforts ensured that key texts from the ancient world, like Aristotle’s Metaphysics, which might otherwise have been lost were in turn translated from Arabic into Hebrew and Latin, to be rediscovered by the scholars of medieval Western Europe.

Ibn Sīnā (c. 980–1037), or Avicenna as he was known in Europe, was a Persian philosopher and physician and is celebrated as one of the greatest Islamic scholars of this Golden Age. He was born near Bukhara (a city now in Uzbekistan) and died in Hamadan (Iran). Ibn Sīnā’s studies encompassed the classical authors available in the libraries of Bukhara, and he turned to medicine at the age of sixteen. His works covered a range of subjects, but it was with The Book of Healing and The Canon of Medicine that he had the most widespread and lasting influence.

The Book of Healing, also known as The Cure, is a sprawling, encyclopedic work of philosophy and science. It is divided into four sections, under the subjects of logic, physics, mathematics, and metaphysics, with each topic then split into relevant subsections. Ibn Sīnā drew on the models of the ancient authors he had studied, in particular Aristotle and his Metaphysics, continuing their ideas while using them to put forward his own theories about the nature of existence. This book established Ibn Sīnā as one of the leading philosophers in the Arab world and later, with the Latin translation, influential among European intellectuals.

The Canon of Medicine was similarly translated into Latin in the twelfth century and became a core text for medieval European medical students. They dubbed Ibn Sīnā, along with Galen, princeps medicorum (prince of physicians). The Canon is clearly categorized and structured into five books covering all aspects of medical theory and practice. Drawing on the earlier work of Galen (beginning with general discussions of the four elements—earth, air, fire, and water—and building on Galen’s system of the four humors), the five books are themselves then subdivided and include examinations of anatomy, diseases and their treatments, as well as the nature and use of simple and compound drugs. Ibn Sīnā emphasized the importance of experience and practice alongside theory, with clinical trials an important part of his acquired knowledge in the potency of specific remedies.

Ibn Sīnā’s The Canon was a textbook rather than an encyclopedia, and his purpose was to write for teachers and students of medicine. In the first chapter, he carefully distinguished what medicine was—and what it was not. For Matthew, Ibn Sīnā’s efforts to explain the relationship between the practice of medicine and its underlying theoretical base opened whole new avenues to explore. While medicine was devoted to the practical understanding and treatment of the human body, for example, natural philosophy dealt with questions such as: What is a humor? What are the four elements? But the practice clearly rested on these theoretical foundations, and once that was set out for Matthew, he wanted to contribute to both aspects of medical science. In some ways his life as a geneticist and a molecular biologist can be dated back to Ibn Sīnā.

Matthew’s first serious study of natural philosophy as a body of knowledge was undertaken through Ibn Sīnā’s The Book of Healing. In spite of its title, The Book of Healing was Ibn Sīnā’s encyclopedic effort to cure an ignorant soul. Matthew’s first systematic exposure to chemistry, astronomy, and logic was possible because of this foundational text. Of particular importance to Matthew’s development as a scientist was Ibn Sīnā’s rejection of Aristotle’s method of induction (moving from particular instances to more generalized statements) in favor of examination and experimentation.

Because Matthew is a fluent Arabic writer and speaker, he first read Ibn Sīnā in Arabic, as he did al-Razi. Matthew’s brother Hugh gave him copies of both The Canon and The Book of Healing, which he values among his prized possessions.

Other scientific figures of note: Fibonacci, Roger Bacon, Thomas Aquinas, Gerbert d’Aurillac, Nicole Oresme, Robert Grosseteste, Arnold of Villanova

1500–1700

These were the centuries when everything changed for Matthew. Known by historians as the period of the Scientific Revolution, this was a time when old systems of knowledge were crumbling. Chemistry, medicine, anatomy, and physiology all underwent fundamental transformations. Matthew would have been especially interested in the dissections of Vesalius, the idea that the heart was a pump (Harvey), and the toxicology of Paracelsus, particularly his ideas about poisons and biochemistry. He also would have loved microscopy.

Paracelsus, Das Buch Paragranum (1529–30) and De causis morborum invisibilium (after 1531)

Paracelsus (1493–1541) was a controversial figure in the history of science in the early sixteenth century. His real name was Philippus Aureolus Theophrastus Bombastus von Hohenheim, and he was born in Switzerland, the son of a Swiss physician. Taught medicine by his father, Paracelsus later studied in Italy and traveled extensively as a military physician for the Venetian army. He gathered and recorded valuable observations from the people he met and treated. He fiercely rejected many of the old established medical texts and stirred outrage by publicly burning the books of Galen and Ibn Sīnā. Paracelsus instead promoted practice and experience as the only true tutor: “The patients are your textbook, the sickbed your study.” Alongside this, his interest in alchemy and the occult and the credit he gave to time-tested folk medicines and beliefs were both equally important to his medical experimentation.

Paracelsus has been hailed as the father of toxicology as well as the father of modern pharmacology for his pioneering work to bring chemistry into medicine. He argued against Galen’s commonly accepted system of the four humors—blood, phlegm, yellow and black bile—in the body and instead put forward the principle of three vital substances: salt (representing stability), sulfur (representing combustibility), and mercury (liquidity). Not only did Paracelsus’s theories influence medicine; they were heavily debated among alchemists. He believed that the cure for a disease could be determined by deciphering which of these three core elements was the cause and that “a poison in the body would be cured by a similar poison” as long as it was administered in the correct dosage. He alleged that all things could be poisonous in large quantities and that correspondingly otherwise harmful substances could be a cure in the right doses.

Like Galen, Paracelsus wrote many works over the course of his lifetime, but only a handful were published. After his death students and other followers gathered up notes, manuscripts, and recollections and published them in Latin editions as well as in German so that they could reach a wide audience. The popularity of Paracelsus’s works throughout Western Europe can be seen by the numerous vernacular translations that were undertaken in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.

Matthew was familiar with Paracelsus and his work. Though Matthew found Paracelsus’s personality abrasive and disagreed with his bombastic style, he was intrigued by the man’s ideas. Two works that were of particular influence were his Paragranum and De causis morborum invisibilium (On the Causes of Invisible Diseases). In the Paragranum, Paracelsus argued that medicine should be based on four pillars: natural philosophy (to better understand the plant and animal kingdoms), astronomy (to better understand the relationship between humanity and the divine influences), alchemy (to better understand the mineral kingdom), and virtue (the power of the practitioner and patient to influence a medical cure). The Paragranum emphasized the sympathetic links that existed between widely separated parts of the world system. This system of correspondences, as it was known in the early modern period, helped Matthew develop his ideas about the links between seemingly different creatures.

In De causis morborum invisibilium, Paracelsus considered other topics of interest to Matthew: the role of the imagination in disease and the place of faith in healing. At a time when science and medicine were moving away from religion, Paracelsus put forward the role of unseen factors in the mind and spirit that could influence the body. De causis morborum invisibilium also contains information about magic and the role that charms, talismans, and other magical practices might play in medicine and health. Drawing on his idea of correspondences, Paracelsus built magic into every aspect of his philosophical system—which might explain Matthew’s insistence to Diana that science and magic are more closely aligned than she believes.

Andreas Vesalius, De fabrica humani corporis (1543)

The well-worn copy of Andreas Vesalius’s book that Diana found on Matthew’s shelves was clearly a favorite of his. First published in 1543, it marked a crucial turning point in the history of medicine. Vesalius, born in Brussels, was a physician in the sixteenth century (1514–64). He described how he first went about studying human bones from the Cemetery of the Innocents in Paris when he was a medical student there. Soon after, his remarkable talent for dissection became clear. Traveling to Italy, Vesalius was appointed to teach anatomy and surgery at Padua University and later went on to become imperial physician to Holy Roman Emperor Charles V (to whom the book is dedicated).

De fabrica was based on Vesalius’s lectures and dissections at Padua and is arranged into sections on bones and cartilages, ligaments and muscles, organs of nutrition and generation, the heart and associated organs, and the brain. His aim was “to provide as truthful and complete an account as possible of the fabric of the human body, which is made not of ten or twelve different parts (as it seems to the casual observer), but of some thousand.” He highlighted where Galen’s anatomical ideas had been based on a dissection of animals rather than on human corpses, although some of Galen’s ideas remained, most notably the theory of the four bodily humors. Vesalius was famous in his time for breaking with traditional teaching methods and dissecting human corpses himself in front of the students (rather than leaving it to a surgeon, who was viewed as someone with only manual skill). He also used visual aids to illustrate clearly the specific anatomy he was explaining.

The visual representations of dissections in De fabrica and the beautifully intricate detail of the woodcut illustrations contributed to the book’s importance. Vesalius noted that “our pictures of the parts of the body will give particular pleasure to those people who do not always have the opportunity of dissecting a human body,” bringing clarity and accessibility to a subject that had previously been so obscure. One of the surviving copies of the book, held in Brown University’s John Hay Library, is bound in human skin.

Matthew, a veteran of battlefields and hospitals, had suspected for some time that Galen’s anatomy was not quite right. But it took Vesalius’s dissections, and the publication and discussion of his findings, to get Matthew to begin to move away from the Galenic texts that had informed his first thousand years. Matthew was one of the many spectators who attended Vesalius’s dissections in Padua in the early 1540s. Though some were there for the spectacle, Matthew was there to learn as much as he could about the body’s secrets. He befriended Vesalius and remained in contact with the anatomist long after he left the city of Venice in 1543.

Having read Vesalius and observed his dissections, Matthew became even more convinced that the human body was a marvelous example of God’s creative ingenuity. At the same time, he began to appreciate as never before that the body was knowable and that a better understanding of its many mysteries was possible. Thenceforth he took advantage of every chance he got to study the body’s structure and its function. From the diagnosis of the pulse to treating a wounded soldier to working in a hospital ward, Matthew began to advance his own ideas in a series of anatomical notebooks and medical notes that remain scattered throughout his libraries.

William Harvey, De motu cordis (1628)

Next to Vesalius’s seminal work on human anatomy, Diana found another well-thumbed favorite on Matthew’s shelf, William Harvey’s De motu cordis. Matthew later revealed how he had come to know the seventeenth-century physiologist. William Harvey (1578–1657) was born in the south of England. He studied medicine at the University of Padua, then returned to his home country and joined the College of Physicians in London at the age of twenty-six. He became renowned in his lifetime for his experiments and discoveries about the workings of the heart, laying out the mechanics of how it pumped blood in a closed circuit around the body. He published his findings in the 1628 landmark work De motu cordis (Exercitatio anatomica de motu cordis et sanguinis in animalibus, or An Anatomical Exercise on the Motion of the Heart and Blood in Living Beings). He dedicated the book to “the most illustrious and indomitable Prince Charles, King of Great Britain,” and opened it with “The heart of animals is the foundation of life, the sovereign of everything within them, the sun of their microcosm, that upon which all growth depends, from which all power proceeds.” It made a huge impact on his contemporaries.

De motu cordis has been seen as an important work in the history of science in the West not only for Harvey’s groundbreaking discoveries which disproved old theories (such as Galen’s idea that venous blood was produced in the liver), but also for his methodology and detailed, systematic approach. Harvey based his work on vigorous experimentation and clear empirical evidence. Like Vesalius, he questioned the revered authorities such as Galen and Aristotle when their teaching did not hold up against his own experience. He was careful to show that he had spent years proving his findings, not contradicting these ancient scientists arrogantly “but from Dissections and from the fabric of Nature.”

What Vesalius did for Matthew’s understanding of anatomy, Harvey did for his understanding of physiology. Though Matthew worried that there was little room in Harvey’s heart for the operation of the spirit or soul, he couldn’t fail to be convinced by the physician’s careful evidence and demonstrations. Even with his worries over how these new findings might challenge his faith, Matthew continued to wonder at God’s creative ingenuity. If anatomical structure had shown God at his sculptural best, then the new physiology of Harvey and his contemporaries showed the creator as a mechanic as well as an artist, fashioning in the heart a vital engine of life.

Moreover, while vampire anatomy did not differ from human anatomy, vampire physiology offered important contrasts for Matthew to consider. He had noticed that a vampire pulse was far slower than a human pulse. He’d tried to fit that observation into Galenic theory for centuries, wondering if vampires had a different amount of vital pneuma, or spirit, in the blood or if they lacked some of the bodily humors that humans struggled to keep in balance. With Harvey, Matthew began to wonder if a vampire’s slower heartbeat meant that the pump of the heart was slower to wear out, leading to a longer life span.

Robert Hooke, Micrographia (1665)

Robert Hooke is not well known today, possibly because he had so many intellectual interests he scarcely had time to develop them all. Hooke was born on the Isle of Wight in 1635 and studied at Oxford in the 1650s. There he served for seven years as the assistant to the famous Robert Boyle, the scientist who discovered that the volume of a gas decreases with increasing pressure and vice versa. After his employ by Boyle, London’s Royal Society appointed Hooke curator of experiments in 1661. His own experiments in observing objects under the microscope, still a relatively new instrument at that time, were the basis for Micrographia (Small Drawings) in 1665. Though others, for example Antonie van Leeuwenhoek, had worked to develop microscopy, Hooke was the first to capitalize on the uses of print technology to share these developments with a wide audience.

Micrographia was a revelation to its readers and soon became a bestseller. Hooke described his observations under the microscope of a wide variety of common objects and creatures—the point of a needle, sand, sponges, kidney stones, mold, the eye of a fly, his own hair—and invited the reader into this tiny world through detailed illustrations. His conclusions were also groundbreaking. Based on his examination of cork, Hooke was the first to use the word “cell” to describe the units that compose larger organisms. He suggested the wave theory of light. Possibly most important for Matthew de Clermont, Hooke deduced that fossils had once been living creatures.

The prevailing theory at the time was that fossils were formed within the earth—that they were not the remains of living beings but were created by an “extraordinary Plastick virtue.” But Hooke wrote:

I cannot but think, that all these, and most other kinds of stony bodies which are found thus strangely figured, do owe their formation and figuration, not to any kind of Plastick virtue inherent in the earth, but to the Shells of certain Shel-fishes, which, either by some Deluge, Inundation, Earthquake, or some such other means, came to be thrown to that place, and there to be fill’d with some kind of Mudd or Clay; . . . that these Shells in many, from the particular nature of the containing or enclos’d Earth, or some other cause, have in tract of time rotted and mouldred away, and onely left their impressions . . .

Hooke believed not only that fossils were the remains of living beings, but also that those beings could become extinct. This made Hooke one of the first proponents of a theory of evolution.

Like many scientists Hooke was ambitious, and became incensed when he didn’t receive appropriate recognition for his work. He famously quarreled with Isaac Newton over the attribution of his ideas, and Newton retaliated by minimizing Hooke’s achievements. Hooke also contested Christiaan Huygens’s claim to have invented the balance-spring watch in 1675. Hooke was irate because he had shown his own version of this watch to the Royal Society five years earlier—but the official minutes did not record the event.

In a turn of plot worthy of the All Souls trilogy, a long-lost seventeenth-century manuscript has laid this controversy to rest. In 2006 a manuscript was discovered in a cupboard in England containing Hooke’s personal copies of minutes of the Royal Society meetings from 1661 to 1691. This not only confirmed Hooke’s claim but also provided a trove of information that shed new light on his scientific contributions.

Other scientific figures of note: Copernicus, Tycho Brahe, Johannes Kepler, John Dee, Isaac Newton

1700–1800

As he had been in the medieval period, Matthew was largely a soldier and a politician during this century, although he kept up to date with developments in medicine and surgery. Edward Jenner’s discoveries would have opened up whole new possibilities for thinking about health and healing, and Matthew would also have had an interest in the work of John Hunter.

John Hunter, “Observations Tending to Shew That the Wolf, Jackal, and Dog, Are All of the Same Species,” Philosophical Transactions (1787)

Born the youngest of ten children to a Scottish family in 1728, John Hunter initially had little interest in formal education. At the age of twenty, however, he paid a visit to his brother William, a distinguished teacher of anatomy in London, and found his true vocation. John joined his brother as an assistant and showed enormous talent for dissection, helping William procure corpses for dissection at a time when physicians had limited access to cadavers. Later Hunter formally studied surgery and anatomy and qualified as a surgeon, setting up his own surgical practice in 1764.

Like Paracelsus, Hunter believed that the study of nature was essential to developing a doctor’s observational skills, and he emphasized the relationship between structure and function in all living creatures. During his stint as an army staff surgeon in France and Portugal, he collected specimens of various animals. Back in London he stocked the grounds of his house near Earl’s Court with a menagerie of animals, including zebras, goats, and jackals. There he studied their anatomy and conducted other experiments. In 1783 he moved to a large house in Leicester Square, where he organized his collections into a teaching museum, which still exists today as the Hunterian Museum. Because Hunter also accepted delivery of human cadavers from grave robbers at the back entrance of his house, it is thought to have been the prototype for the residence of the fictitious Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

John Hunter did not make any single scientific breakthrough for which he is remembered, but nevertheless he is recognized as a founder of scientific surgery. His insistence on the importance of observation and experimentation was a powerful influence on such students as Edward Jenner, whose vaccine helped rid the world of the scourge of smallpox. Hunter once famously wrote to Jenner, “I think your solution is just, but why think? Why not try the experiment?”

Matthew de Clermont would have read with interest Hunter’s 1787 article “Observations Tending to Shew That the Wolf, Jackal, and Dog, Are All of the Same Species.” Hunter rightly observed that wolves and jackals were able to mate with dogs, and he concluded that both the wolf and jackal are dogs. “In any case we may reckon three great varieties in this species, wolf, jackal, and dog; which again branch into their respective less obvious varieties. If the dog proves to be the wolf tamed, the jackal may probably be the dog returned to its wild state; which leads to another curious question: Whether, as animals vary from climate, cultivation, or what may be called differences in mode of living, they would return to their genuine character if allowed to go wild again in the original country?”

Hunter’s observations are in some ways the direct ancestor to Matthew’s own inquiries into the behavior of wolf packs and the movement of lupine DNA between packs. Matthew also became fascinated with the border between wild and domesticated animals. He began to wonder, after reading Hunter, if vampires were humans that had reverted to “wildness,” living closer to their animal past as hunters and pack animals. Hunter’s ideas about the variation among members of the dog family may also have sown the seed of Matthew’s future hypothesis that the four different forms of hominid creature were branches of the same family.

Edward Jenner, An Inquiry into the Causes and Effects of the Variolae Vaccinae (1798)

When Edward Jenner, the “father of immunology,” was born in England in 1749, the disease of smallpox killed an estimated four hundred thousand Europeans each year and caused one-third of all cases of blindness. Variolation (inoculation with a small amount of live smallpox virus) was the only known method of protection, and it, too, could be deadly. Jenner himself was variolated while at school, in a process that involved first adopting a radical, strict diet, copious bloodletting, then isolation with other variolated boys until the disease had run its course. It was an experience he never forgot.

As a young man, Jenner apprenticed to a surgeon in South Gloucestershire; then in 1770 he was apprenticed in surgery and anatomy under the revered surgeon John Hunter in London. Though Jenner returned to South Gloucestershire in 1773 as a family doctor and surgeon, the two remained lifelong friends.

Jenner was by no means the first person to notice that cowpox seemed to be a preventive against smallpox. Between 1770 and 1791, half a dozen people in three different countries had observed that milkmaids, who often contracted cowpox from cows, tended to be spared from smallpox. Having been apprenticed to John Hunter, however, Jenner took the casual observations several steps further. He determined that there were two forms of cowpox, only one of which was effective in inoculating the patient from smallpox, and made sketches of cowpox pustules so that he and others could identify them. In 1796 he conducted his crucial experiment. A patient’s milkmaid, Sarah Nelmes, was infected with cowpox by her bovine charge, Blossom. Jenner took a small amount of fluid from a pustule on Sarah’s hand and placed it under the skin of an eight-year-old boy. The boy suffered mild symptoms of illness about nine days later, much less serious than variolation would cause. Seven weeks after that, Jenner variolated the boy, and the boy showed only the mild symptoms commonly shown by patients who had already been protected against smallpox.

Unlike other early experimenters, Jenner had done further research and then demonstrated through established medical procedure that cowpox inoculation protected the patient against smallpox. In 1798 he published the results of his observations and case histories in An Inquiry into the Causes and Effects of the Variolae Vaccinae. Some of his conclusions were flawed and the research method was rudimentary, but it was the first time that observation and experimentation had been used to produce a remedy to a deadly disease. By 1842 Parliament had declared it a felony to practice variolation instead of the safer vaccination.

Jenner spent the rest of his life promoting vaccination to prevent smallpox infection. (And the word “vaccination” is an homage to Jenner’s achievement—in Latin vacca means “cow.”) He is often said to have saved more lives than any other human.

It was the work of Jenner that encouraged Matthew to embark on two avenues of research he still pursues today: one focused on how a warm-blooded creature is transformed into a vampire, the other on whether there might be a cure for blood rage. When it came to making new vampires, Matthew began to wonder if there was something in vampire blood that “vaccinated” creatures against contracting other diseases. Like the fluid from the cowpox pustule, did some invisible property of a vampire’s blood prevent sickness, aging, even death? As for blood rage, Matthew still hopes that some form of prevention or cure might be found for the deadly disease. Once, preventing smallpox was impossible. Jenner’s discovery gave Matthew hope that one day his condition, too, might be completely eradicated.

1800–1899

This was a century of major breakthroughs in scientific thought. Darwin’s theory on the evolution of species was a leap in biological science that stunned and excited European society. For Matthew it opened boundless possibilities for understanding who he was and what his place in the world might be.

Charles Darwin, On the Origin of Species (1859)

“The affinities of all the beings of the same class have sometimes been represented by a great tree. . . . As buds give rise by growth to fresh buds, and these, if vigorous, branch out and overtop on all sides many a feebler branch, so by generation I believe it has been with the great Tree of Life, which fills with its dead and broken branches the crust of the earth, and covers the surface with its ever branching and beautiful ramifications.”

Charles Darwin’s groundbreaking On the Origin of Species laid out the process of change, conceived from his extensive research into natural history, that he called natural selection and the evolution of species. It caused a storm of controversy upon publication and changed the way that people in the Western world had always thought about their origins. Darwin stripped away the role of God in creation, introducing his contemporaries to the idea of nature’s survival of the fittest, with the gradual adaptation over time of plants and animals through struggle and reproduction.

Born in England, Darwin (1809–82) had started out at Edinburgh University studying medicine, but after a year he turned to natural history and went on to focus on his passion at Cambridge University. In 1831 he joined the expedition of the H.M.S Beagle as a naturalist and geologist, a five-year trip that took him to South America and the Galápagos Islands (among others). From this trip’s meticulously recorded observations of plant and animal species and of fossils, as well as his studies in the countryside of England when he returned, Darwin gradually formulated the framework of his theory of natural selection. It would be more than twenty years before he published his work.

By 1859 Darwin wasn’t the only one whose research led him to these hypotheses. He noted at the beginning of Origin that the naturalist Alfred Russel Wallace had also come to the same conclusions about evolution and that this had precipitated the swift publication of his own book. The way in which Darwin brought together his vast array of evidence, the engaging and carefully crafted narrative of the book, and his coining of the phrase “natural selection” instantly captured a huge readership and brought his hypotheses into the mainstream.

As Diana read through Matthew’s signed first edition of On the Origin of Species at Sept-Tours, she saw how Darwin’s ideas had excited the nineteenth-century Matthew. It was the combination of Hunter’s work on the dog family and Darwin’s later work on natural selection that framed Matthew’s own research into creature origins. The history of creatures in the All Souls world illuminates Darwin’s theory that it is the ability to change and adapt above all that determines a species survival.

Other scientific figures of note: Dmitry Mendeleyev, Jean-Baptiste Lamarck, Gregor Mendel, Florence Nightingale, Wilhelm Roentgen

1900–1999

This century was all about biochemistry for Matthew, and it marked an exciting time for his research in genetics.

Alexander Fleming, “On the Antibacterial Action of Cultures of a Penicillium, with Special Reference to Their Use in the Isolation of B. influenzae,” British Journal of Experimental Pathology 10:226–236, 1929

The Scot Alexander Fleming graduated from St. Mary’s Hospital Medical School in London in 1906 at the age of twenty-five and later joined the research department there, becoming an assistant to a bacteriologist. After taking a degree in bacteriology in 1908, he remained at St. Mary’s as a lecturer until the Great War broke out in 1914.

Fleming developed his interest in finding an effective antibacterial while working in France as a member of the Royal Army Medical Corps. Many soldiers died of sepsis resulting from infected wounds. Fleming discovered that the antiseptics used for wounds might have done more harm than good, because they killed beneficial agents on the surface and did nothing to kill anaerobic bacteria deep inside the wound. After the war ended, he continued his search for antibacterial substances.

As most schoolchildren know, Fleming’s discovery of penicillin was not only accidental but was the direct result of his reluctance to clean his laboratory. In September 1928 he returned from vacation to find dirty petri dishes stacked in a corner. One culture had been contaminated by a fungus, and the colonies of bacteria immediately surrounding the fungus were dead. Fleming immediately set about growing the mold in a pure culture and found that it killed many different disease-causing bacteria. With help from his mycologist colleague “Old Moldy,” whose lab might have been the source of the rogue fungus, he identified it as Penicillium chrysogenum. (Actually, Old Moldy initially misidentified it, but Fleming was gracious about the mistake.) After several months of calling the resulting substance mold juice, Fleming settled on the more salutary name of penicillin.

When Fleming published his discovery in the British Journal of Experimental Pathology in 1929, it aroused little interest. Fleming, unlike Darwin, was a notoriously poor communicator; he couldn’t cultivate enough penicillin for it to be useful on a larger scale; and he couldn’t persuade a chemist to help him solve the problem. We now know that penicillin is produced only by certain species of Penicillium and only when the growth of the fungus is inhibited by stress—a complicated combination of factors. Fleming had all but abandoned his efforts by 1938, when Howard Florey, a pharmacologist and pathologist at Oxford, read his 1929 paper.

Florey and a team of scientists, including biochemist Ernst Boris Chain, quickly isolated the effective penicillin compound, conducted successful trials on mice and humans, and began working on the problem of mass-producing penicillin. Their first human subject in 1941 improved dramatically but later died because there was not enough penicillin to continue the treatment. The team turned to America, where they received help from Merck & Co., various research laboratories, and most of all a moldy cantaloupe from Peoria, Illinois, whose strain of Penicillium chrysogenum produced two hundred times more penicillin than Fleming’s source. Mass production started after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941, and by 1944 there was enough penicillin to treat all the Allied wounded in World War II.

Fleming, Florey, and Chain shared the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine in 1945. Fleming could never have carried his initial discovery to fruition without the team from Oxford, but then again they never would have had a substance to work on if Fleming hadn’t looked at a dirty petri dish in 1928 and said, “That’s funny.”

As for Matthew, after reading Fleming he returned to his earlier interest in understanding the properties of vampire blood (both its healing, palliative properties and pathological properties such as blood rage). When he considered it in light of Darwin’s theories about evolution and natural selection, Matthew began to reconsider whether blood rage might be a symptom of species progress or species decline.

Crick and Watson, “The Molecular Structure of Nucleic Acids”; Franklin and Gosling, “Molecular Configuration in Sodium Thymonucleate”; Wilkins, Stokes, and Wilson, “Molecular Structure of Deoxypentose Nucleic Acids” (www.nature.com/nature/dna50/watsoncrick.pdf; 1953)

On April 25, 1953, three articles appeared in the scientific journal Nature that transformed the science of genetics and shaped Matthew’s future field of study. The leading article was by Francis Crick and James D. Watson and was entitled “The Molecular Structure of Nucleic Acids.” The second article that appeared alongside Crick and Watson’s was by Rosalind Franklin and Randall Gosling, with the third by another King’s College researcher, Maurice Wilkins and his two colleagues. These two articles supported Watson and Crick’s findings with their own data.

Crick and Watson’s article put forward their theory of the double-helix structure of deoxyribonucleic acid (DNA), the molecule that holds the genetic code of living organisms. Prior to this, scientists had conjectured about the role DNA played in holding and passing on genetic information. They knew it was connected with the structure of the gene, but up until that time no one had been able to decipher how or why. The correct model was finally laid out by Crick and Watson, who noted in this famous article that “the specific pairing we have postulated immediately suggests a possible copying mechanism for the genetic material.”

DNA was originally isolated in 1869 by a Swiss scientist, Friedrich Meischer. Around the globe, researchers built on Meischer’s work, with DNA’s function in heredity confirmed by the Hershey-Chase experiment in 1952. James Watson, an American molecular biologist, met his British fellow scientist Francis Crick (who died in 2004) in England at the University of Cambridge’s Cavendish Laboratory. Their work together drew heavily on the data of Rosalind Franklin and her student Raymond Gosling, researchers from King’s College London. An X-ray diffraction image taken by Gosling, called Photo 51, is famously said to have given Crick and Watson the breakthrough they needed.

Watson, Crick, and Wilkins were eventually awarded the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine in 1962 “for their discoveries concerning the molecular structure of nucleic acids and its significance for information transfer in living material.” This recognition came after the death of Franklin in 1958, and there is still some controversy over whether due credit has been given to Franklin for the discovery.

When Matthew read these three articles, more than fourteen hundred years of reading, practice, and experiment came together. Finally he felt he might have the key that would unlock the doors of his understanding on the essential differences among daemons, humans, vampires, and witches. By looking deep within the human body—deeper than anatomy, or Vesalian dissection, or microscopy allowed—Matthew might be able to understand once and for all who he was and why he was put on earth. After centuries of wondering if God was an architect, a painter, a sculptor, or a mechanic, Matthew began to think that He was all of them—and a chemist as well. Genetics enabled Matthew to see beyond the superficial differences between species to consider the commonalities that proved Hunter and Darwin right: All four hominid species were merely branches on one complicated family tree.

What Matthew never anticipated was how complicated DNA research would be. From the study of the chemistry of the DNA molecule to the mapping of the genome and the role that mtDNA plays in inheritance, Matthew’s journey toward understanding has been long and twisting. Instead of finding a key to the mystery of his existence in DNA, he discovered another set of barriers to overcome.

Other scientific figures of note: Niels Bohr, Albert Einstein, Ivan Pavlov, Jocelyn Bell

Alchemy

The ancient art of alchemy is where magic and science intersect, and it provides the core framework running through the heart of the All Souls world. Today the secrets of alchemy are a never-ending source of debate for historians and academics, including Dr. Diana Bishop. Who was the first alchemist? No one knows as the origins of alchemy are shrouded in mystery. Scholars believe that some form of alchemy was practiced in ancient cultures throughout the world. At the heart of alchemy is the belief that human beings can imitate the processes of creation and destruction that are so important to the earth’s history. Just as it is impossible for historians to identify the first alchemist, it is impossible to come up with a single definition of alchemy that adequately covers the many different strands of the discipline that developed over the years.

For some, alchemy was primarily concerned with the material transformation of chemicals and metals through processes such as heating, cooling, condensation, and separation. Stories of alchemists who turned lead into gold belong to this tradition, and the methods they developed can be traced forward into modern scientific laboratories and the discipline of chemistry. Their practices also contributed to medical, industrial, and technical breakthroughs such as the creation of chemical medicines, the production of new dyes for cloth, and refinements in glass making and furnace construction.

For other alchemists, material transformations were merely an earthly sign of more important philosophical and metaphysical changes. Alchemical texts are often couched in allegorical language and use symbols to show the alchemist’s journey toward wisdom and knowledge. These allegories and symbols have led modern psychologists to argue that alchemical texts contain important insights into archetypal human emotions and impulses. In the past, alchemy was linked to spiritual redemption, the coming of the apocalypse, and the search for the philosopher’s stone, which would bring eternal life to the lucky alchemist who was able to obtain it through his chemical work.

As Matthew pointed out, Darwin’s biological theory of natural selection also mirrored the alchemical theory of transmutation. Through a process of linked changes, animals and plants were continually evolving over time to create the perfect being for their environment. It was when Matthew read Darwin’s Origin of Species that he remembered reports of another work about the origin of creatures, hidden in a mysterious book of alchemy.

Opus Magnum and Symbols of Alchemy

I’d always been more interested in the symbolism of alchemy than in its practical aspects, but my afternoon with the Countess of Pembroke had shown me how intriguing the links between the two might be.

Opus magnum (or magnum opus) will be familiar to readers today as a label applied generally to epic works of creation, particularly in literature. This was the term used to describe the alchemist’s process of transmutation, with the ultimate goal of producing the sought-after philosopher’s stone. The symbolic starting point for this Great Work was known as the prima materia, or first matter, thought to be made up of opposites, in conflict with each other, that needed to be brought to a perfect state of harmony. The path to achieving this was traditionally laid out in four (or three) stages and tied to chemical color changes: nigredo (a blackening), albedo (a whitening), citrinitas (a yellowing), and rubedo (a reddening). Diana wrote an article about the color symbolism in alchemy, one that Matthew told her had fascinated him. These alchemical stages were also expanded to seven or twelve, with numerous interpretations and variations across texts, including George Ripley’s “Twelve Gates.”

Many European medieval and Renaissance theories of alchemical transmutation were based on the classical belief of the four elements: earth, air, fire, and water. According to the ancient Greeks (and other cultures such as those of Egypt, Babylonia, and Japan), everything on earth was composed of a combination of these four basic elements, and each represented types of matter: Water represented everything that flowed, earth was everything that was solid, and so on. Each was also made up of a balance of hotness, dryness, wetness, and coldness. Aristotle believed that an element could be transformed to another through altering the variations of these characteristics, a theory that many alchemists later applied to their experiments.

Paracelsus (the famous medieval physician who pioneered toxicology in medicine) also put forward the idea of the tria prima (three primes or three principles) of sulfur, salt, and mercury. These were the foundation for all matter, which needed to be in perfect balance. This was the alchemical theory he applied to his medicine, looking at disease on the basis that it could be an imbalance in the chemical compound of man.

At a basic level, the alchemical stages in the Great Work began with putrefaction and breaking down the putrefied material. The divided matter was then purified through various methods, including dissolution and separation. The final stage was a state of perfection, with the purified elements unified and hardened to produce the philosopher’s stone. The spiritual analogy for these stages was seen as an initial breaking down of the ego, purifying the elements of the divided self, and freeing the spirit on a path to ultimate wisdom and a refined, perfected soul.

In the chemical processes, there were also two paths open to alchemists, either a short dry one, using heat to separate the matter, or a longer wet path, which involved numerous distillations. Alcohol was often distilled in medieval and Renaissance alchemy to produce aqua vitae (water of life, or concentrated ethanol), which is why Diana asked for barrels of wine for her stillroom at sixteenth-century Sept-Tours. And the aqua fortis (strong water, or nitric acid) that Mary Sidney used in her laboratory to dissolve silver was also frequently produced through distillation.

Diana studied many texts that laid out these various stages of the alchemical work, including The Book of Alchemical Formulas, which she was consulting in the Bodleian at the beginning of A Discovery of Witches. But as in Ashmole 782, the secrets of these alchemical processes were very often buried in obscure narratives and imagery.

Alchemy may be early chemistry, but there are strong religious elements in the iconography, and the equipment was often borrowed from kitchens and stillrooms, traditional female spaces in the home. One of the reasons I became fascinated with the subject was the mix of scientific, religious, and domestic traditions.

Alchemical Symbolism

Much of alchemical literature is couched in complicated symbolism and allegory. Alchemists were known to be purposely mysterious about their work, believing it a science that should be open only to those deserving of its secrets. Diana has been studying and attempting to decipher this symbolism throughout her academic career and was working on a paper about the allegorical-image tradition in England when Matthew first met her in Oxford.

These are some of the basic symbols, which appear in various guises in the enigmatic alchemical texts.

Paracelsus’s three principles were also seen as symbols of the tripartite nature of man, with sulfur representing the soul, salt the body, and mercury the spirit.

See also: SCIENCE: Paracelsus

Alchemical Imagery

Godfrey de Clermont’s copy of the Aurora Consurgens, which Diana consulted at Sept-Tours, has the same text as others she’d seen, but the illustrations were quite different. Diana read descriptions of the first part of the alchemical process, nigredo in this copy of the Aurora Consurgens, and the various stages are represented in it through beautiful allegorical images.

This image of the dark sun representing the step in the alchemical process called nigredo is actually from the Splendor Solis, a famous illustrated alchemical manuscript, and the picture here comes from the British Library’s copy, Harley MS 3469, dated 1582. When thinking of Godrey de Clermont’s copy of the Aurora Consurgens, I imagined the main images would resemble those in Harley 3469, though the surrounds would be much earlier in style (as befits a work of Bourgot Le Noir, the illuminator who was active in the middle of the fourteenth century).

Here are some other allegorical images from copies of the Aurora Consurgens:

Representations of Wisdom and Justice, with the seven alchemical metals laid out on the table. The first image that Diana saw in Godfrey’s copy showed Wisdom shielding under her cloak the personifications of the seven metals.

This is a representation of the initial pulverization, the breaking down of the material and philosophical renewal. The imagery also ties in to descriptions in one of the other alchemical manuscripts Diana studied at the Bodleian: “Take your pot of mercury and seethe it over a flame for three hours,” began one set of instructions, “and when it has joined with the Philosophical Child take it and let it putrefy until the Black Crow carries it away to its death.”

Here is represented the process of raising the matter, also featuring the important ouroboros.

See also: LITERATURE: Aurora Consurgens

The Ouroboros

The ouroboros is an ancient symbol in alchemy, traditionally representing the eternal cycle of nature, creation and destruction, birth and death: “The supreme serpent is the cosmic spirit which brings everything to life, which also kills everything and takes all the figures of nature. To summarize: he is everything, and also nothing.”* This image, on which All Souls’ tenth knot is based, is from an eighteenth-century alchemical text. Surrounding the ouroboros are also the symbols for the four elements, as well as those for salt, sulfur, and mercury.

The Arbor Dianae

The arbor Dianae (Latin for tree of Diana), also known as the arbor philosophorum (the philosopher’s tree), is the beautiful treelike structure produced when silver is submerged in a bath of highly corrosive, liquid aqua fortis, or nitric acid, to which mercury has been added. In the alchemists’ laboratories, the silvery tree of the arbor Dianae could take anywhere from forty days to form from a lump of solid silver to fifteen minutes if the silver was filed finely and submerged in a particularly strong nitric acid solution. The branches of the arbor Dianae are dendritic crystals that multiply and grow much like frost patterns on a window. As a crystal is created by the chemical reaction, that crystal then branches into two parts, with each then branching into two more parts, and so on until the solution in the vessel is full. This particular crystalline tree was known by alchemists as Diana’s tree because of the presence of silver and its associations with the moon and Diana, goddess of the moon. Alchemists were struck by the crystalline shapes that grew within their glass flasks and the seemingly vegetative nature of those structures; it is no wonder that early alchemists believed in the vitality of the mineral world.

Mary Sidney created an arbor Dianae in her laboratory from traditional materials. Later she created another, to which she added some of Diana’s blood, resulting in a crystalline tree that resembled a gnarled oak. When Matthew added his own blood to that same experiment, the gnarled “oak” grew gold leaves and tiny red fruits. This chemical reaction paralleled what Matthew and Diana had discovered: that together they were able to flourish and even create new life. Back in Madison, New York, the magical blasted tree that grew in the keeping room of the Bishop house derived from a similar blending of the melted remains of Matthew’s ampulla from Bethany (which would have contained traces of mercury along with the silver) and drops of blood shed by Matthew and Diana.

The Green Lion

Diana’s research at the Bodleian included reading the work of the English alchemist George Ripley, who described making the “green lion,” a step in the process of creating the philosopher’s stone. Later, when Diana visited Mary Sidney in her laboratory, she had the opportunity to put her historical research into practice when she and Mary “hunted the green lion” together. This meant, as Diana explained to Matthew, that they combined two acid solutions with the aim of witnessing “colorful transformations.” Unfortunately, their experiment was cut short when the vessel exploded.

The green lion was the alchemists’ term for what happened when strong, green acids like sulfuric acid or nitric acid were combined with others, such as hydrochloric acid, and then applied to matter. Alchemists noted that this solution had a tendency to dissolve whatever was placed within it—vegetative or mineral—and sometimes, as Diana discovered, the entire experiment exploded from the chemical reactions. For many alchemists the green lion reminded them of the animating energy and growth of green plants. For these early scientists and philosophers, the green lion appeared to devour whatever was placed within it, representing a kind of natural energy much like the energy that enlivened the vegetable world.

The Chemical Wedding

As we have seen, alchemy was not simply the attempt to turn base metal into gold, but a mystical process based on the belief that the combination of opposing substances would result in a greater, third substance. The transmutation of base metals into gold was only the concrete representation of the spiritual goal of perfecting the unenlightened spirit.

One of the most important alchemical processes was the combination of sulfur and mercury (quicksilver). Sulfur was believed to be a masculine material, because it is volatile and fiery. Mercury, fixed and passive, was believed to be feminine. In keeping with Renaissance ideas about men and women, alchemists envisioned the masculine substance acting on the feminine substance to give it shape.

In the allegorical language of alchemy, sulfur was represented by a Red King and mercury by a White Queen. Continuing the language of opposites, the Red King was associated with the sun and the White Queen with the moon. When these two came together in a chemical wedding, they formed a whole new substance. The Ripley scroll describes this union in poetry: “Now when this Marriage is done / Philosophers call this a stone / The which hath great Nature / To bring a stone yt is so pure.”

The first missing page from Ashmole 782, which the Bishop house released to Diana and Matthew after their retreat to Madison, was a beautiful illumination of the alchemical wedding. A golden-haired woman in a white gown represents quicksilver, the principle of volatility in alchemy. She is offering a white rose, a symbol of purity, to her pale, dark-haired husband. He is dressed in black-and-red robes and holds a red rose, a token of love and death. Not only do the figures physically resemble Diana and Matthew, but the bride is also wearing Matthew’s crest, a crescent moon with star, on her head—just as Diana now wore Matthew’s crest on her back, burned into her by the witch Satu. The whole scene is gathered within the outspread wings of a phoenix, symbol of rebirth.

Diana realized that this page echoed illuminations of the male and female alchemical principles that she had seen in Matthew’s copy of the Aurora Consurgens. There the golden Sun King and silvery Moon Queen were even more closely identified with Matthew and Diana. Like a vampire, the king lies within a heavy stone sarcophagus. “She will roll away the stone from the entrance of my tomb and give me the wings of a dove so that I might fly with her to the heavens to live forever and be at rest.” The queen, a terrifying figure with silvery snakes instead of hair, entreats her lover, “Do not refuse me because I am dark and shadowed.” When Matthew and Diana’s children were born, the improbable offspring of a vampire and a witch, Diana recognized that these Bright Born children were the offspring of her own chemical wedding—and that they might be the answer to the continued existence of all creatures.

This image of Luna and Sol from Splendor Solis was the starting point for my creation of the image that Diana and Matthew discover—the chemical wedding page of Ashmole 782 that shoots out of the paneling of the house in Madison. The style of illustration is similar to what I see on the missing pages of Ashmole 782, although the details in the image are obviously different—and no, these figures don’t look like Matthew or Diana!

He found the picture of the Sun King and the Moon Queen jousting on the back of a lion and a griffin, and he smiled broadly. “Yes, this will do.”

This is the image from the Aurora Consurgens next to which Philippe de Clermont leaves one of his notes for Ysabeau.

See also: LITERATURE: Aurora Consurgens

The Philosopher’s Stone

The pursuit of the philosopher’s stone began with the attempts of ancient civilizations to impose an order on their world. In the eighth century, the alchemist Jabir ibn Hayyan (Latinized as Geber) looked to Aristotle’s physics of the four elements with their combination of four basic qualities—hotness, coldness, dryness, and wetness—and applied it to alchemy. He believed that if these basic qualities were rearranged, one type of metal could be transmuted into another. This transformation required a catalyst, which in European alchemy became known as the philosopher’s stone.

On a physical level, alchemists hoped to use the philosopher’s stone to turn base metal into gold or silver. At a higher level, the alchemical process represented a spiritual evolution from a state of imperfection to a state of perfection. Thus the philosopher’s stone was also supposed to be an elixir of life, able to cure illness or even confer immortality on its possessor.

Diana Bishop is a scholar of seventeenth-century chemistry because, despite these apparently futile attempts to transmute base metals into gold or silver, the work of alchemists provided the basis for modern scientific experimentation. When her Aunt Sarah dismissed alchemy, Diana countered hotly that the whole point of her work was to show how scientific the pursuit of alchemy actually was. Her discovery of Ashmole 782, however, forced Diana to admit that alchemy was more than the foundation of modern science—and that she personally was linked to the process.

The philosopher’s stone represents different things to different characters in the trilogy, depending on their personalities. To the practical Hamish, it’s just a legend. To Matthew it embodies what it means to be a vampire—rich, learned, and almost immortal—and he believes that Ashmole 782 may be its physical representation. To the avaricious wizard Peter Knox, it holds the promise of eternal life (and therefore eternal power). But it is Diana, initially a skeptic, who discovers the truth. As she uncovers the connections between the alchemical illustrations in Matthew’s Aurora Consurgens, Ashmole 782, and her own relationship with Matthew, she realizes that they are both involved in the transformative process of alchemy. A witch and a vampire come together and, contrary to everything they had believed possible, produce a third substance: Bright Born children, who possess the most admirable qualities of their parents but are nevertheless something entirely new.

Decorative   Arts

Interior Spaces of All Souls

The Old Lodge Parlor

The parlor was neither as cozy as the room where we’d taken our breakfast nor as imposing as the great hall. The abundance of carved armchairs, rich tapestries, and ornately framed paintings suggested that its primary purpose was to entertain the house’s most important guests. A splendid rendering of St. Jerome and his lion by Holbein hung by the fireplace. It was unfamiliar to me, as was the Holbein portrait next to it of a piggy-eyed Henry VIII holding a book and a pair of spectacles and looking pensively at the viewer, the table before him strewn with precious objects. Henry’s daughter, the first and current Queen Elizabeth, stared at him with hauteur from across the room.

The parlor in a typical, wealthy Tudor house such as the Old Lodge would have been where the family received visitors and entertained, as Diana and Matthew did with the School of Night. With its wood paneling and more formal decor, this room, like the Old Lodge overall, is based on the parlor in Speke Hall, in the north of England.

The Keeping Room, Bishop House

“We’re witches—of course the house is haunted. But it’s more than that. The house is . . . alive. It has its own ideas about visitors, and the more Bishops there are, the worse it acts up. That’s why Em and Sarah left.”

A phosphorescent smudge moved in and out of my peripheral vision. My long-dead grandmother, whom I’d never met, was sitting by the keeping room’s fireplace in an unfamiliar rocking chair.

Colonial houses had separate rooms for meeting guests, dining, cooking, and sitting as a family. The most formal of these rooms was usually the parlor, and the family’s room was often called the keeping room. In the Bishop house, an extension was added to the back of the original house. Sarah’s office is the old parlor, and the keeping room—though once the more casual room—is now used as the formal living room. In a house that has a life of its own as the Bishop residence does, the keeping room is one of many places where unpredictable things can happen. The family’s ghosts congregate there often, and Matthew and Diana returned from the past to find that a tree had erupted from the fireplace.

Mary Sidney’s Laboratory, Baynard Castle

“Have you seen Mary’s laboratory?” I exchanged the shapeless gray coat for my cloak before sending Joan away to tend to her other duties. “She’s taken over one of the castle’s towers and painted the walls with images of the philosopher’s stone. It’s like working inside a Ripley scroll! I’ve seen the Beinecke’s copy at Yale, but it’s only twenty feet long. Mary’s murals are twice as big.”

Mary Sidney commented to Diana that she knew how lucky she was to have her own laboratory and the leisure and money to experiment as she did. The historical records tell us nothing about a laboratory at Baynard’s Castle, but there are sources for Mary’s chemistry lab at Wilton House (the Pembrokes’ country seat), and her interest in alchemy is well documented. Mary’s lab in Shadow of Night contained the more expensive Venetian glass alchemical flasks so that she could clearly see her experiments as they took shape in the container, revealing the arbor Dianae in all its glory. There would also have been all sorts of crucibles and alembics for heating and distilling substances at different temperatures, as well as Mary’s notebook on the side, there for her to carefully record her experiments.

The Forest Room, Clairmont House

Ysabeau pushed open a wide, paneled door with a gleaming brass knob. I gasped. Everything in the room was in shades of green, silver, pale gray, and white. The walls were papered with hand-painted depictions of branches and leaves against a pale gray background. Silver accents gave the effect of moonlight, the mirrored moon in the center of the ceiling’s plasterwork appearing to be the source of the light. A ghostly female face looked down from the mirror with a serene smile. Four depictions of Nyx, the personification of night, anchored the four quadrants of the room’s ceiling, her veil billowing out in a smoky black drapery that was painted so realistically it looked like actual fabric. Silver stars were entangled in the veiling, catching the light from the windows and the mirror’s reflection. “It is extraordinary, I agree,” Ysabeau said, pleased by my reaction. “Matthew wanted to create the effect of being outside in the forest, under a moonlit sky. Once this bedchamber was decorated, he said it was too beautiful to use and moved to the room next door.”

The Forest Room in Clairmont House is on the second floor and is the most stunningly decorated room in the place. Ysabeau believed that Matthew had made it for Diana without realizing it, complete with the Elizabethan bed his future self had shared with her in Tudor London, set into a recess in the wall. Inspiration for this room was taken from a Georgian English bedroom interior, following a Chinese Chippendale style that was popular in mid-eighteenth-century London.

The Art, Fashion, and Jewelry of All Souls

The de Clermonts and Bishops have collected an incredible array of paintings, objects, fashion, and jewelry through the centuries. Phoebe Taylor is in awe of the many priceless pieces stored in their attics or still used in their everyday lives. She has begun to catalog some of the items that are significant to the family. Here you can browse their weird and wonderful collection and find out more about each item’s extraordinary background and its place in the All Souls world.

Paintings

Works by Hans Holbein

Hans Holbein the Younger (c. 1497–1543) was one of the most famous artists of the sixteenth century. Born in Augsburg, in what is now part of Germany, son of painter Hans Holbein the Elder, Holbein then moved to Basel, Switzerland, and worked there as a young artist on religious paintings, murals, and printed books. Slowly he gained international fame through his portraits. He spent many years in England, rising to become king’s painter to Henry VIII in the 1530s. He produced numerous portraits of the royal family as well as of important court figures during that period, capturing his subjects with a stunningly precise and discerning eye. Matthew de Clermont, with an appreciation for only the best in art, owns a number of his paintings, all of which are stored or on display in the Old Lodge.

Henry VIII with Book and Spectacles (c. 1540)

Hans Holbein the Younger

The Old Lodge, Woodstock, England

Background: This Holbein that hung in the sixteenth-century parlor of Matthew’s Old Lodge was unfamiliar to Diana when she saw it, one of many art treasures that Matthew had tucked away throughout his houses. There is no record of Holbein’s ever producing such a portrait. Many of his paintings have been lost; Holbein’s original iconic portrait of Henry VIII, standing in a wide-legged, kingly stance, was destroyed in a fire. In Matthew's Holbein, the depiction of Henry, standing before a table holding precious objects, is more pensive than that well-known image. The book and spectacles perhaps allude to Henry’s image of himself as a scholar and Defender of the Faith. Henry’s title of Defender of the Faith was given to him originally by the pope after he wrote the book Assertio Septem Sacramentorum (Defense of the Seven Sacraments), which countered the ideas of Luther and included, ironically, ideas on the sacrament of marriage. The pope revoked Henry’s title after the king broke with Rome and made himself head of a new Church of England so that he could marry Anne Boleyn.

St. Jerome and His Lion (c. 1534)

Hans Holbein the Younger

The Old Lodge, Woodstock, England

Background: The unfamiliar Holbein that Diana saw hanging alongside the portrait of Henry VIII in the sixteenth-century parlor of the Old Lodge was of St. Jerome. The saint was commonly represented with a lion, alluding to the legend of him pulling a thorn from a lion’s paw. There is no record of Holbein’s having created this painting either, but he did many religious paintings early in his career that are now lost.

Margaret More, Daughter of Sir Thomas More (1535–36)

Hans Holbein the Younger

The Old Lodge, Woodstock, England

Background: Phoebe was horrified to see a Holbein portrait of Margaret More (1505-44) casually hung in a bathroom of the modern-day Old Lodge. As Ysabeau revealed, there were far larger portraits of the family in the attic. This previously unknown small portrait could have been the inspiration for the well-known miniature that Holbein later painted of Margaret to accompany one of her husband, William Roper. Margaret, a writer and translator, was famed as one of the most scholarly women of her time and was devoted to her father, Thomas More. Margaret’s age marked on the miniature seems to suggest that it was painted just after the execution of her father.

Thomas More and Family (c. 1526–28)

Hans Holbein the Younger

The Old Lodge, Woodstock, England

Background: Ysabeau casually told Phoebe that More’s whole “sainted” family was somewhere in one of the Old Lodge attics. The evidence that Holbein produced such a work comes from his preparatory sketch of the family, which still survives, as well as copies of the final painting, which differ slightly from the sketch. Matthew’s copy of More’s family portrait includes depictions of More; his father and son; his second wife, Alice; and his daughters.

Holbein was recommended to Thomas More by his friend Erasmus, the humanist scholar based in the Netherlands. When Holbein first came to England in 1526, it is thought that he probably stayed with the Mores at their house in Chelsea, on the outskirts of London. Thomas More was later executed for treason when he refused to acknowledge Henry VIII as the new head of the Church of England, and he was venerated by Catholics as a principled martyr. Historians’ views about him differ widely, with bias on both sides. Many argue he was not the saint he had been made out to be. Ysabeau thought him an arrogant young man.

Other Old Masters

Portrait of the Minister Johannes Bogardus (c. 1610–11)

Frans Hals

Helderberg Huis, Amsterdam, Netherlands

Background: Frans Hals (c. 1582/3–1666), a Dutch portrait painter based in Haarlem, became famous for his looser painting style, which Ysabeau commented made his work look unfinished. His approach had a huge influence on art in his country in that period, and it was only natural that Matthew would have collected his paintings, having relocated to Amsterdam around this time. The painting that Ysabeau referred to of the “gloomy minister” is Hals’s lost Portrait of the Minister Johannes Bogardus, now known only from an engraving by Jan van de Velde, pictured here.

Bogardus was a preacher in Haarlem, having fled to the city from Bruges, Belgium, in 1584. He died in Haarlem in 1614. This was not the last work Matthew commissioned from Hals. In 1617 Matthew asked Hals to paint a group portrait of several members of the Knights of Lazarus, including Godfrey de Clermont and Gallowglass. It is reminiscent in style to Hals’s early masterpiece The Banquet of the Officers of the St. George Militia Company in 1616. This is so large it takes up an entire wall of Matthew’s house in Amsterdam.

Unknown Married Couple (c. 1750s)

Joshua Reynolds

Clairmont House, London, England

Background: This life-size double portrait of Ysabeau and Philippe de Clermont hung over a fireplace in Clairmont House. It made a strong impression on Diana when she first saw it, not just for its vividness but for the perception of the artist in capturing Philippe and Ysabeau’s relationship. The man, in a cream-and-blue silk suit with a sword hung from his belt, smiles as he glances sideways at his wife. She, dressed in a cream-and-gold silk dress, looks directly at the viewer, her hand resting gently in her husband’s fingers. At the end of The Book of Life, the picture was loaned out for a Joshua Reynolds exhibition, its place on the wall taken by Jack Blackfriars’s portrait of Diana and Matthew.

Joshua Reynolds (1723–92) was a prolific eighteenth-century English painter who became the first president of the Royal Academy of Arts in London and was knighted by George III. There are no records of Reynolds’s having created this painting, but three separate works of English gentry he produced at the time give a sense of the style, color, and elements in the painting.

Portrait of a Lady (c. 1665)

Sir Peter Lely

Gatehouse, the Old Lodge, Woodstock, England

Background: Diana saw this portrait of Matthew’s striking and terrifying sister, Louisa de Clermont, hanging above one of the mantelpieces in the modern-day Old Lodge. It depicts a dark-haired woman in a yellow gown, looking boldly out at the viewer. This is quite similar to Peter Lely’s Portrait of a Lady, probably Mary Parsons, later Mrs. Draper. Peter Lely (1618–80) was a famous painter of Dutch origin who lived most of his life in England. He painted for both the Crown and Parliament through the troubled period of the English Civil War and later the Restoration. By the end of his career, Lely had a large workshop of painters creating an enormous output. This lady captures the dangerous allure that Louisa would have held for humans.

Miniatures of an Unknown Couple (c. 1590)

Nicholas Hilliard

Les Revenants, France

Background: Marcus was stunned when he discovered these two miniatures at Sotheby’s (not to mention being quite taken with the employee who showed them to him). A wedding gift to Diana and Matthew from their friend Mary Sidney, the paintings capture the two of them as the mysterious Roydons of the sixteenth century and convey an intimacy that suggests they were meant only for the eyes of husband and wife. The woman has long golden hair tinged with red, her face framed by an open-necked ruff against a vivid blue background, common to Hilliard’s pieces. Her eyes are pale, and she smiles gently at the viewer. The miniature of the man shows him with black hair brushed back from his face, his white linen shirt open, and his long fingers holding a jewel suspended from a chain. Flames twist in the background behind him, a symbol of passion. They are a beautiful memento of Diana and Matthew’s journey to Elizabethan England.

When I started writing A Discovery of Witches, I knew precisely which image captured the elusive creature Matthew Roydon: this portrait of an unknown man caught in flames. We once thought Nicholas Hilliard painted it, but now we’re not so sure and believe it might have been painted by his apprentice Isaac Oliver. Like Matthew himself, this man among flames is caught in a world of secrets and unmet desires. Yet when his calm eyes meet ours, we can’t help wanting to know him better.

Like many writers, I try to make every detail of my books as accurate as possible. Even so, I make mistakes! But what does “accurate” mean for fiction? As a historian, I have a clear idea of what I’m trying to achieve (and yes, even historians make mistakes). When writing history, nothing can be fudged—you have to be as transparent as possible about every missing link, slip, possible error in your writing. In fiction, a little historical fudge is sometimes necessary to make a story work. Take this miniature of a woman by Nicholas Hilliard, for instance. It features in the story and looks just like Diana. But even though it was right in many ways, it’s supposed to be Elizabeth of Bohemia and, based on clothing, was painted a bit later than 1590. So I chose a different image and worked with that. But it wasn’t entirely satisfying. Then I went back to this image. It’s not dated. It’s not positively attributed in Hilliard’s hand as being Elizabeth of Bohemia. It doesn’t look like any other picture of Elizabeth of Bohemia. Who is it really? Could it be Diana? In the end, I returned to this image and decided that, within the confines of Shadow of Night, it could serve as a miniature of Diana in 1590—that a little historical fudge was okay. If I were writing a scholarly article on portrait miniatures, would I make this claim? No. But that’s one of the joys of writing fiction!

The Trees Have Ears and the Field Has Eyes, triptych altarpiece (late fifteenth century)

Hieronymus Bosch

De Clermont Family Chapel, Sept-Tours, France

Background: “The forest has eyes, and the woods have ears; therefore I will see, be silent, and hear”; this proverb is depicted in the exterior image of the altarpiece that was a gift to Holy Roman Emperor Rudolf II. Made up of three hinged wood panels, the triptych is characteristically rich in Bosch’s strange imagery. The exterior is covered in a velvety black pigment, with a wizened tree spanning the front panels, a wolf crouched in its roots, an owl perched in the branches, and eyes shining out from the background. Behind the dead oak tree is a forest of other trees that, on closer inspection, have ears growing from them. The interior three panels show three interrelated scenes: fallen angels, the dead rising for the Last Judgment, and, in the center, the resurrected Lazarus climbing from his coffin. Rudolf II was delighted with Matthew de Clermont’s gift of this Bosch altarpiece when Matthew and Diana visited his court in Prague. It didn’t mean he would give them what they wanted in return, however.

Hieronymus Bosch—or Jeroen, as Mathew knew him—was a painter from the Netherlands in the late fifteenth century (c. 1450–1516) whose work became famous for its bizarre combinations and fantastical, often macabre scenes. Bosch did several large altarpieces, his most famous perhaps The Garden of Earthly Delights. His drawing The Trees Have Ears and the Field Has Eyes, perhaps a sketch for part of the de Clermont altarpiece, is now in the Kupferstich-Sammlung der königliche Museum, Berlin. Matthew revealed to Diana that Bosch had once seen him feed, which was why the image of Lazarus on the altarpiece looked very like him; Bosch subsequently believed that all creatures had a dual nature of half human, half animal. The piece made its way back into de Clermont hands following the death of Rudolf ii and the dispersal of his prized art collection.

Diana Interrupted at Her Toilette by Actaeon (1590s)

Bartholomew Spranger

Armorer’s Tower Storeroom, Sept-Tours, France

Background: Bartholomeus Spranger (1546–1611) was an influential Flemish artist of the late sixteenth century, as well as a sculptor, draftsman, and etcher, who became known for his distinctive style and the openly erotic nature of his works. He was a star of the imperial court, and Diana was lucky enough to see one of his new paintings of Venus rising from her bath among Rudolf’s art collection. Tadeáš Hájek reported uncomfortably that the picture was “very large and . . . ah, detailed,” with a striking resemblance to the emperor’s mistress. Diana later heard that Rudolf had instructed Spranger to produce a new study of Diana interrupted at her toilette. There are no records of Spranger’s having created such a painting, but in fact Philippe de Clermont purchased it after Rudolf’s death, and it remains in storage. It would look similar to Spranger’s famous image of Venus and Adonis (without the lovers’ embrace).

Diana Bishop and Matthew Clairmont (2010)

Jack Blackfriars

Clairmont House, London, England

Background: Jack’s artistic talent is channeled into exorcising the terrors he has suffered for centuries. The macabre murals he produced in New Haven revealed some of the terrible demons that haunt him. With this painting of Diana and Matthew, Jack showed his newfound stability, as well as love and devotion for his parents. Diana sits in an Elizabethan chair, with Matthew standing behind her. They both look at the viewer as he reaches over her shoulder to clasp her raised left hand, their fingers intertwined. Diana’s left wrist is exposed, revealing an ouroboros circling her pulse, the symbol of the Bishop-Clairmonts. The painting hangs in the spot above the mantelpiece where Philippe and Ysabeau’s portrait once was.

Objects

A Silver-Gilt Mousetrap (late sixteenth century)

Attributed to Nicholas Vallin

Les Revenants, France

Exquisitely worked silver-gilt mousetrap, featuring a watchful cat with lethal teeth and a mouse perched on its nose. The piece is engraved with Hippocrates’ aphorism Ars longa, vita brevis (Art is long, but life is short). The rest of the aphorism appears around the base: Occasio praeceps, experimentum periculosum, iudicium difficile (Opportunity is fleeting, experiment dangerous, and judgment difficult). Though the piece is not signed, it is reliably attributed to Nicholas Vallin.

Background: In sixteenth-century London, Diana was concerned that Matthew’s library would be eaten by the vermin that ran rampant in the attic. She commissioned the craftsman Nicholas Vallin, known now for his exquisite clocks, to devise a trap based on a design from a pamphlet she found in John Chandler’s shop in Cripplegate. The pamphlet was “Booke of Engines (and traps to take Polcats, Buzardes, Rattes, Mice and all other kindes of Vermine and beast whatsoever, most profitable for all Warriners, and such as delight in this kinde of sport and pastime)” by Leonard Mascall, 1590.

The trap’s cost was three times what an Elizabethan servant might make in a year, and Matthew reserved the right to tease Diana about it for the next sixty years. Loyal vampire Alain kept it hidden for centuries, ensuring that it passed back to Diana on her return to the present day.

Diana-and-Stag Automaton (late sixteenth century)

Joachim Friess

Armory Tower Storeroom, Sept-Tours, France

The goddess Diana, riding sidesaddle on the back of a stag with a pair of hunting dogs at her feet. Silver and gilt, enameled, and set with jewels, about 15 inches high by 10 inches wide.

Background: Matthew was not pleased when Diana received this suggestive gift from Rudolf II. The automaton he gave her would have been similar to a later piece, currently owned by the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, made by Joachim Friess around the year 1620. You can even watch it in motion.*

Automata were popular in the period and were made in many European cities. This one was intended for use in a drinking game known as Trinkspiel. The automaton was wound up and run down the table; when it stopped in front of a gentleman, he had to remove the stag’s head and drink the contents of its hollow body. If it stopped in front of a lady, she had to do the same with one of the two hunting dogs.

The de Clermont automaton was deposited in the armory storeroom by Gallowglass de Clermont at an unknown date, wrapped in a brown burlap sack. It is not, at present, in working order.

Compendium with Lunar Volvelle (late sixteenth century)

Erasmus Habermel

Les Revenants, France

Brass-and-silver compendium, an instrument that carries numerous devices for telling the time and performing astronomical calculations, in the de Clermont private collection. This compendium includes a sundial, a compass, an intricate lunar volvelle—whose gears could be set to tell the date, time, ruling sign of the zodiac, and phase of the moon—and, for unknown reasons, a latitude chart that includes the cities of Roanoke, London, Lyon, Prague, and Jerusalem. It also features an erasable tablet, made of specially treated paper that could be written on and then wiped off to make fresh notes.

Background: Erasmus Habermel (c. 1538–1606) was one of the sixteenth century’s most prominent mathematical instrument makers. Diana’s compendium, which Rudolf instructed Habermel to create for her, is based on a combination of devices. The general structure of it would be similar to a piece made by the instrument maker Johann Anton Linden in 1596 (now held at the British Museum), with the details in Habermel’s distinctive style. Other Habermel examples include a compendium once owned by Johannes Kepler, held at the National Technical Museum in Prague, and an astronomical compendium held at the Louvre in Paris. Alain returned Diana’s compendium to her in the present day, along with other significant items from her trip to the past.

Various members of Diana’s household supposed that the compendium was enchanted and called it the witch clock, but Diana and Gallowglass finally worked out that the compendium was searching for the missing pages of the Book of Life. And eventually the enchanted compendium did help Diana complete her search, pointing them to the daemon Timothy Weston’s house in Chipping Weston, Oxfordshire.

A Clepsydra or Water Clock (1560)

Design by Oronce Finé

Square Tower Attic, Sept-Tours, France

A clepsydra, or water clock, an ancient method of keeping time using the regulated flow of liquid into and out of a vessel, by the renowned mathematician and cartographer Oronce Finé. The clock was originally constructed and given to King François I of France. It was thought lost but has now been discovered in the de Clermont private collection.

Background: Oronce Finé (1494–1555) was born around the time of the European discovery of America and turned his intellect to the explorations of the era. He became a celebrated mathematician and cartographer, and his heart-shaped map projection influenced other famous cartographers, such as Gerardus Mercator. He was also interested in instruments of many kinds, including astronomical equipment.

The water clock, based on the design from De solaribus of horologiis, & Quadrantibus, Paris, Guillaume Cavellat, S.D. (1560), is widely believed to have disappeared. In fact François lost it to the vampire Philippe de Clermont in a card game. Philippe instituted a happy tradition of winding the device and firing the guns for the delight of the children on Saturnalia. Sadly, the mechanisms did not always work as intended, especially not after Philippe started tinkering with them. The condition of the clock is very poor, and there are several pieces missing. It shows signs of fire damage.

White Queen Chess Piece, Silver (sixteenth century)

Unattributed

Les Revenants, France

Silver chess piece, slightly under four inches tall, depicting the Roman goddess Diana with her companion animal, the stag. Diana is in motion, one foot striding forward while she reaches over her shoulder to draw an arrow from her quiver. Her other hand rests on the antlers of the stag.

Background: To journey back to the past, Diana and Matthew needed three objects from the time and place to which they were traveling, this being one of them. It was taken from Matthew’s costly silver chess set in the sixteenth-century Old Lodge. This depiction of the Roman goddess is modeled on a slightly oversize marble sculpture held at the Louvre in Paris. The sculpture is known as the Diana of Versailles and is a first- or second-century Roman copy of a lost Greek original, in bronze. Interestingly, the bow has broken off, leaving the goddess in the same predicament that Diana Bishop found herself in just before killing Benjamin.

Wooden Box, Rowan (with Tree Carving) (late sixteenth century)

Unattributed

Les Revenants, France

Small box carved of rowan, with a tree incised on the lid, roots and branches intertwined. Held together by nearly invisible joints.

Background: In sixteenth-century London, Diana needed a spell box—a place to store her weaver’s cords and to place her written spells until they were ready for another witch to use. A London wizard made the box for her from the rowan branch that Corra the firedrake gave Diana on the night she cast her forspell. Marjorie told her the rowan symbolized life and death and that it had chosen Diana because she herself could be in both worlds. When Diana went back to the present day, one of Matthew’s servants hid the box in storage, and it was preserved through the centuries. Diana keeps it at her home, Les Revenants, in France.

Chairs

ELIZABETHAN CARVED ARMCHAIR

This is the type of chair that Diana became accustomed to in the parlor of the sixteenth-century Old Lodge in Woodstock. The Elizabethan design was influenced by Gothic and Renaissance styles from Holland and Germany, with intricate ornamentation and carving, often of fruit and flowers. Elizabethan chairs were usually made of oak.

WINDSOR ROCKING CHAIR

The Windsor chair originated in England and was brought to America by the early English settlers, where the form was refined and perfected. The chair is characterized by a solid wooden seat into which holes are drilled to accommodate the turned pieces that form the back and sides. Windsor chairs were plentiful at the Bishop house in Madison; Sarah sat in one in the keeping room, waiting impatiently as the house spat various objects out of the chimney and walls, summoning Diana so that it could give her a missing page of the Book of Life.

QUEEN ANNE CHAIRS

In the second quarter of the eighteenth century, furniture design evolved to use more curving lines and classical proportions, a style known as late Baroque, early Georgian, or Queen Anne. The corner chair in which Gallowglass sat in the Clairmont House reception room was strong and comfortable—especially for someone like him. It allowed for the necessary manspread. On that same occasion, Ysabeau sat in a high-backed Queen Anne chair. It was upholstered in damask, and its frame was covered in silver leaf.

BIRTHING CHAIR

When Diana was in labor with the twins, she first tried it the modern way, lying down. Marthe, a midwife, immediately saw the trouble: “She needs a stool.”

In medieval and early modern Europe, some women delivered in bed, some kneeling, and some standing while attendants supported them by the arms. Others sat in a birthing stool or chair, also known as a groaning stool, a device that had been used on and off since the days of the ancient Egyptians. The stool or chair had three or four legs, a cutout seat, and often a slanted back. The seat was usually only eight to ten inches off the floor so that the woman had that to brace her feet against. Giving birth in this way allowed gravity to help with the process and reduced the pain of childbirth. Modern birthing chairs are still used in some hospitals today.

MATTHEW’S STRANGE CHAIR

Diana discovered this chair in Matthew’s study when she was prowling around Clairmont House, missing him. “It was surprisingly comfortable, and I imagined Matthew sitting here, reading for hours in the ample light from the windows.”

Matthew’s chair was based on a Georgian-style reading chair at the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, made around 1725–35 of mahogany and leather. It is intended to be sat on backward, facing the book stand at the back, and has swing-out drawers for holding writing tools.

SAVONAROLA CHAIR

A Savonarola chair is an X-shaped folding chair that has narrow, sometimes curved, wooden slats for legs. The X-shaped chair was popularized in medieval Italy, but the form was first known to exist in ancient Egypt, Greece, and Rome. The Savonarola chair received its name in the nineteenth century after the fifteenth-century monk Girolamo Savonarola, because monks often had folding chairs in their cells. Baldwin sat in a Savonarola chair in the de Clermont family library as he awaited Diana and Matthew’s answer to his summons after their return from sixteenth-century London.

CONGREGATION CHAIR: DE CLERMONTS

In the huge chamber of the Congregation headquarters, located on Isola della Stella in the Venetian lagoon, members sit around an oval table on high-backed chairs. These are Renaissance in style, and each has a symbol to match the individual member’s lock and key, including the de Clermonts’. As soon as she entered the room for her first Congregation meeting as a de Clermont, Diana could see instantly which chair was hers.

MORRIS CHAIR

Matthew’s rooms in All Souls College at Oxford held a variety of William Morris furniture, along with an assortment of other antiques. After her first visit, Diana retained a vivid image of him sitting in his Morris chair reading, his forehead creased with concentration.

William Morris was a gifted nineteenth-century English designer who believed that utility and beauty went hand in hand: He famously said, “Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.” In 1865 his firm Morris, Marshall, Faulkner & Co. in London designed the Morris chair, whose signature features were an adjustable reclining back and comfortable cushions. Within a few years, variations of it were being produced in factories and shops all over the world. The American versions tended to be more angular, with leather cushions, but one suspects that Matthew’s chair would have looked like the one in the illustration, which was actually manufactured by a later incarnation of the Morris company. The beauty-loving Matthew must have felt an instinctive affinity for Morris designs.

Pair of Cradles (twenty-first century)

Les Revenants, France

Two identically carved and painted wooden cradles with curved bases, hanging inside wooden stands on level feet. The cradles are made of rowan wood, with acorn-shaped finials; a firedrake’s sinuous tail provides the arc for the cradles’ rockers. Stand made of American white oak.

Background: After Matthew’s encounter with Ransome in New Orleans in The Book of Life and his reminder of the ravages of blood rage, he felt sickened and unfit to see Diana. Luckily, Fernando had just arrived, and he set out to help Matthew purge himself of lingering remorse and self-hatred so that he could return to Diana as soon as possible. Fernando’s prescription was hard physical labor, building cradles for the coming twins. Matthew and Jack Blackfriars labored for a week and turned out two works of art.

The model for Matthew’s and Jack’s cradles was Perspectival Drawing of a Cradle by the fifteenth-century German designer, sculptor, and printmaker Peter Flötner (c. 1490–1546). It seemed like just the kind of craft project for a carpenter’s son and his first-time apprentice, Jack, to take on.

Carved Tudor Bed (c. 1540)

Clairmont House, London, England

Elaborately carved oak English bed with tester.

Background: The poor in sixteenth-century England slept on straw pallets or mats covered with a sheet. The rich could afford the luxury of a bed, away from the insects and vermin on the rush-covered floors. The standard was a heavy wooden bed with elaborately carved posts and headboard, a tester (wooden canopy supported by the four posts), and often bed curtains to keep out drafts. Mattresses were filled with down and feathers.

When Diana and Matthew first arrived in sixteenth-century England, they slept in just such a bed at their house in Blackfriars, London. Back in the twenty-first century at Clairmont House in London, Diana was delighted to find that her bedroom contained the very same bed, preserved over more than four centuries.

Clock Radio (1975)

General Electric

Bishop House, Madison, New York, USA

Standard 1970s-era clock radio, unremarkable except for the fact that it plays only Fleetwood Mac—and will not stop when unplugged.

Background: When Diana began practicing her magic with Sarah in the Madison house’s stillroom, Sarah was unaccountably distressed to find Rebecca Bishop’s 1970s-era clock radio in one of the cupboards. Her horror grew to a fever pitch when the unplugged radio began to play “Rhiannon” from Fleetwood Mac’s eponymously named 1975 album. Diana’s mother, Rebecca Bishop, had loved Fleetwood Mac and played the album incessantly during her pregnancy with Diana. After two days the desperate Sarah smashed the radio to bits, but the house persevered in playing Fleetwood Mac out of record players, eight-track-tape machines, and finally the furnace. The house continued to serenade them until Diana and Matthew left for New Haven, at which point the car’s radio sent them off with 1977’s “Don’t Stop (Thinking About Tomorrow).” The same model of radio that Sarah destroyed has since reappeared mysteriously in the Bishop house.

Rune Disks (second century)

Private Collection, Exact Whereabouts Unknown

Twenty-four wooden disks, one inch across and a quarter inch thick, with runic symbols burned on. In Elder Futhark, the oldest runic alphabet. Made of ash. Date unknown; possibly second-century Norse.

Background: At the simplest level, runes are the letters that were used in several Germanic alphabets before the Latin alphabet was adopted. But runic symbols probably existed long before the earliest written languages, for purposes of magic and divination. A poem in the collection of Norse poems called the Poetic Edda recommends carving victory runes on swords. And in graves in Norway and Sweden from the fifth century through the seventh, rune-inscribed stones have been found facing the corpse.

A a creature of Norse descent, Gallowglass was familiar with the magical use of runes. After Matthew’s sister Verin called to summon Gallowglass to Sept-Tours for Matthew and Diana’s return from the past, Gallowglass consulted his own set of runes for guidance. For his present circumstances, he drew the rune nyd, which represents absence and desire—clearly referring to his love for Diana. For the future he drew odal, representing home, family, and inheritance. For the rune that would show him how to fulfill his desire to belong, he drew rad. “It was a confusing rune, one that stood for both an arrival and a departure, a journey’s beginning and its ending, a first meeting as well as a long-awaited reunion. Gallowglass’s hand closed around the bit of wood. This time its meaning was clear.”

Venetian Glass Flask (sixteenth century)

The Old Lodge, Woodstock, England

A rare survival of a large glass flask, with a rounded base and funnel neck, from the alchemical laboratory of the Countess of Pembroke, Mary Sidney. Produced by highly skilled Venetian glassmakers.

Background: Venetian glass has been a standard for quality for many centuries. Glassmaking was originally an Eastern skill, and Venice was geographically well placed to learn those superior methods. When Constantinople was captured by the West in 1204 during the Fourth Crusade, Byzantine glassmakers fled to Venice, bringing techniques that would transform the craft. In the late thirteenth century, the factories were moved to the island of Murano, where they are still found today.

By the end of the sixteenth century, there was such a demand for glass that glassmakers had set up shop in other European locations—for example, the English county of Sussex—but nothing matched the quality of Venetian glass. As a wealthy woman in sixteenth-century London, Mary Sidney would have preferred to use Venetian glass for her alchemical experiments. Though Sussex glass was less expensive, it was marred with imperfections and faint shadows, which would have hindered Mary’s view of what was growing inside: in this case the arbor Dianae. This flask found its way into the hands of Matthew Roydon and was miraculously preserved among his collection at the Old Lodge.

Bodleian Library Tote Bag (twenty-first century)

Clairmont House, London

Cotton tote bag featuring the oath that every Bodleian reader must speak aloud before gaining admittance to the library. Size: 410 by 380 by 100 millimeters. Made in England; available from the Bodleian Library shop. Bag: a few quid. Contents: priceless.

Background: When Diana attended her first Congregation meeting, she carried with her the Book of Life in a simple Bodleian Library tote bag, inscribed with the reader’s oath to “hereby undertake not to remove from the Library, or to mark, deface, or injure in any way, any volume, document, or other object belonging to it or in its custody.” Ironic considering that Diana had broken into Duke Humfrey’s and stolen Ashmole 782. The precious Book of Life no longer showed any text, of course—that was written on and within Diana’s body.

Chess Set (twelfth century)

Cadzow Lodge, Scotland

Chess set of 78 pieces, carved out of walrus ivory and ebony. Size ranges from 3.5 centimeters to 10.2 centimeters, depending on the piece.

Background: Shortly after he first met Diana at Oxford, Matthew visited his best friend, Hamish Osborne, at his hunting lodge in Lanarkshire. He was craving Diana and needed to talk. While circling the subject of Diana, the two played billiards, then chess, on a large, ancient chessboard with carved ivory and ebony pieces that Matthew had given to Hamish.

Hamish’s chess set is similar to the famed Lewis chessmen, a set from the twelfth century that was discovered in Scotland in the nineteenth century. Most of the pieces are now at the British Museum in London, with eleven others at the National Museum of Scotland in Edinburgh. The figures look comically glum to the modern eye, but scholars believe their expressions were intended to convey strength and wisdom. When Gallowglass was downsizing, he gave the set to Matthew for safekeeping. Later, when Matthew was looking for a special gift for Hamish’s new house, Gallowglass suggested he give him “that old set of mine that’s gathering dust in the Old Lodge.”

Duchess of Marlborough Cello (1739)

Domenico Montagnana

Private Collection

Varnish: Golden-orange

Back: Two-piece

Length of back: 74.1 centimeters

Upper bouts: 36.1 centimeters

Middle bouts: 26.1 centimeters

Lower bouts: 44.55 centimeters

Background: Domenico Montagnana (1686–1750) was a master maker of violins, violas, and double basses, but he was most famous for his cellos. Montagnana’s style of design was bold and unrestrained, and the carving around the edges of his cellos was downright voluptuous. For this reason Matthew’s cello was dubbed the Duchess of Marlborough, after Sarah Churchill, one of the most famous beauties of the era. There are no records of this cello, but Montagnana did produce a cello named the Duchess of Cleveland in 1740.

Matthew’s cello disappeared from Sept-Tours while he was in New Orleans during the early nineteenth century. Philippe’s explanation was vague, and it was not until Jack Blackfriars showed up in New Haven that Matthew knew what had become of it: Philippe had given it to Jack long before to help him exorcise the twin demons of abuse and blood rage. As Jack covered the walls of Gallowglass’s condo with painful scenes of the violence he had both suffered and inflicted, Matthew played him the Lacrimosa from Johann Christian Bach’s Requiem on this cello.

Montblanc Meisterstück Solitaire Doué Stainless Steel Classique Mechanical Pencil (twenty-first century)

Sept-Tours; Les Revenants; Clairmont House, London; Helderberg Huis, Amsterdam; the Old Lodge, Woodstock

A Meisterstück Solitaire Doué mechanical pencil, made of black resin and stainless steel, in the Montblanc classic design.

Background: Matthew de Clermont is a creature of habit, and when he finds something he likes, he sticks with it. For twenty-first-century writing, he is fond of the Montblanc line of pens and pencils—not because they are stylish, or expensive, but because he likes their reliability and the smooth way they write. Matthew was born in a very different age, and so disposable pens and pencils make no sense to him. Why not buy one you really like and take good care of it? In his study at Sept-Tours, Diana found that the top right-hand drawer of his desk held Montblanc pens neatly separated from the Montblanc mechanical pencils, and paper clips arranged by size. In the Bodleian he uses a mechanical pencil, since pens are prohibited to protect the priceless manuscripts from harm.

Iron Key (fifteenth century)

Private Collection

Approximately 12 centimeters long, heavy and ornate. Decorated with a bow in the shape of an ourobouros and star-shaped wards. Made in 1454. From the de Clermont private collection.

Background: When Matthew was captured by Benjamin in The Book of Life, Diana was tasked with convincing the Congregation to help rescue him. Initially she was puzzled as to how she could serve as a Congregation member, because she was neither a vampire nor a de Clermont. But Baldwin observed that the de Clermont representative did not have to be a vampire and that as Philippe’s blood-sworn daughter, she was a de Clermont. And so he handed over to her their family’s ornate key to the council chamber’s door.

At the Congregation’s headquarters on Isola della Stella, each of the eight other Congregation members had his or her own key, too, slotted into the respective locks of the council chamber’s door. Diana inserted hers into the ninth, and so her first Congregation meeting began.

Sword (late sixteenth century)

Armaments Room, Armory Tower, Sept-Tours, France

Late sixteenth-century swept-hilt rapier of French origin. Forty-eight inches long. From the de Clermont private collection.

Background: While Matthew and Diana were at Sept-Tours in the sixteenth century, Philippe goaded Matthew into a swordfight in the hay barn. The long, tapering sword that Matthew used might have been a rapier, which was lighter and longer bladed than earlier swords. The rapier originated in Italy and Spain and was used throughout Europe as the sixteenth century progressed. It reflected the move toward the idea of swordfighting as a private duel between two men, as opposed to combatants on the battlefield. Philippe, on the other hand, used a shorter sword in conjunction with a shield, in the manner of the ancient Greeks.

This rapier, of French origin in the late sixteenth century, is an example of the type of sword Matthew might have used.

French Dagger (late fifteenth century)

Armaments Room, Armory Tower, Sept-Tours, France

Dagger made of steel, bronze, and bone.

Background: Philippe’s dagger that Diana used to kill the wizard André Champier might look something like this one, modeled on a late fifteenth-century weapon held at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It would have fit quite effectively in Philippe’s boot—not to mention Champier’s heart.

Jeweled “Unicorn” (Narwhal) Horn Cup (late sixteenth century)

Schloss Klarberg, Germany

Cup made of narwhal horn, enameled in gold and decorated with gemstones. The handle at the top is composed of a double cameo, probably made by the Miseroni workshop in Milan.

Background: According to Rudolf’s personal physician, Anselmus Boëtius de Boodt, the unicorn’s horn was unsurpassed at identifying, forestalling, and counteracting the effects of any kind of poison. This made it perfect for administering medication to Diana in Prague. Rudolf was pleased that his remedy was effective, being unaware that Diana had faked illness to avoid him and never touched his noxious brew of mustard seed, juniper berries, and camphor.

Rudolf II’s cabinet of curiosities included a cup supposedly made from a unicorn horn (actually the horn of a narwhal, a whale that has a large tusk in the form of a protruding tooth), created between 1600 and 1605, just after Matthew and Diana were in the city. The gold enameling and precious stones on this cup were executed by Rudolf’s personal jeweler, Jan Vermeyen.

Baldwin de Clermont found the cup in a house in Prague and took it to his home in Germany. A similar cup is now held at the Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna.

Herm in a Niche (1600–1610)

Ottavio Miseroni

Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna

This carving of a female figure with auburn hair combines two forms of the art of stonecutting: cutting figures out of hard stone such as chalcedony, and commesso (also known as Florentine mosaic), the technique of adding hard stone or gemstones to a basic carving for decorative effect. Measures 16 centimeters by 8 centimeters. The commesso is composed of moss agate, carnelian, jasper, and mother-of-pearl. This piece is on loan to the museum from the de Clermont private collection.

Background: A herm is a statue in the form of a square or rectangular stone pillar topped by a bust or head, especially of the god Hermes. In ancient Greece, herms were used as boundary markers; later on they were for decorative purposes only. Herm in a Niche, an example of this genre, was crafted by Ottavio Miseroni (1567–1624).

The Miseroni family had been lapidary artists since the year 1460. Various kings and emperors competed for the services of such artists, setting them up with private workshops in their own courts, as Rudolf II did with Ottavio Miseroni and his brothers. When Diana was in sixteenth-century Prague, Rudolf asked that she sit for Ottavio and have her likeness “engraved in stone as a symbol of her permanence in his affections.” Ottavio produced this Herm in a Niche ten to twenty years after Diana and Matthew’s stay in Prague, perhaps inspired by his earlier encounter with Diana. It was later acquired by Philippe de Clermont and is now in the Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna.

Sèvres Vase, One of a Pair (Vase à Têtes de Lion) (1765–70)

Salon, Sept-Tours, France

Urn-shaped vase of soft-paste porcelain. Bleu nouveau ground color, lion heads in relief, and grisaille panels depicting putti and trophies. Measures 40.4 centimeters high.

Background: This item furnishes the grand salon at Sept-Tours. It was originally from a pair, but when Diana returned from sixteenth-century London with a firedrake familiar in tow, one of these prized vases of Ysabeau’s was a casualty. An exact replica can be seen in the collection of the Walters Art Museum in Baltimore, Maryland, which is one of only a few museums in the world that present a panorama of art from the third millennium B.C. to the early twentieth century.

Dried Brassica Root, with Figure (The Root of Eppendorf) (c. 1482)

Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna

A root of the common cabbage plant (Brassica oleracea) with a crucified male figure, its arms outstretched, incised into the root’s surface by person or persons unknown. The arms of the figure are broken off close to the shoulders, while the top of the root is crowned with a circlet of small seed pearls. This remarkable object, known as the Root of Eppendorf, is now in the Geistliche Schatzkammer, Kunsthistorisches Museum, in Vienna.

Background: Emperor Rudolf showed Diana this prized possession in sixteenth-century Prague, the so-called Root of Eppendorf, which he had recently procured from a nunnery in Hamburg. According to legend, this root was the miraculous result of an ordinary woman’s having buried in her garden a communion wafer that had been blessed by a Catholic priest. Such burials were frowned upon by the church, which regarded this as sacrilegious treatment of the consecrated host. But the woman was said to have done so in an effort to restore fertility to her failing soil. She appears to have succeeded, as her garden soon yielded an unusually huge cabbage. The cabbage itself was eaten, but the root, containing a remarkable figure of Christ, was preserved and widely admired, eventually ending up in the care of a nunnery. Many people of this period were already predisposed to associate plants like cabbages and broccoli with Christ: the original Latin name for brassica plants was Cruciferae precisely because many medieval Europeans believed that these plants’ four-petaled flowers mimicked the Holy Cross.

Baldwin de Clermont restored this item to the Hamburg nunnery c. 1650. How it came to be in the museum in Vienna is unknown.

Telescope (1591)

Private Collection

Earliest known refracting telescope, fashioned from a steel gun barrel and a convex and a concave lens. Engraved on a silver banner on the side: N. VALLIN ME FECIT, T. HARRIOT ME INVENIT, 1591. Not for sale (even to Ysabeau de Clermont). Currently in a private collection.

Background: By the late sixteenth and the early seventeenth century, there was sufficient knowledge about optics to make possible the invention of the telescope. The first refracting telescopes (that is, telescopes that relied on lenses to gather light and provide the image) were thought to have been made in the Netherlands in 1608.

It’s clear that many experts in lenses were arriving at the same idea around the same time. The scientist who stole the show, however, was Galileo. Galileo experimented with the inventions of the Dutch and improved on them, producing a version in 1609 that could magnify objects twenty times. Moreover, he applied his knowledge to the study of the heavens. His crowning achievement was to use his telescope to prove the Copernican theory that the earth and other planets revolve around the sun. Galileo is thus generally named as the inventor of the telescope.

Diana Bishop, however, knows that many a great idea has perished (or, worse, remained unattributed!) for lack of publication or proof. Thomas Harriot told Diana that his reading of Giambattista della Porta’s Magia naturalis, a work of popular science, had planted the idea that convex and concave lenses could be combined to enable men to see objects both far away and nearby. When he shared his plan to create such an instrument, Diana suggested that Harriot immediately take his idea to Nicholas Vallin (famous maker of mousetraps) to produce a prototype. Vallin modified a gun stock for the tube and inserted the lenses. Most important, Diana had Vallin engrave the instrument with the inventor’s name and the date, providing incontestable evidence that Thomas Harriot, not Galileo, invented the first refracting telescope.

Thomas Harriot’s role in history remained undiscovered until the telescope was found in a niche in the bell tower of St. Michael’s Church in Alnwick in June 2010. How many other ideas and inventions still lie hidden and unclaimed?

Silver Coin (date unknown, possibly classical period)

Philippe de Clermont’s Study, Sept-Tours, France

A small, ancient silver coin, in the de Clermont private collection, its edges worn and thin, with some red-and-black sealing wax still clinging to the back and edges. The coin is stamped with a cross and a crescent.

Background: When someone received this coin, pushed into a red-and-black wax seal, it was a signal from Philippe de Clermont: He expected the coin returned to him with his order obeyed. Matthew received such a coin in sixteenth-century London, summoning him home to Sept-Tours. Diana was the last to receive such a message from Philippe, the letter kept safe by Alain to deliver to her in present-day London. This time Philippe was no longer alive for Diana to return it, but as he explained in his note, “The coin is for the ferryman. Tell Matthew I will see you safe on the other side.” There is a family legend that Philippe buried a bag of ancient coins just before he left on his disastrous mission to Germany in World War II. They have never been found.

Fashion

Dress Fabric and Petticoat Panel, English (1550–1600)

Private Collection

Fragments of dress fabric from a formal gown of fine black velvet, with designs of silver fleurs-de-lis and roses elaborately embroidered throughout the material. The petticoat panel is white satin, designed to be visible at the front of a dress’s divided skirts. The panel is embroidered with flora and fauna, as well as depictions of classical architecture, scientific instruments, and female personifications of the arts and sciences. Fabric and petticoat alleged to be from a dress owned by Mary Sidney, Countess of Pembroke, known to have been a favorite of Queen Elizabeth I.

Background: These items are from the dress that Diana wore to meet Queen Elizabeth I at Richmond Palace in the winter of 1590. Mary Sidney selected the gown from her own wardrobe, promising Diana that it would appeal to the queen. Its colors, black and silver, were the queen’s colors also, and Mary explained that its slightly dated style (its skirts were not as full as the current style of 1590) would signal a degree of humility and frugality on Diana’s part. The bodice would have had laces in back, with bouffant sleeves tapering at the wrists and edged with fine white cuffs. The gown was styled with a deep V waistline over a full, split skirt, revealing the petticoat beneath. This strongly resembled a dress actually worn by Elizabeth Brydges, maid of honor to Elizabeth I, in a portrait painted by Hieronimo Custodis in 1589. A similar petticoat panel from the late sixteenth/early seventeenth century can be seen in the collections of the Victoria and Albert Museum: collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O85436/petticoat-panel-unknown/.

Embroidered Sleeve, French (c. 1590)

Les Revenants, France

An embroidered sleeve, threadbare with age. From a gown of heavy gray silk, possibly French, ornamented with cornucopias and floral images stitched in rose, black, and gold thread (also silk). The laces of the sleeve are extensively damaged. The fastenings appear to have been torn away entirely at some point. The superb tailoring and the fertility symbols of the embroidered cornucopia suggest it might have been designed as part of a wedding dress.

Embroidered Sleeve

Background: This sleeve is all that’s left of La Belle Robe, the dress Diana wore for her wedding to Matthew at the village church near Sept-Tours in 1590. The dress was French and a relatively simple style, with a high neckline, an A-line skirt, and a bodice that narrowed to a V at the waist. Like most European gowns in the sixteenth century, it was composed of entirely separate pieces—a skirt, a bodice, and sleeves—which were then fastened together with ties at the seams (rather than being sewn together at the seams like a modern garment). This dress had double sleeves—a fitted sleeve underneath with another wider, hanging sleeve on top—both of which were tied to the bodice; the ties were hidden by tabbed flaps called pickadils. Diana’s dress was made for her by Monsieur Beaufils and Marie, Saint-Lucien’s best seamstress; it closely resembled the dress worn by an anonymous Lady of the Court in a portrait painted by Lavinia Fontana (c. 1590). It took the concerted efforts of three women to get Diana into her smock, corset, bodice, sleeves, skirt, and ruff. Matthew managed to help her out of it all by himself.

Sixteenth-Century Female Fashion Accessories

Mixed Lot of Women’s Underclothing, Overshoes (c. 1600)

The Old Lodge, Woodstock, England

Various women’s undergarments from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, England, discovered in an attic trunk.

Bumroll

ROLL: A roll (sometimes called a bumroll), a crescent-shaped tube of buckram cloth stuffed with rags designed to be worn under a skirt, curving around the backside and hips, in order to give the appearance of a narrow waist and a full skirt. Such rolls were commonly worn by all women in Elizabethan England.

Farthingale

FARTHINGALE: This is a circular frame of concentric rings fashioned of whalebone with willow supports and covered with starched linen. Designed for formal occasions, the farthingale was worn over a roll and under the gown’s skirt and petticoats, in order to hold the fabric well away from the body in the manner of a large birdcage or smallish wagon wheel fitted under one’s skirts. Extremely rare item. Unworn and in very good condition.

Women’s Stomacher

STOMACHER: The trunk also contained an embroidered women’s stomacher (linen over a whalebone frame), which would have been pinned over a dress front to cover the exposed laces of a lady’s dress.

RUFFS: Several fine, lace ruffs of various sizes. These would have been folded, starched, then pinned around the neck, framing a lady’s face.

PATTENS: The final items are a pair of woman’s wooden pattens, cloglike wooden shoes that were donned to protect the thin leather of her shoes and elevate her—and her skirt hems—several inches above the mud and filth of city streets. Well worn.

Background: After Diana left London in the summer of 1591, Françoise packed up Diana’s belongings and sent them to Matthew’s attic in the Old Lodge. One trunk held various odds and ends of Diana’s wardrobe—the doughnut-shaped rolls she wore under her skirts, the unwieldy farthingale that supported the black-and-silver dress she wore to meet Queen Elizabeth, as well as Diana’s many ruffs, one of her stomachers, and her wooden pattens.

Pair of Women’s Shoes (c. 1600)

Private Collection

An exquisite pair of women’s slippers made in England in the late sixteenth century. Approximately 10 inches long, made of cream-colored leather decorated with realistic representations of flora and fauna embroidered directly on the leather uppers with black and silver thread. The shoes appear to be a matching pair. One shoe is slightly damaged, missing several embroidered figures entirely, but is otherwise intact.

Pair of Women’s Shoes

Background: These are the shoes that Mary Sidney, the Countess of Pembroke, wore when Henry Percy and Matthew brought Diana to meet her at Baynard’s Castle in London in 1590. This meeting was enlivened when Diana’s untrained magic accidentally induced one of the embroidered bees on Mary’s shoe to fly off the toe and a stitched snake to slither off as well. Diana, Matthew, and Henry departed Baynard’s Castle rather hastily, leaving Mary unsettled by the magic and the possessor of a pair of permanently mismatched shoes.

A similar pair of sixteenth-century shoes, featuring a spider design, can be seen in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. The embroidered detail of natural elements on a skirt worn by Elizabeth I, painted by Nicholas Hilliard around 1559, also echoed those on Mary’s shoes.

Embroidered Jacket (c. 1590)

Les Revenants, France

A fine example of a woman’s jacket, linen lined with linen. Extensively embroidered with repeating geometric and floral designs in the style of the Elizabethan period, which was captivated with contemporary mathematical and scientific discoveries. The embroidery is done in colored silk, silver, and silver-gilt threads. Tailored to be close-fitting with a narrow waist and sleeves, this jacket is designed to be worn as outerwear together with a skirt, as an alternative to a gown. Has two pockets at the waist to accommodate an English housewife’s everyday carry.

Background: Diana was wearing this jacket when she timewalked back to the present, and she wore it again when she attended her first meeting of the Congregation as Philippe’s blood-sworn daughter and the de Clermont family’s representative. Her young son, Philip, calls the jacket “Mommy’s Meeting,” as she routinely wears it to formal Congregation affairs and has linked her announcement “Mommy is going to a meeting” to this particular item of clothing. Matthew calls it her power suit.

Sixteenth-Century Male Fashion Accessories

Quilted Doublet and Hose (1550–1600)

The Old Lodge, Woodstock, England

Quilted Doublet

DOUBLET: A man’s doublet made of black leather, quilted, with brass buttons down the front. Cut to fit close to the body, this doublet is minimally padded and sewn to accommodate someone with particularly broad shoulders, which would have been further accentuated by the deep-V construction and detailing of the garment. Removable sleeves are also black leather and close-fitting, with decorative brass buttons down their length. This particular garment was tailored for an unusually tall man. The leather is worn and fragile in parts.

Men’s Woolen Hose

HOSE: A pair of men’s woolen hose, remarkable for both their color (red) and their size (tall). The color is faded from age. These two long, footed tubes are fashioned from loosely woven fabric, cut on the bias to ensure a snug fit and thereby show the wearer’s legs to best advantage. Hose were fastened to breeches, a kind of short pants, with laces drawn through eyelets in the hose and breeches. Garters at the knee also helped hold the hose in place.

Background: From the late fourteenth century until 1700, many European men wore doublets. These were vests made of doubled-over fabric (hence the name) to which even more padding could be added, depending upon the fashion of the day. Doublets provided protection from the elements and at least some warmth. They also gave men a useful and discreet place to tuck small weapons and other valuables inside their clothing. This doublet is one of Matthew’s, as he favored the close-fitting style rather than the exaggerated padded stomach of the peascod doublets worn by others, including George Chapman. And these are the pair of red hose that Diana persuaded Matthew not to wear for his first audience with Emperor Rudolf. Both items were packed away in an attic of the Old Lodge and forgotten about until centuries later.

Man’s Linen Shirt (c. 1590)

Bishop House, Madison, New York, USA

Fine example of a man’s sixteenth-century English linen shirt with blackwork embroidery on the collar and cuffs. The handworked design of intricately detailed acorns and oak leaves, done with curving lines and shaded figures, is stitched with a single color (black) silk thread using the Holbein stitch, so that the design appears identically on both sides of the fabric.

Man’s Linen Shirt

Background: This is one of Matthew’s everyday shirts from 1590, and it is the one he was wearing when he and Diana timewalked back to the present. Blackwork embroidery, made with iron-blackened silk thread stitched on white linen or cotton, was an especially popular decorative technique in Elizabeth’s England. It was apt to show up on everything from smocks to women’s coifs (caps) and even cushion covers. As a fashionably dressed Elizabethan, Matthew had several shirts trimmed with blackwork. The style suited him well. The shadowed black of the tiny silk stitches on a crisp white linen background played beautifully against his white skin and his customary black doublet.

Novelty T-Shirts

Twenty-first Century

Sept-Tours, France

Graphic T-shirts still in a shipping envelope from a company called Get Shirty. A packing label indicates that the garments are woven of 100-percent ring-spun cotton. The tees are both V-neck and crew styles, in navy blue and black, women’s size XSMALL.

Background: These are some of Dr. Miriam Shephard’s favorite graphic tees. As an intellectual badass herself, Miriam does not suffer fools lightly. And she’s happy to let everyone know in advance.

Jewelry

Pilgrim’s Badge, Ampulla (c. 1150)

Pilgrim’s Badge

Private Collection

This tiny coffin is a pilgrim’s badge made of lead alloy (43 millimeters tall by 21 millimeters wide by 17 millimeters deep). Likely a keepsake from the tomb of Lazarus in the town of Bethany in the Holy Land, where Christians believe that Jesus Christ raised a man named Lazarus from the dead.

Background: From the twelfth century through to the early sixteenth, thousands of Catholic pilgrims traveled to Christian sites throughout Europe and the Holy Land, where enterprising local craftsmen sold small commemorative pilgrim’s badges. They came in a variety of styles, including ampullas, figures of saints, and other site-specific motifs. These inexpensive badges proved to be tremendously popular among the pilgrims. In some senses they were a kind of early tourist souvenir.

This Lazarus coffin is much like Matthew’s silver pilgrim’s badge from Bethany. He wore his badge around his neck for centuries as a reminder of Eleanor St. Leger, a woman he had fallen in love with when he lived in Jerusalem (near Bethany) during the twelfth century. Matthew never forgave himself for her death. After he fell in love with Diana, he sealed a drop of her blood alongside a drop of his own into the ampulla, which he then left behind at the farmhouse in Madison. The house magically and alchemically transformed the blood and mercury from the ampulla into a new creation, the blasted tree, and left the molten remains of Matthew’s small lead coffin embedded in its trunk.

Signet Ring (twelfth century)

Jewel Cabinet, Sept-Tours, France

Signet Ring

A gold signet ring with an engraved, semiprecious red carnelian set into a broad bezel. The red stone is engraved with an image of a man climbing out of a coffin and the words SECRETUM LAZARI encircling the image. The ring is heavy, at 12.2 grams, and has a large hoop, approximately size 21, suggesting that it was worn on the thumb. It might have belonged to a member of a relatively obscure medieval chivalric order, the Order of St. Lazarus, which finally disappeared during the late sixteenth century.

Background: For centuries signets have been employed in lieu of a unique signature (hence “signet”), because they contain unique, personal images carved into them. When pressed into wax or a similarly soft material, they leave behind a raised impression that serves as the signature of an individual or a member of an organization. Diana noticed Gallowglass and Hancock wearing a version of this particular ring when she first met them in Shadow of Night. It belonged to one of the Knights of Lazarus, the military order founded during the twelfth century and created by Philippe de Clermont to protect creatures and humans who could not protect themselves.

Silver and Gold Salamander Necklace (sixteenth century)

Silver and Gold Salamander Necklace

Benvenuto Cellini

Les Revenants, France

An exquisite necklace, approximately 24 inches, fashioned of miniature salamanders made of silver and gold with diamonds set in their backs. The salamanders are linked head to tail, and a large ruby pendant is attached to the necklace. Francis I commissioned the work from the Italian artist Benvenuto Cellini (1500–71), who was a goldsmith at his court. It is now in the de Clermont private collection.

Background: Francis I was a great patron of the arts and also an admirer of salamanders, which he’d chosen for his royal emblem due to their reputed ability to withstand deadly flames. The length of this necklace allowed the man or woman who wore it to maneuver it over the high collars and large ruffs worn by many at the time. Substantial pendants, like this ruby, were increasingly popular, in part because they were well suited for display on a woman’s exposed décolletage during a time when European—and particularly French—necklines were beginning to dip lower.

According to de Clermont family history, this was a gift from King Francis I (1494–1547) to Matthew de Clermont in recognition of services to the Crown. Matthew gave it to Diana when they were in Prague; he had Philippe send it to him there, along with the Bosch altarpiece. Diana was delighted by the craftsmanship of the tiny salamanders, and she also appreciated their alchemical symbolism, as salamanders were believed to have an affinity for fire. Diana wore the necklace to a dinner with the jealous and acquisitive Emperor Rudolf, inspiring him to give her a much more ostentatious chain containing the insignia of the Order of the Defeated Dragon.

Decorative Chain with Dragon Pendant (1400–50)

Decorative Chain with Dragon Pendant

Jewel Cabinet, Sept-Tours, France

An elaborate collar-style necklace made of gold crosses linked together to form a chain, with a large circular pendant in the shape of a dragon with a flayed back and its tail wrapped around its neck. The dragon is green enameled glass over gold; the crosses are also gold, featuring red enamel and inlaid with emeralds, rubies, diamonds, and pearls. The jeweled crosses and dragon emblems are the insignia of the Order of the Defeated Dragon, a chivalric order founded by Sigismund, king of Hungary.

Background: Emperor Rudolf gave this garish necklace to Diana in a misguided attempt to win her affections, explaining that it was a beloved family heirloom that had belonged to his grandmother. Matthew and Gallowglass revealed privately to Diana that the flayed dragon and crosses represented the Order of the Defeated Dragon, or the Drăculeşti, and that the order was the enemy of the de Clermonts. On returning to England, Diana offered the necklace to Queen Elizabeth, who was irked with Matthew and Diana’s failure to bring Edward Kelley and his philosopher’s stone back from Prague. The queen readily accepted the collar from Diana under the guise that it was a gift from Emperor Rudolf to Elizabeth. Before her death in 1603, Elizabeth sent the collar back to Philippe de Clermont with a note reading, “Time catches us all.” The note is preserved in the de Clermont archives.

Pearl Earring (c. 1500)

Pearl Dangle Earrings

French

The Old Lodge, Woodstock, England

A dangle earring, made in an unusually simple setting of twisted and plaited fine gold wires. A lustrous baroque, or teardrop-shaped, natural pearl (approximately 29–30 millimeters) hangs from the gold filigree of the earring.

Background: This is from a pair of Ysabeau’s earrings. Matthew and Diana found one of them inside Bridget Bishop’s poppet in the farmhouse in Madison, and Diana used it, along with the silver chess piece and Matthew’s copy of Doctor Faustus, to guide them back to Elizabethan England. There Françoise located the earring’s mate in a wooden box at the Old Lodge.

Diana formed a strong attachment to these earrings, which served as a tangible link between the past and present, and she even wore them when she and Matthew met Queen Elizabeth at Richmond Palace. When Diana encountered the young witch Rebecca White in front of the Hart and Crown, Diana recognized her as one of her Bishop grandmothers. She gave her one of the earrings, asking her to guard it. Rebecca did as she was asked, keeping it safe and passing it down to her daughter, who passed it on to her daughter, until Bridget Bishop enclosed it in a poppet and put a strong spell on it for safekeeping. Eventually it was entrusted to the Bishop house in Madison until Diana, the timewalker, had need of it. Diana left the other earring at the sixteenth-century Old Lodge, where it has now been found at the bottom of a box of trinkets.

Gimmal Wedding Ring (sixteenth century)

Gimmal Wedding Ring

Private Collection

A gimmal, or twinned, ring from sixteenth-century France, this ring is made of three gold hoops that fit together to form a single ring. Each hoop of this traditional wedding ring is inscribed with a short love poem in Old French: A MA VIE DE COER ENTIER (my whole heart for my whole life), MON DEBUT ET MA FIN (my beginning and my end) with the symbols alpha and omega, and SE SOUVENIR DU PASSE, ET QU’IL YA AVENIR (remember the past, and that there is a future). Each of the two outside hoops bears a tiny, exquisitely detailed hand, complete with wrist and shirt cuff and with tiny diamonds decorating the cuffs, while the center hoop contains an enameled heart, inset with a polished octahedral, or pointed-cut, diamond. When the three hoops are fitted together, the two hands clasp the heart between them.

Background: Ysabeau called this her scribble ring because she used the sharp point of the octahedral diamond to write on glass. It had been a gift from Philippe to Ysabeau, and she sent it to the farmhouse in Madison for Matthew to give to Diana. Matthew gave it to her as a token of their marriage, and Diana wore it when they timewalked back to the sixteenth century. Philippe was shocked to see it on Diana’s hand, but it served its purpose of conveying Ysabeau’s trust in her. It also revealed to Philippe his death, because he knew that Ysabeau would not have given away his love token while he was alive.

The Victoria and Albert Museum in London has a similar marriage gimmal ring in its collection, perhaps made by the same unknown goldsmith but dated slightly later, c. 1600–1650.

Golden Arrowhead (date unknown)

Golden Arrowhead

Present Location Unknown

An arrowhead made of gold. Unknown artist. Unknown age; ancient. Shows considerable wearing on the barbs, though the tip is quite sharp. Perhaps intended to be worn, as it has an attachment for wearing as a pendant or brooch.

Background: Philippe gave Diana a gold arrowhead for a wedding gift in 1590, and she made a habit of wearing it on a chain around her neck. The arrowhead was slightly worn and quite old even then, but still lethal. At the Old Lodge, the goddess fired this arrowhead on a silver shaft into Diana’s body, and it came to rest painlessly along her spine. At Chelm, Diana drew the arrow from her back and killed Benjamin, saving Matthew. And after Benjamin’s death, the goddess directed Philippe to return the golden arrow with the silver shaft to Diana; there it remains, lodged in her back until the next time she has need of an arrow that no creature can outrun.

Rope of Pearls (date unknown)

Rope of Pearls

Les Revenants, France

Long rope necklace of matched, natural pearls on linen thread. No clasp. Rope length: 157 centimeters long, approximately .5 centimeter wide. Origins unknown.

Background: This rope of pearls was another gift from Philippe to Diana on her wedding at Sept-Tours, along with the broom necklace and the gold arrowhead. After she and Matthew timewalked home to the present, Alain gave the pearls back to her, having kept them safe through the centuries. Unlike some of the other jewelry she wore in Elizabethan England, these pearls were as fashionable in the present as they were in the sixteenth century.

Necklace with Emblems of the Order of the Broom/Angevins (c. 1400)

Les Revenants, France

Necklace with Emblems of the Order of the Broom

Heavy, wide chain of linked gold flowers inlaid with precious gems. This fine necklace was likely worn by a Plantagenet king or someone who enjoyed royal favor, as some of the flowers, inset with yellow diamonds, are modeled after the common broom plant, Planta genista, which was taken by the royal English family, the House of Plantagenet, as their emblem. The broom flowers alternate with fleurs-de-lis made of gold and outlined in sapphires. This necklace was probably designed to be worn in the manner of a mantle, resting upon the shoulders. There is a slim gold chain from which a pendant could be hung. Length: 83.6 centimeters. Width: 5.8 centimeters.

Background: This was Philippe’s chain, given to him by one of the Plantagenet kings, who ruled England from 1154 to 1485. Philippe then gave it to Diana as a wedding gift in 1590. Originally a cross hung from the chain, but Philippe replaced this with the gold arrowhead, thinking it more fitting for Diana. When Diana was dressing to meet Queen Elizabeth, Mary Sidney took the necklace apart and used one of the broom blossoms as a brooch, stringing Diana’s rope of pearls from it. On formal occasions it was usual for Englishwomen to wear several necklaces of varying lengths and types at the same time, and it was also common practice for ladies to dismember their jewelry and use it variously for brooches, pendants, and even as hair decorations.

Jeweled Hair Clips (c. 1590)

Jeweled Hair Clips

Les Revenants, France

A set of five matching silver hair decorations, each in the shape of a crescent moon and inlaid with milky white cabochon opals. They have small wire hooks on the reverse side that grasp the hair and hold the jewelry securely in place. French. Approximately 1.8 centimeters by .8 centimeters.

Background: These tiny jeweled moons were another wedding gift from Philippe to Diana. It was then the style for European women to wear jeweled finery in their hair, particularly on formal occasions, and the moon symbol and silver metal were perfect for Diana, as they held particular alchemical and magical significance for her.

Gold Crown (c. ninth century, with later additions)

Gallery, Sept-Tours, France

Gold Crown

Magnificent gold crown with later repairs and additions inset with precious and semiprecious gems. While we know nothing of the history of this crown, it has a sizable number of scratches, chips, and dents—evidence that it was worn frequently by the monarch(s) to whom it has belonged, and over many centuries. Its base is a simple circlet of four curved, rectangular, jeweled plates. Four large jeweled fleurs-de-lis were added to these four original plates. An uncut, roughly spherical “pigeon’s blood” red ruby, estimated to weigh in excess of 180 carats (36 grams), is mounted at the centerpiece of the circlet. In the ancient world, rubies were esteemed above all other precious gems for both their rarity and their color, which was associated with blood and power.

Background: This belonged to Philippe de Clermont, who treated it with alarming nonchalance. He stored it atop a statue of a Greek god in his hallway at Sept-Tours and lent it out for Thomas, the young servant, to wear when he was crowned the Lord of Misrule during Saturnalia. The design is strikingly similar to the Crown of Charlemagne, the name of the ancient coronation crown for kings of the Franks and later kings of France.

Lifestyles

All Souls Recipes

Diana’s Dinner for Matthew in New College

Nothing in my culinary experience had taught me what to feed a vampire when he came for dinner.

In my rooms I swept all the papers off a battered eighteenth-century table that served as both desk and dining room and moved it closer to the fireplace. I set the table carefully, using the old porcelain and silver that was in my cupboards, along with heavy crystal glasses that had to be the final remainders of an Edwardian set once used in the senior common room.

What do you make if a vampire is coming to dinner? While Matthew spent most of the day wondering what would happen later when he was alone with Diana (and if you are wondering what I thought might be going through his romantic brain during these long hours, listen to the Spill Canvas’s “The Night Will Go as Follows”—it will make you smile), Diana was shopping and worrying about what to feed this new friend of hers.

Dating a vampire would be a challenge. A huge challenge. Because food is a major way for warmbloods to share, get to know each other, and socialize. There had to be something for Diana and Matthew to share besides mutual passion, which is why there is such an emphasis on wine as something they can at least converse about over the dinner table.

But of course, as Matthew points out, he can and does eat. And bless Diana: She tried to come up with a vampire-appropriate meal—which meant I had to do so as well. All the recipes are on the web in one form or another, but this dish for rabbit and chestnut cakes struck me as a winner straightaway. It’s based on a traditional Tuscan dish. Olives and garlic are optional if you’re serving it to vampires. I imagine it would be quite good with little butterflied Cornish game hens if you don’t want to go the rabbit route, or even some chicken pieces—though of course if you’re cooking poultry, be careful to cook it properly.

Matthew and Diana have a wonderful Rhône Syrah with this dish.

Rabbit and Chestnut Cakes

Serves 2

INGREDIENTS

Chestnut Cakes

2 ounces chestnut flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

Pinch of salt

Water

2 tablespoons olive oil, plus ⅓ cup extra

2 ounces pine nuts

2 ounces currants or raisins (optional)

Fresh rosemary

Coarsely ground black pepper

Rabbit

1 farmed rabbit, jointed

Salt and white pepper

2 tablespoons olive oil or unsalted butter

4 cloves garlic, crushed but not peeled

¾ cup green olives

1 stalk celery, chopped

2 sprigs rosemary

TO MAKE THE CHESTNUT CAKE

1. Preheat the oven to 475 degrees F/240 degrees C/Gas Mark 9.

2. Mix the chestnut flour, baking powder, and salt in a bowl. Add water to this dry mixture, bit by bit, stirring to avoid lumps but using enough to form the same consistency as pancake batter. Finally, stir in the oil into the batter.

3. Pour the batter into a baking dish, approximately 12 by 8 inches, lined with parchment paper. Evenly scatter the pine nuts, currants, and rosemary over it. Drizzle extra olive oil across the top and finally the pepper.

4. Bake until the dish is crisp and brown on the top, about 20 minutes. Be careful not to overbake or it will become very dry. When it is ready, leave it in the dish on or next to the oven, to keep the dish warm.

TO MAKE THE RABBIT

1. Remove the fatty tissue/offal from inside the rabbit. Make sure all the silverskin and sinew have been removed from the outside. Clean the rabbit, cutting the saddle into evenly sized pieces. Season each of these with salt and pepper.

2. Heat the oil in a frying pan, and then add half the meat to the pan.

3. When the pieces are nearly browned on all sides, add 2 cloves of the garlic, half the olives and celery, and one of the sprigs of rosemary to the pan. Keep turning it all to spread the flavors, being careful not to burn it. Transfer the seared rabbit and seasonings to a warm baking dish and repeat the process with the remaining rabbit pieces and seasoning ingredients.

4. Place the baking dish with all the rabbit pieces in the preheated oven and roast at 475 degrees F/240 degrees C/Gas Mark 9, 10–12 minutes. When ready, serve with the chestnut cake.

(This recipe was adapted from www.sbs.com.au/food/recipes/rabbit-chestnut-cake.)

Wine

Matthew surprised Diana with a bottle of 1811 Château Yquem, the famous comet vintage (now known as Château d’Yquem, but that name was not used in 1811), at their dinner. A bottle of this wine was sold in the summer of 2011 for approximately $123,000. Not your usual first-date bottle!

Matthew’s Dinner for Diana in All Souls College

A vast refectory table stood at the far side of the main room, with newspapers, books, and the assorted detritus of academic life neatly arranged at one end. . . . At the other end of the table, a soft linen cloth had been thrown over the wood, held down by the most gorgeous Georgian silver candlesticks I’d ever seen outside a museum. A full array of different-shaped wineglasses stood guard over simple white plates and more Georgian silver.

Menu

Starter: Fresh Atlantic oysters and a champagne (from 1961)

Salad, with a glass of Diana’s birthday wine: Salad of mixed greens, nuts, berries, and small bites of partridge taken from the grounds of the Old Lodge. Dressed with a champagne vinaigrette. (To make the salad dressing, whisk together 1 part champagne vinegar to 2 parts olive oil.)

Main Course: Veal stew over rice, with 1900 Château Margaux, considered by many to be the finest wine ever made.

Veal Stew, Normandy Style

Serves: 6

INGREDIENTS

1 tablespoon unsalted butter

1 tablespoon olive oil

2½ pounds veal stew meat cut into 2-inch cubes

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 medium onion, finely chopped

4 cloves garlic, smashed and finely chopped

2 ribs celery, finely chopped

1 tablespoon dry-rubbed or ground sage

2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

1½ cups best-quality fresh apple cider

2 Granny Smith apples, cored, and sliced (leave skins on)

1½ cups beef or veal stock

⅓ cup whole cream or crème fraîche

1 tablespoon finely chopped fresh sage, for garnish

DIRECTIONS

1. In a 5-quart Dutch oven or similar-size pot, melt the butter and oil over medium-high heat.

2. Season the veal generously on all sides with the salt and pepper. Working in batches, add the veal cubes to the sizzling oil in the bottom of the pot. Cook each batch, turning the cubes, until they’re lightly browned all over, about 3 minutes.

3. Once the last batch is ready, remove from the pot and reserve together nearby.

4. Reduce the heat to medium low. Add the onion, garlic, celery, sage, and a light sprinkle of salt and pepper. Cook for 5 minutes, or until tender.

5. Return the reserved veal and any juices to the pot. Add the flour to the meat and vegetables, stirring everything, and cook for 1 minute. Pour the cider into the pot, stirring up any brown bits from the bottom of the pot. Bring to a boil over high heat and allow the cider to reduce for about 5 minutes. Reduce the heat to medium low and add the apples and stock.

6. Cook, uncovered, at a gentle simmer, for about 1½ hours, stirring from time to time until the veal is very tender. Add the cream (be aware that other substitutes will curdle) and fresh sage at the end. Once added, briefly heat through and serve.

(This recipe was adapted from Holly Herrick’s website, www.hollyherrick.com.)

After Dinner

Nutty biscuits and old, old malmsey (1785)

Em’s Famous Vanilla Vampire Walnuts

In A Discovery of Witches, when Marcus bemoans the fact that he can no longer enjoy the taste of cookies, Em has the perfect substitute:

Serves: 16 warmbloods or 1 vampire

INGREDIENTS

2½ tablespoons vegetable oil (not olive oil—something flavorless, like sunflower or safflower oil)

1 tablespoon vanilla extract

1 pound shelled nuts (walnuts are traditional, though southern vampires may like some pecans, Spanish vampires like almonds, and a mixture is fine! Em doesn’t recommend cashews for this recipe as they are quick to burn.)

½ cup granulated sugar

¼ teaspoon salt

¼ teaspoon ground coriander

¼ teaspoon cinnamon

¼ teaspoon nutmeg

SPELL/METHOD

1. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F/160 degrees C/Gas Mark 3.

2. Blend the oil with the vanilla extract.

3. Blanch the nuts for 1 minute in boiling water. Drain. While still hot, put them in a bowl with the oil/vanilla mixture and the sugar. Let stand for 10 minutes.

4. Arrange the nuts on a rimmed baking sheet. (Using one with a rim will keep your nuts from driving you nuts!) Bake for 30–35 minutes, turning and stirring them every 5–10 minutes until the nuts are brown and crispy. Watch for burning—they can go from brown to burned in 30 seconds. You may find you need to remove them at around the 20-minute mark if your oven runs hot. Be careful handling them as they will be very hot because of the sugar.

5. While the nuts are in the oven, combine the salt, coriander, cinnamon, and nutmeg in a large bowl. Tip the baked nuts into the bowl and toss with the spices. Spread in a single layer to cool (they will get crispier as they cool). Store in an airtight container.

These nuts are good for garnishing cakes and cupcakes, chopping up and putting on Sarah’s oatmeal, snacking, serving to vampires in lieu of cookies, and as a salad topping. Diana likes them in an arugula salad with goat cheese and some pomegranate seeds (seasonal colors!).

(This recipe was adapted for vampires from The Frog Commissary Cookbook by Steven Poses, Anne Clark, Becky Roller.)

All Souls Sixteenth-Century Dishes

Quince

Quinces, a knobbly, yellow pearlike fruit, were kept in bowls at the Old Lodge, where their pleasant scent perfumed the air. Diana used one of them to demonstrate her magic to Widow Beaton and the rest of the School of Night, holding the quince in the palm of her hand until the sunlight left the fruit, shriveling and softening it to pulp in moments.

Most sixteenth-century English gardens grew a quince tree, but because the fruit’s skin is tough and their flesh so astringent, very few quince varieties were eaten fresh. Their flesh is high in pectin, so they were most often peeled and added to cooked fruit to make jams, jellies, and puddings, to which they also lend their delicious scent. Quinces are an almost magical fruit—their flesh is sour and tough when raw but transforms into something absolutely exquisite when cooked.

Here is a modern recipe for quince:

Quince Jam

Makes enough to fill approximately 5 large jars.

INGREDIENTS

Approximately 2 pounds of quince (roughly 5 quince) to produce 6 cups (packed) of grated quince

4½ cups water

1 tablespoon lemon zest

¼ cup lemon juice

4 cups sugar

DIRECTIONS

1. Wash the fruit and grate the quince, along with the peel, leaving only the core remaining, until you have about 6 cups of grated quince.

2. Put the water in a large, heavy-bottomed pot (6- to 8-quart capacity) and bring to a boil. Add the grated quince, lemon zest, and lemon juice. Reduce the heat and simmer until the quince is tender, approximately 10 minutes.

3. Add the sugar and stir with a wooden spoon until dissolved. Bring it to a boil again, then reduce the heat to medium high. Cook uncovered for up to about 50 minutes, stirring intermittently, until the jam turns pink and thickens to the setting point. Keep checking as you stir to be sure that the jam does not burn on the bottom of the pan.

4. Once ready, ladle into sterilized canning jars and seal.

(This recipe was adapted from www.simplyrecipes.com/recipes/quince_jam.)

Comfits

When Henry Percy, Lord Northumberland, accompanied Matthew and Diana to Lady Mary Sidney’s house for Diana’s first visit, Mary served them comfits, to Henry’s great delight.

Comfits were delicious sweets intended to settle the stomach. In order to make comfits, a small seed or bit of peel was coated in a light sugar syrup. The candies were then swirled in a pan and rubbed by hand to separate them. They were coated repeatedly, perhaps a dozen times, then allowed to dry overnight, before undergoing the coating and drying processes a second time. Edible dyes such as mulberry juice, spinach, and saffron were often added to the final coat to produce colorful treats. Because the making of comfits was such a time-consuming and labor-intensive process, they were generally enjoyed only by wealthy families in Elizabethan England.

Goose

Geese were useful animals in sixteenth-century England. Henry Percy brought Matthew and Diana a plucked goose for their Christmas dinner at the Hart and Crown in London. Henry VIII had been the first to institute turkey at the Christmas feast in England, but roast goose would still have been the traditional festive dish for most people. Goose feathers were also used for feathering arrows and making quill pens, which Diana, Matthew, Philippe, and the entire School of Night used by the dozens.

“Chef’s Menu”: Banquet Dishes at Sept-Tours

Matthew and Diana were married for the third (and final) time outside the village church at Sept-Tours in December 1590. After a brief ceremony, the bride and groom and their guests repaired to the great hall to enjoy Chef’s wedding banquet, as well as music and dancing. During their wedding feast, Diana described the delicious hubbub thusly: “Matthew and I sat alone at the family table, while Philippe strolled about serving wine and making sure the children got their fair share of spit-roasted hare and cheese fritters.”

The word “fritter” comes from the French word friture, which means “frying” or “fried food.” A common comfort food, fritters were enjoyed by people of all classes across Europe on many occasions. Fritters are essentially a batter of flour and eggs, to which fruit, most commonly, apples, or root vegetables or cheese is added, as well as herbs and spices for seasoning. And if you were a person of means in Elizabeth’s England, you probably ate your fritters dusted or dipped in sugar, too.

Here’s a recipe for cheese fritters like those served at Matthew and Diana’s wedding. It is taken from Thomas Dawson’s manual for housewives, The Good Huswifes Jewell (published in 1585, 1596, and 1610), which contained medicines for ailments and recipes for the table.

To Make Curde Frittors

Take the yolks of ten Egs, and breake them in a pan, and put to them one handful Curdes and one handful of fine flower, and straine them all together, and make a batter, and if it be not thicke ynough, put more Curdes in it, and salt to it. Then set it on the fyre in a frying pan, with such stuffe as ye will frie them with, and when it is hot, with a ladle take part of your batter, and put of it into the panne, and let it run as smal as you can, and stir then with a sticke, and turne them with a scummer, and when they be fair and yellow fryed, take them out, and cast Sugar upon them, and serve them foorth.

Here’s a more modern version:

Curd Fritters

Serves: 1

INGREDIENTS

4 eggs

½ cup cheese curds (cottage or ricotta cheese, strained to remove the excess whey)

½–¼ cup flour

Salt

1 tablespoon cooking oil or butter

Sugar (optional)

Nutmeg (optional)

DIRECTIONS

1. Beat the eggs, then add the cheese curds and slowly add the flour to make a very thin batter, then season with salt. Heat the oil in a frying pan, then pour in the batter, making sure it’s spread thinly, like crepe batter.

2. Fry each side of the fritter until lightly browned. Serve with the sugar and nutmeg sprinkled on top if you wish.

3. You can experiment with this recipe in the style of a sixteenth-century housewife by adding small amounts of chopped apples, beef, pork, spinach, and thinly sliced or grated root vegetables such as potatoes or beets to your fritter batter.

(This recipe was adapted from Plimoth Plantation’s Recipes, www.plimoth.org/learn/just-kids/recipes#curd.)

Elizabeth I’s Candied Violets

Sugar from sugarcane had long been produced in Asia but was relatively rare in Europe until the sixteenth century. Before then most Europeans used honey for sweetening foods. With the establishment of slave colonies and sugarcane plantations in the Caribbean and Brazil, sugar became increasingly available in Europe. During the reign of Queen Elizabeth I, the English, especially the nobility, developed an insatiable taste for sweets. Chefs used sugar to concoct “subtleties”—gigantic sugar sculptures that were anything but subtle, and sugar began to be used as a preservative, especially for fruits and flowers.

Despite Matthew’s scolding, Queen Elizabeth did not give up her candied violets. Paul Hentzer, a German who traveled to London in 1598, described the ill effects of candy on Queen Elizabeth’s dental hygiene: “Her face oblong, fair but wrinkled, her eyes small, yet black and pleasant, her nose a little hooked, her lips narrow and her teeth black (a defect the English seem subject to, from their too great use of sugar).” Indeed, overindulgence in sugar became a mark of wealth, as did its consequent problems, including dental decay. It was the fashion for a time during Elizabeth’s rule for ladies to blacken their own teeth as a mark of their gentility and rank, as this gave them the appearance of having consumed a great deal of sugar themselves.

Here’s a modern recipe for candied violets (just don’t overindulge as Elizabeth I did):

Candied Violets

INGREDIENTS

2 egg whites

Superfine (caster) sugar

1 large bunch wild violets, including stems for ease of handling, washed gently in a colander or sieve and allowed to dry

DIRECTIONS

1. In a medium-size bowl, allow the egg whites to come to room temperature, then beat with a wire whisk just until frothy.

2. Place the sugar in another bowl. Taking one violet at a time, pick it up by the stem and dip into the egg whites, covering all surfaces of the flower. Gently dip into the sugar, again being sure that all the petals, both tops and bottoms, are covered.

3. Place on baking parchment or wax-paper-lined baking sheets; snip off the stems.

4. Using a toothpick, open the petals to their original shapes. Sprinkle sugar on any uncoated areas. Dry in an oven at 400 degrees F/200 degrees C/Gas Mark 6 for 30–40 minutes, or until sugar crystallizes. With a spatula or a two-tined fork, gently remove the violets to wire racks. Sprinkle them again with sugar if the violets appear wet or syrupy. Cool. Store in airtight containers with wax paper between the layers. Keep cool and out of direct sunlight.

Note: The recipe calls for using the common wild purple violet, not the African violet (often grown as a houseplant). And remember to brush your teeth and floss daily.

(This recipe was adapted from Taste of Home, February/March 1993.)

Wine

Matthew’s Wine Cellar

Vampires love wine. Given their bottomless bank accounts and the years they’ve devoted to collecting great bottles from the world’s best producers, it’s no surprise that they have terrific cellars. Sparkling, white, red, or fortified—all wine is fascinating to vampires thanks to their long memories and preternatural palates. Here are a few of the wines Matthew has stashed away:

SPARKLING WINE

1953 Diebolt-Vallois Champagne Brut Blanc de Blancs

1959 Billecart-Salmon Cuvée Nicholas-François

1961 Dom Pérignon

1979 Roederer Cristal

1982 Philipponnat Clos des Goisses

1989 Roederer Cristal

1990 Krug

1996 Krug Clos du Mesnil

WHITE WINE (DRY AND SWEET)

1811 Château Yquem

1847 Château Yquem

1862 Schloss Johannisberger Riesling Goldblaulack Auslese

1865 Hugel Tokay d’Alsace

1911 Erbacher Marcobrunn Riesling Trockenbeerenauslese

1921 Château Yquem

1944 M. Chapoutier Hermitage Blanc Chante-Alouette

1947 Le Haut Lieu Moelleux Vouvray, S.A. Huet

1949 Château Climens Sauternes-Barsac

1976 Bonneau du Martray Corton-Charlemagne

1976 Moulin Touchais

1978 Domaine de la Romanée-Conti Montrachet

1978 Domaine Jean-Louis Chave Hermitage Blanc

1991 Domaine de la Romanée-Conti Montrachet

1996 Château Haut-Brion Blanc

RED WINE

1825 Château La Nerthe

1865 Château Lafite Rothschild

1870 Château Lafite Rothschild

1899 Petrus

1900 Château Margaux

1921 Domaine de la Romanée-Conti, Romanée-Conti

1921 Château Cheval Blanc

1929 Clos Vougeout

1937 Château Ausone

1945 Château Mouton-Rothschild

1945 Domaine de la Romanée-Conti Romanée-Conti

1946 Beaulieu Vineyard Pinot Noir

1947 Château Cheval Blanc

1947 Beaulieu Vineyard Georges de Latour Cabernet Sauvignon

1949 Château Latour

1949 Paul Jaboulet Aîné Hermitage La Chapelle

1952 Château Ausone

1956 Charles Krug Vintage Selection Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon

1959 Domaine de la Romanée-Conti, Richebourg

1959 Château Lafite Rothschild

1959 Château Haut-Brion

1959 Domaine de la Romanée-Conti, Romanée Saint-Vivant

1961 Château Latour

1961 Château Lynch-Bages

1962 Penfolds Bin 60A

1964 Vega Sicilia Único

1966 Domaine de la Romanée-Conti, La Tâche

1968 Nathan Fay’s “Homemade” Cabernet Sauvignon

1973 Stag’s Leap Wine Cellars Cabernet Sauvignon SLV [Stag’s Leap Vineyards]

1976 Domaine de la Romanée-Conti Romanée Saint-Vivant

1976 Penfolds Grange

1978 Château de Beaucastel Châteauneuf-du-Pape

1978 Domaine de la Romanée-Conti, La Tâche

1978 Domaine de la Romanée-Conti Romanée-Conti

1978 Château Montelena Cabernet Sauvignon

1979 Ridge York Creek Zinfandel

1982 Château Pichon Longueville Comtesse de Lalande

1982 Petrus

1985 Domaine de la Romanée-Conti Romanée-Conti

1985 Tenuta San Guido Sassicaia Bolgheri

1989 Petrus

1989 Au Bon Climat Benedict Vineyard Pinot Noir

1990 Petrus

1990 E. Guigal La Turque Côte-Rôtie

1991 Château Cheval Blanc

1991 Qupé Syrah

1998 Château Petrus

OTHER FORTIFIED AND DESSERT WINES

1795 Henriques & Henriques Madeira Malmsey

1862 H.M. Borges Terrantez Madeira

1905 Pérez Barquero Solera

1905 Pedro Ximenez

1914 Cossart Gordon Bual Madeira

1927 Fonseca Vintage Port

1931 Quinta do Noval Nacional Vintage Port

1933 Justino Henriques Malmsey Madeira

1974 Heitz Cellar Angelica

Matthew’s favorite wines are Côte-Rôtie, including the 1990 E. Guigal La Turque Côte-Rôtie in his own wine cellar. It is a chewy, meaty wine that tastes of bacon and coffee, with lighter notes of raspberry and even floral accents—the perfect wine for a vampire’s palate!

Diana served Matthew a Côte-Rôtie at the first meal she made for him, to his immense delight. He could identify the wine by its scent because he recognized the aroma of the land—indeed, he knew the exact vineyard—where its grapes had grown. This wine comes from the South of France, near enough to Sept-Tours that both Matthew and Côte-Rôtie hail from the same region.

Côte-Rôtie is a red wine pressed from Syrah grapes grown on extremely steep, south-facing, rocky hillsides along the Rhône River. Many of these vineyards are planted in narrow terraces because the slopes are too steep to plant directly, making the vines particularly challenging and laborious to grow, tend, and harvest. These slopes give the wine its name: côte rôtie translates as “roasted coast” in English. The sun-warmed rocky hills allow the grapes to ripen despite the relative cold of the area, and the minerals from the stony soil give the wine its unique character.

Grapes have been grown on the slopes of the Rhône for thousands of years. During the sixth century, Romans and Greeks lauded the wines grown here, and between the thirteen and nineteenth centuries, Côte-Rôtie was immensely popular among the nobility of Europe and Russia. Unfortunately, many of these vineyards fell into disrepair after the world wars of the twentieth century. But they are slowly being revived, and it is again possible for Matthew to obtain a wine bottled from the grapes of a steeply pitched, rock-ribbed vineyard he has known for centuries.

All Souls Trilogy Wine Tasting

Casa Belfi NV Prosecco “ColFondo”

Where? Vento, northeast Italy (DOC Prosecco)

What? A sparkling wine produced using the grape variety Glera in the “col fondo” method—primary fermentation finishes in the bottle

Who? Casa Belfi is an organic estate that works very naturally in the cellar to produce a Prosecco with fantastic personality and thirst-quenching ability

Tasting notes Citrus, flowers, bakery—hunger inducing

Les Champs Libres 2013 Lard des Choix Blanc

Where? Ardéche, Rhône Valley, France

What? A vin de table, or good basic food wine, made by two natural wine legends using 100 percent Grenache Blanc

Who? René Jean Dard and Hervé Souhaut buy organic fruit and craft humble, natural wines using a very simple method.

Tasting notes Flora, soft melon fruit, well structured (good balance)

Domaine Bruno Lupin 2013 Fousette de Savoie Frangy

Where? Savoie, eastern France

What? Fresh, clean white wine made from Rousette (altesse) in the cru Frangy. Alpine wine

Who? Made by Bruno Lupin in the hills of the Savoie with a relatively natural approach

Tasting notes Clean lines, pear fruits and soft mouthfeel

Domaine Jean Maupertuis 2013 Les Pierres Noires

Where? Auvergne, central France

What? A no-sulfur Gamay D’Auvergne made from grapes grown on volcanic basalt—supernatural wine!

Who? Jean Maupertuis makes incredible natural wine from biodynamic fruit with no additives

Tasting notes Smells of the farm: wild herbs, organic soil; sour cherries and gravel texture

Domaine Jean-Baptiste Senat 2012 Minervois La Nine

Where? Minervois, Languedoc-Rousillon, southern France

What? A blend of sunshine grapes (Grenache, Carignan, Cinsault, Mouvedre, Syrah)

Who? Jean-Baptiste Sénat grows organic grapes in the Minervois on limestone and clay soils and practices minimal-intervention winemaking

Tasting notes Power and warmth (from ripe grapes!), berries gently stewed in spices

Tea

Diana’s Favorite Tea

Tea is a central part of Diana’s life. For her it is a breakfast necessity, a treat at the end of a long day, a calming agent, a cherished weekend ritual—and on one memorable occasion, a means to wash the taste of witchwater out of her mouth. She loves the traditional black English and Scottish breakfast teas that are high in caffeine and designed to accompany a hearty meal. Diana prepares such tea with “precisely half a teaspoon of sugar and half a cup of milk . . . black as tar, a hint of sugar to cut the edge off the bitterness, then enough milk to make it look less like stew.”

Diana’s favorite tea, however, is a green variety from Mariage Frères, the French gourmet-tea company founded by the brothers Henri and Edouard Mariage in 1854. Green tea comes from the same leaves as black tea but is not fermented, which preserves its antioxidant powers. After Diana fends Matthew off with witchwind for the first time, he brews a cup of her favorite, Thé des Impressionnistes. According to Mariage Frères, “In the wild, rocky, maritime region of Provence in southern France, nature’s shimmering colors create rare and intense harmonies that delighted Impressionist artists. This green tea, scented with mild spices and white flowers, is also dotted with mauve flowers as a visual echo of the dazzling and powerful fragrance that fills the mouth.” It has a lovely scent of vanilla and flowers. And for a tea that smells like Matthew, try Alexandra David-Néel Tea by Mariage Frères.

Matthew makes sure that wherever she is, Diana has the tea she needs. As we know, wine rather than tea is Matthew’s drink. His passion and Diana’s are related, however. Tea is like wine in that its taste is greatly affected by the climate, the altitude of the plants, and the soil, not to mention the practices of the tea maker, who decides when to harvest the crop and how to process and blend it. Both drinks carry within them a history, which is important to vampires and historians.

All Souls Herbal Teas

Strictly speaking, tea refers to a drink made from the Camellia sinensis plant, which thrives in the high mountain regions of central China and Japan. The English did not really begin drinking tea until the seventeenth century, so in the sixteenth century Diana had to make do with so-called herbal tea, also known as tisane. This is not made of tea leaves at all but of dried herbs, flowers, seeds, roots, and/or fruits steeped in boiling water.

The most notable tisane that Diana drank was a contraceptive brew introduced to her by Marthe on Diana’s first visit to Sept-Tours. Marthe instinctively felt that Diana and Matthew were capable of having children and was worried about possible repercussions from the Congregation. Marthe’s tea (not to be re-created at home!) contains parsley, ginger, feverfew, rosemary, sage, Queen Anne’s lace seeds, mugwort, pennyroyal, angelica, rue, tansy, and juniper root. Many of these plants have been used since ancient times to prevent pregnancy; Hippocrates described the use of Queen Anne’s lace seeds over two thousand years ago. Some of the ingredients are intended to stimulate menstrual flow; others are supposed to prevent implantation of the egg; while others are abortifacients. Diana had to learn to identify these substances by smell as well as by appearance, presumably because similar-looking plants can be toxic! Marthe instructed Diana to fill the tea bags one at a time with a pinch of each ingredient, to make sure each bag contained all twelve. “Normally I didn’t like herbal tea, but this one was fresh and slightly bitter.” As Sarah pointed out, this is not a contraceptive method you’d want to rely on.

Among the tisanes that Diana drank in the sixteenth century were a warm brew made from mint and lemon balm, as well as Susanna Norman’s tisane of mint, chamomile, angelica, and some stiff, glossy leaves that Diana can’t identify. Back in the present but avoiding caffeine because of her pregnancy, Diana drank peppermint tea at the New Haven Lawn Club.

If you want to try preparing your own herbal tea, WebMD offers some suggestions: www.webmd.com/food-recipes/homemade-herbal-tea.

Here is an unbelievably delicious tea that Diana does not drink but I do: Turkish apple tea. You can find it online or follow this easy recipe: www.food.com/recipe/turkish-apple-tea-382701.

Also, while on tour for The Book of Life, I developed a disastrous case of laryngitis. I saw a doctor and rested my voice as much as possible, but the most helpful recommendation was from a Moroccan friend who supplied me with pots and pots of this stuff in Philadelphia so that I could whisper my hellos to you. Thank you, Hachim!

Hachim’s Mother’s Sore-Throat Tea

Fill a muslin tea bag with equal parts of fresh lemon verbena leaves and chamomile flowers.

Slice or cube about an inch of peeled fresh ginger.

Add 8 green cardamom pods, 8 cloves, 2 black peppercorns, 1 star anise.

Steep in 12 ounces hot water for about 3 minutes.

Add honey to taste.

Herbs and Medicinals

Marthe’s and Sarah’s Herbs

Marthe and Sarah each has a stillroom—short for “distillery room”—filled with pots and jars of herbs. Though Marthe is not a witch, she has been a cook for centuries, and she performs the role of family healer just as any wife or cook in a large medieval household would. Both vampire and witch have a stillroom, which could be found in most castles and great houses in Europe beginning in medieval times. This is where herbs and flowers from the kitchen garden were dried and stored, where soap and other household cleaning products were made, and herbal medicines were concocted. In the sixteenth century, Marthe’s stillroom contained earthenware pots in neat rows on shelves, with drying herbs hanging from the rafters. Long before she met Diana, Marthe stored ingredients for contraceptive tea in a simple wooden box. The stillroom is women’s territory; men are strictly forbidden.

Marthe’s knowledge of herbs is surprisingly similar to Sarah’s. When Diana drank her “very own herbal tea” from Marthe, Sarah immediately recognized that it was actually a collection of contraceptive agents. Sarah’s own stillroom was once the farmhouse’s kitchen. Unlike Marthe, who as a vampire is slow to take up new ways, Sarah makes concessions to the twentieth century by using a seventies-era avocado-green slow cooker, a coffeemaker, an electric coffee grinder, and a blender to create her potions. As in Marthe’s stillroom, dried herbs and flowers hang between the exposed rafters: nigella pods, milk thistle, long-stemmed mullein, stalks of fennel, rue, feverfew. Though Sarah is untidy everywhere else, in the stillroom she keeps her Mason jars in neat rows on shelves and she labels wooden drawers with their contents. The herbs are not labeled alphabetically, but Diana feels sure that their placement is governed by some “witchy principle.”

Sarah also has a small teaching garden where she instructs the children of the Madison coven on the elemental associations of various flowers, plants, and herbs.

Elizabethan Herbal Medicines

In sixteenth-century England, a diverse group of people practiced the healing arts. Since the average person could not afford the services of a physician, wives tended to the medical needs of their families from their own personal recipes and stock of herbs and minerals. Some of these remedies required distillation, and a still was standard equipment in many kitchens (as we know, Marthe kept one in the Sept-Tours kitchen in France). If the household remedies didn’t provide relief, the family might ask help from a local healer, who was often also a midwife, or from the local apothecary. Only if the family was wealthy would they call on the services of a physician.

As a sixteenth-century housewife, Diana concocted the following headache remedy on instructions from the cook at the Old Lodge:

“A Caudle for pains in the head

Set your water to boil. Beat two egge yolkes. Add white wine and beat some more. When the water boils, set it to cool, then add the wine and egge. Stirre it as it boils again, adding saffron and honey.”

We doubt that this remedy was very effective, but others might have been more successful. Sir Hugh Plat, a wealthy lawyer in London who suffered from gout (a painful form of arthritis, especially affecting the feet), used a therapy recommended to him by his children’s wet nurse:

“A bath of red sage, pennyroyal, and as much salt as will make the water of the strength of brine is good after the pain of the gout is gone, to strengthen the foot it must be used in the morning and then the patient must walk upon it by little & little at once. This of Nurse Chetle.”*

Even today a soak in Epsom salts is recommended for gout pain and sage compresses for relief of discomfort from sprains and strains.

Unfortunately, in addition to herbs, Elizabethan healers sometimes incorporated metals such as gold, sulfur, mercury, tin, antimony, arsenic, and lead into their medicines. They also used bezoar stones—balls of inorganic material that form in the stomach of animals and do not pass into the intestine—which were believed to be an antidote to any poison. When Diana feigned illness in Prague, Rudolf II sent his royal physician with remedies: “terra sigillata, the clay with marvelous healing properties; bezoar stones harvested from the gallbladders of goats to ward off poison; a cup made of unicorn horn with one of the emperor’s family recipes for an electuary. The latter involved roasting an egg with saffron before beating it into a powder with mustard seed, angelica, juniper berries, camphor, and several other mysterious substances, then turning it into a paste with treacle and lemon syrup.” Given that a bezoar stone is basically a glorified hair ball, Diana’s reluctance is understandable—though one modern scientist has demonstrated that bezoars are capable of absorbing arsenic from solution.*

Needless to say, we do not recommend trying any of these remedies at home! It’s important to remember, though, that through their everyday experimentation the Elizabethan practitioners of medicine were laying the foundation for future scientific work.

See also: LIFESTYLES: All Souls Herbal Teas

Gonçalves Manuscript 4890

or English commonplace book (anonymous, late sixteenth century)

When Matthew gave Diana a blank, slim volume to practice her letters in in the sixteenth-century Old Lodge, she embraced the opportunity to create her own commonplace book. She was also wary about where the book would end up. Getting used to writing with a quill was another matter, and the entries appeared endearingly shaky. Commonplace books could be filled with all sorts of notes and everyday reminders, prayers, or quotes that were personal to the writer. These left intriguing trails for later historians to study about the daily life of a person in that period. Diana made notes on an array of subjects, from herbs and medicinals to sayings and star signs, just as other sixteenth-century contemporaries might have done.

All Souls Activities

Archery

Archery is a central thread in the All Souls trilogy. Diana Bishop is spiritually linked to her namesake, the goddess of the hunt, who is often depicted carrying bow and arrows. This is the weapon with which Diana dispenses justice. When the vampire Juliette attacked Matthew in the woods near the Bishop house, Diana instinctively equipped herself with her native weapon. “My hands felt heavy, and I knew without looking that they held a bow and arrow.” After a second of hesitation, Diana shot a ball of witchfire into Juliette, continuing until Juliette was reduced to a heap of coal. Later she confessed to Emily, “The maiden’s been in my dreams. Sometimes it’s as though I’m inside her, looking out as she rides or hunts.”

Diana’s use of the bow and arrow was instinctive, but she had little understanding of her powers, which is one of the reasons she and Matthew journeyed back in time. While they were at Sept-Tours in 1590, Matthew outfitted her with a state-of-the-art bow made of horn, wood, and leather bowstring. When Diana protested at Matthew’s seriousness about the lesson, he said, “There’s nothing lighthearted about survival.” Diana knows about magic, but centuries as a soldier have made Matthew an expert in the use of a longbow. He fought at the Battle of Crécy in 1346, in which an army of English and allied soldiers armed with longbows famously devastated the French despite having far fewer men.

The harder she tried, however, the worse Diana shot. Matthew sensed that she needed to rely on her instinct instead, and he instructed her to close her eyes before shooting. When she relaxed, she could see the fire that beat the arrowhead into shape at the forge and feel the air that must carry it. This time she hit her target.

On Diana’s wedding day, Philippe gave her an unusually shaped golden arrowhead, its edges softened with age. She had to leave it behind when she and Matthew departed the sixteenth century, but Alain returned it to her when she arrived back in the present. She took to wearing the arrowhead around her neck on a chain. At the Old Lodge, the goddess offered her a silver arrow. When Diana refused to accept it, the goddess shot it into her, burying Philippe’s golden arrowhead deep into her breast. Now the goddess’s justice was part of her. When it came time to kill Benjamin, she did not hesitate as she had with Juliette. Without a bow, Diana shot the arrow into Benjamin’s chest, cleaving him open and bursting his heart.

In the world of All Souls, the bow and arrow are the means of the goddess’s justice, and Diana is her agent.

Dancing

For the nobility of the sixteenth century, dancing was not just recreation but a necessary social art. Dancing displayed a person’s social skills, refinement, and suitability for marriage. Since the dances could be quite intricate, lessons were a necessity, and children often began their training by the age of six. The most favored dancing masters at this time were Italian, like Alfonso Pasetti in Rudolf II’s court. Dance manuals were also available. The French cleric Thoinot Arbeau (an anagram for “Jehan Tabourot”—at that time “i” and “j” were different shapes for the same letter) wrote Orchésographie, which covered not only dance steps but also the social reasons for dancing. “And there is more to it than this, for dancing is practiced to reveal whether lovers are in good health and sound of limb, after which they are permitted to kiss their mistresses in order that they may touch and savor one another, thus to ascertain if they are shapely or emit an unpleasant odor as of bad meat.”*

In this period there were two broad styles of dance: simple dances that usually included many participants dancing in circles or columns—such as the pavane, the bassa dance, or the almain—and complex dances that required instruction and much practice—such as the galliard, the coranto, or the canario. Diana and Matthew’s wedding dance was probably one of the simpler ones, because Diana had had only one dance lesson from a member of the orchestra. It might have been a bassa dance, or it could have been a pavane, a plain and solemn processional dance performed in long, gliding steps. The pavane still survives in the hesitation step used in the wedding procession. It is unlikely to have been a galliard, which requires complicated footwork as well as leaps and jumps. This was Elizabeth I’s favorite, and she was known to perform it half a dozen times per day for exercise well into her fifties. Sometimes the male dancer would perform a special step called the tassel kick (salti del fiocco), in which he spins and kicks out to touch a tassel between his knee and waist.

Elizabeth I is said to have danced a rather risqué version of the galliard, called a volta, with the Earl of Leicester. This woodcut taken from an oil painting (hanging in Penshurst Place, England) was thought to depict them dancing it together.

At Rudolf’s court Diana participated in a different sort of dance. When Rudolf insisted that she be involved in the spring’s entertainment, Diana agreed to play the goddess of the moon while Matthew played Endymion, the young man she loves. In this story the moon goddess asks Zeus to preserve Endymion in sleep so that he can remain with her forever. The performance was more successful than either Diana or Matthew bargained for, because when she made her entrance as the moon goddess, Diana began to float above the floor. Luckily, Rudolf believed it to be simply a “wonderful effect.”

Falconry

Falconry refers to the hunting of game (especially wild birds) using a trained bird of prey. During the early Middle Ages in Europe, falconry was both a way of obtaining meat and a sport. As the practical consideration became less important, falconry evolved more into a pastime and a status symbol of the aristocracy. Like dancing, it was a means of social climbing; where you hunted (for example, on a royal preserve), your knowledge of proper terminology, and the type of bird you flew all helped indicate your status in society. Even though the Stag Moat was too small a hunting area for his eagle Augusta, Rudolf II insisted on introducing her to Diana, presumably because she symbolized his status as emperor. (Interestingly, in the 1200s the Holy Roman emperor and falconry expert Frederick II had scoffed at the idea that eagles were the best choice for hunting. He implied that such a choice suggested amateurishness.) Falconry could be considered the sixteenth-century equivalent of iPhones and fast cars.

During their stay in Prague, both Matthew and Diana participated in a hunt in Rudolf’s Stag Moat using falcons. In place of his eagle, the emperor flew a gyrfalcon—the largest falcon of all, used almost exclusively by kings and nobles. After the nobles squabbled over the remaining birds, Matthew took the only one left, a merlin. The Book of Saint Albans, a gentleman’s hunting manual published in 1486, had declared the merlin more suitable for use by a lady. It is physically far smaller than a gyrfalcon, and Rudolf sneered at Matthew for his choice. But the merlin, Šárka, was a worthy representative of her species and outmaneuvered the emperor’s gyrfalcon to bring down her prey.

Swordplay

Muskets were used in military combat in the late sixteenth century, but they were ponderous to reload, not terribly accurate, and, because of their nasty recoil, as likely to injure the shooter as their intended target. Few ordinary people, then, had any practical experience with guns. They were more likely to use daggers, swords, and rapiers. Huge quantities of such arms were produced and used in sixteenth-century Europe, and most men had at least one or two. Within hours of arriving in sixteenth-century England, Matthew buckled a dagger at his waist, after the custom of the era. Most of the School of Night carried blades, as did Gallowglass and Davy, Pierre, and Philippe. Even Stephen Proctor carried a short knife when he timewalked to the past. Like the rest of the men in Elizabeth’s England, they carried these weapons in order to defend themselves and, if so inclined, to attack others. This was true for urban as well as rural communities, in times of peace as well as war. Men would have removed their personal arms only when they were sleeping or in church, or perhaps in someone’s home. But even then most men kept their weapons close at hand. This meant that disagreements could readily escalate from insults and fisticuffs to bloody attacks and death. This could be what happened to Kit Marlowe—that he got between two combatants and was stabbed in the head and died. However, it’s unlikely we will ever know what really occurred.

In addition to daggers, many also owned swords. Poor farmers or laborers could have had a sword handed down in their family, while men of means might have had an arsenal of newer weapons. There were two kinds of swords in use in England in 1590. One was the older, traditional, double-bladed longsword, often with a blunted end. It was so long and heavy that it required two hands to swing it (though a slightly smaller version called the bastard, or one-handed sword, was also available for the very strongest men, like Matthew). These swords were of such length and heft that they were entirely impractical to carry around in ordinary life and so were intended for use in open combat. They worked by smashing opponents, knocking them down, and were capable of slicing off an arm or a leg (or a head). The second type of sword, which was becoming increasingly common in sixteenth-century Europe, was a rapier, or walking sword. As their name implies, walking swords were designed to be more portable than older swords and so were lighter and shorter. They had a narrow blade and a pointed tip, designed for thrusting and stabbing. Because they could easily be wielded with one hand, this left the other hand free to use a dagger to block an opponent’s sword.

For the fight in the hayloft at Sept-Tours, Matthew used both a one-handed sword and his dagger, in the European style of the time. His father, by contrast, used a shorter, wider blade in the style of a Greek xiphos “leaf sword,” or similar one-handed broadsword, in conjunction with a shield—again, in the Greek fighting manner. Philippe also demonstrated his skill in the use of his dagger, even against the de Clermont family’s assassin, Matthew.

The key to swordfighting in the sixteenth century was to knock your opponent off balance. This was mostly a test of endurance, some skill, and brute force. Young men would have sparred with older ones, and wealthy men might even have studied with fencing masters from the Continent or practiced their skills in tiltyards like the one at Greenwich Palace. Wherever the fighting occurred, sparring with swords was violent and bloody. It left many with broken bones and lethal wounds. It was rare for anyone, even a vampire, to emerge from one of these fights unscathed.

Chess

The ancient game of chess is another form of combat that most vampires enjoy. The de Clermonts have been inspired by the intricate, complex tactics of the game as they have negotiated their positions of power through the centuries. Its symbolism is woven throughout the All Souls trilogy.

Chess originated in India as a game of military strategy that pitted mock troops against each other. With its challenging mix of short-term maneuvering and long-term strategic planning, the mental sport of chess gained broad appeal and spread throughout much of the Eastern and Western worlds. It was well established in Western Europe by the medieval period and was played frequently by the nobility in Tudor England, including Queen Elizabeth I. There are many allusions to chess in the theater of the time, from Shakespeare’s plays to A Game at Chess by Thomas Middleton, which was staged in 1624 by the King’s Men at the Globe Theatre. It was a political satire of the tension between Spain and England.

The rules of chess have evolved from the Middle Ages and its Eastern origins. Historians believe that it was around the fifteenth century in southern Europe that the outline of chess as we know it today emerged. Most notably, new rules at the time changed the role of the queen; from being one of the weakest pieces, she turned into the strongest and could now move the most freely, becoming the greatest threat to her opponent. Over many hours of play and study, the world’s best chess players memorize thousands and even tens of thousands of combinations of moves, as well as the opportunities and pitfalls of every possible combination. This is why daemons, with their canny intelligence and seemingly limitless energy, and vampires, with their long lives, make particularly excellent chess players.

Each square on the gameboard is identified by its unique coordinates, which are a combination of the letters A to H running along one edge of the gameboard, and the numbers 1 to 8 running along the perpendicular edge. Modern chess has developed a shorthand algebraic notation to describe the positions of game pieces on the board, which is the abbreviation for the game piece (unless it’s a pawn, which has no abbreviation) plus the particular square on the chessboard. So the notation “Qg5” means the queen has moved to the G5 square, and “D4” means a pawn is located at the square D4. If a piece is captured, the letter x is inserted before the captured square, so RxC2 means the rook has captured a game piece at the square C2.

The Queen’s Gambit is one of the many classic opening moves in chess. In this tactic white, which always moves first, opens the game by placing a white pawn at C4, which is a vulnerable position within easy capture by black at the center of the board. This compels black to make a choice: either move to capture white’s pawn (DxC4), which will leave the black queen more exposed, or decline the gambit and spare the pawn at C4, instead playing a piece farther away from the center. By declining the gambit, black keeps its center pawns in place, guarding the black queen and preventing her from fighting alongside the other black pieces.

Like most vampires, Matthew enjoys playing chess. He has spent many contented evenings locked in mental battle over a chessboard with his old friend Hamish Osborne. Matthew also has a reputation among family and friends as a conservative player. Before he met Diana, he never opened his games with the Queen’s Gambit and would decline it when his opponent played it, preferring always to protect his powerful queen. But when Benjamin broadcast a live video feed of a bound and tortured Matthew to taunt the de Clermonts and the Knights of Lazarus, the captive Matthew used his finger to tap out a hidden message in Morse code: “D-x-C-4.” Hamish recognized this chess notation and knew what it meant: Matthew had accepted the Queen’s Gambit. He signaled that his queen, Diana, must no longer remain out of the fray, protected by him and others. At long last it was time for Diana to use her vast powers and move onto the battlefield.

Traveling in the All Souls World

By Horse

From the point of view of most vampires, including the de Clermont family, the internal-combustion engine is a relatively recent invention; for most of their lives, they have relied upon horses to travel distances, hunt, and go to war. And although Matthew, Marcus, and Baldwin are extremely fond of their helicopters, private airplanes, and luxury automobiles, they also keep a stable of magnificent horses at Sept-Tours. There are seven animals in residence at the moment, including Matthew’s jet-black draft-horse stallion, Balthasar. He is very like the huge, sturdy warhorses that Matthew and the other vampires rode into battle in full armor in the past. There are also two smaller, Andalusian mares for the women of the household. Ysabeau prefers Fiddat (Arabic for “silver”) as she is the more obedient of the two, and Diana rides Nar Rakasa (Arabic for “fire dancer”), the more willful mare, with whom Diana has formed a bond sealed with kind words and apples. As Andalusians these mares are descendants of Iberian horses. Renowned in Spain and throughout Europe for centuries, they are famed for their speed and athleticism, as well as their strength and endurance. They exhibit many of the most notable qualities of their vampire owners.

The de Clermonts are excellent riders, having spent centuries in the saddle. Fortunately, Diana Bishop is also a fine equestrienne, having grown up in the country and ridden horses since she was a child. Those years of experience, coupled with her almost unconscious (and certainly magical) ability to ride with her eyes closed, speaking silently to Rakasa with her mind, means that she can hold her own with the de Clermonts. Matthew is unsettled by Diana’s style, as it runs counter to his instinct to protect her, but Ysabeau takes Diana’s horsemanship in stride. The first time Ysabeau went riding with Diana, Ysabeau instructed the groom to use sidesaddles for both horses, though Diana had always ridden astride.

For Ysabeau the invention of the modern sidesaddle was a marvelous step forward. Prior to its introduction, genteel women could not ride out by themselves. They either rode on a pillion behind a man or sat sidewise in an armchair saddle while their horses were led by men, because a woman could not control her horse while seated this way. Fortunately for Ysabeau and many other women, Catherine de Medici invented the sidesaddle in the mid-1500s so that she could ride out with her husband, France’s King Henry II. He had been accustomed to riding with his mistress, Diane de Poitiers, who rode astride. Catherine’s style of sidesaddle, which Ysabeau and Diana also used, allowed women to control their own horse by facing forward and sliding their right leg over the front pommel of the saddle, with a horn to support the right knee. The left leg rested in a “slipper stirrup,” and the rider’s skirted legs stayed modestly together on the same side of the horse. This allowed women to ride securely at moderate speeds. But Matthew was right to forbid Ysabeau from taking Diana jumping in the sixteenth-century sidesaddle. It wasn’t until the 1830s that Jules Pellier invented the modern sidesaddle, with the addition of a second pommel called a running or leaping horn that finally allowed horses and their sidesaddle riders to run and jump securely. Even today some women ride and compete sidesaddle, though more because of the challenge and style of it rather than out of any concerns for modesty or gentility.

Like King Henry II and his mistress, Diane de Poitiers, Matthew and Diana rode astride on their days-long journey to Sept-Tours in the sixteenth century, and even then the trip was physically exhausting. Diana’s many years of experience had still not prepared her for the physical toll of spending day after day in the saddle.

By Car

Over their long lives, vampires have developed an appreciation for items of lasting quality. Likewise, most have sizable bank accounts. This means that today many vampires—and the de Clermonts in particular—drive extraordinarily fine automobiles.

Matthew is partial to Jaguars and Land Rovers. The first time he drove Diana, it was in an impeccably kept older-model Jaguar. When traveling in more rural locales, including around Sept-Tours or the Bishop house in upstate New York, Matthew prefers his Range Rovers, which are less refined than his Jags but much sturdier. Diana compared his Land Rover to an armored personnel carrier.

On the other hand, Marcus Whitmore, Matthew’s son, enjoys flashier wheels. He finds sports cars irresistible. This includes his hand-built Spyker Spyder, with doors that open by scissoring upward and an aviation-style chrome dashboard. Marcus has other soft-top two-seaters, including an Alfa Romeo Spider, as well as any number of spider cars produced by European and American carmakers, like the Porsche 550 Spyder and the Lamborghini Gallardo Spyder. As Matthew noted, Marcus collects cars named after arachnids.

The “spider” in question refers not to a car’s fondness for stalking its victims, though that does seem awfully appropriate for vampires. Instead these spider cars are modern versions of a nineteenth-century horse-drawn carriage known as the spider phaeton. These were lightweight, very fast, four-wheeled carriages, designed to carry a gentleman driver and perhaps one other passenger, possibly with a footman clinging to the back. The spider phaeton was elegant and stylish, and above all it was designed for speed. One assumes that Marcus was an early adopter of the spider phaeton when it was introduced in nineteenth-century America; certainly he appreciates the mechanical, gas-powered versions of the modern era.

The Bishop women, by contrast, drive more sensible vehicles. For years Sarah drove a beat-up Honda Civic with faded purple paint and plastered with bumper stickers.

Exercise in the All Souls World

Rowing

Rowing was a vital part of Diana’s regime at Oxford for calming the surges of anxiety that have plagued her since childhood. The ritual of getting the boat ready, the meditative quality of rowing’s repetitive movements, and the serenity of being on the river early in the morning, at dusk, or on a foggy day, all made it one of the perfect ways for Diana to get the exercise she needed and to clear her mind. Diana rowed in a single scull, which gave her the freedom to train when it suited her and to avoid the many Oxford college crews crowding the Isis.

It’s not surprising Diana was drawn into this sport at Oxford, a university famous for its culture of rowing. On top of the famous Oxford and Cambridge Boat Race, the tradition of intercollege rivalry within Oxford is fierce. While Diana was on the river, she overheard other rowers discussing their tactics for the “bumps.” These are two series of races officially called Torpids (in early March) and Eights Week or Summer Eights (in May), involving all the Oxford colleges, including Diana’s New College. Taking place on the Isis, a narrow stretch of the river Thames through Oxford, the competition entails crews lined up in their divisions, one after the other (with around a boat and half’s width between them). Racing is started by the firing of a gun. The aim is for each crew to catch up and bump the boat in front, as well as avoid being caught by those chasing them. Once a bump has occurred, the crews involved must stop and let the other racers pass. Their positions are then swapped for the next competition (be that the next day or the following year’s regatta). The ultimate aim is for a crew to bump its way up to become Head of the River. The triumphant crew is awarded blades, trophy oars painted in its college colors. The roots of this idiosyncratic regatta can be traced back to the first formally recorded race in 1815. Brasenose and Jesus College crews came head to head in eights, racing from Iffley Lock to Mr. King’s Barge, which was moored near where the finishing line is today, the Head of the River pub. Brasenose was the winner.

See also: LOCATIONS: Oxford

For those of you wondering: Yes, I did row. At Oxford, as a matter of fact, where I was for a few brief, wonderful terms a member of the Keble College Women’s First Eight. (I was a member of the Second Eight for a full year, too.) Rowing was, for me, exactly as described here: part meditation, part discipline, partly a reminder that I was not just mind but body, too. That may sound obvious, but for a Ph.D. candidate working on her dissertation in the Bodleian, it was all too easy to forget that I needed to eat and sleep occasionally.

As someone who was always terrible at sports that demanded hand-eye coordination (I have virtually none), discovering horseback riding, rowing, and yoga saved me from a totally sedentary life. I still ride and row (on a rowing machine in the backyard, not a river) and do yoga, and they save my life each and every day by instilling a quiet place in my mind where stories (like A Discovery of Witches) are born.

Yoga

Diana Bishop practices yoga, along with running and rowing, to help manage her anxiety (which arose from being spellbound, but for many years Diana had no idea of this). Yoga is an ancient spiritual, mental, and physical practice that originated in northern India more than five thousand years ago. There is a wide variety of yoga schools and practices. Most teach students to use breath control along with simple meditation and a series of physical poses called asanas, such as the standing pose known as tree or the inverted V of downward dog pose. The breathing, meditation, and physical poses all work together to induce tranquillity and inner peace, which is particularly useful to creatures compelled to exist uncomfortably alongside humans.

When Diana met Matthew Clairmont in Oxford, she learned that he’d been practicing yoga for centuries. He introduced her to his favorite yoga class, led by the insightful witch and yogini Amira Chavan. Held in the great hall of the Old Lodge in Woodstock, this class contained an extraordinary mix of witches, vampires, and daemons who gathered harmoniously, with none of the usual discomfort and uneasiness that can arise among creatures mingling together.

In this class, creatures learn to manage their energy and, for a short time at least, be wholly themselves. Amira acknowledges that they all live in a world where humans ignore or fear them, so “we spend our time striving and straining to be something that we’re not. Let those desires go. Honor who you are.” Despite the distractions of vampires who scarcely seemed to draw breath and witches who floated above the ground, Diana found immense comfort and relief from her own roiling thoughts and worries through yoga’s movement and concentration.

Amira’s admonition to “honor who you are” served as an important reminder to Diana as she began her journey to embrace her identity and powers as a witch. Even her Aunt Em believes that magic and yoga share common ground, because both require stillness and a present mind, emptied of whirling, distracting thoughts.

I have practiced Iyengar, Anusara, and Vinyasa Flow yoga. My inspiration for a creatures class at the Old Lodge came from a time when I was in a yoga class trying to do downward dog, and while upside down I spotted someone who seemed to be balancing on a bit of her forearm and her ear. Obviously that person was not human.

Literature

The Literature of All Souls

Books lie at the center of All Souls, beginning with the mysterious Ashmole 782. They are what drive the story and are woven into every aspect of Diana and Matthew’s life. Collected here are some of the alchemical works, mythology, history, stories, and poetry that have shaped their experiences and the way in which they see the world.

Alchemy

“Who will carry the blood of the lion and the wolf? See the bearer of the tenth knot, for the last shall once more be the first.”*

Title: Anthropologia, or a treatise containing a short Description of Man, in two parts: the first Anatomical, the second Psychological (aka Ashmole 782)

Author: Unknown

Background: One of the Bodleian Library’s early donors was Elias Ashmole (1617–92), a great bibliophile and collector and a serious student of alchemy, astrology, and other scientific pursuits. When he died, he left funds to the university to set up a museum and library, open today as the Ashmolean Museum. Into this museum went his collections of natural objects, ancient coins, and pottery, as well as hundreds of books and manuscripts. In 1858 the contents of Ashmole’s library were offered to the Bodleian. The books were cataloged, and the manuscripts were numbered and given the designation “Ashmole manuscripts.”

A manuscript with the description “Anthropologia, or a treatise containing a short Description of Man in two parts: the first Anatomical, the second Psychological” was tagged as Ashmole manuscript 782. Its contents, and its current whereabouts, are unknown. Perhaps it was entered into the catalog by mistake. Perhaps a librarian’s closer inspection revealed that it was a printed book, and it was sent on to another part of the library for cataloging. It might simply be misshelved. Or it might have been absorbed into the body of a certain weaver from Madison, New York.

Ashmole 782, known also as the Book of Life, is the mystery at the heart of the All Souls trilogy. Depending on whom you ask, it is a precious book containing the secret of immortality that the witches stole from the vampires, an ancient spell book stolen by vampires from witches, or the solution to the daemons’ question as to why they exist. For every creature—daemon, human, vampire, or witch—it provides answers to the question of who we are and what makes us human. Or not.

As a scholar I’ve done a lot of research among the Ashmole alchemical manuscripts and always wondered what Ashmole 782 might contain. Incidentally, I did once “find” a lost book at the Bodleian. The Book of Soyga, or Aldaraia, a copy of which was owned by John Dee, is a sixteenth-century treatise on magic. It was thought to be lost until I helped to uncover two copies, in the British Library and the Bodleian (see also: IN CONVERSATION WITH DEBORAH HARKNESS).

“As I am the end, so my lover is the beginning. I encompass the whole work of creation, and all knowledge is hidden in me. Who will dare to separate me from my love? No one, for our love is as strong as death.”

Title: Aurora Consurgens (Rising Dawn)

Author: Attributed to Thomas Aquinas (1225–74)

Background: Aurora Consurgens is a fifteenth-century manuscript about the opposing forces of alchemical transformation: silver and gold, female and male, dark and light. It is a commentary on a manuscript called Al-mâ’ al-waraqî (Silvery Waters) written by the alchemist Muhammad ibn Umail at-Tamîmî (also known as Ibn Umayl) in the tenth century. Seven copies are known to exist (not counting Matthew de Clermont’s copy, of course). The earliest known copy of the Aurora is from the 1420s. It contains thirty-eight images showing allegorical representations of alchemical elements depicted in human or animal form, alchemical metaphors relating to human and animal procreation, and stages of the alchemical art of transformation.

Matthew has a copy of the Aurora dated 1356, containing forty images. Because the Aurora is one of the most important alchemical treatises ever written, Matthew was able to convince Diana to come to his house in France by offering to let her see his hitherto unknown copy. Bourgot Le Noir, who Matthew revealed did the illuminations for his copy, was the daughter of the famous fourteenth-century illuminator Jean le Noir. She lived and worked with her father in Paris, and their work was widely praised and patronized by French nobles of the time. Matthew’s copy includes an illustration of the chemical wedding of gold (representing the male principle in alchemical change) and silver (representing the female principle). Diana came to realize that these illustrations echo the second page of Ashmole 782, which shows the alchemical wedding of mercury and sulfur (a crucial step in making the philosopher’s stone), in which a golden-haired woman in white offers a white rose to a pale, dark-haired husband. It also represents her own wedding with Matthew, which results in the creation of a new element, their Bright Born children.

See also: ALCHEMY: Alchemical Imagery

“It is with the philosopher’s stone as with the Sea-serpent, some say they have seen it, while the whole mass of mankind has not; but the evidence of the few who have seen, outweighs the opinion of the many who have not.

A thing still is, though people know nothing about it.”*

Title: Splendor Solis (The Splendor of the Sun)

Author: Attributed to Salomon Trismosin

Background: Splendor Solis is a famous illustrated alchemical manuscript whose author was supposed to be the legendary Salomon Trismosin, allegedly the teacher of Paracelsus. The earliest version was written in Central German around 1532–35, and twenty copies are known to exist currently.

Splendor Solis is composed of twenty-two images that symbolize the process of the alchemical death and rebirth of the king, as well as a series of seven flasks, each of which is associated with one of the planets. Splendor Solis is different from other alchemical manuscripts in that it is not a lab manual but rather the expression of the philosophy of alchemy, in which the alchemist acts in harmony with nature, respecting divine creation while intervening in the process underlying that creation.

One of the most beautiful of the Splendor Solis manuscripts is the copy known as Harley 3469, housed at the British Library.

This magnificent illuminated manuscript is the one I consulted and used as a starting point for imagining the chemical wedding page of Ashmole 782.

See also: ALCHEMY: The Chemical Wedding

“Take your pot of mercury and seethe it over a flame for three hours, and when it has joined with the Philosophical Child take it and let it putrefy until the Black Crow carries it away to its death.”

Title: Book of Alchemical Formulas

Author: Claudio de Dominico Celentano di Valle Nove

Background: “The manuscript inside the next box was smaller than the last, but it contained interesting sketches of alchemical apparatus and snippets of chemical procedures that read like some unholy combination of Joy of Cooking and a poisoner’s notebook.” The Book of Alchemical Formulas is one of the manuscripts Diana needed to consult at the Bodleian Library in preparation for her upcoming keynote address. While she studied it, Matthew ensured her privacy by warding off all the curious creatures who had come to stare at her.

The Book of Alchemical Formulas is an obscure alchemical manuscript produced in Naples in 1606. Its illustrations range from exotic allegorical images to practical representations of the laboratory processes required in alchemy. Celentano states that the philosopher’s stone is red mercury—that is, mercury sulfide, which occurs naturally in cinnabar and was used for vermilion paint. Stages of the alchemical process were often tied to colors to represent the cycles of nature’s creations: nigredo (blackening), albedo (whitening), and rubedo (reddening), to represent putrefaction, purification, and perfection. A successful experiment is marked by a red rose.

See also: ALCHEMY: Opus Magnum and Symbols of Alchemy

“Nevertheless, I stoutly maintain that the Art of Alchemy is clear and true, and founded upon Nature; that its products are as truly silver and gold as the precious metals which are produced in the bowels of the earth; and that I am fully prepared to substantiate all these assertions in the following chapters, and to place them beyond the reach of reasonable doubt. We will triumphantly rebut the attacks of Aristotle, and refute all other objections, putting them to flight with the all-prevailing weapons of truth and reason.”

Title: Pretiosa Margarita Novella (New Pearl of Great Price)

Author: A compendium of alchemical texts made by Petrus Bonus, of works by Arnold of Villa Nova, Lull, Rhasis, Albertus Magnus, and Michael Scot

Background: Diana Bishop read this collection with Mary Sidney while the two of them worked together in the laboratory at Baynard’s Castle. It is a compendium of alchemical texts assembled by Petrus Bonus in 1330, although no manuscripts exist from that period. The manuscript was printed in 1546 by the famous Renaissance printer Aldus, who is credited with introducing a (badly needed!) standardized system of punctuation. Its initial illustrations show the death and subsequent resurrection of a king, a common theme used by alchemists. It is not known whether the illustrations date from the fourteenth century or were created for the Aldus version.

In the book a king is killed by his son, from whom he has been withholding his power. After the king is interred, the son is forced to join him in his tomb; alchemically speaking, the king is buried with the agent that killed him. The tomb is closed, and later some of the bones are removed. Then the courtiers pray to God, and a series of angels place the bones on the earth. In alchemical terms the bones represent the decomposed substance in the alchemist’s flask and the angels are the series of actions that transform this substance from putrefaction (death) to reddening (life). At the reddening stage, the king is resurrected and transformed by having absorbed the agent (his son) that led to his death. The king completes the transformation process by sharing his power with his son. The remainder of the book is a treatise on the virtues associated with alchemical practice.

“The which causeth our generation

Betwixt the Man and the woman

Soe looke that there be noe devision

Be there in the Coniuntion

Of the Moone and of the Sonne

After the Marrige is begun

And all the while they be a wedding

Give him to her drinking

Acetam that is good & fine

Better to him then any wine

Now when this Marriage is done

Philosophers call this a stone

The which hath great Nature

To bring a Stone yt is so pure”*

Title: The Ripley scroll

Author: Unknown

Background: “The dragon was not a dragon, for it had only two legs. It was a firedrake and carried its barbed tail in its mouth, like the ouroboros on the de Clermont banner. The firedrake’s head was tilted to the sky, and it held a crescent moon in its jaws. A multipointed star rose above it. Matthew’s emblem.” The image on the following page shows a section of Yale’s Ripley scroll (Beinecke Library MS Mellon 41)—the same one that Diana describes in this quote and that made up part of the mural in Mary Sidney’s laboratory.

George Ripley was one of England’s most famous alchemists, most widely known for his work The Compound of Alchymy, which was dedicated to King Edward IV in 1471. This poem describes the best way to make the philosopher’s stone, the substance that was supposed to transmute base metal into gold and confer long life on its possessor. Ripley’s works were studied both during his lifetime and after his death by natural philosophers and scientists such as John Dee, Robert Boyle, and Isaac Newton.

The manuscripts now known as the Ripley scrolls provide allegorical images of the processes involved in making the philosopher’s stone. They were actually created in the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, after Ripley’s death, and are copies of some long-lost originals. Though there is no evidence that Ripley in fact designed the original on which the scrolls are based, they were named after him because some of them include lines of his poetry and their imagery derives from his poem.

Ripley scrolls are very rare—only around two dozen survive—and they are seldom displayed because of their fragility. Sometimes, as with the Yale copy, the scrolls were cut into sections to prevent damage by being unrolled and rerolled. In this fragmented form, it’s hard to picture them as a forty-foot mural—but that’s the great thing about fiction.

Mythology

“I sing of Artemis, whose shafts are of gold, who cheers on the hounds, the pure maiden, shooter of stags, who delights in archery, own sister to Apollo with the golden sword. Over the shadowy hills and windy peaks she draws her golden bow, rejoicing in the chase, and sends out grievous shafts . . . and when she is satisfied and has cheered her heart, this huntress who delights in arrows slackens her supple bow and goes to the great house of her dear brother Phoebus Apollo, to the rich land of Delphi, there to order the lovely dance of the Muses and Graces.”*

Myth: Artemis/Diana

Origin: Greek (possibly pre-Greek) and Roman mythology

Background: Diana is a Roman goddess whose origins go back at least as far as the sixth century, when Servius Tullius, the sixth king of Rome according to legend, dedicated a temple to her on Rome’s Aventine Hill. Diana was goddess of both wild and domestic animals, of the hunt, and of childbirth. She is usually portrayed as a beautiful young woman wearing a short tunic and holding a bow, with a quiver of arrows slung over her shoulder, often accompanied by a deer. She lives on in the goddess that Diana Bishop and her family venerate.

Diana may originally have been an indigenous woodland goddess, but over time she became identified with the Greek goddess Artemis as well. Throughout the trilogy Diana Bishop is closely associated with both. The Dianic temple on Aventine Hill was dedicated on August 13, Diana Bishop’s birthday. Artemis had a twin brother named Apollo; Diana Bishop had a twin brother who died in the womb. The goddess Diana appears to Diana Bishop several times as a white deer. Most of all, Diana Bishop is linked to the goddess through her role as dispenser of justice.

The goddess is linked not only to Diana Bishop but also to Matthew de Clermont: One of the names Philippe uses for the goddess is Artemis Lykeiê (lady of the wolves). Because of her association with Artemis, the goddess Diana also absorbed Artemis’s connection with the moon goddess (Selene in Greek, Luna in Latin). Selene was associated with the crescent moon, which appears on the seal of the Knights of Lazarus.

“And lo! from opening clouds, I saw emerge

The loveliest moon, that ever silver’d o’er

A shell for Neptune’s goblet: she did soar

So passionately bright, my dazzled soul

Commingling with her argent spheres did roll

Through clear and cloudy, even when she went

At last into a dark and vapoury tent”*

Myth: Endymion

Origin: Greek mythology

Background: According to Greek myth, the moon goddess Selene was in love with a handsome Greek named Endymion. The myth has several versions, in which Endymion appears variously as a shepherd, a hunter, or a king. (Pliny the Elder claimed that Endymion was the first human to observe the movements of the moon, so he might also have been an early astronomer.) In any case, Selene is grieved that Endymion will eventually die, so she beseeches Zeus to make him immortal. Zeus grants her wish by casting Endymion into perpetual sleep.

Evidently Endymion was not a deep sleeper, because he and Selene were supposed to have had fifty daughters, whom scholars believe represented the fifty lunar months. The ancient Greeks devised a calendar called the octaeteris, which was eight solar years or ninety-nine lunar months. According to legend and Greek historians, the Greeks started keeping this eight-year calendar when they began the Olympic Games in 776 B.C. In time the octaeteris came to be measured in two four-year periods, which the Greeks called Olympiads.

The myth of Endymion appeared in Shadow of Night because of the emperor Rudolf II’s attraction to Diana Bishop, whom he dubbed “La Diosa.” He hoped to convince her to participate with him in a risqué play—specifically an enactment of the myth in which the young hunter Actaeon surprises the goddess Diana naked in her bath. La Diosa quickly suggested the myth of Diana and Endymion instead, with Matthew as Endymion and Rudolf as Zeus. The resulting production bore more resemblance to a Monty Python skit than to a classical play, but at least it stayed within the bounds of propriety.

“To appoint me penalties and tasks earth is not broad enough for Juno’s hate. I have seen places unapproached by any, unknown to Phoebus, those gloomy spaces which the baser pole hath yielded to infernal Jove; and if the regions of the third estate pleased me, I might have reigned. The chaos of everlasting night, and something worse than night, and the grim gods and the fates—all these I saw and, having flouted death, I have come back.”*

Myth: Heracles/Hercules

Origin: Greek and Roman mythology, from at least as early as the first century B.C.

Background: Heracles (known to the Romans as Hercules) was one of the greatest Greek heroes. In addition to being semidivine, he was the epitome of strength, masculinity, and courage. He was the son of Zeus through a liaison with the mortal woman Alcmene. Zeus tricked Alcmene into sleeping with him one night by disguising himself as her husband, Amphitryon. Later that night Amphitryon returned from war and slept with his wife as well. Two sons were conceived: Heracles, the son of Zeus, and Iphicles, the son of Amphitryon. (It is actually possible, though rare, for a woman to become pregnant with twins from two different fathers.) Zeus’s wife, Hera, was notoriously jealous and hated Heracles for providing constant evidence of Zeus’s infidelity, so she persecuted Heracles throughout his life.

Heracles was originally named Alcides by his parents, but they later changed his name as an homage to Hera to try to mitigate her hatred. This was unsuccessful. Hera afflicted Heracles with madness, causing him to slaughter his wife and children. His punishment was to carry out ten (later twelve) almost impossible tasks—the famous Labors of Hercules. Among these were slaying the Nemean lion, cleaning the Augean stables (home to over three thousand head of cattle) in a single day, and capturing Cerberus, the hound that guards the gates of the underworld. For his role in the slaying of monsters, Heracles came to be associated with the protection of mankind.

As readers of the trilogy know, the vampire Philippe de Clermont has many traits in common with Heracles. Heracles is often portrayed wearing a lion skin; as Diana noted, Philippe strongly resembled a lion. Heracles’ eleventh labor was to best the giant Antaeus in a wrestling match; Gallowglass reported that Philippe wrestled a giant once. In the sacred grove of the goddess Diana near Sept-Tours, Philippe referred to himself by Heracles’ original given name, Alcides, followed by Leontothymos (the lion-hearted). In his Varia historia (Various Histories), the Roman author Aelian recounted how Heracles was fond of games and often played with children—like Philippe, who appointed a child Lord of Misrule on Saturnalia and obeyed his command to dance with the servant Alain. And tragically, in a parallel to Heracles, Philippe was driven mad by his sufferings in a Nazi concentration camp, although nothing could induce him to hurt his beloved Ysabeau.

“To Nereus and rich-haired Doris, daughter of Okeanos (Oceanus), there were born in the barren sea daughters greatly beautiful even among goddesses . . . [Fifty Nereids are named, ending with] Nemertes, whose mind is like that of her immortal father. These were the daughters born to irreproachable Nereus, fifty in all, and the actions they know are beyond reproach, also.”*

Myth: Nereus

Origin: Greek or pre-Greek mythology

Background: Nereus was the eldest son of Pontus (the Sea) and Gaius (the Earth). Homer’s Iliad described an Old Man of the Sea, who fathered the sea nymphs called the Nereids, though the Iliad didn’t mention Nereus by name. Though he was a shapeshifter, Nereus was known for telling no lies and for being the most trustworthy and gentle of creatures. He could also prophesy the future. He was eventually supplanted by another sea god, Triton.

Nereus was instrumental in enabling Heracles to fulfill his eleventh labor: stealing golden apples from the Garden of the Hesperides. Before Heracles could set out on his journey, he had to wrestle the shape-shifting god to force him to provide directions.

One of Nereus’s daughters, Thetis, married Peleus and became the mother of the Greek hero Achilles.

See also: Heracles, Peleus and Thetis, Achilles

“Far happier then were the times for men,

Fondly yearned for now! You heroes, so bred

Of gods in those silver days, favor me

As I call you now with my magic song”*

Myth: Peleus and Thetis

Origin: Greek mythology, pre-eighth century B.C.

Background: The myth of Peleus is mentioned in Homer’s Odyssey. Peleus was not a god but a hero who was a friend of Heracles and served in the quest for the Golden Fleece. He was originally married to Antigone, who hanged herself after Peleus was falsely accused of infidelity. He then married Thetis, who was a Nereid, one of fifty daughters of the sea god Nereus. It had been prophesied that the son born to Thetis would be greater than his father—a daunting prospect for a prospective husband. Also, like her father, Thetis was a shapeshifter who could transform herself into water and fire and air, and most men were afraid to take her for a wife. On advice from the centaur Chiron, however, Peleus clasped Thetis to his heart while she changed from water to fire to serpent to lioness. Once she became a woman again, he took her to his home and the two were wed.

Incidentally, it was at their wedding that Eris, the Greek goddess of discord (who had not been invited), produced the Golden Apple of Discord that eventually led to the Trojan War. We’ve all known people like this.

It’s fitting that Philippe told the story of Peleus and Thetis at Matthew and Diana’s wedding. They, too, must hold on to each other through a series of changes and revelations that would have deterred lesser creatures.

See also: Heracles, Nereus, Achilles

“Those words stirred within Achilles a deep desire

To grieve for his own father. . . . And overpowered by memory

Both men gave way to grief. Priam wept freely

For man-killing Hector, throbbing, crouching

Before Achilles’ feet as Achilles wept himself,

Now for his father, now for Patroclus once again

And their sobbing rose and fell throughout the house.”*

Myth: Achilles

Origin: Greek or pre-Greek mythology

Background: Achilles was the only surviving son of Peleus and Thetis’s seven sons. Understandably, Thetis wanted to make Achilles invulnerable. In some versions of the myth, she did this by holding him by the heel and dipping him into the river Styx, leaving his heel (his “Achilles’ heel”) unprotected. In other versions she anointed him with ambrosia during the day and burned away the mortal parts of his body by night. When Peleus interrupted her efforts, however, she furiously leaped into the sea and never returned. Peleus then gave Achilles to his former teacher, the centaur Chiron, to raise.

Achilles became a hero of the Trojan War and a central character in Homer’s Iliad, where he is portrayed as proud, stubborn, and often driven by rage. After Hector, the son of Sparta’s king Priam, killed Achilles’ dear friend Patroclus, Achilles killed Hector and desecrated his body so viciously that even the gods were upset and intervened. It’s no wonder that when Philippe recounted the tale of Peleus and Thetis, Diana thought, “I was glad that his father didn’t give a full account of the wedding and how the Trojan War got started there. And I was even happier that he didn’t go on to tell the tale of Achilles’ youth: the horrible spells his mother used to try to make him immortal as she was and the young man’s uncontrollable rage—which caused him far more trouble than did his famously unprotected heel.” Diana probably recognized that Achilles’ worst traits parallel those of Matthew de Clermont.

“But I can tell you what to do

to come unchanged from Kirkê’s power

and disenthrall your fighting crew:

take with you to her bower

as amulet, this plant I know—

it will defeat her horrid show . . .

when she turns cruel, coming near

with her long stick to whip you out of doors,

then let your cutting blade appear,

Let instant death upon it shine,

and she will cower and yield her bed—

a pleasure you must not decline,

so may her lust and fear bestead

you and your friends, and break her spell;

but make her swear by heaven and hell

no witches’ tricks, or else, your harness shed,

you’ll be unmanned by her as well.”*

Myth: Odysseus and Circe

Origin: Greek mythology/legend

Background: Odysseus was a legendary Greek hero whose adventures are recounted both in Homer’s Iliad, which takes place during the Trojan War, and in its sequel, the Odyssey, which tells the story of Odysseus’ ten-year journey home afterward. Odysseus was Achilles’ opposite—wily, restrained, and cerebral as well as strong. Odysseus was responsible for the ruse of the Trojan horse, which enabled the Greeks to win the war. The Greeks admired such traits, but the Romans (who called him Ulysses) were not impressed. Odysseus’ tricks offended the Roman sense of honor, and in any case they preferred the Trojan side of the story, because they held themselves to be descendants of the Trojan hero Aeneas.

Circe was known sometimes as a goddess of magic, sometimes as a witch or a sorceress. According to some sources, her mother was Hecate, the goddess of witchcraft. Circe was known for her knowledge of herbs and potions, and she had the ability to turn her enemies into animals. Odysseus and his men visited her island of Aeaea during their voyage to Odysseus’ home, where she transformed some of the men into swine after a feast of wine and cheese (this still happens occasionally). Odysseus did not attend the feast and so did not fall prey to this trick. Before Odysseus confronted Circe, the god Hermes provided him with an antidote to her witchcraft. Hermes also warned that when Circe invited Odysseus to bed, he must make her swear on the names of all the gods not to take his manhood. With this assurance Odysseus remained with Circe for a full year before his men could convince him to move on—while his wife, Penelope, sat at home and weaved.

The story of Odysseus and Circe was another one of the Emperor Rudolf’s suggestions for a spring masque starring himself and Diana Bishop—the idea of begging Diana not to take his manhood held a perverse appeal. She quickly suggested the story of Diana and Endymion, with Rudolf playing the role of Zeus.

See also: Endymion, Achilles

“She saw Valkyries

come from far and wide,

ready to ride

to Goðþjóð.

Skuld held a shield,

and Skögul was another,

Gunnr, Hildr, Göndul

and Geirskögul.”*

Myth: Göndul, Odin’s daughter

Origin: Norse mythology

Background: In Norse mythology Göndul is a Valkyrie, sometimes also referred to as a daughter of the great god Odin. She is mentioned in the Heimskringla, a collection of sagas about the Norse kings written by Snorri Sturluson around the year A.D. 1230, and in a poem in the thirteenth-century Poetic Edda. The word “Valkyrie” comes from the Old Norse Valkyrja, literally “chooser of the slain.” The Valkyries were female warrior goddesses who influenced the course of battle and served Odin’s wishes as to which warriors should live and which would die. The best warriors who died in battle went to Valhalla, Odin’s hall of the slain, so that they could later serve on his side in the eschatological battle that was to end the current cosmic order.

Warriors who wanted to be taken by the Valkyries fought in a terrible trancelike fury, abandoning all humanity. Some, called berserkers (from the Old Norse berserkir, or bear shirts), wore during battle a shirt or coat made from the pelt of a bear. Odin was sometimes represented by a bear, and the berserkers hoped to gain favor with him by wearing its pelt. The Úlfhéðnar (from the Old Norse for wolf hides), on the other hand, dressed in the pelts of wolves. Basically, both groups fought like animals. When Diana Bishop first met Gallowglass, she asked Matthew, “This . . . berserker is your nephew?” Gallowglass mildly replied, “For your information, my people were Úlfhéðnar, not berserkers. And I’m only part Norse—the gentle part, if you must know. The rest is Scots, by way of Ireland.”

Gallowglass once compared Diana with Göndul—fittingly, since the name is said to come from the Old Norse gandr, meaning “magic” or “magic wand.”

See also: Huginn and Muninn

“Hugin and Munin fly each day

over the spacious earth.

I fear for Hugin, that he come not back,

yet more anxious am I for Munin”*

Myth: Huginn and Muninn

Origin: Norse mythology

Background: Muninn derives from the Old Norse for “memory” or “mind,” and Huginn derives from the word for “thought.” In Norse mythology these are the names of the two ravens who fly all over the world to provide intelligence to the god Odin. The ravens are mentioned in a collection of anonymous Old Norse minstrel poems now referred to as the Poetic Edda. The poems were compiled in the thirteenth century from sources whose exact date is not known. The illustration here, from an eighteenth-century Icelandic manuscript, shows them perching on Odin’s shoulders to give him the news of the day.

While Diana and Matthew were in Prague, staying at a house called the Three Ravens, Gallowglass compared himself and Matthew with Odin’s ravens. Fittingly, Gallowglass is Muninn (memory) and the intellectual Matthew is Huginn (thought).

“All they could do was make sure their children knew Dagwanoenyent’s legend, carefully instructing them how to kill such a creature by burning him, grinding his bones into powder, and dispersing it to the four winds so that he could not be reborn.”

Myth: Dagwanoenyent

Origin: Iroquois mythology

Background: Dagwanoenyent is a mythic figure of the Iroquois people. According to a legend of the Seneca tribe, she was the daughter of the wind, a vicious witch who could travel in a whirlwind and could not be killed. One story is that an uncle and a nephew lived near Dagwanoenyent and her child, and the nephew was forbidden any contact with them. The nephew disobeyed, however, and often sneaked off to visit them. When the child turned fifteen, he revealed to the nephew that they were both cousins and that the uncle was Dagwanoenyent’s husband. The boy was upset and pierced a bag of oil that hung over Dagwanoenyent’s head. Later he confessed this to his uncle, who told him they were now in great danger. Soon Dagwanoenyent came to the uncle’s house as a whirlwind and destroyed it, carrying him away. The nephew and his guardian, Mole, searched for the uncle and rescued him from under an elm tree. They went to Dagwanoenyent’s house and killed her by burning her body in a fire of bear oil. She revived, however, and once again the uncle and nephew killed her with fire. Afterward they pounded her bones into a fine powder and divided the powder into three separate bags—one each for uncle, nephew, and Mole. Whenever there is a storm, they must keep the bags apart so that the powder can’t unite and revive Dagwanoenyent.

During the Revolutionary War, it is understandable that the Oneida (who were closely allied with the Seneca) referred to Matthew as Dagwanoenyent. Like her, he is difficult to kill—except perhaps by fire.

History, Magic, Science and Religion

Querie 14. All that the witch-finder doth, is to fleece the country of their money, and therefore rides and goes to townes to have imployment, and promiseth them faire promises, and it may be doth nothing for it and possesseth many men that they have so many wizards and so many witches in their towne, and so hartens them on to entertaine him.

Answer. You doe him a great deale of wrong in every of these particulars.*

Title: The Discovery of Witches

Author: Matthew Hopkins (c. 1620–47)

Background: This historical volume, whose title is echoed by the All Souls trilogy’s A Discovery of Witches, was written by the notorious seventeenth-century English witchfinder Matthew Hopkins. It first appeared in print in 1647 and lays out his “revelations” and methods for discovering and prosecuting witches. Matthew Hopkins turned to witch-hunting in 1644 and, along with his associate John Stearne, focused his work on the towns and villages of England’s eastern counties, particularly East Anglia. The huge increase of trials and executions for witchcraft at this time was a direct result of these two men’s investigations. More people were hanged during the short period of their activity than from any of the witch-hunts in the preceding hundred years. But as their reign of terror escalated, voices spoke out against them and the expenses they demanded from each community they passed through.

The Discovery of Witches, laid out as a set of Queries and Answers, reads like a vindication of Matthew Hopkins’s methods and experience, as well as a denial of the accusation that “he must needs be the greatest Witch, Sorcerer, and Wizzard himselfe, else hee could not doe it.” To the relief of many, Hopkins retired soon after its publication and died in obscurity in 1647. Sadly, with the publication of this book, his legacy crossed borders. The witch trials that soon followed in the new colonies of America, particularly New England, adopted his methods, including the Salem Witch Trials, to which Diana’s ancestor Bridget Bishop fell victim later in the century.

“God suffers in the multitude of souls whom His word can not reach. Religious truth is imprisoned in a small number of manuscript books which confine instead of spread the public treasure. Let us break the seal which seals up holy things and give wings to Truth in order that she may win every soul that comes into the world by her word no longer written at great expense by hands easily palsied, but multiplied like the wind by an untiring machine.”

—Johannes Gutenberg

Title: Biblia sacra 1450 or Gutenberg Bible

Printer: Johannes Gutenberg (c. 1398–1468)

Background: Matthew de Clermont’s library in Sept-Tours is full of astonishing treasures, his Gutenberg Bible being chief among them. One of the most famous books in the world, and probably one of the most expensive, the Biblia sacra is the first Bible printed using movable type. It marked the birth of mass-produced literature, accelerating the spread of the written word in the West. Systems of movable type had been invented previously in Asia, but the far fewer characters in European languages made it a more viable method that, once perfected, took off in the Western world. Johannes Gutenberg’s complex calculations ensured that the mechanics of the press worked in unison. He based the design on the wine presses of his area, producing metal type that could be applied with the correct and even pressure required not to tear the paper and using oil-based ink that stuck to the type but would transfer easily to the paper without blotting the text.

Copies of the Biblia sacra, or “forty-two-line” Bible (as it is known due to the number of lines per page), were produced in Mainz in the 1450s by Gutenberg and his colleagues Johan Fust and Peter Schoeffer. Printing on vellum and the majority on paper, they combined the old and new, with the text printed on the presses and beautiful illuminations added later by hand in the traditional way. Before Gutenberg’s revolutionary invention, the slow and painstaking process of handwriting works that still prevailed in Europe had made books expensive and exclusive. The printing press changed all that, allowing Renaissance advancements in thought and the ideas of the scientific revolution and the Reformation to be disseminated quickly to a much wider spectrum of people.

“Nothing is miserable unless you think it so; and on the other hand, nothing brings happiness unless you are content with it.”*

Title: De consolatione philosophiae or Consolation of Philosophy

Author: Anicius Manlius Severinus Boëthius, commonly known as Boethius (c. 480–524)

Background: When Matthew abruptly left Sept-Tours after his encounter with the vampire Domenico, a grief-stricken Diana perused the contents of his study in an effort to know him better. On a shelf holding a wooden toy that had belonged to Lucas, Matthew’s long-dead human son, Diana found a copy of Boethius’s Consolation of Philosophy. She instantly realized the significance of the work: “I imagined Matthew, bereft of Blanca and Lucas and bewildered by his new identity as a vampire, reading words written by a condemned man.”

Boethius was an imperial official under Theodoric the Great, Ostrogoth ruler of Rome, in the early sixth century. He became a senator at the age of twenty-five and held a number of important offices, but in a spectacular fall from favor he was imprisoned for alleged treason in the year 523. A year later Boethius was executed without a trial. It was during that time that he wrote the Consolation.

Boethius was fluent in Greek and had studied the Platonic dialogues, in which characters discuss moral and philosophical problems. Consolation was written in the form of a dialogue between Boethius and Lady Philosophy, and it described the peace that can be found through a contemplative state of mind. Boethius’s ethical discussions resonate to this day. Are human beings essentially good? Does man possess free will? God is not mentioned, nor religion, but the work was a major influence on the Christianity of the Middle Ages. It also influenced the poetry of Geoffrey Chaucer, was cited in Dante’s Divine Comedy, and is reflected in “Boethian” remarks by characters in Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings. Clearly it influenced the young vampire Matthew, who anguished over the senseless loss of his innocent wife and child and his own attempted suicide.

“There will be some men or other, superstitious and blind, who see life plain in even the lowest animals and the meanest plants, but do not see life in the heavens or the world. . . . Now if those little men grant life to the smallest particles of the world, what folly! what envy! neither to know that the Whole, in which ‘we live and move and have our being,’ is itself alive, nor to wish this to be so.”*

Title: The Book of Life or De vita libri tres (Three Books of Life)

Author: Marsilio Ficino (1433–99)

Background: This is the work from which the final book in the trilogy takes its title. The Book of Life, made up of three volumes and published in 1489, is a broad and significant work by one of the leading humanist intellectuals of the Renaissance, Marsilio Ficino. Based in Florence in the fifteenth century, Ficino was a philosopher, scholar, and priest under the patronage of the powerful Medici. Cosimo de Medici chose him to head up his Platonic Academy in Florence. Like all the humanists of his age, Ficino combined study of the classics with a Christian worldview, and he was famous for his translations of Plato’s work, bringing him back to the fore in Renaissance thought, and reviving his ideas about the immortality of the soul. Ficino’s studies also ranged from astrology to medicine (undoubtedly influenced by his father, who had been a physician to the Medici).

The Book of Life is Ficino’s all-encompassing guide on how to live a healthy, fulfilling life, both physically and mentally. Split into three books, De vita sana (On Healthy Life), De vita longa (On Long Life), and De vita coelitus comparanda (On Obtaining Life from the Heavens), the entire volume is a complicated mix of medical, philosophical, astrological, and magical advice. Ficino also endorsed a natural magic, which looked for remedies in the natural world and the movement of the planets but stayed away from magic that involved the “worship of daemons.” From letters of the time, it seems the astrological and magical elements in the book still sparked unwelcome murmurings of heresy that concerned Ficino, but fortunately these did not come to anything.

“Letters are signs of things, symbols of words, whose power is so great that without a voice they speak to us the words of the absent; for they introduce words by the eye, not by the ear.”*

Title: Etymologiae (The Etymologies)

Author: Isidore of Seville (c. 560–636)

Background: Alone in Matthew’s study after he left Sept-Tours to investigate the break-in at Oxford, Diana discovered a manuscript copy of Etymologiae. “It represented Isidore of Seville’s attempt to capture all of human knowledge, and it would have appealed to Matthew’s endless curiosity.” Matthew was eager to learn everything there was to know after his rebirth as a vampire, and this seventh-century equivalent of the internet was a good start. Indeed, in 1997 Pope John Paul II suggested that Isidore be recognized as the patron saint of the internet, though this has not yet been formalized.

Isidore was the archbishop of Seville from about the year 600 until his death in 636. He is now known mainly for his authorship of Etymologiae, a twenty-volume compendium of writings dating from the fourth century to the sixth. Isidore’s purpose was to set down all the knowledge of his time, probably to provide an education for clergy. For centuries his encyclopedia was a principal reference source and a staple of almost every monastic library. Nearly a thousand manuscript copies survive today, and it was among the earliest books to be printed (1472).

The Etymologiae contain the lore of the late classical world beginning with the Seven Liberal Arts: grammar, dialectic, rhetoric, geometry, arithmetic, astronomy, and music. They also cover such disparate topics as road making, agriculture, clothing, and games. The work consists almost entirely of excerpts and paraphrases from earlier writers; for example, books 12 through 14 come mainly from Pliny the Elder’s Natural History. Isidore acknowledged Pliny but not three other main sources, and much of his material was derived from writers of earlier encyclopedias, whom he also left unacknowledged.

The value of The Etymologies lies not in their originality but in their preservation of the knowledge of earlier centuries. On the other hand, translator Katherine Nell MacFarlane notes that Etymologiae might have contributed to the loss of these earlier works precisely because Isidore was supposed to have extracted from them everything worth knowing.

“I have therefore written of the symbolic philosophy of the art of Kabalah so as to make Pythagorean doctrine better known to scholars. I take no sides in all this. I tell my story as an outsider.”*

—Johannes Reuchlin

Title: De arcanis catholicae veritatis (Concerning Secrets of the Universal Truth)

Author: Pietro Colonna Galatino (1460–1540)

Background: Peter Knox’s informants, scattered all around Europe, kept him up to date on any important discoveries that would provide clues to the Book of Life. Pavel Skovajsa at the Strahov Monastery in Prague finally found a significant letter for Knox hidden in the endpapers of an old book. The book was a copy of the De arcanis catholicae veritatis. The letter from Rabbi Loew revealed to Knox that Edward Kelley had removed three pages from the Book of Life before it was stolen. It is ironic that Loew’s letter should be hidden in a book notorious in the Renaissance struggle between factions of the Catholic Church and the Jews.

Pietro Colonna Galatino was an Italian theologian who was charged by the pope and Holy Roman emperor to write the De arcanis catholicae veritatis in 1516. Johannes Reuchlin’s work, De arte cabbalistica, was also included within the copy of Galatino’s book that Pavel Skovajsa discovered. Reuchlin, a contemporary of Galatino, was a German scholar and an expert in Hebrew and Greek. He became locked in an intellectual struggle with other theologians who believed that Jewish literature hindered the Jews’ conversion to Christianity and that their books should be burned. Galatino defended Reuchlin’s claim that Jewish sources were valuable for Christian scholars and should not be destroyed. He took it even further in this work by twisting interpretations of the Jewish texts to claim they proved the truth of Christian doctrines.

Reuchlin’s enemies managed to have him called before the Inquisition and a papal court, but the trial was eventually suppressed. And the church soon had a far bigger crisis to contend with: When in 1517 Reuchlin saw the theses put forward by Martin Luther, he exclaimed, “Thanks be to God, at last they have found a man who will give them so much to do that they will be compelled to let my old age end in peace.”

“A great many things keep happening, some of them good, some of them bad. The inhabitants of different countries keep quarreling fiercely with each other and kings go on losing their temper in the most furious way.”*

Title: Historia francorum (The History of the Franks)

Author: Gregory of Tours (c. 538–94)

Background: The sixth-century French historian and bishop Gregory of Tours was born in the Auvergne’s Clermont-Ferrand. His work The History of the Franks is one of the most famous sources of that period, and Philippe de Clermont approved of Diana’s reading it.

Gregory lamented that none of his contemporaries were recording events, so he ambitiously decided to begin at “the foundation of the world.” He started with Adam and Eve and worked his way through the years, recounting the significant people and events that had shaped the lands around him, up to and including the period in which he lived. The book, made up of ten volumes, covers Europe at a time when the breakup of the Roman Empire had caused huge shifts. The Frankish kings and queens, including the famous Merovingian dynasty, had stepped into the power vacuum. Gregory records the brutal battles, power plays, and interfamily murders, as well as his own chronicle of events as bishop of Tours, including natural events and ominous portents in the Auvergne at the time. Gregory himself came from a privileged family, in the main connected to the church, with a particular monopoly on the bishopric of Tours. This was especially through his mother, Armentaria, whom Philippe believed to be a far superior linguist to her son. Philippe also revealed to Diana that Matthew had known Gregory when he was a boy and had studied with him in Tours.

“How much lesse shall I thy handmaide, being by kinde a weake woman, have sufficient abilitie to rule these thy kingdomes of England and Ireland, an innumerable and warlike nation.”*

Title: Queen Elizabeth’s Prayer Book or “Protestant Book of Hours”

Printer/Producer: John Day (c. 1522–84)

Background: To help her keep up appearances as a married woman in the sixteenth century, Matthew gave Diana a copy of what was known as “Queen Elizabeth’s Prayer Book.” This was first printed in 1569 and was reissued many times during the queen’s long reign. It is often referred to as the “Protestant Book of Hours” due to its beautifully lavish and hand-colored illustrations and was a collection of “Christian Prayers and Meditations in English.” It was printed in London by John Day, a Protestant printer based in Aldersgate (not far from where Diana and Matthew lived in Blackfriars). The woodcut portrait of Elizabeth kneeling in prayer that Diana saw tied it clearly to her as the reigning monarch of the day. And a copy held by the Lambeth Palace Library in England includes special prayers referring to Elizabeth in the first person, indicating it was presented to her as her personal copy.

“There are two sorts of Magic. The one is infamous, and unhappy, because it has to do with foul Spirits, and consists of incantations and wicked curiosity, and this is called Sorcery, an art which all learned and good men detest. Neither is it able to yield an truth of reason or nature, but stands merely upon fancies and imaginations, such as vanish presently away, and leave nothing behind them. . . . The other Magic is natural, which all excellent wise men do admit and embrace, and worship with great applause.”*

Title: Magia naturalis (Natural Magic)

Author: Giambattista della Porta (1535–1615)

Background: Renaissance scholar Giambattista della Porta was an Italian, born in Naples to a rich and influential family, who from childhood had been surrounded by scholars. As with most intellectuals of the Renaissance, della Porta’s interests were very wide-ranging, and he was known for his plays as well as for studies on astrology, alchemy, and natural philosophy. His Magia naturalis was first published in 1558, with updated versions released later in his life. Translations (including English) all over Europe marked its popularity at the time. In the Magia naturalis, della Porta laid out his broad studies and theories of the natural world and how they could be utilized and manipulated by men. Topics range from magnetism, medicine, and recipes to the camera obscura. His observation on lenses—that with “a concave you will see small things afar off very clearly; with convex, things nearer appear bigger, but more obscurely; if you know how to fit them together, you will see things afar off, and things near at hand, both greater and clearly”—was what, in Shadow of Night, ignited Thomas Harriot’s interest, contributing to his invention of the refracting telescope.

“Whether the Belief that there are such Beings as Witches is so Essential a Part of the Catholic Faith that Obstinacy to maintain the Opposite Opinion manifestly savours of Heresy.”*

Title: Malleus Maleficarum (The Hammer of Witches)

Author: Jacob Sprenger (c. 1436–95) and Heinrich Kramer (c. 1430–1505)

Background: The Hammer of Witches, published in 1486, was the book that Mr. Danforth carried in sixteenth-century Woodstock to back up his accusations against Diana Bishop. It became the manual in the medieval period for the persecution of witches. Written originally in Latin by Jacob Sprenger and Heinrich Kramer, it is made up of three parts. Similar to Hopkins’s later Discovery of Witches, the book is laid out as a dialogue, preempting the reader’s queries. The first volume attacks those who dispute the existence of witches and explains why it is largely women who convene with the Devil. The second part examines the three main maleficia of witches and how they might be combated or cured. It tells of witches’ tricks and black arts, including a whole chapter dedicated to “How, as it were, they Deprive Man of his Virile Member.” The third part then looks at the legal processes of prosecuting a witch and how a defendant should be tortured in different ways that relate to her crime until she confesses. As Diana noted, it struck terror into the hearts of all witches for centuries.

“Omnia nodis arcanis connexa quiescunt”

“All things are at rest, connected by secret knots.”*

Title: Magnes sive de Arte Magnetica

Author: Athanasius Kircher (c. 1601/2–80)

Background: In Diana’s search for the Book of Life’s missing pages, it’s not surprising her investigations led her to the seventeenth-century scholar Athanasius Kircher. Kircher, who was born in Germany, educated as a Jesuit, and later moved to Rome, was a renowned international figure of scholarship in his lifetime. Writing, experimenting, and collecting curiosities on a huge range of topics in his search for universal knowledge, he was a polymath who carried on the spirit of the learned Renaissance man. His museum of rare and ancient objects was a must-see on early European grand tours. He became particularly famous for his work on Egyptian hieroglyphics, although his findings were later disproved as meaningless guesswork. It was his fame for deciphering that led scholars to seek his aid with the mysterious Voynich manuscript.

The frontispiece for his Magnes sive de Arte Magnetica was what convinced Diana that Kircher had seen the Tree of Life illumination from the Book of Life’s missing page. This book on magnetism was another example of Kircher’s broad range of interests, encompassing magnetism in the widest possible sense, from gravity to love.

“Through bitter sweetness and delightful pain, I fall to the center and am drawn up toward the sky; necessity constrains me while the good leads me on; fate draws me to the abyss, while counsel uplifts me; desire urges me on, while fear bridles me; care burns me and keeps me long in peril.”*

Title: The Heroic Frenzies

Author: Giordano Bruno (1548–1600)

Background: Giordano Bruno, born Filippo Bruno, was connected with the scholars to whom Diana was introduced in sixteenth-century England, not to mention Matthew himself. Matthew revealed to Diana that Bruno had been a daemon who crossed the madness-genius divide more often than most. The Heroic Frenzies, dedicated to Mary Sidney’s brother, Philip Sidney, was one of many works Bruno published in the 1580s while he was in England. The book is structured in the form of a dialogue, with sonnets woven throughout, and describes the ascent of the soul through the myriad challenges and rewards of love, ultimately attaining the ideal. His observations and language struck a chord with Diana when she thought about her own magical powers, as well as her relationship with Matthew.

Giordano Bruno was an Italian priest, born in Nola in the Kingdom of Naples (referring to himself as the Nolan) and known as a philosopher, mathematician, poet, and astrologer. He became most famous for his views on cosmology, endorsing Copernicus’s revolutionary theory that the sun, not the earth, was the fixed center of the universe, with the earth and planets rotating around it. Bruno took this further by suggesting the universe was infinite and that there were other distant suns that could also support life. Bruno’s strong opinions fostered many critics and enemies, and he was finally tried by the Inquisition for heresy and burned at the stake in Rome in 1600. Many have since celebrated him as a martyr for science.

“The witch Roger Bacon owned it and valued it for a great treasure. His name is on the title page, along with the inscription Verum Secretum Secretorum.”

Title: Verum secretum secretorum (The True Secret of Secrets)

Author: Unknown (possibly tenth century)

Background: John Dee was very attached to his precious copy of the Verum secretum secretorum. Dee’s copy had once belonged to Roger Bacon, an English philosopher and student of nature (and a witch) in the thirteenth century, who acquired a reputation as a possessor of forbidden knowledge and a magician. Bacon produced his own annotated version of the book with an introduction.

The Verum secretum secretorum was an encyclopedic work, also known as the Kitāb Sirr al-Asrār (The Secret Book of Secrets). It is structured as a series of letters from Aristotle to Alexander the Great, advising Alexander on a huge number of subjects, from statecraft and “the maner of kynges” to astrology and medicine, “the governayle of helth.” First translated into Latin from Arabic in the mid-twelfth century, with claims that it came from a Greek original (now disappeared), it is believed by scholars today to have been written originally in Arabic in the tenth century, not a true work by Aristotle. Medieval readers seemed to believe that it was by Aristotle, however, and it was translated and circulated widely in Europe at the time.

When Edward Kelley revealed Dee’s copy of the book (which he had stolen from Dee and swapped with the Voynich manuscript) to Diana and Matthew in Prague, it shimmered with power. Diana recognized instantly that it was not the Secretum secretorum she knew from her studies but in fact the Book of Life, complete with the three missing pages in place. When Diana united the Book of Life with its missing pages again in the present day, her unusual connection to the book became clear to those around her.

Readers have asked me how I picture Diana once she has absorbed the Book of Life. She would have looked like a human palimpsest, with strange shadows and images sometimes appearing, then disappearing, on her skin. These marks are not always—or even often!—visible. Like Ashmole 782, Diana can hide her secret knowledge from prying eyes.

Declaring the damnable life and death of one Stubbe Peeter, a most wicked Sorcerer, who in the likenes of a Woolfe, committed many murders, continuing this diuelish practise 25. yeeres, killing and devouring Men, Woomen, and Children.

Who for the same fact was taken and executed the 31. of October last past in the Towne of Bedbur neer the Cittie of Collin in Germany.

Trulye translated out of the high Duch, according to the Copie printed in Collin, brought ouer into England by George Bores ordinary Poste, the xj. daye of this present Moneth of Iune 1590. who did both see and heare the same.

AT LONDON Printed for Edward Venge, and are to be solde in Fleet-street at the signe of the Vine.*

Title: Peter Stubbe Pamphlet

Author: Unknown

Background: The English pamphlet describing the trial and execution of serial killer Peter Stubbe, the Werewolf of Bedburg in Germany, was translated from the original German (of which no copies remain) and printed in London in 1590. Diana discovered a copy in an apothecary shop there. Stubbe was a farmer who terrorized the community in which he lived. The gruesome details of how he murdered, dismembered, and ate his numerous victims were laid out for the public in this sensationalist pamphlet, which reminded Diana of modern tabloids. Stubbe was alternately accused of sorcery and taking the shape of a wolf, but Diana believed he must have been a vampire. After he was arrested, his mistress and daughter (with whom he was accused of incest) were both executed as his accomplices, and the brutality of Stubbe’s torture and execution shows the fear he had incited. As a warning the authorities erected the wheel on which he was tortured, with the likeness of a wolf placed above it, at the top of a pole, along with Stubbe’s severed head.

This book, bequeathed to me by an intimate friend, I destined for you, my very dear Athanasius, as soon as it came into my possession, for I was convinced that it could be read by no one except yourself. . . .

Dr. Raphael, a tutor in the Bohemian language to Ferdinand III, then King of Bohemia, told me the said book belonged to the Emperor Rudolph and that he presented to the bearer who brought him the book 600 ducats. He believed the author was Roger Bacon, the Englishman. On this point I suspend judgement; it is your place to define for us what view we should take thereon, to whose favor and kindness I unreservedly commit myself and remain

At the command of your Reverence,

Joannes Marcus Marci of Cronland

Prague, 19th August, 1666*

Title: The Voynich manuscript or Beinecke MS 408

Author: Unknown

Background: The Voynich manuscript is one of the great unsolved puzzles of historical research. What does the manuscript mean, and where does it come from? When Diana was lucky enough to study the manuscript in Yale’s Beinecke Library, hoping to find clues about the Book of Life’s missing pages, she was led into the complicated maze of its origins, with tantalizing clues about the men who had owned it, but nothing definitive.

The manuscript itself is written in an unidentifiable script, with illustrations of strange, unrecognizable plants, circular diagrams that appear astrological, as well as seemingly biological images of female figures. It was rediscovered in the Jesuits’ Villa Mondragone near Rome in 1912 by a rare-book collector called Wilfrid Voynich, after whom it is named, and a letter attached to the manuscript gave the first clues. The letter was from the scholar and mathematician Johannes Marcus Marci in the seventeenth century, addressed to Athanasius Kircher, bequeathing the manuscript to him and pronouncing him the only one who would be able to unlock its text and enigmatic images. Attempts to piece together the chain of ownership have been made, beginning with this letter. The manuscript once belonged to Rudolf II, and the “bearer of the book” was given six hundred ducats by him. At one time historians believed that John Dee had owned it (as Diana saw when she visited Dee in Mortlake) and that he could have been the one to sell it to Rudolf. This theory is now contested, and the truth remains elusive. The signature of Rudolf’s botanist, Jacobus de Tepenecz, can be seen on the first folio under ultraviolet light. It is then clear that Georg Baresch, a little-known alchemist in Prague, possessed it and tried to obtain Athanasius Kircher’s help, sending letters to him in Rome in 1637 and again in 1639, perhaps including sample pages. But it wasn’t until after Baresch had passed the manuscript on to his friend Marci that it was sent in full to Kircher.

Even though Roger Bacon is cited as the possible author, evidence is murky about the true authorship. Scientific analysis of the vellum and ink has dated the book to the late fourteenth or fifteenth century. In the hundred years since its discovery, numerous academic experts have been unable to decipher it, and theories abound: Is it code or an entirely new, made-up language? Is it a forgery or a hoax? The wildly different interpretations say more about the people studying the book than about the book itself, proving nothing about the truth of its origin. Diana didn’t have time to worry about the authorship in her search for the Book of Life’s missing pages, but perhaps it is a mystery she will revisit.

See also: SCIENCE: Matthew de Clermont’s library of scientific works through the ages

Plays and Prose

TO MY DEARE LADIE AND SISTER, THE COUNTESSE OF PEMBROKE,

Here now have you (most deare, and most worthy to be most deare Lady) this idle worke of mine. . . . Read it then at your idle tymes, and the follyes your good judgement wil finde in it, blame not, but laugh at. And so, looking for no better stuffe, then, as in an Haberdashers shoppe, glasses, or feathers, you will continue to love the writer, who doth excedinglie love you; and most most hartelie praies you may long live, to be a principall ornament to the familie of the Sidneis.

Your loving Brother

Philip Sidnei

Title: The Countess of Pembroke’s Arcadia

Author: Philip Sidney (1554–86)

Background: Philip Sidney wrote much of the early draft of The Countess of Pembroke’s Arcadia in the 1570s while visiting his sister, Mary Sidney, the Countess of Pembroke, at her home. Many years later, in 1586, Philip was in the midst of making extensive revisions and additions to the book when he died from injuries suffered at the Battle of Zutphen. After his death his sister merged the older version with the newer Arcadia and oversaw William Ponsonby’s publication of the book in 1590.

Arcadia is a narrative romance told in parts, punctuated with poems. Written in the classical Greek dramatic style, it follows the intertwining narratives of noble princes and simple shepherds, enlivened with epic swordfights and jousts, political intrigue, attacks by wild animals, love, cross-dressing, and mistaken identities. The book enjoyed immense popularity in its time and is credited as one of the earliest successful English-language examples of the novel—that is, a book that is read for the sheer pleasure of the story. William Shakespeare borrowed from Arcadia for one of his subplots in King Lear, and England’s king Charles I is said to have quoted lines from it as he mounted the scaffold to his execution for treason in 1649.

Matthew gave Diana a copy of Arcadia for their first Christmas together. Diana had read it—and disliked it—when she was an undergraduate, but she marveled at the newness of her gift, fresh off William Ponsonby’s press in London in 1590. No word yet on whether she enjoyed Arcadia any more her second time through.

See also: CHARACTERS: William Ponsonby, Mary Sidney

From Scene I

Philosophy is odious and obscure;

Both law and physic are for petty wits;

Divinity is basest of the three,

Unpleasant, harsh, contemptible, and vile.

’Tis magic, magic that hath ravished me.

Scene VII

Faustus: Come on, Mephistophilis, what shall we do?

Meph: Nay, I know not. We shall be curs’d with bell, book, and candle.

Faustus: How! Bell, book, and candle,—candle, book, and bell,

Forward and backward to curse Faustus to hell.

Title: The Tragical History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus

Author: Christopher “Kit” Marlowe (1564–93)

Background: Marlowe wrote this play at the end of the sixteenth century, inspired by contemporary German legends about Johann George Faust, an unsavory alchemist. Marlowe also drew from events in his own life, perhaps incorporating the Widow Beaton’s test of Diana’s magic with a bell, a book, and a candle, for great dramatic effect.

The protagonist of Marlowe’s play is an ambitious and learned man, Doctor Faustus, who forges a pact with the devil. In Marlowe’s telling, Faustus summons a servant of the devil, an angel named Mephistopheles, and makes the angel an offer, pledging his soul to the devil in exchange for twenty-four years of magical powers and knowledge. The devil takes the deal. Faustus uses his new magical powers to amaze and trick others, tricks that include making antlers sprout from a man’s head, turning a horse into a heap of straw, and rendering himself invisible. As the play proceeds, Faustus fritters away his power on what are essentially parlor tricks as his death and damnation loom ever closer. He is increasingly fearful and, in his final moments, is consumed with regret as the devil takes him.

The play was published posthumously in 1604, eleven years after Marlowe’s death, but it was performed much earlier and enjoyed tremendous popular response. Among other tales that grew up around the play, audience members reported seeing real devils onstage, and there were accounts of people driven mad with fear after seeing the performance.

In order to timewalk from the present to 1590, Diana needed three items from the past to guide her. Along with Ysabeau’s earring and Matthew’s chess piece, she carried a holograph copy (a copy handwritten by its author) of Christopher Marlowe’s manuscript of Doctor Faustus. In it Marlowe had inscribed, “To my own sweet Matt. Whoever loved, that loved not at first sight?”

BARABAS

Hast thou no trade? Then listen to my words,

And I will teach [thee] that shall stick by thee:

First, be thou void of these affections,

Compassion, love, vain hope, and heartless fear;

Be mov’d at nothing, see though pity none,

But to thyself smile when the Christians moan.

Title: The Jew of Malta

Author: Christopher “Kit” Marlowe (1564–93)

Background: Marlowe wrote The Jew of Malta in 1589–90, around the same time Diana and Matthew visited London together. The first recorded performance was in 1592, and hundreds of years later it remains one of Marlowe’s most famous and influential plays. Diana owned a paperback copy, and when she first caught sight of Marlowe in 1590, she recognized him immediately from his image on her book’s cover.

The Jew of Malta is both a tragedy and a dark, irreverent comedy, its characters and plot twists exaggerated for satirical effect. The central conflict lies between a Jewish merchant named Barabas, the wealthiest man in Malta until his riches and home are unjustly seized, and a greedy Christian Turk, Governor Ferneze, who seizes Barabas’s property for tribute. Barabas proceeds to exact horrible and sometimes tragic revenge by attacking and betraying anyone who stands between him and his riches, even murdering his own daughter. In the end Barabas manages to turn the tables on Ferneze and briefly becomes governor of Malta himself, until the Maltese army turns on Barabas and kills him. The tragedies of the play include not only what Barabas does in the name of revenge but also what is done to Barnabas by the hypocritical Christian Ferneze. Indeed, both the brilliance of the work and a broad portion of its appeal lie in the way in which it can be read, satirizing either Christians or Jews, depending upon the prejudices and predilections of the audience. In an era when one’s status and even one’s survival depended upon one’s religious beliefs, The Jew of Malta spoke to the private struggles many Elizabethans faced. This included, of course, the iconoclastic members of the School of Night.

From Act IV, scene III:

FERDINAND

By heaven, thy love is black as ebony.

BIRON

Is ebony like her? O wood divine!

A wife of such wood were felicity.

O, who can give an oath? where is a book?

That I may swear beauty doth beauty lack,

If that she learn not of her eye to look:

No face is fair that is not full so black.

FERDINAND

O paradox! Black is the badge of hell,

The hue of dungeons and the school of night;

And beauty’s crest becomes the heavens well.

Title: Love’s Labour’s Lost

Author: William Shakespeare (1564–1616)

Background: This is one of Shakespeare’s earliest plays, written between 1593 and 1594, after he had moved to London (and while he was employing Annie Undercroft as a housemaid). Its first recorded performance was on Christmas of 1597, for Queen Elizabeth I. The play follows doomed efforts of the king of Navarre and three of his men to commit themselves entirely to scholarship and intellectual pursuits for three years. During that time they have pledged to subsist on very little sleep or food and to live entirely without the company of women. Predictably and comically, they fail in their efforts, and in very short order. The king falls in love with a princess, and his men fall in love with her three ladies-in-waiting. In the end they all agree to wait a year and a day before marrying in order to prove the steadfastness of their love. The play contains multiple allusions to prominent Frenchmen, which would have given it particular resonance for Elizabethan audiences. The characters of the king and his three men were clearly meant to represent—and ridicule—Henry of Navarre and three French generals. Likewise, Shakespeare’s reference to the School of Night is a dig at his rival, Kit Marlowe, Marlowe’s dark and gloomy verse, and the dangerous company he kept, including Matthew Roydon. Incidentally, Love’s Labour’s Lost contains the longest scene in all of Shakespeare’s plays (act 5, scene 2) and act 5 also has the single longest word in all his plays: honorificabilitudinitatibus, which is Latin for “the state of being able to achieve honors.”

Poetry and Verse

Of Adam’s first wife, Lilith, it is told

(The witch he loved before the gift of Eve,)

That, ere the snake’s, her sweet tongue could deceive,

And her enchanted hair was the first gold.

And still she sits, young while the earth is old,

And, subtly of herself contemplative,

Draws men to watch the bright web she can weave,

Till heart and body and life are in its hold.

The rose and poppy are her flowers; for where

Is he not found, O Lilith, whom shed scent

And soft-shed kisses and soft sleep shall snare?

Lo! as that youth’s eyes burned at thine, so went

Thy spell through him, and left his straight neck bent

And round his heart one strangling golden hair.

Title: “Body’s Beauty” (Lady Lilith)

Author: Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1828–82)

Background: Miriam and Marcus gave the name Lilith to the original witch ancestor they identified in their mitochondrial DNA study. This Lilith is the earliest female witch from whom modern-day witches could have descended. They chose the name in homage to the Lilith beloved of the Pre-Raphaelites, including Dante Gabriel Rossetti, author of “Body’s Beauty,” and as a tip of the hat to older legends about female monsters of the night.

The Pre-Raphaelites were a group of idealistic, romantic English artists from the mid-nineteenth century who sought to reform English painting from late Renaissance influences, which they deplored as artificial and overly fond of commonplace subjects. In contrast, Pre-Raphaelites adopted the use of strong, natural colors and lines, and biblical, medieval, and literary subjects for their art.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti was a founding member of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. He wrote “Body’s Beauty” to accompany and illuminate his painting Lady Lilith (1866–68), calling the two together a “picture-sonnet.” According to ancient Jewish myths, Lilith was the first wife of Adam and was formed from the earth, just as Adam was. She left Adam because she refused to be subservient to him and consequently became mythologized as a creature of the night. Over time Lilith came to be associated with crimes against men and children. In his picture-sonnet, Rossetti reminds his viewers about the generative and destructive powers of womankind, about which stories have been told since time immemorial.

See also: CREATURES: Daemons, Witches

Upon a great adventure he was bond,

That greatest Gloriana to him gave,

That greatest Glorious Queene of Faerie lond,

To winne him worship, and her grace to have,

Which of all earthly things he most did crave;

And ever as he rode, his hart did earne

To prove his puissance in battell brave

Upon his foe, and his new force to learne;

Upon his foe, a Dragon horrible and stearne. (from Book 1, Canto 1)

Title: The Faerie Queene

Author: Edmund Spenser (1552–99)

Background: An epic poem written by Edmund Spenser and published in two parts in 1590 and 1596, The Fairie Queene tells the tales of various Arthurian knights as they confront and prevail over a variety of temptations. In a letter to Walter Raleigh, Spenser explained that he intended to write a total of twenty-four books about King Arthur and the knights of the Round Table, each illustrating a different virtue; Spenser was able to complete only six books before his death in 1599.

These six volumes contemplated the virtues of Holiness, Temperance, Chastity, Friendship, Justice, and Courtesy. He hoped his poems would inspire and instruct his intended readers, primarily gentlemen and nobility, to live virtuous lives. Spenser, who had been a soldier along with Walter Raleigh in Ireland, wanted to earn a living from his writing, so he unabashedly sought the queen’s favor and patronage. Indeed, Elizabeth appears in various guises in the poem, including as Gloriana, the eponymous Fairie Queene. This appeal to her vanity seems to have worked, as the queen awarded Spenser the handsome sum of fifty pounds annually, though he later confessed privately that he would have liked a more sizable royal pension for his efforts.

Diana found The Fairie Queene a bit of a slog, and in this at least Kit Marlowe agreed with her. Marlowe blamed Walter Raleigh for meddling with Spenser’s tale and helping to turn the “perfectly enjoyable” story of King Arthur into “a calamitous blend of Malory and Virgil, [that] wends on and on, and Gloriana—please. The queen is nearly as old as Widow Beaton and just as crotchety.” Despite its faults, The Fairie Queene sealed Spenser’s success as a poet among both his contemporaries and students of literature hundreds of years after his death.

See also: CHARACTERS: William Ponsonby, Elizabeth Tudor

It lies not in our power to love or hate,

For will in us is overruled by fate.

When two are stripped, long ere the course begin

We wish that one should lose, the other win.

And one especially do we affect

Of two gold ingots like in each respect.

The reason no man knows; let it suffice

What we behold is censured by our eyes.

Where both deliberate, the love is slight:

Whoever loved that loved not at first sight?

Title: Hero and Leander

Author: Christopher “Kit” Marlowe (1564–93)

Background: Marlowe’s poem is a frisky tale of youthful tenacity and sensual love, the impassioned retelling of a much more ancient Greek myth of tragic, star-crossed lovers. In Marlowe’s story Hero and Leander are two impossibly beautiful young people living on opposite shores of a narrow sea who find themselves drawn together despite numerous obstacles. Hero is a beautiful acolyte of the goddess Venus who has sworn to remain a virgin; she lives in a tower on one shore. Leander, an equally beautiful man (Marlowe lingers lovingly on his physical charms), lived on the shore opposite her. But upon catching sight of Hero, Leander falls in love instantly. After some smooth talk, including the line that “the richest corn dies, if it not be reaped,” Hero decides to abandon her vow of chastity, having fallen in love with him, too. She invites Leander to come to her room under cover of night. That evening the intrepid Leander swims across the sea to meet Hero in her tower, only to be captured midway by a lovestruck Neptune. Leander nearly drowns but is released and finally arrives at her door, stark naked and dripping wet. Hero lets him in, and they make love. In the Greek myth, the couple dies at the end, but Marlowe himself died before he finished the poem, leaving his imagined duo very much in the delirious throes of love. Five years after Marlowe’s death, his friend George Chapman finished the poem, albeit in a more formal and considerably less sensual style than Marlowe’s. It was finally published in 1598.

Go, soul, the body’s guest,

Upon a thankless errand;

Fear not to touch the best;

The truth shall be thy warrant.

Go, since I needs must die,

And give the world the lie.

Say to the court, it glows

And shines like rotten wood;

Say to the church, it shows

What’s good, and doth no good.

If church and court reply,

Then give them both the lie. . . .

So when thou hast, as I

Commanded thee, done blabbing—

Although to give the lie

Deserves no less than stabbing—

Stab at thee he that will,

No stab the soul can kill.

Title: The Lie

Author: Anonymous. Sometimes attributed to Matthew Roydon or Walter Raleigh (c. 1554–1618)

Background: “The Lie” is an unsparing attack on the pillars of English society, including the courts, the church, the arts, the schools, rulers and “men of high condition,” as well as popularly esteemed values, including love, beauty, friendship, wit, and honor. Much of the power of the poem comes from the drumbeat repetition of the expression at the end of each stanza, “to give the lie.” This is an Elizabethan expression akin to “calling out” someone in order to excoriate, expose, and rebuke them. The author relentlessly exhorts his readers to recognize and denounce the hypocrisy that surrounds them, to lay bare the truth and give the lie to most of the institutions and beliefs that underpinned seventeenth-century society and culture: “Tell zeal it wants devotion; / Tell love it is but lust; / Tell time it meets but motion; / Tell flesh it is but dust / And wish them not reply, / For thou must give the lie.”

There has been a great deal of debate about whether Walter Raleigh wrote this poem, particularly since it came into popular circulation after his death in 1618. Certainly Raleigh had been intimately acquainted with many men and women of “high condition,” whether members of the church or the state, and had suffered sufficient disappointments and reversals of fortune to provide him with this sort of gimlet-eyed disillusionment. Readers of the All Souls trilogy know, however, that it was another member of Raleigh’s circle, Matthew Roydon, who penned these lines before 1590 and shared them with his closest confidants in the School of Night.

See also: CHARACTERS: Walter Raleigh, Matthew Roydon

Quan lo rius de la fontana (When the rill of the source)

“Ni muer ni viu ni no guaris,

Ni mal no·m sent e si l’ai gran,

Quar de s’amor no suy devis,

Ni no sai si ja n’aurai ni quan,

Qu’en lieys es tota le mercés

Que·m pot sorzer o decazer.”

Not dying nor living nor healing,

there is no pain in my sickness,

for I am not kept from her love.

I don’t know if I will ever have it,

for all the mercy that makes me flourish or decay

is in her power.*

Title: “Quan lo rius de la fontana”

Author: Philippe de Clermont (usually misattributed to Jaufre Rudel, c. 1125–c. 1147)

Background: We know from Matthew that “Quan lo rius de la fontana” is a lovely sung poem that Philippe wrote for Ysabeau in the mid-twelfth century, but Jaufre Rudel took the credit for it. Jaufre Rudel was a feudal lord, the Prince of Blaye, who ruled over lands in southwestern France. He was also a trobador, one of hundreds of singing poets of southern France who were respected and celebrated for their lyrical poetry and their beautiful melodies. Rudel is said to have fallen in love with the Countess of Tripoli, even though he had never met her. His love for her inspired many of his songs, including this one; indeed, chivalrous or courtly love, the adoration of an unnamed woman from afar, was the central theme of the trobadors’ songs. Rudel traveled to the Holy Land to fight in the Crusades, inspired by his love for the countess, but he fell ill upon arrival. The countess was summoned from Tripoli, and he died in her arms, thankful to have met her.

This song, “Quan lo rius de la fontana,” is sung in Occitan, the language of the Languedoc region of southern France. Like other trobador songs that have survived for hundreds of years, it conveys the exquisite pain of longing and love, the singer’s desire for union with an unnamed woman, and repeated expressions of devotion and restraint. Matthew sang this song to Diana the first time he brought her to Sept-Tours, when they were falling in love. The simplicity of its lyrics, along with the song’s ability to stir deep emotions, has made it irresistible to listeners, whether vampires, witches, or humans.

Old Mother Hubbard

Went to the cupboard,

To give the poor dog a bone;

When she came there,

The cupboard was bare,

And so the poor dog had none.

She went to the baker’s

To buy him some bread;

When she came back

The dog was dead!

She went to the undertaker’s

To buy him a coffin;

When she came back

The dog was laughing.

Jack be nimble,

Jack be quick,

Jack jump over

The candlestick.

Titles: “Old Mother Hubbard,” “Jack Be Nimble”

Author: Unknown

Background: These are nursery rhymes, singsong chants, or songs whose provenance is difficult to date due to their origins in European oral tradition. Some nursery rhymes might have originated in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, but many that are still sung today seem to have emerged several hundred years later, in the sixteenth century. In the past, as now, many of these rhymes were probably sung by mothers and young children. But there has been considerable speculation that these rhymes have darker, hidden meanings or were a form of popular protest and propaganda. Some lay anthropologists have proposed that nursery rhymes contain veiled references to political events, unpopular laws, death and disease, and even ritual sacrifices. For instance, there has been broad speculation that “Old Mother Hubbard” refers to Cardinal Wolsey’s unsuccessful attempt to get an annulment for King Henry VIII so he could marry Anne Boleyn. (Wolsey is Mother Hubbard, the Catholic Church is the cupboard, and Henry, of course, is the poor doggie). The stories behind “Jack Be Nimble” are only slightly less convoluted, imagining that this entertaining little rhyme about a playful boy is actually a reference to yellow fever and the belief that a lit candle would ward off disease (Jack is the yellow fever). Or alternatively that the rhyme refers to a pirate, Calico Jack, and his many escapes from justice, or that it is describing the folk practice of telling fortunes by leaping over a candle.

Perhaps these nursery rhymes are sly references to kings and pirates. Or perhaps they are lighthearted songs and stories that generations of mothers and fathers have told their children about the vampires of London, including Andrew Hubbard and Jack Blackfriars, who have lived there among humans and other creatures for hundreds of years.

EVE SPEAKS TO ADAM:

With thee conversing I forget all time;

All seasons, and their change, all please alike.

Sweet is the breath of Morn, her rising sweet,

With charm of earliest birds: pleasant the sun,

When first on this delightful land he spreads

His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower,

Glistering with dew; fragrant the fertile earth

After soft showers; and sweet the coming on

Of grateful Evening mild; then silent Night

With this her solemn bird and this fair moon,

And these the gems of Heaven, her starry train:

But neither breath of Morn when she ascends

With charm of earliest birds; nor rising sun

On this delightful land, nor herb, fruit, flower,

Glistering with dew; nor fragrance after showers;

Nor grateful Evening mild; nor silent Night

With this her solemn bird; nor walk by moon,

Or glittering star-light without thee is sweet.

Title: Paradise Lost

Author: John Milton (1608–74)

Background: Matthew quoted this first line from Paradise Lost to Diana after she had prepared dinner for him and they were relaxing with glasses of wine, exchanging some of their earliest, tentative confidences. (For her part, Diana quoted Ben Jonson to Matthew.) The line Matthew chose from Paradise Lost (“With thee conversing I forget all time”) recalls all the most tender beauties of nature, from early sunlight and birdsong to glimmering starlight, and ends with the deeply romantic line that none of these things “without thee is sweet.” If not a declaration of love exactly, it certainly suggested that Matthew had begun to enjoy Diana’s company a great deal.

Paradise Lost was John Milton’s magnum opus, an epic poem done in blank, or nonrhyming, verse. Many critics believe it rivals Shakespeare’s work for literary skill and import. Its subject is the book of Genesis; it imagines and retells the private story of Adam and Eve, their creation and fall from the Garden of Eden. The poem was first published in England in 1667, when Milton was nearly sixty. Milton had spent his life writing pamphlets that criticized prevailing political and cultural forces, including the Anglican Church and the monarchy. By 1667 Milton had suffered a succession of tragedies, including the recent deaths of his second wife and child, the reduction of his sight and finally total blindness, and a severe diminution of his income to near pennilessness. He had dictated his poem to a series of secretaries, regarding it as his attempt, he explained in Book 1, “to justify the ways of God to men.” It is ultimately a hopeful retelling of Genesis; despite Adam and Eve’s having succumbed to the wiles of Satan because of their own weaknesses, Milton describes a difficult but triumphant future for this first couple and, through them, for all humanity.

Tyger Tyger, burning bright,

In the forests of the night;

What immortal hand or eye,

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies.

Burnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What the hand, dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,

Could twist the sinews of thy heart?

And when thy heart began to beat,

What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain,

In what furnace was thy brain?

What the anvil? what dread grasp,

Dare its deadly terrors clasp!

When the stars threw down their spears

And water’d heaven with their tears:

Did he smile his work to see?

Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger Tyger burning bright,

In the forests of the night:

What immortal hand or eye,

Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

Title: “The Tyger”

Author: William Blake (1757–1827)

Background: “The Tyger” is an engraved, illustrated poem that marvels at the ferocity of the tiger and the wondrous mechanics of its creation. Published by William Blake in 1794, “The Tyger” is the companion to another poem, “The Lamb”; the two poems, along with others, appeared in a volume of his poetry titled Songs of Innocence and of Experience, Shewing the Two Contrary States of the Human Soul, published in 1789. In this volume Blake sought to capture the complex entirety of the human experience. Instead of a simplistic, binary juxtaposition of opposites (good versus evil, innocence versus experience), Blake contemplated the shared connections and coexistence among many seemingly contrary states and beings. He reminded his readers that the same immortal being had formed both of them: “Did he smile his work to see? / Did he who made the Lamb make thee?”

Unsurprisingly, this most famous of Blake’s poems, “The Tyger,” reminds Hamish of his best friend, Matthew Clairmont. Like the tiger in Blake’s poem, Matthew possesses a terrifying lethality and beauty. He, too, is part of a greater community of beings and a single expression of the diversity of creatures. In the All Souls trilogy, we learn more about the multitudes contained within Matthew, who is simultaneously scientist, vampire, warrior, spy, prince, and assassin. We also discover that the vast diversity of creatures—including witches, daemons, vampires, humans, and Bright Born—spring from common ancestors, despite their apparent differences.

Dedication:

TO MY DEAR AND MOST WORTHY FRIEND

MASTER MATTHEW ROYDON.

It is an exceeding rapture of delight in the deep search of knowledge (none knoweth

better than thyself, sweet Matthew) that maketh men manfully indure the extremes

incident to that Herculean labour . . .

By the true admirer of thy virtues and perfectly vowed friend,

G. CHAPMAN.

Title: The Shadow of Night

Author: George Chapman (c. 1559–1634)

Background: Chapman dedicated this poem to his dear friend Matthew Roydon, one of the few times the mysterious Mr. Roydon is mentioned in the public historical record. The poem, published by William Ponsonby in 1594, celebrates the intellectual achievements of deep thinkers who work under cover of night, and it sorely laments that most people do not appreciate the art and insights of those thinkers. Chapman observes that the ordinary business of daily life tires most men and distracts them from any meaningful learning and art. He then pays homage to the salutary effects of the shadowy night: “No pen can anything eternal write, / that is not steep’d in humor of the night. . . .” And he returns again and again to his theme, that only the night can provide relief from the drudgery and trivialities of the day and allow poets and thinkers to engage in valuable introspection that could uplift public virtue, if only the public would pay attention. Chapman makes it clear in his dedication, however, that he counts his “sweet Matthew” among those who labor productively under the shadow of night. Chapman’s poem and dedication—together with his known connection to other scientists, writers, and philosophers like Thomas Harriot, Christopher Marlowe, Henry Percy, the Earl of Northumberland, and Sir Walter Raleigh—led some historians to call this group of radical thinkers “the School of Night.”

See also: CHARACTERS: George Chapman, William Ponsonby

For storms will rage and oceans roar

When Gabriel stands on sea and shore

And as he blows his wondrous horn

Old worlds die and new be born. . . .

And those that live will ever fear

The dragon’s tail for many year

But time erases memory

You think it strange. But it will be.

And before the race is built anew

A silver serpent comes to view

And spew out men of like unknown

To mingle with the earth now grown

Cold from its heat and these men can

Enlighten the minds of future man.

To intermingle and show them how

To live and love and thus endow

The children with the second sight.

A natural thing so that they might

Grow graceful, humble and when they do

The Golden Age will start anew.

Title: Mother Shipton’s Prophesies

Author: Ursula Soothtell (c. 1488–1561)

Background: Mother Shipton, born Ursula Soothtell, lived in England in the middle of the fifteenth century. A number of her contemporaries praised her abilities as a seer and a prophet with extraordinary powers to describe future events. For instance, she predicted the deaths of prominent figures, including Cardinal Wolsey, with astonishing accuracy. Her story has been passed down to us through the oral tradition among witches, as well as from scattered references to her from human observers, including the English diarist Samuel Pepys, who mentioned her predictions regarding the Great Fire in London in 1666. Mother Shipton’s Prophesies were first published in 1641, nearly a century after she died, and for the next several centuries her prophecies were reissued (and, suspiciously, they were often updated with new predictions).

Over time descriptions of Soothtell grew increasingly hideous, as she began to appear with a caricatured hooked nose and gnarled body. Later editions of her prophecies began to include predictions of the end of the world, complete with dates, which have come and gone without incident, most recently in 1991. As with many stories about creatures, there was a kernel of truth wrapped in layers of misdirection and prejudice.

Mother Shipton was a powerful witch and seer in her community, who predicted the union of the dragon and the serpent— Matthew and Diana—and that their children would help to usher in a golden age. Eventually, however, various charlatans began to profit from her fabled accuracy by publishing and selling fearful prophecies alleged to have been written by her. For readers of the All Souls trilogy, most of our reliable information about Mother Shipton has been handed down by witches like Goody Alsop, who was apprenticed to Mother Shipton, as well as Tamsin Soothtell, from the present-day coven in London, who is one of her direct descendants.

Yesterday, a hundred thousand of us were select warriors,

They were all good, choice men with green bucklers,

And they were such among those not fearing thousands.

Not thousands, nor tens of thousands, nor however many met them.

A small child appeared, up high on a wild mountain . . .

A beautiful sword he drew from his silver sheath . . .

From the wings, the wings he struck and the middle was wasted,

By the lord, the sweet sun, by his sweet mother,

All day us he struck upstream,

And all night us he struck downstream,

He charged and he charged and he charged us again, and not one does he spare.*

Title: The Song of Armouris

Author: Unknown

Background: The Song of Armouris is a heroic account of the Byzantine people who lived on the eastern borders of Byzantium, in what is now Turkey and Syria, in the ninth, tenth, and eleventh centuries. These people of the frontier, known as the Akrites, were frequently involved in border skirmishes with Arab soldiers. Kidnappings, injuries, and the constant threat of violence hung over their families and communities. Songs and legends sprang up out of that border conflict, and The Song of Armouris is one of the earliest examples of that literature.

Two similar versions of The Song survive, one from 1461 and the other from sometime in the fifteenth or sixteenth century, indicating that this was a very popular story among the Akrites. Both versions are written in blank verse in medieval Greek and probably were taken down from a much earlier oral ballad. Only a couple hundred lines of the story have survived, but they tell an entrancing tale of a young boy called Arestis whose father, Armouris, was captured and imprisoned in Syria by Saracens. After young Arestis passes a series of tests of his skills set by his mother, the boy departs on his father’s horse, which has been mourning his rider for years. The young man announces his arrival to thousands of armed soldiers. He then kills every single soldier, except one whom he pursues for days. Arestis eventually cuts off the soldier’s hand and allows him to escape to tell the emir what has transpired. Upon learning of this feat, the emir sets the father, Armouris, free, and offers his own daughter in marriage to Arestis.

Modern scholars believe that this song might have been based upon actual events in the Byzantine-Arab conflict—namely, those surrounding the Battle of Lalakaon, in which the one-handed emir, Umar Al-Aqta (Umar with the one hand), died in 863. Philippe and Ysabeau are extraordinarily fond of this story, doubtless for its direct, simple language and lively, engaging characters and plot. And because they are very old vampires, it is possible that they have intimate acquaintance with some of the figures and events of the song. For Philippe and Ysabeau, The Song of Armouris may be a sentimental reminder of their youth, before their family responsibilities grew so weighty.

Verses by Matthew Roydon from Gonçalves Manuscript 4890 or English commonplace book

Translations

à bientôt (French) good-bye, see you soon

adieu (French) good-bye

aital aital (Occitan) so-so

à la tienne (French) cheers

alfajores (Spanish/Iberian) cookies made of honey, nuts, flour, and spices

alhamdulillah (Arabic) Thank God

Al rebèire. Mèfi (Occitan) Good-bye. Take care.

alukah (Hebrew) vampire (literally, a leech)

a ma vie de coer entire (Old French) my whole heart for my whole life

Ars longa, vita brevis. Occasio praeceps, experimentum periculosum, iudicium difficile. (Latin) Art is long, but life is short. Opportunity is fleeting, experiment dangerous, and judgment difficult.

Atta (Greek) Father

Begone, fantôme. (French) Begone, ghost.

Beniamin lupus rapax mane comedet praedam et vespere dividet spolia. Benjamin est un loup qui déchire; au matin il dévore la proie, et sur le soir il partage le butin. (Latin/French) Benjamin shall raven as a wolf: in the morning he shall devour the prey, and at night he shall divide the spoil.

Benvegnùa, madame. (Occitan) Welcome, lady.

bereishit (Hebrew) in the beginning, genesis

bien sûr (French) of course

bife (Portuguese slang) beefsteak

bonjour (French) hello

bonne chance (French) good luck

Bringen das Buch. Und die Hexe. (German) Bring the book. And the witch.

buona fortuna (Italian) good luck

café (Spanish) coffee

cameriera (Italian) waitress

“Carmina qui quondam studio florente peregi, / Flebilis heu maestos cogor inire modos.” (Latin, Boethius) “To pleasant songs my work was once given, and bright were all my labors then; / But now in tears to sad refrains I must return.”

ça suffit (French) that’s enough

ce qui explique tout (French) that which explains everything

chatoiement (French) shimmer

Chut! Plus de bruit, / C’est la ronde de nuit, / En diligence, faisons silence. / Marchons sans bruit, / C’est la ronde de nuit. (French) Hush! No more noise, / This is the Night Watch, / In diligence, let’s be silent. / Walk quietly, This is the Night Watch.

Commencez. (French) Begin.

Comment sont faites les dāēōs? (French) How are daemons made?

compreni (Occitan) I understand

conceptio (Latin) conception

conjunctio (Latin) marriage

Cossí anatz? (Occitan) How are you?

d’accordo (Italian) certainly

Decet eum qui dat, non meminisse beneficii: eum vero, qui accipit, intueri non tam munus quam dantis animum. (Latin) It becomes him who gives not to remember the favor: but it becomes she who receives not to look upon the gift as much as the soul of the giver.

Den tha ekpaidéfsoun gynaíkes sto méllon? (Greek) Don’t they educate women in the future?

Der Mond ist aufgegangen, / Die goldnen Sternlein prangen / Am Himmel hell und klar. (German) The moon has risen, / The golden stars shine / In the sky bright and clear.

Dicunt mihi vos es philologus. (Latin) They told me you are a scholar.

Dieu (French) God

Elle a plus de courage que j’ai pensé. (French) She has more courage than I thought.

Elle est enchantée. (French) She is bewitched.

Elle est une puissante sorcière. (French) She is a powerful witch.

Éminence (French, honorific) Your Eminence

encantada (Spanish) delighted

Estoy muy ocupada. (Spanish) I am very busy.

Es una lástima que se casó en absoluto, pero aún más lamentable que ella está casada con usted. (Spanish) It’s a pity she married at all, but even more unfortunate that she is married to you.

Et je le reçois. (French) And I receive it.

Et je le reçois, avec joie. (French) And I receive it, with joy.

et moi (French) and me

Fallaces sunt rerum species. (Latin) Appearances can be deceiving.

fileuse de temps (French) timewalker, literally “time spinner”

Gab es einen anderen Tod? (German) Was there another death?

glaem (Old English) gleam, shimmer

gracias (Spanish) thank you

gratias tibi ago (Latin) thank you

grande guimbarde (French) large rattletrap, jalopy

grand-mère (French) grandmother hein (French slang) eh

Honor virtutis praemium. (Latin) Esteem is the reward of virtue. (This is the Shirley family motto, later adopted by the Arnold School, England.)

Ich bin Lobero. Ich will euch aus den Schatten der Nacht zu schützen. (German) I am Lobero. I want to protect you from the Shadows of the Night.

Ich verspreche Sie werden nicht hungern. Ich halte euch zufrieden. Rudolff. (German) I promise you will not go hungry. I’ll keep you satisfied. Rudolff.

Il est le chevalier de Clermont! (French) It is the Chevalier (Knight) de Clermont!

Immensi tremor oceani. (Latin) The trembling of the immense ocean. (The motto of the Order of St. Michael, the patron saint of Mont Saint-Michel, a French chivalric order founded in 1496 by King Louis XI.)

Impossible n’est pas Diana. (French) Impossible is not Diana.

Impossible n’est pas français. (French) Impossible is not French.

Incipit tractatus Aurora Consurgens intitulatus. (Latin) Here begins the treatise called The Rising of the Dawn.

Introite. (Latin) Enter.

Ist das Matthäus höre ich? (German) Is that Matthew I hear?

Je, Diana, donne mon corps à toi, Matthew. (French) I, Diana, give my body to you, Matthew.

Je, Matthew, donne mon corps à toi, Diana, en loyal mariage. (French) I, Matthew, give my body to you, Diana, in faithful matrimony.

Je suis à votre commande, seigneur. (French) I am at your command, sir.

Je suis désolé. (French) I am sorry.

Je vais. (French) I am going to.

Kakó gati! (Occitan) Bad cat!

khaire (Greek) welcome/farewell

Khairete, Matthaios kai Diana. (Greek, plural form) Welcome/Farewell, Matthew and Diana.

Khamsa fi ainek. (Arabic, charm to ward off the evil eye) Five fingers in your eye.

Lacrimosa dies illa. (Latin) Tearful will be that day.

La Diosa de la Caza (Spanish) The Goddess of the Chase

la lionne (French) the lioness

La robe est belle. (French) The dress is beautiful.

La sorcière est morte. (French) The witch is dead.

Libri Personae (Latin) The People of the Book

lobero (Spanish) wolfhound

Loquerisne latine? (Latin) Do you speak Latin?

Maintenant! (French) Now!

Mais il est debout. (French) But he is standing.

Maman (French) Mama

masca (Occitan) witch

manjasang (Occitan) vampire, literally blood-eater

Maria Deu maire (Occitan) Mary Mother of God

más basura (Spanish) more trash

ma vaillante fille (French) my brave girl

Mea lingua latina est mala. (Latin) My Latin is poor.

mercés (Occitan) thank you

Mercés amb tot meu còr. (Occitan) Thank you with all my heart.

Merci, ma petite. (French) Thank you, my little one.

merde (French) shit

meus liber (Occitan) my book

Milás elliniká? (Greek) Does she speak Greek?

Militie Lazari a Bethania (Latin) The Knights of Lazarus of Bethany

Milord encore. (French) My lord again.

Milord est lui-même. (French) Milord is himself.

mon cher (French) my dear

mon coeur (French) my heart

mon debut et ma fin (French) my beginning and my end

nachzehrer (German) vampire, devourer of the dead (literally, after living off)

N’importe quel prix. (French) The price doesn’t matter.

Ni muer ni viu ni no guaris, / Ni mal no·m sent e si l’ai gran, / Quar de s’amor no suy devis, / Ni no sai si ja n’aurai ni quan, / Qu’en lieys es tota le mercés / Que·m pot sorzer o decazer. (Occitan) Not dying nor living nor healing. / There is no pain in my sickness, / For I am not kept from her love. / I don’t know if I will ever have it, / For all the mercy that makes me flourish or decay is in her power.

Noli me tangere. (Latin) Touch me not.

Nous sommes prêts, Père Antoine! (French) We’re ready, Father Antoine!

N. VALLIN ME FECIT, T. HARRIOT ME INVENIT, 1591. (Latin) N. Vallin made me, T. Harriot invented me, 1591.

òc (Occitan) yes

Omni fine initium nºvum. (Latin) In every ending there is a new beginning. (Philippe de Clermont, but often attributed to Seneca)

Omnia nodis arcanis connexa quiescunt. (Latin) All things are at rest, connected by secret knots, or They all wait silently, connected by secret knots.

oui (French) yes

Parlez-vous français, madame? (French) Do you speak French, madame?

Prenez garde, madame. (French) Beware, madame.

prima materia (Latin) first matter

querida diosa (Spanish) dear goddess

reconquista (Spanish) the reconquest (when Christians took back the Iberian peninsula from the Muslim warriors who had claimed it in the eighth century)

Refero mihi in latine, quaeso. (Latin) Answer me in Latin, please.

Reverende et Eximie Domine in Christo Pater (Latin) Reverend Father in Christ Lord.

salaud (French) bastard

sas efharisto (Greek) thank you

schaduw (Dutch) shadow

Schatz (German, term of endearment) treasure

secretum Lazari (Latin) the secret of Lazarus

sedete (Latin) sit

seigneur (French) sire

semper eadem (Latin) always the same

Se souvenir du passe, et qu’il-y-a un avenir. (French) Remember the past, and that there is a future.

Sic transit gloria mundi. (Latin) Thus passes the glory of the world.

Sieur (French) Sire, the honorific for the head of a vampire clan.

Sim, Miriam. Tudo bem contigo? (Portuguese) Yes, Miriam. You all right?

sorcière (French) witch

T’afortissi (Occitan/Catalan) I promise you.

Ta gueule. (French) Shut up.

Tamen mea lingua graeca est peior. (Greek) My Greek is also poor.

Te absolvo. (Latin) I forgive you.

tempestarii (Latin) weather maker

Und sie das Buch und die Hexe gebracht, ich verstehe. Und die norwegische Wolf. (German) And you brought the book and the witch, I understand. And the Norwegian wolf.

Un pour tous, tous pour un. (French) One for all, all for one.

Vanitatis vanitatum, omnis vanitas. (Latin) Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.

Va plan, mercés. E tu? (Occitan) It was good, thanks. And you?

Video et taceo. (Latin) I see and am silent.

vite (French) quick

Vòles dançar amb ieu? (Occitan) Do you want to dance with me?

Vos etz arbres e branca / On fruitz de gaug s’asazona. (Occitan) You are the roots and branches / Where the fruits of delight ripen.

Vous avez bien fait. (French) You did well.

wearh (Old English) vampire

Wölfling (German) little wolf

Y su talento para los juegos también. (Spanish) And his talent for games also.

Wider Reading and All Souls Resources

A Discovery of Witches

Magic and Science

Here are some reading suggestions for those whose curiosity has been stirred up by the story of Diana Bishop, Matthew Clairmont, and the hunt for the missing alchemical manuscript Ashmole 782. All the titles here are nonfiction and inspired some aspect of A Discovery of Witches.

Elias Ashmole, Theatrum Chemicum Brittanicum. Don’t be put off by the Latin title. This is a collection of English alchemical texts that were gathered by Elias Ashmole. The missing alchemical manuscript that Diana finds in the Bodleian Library is not among them, alas, but if you’re interested in the subject, this is a fascinating glimpse into the mysterious texts she studies as a historian.

Janet Browne, Darwin’s Origin of Species: Books That Changed the World. Browne is not only a great scholar but a superb writer. A highly regarded biographer of Darwin, here she turns her talents to writing a biography of his most famous book—and one of Matthew Clairmont’s favorites as well.

Owen Davies, Grimoires: A History of Magic Books. If you’re interested in the history of magic and witchcraft, Davies’s description of the development of magical spellbooks will provide insights into how ideas about magic, science, and nature developed over the centuries.

Carol Karlsen, The Devil in the Shape of a Woman: Witchcraft in Colonial New England. Diana Bishop is descended from a long line of witches. You will find out more about some of those witches—the Bishops and the Proctors—while reading this classic interpretation of what happened in Salem in 1692.

Robert Kehew, Ezra Pound, and W. D. Snodgrass, Lark in the Morning: The Verses of the Troubadours. Matthew is a very old vampire, who has slightly old-fashioned views on love and romance. You might be surprised at the love poetry of his early life and come away with a whole new appreciation for “old-fashioned.”

Bruce Moran’s Distilling Knowledge: Alchemy, Chemistry, and the Scientific Revolution. This marvelous book is not only deeply learned but extremely readable. Touched with Moran’s sense of humor and his compassion for his subject’s tireless efforts to understand the natural world, this book will give you a broader understanding of the alchemists.

Alexander Roob, Alchemy and Mysticism. Diana Bishop is an expert on the enigmatic imagery that is used in alchemical texts. Many are included in Roob’s book, along with other illustrations from mystical and magical traditions.

Lyndal Roper, Witch Craze: Terror and Fantasy in Baroque Germany. This scholarly book was important to me as I wrote A Discovery of Witches because it helped me understand how the belief in witches influenced the imagination. Many of our notions about witchcraft today have their roots in these terrifying fantasies.

James Sharpe, Instruments of Darkness: Witchcraft in Early Modern England. Sharpe’s book is an ideal starting point if you’re interested in the history of witchcraft beyond Salem or Germany. One of his most controversial arguments focuses on the role that women played as accusers—not just as victims—in the witchcraft trials.

Bryan Sykes, The Seven Daughters of Eve: The Science That Reveals Our Genetic Ancestry. I was fascinated by the combination of history, genealogy, and science in Sykes’s work. The book provides an introduction to the study of genetics and to the legacies that are carried from generation to generation among the population.

Shadow of Night

The 1590s

If you’re interested in learning more about the 1590s, here are some recommended titles:

Janet Arnold, Queen Elizabeth’s Wardrobe Unlock’d. A sumptuous glimpse into female fashion of the time through the lens of the queen’s wardrobe accounts and a careful examination of contemporary depictions and material remains.

Robert Hutchinson, Elizabeth’s Spymaster. An introduction to the dangerous world of subterfuge and intrigue that was the Elizabethan secret service.

Brian Levack, The Witch Hunt in Early Modern Europe. A lucid yet scholarly introduction to the witch-hunts between 1450 and 1700.

Ninya Mikhaila and Jane Malcolm-Davies, The Tudor Tailor: Reconstructing Sixteenth-Century Dress. Insights into the construction of period clothing, with suggestions for how to make your own garments.

Liza Picard, Elizabeth’s London. An informative overview of the city, its people, and the main events of the period.

Francine Segan, Shakespeare’s Kitchen: Renaissance Recipes for the Contemporary Cook. You could read an Elizabethan cookbook, but Segan’s book updates ingredients, measurements, and cooking methods to fit modern kitchens.

John Stow, A Survey of London. Historian John Stow (c. 1525–April 6, 1605) compiled this contemporary account of the city, its customs, and notable landmarks.

The Book of Life

The final volume in the All Souls trilogy develops many subjects—history, alchemy, genetics—that are introduced in A Discovery of Witches and Shadow of Night.

The history of the Voynich manuscript is as tangled and complex as its contents are marvelous and mysterious. A facsimile of this Yale University manuscript is now available, with essays by leading scholars on a variety of subjects. See Raymond Clemens, ed. The Voynich Manuscript.

For more information on Jesuit polymath Athanasius Kircher, see Daniel Stoltzenberg’s Egyptian Oedipus: Athanasius Kircher and the Secrets of Antiquity.

An excellent overview of the Ripley scrolls and their alchemical meaning is available for download online: Aaron Kitch, “The Ingendred Stone: The Ripley Scrolls and the Generative Science of Alchemy,” Huntington Library Quarterly (2015), www.docfoc.com/kitch-the-ingendred-stone-the-ripley-scrolls-science-of-alchemy-RADU.

If you’re interested in why Diana Bishop had the birth-room experience she did in the book, take a look at this edition of Jane Sharp’s The Midwives Book: Or the Whole Art of Midwifry Discovered (1671), edited and with an introduction by Elaine Hobby.

Yale’s Beinecke Library, like the Bodleian, is a treasure trove for book lovers. A peek into that magical world can be found in Kathryn James, An Inspiration to All Who Enter: Fifty Works from Yale University’s Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library.

Be sure to check Deborah Harkness’s website at deborahharkness.com for more resources, updates, and fan material.

Acknowledgments

Writing The World of All Souls has been a labor of love for the whole team. As with all collaborative labors, there are many people to thank who have helped us to realize our dream.

The team would like first to thank Chris Russell, Emily Wunderlich, Francesca Belanger, and the All Souls family at Viking and Penguin for the hard work they put into this beautiful volume, as well as the team at Headline in the UK (especially Mari Evans, Caitlin Raynor, and Vicky Palmer). We are also, and always, indebted to Sam Stoloff for his tireless efforts on the book’s behalf and for believing in the project when it was nothing more than a crazy idea.

Claire Baldwin would like to thank her fellow contributors Jill, Lisa, and Colleen for working so well together on the book—and for having so much fun while doing so! As for Deb, Claire sends huge thanks for appointing her as team leader for the project, and for continuing to share the All Souls journey with her.

Colleen Madden would like to acknowledge and shout crazy admiration and love for the three men in her life, as well as Claire and her fellow authors. Colleen acknowledges it has been a wild ride, and would love to do it again—but not right away!

Lisa Halttunen is grateful for once more being invited to join the amazing voyage of the good ship “All Souls.” Thanks also goes to her fellow team members, who made this part of the journey such a pleasure; and to her sister, Karen, and dear friend Leonardo for their encouragement.

Jill Hough would like thank her co-conspirators for being both inspiring and all-around good people. She is grateful, as always, for her family, Paul, Zoe, and Mia, and for their unflagging support and patience with her divided attention while this book was written. Last but not least she would like to thank Deb for discovering the marvelous world of All Souls and its creatures (particularly Gallowglass) and for sharing them (especially Gallowglass).

As for Deb, she is indebted to all of those mentioned previously—without whose support nothing would have ever been committed to paper. She would like to especially thank Claire for her unflagging enthusiasm and support; Colleen for her inspiring images; Lisa for always being able to put her hands on the missing information and the correct grammar; and Jill for understanding just how rich and complex the world of All Souls really is. Deb would also like to acknowledge the support of her family who have taken on the further adventures of the Bishops and de Clermonts with grace and understanding, especially Karen and Baxter, in spite of the fact that these imaginary friends absorb a lot of her time and attention.

Finally, we are—all of us—constantly amazed and awed by the devotion of the readers to this series. It is to the All Souls trilogy’s loyal readers, each and every one of you, that this book is dedicated.

About the Author

DEBORAH HARKNESS is the number one New York Times bestselling author of A Discovery of Witches, Shadow of Night, and The Book of Life. A history professor at the University of Southern California, Harkness has received Fulbright, Guggenheim, and National Humanities Center fellowships.

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*Mark Collins Jenkins, Vampire Forensics: Uncovering the Origins of an Enduring Legend (National Geographic Books, 2010).

*Robert Graves and Raphael Patai, Hebrew Myths: The Book of Genesis (New York: Random House, 1986), 65–69.

*Mary Schons, “Witch Trials in the 21st Century,” National Geographic, Jan. 21, 2011, http://education.nationalgeographic.org/news/witch-trials-21st-century.

*Quote from Sir Thomas Bodley, recorded in The General Biographical Dictionary, edited by Alexander Chalmers (London, 1812).

*Owen Davies, Grimoires: A History of Magic Books (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009), p. 1.

*Alexander Roob, Alchemy & Mysticism (Cologne: Taschen, 2005), 129.

*www.youtube.com/watch?v=EbmhpNaVtts.

*Deborah Harkness, “A View from the Streets: Women and Medical Work in Elizabethan London,” Bulletin of the History of Medicine 82, no. 1 (Spring 2008): 52–85.

*A. A. Benson, “The Ocean Has Its Bezoar, Too: In Aquaculture—Public Health, Regulatory and Management Aspects,” Proceedings of the 6th U.S. Food and Drug Administration Science Symposium on Aquaculture, February 12–14, 1980, New Orleans, 1982 (College Station: Marine Information Service, Sea Grant College Program, Texas A&M University), http://texasseagrant.org/assets/uploads/publications/1982/82–119.pdf, pp. 63–70.

*Thoinot Arbeau, Orchesography, trans. Mary Stewart Evans (New York: Dover, 1967), 12.

*Deborah Harkness, The Book of Life, 469.

*Salomon Trismosin, Splendor Solis: Alchemical Treatises of Salomon Trismosin, Adept and Teacher of Paracelsus (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner, Broadway House, 1920).

*Aaron Kitch, “Notes and Documents: The ‘Ingendred’ Stone: The Ripley Scrolls and the Generative Science of Alchemy,” Huntington Library Quarterly 78, no. 1: 87–126.

*Homeric Hymns, no. 27, “To Artemis,” lines 1–20 trans. Hugh G. Evelyn-White (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1914).

*John Keats, Endymion, The Poetical Works of John Keats (1884). Incidentally, this poem is also the source of the much-repeated line “A thing of beauty is a joy forever.”

*Seneca, Tragedies, trans. Frank Justus Miller (Cambridge, MA: Loeb Classical Library, Harvard University Press, 1917). In Hercules furens, Seneca tells the story of how Juno brings a madness upon Hercules and causes him to slaughter his wife and children.

*Hesiod, Theogony, lines 240ff., trans. Hugh Evelyn-White (London: William Heinemann, 1922).

*Invocation to the heroes from Catullus 64.1–30, trans. Gutchess (www.englishare.net/literature/POL-HS-Peleus-Thetis.htm), 2001.

*Homer, Iliad, trans. Robert Fagles (New York: Penguin, 1990).

*Homer, Odyssey, trans. Robert Fitzgerald (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 1974).

*From “Völuspá,” a poem collected in the thirteenth-century Poetic Edda.

*Benjamin Thorpe’s translation of the Poetic Edda poem “Grímnismál,” trans. Benjamin Thorpe, in Edda Saemundar Hinns Frôða: The Edda of Saemund the Learned, part 1 (London: Trübner, 1907).

*Montague Summers, The Discovery of Witches. A study of Master Matthew Hopkins, commonly call’d Witch Finder Generall . . . Together with a reprint of The Discovery of Witches from the rare original of 1647 (London, 1928).

*Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy, trans. Victor Watts (New York: Penguin, 1969).

*Marsilio Ficino, The Book of Life, trans. Charles Boer (Washington, DC: Spring Publications, 1980).

*Isidore of Seville, Etymologiae, trans. Ernest Brehaut, translated quote from the Etymologiae featured in Ernest Brehaut’s An Encyclopedist of the Dark Ages (New York: Columbia University, 1912).

*Johannes Reuchlin, On the Art of the Kabbalah—De arte cabbalistica, trans. Martin and Sarah Goodman (Lincoln, NB: University of Nebraska Press, 1993), 39.

*Gregory of Tours, History of the Franks, trans. Lewis Thorpe (New York: Penguin, 1974).

*A Booke of Christian Prayers or Queen Elizabeth’s Prayer Book (www.lambethpalacelibrary.org/content/elizabethprayerbook, 2015).

*Giambattista della Porta, Natural Magic (London: printed for Thomas Young and Samual Speed at the Three Pigeons and at the Angel in St. Paul’s Churchyard, 1658).

*Heinrich Kramer and James Sprenger, The Malleus Maleficarum, trans. Montague Summers (first published in 1928; London: Arrow, 1971).

*Arthanasius Kircher, Magnes, sive de Arte Magnetica (Rome: apud lodocum Kalcoven, 1641).

*Giordano Bruno, The Heroic Frenzies, trans. Paul Eugene Memmo (Chapel Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press, 1964).

*Quote from title of original pamphlet: http://quod.lib.umich.edu/e/eebo/A13085.0001.001/1:2?rgn=div1;view=fulltext.

*Original letter as reproduced in the Voynich manuscript, Gerry Kennedy and Rob Churchill (London: Orion, 2004).

*As quoted in A Discovery of Witches, Deborah Harkness. See also: Robert Kehew, Ezra Pound, and W. D. Snodgrass, Lark in the Morning: The Verses of the Troubadours (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2005).

*The Song of Armouris, trans. Guy Smoot, ‘Άσμα τοû Άρμούρη: The Song of Armouris—Translation and Commentary’ (www.academia.edu/2641141/Άσμα_τοû _Άρμούρη_The_Song_of_Armouris_-_Translation_and_Commentary, 2016).