Dr John Dee is the primary instigator of the events that unfold in my book The Blade in the Angel’s Shadow. Through his interference with Angelic magic, he lays the groundwork for what happens to our protagonists and, furthermore, influences the course of world history, believing he can restore humanity to the state of grace it possessed before the Fall. He is the magical spider at the centre of the web of intrigue that causes ripples through time itself. Or, at least, that is how I have chosen to portray him for this story. But, in truth, Dr Dee is a complex character in his own right, a figure who existed in the Tudor period beyond his role in my narrative.
Dee, born in 1527, studied mathematics and astronomy at Trinity College, Cambridge, before moving to Louvain in the Low Countries to study geographical arts. After the death of Henry VIII, he returned to England and held positions in several notable households as an advisor and tutor. He seemed close to becoming a favourite of the young King Edward VI and appeared destined for rank and wealth. However, after young Edward’s death, his fortunes declined with Mary’s accession. Dee’s father was arrested as a Protestant activist, and without benefactors, Dee was suddenly forced to fend for himself.
In 1555, Mary’s supporters began to burn prominent Protestants, and the officers of the Privy Council were sent to arrest Dee. The accusations against Dee were serious, focusing on his religious beliefs and his mathematics, which were linked to the magical ‘black arts’; the term calculating was synonymous with conjuration. After three months of questioning and the collapse of the evidence against him, he was accused of heresy and brought before the Bishop of London for interrogation. Dee, refusing to be swayed, remained steadfast in his beliefs, always claiming that his theology was based on ancient principles and supported by science. His resilience and intellectual ability were clear as he adapted to the new Catholic order, thus surviving where many of his peers did not. In 1558, Mary died, leaving all those associated with her regime and religion in a perilous position, not least the Bishop of London and Dee, who had been made his chaplain.
Fate smiled upon Dee through Elizabeth. As one of the country’s leading natural philosophers, who had rekindled interest in mathematically based astrology, he was asked to cast a horoscope for her coronation date. Shortly after the coronation, Dee disappeared from the historical record for nearly five years. It is believed he spent much of this time abroad collecting books and studying the Cabala. Returning to England in 1564, he presented Elizabeth with a copy of his book ‘The Hieroglyphic Monad’, which intrigued her, and she vowed to become Dee’s ‘scholar’ if he revealed ‘unto her the secrets of that book’.
Dee became a prominent figure in promoting the idea of a ‘British Empire’, supporting the establishment of English colonies abroad, with exploration and trade expansion being key aspects. He strongly backed efforts to find a Northwest Passage to Asia and to discover the continent of ‘Terra Australis Incognita’, which he believed existed in the southern hemisphere. Dee made a formal claim to North America based on a map created between 1577 and 1580; he noted that “circa 1494 Mr Robert Thorn, his father, and Mr Eliot of Bristow, discovered Newfound Land.” In his Title Royal of 1580, he claimed that Madog ab Owain Gwynedd had discovered America, aiming to strengthen England’s claim to the New World over Spain’s. He also argued that Brutus of Britain, King Arthur, and Madog had conquered lands in the Americas, thus making their heir, Elizabeth I of England, have a prior claim. The famous English explorers Frobisher, Drake, Borough, and Raleigh all sought Dee for his mathematical and technical expertise.
His home at Mortlake became the repository of his extensive library, the largest in England, along with a collection of alchemical apparatus, and the Queen often consulted with him on scientific and astrological matters. She even visited his home occasionally.
In the 1580s, Dee began his ‘angelic conversations’ with the help of several mediums, the most infamous of whom was Edward Kelly. During these supposed exchanges, Dee was directed to assist the angels’ plans for bringing about the end of the world, especially in relation to gathering the twelve tribes of Israel. Aiming to unite Catholicism and Protestantism and incorporate Judaism, Islam, and paganism into a new Christianity, this emerging world religion, along with Dee’s existing plans for a British Empire, would allow the angels to unify all of humanity into one state and one church, overseen by the angels themselves. During this period, he even created a completely new language with its own grammar and syntax. However, after an unsuccessful journey to the court of the Holy Roman Emperor, where he failed to produce gold from base metals, his reputation and finances suffered irreparably due to his association with the rogue Edward Kelly.
When Elizabeth I died in 1603, he lost his only connection to the royal court and became a pariah. The new king, James I, strongly opposed the supernatural, and Dee found himself spending his remaining years defending himself against accusations of being a sorcerer. He died a pauper at his home in Mortlake in 1608.
Despite Dr Dee’s ignominious end, he was a polymath and arguably one of the most brilliant men of the Renaissance, engaging in pioneering science intertwined with the occult. He is reputed to have cast a spell causing the storm that wrecked the Spanish Armada. Elizabeth used the well-travelled and loyal Dee as a spy, a fact that Ian Fleming drew upon for his James Bond character, including the famous ‘007’ that Dee is said to have signed his letters to Elizabeth. The remaining possessions of Dr Dee are housed in the British Museum and include a black obsidian mirror, which he used for scrying. The mirror is believed to be of Aztec origin, brought to Europe by the returning forces of Hernán Cortés.
All of this makes Dr John Dee a captivating figure whom I might well have ill-used in my book, though who is to say?
Oh, and one more thing. In 1642, a confectioner and his wife decided to buy some ‘household stuff’. They noticed a locked cedar wood chest in excellent condition and agreed to purchase it. They returned home with the chest, and it remained untouched for twenty years. In 1662, they decided to move the chest, and during the process, they heard a rattle. Upon investigation, the confectioner discovered a secret drawer, which he pried open with a knife, and inside he found a collection of books and papers. Unable to decipher the gibberish contents, they set the papers aside. Their maid later found the papers and thought they could be used to line pie tins and for other purposes, and she worked her way through about half the pile before the papers were once again locked away.
In 1644, the confectioner died, and two years later, the Great Fire of London broke out. His wife fled with her possessions but was forced to leave the heavy chest behind, though she took the papers with her. She remarried a warder of the Tower of London, and when she showed him the papers, he recognised their potential value, though he could not understand them. However, he knew a collector and expert in astrology, alchemy, and the occult. Elias Ashmole became the owner of the remaining papers, which he recognised as the surviving remnants of Dee’s Liber Mysteriorum, his book of mysteries — which, according to the man in whose hand they were written, “contained the secrets of the universe…”