To Kill or Cure (52 page)

Names were the least of Clare’s problems in the fourteenth century. Robert Spaldynge, who had been made a Fellow there in
the 1320s, had been put in charge of a house that was being used as a hostel (the building later became known as Borden Hostel).
Although it was not his to dispose of, he decided to sell it, an action that saw him deprived of his Fellowship by his peeved
colleagues. The story does not end there. For some inexplicable reason, he was later awarded a substantial pension from Clare,
and liked his old College well enough that he bequeathed it several valuable books. It has been suggested that Elizabeth de
Burgh intervened on Spaldynge’s behalf, and ordered the Master and Fellows to look after him, but we shall probably never
know why he was given money after so brazenly breaking his College’s trust.

Most of the scholars in this book actually existed, although there is no evidence to suggest any of them were criminals, malicious
or deranged. Richard Wisbeche was Master of Peterhouse from 1351 until about 1374. Thomas Paxtone was a Fellow of King’s Hall
in the 1340s, and later went on to hold lucrative clerical posts all over the country, and William Rougham was a founding
Fellow of Gonville Hall.

The Master of Clare in the 1350s was Ralph Kardington (or Kerdyngton), who remained in post until 1359. His contemporaries
included Walter de Wenden, who was probably elected in 1327, John Gedney, who was a Fellow in 1342, and Thomas Lexham, who
obtained his master’s degree in 1355 and later became a powerful churchman. Henry Motelete is recorded as giving Clare the
sum of five marks in 1355, but then he fades from the records, and there is no evidence that he was ever a proper member of
the College.

Michaelhouse was founded in 1324. Its Master in 1357 was probably Ralph de Langelee, and his Fellows included Michael de Causton
and William de Gotham, both of whom later became influential members of the academic community. Thomas Kenyngham (or Kyngingham)
was a founding Fellow of the College, and was later its Master. Wynewyk occurs in Michaelhouse records as an early benefactor.
John de Falmeresham (or Felmersham) took his master’s degree in the 1340s, and eventually became Warden of St John’s Hospital
in Farley, Bedfordshire. Roger de Carton was elected a Fellow in 1359, and earned the title of Magister. Roger Honynge was
another early Fellow, who gave money as a benefaction, while Roger Tyrington was recorded as a Fellow in 1349 and 1353.

Proctors wielded considerable power in the medieval Universities, although the arduous nature of their duties
probably meant few scholars were very keen on holding the office. Thomas Bukenham is recorded as a proctor in the 1330s.

The town’s records are less easy to research, but fourteenth-century bailiffs or citizens included Hugh Candelby, John Blankpayn,
John Hanchach, Maud Bowyer and Isabel St Ives. Roger Harleston was Mayor from 1356 until 1358. Meanwhile, John Arderne was
a famous fourteenth-century surgeon, who is often regarded as the ‘Father of Proctology’.

The Blood Relics dispute was a bitter one, and spanned several centuries. It reached a crisis in the 1350s, when the Spanish
Franciscan Bajulus of Barcelona wrote a tract about it. The issue of whether bits of Christ’s body were left behind after
the Resurrection seems trivial today, but in the Middle Ages it was a matter for fierce debate, and had repercussions for
the Transubstantiation, as well as other theological niceties. And, of course, there were the handsome revenues from Blood
Relic shrines to be taken into account – no religious foundation that owned Blood Relics wanted to be deprived of those. The
rift was deep and traumatic, and it sent tremors of shock throughout the entire medieval Church. The scholars at Cambridge
would certainly have argued about it. Likewise, the mean speed theorem proposed by the scholars of Merton College, Oxford,
would also have been regarded as exciting, heady stuff in the 1350s.

Rents were a serious business, too, and statutes were drafted in the thirteenth century to make sure certain rules were followed.
These seem manifestly weighted in favour of the University – for example, once a house had been rented to a scholar as a hostel,
it could only stop being a hostel if the owner wanted to live in it himself. He could not demand it back to lease to someone
else. Further, the University was responsible for brokering agreement on
what constituted ‘fair’ rents. It is not unreasonable to assume that these statutes led to a good deal of ill feeling between
town and University, and confrontations must have occurred on a regular basis.

The Twelfth Chronicle of Matthew Bartholomew

Susanna Gregory

On a bitter winter evening in 1356, Matthew Bartholomew and Brother Michael arrive in Lincoln – Michael to accept an honour
from the cathedral, and Bartholomew to look for the woman he wants to marry.

It is not long before they learn that the friary in which they are staying is not the safe haven they imagine – one guest
has already been murdered. It soon emerges that the dead man was holding the Hugh Chalice, a Lincoln relic with a curiously
bloody history.

Bartholomew and Michael are soon drawn into a web of murder, lies and suspicion in a city where neither knows who can be trusted.

‘A good, serious and satisfying read’
Irish Times

978-0-7515-3545-7

Chaloner’s First Exploit in Restoration London

Susanna Gregory

The dour days of Cromwell are over. Charles II is well established at White Hall Palace, his mistress at hand in rooms over
the Holbein bridge, the heads of some of the regicides on public display. London seethes with new energy, freed from the strictures
of the Protectorate, but many of its inhabitants have lost their livelihoods.

One is Thomas Chaloner, a reluctant spy for the feared Secretary of State, John Thurloe, and now returned from Holland in
desperate need of employment. His erstwhile boss, knowing he has many enemies at court, recommends Chaloner to Lord Clarendon,
but in return demands that Chaloner keep him informed of any plot against him.

But what Chaloner discovers is that Thurloe had sent another ex-employee to White Hall and he is dead, supposedly murdered
by footpads near the Thames. Chaloner volunteers to investigate his killing: instead he is despatched to the Tower to unearth
the gold buried by the last Governor. He discovers not treasure, but evidence that greed and self-interest are uppermost in
men’s minds whoever is in power, and that his life has no value to either side.

‘Immaculate research, a well thought-out plot, and a sense of drama’
Choice

978-0-7515-3758-1