Murder Most Foul (Bookhounds, Hauntings)

All the gruesome murders!

This week's post comes courtesy of Cambridge University and its labour in the fields of the Lord, the Murder Map. Gaze upon its medieval splendor! Marvel at its gruesome grue!

You’ll notice the map only includes the City of London. That’s what London was, once; the wider area which we now think of as London was, mostly, open fields and mud.

What I find fascinating about this is the effort the University took to provide voiceovers. It makes a difference, hearing all those old tales of grim killings. Like, say, Brother Henry's accusations of embezzlement and subsequent murder, in the old ward of Cheap, City of London. The Hospital mentioned no longer exists. It was dissolved durin the Protestant reformation, and the property probably passed to the Mercer's Guild. It's not immediately clear what happened to it. 

Let’s make a Bookhounds story out of it.

Before I delve deep into that, though, a reminder that I’ve spoken about hauntings before. I said:

There are any number of tales that could be told, but there are some things the Keeper should bear in mind:

1. The truth of the haunting will probably never be known for certain, since most of the facts are unavailable.
2. It cannot be dealt with in the same way as, say, an ordinary antagonist encounter. Ghouls, for example, can be shot, or bargained with. There is no way to communicate with a haunting of place, and probably no way to kill it.
3. It has a great deal of power behind it, possibly magical power. That means other people besides the protagonists are going to be interested in it. That also means it could be very dangerous.

This haunting is a little different in that some facts are available. Those facts exist, in the 1930s, in old documents, transcripts, scholar’s research and other esoteric places. They’re not public. What information is public, is a garbled, watered-down (or sexed-up) blow-by-blow passed down from generation to generation. It bears about as much resemblance to the truth of the matter as I do to Greta Garbo.

I’m going to assume, for the sake of this narrative, that some of those old documents are available in an archive of some description, and that more important documents can be had by going somewhere esoteric – Coleshill Abbey, let’s say.

OK, all that said: the haunting follows on the murder of Brother Henry in what was the old Hospital of St Thomas of Acre, long since defunct. That's Rome, for this scenario.

The Knights of St Thomas who used the Hospital as their base of operations were a military order and would have still been one when Brother Henry was beaten to death. By the time of the dissolution, they were a much less violent organization. Charitable work, running a grammar school, that sort of thing. They had links with the Mercers before the reformation (the Mercers used it as a meeting hall) so the purchase and takeover was (probably) friendly enough. The buildings were destroyed in the Great Fire of London in 1666. 

I see there would have been a cemetery once upon a time. I also see that the old Hospital would have been involved in the ransoming of captives from the Holy Land, according to Cambridge scholars. Both these facts might come in handy. The Hall as it existed in the 1930s was extensively remodeled during the London Blitz by Hitler's bombs, which has the unintentional advantage of making it much easier to tell lies about the place. 

Let's take all this and make something of it.

Bad Brother

Megapolisamancers linked to the shop (shop employees? perhaps) have been trying to complete a working using the Mercer's Hall as a lever. They encounter an unexpected obstacle: the place is haunted, and the ghost is interfering with the working. It must be dealt with before the lever can be established.

Signs of haunting: areas of extreme cold, unexpected bruising, elevated rage levels, doors open and close without visible cause, stink of sweat and fear, sounds of pleading and shouts of anger.

Written records (public): The story gets a brief mention in a history of Cheapside, Diary of a Clergyman c 1858, author unknown, slightly scandalous for the period but mild as milk to 1930s audiences. The haunting is blamed on the brown monk who is supposed to have seduced a maiden back in the 1600s.

Records (verbal history): The servants and staff of the Mercer's Hall call the ghost old Henry but accounts vary as to who Henry was. Most agree that he was a bad old man but disagree as to why.

Records (Coleshill): In a book of old trials and legal records there's mention of a murder at the Hospital where a brother whose name is no longer remembered was put to death for his crimes, including embezzlement. 

Extensive research similar to that conducted by Cambridge (multiple sources, records from the period, access to private archives) uncovers the truth behind the killing of Brother Henry. 

Option One: Henry's Repentance. It was really Henry who took the money, and he tried to blame Richard. The haunting can be dealt with by expiating Henry's sin. This can mean repaying his debt through donations to charities approved of by the Mercers, who effectively represent the heirs to the old monastic order.

Option Two: Henry's Vengeance. It really was Richard who took the money. The haunting can only be dealt with by exacting vengeance on Henry's killer, Richard of Southampton, Master of the Chapel. This can mean somehow bringing Richard himself back for punishment, or it can mean vengeance against Riichard's representative, the current head of the Mercers. Bonus points if Richard is still alive in the present, perhaps because he turned into a ghoul or is still remembered in dust-thing form.

Option Three: A Misunderstanding. The rents were embezzled, but neither Henry nor Richard were involved. This must somehow be proven to Henry. If it is successfully done, then and only then will Henry dissipate. This version can result in a Henry-shaped tulpa or megapolisomantic entity.

That's it for this week! Enjoy.